TITLE:     DIRECT ORDERS
AUTHOR:    DONNILEE
E-MAIL:    Donnilee@snet.net
WEBSITE:   http://donnilee.tripod.com
RATING:    NC-17
CATEGORY:  MSR
SPOILERS:  Small one for Arcadia.

SUMMARY:   Mulder and Scully get together while sent 
on a missing person's case for the Director of the 
Bureau. 

DISCLAIMER:  All characters used from the show, The 
X-Files are the property of Chris Carter, Ten 
Thirteen Productions, and Fox Broadcasting.  No 
copyright infringement intended.  No money made here.

THANKS:  To my beta reader, FatCat, who keep me on 
the grammatical straight and narrow.  I love you.

XXXXXXXXXX
PART 1 (PG-13)
GROVE STREET
WATERBURY, CT
THURSAY EVENING
7:30 PM

"When in Rome, Scully," I said under my breath as I 
watched the women in the tight, black, leather mini-
skirt sashay down the sidewalk.

She growled back at me under her breath, "So help me 
God, Mulder.  One more prostitute propositions you 
and I'm pulling my gun."

Jesus Fernandez chuckled, having heard the entire 
exchange.  We'd been interviewing him on the street 
for about fifteen minutes.  In that time, four 
prostitutes had come up and asked me if I wanted a 
date.  In a way, it amused me.  I had no interest, 
and there was no flattery in being hit on by a 
hooker.  It was their business after all.  They 
didn't give a damn what you looked like.  

It bothered Scully though.  I could tell, and THAT 
amused the hell out of me.

Scully gave him her death glare and his mirth died in 
his throat.  I said off-handedly, "She's a good shot 
too, I wouldn't piss her off."

His eyes darted up the street and back to mine.  
"Now, back to the matter at hand.  When was the last 
time you saw Tammy Baird?"

"I tol' you, man, at least two weeks ago."

"She works for Eddie Ortiz?" Scully asked, referring 
to the well-known Hispanic pimp.

Jesus, shook his head and leaned in.  "I don't know."  
He lowered his voice, pinching his lips together and 
then leaned even closer, almost whispering in my ear.  
"You tryin' ta get me killed, man?  Hmm?  Someone 
overhear dat talk out here, I get wasted.  You 
understan' me?"

I let him step back.  Scully said, "How about if you 
take a ride with us, then no one will hear a thing.  
You're the one that wanted to talk right here on the 
street."

"Be even worse if I get in a car witchoo," he said 
and visibly paled.

I nodded, lacing my fingers together and cracking my 
knuckles, my signal to Scully to let me take over the 
interview.  She took a small step back to make 
herself less conspicuous and take her out of his line 
of sight.  She was behind me and off to the left.  I 
could see her out of the corner of my eye.  Her eyes 
were scanning the street on full alert.

"I get you man," I said softly.  "Anyone asks, you 
tell them I was her brother, lookin' for her."

He held my gaze for a moment and then nodded curtly.  
"I'll do that."

I glanced to the right and saw three men trying to 
look casual, leaning on a porch down the block.  The 
threat was unmistakable.  Our position here was going 
to get untenable in a very short time.  I grabbed the 
front of his shirt and raised my voice to be sure 
they heard my next statement.  He struggled, but the 
look in his eyes told me he knew it was for show.

"You better not be lying to me, punk!  You see my 
sister, you call me.  I find out you were lying, I'll 
come back for you and it won't be fucking pretty."

His hands came forward and pushed on my chest.  I 
shoved him away from me and he stumbled a little, but 
then righted himself and shrugged his shoulders, 
brushing his palms over the stomach of his tee shirt.  
"I haven't seen her man, I swear," he said loudly.

I nodded curtly and turned to Scully.  "Come on, 
honey.  We're wasting our time," I said.  

I was at the curb in two strides, opening the door.  
Scully slid into the passenger seat without a word 
and I circled around the front of the car and sat 
behind the wheel.  "Mulder," she began.

"Not yet, Scully."

She was silent while I pulled out into the street, 
looking in my rearview mirror as the three men 
approached Jesus.  I turned right at the end of the 
street and drove one block, turning right again.  
Scully asked, "Where are you going?"

"We're circling around," I said tensely.

"Why?" she asked.

"I have a bad feeling.  I recognized one of those 
guys on the porch."

"Which one?" she asked, sitting up straighter.

"Eddie Ortiz," I said curtly.

"No way!"

"Yes."

"You're sure, Mulder?"

"Positive."

"Shit," she said, reaching back under her blazer and 
pulling out her weapon.

I turned right again and was at the top of the Grove 
Street.  It was a hill, straight down for about five 
blocks.  I slowly coasted down, eyes peeled.

Sure enough, two blocks later, the three men were 
surrounding Jesus.  One punched him in the gut.  I 
revved the engine and gunned it, screeching to a halt 
at the curb.  I leaped out of the car as they all 
turned to face me.  Scully stayed in the car.  I knew 
her weapon was ready.  Mine was under my windbreaker, 
but I didn't draw it.  "Hey man," I shouted.

They were all silent.  I pulled out the fake card I'd 
been given.  It had the logo of some computer company 
in Virginia.  My alias, Mulder Baird was printed on 
it with a number and fax that was hooked up directly 
to the Bureau where it would be answered by an Agent 
from the Vice Unit should someone call.

"What?" Jesus said, breathing hard, his hand over his 
stomach.

"I forgot to give you my card," I said, approaching 
the sidewalk.  I stepped up onto the curb and the 
bodies parted.  I held the card out to Jesus and I 
looked at each man in turn.  My eyes locked on Eddie 
Ortiz. 

Man, he was a big bastard, easily six feet, three 
inches tall, and broad shouldered.  He had a lantern 
jaw and big teeth.  His eyes were hidden behind a 
pair of Ray Bans, however, it was him without a 
doubt.

Jesus took the card.  "I haven't seen her man," he 
repeated.

"Yeah, well, if you do, give that to her."

He nodded.  I got back in the car and drove away 
without looking back.  Scully was watching the side 
mirror.  "Eddie just snatched the card from him," she 
said casually.

"Well, hopefully it will keep him in one piece," I 
said.  I turned right again and went one block and 
pulled over.  

"Why are you stopping?" she asked.

"Should we go back?"

"Too suspicious," she said.

"I meant on foot," I explained.

She looked at me while she studied my question.  "I 
think we should send a local black and white by to 
check on him.  Sheriff Hubbel said they regularly 
patrol the street," she said as she pulled out her 
cell phone.

"Right," I agreed, and pulled back out into traffic, 
heading for downtown and our hotel room at the Crown 
Plaza Marriott.  Fancy digs compared to what we were 
used to, but it was the only game in town other than 
hotels that rented rooms by the hour.  Even the 
Bureau wouldn't go that far down.

We arrived and trudged up to our suite.  "I need a 
shower.  Then dinner?" I suggested as we entered the 
living room.

She nodded.  "Meet you back here in a half hour."
Then she disappeared into her bedroom.

I went into mine and started to strip, throwing my 
polo shirt and windbreaker on the bed.  I pulled my 
holster off my belt and put it on the dresser and 
then stripped out of my jeans.  I felt dirty just 
from standing on that street.  Christ.

XXXXXXXXXX

CROWN PLAZA MARRIOTT
ROOM 312
WATERBURY, CT

It had been a long three days.  Mulder was not a 
happy camper.  Normally, we wouldn't be on a missing 
person's case.  This one was different because the 
missing person was Tammy Baird.  She was the daughter 
of David Baird, who was the Director of the Bureau's 
brother-in-law by marriage.  David Baird was married 
to the Director's wife's sister.  Make sense?  It 
almost didn't to me.

In any case, it had looked like your basic runaway 
situation at first, but then Baird had received a 
ransom note asking for a million dollars and saying 
they would call to arrange a drop.

Now, the Bureau's Kidnapping agents were in on this.  
When the call came, it was traced to Waterbury, 
Connecticut.  The Director had called in his Deputy 
Directors and Assistant Directors and said he wanted 
a pair of undercover agents to go to Connecticut.  He 
wanted a pair of agents that could think outside the 
box.  They quickly realized what he meant.  

There were going to be no rules.  Nearly anything 
needed to find and get Baird's daughter back alive 
was going to be authorized.  Skinner had immediately 
suggested Mulder and me.

I could have cheerfully strangled him when he gave us 
the news.  We tried to back out of it, until he 
dropped the bomb.  The Director had immediately 
agreed and would consider it a personal favor if we 
would do this for him.  In other words, funding for 
the X-Files would be in jeopardy if we didn't.  If we 
did, it could mean more cooperation from the brass 
for the X-Files.  We were between a rock and hard 
place.

Therefore, off we went to Connecticut, posing as 
Mulder and Dana Baird.  Mulder was to be Tammy's 
estranged older brother and I was to be, you guessed 
it, his wife.

Three days of him holding my hand, putting his arm 
around me and calling me honey.  I was ready to spit 
bullets.

Another call had come in from the kidnappers saying 
they would contact David Baird tomorrow with a drop 
spot.  The call had been traced to Grove Street.

When we walked the street showing a picture of her, 
we were met with stone faces until we ran into Jesus.  
He'd tried to deny knowing Tammy, but his face had 
gone pale.  He finally agreed to answer a few 
questions for us if we asked right there on the 
street.  He didn't know we were Feds but he hinted 
that he knew we were the law of some kind.  By the 
time we got this concession from him, two hookers had 
already interrupted us, asking Mulder for a date.

I wasn't kidding when I said I was ready to draw my 
weapon.  Especially the last one who had looked me up 
and down and said, "I could do better than her."

When I began to question him, Jesus was more helpful 
than any else had been so far.  I got the feeling he 
felt sorry for Tammy Baird.  When I asked if he had 
ever seen Tammy around here, his answer was, 'Yes.'  

Did she work the streets?  'Yes.'

When was the last time he saw her?  'Two weeks ago at 
least.'

Did she still look the same?  'No, she wasn't a 
brunette, she was a blonde.'

Did she work for Eddie Ortiz?  'Gee, he just didn't 
know.'

I realized Jesus' tenuous situation.  I'd almost 
blown it and put him in serious danger.  Mulder 
rarely asked me to back off on an interview but when 
he did, I knew something was wrong.  It was after I 
acquiesced to his silent request and stepped back 
that I noticed that we were being watched.

I'd been so caught up in finally finding someone that 
would talk to us that I hadn't even noticed.  Christ, 
I was supposed to be a trained agent.  How had I 
missed it?  I felt like an idiot, and therefore, had 
not protested when Mulder went back and gave Jesus 
his card.  Hopefully it 'proved' to his cohorts that 
he was Tammy's brother, and not the law.

God, I hoped he didn't get killed over this.  There 
was no doubt in my mind that Jesus was no altar boy.  
That didn't mean I wanted anyone to lose his or her 
life over this either.  Hopefully my call for the 
black and white gave Jesus his out.

I took off my slacks and sweater and showered.  I 
changed into jeans and a blue blouse and slipped into 
my sneakers.  Being undercover, we were in casual 
clothes for this assignment.  

We had signed in as husband and wife, but had a suite 
with two bedrooms.  We both had a private bath 
attached to our bedrooms, but we shared an efficiency 
kitchen and common living space with TV, VCR, DVD and 
a couple of chairs and a sofa and a desk.  The place 
was designed to accommodate business travelers.  I 
had no complaints about the digs.

I emerged from my bedroom to find Mulder already 
showered and changed into snug, well-worn, black 
jeans and a green dress shirt.  His hair was wet and 
slicked back.  He was standing by the coffee table 
shuffling through a pile of photos in his hands.

I approached and he took one of the photos and turned 
it around so I could see it.  It was the one we'd 
been given of Eddie Ortiz.  "That was him for sure," 
I said.

"I know.  Shit.  I wanted to nail him right there but 
we couldn't blow our cover."

"I know.  I'm sorry, Mulder.  I almost screwed up big 
time."  I looked down at the carpet.

He put the photos on the coffee table and I felt his 
hands land on my shoulders.  He kneaded them gently 
and I moaned softly feeling my tense muscles revel in 
the sensation.  "Don't worry about it," he said to 
the top of my head.

"How can I not?  I could have gotten that guy 
killed."  

"But you didn't," he reminded me.

"We hope," I added.

He lifted my chin with two fingers and said, "We 
already sent a car to check on him."

"I know, but Christ, how could I be so stupid?  I got 
too focused on Jesus."

"Scully, they weren't there when we started.  They 
obviously had a lookout on the street and they 
gathered there in a matter of minutes.  We stuck out 
like sore thumbs."

"I know."

"We wanted to, but that doesn't change anything.  
They weren't there to start with."

"I should have been watching," I continued to 
protest.

He shook me lightly and smiled down at me.  "Stop it.  
Beating one's self with a big stick is my job."

I smiled up at him and said, "I'm hungry."

"You want to order room service or mosey on down to 
the restaurant?"

"The restaurant," I said.

"Okay, let's go."



PART 2 (PG-13)
CROWN PLAZA MARRIOTT
THE CROWN LOUNGE RESTAURANT
WATERBURY, CT

"So what do you think?" Mulder asked me after we had 
ordered and gotten our meals.

I was having halibut on a bed of honeyed rice.  
Mulder, as usual was having a rare steak, baked 
potato and green beans.  "I think you're having a 
heart attack on a plate," I commented.

He smirked.  "Mmm, mmm, good!" he mocked.

I just shook my head.  "What were you really asking 
about?"

"The case.  Where we go from here."

"I'm not sure there's anything to do at this point 
until we get the call with the drop location," I said 
between bites.

"Of course, you know that most drops go bad, even 
when we have advance set up."

I sighed.  "I know.  I'm worried about that.  If this 
goes bad, more than Tammy Baird's life is at stake."

"Yeah.  Our careers for one," he deadpanned.

"I'd like to say I don't care about that, but I do."

"I hate playing for the man," he said, referring to 
the Bureau brass.

"Well, you have a passion for autonomy, you always 
have."

"Not really," he countered.  "I just don't like being 
told I HAVE to do anything."

"Same difference.  Besides, it's really a cover for 
something else."

"What do you mean?" he asked.  Now he sounded 
insulted.

"Don't get mad.  I feel the same way.  I value 
certain things more than others so I've put myself in 
a position where I get them.  That doesn't mean I 
don't sacrifice.  I don't want suffocation, so I 
suffer isolation.  I don't want bondage, so I suffer 
independence.  I don't want betrayal, so I suffer 
with safety."

"I'm not sure I understand," he replied.

"I'm a woman in a man's world, Mulder.  Therefore, I 
value certain things.  Most of my relationships with 
men have suffocated me, so I've learned to avoid 
relationships.  However, I then have to accept that I 
will suffer from isolation and loneliness.  I don't 
want to feel bound or obligated to anyone financially 
or otherwise, so I've made myself independent.  
Unfortunately, that means that sometimes, when I do 
need someone, there's no one there.  I'm so afraid of 
betrayal, I always make the 'safe' choice.  For that, 
I suffer with boredom and lack of passion."

He was nodding now.  "Are you talking about your 
personal life or your professional one?" he inquired.

"Both, I guess.  One sort of seeps into the other, 
you know?"

"Do you find me suffocating?" he asked quietly.

I looked up at him.  "No.  Well, sometimes you 
overwhelm me, but not often."

"If you ever need some time off or to be alone, 
Scully, just tell me.  I want you to be happy," he 
said sincerely.
 
I smiled at him.  "I know you do, Mulder, but it's 
not about me needing time away from you or anyone 
else.  It's about fear."

"Excuse me?  Now you've completely lost me."

I smirked at him this time.  "Those priorities were 
set because of fear," I said with a sigh.  "I don't 
even know why I'm talking about this."

"No, continue.  This is fascinating.  I always want 
to know what you think about stuff like this.  I like 
getting to know Dana," he said sincerely.

I eyed him warily.  "Really?"

He smiled gently at me.  "Yeah, so what do you mean 
the decisions were made because of fear?"

"Fear of not being good enough.  Fear of losing my 
reputation.  Fear of losing myself to another human 
being or to my job."

He gave me a considering look before saying, "I think 
you're stronger than that, Scully.  You don't give 
yourself enough credit.  Those might have been 
concerns when you were a rookie, and still pining for 
your father's approval, but you've come a long way 
since then."

"Pining for my father's approval?" I repeated, not 
sure whether to be insulted or not.

He looked up from his forkful of potato, hearing the 
tone of my voice.  He put his fork down.  "It wasn't 
a bad thing, necessarily, Scully.  We all go through 
it, finding our place in the world.  I went through 
it, and ended up having people use me and abuse me 
along the way.  I kept moving and finally sloughed 
off the dead weight or the outdated ideals."

"So now you're a pessimist instead of an idealist?"

"No, I'm a pragmatist.  I can see reality and I've 
come to understand that I don't really have much say 
about my place in history.  I just have to do what 
feels right at the time."

"You never hold back or make decisions because of 
fear?" I asked incredulously.

He shrugged.  "Of course I do.  I just accept that I 
don't have a lot of control over my fears, either.  
I'm worried about you though.  You've seemed 'far 
away' lately."

"I'm fine, Mulder," I blurted out automatically.

He made a face.  "Don't cough up that old hairball 
again, Scully.  You know how I hate it when you say 
that."

"What if it's true and I'm just having a melancholy 
moment?" I asked.

He stared at me like it was the most ridiculous 
suggestion he'd heard yet.  Damn him.  He always knew 
when something wasn't right with me.  He usually 
didn't push it though if I didn't want to talk about 
it.  I realized he wasn't pushing now.  I had started 
this conversation after all.

"All right, I haven't been feeling right lately."

"In what way?"

"I'm not sure.  I've just been discontent, I guess."

"Discontent?"

"Yeah, thinking about the choices I've made and 
whether I want something different now."

He was silent for a moment before he finally asked, 
"Are you thinking of leaving the X-Files?"

"No!" I exclaimed, snapping my head up to look at him 
again.  "Why would you think that?"

He shrugged again.  "You're rethinking your 
decisions.  You're discontent."

"Not with work or the X-Files, or you for that 
matter," I added.

He didn't look convinced.  "Mulder, it's more about 
my personal life."

He still didn't say anything and continued to eat 
with his eyes down on his plate.

I sighed.  "What is going on in that head of yours?"

He looked up tentatively and said, "You want a 
personal life and work holds you back from that."

"Speaking of coughing up old hairballs," I said 
flatly.  "Mulder, if I wanted a personal life I could 
have one, X-Files or no X-Files.  I just have to 
choose to have one."

He got even quieter and the silence stretched.  The 
only sounds were our silverware clanking on the 
plates as we finished our meal.  The waiter arrived 
and asked if we wanted dessert.  Mulder waved at me 
telling me to decide.  "No thank you, just put it on 
our Room tab, Room 312."  The waiter nodded and 
walked away to get the receipt for the signature.  
"Let's have coffee in the room, Mulder," I said after 
completing the transaction.

He nodded, acting exceptionally docile.  It worried 
me.  I knew something was going on in that head of 
his and it was probably way left of center.  Our 
conversations lately sounded like they were 
punctuated by transatlantic delays.  It was starting 
to get on my nerves.  I realized I was just as much 
at fault as he was. 

I had feelings for my partner, and I'd been 
repressing them for years.  Every time I thought 
about taking the relationship further, I'd been 
paralyzed with fear over losing myself, losing my 
career, and everything I'd worked so hard for.  My 
biggest fear, of course, was that of losing Mulder 
completely.

I was always telling him it wasn't all about him, and 
yet I believed he had the power to ruin all these 
things for me.  That wasn't fair and I railed against 
the power he had over me, even if it were 
unintentional.  If I made a choice, it was my choice 
and I would bear the responsibilities of the fallout.  
That was the problem right there.  A relationship 
with Mulder could be expensive, emotionally and 
professionally, should it separate us at work.  I 
wouldn't be able to work at the Bureau if I were 
separated from Mulder.  I know I wouldn't.  So there 
was the rub.  The price tag would be high but would 
it be worth it?  Even if it was, was I willing to pay 
the price?  That was the bottom line.

I knew the price of not making that choice.  I'd been 
in limbo a long time and it had left me unhappy, 
unsatisfied, and discontent.  Those feelings were 
growing by the day.  Being here, pretending to be his 
wife, and hearing him call me honey was grating on my 
nerves and pounding at the wall of my resistance.  He 
had always invaded my personal space, but now he was 
touching me more and taking liberties he never had 
before for the sake of our cover.  At least, that's 
what I told myself it was all about in order to guard 
my heart.  

Something told me that he was enjoying this a little 
more than he should, and that made me nervous.  If 
the truth were told, I enjoyed it more than I should 
as well.  It was bringing up all those feelings of 
attraction, desire, and loneliness.  I was getting a 
glimpse of what was missing in my life and it was 
making me down right miserable.  We had to talk.

XXXXXXXXXX
CROWN PLAZA MARRIOTT
ROOM 312
WATERBURY, CT

I made a pot of coffee and we settled down on the 
couch.  "Do you want to watch a movie?" he asked.

"No, I want to talk."

He looked surprised but put the remote down on the 
coffee table and sat back.  "What about?"

"Me, you, us," I blurted out.

He frowned.  "What's going on, Scully?  You're 
scaring me," he admitted.

I smiled gently at him.  "Don't be scared.  We're all 
right, Mulder."

"You sure?" he asked.

"Yes," I reassured him.

He nodded.  "What's on your mind?"

"This case and others like it, such as that time in 
Arcadia, make me think about what I'm missing."

"A normal life?" he asked.

"I'd hardly call Arcadia normal life," I joked.

He chuffed out a bit of amusement.  "You know what I 
mean," he stated.

"Yeah, I do.  Not so much normal, I mean, that's not 
what I'm after."

"What are you after?"

"Just a relationship I could call my own that 
wouldn't smother me, but would support me.  There are 
things I miss about being one half of a couple."

"Like what?"

"Coming home to someone.  I hate coming home to an 
empty apartment."

"Me too," he agreed.

"Eating alone, I hate to eat alone.  I rarely cook 
because it seems like a waste of time for just me."

"Me too," he agreed again.

I paused.  "Going to bed with someone," I said my 
voice nearly a whisper.

His eyebrows rose at that and one corner of his mouth 
turned up.  "You miss the affection, or just doing 
the nasty?" he teased.

I chuckled.  "Both, I guess."  I could feel a blush 
steal up my neck.

His eyes were riveted on me now.  "Me too," he 
repeated.  This time his voice was rougher and lower.

I shifted my gaze from my coffee cup to his eyes.  
They were hooded and he looked like he was 
contemplating something.  I stared into them and got 
lost.  I realized at some point, his eyes had begun 
to flicker over my body and were making me feel warm.

"I haven't been honest with you, Mulder," I said 
after a brief silence.

"How so?" he asked.

"I've kept things to myself."

"You don't need to tell me everything, Scully.  We're 
best friends.  Despite the situation, you're not my 
wife.  You don't need to report to me on every little 
thing."

I took another sip of my coffee.  "Even if it's about 
you?" I asked slowly.

Oh, now I had his attention.  "You're always telling 
me these emotional times have nothing to do with me," 
he said.  I knew he was doing what I always did, 
taking the safe route.  

"Sometimes it isn't, but what if this is?"

He just stared at me for several moments.  "Then I'd 
want to know about it," he said finally.  "Only if 
you want to tell me, though.  I'd never force you to 
share something with me you're not comfortable 
sharing."

"I don't think I'll ever be comfortable sharing it," 
I said truthfully.

"Then don't tell me."

"I think I need to."

"Why is that?" he asked, playing along.

"Because it's starting to interfere with my life."

"I'd give you anything you asked me for, Scully; if 
it was mine to give.  You know that, don't you?" he 
asked softly.

I looked at his beautiful face again and his 
sincerity caused a prolonged pang of regret.  What 
the hell was I waiting for?  Would there ever be a 
good time to have this conversation?  I could say I 
should wait till the case was over but that would 
just be an excuse.  There would always be another 
case and another excuse to post-pone it.  It wasn't 
going to get better on its own.

"Can I ask you something?" I began.

"Of course.  Ask me anything you like," he said 
automatically.

"You promise to tell me the truth?"

He stiffened slightly but then relaxed.  I was making 
him nervous again.  "Yes.  I've never lied to you."

"I've never lied to you either, but I've left things 
out.  I've NOT told you things to protect you and 
myself.  You've done the same thing, haven't you?"

"I guess.  Yeah, I've omitted things."

"Why?"

He smiled.  "Fear."

I smiled back.  "Do you think I'm attractive?" I 
blurted out.

He laughed now and I frowned.  I didn't think it was 
a funny question.  When he realized I wasn't sharing 
his mirth, his chuckles faded and so did his smile.  
"Of course, I do," he replied.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that every man that looks at you finds you 
attractive."

"That's a ridiculous exaggeration.  I'm asking you, 
though.  You said you'd be honest.  Don't spare my 
feelings," I warned.

His eyes flickered over me again.  'Did it suddenly 
get hot in here?' I wondered as I felt sweat prickle 
my hairline at the base of my neck.  "I think you're 
more than attractive, Scully.  I've always thought 
so.  You're a beautiful woman."

"I know I'm your best friend and you respect me.  I 
mean, physically, Mulder."

He grinned now.  "So do I," he said without 
hesitation.

I stared at him and swallowed noisily.  "You're not 
just saying that to make me feel better?" I asked 
cautiously.

He shook his head.  "No, I've always thought you were 
stunning.  The older you get, the more gorgeous you 
are.  You've lost all the girlish softness.  Now 
you're sleek and gorgeous."

"Wow," I said softly and took another sip of my 
coffee.  "Thank you," I said belatedly.

He chuckled.  "No problem.  Is that what the problem 
is?  You're worried about your looks lately or 
something?"

"Well, I don't get asked out a lot, Mulder," I 
informed him as if he didn't already know that.

"There's several reasons for that," he said 
automatically.

"Such as?" I coaxed.

"Most guys see a beautiful woman like you and 
automatically think that you're out of their league, 
so they don't even try.  Others are threatened by 
your intelligence and they are afraid you'll make 
them look stupid."

"That's silly," I said quietly.

He continued as if I hadn't spoken.  "Then there's 
me."

I darted a look at him again.  "What do you mean, 
you?"

"I mean I probably prevent a lot of guys from 
approaching you."

"How?"

He shrugged, looking more uncomfortable by the 
moment.  "I lean into your personal space.  It's a 
guy signal to other guys to back off." 

My mouth dropped open.  "Why?" I squeaked out.

"I give them dirty looks if they look like they are 
going to approach you for anything other than a 
professional reason.  They usually pick up on it and 
back off."

"Why?" I asked again, getting agitated.

He looked down and drank his own coffee to avoid 
answering.  "I've said too much," he muttered.

"No, I don't think you've said nearly enough!"

He sighed and lifted his head.  He took a deep breath 
and said, "Because I don't want you with anyone 
else."  

He saw my look of outrage.  How dare he?  Then I 
sensed a deeper meaning under the surface of his 
comment and waited, wondering what to say.  This 
wasn't just about losing me as a partner at work or a 
friend.

He said, "It's selfish, I know.  I know it's wrong, 
even when I'm doing it, but I can't help myself."

"Why?" I asked, again.  That seemed to be the only 
word I could croak out.

"You can't figure it out?" he asked defensively.

"I don't know," I said finally, taking the safe 
route, again.

He looked away and stared at something over my 
shoulder.  I knew he wasn't really focusing on it 
though.  "Don't you get it?" he asked.

"Are you saying you want to be with me?" I asked 
quietly.

He nodded once, curtly, but still didn't look at me.

"Oh, my God," I whispered.

He stood up and walked his coffee cup to the sink.  I 
knew it was a diversionary tactic.  No more.  I 
wasn't going to allow this any longer.

"Mulder, come back here," I demanded.

He turned and walked back to the couch like he was 
ordered to go to the firing squad.  

Finally I reached over and put my coffee cup down and 
said, "Don't you know, Mulder?"

He looked at me.  "Know what?" he asked tersely. 



PART 3 (NC-17)
CROWN PLAZA MARRIOTT
ROOM 312
WATERBURY, CT

"That's what I've been trying to tell you."

He looked at me blankly, a spark of fear in his eyes.

"I want to be with you too, Mulder."

His eyes went wide with shock and his breathing 
speeded up.  "What?" 

I smiled, feeling my tension and fear drain away.  He 
wanted me!  Oh, but I knew that I loved him.  I 
needed to know how he felt.

"How do you feel about me, Mulder?"

Now he looked panicked.

"Would it help if I went first?" I asked.

He nodded.  "Please."

I scooted down to sit right next to him and reached 
up to cup his face.  "I love you, Mulder.  I have for 
a long time."

"No," he breathed out.  " That's impossible."

I laughed.  "No, it isn't.  I've hidden it, repressed 
it for a long time.  Then we get assigned one of 
these cases and you're touching me and calling me pet 
names," I said.

"And?" he asked, a twinkle of hope in his eyes.

"It drives me crazy and I find myself wondering 
what's holding me back.  I find myself wanting more; 
realizing what I'm missing."

"Those things, coming home to someone, going to bed 
with someone, you want them with me?" he asked 
tentatively.

I nodded and smiled.

He looked flabbergasted.  "I can't believe it," he 
said softly.

"Believe it," I whispered, as I leaned forward and 
covered his mouth with mine.

He was stiff as a board for a second but then he 
melted against me.  His arms went around my waist and 
he hauled me up against him.  His tongue battled with 
mine for control of the kiss.  I was still nervous 
and fearful, but I pushed those feelings down.

I felt like a gymnast teetering on a balance beam.  
If my dismount were good, I would win the gold.  If 
it sucked, I would go down hard.  

My hands began to wander his chest and his became 
mobile as well.  We rubbed and smelled, and kissed 
and pressed against one another.  I finally returned 
to his mouth after exploring his neck and 
collarbones.  His neck was very sensitive if the 
moans were anything to go by.

When I needed air, I finally broke the kiss 
reluctantly.  I leaned my forehead against his.  "How 
far are we going, Scully?" he asked.

I smiled.  "I think we've waited long enough, don't 
you?"

He grinned enthusiastically.  "Absolutely," he said 
with conviction.

I laughed and stood up.  "You're place or mine?" I 
asked saucily.

It was his turn to laugh but he said, "Yours."

"Any reason?" I asked as I headed toward my bedroom, 
towing him along by the hand.

"The sheets will smell like you," he admitted.

I stopped inside the door and spun to look at him.  I 
felt tears prick the back of my eyelids.  It was such 
an unexpected thing for him to say.  "You like the 
way I smell?" I asked.

He nodded.  "Yeah.  I've stolen your tee-shirts 
sometimes so I could sleep with them," he confessed.

I couldn't stop the few tears that escaped this time.  
"Oh, Mulder."

I moved further into the room and stopped by the bed.  
I undressed him first and then let him undress me.  
We kissed exposed skin as we went about our tasks, 
taking our time.  Finally, we were nude.  We stood 
and stared at one another for a minute and then I 
leaned into him and put my arms around his neck.

He bent down to kiss me again and lifted me against 
him.  I felt the evidence of his desire press into my 
belly and I moaned gently.  He backed me up and when 
my knees touched the bed, he lowered me slowly to the 
mattress.  His lips never left mine.

Now our hands really went into action, exploring 
every inch of skin we could reach.  I nearly 
levitated off the bed when his lips found my turgid 
nipples and began to suck and lick on them.  My sex 
pulsed with desire and heat and flooded with wetness.  
I'd forgotten how good this felt.

His hands were hot and it felt like he was branding 
me everywhere he touched.  He explored my breasts, my 
ribs, my navel and finally moved down to explore my 
legs, staring at the ankle and working his way back 
up until he was panting onto my moist curls. 

XXXXXXXXXX NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX

He levered my legs over his shoulders and I moaned at 
the sight of him between my legs.  He went down on me 
without a word and I shivered and bucked and whined 
before he was through.  His fingers, along with that 
talented mouth, brought me to orgasm twice before he 
released me from the torment of his oral fixation.

He moved up my body.  I expected a smug look on his 
face but was surprised by what I saw there.  Love, 
lust, but underneath that, reverence.  "Scully," he 
whispered my name like prayer.

I reached down and grabbed his penis firmly.  He 
moaned and I gasped as I realized my fingers didn't 
reach all the way around it.  Jesus, I'd though he 
was fully erect before.  Maybe I hadn't gotten a good 
enough look at it.  It felt like satin over 
throbbing, hot steel.  I stroked him and he threw his 
head back, barking out with pleasure, "Oh Fuck!"

HOLYMARYMOTHEROFGOD!  He was freakin' BIG.  The 
thickness would have been enough to freak me out 
slightly, but the length wasn't too shabby either.  I 
didn't know how long, but definitely bigger than any 
I'd had.  It had been a while, too.  "Jesus, Mulder, 
be careful with this thing," I muttered.

He laughed then and it was a sound of unadulterated 
joy.  It was a sound that I'd never heard from him 
before and it made my blood sing.  His fingers 
feathered over my labia, opening me wide.  I guided 
him to my opening, inviting him in.

He put his elbows on the bed and slid his hands under 
my back and curled them palm up over my shoulders.  
Dear Lord, he was big all over.  I rarely paid 
attention to the difference in our sizes, but it was 
glaringly apparent now.  Strangely, it didn't bother 
me.  I didn't feel overwhelmed or trapped.  I felt 
safe and aroused.

"Do it, love me, Mulder," I gasped out.

"Awwwww, God, yes!" he cried out as he sank into me, 
pressing the inconceivable mass of his member deep 
inside me. 

I heard a high-pitched whine squeeze out of the back 
of my throat and he stopped, panting.  He was 
pressing against my cervix and the pressure felt 
incredible.  I knew pressure on the cervix made some 
women feel nauseous, but it had always sent me 
flying.  I looked down and found that he was not 
fully inside me.  I wanted it all.

"I want it all," I said aloud.

He grunted.  "I thought you wanted me to be careful 
with this thing," he joked, repeating my words.

My muscles squeezed him as I laughed.  "Oh, Scully, 
stop that!"

I had to forcibly repress my laughter.  I was giddy, 
borderline hysterical.  I couldn't believe Mulder was 
inside me.  "Move," I instructed.

He began to pump slowly.  He was huge, not to the 
point of pain, but almost.  His strokes brought more 
lubrication from my body and he was soon sliding in 
and out completely without difficulty.  This was not 
to say I couldn't feel the incredible pressure as he 
spread my muscles wider than they had ever been 
spread.  I could and the feeling was divine.

I felt my womb tighten and my walls clamp around his 
shaft.  I was on the verge of orgasm after only about 
one minute.  "Oh God, how is this possible?" I 
whimpered.

XXXXXXXXXX

I was beginning to lose myself in the ecstasy of her 
body.  She was so small and snug around my cock that 
I worried I would blow it as soon as I sank into her.  
Now that I was moving, my arousal had leveled out a 
bit but the pleasure was still intense.  

When I felt her lower body stiffen and her muscles 
clamp down tighter on me, I knew she was close.  I 
leaned in and began to pump harder, making sure to 
roll my stomach over her mons, stimulating her 
clitoris.

"Oh God, this is insane!  Oh shit, it's so good.  
Aaaahhhhh, Ggggaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!" she screamed 
out as the force of her orgasm ripped through us 
both.  I kept slamming into her as her orgasm 
continued.

My mind snapped and I sank into the ecstasy of making 
love to her.  She was meeting my thrusts and I was 
beginning to sweat.  "Oh God, it's so good, Scully."

XXXXXXXXX

He pistoned his cock inside me over and over.  I was 
drenched and felt my juices trickling down between 
the cheeks of my butt.  It was as if he couldn't get 
deep enough.  I came like a firecracker, once, twice, 
three times and felt a deep flush spread through my 
body.

Then he was bellowing and his thrusts became manic 
and jerky.  He finally pushed deep, held himself 
there, buried his nose in my neck and cried out as I 
felt his warm semen splash inside me.  I could feel 
the pulsing of his shaft and it made me shiver.

He collapsed on me and went to move away.  I wrapped 
my arms and legs around him and whispered, "Stay."

XXXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX

He let his weight down tentatively and I hummed.  
"Feels good."

We panted for a couple of minutes until our breathing 
was under control.  Into the silence, he said, "I 
love you, Scully."  

When he tensed, I squeezed him tightly and said, "I 
love you too, Mulder.  I'm sorry I didn't tell you 
sooner."

"Me too, I mean, I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"I know what you mean," I replied, running my fingers 
through his hair and scratching his scalp lightly.  
It made him shiver and I loved to see him react to my 
touch.  "We made love," he said, sounding astonished.

I chuckled.  "Yes, we did."

"Can we do it again sometime?" he asked, sounding 
innocent.

I laughed harder.  "I certainly hope so," I said.

I felt his lips smile against the skin of my neck and 
then he kissed me there.  Finally, he rolled off of 
me and went onto his back.  I cuddled up to his side 
and he wrapped his arms around me.  I put a hand on 
his chest and threw my leg over his thigh, snuggling 
in close.  He made a sound of contentment in his 
throat.  "I'll never forget this case," he said.

"Why's that?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.

"Because it's when I finally got to make love to you.  
I've been waiting a long time."

"No more waiting, Mulder."

"Mmm, good," he muttered and then slipped into sleep.

XXXXXXXXXX
SEVEN ANGELS THEATER
HAMILTON PARK & PLANK ROAD
WATERBURY, CT
2:00 PM

The drop was scheduled to happen any minute now.  
David Baird was here in our car, sweating bullets.  
Anyone with any street sense would take one look at 
him and know something wasn't right.  I had an eerie 
feeling he was going to blow this.

We were parked down the street.  The kidnappers had 
said they would meet David behind the theater.  Of 
course, they would bring Tammy.  Of course, if any 
cops were spotted, they were out of there, and Tammy 
would be killed.  Of course, we had no evidence that 
Tammy was alive now.  

We had advised that he insist on some sort of proof 
that she was alive.  They said no, and he caved, 
thereby putting us in a position of having no 
leverage.  I didn't like it.  Scully didn't either.

"You ready?" I asked David Baird.

"I guess," he stammered.

"Look, Mr. Baird, you need to pull it together.  You 
look like you're about to shit your pants."

"Mulder!" Scully admonished.

I shrugged.  Baird was giving me a dirty look.  
"These guys respect strength and you have the worst 
poker face I've ever seen."

"What am I supposed to do?  I'm scared.  You would be 
too if it was your daughter out there."

"I doubt she's out there."

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

"It would be stupid for them to bring her to the 
meet.  It's fucking broad daylight, Sir.  She's not 
going to be with them."

"They promised!"

"Oh please!" I said sarcastically.

The wimp looked like he was about to cry.  "What else 
can we do, Mulder, they are expecting David Baird," 
Scully said.

I thought for a minute.  "Do they know what you look 
like?"

"I don't think so."

"They didn't request a faxed photo of who would do 
the drop?"

"No."

"Amateurs.  Look, why don't I take the suitcase?"

"What?" Scully and he cried at the same time.

"They don't know what you look like.  I could be you.  
I'm old enough to be her father."

"You pretended to be her brother," Scully reminded 
me.

"On the street.  Her kidnappers would not have shown 
themselves on that street, I guarantee it.  They may 
have lookouts who reported back, but the kidnapper or 
kidnappers were not on that street two days ago."

"What if it's Eddie Ortiz?"

"It's not Eddie.  He just protecting his racket when 
he thought Jesus was going to rat him out.  He 
doesn't give a shit about one girl in his stable."

"Mulder, a little sensitivity," Scully scolded again.

"Look, Mr. Baird, time to face facts.  These guys, 
amateurs or not, are going to chew you up and spit 
you out.  Besides, if you get hurt the Director will 
have my badge.  Let me take the suitcase with the 
money and do the drop.  Scully, you can circle around 
the theater in the other direction and provide back 
up."

"What do I do?" David asked.

I looked at him.  "Sit here and keep your fucking 
head down."



PART 4 (R)
SEVEN ANGELS THEATER
HAMILTON PARK & PLANK ROAD
WATERBURY, CT

Why the Bureau had sent him to do this personally was 
a fucking mystery.  They rarely did that unless the 
kidnappers knew the person they were demanding ransom 
from.  We'd been shocked when he showed up instead of 
an Agent posing as him.  "It's my daughter out 
there," he repeated, showing surprising tenacity.

"I know, but the best chance to get her back is to 
let me do this.  I'm armed and you're not.  If 
something goes wrong, you'll be dead before you hit 
the pavement," I said callously.  The guy didn't need 
to be any more scared but I needed to jolt him out of 
this stubborn insistence that he needed to do this 
himself 'for his daughter'."

He stared at me for a moment and I said, "We're 
running out of time.  Make a decision," I demanded.

"All right.  We'll do it your way."

"Maybe we'll get lucky and she'll be with them," I 
said, trying to soft pedal my harshness.  He nodded 
and handed the suitcase of money over the front seat.

"Let's go, Scully."

I wrenched the door open on the car and began the 
trek one block down to the theater.  The instructions 
were to approach the theater head on and then skirt 
to the left of the building, which was adjacent to 
the parking lot.  At the end of the side of the 
building, there was a gate.  I was to go through and 
slip behind the theater.  There was nothing but 
grass, trees, and shrubs back there.  You couldn't 
see the road from back there and no one on the road 
could see you because of an eight-foot high stockade 
fence that ran from the back of the theater on the 
right side along the highway, blocking your view.  
Beyond the trees was Hamilton Park, which was also 
surrounded by fence.

I strode confidently along, my eyes peeled for 
anything unusual.  I had no idea how many of these 
guys awaited me, but I assumed there was at least two 
or three.  Scully lagged behind me and when I turned 
left at the front of the theater, she kept walking.  
She was going to double back and go in the front door 
of the theater and come out the emergency exit on the 
right of the back wall of the theater if she heard 
any trouble.  The owner of the theater had left it 
unlocked for us.
 
I unclasped my holster on my waist, and pulled my 
windbreaker down over it.  Once I was alongside the 
building, I scanned the parking lot and saw nothing 
unusual, so I reached down and checked my back-up gun 
in the holster at my ankle.  I was wearing jeans with 
a boot cuff so I could cover the second gun but still 
have easy access to it if necessary.  I took a deep 
breath and proceeded to the gate. 

It was stockade fence, so I couldn't see through it 
but I stopped and held still, listening.  I heard 
nothing for about thirty seconds and then I heard 
footsteps coming toward me.  A few twigs and branches 
snapped, and leaves crackled underfoot.  They 
certainly weren't making any effort to be quiet.

The footsteps stopped and I continued to listen.  One 
of them said, "Where is he?"

"He'll be here."

"He's late," the first one said.

The second one said, "One minute.  Don't get jumpy 
yet."

"Think he'd be stupid enough to bring the cops?"

"Not if he wants to see Tammy alive again."

"Remind me why we're doing this?"

"Because we discovered one of our favorite whores had 
a rich daddy and I don't feel like spending the rest 
of my fucking life in the Waterbury projects.  Now 
shut up and wait."

"This better work or Eddie will kill us for taking 
one of his girls."

"I said, SHUT.  UP."

Silence again.  I backed up silently and then made 
noise as I took a couple steps toward the fence.  I 
pushed it open, carrying the case in my left hand so 
I could draw with my right if I needed to.

There were only two of them.  Neither was from the 
street two days ago and I breathed a sigh of relief.  
That had been a partial bluff on my part.  I 
suspected it wasn't Eddie's gang that had done this, 
but I really wasn't sure.  I had nothing to back up 
my suspicions, just intuition and instinct, which I 
knew read poorly on a case report.

"I'm here," I announced firmly.  "Where's Tammy?" I 
asked immediately.

One of the guys smiled.  They were both wearing gang 
color jackets and I was ashamed to say I couldn't 
identify them.  I really should bone up on that kind 
of stuff.  I did know they were Latino.  "She's safe.  
You David Baird?"

"No, I'm fucking Mickey Mouse.  Where's my daughter, 
you punk?" I hollered, figuring they would expect me 
to be upset.
 
"Hand over the money and we'll tell you where she 
is."

I did a quick calculation in my head.  "No."

"What, motherfucker?"

"I said no.  No Tammy, no money."

"Show us the money, we'll take you to Tammy."

"No Tammy, no money," I repeated.

"You think you're tough, motherfucker?" the first one 
asked.  He seemed to be the leader of this cluster 
fuck.

He pulled a gun and I held up my free hand.  "Put the 
case on the ground and open it up.  Show me the 
money."

Was his dialogue straight from the Jerry McGuire 
movie?  What the hell?  He was an idiot.  That didn't 
make him any less deadly, maybe more so, in fact.  I 
bent down slowly and set the case on the ground.  I 
flipped the latches and carefully opened the 
suitcase.  It was piled neatly with one million 
dollars in tens, twenties and fifties, just as 
requested.  They were all marked bills.

"Close it," he said, waving the barrel of the gun at 
me.  

I did as requested, snapped it closed and stood back 
up.  I put my free hand on my waist, like I was 
nervous.  "Where's Tammy?" I asked again.

"Follow me, we'll take you to her."

"I'm not an idiot.  I'm not falling for that.  You 
bring her here.  I'll wait."

"No, I think you'll come with us," he sneered and 
stepped into me, pressing the barrel of the gun to my 
head.

"All right, don't shoot!" I hollered.

He grabbed my arm and began marching me into the 
trees.  Just then I heard a scream from out in the 
woods off to my left.  "Oh shit," the second one 
said.

"Didn't you gag the bitch?" my captor snarled.

"Yeah!"

While they were engaged in this little conversation, 
I heard the door to the theater creak open but 
neither one of them noticed.  Kidnapper number two 
was running into the woods, supposedly to re-gag his 
captive.  Well, at least that meant she was alive and 
close.  I didn't dare turn my head.  I had no idea 
how trigger happy this kid was.  

I thought I heard another noise and my captor twisted 
backwards to look behind us.  He still held my arm 
but the barrel of the gun slipped away from the back 
of my skull.  I didn't hesitate.  I slammed my elbow 
backwards into his solar plexus.  I heard his grunt 
and swung around to see Scully in a firing stance 
behind us.  He swung his arm to level the gun at me 
and I charged him, throwing my whole body weight into 
him and grabbing his wrist that held the gun.  We 
crashed to the ground and he squeezed the trigger.

The shot echoed through the woods.  Scully was beside 
me in seconds.  I pried the gun out of his hand and 
she helped me roll him over.  We dragged back a few 
feet against the fence and Scully securely cuffed his 
hands to the main post of the gate. 

I stuck his weapon into my pants and drew my own.  
"What the fuck, man?  Who the fuck are you?"

I didn't know if he was addressing Scully or me.  
"Not your lucky day, handsome," I said.  "Watch him.  
Call for backup," I said to Scully.  She nodded.

I slipped into the woods and headed off in the same 
general direction the other punk had headed.  I'd 
only gone about twenty feet when I heard idiot number 
two coming my way.  He was running.  "I heard a shot!  
What are you fucking crazy?  Did you kill him?"

Just then he came around a tree and into view and 
nearly ran right into the muzzle of my Sig. 

"WHOA!" he hollered and raised his hands.  

"You got any weapons on you?"

"No, man."

"Keep your hands up."

I patted him down with one hand, keeping my gun on 
him and then pulled cuffs off my belt and wrenched 
his arms around behind him.  "Where is Tammy?" 

He hesitated and I jerked up on his arms, nearly 
pulling them out of socket.  "Owww, fuck, man.  I'll 
show you!"

"Start walking," I commanded.

He took me through the woods another forty feet or so 
and we emerged behind an isolated apartment building.  
He led me to a dumpster.  He indicated it with a tilt 
of his head.  "She's in the dumpster?" I asked.

"Yeah, man."

I shoved him down on his knees, face first into the 
brick of the building.  "Don't move or you're a dead 
man."

"Who are you?"

"FBI."

"Awww, fuck me."

"No, you're not my type," I shot back.  I hurriedly 
lifted the lid and had to lever myself up on my arms 
to look inside.  Sure enough, there was a woman in 
the bottom of the empty dumpster.  She was hog-tied; 
her hands behind her back and tied to her ankles.  
She was gagged with a bandanna.  She looked up at me 
with terrified eyes.

"I'm gonna get you out," I said.  

She nodded.  I jumped down and saw some milk crates.  
I jammed my Sig back in its holster and picked them 
up, bringing them back over to the dumpster.  I 
looked at the kidnapper.  "You budge away from that 
wall and you'll be amazed at how fast I can move."

He nodded.  I hiked myself up on the milk crates and 
hung my torso into the dumpster.  The smell of 
rotting garbage nearly turned my stomach.  I was just 
able to reach her, but not enough to get a hold of 
her to pull her up.  "Can you sit up?"

She had a difficult time with her arms and legs tied, 
but she wiggled around until her back was against the 
front of the dumpster and she was on her knees with 
her legs bent up behind her.  "Sorry," I said in 
advance as I grabbed her under the armpits and heaved 
her upwards.  She groaned behind the gag, but came 
out of the dumpster fairly unscathed.  I set her down 
gently and untied her gag.  I then pulled out my 
pocketknife and cut the rope that was tying her arms 
and legs.  

She shouted in pain as her arms and legs straightened 
out and the blood flowed into them.  I picked her up 
and walked back the few feet to the grass at the edge 
of the trees and set her down.  Just then Scully 
emerged, marching kidnapper number one in front of 
her, the briefcase of money in her left hand.

"Scully, check her out.  I'll call for a pick up and 
let them know where we are."

She shoved her guy down against the wall next to 
mine, and then turned to tend to the girl.  "I'm a 
doctor, Tammy.  I'm Special Agent Dana Scully."

The girl just stared at her with wide eyes.  She was 
clearly in shock.  She rubbed her arms and legs 
helping her circulation come back and checked her for 
other injuries.  She didn't seem to be in too bad a 
shape.  She was dehydrated and hungry, bruised and 
had a few cuts, but overall, not in bad shape.  It 
was a miracle.

The local black and white arrived in just a few 
minutes.  They took kidnapper number one first, but I 
surreptitiously motioned for them to wait on the 
second one.

When his friend was out of sight, I looked at my 
kidnapper and said, "What's your name?"

"Mud, now, man."

"Besides that."

"Dennis."

"Dennis what?"

"Fernandez," he replied.

"Well, Mr. Fernandez.  Today is not your lucky day 
over all.  However, I'm happy to report that since 
the girl is alive, you are in better shape than if 
she wasn't.  Since you had no weapon and didn't 
threaten a federal officer's life, you're also in 
better shape than your buddy back there."

"What are you saying?"

"You drop a dime on him as the mastermind and the 
muscle and you could walk away from this light."

He stared at me.  "He's my brother."

"For real?"

"No, man.  My brother, you know."

"Your gang brother," I clarified.

"Yeah."

"Well, let me let you in a little secret, Dennis.  If 
you don't help convict your brother, that got you 
arrested for federal kidnapping, you're going away 
for a long time.  You didn't just kidnap a rich 
businessman's daughter."

He gulped.  "We didn't?"

"No, she's the Director of the FBI's niece, you 
asshole.  You think he's going to be lenient on you.  
I'll bet he has a lot of pull with whatever Judge 
sits on this one."

"Oh fuck," he muttered.

"Think about it.  I could tell he was behind this."

He nodded.  "I'll think about it."

I nodded to the cop and he marched him away to the 
squad car sitting out on the street.

By now, David Baird had seen the cop cars screech by 
and got out of the driver's seat and followed them 
through the trees.  He came running to the back of 
the building and cried out when he saw Tammy sitting 
on the grass.  He rushed to her and grabbed her in a 
fierce hug.  She grunted and winced. 

He apologized and they both cried, obviously happy to 
see each other.  There were problems there.  She 
didn't run away and become a prostitute for no 
reason, but that part was none of my business.  David 
Baird pumped my hand until I thought it would fall 
off, showering us with praise. 

The ambulance arrived and took Tammy to Waterbury 
Hospital Emergency Room to be checked out.  We 
followed to see how things went.  She was treated and 
released and by the time we left there was a crowd of 
reporters outside.  

We hustled them into the car and drove to the hotel.  
David had rented a suite himself.  We made the 
necessary phone calls and finished our final report.  
We decided to spend the night and head back in the 
morning.  We were both exhausted and fell into bed 
together.  We were too tired for a repeat performance 
of the previous night.  It didn't matter though.  
Now, I knew there would be lots of tomorrows to look 
forward to.

XXXXXXXXXX
CROWN PLAZA MARRIOTT
ROOM 312
WATERBURY, CT

My cell phone was ringing and I rolled over, grabbing 
it off the bedside table.  "Mulder," I croaked.

There was a hesitation and then I heard Skinner ask, 
"Agent Mulder?"

"Yeah."

He sounded amused when he asked, "Did I wake you?"

"Yeah, you did as a matter of fact.  We had a big day 
yesterday."

"So I heard."  I could hear the humor in his voice. 

"What's so funny?"

"Why are you answering Agent Scully's phone?" he 
asked casually.

"Oh shit," I mumbled, covering the phone with my 
hand.  He heard me anyway and I could hear him 
chuckling.

Scully poked her head out and I handed her the phone, 
mouthing, "It's Skinner."

Her eyes went wide but she took the phone from me 
clearing her throat.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Hello, Sir.  What can I do for you?" I asked in what 
I hoped was my best professional voice.

"Tell Agent Mulder to relax.  Your secret is safe 
with me."

"Excuse me, Sir?"

"He just answered your phone, Agent Scully."

"We do that sometimes, Sir, answer each other's 
phones."

"At five o'clock in the morning?" he asked.

"What?" I asked, my eyes darting to the clock. 

He just laughed on the other end of the phone.  
"Don't worry about it.  Listen, I'm in early today."

"Obviously," I said, unable to keep the sarcasm out 
of my voice.  It only made him chuckle more.  "Are we 
in trouble now?"

"Nope, not at all.  Like I said, your secret's safe 
with me.  In fact, the Director is very pleased and 
can't wait to get you back to D.C. to thank you 
personally."

"Oh yeah?  What did we win?" I asked.

I could hear the laughter in his voice.  "A few 
goodies.  I'll tell you all about them when you get 
here.  I'm calling because he's really anxious to 
have your final report.  Is there any way you could 
e-mail it to me before you catch your flight?"

"Of course, Sir.  I'll get right on that, as soon as 
I wake up," I deadpanned.

He was entirely too amused by this situation.  "Thank 
you.  That's all, Agent Scully.  Have a good flight."

He hung up and I snapped the phone closed and 
groaned, burying my face in the pillow.  Mulder 
rolled me over and was grinning from ear to ear.  
"What's so funny?" I groaned.

"Sounds like he approves."

"I wouldn't get cocky."

He pressed his erection into my leg.  "I'm plenty 
cocky," he retorted.

"You're incorrigible."

"You love me anyway," he said.

I smiled.  "Yes, I do.  Now get your butt in the 
shower.  We have an early flight."

He stuck out his bottom lip and pouted and I was 
tempted to suck on it but I knew where that would 
lead.  The next time we made love, I wanted it to be 
in my bed.  "Next time in my bed," I informed him.
His eyes lit up and I kissed his nose.  "Up!"

He finally slid out of bed, gloriously nude.  I 
sighed as I watched that fantastic butt make its way 
into the bathroom.  "Joining me, Scully?" he shouted 
from beyond the door.

"Is it safe?"

"Of course!" he chortled.

Well, this was never going to be dull.

THE END.