9-96
From Saraid: Greetings and salutations. This is the first story
I've ever posted, although I wrote it about a year ago. I'm a
johnny-come-lately to the electronic revolution, okay? If you
like it I'd like to hear about, if you hate it I want to know,
and if you couldn't care less one way or the other, keep it to
yourself <g>. send comments to: matsu@wf.net I'm most interested
in emotional respones; how did it make you feel?

I've played a little fast&loose with the storyline, but you
should be able to place it in the timeline. This is the first
segment of my vision of M&S's future, and it's here in two parts.
Practically all relationship stuff. Some of you won't agree with
it. That's okay. Maybe as I post the other parts you'll
understand.

I should warn you here that I'm not a particularly cheerful
person and this isn't going to be a particularly cheerful series.
You want a quick happy ending, look elsewhere

details -- these characters actually belong to CC, etc, etc, etc,
but I really do care about them and sincerely hope that no one is
offended if I play with them for a while -- I promise they'll
have fun!  The rating on this piece is DEFINITELY R, and perhaps
NC-17, depending on your sensibilities. I haven't let my
fourteen-year-old daughter read it, so if you're under seventeen,
skip it.

Coming Down
                   
            Part#1
Respite

     Mulder staggered and Scully ducked under his arm, leading
him into the room.
     "You're sick, Mulder. You need to rest."
     "I gotta find them, Scully. They killed my father. I gotta
find them." a harsh, dry whisper.
     "We'll find them." she assured him, lying him on the bed. He
lay flat atop the covers, arms moving restlessly. "After you
rest, we'll find them."
     "Scully..." he whispered as she went out the door. She
stopped, turned back, saw that he had fallen asleep, one hand
stretched toward her. Going back, she tucked it in, and covered
him with an extra blanket.

     She took his temperature again. 102. It was still going up.
Mentally she debated waking him, trying to get him into the
shower to cool down, but there was no predicting his behavior
under the influence of the hallucinogenic/psychotic drugs that
had been fed into his system via his apartment water supply. He'd
attacked Skinner, possibly shot his own father. 
     No. She didn't believe that.
     But she didn't want to risk waking him.
     He tossed restlessly, free hand crawling blindly across the
bed, searching, always searching, for something.
     For the hundredth time she caught them, holding them for a
few minutes before tucking them up close to him, where they would
stay for a while before wandering again.

     The sedative wasn't working and she was afraid to give him
more. Not knowing what he had been exposed to, there was always
the chance of an adverse reaction to the combination.
     "Dad...Dad...I didn't do it, you gotta believe me,
Scully..." he was whispering again, that same fierce, desperate
tone she'd been listening to for hours.
     She leaned close, to speak into his ear.
     "I know, Mulder. I believe you. I know."
     Her words seemed to sooth him, but she was increasingly
worried. He was fighting the sedative too hard, these episodes of
rambling were becoming more frequent. He was sick. If he didn't
rest, he might not recover...
     Scully sat, and thought, watching him sleep.

     She saw the next episode coming. His head tossed and he
moaned softly, and his hands began twitching. Could they have
given him something addictive? Were these actually the throes of
withdrawal, or simply a side effect of his illness? She couldn't
be sure without tests, and she had neither the time nor the
equipment to run them.
     This time she caught his hands as they began their 
wandering. Holding them in hers, sitting beside him on the bed,
she was startled to see his eyes open, focusing dazedly on her.
     "The only one I can trust..." he whispered. "Scully, you're
the only one..."
     "You can trust me, Mulder." she leaned close to reassure
him. "You can."
     "The only one..." his hands lifted from her lap to cup her
face and she started, began to pull away, but recovered herself
and held still.
     "The only one..." he whispered again, and then he pulled her
down beside him and his mouth closed over hers.
     "Mulder!" she managed a muffled protest as his tongue
invaded her mouth. She could feel the heat of his fever rolling
off him in waves. 
     With an effort she pushed him away, backing up, sitting He
had her hands now and was holding them with a death-grip, curled
in a fetal position, his eyes closed again, whispering brokenly.
     "Dad...Dad...SAMANTHA!"
     The sudden shout shocked Scully into action. Deciding that
her physical presence might be enough to calm him, she lay beside
him, an arm across his chest. He sighed and shifted to snuggle
into her shoulder, his hands settling at his sides, sighing.
     "Scully...trust...no one...me..." the whisper trailed off
and he slept again.
     
     "What...Mulder?" Dana jerked herself awake, exhaustion had
driven her to doze. She'd been driving all day, trying to keep
Mulder calm in the car, finally stopped at a motel where she
barely managed to get him into the room before falling onto the
bed beside him. He lay there now, very still and she was suddenly
afraid.
     "Mulder. Mulder!" she leaned over his chest, was relieved to
see it rising slightly. Checking his pulse, she found it shallow
but regular.
     His temp was up to 104.4. He couldn't go much higher, was
risking convulsions now.
     She had to do something.
     Undressing him was awkward, but she managed. When he lay
almost naked on the bed she left the room long enough to get two
buckets of ice from the machine in the hall and dump them in the
tub that she filled with cold water.
     Soaking a hotel towel and wringing it out, she lay it on his
laboring chest. He mumbled and moaned and tried to roll away, but
she held him down by the shoulder and kept it there until it was
warm before replacing it with another. Soon he lapsed back into
sullen sleep.
     Her hands were red from the cold and cramped before she felt
she could safely stop. His temperature was down to 101, not good,
but much safer than it had been. Beyond exhaustion, she covered
him with the lightest of sheets, changed into sweats and a T-
shirt, and laid down beside him again, taking his restless hands 
into hers to quiet them, falling asleep listening to his 
breathing, easier now.

     "Scully..." she woke to his whisper, rolled to soothe him,
was surprised to see his eyes open and actually seeing her this
time, clear and calm.
     "Where are we?" it was a lucid question and she was
tremendously relieved. Reaching a hand to touch his forehead she
answered.
     "In a hotel. We're on our way to someone who can help." His
skin was again blistering hot, she didn't know how he could
possibly be alert. "How do you feel?"
     "I dreamed, Scully. I dreamed about my Dad. Is he dead,
Scully? Did I kill him?" His eyes bored into hers, and she saw
the shine of tears.
     "No, Mulder. You didn't kill him."
     "He's dead. Gone, just like Samantha..." his eyes closed and
tears slid from under the lids as he began to sob quietly.
     "Mulder." she stared. She had never seen him display such
emotion. What was she supposed to do? "Oh, Mulder." she sighed,
and scooted closer to him, to wrap her arms around his shaking
shoulders and stroke his hair. 
     He responded by clutching her close and his tears soaked the
front of her shirt.
     His sobs became more wrenching and disintegrated into gasps
as his lungs fought to draw air into the furnace his body had
become.
     "Mulder..." she whispered, worried. "Mulder...It will be
okay...we'll find the ones that did it...it'll be okay..." she
tried to sooth him, to calm him, but he was lost in a grief her
words couldn't reach. Her hands stroked his hair, his back,
pulled him closer to her. "Mulder...what can I do? How can I help
you?" she said in despair. Getting a hand under his chin, she
pulled his face up where she could see it, shocked at the pain
etched on it as he stared at her with wide, liquid eyes. "Let me
help you." she whispered.
     Slowly, his eyes staring into hers, he raised his head and
touched her lips with his. A feather-touch, light and unsure.
Scully was still. Then he groaned softly, and, closing his eyes,
pulled her mouth to his and kissed her hungrily. She wanted to
pull away, afraid of this, but there was a need, a desperation in
his touch that she couldn't deny.
     After long minutes he stopped, pulling back and half-sitting
enough to look at her, his eyes still filled with tears, his skin
still so hot, studying her face in a fevered haze.
     "Scully." he whispered, a statement, an acknowledgment of
who she was and her place in his life. When he lowered his mouth
to hers again she let him, didn't protest.

     It was hard to think. Although she had considered the
possibility of a relationship with him in the beginning, she had 
soon realized that there was no room in his life for one, besides
the damage it would have caused to their professional
relationship. They would have been reprimanded, separated,
perhaps sanctioned. But that initial attraction hadn't gone away,
it had just been sublimated, relegated to the corner of her heart
reserved for 'might-have-beens'.
     And now she was here. She was in his arms, and he needed
her. 
     With a sigh of her own she began to return his kiss. He
paused, but didn't draw away, didn't look at her, and that made
it easier. Putting her arms around him she let herself be
gathered up against him, like holding an electric blanket, so hot
she was afraid again, but then his hand was under her shirt and
he was pressing her down into the pillows and lowering himself
onto her.
     His mouth never released hers, his hand held hers close to
him, and he was so gentle. He went so long she was sure he would
pass out before he finished, but it soon became obvious that he
was waiting for her pleasure before he took his own, and it came
at last, softly, sneaking up on her, her tired body responding
with a delicious shudder. His climax was close after, and he lay
on top of her for many long minutes, until she was afraid he had
passed out, but then he raised himself to let her breathe, and
rolled them both to their sides to hold her against him, his face
buried in her neck.
     After a few minutes she felt wetness as he cried silently
into her hair, his pain diminished, but not vanquished. Crooning
wordlessly, she held him until he slipped into sodden sleep.
     She held him the rest of the night, dozing and sleeping near
dawn. When she woke he was still sleeping curled around her.
     She lifted his arm and slid from beneath it. He sighed and
turned over to lie flat on his back again, the way she had always
seen him sleep before.
     During a shower she mentally checked her calendar. She
hadn't had a serious relationship since Lt.Brody had been killed
and had given up birth control pills for the time being. But her
cycle had just ended, so there shouldn't be any danger of
complications from that direction.
     Back in the room she dressed him again. His fever was lower,
but he was still sick, too sick to be much help. It took her ten
minutes to walk him to the car and, once there, she had to check
his vitals again to be sure he was still okay.
     He slept the entire day in the back seat covered with a
purloined hotel blanket. When she stopped for gas and to check on
him he mumbled and turned over, but didn't wake.
     
     He didn't wake until the next morning, to find her sitting
beside him in a hotel. He was wearing his shorts and nothing
else.
     When he woke she held her breath briefly, but soon realized
that he didn't remember the previous two days at all.

     As he got up and got himself dressed she knew she couldn't 
stay around, so, when he asked, she told him she had to go back
and try to set things right with Skinner and the office and he
accepted that, although she was sure he suspected something was
wrong. But he didn't mention his father's death and she hoped he
knew now that she did believe him. 

     The rest of the day she spent trying to concentrate on
paperwork while her mind ran round the dilemma she found herself
with.
     There was nothing to gain from telling him, and a lot could
be hurt. Theirs was a very close, very successful relationship,
both as partners and as friends. Telling him would most likely
destroy that.

     She wouldn't tell him.

     Then he called and she could tell from his voice that he had
found something remarkable, wonderful, terrible...and then he was
cut off and she was left holding the phone, her breath coming
fast, fear filling her.


Part#2 - some months later
Fair's fair
    
     "Mulder. Skinner wants to see you. ASAP." The young agent
stuck his head in and was gone before Mulder could respond.
With a grimace Mulder gathered up what he was working on and
filed it away, leaving nothing for anyone to look at, just in
case. Glancing at his watch he realized that it was past ten.
Scully was late.
     He picked up the phone, dialed.
     No answer. Not even her machine.
     "She's probably taken the morning off." he told himself. But
it nagged him as he left the office. Why wasn't she answering the
cellular? Why hadn't she left her machine on?

     "Agent Mulder." Skinner opened the door as he aproached. It
was obvious he'd been waiting for him. Stepping into the room,
Mulder saw a woman he didn't recognize. Pretty in a cheap way,
well but not expensively dressed. There was no air of suspicion
to her. Not an agent, he decided. Skinner waved him to a seat and
went behind his desk. "This is Dr.Renee' Arboroun. She'd like to
talk to you for a few minutes."
     "What's this about?" his opening was blunt. "I've got a lot
to do today." the woman was studying him, he could feel it.
     "Dr.Arboroun is a clinical psychiatrist called in from
another office."
     "You think I'm crazy? What'd I do this time?" he was tense
now, defensive in a self-righteous way. Dr.Arboroun spoke up for
the first time.
     "Actually, this isn't about you." she said. "I've been
called in to profile your partner."
     "Scully?!" he was startled and it was too loud. Skinner
stared him down and he became still. "What do you think is wrong
with Scully?" 
     She opened her breifcase on her lap and pulled out a file,
opening it.
     "Your partner is Dana Katherine Scully?"
     "You know that." he was even more defensive now.
     "You do not call her by her first name?"
     "It would be unproffesional." Skinner was watching him, and
Mulder saw that he had something in his lap. "Excuse me, is this
being recorded?"
     "That depends on you, Agent Mulder. If you tell us anything
we feel is important enough to record we will start over on
tape." Dr.Arboroun said.
     "I can't tell you anything if I don't know what this is
about."
     "If you will just answer my questions I'm sure we can get to
that." she said evenly.
     Mulder didn't reply.
     "Has Agent Scully been demonstrating any abnormal behaviors
recently?"
     "No."
     "Has she become preoccupied or been unavailable when you
needed her?"
     "No."
     "Agent Mulder, where is Agent Scully now?" Skinner spoke
suddenly.
     "I don't know."
     "Doesn't she keep in touch when she's on a case?"
Dr.Arboroun asked as if Skinner hadn't spoken.
     "It depends. We often work independently on the same case."
     "And why is that?"
     Mulder frowned.
     "It's productive." he answered honestly. "We can't be
together all the time."
     "Would you like to be?" Skinner kicked in and Mulder
stared, blinked once.
     "Excuse me?"
     "Would you like to spend all of your time with Agent
Scully?" he asked insistently.
     "I'm not sure I understand the question." Mulder answered
slowly.
     "Agent Mulder." Dr.Arboroun said. "Do you have an active
social life?"
     "I don't see the relevance of the question." Mulder stood.
     "Sit down, Agent Mulder. This is an unofficial exploration,
but it will become official if you don't cooperate." Skinner said
sternly.
     Mulder hesitated a minute, then sat sullenly.
     "Exactly what are you exploring?" he asked.
     "Please answer the previous question." Skinner said.
     "How is it relevant?" Mulder asked stubbornly.
     "Answer the question." there was a very real threat in
Skinner's tone now.
     Mulder shrugged.
     "Could you repeat the question?"
     "Would you describe yourself as having an active social
life, Agent Mulder?" Dr.Arboroun said flatly.
     "No." he asnswered in the same tone.
     "Do you date?"
     "Seldom."
     "Do you engage the services of prostitutes?"
     "No." it was almost angry.
     "Are you a homosexual?"
     "Is this neccesary?" Mulder appealed to Skinner. "I don't
see what my love life, or lack of one, has to do with Scully."
     "You need to answer the question, Agent Mulder." Skinner
said.
     "No, I'm not gay. You're not even allowed to ask that. Why
would you think I was?"
     "How do you spend your free time?"
     "I don't have much."
     "You have scheduled days off like everyone else. What do you
do?"
     "I do research. I think about work."
     "Do you have any hobbies?"
     "I watch football." Skinner nodded at that. He did too.
     "Nothing else?"
     "No. I visit my mother. I read. I work out. I practice
target shooting."
     The doctor stopped and made a few notes in the file. Mulder
watched her suspiciously.
     "Now will you tell me what's going on?" 
     She didn't answer and Skinner was looking away.
     "I have a right to know." Mulder was getting angry again.
"I've played your little game, now you give me some answers!"
     "We have no answers, Agent Mulder, only questions. Do you
recognize this?"
     She held up a slip of paper.
     "No."
     "This is a credit card reciept that was charged to Agent
Scully's expense account. Items include several meals, and a
hotel room."
     "We stay in a lot of hotels."
     "This is dated September 15, 1995. Where were you that
night?"
     Mulder noddded as he began to understand.
     "Okay. That was one of the nights I was sick. Yes, we shared
a hotel room, but only because I was so out of it that Scully had
to take care of me."
     "What illness were you suffering from?"
     "I had been drugged."
     "Is there any proof of that?"
     "Agent Scully retrieved a filtering device from the water
system of my apartment. The water company said they had never
seen it before. I displayed unexplained psychotic behavior for
several days prior to that, which was later excused."
     Skinner rubbed his jaw in memory.
     "Agent Scully is also a medical doctor, is she not?"
     "She's a forensic pathologist. Her patients are usually
dead." he smiled a little at the joke.
     "Then you're lucky." Dr.Arboroun did not smile back. "You
have jeopardized cases in the past because of Agent Scully, have
you not?"
     "Neither I nor Agent Scully has ever knowingly jeopardized a
case."
     "You missed an opportunity to gain valuable information to
be at her bedside when she was ill, did you not?"
     "There was no guarantee I would have learned anyhting from
that informant." 
     "And you'll never know." she said.
     "Are we done now?" Mulder stood again.
     "Possibly." she answered. 
     "Are you going to tell me what this is about?"
     Skinner and the doctor trade glances and she nods slightly.
     "We have had reports of...unprofessional behavior between
Agent Scully and yourself."
     "What kind of...unprofessional behavior?" Mulder mimicked
his hesitation.
     "You are aware of the rules regarding personal relationships
between agents teamed as partners, Agent Mulder?"
     "You think we're having an affair?" Mulder practically
laughed in their faces.
     "There is some indication of that, yes." Dr.Arboroun
answered.
     "You're way off base." Mulder was smiling now. "I've never
even considered it. Scully's my partner, not my lover."
     "But you and Scully do have a close personal relationship?
So much so that you stayed in contact when your department was
shut down and you were moved to different divisions."
     "We're also friends. I trust her." Pause. "Only her."
     "Your paranoia has been well-documented, Agent Mulder. Which
only makes me more curious about why you would choose to trust
her. You know she was originally assigned to debunk your work."
     "That's the first time anyone has admitted it."
     "It only qualifies as a rumour." Skinner added quickly.
     "So why do you trust her, and no one else?"
     Mulder sat again, thinking.
     "Because she believes. She doesn't want to, but it's there.
She wants the truth."
     "The why isn't she at work today?"
     There was a brief silence.
     "I can't answer that." Mulder said at last.
     "I think we're finished here." Dr.Arboroun said. Mulder got
up, preparing to leave.  
     "This conversation was confidential, Agent Mulder." Skinner
said in a warning tone.
     "Are you ordering me not to discuss this with my partner,
Director Skiner?"
     "Your discretion would be...appreciated."
     "That's not an answer." Mulder said.
     "It's all the answer you're going to get." Skinner pointed.
"You know your way out." Mulder got to the door and Skinner spoke
again. "Agent Mulder. You are aware that your activities are
being monitored."
     "So what else is new." he said, and left.


And Later

     "Scully? Are you home?"
     It had been hard waiting until the office closed to check on
her. They weren't actually working on anything serious right now,
so he wasn't really worried about her. But still...
     He thumped his fist on the door again, bruising a knuckle on
the nameplate.
     "Scully! I need to talk to you."
     There was a scuffling sound and then the door opened wide
enough to let him in.
     "Mulder, you're attracting attention. What's wrong?"
     He stepped into the hallway and stopped when he saw her.
     Wearing a long robe, she looked like she'd just climbed out
of bed.
     "Why didn't you come to work today?" it was concerned but
still harsh.
     "I'm not feeling well. I think I've picked up a virus." she
said with a questioning glance before turning to lead him into
the living room. Her little dog hopped off the sofa as she
entered and scampered into the kitchen.
     "Why didn't you call me?" she sat on the couch but he
remained standing, walking to check that the drapes were drawn.
     "Why are you being so paranoid?" she said. "I meant to call,
but I fell asleep."
     "Are you really sick?" he dropped into a chair beside her
with an ungraceful slump.
     "Are you okay?" she studied him quizically. "Yeah. I've got
a bug, and I'll be fine. I've got plenty of sick time coming."
     He didn't reply, just glanced at the windows again.
     "Mulder, what's wrong?"
     "I got called to Skinner's office today." he shrugged. 
     "What's happened now?" she sighed. "Are they shutting us
down again?"
     "This wasn't about the X-files, Scully. This was about us."
     "Us? What do you mean, us?"
     "I was pretty much ordered not to tell you, but they're
crazy if they think I won't." he leaned toward her, a small smile
playing on his lips. "They think we're having an affair."
     He laughed lightly, not noticing when she caught her lip and
looked away.
     "Isn't that the craziest thing?" he said, then stopped
laughing as he looked at her. "Scully? What's wrong? I'm not
laughing at the idea, I mean, if we weren't partners..." he
paused and then continued, uncomfortable. "When we were shut
down, I thought then, maybe, but things got so weird and there
wasn't any time..."
     "I thought maybe, too, Mulder." she said. "But you're right;
there isn't any time in your life for a relationship. All of your
energy, all of your passion, you feed it all into your work.
There's nothing left for anyone else."
     He's quiet while she speaks, and then looks away for a few
minutes. She watches him.
     When he speaks again it's in a whisper. She leans closer to
hear him, and their faces are close.
     "If it was anyone, Scully..." he said it slowly, "it would
be you."
     "Ohh, Mulder." she sighed, pulling back a little. "You
shouldn't tell me that."
     "But I trust you, Scully."
     "And no one else. I know, Mulder." 
     "I've never told you that." he said.
     "Yes, you did." she said, her voice getting softer so he had
to strain to hear. "You don't remember it."
     "When I was sick." he made the connection. "Before
I...died."
     "When Melissa did die." she added.
     "It's funny." he said, sitting very still, hands dangling
from his legs. "Sometimes I dream about that time...I've dreamed
about you, Scully. About you, when I was sick and you were there
when I died...and you were there when I came back."
     "What do you dream, Mulder? What do you dream about me?"
     The room felt dark and close. Mulder shook his head and
broke the spell with an effort.
     "Telling you would probably be setting myself up for a
harrassment suit." he managed a short laugh, but she suddenly
reached over and took his hand in hers.
     He stared at the clasped hand, then raised his eyes to hers.
     "Scully." he said, and the inflection was questioning,
curious.
     "There's something I need to tell you." she whispered.
"Before anyone makes any more accusations."
     "Do you want me to tell you about my dream, Scully?" he
asked, and then, after a minute of her silence, he looked away,
his eyes going back to their clasped hands.
     "Do you already know about my dream, Scully?" it was a
shocked, harsh whisper and he held her eyes with his as he waited
for an answer.
     She tried to answer, she really did. But her mouth was
suddenly dry and her lips wouldn't move.
     His hand tightened convulsively around hers, but he waited
for her to speak.
     The minutes stretched as she nodded her head. Once, then
again.
     More silence.
     "How do you know?" it was said softly, he seemed surprised
to have said it.
     "Mulder, I..." she couldn't find the words.
     "Did I tell you about it, or did it actually happen?!" his
voice rose to a shout and she flinched from the betrayal in it.
He snatched his hand from hers and held it before his eyes,
studying it like he'd never seen it before. "Have I touched you
with these hands?"
     A long silent pause as he raised his other hand and stared
at them, alternating between them and her downcast eyes.
     "Have I held you in these arms?" his whisper wavered with
wonder.
     She pressed herself back into the sofa, her breathing rapid,
eyes wide, hands clenched in her lap as she struggled to answer
him.
     "Have I kissed you, Scully?!"
     He stood and leaned over her, an arm on either side of her
head, leaning in close as he whispered, hard and sharp, "Did I
make love to you?"
     She reached a hand tentatively, not quite touching his face.
He held firm, his eyes pinning her to the sofa.
     At last, hand still suspended in mid-air, she told him.
     "Yes, Mulder." she paused as his eyes widened, as he tried
to absorb her words. 
     "The second night on the road, in the hotel...you were so
sick and I was afraid you would die...I couldn't take you to a
hospital, they still thought you'd shot you're father and we had
the tape..."
     "So it was a pity fuck?" she flinched from the obscenity.
"You were so ashamed that you couldn't even tell me?"
     His words hung in the air between them, fouling it.
     She spoke at last, twisting her hands together.
     "Nooo." she sighed. "I wanted it too. That maybe has been
there since I met you." 
     His face cleared a little and he pushed himself back, away
from the sofa, still standing over her, hands on his hips now.
     "Why didn't you tell me? Were you afraid it would change
things?"
     "Of course I was!" now she raised her voice, hands grabbing
the blanket and crumpling it beside her. "How was I supposed to
bring it up? 'Good morning, Mulder, glad you're alive, oh, by
the way, we slept together last night?' It wasn't exactly easy to
work into a comversation."
     "You're angry." he said softly, understanding. "You're mad
because I didn't remember it."
     "It was for the best." she shrugged, but he could see the
hurt in her eyes. "Personally and professionally."
     "Tell me about it." he sat on the sofa beside her, a foot
seperating them. "I remember bits and pieces, but it's still like
a dream."
     He smiled suddenly, one of those quicksilver mood swings.
     "It wasn't a nightmare, was it?"
     "No." she said grudgingly. "It was...nice."
     "Not the most enthusiastic review I've ever gotten." 
     "You were deathly ill and I was exhausted." she retorted.
"What do you expect?"
     "How did it happen?" he leaned closer again and she found
herself relaxing in his presence.
     "You couldn't sleep. You kept talking and I tried to calm
you, but you just kept muttering and tossing..."
     "About my dad." 
     "You needed to rest. I would lay beside you and talk to you
and that seemed to help. You woke up a few times, really awake,
and you knew me and what had happened."
     She paused and he waited, encouraging her with his eyes.
     "Then you woke up and remembered everything. You cried so
hard...it was like your heart was being ripped out...I held
you...and you kissed me..."
     "I started it?"
     "I don't normally take advantage of drugged men in a fevered
haze." she said shortly.
     "So why didn't you leave?"
     "You were hurting. I thought it would help. And..." she
paused breifly, "...I wanted to."
     He was quiet for a minute, then grinned, a twisted, lopsided
grin. "Was I good?"
     "Mulder!" she was shocked, but, then, reluctantly, she
laughed. "Yeah. For a semi-conscious drugged man, you were pretty
good."
     He scooted closer on the sofa and slid an arm along the back
behind her.
     "I bet I could do better."
     "Mulder." she slid away, clutching her robe together. "This
isn't a good idea."
     "I think it's only fair, Scully. You had your way with me
when I was sick..." he followed her across the sofa until she was
in the corner of it and he could lean over her.
     "What about work? They'll crucify us..." she whispered as
his hands settled on hers, loosening the robe gently.
     "What they don't know won't hurt them..." he whispered.
Then, after a pause looking into her eyes, "I think you should
kiss me first."
     "We can't do this." she whispered in quiet desperation as he
closed his eyes and waited patiently.
     "Don't you want to?" he asked, opening his eyes and looking
at her. "I know I do. I want to touch you and feel it, I want to
hold you and remember it." another pause. "I want to look at you
and know you remember it."
     There were other words in his voice, important words that
floated and lingered in the air between them. Scully heard them
and Mulder knew he didn't have to say them - any more than she
did.
     "I don't know how we can..." she sighed. "It makes things so
complicated."
     "You've never liked them easy." he said softly, brushing a
kiss across her hair, one hand sliding up to caress her neck.
"Did I tell you that I dreamed of you, Scully? Before this
happened. I dreamed of you...what you would feel like, what you
would sound like...have you ever dreamed of me, Scully?" he
punctuated his words with soft kisses on her face and hair,
sighing as she closed her eyes and relaxed into the cushions.
     "Yes, Mulder...I have..." she whispered as his mouth hovered
near hers.
     "What you would taste like..." he closed his eyes again, one
hand behind her neck, the other insinuating itself into her robe,
warm and gentle spread on her stomach. "You're going to have to
kiss me now..." he whispered, and, as much to her surprise as
his, she did.

     They kissed for a long time, softly, sweetly. When her hands
finally moved, rose to the buttons of his shirt, he caught them
and pushed them down to her sides.
     "No hurry..." he whispered. "We have as long as we want..."
     She sighed into his mouth and pressed herself up to him,
just a litle, giving him the chance to slip an arm beneath her
and roll so they were face-to-face, sideways on the sofa. He
kicked off his shoes and hooked a leg over both of hers,
anchoring himself with his other hand on the back of the sofa and
pulling her very close, as close as he could.
     Their mouths opened wider and the kisses became deeper, lips
sealed together, breath rushing from nostrils to mingle in the
scant inches between them. His jacket slipped off one shoulder
and he shrugged quickly, trying to shake it loose and her hands
pushed it down, away from him, until it hung from his arm and her
hands were sliding beneath the shirt, between the buttons, to
settle with warm familiarity on his smooth-muscled chest. 
     Mulder released his hold on the sofa, sliding her robe up
and his hand under the gown beneath it to cup her butt and knead
it gently, pressing her pelvis to his, letting her feel him.
     "Scully." he whispered, raising his face to look down at
her, her eyes wide and shining.
     "I know, Mulder." she answered, reaching to pull his head
back down, but he resisted.
     "Not just now..." he sounded worried. "I need you -- as my
partner, my friend. I can't risk that for..." he shrugged,gave
her a quick kiss, "for this, even as good as it is."
     Now she opened her eyes again and stared at him lucidly,
putting her hands back on his chest.
     "It's okay, Mulder." she spoke with a serene calm. "It
didn't change anything the first time it happened, it won't
change anything now."
     "Are you sure...?" he began to lower his head again,
watching her eyes. "Scully, are you sure?"
     "Mulder." she sighed as he began to kiss her again, from her
forehead to chin, tiny, teasing kisses. "Call me Dana."
     "Dana." he said it softly, testing it on his tongue just
above her lips. "Dana."
     Then he rolled away from her, onto the floor, and stood
slowly, arms reaching for her. 
     With a smile that was a little bit shy, a little bit
nervous, she held her arms out to him and he lifted her with
surprising strength, and began to carry her into the bedroom,
trying to kiss her as he did.
     "Mulder," she whispered as they aproached the half-open
door, "it's kind of a mess..."
     "Like I care." he gave the door a shove with a foot and it
swung open. The bathroom light was on, softly illuminating the
room, the rumpled bed and a couple piles of clothing on the
floor. He laid her on the bed and took a single step back,
watching her.
     Scully lay back on the pillows and smiled at him, one hand
reaching for him.
     "It's okay, Mulder." she encouraged. "I want this to
happen."
     "I'm glad." he said, beginning to unbutton the shirt,
shedding the jacket, watching her watch him. 
     He undressed with no fanfare, keeping his eyes on hers,
noticing when her's dropped to look at him, catching them again
when they rose back to his face.
     "Okay?" he said quietly, taking a step toward the bed,
standing over her.
     "Okay." she agreed, taking his hands and pulling him down
beside her. He buried his hands in her hair and began to kiss her
neck, softly, nuzzling behind her ear and then kissing lower, and
lower, a soft path down to the neck of her gown. Her hands were
on his shoulders, they tightened and urged him on.
     The robe belt fell open beneath his hands and he curved them
around her hips as he rose slightly, looking down at her,
studying her, meeting her eyes.
     "I always knew you were beautiful." he said, and she smiled
nervously.
     His expression changed as he looked at her, from light-
hearted teasing to something darker, more serious.
     "There are some things we haven't discussed." he said
slowly, not uncomfortable, but trying to be delicate.
     "It's taken care of." she said softly. "After the last
time...I decided I needed to be in a relationship, that I needed
to start dating again, so I went back on the pill."
     "Nothing - happened - 'that last time', did it?" he sounded
concerned.
     "The timing was good." she said. Then she smiled. "Or bad,
depending how you look at it."
     "As long as there weren't any complications." he said with a
sigh, lowering himself beside her and pulling her onto her side
to face him, looking at her, his hands still on her hips.
     "You can change your mind." he said suddenly. "What I said
about fair -- it wasn't the right thing to say."
     "No, it's okay." she stroked his face with her fingertips,
smiling as he caught them gently between his teeth. "I've
wondered, too, Mulder. What it would be like. Especially now --
I'd like to be with you while you're conscious, when you can
remember it."
     "I'll always remember this." he said, lowering his head to
nuzzle again at her neck, drifting lower until his face was
pressed between her breasts, his arms tightening around her
convulsively as he took one in his mouth and suckled, one hand
dropping to push her robe further aside, to unbutton the front of
the soft gown.
     Relaxing into his embrace Scully allowed her hands to
wander, answering some of the wondering she had, remembering most
of him and being surprised by some. The scars of gunshot wounds,
puckered and thick, the pebbled feel of an old roadburn on his
thigh, these were new to her.
     "Scully." he whispered as his mouth traveled back up to
hers. "Dana." as he closed his over hers again, to pour his soul
into that kiss until they were both straining against each other,
pressing hard, his hand rubbing, caressing her back and thighs
and butt, hers cupping and stroking and exploring with a
delicate, heady touch.
     The passion built until they were both groaning softly, then
he pulled away and lay back beside her, smiling at her small
sound of frustration, catching her reaching hand and bringing it
to his lips to tenderly kiss and then slowly suckle each finger.
     "No hurry." he whispered again, but then gave into her
urgings and pulled her close again, to begin kissing and stroking
and teasing again, stoking the fire between them until he thought
he would explode, and then pulling back yet again, this time
leaving only their legs touching, entwined, and her hands on his
chest as his were in her hair.
     "Mulder." she sighed. "Don't tease."
     "Everything worth having is worth waiting for." he
whispered, gently holding her away from him when she tried to
move closer. "I want this to last a long time -- if this is all
we're going to have I want to make sure it's special."
     "Is this all we're going to have?" she asked, not trying to
reach him anymore.
     "Yeah." he sighed and now moved close to her again. "Yeah. I
think so, Dana."
     "You're probably right." she agreed softly as she let her
hands wander again before settling with purpose below his waist.
"But it will be special, because it's us."
     "You and me." he agreed as he slid a leg between hers,
watching her face carefully. 
     She opened to him willingly and their eyes locked as he
entered her with a slow lunge, stopping to experience the
sensation of becoming one.
     His arms were around her waist and hers tight on his
shoulders and they stared at each other for long minutes until he
released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding and lowered
his mouth to hers.
     He teased her lips, nibbling and kissing lightly until she
moved against him in protest and he groaned once, deeply, and
began kissing her with eager hunger, moving within her slowly at
first, but then building a rythm that matched hers as she moved
with him.
     One hand cupped a breast and he stroked his fingertips down
her side and back as she moaned softly and urged him on with a
hand on his butt, her leg thrown over the top of his as she
leaned into his rythm and they began to move as one, in sync, and
they were kissing and making love and it was perfect as time
stretched and slowed and seemed to cease.
     There was no point where he began and she ended.
     Her rising moan of approaching satisfaction was echoed by
his groaned "Scully...!" as he peaked and held himself to her,
his body shuddering with the force of it, as close to her as he
could possibly get. For one moment of startling clarity they saw
each other and knew that they were one, and then it was over and
they were falling again to earth, to collapse against each other,
he holding her with quicksilver strength, face buried at her
shoulder, shuddering with emotion as she tried to wrap herself
around him and sooth, protect, ease him.
     When his shudders subsided they lay quiet, no desire to
move, content to just lie there and enjoy the aftermath as one.

     "Hey." her whisper floated into his ear, her mouth right
beside it. "I thought I told you to call me Dana."
     He raised his head and his grin was like a homecoming.
     "I tried." he answered with quiet humor. "But you'll always
be 'Scully' to me."
     "I guess you're right." she sighed and shifted her leg. He
moved his hips to give her room and slipped from her, bringing a
groan to his lips. "Uhhhn."
     "Sorry." she didn't move away, just snuggled closer. He
rolled to his back and pulled her against his side, her leg over
his, his arm around her, her head on his chest.
     They lay as their breathing slowed and their bodies relaxed.
She was getting sleepy and beginning to nod off when he spoke
again, a whisper.
     "Can I stay?" there was a hint of uncertainty in it, the
vulnerability that no one else was allowed to see.
     "Of course." she turned her head to kiss his neck, his
chest, while he reached past her and drew the rumpled covers over
both of them. Settling back he snugged her closer and lay his
cheek on her hair, sighing into it, his free hand covering hers
on his chest.
     "Thank you." he whispered, and she smiled against his skin
before closing her eyes and drifting to sleep.
     She didn't know he lay awake until dawn, watching her sleep.
     
     She woke still wrapped in his arms. They had turned during
the night and they were snuggled spoon-fashion, Mulder wrapped
around her. 
     With a smile she slid out of his arms and padded to the
bathroom, closing the door and stepping into the shower,
thinking.
     If he were any other lover she would have invited him to
join her, but this had been a one-time-only thing and she wasn't
going to push it. Their professional and personal relationships
were too precious to risk for a physical one, she agreed with him
on that, but she was very glad this had happened. Their trust was
deepened, the uncertainty was gone. They might go on to other
lovers, but this night would stay with them.
     The dog started barking and she winced, hoping she'd left
the doggy door to the little patio open or there would be a mess
to clean up, but then she turned off the water and heard the
doorbell.
     Hurrying, she stopped only to grab her robe from the floor
where she had dropped it and went to look out the peephole,
QueegQuaig bouncing at her heels.
     "Damn."
     Assisstant Director Skinner, looking as if he'd slept a week
and bathed longer, was standind impatiently on her landing.
     "Agent Scully." he said loudly, but not loud enough to
bother the neighbors. "I need to speak with you."
     "Director Skinner." she acknowledged, twisting the latch and
opening the door a crack. "I was in the shower. Can't this wait
until I get in?"
     "I don't think so." he said, and he looked angry. He glanced
slowly at the parking lot and she followed his eyes as they came
to rest on Mulder's car, parked beside hers.
     "There was an emergency call for Agent Mulder last night,
and he didn't answer his phone. When you also did not answer your
phone it was assumed there was a reason to worry."
     "Noo." she said slowly. "No, everything's fine. There's no
reason to worry, Director Skinner."
     He paused and looked at her carefully.
     "Could I come in to discuss this? It's awkward standing
here."
     "I'd rather you didn't." she answered steadily, thinking of
Mulder's shoes and jacket abandoned beside her sofa.
     "Ah." his soft sound of affirmation unnerved her. 
     "I'll be in by nine, sir." she offered.
     "Do you think Agent Mulder will also be in by nine, Agent
Scully?" he asked quietly.
     "I couldn't say." 
     "If you hear from him you will suggest it, won't you, Agent
Scully?"
     Meeting his eyes she answered steadily.
     "Yes, sir. I will."
     "Then I will let you get back to your preparations." he
said, turning to go. She watched him go down three, then four
steps before he turned back.
     "You know, Agent Scully, sometimes things happen. They might
not be smart things, but it seems like they're just meant to be.
The best way to deal with something that has to happen but
shouldn't is to pretend it didn't." he paused, one hand on the
stair railing. "Don't you agree?"
     She opened the door a little wider to lean out as she
answered him.
     "Yes, I do, sir." she said quietly.
     "I'll see you at the office." he said, turning to go again.
     "Yes, sir." she said as he left. "Good morning, sir."
     He didn't say anything else as she watched him go, and then
she went back inside, locked the door, and got dressed for work.
     Mulder stirred as she sat on the bed, putting in her
earrings. His hand brushed her thigh and she shivered, covering
it with one of her own as she looked down and he opened his eyes.
     "Hi." he said, looking at her.
     "Good morning." she replied, restraining the urge to lean
over and kiss him. "You slept late. We've already had a visitor."
     "Who?" he sat up, sheet slipping down, unselfconscious.
     "Skinner. He saw your car, Mulder. He knows." 
     He shook his head at her worry, smiling his catchy grin.
     "He won't say anything."
     "How do you know?" she asked. She agreed with him, but was
mildly annoyed by his certainty.
     "I just do." he said as he rose from the bed and walked
naked across the room. She watched him resignedly.
     "We can't do this again." she said.
     "I know." he picked up his pants and pulled them on over
bare skin before coming back and leaning over her. "I knew last
night."
     She looked up at him, trying not to smile but unable to
resist his lopsided charm.
     "But it was worth it, wasn't it?" he said softly and she
melted inside.
     "Yes, Mulder." she answered as he leaned to kiss her one
last time. "It was."
     They kissed deeply, tenderly, and then he gathered up his
things and left, Scully standing in the doorway and watching him
go, trying to ignore the burning in her eyes, knowing in her
heart that this was best. As much as they meant to each other,
this was a distraction. But, she thought, as his car pulled out,
they had years ahead of them. Things could change.
     When Mulder got home he went in and climbed into the shower,
turning the water on full force, the steam rising in waves,
raising his face to it.
     Then, as the water washed her scent from him, he leaned
forward, forehead pressed to the tiled wall, arms braced to
support him, and sobbed brokenly, until the water ran cold. 


End.