************************************
Title:    BY COINCIDENCE 
Author:   Cathleen Faye / kimerikal@aol.com
Web Page: http://members.aol.com/kimerikal
Archive:  anywhere anybody wants
Genre:    MSR
Rating:   NC-17 (some language but mostly for sexual content)
Summary:  Set in 1995.  As Mulder recovers from brush with death in the 
Arctic Circle, he reflects on the things that he has to tell Scully before 
he starts running out of chances.  On the same day, across town, Scully 
uncovers a moment from Mulder's past which she thinks provides her with 
clues about his present.  But sometimes all is not what it seems on the 
surface.  By coincidence, they meet in a park on a cold winter day and what 
looks like happenstance actually just might be fate taking over matters of 
the heart from two people who clearly need some help.
Notes:  Lots of romantic musing & introspection, with touches of angst & 
humor.  Oh, and a bit of smut.  A romantic character study really and my 
first attempt at FanFic in this genre.  It's set in 1995 because so much 
fine stuff has been written surrounding recent 4 th & 5 th season events 
that I decided to go back in time a bit and examine Mulder and Scully's 
feelings in the beginning. 
Spoilers:  Everything the Pilot to End Game.
*************************************


BY COINCIDENCE
Author: Cathleen Faye / kimerikal@aol.com




Sunday, February 19, 1995
Mulder's Apartment
11:21 am


	God, he just hated Sundays, Mulder thought as he reluctantly opened his 
eyes and tried to focus in on what he'd heard, his body tense and on alert 
as he tried to identify the sound that had broken apart his blessedly 
dreamless sleep.
	As usual, he'd fallen asleep on his couch the night before, or rather, 
early that morning as it'd been just a little after 4am the last time he'd 
glanced at the clock before sleep had finally overtaken him.  From his 
supine position, he gazed languidly about his living room, blinking a few 
times as he pushed his way further up into consciousness.  Then the sound 
came again; it was just a dog barking out on the street somewhere.
	With a deep groan, he sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes, trying to clear 
his head.  Mulder was most definitely not a morning person.  He rolled his 
head slowly to loosen the stiffened muscles in his neck and shoulders then 
stretched his arms out as far as he could reach, trying to loosen the kinks 
in his back as he yawned deeply and loudly.  Exhausted from his efforts, 
Mulder flopped back into the couch and focused in on the clock on the side 
table.  He was somewhat pleased to discover that he'd managed to sleep away 
the greater portion of the morning.  This was good, he thought, less Sunday 
to have to struggle through.
	From his sprawled position, Mulder looked slowly about his place feeling 
a bit depressed and claustrophobic.  It was stuffy in the small room and the 
gray morning light from the overcast sky only added to the dreariness.  
Every once in a while, he was stuck by the fact that his place often felt 
strange to him, as though he didn't actually live there.  It was like a dorm 
room without any of the fun that usually went with the mess.  It wasn't like 
Scully's place which felt like a home, like a human being made a life there.
	He turned towards the window and squinted out at the dull sky, feeling 
that since he was awake, he really should get up and do something with his 
day.  Of course, one of the reasons Mulder hated Sundays was that they were 
filled with the necessary chores of everyday living.  Boring things like 
laundry, picking up dry cleaning, restocking his food supply, clearing a 
path so he could at least move about his apartment without danger of 
crashing into something and breaking his little toe - again.  However, truth 
be told, the real reason he didn't care for Sundays was because Scully 
wasn't around and he was alone.  Saturdays weren't so bad, but as the 
weekend stretched along, Sundays started to become intolerable because of 
the separation from her.
	64 hours.  He'd pathetically counted it up once and 5pm Friday to 9am 
Monday was 64 hours.  True, he and Scully rarely worked anything that even 
slightly resembled regular office hours.  But when not in the field on a 
case, or during a slow period like now, their schedule was like that of any 
other civil servant.  In the past, he'd often been able to turn Sunday in to 
a working day too and he liked that much better.  If nothing else, the 
American taxpayer certainly got their money's worth on Fox Mulder's salary.
	However, he'd had many Sundays free since the end of last year.  Scully 
had almost died when she had been unceremoniously returned from where ever 
she'd been held for three months.  Her body had undergone serious trauma 
with strange, unnatural changes to her blood and organic structures and her 
recovery to full strength had not been as quick as she would have liked.  
She'd come back to work full time much earlier than she should have and 
she'd paid the price with a slight relapse in exhaustion just before 
Christmas.  Mulder had been irritated with her about her insistence on 
returning to a full caseload.
	Jesus, she was a doctor, had she worked with only corpses for so long 
that she'd forgotten that it takes time for the living to heal and 
regenerate?  As much as he loved her, the fact remained that, on occasion, 
Scully just irritated the ever-loving shit out of him.  But in a good way, 
he was quick to append mentally.  Her determination and independence were 
two of the things he admired most in her and yet, if he was honest, they 
were also the same things that, at times, exasperated him to the point of 
beating his head on the wall.
	That's when Skinner, in collusion with Mulder, had lightened their 
workload for a short time in order to force Scully to take time to recover.  
It'd worked too; she was completely back to her old self.  Or rather, as 
completely back as one could be who couldn't account for three months of 
their life.
	But then again, tracking him down to the frozen wastelands at the top of 
the world probably hadn't done much for her stamina either.  He'd 
deliberately left her behind for a variety of reasons, some selfish, some 
not.  But as usual, Scully wouldn't be dismissed so easily and Mulder was 
left torn between feeling grateful that she'd followed him, for there wasn't 
a doubt in his mind that he'd be dead otherwise, and feeling angry that she 
had taken such a chance because of him.
	Now, of course, in the last two weeks, *he'd* been the one who'd needed 
time to recover.  The retrovirus that would have killed him except for 
Scully's intervention had raged through his body, forcing him into the idle 
time he hated.  Although the last series of blood work had shown that 
Scully's prescribed course of antivirals had eradicated the virus, he was 
still weak and Mulder hated feeling weak - hated it worse than almost 
anything in the world.  He'd refused to give into it, pushing himself and 
Scully had nagged at him daily to rest more, just as he'd done to her.  They 
really should be together, he thought, smiling slightly, what other sane 
person would have either one of them. 
	Mulder stood up slowly and made his way to the bathroom.  He started the 
shower as he peeled off his sweaty T-shirt and the boxers still stained from 
last night's little adventure with his video collection.  He wondered 
absently if he would ever have sex again with anything except his right hand 
or perhaps his left when he was feeling kinky.  That thought naturally 
brought his mind back to Scully and his brain went all foggy again.  He 
opened the bathroom windows hoping the fresh chilled air would help.  
Stepping into the shower, he let the hot steaming water pour down over his 
aching back muscles, feeling them finally loosen up slightly.  He washed his 
hair then soaped down his body, finally just standing under the hot 
pulsating flow and imagining, as he'd started to do lately, what it would be 
like to have Scully enjoying this with him.  The hot water began to fade to 
be replaced with cold, which was just as well given the direction his 
thoughts had been taking.
	As he stepped out of the shower, he shook his head like a dog, just 
beginning to feel human again.  He shivered slightly because now, of course, 
it was cold from the open window.  Mulder wrapped himself in the seldom-used 
thick terry robe that hung on the back of the door - a birthday gift from 
his mother a few months ago.  Granted, the robe had been delivered by UPS 
the day *after* his birthday and accompanying card that said, "Best Wishes 
on your special day," had had a *printed* signature, but hey, at least she'd 
remembered.  But somehow though, Mulder was also very sure that the kid who 
delivered his mother's newspaper probably got the same card on his birthday 
too, although he supposed that Mom's personal shopper had picked out a more 
appropriate gift for a 13-year-old.
	Mulder wiped the steam off the mirror and stared at his 34-year-old 
face.  The dark bruising around his eyes from the retrovirus had faded, but 
he still looked tired and a bit older than his actual age.  After a moment's 
debate, he decided to forgo shaving, opting instead to put his full effort 
into brushing his teeth.  He styled his wet hair by running a hand through 
it and contemplated a nose job for about 3 seconds.  Finally, he padded back 
into the living room and resumed his spot on the couch, propping his feet up 
on the coffee table, exhausted from his efforts of doing almost nothing.  He 
glanced over at the clock again.  Wow - He'd managed to kill 40 whole 
minutes.  Now what?
	Mulder surveyed his domain again with a certain dismay.  The apartment-
cleaning fairy had not made an appearance while he was in the shower.  I 
should get a maid, he thought before he rejected the idea immediately.  He 
couldn't have a maid - he had way too much stuff for her to get into and 
mess with.  Mulder hated people messing with his stuff.
	Scully had tried to mess with his stuff once, he remembered.  Just after 
she'd been assigned to the X-Files, she'd offered to help him organize.  
He'd looked at her with complete horror and assured her that he knew exactly 
where everything was.  It was a lie of course; he knew it, and she knew it.  
But the offer had come very, very early in their relationship and the truth 
was he hadn't trusted her then.  Of course, he thought affectionately, now 
that he trusted her with life, heart and soul, the little bitch hadn't 
volunteered again.  He'd blown that one big time.
	Mulder looked in the general direction of the kitchen.  There was coffee 
in there - it was calling out to him.  The only problem was that getting it 
from the kitchen to the couch would require some movement on his part.  What 
was the deal with that, he thought resentfully, not yet ready to stir from 
his spot.
	He wasted a few more minutes contemplating his feet & toes a bit.  Why 
was it that some people's second toe was longer than their big toe, he 
wondered.  That didn't make any sense and while he was at it, who came up 
with the word "toe" any way?  It was one of those words that when said 
repeatedly in one's mind, as Mulder was unfortunately doing right that 
moment, it became completely non-sensible.  He'd have to ask Scully her 
medical opinion on Monday, if only to see the look on her face.  He loved to 
do that.
	He closed his eyes and imagined Scully curled up on this couch in his 
robe, fresh from her shower with her hair damp and her body sweet-smelling.  
She'd sit at that end and put her feet in his lap so he could massage them.  
He thought about the deliciousness of tickling her slightly and getting that 
smile back.  Maybe she'd let him paint her toenails, it was a weird little 
thing he had a desire to do, just as he'd had this equally crazy longing to 
brush that one errant strand of hair back off her face.  Mulder thought 
about how he would hold her foot on his lap bend down and suck Scully's big 
toe deep into his mouth as he....
	The resulting picture in his mind snapped his eyes back open and stirred 
him into action.  With some effort, he managed to unfold his bones to a 
standing position and gravitate towards the kitchen and his new coffeemaker.  
Another heart-felt gift from mom left on his doorstep by UPS - this time to 
mark Christmas.  The printed card said, "Best Wishes on this Happy Holiday."  
Mom's printer was apparently very big on the Best Wishes thing.  But hey, at 
least he bet the paperboy hadn't gotten a coffeemaker for Christmas.
	Mulder dug through the cupboards.  Shit, he was out of filters - he'd 
have to remember to buy some, another one of those mundane things he hated 
remembering.  Making do with a paper towel, he dumped what seemed to be an 
appropriate amount of coffee in and set it to brewing.
	Fox Mulder made truly shitty coffee.  His fine, keen mind was able to 
hypothesize the most elusive of metaphysical concepts but for some damn 
reason the correct ratio of coffee to water just completely eluded him.  
When Scully was there and they were going over files together, he could 
often con her into doing it and it always tasted wonderful.  On the other 
hand, he thought, maybe it was just the fact he was sharing it with her that 
made it wonderful.  Maybe there was just the illusion that Scully's coffee 
was better than his was.
	Mulder padded to the front door to pick up the paper and then headed 
back to the couch to wait for the coffee to finish brewing.  He read the 
comics and he wondered if poor Charlie Brown was ever going to nail that 
cute little red-headed girl who followed him about.  Then he thumbed through 
the TV guide.  The Fox Network was re-running that God-awful alien autopsy 
special, yet another reason to live, he thought sarcastically, echoing 
Scully's words spoken to him a few months back.
	Within a few minutes, the coffee was ready and he shuffled back to the 
kitchen where he rummaged around to find his last clean mug.  He poured the 
coffee and then added the usual immense amounts of sugar and cream necessary 
to turn it into something he could actually stand to drink.
	His stomach rumbled slightly so he stood in front of the open 
refrigerator a few minutes searching for something to eat - something that 
didn't look alien with green fuzz.  After a moment, he settled on the two-
day old leftover ravioli.  He briefly considered popping it into the 
microwave, but then decided the hell with it and carried it along with the 
coffee back to the living room.  He resumed his position on the couch, ate 
cold leftover ravioli out of the Tupperware as he drank his too sweet coffee 
and read the paper.  Wow, he thought acerbically, life just doesn't get any 
better than this.  He wondered what Scully was doing right this moment.  He 
wondered if he should tell her the things he wanted so badly to tell her or 
if he should just shut the hell up and leave it all be.  He really didn't 
like having all this free time to think about all of that.
	God, he just hated Sundays.





********************

Simon's Used Bookstore
Alexandria, Virginia.
	
	It was by coincidence that Scully and her sister, Melissa, ended up in 
the used bookstore.
	They'd gone for brunch at their favorite place in Old Town Alexandria.  
That part of the city was beautiful, with its historical brick buildings, 
quaint streets and stores.  In the last couple of months, she and Melissa 
had taken to meeting up on Sundays whenever they could to catch up on sister 
talk and just spend some time together.
	Since the day had turned very cold and dreary, they'd planned on taking 
in a movie.  However, they'd ended up talking so long at brunch that they 
missed the start time and now had to kill a couple hours.  After leaving the 
restaurant, they wandered a bit, where they happened upon the old store 
stuffed to the ceiling with old books, magazines and newspapers.  Melissa 
wanted to go in as the window sign promised a large New Age section.
	Once inside, the sisters each went their separate ways.  Melissa watched 
fondly as Dana wandered over towards the science books, just feeling so very 
pleased that she was even there to share the day with her.  Like many adult 
siblings, the sisters had drifted apart a bit since childhood - Not though 
argument or design, but simply by chance and laziness.  But since Dana's 
return months before, Melissa stuck closer to her sister than she had in 
recent years.  After months of absence, she'd given her sister up for dead.  
Then she'd almost lost her again when they had acquiesced to Dana's wish 
that her life not be maintained by artificial means.
	Melissa knew that she'd been given a second chance to rebuild the 
closeness they'd once had and she wasn't going to waste it.  That's why 
today had been so nice.  During lunch, she'd teased Dana gently as she had 
when they were young and was pleased to see that somewhere in the ensuing 
years her little sister had learned to give back as good as she got.  Dana 
had always had a sense of humor but few outside the family had ever seen it.
	Other things were different too.  Once unbending almost to a fault, 
she'd become less rigid in the last few years and more open.  At brunch, 
Dana had actually listened to her as she'd talked about some of her 
spiritual beliefs without either giving her The Look or outright dismissing 
them with a sound of derision, as she would have once.  No, she wasn't going 
to see Dana at one of her spiritual gatherings anytime soon, but at least 
she was willing to look at other possibilities.
	Melissa remembered back when they were young and moving from base to 
base with their parents.  She'd made new friends easily, but it had been 
harder for Dana.  Fair or not, being very smart was often tough on a girl 
socially and somehow, Dana's confidence in her intellect was often mistaken 
for arrogance.  Melissa knew her little sister was often passed by or left 
out, but she wasn't about to tell her to pretend to be less than she was in 
order to fit in.  By the time Dana made friends who could appreciate her, it 
was often time to move on again and leave them behind.
	The end result was that Dana had grown up far more serious and 
introspective than she had.  That's why it was so nice to see her laugh and 
be happy now.  Melissa could tell that she loved her work and she felt she'd 
found a place she belonged.  There was no denying that Dana's years at the 
FBI had definitely changed her for the better and Melissa was certain some 
of it was certainly due to that partner of hers.
	Melissa often had insights that she couldn't explain any more than she 
could explain to Mulder just how she knew not to call him, "Fox."  The 
minute Dana's handsome partner had walked into the ICU, she'd sensed that 
there was more going between Mulder and her sister than met the eye.  She 
didn't suspect anything as boring or conventional as office love affair.  
Rather, she sensed a deeper communion between them, something that was far 
more rare.  She wasn't even sure if they understood it themselves.  Mulder, 
for all his outlandish beliefs, certainly hadn't realized the power his 
heart held for her sister.  When she'd come to him with the grim news that 
Dana was slipping away, his refusal to return to the hospital had infuriated 
her.  Nevertheless, in the end, he'd given up on his useless earthly 
struggle for justice and had come to stay Dana in a kind of spiritual 
battle.
	Melissa wasn't sure if she could attribute Dana's restoration to any one 
person, entity or thing, nor was she even particularly interested in doing 
so.  All she knew was that by the next morning, her sister's conscious mind 
had been restored to the body that had been useless without it.  All she 
knew was that had happened *after* Fox Mulder had come to Dana.  All she 
knew was that her sister was whole again and Melissa Scully did not believe 
in coincidence.
	She looked down the long aisle from where she sat and saw Dana looking 
though stacks of books and she smiled to herself.  Things were good, Melissa 
thought.
	Scully glanced briefly up at her sister who was now happily sitting on 
the floor next to a stack of books on crystals, astrology and other things 
that didn't fit into her ordered world.  She wandered to the back of the 
large store where the medical books were stacked.  As she squeezed down one 
aisle, she noticed that the store had a large section on UFOs and other 
paranormal phenomena.  She half expected to see Mulder standing there, 
pouring over some obscure reference with excitement in his hazel eyes.  He 
didn't live too far from here so chances were good that he knew about this 
place, but in case he didn't, she'd have to remember to mention it to him on 
Monday.
	Scully paused and looked through the stacks thinking maybe there was 
something she could pick out for him.  She and Melissa could drop it off on 
the way home in fact, she thought.  Would it be too strange to get a gift 
for no reason?  Would it seem too obvious that she was looking for any 
excuse to see Mulder?  Was it pathetic that she counted down the 64 hours of 
a weekend?
	Scully sighed and shook her shook her head.  Not a good idea, it was a 
pitiful pretext at best and anyway, she reasoned, she could be pretty 
certain that he already owned most of the books there no matter how 
outrageous or far-fetched.  She glanced back up the far end of the aisle at 
her sister again.  Melissa was so like Mulder, she thought, they each had 
very different, but nonetheless passionate beliefs in things that were often 
without the hard scientific proof she needed.  In Melissa and Mulder's view 
of the world, two and two didn't necessarily need to add up to four.  But it 
was so hard for Scully to make that same leap of faith  - something in her 
just demanded that the addition work out right.  She was willing to listen, 
even willing to suppose on occasion.  However, she wasn't quite able to just 
openly believe, not yet anyway.
	Scully moved on down the aisle.  She'd forgotten how much she had loved 
these dusty, disordered places.  A voracious reader during childhood and her 
high school years, she'd spent many afternoons wandering places such as 
this, looking for a special find or author.  Later, during medical school 
when she'd hardly had the time to waste on sleep, let alone something as 
frivolous as pleasure reading, so she'd been forced to put such little joys 
aside.  In those years, her main topics of reading were on the forensic 
sciences & chemistry.  While those had certainly proved helpful as she now 
navigated the labyrinth of the amazing and unique ways that people managed 
to die, they did little to feed her soul.
	During her first years at the FBI, she'd had little time for reading 
either.  She'd concentrated on teaching and she'd had an active social life.  
It had been a fun time and her star was rising fast within in the bureau.  
But then came the X-Files assignment and by *amazing* coincidence, her 
private life took a dumper about the same time she was directed to watch 
over the investigations of one Fox Mulder - Boy Genius and FBI loose cannon. 
	Scully hadn't been happy about the assignment and she definitely didn't 
view it as a promotion.  In spite of their assurances that it was all in the 
interest of scientific verification, the underlying tone had been very 
clear: discredit the man she was being partnered with.  She wasn't naive, 
she was aware that all agents' actions were scrutinized due to the sensitive 
nature of their work, including her own.  Nevertheless, while she hadn't 
known Agent Mulder except by reputation, she didn't like the idea of being 
assigned to spy on a fellow agent.  It wasn't her style and certainly not 
why she'd joined the FBI.
	She'd never understood why she'd been picked for there were other 
individuals with the scientific & medical backgrounds just as suited to the 
Official Version of the assignment.  The answer that had made the most sense 
to her was that perhaps because she'd been so clearly ambitious they'd 
thought she could be manipulated.  Perhaps they'd thought that in order to 
work her way up the FBI hierarchy she could be induced into delivering the 
Unofficial Version they really wanted.
	Had Fox Mulder been a different kind of man, that scenario might even 
have happened.  However, the more she observed about her new partner, the 
less she was inclined to believe the rumor and innuendo she'd been carefully 
fed.
	Scully knew that Mulder had, at one time anyway, all the makings of a 
brilliant career with the FBI.  Entering Oxford at an early age, he'd 
graduated with highest honors before moving on to gain his Ph.D. in 
Psychology.  After joining the FBI, he became a masterful and brilliant ISU 
profiler, whose insights into deranged minds had been the downfall of many 
brutal criminals.  His move to the Violent Crimes Unit only brought more 
accomplishment.  True- there was no doubt in anyone's mind that Mulder had 
skipped the class at Quantico on working and playing well with others, but 
his string of success had, in the beginning anyway, made it easier for his 
superiors to overlook his eccentricities.
	That was, until he'd discovered the X-Files.  Once he'd encountered the 
long-neglected cases, Mulder's meteoric rise crashed back to the ground like 
a defective test rocket.  By the time Scully was assigned to his entire 
investigation division of one, the FBI scuttlebutt was that the guy was 
completely off and he'd been without a partner for sometime.
	However, his obsessions were only a small part of the much bigger issue 
that Melissa had nicknamed, "The Mulder Problem" several months back.  
Scully had never put a name to it before, but the one Melissa had chosen fit 
just fine.  Of course, Melissa seemed oblivious to the fact that she'd 
already been wrestling with the Mulder Problem almost daily for the last two 
years.  Well, that is when she wasn't busy wrestling with the possibility of 
giant flukeworms and liver-eating maniacs, she thought ruefully.  Yes 
indeed, Mulder had indeed opened up a whole New World for her, she thought 
with a small grin.
	But still, the Mulder Problem clung to her like a new puppy almost from 
the minute she'd put on her most confident air, walked into that basement 
office and laid eyes on Special Agent Fox William Mulder for the first time.  
He'd looked up at her, wearing those impossibly cute glasses with that great 
head of hair and that god-awful tie.  His beautiful, deep-set eyes had sized 
her up openly as he'd shaken her hand.  Then, with a strange combination of 
friendliness and sarcasm he'd immediately proceeded to accuse her of spying 
on him and mocked her in that laconic voice.  Basically he'd managed to so 
completely piss her off that she'd decided on the spot that this guy was 
never going to best her in anything.  But then, even as she was 
contemplating killing him, he'd immediately moved on to pique her intense 
curiosity.  He'd shown her people who needed their protection from the 
predators of the world, be they terrestrial or extra-terrestrial as Mulder 
believed.  He'd dazzled her with strange theories and challenged both her 
mind and her sense of wonder.
	Nothing in the last two years had changed since except along the way 
he'd challenged her heart also.
	*Damn that bastard*, she thought with deep affection.  He was a lethal 
combination of being one of the most unconsciously seductive men she'd ever 
known and managed to have that brilliant, albeit somewhat unstable, mind to 
boot.  Loving a man like Mulder was hadn't been part of her life's master 
game plan, but love him she did and that game plan was now just a distant 
memory.
	In the beginning, she'd wondered which fascinated her more, the work or 
Fox Mulder.  Soon, she'd realized that the two were so completely 
intertwined that there was no separating them.  "I'm not crazy, Scully, I 
have the same doubts you do," was his response to one of the first times 
she'd looked at him like he was demented.  But then he'd entice her to 
follow him out on the precarious limb of his logic and she, who'd always 
preferred to stay close to the trunk in the past, found herself edging out 
on that branch more & more.
	Just what was she gonna do about the Mulder Problem?  Scully sighed; she 
had no better answer today than she'd had almost two years ago, when she'd 
made her decision where her absolute allegiance would lie.
	Very shortly after her assignment to the XFiles, her former classmate, 
Tom Colton, had asked her to work with the Violent Crimes Section when 
Eugene Toomes first raised his ugly, liver-eating head.  She'd been eager 
for the opportunity for she and Mulder to distinguish themselves.  She'd 
wanted them all to see just how good Mulder was.  However, the disrespect 
shown her partner had astounded her - It was so blatant that the other 
agents didn't even bother to whisper when they called him, "Spooky."
	After a particularly ugly confrontation with Colton, Mulder had told her 
that he would understand if she decided to continue working with the VCS.  
She knew his offer was sincere; that he'd realized how being his partner was 
beginning to affect how the rest of the FBI viewed her.  But even as he'd 
said the words he'd reached out and toyed with the long pendant she was 
wearing, seemingly to just be straightening it.  As she looked up into his 
eyes, something made her feel as though he was also holding on to her, 
silently hoping she wouldn't go.  She hadn't gone of course, had never even 
considered going.  But looking back, she realized that signaled the first of 
many times she would feel subliminal messages from Mulder; a look, a touch 
or action that was very different from his spoken words.
	Over the next two years, her former friends within the FBI began to 
distance themselves.  They had careers to think about and after all, Scully 
was now part of that Spooky Patrol.  Since everyone knew that Mulder was 
off, there certainly had to be a little something off about Scully too.  No 
one who valued their career wanted that stigma attached to them.
	Yes, the truth was out there, she thought ruefully, and the truth was 
that it was entirely Mulder's fault that her social life became a dry 
lakebed of inactivity.  Men who'd once called her quite regularly stopped 
calling.  Female co-workers that she used to go shopping or to a movie with 
suddenly became very busy.  She even stopped being invited to boring FBI 
social functions, not that she particularly wanted to go, but she did want 
to be invited.  In Scully's mind, perhaps the lowest point came when the FBI 
softball team told her they were full and couldn't use her.  That was 
particularly disheartening as they were so pathetic that even a poodle who 
could play catch would have been welcomed with open arms.  However, they 
didn't want Dana Scully, AKA Mrs. Spooky.
	Now, other than having the occasional need to mess with other people's 
heads, if Mulder minded their ostracization he didn't show it.  As long as 
he was given relatively free rein, Mulder didn't seem to mind that his 
assigned office had, in fact, once been the copy machine room and had no 
windows or heat.  He didn't mind that it was so far away from everyone else 
in the FBI that it was something akin to being assigned to steerage on the 
Titanic.  He didn't seem to mind that the FBI hadn't provided his partner 
with a desk or even had her name inscribed on the door almost as though they 
were unwilling to acknowledge that this wasn't a slam-dunk temporary 
assignment.  He didn't seem to mind that his chances for advancement within 
the bureau were now roughly the same as Cancer Man marching one of his 
little gray friends up before Congress to sing songs and tell tales.
	But Scully had minded.  In fact, it had infuriated her for the longest 
time.  How could it possibly be that no one, except perhaps Skinner, saw the 
value of their investigations?  Eventually she'd became reconciled to the 
fact that she and Mulder were the bastard children of the FBI, the kind 
spoken about in whispers and rarely invited to family reunions and that 
together they had indeed become the FBI's most unwanted.  She never 
regretted her allegiance, or her decision to stand with Mulder in their 
search for the truth.  But of all the other injustices they'd faced, the 
ones perpetrated by their fellow FBI agents particularly galled her.
	After a bit of more browsing in the travel section, she went back in 
search of Melissa.  She'd apparently moved on from the New Age section and 
after wandering up and down for sometime, Scully found her ensconced on the 
floor in front of the paperback romances.  She watched in fascination as her 
sister methodically pulled a book off the shelf, shook it and started 
reading where it fell open.  She'd scan the paragraph quickly and then set 
the book aside in one of two stacks.  "Missy, what the hell are you doing?" 
she finally asked after a few moments of watching this procedure.
	Melissa looked at her sister with great patience, as though Scully was a 
slightly slow child who needed extra help.  "I'm reading the sex scenes to 
see if it's worth buying," she answered.  "If that part is good, I'll buy 
the book."
	Scully noticed that three other people in the aisle all immediately 
started shaking their books.  Scully nodded her head slightly as a smile at 
her sister's technique crossed her face.  "So what you're saying, is that 
you don't judge a book by its cover, you judge a book by whether or not is 
shakes open to great sex?"
	"You got it.  You ever read these, Dana?  You can pick up some rather 
interesting tips.  Listen...'Hank gasped as Cassandra took his proud manhood 
deep in her....'  "
	"I *get* the idea, Melissa - Thank you."  Scully interrupted because she 
knew Melissa and she knew where this conversation would head.
	Melissa looked up from the book in her lap to her sister.  There was 
nothing she enjoyed quite so much as tormenting her little sister just a 
bit.  Dana wasn't a prude by a long shot.  But she was also letting her best 
years slip by chasing little green men with that partner of hers, when 
actually, it the partner that she should be chasing down.
	"Well, you might want to try reading a few of these sometime; might 
relieve some of that sexual tension in your body.  I mean I bet your aura is 
a dark ugly color by now."
	Scully tried to ignore the fact that the people, who'd been shaking 
their books a moment ago, had now turned to see the aura of a sexually 
deprived woman.  She gave Melissa The Look.
	"I'm *only* trying to help," Melissa protested.  "I know it's been a 
long, excuse the expression, dry spell for you now."
	Now people were actually poked their heads around the aisle to get a 
gander.  Scully knew that when Melissa was in a goading mood she could be 
relentless and she knew that Melissa blamed Mulder for her appalling lack of 
social life.  OK, so Mulder *was* to blame, but she didn't want to discuss 
it in the paperback romance section of store.  Besides, Scully already knew 
her sister's next question - it was always the same.
	"So, Dana, you ever gonna *do* anything about that Mulder Problem?"
	Scully sighed, where had she heard that question before?  Oh, yeah, she 
asked it herself that about 10 minutes ago.
	She leveled her best stern look at her sister.  "I'm going over to the 
history section for a while - take your time."  Scully turned on her heel 
made her way back down the narrow aisle.  Just as she was squeezing past an 
elderly matron who was pouring over the cookbooks, she head Melissa's voice 
call loudly out to her.
	"You know Dana, a little one-handed fiction won't make you go blind, it 
might even do you some good."
	Scully felt her fair-skinned face turn red as the matron looked up at 
her.  Then the older woman patted her on the arm gently and said, "She's 
right you know, dearie."  As she glanced around, she noticed that the few 
other patrons in the bookstore within earshot all smiled and nodded 
sympathetically at her plight.
	Scully she felt like she was wearing a sign: Untouched By Human Hands In 
Over Two Years."  Suddenly, somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard a 
Mulderesque voice in her head, "Yeah, but a few aliens may have copped a 
feel or two, huh Scully?"  Even the imagined sound of Mulder's voice made 
her smile a bit.
	She liked that Mulder called her Scully.  In many ways, Dana seemed 
almost a different person to her.  Still part of her, of course, but a far 
less interesting part.  Dana seemed rather ordinary now, very tame.  Dana 
was earnest, efficient and just slightly dull.  Her dentist called her Dana.
	But Scully lived a far more extraordinary life.  She loved the 
extraordinary man who had opened the doors to that life.  She'd stepped 
through on her own to be sure, but she never forgot that it was Mulder who'd 
made her realize there was far more in the world to challenge her intellect 
than lecturing to the bored faces at Quantico.  He'd shown her that there 
were people who needed the help and protection that they alone could offer.  
Over the last two years, she'd discovered that she liked *being Scully* a 
hell of a lot better than she had ever liked being Dana.
	She had no real desire for Mulder to use her first name, never believed 
that it would bring them any closer.  Indeed, the very few times he'd used 
her name had mostly disturbed her.  She remembered just after her father had 
died, Mulder had called her Dana when speaking to her.  She knew, in his 
way, that he was trying to be solicitous in his manner towards her.  But 
instead of creating intimacy, it had caused her to feel distant to him and 
caused her to hesitate from telling him what she'd wanted to tell him.
	Once, long ago, she'd started to call him Fox and he'd corrected her.  
It was funny, but she'd never once viewed that as a privilege he denied her, 
but granted others.  Quite the opposite, she wondered if he'd come to feel 
the same way about their connection as she did; felt that just as Fox & Dana 
were there for family and associates to use, Scully and Mulder were for each 
other.
	Scully decided to wander over to the fiction section.  The *real 
fiction* section she thought smugly, not that stuff that was holding 
Melissa's attention so adroitly.  Mulder also was a voracious reader, 
although mostly in the paranormal exploration areas, and *if* you could 
count the letters to Penthouse as literature, she thought.  An Oxford 
graduate and avid peruser of Celebrity Skin, her partner was a true 
Renaissance Man.  Scully smiled thinking about Mulder's quite adolescent 
glee when he had the opportunity to zing her with some salacious observation 
or remark.
	Over the last two years, she'd discovered other little bits of Mulder, 
tantalizing glimpses of what lay behind the merely obvious.  In this case, 
familiarity didn't breed contempt; it only bred a deep longing to know more.  
Sometimes he had a reserve that was like a thick black tar that she couldn't 
push through.  His quick, deft mind easily deflected any personal inquiry 
with a smart-ass and well-aimed barb and he could go days with conversation 
that was no meaningful than the disclosure that he had dry cleaning to pick 
up.  Then, in a quicksilver mood swing, and out the blue, he'd volunteer 
something incredibly personal.
	Like the time he'd returned from the Puerto Rico fiasco with nothing but 
bank tapes.  She knew he'd thought that may have been his last chance to get 
hard evidence of his beliefs just as she knew coming up empty had to be one 
of the more crushing disappointments in his life.  He'd been so close and it 
had been taken from him just as they'd earlier taken the tools away to do 
his work when they'd shut down their office and sent her back to Quantico.
	They'd at least assigned her back to her old position, something she was 
trained for.  But they'd put Mulder on meaningless, tedious cases.  
Punishment cases really, far below his talents and worth as they tried to 
break him.  She'd feared that the loss of the tapes would be a lethal blow 
to his spirit.  But she'd underestimated his resolve.  He'd gotten past the 
frustrating setbacks, determined that they wouldn't grind him down.
	"I may not have the X-Files, Scully, but I still have my work," he'd 
said to her resolutely.  But then a moment later, he'd softly added, "and 
I've still got you."
	He'd said it so quietly, as though the realization had just occurred to 
him.  It had been the first time he'd ever really acknowledged to her face 
that he knew her to be his ally.  With Mulder, she'd learned to rely on her 
gut feelings to determine what he was thinking and she'd become very good at 
it, but his simple words had brought tears to her eyes on her drive home.
	During their time together, other words had passed between them, at 
times stubborn & bitter.  There were times when they'd hurt each other, both 
accidentally and intentionally.  In her heart, she would always remember the 
look in his eyes, as she'd shut the door on the quarantine room in that ice-
station in Alaska.  The betrayal on his face cut her so deep, she thought 
she'd literally start bleeding right there.  In her mind, she knew she'd 
done the logical thing, the rational thing, and the right thing - And never 
before had any decision she'd made felt so unconditionally wrong.
	She'd sat outside that room for hours as miserable as she'd ever been in 
her life, knowing Mulder was feeling utterly alone, scared and abandoned by 
her.  She'd not expected him to understand her reasons for her actions, not 
expected him to ever trust her, and not expected him to forgive her.  But he 
had.  He'd said to her, "I *want* to trust you" and he'd put it behind them, 
never once throwing in back in her face.
	Alaska had been a turning point for her.  She knew that she could never 
again allow her natural instincts to be totally overruled by cold logic and 
that she would have to find a way to meld the two opposing factors.  She 
struggled with that war everyday but she would rather live with that 
struggle than ever see that look in Mulder's eyes again.
	On the day they'd met, he'd asked her, "when convention and science 
offer us no answers, might we not finally turn to the fantastic as a 
plausibility?"  In the last two years, she'd discovered the answer was yes.  
As the layers of conspiracy piled on, his once solitary quest had become 
*theirs*.  The more she saw, the more she questioned and the more she 
realized that the fantastic might, in some cases, be the only explanation 
she would be able to deduce.  It was so...so.... Perhaps the word she was 
searching for was schizophrenic.  Looking up, Scully she suddenly realized 
she was in the abnormal psychology section.  Maybe the truth was in there, 
she thought wryly.
	The real truth of the matter was that she loved the man, even though he 
drove her fucking nuts sometimes.
	She loved that there was nothing half-hearted in Mulder's feelings; he 
was open to his own emotions in a way she rarely allowed herself to be, he 
allowed himself to *feel* the extremes in a way that she was unaccustomed to 
and it both frightened and fascinated her.
	She seen him shake with rage and with tears of despair.  She'd seen him 
consumed with bitter disappointment and frustration.  She'd seen him be 
self-centered, selfish and arrogant.  She'd seen him be gentle with children 
and compassionate to victims.  He was deeply suspicious of his superiors, 
never thinking to hide it and he was incapable of suffering fools gladly.  
On rare, rare occasion, she'd even heard him laugh with genuine happiness 
and not the sarcastic glibness she was more accustomed to.  He was both 
tough on her and fiercely protective to a fault.
	Along the way, she'd also sensed his craving for her although it was an 
unspoken topic between them.  But it was there, just as hers was.
	The first time she realized he felt what she did was shortly after she'd 
joined the X-Files.  They'd been sitting closely side-by-side as he showed 
her something on his computer.  His physicality beckoned to her and she'd 
used his distraction with whatever he was showing her to study him closely & 
openly.  As his voice soothed from the background, she'd surreptitiously 
breathed in his scent and noted the nape of his graceful neck in particular.  
She took close stock of that tiny dark mark on his smooth cheek, the one she 
had this insane longing to touch her lips to.  Fearing she might act on the 
impulse, she moved shifted her gaze slightly and she noticed something she 
hadn't before.
	Mulder had a pierced ear.
	There was something so incongruous about that discovery that she'd  
smiled and leaned in to look more closely.  However, Mulder chose that 
moment to turn to say something to her and they nearly bumped noses.  Their 
eyes locked together and he was clearly startled to find her so close.  
Their faces lingered mere inches from each other and other all movement 
froze.  Neither blinked and she saw the change in his face as he searched 
her eyes for something - permission perhaps.  She could see the tiny gold 
flakes in the green hazel of his eyes.  Scully saw Mulder swallow hard as 
they could each feel the other's slow breath against their lips and the 
moment stretched on as the only sound in the room was her thudding heart, 
surely he could hear it.  All she would have to do is move forward two 
inches and take what she wanted.
	But she hadn't, she'd chickened out completely.
	"You have a pierced ear," she said instead, breaking the bond as she 
leaned back slowly into the safety of her own personal space, feeling 
absurdly pleased that she didn't stammer.  "I've never seen you wear an 
earring."
	Mulder blinked out of his trance and nodded slowly, never once dropping 
his gaze from hers as he too leaned back slowly.  "I don't wear the diamond 
drop in the office, the FBI tends to frown on that," he said after a long 
pause, but there was no smart-ass grin as would have usually accompanied 
such a comment.
	"How long have you had that?" she babbled, but really wondering if she'd 
been any more successful at covering the truth in her eyes than he had.
	"It was something I did back in school."
	"Oxford?"
	Mulder nodded again and after a moment more he turned back to the 
computer screen, launched into a monologue on his findings on the case and 
clearly closing any further discussion on the subject that had piqued her 
interest.
	Both the closed subject and the unrealized kiss had played in her mind 
for days and she'd been left with the certain knowledge that he'd wanted her 
to kiss him as much as she'd wanted to.  But she at the same time, she was 
also left wondering if his reasons for not acting on the moment were the 
same as hers.  Probably not, for their individual experiences in the world 
before they'd met had been vastly dissimilar.  Each of them had brought very 
different baggage along on their journey together.
	Scully didn't need Mulder's educational training to understand that most 
of her life, she tried to gain her father's approval, never realizing until 
after he'd died that she'd always had it.  She also knew that in some ways 
she'd substituted Mulder for her father.  His approval was deeply important 
to her because he was the only man she'd ever respected as much as she'd 
respected her father.
	But her father's death had also shown her a valuable lesson.  She'd 
learned that feelings didn't always need the validation of being spoken 
aloud to be real, they merely needed to be felt.  Her father, for whatever 
reason, hadn't said the words that she'd thought she'd needed to hear.  
Working with Mulder had taught her to trust what she *felt* as much as what 
she saw or heard.  When she finally stopped turning away from her feelings, 
she'd realized that she'd had her father's approval all along.  Even though 
she was scared to believe in it all, Mulder had given her that gift of 
trusting her own insight and he'd unknowingly freed her a lifetime of 
unrelenting questions.  She only wished she could help to free him the same 
way.
	Her natural love for Mulder made her wish she could erase all his past 
hurts and disappointments.  Yet, at the same time, she was fully conscious 
of the truth that the painful experiences of Mulder's past had combined to 
make the man she loved *into* the man she loved.  Had his past been 
different, he would not have become the singular man he was.  He would be 
merely ordinary, he would be average, he would not be..Mulder.
	She had to stop and remind herself of the difficulty of Being Mulder 
from time to time.  He could be so driven, so single-minded and even 
arrogant that he could lose sight of the more reasonable possibilities and 
she'd begin to lose patience.  Her aggravation would begin to rise to 
intolerable levels, but then she would step back and recall what being 
Mulder entailed.  She would remember that he had every good reason to be the 
way he was.
	For Mulder, all semblance of an ordinary family life died abruptly the 
night his eight-year-old sister Samantha disappeared while in his care and 
it was never resurrected.  Mulder had suffered for its demise more than 
anyone else had for he'd been completely unable to account for what happened 
to her.
	Scully could only imagine what it must have been like for the boy Mulder 
had been.  He would have been harshly and relentlessly interrogated by 
disbelieving law enforcement officials.  He would have had to face the 
questions, whispers and looks from incredulous family members, neighbors & 
friends.  She wondered what it must have been like to have had to return to 
school in a community where people just didn't disappear without a trace, 
where no one have believed that he didn't know what happened or rather, 
didn't remember what happened.  Scully knew the thoughtless cruelty of 
children, knew the torment and ostracization that they were capable of.
	It must have been an ordeal such as she could only imagine and one that 
Mulder had had to face alone with no support.  For in a very true sense, 
Mulder also became an orphan at age 12.  First he'd lost his baby sister to 
God knows what and then he'd lost his parents by their own choice.  From 
what little Scully had been able to ascertain, it seemed that Mulder's 
parents, instead of cherishing & loving their remaining child all the more, 
had done little of either.  Mulder, in fact, had received the brunt of their 
blame and indifference towards each other.  Scully's heart ached for both 
the little boy who'd been abandoned so cruelly and for the man who still 
searched so desperately for answers.
	As a child, he would not have known of the conspiracies and lies they 
knew of now.  No, Mulder would have only known that his sister had been lost 
while entrusted to his care and no matter how much he wanted to, how much he 
tried to, he could not offer any answers or explanations.  It wasn't until 
1989, at age 28, when Mulder first underwent regressive hypnotherapy 
treatments that he finally recovered any memory of that night.  What he'd 
remembered had set him on the course he was on now.  No matter how fantastic 
that answer might be, she knew he clung to it partly because it held his 
*only* explanation for what happened that night.  It became his only chance 
for salvation from the guilt, responsibility and sense of failure that fate 
had imposed upon a 12-year old boy.	
	When she'd first seen the poster in Mulder's office that proclaimed, "I 
want to believe," she'd assumed that he'd meant that he wanted to believe in 
the existence of extraterrestrial life.  But after listening to the tapes of 
his hypnotherapy sessions, she realized that she'd been very wrong in her 
initial assumption.
	She'd come to understand that what Mulder wanted to believe in was the 
promise made by the voice he'd heard in his head the night his sister 
disappeared.  That voice had promised him that his sister would be returned 
unharmed someday.  He wanted to believe in that elusive promise when all the 
conventional wisdom in the world would tell him not to.  Scully knew in his 
heart that there were times when Mulder doubted the voice's promise, even 
doubted the existence of the voice itself.  But it was all he had and 
because she loved him, as much as the possibility of that voice didn't fit 
anywhere into her scheme of the world, Scully would die before she'd tell 
Mulder to give up his hope in that promise.  Because she loved him, she was 
determined to see that that promise was kept to him.

******************************


Mulder's Apartment
Alexandria, Virginia.
	
	Mulder could now honestly say he was alert.  The shower, hot coffee and 
cold ravioli had revived him.  He'd expanded his knowledge of the world by 
reading the sports section.  He'd even managed to dump a load of laundry 
into the washer and dress himself in jeans and turtleneck sweater.
	OK, a few more hours shot down - Now what the hell was he gonna do?
	He thought briefly about calling Scully with the excuse that he wanted 
to talk about the case they were wrapping up, but then he remembered that 
she'd mentioned that she had plans with her sister today.  Scully's family 
both amazed and discomforted him.  They actually seemed to *like* spending 
time together.  It was very weird.
	He remembered the first evidence he'd seen of this phenomenon.  It was 
just before Christmas in 1993.  He'd stopped at Scully's to pick her up on 
their way to the airport for an assignment.  He'd been early and as he 
waited for her to finish packing, he'd looked at Christmas cards on her 
mantle with a kind of amazement.  Scully actually got Christmas cards from 
her family, he thought, with like, real handwriting in them.  Seeing a 
particularly beautiful card he picked it up and saw it was from Scully's 
mother.
	Mulder had taken an immediate liking to Mrs. Scully, perhaps because she 
was the mother of the woman he'd come to love or perhaps because for some 
strange reason, Mrs. Scully seemed to *like him*.  That had surprised him a 
bit and he'd wondered what the deal was with that.  He knew that he wasn't 
exactly the kind of person that people immediately warmed to because of his 
sweet nature and even temperament.
	Inside the card, she'd written her daughter a affectionate, warm note; 
telling her she loved her, that she was proud of her, how much she was 
looking forward to having her family come home soon Christmas dinner in a 
few weeks.
	Mulder had stared at the note, re-reading it several times, suddenly 
feeling a little blue.  Wow - He bet Scully's Christmas present didn't 
arrive by UPS on the day after Christmas either, he thought.
	"What is it Mulder?"  Scully had returned to the living room and noticed 
his pensive look as she placed her bag by the door.
	Mulder had covered his unusual outbreak of sentiment quickly as he 
placed the card back on the Mantle.  "Just looking at the note from your Mom 
- Hey, you sure have her fooled."  He immediately regretted his sarcasm.  
Why the hell did he say that he wondered, that wasn't what he'd meant at 
all.  "It's just nice that she says those things to you," he amended.
	Scully had smiled, seeming to understand him as she usually did.  "I'm 
sure you'll be getting one too, Mulder.  Mom does like to spread it around.  
'Tis the season to gush in the Scully family, you know."
	"Ah well, you see that's where our family holiday traditions vary - In 
the Mulder clan it's the season to be constipated."  Scully had laughed 
quietly at his joke but as she'd predicted, when they'd arrived back in town 
a few days later, he'd found a card from Mrs. Scully waiting for him with 
all his other mail.  In it, she'd graciously invited him to Christmas dinner 
if he wasn't busy with his own family.  He'd laughed aloud at that - not a 
problem Mrs. Scully.  She'd written something about how often Dana spoke so 
highly of him.  Mulder had smiled rather insensibly at the words and 
wondered desperately about what Scully had said.  Jesus, I'm like some dweeb 
in high school, but he still wanted to know what she'd said.
	He hadn't been able to bring himself to go to the family dinner that 
year, but the invitation extended by Mrs. Scully had meant a lot to him.  
He'd received another card from her this last Christmas.  Same kind words, 
this time thanking him for being there to support her during her daughter's 
disappearance and for his efforts to bring her back.  They were words of 
thanks Mulder didn't feel he'd earned, but he knew they were sincerely 
meant.  Mrs. Scully had extended another dinner invitation and again, he'd 
declined.  But he'd kept that card also; it was still in the back of the top 
drawer of his desk.  Someday, he might be up for the family thing on 
Christmas, but not yet.  Maybe when he and Scully were..were.
	The sound of a large truck rattling down the street broke into his 
reverie, causing him to return to the present, irritated with himself.  When 
he and Scully were what?  He didn't even know what the hell were they *now*.  
What he and Scully were fit no known category neatly.  His only comfort in 
the matter was the fact that he knew that not being able to categorize what 
they were probably drove the ever-analytical Scully more nuts than it did 
him.  Mulder took a mild, malicious pleasure in that knowledge.
	He sighed.  No, he couldn't call Scully, even with a lame excuse.  She 
wouldn't be home yet.  *Although*, his little voice enticed, she did say 
they were coming to Alexandria to a restaurant in Old Town.  Granted, Scully 
hadn't asked him to join them but on the other hand, she hadn't really *not 
invited* him either.  He briefly pondered the ramifications of accidentally 
running into them there.  There was a slight chance that Scully might buy 
it, after all, she still believed in coincidence, whereas he knew better.  
Glancing at the clock he realized it was probably too late for that and that 
he'd missed his window of opportunity.  He sighed.  He'd missed a hell of 
many windows of opportunity, he thought, so what's one more?
	Besides, as much as he wanted to see Scully, the thought of spending 
time with her sister Melissa was just a little too unnerving.  He'd met 
Melissa Scully for the first time three months ago, standing over her 
sister's hospital bed.  She'd told him that Scully had told her not to call 
him Fox.  He'd been too preoccupied at that moment to really ponder that 
statement, but later he'd thought about it a lot.
	How the hell had Melissa known that?  How had she known to come to him 
that night a few days later and slap him up aside the head over Scully?  
Although he was an absolute believer in psychic abilities,  he wasn't sure 
if that was what Melissa had or not.  Whatever it was, she was just someone 
who saw and understood just a little too damn much for his comfort.  
Basically, between Scully's visions of her dead father, Melissa's 
spiritualism and their mother's pre-cognitive dreams, there was something 
just a little too damn spooky about the female side of the Scully family.
	A restless feeling nagged at him.  He needed to get out from the close 
confines of his apartment; he needed to get moving somewhere.  Normally, 
when such a mood struck, he would go running, but he wasn't quite up to a 
long run yet.  After some more internal debate, he decided to go for a walk, 
after all, you never knew whom or what you might run into.  Mulder yanked 
his long black winter coat off the rack and headed out the door.

******************************

Simon's Used Bookstore
Alexandria, Virginia 
	Scully had a restless feeling; she'd now looked at virtually every row 
the bookstore had to offer.  Who would have thought there could be twenty 
yards of books on electric trains?  Not to mention that wandering wasn't 
doing anything to get her mind off of Mulder.  Indeed, everywhere she 
turned, she kept running into things that reminded her of him.  Even while 
in the biology section, she'd found a whole row of books on worms.  She 
laughed a bit thinking she could have used them a while back while Mulder 
was tracking down that flukeworm.  As she remembered that case, she'd 
remembered that was when Mulder had told her that he was thinking of leaving 
the FBI.
	His words had literally knocked the breath out of her.  It was bad 
enough that they'd been separated as partners, but the thought of him gone 
for good had rocked her.  He'd told her that was becoming clear that they 
weren't going to let them work as partners and the hope that that would 
change was the only reason he could think to stay with the FBI.
	Later, she'd tried to tell him that she didn't want him to go.  It had 
come out all wrong.  She'd babbled something about how she hoped that he 
knew that she would consider it more than a professional loss if he were to 
leave the FBI.  It had come out sounding so completely lame that she'd been 
mortified.  Mulder had merely looked at her blankly and nodded slightly.  
Gee, she told herself contemptuously, he'd probably been *so underwhelmed* 
by that persuasive outpouring of emotion, that he didn't know what to say.  
God, I'm just *such* a loser sometimes, she thought.
	It wasn't until Mulder had been partnered with that bastard Krycek, that 
it had finally dawned on Scully that he was really no really no longer her 
partner.  As much as that hurt, she also realized that action had also 
lifted the professional barrier between them.  As far as Scully was 
concerned, their professional relationship had been the least of the 
restrains that had separated them but still, it had been there and now it 
was gone.
	After her pathetic little speech, she'd started to do a little better at 
communicating her feelings.  She'd played with him softly and seductively on 
the phone about his new partner, telling him with her words that it must be 
nice to have someone who didn't poke holes in all his theories, but her tone 
really asking if he missed her.  In response, she could almost feel his 
smile and surprise over the phone line.  He'd responded with his voice 
lowered to that soft growl as he teased her back, his slightly stammering 
words telling her that he didn't know how he'd put up with her so long, but 
his tone telling her that he'd loved every minute of it and that he missed 
her.
	But before she could act any further, she'd run out of time.  Duane 
Barry, among the so many other things he'd taken from her, had taken Mulder 
away from her too.
	"Dana!"
	Scully was startled out of her thought when she heard Melissa scream her 
name and she went running back to where Melissa was only to discover that 
she wasn't in the paperback section anymore.  Scully looked about 
frantically, searching, but she couldn't see through the tall shelves and 
stacks of books.
	"Melissa?  Melissa where are you?" she called.
	She heard Melissa's voice come over the shelves.  "I'm over here."  
Scully relaxed a bit, nothing appeared to be terribly wrong.
	"Where are you?" she called again.
	"Here."  Melissa supplied helpfully.
	"WHERE here?"  Scully yelled in irritation.
	"Against the very back wall on the right.  Get over here.  Now!"
	Scully ran down the main aisle to the back wall where the used magazines 
were stacked by category.  There she found again found Melissa sitting on 
the floor in front of tall stack of magazines, clutching a one to her chest.  
She appeared to have all her body parts and no one was holding a knife to 
her throat.  I swear, Scully thought, if she screamed like that because she 
saw a cute purse in a 10-year old catalog, I'm gonna kill her
	"What, what is it?"
	"You have to see this - I can't fucking believe it."  Melissa was 
giggling like a 12-year old.
	"See WHAT Melissa?"
	Melissa held up a magazine in triumph.  It was an ancient edition of  
Playgirl sporting a stunning young surfer on the cover.  Jesus Christ, 
Scully thought in exasperation, she'd scared the shit out of her over that?  
"Melissa, for God's sake, it hasn't been that long," Scully hissed, "I do 
remember what a nude man looks like!"
	Melissa grinned and shook her head.  "Not this one, I bet."  She opened 
the magazine and held it up as Scully leaned over to focus in.  A very young 
and very naked Mulder stared back at her.
	Scully screamed.  It was most definitely a girly scream.

******************************


Old Town Shopping District
Alexandria, Virginia

	Mulder had been wandering for quite some time.  The cold brisk day was 
refreshing and he felt physically better now that he was outside the 
confines of his apartment.  In spite of his best intentions, he'd found 
himself walking down the street where the restaurant Scully had said she'd 
be at was.  He knew this part of the city well, just a few blocks over there 
was a used bookstore that he visited often.  Feeling like a total blockhead, 
but too far gone to care, he'd casually walked by the restaurant a few 
times, surreptitiously looking in the window.  By the third pass, it was 
clear that Scully wasn't in there, although he was sure the patrons by the 
window thought him a little strange.
	He stood on the corner a few moments trying to decide what to do and 
where to go as he scanned the parked cars on the street, looking for 
Scully's.  Of course, Melissa could have driven, he remembered.  Of course, 
he could always pass her a note in study hall on Monday too, he thought 
ruefully, his overt adolescent behavior making him somewhat foolish even as 
he indulged it.  Why was he as such a loss for words around her?  When they 
fought, he always had plenty to say.  When they were in danger, he had no 
problems talking.  But when it was just *them*, talking about personal 
matters he almost squirmed.
	He remembered when he'd been partnered with that rat-bastard Krycek.  
He'd been consulting Scully on his cell phone when his new partner walked 
up.  Scully heard and suddenly her expressive voice turned soft & seductive 
on him as she'd teased him about how it must be nice to not have a partner 
who second-guessed his every move.  He'd actually stammered as he told her 
that he hadn't known how he'd put up with her so long, but really longing 
telling her that he wouldn't have traded a moment of it.  Then a silence 
came over the line; a silence where he should have said something else, he 
*could* have said something else because, after all, she wasn't his partner 
anymore and it wouldn't have been in appropriate in the least.  He'd had no 
professional excuse for his hesitation, only personal ones and so he hadn't 
said what he wanted to.  She'd opened the door and he'd just stood there 
even though he knew it probably wouldn't be slammed in his face.  Then, just 
a few days later, she'd been abducted.  God, I'm *such* a loser sometimes, 
he thought.
	He was startled out of his reverie when someone asked him if he was lost 
because he'd been rooted to the same spot for quite some time.  Mulder shook 
his head and began walking again.  He was lost all right, but just not quite 
the way the passerby had thought.  He continued his stroll along the quaint 
brick streets and historical buildings, winding his way towards the bay 
front.  A wander along the many parks along Oronoco Bay might be the thing 
he needed to get his mind off Scully.
	As he walked, he stopped to look in the windows of Simon's Used 
Bookstore.  Mulder had frequented the store for years and knew the owner 
Simon, a long-retired DC cop, pretty well.  As he did for all his regular 
customers, the old man kept a eye out for new acquisitions that would be of 
interest to them so he would call Mulder from time to time when something 
new on UFOs or other paranormal phenomena would come in.  Mulder considered 
going in for a bit, but he knew that Simon would want to talk.  Once the old 
man had discovered that Mulder worked for the FBI, Simon had apparently 
decided they were comrades and he would regale Mulder with long stories 
about getting the bad guys.  Lately, being from the old school, Simon often 
teased Mulder about having a woman for a partner.  He kept asking him when 
he was going to bring his "lady friend" in.  Mulder would explain that she 
was a partner and not a lady friend.  Simon would just smile and offer up 
some free and unsolicited advice on Mulder's personal life.  Most of the 
time, Mulder didn't mind, in fact he was kind of fond of the old guy, but 
today he just didn't want to deal with it so he moved on past the window.
	"Fox!"  Sighing inwardly, Mulder turned to see Simon standing in doorway 
of his store.  He'd obviously seen him though the windows.  "Fox, you're not 
coming in?" the old man asked as he shuffled over toward him on the 
sidewalk.
	"Hi Simon.  No, I can't today.  I have to be somewhere."
	"Always in a hurry, Fox."
	"Not always, Simon.  Just today."
	"Off to see your lady friend?"  Simon smiled as he teased the younger 
man.
	Don't I wish, Mulder thought as he played along with a half-hearted 
smile.  "Nope.  Not today, Simon.  She ditched me."
	"What, ditch a good looking guy like you?  Women - go figure!"  Simon 
retorted.  "Come on in, I've got a new shipment you can look through."
	Mulder begged off.  "Simon, really, I really can't right now - but save 
them for me." 
	Suddenly from deep inside the store a playful scream emanated followed 
by some loud giggling and the sound of crashing books.  Simon looked at 
Mulder in exasperation.  "Damn kids, they're always getting into something.  
Well, take care Fox, you look tired.  Get that lady partner of yours to take 
better care of you."  With that, the old man turned and headed back in the 
shop to go make some teenaged girls get back in line.
	"You take care too, Simon," Mulder said eternally grateful for fate 
stepping in and taking Simon's attention.  Mulder moved on, crossing the 
street quickly before Simon could come back and turned the corner, heading 
on to the waterfront again.  As he walked, he thought about his "lady 
friend" and about how he would love to get her to take care of him and about 
how he would love to take care of her.  Forever.
	Yes, this was a *great* idea, he thought ironically; this walk was just 
doing wonders for getting his mind off of Scully.

******************************


Simon's Used Bookstore
Alexandria, Virginia.
	
	Upon hearing the screams from the back of his store, the owner came 
running.  As he came around the corner, he was surprised to see two grown 
women instead of the teenagers he was expecting.  Scully, who had knocked 
over a stack of books as she'd snatched the magazine from her sister's 
hands, instinctively hid it behind her back as though the old man was going 
take it away from her.
	"What the hell is going on here?" he asked in irritation after 
determining that neither woman was bleeding or being held at gunpoint.
	"I saw a mouse?"  Melissa offered lamely as she quickly went to work 
stacking the books back up.
	"Lady, I got real customers and since, " he looked pointedly at Scully, 
"we already got to hear all about your sex life a little earlier, would you 
two mind moving along?"
	Melissa finished replacing the last book.  "Pay the nice man for the 
magazine, Dana," she said with as much dignity as she could muster.  They 
followed the man to the counter, paid for the magazine and almost ran out 
onto the sidewalk.  Once safely outside, they sat on a bench and quickly 
turned back to page 41.  They looked at the magazine, looked at each other 
and both screamed again.
	"How did you find this Melissa?"
	"I was just digging through the whole stack and it was just there, about 
the 9th or 10th one I looked at."  Scully looked over at her sister 
pointedly.  "I was looking for an article," Melissa insisted.
	Yeah right, Scully thought turning back to the magazine.  Oh God, oh 
God, oh God, her mind chanted in mischievous and completely adolescent glee.  
Naked Mulder.  Scully flipped the magazine closed and looked at the date on 
the cover.  Mulder would have been 21 or so.
	The photo wasn't one of the professional model shots; it was in the 
section where people sent in home photos of their favorite naked husbands or 
boyfriends.  It was absolutely, positively Mulder, clear down to the mole on 
his cheek.  The caption below said, "A Yank at Oxford."  It was a stunningly 
sensuous photograph in black and white, large, clear, sharp and leaving no 
doubts as to Mulder's religious background.
	"Holy shit, what a babe," came Melissa's elegant assessment.  "That 
could be in a museum."
	Scully nodded in agreement.  Mulder did look like a work of art, he was 
sprawled on his back on a huge bed filled with crumpled white sheets and 
pillows, his head rested on one arm behind his head and the other the other 
curled gracefully over his flat belly.  One leg bent upwards and the other 
stretched out.  Sunlight streamed in to the picture from somewhere, creating 
shadows and highlights across his skin.  His dark hair was longer than it 
was now, but one strand still flopped over his forehead in that same manner 
that had teased Scully for the last two years.  The rest was tousled and 
spilled down the side of his neck and over the pillow under his head.  
Stupidly, she reached out and touched it in the photograph, noticing as she 
did so that he was wearing a small hoop earring.  Her eyes moved down the 
lean body, taking in every rounded curve and flat plane...
	"Who the hell would have thought a body like *that* lurked under that 
boring gray FBI suit?"  Melissa asked peering over her shoulder.
	I knew, Scully thought as she continued her slow perusal.  I knew.  I 
knew just by the way he moved, walked, and wore his clothes that he was this 
beautiful.  Mulder's body had been something of much idle speculation in her 
mind.  She'd been careful to be covert in her observations of him ever since 
that incident on their second case together.  She'd been sitting on the 
chair in her dingy hotel room as Mulder stood at the window, gazing out as 
he talked.  As she listened, her eyes had wandered down from his profile, to 
where his hands were placed on his hips as he shifted his weight to one leg.  
She took in the sight of his firm, rounded ass encased in blue jeans.  She 
was just thinking that it was really quite impressive, when he'd turned back 
to her suddenly and she'd raised her eyes quickly.  He hadn't said anything, 
but she was never sure if he'd caught her looking or not.
	  While it was true that in the last two years she'd seen him in all 
various states of undress, somehow, while she was administering cardiac 
shock or trying to keep his blood from coagulating it just hadn't seemed 
like the appropriate time to take full inventory.  The photograph simply 
confirmed what she'd suspected and put together in one package what she'd 
only seen bits and pieces of as she returned to her careful perusal.
	Mulder's chest had wonderful definition with that beautiful hollow over 
his heart where a hand could be perfectly placed to feel its beating.  Just 
a smattering a chest hair led down to the delineated muscles of his stomach 
and deep set naval.  The photo revealed long, lean, but hard-muscled legs, 
the thighs solid and merging into slim hips which then segued to another 
downy trail leading to the proverbial Holy Grail nestled in a courser bed of 
hair and lying in well-endowed repose like its owner.  That's just as well, 
Scully thought with a smile.  A photo of Mulder fully erect may have caused 
her to leave a puddle in the street.
	"Well, it looks like God gifted Mulder with both a great mind and more 
than enough of the essential equipment to, ah, perpetuate his gene pool."  
Melissa interrupted her thoughts again with a lascivious tone.
	"Melissa!"  Scully lifted her eyes to glare at her sister.  "Do you mind  
- I think I'm having a epiphany here."
	"Is that what they call them now?"  Melissa asked with a laugh.  
"Besides, I was trying to couch it in terms you would appreciate, I would 
have just said he's really well hung to anyone else!"
	Scully closed her eyes and dropped her head with a sigh.  This is what 
my life has come to, she thought.  Come Monday, I'll have to sit across the 
desk from Mulder and try to look at him without the phase, "well hung," 
springing to mind.  Of course, the photograph only confirmed her 
speculations in that area too, after all, she hadn't been *that* busy while 
in her Doctor Mode.  Suddenly, she had guilt attack; I'm sitting here 
evaluating the merits of my partner's cock like it's a case file, she 
thought.  Scully suddenly closed the magazine.
	"Excuse me, but I wasn't through looking!"  Melissa protested.
	"I feel like I'm invading his privacy," she said.
	"What privacy?  It's not like you're peeking though his bathroom window.  
Obviously Mulder knew that quite a few women and probably a few men were 
going to get a gander when it was published."
	Scully nodded in agreement, but still somehow feeling like she was being 
intrusive.  The photograph itself didn't bother her in the least, it was 
beautiful and she found nothing vulgar about it - She would have loved to 
have such a photo of the man she loved looking at her like that.  No - It 
was the *publication* of the photo that confused her.  Somehow, someway, 
this kind of smug and egotistical exhibition seemed very out of character 
from what she knew, or at least what she'd thought she knew of her partner.
	It was true that Mulder never failed to miss a sexual innuendo or a 
double-entendre and judging from his rather extensive magazine and video 
collection, he was certainly not a neophyte to sexual innovations.  However, 
even knowing all that, in her mind there had always been something 
charmingly, well... nerdy about Mulder.  Certainly not uninitiated or 
unpracticed sexually, but still somehow guileless.  But then again, maybe 
again she didn't know him at all.  This was from a long time ago, long 
before she'd even heard of Fox Mulder or the X-Files.  Back when he was a 
"Yank at Oxford," she was reminded as she flipped open the magazine again.
	I wonder what possessed him, she thought, examining the photo in detail.
	The expression in Mulder's eyes back then was far less wounded than the 
eyes she loved so well now.  She knew that change had less to do with 
physical youth and more to do with what those eyes had seen in the ensuing 
years.  She noticed again the manner in which he was gazing at the camera; 
his sleepy, soft gaze turned towards the camera as though someone had called 
his name and he'd awakened from a very good dream indeed.  His expression 
was both seductive and well satiated, his full lips parted slightly in the 
beginnings of a smile meant for the person taking the picture.
	The person taking the picture.  The light finally went on in Scully's 
brain.
	Phoebe Green.
	Of course, she thought.  Phoebe is what, or rather who, had possessed 
him - He'd loved her enough to pose for the thing to please her.  Scully 
just knew that if Phoebe had asked, Mulder would have let that snotty, upper 
class, egotistical bitch take and publish this picture just as she was sure 
that Phoebe would have liked to show off her trophy.  That beautiful gaze, 
that almost shy smile was meant for Phoebe Green.  
	*Shit*.
	Scully was immediately transported into a foul mood, even as her heart 
constricted a bit.  The knowledge that one point in his life, Mulder was 
comfortable and light-hearted with another woman enough to do this just 
somehow bugged the ever living crap out of her as the jealously began to 
seethe within.  I can't even get him to stop ditching me, she thought, and 
yet for Phoebe he was ripping his clothes off and lying in splendid repose 
for her to show to the world.  In fact, the more she thought about it, the 
more it really pissed her off and irrationally she was focusing that anger 
at Mulder.  Phoebe, she thought in disgust, she should have known.
	"Who's Phoebe?"
	Melissa's question interrupted her thoughts and Scully hadn't realized 
that she'd spoken the name aloud.  Or had, she?  She never knew with 
Melissa.  Suddenly feeling very agitated; Scully closed the magazine and 
handed it back to Melissa.  She stood up from the bench and started walking.  
She needed to get moving, get some activity going besides looking at the 
pictures forming in her head of Mulder and Phoebe.
	"Dana, what it?"  When she didn't answer or turn back, Melissa got up 
and followed her down the street.
	Melissa allowed her sister her silence as they wandered the brick 
streets, heading towards the bay and the parks.  Eventually, they ended up 
near the children's playground with the tall slides and big swings left from 
a time when cities still felt safe about letting children play in public 
parks without fear of parental lawsuit.  The park was nearly deserted due to 
the cold weather.
	Scully hadn't spoken a word or lifted her eyes from the ground as she 
walked.
	"Dana, what's going in your head?"  Melissa asked finally.
	Scully shook her head just slightly, feeling oddly close to frustrated 
tears and she wasn't sure she could make Melissa understand if she didn't 
fully understand herself.  It was well over a year ago that she'd first 
learned about Phoebe Green.  She still had the picture in her mind of Phoebe 
in Mulder's arms as they'd danced, of when he'd kissed her.  She hadn't been 
meant to see that, it was a private moment and she'd just happened into to 
it.  However, it had disturbed her more than she would have thought and it 
had been a long time fading in her mind, but it had never left completely.  
The problem was now she had a new picture in her mind.  Now, she was 
imagining Phoebe and Mulder together all those years ago at Oxford when this 
picture was taken, back when he was the kind of person who would let someone 
love him.  She was imagining what she missed, missing what she'd never had.
	Melissa saw the varied emotions crossing her sister's face and was 
worried.  "Dana, talk to me!"  she finally demanded impatiently, touching 
her arm.  "Look, I know how you feel about Mulder, you know you can't hide 
that from me.  So talk to me God damn it!  What's the story here with Mulder 
and this Phoebe?"
	Scully took a bit of time answering.  "Phoebe was Mulder's lover while 
he was at Oxford," she finally said.  "She's the one who took this picture, 
I know it."
	"What makes you say that?"
	"Because he loved her, because I think he would have done anything to 
please her."
	"You don't know that," Melissa said practically.
	Scully turned to her sister, exasperated at begin second-guessed on what 
she knew.  "Look at the damn photo Melissa.  Look at it!  Tell me I'm wrong 
about how he felt about her."
	Melissa looked again at the magazine, this time concentrating on 
Mulder's face for the first time.  She shook her head slightly - She 
couldn't honestly tell Dana she was wrong.  She slid the magazine back into 
the bag and looked at her sister.  "So what do you know about this Phoebe?"
	"I met her when she blew into town last year.  She and Mulder had 
attended Oxford together.  She's an agent with Scotland Yard now and she 
requested Mulder's help on a case.  He didn't seem at all happy to see her 
again and I'd kind of teased him at first because it was obvious they had 
had a past of some sort, but I hadn't realized the extent of it."  Scully 
was quiet a moment before she continued.  "I had the impression she was the 
one who'd broken it off, I overheard him tell her that she'd driven a stake 
through his heart.  But Phoebe was all over him though."
	"So do you think she was on the prowl again?"
	"I thought so at first, but later it became more obvious what she was up 
to.  Mulder had told me that Phoebe liked to play mind games and I certainly 
saw first-hand evidence of that."
	"Like what?"
	Scully shook her head as she remembered Phoebe's rather sick game.  
"Mulder went off to Oxford at an early age, but more than that, I think he 
was pretty young & raw emotionally too.  Even Mulder admitted that he'd 
gotten in over his head with her in the past.  I think their relationship 
may have been one where Mulder was constantly trying to gain her approval or 
respect, almost like she was the damn prom queen and he was the high-school 
geek that she deigned to turn her gaze to."
	Scully's voice was full of disdain as she continued.  "Phoebe called 
Mulder in on a arson case knowing full well that he had deep fear of fire.  
She very deliberately pulled him into a situation where he was likely to 
falter.  It was almost like she could use Mulder to solve a case and amuse 
herself at the same time.  I think she did it because she wanted to see him 
struggle and fail."
	"Did he?"
	Her sister nodded.  "At first.  There was a fire in a hotel and he 
froze."  Scully sighed, remembering Mulder's self-recriminations.  "God 
Melissa, he was so ashamed, so angry at himself.  Later, he took control 
back on the case and saved the lives of two children, but Phoebe had already 
done her damage.  She'd already screwed him over and made him feel 
worthless."
	"Jesus, she sounds like quite a piece of work."
	"She is that," Scully agreed with contempt.
	"But why would Mulder ever even be involved with someone like that?"
	Scully shrugged, it was certainly a question she asked herself many 
times.  "I think it's as simple as he couldn't see what she really was 
because he was obsessed with trying to gain something he thought was 
unobtainable.  That's very much his nature."
	Her sister was spilling this story far too slow for Melissa's taste.  
"So, you said she was coming on to him, did Mulder return her attention?"
	"I saw him kiss her.  They were dancing together and I saw him kiss her.  
It seemed almost like he was testing the waters again."
	Melissa waited for more information and when it wasn't forthcoming, she 
asked, "Well?  Did he plunge in?"
	"No."  Scully shook her head.  "We solved the case and Phoebe was gone 
as suddenly as she'd arrived."
	"So do you think he's still in love with her?"
	Scully had thought about that question a lot.  In spite of what she'd 
seen, she was confident in her conclusion.  "No," she answered honestly.  "I 
don't think he's still in love with her.  I think he finally shook her loose 
from his head."
	"Ok, he doesn't love her, she's long gone and you're here.  I'm a little 
confused as to why you're upset about her then."
	You're not the only one, Scully thought.  "It's not Phoebe herself, but 
what she left behind that bothers me.  She may be gone, but her lingering 
after-affects live on in Mulder.  I think she twisted him up so badly that 
he may never get un-kinked.
	Melissa reached out and touched her arm with a smile.  "Well, maybe 
kinky's not so bad.  You can work with it."
	Scully gave a small laugh.  Like Mulder, Melissa could always make her 
smile in spite of a black mood.  "No, kinky is not so bad," she agreed.
	"So I still don't get it  - what's the deal?"
	Scully could almost hear her sister's mind whirring away and she knew 
Melissa was gearing up to tell her the optimistic, touchy-feely obvious.  
All that bullshit romantic idealism that had so little chance for survival 
when planted in the harsh soil of Scully's real world.
	She turned to her sister with frustration and a certain sadness in her 
voice.  "The deal is, Melissa, is that just everything connected to Mulder 
scares me to death.  I'm scared that he'll never allow me to love him, or 
let me be close to him.  But you know, in a weird way, I'm also scared of 
getting what I want as much as I'm scared of not getting what I want.  I 
mean, Mulder exists in such an intense and fragile state.  It's like his 
entire world is built on a soap bubble.  His convictions are as strong as 
his doubts and he scares me because I think that it's entirely possible that 
he's a bit unstable and yet, for some reason, *I don't seem to care*!  I 
mean, sometimes I'm not sure if I love him *because* of all that he is or 
*in spite* of all that he is.  The fact that I've allowed myself to become 
so unbalanced scares me.  I mean really - who the hell am I to judge 
Mulder's stability when the reality is that I'm an equal mess who's just 
little better at hiding it."
	Scully ran out of gas with her tirade and fell silent.  She wandered 
over to one of the empty swings and sank down heavily in defeat.  Melissa 
dropped her purse and the paper bag on the nearby park bench and walked over 
to where her sister sat staring at her feet so forlornly.  She sat down on 
the adjoining swing.  "Wow - That's a lot of fucking scary," Melissa said 
with no sarcasm, just compassion.
	"Yes, indeed," Scully nodded in melancholy agreement.  "That's lots and 
lots of fucking scary." 

******************************


Waterfront Park
Alexandria, Virginia

	Mulder had walked virtually the entire length of the bay.  The late 
afternoon coldness of the day and the warmth of his coat had strangely 
comforted him.  He should have brought gloves, but instead made do by 
burying his hands deep in pockets of the long wool coat he wore.
	He stopped to gaze out over the water.  Mulder loved the sea, or at 
least, he liked the idea of the sea.  The reality of seasickness had made 
him realize early on that a life on the water was not going to work out for 
him, but something about its vastness and unknown depths appealed to him 
anyway.  Perhaps for the same reasons the vastness of space caught and held 
his imagination even before his sister had disappeared.  He watched a 
particularly large ship smooth by slowly to its homeport.  He didn't know 
what kind of craft it was and wished he did.  If Scully were here, she could 
tell him, he thought.
	The daughter of a naval captain, Scully knew boats.  She could name 
virtually every naval & air craft, which had impressed the hell out of him 
the first time he'd discovered it.  Of course most things about Scully 
surprised and delighted him as he discovered them.  The far-reaching bulk of 
her knowledge never ceased to amaze him.  Beyond loving her, he also took 
such pride in having her as his partner.
	It certainly hadn't started out that way.  He'd fought Scully's 
assignment to the X-Files bitterly.  When Skinner had called him in and told 
him that Blevins had decided to assign him a partner, he knew what was up.  
He knew the FBI didn't have any interest in assisting his investigations.  
There wasn't a doubt in his mind that the partner that he hadn't asked for, 
didn't want and didn't need was there to spy on him; there to find reason to 
shut him down.  So he'd decided to check her out before she got there in 
order to facilitate his campaign to get rid of her.
	Everything he discovered about Dr. Dana Katherine Scully intrigued him.
	She'd been a navy brat and Mulder knew that meant she'd moved often as a 
child.  That she would have had to learn to deal with new towns, new people 
and new schools, always leaving the familiar behind.  She'd earned her 
undergraduate degree in physics, graduating with honors.  In spite of 
himself, he'd had to admire that she'd even had the temerity to re-write 
Einstein in her senior thesis.  He'd read the whole damn thing, although he 
hadn't understood a hell of a lot of it.
	From there, she'd apparently thought a degree in medicine was her next 
best move.  But instead of going into practice, she was recruited by the 
FBI; a good-old-boy outfit if ever there was one.  She'd completed her 
internship and residency and she'd excelled in everything she'd been 
assigned to.  Challenge was clearly not something this woman backed down 
from and even before he'd laid eyes on her, it was clear to Mulder that Dana 
Scully was a woman of substance.  He'd thought that it was almost too bad he 
had to get rid of her somehow as he geared himself up to repel the slight 
intruder in his world.
	But Scully was not a woman easily dismissed.  Over the past two years 
he'd occasionally seen some guy attempt to discount her simply because she 
was a woman.  He'd actually enjoyed watching her mentally slice and dice 
some poor sap who had quite mistakenly thought he'd had the upper hand 
solely on the basis he had dick.  It turned out she also wasn't half-bad at 
physically kicking someone's butt if needs be and in the end, she'd 
certainly saved his ass on more than one occasion from the tropics of Puerto 
Rico to the frozen wastelands of the North Pole.
	Mulder settled into a park bench and sipped the hot coffee he'd bought 
at Starbucks up the street.  It was pretty deserted out, just the occasional 
jogger or couple strolling by, people who had the privilege of living real 
lives.  People who didn't know what he and Scully knew.  People who didn't 
need to live and work in shadows, trying to determine what lie or truth to 
believe and struggling constantly to outwit those who sought to manipulate 
them.  Scully was good at that part of the game, he thought.  She'd 
outsmarted them all on numerous occasions, including himself.  She'd been 
the one to find him in Puerto Rico with the smallest of breadcrumbs.  
Although, to this day, he still wondered why she'd even bothered considering 
his callous behavior towards her during that time.  He'd been a selfish 
bastard; he knew that now.
	He'd been so discouraged at the closure of the X-Files project, so 
enraged at the tedious, unchallenging cases he'd been assigned.  His 
separation from Scully had depressed him more that he'd ever thought 
possible and so he'd defended himself the only way he knew how, with 
coldness and distance.
	His only excuse was that he'd been so used to being on his own that he'd 
just assumed that what had befallen them hadn't affected Scully the way it 
had affected him.  He'd been so involved in his own misery that it honestly 
hadn't occurred to him that Scully might be having difficulties too; that 
she might been feeling the same as he did about their separation and the 
shut-down of their work.  He'd just presumed that she'd moved on to her new 
assignment and had gotten back on the career track that had been derailed by 
her assignment to the X-Files
	He'd been wrong about it all, he knew that now.  Scully had quietly 
shown him he'd been wrong.  She'd come to him in that dark parking garage, 
having summoned him under false pretenses.  She'd told him that she needed 
to know how he was faring, needed to know if he was all right.  She'd pushed 
all the right buttons and she'd looked at him with such deep disquiet that 
he'd finally stepped away from his self-absorption long enough to realize 
that maybe she might be wounded by all that had happened too, that it hadn't 
happened to *just him*.  God, he really was an unbelievable ass sometimes.
	So he'd given her what she asked for; he told her of his frustrations, 
of the doubts he harbored about Samantha, of the jumbled mess that was his 
emotion state.  Scully hadn't offered any platitudes or false hopes.  With 
her soft firm voice, she'd simply insisted that he not give up, even if it 
all seemed too elusive to ever hang on to.  As they sat together in that 
dark garage, he was the one looking for the hard proof and she was the one 
encouraging a quest of faith.
	It was at that moment that he'd realized just how far they'd actually 
come together, how much each had gained from the other, how much they'd 
learned in spite of themselves.  It'd taken a long time and he'd fought it 
all the way, but it was during that time when they'd been separated as 
partners that he'd admitted to himself that he loved her.  Admitted that his 
need for her was far deeper and complex than the simple sexual attraction 
he'd also felt.  But then, before he could deal with on his realization, 
Duane Barry separated her completely from him.
	Duane Barry.  Just his name made Mulder rage in anger still.  
Rationally, he knew there'd been no way to predict that Barry would take 
Scully that night.  But even so, what remained is the fact that when his 
nightmares didn't revolve around Samantha calling out to him, they revolved 
around Scully's voice on his answering machine.  Her voice calling his name, 
begging him for help.  He'd never once, in all the time he'd known her and 
in all the situations they'd been in, heard her voice sound like that and it 
had deadened his heart as he'd listened to it.  Mulder closed his eyes, 
hardly able to stand the thought and a sweat broke out on his forehead.  He 
didn't need his Ph.D. to know that he was suffering from a kind of delayed 
stress syndrome from Scully's abduction and her equally perilous return just 
a few months ago.
	The weeks following Scully's abduction had so eerily mirrored the weeks 
following Samantha's disappearance that it was uncanny.  The hopeless 
unanswered questions, the dead ends, his inability to rectify the situation 
or have prevented it in the first place were all just further confirmation 
in his mind that he sucked at caring for the ones he loved best.
	He still remembered, with chilling clarity, the honestly sincere look on 
Barry's face as he said he hoped that "they" weren't hurting Scully too much 
with their experiments.  Mulder thought he would die right there.
	He'd been on the bleeding edge with seething rage and frustration when 
Skinner had sent him out to Los Angeles to investigate the strange vampire-
like murders occurring there.  Mulder was certain that the main reason 
Skinner had sent him to California was in the hope that when he finally fell 
prey to his self-destructive behavior he'd at least be in another state.  
What Skinner hadn't realized was that Mulder had been the perfect choice for 
the assignment.  By coincidence, Skinner had unknowingly sent the undead to 
investigate the possibility of the undead.  Mulder had worked the case 
methodically, automatically, in a trance - The undead wishing to be dead.  
But still, California had been a turning point for him.
	Before California, he'd been despondent down to the very soul he hadn't 
thought he possessed.  Before California, Mulder had wondered if death would 
afford him any alleviation from the ache.  In the weeks before California, 
when he was alone at night in the dark, the promise of such relief would 
beckon to him.  When he was tired, so very tired and afraid to sleep, he'd 
contemplated the tempting prospect of such a rest, considered the 
possibility.  But after California, after Kristen, he'd changed his mind.
	Kristen.  Mulder could recall her name, but not her face.  Perhaps 
because she'd been no more real to him than he'd been to her and the whole 
strange matter seemed so completely removed from him now, as though it had 
happened to someone else.  Perhaps in a very honest way, it had.  In the 
end, he and Kristen had used the other to feel human for just a moment that 
one night.  She'd accepted the release of his body and never questioned why 
he'd left her immediately, replaced Scully's cross about his neck and taken 
to the chair to sleep.  When Kristen had died the next day, the only emotion 
he'd felt was a sadness that she hadn't been able to find the peace she 
sought in the living world.  But he'd also decided that Kristen's way to 
that peace could not be his way.
	Scully was lost and he had to find her, he didn't have time for selfish, 
self-indulgent pity.  She'd called out to him for help and he still had to 
answer her - He couldn't have the last time he ever heard her say his name 
be in a cry of desperate fear.  He had to hear her say his name again in her 
warm, soothing voice that made him go weak inside.
	A few weeks later Scully had been returned to him.  He could take no 
credit for it.  Her return hadn't been due to any action on his part.  She'd 
simply appeared in that hospital bed, tethered to what seemed dozens of 
machines, her eyes taped shut and while one nightmare had ended another had 
begun.  Yet, somehow, they'd come through that one together too.
	He still remembered the moment she'd turned towards him as he came into 
her room and said his name.  It was the moment he'd dreamed about and hung 
on to since she'd been taken from him.  Mulder was not a man used to getting 
wishes granted or prayers answered.  The feeling of humbleness had 
overwhelmed him to the point where he'd had to leave the room within a few 
moments until he could get a grasp on his running emotions.
	He'd never loved her so well or thought her more beautiful than at that 
moment.
	He hadn't realized Scully's beauty at first.  When he'd first met her, 
he's noted that she was attractive of course, but he'd been so completely 
tied up in defensively testing her that her deep heart-stopping beauty had 
snuck up on him somehow.  It had always been there of course, he'd just been 
an idiot with blinders on, but her pull on him had been there long before 
he'd finally had the courage to give a name to what he felt.
	Originally, he'd hoped to use some moment of incompetence to get the 
little spy out of his basement office.  However, it was apparent before they 
had even gotten to Oregon on that first case that that just wasn't going to 
happen.  Scully had already gone through the case files, found the small 
facts, laced them together and had drawn the correct conclusions.  
Reluctantly, he'd had to acknowledge she was good.  "Better than you thought 
or better than you hoped?" she'd asked him dryly when he'd arrogantly voiced 
his approval to her and he knew that getting rid of her would be no easy 
matter.
	In the next few days, her demeanor was calm, assured, detached & 
professional - and she'd questioned every move he made.  But he'd also 
discovered something else on that first case: the seemingly self-possessed 
Dr. Scully had a vulnerable side.
	In the middle of a dark rainstorm, he been taken aback when, shaking and 
clutching her robe about her, she'd knocked on his hotel room door and asked 
him to look at the marks she'd found on her lower back.  Certainly, part of 
his surprise came from the obvious; his new partner was standing there in 
her underwear asking him to look at her body by candlelight.  He'd been so 
flustered that he'd not even had the presence of mind to take close 
inventory; an opportunity lost that he'd long since regretted.
	More than that though, there was the knowledge that Scully had honestly 
been very frightened and she'd come to him.  She'd believed that he would 
somehow, someway help her if there were something wrong.  As a rule, he 
wasn't used to that kind of faith and the realization she'd decided to place 
her trust in him had kind of upset his resolve to be coolly distant.
	That night, the storm and the darkness had somehow been conducive to 
letting down barriers and they'd talked for hours.  He'd told her of sister, 
something he'd discussed with almost no one, and about how he'd come to find 
the X-Files.  He decided that he might as well be honest so he even told her 
that he believed she was being used as part of the agenda of conspiracy.  
She'd denied it of course - any good spy would - but strangely, he'd wanted 
to believe her.
	Even more strangely, just a day or so later, he started to believe her.
	In the middle of the night, in a freezing rain, he and Scully stood 
facing each other over an open grave.  They were wet, tired, cold and 
seemingly at a dead end.  Perhaps encouraged by their talk the night before, 
he suddenly decided that now was the time to blurt out his entire theory on 
the case, including the whole alien abduction part.  As he looked into her 
increasingly incredulous face, it was painfully apparent that she thought he 
was deranged.  He'd turned and walked away, feeling more disappointment than 
he'd thought possible.
	But something made him look back her way and that's when he saw the 
change in her face.  He saw that in spite of her initial instinct to dismiss 
it, her mind began to process his information.  She began speaking; applying 
her cold logic to his theory as though it was actual possibility.  Mulder 
began to shake, not with the cold, but with the excitement of someone 
finally, finally listening to him and he crossed back over to her, to look 
down at her face.  He knew better than to think she would buy into it 
totally, but to just have someone give some slight credence to his notions 
gave him physical rush.
	Suddenly, she'd begun to laugh - Not at him but at herself, he realized.  
She laughed because she'd caught herself speculating on his theory as though 
it was actually a possibility.  She'd truly considered the fantastic as a 
plausibility for the first time and the realization had so astounded her 
that she'd broken into wild laughter.  He'd found himself laughing along 
with her.
	As Scully quieted down, her eyes met his for a moment before she looked 
away.  At that moment, he'd wondered for the first time what it would be 
like to kiss her, what her touch would feel like on his skin, how it would 
feel to be buried deep within her and have her look up into his eyes as he 
moved over her.  Caught deep in the unexpected grip of that thought, he'd 
even leaned just slightly towards her before an uncharacteristic jolt of 
good sense jerked him back to reality.  He'd stood for a moment, just 
looking down at the woman whom he now felt was his partner, the fleeting 
temptation in his heart gone for the moment, but by no means gone for good.
	Because of her slight build, and delicate features a fool might have 
easily discounted her, might not fathomed her depth of heart and the 
strength of her mind.  *They* had made that mistake, Mulder thought, smiling 
at the delicious irony of it.  His adversaries in this strange game, 
intending to use Scully as their means of destruction, had actually sent her 
to him.  Once again, Mulder realized that there were no coincidences, for 
instead of assisting in his ruin, she'd become his vindication.
	Scully had questioned his motives, his theory, and his focus.  She'd 
challenged what he saw as the truth, even forcing him to look at himself 
through her eyes on occasion.  She'd never been afraid to call him on it 
when he acted like a selfish bastard, which had been often.  She'd made him 
realize there was value to hard evidence she demanded from him.  Over time, 
and for reasons he still didn't comprehend, she'd become a defender of his 
faith though not a convert herself.  She'd become his resolute ally in his 
search for answers.  When he faltered, she was his formidable champion who 
protected him from evils both within and without.
	"Mulder, I wouldn't put myself on the line for anyone but you," she'd 
said to him once in a simple honest affirmation that he knew in his heart 
was true.  Those words and the knowledge that he was no longer alone in this 
had both rocked him to his core and terrified him.
	In trusting her, he'd lost his singular edge for now he thought in terms 
of "we" more often than "I."  In allowing himself to love her, he'd given 
her a certain dominion over himself now too.  Scully owned him, certainly by 
soul if not by body yet, but if she was aware of that power she never let 
on, she'd never used it to her advantage.  She'd never acted without the 
reason that ruled her mind or the compassion that ruled her heart.  However, 
there were times when a look or the tone of her voice made him feel that she 
was aware of his feelings and that she was waiting  - just like him.
	In a lot of ways, his life was really much easier when he'd just been a 
solitary selfish spooky bastard.  Really, he'd managed just fine - no one 
but himself to consider.  But Mulder never lied to himself - He knew he was 
going to crack.  He wasn't sure where or when, but he knew it was going to 
happen because otherwise, he was going to go insane.  *Really insane*, not 
just the simple insane that everyone already thought he was.
	With a sigh he got up from the bench, tossed the empty coffee cup in the 
trash and continued his northern walk along the bays.



Children's Playground
Alexandria Virginia

	Melissa began to rock her swing gently, reaching over and giving her 
sister a push as she had when they were young.  "Hey, I haven't done this 
for a while have you?"
	Scully glanced over at her sister and smiled a bit.  "No - One of *many* 
things I haven't done in a while," she said with no small amount of irony.
	Melissa laughed softly as she wondered why two of the smartest and most 
intuitive people she knew could actually be so damn dim.  Fate was going to 
have to take a hand because these people needed help.  She wondered if her 
sister's belief in the hopelessness of her situation was a resolute as she 
claimed.
	"Dana, I think you should ask for a transfer."
	Scully brought her swing to a halt, turning to stare at her sister, 
truly in shock.  "What?" she shook her head as though to clear it, "What?"
	"From what you just got through saying, Mulder is a mess and he's 
turning you into one.  You have to get out now."
	"What is this Melissa, reverse psychology?"  Scully asked with quiet 
anger.
	Melissa ignored the challenge and instead responded quietly.  "He hurts 
you Dana.  If it's as bad as you say, you can't live like that."
	Scully fell silent.  What Melissa said was true, but she just couldn't 
imagine her life without Mulder in it.  No longer her partner, no longer her 
friend, never her lover.  She wouldn't want to live a life where Mulder was 
just someone she'd send a Christmas card to once a year.  The thought of it 
was draining on her emotionally and physically.  "I don't know that I could 
ever walk away."  She admitted quietly.  "I don't know that I could go back 
and live another way."
	"Sure you can - you did before you started working with Mulder."
	"It was different then, I wasn't..." Scully trailed off.  She wasn't 
what?  She's been about to say, "involved."  However, she wasn't "involved" 
now.  What the hell was she?  She closed her eyes a moment.
	The last rays of the setting sun glinted off Scully's gold cross 
necklace, catching Melissa's eye.  She reached out and gently lifted the 
tiny symbol of faith to look at it more closely, noticing that it fit 
entirely on the very tip of her index finger.  Melissa remembered something 
vaguely from her childhood Sunday school days about all that it took for a 
miracle was faith the size of a mustard seed.  Maybe her brilliant sister 
just didn't get that miracles can be born of the heart too.
	"You know, it's really amazing that Mulder found this," she said as Dana 
nodded in agreement.  "Mom told me that he'd tried to give it to her but 
that she made him hold on to it.  She thought he'd needed it more."
	Scully smiled a little wistfully.  "That sounds like Mom."  Her mother 
had always been the finder of lost things, the one to bring home the 
abandoned puppies and the birds with the broken wings.  Mulder had been no 
different and her mother had taken to him immediately.  Oddly, Mulder seemed 
to like her mother and he allowed her familiarities that he didn't allow 
others.  Scully knew that in his heart, he was lonely for the ordinary 
family life the Scully's shared as much as he shied away from it.
	"Dana," Melissa interrupted her thoughts as she let the cross fall 
gently back to its resting spot, "did you know Mulder wore this over his 
heart when you were gone?"
	Scully shook her head slowly not sure what to make of the implication of 
such a seemingly un-Mulder like gesture.  "No.  I didn't know that.  How 
would you have known that?"
	"I can tell," she said cryptically.  At Dana's look, she continued with 
a smile, "OK - he also was wearing it when I came to his place to ask him to 
come to the hospital to see you."  Melissa leaned forward to look her sister 
straight in the eye, serious now.  "Dana, Mulder wants you to love him."
	Scully sighed as she shook her head.  "Wearing my cross as a remembrance 
doesn't mean...."
	"No," Melissa interrupted firmly.  "It wasn't a remembrance - it was 
faith.  He wore it because he knew that he was going to place it back in 
your hand, because you two had things left to do, things to say to each 
other."
	Scully eyes narrowed with obvious impatience at her sister's optimism.  
"And just how *the hell* would you know all that?"
	How indeed, Melissa wondered in frustration.  She just knew.  But she 
also knew that wasn't the kind of answer that her sister could accept and 
she had to try to make her understand.
"Dana, the first time I met Fox Mulder was in your hospital room.  He 
made damn sure that I knew that he thought my beliefs are trite and that he 
was going to somehow fix all the problems.  He said, 'I need to do more than 
just wave my hands.'  He was obsessed with looking at all the tangibles not 
the intangibles.  Later, we argued about whether or not your life support 
should be terminated as you'd requested.  He couldn't even bring himself to 
be in the room when your ventilator was turned off.  He never said a word to 
Mom directly, but he looked at me with such a sense of betrayal."  Melissa's 
voice cracked a bit and long-suppressed tears began fall silently in long 
suppressed guilt over her decision.
	In shock, Scully reached over and took Melissa's hands in hers.  "Missy, 
I've never felt you or Mom betrayed me - Never.  You did as I asked you to.  
You did nothing wrong, please don't feel you did.  Please."  Scully pleaded 
with her sister, "I can't explain why I made it back, but I do know you did 
nothing to hinder the journey.  I believe that in my heart, Melissa.  Please 
don't carry that burden."  Melissa held on to her hands tightly and Scully 
could see Melissa finding her self-forgiveness in the truth in her words.
	Melissa blinked back and controlled her tears as she raised her eyes.  
"But Dana, I think I do understand how you made your journey back, that's 
what I'm trying to tell you.  You see, at first I thought Mulder's actions 
were just a stubborn denial of your wishes, that he was on his own ego-trip 
that he could somehow fix everything.  But I was wrong, it wasn't about him, 
it was about you.  What drove him was a refusal to give up his rather 
intangible hope that you would love him."
	She cleared her throat as Scully looked at her with great curiosity.  
"After your ventilator was turned off and your condition began to 
deteriorate I went Mulder's apartment to tell him.  I found him sitting 
alone in the dark.  He clearly didn't want me there - He seemed to be 
waiting for someone, I don't know for who or what.  Look, I know you don't 
really believe me when I say things like this, but I sensed a heaviness all 
around him.  He wanted to stay in that dark place because he thought he 
deserved it somehow.  A few days earlier, I'd told him that the people who'd 
done this to you would suffer an equal horror.  He looked me straight in the 
eye and said, 'including myself?'  I thought at the time that that was such 
a strange thing for him to say."
	Dana closed her eyes a moment, sighing inwardly.  Not so strange at all, 
she thought.  Of course, Mulder would believe her abduction to be his 
responsibility because she wouldn't have even been involved in the Duane 
Barry's case had she not been trying to help him.
	"Melissa, what happened was *not* Mulder's fault," Scully said 
adamantly.  She paused, thinking about all she knew, all she'd seen and 
shook her head.  "God, there are times when I'm not even really sure it was 
Duane Barry's fault."
	"Oh Dana, I know that.  Mom knows that," Melissa assured her.  "But 
something far more insidious than guilt was holding on to Mulder that night.  
He even refused to come to the hospital and I finally just left him there in 
the dark.  But whatever it was, he shook it loose and he came for you that 
night after all."  Seeing Dana's look, Melissa paused.  "Didn't you know 
that?"
	Scully shook her head slightly.  She'd had so many crazy remnants of 
dreams & visions that she didn't know what was real and what wasn't.  So 
much of it had been so frightening.  When she first woke up, she would have 
sworn that he'd been there the night before.  She would have sworn that 
she'd heard his voice, felt his touch, sensed his warmth & strength in the 
cold of that night.  But then again, she would have also have sworn she'd 
earlier heard Frohike's voice too.  She would have sworn that there'd been a 
nurse Owens who'd looked over her, spoken with her and even kissed her on 
the forehead.  But she been told that there'd been no Nurse Owens and 
feeling foolish, she hadn't asked Mulder or her family anymore about the 
voices she'd heard or what she'd seen in her mind.   
	Melissa nodded her head in confirmation.  "He was there.  I'd gone back 
to the hospital and found Mom in Dr. Daly's office.  He was insisting that 
she go home, she'd been there for days with no sleep, little food.  She 
refused and went across the hall to the ICU but she was back just a moment 
later.  She said she'd looked in and saw that Mulder was there with you.  
She said that you'd be safe with him and she let me take her home." 
	Melissa gripped her sister's hand.  "Dana, you said earlier that you 
were scared that Mulder wouldn't allow you to love him.  But you're so wrong 
about that.  He wants you to love him Dana.  That's why he called you home.  
That night, Mulder put everything else that drives him aside and reached out 
across mortality for you when the easy thing would have been to let you go 
in peace."
	"Don't you see, he could have lived with a clean, safe, idealized memory 
of you; One that had none of the risks & messiness that comes with loving a 
person in real life - none of the hard stuff.  But Mulder didn't want the 
easy way; he wanted the hard way and he wasn't going to let that possibility 
go without a fight.  So even if he hasn't figured out a way to act on it 
yet, I should think that should tell you all you need to know about the kind 
of love he's capable of harboring and the risks he's willing to take."
	Melissa was silent a moment as she watched her sister first absorb and 
then believe the truth of what she'd been told.  She saw Dana's resistance 
ebb away as the smallest of smiles began to tug at her lips.  Then, because 
it just wasn't in Melissa's nature to go too long without teasing her little 
sister, she added, "call me silly, Dana, but I think letting some chick take 
a naked picture really kinda pales in the comparison, don't you?"
	As Melissa's final words sank in, Scully had to laugh, as she hadn't in 
months, maybe years. 

******************************


Children's Playground
Alexandria, Virginia

	Fox Mulder heard Dana Scully laugh and turned back.
	Just a few minutes earlier he'd been heading home, cutting across the 
deserted park.  As he'd passed the playground, he'd noticed out the corner 
of his eye two grown women sitting on the park swings.  Their backs were to 
him and his mind had mildly registered that one had red-hair.  Red-hair 
always sent up a signal to his brain and upon the mandatory second glance, 
he realized it was Scully.  When he looked again at the woman sitting next 
to her, he recognized Melissa Scully.
	Mulder stopped in his tracks, leaning back against a tree, thinking that 
if he were the kind of person who believed in coincidence, he'd be amazed.  
But oddly enough, he wasn't amazed at all somehow.  He stood there by the 
trees a moment watching them safely from behind and from an anonymous 
distance.
	Funny, of all the fantasies he'd ever pictured in his mind about his 
partner, somehow Scully playing on a swing-set hadn't been among them.  Of 
course, now that he thought about it, this new idea led to some interesting 
scenarios.  He'd started to approach them when something else he saw made 
him stop up short.
	He'd been too far away to hear anything of what they'd been saying, but 
he could tell from their body language they were engaged in some serious 
conversation.  He'd seen Scully take her sister's hand as Melissa's 
shoulders had shaken a little with the movements of tears.  He sighed.  
Obviously, they were having some sort of sister-moment and Scully was 
offering Melissa her comfort.  He just didn't feel right intruding in on 
that.  It was better to pass on by and hope it wasn't anything serious for 
Melissa for he knew how much Scully loved her sister.  But he also knew the 
healing powers of Scully's comfort.
	He'd watched them a few more moments anyway until finally, feeling 
intrusive and a bit disappointed, he'd started to walk on, unseen, out of 
the park.  He'd made it a short distance when the soft music of Scully's 
laughter reached him.  He turned back, smiling at the sound.  Scully's 
laughter was infectious and it had been a long, long time since he'd really 
heard it.  He just stood for a moment, entranced.  Things must be all right 
after all, he thought.
	Suddenly, he couldn't resist heading over, after all, it'd been almost 
48 hours since he'd seen Scully and that was just too damn long.  He moved 
quickly across the park and approaching with stealth from behind, he crept 
forward quietly, then leaned forward to place his lips next to Scully's ear.  
"Wanna push little girl?" he said in his best pervert voice.
	The sudden voice in her ear made Scully jump clear out of the swing at 
the same time she realized it was Mulder.  She whirled around, startled, 
glad to see him, and irritated.  In other words, the usual.
	"Mulder!  Shit!  You scared me to death!  What are you doing lurking 
about children's playgrounds?"
	Mulder stood before her with his hands on his hips, smiling with smug 
success at having unsettled her.  She tried level him with a glare, but the 
unexpected sight of him just made her go weak in a way she hated.  His ever-
present pull on her was even more insistent when he was not in his FBI suit 
mode.  Off-duty Mulder had a boyish charm that made just looking at him hurt 
with pleasure.  He was wearing what she thought of as his black knight 
outfit, although she'd rather die than admit to anything so chimeric.  He 
wore his familiar long, black wool coat over that black lightweight 
turtleneck that she loved and which he wore so damn well.  The rest of his 
lean body was poured into her favorite ratty black jeans and boots.  Mulder 
was still a bit thin & just slightly pale from his recent illness, but God, 
he was so handsome she thought as she just smiled stupidly at him.  
	For his part, Mulder was aware that he was looking Scully with equally 
deep fondness, but he couldn't help it.  It was always a challenge to 
fluster her and he had to admit he enjoyed it at bit - Almost as much as he 
enjoyed looking at her as she was right now.  He loved Scully's casual side; 
she always looked freer and relaxed, almost girlish though she'd probably 
slap him over the head for that one.  She wore some wonderfully form-fitting 
jeans with a simple white sweater.  Her hair, so often pulled back at the 
office, fell loose about her lovely face, calling out to him to put his 
hands through it.
	"One might ask the same thing of you, Agent Scully," he said avoiding 
her question with deliberate casualness.
	Clearly forgotten by both of them, Melissa suddenly started laughing.  
This was all too fucking perfect in her book, she thought, and she certainly 
knew when three was a crowd.
	Mulder turned to the giggling woman.  "Melissa Scully," he greeted her 
affably.  "I always suspected that underneath that calm new age exterior 
lurked a strange dementia."
	"Well, you would be the expert in that I guess, huh Mulder?"  Melissa 
retorted good-naturedly as she got up from her swing also and walked towards 
him where he stood by the bench.  Pausing, she took a moment to slowly look 
Mulder over, head to toe, with a frank appraisal that was completely 
unnerving to him and he covertly felt to see if his fly was open.  She then 
smiled quite approvingly and nodded.  What the hell was that all about, he 
wondered.
	"So what are you ladies doing in the park on this fine winter's 
evening?" he asked again.
	Melissa answered as she picked up her purse and a bag from the bench.  
"Lot's of girl talk Mulder.  Well, we also went to brunch, missed a movie, 
ended up in a bookstore where Dana made a *very interesting* purchase," she 
said as she thrust the paper bag into his hands as her sister looked on in 
dismay.
	"Mulder isn't interested in what I bought," Scully said with a poisonous 
look at Melissa.  She would have snatched the sack back but Mulder was a FBI 
agent - he was trained to notice things like that.
	Melissa just continued as though Dana hadn't spoken.  "And now what I'm 
doing is going home.  I'm cold, tired and bored with the company," she said 
flippantly, but with a smile to soften the comment.
	"But ...we had plans," Scully whined slightly as she followed her sister 
who'd already started to head out of the park, leaving Mulder standing by 
the bench, confused and quite literally holding the bag.
	"Plans change baby sister," Melissa said way too sweetly for Scully's 
comfort.
	"Melissa, you can't just leave me here - you drove remember?"  Scully 
whispered in a hiss to her retreating sister.
	Melissa turned and leaned down to kiss her sister's cheek goodbye as she 
whispered lovingly in her ear, "Fate, little sister, has handed you an 
opportunity - You can screw it up by leaving with me or you can stay.  It's 
up to you."
	Scully looked at her sister.  "You know I'm staying."
	"That's my girl.  Call me later or I'll have to kill you."  Melissa 
straightened and looked back over Dana's shoulder at the tall man in the 
long black coat who watched them with undisguised curiosity.  "Always a 
pleasure, Mulder, " she called to him as she turned and headed out of the 
park.
	"Ah...bye," Mulder nodded, a little baffled by Melissa's abrupt 
departure although he was actually pleased she was leaving.  He was more 
than content to have Scully all to himself, although he noticed as Scully 
turned back to look at him she didn't seem a bit happy to see him.  He noted 
that Scully was staring at the bag in his hand and he could almost feel the 
tension radiate from her.  Gleefully thinking that he had his partner 
cornered with some possibly embarrassing personal purchase, he turned in for 
the kill.  "So what'd you get here Scully - 50 ways to please with 
handcuffs?"
	His smart-ass tone raised Scully's hackles a bit.  Yuck it up, FBI Man, 
she thought as she sat down on the bench, crossed her legs, crossed her arms 
and stared at him.  I'm gonna have the last laugh on this one.
	"No Mulder, that's your shopping list," she said evenly, deliberately 
provoking his curiosity.  "I'm afraid it's just a used magazine."
	"What - Last month's Cosmo?  Did you forget to do the sex quiz?  Trust 
me, the answer is always D."  Scully just tilted her head, giving him 
implicit permission to open the bag.  Mulder turned the bag upside down and 
the magazine slipped out.  It was backwards so he flipped it over.
	His brow knitted a bit.  "And you have the nerve to give me shit about 
what I read?" he asked as he looked at the sun-kissed surfer on the cover.  
"I didn't know you liked 'em blond & buff.  All this time I was kinda hoping 
lean and spooky was your type," he said with his best lascivious grin, but 
only half-kidding in his heart.  He noticed his goading didn't appear to 
phase his partner.  In fact, she just smiled at him.  Evilly.
	He's pretty damn good at that innocent look she thought as she realized 
he was trying to buy some time to con her.  "Lean and spooky *is* my type, 
Mulder.  In fact, there's a great example on page 41."
	Mulder somewhat reluctantly began to thumb though to the right page, not 
at all sure he wanted to see this.  37, 38, 39, 40, 41, Bingo.  His hand 
froze in mid-page turn.  As he stared at himself he felt his mind slip into 
a coma right there on the spot.  He opened his mouth to say something then 
shut it.  For the first time in his life, Fox Mulder was having trouble 
coming up with the witty remark
	"This isn't..." he finally started then stopped.  What was he going to 
say - That this isn't what it looks like?  What the hell else could it be 
*except* what looked like?
	Mulder was clearly rattled and Scully loved it.  "You're not gonna tell 
me that's not you, are you Mulder?  I recognize the mole on your right 
cheek."
	"Scully, I - I - I...didn't..." Jesus, I'm stammering like an idiot, he 
thought.  Like a liar.
	"You didn't what Mulder?  Willingly pose for it?"  Scully said primly as 
though it was an X-File investigation.  "I didn't see any signs of your 
being tied down.  Although, you *have* intimated to me on several occasions 
that you do like that sort of thing."
	Mulder looked up to meet Scully's eyes and noted her expression.  He'd 
heard about the cat that swallowed the canary thing and this was the first 
time he'd ever seen it on Scully.  Lord, she was enjoying this.  Mulder 
glanced again at the picture and now that the initial shock had passed, his 
brain started to function again.
	Fuck - he'd forgotten all about this.  He'd tried to disconnect all his 
memories of Phoebe and he'd managed to forget this incident.  It had been 
rather easy actually, considering there were so many bigger things to try to 
forget.
	Phoebe had taken the photo just as he'd woken up after a long night of 
the most raucous sex they'd ever had, a night that had started out on the 
Arthur Conan Doyle memorial and had worked its way across town to Phoebe's 
ancestral home.  They'd exhausted themselves and he'd thought himself in 
love.  More importantly, he'd thought that she was too.  She'd said she'd 
wanted a photo to remember the evening by.  He'd laughed and been somewhat 
secretly pleased that she's wanted a picture of him like that.  Then he'd 
forgotten all about it.  Never even knew she'd developed the photo because 
within a week it had all turned to shit
	A few days after that night, he'd been on his way to her place to 
surprise her.  Flowers in hand, gift in pocket, heart on sleeve like a total 
lovesick geek.  It might have been a memorable romantic evening if he hadn't 
found her in bed screwing some other guy so loudly he'd actually heard them 
through the door before he opened it.  He heard her saying to someone else 
all the exact same things she'd said to him just a few days before.
	Phoebe hadn't understood why it bothered him, after all, she'd told him, 
and it wasn't like they were in love with each other.
	God, he'd wanted to believe that she cared so badly that he hadn't 
realized for a moment that he was just a diversion for her.  A pleasant way 
to kill some time between classes.  Phoebe went into a quiet rage when he 
told her he couldn't play the game anymore, a move on his part that proved 
to be a big mistake.
	He flipped the magazine over and looked at the date.  It was just after 
he'd broken it off with her.  So, this was just more of Phoebe's revenge.  
Certainly as her other little escapades in public humiliation after their 
break-up indicated, a little thing like a forged release form wouldn't have 
stopped Phoebe Green.  He thought back to a year ago when she'd told him 
that enough time had passed and that he should forgive her "youthful 
indiscretions."  Oh silly me, he thought derisively, all this time, I just 
thought she'd screwed around behind my back and then proceeded to screw with 
my head.  She was probably talking about this too.
	Mulder sank down dejectedly on the bench next to Scully.  Slowly, he 
closed the magazine and slid it back into the bag then dropped it on seat 
next to him.  Crossing his arms, he stared out over the bay as long-buried 
resentment began to churn.  Somehow, this newly discovered betrayal, 
although long since perpetrated, cut Mulder deep for it was just plain petty 
& mean, beneath even what he'd even thought Phoebe capable of.  Like I 
needed this today, he thought, Scully's probably thinking that I sent this 
in - I can only imagine what else may be going on in her head.  
	What Scully was thinking was that Mulder's reaction was not exactly what 
she'd anticipated.  What she'd expected a certain amount of embarrassed 
chagrin at having been caught being young and silly once.  However, it was 
obvious she'd turned over a different rock and Scully saw was that there 
something darker at work here behind Mulder's closed expression.  She knew 
that expression well; it was the one he got when he felt a situation had 
slipped out of his control.
	God, he really wasn't feigning his surprise, she realized.  He clearly 
hadn't even known the picture was in there.  How could that be?
	"Mulder?" she asked.  If her heard her, he didn't acknowledge it so she 
tried again.  "Mulder, you didn't know that photo was in here?"
	More silence, but after a bit Mulder just shook his head, still looking 
off into the distance.
	"Phoebe took the picture right?"
	He nodded this time.  Scully looked at his profile, reading his 
emotions, usually an easy job because his face was so very expressive.  
Mulder wasn't embarrassed - he was angry.  The thought that he might be 
angry with her distressed her.
	"Mulder, I'm sorry."  She tried to make amends.  "I didn't mean to upset 
you.  The picture..."
	"It's not the picture," he said suddenly, sharply.
	"I'm sorry," she began again.
	"Stop apologizing, Scully.  It's not you - it's not the picture."
	"What then?  What's bothering you?"
	She saw Mulder hesitate before answering her.  "It's the *intent* behind 
the picture," he finally said.
	"I don't understand."
	Mulder signed deeply, he could tell that Scully wasn't going to leave 
this alone and that somehow not talking about it would turn into a bigger 
deal than talking about it.  With her sharp mind, she'd already figured out 
the Phoebe Green connection.  He shook his head ruefully, every once in a 
while, he wished that Dana Scully was just a little more stupid.
	Of course, she didn't understand.  How could she?  He'd done his best to 
shut Scully out on the subject of Phoebe Green and kept them separated a 
year ago as best he could while he'd tried to sort out his own damn feelings 
on the whole matter.  Seeing Phoebe again had thrown him completely off 
balance as he sought to understand just what it was he was feeling about the 
whole thing.  What kept coming back to him was the fact that what he felt 
for the so-called love of his life paled in comparison to what he felt for 
his partner of just a few short months.  The truth had wholly solidified 
when he'd kissed Phoebe.  Much to his amazement, he'd felt nothing except 
that he really wished it had been Scully instead.  In the past, Phoebe had 
always held a great physical and sexual power over him and yet, he'd felt 
more desire when Scully just touched him *accidentally*.  Later, when he'd 
once again found Phoebe in the arms of someone else, he'd not felt even the 
slightest pang of jealously, just disgust.  Not at Phoebe, but at himself 
and all the time he'd wasted on her.
	Not that he'd ever told any of this to Scully, of course.  He knew she'd 
seen him kiss Phoebe and he'd never offered her an explanation because it 
would have forced him into territory that he just wasn't prepared to enter.  
He knew his rather schizo behavior while he was busy screwing around coming 
to his now-obvious conclusion would have given Scully little reason to think 
anything other than he was easily lead about by his nose, or rather, his 
dick as far a Phoebe was concerned.
	He glanced over at Scully for the first time; she was sitting there 
patiently, waiting for her answer, her eyes concerned and with that look 
that always melted him down.
	He'd seen that look before concerning Phoebe.  Scully had been there too 
after his disgrace at the hotel fire.  She'd taken over from the Paramedics, 
taken him to his room, undressed him and put him to bed almost like a mother 
would a child.  She was still there when he awoke just a bit later, her eyes 
gently concerned.  He'd felt like such a failure that he could hardly meet 
her gaze.  But at the same time, he'd realized that he *felt safe*.  Not 
physically safe, but rather, he'd felt that it was OK that she'd seen him be 
powerless, seen him be vulnerable.  He knew that it would never even occur 
to her to view his weakness as something she could use and exploit.  When 
she'd asked what happened to him, he'd felt comfortable letting her see his 
anger & disappointment at himself because he felt safe with Scully, 
emotionally sheltered.  She'd certainly more than earned the right to a few 
answers now.
	"I'm sure you noticed Phoebe's rather bizarre sense of humor when she 
was here last year," he said to her.
	"I remember that she thought I was rather odd because I didn't think the 
bomb scare joke was funny."
	Mulder nodded, remembering his partner's first introduction to Phoebe.  
"Well, this," he waved his hand in the direction of the bag, "is more 
Phoebe's sense of humor.  What you have here is just photographic evidence 
of just one of the more pathetic misjudgments I've made in my life."
	"How do you mean?"
	Mulder slumped back, crossing his arms.  He tilted his head back to rest 
it on the back of the bench and closed his eyes.  He really didn't want to 
wander down memory lane but there was no way off this path without shutting 
Scully out and he didn't want to do that either.  He had things to tell her 
and he might as well start with this.  "Back at Oxford, you see, I was 
taking my relationship with Phoebe way too seriously.  I didn't know that 
what I thought was love, was really just a rich girl's folly and a way to 
amuse herself.  I hadn't realized I was just one of many players in the game 
and when I finally discovered that I was sharing the woman I thought I was 
in love with several others, I backed away.
	"Well, apparently nobody broke it off with Phoebe Green before she was 
goddamn good and ready.  She couldn't believe my impertinence and wasn't 
about to take that kind of crap from a provincial dweeb such as myself.  So, 
I guess she decided that I needed to be punished for my boorish behavior."
	"What happened, Mulder?"  Scully asked gently, afraid he would stop 
talking.  
	"Nothing dramatic really, it was mostly a whispering campaign of sorts.  
Some based on truth, some not."  Mulder stretched his legs out and looked at 
his boots as he remembered the weeks that followed the break-up when 
Phoebe's misinformation campaign was in full swing on the Oxford grounds 
before he continued.  "She shared things around school that I'd told her in 
confidence.  I hadn't recovered my memory of Samantha yet, but I still had 
the nightmares.  Phoebe knew about them."  He glanced briefly over at her.  
"Let's just say that Quantico wasn't the first place I heard the name, 
'Spooky'."
	Scully watched as Mulder looked back away and wrapped his heavy coat 
more securely around himself as though suddenly chilled as he sat up 
straighter on the bench.  When he continued his voice was softer.  "I found 
out that she'd amused some of her friends at a party by reading my letters 
to her aloud," he said.  "All had quite the laugh at my sentiments, I 
understand.  Certainly along the way, the break-up had become her idea 
because I was boring, a lousy lay and an American hick.  Finally, after a 
few months of hearing whispers as I walked down a corridor or having 
conversation stop when I entered a room, I guess she finally lost interest 
and moved on.  My guess is that this photo was just Phoebe's way of screwing 
with me back at home too, she was nothing if not through."  Mulder shrugged 
slightly as he bent forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands 
clasped together.  "Like I said, it was just little stuff."
	Little stuff?  Scully thought incredulously as she looked at his back.  
Jesus Christ, what were the big things if betrayal of trust, confidences and 
public ridicule were the little things?  Scully leaned forward a bit and 
looked at Mulder's profile, taking in his strong features.  She didn't see 
the anger there any more, only a kind of resignation.  She suspected there 
was more to the story, but didn't ask.  Even Mulder had his pride and she'd 
leave him that.
	She finally had her answer about Phoebe and Mulder, but it wasn't the 
answer she'd been so sure of.  It hadn't been love for Mulder that made 
Phoebe publish the photo - it'd been malice.  To strike back at him, Phoebe 
had taken private, emotional trusting moments away from Mulder and made them 
public, made fun, demeaned them and therefore Mulder's feelings.  He'd loved 
her and she threw that gift away.  Damn that fucking bitch to everlasting 
hell, she thought, her mother-bear anger nearly paralyzing her.
	But damn me too, she thought.  Loving someone who didn't love you back 
was the worst feeling in the world and she'd just brought the memory all 
back to Mulder.  If I hadn't been so eager to rub it in his face in it, he 
wouldn't have to think about it all again - he would never have known of 
this additional hurt.  All because I'd been angry with Mulder for daring to 
love another woman.  She sighed inwardly.  God, it's like I somehow expected 
him to be faithful to me years before we'd even met.  Where the hell do I 
ever get the nerve to accuse Mulder of being irrational?
	Suddenly she heard bitter, mirthless laugh from him.
	"What Mulder?" she asked.
	"I was just thinking," Mulder paused, knowing that he was walking out on 
an emotional minefield.  "That all those years ago Phoebe's intention was to 
expose me, no pun intended, as a fool in front of my friends - only she 
didn't know."
	"Didn't know what Mulder?"
	"She didn't know that I didn't *have* any friends to be embarrassed in 
front of."  He paused again, "But Scully, there's a beautiful irony here 
that Phoebe would have loved."
	"What would that be?"
	"That her little jest lay about completely unappreciated for 10 years,"  
Mulder turned back to look at her again, catching her steady gaze and 
holding it, "until you, *the only friend I have in the entire fucking 
world*, finally laid eyes on it."  His laugh was embittered as he looked 
back down at his feet.  "Coincidence, Scully?  I think not."
	Scully's heart was actually deeply touched at his words, "the only 
friend I have in the entire fucking world."  OK, she thought, so it wasn't 
Robert Browning, but it was still beautiful Mulder-poetry to her ears.
	She reached over and took Mulder's hand, intertwining their fingers as 
she ran her thumb gently over his smooth skin.  For a moment Mulder looked 
at her small hand enclosed in his, amazed at the tender feeling in his gut 
just the touch of her fingers brought.  Then he raised eyes back to hers to 
see that she was smiling gently at him, that in fact, there was something 
very seductive in her eyes as they searched his.  The bitterness left and 
his demeanor softened.  God, why couldn't it have been her 10 years ago, he 
thought, all that wasted time
	"Well, at least it was seen by a friend who could appreciate its 
beauty," Scully said to him lightly, very softly, as she leaned against him.  
To both her amazement and delight, she saw Mulder's face flush just a tad as 
he smiled in self-conscious pleasure at her remark.
	"Well at least I provided you with some entertainment," he said easily 
squeezing her hand, loving the feel.  "So," his tone teasing, "can I expect 
the e-mail system of the FBI to be running amok with this little gem come 
Monday morning?"
	Scully laughed and playfully bumped her shoulder up against his.  "What  
- and make all the other male agents suffer from the comparison?  Good God 
Mulder, that could completely devastate FBI office morale."
	Mulder laughed with genuine humor this time, Scully could always make 
him laugh.  "Thank you, but you have to remember that picture is way old.  
The contents of the package have settled somewhat during shipment so to 
speak," he said back to her.
	"I don't know Mulder, from what I've seen very recently, I bet I could 
still bounce a dime off your butt."
	He searched her eyes, remembered her earlier remark about preferring 
lean and spooky.  God wouldn't that be something if that were true, he 
thought.  Actually, the way things were going here, it was beginning to look 
as though it just might be true.
	As their light banter faded, Scully continued,  "Mulder, about the 
magazine - I'm so sorry that it brought back such an awful time.  I.."
	Mulder cut off her apology with a wave of his free hand, "It doesn't 
matter, Scully."
	"Bullshit, Mulder, it matters to me," Scully interjected sharply.  
"Everything you think or feel matters to me.  Everything that hurts you 
matters to me."  She paused, as her voice became insistent.  "God, Mulder 
don't you know that by now?"
	Mulder swallowed hard as her words got inside him.  He mattered to Dana 
Scully.  Something was happening here on this park bench and he realized 
that they each were dancing about the feelings.  It wasn't happening as he'd 
planned, but then again, when the hell had any of his life worked out the 
way he planned.  But he also realized that Scully might think that he was 
feeling bad over Phoebe Green not loving him.  Mulder almost laughed out 
loud at the travesty of that idea.  You fucking coward, he berated himself, 
are you gonna fix this or are you gonna sit here on your ass until sooner or 
later you do finally manage to get yourself killed and you never get to tell 
her.  He opted for fixing it even though he was terrified.
	"I know, Scully."  He nodded as he looked back at her and tightened his 
grip on her hand.  "I *do know* that.  I just meant, it doesn't matter 
because I realized way last year how twisted it was with Phoebe."  Mulder 
leaned towards Scully shaking his head, "Phoebe and I were never friends; it 
was never once in all the time we were together like...Like how you and I 
are.  I just meant it doesn't matter, because when Phoebe Green blew into 
town last year, I finally realized that she doesn't know shit about love and 
never has.  But what I *really* learned was that the reason I hadn't figured 
that out earlier was because I really didn't have a clue either, I'd had so 
little to compare it too.  And then..." he looked away briefly.
	"And then what Mulder?"  Scully asked, daring to hope.
	Mulder looked back and fixed her with his intense gaze.  "And then, 
Scully, you came into my basement office two years ago and I learned all 
about love, all about friendship.  I finally got it all straight in my head 
and I learned that you're the only woman I've ever truly been in love with."
	The unexpected honesty of Mulder's words had the effect of silencing 
Scully as the emotions flooded her.  She looked down at her hands, took a 
deep breath to slow her heart, and tried to get her mind to speak the words 
she wanted to tell him.  In ensuing stillness, Mulder realized that the part 
where Scully was supposed to throw herself in his arms hadn't happened.  He 
became acutely aware of the fact that he'd said way too much and that it was 
time to go home and desperately pretend on Monday that none of this 
conversation ever happened.
	He slowly released his grip on Scully's hand, picked up the bag up off 
the bench and held it out to her as he stood to go.  "I guess this belongs 
to you."
	Oh God, she thought in a panic, say something you idiot, he's running.  
Mulder had confessed a lot for him; she couldn't let him think he was out on 
that limb alone.
	"No, Mulder" she said suddenly, stopping him as she shook her head.  "It 
doesn't belong to me at all - It belongs to Phoebe."  She raised her eyes to 
the troubled hazel of his gaze, taking in every aspect of his exquisite, 
masculine face, hoping he was seeing everything she'd done her best to keep 
as hidden for two years.  She tried with little success to keep her voice 
from shaking as she took the bag from him.  "This was intended to hurt the 
only man in this entire fucking world that I've ever loved.  I want no part 
of it."  Suddenly she stood and walked quickly past Mulder, who was now the 
one frozen in place, to a nearby trash can where she took a moment to bury 
the bag deep within before turning back to face him.  It was dark now with 
only the park lamps giving off a warm glow, but she could still his eyes, 
she could see that he was listening so intensely that he surely must be able 
to hear her heart beat from where he was standing.
	"Mulder, when Phoebe was here a year ago, I saw you kiss her when you 
danced and...and I wished back then that it had been me instead of her.  
Then today, when I saw how you looked at her in that photo, I wanted it to 
be me that you looked at like that all those years ago.  Not her - me.  I 
know it's not rational, Mulder - I know that.  But it's what I felt because 
I love you.  I wished it had been me from the beginning."
	Mulder thought his heart just might crack open as her words seeped 
inside.  Jesus Christ - Dana Scully just told him that she loved him.  
Twice.  How the hell had that happened?  Unable to find anything lucid to 
say back at the moment, he simply reached his hand out towards her and 
called her name softly, beckoning her to come to him.
	In two steps, she took his hand and was pulled into his arms and up 
against him.  Mulder held her as close to him as he could and still allow 
her to breathe.  Just held her and felt her arms encircle his back as she 
laid her head against his chest, feeling the length of his body pressed to 
hers.
	"I wish it had been you too, Scully, " he told her softly, "you don't 
know how much."  He felt a surge of energy flow through him and like a bad 
music video, he picked her up off her feet as he experienced the totally 
foreign feeling of elation.  Scully gave a bright laugh and wrapped her legs 
around him
	Wow, this unfamiliar love-thing was making him dizzy, he thought as he 
took a couple steps backwards and sat down in one of the swings holding 
Scully facing him on his lap, her legs dangling behind him.  Scully wound 
one arm around his neck as her other rested gently against his chest.  She 
had the slight advantage on him, for if he moved his arms from around her 
waist, she'd slide off his lap.  He was trapped and he loved it.
	Scully realized why he'd placed her on his lap - she could look directly 
into his eyes as Mulder silently spoke his full heart to her.  His gaze to 
her was warm and full of solemn honesty.  He gave her the picture that she 
wanted, the one that would live in her own heart and obliterated all others 
from her mind for this picture was based on knowledge and truth and it was 
only hers.
	"Scully?"
	"What Mulder?"
	"I love you."
	"Oh thank God, because I love you too Mulder."
	OK, he thought - It was out there now.  They'd each really said it, 
there was no taking it back, and a kind of shy nervousness came over the 
two.
	Mulder gave the smallest of smiles as he saw Scully slowly moisten her 
lips as though in anticipation of something delicious.  Oh God, Scully's 
going to kiss me, he thought stupidly as she caressed his cheek & jaw 
lightly with her fingers and then nuzzled in against his neck before she 
drew back just a bit and looked at him.  He could feel her warm breath and 
he closed his eyes just as she slowly touched her lips softly to his in a 
gentle first kiss.  Mulder simply allowed the tender caress to happen, 
savoring the sweet moment and the chill that shot though the pit of his 
stomach, before moving to return it.  Scully sucked gently on his full 
bottom lip and as he moved forward into the fragile kiss, he felt her bottom 
lip move to brush against his upper one, tugging at it slightly to slide the 
tip of her tongue just inside the curve of his lip.
	Taking a slow breath, Mulder gently drew her tongue within his mouth, 
caressing it with his own before letting it retreat back.  He followed into 
her mouth with his own tongue, tasting her heated sweetness.  Scully moved 
to accommodate his caress, to open more to him, bring him deeper.  By 
unspoken mutual consent, the kiss moved on to a harder, more desperate edge, 
going on endlessly and deeper with years of longing and craving behind it.  
Finally, Mulder had to come up for air.
	As he nuzzled his head into the curve of her neck, he was quiet a moment 
as his breathing evened out and he realized that Scully had slipped her 
small shaking hand over his heart during the best kiss he'd ever been given.  
This alone was way more than he ever believed he could have, he thought and 
yet he knew there was more awaiting them.  He could hardly understand the 
extreme fortune given to him at this point of his life.
	Scully sighed a warm, satisfied sound as she felt him place a trailing 
row of kisses over her collarbone and into the hollow of her throat.  Then 
she heard his soft voice.  "How the hell can you love me Scully?  I'm such a 
fucking mess," he asked even as he took immense pleasure in the soft noises 
she made low in her throat at his touch.  "Are you sure it's not just pity?"
	"Oh, Mulder," she breathed softly into his ear, feeling the shiver run 
thorough his body she pulled even closer against him.  Mulder's tone was 
deliberately light, but Scully realized his question was deadly serious.  
She drew back slightly to look him in the eyes and smiled as she trailed her 
fingers through his soft hair.  He's ever the truth seeker, she thought with 
deep affection; I can't start lying to him now.  She realized that she 
needed to share a secret truth with him; the one men didn't know about, 
didn't suspect in most cases.  She touched his face, running her fingers 
over the beautiful planes, feeling his lips graze her fingertips as she did 
so, saw him smile slightly when he felt her own matching tremble, even as he 
held her gaze and waited patiently for his answer.
	"Mulder, there's some pity in *every* woman's love," she told him gently 
but firmly as she continued to sooth her fingers along his strong jaw line.  
"I mean, what kind of person would I be if I knew of what hurt you and *felt 
nothing*?  I'd be no different than those who seek to do you harm."
	Now Mulder, like most men, had obviously been unaware of this universal 
truth of women and she saw the confusion knit his brow for a moment as he 
pondered this news.  "All women?" he questioned finally.
	Scully just arched her own brow and nodded to him in affirmation.  She 
could almost see concept click into place in his mind where it was turned 
over and examined closely for defect until, finally, his male-ego deemed it 
acceptable.  His Mulder-humor returned, and he leaned in next to her ear 
again.  "So what you're saying is that you love me *because* I'm a mess?"
	Scully laughed gently with him as he laid his head down against her 
chest and tightened his arms around her.  "It's not the only reason, no," 
she told him.  The anticipation of the touch of his lips and body nagged at 
her, but she had to make him understand and believe her.  "Mulder, you're 
more than I've ever hoped for, you've shown me so much, you've helped make 
to me more than I ever thought I could be.  I've wanted you for so long that 
just looking at you hurt."  Scully caressed the rough stubble on his cheek 
and the smoothness of his brow as she raised his face to look into hers.  "I 
take such pride in you, Mulder, in your honor.  I've trusted in and felt 
protected by your courage.  There isn't a human being alive that I respect 
more because I know of the prices you've paid for your refusal to compromise 
your integrity."
	"But you were almost one of those prices, Scully.  Following me on this 
search for answers might get you killed someday.  I don't know if...."
	She interrupted him by touching her fingers to his lips and shaking her 
head with affectionate impatience.  "I don't follow you, Mulder, I walk 
beside you.  I have my own stake in this journey now - you know that."  She 
watched as he sighed and nodded his acknowledgement of that truth, his 
expression sad.
	Scully smiled a little and looked in his soft hazel eyes, amazed as 
always at how expressive they were and how they seemed to change colors with 
his emotions.  "Mulder, I love you.  We will find out what happened to your 
sister.  We will find the truth of what happened to me.  We're going to 
outrun, outsmart and outlive those who would stop us.  I promise you all 
that Mulder - You can believe it."
	Mulder closed his eyes and turned his head away against the force of the 
first honest words of love he'd ever heard as he gripped her tightly against 
him.  He lowered his face back against her neck because if he knew if he 
looked at her, he was going to totally lose it and start crying and he 
didn't want to do that right now.  Later maybe, but right now, if he didn't 
kiss her again he was going to implode right there on the swings in the 
park.  But as he moved to lay claim to her lips again apparently Scully had 
one more thing to say first.
	"And Mulder...?"
	"What?"
	"Just one more thing," she said as she ran her fingers through his hair, 
still totally amazed that she could now touch him freely and all she wanted.  
"If Phoebe Greene ever shows up in his town again, I'm gonna drive a stake 
right through where her heart should have been.  She'll become an X-File, 
Mulder, and I'll get to do the autopsy.  I'll teach that bitch to mess with 
my man's head."
	Surprised at Scully's vehement words, Mulder looked back up at her as 
she slowly nodded her seriousness to him.  He then began to laugh, a genuine 
laugh, the kind she'd rarely heard from him.  "You're my hero, Scully," he 
told her honestly.
	"Damn right and you're mine."
	As Scully gazed down at him, his laughter faded into that charming, 
roguish grin that he always used so well to his advantage.  The one that 
almost always got him what he wanted.
	What?" she asked suspiciously.  "What is it, Mulder?"  He began to lay 
kisses along the length of her throat, which he'd already discovered was 
something she really liked.  Her head fell back with the simple luxury of 
his touch and to offer him more of her skin to work with.
	"I was just thinking," he said as he worked, "that this day started out 
with me waking up alone, eating cold ravioli and drinking shitty coffee.  
It's going to end with me getting to make love to you."  Mulder suddenly 
stopped his trail of teasing kisses, leaving her hanging and looked up at 
her with his best wicked grin, the light dancing in his hazel green eyes.  
"I *am* gonna get to make love to you aren't I?"
	She leaned forward and kissed the sensitive skin just behind and below 
his ear, discovering that she'd found one of his spots too as he shivered a 
bit.  "Actually, Mulder," she whispered, her breath warm on his skin.  "I'd 
like you fuck me until my ears bleed."
	She was rewarded with a deep growl of impatience from his throat.  
"Ooooooo, Scully," he intoned, "that sounds like another X-File."  Sliding 
his arms up her back and cradling her closely against him, he slid out of 
the swing and then gently lowered her slowly back into the soft white sand.  
Mulder indulged himself by smoothing back that always-errant strand of red 
hair off her forehead and tucking it behind her ear, mirroring a gesture 
he'd seen her do a hundred times and had always longed to do himself.  And 
now he had, he thought and he couldn't believe that something so simple 
actually gave him a physical pleasure.  Jesus, he wondered briefly, this 
just may kill me.
	For just a moment, he lingered, just looking at her as he thought that 
this was all just going too damn well and an irrational fear that a plane 
would drop out of sky and crush then both ran through his mind.
	Finally, Mulder took his last breath as a free man, leaned down and 
kissed Scully urgently, feeling a strength and satisfaction at the pleasured 
noise she made.  He felt her hands move through his hair, pulling at him 
clearly wanting more and he searched the recesses of her lips and then deep 
into her mouth with his tongue.  His aloneness was vanquished and craving 
her touch, he couldn't get close enough to her as he moved against her with 
a reckless edge and an overwhelming need to possess.
	Mulder's kiss was everything Scully had imagined, long slow deep 
alternated with light tickling touching; almost making her giggle in 
playfulness and then back to serious depth.  God, she loved to be right, she 
thought with deep satisfaction, and nothing in her life had ever felt as 
right as this moment.  He moved relentlessly, keeping her breathless, his 
own breath warm and sweet as he lifted his lips only long enough long enough 
to move into another position, to trail over her jaw line and under her ear 
and then back to her lips, pressing her deeper into the soft sand.
	Mulder moved over her, entangling his long legs with hers as his long 
black coat fell over them like a blanket against the chill of the night.  He 
braced himself over her as he cradled the back of her head gently in one 
large hand, his fingers entwined in her hair, holding on.  Scully's hands 
were against his back, stroking and caressing as she responded up to his 
kiss.  His slid his free hand under her sweater to pull the T-shirt she was 
wearing underneath from out of her jeans.  Succeeding in that, he then 
slipped his hand up under the soft cotton, but as his chilled fingers 
encountered the deep warmth of her belly, Scully gave an involuntary, 
gasping, "eeek".
	Mulder, who'd broken from her kiss at the sound, realized what had 
happened.  "Opps, sorry" he said, laughing just a bit nervously, "that 
wasn't quite the reaction I was going for."  He started to remove his hand, 
but Scully stopped him, catching his fingers with her own.
	"It will warm up faster if you keep it where it is Mulder," she said 
softly.  She moved his hand back up to her breast, slipping it inside the 
sheer cotton bra and holding it in place with her hand covering his.  It 
indeed warmed up incredibly fast as he molded his hand over the softness and 
felt the nipple harden in response to his touch.  "See?"
	"Don't know, Scully, I think the cold did it some good."  He caught her 
eye and she nodded in mutual amusement.  He bent down in for another breath 
depleting kiss, as she dimly thought just how perfectly his hand fit her 
entire breast.  Oh Jesus, this was going to be fun, she thought.
	"I knew Mulder," she said when he'd lifted his lips a moment.
	"Knew what, Scully?"  Mulder said absently, concentrating on sucking on 
her earlobe.
	"Knew that you'd be so damn good at this."
	Mulder lifted his head to look into her eyes and granted her the rare 
smile, the one that only came when he was deeply, genuinely happy.  She 
could count on one hand the number of times she'd seen it before today.  
"Trust me, it helps to have found the right partner," he told her.
	Scully smiled as reached down to spread her hand over the heated and 
expanding center of his jeans.  She heard the ragged intake of his breath as 
she cupped and massaged the rapidly hardening mass through the rough 
material, spreading her fingers and moving in a soothing rhythm.  Seeing his 
eyes close in pleasured concentration, she popped the top button and 
hurriedly tried to find the tag of his zipper as he dipped his head into the 
curtain of hair at her neck while he made a thrumming noise of deep 
satisfaction.
	She had just succeeded in slipping her hand inside the waistband of his 
jeans when Scully suddenly felt Mulder's entire body tense in a way that had 
nothing to do with what her fingers were doing.  His warm lips suddenly left 
her neck, leaving a shock of cold air.  What?  Scully opened her eyes and 
saw Mulder looking above her head.
	"Ah, good evening, Officer," she heard him say.
	She tilted her own head back as best she could and saw one of 
Alexandria's finest standing over them.  Even with her upside down view of 
things she could see the stern older face that had caused Mulder's hand go 
dead still on her breast.  In her urgency, Scully had almost completely 
forgotten that they were in a public park, as had Mulder apparently.  She 
bit her lip to keep from laughing, as she slowly extracted her hand from 
inside Mulder's underwear.
	"You know folks," the cop offered dryly, "the city of Alexandria has 
*many* fine hotels."
	"Ah, yes sir."  Mulder paused a moment, then glanced briefly back down 
at Scully then back at the cop as he gingerly removed his own hand from 
under her sweater.  "Would you happen to know where the closest one is and 
does it take American Express?"
	Scully hid her face in Mulder's neck, but to her relief the cop, 
apparently having been young and in love himself once, laughed.  "Let's just 
move it along folks - OK?" was all he said and then moved on himself.
	"Ah yes Sir.  Thank you."  Mulder turned his head to watch the cop walk 
away a moment then looked back at Scully.  When their eyes met the laugher 
started.  "It doesn't look like there's going to be any ear bleeding in the 
park, Scully," he said as he slowly rose off Scully and up to his feet.  She 
felt a rush of cold replace his warmth and she already felt deprived.  As 
Mulder reached for her hand, he noticed her shiver and as he pulled her to 
her feet, he took her back into the shelter of his arms, wrapping his coat 
around the two of them and resting his chin on the top of her head.
	"Thank God for long coats" Scully sighed, snuggling back against him.
	"Yes," Mulder said wryly.  "It may also help to keep me from being 
arrested."
	Scully laughed softly as she pressed against him.  "Yes, I noticed.  I 
may be able to help you with that too."
	"I was kind of hoping you'd volunteer."  Mulder looked down at her and 
kissed her again.  When he released her, he brought his hands up to trail 
down the sides of her face to hold her.  As he looked down, she saw a 
confused emotion pass through his eyes.
	She tightened her grip around his waist, "What Mulder, what is it?"
	"I guess, I just can't get used to the fact that I can touch you because 
I want to, because *I feel like it*," he said in wonder.  "I don't have to 
stop myself.  You have no idea how many times I had to stop myself."
	Scully smiled up at him.  "Of course I do Mulder, it was probably as 
often as I had to stop myself."
	"Yeah?" he grinned back at her.
	"Oh Yeah." 
	Mulder dropped a kiss on her forehead.  "Scully, where should we go 
since groping you up in the park isn't going to work out?  One of 
Alexandria's fine hotels or your place?"
	"Let's just to your place, Mulder, it's closer." 
	Mulder was a bit dismayed.  He'd imagined making love to Scully in 
virtually every imaginable place; her bed, his couch, the office desk, the 
shower, the middle of her cream colored carpet in her living room.  Hell, 
even that rainy graveyard in Oregon seemed like a good idea.  But when faced 
with the reality of quite literally taking Scully home, he felt a reluctance 
because he didn't feel like it *was* home.
	"We can go somewhere nicer," he offered.
	"I want to go to your place."
	"We can go to your place or a really nice hotel instead."
	"Mulder - I want to go to your place," she just insisted again.
	"But why?"
	"Because it's where you live, Mulder and I want you to let me in where 
you live."
	"But..." he paused as he thought about what she said, knowing she wasn't 
talking about the physical apartment.  "Are you sure, Scully?"
	"Of course, I'm sure Mulder," she answered firmly as though he were a 
silly child asking a stupid question.
	Mulder took her hand in his.  If she wanted to, they'd go to his place, 
where maybe it just might feel like home for once.  He had the feeling that 
anywhere with Scully would feel like home.  "Where's your car?" he asked.
	Now Scully was the one who paused.  "Melissa drove."
	His eyebrows lifted.  "She just left you here?"
	"Well, we walked a long time today and just ended up here.  I was 
thinking about things I had to tell you and I guess Melissa thought that 
today was as good a time as any."
	Mulder nodded, Melissa just might be smarter than he and Scully put 
together, he thought.  
	"We can just take your car Mulder."
	It was his turn to smile.  "I walked here too."
	"From your place?  Mulder, you shouldn't have pushed yourself like 
that," Scully's physician mode temporarily taking over.
	"Trust me Scully, I've never felt better in my life," he smiled a bit 
lasciviously at her.  After a moments pause, he continued.  "I felt like 
walking.  I was thinking about some things I had to tell you and I ended up 
here."
	They looked at each other and simultaneously both shook their head and 
laughed.
	"What are the odds of us finding a cab?" she asked.
	"It's a Sunday night in February with a storm coming in and considering 
the way things usually run for us, I'd say not good."
	"It's just always going to be an uphill battle for us isn't it Mulder?"
	"Looks that way.  Come on, we've got some walking to do." 

******************************


Mulder's Apartment
Alexandria Virginia

	By the time, they'd reached his apartment building a slight tension had 
built between them.  They'd not talked much and they'd both gone inside 
their heads and were thinking too damn much, Scully realized, but unsure how 
to make it better.
In his hallway, Mulder dug his keys out of his pocket and promptly 
dropped them though whether from cold or nervousness, he wasn't sure.  They 
both bent down for them with Scully capturing them first.  Silently she 
stood back up and extended her hand palm up with the keys in them.  As 
Mulder scooped the keys up, his fingertips grazed across her palm and just 
that small touch made her shiver.  Mulder saw it and grinned.
	He bent to capture her mouth with hers in a deep, sweet kiss, backing 
her up against the unopened door.  He knew he could probably unlock the door 
better if he could take his eyes off her and look at what he was doing, but 
he just couldn't be bothered with that for a moment.
	Scully heard someone clearing their throat too loudly and she looked 
over Mulder's shoulder to see one of his neighbors, a very wide, older woman 
she didn't recognize.  She'd gotten off the elevator with her groceries and 
was now staring at them in nasty disapproval as they were blocking the 
narrow hallway with their public display of affection.  Mulder leaned in 
hard against Scully to allow the biddy to pass.  She pushed past them making 
sure that they heard her very loud, obnoxious "tsk" of censure as she did so 
and the small devil that lurked in Scully's heart got loose.
	"Sir, I *did* tell you that it was an extra $50 if you want to keep my 
panties too, didn't I?" she asked Mulder loudly.  She was rewarded with a 
slight gasp just before the old bat's door shut down the hall and she looked 
back up to meet Mulder's eyes concerned for just a second that he might be 
ticked.  After all, he did have to live here.  
	But he was smiling in amusement as she'd actually suspected he would be.  
"God, I love you," he whispered in her ear.
	With one arm holding her close, he managed to finally get the door 
opened with the other, and pulled her quickly inside, slammed it shut, threw 
the deadbolt and dropped the keys on the floor.  The momentary uncomfortable 
tension was completely gone and just delicious anticipation remained.
	Taking her hands, and walking backwards in the darkness he pulled her 
towards the bedroom and she followed.  Once inside, he let go long enough to 
turn on the small light on the nightstand.  Scully had never really more 
than glanced in the usually dark room and as the soft glow from the light 
illuminated them, she vaguely noted that he had a large bed with large 
pillows and not much else besides the nightstand and a dresser by the 
window.  She should probably take a moment to really look around, but she 
only wanted to look at Mulder who stood by the bed gazing at her with sweet 
expectation.
	She approached him in two steps, stretched up to kiss him as he bent to 
meet her half way.  Holding onto the lapels of his long coat, she pushed it 
up and off his shoulders, forcing him to let go of her long enough for her 
to drop in a heap on the floor, which she then pushed over to the wall with 
her foot.
	Backing him up a step, she decided to go for the shoes next.  With one 
small push from her, he was sitting on the edge of the bed as she knelt 
between his legs.  She felt his hand smooth through her hair as she untied 
the boots and pulled them off.  Each made a clunk against the wall as she 
tossed them blindly over her shoulder, followed next by the socks.
	Now she looked up at him and he met her gaze, saw her deep affection for 
him.  She cupped her hands over his knees and raised herself to a kneeling 
position, running her hand slowly up his thighs as she did so.  She leaned 
forward, lifted his sweater and placed a soft wet kiss on his belly, 
wrapping her arms around his waist and feeling the hardness of his erection 
through his jeans against her breasts.  She rocked slightly against him, 
easing back and forth, as she placed other wet kisses about his navel and 
followed the trail of downy hair below.  With a deep sigh, Mulder lay back 
on the bed, his hands outstretched on either side grasping at the 
bedclothes.
	Scully decided to tease him a bit by placing her hand over his jeans-
encased hardness and alternating between ticking and deep massage.  She 
traced the contours straining against the fabric, repeatedly as she worked 
her kisses down from his navel after dipping her tongue deep in its hollow.  
She finally gave him some relief by popping the top snap of his jeans and 
rolling the zipper down.  Reaching up, she grasped the waistband of his 
jeans and tugged.  They didn't move; Mulder had gone dead weight on her.
	Scully smiled a bit.  "Gonna need a little cooperation here Mulder," she 
requested.  Mulder returned from where ever he was just long enough to raise 
his hips just enough for her to slide the pants and underwear off in one 
smooth motion where they too were tossed over her shoulder to join the rest 
of the heap against the wall.
	He thought absently that was a particularly smooth move on her part, but 
then he felt her warm, wet mouth close over him and he lost all sense of 
logical thought from there.
	Mulder's head snapped back up.  Oh sweet Jesus, he thought, struggling 
to maintain control as he also struggled to raise himself back on his elbows 
so he could watch the incredible sight of Scully giving him a blow job.  He 
watched her tousled red-hair move, and felt her deep warmth not only on his 
cock, but also in his gut.  The reality of the moment hit him after having 
fantasized it for so long.  Jesus, it's Scully, he thought.  *His Scully*, 
his mind corrected possessively.  God, how had he lived without her touch 
like this, he wondered dazedly in the few brief seconds Scully backed off to 
give him a break, keeping him from going over the edge just yet.
	Feeling his eyes on her, Scully looked slowly up the length of Mulder's 
body, still clad in black turtleneck, his chest rising and falling rapidly 
with short breaths, a slight sheen breaking out on his face.  She finally 
met up with Mulder's gaze; his eyes half-closed in satisfied bliss.  He 
blinked slowly as he took a deep breath and smiled intimately at her.
	In that moment, Scully realized that besides the obvious bodily pleasure 
she was bestowing upon him, Mulder was also gaining a more extraneous 
enjoyment from the mere fact that she who was doing it - Her touch and her 
mouth.  So often, there was a careless anonymity to this act.  The knowledge 
that it wasn't that way for Mulder filled Scully with tenderness for him.
	Her hand traced over his thighs, over the long healed bullet-wound scar 
and moved up to grasp the base of his cock, holding him steady as she moved 
the flat of her tongue up and down its length.  She stopped occasionally to 
bring him fully and deeply into her mouth, feeling him respond with the 
tightening of his hips and the sharp intake of his breath.  He was close, so 
very close, she thought.  She could feel it.
	Mulder watched and drew ragged breath as the pleasurable pressure grew 
from the ministrations of her lips and tongue.  One of Scully's hands cupped 
and massage his balls while her other hand found a heretofore unknown 
pressure point, that medical training coming in good for something besides 
dissection.  It almost killed him, but he knew he had to stop her before it 
was too late because he had his own plans in mind.
	Scully felt his hands in her hair, tugging gently as he sought her 
attention.  "Scully," he beckoned softly, "Scully."  She left the job 
unfinished and moved to join him on the bed as he scooted back from the edge 
of the bed and back from the edge of pleasure.  Seeing her questioning look, 
Mulder laid back against the big pillows on the headboard and pulled Scully 
up into his arms, bringing her face close to his.  "I want to be inside you 
when I come," he said just before he kissed the lips that had just nearly 
driven him insane.  "I want that," he insisted again, drawing Scully's 
tongue deep within his mouth and sucking gently, tasting the bits of his 
early juices on her lips, "and you've got too fucking many clothes on."
	Scully understood that he wanted his turn at her and again, was deeply 
pleased.  "Just one more thing and I'm all yours," she said teasingly.  She 
grasped the edge of his black turtleneck and pulled it over his head, 
smiling at his well-tousled hair and his boyish grin that emerged from the 
fabric constrains.  The sweater floated gently through the air to the ever-
growing heap.  Finally fully naked in her eyes, she looked her fill at 
Mulder and he lay there patiently allowing her to do so.
	Finally, Mulder pulled her back into his arms, pressing her clothed body 
against his naked one as he reached down and started with Scully's shoes, 
silently thanking God they were loafers because he surely didn't think he 
had the composure to deal with laces.  They both laughed at the thunking 
noise as they hit the wall and slid down to join their brethren on the 
clothing heap.  Scully was then duly impressed with his dexterity as he 
managed to pull her socks off with his toes and keep his hands busy on her 
upper body at the same time.  Who knew such a talent was there, she 
wondered.
	Mulder nudged her over onto her back and he slid one arm underneath her 
to cradle her against him still.  His other hand skimmed down her belly to 
find the waistband of her jeans where he popped open the buckle on her belt 
and pulled it out of her belt loops in one efficient motion.  He missed the 
clothing pile with his toss because Scully, who had busied herself with 
touching wherever she could reach of his smooth skin, suddenly had fastened 
her mouth to his nipple and was suckling greedily.  The resulting electric 
jolt threw off his aim by several feet.
	Mulder realized that she was going to make undressing her difficult 
because in spite of her promise that she was all his, she continued to 
attach herself to his body with her lips and hands where she could.  Not 
that he minded, but he would have to do something about that.
	He did manage to look into her eyes as he popped the snap on her jeans, 
moved the zipper down, and was rewarded with her smile.  His strong fingers 
worked their way into the tight jeans and underneath the panties into the 
hot moistness where his middle finder instantly found its spot.  With the 
heal of his hand, he applied gentle pressure as he massaged her clit below 
with sure circular strokes.  Mulder watched with pleasure as Scully's head 
dropped back as she clutched on to his arm rhythmically in tune with his 
motions, small soft cries coming from her throat.  Yes, she was most 
definitely all his now, he thought.
	Mulder raised her up to him for a deep soul kiss that smothered her 
moans as he worked her responsive body, bringing her as close as he dared 
and then backing off.  Stilling his hand a moment, he placed his lips on the 
side of her neck and worked on applying the first serious hickey Scully had 
had since high school.  A very small one, just enough to leave his mark, 
Just enough to say, "Mulder was here."
	Satisfied with the result, he returned to the business at hand.  The 
restriction of the jeans, which had once excited, now began to impede and he 
let go of her long enough to move to the end of the bed to tug her jeans 
down and off, tossing them aside.
	Unlike Scully, Mulder hadn't managed to get the underwear in the same 
movement, probably because they were thoroughly plastered in place he 
thought as he moved back up along side of her.  His fingers trailed up the 
inside of her slickened inner thighs, snagging the edge of the lacy garment 
and he slid them down and off.
	However, instead of tossing them aside with the other garments, he 
gathered them into a ball in his hand and inhaled deeply, memorizing her 
scent, feeling almost a slight rush and he felt himself harden even more if 
possible.  "So, Scully, it's $50 bucks if I want to keep these?" he asked 
with his wicked humor.
	She tilted her head slightly as though considering.  "For you, Mulder, 
$25."
	"Well, then I'm keeping them."  Scully watched as in one smooth motion, 
Mulder leaned over her body, reached out and slid open the drawer of his 
nightstand, dropped the panties inside and slammed it shut before turning 
his attention back to her.
	"Mulder you are completely insane."  Scully told him as he moved back 
over her.
	"You make me insane," he said dropping a kiss on her forehead and then 
her lips.  "And I'm beginning to feel seriously underdressed here."
	She arched one eyebrow at him.  "Well, Mulder, if you hadn't stopped for 
your little impromptu panty raid, we'd be a lot further along by now"
	He chucked low in his throat.  Scully loved the sound, she loved to make 
him laugh, and the fact that she knew she could was a turn-on all on its 
own.  Not that she needed any additional help right that moment.
	Mulder pulled her sweater off over her head, then the T-shirt and went 
to work on the bra that matched the panties, deftly unhooking it from the 
back and sliding it down her arms where all three items were unceremoniously 
flicked from the bed.
	Mulder's hand rested on her flat stomach a few moments as he looked down 
at her, noting the contrast of his darker skin against her soft white.  
Unlike Scully, he'd never been afforded real opportunity to see her other 
than the one time she stood before him in that hotel room in Oregon, scared 
and shaking.  He slowly moved his eyes down her body, loving everything he 
saw.  He ran his hand down the length of her side; slightly tickling and 
eliciting a shiver from her before he moved his hand back down to tease her 
sensitive clit a little more.
	For the first time, Scully felt a little reticent under his frankly 
guileless study, concerned in the very back of her mind about stacking up 
against those glossy magazines and videos.  Mulder lowered his head to kiss 
her breast for the first time, laving the nipple with his tongue and drawing 
it softly into his mouth, to suckle as she had done to him.  After a moment, 
he placed his mouth next to her ear and she heard him sigh as he kissed her 
there also.  "Oh Jesus, Scully, you're so beautiful.  I just knew you'd be 
this beautiful."  
	Scully reached up and cupped her hand to his cheek, feeling the 
roughness where he hadn't shaved, loving the intense masculine feel of him.  
Mulder placed his hand over hers and moved her palm to his lips so he could 
kiss it softly.  He parted his lips slightly as she felt his tongue tickle 
and caress her palm as she felt a tingle run through her.  He released her 
hand and lowered his head back to her breast as Scully held him against her 
as he resumed his loving suckling treatment, as she caressed the length of 
his erection, enough to make his heart pound and his breath quicken.
	He drew back just enough to look at her in the eyes as his fingers 
dipped inside her wetness as she smiled so lovingly for him as she closed 
her eyes as he reached & stroked deep into her.  He moved over her body to 
kneel between her thighs, moving to kiss and tongue her wetly all around 
except the sensitive area where she wanted his tongue the most.  Mulder 
tickled and teased her with his fingers and mouth as she writhed up against 
him.  "Oh God, please" she pleaded with him.  "Please," as her hands reached 
out for him.
	Finally, he gently nudged open her legs apart even further in 
preparation for him, bent down and gave her one long deep lick.  The 
sensation nearly jolted her off the bed.  "Mulder!" she called out as she 
felt every muscle contract as she arched up to meet him.  Mulder dipped in 
for series of short, hard, caressing tongue strokes followed with another 
long, laving lick, then another and another.  Within just a few more, Scully 
came so hard for him that she arched up and clutched bedclothes as her head 
tossed back and forth across the pillow, making insensible noises.  He could 
feel the inner tremors ripple from the nerve center under his tongue to the 
tips of her extremities and he almost came himself as he watched the flush 
run her pale skin.  He loved the sounds she made as he made love to her.  
Even in the deepest grip of sexual quaking, Scully was an internalizer; she 
didn't make the histrionic shrieks that just reminded him of a cheap porno 
video.  The pleasured sounds she made were low toned and primal, coming from 
her deepest self.
	He listened to her call out his name and felt her hands grip him and it 
thrilled him to know he was responsible for her intimate and intense reward.  
Mulder moved over her to kiss her again as she returned from her journey to 
the higher plane, he filled her mouth with his tongue, as he just lightly 
brushed his hand over her pubic area, still feeling the lessening muscle 
spasms that shook her body.
	As she regained awareness, Scully forced her eyes to open.  Her 
instinctual need to have Mulder within demanded its gratification and she 
wanted to watch every moment of Mulder's pleasure.  She pulled away gently 
from his kiss, "Mulder, please, I need you now." she entreated, as her hand 
reached between them to grasp on to him.  Mulder felt her legs move open 
further to bring him in and he went gladly sliding his length deep inside 
her as he thrust forward.
	Their mutual deep moan at that complete first melding came innately and 
Scully watched as Mulder had to turn his head away a moment to gain control.  
"Jesus, Scully.  I..."
	"I know, Mulder."  Scully run her hands up the tense planes of his back, 
urging him with her caresses, wanting him to reach that moment too, that 
loss of control that she could give him.
	Oh God, he thought, turning his face back to her as he began to move in 
long deep strokes.  Nothing in his life had ever felt a good as that first 
full push up inside Scully.  Inside Scully, his mind repeated in awe and 
nothing had ever felt so good at that first stroke.  Well, except maybe the 
second.  Or the third.  Mulder gave up comparing by the fourth as the primal 
instinct of driving towards satisfaction overtook him
	Scully watched blissfully as Mulder began to lose himself in her and she 
brought her knees up and wrapped them around him to give him deeper access 
as he groaned his thanks, his thrusts becoming more frenzied as she rocked 
upwards to meet him.  He filled her physically and emotionally, that longing 
for completion finally fulfilled and Scully felt herself begin to coil up 
again inwardly.
	She watched as Mulder moved above her and he was so beautiful, so 
unrestrained.  His eyes were tightly closed in sexual concentration, his 
face turned slightly to one side, his breath coming deeply, mixing the sound 
of her name with other more guttural noises of gratification, building a 
cadence, like his strokes within her.
	Scully strained to meet his need, to make it good for him as she 
tightened her inner muscles and reached up to touch his face.  Mulder felt 
both and opened his eyes to meet hers, letting her know he was he was aware 
of her.  "Scully," he called out lowly as he raised himself slightly by 
sliding one arm underneath her, bracing himself.  He took her hand and 
slipped it down between their bodies to so she could feel him stroking her 
with both his fingers and his body as he moved relentlessly against her.
	Suddenly he bent down and kissed her with deep resonance.
	The soft stroking of his fingers and his body's desperate thrusting had 
intensified the tightening of the glorious twisting coil within her, but it 
was his kiss that made it suddenly let go.  The pleasure unwound like a 
spring, dancing though Scully's body as she went rigid a moment just as her 
second Mulder-induced orgasm overtook her and she had to pull her lips from 
his to breathe and call out his name.  Mulder's fingers left the spot he'd 
been soothing and he slid his arms underneath her and lowered himself to 
her, his thrusting becoming quick and hard.  Scully pulled him along, 
helping him towards what they both wanted.  "Mulder, please.  I need to feel 
you," she urged, "Please.  Mulder, for me, please."
	Mulder allowed himself several more deep full length strokes and then 
curled up forward into her as his gut-deep spasms overtook him.  He made a 
sound that Scully would have mistaken for a painful sob had she not known it 
was coming from the deepest of euphoric pleasures as his body seized up.
	Looking into Mulder's face she could see he was, for a moment anyway, in 
that place where nothing ever, ever had felt that good, that right or that 
perfect.  She'd given him that moment, she thought possessively.  Deeply she 
felt the spasms rock his body up inside hers and he moved against her 
mindlessly as he fell over the edge completely and spilled both emotionally 
and physically into her, calling out her name. 
	As his tremors slowed, Mulder flattened softly down upon Scully with the 
total depletion of strength that comes of spent passion.  The fulfillment of 
the longed for physical expression with this woman causing his mind and his 
body to fall into the deep languor of tranquility.
	Scully's hand came up to cradle the back of his head now buried in the 
crook of her neck, stroking him gently.  She looked down the length of his 
now-familiar body, his back polished with the slight sheen of sweat, the 
gentle curve of his butt where he was still buried deep within her, his long 
legs and feet tangled in the bedclothes where he had found footholds for his 
earlier thrusting.  She felt an overwhelming protectiveness towards him, a 
deep satisfaction in having given him such exhaustive pleasure, a wondrous 
gratitude that this moment had finally happened.  She was close to tears in 
her contentment.  Right at that moment, she had it all.
	As conscious thought returned to Mulder, she felt him begin to move to 
relieve her of his weight.  She flattened her palms against his back and 
wrapped her legs more firmly about him.  Mulder felt her resistance to his 
leaving and raised himself back on his elbows to look at her, saw the shine 
in her eyes and knew it matched his own.
	"I'm too heavy for you, Scully," he whispered.
	"Never," her voice catching a bit.  "I love you."  Mulder smiled and 
returned the words to her as he kissed her sweetly & gently; a soft, 
romantic almost first kiss.  Their first kiss as a couple who were now 
lovers.  God, it was so easy to say he loved her now, he wondered, when just 
a few hours ago he'd almost shaken with the fear of saying it.
	He slowly extracted himself, slid his arms underneath her, and then 
rolled over onto his back up against the pillows so that Scully draped over 
him like a blanket.  She laid her head against his shoulder and felt his 
hands on the small of her back, gently caressing her rounded bottom as his 
other hand came up to mesh into her hair and cradle her against him.  His 
warm, moist skin felt luxurious beneath her and the smell of him and the sex 
was really quite intoxicating.  Their breathing fell into a slow mutual 
rhythm.  It was in the few minutes of the calm following the storm that 
Mulder asked Scully the question she knew was coming.
	"Scully?"
	"Hmmmm?"
	"May I ask you something?"
	Scully smiled against his chest.  What is it with men?  They always 
asked.  Maybe not flat out, maybe not blatantly, but somehow, someway they 
always asked.  It pleased her somehow that Mulder was no different.
	"Seven, Mulder" she answered.
	"What?"
	"Seven," she repeated.  Scully shifted more comfortably against him.  
"You were going to ask me that 'on a scale of one to ten question' right?
	Shit, Mulder thought, how did she know?  Was there anything about him 
that this woman didn't already know?  "Well, yeah, I was."
	"Well, the answer is seven."  She closed her eyes, and while she didn't 
look up into his face, she could almost hear his mind processing the data.
	Mulder pondered her answer a bit, trying to make it work out in his 
mind.  Seven.  Seven?  No matter how he rationalized it, that just wasn't 
the number he was hoping for.  Yes, it was better than a one which was 
probably some guy who was gone in 20-seconds and yes, it was better than a 4 
which was probably something that involved batteries.  So, he was just a few 
points above a good quality vibrator?
	"Seven?" he asked again just in case he'd misunderstood and she'd really 
said eleven.
	"Seven, Mulder."
	Shit.  He shouldn't have asked.
	Scully raised her head as she moved higher against him and he held her 
tight.  "God I love the feel of you" she told him, just before she opened 
her mouth and kissed him with all her heart, pressing against him as he held 
on for dear life.  When she lifted her mouth slightly, she was already 
breathless and she could feel his heart beating under hers as she coaxed his 
head forward to whisper in his ear.  "Mulder, before tonight I'd never even 
had a *six*.  As for the rest, I wanted to leave us something to look 
forward to over the years."
	Mulder's head fell back into the pillow as he laughed.  "You're *never* 
going to cut me any slack, are you Scully?" he asked as she shook her head 
with mock-regret and a smile.  "Well, good" he said as stroked her cheek 
with the back of his fingers.  "Someone has to be the rational one."
	"You make me irrational, Mulder," she said with deep conviction.  Scully 
suddenly pulled back just a little and looked deeply into his eyes, serious 
for the first time  "I love it and yet it scares me at the same time.  Just 
like looking forward does," she added softly.
	Mulder nodded, delving into her soul with his eyes and luxuriating in 
the bone-deep contentment that the feel of her body draped down the length 
of his brought.  "I know," he said wistfully, "me too." 
	With a happy sigh, Scully moved of from on top of him but remained 
curled up close again his body within the circle of his arms as she began to 
tickle the fine hairs around his nipples a bit.  She felt a deep contented 
lethargy; the emotional turbulence of the day combining with physical 
expenditure had temporarily depleted her strength.  Scully also mulled over 
the thought that simply sleeping with this man was as beguiling as making 
love to him.  Well, *almost*, she amended, with a smile.
	"Mulder, you quite wore me out," she said in a sleepy voice.  She heard 
his gentle laugh and felt his hand stroke against her back in silent 
agreement.
	"Rest just a bit," Mulder suggested drowsily.  "Then we can work on 
bumping that 7 up to an 8."  He felt Scully smile against him as she nodded 
her absolute agreement with his plans.  He looked down at her resting so 
securely in his arms and he felt at home, he felt safe, just as he always 
had with her.  Except now they were lovers, Mulder thought.  They'd been 
emotional lovers for so long anyway that he was still having a bit of 
trouble with the reality of all this, with the reality of it all finally 
coming full circle to physical lovers too.
	He had to wonder at the variables that had driven both he and Scully to 
take a walk today and wondered it he had God or Fate or Destiny to thank.  
He knew it was one of them, or perhaps all three because he didn't believe 
in coincidence.  Scully did and they would have a good time arguing the 
possibilities of destiny or just dumb luck, he thought, it could keep them 
busy for years.
	Mulder knew the chances were slight that he and Scully could ever be a 
so-called normal couple, living a regular and blessedly ordinary life, 
bickering about the kids and dogs and what color to paint the bathroom.  
That wasn't going to be in their future, not anytime soon anyway.  They'd 
chosen a different path for themselves, just as they'd chosen to stay on it 
to the end.  They'd seen too much, experienced too much and knew too much to 
do otherwise.  Mulder had no illusions that it wouldn't be long until the 
amoral coterie that conspired against them discovered that he and Scully had 
taken this next step.  What ramifications might come of that knowledge he 
didn't yet know, but he did know what they were capable of and that 
knowledge made him uneasy.
	But then he remembered the promise that Scully made to him in the park.
	Mulder believed in her promise.
	So for right now, he wouldn't look more than a few hours ahead.  Right 
now, he just wanted to commit the entirely ordinary act of sleeping with the 
woman he loved a bit, then make love to her a few more times in the late 
night and early morning.  Then they'd eventually have to get up and go to 
work where they would have pretend that they were still just what they'd 
been on Friday - Partners and not lovers.  That was going to be the hardest 
part, he knew.
	But then they could come home and steal moments like this for 
themselves.  God knows they deserved it, he thought, allowing himself a 
completely selfish moment.  They deserved the refuge they'd found with each 
other.  Even so, there was some tiny lingering worry that it was all some 
sort of cruel joke or bad dream.
	"Hey Scully," he asked, shaking her gently as he could tell she was just 
on the verge of sleep.  "Hey, you're not gonna wake up in a hour, decide 
this was all a mistake and leave in the middle of the night are you?"
	"Oh, Mulder I could *never* do that," Scully said, caressing him gently 
with her fingers.  "After all, you've got my underwear."
	God he loved this woman, he thought with a smile.  "And I'm keeping them 
also," he reminded her as he reached over to switch off the lamp.
	"Well, then you're keeping me too, Mulder," she murmured just she fell 
under the edge of sleep.  "I love you," were her last conscious words.
	"Yes, indeed," he whispered back the darkness as he drew the comforter 
up about them.  He glanced at the clock on the nightstand.  It was 11:21 pm.  
Sunday was almost over.
	Too bad, he thought as he curled back into Scully's arms.  He rather 
liked Sundays. 

****************************************
Feedback, comments and all the rest  - Write me, write me, write me!!
KiMeriKal@aol.com / Cathleen Faye
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Version 1.5
"Erotica is just smut gone to college." 
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Disclaimer:  It's not the author's intention to infringe upon or 
profit from the characters created & owned by Chris Carter, 1013 
Productions or the Fox Network and its subsidiaries.
2/23/98				9