Title: Three Months
Author: Rachel Anton
Rating: NC-17 for adult subject matter, language and sex
Category: S, R, V
Keywords: Mulder-angst, MSR, M/O
Summary: A story about self-doubt and desperation
Spoilers: Slight Redux 2
Disclaimer: Don't own em, don't sue me! Thanks.
E-Mail: Did I mention I'd love feedback!!! My e-mail is RaValliano@aol.com 
Author's note: I'd like to give a special thanks to Karen and Amy who gave me
the courage to post this strange little story. You ladies are the best!


      "Damn traffic!" Mulder pounded his fists on the steering wheel in
frustration. It seemed as if he'd been on the same stretch of road for hours
now. He wondered when, if ever this day of misery would finally end.
      *Three months* The thought popped, unwelcome, into his head again.
*It's been three goddamn months*. Snow was beginning to fall only making the
traffic problem worse. The winter was in full gear. It was February already.
Almost Scully's birthday again. Three months had passed. Three months since
Scully's cancer had miraculously and mysteriously gone into remission. And
four months since Fox Mulder had made a promise to himself. A promise he'd
been sure he would have the guts to keep.
      He had come so close today. So close his heart clenched when he thought
of it now. They had been bickering, debating the scientific valididty of his
latest pet project, and she'd leaned against the file cabinet. She'd shaken
her head and looked at him in utter disbelief. She looked so strong, so
vibrant, so brilliant, so Scully. Thinking about it now turned him on all
over again. He'd experienced a moment of utter clarity. She was there. She
was back. His rock, his Scully, completely herself again. He had seen her
like a vision in that moment. A vision of perfection, everything he had ever
wanted and needed in one beautiful package with a bright red bow on top.
      *HONK* Mulder was jerked back into the present by the blaring sounds
coming from behind him. He looked ahead and realized he was about 100 feet
behind the line of traffic. He accelerated a moment only to end up at a dead
stop again. "Happy now asshole?" he growled at the businessman in the car to
his rear. "Fucking people!"
      6 o'clock and it was dark already. Mulder hated the winter. He hated
the cold, hated the constant darkness, hated driving home from work in the
snow. He'd left early today to avoid the incoming blizzard but it hadn't been
soon enough. Scully had left hours before him. She was probably safe at home
bundled in her comforter drinking hot chocolate or something. Mulder smiled
at his little image and wished he were there to share her warmth. He'd come
so close today.
      He'd stopped arguing with her and just stared, overcome by the feelings
gripping him. She'd raised a quizzical eyebrow and asked him what he was
gaping at. The words were there. He'd felt them building in his stomach,
struggling their way up his body, pushing through the layers of self-hatred,
guilt, fear. They'd pushed and prodded and almost made it through the final
layer. Something had stopped them though. Something in him that wouldn't let
go. There was a part of him that refused to take Dana Scully down from the
pedestal he'd so carefully placed her on years ago. To bring her down to his
level, to let her be a person who could love him, who he could touch the way
he wanted too would ruin her. She would be equal to him thus utterly
worthless. Mulder couldn't bear to do that to her. He refused to tarnish her,
endanger her with his love. With words that he'd promised himself he'd say if
she ever got better. Words which he was becoming certain would never work
their way out of his mouth.
      Simple words really. So he'd told himself when he'd made the promise.
Probably nothing she doesn't already know, he'd reasoned. He knew his actions
reflected his feelings. There was nothing ambiguous in the way he'd fought
for her life with every fiber of his being. Nothing to be misconstrued in the
way he'd looked at her, the way he'd held her when they thought the end was
near. No mystery in the utter joy on his face and endless embrace they'd
shared when she told him her disease had gone into remission. She had to
know. So why was it so hard to say the words?
     Because then, he knew, he'd have to deal with the probability of her
saying them back to him. He'd have to handle a situation in which she might
actually be deluded enough to want him as much as he wanted her. She might
actually think he deserved her and tempt him into her arms. God knew it
wouldn't take much. And then he'd have to explain to her why he could never
make her happy. How making love to him could only bring her excessive pain
and suffering in the long run. How he ultimately destroyed everything he
loved, ruined everyone that loved him back, and then he'd have to lose her.
Not just as a potential lover but also as his partner, his friend, his only
real family, his entire life.
     After he'd chickened out the snow had started to fall. Scully had
regarded him peculiarly and shelved the case until tomorrow. Then she'd left.
He hadn't even been able to walk her out because he'd been sporting an
embarrassingly noticeable hard-on. He'd hidden under the desk until she was
gone. Amazing how a simple look from her reduced him to a pathetically horny
adolescent. It left him in awe of her and utter disgust of himself. His
perverted desires were one thing when dealt with in the privacy of his own
home but subjecting Scully to them, the though made him sick to his stomach.
Unfortunately since the whole surveillace thing had happened in his apartment
Mulder felt a little weird about letting off steam there. Especially since
most of his sessions ended with him crying his partner's name. He never knew
who might be watching. He'd been strangely paranoid about it for awhile and
hadn't masturbated in quite a long time. The result was even more frustration
than usual and the damn thing kept popping up at inopportune moments.
     *BEEP* Like now for instance. Mulder grumbled angrily and exited the
highway. He knew a shortcut to his apartment. It was through a bad
neighborhood but it made little difference to him. The prospect of getting
carjacked was more appealing at the moment than sitting in the gridlock any
longer. He needed to get home and soon. Fuck whoever might be watching.
Mulder was ready to jerk-off in the lobby of the J. Edgar Hoover building. He
just hoped his fantasies weren't too sick. Sometimes he was embarassed to
look Scully in the face in the morning after the way he thought about her at
night.

XXX

     Chrystal was cold. And angry. Her skirt was too short for the
temperature and her vinyl boots weren't doing much to protect her feet. It
was a horrendous night and as she paced the sidewalk and watched the hours
pass by she wondered what the hell she was doing out here. The streets were
deserted. She was never going to get any business on a night like this. But
dammit she needed the money. If someone didn't come along soon, she didn't
know what she'd do.
      She pulled her light cotton jacket tighter around her small frame. At
5'2 and 110 pounds she didn't have much natural insulation from the cold.
*Damn that kevin* she thought, not for the first time tonight. He'd promised
her a full lineup for the night. No street work he'd said. I've got it all
set up he'd told her. Then the new girl had come along and stolen Chrystal's
easy night. Now little miss perfect was being chauffered from hotel to hotel
while Chrystal froze her ass off and cursed the day she'd come to DC.
      She checked her reflection absently in the liquor store window. At
Kevin's suggestion she'd recently died her bob a vibrant shade of red. It
matched her pale complexion well and was more of an attention getter than her
natural dishwater blonde shade. She brushed it behind her ears and sighed. It
didn't much matter how she looked tonight. Noone was around to notice.
      She turned from the window in time to see a black car race past. Tinted
windows. She couldn't see inside. It was going too fast for this weather.
Chrystal wondered if the driver had a deathwish or was just stupid. She
jumped when she heard screeching tires. The car had stopped short about a
half-mile past her and soon began heading backwards in her direction.
Chrystal was a little frightened but more than that she was hopeful. Could be
a potential customer.
      The car pulled up next to her and stopped. The passenger side window
rolled down and a man's voice called to her "Need a ride?" She walked a
little closer to the car and peered inside. Hello. He was actually cute!
Maybe this night wouldn't be such a disaster after all.
      "It'll cost you." She said in what she hoped was a coy, suggestive
tone. He stared at her with an intensity Chrystal had never experienced
before. He looked like a lunatic. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea.
      "I realize that. Get in." His voice was firm but not really forceful.
Chrystal sensed that he woudn't hurt her. He was probably nuts but not
dangerous. She had learned because of her profession to make snap judgments
of people. How safe they were, if they would turn violent on her. She had to
know for her own safety and she considered herself a pretty good judge of
character. She got in the car.
      The man rolled up her window and started driving. She took a good look
at him and realized just how attractive he actually was. he had a good body
and a beautiful face. Incredible lips, soulful eyes. He was clean and well
dressed. He smelled good. His car was nice and probably cost an arm and a
leg. Chrystal couldn't for the life of her figure out why he would require
her services. 
      Maybe it was his personality. He was silent as they drove through her
neighborhood and he kept steeling looks at her, shaking his head and sighing.
He was making her uncomfortable. Maybe he did that to all women and that was
why he needed her.
      After about 5 minutes of odd looks and complete silence Chrystal
finally blurted out "What are you gaping at?" This had a completely
unexpected effect on the man. He started laughing. It was a strange laugh.
Not one of mirth but of disbelief and...something else, maybe bitterness.
      "Unbe-fucking-lievable. How old are you?" Chrystal tensed at the
question. The last person to ask her that had turned out to be an undercover
cop. He'd said he wanted to help her. The 2 days she'd spent in jail hadn't
been of much assistance to her. Maybe that was this guy's story. Another
frigging undercover cop. That wasn't her general impression though.
      "How old do you want me to be?" she asked looking at him with a
slightly arched eyebrow.
      "Christ." He shook his head and looked back at the road. "Thirty-five."
      "Huh?" Chrystal hadn't expected an answer to that question. She'd asked
it to avoid answering his. 
      "You're thirty-five. Your birthday's next week." Whoa. This was getting
really weird. Even for Chrystal who'd certainly dealt with her share of
weirdos.
      "Um OK. Sure it is mister." She wasn't gonna be the one to tell him
she'd just turned 18 last month. Maybe he needed to feel like he was dealing
with someone his own age. Maybe knowing how young she was would make him feel
like a dirty old man. Who knew his reaons. And who cared really as long as he
paid her.
      "So where are we goin'?" she asked.
      "My apartment."
      "No I don't do that. it's gotta be a hotel." Chrystal wasn't an idiot.
Going to the guy's apartment was just asking for trouble. The man nodded
seeming to understand immediately.
      "Safer for you that way I guess." She sighed, relieved. "So I guess you
should be telling me where we're going then."
      "Turn left at the next light and go down about three blocks. There's a
place I go to a lot." The man did as she told him and soon they were at the
Goodnight Motel. He told her to wait in the car while he got a room.
      Alone in his car Chrystal looked curiously at her surroundings. Cell
phone in the glove box, fast food wrappers on the floor beneath her feet, a
gym bag in the backseat. Seemed normal enough. Probably just a bored
businessman or something. Probably had a wife and kids waiting at home for
him. That didn't seem right either though. What was his story? For some
reason Chrystal was starting to really want to know.
     He came back to the car with a set of keys. "I got it for the whole
night. I hope that's OK." Nope definately not married.
     "That'll cost you extra." He shrugged seeming not to care. He didn't
seem to care about money at all. He hadn't asked about her rates even once.
That was usually the first question.
     They went to the room and the man sat down in the only chair available.
He crossed his hands over his chest and stared openly at Chrystal who was
standing near the bed waiting for him to join her.
     "So um...what do you want me to do?" He seemed to be waiting for
something. Maybe for her to start.
     "Don't say anything else. You voice is wrong. And take off those
ridiculous clothes." Her voice? Chrystal had never had any complaints about
it before but whatever. She didn't have to talk. Take off the clothes. At
least that part made sense. She began to unbutton her blouse in a slow
seductive striptease.
     "Don't bother with that. Just get them off. Leave on your underwear
though. If you've got any that is."
     Chrystal did as asked removing blouse, jacket and skirt. She was left
standing in a matching black bra and panties, garter stockings and her
thighhigh vinyl boots. The man shook his head still not pleased. 
     "No stockings. And definately not those boots. Jesus Christ." Strange.
The boots were usually a big favorite. Lots of guys wanted her to keep them
on while they did it. She shrugged and pulled off boots and stockings. He
looked vaguely satisfied but still made no move for her.
     "What now?" she asked.
     "What's your name?"
     "What's yours?"
     "Mine doesn't matter. What's yours?"
     "Chrystal." The man scowled and shook his head. 
     "Not anymore. Tonight it's Scully. Now keep your mouth shut and get over
here."
     She moved slowly towards him wondering who or what Scully was. She stood
in front of him and he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and buried
his head in her stomach. She was startled by the affectionate gesture and
returned it by lightly stroking his hair. He began placing featherlight
kisses across her middle and she found herself suprisingly turned on a
little. He pulled her closer to him and whispered to her "Sit on my lap". 
    She did and he cradled her small body in his arms. He kissed her neck and
stroked her thighs. She moved her bottom against him and felt the hardness of
his body pressing into her. His lips trailed up her ears sucking and biting,
growing more insistant. He made a move to kiss her lips but she held up her
hand and shook her head. The man nodded. "Right I've seen Pretty Woman."
Chrystal hadn't and wonderd what the hell he was talking about.
    He stood, lifting her with him and carried her to tthe bed. He placed her
down and lay beside her. "Take off my clothes." She straddled him and pulled
off his jacket tossing it to the floor. Looking down at him she noticed
something she'd missed. A holster...a gun! Startled and frightened she jumped
off him.
    "What?" he asked confused. Then he looked down and realized. He removed
the holster and gun and placed them on the bedside table. "Relax, I'm an FBI
agent." That did not make Chrystal feel even the slightest bit better. An FBI
agent??? What the hell had she gotten herself into? Was this some kind of
sting operation or something? Jesus Christ!
     "Calm down. I'm not going to arrest you. I'd have to arrest myself too
and I don't feel like spending the night in jail." She searched his face for
a sign that he was lying. He seemed sincere. Besides, if he was going to
arrest her it probably would have happened already. She climbed back on him
and began unbuttoning his shirt. She pulled it from his body and sucked
lightly on one of his nipples. He moaned and she increased the pressure. Her
hands drifted down and unbuckled his belt. He kicked off his shoes and socks
and she pulled his pants off. He lay under her in gray boxers, his erection
pressing hotly against her panty covered center and she realized she was
indeed very aroused. How had that happened?
     He flipped her onto her back and lay on top of her, grinding his hips
into her. she bit back a moan knowing he didn't want to hear her voice. He
kissed and licked his way down her neck and chest, stopping to remove her bra
and caress her breasts with his tongue. He looped his fingers under her
panties and pulled them off. She wondered how long it would be now before he
was inside her. Probably a matter of seconds. She reached for the jacket next
to her and pulled a condom out of the pocket. She handed it to him and he put
it next to the bed. "Later." he said. Later? Did later mean never? If he
refused to wear one she was going to have to stop his.
    Then she felt his mouth on her and realized what he was talking about. He
was going to go down on her first. "You don't need to do that." she told him
in as quiet a voice as possible. She was starting to get worried. She didn't
want to come. Not with a customer. 
    He lifted his head from her. "I told you not to say anything. And I do
need to. It's an important part of it." His tongue darted out and stroked her
clit and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. He was good at it.
Dammit. She tried to think of something else. Anything to keep from feeling
what he was doing to her. She thought of the fat slob she'd been with the
night before. She thought of seeing her best friend bleeding to death on the
street last year. She thought of her mother hitting her with a frying pan.
She thought of the most unpleasant things her mind could conjure up and
managed to avoid a real orgasm. After an acceptable amount of time she faked
one, bucking against him and trembling convincingly.
    He positioned himself over her and reached for the condom. "I know that
was fake but thanks for humoring me." he told her as he slipped the rubber
over what Chrystal realized was an enormous cock. She tried not to stare at
it but it was truly one of the biggest she'd ever seen. She wondered again
why in the world this guy was having trouble getting laid.
     He slipped inside her with a sigh and rested his head against her
shoulder. He thrust into her slowly and kissed her neck tenderly. She felt
something wet trail down her ear and realized with alarm, this man was
crying. She didn't know what to do about it. She'd never been in a situation
like this before.
     "I love you Scully" he whispered reverently in her ear. This was weird.
This was too weird. It was starting to give Chrystal the creeps. She was
beginning to think she'd have been better off with some sleazy lout who
wanted her to spank him and put him in diapers that with this guy. But she
was getting paid. That was the botom line. And that's what she tried to focus
on as he increased his pace and began moaning against her neck.
     "I love you so much." Oh God. Was she supposed to tell her she loved him
too? Or that Scully loved him? This was not something she was prepared for.
He was still crying and moaning and slamming into her harder and harder.
Maybe he needed comfort. She ran her hands gently over his back and through
his hair trying to calm him down. He lifted his head and tried to kiss her
again. She turned her face away and he cried even harder. She felt bad. She
wanted to kiss him. Which was all the more reason not to. This strange sad
man was breaking her heart. A heart she wasn't supposed to have.
    "God Scully I need you. I'd die without you." No one had ever said words
like that to Chrystal before. Of course he wasn't really saying them to her.
He was saying them to Scully, whoever and wherever he or she was. 
    He raised up to his knees and lifted her backside with him. His thrusts
were becoming almost painful but still felt good to Chrystal. She looked up
into his tear streaked face twisted into a grimace of physical pleasure and
emotional pain and she wanted to cry herself. She could tell he was close but
was wating for her. Fear gripped her as she felt another orgasm building. She
decided to end it before it went to far.
     She tightened her vaginal muscles around him and cried out. He thrust
into her 3 quick times calling out despereatly to his "ScullyScullyScully"
and collapsed on top of her.
      After a few moments he he moved off her and rolled onto his back.
Chrystal was now starting to really worry. He'd gotten the room for the whole
night. How many more times would he want to do that? She didn't think she
could deal with even once more.
    She sat up and turned to him. "Look I know I said I'd stay the whole
night but I just remembered I have another appointment I kinda have to get
to." she stammered looking for an excuse to get the hell out of there.
     He nodded blankly. "I kinda figured you'd say that."
     She stood and started to gather her clothing and get dressed feeling
sadder and more lonely than she'd felt in a long time. The man just lay in
bed staring at the ceiling. She almost felt guilty having to bring it up but
there was still an important matter to be dealt with. "Um mister..about my
um..."
      "Get my wallet out of my jacket pocket. Take all the cash that's there
OK."
      Chrystal retrieved the wallet and eyed the wad of money it held. "Are
you sure? This is much more than..."
     "Just take it. Don't worry about it." She wasn't about to argue. With
this stash she could actually call a cab and go home tonight. She wouldn't
have to work tomorrow either. Probably not even the day after that. She
stuffed the cash into her pocket and was about to give him his wallet when
she noticed something, A photograph. It was the only one in the group of
clear plastic inserts. It was a woman. A woman with red hair and blue eyes. A
woman that looked, Chrystal realized, almost exactly like her. Or at least
what she would probably look like in about 10 years if she kept dying her
hair. Except that this woman had a seriousness about her. A depth and
intelligence Chrystal could never imagine herself possesing. She held the
picture up. "My God this is her isn't it?"
     The man nodded once and looked away sadly. She couldn't help but think
*I wish it was me.* She wondered if this woman had any idea how the man
before her felt. What had happened between them that caused him to go to
Chrystal instead of her? Had she hurt him? Had he hurt her? Was she dead? She
decided to take a risk and give him what instinct told her was some much
needed advice. "You should tell her. She probably wouldn't make you pay."
     He winced and she immediately regretted her words. "What are you the
hooker-shrink? Just get lost OK?" Chrystal shrugged. What did she care if
this guy was ever happy. She'd gotten her money right? Still as she wandered
out into the biting cold and falling snow she couldn't help but feel sorry
for the man she was leaving behind.

XXX

     Mulder was alone. The girl had finally left and he was alone in a sleazy
motel in a sleazy neighborhood, all his cash gone. How had he ended up here?
How had he managed to turn a pretty bad day into one of the worst of his
entire life? What had he been thinking? Had he honestly though sleeping with
that girl, that child, that prostitute would make him feel better? Had he
expected to get satisfaction from acting out his fantasies on a little girl?
Jesus fucking Christ was he fucked up. What the hell was wrong with him.
    The worst thing was that she'd felt sorry for him. He'd read the pity in
her eyes. That poor lost pathetic girl, so obviously in need of help herself
had pitied him. She'd even tried to give him advice. Bill Scully's words came
back to him. Sorry son of a bitch. If he only knew.
     A ringing sound from his jacket pocket interrupted his musings. He
pulled his cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open. "Mulder."
     "Mulder, it's me." Shit. Fuck.
     "Hey Scully. What's up?"
     "Mulder I just tried to call your apartment and there was no answer.
You're not still driving home are you?" She sounded worried about him. She
was worried. Christ.
     "No I'm home Scully. I um.. I unplugged the phone. I wanted to get some
sleep."
      "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"
      "No, no. I don't mind hearing from you Scully. I just didn't want to
deal with anyone else."
       "OK well, I'll let you go then. I'll see you tomorrow. If we're not
all snowed in by then that is." No Scully. Don't go. Don't leave me here.
Please.
       "Um yeah. See you tomorrow." *Click* she was gone. He was alone again.
Alone with the memory of what he'd done permanantly etched in his brain. The
sins he'd committed gainst Scully's trust, her honor. The way he'd defiled
her, violated her. The way he'd used that poor young girl. He knew now that
there was no way he could keep his promise. No way he could expose her to his
sickness. Certainly no way he could ever dream of being worthy of her. Filled
with a nauseating amount of self-loathing he dragged himself to the bathroom
and emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. 
     Three months and counting.


So, what did you think? Like it? Hate it? Please let me know! It's my first.
RaValliano@aol.com      

Title: Three Months II-Reverance and
Reconstruction

Author: Rachel Anton

Rating: NC-17

Category: S,R

Keywords: MSR, Angst

Summary: Mulder faces the consequences of
his actions and they are not what he expects 

E-Mail: Please tell me what you think. My
e-mail is BVallianos@aol.com

Disclaimer: Scully doesn't belong to me. But
this Mulder is MINE! Well, actually they
both belong to Chris Carter. Don't sue me
Chris. I'm begging ya.
	
   Author's note: This is a sequel to Three
	Months. If you haven't read it this might
	not make much sense. It's at Gossamer. 
   Thanks to everyone who sent me feedback 
   about Three Months. Special thanks to the 
   shipper bimbos over at Gertie's. You know 
   who you are!
	


	Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. He'd
lied to her. Of that much she was now certain.
She'd begun to suspect as much as soon as she'd
hung up the phone. He'd told her he had
unplugged the phone. If this were true she
wouldn't have gotten the answering machine. His
machine was part of his phone. If the phone was
unplugged the answering machine was unplugged.
She would have let it go, might not have even
thought about it, if it hadn't been for his
tone. He'd been nervous and strange. He'd
sounded miserable and...something else. Guilty
almost. Then the topper. She'd tried to call
him back and had gotten no answer on his cell
phone. He'd obviously turned off the ringer
immediately following her call. Something was
up. Something was wrong.
	The apartment was quiet as a tomb. It looked
as if he hadn't been here since this morning.
His dirty morning jogging sweats were bunched
in a ball on the couch. A mug half full of cold
coffee sat on the kitchen table. A newspaper
lay next to it, open to the sports page. 
	She walked to the answering machine just to
make sure she wasn't losing her mind. She
pressed play. Sure enough her voice filled the
empty space. 
	"Mulder it's me. Are you there? I hope you
aren't still on the road. It's getting really
bad out there. Call me when you get in OK." No
she hadn't been hallucinating. It was real and
he had lied. Why? For the life of her she
couldn't remember him ever having lied to her.
He'd been evasive, he'd run off without telling
her where he was going but he'd never out and
out lied to her. Even about something so small.
He just didn't believe in it. It was one of the
things she loved about him.
	She hadn't been wrong about the roads. Her
drive to his apartment had been treacherous and
ill-advised. But once she'd spoken to him she
couldn't shake the feeling that he was in
trouble. That he needed her but, for some
reason, couldn't tell her that. 
	*So what else is new?* she though as she
sank down on the couch. She'd been trying. Lord
how she had been trying to get through that
thick skull of his. She'd thought, really
assumed, that after her cancer had gone into
remission that they were going to finally deal
with the feelings between them. It didn't
really have to be that difficult anymore. Not
like before. The feelings were there. They both
knew it. If she'd had any doubts they were
erased during her time in the hospital. The way
they'd been with each other...they were lovers,
if not of the flesh, certainly of the soul. The
words weren't necessary. They were always
there, unspoken but acknowledged in both their
hearts. All that was left was the fun part. The
easy part.
	Well, it was supposed to be easy anyway.
Getting Mulder into her bed was proving to be
more difficult than deflowering a chastity belt
wearing medieval virgin. Every time she made
the slightest serious advance or even
suggestion of an advance he changed the
subject, made a joke, or fled the scene
entirely. She knew his fear was holding him
back, as it had been from so many things for so
many years. She knew it and understood it
because until she'd gotten sick herself she'd
let her own fear hold her back. She'd been
afraid to feel, to let anyone get to close. If
she let people into her heart she had assumed
it would only lead to pain when they were gone.
She knew he needed more time and was willing to
give it to him, despite her ever-mounting
sexual frustration. And it was true he had been
opening up to her at least a little more
lately. Which was why this evening's events
seemed so strange. Why would he completely shut
her out now? Three years ago this kind of thing
wouldn't have suprised her in the least. Now it
seemed almost incomprehensible. Didn't he
realize his behavior would cause her to worry?
Should she be worried? 
	Maybe he was trying to protect her. Maybe
he'd run of on some half-baked quest and gotten
himself in danger. Maybe he didn't want her to
know where he was because he knew she'd come
after him and possibly get hurt. Maybe he was
hurt right now and that's why he wasn't
answering his cell phone. "Dammit Mulder. Where
are you?" Her imagination was beginning to
concoct some truly horrific scenarios. She
checked her watch. 2:45 am. Still early for
Mulder. He rarely slept until at least 4. 
	*Maybe he's just out having fun and he
didn't want you along* The insecure part of her
brain began doing battle with the paranoid
fearful part and she began to realize how
frighteningly similar she and Mulder had
become. She was actually more like him than he
was nowadays.
	Desperately needing a distraction she
flipped on the television. Soylent Green.
Figures. She wondered if Mulder's television
was capable of receiving broadcast waves from
anything other than cheesy sci-fi and porn. He
was such an arrested adolescent in so many
ways. Some endearing, some just irritating. She
flipped to CNN. Maybe there was news of some
unexplained horror that might give her a clue
about where he had wandered off to. Twenty
minutes of weather reports later Scully gave up
and put Soylent Green back on. 
	She wondered briefly if she should call the
Gunmen. No, the situation wasn't that desperate
yet. They probably didn't know where he was and
the last thing she needed was their paranoid
theories fueling her anxiety. She also had to
acknowledge that she was somewhat embarrassed
by her concern. He wasn't exactly a missing
person yet. No she'd at least wait until the
morning for that. If he wasn't home by morning
she'd have justification for this panic. 
	She stretched out on the couch resting her
head on his dirty clothes. She inhaled the
scent of him deeply. Much as she was loath to
admit it she always found the smell of his
sweat extremely arousing. Tonight she found it
comforting. It was a connection, something to
hold onto.
	As soon as she lay down she realized how
exhausted she was. She'd been up most of the
night before, kept from sleep by her merciless
hormones, and it had been a long day. Her mind
was wired and tense but her body was ready for
collapse. *I'll close my eyes for one minute,
just to rest* Those were her last thoughts as
she drifted into a deep dreamless sleep.

XXX

	"Well folks the sun's coming up on what
promises to be a beautiful morning in the DC
metropolitan area. The sun's gonna be melting a
lot of last night's snow so get ready for some
heavy slush." 
	"Tell me about it" Mulder muttered at the
radio announcer. He flipped the dial angrily.
The guy just sounded too cheery. He was right
about the slush though. Driving in it was no
picnic but it was easier than digging his car
out earlier this morning had been. That had
been a royal pain in the ass. 
	He was driving slowly. Slower than usual.
Not because of the weather but because he was
actually frightened to reach his ultimate
destination. First his apartment to change
clothes and then work. He cringed at the
thought of it. How in the hell was he supposed
to walk into that office, to look Scully in the
face with the knowledge of what he'd done
lingering fresh in his mind. Honestly he didn't
know how he could look any woman in the eye
after last night. He was sick, deeply and truly
mentally ill. There was no getting around it
any more. Even that poor, lost little girl he'd
used so thoughtlessly had been able to see how
fucked up he was. She'd felt sorry for him. He
didn't think it could get any more pathetic
than that. There was no way he could have sunk
any lower.
	She'd know. She'd be able to tell
immediately he was sure. She'd sense the guilt
and horror permeating his being the moment she
saw him. She could read him like a cheap
paperback and there was no way he'd be able to
hide from her. She'd know he'd done something
terribly wrong but she wouldn't know what. It
was something so dark, so disturbed that he
knew her sweet angelic mind would never even
conceive of something like it. Never mind think
he would commit such an act. She thought more
highly of him than that. He was certain of
that. If she didn't she never would have come
near him with a ten foot pole. If she knew what
he was capable of she would have run screaming
from his office the day he'd met her.
	He knew she would have been better off that
way. If she'd left that day she would have had
a normal life. She'd probably be married by
now. With kids. God. Kids. He should have told
her that very first day. He should have let her
know just what a twisted individual he was. He
should have warned her what kind of pain she
was in store for being associated with him.
Then she'd have gone away. She'd be happy and
he'd be alone. That was as it should be. But he
was selfish. He could never let her go. From
the first day he'd been hooked on the drug that
is Dana Scully. He needed her like air.
	But now...what was he supposed to do now? He
couldn't keep this from her forever. She'd want
to know what was wrong. She'd probably even be
worried about him. What was he supposed to tell
her? He couldn't put her off forever. She'd
become angry with him if he refused to tell her
anything. But if he told her the truth he'd
never see her again. He had to make something
up. He had to lie. Again. It was the only way.
	He was almost to his building now. Only an
hour or so until he'd be at work. An hour to
think of the lie to end all lies. Not a lie to
find the truth this time but a lie to save his
ass. A lie to Scully. His throat tightened and
he felt moisture welling in his eyes as he
thought of it. How could he lie to her? How
could he not? What could he possibly tell her
that would be the slightest bit believable? 
	Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she wouldn't
notice that anything was wrong at all. Maybe he
could manage to cover up his mental state and
they could just go back to normal (whatever
that was). It was a possibility. A teeny tiny
chance. Much more likely that she would start
questioning him the minute she saw him. 
	He pulled up to his building and walked to
the front door. Once in the elevator to his
floor he noticed that he could still smell the
girl's cheap perfume all over him. He couldn't
wait to get to the shower and try to wipe clean
some of the dirtiness on his body and soul.
Perhaps in the shower he'd think of a
convincing, appropriate story. He was very
creative in the shower for some reason. Or
maybe over his morning coffee. 
	*Ding* The elevator door opened and Mulder
reluctantly walked towards his apartment. He
didn't want to be there. He didn't want to be
anywhere. He realized with alarm that for the
first time since before Scully's recovery, he
wanted to be dead. As he slipped the key into
the latch he had a morbid hope that his
executioner would be waiting on the other side. 
	He was greeted by the chipper voice of a
woman describing a new and exciting model of
juicemakers. An infomercial. *Ahh, early
morning television. Television. Television?!!
He was certain he hadn't left that on when he'd
left. He reached for his weapon and crept
quietly into the living room. It was empty. How
strange. He leaned over and switched the set
off.
	"Late night Agent Mulder?" He jumped. He
actually jumped. He almost screamed. Scully.
Standing in the doorway of his bathroom.
Scully. Looking at him with accusing eyes.
Scully. In his fucking goddamn apartment!!! 

XXX

	He was frozen. A deer in the headlights. He
wasn't moving, wasn't speaking. His mouth was
opening and closing wordlessly. Scully thought
she'd never seen him look more terrified. What
the hell was going on? She walked closer to him
and touched his shoulder. He backed away from
her touch so fast he nearly tripped over the
coffee table.
	"Mulder what is it?" 
	"What are you doing in my apartment?" he was
angry. He didn't want her here.
	"I was worried. Why did you lie to me
Mulder?"
	"What do you mean I lied? Why were you
worried? What the hell are you doing here?" he
was shouting now. And rambling. She couldn't
remember ever seeing him in such a state. So
defensive. But why?
	"Mulder you told me you were home and you
obviously weren't. I got worried. I though
maybe you were in some kind of trouble. I..."
	"Jesus Scully do I have to tell you
everywhere I go every minute of the goddamn
day? I already have a fucking mother Scully!"
	Now she was the one backing away. He was
furious with her. She was actually a little
frightened.
	"Look Mulder. I don't need to know where you
were OK. I just wanted to know that you were
safe. Now I do so I'll just go. I don't
understand why you're acting this way though. I
think you'd feel the same way if the situations
were reversed." She grabbed her coat and headed
for the door. There was no reason for her to
stand there and be yelled at anymore.
	She turned the knob and heard a strange
sound from behind her. It was almost a whimper.
Then a plea.
   "God, Scully. I'm sorry. I'm really so
sorry. Please, don't be angry with me." she
turned around. He was crumpled up on the couch
now and looking at her with an inscrutable
expression. "I understand why you were worried.
I shouldn't have lied to you. I'm sorry OK?"
She walked back towards him and sat in the
chair next to the couch. 
	"Mulder, I'm still worried about you. What
the heck is wrong with you?" Then she noticed
it. The scent. Unfamiliar and nauseating. He
was covered with it. It was perfume. Not hers.
Someone else's. All at once she understood.
He'd been with another woman last night. He was
defensive because he felt guilty about it. He
probably  figured, rightly so, that she would
be hurt by it. It all made perfect sense. 
	"Nothing's wrong Scully. Everything's fine.
Really just...absolutely fine. I was suprised
to see you but, you know, it's OK. I um.. do
you want some breakfast or something?"
	"Who is she?" Damn. She hated the way that
had come out. Jealous and accusatory. And such
a clich‚. He had a right to live his life. If
he couldn't deal with being with her he could
be with whoever he wanted. She wasn't his wife.
For God's sake, she had just been with another
man less than a year ago herself. *But things
were different then* Her mind screamed at her.
And she knew that was true. Everything was
different now. She had a right to be hurt
dammit! She could accept his reluctance to be
intimate with her. But to go to someone else,
it was such a painful thought.
	The way he looked at her erased any
questions about the validity of her theory.
Their eyes locked and a lone tear slid down his
cheek. He shook his head. "Nobody Scully.
Nobody. Can we just forget about it? Please?" 
	She shrugged. She really didn't have the
right to demand anything from him. He didn't
have to tell her. It was really none of her
business. Was it? He seemed so upset though, so
damaged by whatever his encounter had been.
Perhaps it wasn't as simple as she'd first
assumed. "Mulder something's obviously very
wrong here. Please don't shut me out. Whatever
it is you can tell me. I promise I won't be
angry." And that was true. She wasn't angry.
Just hurt and confused. 
	"There's nothing to tell. So um..omlettes? I
make a mean omelet Scully." He stood up and
started heading for the kitchen.
	"Mulder sit down. I don't want an omelet. I
want you to talk to me." He slunk back to the
couch and a terrifying thought popped into her
head. She had to ask. She had to know. Quietly,
full of fear she asked "Do you love her?"
	He shook his head and laughed bitterly "God
Scully, what a question. I don't even know how
to answer that." 
	"How about the truth." She could see a
struggle forming in his features. She got the
sense part of him wanted to tell her about it
but something was holding him back. 
	"There is no her for me to love or not
love." Another obvious lie.
	"Mulder you've been out all night and won't
offer another explanation. You lied to me about
where you were and you smell like a freaking
brothel. If there is no her then what the hell
is going on? Have you started a secret life as
a drag queen?" He cringed at her words. So did
she. She hadn't meant to sound like such a
shrew. She took a deep cleansing breath and let
it out, hoping to expel some of her frustration
along with it.
	"I'm sorry. It's really not my business. But
you just seem so upset. I want to help Mulder."
Her voice softened and she leaned over to put a
hand gently on his knee. "If you'll let me that
is."
	He looked up and met her eyes again. There
was such pain evident in the unfathomable
depths of his suddenly black eyes. More than
she'd ever seen there. And she'd seen a lot.
She squeezed his knee lightly and implored him
"Please don't shut me out Mulder. Let me help
you." For a millisecond his face softened and
he looked ready to crumble into her arms. Then
suddenly, something in him changed, snapped. He
shook his head violently and jerked away from
her hand. He looked at her with anger once
more. Near fury. 
	"You really think you can help me don't you?
Fucking mother Teresa over there." His voice
was full of contempt. The likes of which she
had never heard from him. Even when he'd been
drugged and paranoid. Even when he'd though she
was a spy, working against him.
	"Well, I've got something to tell you Saint
Scully, you're wrong. Dead wrong. The ego on
you. Thinking you can change someone so
intrinsically sick, so fundamentally fucked
up." He stood up and stalked to the window
turning his back to her. She wanted to go to
him but she was terribly scared.
	"Mulder, you're not..." She was cut off by
the sound of the contents of Mulder's desk
being hurled to the floor. Her heart lept into
her throat. He turned to her full of rage. 
	"Shut up! Scully dammit for once in your
life just shut the fuck up and accept who I am.
What I am. You wanna know where I was last
night?" He moved towards her and grabbed her by
the shoulders, shaking her. She was reminded
how much larger he was. Twice her size. Could
she outmaneuver him if he tried to hurt her? No
this was Mulder. He wouldn't. Would he?
	He shook harder. "Do you? Answer me!" She
nodded, trying not to show her fear. If she
spoke she was sure her voice would betray her.
He let go and began pacing around the apartment
in a frenzy. 
	"OK, let's see what you think of this one
divine healer. I smell like a brothel huh?
Well, you wanna know why Scully?" He stood
behind her chair and leaned in to whisper in
her ear. "Because I was with a hooker Scully.
And not just any hooker. No this was a very
special hooker Scully. Special because she had
a striking resemblance to someone we both know.
Can you guess who that was Scully?" She shook
her head trying to keep any and all reaction to
what he was saying from showing on her face. He
moved to face her, sitting on the coffee table
in front of her. He put his hands on his knees
and leaned in almost conversationally.
	"No huh. Well, I'll tell you then. It was
you sweetness. She looked just like you. Except
for the fact that she was about 16 years old of
course." Scully sucked in a breath despite
herself. "Yeah well, you always did look young
for your age Scully. So you want to know what I
did? Probably not but I'm gonna tell you
anyway. I fucked her Scully. I fucked her and I
pretended she was you. I called her Scully and
I told her I loved her and I fucked her brains
out and then I paid her. And you know what
Scully? Even that poor pathetic child could see
me for what I am. So why the fuck can't you?" 
	He closed his eyes for a long moment then
got up and moved back to the couch. The other
side this time, far away from her. He sank down
into the cushions and buried his head in his
hands. She felt paralyzed. Overwhelmed by what
he had just told her and unable to respond at
all. Her first instinct was anger. How could he
do such a stupid, boneheaded thing? How could
he share what was supposed to be their's with a
stranger? How could he have been so
irresponsible? How could he have said "I love
you Scully" to someone else when he hadn't even
said it to her yet? 
	Then in a moment of blinding clarity she
realized that he just had. In his own bizarre
way he had just told her that he loved her. And
how very much that frightened him.
	She stood on shaky legs and moved to stand
before him. "Mulder?" No response. He sat
silently with his face hidden from her. She
kneeled on the floor between his legs and
pulled his hands away from his face. His eyes
were closed.
	"Look at me Mulder." His eyes opened but
wouldn't meet her gaze. He stared at the blank
television screen beyond her.
	"Why are you still here?" His voice was
quiet now. And devoid of emotion.
	"Because I love you too." He grimaced and
squeezed his eyes shut again. It looked like
that was the worst news he'd ever heard.
	"What is that a suprise? Are you really too
wrapped up in your self-reproach to notice
that? Or did you just figure I'd never actually
say it? Well in any case it's the truth Mulder.
I love
you and I know why you did this. You did it
because you're scared and lonely and frustrated
and I understand that because I am too. And now
you're using it as an excuse. To me and
yourself. You're using it as proof that you
don't deserve to be loved. That you don't
deserve me. So that you can push me out of your
life and go back to being alone where it's
safe. And I'm not gonna let you get away with
that." His eyes opened again and Scully saw
that tears had begun to form in them. He shook
his head remorsefully.
	"Why won't you go away?" He was pleading.
	"Don't you know I've got your number G-man?
And that you can't get rid of me this easily?
You think you can hide from me, from this,
behind your wall of insecurity? You think I'm
gonna let you off that easy? Before we've even
given this a chance?" Something about the
absurdity of the situation gave her a courage
she'd never had before. She leaned in, still
holding his hands in his lap, and gently
touched her lips to his. He was completely
rigid and still against her. It was like
kissing a doll. No response. His eyes stayed
open watching her with dismay. She started
moving her mouth more demandingly, trying to
pry his tightly sealed lips apart.
	"Scully stop." he whispered against her
mouth. "Please just stop." She took the
opportunity to slip her tongue inside his mouth
quickly and dart it out again to moisten his
lower lip. His breath was quickening though he
still wasn't kissing her back.
	"You don't want this Scully. Not really.
You'll be sorry." he was gasping now, sounding
more and more desperate. His words annoyed her.
She was a grown up. And she knew exactly what
she wanted. 
	She stopped kissing him long enough to tell
him "You don't have to protect me from this
Mulder. I need this. Make us both happy and
give it to me." 

XXX

	The tension was enough to break him in two.
He held his body perfectly still but inside he
felt as though his every bone was trembling.
She was kissing him! He'd told her his most
horrible, depraved secret and she was still
here, kissing him. She was obviously in shock
from what he'd told her. This couldn't be her
real response. Could it? She started stroking
his legs and found his mouth with her own once
more. Her sweet smell and taste were
everywhere. All his senses were achingly aware
of her. He'd never wanted anything more. *Don't
hurt her* he repeated it like a mantra in his
head. 
	Her little body moved against him. She was
so close. So close to touching him. Her hands.
God *Don't hurt her Don't hurt her* Her teeth
gripped his bottom lip and she sucked at it.
*Don't hurt her* Her hands crept further up his
thighs. *donthurtherdonthurtherdonthurther* Her
hands slid from his legs to his stomach,
slipping under his shirt. Her mouth opened
completely and covered his, her tongue probing
between his lips. He let out a primal
animalistic cry and finally, unable to resist,
to deny her anything, grabbed her shoulders and
plunged his tongue deep into her mouth. 
	Before he knew what was happening he had shoved her to
the floor with an ape-like grunt  and was on writhing on top
of her. All the love, all the frustration, all the passion
and the fury inside him for so long were coming out in a
deafening explosion. He felt drugged, deranged, completely
out of control. It felt wonderful.
	He grabbed her hands and held them over her
head as he kissed and bit his way down her
neck. She had spread her legs and taken him
between them and was thrusting her hips up to
meet his. He was losing his mind. That had to
be it. This was all a big hallucination or a
dream and he was going to wake up alone and
humping his carpet. His carpet never smelled
like that though. And it never moaned like
that. God she was moaning. The sound traveled
from his ear directly to his groin. He let go
of her hands and began tugging roughly at her
blouse. He needed more of her. More skin. More
to devour. More to try to crawl into. He pulled
and the delicate silk tore in his demanding
hands. He attacked her collarbone with his
mouth. She was saying something but he couldn't
hear. All he could hear was the roar in his
ears. Like the sound of a seashell. She jerked
up against him and the friction with his crotch
was enough to send him over the edge. He would
have come right there if he hadn't stopped
himself.
	Suddenly he felt something different. Some
resistance. Her hands were on his chest. Not
pulling him to her but pushing him off.
Shitshitshit. Realizing what was happening,
what had been happening, he rolled off her
quickly and scurried to sit on the floor far
away from her. She stood and dusted herself
off. She was so beautiful. Messy and flushed
with her ripped blouse. He couldn't even look
at her. He'd screwed it up. Again. She had been
trying to give him an innocent sweet kiss and
he'd jumped her like some kind of animal. Worst
of all he was still aroused. He couldn't stop
panting and his damn annoying dick refused to
settle down. Would he ever stop being such a
dumb fuck?
	Then she did something so strange. She
laughed. Almost giggled. Was she laughing at
him. God he could handle her anger, which he
was sure he was going to get, but laughing at
him? He couldn't live with that.
	"Little eager there Mulder?" her voice was
light and full of mirth. What was that about?
	"God, I'm so sorry Scully." he muttered with
his head hung low. She walked to him and held
out her hand. He looked up into her face and
saw no anger or ridicule. Only desire.
	"Don't be. Please. I like it. Come here." He
looked at her hand then back up into her eyes.
She still wanted him. After all this she still
wanted him. She liked it. He took her hand and
rose to his feet vaguely embarrassed about the
evidence of his body's reaction to her. These
damn pants never hid anything. She started
walking, leading him out of the living room.
	"Where are we going?" he didn't have a
bedroom. There were only so many places to go
in his apartment.
	"To get you cleaned up. I don't care much
for your new perfume Mulder."
	 She was leading him to the bathroom. The
shower. Jesus. He swallowed the golf ball sized
lump in his throat and asked, in what he prayed
would be a low, sexy tone "You gonna wash my
back Scully?" He did fine until "back". Then
his voice betrayed him by turning into a high
pitched squeak. *Nice going puberty boy*
	She didn't seem to notice. She just turned
back to him and smiled that little smile of
hers that made his stomach twist into a knot,
said "Maybe", and pulled him along behind her.
God his bathroom was a pigsty. He was worried
it would disgust her and ruin the mood but she
didn't seem to notice that either. 
	She led him in and turned on the water in
the shower. Then she moved to face him again
and gazed into his eyes. "I love it when you
look at me like that." Oh God. He couldn't even
imagine how he must be looking at her. But he
wanted to know. To see himself through her
eyes. 
	"How's that Scully?"
	"The way you were looking at me in the
office yesterday, the way you looked at me that
night in Florida when my poor little fire went
out, the way you're looking at me right now.
You make me feel beautiful Mulder, and wanted.
Do I ever do that for you?"
	He'd never really though of it that way
before but he had to admit that yes, sometimes
she did make him feel like that and that once
in a blue moon that feeling from her was enough
to overwhelm his doubts and insecurities if
only for an instant and that those moments were
the best in his life. 
	"Yes, you...you're doing it right now." 
	She smiled and started unbuttoning his
shirt. "Good. I want to do that Mulder. I want
to make you feel as good as you make me feel."
God her voice was like silk. Husky and
breathless. He couldn't remember ever being so
turned on in his life. "I want you to see
yourself the way I see you. I want you to see
the beautiful, brilliant, gentle, passionate
man that I see every day." Was that how she saw
him? Was that how he was?
	"Scully um...you're not just doing this to
make me feel better are you?"
	"I'm doing this to make us both feel
better." She pulled his shirt from his chest
and tossed it into the pile of dirty laundry in
the corner. He hoped she wouldn't notice that
his skin was completely covered with goose
bumps. The hair on his chest was practically
standing on end. When her tiny hands started
working on his belt buckle he almost squealed
with delight. Then he felt her fingers pulling
his fly down and brushing against his crotch
and he couldn't help but moan. He started to
jerk into her hand but pulled back, trying
desperately to restrain himself.
	She looked up at him. "Don't do that Mulder.
Don't hold back. Not with me. I want to feel
you want me. I want you to give me everything
you've got." She pulled his pants down and then
slid his boxers gently away from his throbbing
erection. Her work done she backed up a step to
look at him. She smiled. And then she smirked.
And then she started giggling again. The same
way as before. And he was alarmed, the same way
he'd been before. Was it his body? Was she
actually laughing at his body?
	"Fox in socks." She managed to get out
between giggles. He looked down. He was indeed
wearing socks. Socks with a hideous paisley
pattern on them. And nothing else. And then he
smiled. And then he actually laughed because it
was pretty damn funny. He pulled them off and
tossed them into the pile and then moved
menacingly towards her. 
	"You're gonna get it for that."
	She smiled coyly at him "I hope so". He
grabbed her arms and looked down at her. She
was still laughing a little bit. She seemed
almost giddy. Almost drunk. Was she actually as
anxious for this as he was? It was starting to
seem that way.
	"You look so pretty when you laugh Scully. I
have fantasies sometimes just about seeing you
laugh." She caught his eyes and he saw tears
starting to well in hers. 
	"Mulder take off my clothes." Her tone was
suddenly serious again. He let go of her arms
and started to unbutton her blouse. His hands
were trembling quite noticeably and he had to
remind himself to go slowly this time. To savor
this. One, two, three buttons came undone with
ease. He was proud. No ripping his time. He
pulled the blouse from her and she was standing
before him in faded jeans and a simple purple
bra. 
	How had this happened? How had he ended up
here? With this vision in front of him. With
Dana Scully half naked in his steam filled
bathroom about to take a shower with him. He
didn't know and he was beyond caring. He was
about to get a view of paradise.
	"Front or back?" he asked anxiously. She
raised that damn perfect eyebrow and fixed him
with a killer grin.
	"What exactly are you referring to Mulder?"
God he was such a doof.
	"Front." She laughed and pointed to a small
clasp between her breasts. Between her breasts.
He was about to reach between her breasts. He
ran his trembling finger down the smooth
surface of the strap and then across the top of
where the fabric covered her and finally dipped
into her cleavage. He pulled open the clasp and
the thing just popped right off. He was
stunned. He was bowled over. He'd never seen
anything as awe inspiring as her naked chest in
his life. He was so captivated all he could do
was stare for a long time. He studied every
curve, every subtlety, everything that made
them Scully's breasts and noone else's. He
noticed a small birth mark in the curve under
her left one and for some reason this
completely did him in. He fell to his knees
before her and buried his face between them. 
	He wrapped his arms around her waist and 
placed his lips over that beautiful birthmark.
>From there he slowly moved up covering her
entire breast with kisses. She moaned and
pulled his head closer to her. Encouraged he
flicked his tongue lightly over her hardened
nipple.
	"Oh God Mulder" Did she just say that? How
many times he'd fantasized about hearing her
say that he did not know. But he wanted to make
her say it again. And again and again.
	He slid his hands down to cup her wonderful
little ass that he couldn't quite believe he
was touching and squeezed her tight. God it was
getting hot in here. The steam from the running
shower and Scully's writhing body were
combining to bring his body temperature to a
roaring boil. He moved his hands around to the
front of her jeans and started with the
buttons. More buttons. Why did she have to wear
button flies? He pulled at them frustrated and
finally they gave. He slid the denim down her
legs and took the opportunity to admire those
from close up as well. Beautiful, strong,
freckle covered legs. So much Scully skin
everywhere. It was overwhelming. Then he looked
up and saw her pretty purple panties staring
him in the face and just about died.
	She wanted him! He could smell her arousal,
he could see it staining the cloth. God she was
wet. For him. He needed to be closer to that.
Aroused almost to the point of insanity he tore
the panties from her body, unconcerned at this
point with finesse. He heard the now familiar
sound of tearing silk but barely even noticed
it. And then she was completely naked. Standing
in front of him. In his bathroom.

XXX

	Scully was never really into drugs. She'd
tried a little pot in college, liked a drink
now and again, but she'd never tried anything
else. Heroin, ecstasy, she'd avoided the whole
shebang. She knew the dangers they held but
she'd always been curious what it actually felt
like to be so completely gone. To be so lost in
sensation that you completely lose yourself. As
she stood there with Mulder's hands and mouth
frantically stroking her naked body, as she
looked down and saw him kneeling before her,
his huge gorgeous cock twitching anxiously
between his legs, his face full of wonder and
such raw open lust, she thought that maybe she
had a taste of that feeling for the first time
in her life.
	But he still smelled like that girl and she
needed to smell him. Besides they were going to
run out of hot water soon. She pulled him to
his feet and led him into the shower. It was a
tiny little cubicle, barely enough room for one
person, which was perfect in her eyes. She
needed desperately to be close to him, to feel
that hard, hot body pressing against her. She
took the soap from its dish and told him to
turn around.
	"How come?"
	"I'm gonna wash your back silly." He
swallowed and did as she asked. He stood facing
the hot spray from the shower head and she
stood behind him, wedged between his body and
the cold tile wall, and started lathering up
his back. It was a beautiful back. Scully had a
thing for backs. Her own was extremely
sensitive. That was one of her little secrets
from Mulder. If he knew how turned on she got
every time he put his hand on the small of her
back, he'd be doing it every single day.
Mulder's back was smooth and muscular and,
thank goodness, hairless. She ran her fingers
through the suds and lightly massaged his
shoulders. He sighed contentedly and leaned
into her stroking. Slowly she worked her way
down, kneading the muscles in her hands,
washing away the tension and fatigue in his
form.
	Eventually she reached his ass. God that
ass. There were days when she had to physically
restrain herself from reaching out and grabbing
that amazing thing. Not anymore. Not today. She
moved the soap down and gave it the same
treatment she'd given his back. It felt
wonderful in her grasp. 
	"Mmmmm Scully. That feels really good."
Inspired and hungry for more she reached her
soapy hands around to his front and grabbed his
hardness. He gasped and thrust involuntarily
into her palm.
	"How does that feel?" With one hand she
soaped up his balls and with the other slowly
stroked his throbbing erection.
	"Jesus Scully. I ahhhh oh my GOD." She
smiled, pleased and aroused by his reaction. It
actually felt like it was getting bigger.
Growing in her hand to an impossible size. She
sped up her movements a bit wanting to see just
how gigantic and engorged it would get before
he finally exploded. He let out a sound that
could only be described as a growl and grabbed
her wrist. Then, before she knew what was
happening, he'd spun around and had her off her
feet and pinned against the wall. Her ass was
in his hands and her crotch and face were level
with his.
	His mouth crushed against hers for the first
time since they'd left the living room. His
kiss was crazed and completely out of control.
She was glad. Their tongues met and twined
around each other like mating snakes. She
wrapped her legs around his waist and ground
herself against his sudsy hardness. God it felt
good. His mouth traveled across her face and
down her neck. Licking, biting, sucking
everywhere. He thrust against her and she cried
out. It felt so so good.
	"You like that?" he whispered breathlessly
in her ear. And then he did it again. And then
again. She dug her nails into his shoulder
blades and simply moaned "yes" in response. She
was close. God she was about to come. Already.
He ran his tongue back and forth over a
particularly sensitive area behind her ear and
rubbed himself against her faster and faster.
Her whole body was trembling. The pressure
inside her was reaching the breaking point. 
She grabbed a chunk of his hair and pulled on
it. Hard. It had the desired effect. He lifted
his head from the cradle of her neck and looked
her in the eye. She wanted him to see her when
he made her come. Wanted him to know the effect
he had on her. 
	He was rapt. She'd never seen him look at
anything with such intensity and fascination.
His passion, his desire, it was hers. It was
all directed at her. Had it always been that
way? Perhaps it had but in that moment it
filled her in a completely unique way. It was
dizzying. And it was just enough to push her
over that one final edge into oblivion.
	"Oh Mulder...Mulder YES!" She convulsed,
pumping furiously against his cock. Her eyes
closed and she threw her head against the wall.
Somewhere in the back of her mind the pain of
the impact registered but it was completely
overwhelmed by the pleasure she felt in every
other part of her body.
	As she slowly made her way back to the land
of the living he stroked her body and placed
light, soft kisses over her face. She opened
her eyes and for a moment everything looked
blurry. Then he was there. Clear and grinning
at her like a Cheshire cat, his hair wet and
messy, water dripping down his beautiful face. 
	"That was amazing Scully. I wanna make you
come every day for the rest of my life."
	She laughed. "What about the rest of today
tiger?"
	"That too." 
	She reached between them and took his sex in
her hand placing it at her entrance. "I want
you inside me Mulder."
	Suddenly his face was awash with panic and
uncertainty again. "Really?"
	"Really Mulder." She nodded enthusiastically
for emphasis. "Really really. Make love to me
Mulder. Now."
	He took a deep breath and slowly with gentle
care, he slid inside her. He got half way
inside and she couldn't help but gasp slightly
from the pain. His eyes flew open and he
stopped moving completely.
	"God, I'm hurting you aren't I?" He looked
absolutely horrified. It did hurt a bit but
that was only natural given the circumstances.
	She shook her head, "Mulder it doesn't
matter. I..."
	"Of course it matters! How can you say it
doesn't? It's not..I can't...Scully I'm too
big. I'm sorry."
	*Jesus H Christ Mulder!* He had to be the
only man on the face of the planet who would be
insecure about his penis being "too big"! The
man even managed to turn his assets into
faults. She didn't know whether to laugh or
cry.
	"I love you Mulder. All of you." She looked
pointedly downwards. "It hurts a tiny bit
because I haven't had anything down there in a
long time. And what has been there has not been
nearly as impressive as what's there now." He
smiled a little at that. "It feels good though
Mulder. I like it. And if you keep going it
will stop hurting and feel even better."
	"So you...you want me to keep going?"
	She smiled "Would you please?"
	He nodded nervously and moved a little
deeper. Then deeper still. Finally he was in
her up to the hilt. She felt full, complete.
Like the missing piece of a puzzle had been put
into place finally. It felt like he was
everywhere. Like he reached every part of her. 
	 Slowly, so slowly he started thrusting
inside her. He moaned and brought his lips to
hers. His tongue, another suprisingly long
Mulder-appendage, moved in and out of her mouth
in rhythm with his lower body. 
	The slow thing felt wonderful but after a
few moments she was completely stretched out,
completely used to him, and needed to feel
more. He was being so gentle. She almost
couldn't feel him there anymore.
	Soon his entire body was trembling with the
effort to keep the pace like this. He was doing
it for her. Restraining himself again to avoid
hurting her. 
	"Harder Mulder" she begged him breathlessly.
	He searched her eyes for any sign of
insincerity. "Are you sure?"
	"I'm not gonna break Mulder. Please. Please
fuck me the way you really want to."
	"Scully I..." she tightened her vaginal
muscles around him pulling him deeper inside.
"Scuuuulyyy. don't. want. to. hurt. you."
	"You're not. Give it to me Mulder. Take me.
PLEASE" 
	He cried out, seemingly unable to control
himself anymore, and started slamming into her.
First a slow almost complete withdrawal then a
hard fast slam. Retreat and advance. Their
tongues met in the open air and danced lewdly.
She felt obscenely good. She'd never been
kissed like that. She'd never been fucked like
that. How could he have thought she wouldn't
want this? Who the hell wouldn't want this?!
	
XXX

	He had to be in heaven. Hot, wet, tight
heaven. Home. Finally, finally home. He wanted
to ask her if she liked it. If it felt as good
to her as it did to him. But he was beyond
words. Lost completely in the sensation of
consuming her, being consumed. Besides, the
sight of her, head thrown back, mouth open and
eyes closed in ecstasy, was enough of an answer
for him.
	She was amazing. Wild and free and filled
with passion. Better than his wettest wet
dream. For him. All for him. She'd come. He had
actually made her come. He was still reeling
from it. She'd been so gorgeous. 
	Something inside him had changed. Something
about hearing her beg for him to give himself
to her had caused a dim little lightbulb to go
on inside his brain. When she implored him to
take her, to fuck her the way he wanted to,
he'd come to a stunning realization. He'd been
holding back so as not to hurt her. But it was
having the reverse effect. His reluctance to
give himself to her completely was actually the
only thing he was doing to hurt her. She wanted
it. She wanted him. And not an idealized
version of him she might have had in her head
before today. She'd seen the worst of him. He'd
bared it to her and she was still here. After
that, after all she'd given up for him in the
past, how could he refuse her the one thing
she'd ever asked of him.
	He'd surrendered his control for her. It was
all he could give her, all she wanted from him
and it was the most difficult thing she could
have asked for. But now that he had he realized
there were plenty of selfish advantages to it.
He'd never felt so uninhibited while making
love before. Most of his sexual experiences had
been one night stands. He could never lose
himself like this with a stranger. There just
wasn't enough level of comfort there. The few
times he'd tried to mix sex and feelings had
been horrifying disasters so he'd pretty much
learned to separate the act from the feelings
even with people he cared for.
	This was different. He'd never been so
thoroughly there yet so completely gone before.
He couldn't think. Didn't want to. All he could
do was surrender to the pleasure she was
sharing with him. And the feelings. God they
were there. Stronger than he'd ever felt them.
It was a completely new sensation. It was
better than anything he'd ever experienced.
	Sudden pain. Fingernails digging into his
back. Her body trembling in his hands. Her
voice in his ear. "Faster Mulder. God faster."
He sped up his movements, pumping furiously,
increasing his own pleasure. He was teetering
on the brink. If she didn't come soon he was
gonna be in trouble. He didn't have to wait
long.
	"ohgodohgodohgod MULDER" Her nails dug even
deeper into his flesh, most certainly drawing
blood. Her legs pulled him closer. She
contracted around him pulling him deeper,
tighter. It was too much. He was dying. Or
dreaming. Maybe he was already dead.
	"Come for me Mulder. Come into me."
	God. Not yet. Not yet. He still hadn't told
her. She still didn't know. Not really. He had
to find language. Before it was too late.
	"SSS...Scullllly. L..L..Love you. Love you.
Love you." he came so hard it was almost
painful. Slamming her against the wall,
shooting into her body. And he screamed. He
actually screamed. The sound reverberated off
the tile walls and some dim part of his brain
registered that it had come from him. He
couldn't believe it. The neighbors would think
he was being murdered.
	Finally his legs gave out and he sank, still
inside her, to his knees on the floor of the
shower. She sat on his lap, still wrapped
around him. She stroked his hair and kissed his
face and wiped away tears he hadn't realized
he'd been shedding.
	They held each other like that for a long
time and he relished the feeling of her body
draped over him. It was so warm here, so safe
and good. He understood, for the first time,
why Freud had believed men sought out women to
make love to in an attempt to return to the
womb. He didn't have any recollection from his
waking life similar to the experience of
sitting on the shower floor still inside
Scully's body but he assumed it was somehow
related to a fetal state. So so warm.
	Then suddenly cold. Very very cold. Shit.
Scully shrieked in a truly adorable way and
jumped off him to turn off the water. He
supposed it was lucky the hot water had lasted
this long. But he was sad that it had run out.
It meant they had to leave the shower and
Mulder was afraid of life outside of the
shower. He reluctantly rose to his feet and
Scully turned to face him again. "So much for
that." She was smiling. She obviously had no
fear of post-shower life. "So do you have any
towels in this place Mulder?" Towels. Yes
towels. That's a good idea. Why hadn't he
thought of it? Why was he still making no move
to get them? Why was he just standing there
watching her naked shivering body like a moron?
	"Mulder?"
	"Right towels. Sorry. Kinda zoned out there
for a sec. Um..wait right there."
	He went to the bathroom closet and pulled
out a small towel for himself and a
ridiculously huge one for her. He went back to
the shower and wrapped it around her. She
laughed. "This could be a blanket Mulder." He
smiled and wrapped his towel around his waist.
	"You looked cold."
	She started to leave the shower and he
grabbed her by the shoulders.
	"What is it?"
	"I dunno. Just...don't go out there yet.
Stay in here with me for a while
	 They'd done it. They'd finally actually
done it and she was here. Still alive, still
with him. No mysterious forces had come and
taken her away from him. The world hadn't
stopped spinning on its axis. None of the
things he'd imagined when he'd thought of this
moment had occurred. Where did they go now?
What did it mean? Was that it? Was she going to
leave him now and just pretend it had never
happened? She stood on her toes and gently
kissed him.
	"Mulder we can't stay in here forever. We
have to go to work soon. We're already late."
	Work? WORK? They had to go to work. He'd
forgotten work existed. He'd forgotten anything
existed.
	"You want to go to work now?" He was
whining. The tone of his voice was annoying
even to him. He sounded like a petulant child
asking mommy why he had to go to school.
	"No Mulder. What I want to do is stay here
and make love to you until we collapse from
exhaustion but I think that's gonna have to
wait till tonight."
	Tonight. There was going to be a tonight?
Thank you Jesus there was going to be a
tonight. He had made love to her and she hadn't
run away. She wanted more. She was his lover.
He was going to spend tonight with his lover
Dana Scully. But how? How could it be that
simple? But somehow it was. Somehow she was
with him, the way she'd always been and they
were connected the way they'd always been and
things really weren't that different. Just
better. Better than things had been with her or
anyone else in his entire life. The image of
where he'd been just a few hours before passed
through his mind and he cringed. How could he
have been so stupid? How could he have thought
some cheap substitute could ever come close to
the real thing? He was such a royal ass-hole.
To have done something so potentially damaging
to his relationship with Scully, he had to be
out of his mind. Then he remembered. He was out
of his mind. She was in danger being in a
relationship with him. What if he did something
else to hurt her? She seemed to read the sudden
terror on his face.
	"Mulder I know you're scared. I am too.
We're both so terrified of caring too much, of
losing the people we love. But I refuse to let
that fear rule my life anymore. I want this. I
don't want to waste any more time. I'm ready
for this. I'm tired of my fear of death and
loss making me afraid to live. I want to live
Mulder. I want to love and be loved and I want
you to be a part of that."
	"But why Scully? Aren't you afraid I'll hurt
you? I mean now that you know what I'm ...I
mean the way I.."
	"Mulder you did something terrifically
stupid OK. I think we can both acknowledge
that." Sometimes Scully had a knack for
understatement. "And if you ever do something
so idiotic, so mind-bendingly self destructive
and infuriating again I will kick your ass. And
you better believe that." He did. Lord how he
did. "But I don't think you will Mulder because
I'm going to prove to you that you deserve to
be happy and loved. And I'm not going to let
you get away with this pushing me away bullshit
anymore. No more crap Mulder. I want to be
there for you but I need you to be with me on
this. You can't hold back from me anymore and I
need to know that you want this as much as I
do."
	How could she not know that? He thought it
had to be the most obvious thing in the world. 
"Scully I want this more than anything. You
have to know that. But I can't promise you that
this is gonna be perfect. I can't tell you that
I'm going to be everything you need me to be."
	"All I need you to be is honest. I just need
you to be yourself. To be the man I'm in love
with. And to let yourself be loved."

XXX

	He seemed to believe her. Almost. She knew
it was going to take more than words to
convince this man that he was worthy of love.
She knew her actions would have to speak to him
as well. And she knew she had her own fears to
deal with too. It was going to be a lot of
work. But her relationship with Mulder had
always been a lot of work. And the rewards of
being able to make love to him were enough to
make it worth it. 
	His love was a terrifying thing. But it was
also a beautiful, life-affirming, astonishing
thing. Those few moments when he'd actually let
her see his overwhelming passion and desire had
been the most gratifying moments of her life.
If he'd been anyone else she would have been
frightened by the strength and power of his
lust. But it had been Mulder and feeling Mulder
pounding into her like a maniac and screaming
bloody murder in her ear as he came had filled
her not with fear but with joy. And comfort. He
was hers. And she was his. That was really the
essential thing. 
	It seemed funny to her that two people who'd
faced so many terrifying nightmares, so many
monsters human and otherwise, would be more
afraid of their own love than anything else.
But in a way it made sense. Love they couldn't
control. Their guns and FBI training, their
immunity to violence and terror were of no use
to them here. They had nothing to fall back on
but their own feelings. That was a scary thing.
But they'd made it this far. And she knew
they'd find a way to make this work. The way
they made everything work. Together.

-- End --