Author's Note Like so many others who faithfully watch the remarkable "The X Files" every Friday night, I gradually became enchanted by the possibility of a deep, passionate attachment developing between Agents Mulder and Scully. Through some mysterious and fortuitous amalgam of writing and acting talent these two characters seemed to have taken on lives of their own in the imaginations of their enthusiastic fans. Like junkies, each week we eagerly squeeze every hint of sexual attraction from every episode in order to endlessly distill, analyze, savor and feed our conviction that something powerful is impelling them toward each other. No matter that the creators have emphatically declared , "it ain't going to happen'. WE know better. WE WANT TO BELIEVE, DAMMIT! What's wrong with us, for heaven's sake? Why do we care so much? Let me confess my own schizoid proclivities here. I agree. For the sake of the show, they shouldn't develop it into a full-blown affair because I think it would weaken the show. Where could it go if M & S openly became lovers? As it is, the sexual tension between them seems palpable and perfectly balanced. It's deliciously tantalizing, even thrilling at times. They have a near-perfect product here. It would be folly to tamper with success. I trust their instincts. However, having said that . . . Anderson, Carter, Duchovny, et al have created such attractive, intelligent, three-dimensional characters in Mulder and Scully, it's impossible for me not to imagine them acting on their feelings. O.K. We romantics can still have our cake and eat it, too. The show can maintain its integrity while we go underground. I've created a parallel reality where I can indulge my fantasies about these two. I found two excellent opportunities where we could jump off into that other reality -- at the end of "End Game" and "Irresistible". Both offer equally vulnerable circumstances for our heroes to do our bidding. In this case I elected to extend the action in "Irresistible" . After the FBI and police have carted Donnie Phaster out of the house, leaving Mulder and Scully alone in his mother's living room, I pick up the narrative there. Here we go. IRRESISTIBLE REDUX: Mulder Escourts Scully Home Fanfic by Marie Russell (Marie2441@aol.com) 26 February 1995 (recieved 2/28/95-Sci) Mulder's embrace tightened around Scully as she surrendered to her emotions, sobbing uncontrollably, her face buried against his shoulder. He realized that she needed this release and whispered soothing encouragement as he held her, until her tears began to subside. Finally she regained control and pulled back to look at him. Her face was bathed in tears, her lashes soaked. Mulder searched her face lovingly to reassure himself that she'd be all right. He wanted desperately to caress her bruised face, his own emotions raging. He produced a handkerchief and tenderly wiped her face. She submited to his ministrations silently. At last a small, tentative smile began to appear, brightening her face. She took his handkerchief and blotted her eyes. "Thank you," she said softly, almost shyly. "Let's go home", he whispered, leading her outside to the waiting car, his arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him as they walked, one arm around his waist. Neither remembered much about the three-hour flight home. From time to time Mulder reached over and gripped her hand. Scully dozed fitfully occasionally, her head resting softly against his shoulder. On the drive home from Dulles Airport Scully seemed to be in a fugue state. When the taxi stopped at her apartment building it was close to 2:00 A.M. Mulder carried her bag up to the porch. "Do you want me to come in?" he asked. "Yes," she smiled gratefully. Once inside her apartment memories of her recent horrific experience with Donnie Phaster come rushing in. The shocking depravity. Her terror, the nightmarish horror of being helplessly ensnared by such an inhuman and evil presence. She'd come that close to becoming another cold statistic. The thought of it made her flesh crawl. Scully shook her head as if to ward off the images assailing her. "I need a shower," she told him abruptly. "Would you mind? I won't be long." "Of course not," he reassured her. Mulder took off his topcoat and jacket, went into the kitchen and got out the milk and Quick to make hot chocolate for Scully. He dropped bread into the toaster in case she was able to eat something. Later, as he was taking the mug from the microwave, Scully appeared in the doorway, barefoot, wearing pajamas and a terry cloth robe. She looked so tiny and vulnerable he wanted to scoop her into his arms. Instead he handed her the drink. "How're you feeling?" he asked gently. "Better", she replied. They sat across from each other at the kitchen table. He watched her as she sipped her drink and cupped the warm mug between her hands. "Mulder, I. . . I don't want to be alone tonight. Do you think you could . . . would you . . ." her words trailed off as she searched his face for understanding. He sighed. He found her embarrassment endearing. He reached across the table and covered her hand with his own. "Scully, I'm here for you, you know that. I'll stay as long as you need me." When she'd finished her chocolate, they agreed the best thing for her now was to get a good night's rest. They could talk when she felt stronger, as he knew she would. It was a gratifying release for her to let him take charge now. She knew she could entrust her vulnerability to him this night. In the bedroom Mulder pulled the covers down for her as she slipped out of her robe and dropped it across the foot of the bed. He tucked her in once she'd settled among the pillows. When she patted the bed at her side he sat down, held her hand and studied her . She said nothing as he caressed her cheek and smoothed her hair from her forehead with the back of his fingers, slowly and hypnotically until her eyelids became heavy and finally closed. He watched her breathing slowly and evenly, hoping her rest would be undisturbed by ugly images of her encounter with Phaster. He tenderly kissed her fingers. Two hours later Scully woke up abruptly out of dreams of winged demons and Donnie Phaster pursuing her. She tried to focus in the dim light. She was disoriented and shaken. Slowly she became aware of familiar surroundings. She could just make out a sleeping Mulder, slouched in a chair he'd pulled near the bed, long legs extended to rest his feet there, his topcoat draped over his frame. His head was lolling back to one side, his mouth open. She could hear him breathing deeply. He didn't look very comfortable. She couldn't help smiling pityingly at his attempt to rest in that awkward position. And she felt a twinge of guilt for causing him to endure his discomfort. She realized he'd been as deprived of sleep since they'd been on this case as she. Scully sat up in bed, reached over to shake his foot gently. "Mulder," she called out softly. He didn't stir. "Mulder," she repeated, rocking his foot with greater emphasis. This time he sat upright quickly, trying to focus in the dim light. His eyes felt like cotton balls. "What's wrong? What's happened?" he asked, concerned. His adrenilin racing, his heart pounding. "Nothing," she assured him. She had settled back at the head of the bed. Now she held the bedding open to him and smiled. "Come here," she said softly. Mulder didn't wait for her to repeat her invitation. He stood up and stretched, his joints cracking loudly in the still room, his lower back aching. He padded over to her obediently and hesitated. At that moment, he had that tosseled little boy look she had come to adore. He sat on the bed and peeled off his socks. When he started to climb into bed she said, quietly, "Take your pants off." He stepped out of his trousers quickly and dropped them on the floor. Then he removed his tie and shirt and climbed into bed wearing only his t-shirt and briefs. They lay there facing each other for some moments in silence. "Would you like the doctor to rub your back?" she asked. "I would love it," he replied. Mulder rolled over and settled on his stomach, his head cradled in his arms, eyes closed. When he felt her hands massaging his lower back he groaned in deep appreciation. "Heaven, heaven," she heard him sigh as her fingers continued to stroke his aching muscles. Finally she lay back at his side. He turned and looked at her, all thoughts of sleep gone now. Scully reached over and touched his face, her fingertips trailed across his lips. She could feel his pulse racing as she grazed the side of his neck. "My heart is pounding," Mulder whispered in a husky voice. "I feel like every nerve in my skin is pulsating. Should any part of your body touch mine, I'm sure sparks would fly." "Sounds like an X-file," she smiled. "Spontaneous Human Combustion." They were silent for a long moment, just looking at each other. Finally she said, "I'm not afraid." Suddenly, she was in his arms. Mulder buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply the sweet, fragrant traces of her shower gel, the warmth of her skin, the cool veil of her hair caressing his face. He could feel her body heat through her silken pajamas, and it was intoxicating. He held and caressed her with such tenderness and reverence Scully closed her eyes tightly and issued a soft murmur. Her breath came warm and moist against his ear as she clung to him. "You feel so sweet and warm," he whispered wonderingly as he lavished a trail of kisses down the side of her neck, her throat. He undid the first button of her pajama top and kissed her breasts softly. Scully's own blood was racing now as she ran her fingers through his hair, urging him on. A fleeting memory of lyrics from a k. d. lang song unexpectedly flashed into Scully's consciousness. "I can exist being caught by your kiss Willingly Or grant you control of my body and soul Ask it and so it shall be." "Yes, yes," she thought. This was what she'd been yearning for ever since they'd been torn from each other, and forbidden to make contact, when the X-Files had been shut down. That had been a terrible time for both of them. Mulder's pain and despair was heartbreaking to witness. Scully had never felt so helpless. Each time they'd met surreptitiously and too briefly, she'd come away feeling frustrated, saddened and impotent. It was during that agonizing time she realized she was in love with him, and it frightened her. As hard as she'd fought against that realization, it would not be denied. She had never wanted to become a love-sick calf for any man. Her pride caused her to wince at the thought. She had no idea if he returned her feelings. That was what tortured her. If he did, he was doing a damn fine job of cloaking it. He was her partner, her trusted ally, and of necessity, even a coconspirator. But was that all there was? Once the X-Files had been reinstated, she vowed to bury her feelings. After all, they were together again, and that was good. Where was it written that in this life you get everything you want? Now she lay in his arms, her heart bulging with joy and affirmation. As the buttons of her top gave way and his mouth discovered newly liberated territory, she realized the incredible sweetness of complete and total surrender. He explored her body with hands, fingers and lips that were as light and soft as butterfly wings. Scully felt as if her whole being were humming under his touch. She issued a shuddering sigh as he paid tribute to her nakedness. When he finally found her mouth their kiss was long and deep, with all the pent up hunger and longing that had for too long been smoldering in denial and frustration and doubt. The first pale, wintry light filtering through the blinds found them buried deep in the snug cocoon of the bed. Blessed, peaceful sleep had engulfed them in its protective envelope. They lay on their sides, Scully tucked securely into Mulder's embrace, their body heat co- mingling with the rhythm of their heartbeats. This was the way it was meant to be. Through thirty-six blood- drenched journeys amid the horror and madness of the outer world, they had survived to finally arrive at this harbor, the island that was this room. This sweetest moment in their lives. They'd found salvation in each other's arms. However brief it might be, however uncertain the journey from this day forward, nothing evil or sullied would touch them here. End. Comments and reactions will be enthusiastically welcomed. Alternative reality can be very, very gratifying. We get what we want, while the status quo remains intact. :-) :-) :-) Marie 2441