9-96
From Saraid: Greetings and salutations. That's some pig. This is
the second of my M&S series, and it's pretty harsh. CAUTION:
Depressing Subject Ahead! Don't flame me for it, okay? If you
really hate it, write a story where you kill me in a suitably
messy fashion and send it to me. It's good practice and you'll
feel better for it, trust me. Oops! - I meant "trust no one."
Didn't I?

details: somehow M&S still belong to CC and Co, although I'm sure
I would've thought of them if I'd thunk long enough [not].
DEFINITELY NC-17, stop here if you're under 17 -- go to jail, go
directly to jail, etc, etc, etc, and DON'T READ THIS. 

THIS STORY CONTAINS SCENES OF SEXUAL ASSAULT.

The songs quoted are from the CD "Throwing Copper" by the band
LIVE, used without permission, but they've made enough money now
that I don't think they'll bother me too much about it. BTW, it's
a good album, especially for those of us with a darker turn to
our thoughts. It was certainly inspiring while I wrote this, one
long weekend...

Everything in italics is thought, not spoken, unless it's in
quotation marks. It's not as complicated as it sounds, honest.
This may seem like a cheap literary device, but it works for me. 

This is all relationship stuff. The timing isn't too important --
I figure it happened recently, probably during the summer reruns.
We knew they were doing something all those months... 

                            Crumbling Mortar
                                    
Part#1
A crime

     There are crimes, and then there are crimes, Special Agent
Dana Scully thought to herself as she finished packing up her
briefcase, alone at the long table in the University library. It
was really late, on a Saturday, and even the most dedicated
students had left the books for a chance to rest or play. Scully
herself had played earlier in the day, shopping with her mother,
but brought herself back to work with a semblance of eagerness.
She was going to testify on Monday, at the trial of a serial
killer with a distinctive style. It had made him hard to catch
and harder to prosecute, but her partner, Agent Fox Mulder, had
done it - with her help, of course.
     Calling himself "The Angel of Mercy", Jonathan Brooks, ex-
communicated Catholic priest, had taken upon himself to relieve
the abused and neglected children of the world of their
suffering, and get their parents blamed for it. The full count
would never be known, but there was enough evidence to prosecute
him for seven of the tragic deaths, and some evidence that he'd
been a factor in at least thirty more, which would put him way up
on the list of historic killers. Personally, Scully thought the
number was a little high, that some of those children actually
had been killed by their parents, but it didn't matter now. He
was in a cell and they were going to make sure he stayed there
for a really long time - or died trying.
     She left the stack of books on the table for the librarians
- she never seemed to get them back where they belonged - and
began to make her way out of the stacks.
     Prrrrrrrrp. She stopped, leaned on a table and pulled out
her phone, knowing who it was.
     "Scully."
     "Are you asleep yet?"
     "I'm still at the library, Mulder. I was just heading home."
     "I just got some news. It'll make your life easier."
     She waited, knowing he'd tell her before she asked. It was a
game they played, and he always lost.
     "'Father' Jon's dead. I just got the call."
     She sat, relief filling her. She hadn't been looking forward
to testifying, he knew that. Making a jury of laypersons
understand how the drugs Jon Brooks had used gave the appearance
of a severe beating by making bruises appear after death when the
children had actually died of oxygen depravation to the brain,
she hadn't been quite sure she was up to the challenge. She would
have done it and done it well, but she was so glad she didn't
have to.
     "He killed himself, at midnight." Mulder seemed to think
that was funny.
     Scully shook her head. "How? I thought he was being watched
carefully."
     Mulder's voice got more cheerful.
     "He stole a fork from the cafeteria and used it to slit a
wrist, in bed under the covers. Nobody noticed until the blood
started dripping on his cellmate, but it was too late. Apparently
those pillows they use are pretty absorbent."
     "But, Mulder, aren't the cafeteria forks plastic?"
     "Ouch." he seemed amused by her reaction. Oh, well, she
amused him regularly. It was probably the only fun in his life
outside work.
     "So, you're off the hook. Want to celebrate?"
     "I'm going home and going to bed, Mulder. Some of us
actually try to sleep at night."
     "Why?"
     Scully changed subjects, not wanting to debate that one
again. "I'm having dinner at Mom's tomorrow, would you like to
come?"
     "I'm already invited." it was said smugly.
     "She never gives up." Scully sighed. Her mother was quietly
determined to get the two of together as a couple.
     "Should I bring a movie?" 
     "Don't you dare. Do you want to give her a coronary?"
Scully's mother, Margaret, was as open-minded as they come, but
there was no way she'd understand Mulder's affection for porn. It
just wasn't something nice boys liked, and she thought Mulder was
a nice boy.
     "As if." He gave it a real valley-girl intonation that made
her chuckle. "How about Steel Magnolias?"
     "That's her favorite movie. How did you know?"
     "I asked." he still sounded smug. "Not everything has to be
difficult, Scully."
     When he said her name like that she felt a coolness to her
skin, like an unfelt breeze carrying the memory of that night,
more than a year ago now, and what they had shared.
     "I gotta go, Mulder. I'll see you tomorrow."
     "Are you smiling?"
     She smiled at the question and answered. "Yes, Mulder. I'm
smiling."
     "Good, because I wouldn't want your face to freeze in that
'thinking' mode."
     He hung up without saying goodbye, as he always did.
     Scully sat for a minute and reviewed the conversation. They
hadn't said anything new, nothing had changed, but still she felt
like a door had been opened. It was an odd sensation, looking
into that door and seeing the possibilities trail off in endless
configurations.
     She thought about it as she walked out of the library, a
brief wave to the grad student with the unenviable job of
watching the desk while all of his friends played.
     "Good night, Agent Scully." he said cheerfully, looking up
from his computer.
     "Good night, Steve." she knew a lot of the grad students who
worked at the library. When she wanted to do medical research but
didn't want to run into anybody from work, this was where she
came.
     
     The parking lot was dark. She paused at the door to get out
her keys and hold them ready as she ventured out. Why don't they
light this better? she asked herself for the thousandth time as
she headed for her car, in a visitors' spot, the last row on the
left. I guess students deserve the good spots, she thought as she
started the long walk, her briefcase swinging at her side. They
have good security here. It was silly of her, but even when there
were ample student spots open closer to the building, like there
had been tonight, she still parked way back there in visitors'.
Just a stickler for the rules, she was.
     She smiled softly to herself, thinking of Mulder and that
night, as she did at least once a day. The memory gave her hope
and pleasure. Well, not all the rules.
     Caught up in her thoughts, she didn't see the shadow that
rose from behind one of the few cars parked in the lot as she
passed it.
     The weight hit her hard from behind, slamming her to the
asphalt, skinning her knees and smashing her nose as her
briefcase skittered free of her hand and under the car.
     Her scream was cut off before it began, a large hand over
her mouth and nose, the other grabbing at the back of her waist
for her weapon.
     She struggled furiously, but the hand was cutting off her
air, and she had no leverage. He - she had no doubt this was a
man and she knew what he intended - was large, bigger than
Mulder, and he'd planned this well. In the shadow of the car, on
the ground, they were invisible to anyone passing on the street.
But still she struggled, desperately, biting his hand and arching
herself back in an effort to throw him from her.
     But he was too big and she couldn't breathe. Sparkles in her
eyes warned her that time was running out and she increased her
struggles with a rush of adrenalin that pounded through her even
as she felt her panties ripped off and the air on her skin told
her her skirt was gone, too.
     Then there was a blinding flash of pain as he hit her with
something - her gun? - and she collapsed, a limp body on the
pavement.
     And he got on with business.

Part#2
Three hours

     Steve DelRio, a doctoral candidate in mathematics and
computer hacker extraordinarre, was tired, but excited too. It
was a strange sensation, this combination of exhaustion and
adrenalin. He couldn't wait to get home and crawl into bed with
his laptop and a joint and finish the conversation he'd been
having all night with Sierra, a med student at UCLA. He was
pretty sure how it would end. 
     The sky was till dark. He closed up around four every
Saturday morning to give the maintenance crew time to really
clean the place before it reopened at noon on Sunday.
     Prrrrrrrrp.
     Steve stopped, hearing the buzz of a cellular phone. He
checked his pockets, but his was silent.
     Maybe he was hearing things. He hadn't slept much in the
past few weeks.   
     Prrrrrrrrp. There it was again.
     He followed the sound around the bulk of an old Chevy,
possibly dumped, it had been there for a month now.
     And caught his breath with a harsh gasp.
     "Oh my God." he ran to the woman, seeing the blue-grey suit,
knowing who it must be, suddenly terrified.
     Prrrrrrrrp. The phone rang again, it seemed to be getting
louder, angrier. He looked wildly around, saw the scattered
briefcase and the phone lying beside it.
     What did he do?!!
     Carefully, afraid of moving her, wincing as he saw the blood
soaking her legs and hair, he turned her head so he could search
for a pulse.
     There wasn't one!
     Prrrrrrrrrrp!
     No, wait. Calm down,  he told himself.  Take your time, feel
carefully.
     With a deep breath he steadied himself and searched again,
this time rewarded with a faint flutter at the base of her
bruised neck, letting out a sigh of relief.
     PRRRRRRRRRRP!!
      The obnoxious phone was getting to him. He grabbed it,
afraid to hear a voice on the other side - who knew what was
going on here - and answered hesitantly.
     "Hullo?"
     "Scully?" the voice on the other end was deep and smooth and
a little harsh. Steve winced.
     "No, I'm not Agent Scully. She's...She's had an accident."
     "Who is this?" the voice was angry now, and alarmed. "What
are you doing with Scully's phone?"
     "I don't have time to talk to you, I've got to get an
ambulance..." Steve trailed off as the voice on the other end
exploded.
     "HEY! This is Agent Mulder! I'm Scully's partner! Where are
you? Where's Scully?! What happened to her?!!"
     "I'm in the parking lot, at the university library - I work
here. I was just walking out to leave and I found her, lying here
- she's hurt, and I've got to call an ambulance..."
     "oh my god." the man's voice dropped dramatically, now
filled with pain. "Is she alive?"
     "Yes, I think so."
     "Stay with her - don't move her. Keep her warm. I'll have an
ambulance there in five minutes." Mulder promised. "I'll be right
there."
     "Okay." Steve agreed, hearing the connection cut. He sat
beside Agent Scully, seeing her as she'd left - had it been two
hours ago or three? He didn't remember, but the video camera
would. 
     It would also show him sitting at his desk the whole time,
he realized with a surge of relief, feeling guilty about it. They
wouldn't think he did this.
     Looking at her, he was pretty sure what had been done.
     He took off his bomber jacket - worn for style, not warmth -
and gently covered her with it. He wanted to turn her over, to
ease the pressure on her face, which was still nose-down on the
pavement, but the other agent had said not to move her. But could
she breathe okay like that? He compromised by carefully, gently
turning her head to the side. Her eyes fluttered, but didn't open
and he was glad of that. He didn't want to be there when this
pretty woman woke up and remembered what had been done to her.
     She still looked so uncomfortable. He pulled off his T-
shirt, folded it and carefully raised her face and slid it
between her bruised skin and the asphalt. That looked better.
     He took her hand, so small and still, and held it in his, as
he waited in the dark with the pretty woman, hurt so bad.

     Scully's hurt, Scully's hurt, Scully's hurt... it ran
through his brain like an insane mantra, and his heart was
swelling, threatening to fill his chest and cut off his air.
     He saw his exit and flew for it, gunning the engine and
crossing three lanes to barely make it. It was a good thing the
streets were pretty empty now - but not completely, he realized
as a horn blared to his right as he came off the freeway.
     He would get there before the ambulance, he hoped. He wanted
to see her, see what had happened. See this kid who had found
her.
     He wanted her to see him when she opened her eyes, not some
stranger.
     
     Steve heard the car squeal into the parking lot, followed by
a campus security vehicle with flashing lights. He stood and
waved both arms.
     The man that threw himself from the blue Taurus was exactly
what Steve had been expecting. Tall, good-looking, graceful. He
didn't go around the Chevy, simply came over the top and landed
beside Scully's still form.
     And everything seemed to drain out of him. He shrank in
front of Steve, the shouts of the campus cops ignored, and sank
to his knees beside her.
     "Scully..." his whisper was so full of pain that Steve
cringed in sympathy.

     With very gentle, long fingers Mulder traced her face and
felt gingerly at her neck. The steady beating there reassured him
and he was able to examine the rest of her, with breif, gentle
touches and discrete movements.
     He didn't hear the campus cops behind him, or Steve keeping
them away, or even the sirens as an ambulance, police car, and
several Bureau vehicles pulled into the lot.
     He only saw Scully, and how she had been hurt, and he felt
that pain as if it were his own.
     Ignoring his own advice, he turned her over and pulled her
upper body into his lap as he sat, legs spread, tenderly brushing
the matted hair from her face, sliding the bomber jacket down to
cover her exposed lower half. He saw glimpses of things that
didn't mean anything now, but he knew they would later - a piece
of crumpled, shredded satin; a pile of dark blue linen; a gun
with dried blood scabbing the barrel.
     The medics were running over, Skinner and several other
agents behind them, and Mulder waved him off, knowing Scully
wouldn't want them to see her like this - abused and exposed.
     "Back off!" he yelled at Skinner, who stopped just as he
came around the Chevy, his hands suddenly clenched behind his
back as he took in the scene and stiffened.
     He nodded, spreading his arms and keeping the others from
passing him.
     The medics pulled up the gurney and came to him, and Mulder
let them touch her with great reluctance, not letting them take
her from him.
     They cut her clothes off and covered her with a thermal
blanket, started an IV and medicine to combat shock and he
watched them with half his mind, the other half focused firmly on
Scully, willing her to stay unconscious, to spare herself this
invasion of her privacy.
     The medics were talking to him, and it took him a minute to
hear them and respond.
     "We need to get her into the truck now, sir." the older one,
a man, was saying. "We need you to let go."
     He looked down and realized that he still held her, in his
arms, tightly.
     "We need to get her to the hospital, sir." the medic was
stressing this but Mulder couldn't seem to let go. He looked at
the man helplessly.
     Then a pair of strong hands were on his shoulders and he
heard a familiar voice in his ear, trying to give him strength.
     "Let them take her, Agent Mulder. They'll take care of her."
AD Skinner reached to loosen his arms from Scully, but Mulder
resisted. "They have to take her to the hospital, Agent Mulder."
     He understood now. With a heave that barely disturbed her he
got himself to his feet, Skinner understood and reached to help
him lift himself, hands under his arms.
     He was up, Scully in his arms. The younger medic grabbed up
the IV bottle while the older tucked the blanket around her as it
threatened to slip off.
     Mulder carried her the few feet to the gurney and laid her
gently on it, laying her hands by her sides and tucking them
under the blanket.
     "Can I ride with her?" he asked, his voice so flat Skinner
didn't recognize it.
     "Yeah, we got room for one." the older medic said, gesturing
for him to jump in with the younger guy.
     "Give me your keys - I'll meet you at the hospital." Skinner
said. With a glance Mulder did, still numb, not entirely aware.
He climbed into the ambulance and the doors slammed shut behind
him.
     Skinner stared after the ambulance as it pulled out, awed by
the pain he'd seen in Mulder's face. Partners became close, but
these two were famous for their relationship, in the Bureau.
     If anyone could get Dana Scully through this, it was her
partner.
     Skinner went to the gathered agents and began issuing
instructions, a part of his mind chiding him; Mulder isn't all
that stable himself - will this destroy him as well as Scully?
     He would do everything in his power to prevent that.

     Bursting through the emergency room door, Mulder was
shouldered aside by a burly orderly as people surrounded Scully,
shouting instructions at each other.
     "Okay, we got a white female, approximately thirty years of
age..."
     "Thirty-two." Mulder said, to nobody. "She's thirty-two."
     They ignored him.
     "Probable rape, vaginal bleeding, compound fracture of left
radius and ulna, broken nose, possible internal injuries from
blunt trauma." the older medic said as they transferred her to
the hospital bed. "She's an FBI agent." he added, as if it was
important for them to know.
     "Give me 10 cc's of..." the young doctor began pulling off
the blanket, leaving Scully bare to the world, "..Anapromaine and
a rape kit." he suddenly looked at Mulder, who was staring in
utter horror at the deep purple bruises mottling Scully's pale
torso and upper thighs. "What's he doing in here? Get him out of
here!"
     "I...I'm her partner..." he stammered, something he'd never
done before, not even as a high school geek.
     "I don't care if you're God, get him out of here!" the
doctor shouted, and Mulder felt himself pushed from the room and
the curtain fell in front of his face, cutting off his view of
her, which was a sudden relief.
     He stood, stunned. A nurse came out from behind the curtain,
saw him, and took pity on him.
     She approached him carefully, seeing the gun holstered at
his side, seeing the fine tremors that ran through his body,
correctly deciding he was going into mild shock.
     "Agent?" she made it a question, and he looked at her with
blank eyes. "Let me take you to the waiting room..."
     She carefully took his arm and led him a few feet, to a
plain door, and through to a small room with a sofa, chairs,
coffee table, lamp and phone. It was carpeted, plush and quiet.
     "Sit here." she pushed him down on the sofa, and gave a
shout out the door.
     "Nancy! Get me a thermal and some coffee in here, STAT!"
     Then she sat knelt in front of him and slowly reached for
his gun.
     His hand clapped over hers suddenly and she held her breath.
     "I need to take your weapon, sir." she said. "We can't take
any chances here."
     He looked into her face and she saw that he was seeing her,
that he understood as he pulled his hand away.
     She removed the gun from the holster, checked to make sure
the safety was on, and laid it on the coffee table.
     "What's your name?" she asked, glad that they weren't so
busy, that she had the time to talk to this man and give him some
support until his friends and family got here. "I'm Jill Roberts.
I'm an RN."
     "Mulder. Agent Mulder." he said, rasping. "When can I see
Scully?"
     "Is that her name? Scully?"
     "Dana." the word seemed to drag out of him, as if he'd never
used it before. "Special Agent Dana Scully."
     "She's going to be fine." There were no life-threatening
injuries, so there was no reason she shouldn't be. "You can see
her as soon as we get her to a room."
     Another nurse came to the door, with blankets and two large
cups of coffee. Roberts took with a quiet thank-you and came to
spread one over Mulder, whose trembling had become more
pronounced. He accepted the coffee, but didn't drink.
     "Scully drinks coffee." he said suddenly. "She has to have
it, every morning, so I make it when I get in. It keeps her in a
good mood."
     "She's going to be fine." Roberts said. "I need to go check
on her now, so you drink that and I'll be back, okay?"
     He didn't answer, but took a sip of the hot liquid.

     When she returned to tell him that Scully was being moved to
a room, she found the room full of men in suits. She thought she
would have guessed what they were if she hadn't already known.
They all had that look to them.
     Mulder was still where she'd left him on the sofa, but there
was a woman crying in his arms. From the greying red hair and
small stature, Roberts deduced that this was Scully's mother.
     He was holding her and talking quietly in her ear as she
sobbed. The other agents were standing stiffly, looking
uncomfortable.
     One stepped in front of her as she came in. Tall, sturdily
muscled, he had a definite air of authority.
     "I'm Assistant Director Skinner. Can you tell us how Agent
Scully is doing?"
     "She's being moved to a room right now. Doctor Patterson
says that her family should meet him on the floor, he'll talk to
you there." she looked past him to the mother. "Are you Mrs.
Scully? I can escort you up."
     "Is she going to be okay?" Skinner asked insistently.
     "There is every reason to believe that Agent Scully will
make a full recovery." she said, unable to say more without the
doctor's permission.
     He sighed, a sigh of relief, and stepped back.
     "Mrs. Scully?" Roberts said, coming to the woman. "Can you
come with me now? You, too, Agent Mulder."
     They walked past the others, Mulder half-supporting
Margaret, and Skinner stopped him at the door.
     "Do you want is to stay?" he asked Mulder.
     Mulder's eyes were dark and bleak, but there was hatred in
his voice as he answered.
     "We'll be fine. Just find the bastard who did this." 
     "We will." Skinner let him pass. "Before the day is out."
     Mulder didn't reply, just followed Roberts down the hall,
Margaret beside him.

     They sat at her bedside, one on each side, Margaret a little
closer than Mulder, waiting for the doctor, who hadn't been
waiting for them.
     They didn't speak. There seemed no room for words, no air.
Scully lay between them, a pale, fragile form that barely moved.
Clad in plaster and cotton, hung with tubing, she seemed a
mannequin, a semblance of a human being. Not Scully.

     He felt it, the guilt welling inside him, threatening to
fill him and drown him, but he pushed it down. Not now. Later,
when I know Scully's okay. Then I will feel it, he told himself.
     Looking at Margaret, he convinced himself that he could feel
her agreement to that.
     The doctor finally stumbled in, flushed and hurried.
     "I'm Dr.Patterson." he said shortly, not sitting. "You are
Mrs.Scully?"
     "Yes." she said steadily.
     "You daughter's injuries are of an extremely personal
nature, Mrs.Scully. Do you want me to discuss them in front of
him?"
     "Fox has as much right to be here as I do." 
     He blinked at that. Did she know what had happened between
them last year?
     "If you say so." the doctor shrugged. "Mrs. Scully, your
daughter was brutally raped, both vaginally and analy. There were
severe lacerations the genitals. Her nose was broken, and her
arm. The arm has been set and she is currently receiving
medication for pain. It is usually my recommendation in cases
like this that the patient be kept sedated until the worst of
the...more private...injuries have begun to heal. Four or five
days, at least."
     "She won't wake up for four or five days?" Mulder asked.
     "I wouldn't recommend it."
     "It's for the best, Fox." Margaret said. "She doesn't need
to know what happened until she's not hurting so much." 
     It will hurt so much anyhow, he thought.
     "Whatever you think is best." Margaret said.
     "Can we stay with her?" Mulder asked.
     Can I stay with her? he didn't say it out loud, afraid of
the answer. Not that he wouldn't stay with her, he just didn't
feel up to fighting about it right now.
     "Why don't you go home and get some rest." Patterson
suggested. "Come back this afternoon. We're going to finish
cleaning her up, and there's really nothing you can do right
now."
     "You go." Mulder said to Margaret. "We can take turns. I
don't want her to be here alone."
     She nodded, looking suddenly old. Mulder had never seen her
that way before.
     "I need to call her brothers and the rest of the family."
she said slowly. "You'll stay with her?"
     "Haven't I always?" he said softly, and the doctor saw
something, an understanding pass between them.
     Mulder would stay and be strong as long as Scully needed
him. Then he would fall apart in private.
     Margaret got up to go.
     "Would you call my mother?" Mulder asked.
     "Are you sure you don't want to?" she asked, concerned. He
had never had a good relationship with her, but Margaret had
thought it was getting better.
     "Not now." he shook his head.
     "Of course. She can stay with me." she knew Catherine would
want to come down from the vineyard until Dana was better.
     "There are some forms you need to fill out..." Patterson led
Margaret from the room, leaving Mulder alone with the pale form
that was Scully.
      
     They let her sleep for six days. Patterson explained,
awkwardly, that the damage had been extreme.
     "Dana is a small woman, Mrs. Scully, much like yourself.
Whoever attacked her was a large...well-endowed man. Ahem. Does
she have a regular sexual partner?"
     "Is that relevant?" Mulder spoke from his place by the wall.
He wanted to be close to her, but was afraid the presence of any
man might disturb her.
     Patterson looked vaguely embarrassed. "Well, yes. Regular
sexual activity stretches the vaginal muscles. If she hasn't had
a regular partner that would explain the level of injury."
     Margaret looked at the doctor and then at Mulder, then
shrugged.
     "She didn't tell me about anyone. Was she seeing anyone,
Fox?"
     His answer was short. "No."
     Margaret looked at him, hearing something in his voice, and
the doctor waited expectantly.
     Mulder continued reluctantly.
     "She hasn't...been with...anyone - in over a year." he said
haltingly. 
     "You're sure?" Patterson asked.
     "I'm sure." Mulder said flatly, trying not to remember that
night...how sweet she had tasted, how long it had been, how he
had longed to do it again. Was longing for it now, this minute.
He wanted to take her in his arms and erase everything that other
guy had done to her.
     "We'll start withdrawing the sedative tomorrow morning."
Patterson said at last, wondering as he looked at the handsome,
aloof man. "I think Mrs. Scully should be here when she wakes
up."
     Mulder nodded sharply, understanding what he didn't say -
how she might react seeing a man.
     "Dr. Levine will take over her care at that point."
Patterson continued. "She's experienced in rape cases and can
make the best recommendations in Dana's case. There may be a need
for reconstructive surgery."
     "Of what?" Mulder asked, then he shook his head and held up
a hand as the doctor hesitated. "No. I didn't mean that. I don't
want to know."
     "You should both go and get some rest." Patterson said.
"It's going to be tough from here one out."
     Margaret nodded.
     "Thank you, doctor." she said, shaking his hand. "We
appreciate everything you've done for Dana."
     He nodded at Mulder, and left.
     Margaret turned and stared across the room at him.
     "Fox." she said. Her heart was broken and breaking again.
She could see the pain he was in and knew that nobody could ease
it - except, possibly, Dana. But she was out of his reach now,
and she wouldn't be able to help him when she came back. Not
right away, at least. 
     Though she loved this man as if he were her own child, she
hardened her heart and said what needed to be said.
     Stepping closer to him, around the bed, she wasn't surprised
when he actually shrank back against the wall to avoid being
touched by her.
     "You're going to have to rest." she said, laying a hand on
his arm. "You're going to have to be strong. Dana will need you,
and you can't need her. Not now. Not that much."
     He lowered his head to his chest, closing his eyes,
gathering strength.
     "She can't see your pain, Fox. Or your guilt. It will be so
hard for her -- don't make it any harder."
     He raised his head and, gently, took her hand in his,
tentatively, afraid to touch, to feel.
     "I know." he opened his eyes and Margaret could see the
strength, the resolve in them.
     She believed him. He wouldn't make Dana suffer his burden.
At least, not yet.
     But maybe that was what they needed to push them over the
fence they had straddled so long.
     She turned to leave, thinking. Leaving him alone with her,
for the first time since the attack.
     He leaned against the wall for a while, watching the
sunlight fade in the sky outside the window. The sunset was moody
and dark and he felt akin to it.
     After a long time he moved to stand beside the bed. Looking
at her, he leaned to whisper into her ear, his face close to her
neck, smelling the freshness of Scully beneath the hospital
stink.
     He put a hand on the bed to steady himself, took a deep
breath.
     "Scully. I know you can hear me, even if you don't
understand what I'm saying. That's okay. I just wanted to tell
you. To tell you that I love you, and you're going to be fine.
We'll get through this. I can be your wall, your refuge, your
strength. All you have to do is let me."
     He paused, considering.
     "I know this is my fault...I should have been there, or I
should have warned you - reminded you to be careful. But we're
not going to talk about that. I'm going to swallow it down and
bury it deep. It's mine and not yours and I'm not going to
share."
     He stood back up and looked at her for a while longer.  
     "I'll come back when you ask for me. When you're ready to
see me." he whispered into the darkness. Then he leaned down and
kissed her bruised face gently, her eyelids, her cheeks, her
lips.

     Then he left, quietly, the nurses staring after him. He was
an enigma to them. The woman's partner. An FBI agent. They
wondered among themselves - what kind of relationship do they
have? The consensus was that he did love her, if his actions
proved anything.

Part#3
And later

     "Mom." Dana sighed, shifted in the bed. She hurt so many
places - places she didn't like to think about.
     Her mother put down the thank-you list she was compiling and
smiled at her daughter. She was doing so well. She had cried
after she woke up, a little, and then gotten to dealing with it.
Personally, Margaret thought she'd passed through that stage a
little too quickly. And the hospital staff agreed.
     "Yes, Dana?" she said, waiting to hear what she wanted. She
had asked for Fox that first day, when she woke, but not since.
     "Where is Mulder? Why hasn't he come to visit me?" she sat
with an effort, reaching a finger under the edge of the cast to
scratch what she could reach, but it just made the itch worse.
     Margaret stood and came to the bed. "I was wondering when
you would ask that." she said, adjusting the pillows behind her
so she could sit comfortably. "I thought you would ask sooner."
     "I just thought he was giving me time." Dana sighed. "How is
he taking this? Does he ask about me?"
     "He calls me every night, and I tell him how you are. He
never asks anything."
     "Is he afraid to see me?"
     Margaret considered. "I think he's just waiting for you to
ask for him. He doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable."
     Dana smiled wanly. She'd noticed the lack of men. No men
visited, no male doctors or nurses came into her room. Even the
cop who had taken her statement had been a woman. Skinner had
called, but he hadn't come by, and the others -- so many of them
-- had sent cards and flowers.
     Rape made the old boys' network nervous, she decided. A
sense of group responsibility.
     Oh, no. She hadn't thought of that. Was Mulder blaming
himself?
     She smiled again, and her mother noticed.
     Duh, she told herself. 
     This is Mulder I'm thinking about. He blames himself for
everything bad that happens to people close to him.
     "I think I'd better call him." she said aloud.
     "Good idea." her mother smiled. It was a start. Fox wouldn't
let her sweep her feelings under a rug. He knew too much about
that.

     "I don't get it." Mulder stood suddenly, disrupting the
meeting. "Why can't we find this guy?"
     "Sit down, Agent Mulder." Skinner's voice cracked out like a
whip and Mulder sagged back into his chair reluctantly.
     "We have two previous and a ton of physical evidence --
there's got to be a lead here!" he snarled.
     Now Skinner stood, coming around the table to stand behind
Mulder.
     "We have everything but the important stuff, Mulder. No
fingerprints. No semen sample. He wore gloves and a rubber. He
was smart."
     "We know we're looking for a large man, 6'4" or 6'5", who
weighs about 280 pounds. We know he's blond, and has a pale
complexion. He's probably a student. That's it." Gyles spoke from
the other end of the table. Skinner had assigned him to the case
because he knew he was thorough.
     Mulder shook his head. "What about the university? What are
they doing to help?"
     "They know they can't keep it quiet any longer. They've
beefed up security substantially. But they don't have anything
more to offer."
     "How about going through the student files?" Skinner asked.
     "I was hoping to avoid that." Gyles said. "The school is
adamantly against it. It will cause some problems, they won't
cooperate after that, not willingly."
     "This is going to hurt enrollment." Mulder spoke up. "That's
all they care about."
     "We can't just go through their files and question everyone
who looks like that." Gyles said.
     "Why not?"
     Skinner raised his hand and Gyles leaned back, relaxing. He
would keep 'Spooky' under control.
     "I think Mulder's right. We need to go through those files.
Have you followed up everybody who left the school this last
week?"
     "Of course. No matches." 
     "Then we go through the files. Mulder will help you."
     Gyles looked like he wanted to object, but swallowed it.
     Prrrrrrrrrp.
     Everyone checked their phones. With a shrug, Mulder stood
and opened his, moving toward the window.
     "Mulder." he answered shortly.
     "Where have you been?" the voice on the other end was like a
breath of life.
     "Scully!" he said happily. The others looked up and he knew

they were listening.
     "It's time for you to come see me, Mulder." she said into
the phone as her mother watched. "We have things to talk about."
     "I'll be right there." he said, hanging up as soon as he was
done. He turned to the room, a small, wry grin on his face.
"Agent Scully has requested my presence, gentlemen, so if you'll
excuse me...?" he looked toward Skinner, who nodded.
     "Of course, Agent Mulder. Give her our best."
     He was out the door before anyone could start speculating.

     He opened the door hesitantly. Scully was sleeping, alone in
the room, her mother gone home for the day. 
     He stood at the bedside, looking at her. She looked so much
better. the swelling in her face was gone, the bruises faded to
yellow-and-green.
     She opened her eyes and smiled at him.
     "Mulder. You came."
     "I didn't have anything else to do." he said softly, holding
himself back.
     "Why didn't you come sooner?"
     "This is a girl thing, Scully. Not something I should be
around for."
     "Pregnancy is a 'girl thing', Mulder. Rape hurts everybody."
     He stiffened when she said the word.
     "It's okay." she said, holding out a hand to him. "I'm
dealing with it."
     He took the hand and sat in the chair beside the bed.
     "So...how are you?" he asked.
     "I'm going to be fine. I still need to have surgery to fix
some things up, but that won't be too bad."
     "When?"
     "Next monday. Will you be here with me?"
     "Anything you want." he said. Looking at the room, the
flowers. He'd sent baby roses, three dozen soft pink blooms in
dark green foliage. He saw them sitting on the bedside table.
     "Anything?" she asked softly, and he brought his eyes back
to her face.
     "Anything." he said.
     "Then will you quit being my partner for a few minutes and
just be my friend?"
     "I can do that." he smiled twistedly.
     "Would you come up here and hold me?"   
     He hesitated, releasing her hand. "Scully..."
     "I want to feel safe, Mulder. I want to feel your strength
around me. I haven't felt safe since I walked into that parking
lot."
     He didn't say anything, just stood and came to the bed. She
scooted over and he sat beside her, waiting.
     She looked at him for a long minute, then turned her back
and leaned back into his chest. He closed his arms around her and
hugged her close, resting his chin on her shoulder.
     "Better?" he asked softly.
     She closed her eyes and relaxed against him.
     "Yes."
     He sat very still, feeling her warmth fill his arms as it
hadn't done in so long.
     She felt his heart beating against her back and caught her
breath, then relaxed again. This was Mulder. He would never hurt
her.
     They sat that way for a long time. A nurse went by the door,
looked in, and smiled at him. He didn't smile back, too absorbed
in the feel of Scully in his arms. When she left he closed his
eyes and breathed her scent.

     "Mulder." she whispered, realizing that she'd fallen asleep.
They were in the same position, but it was dark now. She shivered
and Mulder shifted.
     "Are you cold, Scully?" his breath was warm in her ear.
     "No. I just don't like the dark much anymore."
     "Hang on." he released her with one arm to reach the remote
control and turn on the TV, muting the sound. The flickering
screen added a splash of ghostly light to the room.
     Scully almost chuckled.
     "I don't think that's an improvement." she said as he
brought his arm back and rested his chin again. "What time is
it?"
     "Just past midnight. You were tired."
     "I haven't been sleeping very well." she admitted
reluctantly.
     "Want to talk about it?" it was a simple offer and she knew
he wouldn't be offended if she refused. But she was ready, now.
     "I think so." she turned her head to look at him, and he
lifted his to look her in the eyes. "Are you comfortable?"
     "This is great." he smiled crookedly.
     "It's got to be killing your back." she objected. "here,
let's do...this..."
     She lay back against him further, and he had to shift to the
center of the bed to accommodate her. Now she lay between his
wool-clad legs, head still on his chest, his back supported by
her pillows.
     "How's that?"
     "Not bad." he said, hoping she didn't notice the erection he
was getting. Close contact with her always had this effect on
him, and her butt was right up against his crotch.
     She probably noticed. So he hoped it didn't frighten her or
make her nervous.
     "Okay." she sighed and closed her eyes again.
     He waited a few minutes.
     "Scully?"
     "Mmmm?"
     "Did you get me into this position so you could go back to
sleep?"
     "No, I'm going to talk. I'm just gathering my thoughts."
     "Hm."
     She smiled at that little noise, then began to speak.
     "I was lucky, you know. That he didn't kill me. He had my
gun and I was unconscious - he could have done anything."
     "I think what he did was bad enough." Mulder said softly.
     "But I'm alive, and I'm going to be okay. After the surgery
I can put this all behind me. I'll still be able to have children
and live a full life."
     "I'm behind you, Scully."
     "So you can just shove it on back."
     She was quiet for a few minutes and then he spoke up.
     "I don't think it's that easy."
     "What?"
     "I said I don't think it will be that easy. I'm a
psychologist, I know how hard something like this can be --
should be  -- to get over. If you go too fast you'll carry it
with you forever."
     "I'm going to carry it either way, Mulder." she sounded so
sad.
     "But it doesn't have to be the first thing in your mind
everyday. It doesn't have to keep you from living your life as it
was meant to be lived."
     "I didn't say I was going to let it do that." 
     "I'm just saying...in my professional opinion, you can't put
it behind you that easily."
     "I'm strong, Mulder. I can handle it."
     He hushed, holding her to him, letting her talk, about work
and her dog and her mom and a hundred other things that weren't
the subject at hand.
     There was no doubting it. Scully was in denial.

     He was with her when she woke up from the surgery, held her
head when she puked into a basin from the anesthesia, washed her
face when she broke into a sweat from the pain. Because it was
worse than she'd thought it would be, worse than he could
believe. It felt like what she imagined childbirth would feel
like, and it didn't stop for three whole days. The doctors said
it was the amount of work they'd had to do -- cutting and moving
and restitching parts of her cervix, vaginal walls, and external
genitalia to repair the damage and rebuild a normal passage.
     "You'll still be able to give birth normally." Dr. Levine
told her the next day as she struggled with the pain and waited
for the next shot. "All the original muscle was replaced. And
you'll be able to have sex again within three months."
     That wasn't too high on her list right now, Mulder imagined
as her hand gripped his, leaving white pressure marks across it.
     Frankly, it wasn't very high on his, either. He couldn't
stand the thought of ever making love to another woman. Even if
Scully found someone and got married, he would never want
another. He knew that now.
     Good thing he had all those tapes. After this Scully might
just decide to become a nun. She was Catholic, after all.
     
     Then she was better and released to come home. Over the
phone Skinner told her to take another week off to regain her
strength.
     When she left the hospital, Mulder on one side, Margaret on
the other, Dr. Levine gave her a small card with an address and
phone number.
     "This is the counseling group I was telling you about.
That's when we meet. I'm expecting you to be there."
     "She will be." Mulder and Margaret spoke up as one, then
smiled, she thoughtfully, Mulder nervously.
     "There's also a group for the men that meets in a different
room at the same time." Levine told Mulder. "I know you and Agent
Scully are only partners, but it might help you understand what
she's going through."
     He nodded.
     "If Scully wants me to go I will."
     "You don't have to, Mulder." she said. "You guys are making
a fuss about nothing. I'm fine."
     He stared at her, remembering all the times she'd said that.
     All the times she'd been lying.

Part#4
Grouping

     He came to pick her up right on time. She was wearing a
suit, looking as cool and collected as she had that day more than
three weeks ago.
     "Ready?" he asked, opening the door for her by leaning
across the seat. He'd had an urge to get out and do it, but knew
she wouldn't appreciate the chivalrous gesture, especially not
now.
     "As I'll ever be." she got in, put her seatbelt on. "Are you
going?"
     "If you have to I guess I should." he said noncommittally.
Actually, he was hoping he'd learn something about this - this
denial she was exhibiting.
     "You don't have to."
     "I want to." he insisted as he drove, quickly, smoothly.
"Besides, I don't want you driving yourself around yet."
     "Mulder..." her voice warned.
     "Allow me some vestige of chivalry." he objected to her
objection.
     She sat back, accepting this.

     "So that's your wife?" a small man, thin and dark, asked
Mulder as they waited for their shrink, watching the women walk
by, carrying cups of coffee. Scully smiled wryly at him.
     "No. She's my partner." Mulder said evenly.
     "One of those live-together things." the man nodded sagely.
"I got no problem with that."
     "Noo, she's my partner. I'm an FBI agent and she's my
partner."
     "Really?" another man spoke up. "My wife's a firefighter,
and the hardest thing for her was accepting that some guy could
overcome her when she was really fighting."
     "Scully's not very big." Mulder said. "But she's a crack
shot."
     "I just meant that I think it's harder for women in
traditionally male occupations to come to terms with this." he
paused. "With being raped."
     Mulder stared at him, angry that he'd said it aloud. Mulder
had never said it.
     "I'm Davis. I'm an accountant." the man, who gave the
general impression of calm blandness, held out his hand. Mulder
shook it. 
     "`An I'm Octavio." the swarthy man said. "My wife, Gena and
me, we run a deli. That's what happened. I left to go see our
boy, Grego, play in a ballgame, and Gena had to lock up, and this
asshole came in to rob her."
     "And it wasn't your fault." another man, tall and
distinguished, came in, wearing casual clothes. Two more men
followed him, took seats, making a small half-circle. "Hello. I'm
Doctor Baroudi. I'm glad to see you here."
     He sat down across from Mulder and Mulder settled back in
the chair. He didn't like shrinks and he didn't like being
psychoanalyzed.
     "You're the only new person tonight." Baroudi said. "Would
you like to introduce yourself?"
     "Special Agent Fox Mulder, FBI." Mulder said. "Also
psychologist."
     "I'm glad you're here, Agent Mulder. Should we call you
Fox?"
     "Just Mulder." he said shortly. Why was he doing this,
again?
      "Want to tell us why you're here?" Baroudi picked the words
from his mind.
     Mulder hesitated.
     "It won't help anybody if you don't."
     "It's not so bad." Davis said encouragingly.
     "My partner..." Mulder fumbled for words, something he never
did. Of course he almost never talked with other men, either. "my
partner, Agent Scully, was raped."
     "And you think it was your fault." Baroudi went right for
the heart of it. "Wait! Don't answer that yet - think about it
and we'll get back to you." he turned his attention to the
others.
     "Anybody want to talk about anything?"
     Octavio spoke up.
     "I did what you said, with my boy Grego, and it seemed to
help. He's still mad at me, but he's not hovering over his mother
so much this last week."
     "You know how hard things can be for teenagers. It's easier
for him to blame you than himself, and healthier, too. He'll get
over it. And how is Gena?"
     "She went out today with her sisters and got her hair done.
She hasn't done that since the attack."
     "That's a good sign. Davis?"
     The accountant shrugged. "She's in the bed, I'm on the
floor."
     "Why? She told you last week that she didn't want you doing
that anymore."
     "But I get into bed with her and she's afraid. I can feel
it." his eyes told Mulder how hard it was for him to see his wife
afraid of him. "I go to the sofa and she can't sleep without me
in the room. What am I supposed to do?"
     "Did you try lying down with her during the day? Fully
dressed, just to take a nap?"
     "I'm getting to where I need one." Davis shook his head.
"She wants to go back to work and I'm afraid it's to get away
from me."
     "She works three on, three off, right?"
     "Yeah. Three nights away from me at a time. I don't know if
she'll ever come back." he looked close to tears.
     "You've got to tell her that." Baroudi said. "Am I right,
Mulder?"
     "I only did my clinical." Mulder said. "I've never been in
private practice." he paused. "But that sounds right to me."
     "Me, too." the others agreed.
     "It's hard." Davis said.
     "Joe? How is Lisa?"
     "Pretty good, considering. Doc says the baby's going to be
fine, but she's scared. Really driving me crazy with all her
worrying."
     "Lisa lost a baby when she was raped six months ago." Davis
supplied for Mulder. "She's pregnant again."
     "Just let her worry and do what she asks." Baroudi said.
"After the baby comes she'll relax some. Harold?"
     "The trial starts Friday. She's terrified he's going to get
out and come back after her. She wants me to buy a gun, but I
said no, she's not in any condition to use it."
     Mulder nodded approvingly. So many cases involved frightened
people who shot their friends and family by mistake.
     "But I did say we could get a dog -- she wants a big one --
so we're going to go pick one out tomorrow if Dr.Levine thinks
it's a good idea."
     "A dog could make her feel safer when she's home alone."
Baroudi agreed. Then he turned back to Mulder, catching the look
on his face. "So how are you doing, Mulder?"
     "I'm fine. I wasn't the one hurt."
     "Have you and Agent Scully been partners for very long?"
     "Four years."
     "It's a very dangerous profession. Have you saved her life?"
     "Not as many times as she's saved mine."
     "And that just makes you feel worse because you didn't save
her this time." Baroudi looked shrewd and Mulder's face froze up.
The others noticed, giving each other knowing looks.
     "What happened to your last partner?"
     Mulder smiled, sarcastically.
     "He didn't die, if that's what you're getting at. I've had
several partners. They all left because they couldn't work with
me."
     "And she can?"
     "Surprisingly enough." Mulder deadpanned.
     "Do you think she's going to quit the agency because of
this?"
     "It didn't happen in the line of duty. It was just a stupid
case of bad timing."
     "Have you caught the guy?" Harold asked.
     "Not yet." the words were so bitter Baroudi stared at him.
     "Do you want to talk about that?"
     "No." Mulder snapped. "I don't want to talk about any of
this. All I want is to know what to expect from Scully and how I
can help her."
     "Does she have a first name?" Davis asked, trying to make a
joke of it and failing.
     "Dana." he said shortly.
     "Dana." Baroudi watched Mulder as he said it, noticed the
tightening of his jaw. "But you call her Scully."
     "She's my partner." 
     "Not your wife." Baroudi agreed. "Or your lover...right,
Mulder?"
     Mulder was silent.
     "Everything you say here is confidential." Baroudi said
softly while the others almost held their breath -- Mulder looked
on the edge of violence.
     "I don't record. I don't take notes. I don't even write
reports." Baroudi continued.
     "Do you have an eidetic memory?" Mulder asked sharply.
     Everyone but Davis looked confused.
     "Photographic." Baroudi supplied. "No, Mulder. Do you?"
     "Yes." Now Mulder leaned forward, folding in on himself.
"You don't know what it's like, not to be able to forget
anything."
     There was a minute of silence as the others watched him pull
himself together. The violence was gone, replaced by a blank mask
of control. Baroudi sighed. He didn't think he'd ever seen a
control as complete as that.
     "Scully and I have been lovers." he said flatly. "Twice. the
last time was fourteen months and three days ago."
     "You keep count?" Joe was startled. This guy was weird.
     "Was that a good experience?" Baroudi pried carefully and
was rewarded by a crack in Mulder's mask as he smiled, a tiny
upturn of his lips and his answer sang through him.
     "Yes."
     "So why aren't you together?" Harold asked, confused. 
     "Are you in love with her?" Davis was concerned.
      "She's my partner. Our work is very important to both of
us. One of us would be transferred, our department might be shut
down. It's not worth it."
     "You can find other jobs." Baroudi pointed out.
     "Not like this one." the look on his face was enigmatic, and
Baroudi decided to change the subject. "Has she had other
boyfriends since than? Has she ever been married?"
     "No and no." Mulder hesitated, not wanting to expose
Scully's privacy any more than he had to. "That's why...the
doctor said...he said that was why she was hurt so bad -- because
she hadn't been having sex...the guy was big...and Scully's not
very big..." he couldn't say anymore. He could tell the others
understood, by the expressions of pity and disgust on their
faces. Baroudi sighed.
     "That's very sad, Mulder. Is she going to be okay?"
     "Yeah." he said softly. "Her body's okay. And her heart will
be, too, if I --" he shut his mouth like a trap.
     "If you can do the right thing?" Baroudi prodded. "If you
can say the right thing, every time? Mulder, you should know
better than that. No one can do that."
     Mulder remained stubbornly silent.
     "Okay." Baroudi said softly. "I think that's enough for you
tonight.
     "No, wait." Mulder said. "Tell me what to do. She's going
home tonight for the first time, at her apartment. I'm driving
her there. Should I offer to stay?  Should I leave her alone?"
     "Was she raped in her apartment?"
     "It was a parking lot."
     "Your Scully sounds like a strong woman, Mulder." Davis
said. "If I were you I'd do whatever she wanted you to."
     "Look who's talking." Mulder retorted without heat.
     "He's right, Davis." Baroudi smiled.
     Davis grimaced. "Okay. I'll sleep in the bed."
     "She'll stop being afraid after a couple of nights. A week
at the most." Baroudi encouraged him. 
     "Just do what she wants me to." Mulder said. "What if I
can't?"
     "I don't think there's anything you wouldn't do for your
partner, Agent Mulder." now Baroudi smiled at him.
     "I didn't say won't." Mulder snarled. "I said can't." he
started up from his chair, his jacket loose, shoulder holster
visible. The other men stared at it and he sat back down
abruptly.
     "Would you like to stay and talk with me in private after
this session?" the doctor offered quietly.
     "No." it was barely above a whisper. "I have to take Scully
home."
     "Okay." Baroudi turned his attention back to the other men,
his mind working on the puzzle of Agent Mulder. Apparently he
wasn't a very stable individual. Of course, that could be the
result of current events, but the trouble finding a partner
suggested otherwise. There was a lot of pain weighing this man
down, and his partner's rape was only the tip of the iceberg.
     He wished he would come back and talk to him, but he knew he
wouldn't.

     "Here we are." Mulder stopped the car, turned it off, and
waited.
     Scully looked out at the night darkness, broken by bright
streetlamps.
     "I never realized it was this dark at night." she said
softly.
     "I can take you back to your mother's, Scully." he said.
"You don't have to do this yet."
     "Yes I do." she said, opening her door. Mulder followed her,
getting her suitcase out of the trunk. He'd come over to get some
of the things in it for her when she needed them.
     "How did the session go?" she asked as they went up the
stairs.
     "It was interesting." he said.
     "Mulder. Tell me you didn't shoot anyone."
     "Nope." 
     "Hit anyone."
     "Nope."
     "Yell at anyone."
     "I might have yelled." he allowed.
     "Mulder. What am I going to do with you?" she asked as he
unlocked the door and went in, turning on lights as he went.
     "Let me sleep on your couch." he said over his shoulder as
he disappeared into the bedroom with her case.
     She followed him. He was unpacking for her, putting things
away as neatly as she would have.
     "You don't have to do that."
     "I don't mind." It was such an understatement he could
barely get it out.
     He finished unpacking and put the suitcase in the bedroom
closet, right where she kept it.
     "You know me so well." she smiled.
     "I'm going to order out for dinner and then we're going to
watch a movie and then you're going to get some sleep." he said,
looking down at her as she faced him. The urge to reach for her
was so strong his hands actually moved a couple of inches before
he caught himself.
     "I think I'll take a shower before the food gets here." she
said, breaking the spell she probably wasn't aware of.
     Can I come with you? he thought, meaning it in every
possible way.
     "What?" she turned and looked at him.
     "Thai, Chinese, or Pizza?" he said quickly. Had he said the
other out loud?
     "Chinese." she smiled and went back into the bedroom,
leaving him to sigh with relief. No, I was just thinking too
loud.
     He ordered chinese.

     Dana stood under the hot water of the shower for a very long
time. It seemed like she just couldn't feel clean anymore. She
understood why, understood the psychology of it, but that didn't
change how it felt.
     Mulder was being so normal. Okay, nicer than normal, but
essentially normal. She'd been so worried he blamed himself for
what happened, and it seemed like she'd worried over nothing.
Just like her mother, always looking at her with concern when she
thought Dana wouldn't notice. 
     She stepped out of the shower at last, with a sigh of
relief. It was so good to be home, where her mom couldn't hover.
And she wasn't going to let Mulder do it, either. He could stay
tonight, to make him feel better, but that was it.
     
     The empty take-out boxes cluttered her coffee table, and
'Steel Magnolias' was winding to an end.
     "I hope you didn't rent that three weeks ago." Scully said.
She was sitting on the sofa, in a long red T-shirt and socks.
Mulder was on the floor, his back against the sofa, long legs
stretched beneath the coffee table, head laid back. He'd taken
off his jacket and tie, unbuttoned the top button and rolled up
his sleeves. His shoes sat by the recliner.
     She stared at him, thinking that she didn't often see him
this relaxed.
     "I bought it. I was going to give it to your mother as
payment for dinner."
     She smiled.
     "That was sweet of you." she was so glad her mother had
taken Mulder under her wing. He'd needed a mother's love for a
very long time. At least twenty-five years. "You can give it to
her next time."
     "No, I think I'll keep it." he said quietly. "I'll get her
another copy." 
     There was quiet as the credits rolled and the screen went
dark.
     "I'm going to bed." she said at last, standing up. She
stepped over him and he had a glimpse of rose-colored satin.
     A sudden, desperate desire to touch her struggled in him and
he compromised with himself, merely touching her leg as she
gathered up the trash.
     She jumped, then scolded herself.
     "Sorry." she smiled at him.
     "I can get that." he said softly. In the near-darkness of
the room she could have sworn his hazel eyes were glowing gold. 
     "Okay." she agreed, not sure why she was suddenly so
uncomfortable. 
     He removed his hand and watched her as she walked down the
hall, reaching for the remote.
     "Goodnight Scully." he called after her.
     "Goodnight, Mulder." she called back.
     He found an old war movie on while he listened to her moving
around the room and finally be quiet, and then he watched it,
still listening.    

     Maybe it was the stress of the last few weeks. Maybe it was
the chinese food. Or maybe it was because he was in Scully's
apartment, and Scully was there.
     Then again, maybe it was to avoid thinking or remembering.
     Whatever the reason, Mulder fell asleep on her couch.  

     Lying on her side, curled into a tight ball on her bed,
covers twisted around her, Scully dreamed.
     She could feel his weight pressing her down, feel the
pressure of his hands on her exposed parts, feel the slickrough
surface of the pavement beneath her bleeding nose, taste the
blood in her mouth.
     Her arm cracked with a blinding pain that left no room for
breath and she tried to scream, but something was in her mouth.

     Mulder sat suddenly. He always woke quickly, but it took him
a few seconds to adjust and remember where he was.
     He heard the sound again, the one that had cut through his
exhausted deep sleep to touch his heart and wake him.
     Scully.
     A whimper...a whisper of sound. Her voice coming from a dark
place.
     He went to her room, afraid to go in, afraid not to.
Standing indecisively outside the half-open door, he heard it
again and his heart clenched, a fist of pain in his chest.
     Do what she wants me to. What would Scully want him to do?
     Screw it.
     He went in, looked around the room. Everything was fine,
normal, except for Scully, twisting slowly on the bed, caught in
the throes of a nightmare. They both had them, but this one was
worse than the others, because it wasn't shared.
     It was something only she had suffered.
     Approaching quietly, he sat on the edge of the bed and
reached to stroke her face, trying to wake her gently.
     She threw herself away from him, eyes suddenly wide with
fear, and he struggled to restrain himself, to keep from reaching
for him.
     "Scully." he whispered, then a little louder. "Scully. It's
me. It's okay."
     She stared at him, dream images mixing with the reality of
her dark room.
     Without warning she opened her mouth and screamed as she
hadn't been able to that night.
     Mulder flinched, but made no move to stop her.
     She screamed again, filling her lungs without pause and
splitting the air with the sound of her terror.
     Before she could do it again he turned on the bedside lamp.
The pool of soft light helped her recover her senses and now she
simply stared at him.
     "Scully." Mulder looked at her. She didn't seem to see him.
"Scully." he reached to touch her arm with one gentle hand,
resting it lightly, almost not touching.
     She looked at him, and then down at her arm, and back at
him.
     "Mulder?"
     Hr voice was that of a lost child and his heart broke again.
There were so many pieces of it now he knew he'd never fix it
now.
     "I'm here, Scully. It's okay." he scooted a little closer,
not wanting to frighten her.
     She moved suddenly, away from him, then stopped and seemed
to gain control of herself, actually looking at him now.
     "I had a nightmare." she said softly. Her voice sounded like
it hadn't been used in a long time.
     "Yeah." his was soft, begging, really. Let me hold you, let
me help you, don't shut me out..."You okay now?"
     She shook her head, trying to clear it. She could have sworn
she heard him say something else..."I guess so. Thanks for waking
me."
     "It's not the first time." he said, a strange note to his
voice. And, of course, it wasn't. They had both had their
nightmares before, sometimes where the other could hear them,
wake them. On the road, in the car, it had happened. Before and
after that time fourteen months and three days ago. "Do you want
me to stay? I could...sleep on the floor." he suddenly understood
why Davis had done that willingly, even gratefully. To be close
to the woman you loved, even if you couldn't touch her...it was
something. Not enough, but nothing could ever be enough.
     She smiled, looking tired and tousled and so very
vulnerable.
     "You don't have to do that." He held his breath, hoping she
would suggest he stay in the bed with her, hold her again, no
matter what kind of problems that might cause..."I'll be okay
now. Go back to the living room and sleep on the couch. That's
where you're comfortable."
     I'm comfortable anywhere you are. He clamped his lips
tightly together, astonished at how close he'd come to actually
saying the words.
     "Okay." he stood, looking down at her. "Do you want
anything? A drink of water?" Can I tuck you in and kiss you
goodnight?
     "I'd like that." she said, and bent to straighten the covers
while he went to the kitchen and poured a glass of cold water
from the filter-pitcher in the fridge. When he got back she was
back under the covers, everything neat and tidy, sitting up on
several pillows. He handed her the water and stood while she
drank it all.
     "Okay?" he asked.
     "I'm fine, Mulder. Don't fuss." she said.
     "Okay." he walked to the other side of the bed and reached
for the lamp, but she stopped him with her eyes. Looking at her,
he pulled his hand back and left it on.
     "Good night, then." he said softly, watching her.
     "Good night, Mulder." she closed her eyes and lay back
against the covers.
     He actually made it to the couch, where he spent the rest of
the night remembering breathing. In, out. In - out. In-and-out.
There was a pattern to it, a rhythm he seemed to have forgotten.
     And he never forget anything.

     He stayed the next night. And the next. And then the week
was gone and he was still sleeping at Scully's. She didn't say
anything about it. There was this distance between them that
couldn't be crossed, words that couldn't be said. She never said
"Don't stay." He never said "I need to."
     Instead he took her to dinner, or ordered in, and they
watched movies or TV or he beat her at Scrabble. And then she
went to bed and he watched some more TV or read something dry and
boring.
     His trips home were limited to that thirty minutes in the
morning while she was getting dressed. He ran home, showered,
changed clothes, and grabbed breakfast on the way back. The
mornings were best for her, that was when she felt safest, most
in control and capable.
     He dropped her at her mom's and went to work.
     When he walked into the small room at the crisis center, it
was possible he might need to talk more than he had the last
time. 
     If nobody said anything.
     If nobody looked at him wrong.
     If nobody breathed funny.
     Dr.Baroudi watched him come in and sighed. This was worse
than he'd thought.
     He had called in a couple of favors and gotten a rundown of
Mulder's history from an old classmate. He would have liked to
see the file, but this was enough to tell him that this man was a
bomb looking for a terrorist to set him off.
     And that, possibly, his partner was the terrorist.
     "Agent Mulder." he greeted him quietly as he came in, late,
the others were all there. "How are things with you?"
     His grin was so full of self-mockery, so grim, so painful it
hurt just to see it. Baroudi could hardly gauge the level of pain
a strong man would have to feel to smile like that. And he
already knew Fox Mulder was a strong man. He had to be, he'd
survived everything that had happened to him so far.
     But everyone has a limit. A point where it becomes
impossible to absorb anymore pain.
     Had Mulder finally reached that point?
     And what could be done to bring him back?
     "I'm still on Scully's couch." Mulder's flat voice brought
him back to the present.
     "You're staying at her apartment?" Davis asked, the words
full of understanding, making Mulder shudder.
     "Every night."
     "Why?" Baroudi needed to know his reasons before he could
help him.
     "So I can wake her from nightmares. Bring her water. Mess up
her living room." Smell her on the towels.
     Looking at him, Baroudi would have assumed he was a very
neat man, but perhaps not.
     "Have you talked about anything?"
     "Movies. What to have for dinner. Which suit I should wear."
     "She picks your suits?" Harold sounded amused. "Are you sure
you aren't married?"
     "No way a woman picked that tie." Davis spoke up with a
grin, lightening the atmosphere.
     Mulder fingered it, a vivid wash of blue-and-orange-and
black paisley.
     "You don't like my tie?" there was a sense of humor there,
and they all smiled a little to hear it.
     "That's a god-awful tie." Joe supplied.
     "You should have seen the one I wore yesterday." Mulder
didn't seem at all offended.
     "Mulder, what did you give Dana last year for Christmas?"
     Mulder hesitated. "Still trying to understand the
relationship, Baroudi? Don't bother. I can't."
     "And you're probably smarter than I am." Baroudi said aloud.
"I understand that, Mulder. You're probably one of the smartest
people I've ever met."
     "You see what good it's done me." Mulder snorted. "I
couldn't even pick her a present last year. It took me three
months."
     "So what'd ya get her?"
     "A Pats sweatshirt and a video."
     "What was the video? Some girl movie?" Davis asked
curiously.
     Mulder's face opened a little and the self-mockery was so
plain the other men cringed inwardly, all of them afraid of that
pain. 
     "Bimbos on the Beach."
     "You gave her a skin flick?!" Harold seemed appalled, and so
were the others when they realized he was right.
     Mulder's smile widened, spreading across his face like a
disease. 
     "Hey. She's my partner. I was trying not to be sexist."
     Baroudi decided it was time to focus on somebody else. He
wasn't going to let Mulder use this session to beat up on
himself. He was pretty sure the tall agent did enough of that
already.

     "So how are you, Dana?" Dr.Levine turned her attention to
the petite redhead, studying the casual clothes, jeans and
sweater and high-heeled boots. No makeup, no jewelry.
     "Not so good." Dana was willing to talk to these women,
willing to share her fears and worries, but she'd held back so
far. 
     She didn't know how to talk about Mulder.
     "Tell us about it."
     Dana settled herself, hands tight together in her lap,
feeing just a twinge of the most recent pain, from the surgery.
     "I haven't been able to sleep well."
     "That's to be expected. Have you gone back to work yet?"
     "Monday. I think Mulder's more worried about it than I am."
     "Your partner, right. Why do you think he's worried about
it?"
     "He's been at my apartment every night this week."
     "That's very considerate of him, to check on you like that."
Dr.Levine said. "Does it bother you when he's like that?"
     Dana looked up. "No, you don't understand. He's been at my
apartment. Every night. On my couch."
     There was a silence as that sank in, and then the doctor
asked the important question.
     "Do you want him there?"
     And Dana gave the important answer.

     "Yes."
     "Then why is this a problem?"
     Dana paused, gathering her thoughts, wondering how much she
could reveal safely, how much she could say before she had to
acknowledge things she wasn't ready to say out loud.
     "It's - it's not, really. It's just that I can't seem to do
anything about it."
     "Have you asked him not too?"
     "I want him to stay." she said, a little fiercely. "Mulder
would never do anything I didn't want him to do."
     The other women, six of them, were watching with undisguised
curiosity. They wanted to understand this relationship, this
woman who was so different from most of them. Small, fragile-
looking, she stood alongside the men and fought the dangerous
ones to a standstill. And this man, the one who was sleeping on
her couch every night, stood beside her, watched her back, and
let her.
     Linda spoke up. She understood, a little bit, what Scully
had with Mulder. She shared it, too, with the  men in her
firehouse. She was closer to some than to others, but they all
knew to let her go her own way and do her job.
     "I think the real question is, Dana, do you want him to do
anything else?"
     Dana shrugged, tears filling her eyes.
     "I just want to stop being afraid. I've never been a
shrinking violet, and now I feel like such a wimp. Mulder must
think I'm a baby."
     "Does it matter what he thinks?" Levine.
     "Of course. How can he trust me to watch his back if I'm
afraid? How can he let me do what I have to if he's afraid for
me?"
     Levine smiled at that reasoning. "Haven't you ever gone into
a situation afraid? Haven't you ever known he was afraid for
you?"
     Dana raised her hands, rubbed them over her pale face,
didn't answer from behind them.
     "Of course you have." Levine said softly. "And I'm sure he
has. Tell me about the scariest thing that ever happened to you,
Dana. The most frightening thing that ever happened to you and
your partner."
     Dana lowered her hands and looked at Levine, then around the
circle at the other women, hesitating.
     "It's okay, Dana." Linda encouraged, her warm eyes lending
strength.
     "We don't usually talk about things..." Dana started, then
stopped. "Mulder and I. They happen and we deal with them, but we
never talk about them. I've listened to his nightmares, through
hotel walls, and he's listened to mine, but we never talk about
things. He calls me and wakes me up when he knows I'm having
one."
     Levine; "But you don't talk about them."
     "No. We don't talk about them."
     "To anyone."
     "Who would I talk to? Most of the stuff we deal with is so
unbelievable...I don't want to frighten my mother, and my friends
have all moved on. They have boyfriends, husbands, families,
lives."
     "What do you have, Dana?" Levine's voice was soft. "What do
you have?"
     Dana looked straight at her, her eyes filled with sorrow and
loss and sadness.
     "I have a search for the truth." 
     She paused.
     "And I have Mulder."
     Levine asked the hard question for her, before Dana could
actually let it into her mind.
     "Is that enough?"
     There was no judgement. If Dana said it was enough, then it
would be enough.
     "It used to be."
     Linda spoke up, moving restlessly. "I'm not clear on your
relationship with your partner Dana. Is there something else
going on here?"
     Levine waved her to silence.
     "You don't have to answer that, Dana." she said soothingly.
"Let's go back to my other question. Tell us about the scariest
thing you shared with Mulder but didn't talk about it."
     "Talk about it now." Renee`, a thin blond woman spoke up
beside Dana, offering support.
     "It'll be okay." Gena, a matronly Italian mama added.
     Dana looked at them, took a deep breath.
     They waited patiently as she gathered her thoughts for a few
minutes.
     And she began.
     "So many terrifying things have happened. But I remember the
worst. And I remember why it was the worst."
     She paused and they waited while she tried to find a way to
explain it, to explain what Modell could do and did.
     "There was this man -- he had a tumor. A brain tumor. Once
in a blue moon, a thing like that in your brain can change it.
Make it stronger. And Modell's mind was very strong." she paused,
looking to see how they were taking this. They look interested,
not skeptical. "I can't explain how he did it, but he could take
over a person's mind and force them to do what he wanted."
     There were several gasps and sighs, but Dana just stared at
Levine and continued talking.
     "He wanted Mulder, because Mulder is smart -- a genius. He
wanted Mulder to play a game with him. So he took an entire
hospital wing hostage so Mulder would have to."
     More gasps, several women looking nervous. Levine help up
her hand for silence, and Dana continued, looking at Levine, her
eyes steady.
     "Mulder went in alone. Modell wanted him, not me. But then
Modell took him hostage and I had to go in after him.  I had to."
her words, though soft, rang with conviction. 
     Then she was silent.
     "Dana?" Levine asked softly.
     "The next part is a little hard to believe." Dana hedged.
     "It's all hard to believe!" Linda said loudly, breaking the
spell, and the others agreed with relief.
     "Do you want to tell us the rest of it?"
     "I'd like to tell somebody." Dana sighed. "I've been
carrying it around inside me so long."
     "Then we'll listen." Levine sat back as if  a decision had
been made.
     Dana waited a minute, then began again.
     "He had Mulder in a hospital room. There was a man in there,
on life support. They were sitting at a table, Modell and Mulder.
Modell had a gun he took from a security officer. Mulder had left
his outside so Modell couldn't use it against him. So had I." she
paused. "Modell wanted Mulder to play russian roulette."
     More quiet reactions, Levine making shushing motions.
     "He gave Mulder first shot at him, but the bullet wasn't in
the chamber. Then he made Mulder turn the gun on himself. I
yelled -- "Mulder, NO!" rang suddenly in her memory and she saw
again his grimace as he ducked his head, barrel to the temple and
pulled the trigger -- but he did it. He put the gun to his head
and pulled the trigger, without hardly a fight. I was terrified
he was going to blow his brains out right there in front of me.
Then the barrel clicked and he tried to put the gun down. But
Modell had another idea."
     "He wanted Mulder to shoot you." Levine saw where this was
going.
     "Yes. He said I had to play to. He told Mulder that he'd get
another chance at Modell after my turn." she paused, tears
beginning to run slowly down her face. "Mulder looked so scared.
He almost started crying. He fought it, as hard as he could, I
could see it. He pointed the gun at me, and told Modell he was
going to kill him." her voice dropped to a whisper as she
continued, "He told me to run and he whispered my name..." she
couldn't finish.
     "What happened?" Linda demanded.
     Dana shrugged.
     "I saw the fire alarm behind me in the mirror over the bed,
ran and pulled it while Mulder fought his control. The alarm
broke Modell's concentration and Mulder shot him."
     "My God." a woman's voice breathed beside her. Levine
pressed a tissue into her hand, and she wiped her face with
trembling hands.
     "That's incredible."
     "That would scare me." Levine said softly. "So why don't you
and Mulder talk about it?"
     "He just doesn't talk about things. Mulder's not...not a
very happy person most of the time. He hurts so much, for so many
things, and he covers it up with humor and his intelligence."
     "Uses it to protect himself."
     "Yes." Dana agreed. 
     "What would you ask him if he would talk about it?" Levine
sat back again, seeing Dana gather herself.
     "I'd ask him why he didn't fight when Modell told him to
shoot himself, but fought so hard when he tried to make him shoot
me."
     "You gotta know that." Linda said with a half-hearted grin.
"It's obvious he loves you."
     "It's not that obvious." Levine scolded. "Why do you think
he did that, Dana?"
     "Mulder scares me sometimes, he seems so close to the edge.
Sometimes it seems like I'm the only thing that pulls him back.
Me, and the work. I've sat in out office and watched him when he
thought I wasn't. He sits at his desk, reading files, working on
the computer, and he plays with a razor blade. Twirls it between
his fingers, almost absently. But I know what he's thinking
about. And I know I can't do anything to stop it."
     "Your partner is suicidal?" Levine seemed surprised by this
revelation.
     "Not all the time. But I can't always predict what will push
him that way and what won't. He doesn't share things with me, not
those things. I just have to watch and notice them."
     "The FBI allows him to work like that?" Linda sounded
surprised. "The Chief watches us really carefully for that sort
of thing and helps us if it happens."
     Dana smiled dryly. "The FBI allows its agents to do anything
as long as it gets the job done. And Mulder's obsessions make him
a very good agent. One of the best. We have a high case
clearance, one of the highest. He's driven, but he directs it
into his work."
     "And where does that leave you, Dana?"
     "On the outside. Looking in. Wanting to help him, but he
won't let me. Won't even admit anything's wrong, ever."
     "And how does that make you feel?"
     "Alone. Sometimes abandoned. I need to talk to him, but..."
     "You can talk to him, Dana. Can you make him listen?"
     "I want him to talk back." Dana said slowly, understanding.
"I don't just want to talk to him."
     Levine paused, then patted Dana's hands.
     "Have you ever considered that you might be in love with
him?"
     Dana closed her eyes, Mulder's face looming in her mind, how
he'd looked when he kissed her, when he took her to him...then
opened them slowly.
     "I know I am. I have been, for a long time."
     That admission got absolute silence from the others.
     "And what are you going to do about it?" Levine said at
last.
     "There was a time - a little over a year ago - that I
thought we'd gotten through that barrier. He came to me and I...
I took him to my bed. But he said it could only happen that one
time. Never again."
     "Was it so bad he's afraid to try again?" 
     Dana smiled a little, and her voice was filled with the
delight of the memory.
     "Noooo. It was great. He was wonderful." 
     "Because of the work." Levine understood. Dana nodded, the
glow fading.
     "Because of work, and because of Mulder. He's so terrified
of losing someone else in his life -- he's lost everybody,
sister, father, mother -- that he won't take the chance."
     "Your partner sounds like a man who needs you very much."
     Dana smiled for real, her voice breaking.
     "He's told me, a little, what I do for him, and I can see
the rest. I'm his balance, his voice of reason, his anchor. I
don't think he'd be alive today without me, and I know he feels
the same."
     "You're not talking about protection on the job, are you?"
Linda ventured. Dana shook her head.
     "I'm talking about his life."
     "So what happened to you hurt him very badly."
     They were back to the rape now. Dana hadn't talked about it
much. She sighed.
     "I feel like such a wimp. Letting him stay at my place,
sleep on my couch, take care of me. I can't let this go on, not
after I go back to work. It's too hard, keeping away from him
when he's so close."
     "And being together is out of the question?" Linda asked
curiously.
     "I don't think he's ready." Dana said.
     "Will he ever be ready or will you have to push him?" Levine
asked. "What will you do if he's never ready, Dana? Are you
willing to go on like this until one of you dies?"
     "Forever? No." Dana sighed. "I can't go on like this
forever. But nothing has pushed me to make a decision before
this."
     "What do you want, Dana?"
     "A life. A man who loves me and work that challenges me. A
family."
     "Is Mulder the one who can give you those things?"
     "I don't know. But I do know that I can't leave him to find
them and let him quietly self-destruct without me."
     "You aren't responsible for his actions, Dana."
     "When you love someone you don't want them hurt." Dana
answered. "You don't want to hurt them."
     Levine handed her another tissue as tears welled again.
     "My advice to you, Dana, is to make the break. Not
completely, but at least get some space between you so this isn't
so painful. Get him out of your apartment and back into his and
put your relationship back on a professional footing."
     "We are friends." Dana said. "We'll always be friends."
     "But having him stay with you is bringing things up that
apparently neither of you want to talk about." Levine said
softly. "And maybe neither of you are ready to talk about them.
But if he stays much longer, I think you're going to have to."
     "But I'm afraid to be alone." Dana admitted, eyes filled
with tears. "And I hate being afraid."
     "Strong women usually do." Levine smiled, then looked at the
clock. "We've gone a little over tonight, ladies, the man must be
waiting."
     "I'm sorry I monopolized the time." Dana said, wiping her
face again.
     "No, don't be." Linda said.
     "It's like a great opera." Gena spoke up, smiling at her in
sympathy.
     "Like a sad poem." Renee` agreed. The others murmured their
assent as they gathered up their bags and purses.

     Going into the hall, they let Dana go first, by unspoken
consensus, and watched eagerly when she stepped out and her
partner saw her. They saw his eyes go to her face, where her eyes
were reddened from crying, and saw his hands clench and jaw
tighten. Then the tension flowed out of him when she smiled at
him, a wide, bright, you-should-know-what-I'm-thinking smile.
     He came up, nodded to them, and took her arm, gently.
     "Okay, Scully?" it was a simple question, but they were all
reading new meaning into it.
     "I'm fine, Mulder." she said. 
     He looked down at her, ignoring the audience. "Liar."
     She smiled again, less brightly, and he walked beside her,
one hand on the small of her back, not quite touching, and the
others watched them go, sighing.
     Ah, love. What a bitch.

Part#5
Falling mortar

     "You need to go home now, Mulder." Dana said, coming out of
the bathroom. He was relaxed on her couch, crunching sunflower
seeds, throwing the shells at a bowl and occasionally missing.
     "I'll clean it up." he said cheerfully.
     "No, you need to go home. I'll clean it up tomorrow." she
said, reaching to shake his leg.
     "A little higher." he suggested, grinning, but his eyes
suddenly closed off so she couldn't see what he was thinking.
     "Now, Mulder. I want to go to bed."
     "So go. I'll keep it turned low."
     "Mulder, your roaches are going to send out search parties
and I don't want them to find you here."
     He swung his legs off the couch, looking at her carefully.
     "You want me to go?"
     She nodded.
     "You want to be alone."
     She nodded again, watching the pain rise in his face. so
sorry to have caused it, but knowing this was best for both of
them.
     "okay, Scully." he said softly. "If you think you're ready."
He didn't mention that she had yet to get through a night without
a nightmare. Or how badly he wanted to stay. He just stood,
pulled on his jacket and shoes and gathered up the stuff he'd
brought over.
     Dana smiled and carried some dirty dishes into the kitchen.
He passed her as she went back to the living room, going into the
kitchen, and then back down the hall. She thought he was going to
the bathroom. Turning off the TV, she tidied the stack of
newspapers on the coffee table and turned off the lamp before
going to the bedroom.
     She stopped, startled to see him there, turning back the
covers. There was a large glass of water with lots of ice sitting
on the nightstand. He turned to her, suddenly nervous.
     "I just wanted to get you off to a good start." he said, the
shyness that had plagued him all his life obvious on his face.
     She gestured to the glass as she walked to the bed.
     "And that?"
     "In case you - wake up." he said.
     She climbed into the bed and didn't stop him when he reached
to pull the covers up to her shoulders, then handed her her cel
phone.
     "And this." he said.
     "In case I wake up." she looked at him, seeing something new
in his face. Some new resolve he would probably kill himself to
keep. "Thank you, Mulder. This is very sweet of you."
     He leaned down to tuck the covers more tightly.
     "I'll leave the hall light on." he said, his face close to
hers. 
     He was close enough to kiss her. She stared at his lips for
a second, seeing his eyes drop to hers, and closed her eyes.
     And felt the brush of his lips on her forehead, then a
sudden cool as he straightened and moved away from the bed.
     "Good night, Scully."
     She turned on her side, sighing as she replied.
     "Good night, Mulder."
     She listened and heard the door, heard the lock, and then
lay awake in the dark, the faint glimmer of the hall light not
enough to keep the demons at bay.

     Mulder spent the night watching TV and alternately urging
his phone to ring and begging it not to. Around five a.m. he
pulled out a video to watch, needing to relieve his tension.
Sprawled back on his couch, he touched himself and groaned while
the lewd images frolicked on the screen, but it wasn't enough.
Finally he got up, turned it off, and got into the shower,
turning the water on hot and leaning back against the wall,
closing his eyes and letting visions of Scully glide across his
aching mind.
     "Don't tease, Mulder." lying naked beside him, her hands
reaching for him. 
     "That feels so good." his mouth on her body, she squirming
beneath it.
     "Oh." becoming part of her, looking into her eyes and seeing
only passion and welcome.
      He shuddered as he came, his essence lost in the water,
shaking from the intensity of it, losing the strength in his
legs. Feeling himself start to slide down the tiled wall, he
braced a hand up and turned the shower hard over to cold. It took
a second to change and then he gritted his teeth and struggled to
keep from screaming as the frigid water hit him like a wall.
     Then he did yell. Once. Not a scream of pain or shock, but a

low cry of anguish as he fought for control of himself. 
     He would not lie down and cry.
     He would NOT.
     At last he felt his face relax, his breath slow, his chest
open again. Then he opened his eyes and stood again, turning off
the water and getting out, finding a clean towel and going to his
little-used bedroom to get clothes.
     It was dawn. He had work to do, and errands to run.
     He got dressed.

     Dana woke with a start, looking around the room anxiously.
She had finally dozed off around four, exhausted.
     Everything was fine. Early sunlight was coming in her
window.
     She sat and stretched, dropping the covers, then lay back
and considered what had woken her.
     She had been dreaming -- a nice dream. Warm and erotic, she
could remember it now as she thought of it. She and Mulder. The
sounds he had made as he touched her so gently, so hungrily.
     The way he had screamed her name as he gave himself to her.
     That's when she'd woken up. When he'd screamed, in her
dream.
     Smiling to herself, she pulled the covers back up and turned
over. Maybe if she went right back to sleep the dream would come
back.

     Mulder lay on his couch, the curtains pulled against the
fading light of day, the TV spilling popular music as he stared
at the ceiling unseeing.
     The song changed and the words of the new one seemed to beat
into his brain, driven by the eerie guitar work and the bitter
warmth of the young man singing.

     When all that's left to do
     Is reflect on what's been done
     This is where sadness breathes
     The sadness of everyone

     We took the dead man in sheets to the river,
     flanked by love
     Deep enough to dive
     Deep enough to die
     Be here now

     He looked up at the screen long enough for register the name
of the band. It seemed a good addition to his 'depression
collection'.

     We took the dead man in sheets to the river,
     flanked by love
     Deep enough to dive 
     Deep enough to die
     Be here now
     He glanced at the screen again.
     The name of the band was 'Live'.
     He managed to find a smile for that.

Part#4
Business as usual
     Her first day back was hard for Dana Scully. Everyone knew
what had happened, the investigation was ongoing. She got
sympathetic looks, encouraging smiles, and a few curious glances.
But she managed to ignore all of them.
     Just as Mulder managed to ignore her. 
     Not that he didn't speak to her, or talk to her. He did, a
lot, catching her up on all of their cases, telling her a funny
story about another agent, generally treating her much as he
always treated her.
     But he didn't touch her, not once. She looked over while
they were working and saw the razor blade. Not in his fingers,
gleaming on his desk beside his computer. His face was closed,
and she couldn't seem to really see his eyes.
     Skinner called her to his office and apologized sincerely
for the trouble they were having finding her attacker. He seemed
nervous and angry and out-of-sorts, and she smiled a little when
she left, realizing that he took her attack almost as personally
as Mulder did.
     He promised they would find the guy and punish him.
     "I just don't want him to hurt anyone else." she said
softly.
     "There hasn't been another attack with the same description
of the attacker since yours." he said.
     "Maybe he's waiting for it to cool off."
     "Maybe he's waiting to see how much you know." Skinner said.
"I wish you had gotten a good look at him."
     "No offense, sir, but I saw enough to last me a lifetime."
     He grimaced and closed the file.
     "Yes, Agent Scully. I suppose you did."

     Then she went back to their little basement office and
Mulder was on the phone, bugging some poor schmuck for
information about something.

     Gyles came by, gave them an update. The school files had
turned up three very good possibilities -- all fitting the
physical description, all with juvenile records for something --
"But they all have solid alibis." he finished lamely.
     "There have to be more than three tall blond men at that
school." Mulder objected.
     "We were concentrating on the ones with previous records."
Gyles said. "To narrow the search."
     "So widen it!"
     Dana laid a hand on his shoulder, surprised by the outburst.
Mulder was at his most controlled, it was unusual for anything to
get to him when he was like this.
     He stilled under her hand, every nerve in his body straining
toward that ethereal contact.
     "We have." Gyles finished quietly, looking at Scully
sympathetically. He respected Mulder's intelligence, didn't
listen to the gossip about his wild theories, and actually liked
the man personally -- not that Mulder would ever accept that. But
he could see that he could be an asshole to work with. "we're
checking all the files now. We'll find him. At least he hasn't
gone back to any of the victims, Agent Scully, so you don't have
to worry about a repeat attack."
     She smiled faintly. That had been one of her worries. Many
woman were attacked again by the same man, knowing they were hurt
and vulnerable from the first time. But these guys seemed to be
as pattern-steady as serial killers, very faithful to the way
they did things. If he hadn't attacked the others again, he
probably wouldn't come for her again either.
     Probably.

     Mulder followed her home in his car. Going up the stairs,
she couldn't help looking at him and wondering what he was
thinking. At the door he stopped and looked down at her, his eyes
slit hooded, his face masked.
     "Do you want me to stay for dinner?"
     Do you want me to stay the night?
     "No, I'm fine. I've got a lot of work to do. Got to catch up
with you -- can't have you getting ahead."
     "Don't push yourself, Scully." there was a warning in his
warm voice, roughened by the control he was exerting.
     Don't push me.
     "I won't." she said, opening the door and sighing. "Mulder,
I'm fine. Go home, go out and do something."
     "I'm going shopping." he said, suddenly. "There's a CD I
want to buy."
     She grimaced and waited for him to continue. When he didn't
she prodded gently.
     "Who's it by? A string quartet from Jupiter?"
     "A band called 'Live'."
     She smiled. "That sounds almost promising."
     His smile was feral. "Believe me, it's not."
     On those words he turned and went down the stairs, then
stood at the bottom until she shut the door and he heard the
deadbolt thunk.

     It was a peaceful evening for Dana. She was getting used to
being home alone again, and remembering that she liked it. It
wasn't so scary anymore. Her mother called and sounded received
that things were getting back to normal, though she did ask if
Fox was going to drop by.
     "Mulder, mom." she said affectionately. "You're supposed to
call him Mulder."
     "He never said so." Margaret Scully retorted lightly.
     Dana made an exasperated noise and said goodbye.

     Mulder listened to the new CD. He found it very much to his
liking. After the first runthrough he'd programmed it to two
songs. Now, the lights off, the room cold, he lay on the couch
and shivered, wearing only a pair of sweatpants, stubbornly
refusing to pull down the blanket he kept draped over the back.
Margaret had given it o him, not long after Scully recovered, to
replace the old one she called a disgrace.
     It was soft and warm and felt like black velvet -- she'd
known that no other color would do -- and he wasn't going to use
it tonight. Or turn down the air.
     No, he was going to lie here and suffer. And listen to that
new CD.

     And to love: a god
     And to fear: a flame
     And to burn a crowd that has a name.
     And to right or wrong
     And weak or strong
     
     It's known, just scream it from the wall.
     I've willed, I've walked, I've read
     I've talked, I know, I know
     I've been here before.
     And he did know. He had been here before. But he loved the
irony of the next line. It made it all seem somehow --
appropriate.

     Hey, now we won't be raped.
     Hey, now we won't be scarred like that
     He lay on his couch and shivered and listened to the songs,
over and over and over...until he couldn't feel it anymore.

     Dana went to bed late. Trying to catch up with Mulder was no
picnic -- his perfect memory made her so mad sometimes. He could
read something once and have it forever, at an instant's notice -
- but she had to work for it. Medical school had trained her's
pretty well, but it was still work.
     Well, at least he doesn't expect that from everybody, she
thought as she prepared for bed. The clock on the nightable said
2:05 in glowing red letters. Would he still be up?
     She picked up the cel phone and hit the speed dial. He
answered on the first ring.
     "Mulder. Scully?" he sounded half-asleep and she hoped she
hadn't woken him. He slept so little sometimes. "You okay?"
     "Yes, it's me, Mulder. I'm fine. I just thought you might
still be up. I didn't wake you, did I?" as she listened she heard
music in the background. It sounded like grunge. Not usually
Mulder's style.
     "I was just lying here."  thinking of you.
     "I'm going to bed. I just wanted to say good night."  that
sounded really stupid. She sighed audibly.
     "Miss me?" it was said with all the patented Mulder charm
and she had to laugh.
     "Yeah, I guess I got used to having you underfoot." or being
under you.
     "I could come over and mess up your living room if you like.
Scatter some sunflower seeds, drop a pair of socks..." and
everything I'm wearing.
     "Thanks, but I don't think that will be necessary." she
smiled into the phone and could feel him smiling on the other
end. "I'm off now."
     "Take the phone with you, Scully." he said, lying back again
on the couch. "Talk to me for a few minutes." don't leave me
alone here, in the dark, with this music.
     Feeling like a giddy teenager Scully took the phone to bed
with her. Mulder listened to the slight rustling noises she made
and had to bite his lip, hard, as he remembered a comment he'd
made another night, on the phone. That night he'd heard wet,
soapy noises and had asked "Scully, what are you wearing?" he
said before he could stop himself.
     "A black silk nightie." she said, teasing. It's really short
and..."  and if you were here I would take it off for you.
     She was rewarded with a groan. "You are not."
     "No, actually it's just another long cotton shirt."
     His mind tortured him with visions of her, clean and fresh
and sexy...are you wearing any panties?
     "Are you okay, Mulder?" she asked sweetly, and he could see
her smile.
     "Yeah." he managed. "I gotta go now..."
     "Sleep well." she said it so sweetly he knew that she knew
what she was doing to him.
     Oh, god, he thought. It must be pretty bad if my thinking is
that convoluted.
      Suddenly he was cold again. The numbness had evaporated,
and the music was just loud, angst noise.
     He couldn't stay here.
     He had to get out.
     He was in his car and driving before he realized he'd
decided to.
     
     Dana lay back, turning off the bedside lamp. She ran a hand
under her pillow and felt the gun there. it was her second gun,
her spare, and having it there made her feel a little more
secure. Her service was hanging in the bedroom closet, as always.
Too far to go if something happened.

     He waited. The woman had stayed up far too late, and his
back hurt, his shoulders were cramped, his legs going to sleep.
He'd heard the conversation with her partner and followed it
eagerly. So she was having an affair with him. Not that it
mattered to him. He'd take what he wanted and leave the G-man his
sloppy seconds.
     He waited a long time, to be sure she was asleep. It had
been harder than he'd thought to get into her apartment. Only the
maintenance man's carelessness had given him the chance that
afternoon. He'd come over after class, as he had a couple of
times before, and watched. The man had left the door open when he
went out to get a part for the sink, and he'd been able to d
slip right in before he came back.
     He'd been worried she might check her closets or
something,but, just as he figured, she was too tough for that.
She felt safe her. When he'd heard her partner ask if he could
stay he'd been worried, but he should have known that she wasn't
going to want a man right now. Not when she'd had him. She'd
never want another man again.

     Mulder drove quickly, parked in Scully's n looked down at
himself.
     He was wearing sweats and boxers. No shoes. No shirt.
     He'd probably scare her half to death.
     That was okay. He wasn't going to crash up there and wake
her. He just needed to be close to her. He didn't have to wake
her for that.
     He got out of the car, relishing the feel of a summer night
on his skin. Stretching, he walked around it a few times, and
then settled at the foot of the stairs, looking up at the sky.
His cel phone made a tempting bulge in his pocket. If he called
her and told her where he was, would she invite him up?
     She'd probably scold him and shoo him home, he thought
glumly.
     But that was okay. She just wanted to be close.

     He was very excited. He'd been wanting to do this for so
long. The other two girls, they had left school and he hadn't ben
able to go out to see them. It would've given him away, and
besides, he would have missed class. But she lived right here in
town and he was going to get to fuck her again. He remembered,
how small, soft she had been, and how tight. The tightest he had
ever felt. He had thought she was a virgin at first, but, no. How
could she be? An FBI agent. But she had been sooo tight.
     It was time.
     He opened the door, glad of the well-oiled hinges he had
noticed when he slipped in. The carpet of the hall muffled his
careful footsteps. For such a big guy he moved very quietly.
     She might have her gun. If she did he would just take it
away from her again and use it as he had the first time. He liked
them better after they were unconscious. Then he could do what he
wanted to them and they didn't object.
     She was lying on her side in the bed, sleeping peacefully,
tired. He had just stepped too far into the room to leave easily
when she moved.
     She sat up. Her hands came up. He couldn't see very well in
the darkness -- was she holding something.
     Scully's heart beat in terror. The looming shadow in her
bedroom brought memories back in a rush, all of them bad.
     "That better be you, Mulder." she said, trying to make it
sound light, because, of course, it had to be him. She would have
heard anyone else break in.
     He stood very still, sure she was going to shoot him, and
then decided to try and fool her. If her could just get a couple
of steps closer...
     "It's me, Dana." he whispered so quietly she couldn't have
possibly recognized the voice. "I just came to check--"
     He threw himself forward as he heard the click of the
trigger and the gun boomed in the room, suddenly so small.

     On the stairs Mulder leapt to his feet and tore up them,
screaming, suddenly terrified.
     "Scully! Scully! Scuuuulllly!" but there was no answer.
     Not bothering with his key he hit the door. It didn't give,
the deadbolt holding tight. His hands trembled so badly he could
hardly get the key in, reminding, in an insane flash, of another
door, and a dead woman on the other side, and a pair of handcuffs
holding him to her as he struggled with the key...
     Dana fired again. There was a stranger in her home! A man!!
Where had he come from?!
     She say tightly, watching the lump as it slumped at the side
of her bed. After a minute, when it didn't move, she dared to
breathe and reach for the light.
     Then the room was flooded with light as someone threw on the
overhead. She stuck the gun out, blinded by the sudden
brightness, and would have pulled the trigger if she hadn't heard
his voice as he stopped in the doorway, staring in horror.
     "Scully! It's me! Don't shoot!"
     With a gasp she lowered the gun and scrambled out of her
fouled bed to run into his arms. He was getting his phone out
when he caught her up, hugging her tightly to him with the one
while he called with the other.
     Bursting into tears, Dana clung to him and sobbed as he
called 911. Then he hung up and gathered her close to him,
lifting her in is arms, looking at the mess on her bed, her
carpet. The man was dead, of that he had no doubt. Scully had
nearly blown his head off.
     
     And hour and fifty minutes later he was watching the bag
boys drag the corpse out of the room, not even bothering with a
gurney. Skinner, pulled again from his bed in the middle of the
night, was watching them go with grim satisfaction.
     "We'll get an ID on him in the morning and notify his
family." he told Mulder, who was standing, Scully on the couch
directly behind him, taking a protective stance.  "How did you
get here so fast, Agent Mulder?" he surveyed his clothes with a
curious look.
     "I was already here." Mulder admitted.
     "On the sofa?" Skinner smiled tightly.
     "No, sir." Mulder met his stare and smiled back, just as
tightly. "On the stairs. She kicked me off the couch last
weekend."
     With a snort Skinner glanced at Dana, who seemed to be okay.
She was quiet, but okay.
     "Don't feel that you have to show up tomorrow, Agent
Scully." he said, his voice dropping, friendlier.
     "I'm fine, sir." she said faintly.
     "I mean it, Scully. Don't come in."
     "I won't let her, sir." Mulder spoke up firmly and Skinner
gave him a real smile.
     "I bet you won't ." he said, telling Mulder that he had no
doubt Mulder would do exactly what Scully wanted to do.
     "Try to rest." he told Dana. "It's over now. You can put it
behind you."
     He let himself out and Mulder sat beside Dana. In the harsh
light of the overhead fixture she looked drawn out, pale. 
     With a soft smile he reached for her hand, took it between
both of his.
     "hey." he said, and she looked at him. She'd stopped crying
quickly, but she was still on the verge of collapse. "What say we
get out of here?" 
     She nodded.
     "I'll just go get you some things, okay?"
     She shook her head, not wanting him to leave her, to go back
into that room.
     He nodded. "Then you can just borrow some of mine."
Standing, he pulled her to her feet, and led her to the door,
where he took her trench off a hook and wrapped it around her.
     "There. Now everybody won't stare." he said teasingly. She
didn't smile, but met his eyes for a minute, then let him lead
her to his car.

Part#5
Crumbling Mortar
                     
     He led her into his apartment and sat her on the couch,
going to turn on the lamp, the kitchen light. Not too much, but
enough to make her feel more secure. He was worried, she hadn't
spoken a word the whole long drive.
     Standing in front of the couch, he studied her. She looked
back, but there was something missing in her eyes. He knelt and
put his hands on either side of her.
     "You should take a shower." he said softly.
     She looked down at herself and he wished he'd cut his tongue
out long ago as she realized that she was covered -- with blood
and brains and bits of gore. Raising her hands, she found that it
was in her hair, too. He held his breath, waiting for hysterics,
but none were forthcoming.
     "Yuck." she said so softly, he had to strain to hear it. No
more loud music, he decided then and there. "You're right."
     "You know where it is." 
     She nodded, and got up, went to the bedroom and through the
door. He winced, knowing what a mess that room usually was, and
set himself to fixing it.
     After he'd changed the sheets and tidied the room he put a
kettle on. He'd bought it just so he could make her tea those
rare times she wanted it. Leaving two mugs and honey on the
coffee table,he went to dig through his drawers for something she
could wear tonight. Tomorrow he would call a cleaning service to
take care of her place and run by to get her some
clothes...there. This would do. He pulled out a Knicks T-shirt,
too big for him -- he'd thought it would shrink more -- and a
pair of soft flannel boxers. Women were actually wearing these
things by choice now. 
     He knocked on the door, and was greeted by a rolling cloud
of steam.
     "Scully?" 
     There was movement behind the shower curtain, but she didn't
answer. Concerned, he went into the small room and spoke to the
curtain.
     "Are you okay?" 
     There was still no answer. Suddenly afraid the medics had
been wrong and she had been hurt, he pulled the curtain open a
crack to peek at her.
     His partner was curled pathetically in a corner of the
shower, sobbing her heart out.
     "Oh, Scully." he breathed, Without another thought he
stepped into the shower and picked her up, holding her wet, nude
body next to his, relieved by his lack of response, which would
have been so inappropriate now.
     She turned her head to his bare chest and cried on him as he
turned off the water, balancing her delicately with an arm and a
knee, and then carried her out to the bedroom, grabbing a towel
to wrap her in on the way. He fell back on the bed, holding her
tightly to him, and lay still.
     She was still cry,having trouble getting air between the
sobs, her whole body shaking with it. At a loss, he touched her
hair, putting his face close to her ear, murmuring to her in his
gentlest, sweetest voice.
     "There, it's okay, Scully. He's dead, he can't hurt you
again. I'm here, I've got you and everything's going to be okay.
It's okay. Scully, Scully..." he found himself making a soft
chant of her name. Did she know how he felt about her? How could
she not? He just held her and stroked her hair and talked to her
in those warm, soft tones.
     At last her sobs began to taper off. As she loosened her
grasp of him he realized that he was hearing something, actually
had been for a while now. The piercing whistle of the tea kettle.
     He felt her now, lying quiet against him, even snuggling a
little closer. 
     "How about a cup of tea?" he suggested, raising his head to
look at her. Here eyes were swollen and red, her face looked
puffy, but she was clean and beautiful.
     "I'd like that." she whispered. He got up, going into the
bathroom to grab the clothes, and then gave them to her.
     "I'll get it and you can join me in the living room, okay?"
     She nodded, and he left, leaving the door open behind him so
she could call him if she needed to.    
     He was just pouring the tea into cups when she came out, and
he had to swallow an instant reaction of lust. Those clothes had
never looked that good on him.
     You asshole, he told himself. She's been raped once,
attacked again, and all you can think about is your dick?
     He shoved the reaction down relentlessly, knowing he had to
turn to her without any evidence of his wayward thoughts, and
managing, barely. 
     She sat on the couch and he handed her the cup, with just
the right amount of honey, he'd seen her make it so many times.
     Then he sat beside her and sipped his own, not really liking
it but needing something to do.
     The silence stretched between them until she broke it,
putting her cup down and looking at him. A vestige of her former
confidence seemed to be returning.
     "On the stairs, Mulder?" softly.
     "I couldn't sleep. I was making myself miserable." he
shrugged. She'd never condemned his behavior before and he knew
she wasn't going to start now. "It wasn't the first time."
     "It wasn't?" Now he regretted the unthinking admission. She
had a way of making his mouth say things that were never supposed
to touch his lips, just by looking at him.
     "No." he shook his head. No, it wasn't. No, don't go there,
Scully.
     She seemed to hear his unvoiced answer and accept it.
     "Are you tired?" he asked. She had to be, after pumping that
much adrenalin.
     "Yes. But I don't think I'll ever sleep again."
     "I know that feeling." he smiled sadly. "But you're stronger
than I am, Scully. You'll sleep again. In your own bed, even."
     She shook her head, disbelieving.
     "You can sleep in my bed tonight." he offered. She
understood the distinction. It wasn't a come on, but an offer. He
didn't sleep in his bed. Hardly ever.
     Looking at the back of the couch she reached to stroke the
blanket.
     "Is this the one Mom gave you?" she remembered Margaret
Scully saying something about the ragged condition of the other
one. She stroked the soft black depth.
     "yes." he was almost unable to restrain his reaction to her
stroking fingers.
     "It's nice." she said, and sighed. "I don't want to be alone
right now, Mulder."
     "Do you want me to call your mom?" 
     "No." she sighed again, and curled up in the corner of the
couch, pulling the blanket partially down over herself. "I want
to stay out here with you."
     "Okay." he said hesitantly. 
     He sat back, aware of her so few feet away, her head propped
on the arm of the couch, staring out into space. He reached for
the remote and she caught his arm.
     "Can we leave it off?" she asked, her eyes wide, the blue
filling his vision.
     "Anything you want." he said, putting it back down and
sitting back again.
     He sat there, and she closed her eyes. He watched her and
tried not to, wondering if he should hide in the bathroom for a
few minutes and ease the pressure he was feeling. It would make
it easier to deal with her. Scully under his blanket on his couch
in his underwear was just too much.
     Then he felt the delicate touch on his leg. His eyes flew
open and saw that her hand rested there, still.
     Slowly, he looked toward her, met her eyes with his own. All
his pain, all his fears, every longing he'd ever had for her
shone from those eyes.
     And hers were filled with a matching pain, a fresh fear, and
her need for him.
     She didn't have to ask him to hold her, now. He knew it was
the right thing to do, and he slid over to gather her close
again, burying his face in her hair, damp and smelling of his
shampoo. She smelled like him, but underneath it all was
something that was just Scully.
     He held her tightly and she held him back and he could
breathe again.

     "Mulder?" her voice came as a surprise. Still holding so
tightly, feeling her heartbeat smooth and finally beat with his
own, he had thought she would fall asleep.
     He tilted his head to look at her, her pretty face tucked
beneath his chin.
     Her mouth was so close to his.
     "Yes?"
     She smiled a little at him, but nervously.
     "I know we agreed that it would only happen that one time,
but I feel so...so..." she couldn't seem to find the words.
     "So - grateful? received? depressed? frightened?" he
supplied slowly, trying to get a smile as he gave her words to
use.
     "All of those." she sighed, and snuggled closer. Her butt
was firmly on his crotch and he wished that he had snuck into the
bathroom for a few minutes. "And more."
     She was looking at him again.
     "What else, Scully? Tell me what you're feeling." 
     With a tiny, nervous smile she raised her head from his
chest and brought it up so her lips were close to his. One hand
curled around the back of his neck.
     "Mulder." she sighed, her breath warming him inside-out.
"Call me Dana."
     He stared, his eyes changing colors in front of her. She
wouldn't have thought it possible, but she was watching it
happen. Grey to green to gold...he was watching her watch him and
she flushed pinkly.
     "Scully." he said, disbelieving. "Are you asking me to make
love to you?"
     "I wish you would." she said, her fingers tracing multiple
tiny circles on the back of his neck. "I feel safe when I'm with
you, Mulder. Protected and loved. And I really need to feel that
now." her voice dropped.
     "Are you sure you're ready?" his whirling mind tried to
count the weeks, the months -- had it been as long as the doctor
said it should be?
     "I know I'm ready." she insisted, moving her body against
his, feeling his immediate response under her.
     "I don't want to hurt you..." he trailed off, watching he
mouth open and her tongue flick out, just touching his
collarbone, and then withdrawing.
     It was suddenly hard to breathe again.
     "Scully, I can't hurt you..." he said, half-desperate as she
did it again, this time trailing the pinpoint heat up to his
neck.
     "You won't. She whispered. "You never could."
     He doubted that. But, oh! if she really wanted this. It
would make him feel so much better.
     He lowered his head and caught her lips with his own,
tracing them gently with his tongue, pressing his lightly to
them, testing her. She returned it with no heat, only a calm
acceptance, and when he drew his head back he shook it slowly.
     "No, Scully. You don't really want this. You're scared and
hurting and you want something. I can't take advantage of you."
     "But I do want you." she said, frustration in it. "It's been
a long time, Mulder. I want..." she lowered her lashes and didn't
look at him as she continued. "I want your hands on me where he
touched me. I want your words in my ears so I can forget his. I
want a memory of you, to banish the one of him."
     Mulder breathed shallowly. 
     "That's exactly what I wanted to do, Scully." he sighed.
"When it happened, I wanted to grab you and erase every horrible
thing he'd done to you. I wanted to die, seeing you hurt so, and
I wanted to make you forget, give you something better."
     "You can now." her eyes were clear and full of an emotion he
was afraid to identify.
     And he was afraid of what his eyes were showing her. 
     "I don't beg, Mulder." she said softly, regaining his
attention.
     "If I just hold you here, all night, that won't be enough?"
he said quietly, trying to give her an out.
     "Not this time." her whisper brought his eyes to her face.
Seeing the pain there he knew he'd do anything to chase it away.
     "Anything you want, Dana." he whispered before leaning to
catch her mouth again.

     This time his tongue slid between her lips without a thought
and he tasted her -- toothpaste and Scully -- and his hands came
to cradle her face, tilting it back to kiss his way softly down
her throat and back up again.
     Her hands were resting on his waist now and he didn't mind
that she was letting him take the lead. He would do everything he
could to make this good for her.
     He kissed her for a long time before she began to kiss him
back. Patiently, coaxing, he played with her tongue and nibbled
on her full lower lip, sucking and tracing it, trying to pour his
soul into her, his life, everything he was. It was all hers.
     And then she kissed him back. Shyly at first, a little
frightened, but knowing, really knowing that she was safe, here
in his arms, if no where else in the world. 
     He left her lips to trail kisses down her neck to the collar
of the shirt, brushing it aside so he could treat her shoulder
and the back of her neck to a soft, sensuous tongue washing,
until he could feel a reaction starting in her. He paused, his
mouth resting above the pulse in her neck, starting to flutter
just a little. He kissed it, pressing his lips there, and heard
the whisper of sound that came from the back of her throat and
ran down his spine as a chill.
     "Dana." he sighed against her. "Oh, god. Dana."
     He lay back, his length spread on the couch, with her on top
of him, her hands pressed to his bare chest as he kissed her and
she kissed him back and time seemed to stop.
     And started again. Later, when at last he found the strength
to move his hands from his face, to run them lightly over her
body, and then in smoothing, tender caresses, up and down. He
wanted to touch her everywhere, taste her everywhere.
     But he had to be sure.
     Putting his hands to her shoulders, he pushed her up gently,
to look in her eyes.
     They shone down at him, wide and blue and dreamy, no hint of
fear or censure.
     "Dana." he whispered as her hands curled and relaxed on his
chest, teasing the fine hair, trailing around his flat nipples.
"Are you sure? This is enough for me. I can give you what you
need without taking anything for myself."
     She smiled at him now, the first real smile he'd seen in
weeks.
     "You're such a martyr, Mulder." she sat up, and pulled the
shirt off in a fluid, graceful motion, then sat, proudly, meeting
his eyes as they traveled over her pale skin and inviting curves.
"Do you really think you could do that?"
     He sighed and reached for her again.
     "Probably not." his hands touched her breasts, weighing
them, cupping their fullness. She'd lost weight.
     She leaned down to kiss him again and he met it while his
hands played gently with her nipples, rubbing over them, twirling
them lightly, every touch soft and gentle and tingling. When her
mouth went to his chin and then his ear he lowered it to taste
her, laying further back, sinking into the couch as he closed his
eyes and suckled slowly, his hands meeting on her back and long
fingers trailing down to her butt.
     For a while it was enough to do that. She kissed his neck,
trailed her tongue over his ears and face and once over his nose
and he lay there and soothed himself with her breasts, dividing
his time between them, wanting no more than to lay with her
forever like this. But her back arched and she felt him pushing
at her and he knew she wanted more and suddenly so did he. His
hands returned to their wanderings. 
     The thin ridge of scarred flesh he found as he trailed them
along the joining of ass and thigh made him stop momentarily,
shaken with rage, but it passed as she spread her legs slightly
and urged him on.
     His fingers trailed, spread, and stroked her center, feeling
the criss-cross of scars even on that satin flesh. And feeling
the wet heat she was building for him.
     Remembering the doctor's words he probed carefully, finding
the passage very tight, but wet and slick. One finger, and then
two and three, but that was all. He despaired of completing the
act as she was now. It was a blessing he was no more than
averagely endowed.
     Her throaty whispers had become moans and she was reaching
to stroke him inside his sweats, but he put her off, instead
pulling her up to straddle his chest, and then higher as she
didn't object. Delicately stroking her legs, her thighs, he began
to nuzzle them as well, snuffling and licking them as she
gradually relaxed and allowed them to fall farther apart.
     As her legs spread he lifted her under the shoulders, his
strength giving her a quick rush of pleasure, and settled her
over his face. The flannel material tickled his nose and he
pushed it out of the way. Baggy, the boxers proved no deterrent
to his questing mouth as he nuzzled up her leg and pulled her
closer.
     "Mulder..." she sighed above him, leaning back. He wasn't
sure if it was rejection or approval, so he looked up and was
struck by the picture she presented. Her hair glowing, eyes shut,
breasts flushed deep pink, her breathing was coming fast, her
hands gripping him behind her.
     "I'm going to make you ready for me, Dana." he said softly.
"I won't hurt you."
     "Mulder, please." she was begging now and he knew that was
approval, so he returned to his slow seduction of her legs. She
was quivering visibly before he finally let himself taste her,
and it brought a sweet gasp from his partner. So he did it again,
and then settled himself to it, kissing and licking and sucking
where she felt it the most. Soon she was wriggling above him and
he made no attempt to hold her, just let his mouth travel where
it may as she moved above him. His hands cupped her butt, kneaded
it, stroked the crack between her cheeks, and dropped to test her
readiness every once in a while.
     She was hot, and swollen, and open as far as she was going
to be. Leaning further back, she got a hand on him, and that
first touch nearly ended the whole thing. He hadn't been paying
attention to his own state, concentrating on her, but now it was
brought home to him in a roaring red rush as his back arched
helplessly and he groaned into her red curls.
     "Dana...don't." he panted, trying to regain control. And of
course she didn't listen, just kept touching him, stroking him,
measuring him. He felt like he was going to explode.
     He knew he was going to explode. But he wanted to do it
inside of her, her slick heat around him...he lifted her away
from his face and pushed her down his body, struggling to reach
his pants and pull them off. She understood, rose to her knees to
give him room, and then settled over him, but not around him, and
watched with amusement as his face clenched and he bucked against
her.
     "Mulder." she smiled, leaning to kiss his chest, his
stomach, her hands on his hips. "We've got all night."
     He knew she was paying him back for the teasing he had
dished out the last time they had done this, but he was too hard,
too close.
     "Not this time, we don't." he said thickly, his tongue stuck
to the roof of his mouth. "I'm not going to make it...much
longer...Dana..." he sighed as she lifted herself and settled
over him, her hand going to raise him, guide him.
     "Stop..." he panted, fighting to be still, to let her take
him at his own pace, "Stop...if it hurts...if I'm too much..."
     An inch, and then two. Three. Four and she was so tight, so
hot. He could see it as her eyes glazed over, how he stretched
her, filled her. His hands went to her waist to steady her and
their eyes met, both flaming with passion but still concerned,
aware of the other.
     He didn't go any farther, and couldn't restrain a whimper as
she began to rise off him. A small hand came down to cover his
mouth, giving him a finger to suck while she worked on getting
him in.
     He couldn't stand it. It was too intense. Then he was in,
all the way, and it was so intense he thought he would pass out,
the blood pounding in his brain, as -- yes -- he exploded. Buried
in her to the hilt, he spasmed, clutching her hips and fighting
it the whole time, but there was no way to stop it.
     Scully felt him come, his heat filling her, and felt a pang
of regret, but brushed it off and leaned to kiss him, his mouth
clinging to her sweetness.
     When he could breath again he tried to speak.
     "Sorry...Scully. You just feel so good and it's been so
long..." he couldn't finish as she lay on him and he wrapped his
arms around her. "Just give me a few minutes." he whispered into
her ear, tasting his sweat on her, tracing the delicate contours.
"We'll finish this right."
     Her chuckle was soft and welcome.
     "How old are you, Mulder?" she teased.
     "But it has been a long time." He raised her face in his
hands and began kissing her again. 
     They kissed, drinking each other's breath, and she did feel
the stirrings of renewed passion within her as he groaned low and
soft.
     "See what you do to me..." he growled playfully, as she
moved against him, rubbing his chest with her breasts. Her eyes
were still glowing, like huge sapphires, standing out in her
face. She pushed herself back and up and he reached to cradle her
breasts, stroking them, kneading them with such a delicate touch
it sent shivers up her neck.
     He was watching her, smiling a little lopsided smile.
     "You're beautiful." he said suddenly, catching her by
surprise. "The most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
     Considering his tapes, that was a compliment, but she didn't
take him seriously and he saw that.
     "Dana." he groaned as she rode him gently, rocking back and
forth, creating a wonderful friction between her legs as she
rubbed against him. "Dana Scully. You are the most beautiful
woman..." he groaned again as she went a notch faster, breathing
harder, her face flushed and eyes closed, hands firm on his
waist, clinging as she rocked in time to the music he was making
with his wonderful voice. He slipped a hand down to the cluster
of nerves where they became one and pressed lightly on it, still
talking, a chant now, a song of love..."Dana Scully,
youarethemostbeautifulwoman..." again and again and again until
she believed him and release crashed through her, her first
cl