Home Is Where the Heart Is
by Dianora
*NC17*

This is a sequel to "You Can't Go Home Again."  I prefer you 
read that first, although this story perhaps stands on its own, more 
or less.  If you don't have a copy, e-mail me.
A few notes: When I say NC17, I mean it.  This story is quite explicit, 
so if you are offended by graphic portrayals of sexual activity, you 
might want to avoid this.  Of course, if you like that sort of thing, you're 
in for a treat.  :)  My note at the beginning of "Wine" also holds true 
here: this is a *fantasy*, so in my fantasy there are no STDs.  I'm too 
lazy to account for condom use here.  If you want, just assume they're 
using them, even though it's not mentioned.
All anti-relationshippers, please note this story takes place sometime 
in 1998, so I hope that appeases you a little bit. :)
This is not an X-File, it is a tale of a turning point in Mulder and Scully's 
relationship.  A third installment in this "Home" series is already in the 
works.  If you have any thoughts on the future of this series, please 
share them.  And if you like what you read, please let me know that, 
too!  I love getting mail.  You can e-mail me at Dianora2@aol.com
Finally, I don't usually put songs at the beginning of stories, but I've 
always thought this song was perfect for M&S's relationship, and in 
retrospect seemed to fit especially well with this story.

Fox Mulder and Dana Scully and the mentioned but not seen Samantha 
Mulder are properties of Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions, and 
Twentieth Century Fox.  No copyright infringement or offense is intended.

XXXXXXXX

I had no choice but to hear you
You stated your case time and again
I thought about it

You treat me like I'm a princess
I'm not used to liking that
You ask how my day was

You've already won me over in spite of me
Don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault

Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole
You're so much braver than I gave you credit for
That's not lip service

You've already won me over in spite of me
Don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault

You are the bearer of unconditional things
You held your breath and the door for me
Thanks for your patience

You're the best listener that I've ever met
You're my best friend
Best friend with benefits
What took me so long

I've never felt this healthy before
I've never wanted something rational
I am aware now
I am aware now

You've already won me over in spite of me
Don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault

--"Head Over Feet," Alanis Morrisette

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Fox Mulder wadded up another ball of paper and aimed for the 
wastebasket at the other side of the office.  He aims, he shoots...
he scores!  Yeah.  Big fucking deal.

He let out a loud sigh, reveling in how pathetic he sounded.  It had 
been over a week since that night on Martha's Vineyard, when he 
had put it all on the line and kissed his partner.  He played the scene 
again in his head for what had to be the millionth time.  Amazing that 
he could still get aroused, just thinking about it days later.  He had 
wanted more, God how he had wanted more, but Scully had said she 
needed to think about it.  Correction, she had said she needed *one 
night* to think about it.  And that one night had somehow turned into a 
week and a half.  It was brilliant, really, how she managed to keep 
putting him off, always changing the subject, coming up with some 
lame excuse for why she couldn't be alone with him unless they were 
working.  He wished they were on a case, at least, to have something 
else to concentrate on, but the serial killers out there were being terribly 
uncooperative.  No, all he had to look forward to every morning was 
dealing with Dana and a mound of paperwork, all the paperwork he had 
been setting aside for the past six months, patiently waiting for when he 
had the time to take care of it.  Well, he sure as hell had the time now.  
Scowling, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and turned 
his attention back to the requisition form he had been trying to decipher.

He was in the middle of a particularly inventive stream of obscenities 
brought on by confusion over which cost center to indicate on the form 
when he heard the door to the basement office open.  Scully.  "Where 
have you been?" he asked without turning around.

"Lunch with my mom," he heard her say.  He listened to the sound of 
heels clicking on the slate floor, then the scent of her perfume enveloped 
him.  He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, savoring the fragrance.  
When he was good and ready, he turned around to see her standing a 
couple of feet away from him, a tentative smile on her face.  She had 
been walking on eggshells around him lately, probably because she knew 
he was constantly on the verge of either grabbing her and kissing her 
passionately, or throttling her until she turned blue.

"What are you doing?" she asked softly.

He smiled sheepishly and gestured to the form.  "Trying to order toner for 
the printer.  But I can't figure out which sub-account number I'm supposed 
to use."

"Let me see."  She leaned over him to examine the havoc he was wreaking, 
tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear.

I am looking straight ahead of me, Mulder told himself firmly.  I am most 
certainly not going to shift my head just the slightest bit to see down her 
shirt--okay, well, I'm only human, after all.  Beige bra this time.  He gulped.

"Here, Mulder.  It's 538480."  She wrote the numbers in for him in her 
precise hand.  Abruptly, she seemed to become aware of their proximity 
and tensed up noticeably, although she didn't move away from him. He 
could practically feel the air crackle around them.  Silence, then.  
Uncomfortable, tension-filled silence.  He held his breath, although he 
wasn't sure why.  On impulse he reached out and covered her hand with 
his.  They both froze, staring at their hands touching on his desk.

"We can't go on like this, Dana," he whispered.  "I can't go on like this."

"Mulder..."  Slowly, she withdrew her hand from his.  "Not now.  I can't deal 
with this here.  I...I have a consultation with someone in Behavioral about a 
case.  I'll see you later."

And then he was alone in the silent, dusty office, wondering where he 
had gone wrong.

****

Dana walked along the edge of the reflecting pool, lost in thought.  It had 
been pretty lousy of her to lie to Mulder about that consultation, but she 
had had to get out of that office; she had thought she would suffocate if 
she stayed there one minute longer.  She chewed her lower lip pensively.  
For the past week and a half she had not been able to think about anything 
except that night in her hotel room after the reunion, had gone over it in her 
head again and again.  Just thinking about it made her head swim.  It had 
felt so good, so right, and yet...and yet, it scared the hell out of her.  There 
were so many variables to consider, so many things that could go wrong.  
She had wanted to talk to her mom about it over lunch, but she just hadn't 
been able to form the words, to say, Fox Mulder kissed me, and I liked it, 
and I can't stop thinking about it and I wish I had let him do more.

She rubbed her eyes tiredly, mentally reviewing once again all the reasons 
they *should not* do this.  Their partnership, that was obvious.  Their friendship...
God, if she lost his friendship, she would just die.  She couldn't even imagine 
that loss.

And then there was Samantha.

Should she even consider becoming romantically involved with someone 
with as much emotional baggage as Fox Mulder?  Did she really want to be 
with someone who would constantly be putting his quest for his sister and 
the truth before her own needs, someone with all of his emotional and 
psychological problems?  The nightmares?  The despair and rage bottled up 
inside of him with no sign of ever being released?  Was she willing to dedicate 
the rest of her life to dealing with this on both a professional *and* a personal 
basis?  As it was, Mulder needed her more than he needed anyone.  Did 
she have the right to make that need even more intrinsic, more intense?  
Did *he* deserve that?

She shook her head ruefully, since most of the answers were obvious.  She 
*already* dealt with Mulder's problems, with his obssession.  He was *already* 
the most important person in her life, and vice versa.  He *already* needed 
her like he needed air to breathe, she knew that.  She was *already* dealing 
with the nightmares, and the despair, and the rage.  She was *already* 
dealing with it on more than just a professional basis.  And hell, she wasn't 
even getting any good sex out of it!

And as far as their partnership went, they already risked their lives for each 
other time and again.  She couldn't see how a sexual relationship would 
increase the chances they were willing to take for each other.  They would 
already do anything for each other, die for each other; she didn't see how 
that could possibly be intensified.

The Samantha issue lingered, though.  She didn't relish the idea of always 
coming in second.  But would she really always be the runner-up?

In the end, only one thing mattered, really.  She loved him, had for a long 
time, although she had never before been able to admit it to herself.  She 
loved him so much that the past few days it hurt to breathe whenever she 
looked at him.  And after all they had been through, after all they had both 
been made to suffer, didn't they deserve to find what happiness they could, 
wherever they could?  *They* had taken so much from Mulder and her; 
didn't the two of them have a right to something *they* couldn't touch or 
take away?  They could both be dead tomorrow, and then there would be 
nothing but regrets and what-ifs.  Or she could get sick...

Her frustrated sigh drew curious looks from those strolling nearby.  She 
headed back to work and half-hoped Mulder would do his best to persuade 
her to his side.  She could use the push.

****

When she returned to the office, she discovered that Mulder had abandoned 
his paperwork and was now playing some sort of sci-fi shoot-em-up game 
on the computer.  "How did your consult go?" he asked, without looking 
away from the screen.

"Hmm?  Oh, fine, just fine."  She hung up her trenchcoat and sat down at 
her desk, picking up the file sitting at the top of her "in" box.  She tried to 
concentrate on the report it contained, but soon found herself more focused 
on the sounds of Mulder's fingers clicking on the keyboard as he endeavored 
to save the universe.  This is getting ridiculous, she thought.

"Scully, would you go out with me?"

Her head jerked up, eyes wide with shock.  "Excuse me?"  She couldn't 
possibly have heard what she thought she did.

He looked at her shyly, the game forgotten for the moment.  "You know...
on a date.  I want you to go out on a date with me.  I'd like to take you out 
to dinner."

She licked her lips nervously.  "A date.  Like when two people go out 
with romantic intentions."

"Well, yeah, if you want to get Webster on me, I suppose that's one 
definition," he said sarcastically.  She could practically see his defenses 
going up, and she felt a sharp pang that any man should have to feel that 
protective of his own psyche.  But she had to be honest with him.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, Mulder.  I mean, what happened 
after the reunion...that was one thing.  Actually going out on a date, like 
normal people, I don't know if I could handle that."

" Hey, if we're *lucky* we'll have a terrible time and never try it again," he 
said caustically, his defenses locking into place.

"Mulder, don't you think we're kind of beyond the dating stage?"

"How will we know for sure unless we try it?"

God, she hated it when he made sense.  "Okay, okay, I'll go."

"Try not to sound so enthusiastic."

"I'm sorry.  Really, I am," she told him, smiling reassuringly.

"I'll pick you up at eight, okay?"

"Fine."

****

Dana surveyed the disaster area that her bedroom had become, hands on
 her hips.  "Wow."  It was amazing what she had managed to do it in one 
hour.  Clothes and shoes were strewn everywhere.  She couldn't even see 
her bed anymore.  Picking an outfit for this thing had proved to be nearly 
impossible.  She didn't want to look too alluring, but not too modest, either.  
Not too dressy, but not too casual.  About eight different outfits had been 
tried on and discarded in an uncharacteristic fit of indecision.  She finally 
settled on a knee-length midnight blue satin Mandarin-style dress, embroidered 
with white and gold-threaded dragons and flower blossoms, with cloth-covered 
buttons running diagonally across her chest and then down the side.  Small 
gold hoop earrings and her black patent-leather T-straps completed the outfit.  
She had even gone a little crazy and worn her one pair of thigh-high black 
stockings that she had picked up on a whim at Victoria's Secret one rainy 
Sunday afternoon.  She curled her hair so that the earrings showed, and used 
a little mousse for volume, although not as much as she had used at the reunion.  
That had felt a little weird, in retrospect.  When she was ready, she sat primly 
on the couch, black evening bag in her lap, heavy with the weight of her omnipresent 
Smith and Wesson, and was truly impressed at how much her hands were 
sweating.  You'd think she was about to take the MCATs again.  Or go out on 
a first date, she thought sardonically.  She still didn't think this was a good idea.  
They were already best friends, what was the point of a *date*?

The doorbell rang, and she jumped. Show time.  She took a few deep breaths, 
tugged at her dress, fluffed her hair a little, and opened the door.  "Hi."

He was leaning against the doorjamb, holding a bouquet of yellow roses, and 
wearing a blue chambray shirt and khaki pants.  He looked fabulous.  She 
didn't even know he *owned* khakis.  "Hi.  Wow, Scully, you look great," he 
said appreciatively.  "These are for you."

"Mulder, you didn't have to do this!  They're beautiful.  Yellow roses are my 
favorite."

"I know."

She rolled her eyes.  "Of course you do."

****

He held the door open for her as she got into the car.

That thought kept running through her mind like a mantra as he drove her in 
silence toward a destination unknown.  He had held the car door open for her, 
like some guy named Biff in the 1950s.  What the hell was that all about?  
Mulder had suddenly been replaced by Eddie Haskell.  It was distinctly 
unnerving.

Mulder pulled the car over and turned off the ignition, and she was startled 
to realize they were parked in front of his apartment building.  "Did you forget 
something?"

He smiled enigmatically.  "No.  Come on."  He got out of the car and she 
followed suit, hastily opening the passenger-side door before he could get 
to it.  He placed his hand at the small of her back and guided her to his 
apartment, whistling softly as he turned the key in the lock and gestured 
her inside.

"Mulder..."  She couldn't believe the sight that greeted her.  The apartment 
was clean, for one thing, and that was strange enough.  But the rest...  A 
beautiful centerpiece of freshly-cut flowers was the focal point of an elegantly 
set table, a table that Scully had never before seen used for anything other 
than as a dumping ground for old newspapers and pornographic videos.  
Lit candles were everywhere: two on the table, more on top of the television, 
on the desk, and on the endtables, casting soft light and delicate shadows 
throughout the room.  There was no other light in the room; none was needed.  
A classic, slow Motown tune played faintly in the background.  She looked 
up at him inquisitively, one eyebrow arched, jaw hanging open in what she 
knew must be a truly amusing sight.

"This is our date," he said simply, shrugging his shoulders.  He took her 
hand and led her to the table.  "Sit down.  I'll get dinner."

She took her seat in a daze and watched in amazement as he entered the 
small kitchen and came back with a tray that held two dishes, each one 
covered with a silver dome.  He set hers down in front of her, then his at 
the other place setting, and set the tray aside.  When he lifted the covers 
off of each plate with a flourish, Dana found herself looking down at lobster 
tails, a baked potato, and fresh broccoli.  "You didn't cook this, did you?" 
she squeaked.  That, she would never believe.

He snorted.  "Hell, no.  It's catered.  I'm not trying to kill you, for crying 
out loud."

"Mulder, this meal is so...healthy."

"Well, I hope you appreciate the things I do for you, Scully."  He poured 
each of them a glass of Chardonnay, then sat down across from her.  
He lifted his glass.  "To new beginnings?"

She nodded hesitantly, taking a sip of the wine.  Good stuff.  Impressive.

The meal passed quickly, and they of course had no trouble making 
conversation, most of it work-related, but every now and then an 
uncomfortable silence would creep in, a type of silence with which they 
were unaccustomed.  It was an odd feeling, and Scully idly wished they 
would just have mad, wild sex on top of the table to dissipate the tension.  
She chuckled to herself.

"What's so funny?"

"What?  Oh, I'm sorry.  Nothing.  I was just...remembering a joke."  He 
looked at her suspiciously, but let it drop.

Dessert was chocolate-covered strawberries, replete with whipped cream.  
She stared down at her plate and wondered just how many cliches Mulder 
was going to pull out of his hat this evening.  Didn't he understand that he 
didn't have to do this, not for her?  She didn't need soft music, or fine dining, 
or chocolate-covered fruit.  She just needed...him.

He stood suddenly, and extended a hand toward her.  "Would you like to 
dance?"

She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Oh, it was so 
unfair of her to be amused by this.  He was being unbelievably sweet and 
wonderful.  "I'd love to."

"A Whiter Shade of Pale" played softly as Scully stepped into Mulder's arms.  
He held her carefully, as if he were afraid she would break, one hand resting 
on her waist, the other holding her hand.  She moved in closer and rested her
 head against his chest, inhaling the warm, masculine scent of him.  His lips 
brushed the top of her head, and she snuggled closer.  If only they could stay 
like this forever, just holding each other, swaying to the music, shutting out 
the rest of the world.  She thought of their dance at the reunion, when Mulder 
had told her no one understood him the way she did.  And she had told him 
she felt the same way about him.  And it was true.  Oh God, was she in trouble.  
She was in deep and there was no turning back.  She knew that now.  Resolve
 formed in the pit of her stomach.  For once, Dana, she thought, can't you just 
make a decision that will actually make you *happy*?

She pulled away from him before she could change her mind, took a step back. 
"I can't do this, Mulder.  This is silly."

"What?" he croaked.

"This is just too...weird.  When I think of you, I don't think of wine and flowers 
and slow music.  And quite frankly, I don't want to."  His eyes narrowed in 
confusion, and she hastened to reassure him.  "It's just that that's not us.  
We're Chinese take-out and old movies and just sitting around, shooting the 
shit and arguing theories.  And I love all those things, Mulder, love sharing 
them with you.  God, Mulder, if I wanted all..." and she gestured to encompass 
the room, "...this , I would have found myself someone else by now."

He ran a hand through his hair, embarrassed.  "I know.  I knew that as soon 
as I brought you here.  I just thought that maybe if you saw me in a traditional 
romantic way, with some sort of...structure about it, it would help you make up 
your mind about all this."

"Mulder..."  What a dear, sweet, infuriating man.  "You don't have to woo me.  
I'm already won."

"Dana, what are you saying?" he asked hoarsely, stepping closer to her.

She took a deep breath and met his eyes.  Here goes nothing.  "I'm saying I l
ove you.  I'm in love with you. I can't remember a time when I wasn't."

His face lit up with a happiness she had never seen there before.  "I love 
you, too, Dana.  More than anything," he whispered tenderly, caressing her 
cheek with his palm.

More than Samantha?  she wanted to say, but instantly knew she never could 
say such a thing to him.  Nonetheless, the nagging thought persisted that she 
would always be secondary in his heart to his lost sister.  She pushed it aside, 
concentrated on the fact that he was now pulling her close, pressing his body 
against hers.

"Dana..."  He kissed her then, leisurely, sensuously, parting her lips with his 
tongue and slipping inside, exploring her mouth as if they had all the time in 
the world.  She returned the kiss fully, running her tongue along his, along 
his teeth, her hands roaming over his back, feeling his strong muscles 
beneath the linen shirt.  Dana couldn't imagine any kiss being more special 
than this one, more exhilirating, more intense.  He pulled away and began 
kissing her neck, running his tongue up and down that sweet skin with 
maddening slowness, nuzzling her gently.  She licked her lips with desire, 
thrilling at the feel of his mouth on her.  He carressed her breasts gingerly, 
and this time she let him, this time she wanted even more from him, could 
hardly believe how desperately she wanted more.  She reached down to 
squeeze that gorgeous, firm ass of his, and he looked at her in surprise.  
She gave him a barely perceptible nod, and he smiled.  As always with 
their partnership, no words were needed.

He began to slowly undo the buttons on her dress, and she watched him, 
paralyzed, as if in a dream.  Somewhere in the back of her mind it registered 
that his hands were trembling, and she was touched by his nervousness.  
He knelt down to finish undoing all the buttons, and she just stood there, her 
pulse racing, looking down at him.  "Too many buttons," he muttered, but she 
could hear the smile in his voice.  She let out a low, intimate laugh.  When 
he was done, he rose back up and inch by inch slid the dress off of her, 
letting it fall soundlessly to the floor.

He swallowed hard, looking at Dana Scully standing before him in nothing but 
a black satin bra and panty set, black thigh-high stockings, and black high 
heels.  Jesus Mary and Joseph.  His wildest fantasies didn't even come 
close to the real thing.  He pushed aside one bra strap and kissed her 
shoulder, and he actually felt her knees give out a little.  He lingered there, 
sucking at the skin, gradually pushing the other strap down as well.  As 
he caressed her breasts through the black satin of her bra, he felt the tips 
harden, responding to his touch. Her fingers groped at his chest, undoing 
the buttons there.  He smiled against her neck, then helped her, taking 
the shirt off and throwing it on the floor behind him.  She ran her hands 
over his bare chest and pinched his nipples as he let out a gasp of surprised 
pleasure.  He responded by gently unhooking the front clasp of her bra, 
freeing her ivory-skinned breasts.  He lazily slid the black straps down 
her arms until the undergarment joined her dress at her feet.  She closed 
her eyes in delicious anticipation, and he took his time about it, kneeling 
before her, then delicately tracing her breasts with his fingertips, letting 
her feel his hot breath on them, his mouth hovering just above them until 
she emitted a frustrated sound from deep in her throat.  Slowly, oh so 
slowly, he took one nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, his teeth 
closing on the hardened pink tip.  He placed his hands against her back 
and pulled her closer to him as she tangled her fingers in his hair.  He stayed 
there for long moments, suckling at one breast, then the other, then back to 
the first one, biting and teasing hungrily, but with a certain languidness, 
wanting this to last as long as possible.  She threw her head back and arched 
against him, the tingling running from her breasts straight down to her groin, 
making her wet with desire.  He eventually abandoned her breasts and traveled 
lower, pressing his mouth against the black satin of her panties, breathing hard, 
kissing her there
through the smooth cloth.

"Jesus, Mulder..."

At the sound of her voice he straightened and caught her up in his arms, 
feeling vaguely like Fabio but not caring, and carried her to the bedroom, her 
eyes locked on his with an intensity that took his breath away.  He eased her 
down onto the bed, then began to remove his clothing.  She kicked off her 
shoes, and just watched him with a predatory gleam in her blue eyes as he 
discarded his own shoes, socks, and pants, leaving only his boxers.  He 
gently climbed on top of her on the bed and began kissing her, trying to put 
all of his love and desire and happiness into it, feeling like a man who had 
been dying of thirst drinking from a cool pool of water.  She kissed him back 
passionately, holding his face in her hands, sliding her legs against his 
seductively.  He pulled away finally and began to slowly roll her stockings
 off one by one, rubbing his hands against the bare skin, stopping occasionally 
to plant kisses on her smooth white legs.

When he was finished, his hands traveled up her legs to the top of her panties 
and paused there.  "This is it, Dana.  Last chance to back out," he said hoarsely.  
She just looked at him and shook her head, not trusting her voice at the 
moment.  He smiled affectionately at her, then slid the panties off her and 
threw them on the floor beside the bed.  She pushed at the waistband of 
his boxers, and he wriggled out of them obligingly.  He gasped as she eagerly 
took him in her hand and stroked him expertly, until he was so hard he thought 
he would explode.  Bracing himself on his arms, he kissed her, murmured 
her name like a prayer, and entered her swiftly.  She cried out at first, but 
sighed with pleasure as he began to move within her with soft, sure strokes.  
They moved together in the oldest dance, as she arched up against him, 
tilting her hips to bring him in deeper, matching each thrust of his with her 
own.  "Tell me you love me," he whispered desperately.

"I love you.  Oh God, I love you so much," she breathed, opening her eyes 
to look at him.  The tempo increased as they continued to rock together, 
gasping, moaning with pleasure.  She locked her feet behind his hips and 
cried out with each thrust, willing him to move even quicker, harder.  "Faster," 
she commanded him, surprised at her own boldness.

"Christ, Dana, you're driving me crazy," he whispered, mindlessly obeying her.  
He was beyond all thought, all reason, focused only on the pleasure coursing 
through his body and the woman writhing beneath him, enveloping him.

All too soon, Dana felt the familiar pressure building inside of her, and she 
screamed out to heaven as she went over the edge, contracting around him.  
Her convulsions took him to the limit, and he came as well, crying her name 
and falling on top of her, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her 
possessively.  Neither of them moved as they struggled to catch their breath.

"There's no turning back now, is there," Dana said finally, her voice muffled 
by his chest.

He withdrew from her reluctantly, then rolled over, lying beside her and taking 
her into his arms, kissing her forehead.  "No."

She looked up at him with wide, trusting eyes.  "Okay," she said simply.

He tightened his hold on her.  "Do you have any idea how many times I've
 imagined this?  How many times I've dreamed of it?"

"Yes.  Yes, I do, believe me."  She snuggled up against his chest, placing little 
kisses in the sparse hair there.  They were quiet for a while, then she let out a 
short, sudden, laugh.  "God, Mulder, do you know how I feel right now?"

"Very pleased with yourself?" he asked lightly.

"I'm serious, Mulder.  For the first time in years, I feel... I feel *safe*."  She 
looked up at him to see his reaction.

Tears glistened in his hazel eyes.  "I promise to keep you that way, Dana," 
he said raggedly.  "I promise..."  He kissed her roughly, needily, and she 
responded, reaching up to twine her arms around his neck.  Without warning 
she deftly flipped him over on his back so that she was lying on top of him.  
She hovered above him for a moment, her hair obscuring her face, and drank 
in the sight of his naked body.  Then, taking her time, she began raining 
kisses on his chest, traveling down, pausing to suck on each nipple until he 
groaned, burying his fingers in her auburn hair.  She made her way leisurely 
down to his now swollen sex, holding it with one hand and running her tongue 
up and down the shaft, then circling the head with it.  She placed feathery 
kisses there, then took him into her mouth, sucking hard, her head bobbing 
up and down as she built up a rhythm for him.  "Oh, Dana," he whimpered 
softly, as her hand cradled his balls, squeezing them gently.  Finally, when 
he was sure the top of his head would come off, she stopped.  With confident, 
deliberate movements, she straddled him, gripped him firmly, and guided him 
inside of her, plunging down onto him, taking him into her hot, moist sheath.  
She rode him hard, urgently, with none of the languidness of their initial joining. 
He reached up to cup her breasts, squeezing the nipples, mesmerized by the 
sight of her undulating on top of him, her head thrown back, eyes closed in 
pleasure.  She was like some earth goddess, consecrating the land by coupling 
with the Sacred King.  He thought to himself that she never seemed so 
incandescent as she did at that moment, glorying in the ecstasy of their 
union.

She opened her eyes and saw him looking at her.  "Fox..." she breathed.  
Through the haze of his passion, he pressed a finger to her lips, shook his 
head insistently.  She stopped moving for a moment, took his finger away 
and kissed it, then bent down over him.  If she was going to do this, going 
to be with him, the healing had to start.  Now.  "Fox, listen to me.  I want you 
to hear your name spoken with love, with desire," she whispered, her face 
hovering above his.  "I love you, Fox.  Do you hear me?  I want you, Fox.  
I want you and love you more than any other man, ever.  I love feeling you 
inside of me, Fox.	Do you know that?  Fox, I want to be with you always."

"Dana.  My sweet, sweet..." he gasped.  He gripped her hand tightly and 
cracked a grin.  "Okay, you can call me whatever you want, just don't stop...
please don't stop."  She pressed a gentle kiss to his lips and resumed her 
movements, slowly at first, then building momentum.  He ran his hands all 
over her, through her hair, down her shoulders, over her breasts, before 
settling at her hips, gripping them tightly, jerking up into her with increasing 
velocity, faster, faster, faster, until he cried out, emptying himself into her.  
With a final groan she collapsed on top of him, dotting his chest with kisses, 
then disengaged and rolled over beside him.  Once he had collected himself, 
he turned to her, stroking her hair back from her sweaty brow tenderly.  
"Did you..." he whispered.

She shook her head fractionally, but smiled.  "It's okay.  It doesn't matter."

"Oh, yes, it does..."  His eyes glinted at her, then he took one rosy nipple 
into his mouth and sucked on it lazily, circling it with his tongue, nibbling at it 
with his teeth.  She wound her fingers in his hair and pressed him closer to 
her, sighing happily.  He lingered there a while longer, then lifted his head, 
smiling at her small sound of protest.  His mouth meandered down her chest 
to her abdomen, biting at her hips, tracing her navel with his tongue.  He 
placed gentle kisses at the hairline of her auburn mound, then on her inner 
thighs.  Finally, finally, he began kissing her between her legs, stroking the 
hidden folds with his tongue, sliding it in and out of her until she was squirming 
with pleasure.  He flickered his tongue over the swollen nub of her pleasure 
as his hands reached up to knead her breasts, and he was rewarded with a 
gasp of delight.  She squeezed his head with her thighs and entwined her 
hands in his hair, pushing him closer, as he continued to probe and tease, 
reveling in the musky taste of her.

"Oh God that feels so good," she panted, gripping him tighter.  "Oh God 
you're incredible, Fox, you're so good, I love you..."  Her head thrashed on
 the pillow and she bit her lip as she tried to deal with the unbelievable pleasure 
running through her.  She opened her eyes to watch him making love to her 
with his mouth, and became even more aroused at the sight of him there, 
eating her with a seemingly insatiable hunger.  Her hips rose and fell rhythmically 
as she felt the wave begin to crest inside of her.  She pulled on his hair and 
erupted into incoherent cries as she finally contracted against him, shaking 
violently as he sucked even harder to continue her pleasure for as long as 
possible.  When she was finished convulsing, he placed one final gentle kiss 
there, then lifted himself up and kissed her on the mouth.  She could taste 
herself on his lips.

"So maybe it does matter, after, all, hmm?" he said teasingly.

She laughed weakly.  "God, I'm still twitching," she said, then laughed again 
out of sheer joy.

He smiled at her.  "Yeah, well, you almost pulled all the hair out of my head 
at the end there."

They just held each other for a while in contented silence, until they both 
felt sleep threatening to overtake them.  Dana turned on her side so that 
her back was to him.  "Spoon me?"

He grinned and embraced her from behind, lining his legs up with hers.  
Of course, her feet were somewhere around his knees, but neither of them 
minded in the least.  He buried his face in her neck and breathed deeply.

"You're mine forever," she heard him whisper, before drifting off into sleep.  
"I'll never let them take you from me.  Never.  Never again..."

****

Mulder woke with a start, like he usually did.  He was immediately 
conscious of the fact that a woman was snuggled up against his chest, 
and for a moment he couldn't remember who it was.  Then he relaxed 
as the memory came rushing back to him.  Scully.  Dana.  The only one 
who mattered.  He raised himself up on his elbow so he could get a better l
ook at her.  She was so peaceful, her face unlined in sleep, like that of an a
ngel.  His angel.  He tenderly smoothed her hair, which glinted in the sunlight 
pouring into the room.  Her eyes fluttered open.  She seemed confused for 
a moment, then she looked up and saw him.  A brilliant smile spread across 
her face.  "Good morning," he said softly.

"Good morning."  She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him 
languorously.  He slipped one hand under the sheet and caressed her 
bare stomach, finding it hard to believe that she was actually here with 
him like this.  They came up for air, and he placed a gentle kiss on her 
forehead.  "Still love me?"  He was afraid that she might have changed 
her mind after sleeping on it.

She ran her finger down his nose to his lips, and he kissed the tip gently. 
"More than ever.  What about you?"

"Dana, this is the happiest I've been since...since...well, you know."

She nodded and brushed a stray hair out of his eyes.  "No nightmares 
last night?"

"I was too tired for nightmares," he growled.  "You wore me out, woman!"

"Well, if that's what it takes to keep your nightmares away, we'll just have 
to do it every night," she told him, her eyes sparkling.

"And is that your informed medical opinion, doctor?" he asked playfully.

"Oh, absolutely."  She kissed him again, purposefully this time, her hand 
traveling below his waist until he gasped.

He smiled as an idea formed.  "Scully, what's your position on water 
sports?"

She stopped what she was doing and looked at him quizzically.  "What are 
you talking about?"

"I was just thinking," he said, punctuating each word with a kiss on her neck, 
"that we could move this little party to the shower and get two things done at 
once."

"I knew that genius I.Q. would *really* come in handy someday," she teased.  
"You go start.  I'll be there in a minute."

****

Mulder held his hand under the running faucet in the tub, testing the water 
temperature and humming a nameless tune.  He turned on the shower and 
was about to step inside when a cold draft of air alerted him to Scully's arrival 
in the bathroom.  He laughed when he saw her.  She had appropriated his 
white terrycloth robe, and of course, it was positively huge on her.  It trailed 
on the floor behind her like the train on a wedding dress, and the sleeves 
gave no evidence that she even had hands.  She flopped her arms at him 
gleefully, an adorable smile lighting up her face.  "A perfect fit," he quipped. 
"You should keep it, really."

"Maybe I will," she said, mock-threateningly.  "I like it.  It smells like you.  
And not like how you smelled when you came back from New Mexico, if you know 
what I'm saying."

"Oh, Scully, you always say the sweetest things," he sneered.  "Come on, 
the water's perfect."  He stepped into the shower and smiled enticingly.  At 
least, he hoped it was enticing.

She let the robe drop to the floor, and he swallowed hard.  She was so beautiful.  
And she loved him.  She had so.  He still found it difficult to believe.  As soon 
as she was in the shower he took her face in his hands and kissed her, pressing 
his body up against hers, thrilling at the feel of skin on skin.

"Mulder," she said when their lips parted, "we're supposed to be getting clean, 
remember?"  She pulled away from him and stood under the stream of water, 
running her hands through her hair, pretending to ignore him.  He knew she 
was trying to get a rise out of him, and boy was it working.  Literally.

"Oh, we'll get clean," he assured her, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, "but 
first..."  He pushed her against the cold tile, kissing her neck and cupping 
her breasts possessively.  She let out a low moan and ran her hands up and 
down his chest, his hips, his thighs.

Grasping her hips, he lifted her up and impaled her on his hard cock, 
entering her easily.  With forceful strokes he began pumping into her, 
slamming her against the wall of the shower with each thrust, as she 
braced her feet on his calves and clung to him.  He took her arms and 
raised them above her head, holding them there with one strong hand, 
the other gripping her buttocks firmly.  Their faces were mere inches apart, 
and Mulder looked deeply into her blue eyes.  "Do you like that?" he 
whispered.  "Does that feel good?"  She nodded, panting.  "Tell me," he 
demanded.

"So good...oh God, don't stop," she moaned.  "I can't...I can't...oh..." She 
trailed off as she climaxed around him, letting out soft, ecstatic cries.

He stopped thrusting until she was finished, then smiled at her, feeling a 
bit crazed.  "Sorry, babe, but I'm not done with you yet," he bit out.

She licked her lips and nodded at him.  He released her arms and she 
responded by reaching down to clutch his behind, urging him on.  He resumed 
his movements, biting at her neck hungrily, dimly wondering what would 
happen if she showed up at work with hickies.  His hand traveled down to 
stroke her above the hot spot where they were joined.
"Oh, you're cruel, Mulder," she groaned, her tongue flickering in his ear.

"Just doing research, Scully.  Trying to find out if you're multiorgasmic."  He 
was so close to coming, so close, but he was determined to hold out until 
she arrived a second time.  It was not easy.

Luckily, he didn't have too long to wait.  She dug her nails into the soft flesh 
of his buttocks and screamed his first name as she convulsed around him.  
He drove into her frantically, beyond control now, and groaned deeply as he 
finally gushed into her.  He buried his face between her breasts and giggled 
like a little kid.  "This is like a dream, Scully.  I never thought...I mean, I've 
wanted you so badly for so long, and now...it's just unreal, somehow."

"I know what you mean," she told him.  "But it's real, Mulder.  What just 
happened?  Just now, against this wall?  Boy, was that real."

Chuckling, he gently withdrew from her and set her on her feet.  "Yeah, I 
guess you can't get much more real than that."  He hefted a shampoo bottle.  
"Head and Shoulders okay?"

She rolled her eyes.  "I really did *not* need to know that you have a 
dandruff problem."

He squeezed a sizable glob into the palm of his hand.  "Well, we already 
know each other too well to have any of that sense of mystery couples 
are supposed to maintain."

"Yeah, well."  She grew serious suddenly.  "Just remember that I do know 
you better than anyone.  And I love you *because* of who you are, not in 
spite of it."

"See, that's the part I still can't believe isn't just some incredible dream," he 
whispered.  "Pinch me.

"Oww!  I'll get you for that, Scully..."

****

When they were done showering and getting dressed -- Scully re-donning her 
dress from the night before, minus the stockings -- Mulder made breakfast.  That 
is, he made instant coffee and burnt toast, anyway.

"Sorry.  When I ordered from the caterer, I wasn't optimistic enough to plan 
breakfast, too," he grumbled.

"It's okay."  Dana sipped her coffee, inhaling the caffeine fumes appreciatively.  
"Can you take me home, so I can change?"  He nodded, intent on spreading a 
thick slab of butter on his charcoaled toast.  "What do you want to do today?"

He looked up at her.  "Um, I hadn't really thought about it.  Spend time with 
you."

"Well, it's a beautiful day out, it looks like."  She perched on his lap and he 
wrapped his arms around her.  "Why don't we go somewhere?  You know 
what I want to do?  It's silly, but..."  She averted her eyes and studied her 
coffee.  "I want to walk down the street holding your hand.  Isn't that childish?  
I just...it would be so nice to be part of a couple.  Especially when the other 
half is a gorgeous man like yourself."  She looked back at him, grinning 
shyly, and was taken aback at what she saw there.  A serious face drained 
of all color.  "What is it?"

"I..."  He swallowed audibly.  "I won't let them take you from me again, 
Dana."

Her heart leapt into her throat.  She had a sinking feeling she knew exactly 
where this was headed.  "They won't," she said cautiously.

He smoothed her hair distractedly, focused on his thoughts.  "If they find out 
about us, they'll take you from me.  You'll be in so much more danger than 
you already are.  I can't...I won't allow that to happen."

"Well, of course we'll have to be very careful at work," she said reasonably. 
"You know relationships between partners are practically prohibited.  They'd
reassign us for sure."

"But...but they're everywhere, Scully.  They watch me pretty closely."

Anger rose in her like water from a geyser.  God, she should have seen this 
coming.  She got up off his lap and regarded him incredulously.  "Are you 
saying we can't go to the fucking *mall* together?  Is that what you're saying?  
That we can't go to the movies or out to dinner or for a walk, as a couple, 
because you're so goddamn paranoid?"  She was screaming now, but couldn't 
care less.  She knew this would be trouble, knew it, but she had to be stupid 
and listen to her heart instead of her brain, good going, Dana...

He bit his lip, unable to meet her eyes.  "Don't you see...they hurt everyone 
I love...I can't let anything happen to you again."

A small part of her was touched by his protectiveness, but the rest of her 
wanted to kill him.  "I am not Samantha," she said icily.  "I can take care of 
myself.  You are not *responsible* for my well-being."

His head jerked up.  "Dana..."

"No.  Fuck you, Mulder.  Fuck you.  I'll take a cab home."  She grabbed her 
bag and shoes and was out the door before he could stop her.  Thankfully, 
he didn't follow.  She walked a few blocks before she was composed enough 
to take her cellular phone from her purse and call a car service.  She managed 
to fight back tears until she was in the comfort of her own apartment, whereupon 
she flung herself on the couch and sobbed bitterly, cursing herself for being 
so stupid, cursing him for being so messed up in the head.  Why couldn't she 
have fallen in love with someone *boring*?

****

The doorbell rang two hours later.

"Go away, Mulder," she yelled from the couch.  She was curled up in a ball, 
not even having bothered to change out of her dress.

"Scully, open the door.  Please," came his muffled voice.

"Go away," she repeated.  She heard his key turn in the lock, and she 
couldn't bring herself to get up and stop him.  He was stronger than she was, 
anyway; he would have won in the end.

She glared at him as he entered the apartment, wearing grungy sweatpants 
and a t-shirt.  She took small comfort in the fact that he looked like hell.  He 
closed the door quietly and walked toward her, stopping a few feet away.  His 
jaw worked, but whether he was trying to speak or fighting back tears, she 
couldn't tell.

"Dana, I want to say...I'm sorry.  I'm sorry for hurting you, making you upset."

"But not for thinking what you do about all this," she retorted.

"Not...not exactly."  He held up his hand to stop her from snapping at him again. 
 "Let me finish.  This is so hard...I know you're not Samantha, that you can take 
care of yourself better than she could have...but they took you once, and they 
*could* do it again, if they wanted...and if they knew we were...lovers, they'd 
figure you'd be an even better way to get to me...even better than you were 
before..."

"Mulder --"

"Scully, please.  I...I haven't changed my mind, really, since this morning, but...
but I realize it's not fair to force you to do things my way.  I mean, if you want 
to go to the movies or for a walk or whatever, I should be able to take you.  I 
*want* to take you, and hold you close, and let the whole world know you're 
mine...that this beautiful, intelligent, brave woman loves me...and I love her 
too.  God, Scully, I love you so much."  He blinked back tears, his hands 
clenched at his sides.

"Mulder, I know.  And I understand what you're saying, to an extent," she 
said softly.  "But we can't let *them* control our lives, or we've let them win. 
 You're right, it's not fair, to either of us.  But I *refuse* to live my life in 
constant fear.  If I did, life wouldn't be worth living."

He rubbed his eyes shamefacedly.  "I'm scared,"  he whispered.

Her heart melted as she watched him standing there forlornly, looking for all 
the world like a lost little boy.  She went to him, embraced him gently, burying 
her face in his chest.  "I know.  I am too."

They held each other for a long time, until he placed a kiss on the top of her 
head and pulled back slightly.  "So, um, the point I was getting to...what I 
wanted to ask you is...do you want to maybe catch a movie?"

She smiled up at him.  "That depends.  Can we sit in the back row and neck 
through the whole thing?"

He caressed her cheek fondly.  "Sounds like a plan."



The End