From: mason@umr.edu (Niki)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: New: Grief and Consequences (1/2)
Date: 28 Feb 1996 00:20:52 GMT


I know that this is a bit late, but I just thought about this while I should 
have been paying attention in a really boring lecture on intrinsic viscosity 
and molecular weight averages.  This takes place directly after "Paperclip" 
and has lots of third season references (pretty much the whole damn thing)  
and is just a small hypothesis for the current relationship between the two 
characters.  For the sake of the story, this will end (and was started) before 
"Pusher."  Welcome back UST!!!!  Warm fuzzies.  Whatever.

"On Eagles' Wings" and "Be Not Afraid" are used in here.  I have no clue who 
the copyright goes to and I think I messed up a few of the words.  It's been a 
year or two (or ten) since I've even heard these songs and I was pretty much 
relying on my selective memory (and Missy's) for the verses.  Also there is a 
reference to Joan Osborne's "What if God Was One of Us."

You know you're an X-phile when even church stuff, not counting the 
"Revelations" ep, reminds you of the show.

Disclaimer: The songs have already been acknowledged.  The characters are 
property of Chris Carter, the almighty, and whoever else legally.  The events 
are a major guess and are not proven.

Also, I make reference to "Reminder" by Jennifer Lyon  and an event that 
occurs in it about the "Grotesque" episode.  This event is used with her 
permission.  And there's a mention of a thread I saw in the newsgroup.  I 
laughed about it because it seemed reasonable and entirely possible.  Hey, we 
all have one of those days.  Even guys. My brother has one almost every week.

Enough babbling...

Warning: Some language

Grief and Consequences (1/2)
	By
	Nicole Mason
		mason@umr.edu

	Her head rested against his while his arm encircled her back.  They 
stayed in the hospital room, just gathering strength from being near each 
other.  He hadn't had a chance to grieve yet for his loss, but now wasn't the 
time for him either.  It was Scully's time.

	 A nurse finally came to the room.  She saw the two wrapped together 
in their sorrow and turned away.  She didn't have the heart to ask them to 
leave, but they must have heard her.  They pulled away from each other and 
stood up.  She watched their closeness with a bit a envy.  They would have 
each other to help lessen the pain.

	The funeral was two days later.  Mulder hadn't seen Scully since he'd 
dropped her off at her mother's after the hospital.  Watching her now, his 
heart twisted in his chest and he realized he was responsible for one more 
person's death.  Something weighed more heavily on them than that; Scully was 
suffering because of him.

	She had managed a tight smile when he walked up to the family.  He had 
hugged Mrs. Scully and finally met Scully's two brothers.  What a joyous 
occasion to do so.  He had tried to disappear into the crowd of her family and 
friends, but Scully's hand reached for his had stopped him. 

	So now he was in the front of the church with the close family members 
watching his partner barely hold back her tears.  A small sob escaped her at 
the song that started.

	The snare of the fowler will never capture you,
	And famine will bring you no fear.
	Say to the Lord my refuge, 
	My rock in whom I trust. 

	And He will raise you up
	On eagles' wings
	Bear you on the breath of dawn,
	make you to shine like the sun,
	and hold you, hold you in the palm of His hand.


	He brushed her fingers with his just to let her know he was there for 
her, that he was nearby.  He was surprised when she grasped his hand and held 
on tight.  But she had calmed down a little and was making the appropriate 
responses at the appropriate times again.  She didn't go to Communion with the 
rest of her family in the pew.  She kept her death grip on his fingers and 
they both watched the procession of people as they walked past the casket to 
the priest.

	The choir started a new song as the priest brought the ceremony to a 
close  and Scully started to tremble.  By the time the refrain started her 
whole body was shaking.

	You shall cross the barren desert,
	But you shall not die of thirst.
	You shall wander far in safety,
	Though you do not know the way.
	You shall speak your words in foreign lands,
	And all will understand.
	You shall see the face of God and live.

	Be not afraid,
	I go before you always.
	Come follow me,
	And I will give you rest.

	If you pass through raging waters,
	In the sea, you shall not drown,
	If you walk amid the burning flames,
	You shall not be harmed.
	If you stand before the power of hell,
	And death is at your side,
	Know that I am with you through it all.

	As they stepped out of the pew and into the aisle, Mulder pulled her 
close and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.  He felt another wave of guilt 
as she leaned into him.  She shouldn't have to be at her sister's funeral.  
Scully and Melissa should be at their mother's house, complaining about him or 
each other.  But now, because of him and the mess he had dragged Scully into, 
that wasn't going to happen ever again.

	Mulder listened to what the priest said at the grave site.  Mrs. 
Scully must have given him the words because they seemed to express every 
impression he'd had about Melissa.  He held back a wince as Scully's nails dug 
into his palm.  He looked down at the woman seated next to him and wondered 
how she managed to hold it all in.  Her eyes were huge and tortured with her 
emotions, but her face was impassive.  He realized she was burying these 
emotions, probably in the same place that held the ones about her 
disappearance.

	Mulder never knew how large some families could be until everyone was 
at Mrs. Scully's after the funeral.  He felt extremely uncomfortable around 
the aunts, uncles, cousins, great-aunts, great-uncles, second cousins, etc, 
but he couldn't leave.  Scully needed him there.

	Hours later, most of the people had left and Mulder was trying to 
clean up some of the mess.  He didn't think he was helping any; he thought he 
was actually making some of it worse.

	Mrs. Scully came over to him and said, "Thank you, Fox.  But why don't 
you take Dana home."  He just looked at her and she shook her head.  "I 
probably won't sleep tonight anyway and cleaning up will give me something to 
do."

	"Let me make sure it's OK with Scully."  He thought he knew Scully's 
answer and made a mental note of where he was at in the picking up the mess.

	He was surprised again when she said she wanted to leave, but she 
added,  "Mulder, I don't want to go home."  He barely processed those words 
before she continued, "May I stay at your place tonight?"  He nodded and 
watched Scully walk down a hall and into one of the bedrooms to get her 
things.

	He went to find Mrs. Scully and reported back to her.  "Scully said 
OK, but..." He paused as he thought about how his next words were going to 
sound.  "She doesn't want to go to her place.  So she'll be over at mine.  You 
have the number?"

	Mrs. Scully nodded.  "Take care of her, Fox.  She's going to be 
stubborn, but she needs you right now."

	Mulder just nodded.

		* * * * *

	Dana laid in the darkened room and stared at the ceiling.  She could 
no longer  hear the muted sounds of the TV in the other room, so there wasn't 
a hint about Mulder's state of consciousness.  She knew she was avoiding 
things by staying at his place.  She would have to go home sooner or later.  
She would have to walk up the same steps Missy had before she was shot.  She 
would have to open the same door Missy had.  She would have to stand in the 
same spot Missy had.  She would have to see the stain on the floor.  She would 
have to clean Missy's blood from her home before she moved.

	She knew that moving was her only option.  How could she go home day 
after day and see the exact spot where her sister had been killed?  She bit 
her lip and tasted blood.  It should have been her.  She turned onto her side 
and buried her head in the pillow next to her.

	Mulder quietly walked down the hall to the bathroom.  He heard the sob 
that made its way under the door.  His hand reached for the knob and he 
twisted it without knocking.  "Scully?" he asked as he moved to stand by the 
side of the bed.  When she didn't answer, he sat down by her hip.  "Dana?"  He 
was unprepared for the way she launched herself into his arms.

	For the longest time, he just held her.  He didn't rock, or mumble 
soothing words, or run his hand up and down her back.  He just held her and 
let her get rid of all of the grief.

	She knew she was going to hate herself for this weakness later, but 
right now she needed the illusion that she was safe.  

	Mulder felt her relax and drift  into sleep almost an hour later.  His 
neck had a crink in it, but he was afraid if he moved she would wake up.  When 
he lost feeling in his legs, he shifted to lay her back on the pillows.  He 
sat up and was moving off the bed when he felt her hand on his thigh.

	"Mulder?"

	He looked down at her and his body refused to move.  He wasn't going 
to make her ask.  He laid down next to her and pulled her into his side.  It 
was his turn to stare up at the ceiling and he did so until he could see the 
sunlight stream into the room.  Then his mind finally shut down enough for him 
to find a couple of hours of oblivion.

	Scully woke up exhausted.  Her eyes were dry, her throat raw, and her 
nose was stopped up.  She turned over and was confronted by Mulder's New York 
Knicks T-shirt.  The night before flooded her mind.  She didn't feel as bad 
about her loss of control as she thought she would.

	Mulder understood.

	She fought her way out from under the covers and into the bathroom.  
She felt better after the hot shower and went to start some coffee.

	Mulder was aware of her movements on some level, but he wasn't 
concerned enough to move.  He knew who it was and he knew he could trust her 
while he was in the vulnerable state of sleep.  The smell of coffee broke 
through his paralysis sometime later.  He heeded the call and groggily stood 
up.  A detour to the shower and a date with his razor had him feeling awake, 
if not alive.

	"I think I'm a little underdressed," he said as he sat down and 
accepted the Cup of Life.

	She looked down at her work clothes and then at his jeans, black 
shirt, and bare feet. There was a small smile and Mulder felt like he 
conquered the world.  "If it's OK, I want to go by the office, before you take 
me..."

	He watched the smile fade and her eyes brighten with tears.  They 
didn't fall, though.  He knew Scully was in control of herself again.  "I'll 
go change."  He stood up and took the coffee cup with him.  He turned back to 
face her when he reached the doorway.  "Scully, you can stay here as long as 
you want."

	She looked up from her hands and nodded.  "Thanks, Mulder.  But I'll 
have to face it some time."

	"What if I buy us dinner, and you can help me fill out all the 
paperwork I need to finish?"  

	She knew what he was doing and appreciated it.  "Sure, Mulder.  I have 
my own forms to fill out as well."

	They had no problems getting into the building and down to their 
office even though neither one of them had been officially reinstated.  The 
phone was ringing as they stepped into the darkened interior.  The guards must 
have called Skinner as soon as they had been out of ear shot.  Mulder hung his 
head and looked extremely put upon as he listened.  Scully's question 
consisted of an arched eyebrow.  "He wants to see us right now."

	"Well, let's get this over with then," she said and headed out of the 
office.

	It wasn't a chewing out.  Skinner was actually quite pleasant to the 
both of them.  He gave them each the necessary forms they would have to 
complete before they could be reinstated.  And he offered his condolences to 
Scully.  Mulder was shocked when Skinner included his father.

	He realized he hadn't been to his father's grave site yet.  But with 
everything the last few days...  He berated himself for the excuses and made 
up his mind to go tomorrow.  He was not happy about the prospect, but he had 
to do it.

	They went back to their office and sat down to work.  Mulder scowled 
when Scully reminded him that files were off limits until the paperwork was 
finished.  He reluctantly acknowledged the fact that he wouldn't finish his 
paperwork if he could work on some of the files and agreed to get started on 
the mess right then.

	They were halfway through their piles when Mulder's stomach reminded 
him they hadn't eaten all day.  He looked across the room at Scully and saw 
how tired she seemed.  Maybe he could talk her into staying one more night 
with him and he would help her take care of the rest of her apartment 
tomorrow.

	"Scully, are you hungry yet?"

	She looked up, shocked that the silence had been broken.  "What?"

	"Food?"

	"Sure, we can finish this later," she said and started shoving papers 
into her briefcase.  Mulder did the same with a sigh of relief.

	Mulder avoided the question of whose apartment they would finish the 
paperwork at by asking what she wanted to eat.  Not really in the mood for 
anything, she let him decide.  She knew his decision was based on her tastes 
when he pulled into the parking lot of a small restaurant instead of his usual 
choice of gourmet junkfood.

	Mulder watched as she picked at the food instead of eating it.  He 
refrained from his normal barrage of jokes and innuendos during the meal.  He 
didn't want to depress himself more by seeing her try to smile at them and not 
mean it.  Occasionally she would look up and meet his eyes.  At those times 
she would actually take a bite of the pasta in front of her.

	The time came when the meal was over and it was necessary to leave.  
They stood up and walked out to the car.  Mulder was getting ready to say his 
first joke of the evening, but Scully beat him to it.

	"Your place or mine?"

	"Why, Scully, I didn't know you cared."  The fact that she suggested 
his place told him she wasn't ready to face her apartment yet.  "Mine's 
closer."  It wasn't a lie, but then he would have to drive her home later.  He 
wasn't going to point that out, though.

	She knew she was still avoiding her home.  But she couldn't go there 
just yet.  She told herself she only needed a few more hours of paperwork and 
then she would be ready.  She knew she was lying to herself when she grabbed 
her bag out of Mulder's trunk.  She tried to rationalize that she only wanted 
to change clothes and be comfortable.  And it worked to some extent.  

	After changing, she sat on the floor and took over the coffee table, 
while Mulder used his desktop.  CNN was the selected background noise and she 
agreed to the beer he offered.  She finished her paperwork long before Mulder 
did.  But then again, she hadn't found something to distract her every few 
minutes.  She flipped channels for awhile and found a nice worn spot on the 
couch as she settled for a Jimmy Stewart movie.

	Mulder was distracted a little later by the light snoring.  He looked 
over his shoulder at his partner asleep on his couch.  He grinned at the 
ammunition he now had.  A half a beer and she passed out.  She seemed quite 
comfortable so he left her there while he finished his forms.  When he signed 
the last piece of paper, he stretched his arms over his head and felt a 
satisfying pop in his back.  Mulder stood up and gently shook her shoulder.

	"Scully."  She didn't even open her eyes, but she did at least 
acknowledge him by making an ‘hmm' sound.  "Come on, Scully.  Why don't you go 
on my bed?"  He smiled at the disgruntled look on her face as she opened one 
eye.  She swung her feet to the floor and glared at the clock.

	"You just finished?"

	"Yeah."

	"Mulder."

	"It's done though, Scully.  Will you have pity on me because of the 
hour?"  His heart felt lighter as she smiled that special smile and went into 
the bathroom.  He retrieved his pillow and blanket from the closet and tossed 
it on the couch.  When he looked up, she was standing in the hall watching 
him.  She looked lost in the shadows.

	"Mulder, I have to go home tomorrow."

	"Sure, Scully.  But I'm," he quickly discarded the slang phrase and 
just said, "tired."

	"Goodnight, Mulder."

	He nodded and reached for the remote.  "Scully?" he called as she 
opened  the door to the other  room.  "Can I ask a favor?"

	"Anything, Mulder," she promised.

	"I haven't... Will you... My father, Scully," he finally managed.

	She understood what he was asking and nodded.  "Sure, Mulder."  She 
wanted to kiss his cheek but stomped down on the urge.  With the way they were 
both feeling right then, she wasn't sure how something like that would effect 
them.  "Goodnight, Mulder," she repeated and closed the door behind her.

	"Goodnight, Scully," he said to the door.

	She stared up at the ceiling again as sleep eluded her.  She had tried 
looking at the wall for a change in scenery, but the ceiling had some 
undefinable attractive quality.  She wondered how comfortable the living room 
floor was and went to find out.

	Mulder heard her open the door and walk towards the front room.  The 
angle the couch was at prevented him from seeing around the corner and into 
the shadows.  When she took the last few steps, his heart twisted.  She would 
kill him if he ever told her how young and lost she looked right then.  His 
shoulder twinged with the fresh wound in remembrance of her ability to do just 
that.  "Just in time.  A Mel Gibson movie is about to start."

	"Mulder, I know how much you don't like his films."

	"Yeah, but Rene Russo is hot.  Do you ever find women who carry guns, 
kick ass, and can take care of themselves attractive, Scully?"  He swung his 
legs to the floor to make room for her next to him.

	She debated for only a second before she sat down.  "I never really 
paid any attention.  But I do have this thing for men that are off the wall, 
on the verge of being psychotic, and always seemed to end up injured."

	He smiled and tried to find a comfortable spot.  Scully had drifted 
off almost immediately and was using his shoulder as her pillow.  He knew he 
would get in trouble for it later, but he shifted so that his arm was around 
her and they could lie back on the couch.  Mulder held his breath as Scully 
mumbled at the change but she didn't wake up.  He was amused by the scene 
where two of the leads compared scars.  He would win hands down if he and 
Scully did that.  He was a bit uncomfortable with what the comparisons led to. 
The scene was tame compared to what he normally watched, but then Scully 
wasn't in his arms during those movies either.

	He started reflecting on that and then stopped.  He always tried to 
avoid analyzing his emotions.  That got him into more trouble than chasing 
after little grey men.  But he couldn't help it.  What he felt for his partner 
was a lot of everything.  He was sometimes her older brother, her younger 
brother, her teacher, her student, her friend, her ... He stopped the last 
word before it took form in his mind.  They were close and they accepted that 
closeness.  Suffice it to say, they were partners.  With that reassurance, he 
fell asleep.

	She had been awake for awhile and still couldn't find a way to 
disentangle herself from Mulder's embrace.  She was definitely going to stay 
at her own place tonight.  She liked the feeling of peace she had experienced 
the last two mornings way too much for her to risk staying at his apartment 
again.  She couldn't allow herself to depend on him in this way.  It wouldn't 
be good for their working relationship.  If they ever allowed things to go 
beyond friendship, she knew they could be discreet enough for the Bureau's 
sake.  But she wasn't sure about the other factors that watched them.  She had 
been used against him twice before and she still couldn't believe the choice 
he had made.  At the time, they both thought the clone had been Samantha, or 
at least human.  That Mulder had even considered the trade still bothered and 
touched her in ways she didn't want to think about.

	The feeling of peace dissolved abruptly as she tried not to think 
about her and Mulder.  One thought led to another and she was suddenly 
remembering why she was even in his arms.  With a heavy heart, she resigned 
herself to starting the unpleasant day ahead of them.  They could drop the 
paperwork by the Bureau before they headed up to Boston.  And then to her 
apartment.

	Mulder wondered how long she was going to pretend to still be asleep 
when she carefully tried to sit up.  There wasn't going to be an easy way to 
get off the couch for either of them, so they dealt with the awkwardness of 
standing up.

	They stared at each other for a moment, before Scully said, "You want 
to take your shower first?  I'll make us some breakfast."

	"With what, Scully?  You know the only food I have is seeds."

	"Coffee and toast?"

	"Sounds divine.  I'll hurry," he promised and disappeared into the 
bathroom.

	They went to the office, dropped off the paperwork, and left before 
they were called into Skinner's office.  Mulder did manage to appropriate a 
few files before they left.  They had decided to drive to Boston and this 
would help keep them occupied.

	Scully led the way to the headstone.  When they reached it, she 
stepped back, trying not to intrude.  His shoulders started to shake, and she 
couldn't take it.  She placed her hand on his back.

	Mulder felt her light touch and tried to take a deep breath.  It 
didn't help.  "I don't know if he ever really loved me, Scully."

	"He was your father, Mulder."

	He didn't know how to explain to her that phrase hadn't meant the same 
thing to Bill Mulder as it had to Bill Scully.  He didn't want to explain.  
Captain Scully would have moved heaven and hell for his children.  His father 
had made a bargain with the devil and willingly paid the price.

	After his sister's abduction, Mulder had felt invisible when it came 
to his father.  The only time he had been acknowledged was when he did 
something wrong, or at least not completely right.  His father had never 
mention his grades, his baseball, his scholarships, or any of his other 
achievements unless it was to criticize them.

	"Fox, you cost the team a hit when you missed that relay to second."

	"An A-, Fox?  Why isn't this an A+?"

	"Only room and board?  Why isn't this a full-ride?  You'll have to get 
a job then if you want to go to college."

	"The FBI?  You could do better if you only try harder, Fox."

	It always came back to that, if he had tried harder.  If he had tried 
harder, they wouldn't have been able to take his sister.

* * * to be continued with two different versions.  One of them is NC17* * *


===========================================================================

From: mason@umr.edu (Niki)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: New: Grief and Consequences (2/2) NC17
Date: 28 Feb 1996 00:22:26 GMT


To see all the babbling and legal stuff again, go look at the first part.

Warning: description of sexual activities.

Grief and Consequences (2/2) NC17
	By
	Nicole Mason
		mason@umr.edu


	The new information he had about his father didn't ease the old pain. 
 It may have even added to it.  Because of him, Bill Mulder's past had 
destroyed him.  His father had been sorry and was trying to atone for his 
mistakes.  It was Mulder's enemies that had killed his father.  If he had been 
more coherent, he would have been able to stop Krycek.  He would have been 
able to protect Scully and by doing that, protect Melissa.  Mulder felt the 
presence of all the deaths he was responsible for weigh him down so that his 
knees almost buckled.

	Scully knew he was blaming himself, but she had no idea how to 
convince him it wasn't his fault.  Bill Mulder had made his choices long 
before her partner was even part of the tangled mess.  She grasped his hand 
and tried to lend her support as he had done for her.  She was taken by 
surprise when Mulder pulled her to him and buried his face in her hair.  She 
curved her arms around his shoulders under the trenchcoat and felt his wrap 
around her as well.  She couldn't tell if he was crying or not, but that 
really didn't matter.  She only hoped she was helping him as much as he had 
helped her the past few days.

	Mulder held tight to the woman who had pulled him back from the edge 
too many times to count.  And here she was doing it again.  He terrified 
himself with how dark his thoughts could be sometimes.  But even with all of 
the darkness surrounding him, he hadn't given in to it.  He hadn't let it 
defeat him.  He loosened his hold on his partner and raised his head.  He 
smoothed down the hair he had messed up and noticed some of the strands were a 
little damp.  Feeling like a teenager, he took a step back and tried to smile.

	Scully could see the effort he put into moving his facial muscles.  
"Mulder?"  Her hands had moved from his shoulders to his waist, but she still 
had a firm grip on him.

	He nodded and trailed his fingers down her cheek.  He took a deep, 
shaky breath and nodded.  "I'm OK, Scully."

	She didn't believe he was OK, but he was better.  "Are you ready to 
head back?"

	He nodded again and they stepped away from each other.  As they walked 
back to the car, they both refrained from touching like they wanted to.  They 
each settled for the occasional brushing of their coats.  It was usually the 
only contact they allowed themselves and it always served to remind them that 
the other was nearby.

	As they neared Scully's apartment, the tension in the car could almost 
be tasted.  Scully was worried what her reaction would be to the blood and 
general mess of a crime scene in her home, and Mulder was worried Scully would 
be mad because he had called a clean up crew.  Only a faint outline was left 
and could easily be mistaken for a spilled drink.

	Her hands were visibly shaking as she tried to put her key into the 
lock.  Mulder prepared to face the piper.  He covered her hand and said, 
"Scully, I have to tell you something."

	She was relieved at the delay.  "Yes?"

	"I had someone clean your apartment."

	She was grateful and annoyed.  The annoyance only lasted for a second. 
 He wasn't treating her like a child that couldn't handle things.  He was 
treating her like a friend he had been worried about.  She felt a burning 
sensation in her eyes and blinked a few times to keep the tears at bay.  She 
didn't trust her voice, so she just nodded.

	Mulder let the breath out he had been holding.  She wasn't angry, just 
annoyed, and just for a second.  He could deal with annoyed.  In fact, annoyed 
might even get her into an arguing mood and they could work on two of the 
files he had in his briefcase.

	Scully quickly unlocked the door and stepped through, hitting the 
light switch on the way.   With the mess already cleaned up, it took her a 
second to see the stain.  Her imagination filled in the details.  "Oh, Missy."

	Mulder didn't hear what she said, but he could guess.  Her bag fell 
from nerveless fingers and Mulder pulled her to him.  She twisted his shirt in 
her fingers and dug her forehead into his neck.  He managed to get the door 
closed and tried to walk them to the couch.  She wasn't cooperating and he 
bent to pick her up.  His shoulder screamed, but he ignored it and walked the 
few feet.  Her whole body was shaking and he couldn't tell if she was even 
breathing.

	"Mulder, it should have been me.  Oh, God, it should have been me."

	He wanted to argue.  If it had been her, he would be in the plot next 
to her soon after.  He knew Melissa's death was his fault, but he was glad 
Scully was here in his arms and not in the ground.  He knew it was normal and 
natural to feel that way, but it didn't help alleviate the guilt.  Maybe he 
had been Catholic in a different life.

	These tears weren't like the other ones.  They were deep wrenching 
sobs that shook both of them.  This time he did rock them back and forth and 
whispered incoherent words into her hair.  He tried to reassure her that it 
wasn't her fault.  He didn't verbally argue that it was his, because that 
would only get her worried about him, too.  He didn't want that.  Her tears 
lessened and he slowed the rocking down.

	He watched closely as she peered at him.  "It's a good thing you're 
wearing your trenchcoat."

	His lips twitched at her attempt to joke.  "I never leave home without 
it," he agreed.

	"Mulder, -"

	"It's OK, Scully."

	She nodded at the intensity in his eyes.  She didn't have the will or 
energy to do anything but stay right where she was.  She placed her head back 
on his shoulder and stared at the fabric of his coat.  Mulder had stopped 
rocking her, but his hands kept up a soothing motion on her back.  She would 
deal with the consequences later, she needed his strength now and he was 
offering it.

	An eternity later, she recovered enough to at least try to move.  She 
lifted her head and followed the curves and lines of his face with her eyes.  
His eyes were a reflection of her own pain.  She didn't want that.  He had 
enough of it without her contributions.

	"Thank you, Mulder."  She allowed herself to brush his lips with hers. 
 Two friends sharing their grief, she told herself.  It would be her only 
chance to experience this and she unconsciously took advantage of it.

	Mulder wasn't surprised at the salty taste of her lips, but he was 
surprised at the lingering contact.  He wondered why she didn't pull away and 
realized that she had started to and he had followed her.  They both pulled 
back and watched each other closely.

	It was hard to decipher the swirling emotions he saw in her eyes.  But 
he did see her need and it mirrored his own.  With that realization, he leaned 
forward the few inches and discovered the taste under the salt of her tears.

	For once in the past few weeks, her thoughts were clear.  Everything 
that had passed became focused and she knew what was going to happen.  Her joy 
at knowing he was still alive came forward and she let him know it as the kiss 
slowly deepened.  She didn't know what she would have done if he hadn't come 
back.  She knew she would have gone on, but her life would have been 
completely empty.

	Mulder slowly learned the shape and feel of her lips with his.  When 
he thought he had all of the textures correct, there was something new to 
discover.  He made the decision to let her lead in this.  He didn't want her 
to have any regrets.  He was glad he believed in extreme possibilities because 
what they were doing was one he had dreamed about.

	Scully felt treasured and cherished and loved.  She marveled at all of 
the feelings the few, almost chaste, kisses they were sharing generated.  She 
moved to stand up and saw the disappointment that he tried to hide.  She 
leaned down to kiss him once again and slowly took her coat off.

	Mulder's hands clenched at the look in her eyes.  He searched for any 
signs of uncertainty and saw none.  He extended his hand as she held out hers. 
 He stood up at her urging and she moved her hands to his shoulders and pushed 
the coat off of him.  When his hands were free again, he raised them to her 
face and lowered his lips to hers.

	She tiptoed into the contact and looped her arms around his neck.  She 
gasped at the slow introduction of his tongue into her mouth.  They explored 
each other as the heat built.  Her neck and calves started straining after a 
prolonged contact and she had to step back.

	Mulder didn't know why she pulled away.  "Scully?"

	"You can call me Dana."

	"OK." He grinned at the exasperated tone in her voice. "Dana?"

	She knew what he was asking and nodded.  She took his hand in hers and 
turned to walk to her bedroom.  There was a slightly awkward moment as they 
faced each other.  She reached up to unknot his tie and he let out a sigh of 
pleasure, anticipation and relief.  He bent his head and wrapped his arms 
around her.

	This time their mouths met with an urgency neither was quite prepared 
for.  They fought with the buttons and buckles on their clothing and quickly 
revealed each other.  She saw the recent bullet wound and paused as she looked 
at it closely.

	Mulder was worried she had changed her mind, but the gentle kiss she 
placed near his latest scar reassured him.  He unhooked her bra and palmed the 
flesh he revealed.  Her fingers twisted in his hair as he bent and lowered his 
mouth to her breasts.  Her skin was flushed with desire and her breathing was 
growing choppy.  He moaned as she cupped him through his boxers.

	Dana measured the length and hardness of him.  There were so many 
things she wanted to do, but she couldn't collect enough of her scattered 
thoughts to decide which one should come first.  She decided on pushing the 
loosened pants and boxers off his hips.  He broke away to kick them and his 
shoes and socks off.  He reached for the waistband of her slacks and quickly 
divested her of her remaining clothing.  

	Mulder sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled her to stand between 
his spread legs.  He groaned as she nestled her body against his and their 
mouths met once more.  His hands cupped her hips and slowly moved her against 
him.  She gasped into his mouth as the sparse hair on his chest teased her 
erect nipples and his heat was trapped between their bodies.

	Somehow they twisted so that she was lying on the bed with him looming 
half over her.  She could feel the strength of his arousal as it pressed into 
the side of her hip.  She reached to take him into her hand and he moved out 
of the way.  He used one hand to move her legs apart and she gladly followed 
the gentle suggestion.

	She felt his fingers tangling in the dampness and arched her hips to 
increase the sensation.  His mouth was moving from hers, down her throat, 
across her breasts, and down her stomach.  He moved off the bed and knelt on 
the floor as his lips trailed a path along her thighs.  Her fingers twisted 
into the covers and she cried out at the feel of his tongue on her swollen 
flesh.  

	Emotions swirled and overwhelmed her.  She felt incredibly beautiful 
and loved and alive.  The last emotion brought with it a memory.  She 
shouldn't be feeling this wonderful.  But she was with Mulder and she did feel 
that way.  

	She grasped his shoulders as he moved over her once again.  She could 
feel the tension in his body and knew she was the cause.  He adjusted his hips 
and she watched his eyes.  The grief was gone and in its place was something 
she didn't recognize.

	"We can't do this, Mulder," she said in a strangled voice.

	"Yes."  He lowered his head and his tongue lightly followed the curve 
of her ear.

	She arched her neck to give him better access and repeated, "We 
can't."  Her hands rested on his shoulders neither pulling him to her nor 
pushing him away.  He made a noncommittal sound and cupped her buttocks, 
aligning their bodies.

	At the feel of his erection being nestled by her body, she gasped and 
pushed him away forcefully.  He fell to the side and stared at her as she sat 
up.  He ran a shaking hand through his hair.  "Condom?"  He was lucky he could 
manage even that one word.  He didn't believe how stupid they had almost been.

	"No."

	Mulder's heart dropped into his stomach as she stood up and pulled a 
robe from the closet.  "Scully?"  When she didn't answer or turn around, he 
said, "Dana?"

	She just shook her head and walked into the other room.  Mulder fell 
back on the bed and tried to calm his body.  It took awhile, but he finally 
managed enough coherency to stand up and pull on his pants.  He walked into 
the front room where his partner was sitting in a chair and staring at the 
floor by the door.  

	He understood now.  That hadn't been the real Dana a few minutes ago. 
 That woman had been reacting to death in a normal fashion.  He supposed his 
reaction had been based on the recent events as well, but he also knew that he 
had loved her for a very long time.  He knelt in front of her, blocking the 
scene she had been mesmerized by.

	"Scully."

	"I'm sorry, Mulder.  I don't know what..."

	"It's OK, Scully."  His body was screaming that it wasn't OK, but he 
had controlled his body when it came to his partner for almost two years.  He 
could continue to do so.  He repeated the phrase when she raised a skeptical 
brow.  "It is OK, Scully."  There was a moment of silence as they stared at 
each other.

	"Do you want me to leave?"  She slowly shook her head.  "Do you want 
something to eat?"  She thought about that and slowly nodded.  He stood up and 
went into the kitchen.

	Dana stared after him, overwhelmed by her love for him.  Why had she 
stopped them?  Because now wasn't the time for them.  Their first time 
shouldn't be surrounded by darkness.  At that moment as he puttered around in 
her kitchen, she also realized the extent of his love for her.  Only a man in 
love wouldn't be angry about things being halted at that stage.

	They were going to have to forget this ever happened.  She didn't know 
if talking about it would help or make matters worse.  So she decided to 
follow his lead.

	Mulder brought a plate of sandwiches into the living room and set it 
on the table.  With a small smile, but without a word, he went into her 
bedroom and retrieved the rest of his clothes.  He stared at the bed with a 
large amount of yearning and thwarted desire.  Someday, he told himself.  When 
they were both ready for it.

	Scully was in the bathroom when he emerged from the bedroom.  He sat 
down on the couch and turned on the TV.  He patted the seat next to him when 
she returned wearing sweats.  She looked at the spot dubiously but ended up 
sitting there.  They watched the TV in silence and Scully grew impatient.

	"Mulder -"

	He held up a hand to stop her.  "We're fine, Scully.  We didn't cross 
any lines."  Images flashed in his mind, refuting that statement.

	Her body and heart screamed in protest as she nodded her head.  She 
looked at his hands, afraid to meet his gaze.

	Mulder reached over and cupped her chin.  When he could finally she 
her eyes, his heart leapt at the possibilities he saw.  We didn't cross those 
lines tonight, but someday, Scully, he said mentally. 

	She saw the promise in his eyes and felt a large measure of relief.  
She nodded at his unspoken words.

	They went back to their meal and even worked on a few of the files.  
Mulder went home a little after 11:00.  There was a chaste kiss to her 
forehead and then he was gone.  Life continued as usual for quite some time.  
Scully ended up deciding not to move because she saw it as a weakness and on 
some perverse level she wanted the reminder every time she came home.  

	The memories of what almost happened hit her at odd times.  And when 
Clyde Bruckman had implied Mulder would die by autoerotic asphyxiation, she 
had almost lost control of the car.  When she found out he was talking about 
himself, her relief was near equal to her sorrow.  She found herself watching 
Mulder and if he watched other women.  She felt possessive of him now in a way 
she tried to hide.  But she was more worried than usual that he would pull one 
of his disappearing acts.

	She couldn't talk to him about her fear because he was acting as if 
*nothing* had happened.  She didn't catch him watching her and he stopped 
spending some of what little free time he had with her.  She tried to tell 
herself that he was trying to keep things normal between them, but it didn't 
ring true sometimes.

	And then there had been the Lucy Householder case.  She had been 
trying so hard not to see any similarities between herself and the woman that 
she had shut Mulder out.  And he had reacted badly.  He had seen the 
distancing of her feelings and thought that he was included in the distancing. 
 And when she had come with the men who were going to arrest Lucy...  She had 
tried not to be included in the ride to the halfway house, but there hadn't 
been a graceful way to extract herself.

	Time and silent discussions led to another truce.  But it was 
shattered all because of a video tape he paid $29.95 for.  She had been 
dealing with women who knew her that she didn't know and the implications of 
the chip from her neck. And then he had excluded her.  He had taken off 
without her and gotten onto that train that he had almost died in.  He didn't 
want to believe her when it came to her explanation for events and that had 
caused a major rift.  One that was only compounded with Kevin and the 
stigmata.  Here she finally sees something extreme *and* she believes and 
Mulder derides her beliefs.  "If God had a face, what would it look like?  And 
would you want to see, if seeing meant that you would have to believe..."  Was 
he afraid to believe in something so... ordinary?  Everything had an 
explanation on this earth, except for some aspects of religion.  He could 
believe, but he couldn't have faith?

	They had talked about those events, but both had been a little 
uncomfortable with the discussion.  They had tried to make concessions for 
each others' beliefs without giving up too much of their own.  She couldn't 
hold his skepticism against him.  After all, she rarely saw things in the same 
light he did.  But she realized how much she had hurt him with her attitude 
when he adopted the same one about Kevin.  She didn't know how to apologize 
for it.  And she knew that sooner or later it would creep out again, because 
she couldn't easily change something that fundamental .  The only thing she 
could do about her skepticism was try and tone it down or at least make sure 
her remarks weren't cutting.

	They were almost completely comfortable again with each other and were 
once more teasing each other verbally when Mulder had driven to Massachusetts. 
 She still cringed when she heard him say *Bambi* in her head.  But what was 
worse was her reaction.  She had almost been consumed with alternating worry 
and jealousy.  The PMS hadn't helped, but she couldn't blame everything on it. 
 It did help explain some things, though,  like her attitude at the 
convenience store and the thing with her gun.  Freud would've had a field day 
with that little episode.

	They had almost destroyed each other during the *cosmic disalignment*. 
 What a crock of shit.  That excuse for their behavior was cheesier than her 
PMS one.  And Mulder believed it.  He chose to think that all of their 
bickering and cruel words hadn't been what they were really feeling on some 
level.  It was a wonderful excuse, but she could still see and hear things 
from then.  Like Detective White sitting astride Mulder.  That image would not 
leave her.  And she was shocked at how much it still hurt.

	And before they had gotten completely over those events, Mulder had 
almost lost his mind on a case.  She preferred chasing little grey men to 
human serial killers.  He always put too much of himself into his profiling.  
She was grateful sometimes of his obsession with the paranormal, just so he 
wouldn't have to do those things. He was too good at it.   She was still a 
little upset that he kept one of the drawings, but she understood.  After all, 
she had decided not to move because she wanted the reminder as well as the 
memory.

	Recently she had begun to think about requesting a transfer.  She had 
no idea how Mulder would react to that but it was irrelevant because she 
didn't really want one.  It was only a fleeting idea of a possible way to fix 
things between them.  But finding her sister's killer had helped bind them 
with another link.  She couldn't help thinking that if she had let Mulder 
kill, or at least shoot Krycek in April, her sister would still be alive.  She 
tried not to think about the What If's regarding the past.  Doing that could 
drive a person crazy.

	There were still some things that hadn't been worked out.  And the 
most unsettling of all was the jealous fit he had thrown the other day.  She 
was still confused about that one and how he came to that conclusion.  She 
admired Skinner, but he was her boss.  If she every developed any feelings for 
Skinner, which was unlikely, he would be more off limits than the man she 
loved, her partner.

	Her partner.  They needed to have another talk.  And trying to corner 
him on any subject, even relating to work, was going to be difficult.

		* * * * *

	Mulder was nervous.  Really nervous.  Scully wanted to talk with him. 
 He could kick himself for that little scene.  He was jealous of Skinner.  
Skinner.  If Scully wouldn't become involved with her partner, she sure as 
hell wouldn't have a relationship with her boss.  He wanted to bang his head 
against the wall at his stupidity.

	He didn't understand some of his actions recently.  OK, he did.  But 
he was an adult; he could handle it.  Blue balls had not been responsible for 
the death of a man yet.  Yeah.  Right.  Well, not literally.  He knew he was 
in real trouble when cold showers started failing, and it was time to break 
out the cold trout.

	To control his hormones, he had tried to distance himself from her 
emotionally as well.  That had worked only too well.  There were small things 
missing from their relationship, something he couldn't quite define.  He 
couldn't blame all of it on sexual frustration.  There was also the 
frustration of having an investigation come to a standstill.  There had been 
no clues leading to the capture of Missy's killer, let alone a conviction.  
They couldn't find any evidence concerning the boxcar and they had no idea 
what Krycek had done with the tape, after he stole it from Skinner.

	Then when they finally did get a lead, Scully dropped a bombshell 
about the implants.  He had been taken completely by surprise.  The thought of 
losing her again had shut him down.  He knew Scully had seen his withdrawal, 
but she hadn't understood it.  And he couldn't explain without telling her 
everything.  He wasn't ready for that yet.  She must have understood some of 
what he was going through, because they would talk.  Not as often as before 
and not on the subjects he wanted, but it was talking.  

	Although, it seemed every time they were almost on track, he did 
something that took them back to the beginning.  OK, the incident with the 
entomologist had been a mistake.  He thought that maybe if he dated someone, 
anyone, else, he could forget about Scully.  Like that was possible.  He was 
with her more than he was by himself.  Lately he had been trying to spend less 
time with her and think some things through.  He knew now that he wouldn't be 
able to force her or what had almost happened from his mind.

	The thing with Bambi had been bad enough.  But soon after that had 
come the fiasco in New Hampshire.  He could still see her reaction to the 
scene with Detective White.  That's when he realized things were really out of 
hand and that there had to be an outside explanation.  He hadn't meant the 
hateful words, and he never would have said those things otherwise.  Scully 
didn't believe his theory, but that was nothing new.  He almost always looked 
forward to her arguments.  They helped keep him grounded and they kept him on 
his toes.

	He tried to calm down.  He also tried to reassure himself.  They had 
worked their way through rough spots before.  Some part of him screamed that 
he had never accused her of making the moves on their boss before either.  
Being a spy? Yes, but she understood those reasons and circumstances.  But 
sleeping with the boss?  No.  He could still picture the look Skinner and 
Scully had shared when he had finally been able to visit.  The look could have 
been misinterpreted, but she had touched Skinner's arm.  

	Those thoughts weren't helping.  He had to focus on something else.  
If he wasn't thinking clearly, he could say something that would only make 
things worse.  And no matter what, he knew he couldn't lose her.

	He heard the knock at the door and shook himself out of his dark 
thoughts.

	He would have to lay a lot on the table in the next few moments.  He 
would also have to watch how much he revealed about his feelings for her.  
Until the right time came, she couldn't know the true extent of what he felt.

		* * * * *

	Scully wiped her hands on her jeans before she raised her fist to 
knock.  She had no idea how much she should tell him and still be able to keep 
her secret.  Taking her courage in hand and a deep breath, she smiled as he 
opened the door and let her in.

	They were awkwardly silent for several minutes.  Scully finally 
suggested, "Mulder, we need to start somewhere.  I..."  She chickened out at 
the last second and said, "I'm sorry."

	"You're right."  He paused and thought over what he could say.  "I 
guess I can start by apologizing, too.  I was wrong to blow up like that."

	She was distracted by the lost look on his face.  But she was still 
hurting, too. "Very wrong.  How could you think that, Mulder?  And to suggest 
I had turned against you?"

	"I wasn't thinking, Scully.  And when I saw you with him in the 
hospital..."

	"Well at least you waited until we were in the car.  Mulder, if you 
had done that in front of Skinner..."

	"I know.  Look, Scully."  He paused again as he searched for the 
words.  "I...It won't happen again."

	She stared at her hands as she debated on whether or not to say what 
she was thinking.  Mulder saw her small nod, as if she had made a decision.  
"Mulder, you know I care about you," she began, thinking what an 
understatement it was.

	"And I care about you, Scully.  You are the most important person in 
my life."

	"You too, Mulder, and that's why we have to get past this."  She took 
a deep breath and jumped feet first and eyes open.  "I have to tell you, I was 
jealous, too."

	He started to deny that he had been jealous, but he didn't.  He only 
nodded as the image of her face in that hotel room flashed again in his mind. 
 "Scully, I swear..."  He stopped as he realized he was about to reassure her 
of his fidelity.  He couldn't do that.  There were too many other implications 
with a statement like that.

	"What, Mulder?"

	"Nothing."

	"Mulder, please."

	He nodded, but she didn't see it.  She was still looking at her hands. 
 "It won't happen again."

	Her head shot up and she frantically searched his eyes.  They held 
their customary sadness and intensity, but the sincerity blazed through.  She 
couldn't say what she wanted to, so she said, "Me too, Mulder."

	He nodded once.  And then he smiled.

	Scully saw it and her own broke free.  He moved to sit beside her and 
covered her hands with one of his.  "Mulder?"

	"Not yet, Scully.  Not just yet."


* * end* *