Regular People Still
By  Cathleen Faye  / Email: kimerikal@aol.com

Genre: MSR
Rating: NC-17 for explicit sexual content, adult language, and adult 
issues.
Summary:  The sequel to the story started in Regular People.  We're 
back in 1998 where Mulder and Scully are continuing their sojourn. 
This means talk about issues between them, discoveries large and 
small, lots of sex, some laughter, some sadness, and a touch of 
urgency as they are fast running out of time to be regular people.  
Time wise, the story takes place in December 1998, after Dreamland 
and skipping over HTGSC.  Nothing after that date appears, as it 
hasn't happened yet in this world.
Author's Notes: I wrote the first part of this about a year and a 
half ago.  If you haven't read the first part, you probably can 
still follow this as I've backed up at the beginning a bit before 
going forward.  This sequel was a long time coming because of other 
life obligations, but I'd like to thank everyone who wrote feedback 
and kept encouraging (i.e. badgering me <g>) to finish up this 
sequel.
  ________________________________________



December 25, 1998
Martha's Vineyard

Usually when Mulder opened his eyes in the morning, the first thing 
in his line of vision was his lithograph of an old Royal Typewriter, 
a thing that usually received strange looks from people who saw it 
upon entering his apartment the first time.  Of course, they didn't 
know that the typewriter in the picture looked much like the one 
that had sat on the desk in his father's study some thirty years 
ago.  

When he was eight years old, he'd wanted to be a reporter, mostly 
due to the fact that his class had recently visited the local 
newspaper and he'd found the process fascinating.  He'd spent many 
evenings sitting at father's typewriter, jamming the keys together 
and messing the ribbon up as he would hunt and peck away through a 
story.  

That was a time before cut, paste, and spell check.  A time when 
making a mistake meant starting over from the beginning if it was to 
be perfect, without erasures and cover-ups.  He showed his father 
what he'd written and asked him to help him fix it, help him make it 
right.  Together they sat with heads bowed as William Mulder went 
over each story with him.  He helped him correct his grammar and 
spelling, showing him how to tell the story honestly and fairly.  
Mulder still remembered the day his father had handed his paper back 
to him and told him that he didn't need to change a thing because it 
was perfect.

Like the typewriter, that time of closeness with his father was long 
gone now.  It was true that his lithograph was his reminder of a 
time when the frenzied information age hadn't yet dawned; when his 
life was slower, a little more pure.  But mostly, it was his 
reminder of when he learned that making it right took perseverance, 
tenacity, and a willingness to start over.

But on this morning, as he pushed unaccustomed deep sleep from his 
mind, he saw very different view before him.  One of trees and blue 
sky and morning sunlight streaming through the branches, turning the 
pines a brilliant green, and throwing shadows about.  And for just a 
moment in time, he didn't know where he was.  Then, in the blink of 
an eye, the knowledge was there.  

He was home.  Not home in Alexandria, but his childhood home on 
Martha's Vineyard.  He lay curled up on his stomach in his parent's 
large bed, a place of sanctuary he hadn't slept the night in since 
he was six years old and frightened by closet monsters.

It was December and outside the warmth of the blankets, the air was 
cool on his hand.  As he shifted slightly under the blanket, he felt 
the brush of heat from Scully's body radiate lightly against the 
skin of his back.  That was another sensation that he couldn't 
remember feeling for a very long time, a sweet presence within his 
personal space.  The warmth against the left side of his back was 
enticing given the chill of the morning.  His instinct was to turn 
towards it, but instead, he kept his gaze fixed on the tranquil 
scene visible through the French doors as he lazily drank in the 
winter beauty.  Cold weather always made the colors so clear and he 
noticed that there was a slight breeze outside.  The boughs on the 
trees swayed gently back and forth causing the sun to make dancing 
patterns of shadow on the redwood deck outside the window.

Mulder unfolded his curled-up legs, flexing his feet and stretching, 
unkinking the muscles.  But as he moved, he felt small toes graze up 
against his calf.  He carefully moved his body again, now slowly 
nestling back towards the warmth, feeling her skin contact lightly 
against his body.  Suddenly, she moved too, and he felt a brush of 
hair tickle his back as it feathered by.  The sensation caused him 
to smile and the urge to turn over and take her into his arms was 
becoming a need.

Good God, he was on the verge of becoming a cuddler.  Mulder laughed 
quietly as he rolled his eyes.  That was just about a nine on the 
scale of ten of male wussiness, maybe one step below admitting you 
liked a chick flick.  But he didn't care because he found that he 
was quickly adapting to the new feeling that this simple physical 
intimacy invoked.  It was strangely compelling, this calm after the 
storm.  Content.  That was the word.  He couldn't remember being 
this content in a long time.  And he knew the feeling was a 
fledgling-- newborn and ill prepared to endure in the harsh world 
that was often their existence.  He feared for the feeling's 
capacity to survive, let alone thrive.

He yawned deeply as his thoughts rambled about in that marvelous 
world of half-sleep.  Before full consciousness came to put them in 
order.  God--he'd made love to Scully last night.  Actually, just a 
few hours ago.  And, unlike everything else in theirs lives, it had 
happened with an astonishing lack of fanfare; a simple, natural 
moment six years in the making and yet only one day in the 
fulfillment.  And somehow he'd ended up in bed with the last person 
he'd expected to see yesterday morning.

She'd showed up unexpectedly at his father's house in West Tisbury 
when at that moment she was supposed to be with her family in 
California.  He'd dropped her off at the airport himself the 
previous day.  He'd gone on to Martha's Vineyard where he was going 
to spend the holidays getting his father's house ready to sell.  But 
as he worked in the yard, he'd heard his name called and recognized 
her voice before he'd even turned his head.  And there she was, 
standing at the gate, waiting for him to let her in.  How prophetic.

At first, it seemed that she was simply there by default.  She'd had 
no where else to go after winter storms caused her holiday plans to 
fall apart.  But no matter the reason, he'd been absurdly pleased 
that she was there.  And although he appeared to be sympathetic to 
her plight, the reality was that he was just doing a very good job 
at hiding the fact that he was delighted by her misfortune.  And so 
began a day unlike no other in all their years together.  A day that 
regular people would call mundane or even boring.  Fools, he 
thought, dumb shit fools.  They had no clue how lucky they had it or 
how fortunate they were to be ignorant of what he and Scully knew.

He discovered Scully yesterday.  Certainly nothing big, nothing 
dramatic, she just filled in some of the gaps, little bits and 
pieces that he didn't know, or that she hadn't let him know, before.  
She'd insisted on helping him clean up the yard at his father's 
house and they'd talked, played, flirted, and generally acted like a 
couple of teenagers whose parents were out of town.  But even so, 
when they'd returned to his childhood home in Chilmark, it might 
have gone no further.  They'd danced this dance before and had 
always gone their separate ways when it was over.

But then late last night, just before she left for Midnight Mass, 
she told him something that had rocked him.  Perhaps he'd started it 
by opening his big mouth and saying something incredibly sentimental 
to her.  Jesus, he'd even brought God into it and feeling 
embarrassed, he'd immediately made for the kitchen to hide out, 
pretending to rinse the dishes.  But within moments, he'd heard her 
call his name for the second time that day and reluctantly, he came 
back to the doorway of the kitchen and hovered there, slowly raising 
his eyes to meet hers.  Scully stood at the front door and he'd 
thought she was simply going to say goodbye.  But instead, she told 
him something that he hadn't even realized he'd needed to hear.

"Mulder, I could have still made it to my family's if I'd wanted 
to."

Whoa.  He wasn't expecting that at all.  

Chosen.  He'd been chosen.  As those words sank in, he felt a smile 
cross his face and Scully returned it softly as though she also was 
a little self-conscious by her own outburst of sentimentality.  And 
then she was gone, leaving him alone to cope with his newfound 
knowledge and its implications.  With a simple sentence, she'd 
tossed the ball back right back in his court.  And now he just had 
hours to think and wait.

He'd gone upstairs and glanced in Scully's room, realizing that the 
bed wasn't made.  No matter how his plans turned out, he knew she 
was tired.  He found the flannel sheets in the closet and put the 
bed together, then just stood there as he considered his options.  
Finally, he turned off the light and headed back down the hallway to 
his old room where he flopped himself down on the bed in the dark.  
He folded his hands behind his head and waited.  Several hours later 
he awoke from his light doze when he heard the sound of the front 
door opening and closing and then her footsteps on the stairs.  For 
a brief moment, he hoped she might actually bypass her room and come 
to him, but she didn't.  And so instead, he went to her last night.  

Well, actually, he almost didn't.  The usual insecurities decided to 
plague him a bit, along with that deep-rooted fear that he was about 
to make a colossal ass of himself and then have to live with that 
humiliation.  All in all, it'd taken two trips down the hall to open 
that damn door.  She'd taken him in, just as he'd really known all 
along that she would.  And he'd made love to her right here in his 
parent's antique sleigh bed.  The same bed that he'd been conceived 
in back when his mother and father had actually still been in love 
and wanted to create a living expression of how they felt about each 
other.  In other words, a very long, long time ago.

There would be no such expression for them, he thought and his 
reaction to that sudden, random perception was an soft melancholy 
that washed through briefly and then faded away.  He nestled in back 
closer to the warmth behind him.  He could now feel her faint breath 
on his back.  He wanted to turn and look at her, but he didn't.

The truth was that in his thirty-seven years the only baby he'd ever 
held in his arms had been his little sister.  His parents had 
prepared him carefully for her arrival.  Hoping, as all parents do, 
to ward off whatever sibling rivalry they could.  They'd tried to 
make him feel involved and excited by telling him how much his 
little sister would depend on her big brother to show her around.  
Perhaps they hadn't realized that he would take that responsibility 
so much to heart.  And when he first looked down at the big baby-
gray eyes staring back solemnly up at him, he remembered telling her 
that he was going to share all the things he knew so far in the 
world.  As he had all the confidence that a four-year-old who'd 
experienced few failures could muster, it never once occurred to him 
to wonder if he was up to the task.  And that confidence had lasted 
until he was twelve.

And since then, the thought of having a small, squirming life placed 
in his arms for safekeeping seemed absurd.  In the few times he'd 
thought of kids at all during the ensuing years, it'd always been 
with the concern of not being able to keep a child safe from the 
horrors he knew to be in the world already.  And in later years, he 
wondered how to keep a child safe from the horrors he knew to be 
coming.  After all, they hadn't been able to protect Emily; it had 
been beyond their power.  They'd felt useless and helpless.

He knew that Scully had been especially confused about what she felt 
and what she thought she was supposed to feel about a child that was 
genetically hers and yet a complete stranger.  A child she'd not 
even had the chance to know before that prospect was taken away.  He 
knew that she'd struggled hard to reconcile her conflicted emotions 
and because he always saw under her façade of control, he knew that 
struggle had broken Scully's heart in small ways.  And for his own 
reasons, for his own suspicions, it had broken his to watch her.  
No, there was no question that children were a ridiculous notion.  
But in another type of life, one they would never have, he thought 
that he might have been brave enough to try with Scully.  They might 
have done OK together.

He now felt the slim body behind him move again, breaking his flow 
of thought as it molded to his, and he felt her hand touch his 
shoulder blade, caressing gently.  Oh, that was nice, very nice.  
Thinking she'd awakened, he finally raised his head and turned over 
to look at her.  But her eyes were still closed and her breathing 
soft and even.  Her touch was being done in her sleep.  She was 
apparently as unused to sharing her sleeping space as he was and she 
seemed to be testing the limits of her area in the bed.  It was very 
true that having sex and sleeping together were two entirely 
different things and each took some getting used to.  He smiled at 
the way her face was slightly smushed up against the pillow.  It was 
cute.

He shook his head.  Oh Jesus, now he was using words like "cute."  
On Scully, of all people no less.  He thought about waking her but 
decided that would be selfish.  Mulder pulled back the blanket and 
sat up, feeling the shock of cold air against his naked skin.  He 
got out of the bed and bent to pick up his T-shirt and sweat pants 
that had been tossed to the floor last night in their rush to get at 
each other.  As he pulled his clothes on against the chill of the 
December morning, he was already wondering about the next time that 
he would make love to her.  His body was responding to the idea of 
seeing Scully's body in the light and feeling her touch again.

Last night had been exactly what it should have been, intense, 
fierce, concentrated.  And quick, too damn quick.  Not that he'd 
left Scully behind in the sexual pleasure department.  He'd felt 
her, he'd heard her and even in the dim moonlight, he'd seen her.  
But next time he wanted long and slow, with lots of talking about 
what they liked, what they wanted, what they might have fantasized 
about.  Of course, maybe he was just being egotistical and arrogant 
to think she might have fantasized about him.  But surely, she had--
God knows, he had about her.  From her ardent response last night, 
he felt sure that there was just no way he was alone in that.

Mulder bent down over Scully, tucking the blanket back about her as 
he placed a kiss on the round of her shoulder, and then another into 
the curve of her neck.  He sniffed deeply as he did so and was 
rewarded with the scent of them together.  Oh God, this was a good 
feeling.  Better than anything he had a memory of in recent years.  
Suddenly feeling overwhelmed, Mulder left the bedroom silently, 
avoiding the squeaky floorboard in the hallway, and headed back to 
his old bedroom.  He entered his small bathroom and started the 
shower, letting it run a moment as he knew it took a while for the 
water heater of the old house to actually send any hot water 
upstairs.  He went into the hallway and turned on the gas heater, 
another thing that barely worked.

Returning to the bathroom, he stripped off his clothes again and 
took a long shower, emerging clean and renewed.  He hadn't shaved in 
a couple days so he did so now.  He razored the beard away and then 
rinsed his face with the warm water.  As he touched his face, his 
fingertips grazed over his lips and that touch brought back the 
memory of hers.  His fingers lingered and Mulder closed his eyes a 
moment before as the feeling washed through him.  How long had it 
been since he'd allowed himself to just feel normal?  Emotion closed 
his throat up and he sat down on the edge of the tub to regain his 
composure.  He shook his head as a self-mocking laugh escaped him.  
Oh man, he was in love.  Not that the in love part was any kind of a 
self-revelation, but he was feeling pretty damn selfish about it.  
He wanted to hang on to this feeling of contentment, it was 
addicting, and the first he'd let himself have in so long.

It was so ironic that people thought his single-mindedness came 
naturally when nothing could be farther from the truth.  People 
tended to think of Scully as the one with control and it was true 
that her will was formidable.  But they liked to joke that his was 
an obsession when the reality was that it was a conscious choice he 
made everyday.  Every single day.  And everyday, he felt a little 
more drained by that choice and its responsibility.  Everyday, it 
wore him down, the constant emotional battle over which lie to 
believe or which path to follow.  Everyday, many of the choices he 
made were quite literally a matter of life and death.  For himself, 
for Scully, for the people they cared about and the fortunate 
oblivious who had no clue what danger they were in.

And everyday, the sky fell a little faster in spite of his and 
Scully's best efforts to hold it up.

He finished dressing and headed downstairs.  It wasn't until he was 
actually in the kitchen and looking out over the field behind the 
house that he remembered it was Christmas morning.  He'd lost his 
sentimentality about holiday many years ago, but even so, this day 
usually brought an empty feeling, a sensation of being left out, 
left behind somehow.  He knew it wasn't at all unusual to feel that 
way during this time of year.  Many felt disconnected or 
disenfranchised so in one sense, he was no different than other 
people.  But the wonder of it was that he didn't feel that way 
today.  And it wasn't because he'd made love to Scully last night, 
as extraordinary as that had been.  No, the reason for the feeling 
was much less complex.  It was because she'd spent the day helping 
him clean the yard at his father's house.  She'd chosen to be with 
him.  She'd needed to be with him and for just once in her life 
she'd let him know that.

This was a feeling that he liked and it was a feeling he could get 
used to having on a daily basis.  But to do so, he'd have to turn 
his back on everything else that had driven him all the years.  He'd 
willingly put up with the humiliation and bullshit over the years 
because he'd believed that they were helping people who'd had no one 
else to turn to, no one else to believe them.  And after the events 
of last summer, it was even more apparent just how vital this work 
was.

But for a long time now, it had been hard to find a reason to get up 
in the morning, get dressed and head off to the Bureau to see his 
life's work handed to someone else to fuck up.  Where he was 
publicly and deliberately humiliated and degraded on a daily basis.  
It'd had been damn hard to rise above the depression caused by the 
loss of his work, the thing that had defined what he was for so 
long.  He'd spent the last months trying to get his sense of purpose 
back and he hadn't achieved it.  He and Scully both kept going and 
they managed to keep defying A.D.  Kersh where they could, slipping 
in under his radar as Scully put it.  But he wondered if it was only 
a matter of time until they were separated again and Kersh found a 
way to drive his ass out of the bureau.  It was hard, just damn hard 
to find a hope to hang on to.

But this...this was so easy.

And fun.  This was a word he didn't often get to use in anything 
relating to his own life.  Doing backbreaking yard work had seemed 
like play.  Going grocery shopping with her had been entertaining.  
Cooking dinner together had been enjoyable.  Hell, tossing her on 
that pile of leaves had been downright carefree.  And he didn't have 
a word to describe the lovemaking.  But it was all so easy.  And so 
tempting.

He looked out the window at the bright sun and thought about the 
woman upstairs who slept so peacefully by his side last night.  
Scully had asked him just a short while ago if he ever wanted to 
slow down and live a normal life.  He'd made a flippant reply but 
the question hadn't left him for a moment and the fact that Scully 
had even asked it of him had stayed with him too.  Maybe it was time 
to turn away from it all.  Admit that one man and one woman couldn't 
fight the future.  Maybe they could just learn to live in the 
present.  Other people got to do that, why shouldn't they?

But he already knew the answer, even as the temptation beckoned.  
Because they had work to do.  Work that only they could do.  It 
wasn't arrogance that made him believe that, it was simple truth.  
Right now, except for Scully, all that he'd cared about was gone.  
He was off the X-Files with what seemed little hope of ever getting 
back.  Sleeping with Scully didn't change that and of course, their 
continuing to sleep together wouldn't change that either.  And he 
had every intention of continuing to sleep with Scully, but he was 
not so sure that they would be returned to the X-Files.

And he wondered what Scully was feeling about all this.  He wondered 
if she was feeling as enchanted as he.  He needed to talk to her and 
he realized the beauty of that concept, found it comforting.  But 
then, as if on cue, he heard the shower go on upstairs and he 
suddenly felt just slightly panicked.  Shit.  She was up.  In a few 
minutes, she would be down here, looking him in the eye and things 
were going to start getting real again.  What was she going to say 
to him?  What would he say to her?  How should he act?  What...

God, you moron, it's Scully.  Just stop it.

As the sound of running water continued, his mind drifted elsewhere, 
to a Scully who was naked in the shower at this very moment.  He 
hadn't yet seen her body in the soft light of day.  Desire washed 
through him at the thought of her wet and washing her hair and 
running her hands over her soapy, slick body with those perfect 
breasts that he'd finally gotten to touch and taste and...

Stop this.  Stop this right now.

A flushed Mulder decided that busying himself with making coffee 
would help him keep himself in control.  As the coffee brewed, he 
got out a few breakfast things and generally putzed until he decided 
that maybe he should take the coffee up to her.  Maybe she was 
waiting for him to approach her.  Mulder was just pouring the coffee 
into mugs when he heard the telltale squeak of floorboard at the top 
of the stairs.  Taking the mugs in his hand, he moved to the doorway 
in time to see Scully's feet appear on the stairwell and then 
descend as the rest of her came into view.  She was looking over at 
the living room as she came down, not seeing him in the kitchen 
doorway.  As he watched her a moment, he thought it must feel very 
strange for her, this holiday with no family, no Christmas, nothing 
that was familiar to her.  Except him.

"Good Morning," he called out softly so as not to startle her.

But she turned at the sound of his voice and the smile that graced 
her face made his heart quicken.  God, she was so beautiful.  She 
paused at the foot of the stairs.  "Morning, Mulder."

"I was just coming to wake you up.  The place comes with room 
service you know."

Scully came to him and took one of the coffee mugs from his hand, 
her fingers grazing his as she did so and he almost dropped the 
other mug.  "Thank you."

He searched her face for any sign of regret or awkwardness and found 
none.  Then he realized he couldn't just continue to stand and stare 
at her like an idiot so he gestured to her to sit down as he 
retreated to the kitchen.  Down boy, he thought, it's just 
breakfast.  Scooping up the muffins and the orange juice, he 
returned to the living room where Scully sat on the couch, sipping 
her coffee.  She watched him as he set them on the coffee table 
before taking his place next to her, the warmth of her body and her 
sweet, clean smell making him weak.  "I forgot something," he told 
her.

Scully turned from the meal in front of them to meet his eyes.  
"What?" she asked.

"This."  Mulder slowly leaned towards her, kissing her lightly, 
before drawing back as the quicksilver tightening in the pit of his 
stomach shot through him.  The same as he'd felt last night.  He 
kissed her again, deeper, feeling her respond, feeling her move to 
caress his lips with her own.  God, he could just kiss Scully 
forever.  When he finally drew away, he saw that she was as moved by 
him as he was by her.  Exactly the way it should be, he thought.  
What would it be like to have this kind of freedom all the time.  
That thought sobered him again, and he turned away, picked up his 
coffee mug, and stared down at it.  Scully seemed to sense his mood 
change, and he felt her arm slide across his back as her other hand 
came to rest on his forearm, stroking back and forth.

"What?" she asked, her tone was low and coaxing.

"Scully, you asked me a question a little while ago that I never 
really answered."

"Which question, Mulder?"

"You asked me whether I ever wanted to settle down, and live 
something approaching a normal life.  Well, the answer is yes."  He 
turned his eyes to hers, nodding slowly.  "Yes, Scully, every once 
in a while I think exactly that.  Especially if that normal life 
could be like this.  Like yesterday.  Like last night."  He took a 
deep breath, not sure how of to say the rest without sounding 
pessimistic, but truth was, he felt pessimistic.  "But I don't know 
that it's something that I'll ever be able have because so much else 
in my life conspires to prevent it.  But I do think about it, 
Scully.  More and more lately."  He glanced over at her and she 
nodded.  Mulder set his mug back on the table.  "But I have a 
question for you too."  He stood and retreated to one of the 
windows, putting some distance between them as he looked out on the 
lawn covered in morning dew, wondering if he even wanted to hear the 
answer to his next question.  He turned back to her.

"Scully--do you believe that my sister was abducted by aliens?"

He saw a startled look cross her face.  Clearly, this wasn't a 
question she expected on this morning.  The only other time he'd 
asked the question of her, she'd been unwilling to reply, unwilling 
to hurt him by saying it aloud.  He hadn't pressed her and they'd 
let it go.  But he needed to hear the answer today.  Where they went 
from here depended upon it.  He waited in silence and somewhat to 
his surprise, Scully never looked away from him.  Not once.

"Mulder..." she paused a moment.  "Yes, Mulder.  I believe it's 
possible.  I've believed it for a long time.  I just never told 
you."

And that wasn't the answer that he'd been so sure he would hear.  He 
crossed back over to her and knelt before her, searching her face.  
"Really, Scully?"  She nodded as a sad, hesitant smile crossed her 
face and he could see that she knew what they were giving up.  But 
she'd given him the truth he'd asked for.  "Thank you," he pulled 
her into his arms.  "Thank you for telling me."  He drew back and 
touched her face.  "That's the best Christmas present I've ever 
had," he said lightly to cover his emotion.  "But I didn't get you 
anything."

She shook her head and a bittersweet look crossed her face as she 
touched him.  "Yes, you did, Mulder.  For six years, you and I have 
been on a journey whose nature doesn't allow us the opportunity to 
be regular people.  We're different, you and I.  Different both by 
circumstance and by choice.  But we're still different, we're still 
outsiders to many of the things the rest of the world gets to take 
for granted.  But yesterday, last night and today, we did all the 
regular people things that regular people get to do.  I wanted that 
gift for a long time."  She took his face in her hands.  "I know 
that we'll get the X-files back soon because we have a job to 
finish.  And I know that by necessity, things will return to how 
they were before.  But I'll have these days forever.  You gave me 
that and it's the best gift I could ask for...even if I know I have 
to give it back soon."  Scully wrapped her arms around his neck as 
she held him close again.  "And I did get to go home to my family 
for Christmas, Mulder."

"Scully..." He started to say more but his throat felt painful as he 
realized how well this woman understood him.  "Yes," he agreed 
simply.  They would return from this sojourn with their original 
determination intact.  They would somehow get back what was theirs 
and continue their journey together.  There was a certain relief 
that they'd made their decision.  While they would most assuredly 
continue in this new phase of their closeness, they'd have to 
forfeit the open freedom they found here on this island and in this 
cottage.  And that normal life she'd talked about on the road to 
Nevada would not be theirs for the keeping.

But it would be theirs for the next few days.

He rose back to his feet and she followed him as he moved back up 
the stairs.  He felt slightly awkward, nervous even.  He was going 
to take Scully to bed and make love to her.  No, it wasn't their 
first time, but last night seemed dreamlike somehow, spontaneous and 
unstructured.  But this was different, this was very deliberate.  As 
he looked down at her, she met his eyes briefly then glanced away, 
causing him to smile.  Oh good, she was self-conscious too, it 
wasn't just him.  Mulder's usual defense mechanism was humor and he 
became amused at the thought that at their age, this would make them 
feel like clumsy adolescents.  But since that was actually pretty 
close to how he felt, he might as well take advantage of that.

At the top of the stairs, she reached out to open the door to her 
room, but he caught her hand.  She looked up at him again and saw 
that he now wore that playful, wicked smile from yesterday when he'd 
tossed her in the leaf pile.  "What, Mulder?"  She asked with 
cautious curiosity, knowing him well.  As she stepped toward him, 
she hit the creaky floorboard.

He raised one finger to his lips as he bent low to her ear.  "Shhh, 
you'll wake my Mom," he whispered.  "Come on, my room's this way," 
he said as he nodded his head in the direction of his room.  He 
tugged on her hand as he walked backwards down the hallway towards 
his old room, leading her to his domain.

Scully smiled, remembering their conversation about his bed from 
yesterday.  God, was that only yesterday?  "OK," she whispered back 
as he led her down the hallway.  "But I should warn you that my dad 
will kick your butt if I'm not home by midnight."

He pushed open the door to his room with his foot and drew her 
inside as he grinned at her.  "Midnight of what year?"

They stood in the center of his room and looked at each other.  "So, 
you bring a lot of girls from school up here, Mulder?" she asked.

"Only the ones with a high tolerance for listening to theories of 
government conspiracy."

"Oh, so I'm the first then."  He smiled at that.  "Well, I'd listen 
to anything to get out of Home Economics, but I was kinda hoping for 
not too much talk here."

"I can do less talk."  He bent down to kiss her, pulling her up 
against him.  The height difference that had never been a problem 
before, now became a source of further amusement.  Laughing 
slightly, he drew away.  "OK--I need to be shorter," he told her.  
"Or, you need to be taller."

Scully gave him that amused look that he'd seen more of in the last 
twenty-four hours than in the last year.  "Well, if I'd brought some 
spiky high heels with me, Mulder, I'd be happy to put them on.  But 
since I didn't, I'm afraid you'll have to settle for getting less 
vertical."

"Damn, I like the high heel thing, but your solution works too."

"I thought you'd think so."

He sat on the edge of the bed and she came to stand before him.  He 
reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, laying his head 
against her belly.  He felt her cradle her against him and he closed 
his eyes and enjoyed the sensation.  After a moment, he felt her 
kiss the top of his head as her voice reached him.

"I want to know the story, Mulder."

He shook his head in confusion as he looked up at her, not 
understanding her question.

She stroked the back of her fingers down his face.  "Yesterday, you 
told me that you didn't have as many stories as you'd hoped about 
this bed.  And I asked you if there was at least one."

"Oh God, are we back to that conversation?"

"Uh, huh."

"Same deal goes, Scully.  You gotta tell me about yours first."

"OK.  Deal."

Her quick agreement surprised him.  God, was Scully really going to 
tell him about how she lost her virginity?  He gave a small laugh as 
she stepped back out his arms just a bit and he looked up now to 
meet her eyes, seeing the wicked gleam there.  She'd called his 
bluff and he'd walked right into it, he thought with a silent laugh.

"It was my senior year of high school, Mulder.  I'd waited a long 
time.  Longer than most of the girls in my class if their stories 
were to be believed."  As she talked, Scully lifted her left foot 
and placed it on the top of Mulder's thigh.  She leaned over and 
slowly began to slide the white sock off, rolling it slowly down her 
ankle and then her foot.  Mulder's eyes followed her movements as 
she bared her toes, complete with painted nails, flexed them slowly 
over the muscle of his thigh and lowered her foot back to the floor.

Mulder swallowed hard.

"I was feeling like I was missing out on something, that somehow 
everybody but me was in on this big wonderful secret."  Scully 
placed her other foot on his thigh and this time, Mulder got the 
idea.  He reached over and rolled the sock off himself as she 
continued talking while he worked.  "I'd been going out with a boy 
named Marcus.  He was a nice combination of cute and smart, a 
science geek like myself and we'd been lab partners in a couple of 
classes."

As she talked, Mulder ran his hand over fine bones of her foot, and 
skimming his fingers over the toes.  With his index finger, he 
traced the arch of her foot and she jumped a little.  Ah, Scully was 
ticklish.  He made a mental note and stored it away for future use.

"I guess I had a habit of falling for partners even back then," she 
said with soft irony as she slid her foot gently from his grasp.  
She stood before him again, and he raised his eyes to meet hers.  
"Anyway, we'd planned on doing it after the prom.  But that didn't 
work because of a long story I won't go into now."  She raised her 
hand and unbuttoned the cuff on her white cotton shirt, slowly 
sliding the two buttons back through the holes as Mulder watched 
closely as though he'd never seen such a wondrous thing.

"So the next time the opportunity arose was about a week later."  
She now extended her other arm to Mulder, who took her wrist in his 
hand as his long fingers deftly made short work of the tiny button.  
"We decided to get out of town a ways, so Marcus borrowed his Dad's 
Lincoln Continental and we headed up to the mountains."

Mulder slowly bent and pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist, 
kissing his way slowly into her palm.  He heard her quick breath 
intake as he did so, and he felt her other hand thread softly though 
his hair.  He was amazed at the sensation that coursed through him 
at that touch and it sent a quiver of feeling through his body.  
"You would have been proud of me; we told our parents that we were 
going to go watch an unusual meteor shower for astronomy class."

Mulder grinned as he looked up at her again.

"So, we're up in the mountains parked on a back road by the lake, 
and we're in the back seat of the Lincoln Continental, making out 
like teenagers in heat do."  She paused, remembering something.  
"Marcus wasn't a terribly artful kisser, he just kind of clamped his 
lips on to you and ground away."  As she spoke, Scully slowly pulled 
the tucked-in shirt from her pants.  "But anyway, I'm feeling this 
hard thing bumping into my hip and I know it's not his belt buckle.  
So I'm figuring, OK-- now's the time and I'm gonna do it in the back 
of a Continental and just how cliche is that?"

When done with pulling out her shirt, she stepped close into his 
body between his spread legs, her legs rubbing against the insides 
of his thighs.  She took his hands, which had been gripping his 
knees, and placed them on the bottom buttons of her shirt, urging 
him to start on them while she started on the top ones.  Mulder 
curbed his instinct to simply rip the shirt off and send the buttons 
flying.  This was Scully's game and he was actually enjoying it, 
which was remarkable considering he was hearing about the first 
bastard lucky enough to touch the woman he loved.

"So I give Marcus the go-ahead and in the dark I can hear him 
fumbling desperately in his wallet for that condom he probably 
acquired somewhere during his sophomore year."  Scully had opened 
most of the buttons on the top part of her shirt.  "And he keeps 
saying, 'thank you' over and over, although I was never quite sure 
if he was talking to me or God."

Mulder laughed at that, burying his face briefly against Scully's 
belly again before continuing his task of opening the shirt.  Their 
hands met in the middle and they undid the final button together.  
She took his hands and held them as she bent down to kiss him.  He 
parted his lips and let her have full access as she took his mouth, 
her tongue soft against his lips.  He caressed her lips his own, 
teasing and nipping gently.  She drew back slowly and opened her 
closed eyes.  "Now, here's a man who knows how to kiss," she 
whispered.  Mulder reached to kiss her again, but she straightened 
back up.  Taking the shirt in her hands, she slowly dropped it from 
her shoulders to the floor.

Mulder was going insane and she wasn't even halfway undressed.  He 
felt his cock hardening and pushing at his sweatpants.  He reached 
out for her again and this time, he succeeded in pulling her back 
against him.  He applied his kiss to her warm belly and felt her 
muscles twitch under him.  He unbuttoned the snap on her jeans and 
lowered the zipper, laying wet, soft marks on her navel and below.  
Splaying his hand over her lower back, he pressed her to him and he 
felt her hands slide into his hair and grasp on.

"So anyway..." she continued, her voice sounding just a bit strained 
now as his hands moved over her.  "So anyway, I'm laying on the back 
seat trying to find a way to gracefully wiggle out of too-tight 
jeans while Marcus is snapping on the old rubber."  And he laughed, 
as she intended him to, at her reference to their old argument.

Scully stepped back and caught the waistband of her jeans with her 
thumbs.  She lowered them slowly, moving her hips in a delicious to 
watch side-to-side motion, revealing her lovely thighs that Mulder 
remembered feeling closed around him like an embrace last night, 
holding him within.  The memory of that flooded back and left him 
sweaty, as though the sight in front of him wasn't enough to make 
him pass out with want.

Scully placed a hand on his shoulder, which he reached across his 
chest to hold, as she stepped delicately out of the jeans, kicking 
them aside.  Mulder appreciatively took in the sight of her slender 
hips that curved beautifully into to a small waist.  He reached out 
and wrapped his hand around the curve of her waist, then leaned in 
to kiss the warm skin of her belly.  His long fingers kneaded the 
soft flesh as his own body was now aching with hard need, his balls 
and cock feeling heavy.

Scully couldn't help but make a warm pleasured sound at his touch 
and she smoothed her hand through his hair before continuing her 
story.  "So finally, we'd taken off the right things and put on the 
right things and with foreplay that consisted of Marcus kicking his 
shoes off, he rolls on top, then shoved up into me hard and got 
right to it."

Mulder looked up at her, and in his beautiful eyes she saw a flash 
of that protective fierceness that he always carried for her.  His 
lips parted slightly with an unspoken question and she shook her 
head to reassure him.  "It didn't hurt, Mulder.  Not really.  I had 
kind of expected it to, but it didn't."  She stepped forward and 
crawled on to his lap, sitting astride him on the bed as he took her 
in his arms.

Mulder nodded as he looked at her and she felt his hands on her 
back, moving in soothing circles as he nudged her forward to kiss 
her again tenderly.  God, this was just too much, she thought.  
Sensory overload kicked in as the warm skin of his chest pressed 
into her.  She felt Mulder's growing erection straining against her 
damp panties as she moved just ever so slowly against him and she 
felt his breathing deepen.  She finally drew away from the kiss, 
caressing his face.

But as he watched, she looked down just slightly, as though the next 
part was a little hard to say, her deeply ingrained self-constraint 
always there.  But he dipped his head down too, maintaining eye 
contact with her, not letting her hide from him as she continued.

"Actually, to be honest, I didn't feel much at all, and I wondered 
what the hell all the fuss was about.  Needless to say, I didn't 
have an orgasm and it wasn't until much, much later that I began to 
figure it out what the big deal was."

He tilted his head slightly as he looked at her, but he didn't make 
the glib comment that he could have so easily.  Instead his gaze 
became tender as he put his hand to her face, cupping her cheek as 
he caressed her lips with his thumb.  "I wish it had been better for 
you, Scully," he said finally said quietly.

She smiled slowly at his words, then hugged him close.  This was 
exactly why she loved this man and for a moment, she stayed 
motionless, just feeling his hardness of his body and the softness 
of his heart.  "It wasn't unpleasant, Mulder, but even if it had 
been, it wouldn't have been too bad because it was over pretty damn 
quickly.  Poor Marcus was pretty embarrassed about that and of 
course, I kept lying through my teeth like a good girlfriend and 
telling him it'd been wonderful."

She laughed lightly, as did he.  And they nuzzled slowly together, 
playfully touching lips to noses, eyebrows, and cheekbones.  Scully 
sat back just a little to undo the single front clasp of her bra and 
Mulder slid it from her shoulders where it joined the heap on the 
floor.  He looked at her breasts in the warm sunlight for the first 
time and she could see the desire overwhelm him.  His hand came up 
to mold itself over the rounded softness as he bent his head to kiss 
the other.  When his lips covered her nipple to suckle and tease, 
she felt the warmth flood through her, causing her to squirm against 
his shielded cock.

"You know Scully," he said lifting his warm mouth for just a moment, 
"I gotta say, out of all the stories I could have thought of, you 
doing it in the back seat of a Cadillac--"

"--A Continental."

"...A Continental, was just not on the list."

She caressed him, sliding her hands along his shoulders and playing 
with the hair on the nape of his neck, as he tasted her nipple, 
hardening it to a peak with his tongue.  God, he was making her feel 
good, both hot and relaxed.  It was a moment before she could answer 
him.  "It wasn't on my list either, Mulder," she said wryly.  "It 
didn't exactly happen like I'd always imagined."

"What had you always imagined?" he asked as he placed wet, laving 
kisses over her breasts that felt comforting and exciting at the 
same time.  She looked at his bowed head and trailed her fingers 
through his thick hair.

"Exactly what happened with you last night," she answered softly.

Mulder went still and then looked up at her.  He blinked slowly, 
touched by her words as he drew a long breath.  "God, Scully--" he 
broke off, his voice tightly emotional.

But Scully saved him.  She ran her fingers over his lips, stopping 
any other words, as she smiled.  "I want to make love to you, 
Mulder," she whispered.  "I want to make you feel so good."  And she 
kissed him completely, sealing her request as she delved deeply into 
his mouth, feeling his grip on her tighten as he melted into the 
kiss.  It was a long time before he came up for air.

"But I haven't told you my story," he teased, breaking the kiss.  
His hand crept back up to cover her breast, kneading firmly again as 
the woman sitting on his lap made some wicked little movements 
against him with her soft, sweet ass.

"Later, let me make love to you first," she insisted.

"Oh, OK..." He said with mock resignation as he leaned back just 
enough to strip his T-shirt off quickly over his head, tossing it on 
the floor and causing her to laugh at the same time.  Scully raised 
herself off his lap so that he could wiggle out of his sweatpants, 
which he kicked off over his bare feet, before he settled back up 
against the pillows on the bed.  He reached up to gather her back 
into his arms, but she caught his hands.  She gently pushed them 
back against the bed on either side of his head, holding them in 
place as she kissed his eyes closed and worked her way slowly across 
his face and then down his neck.

She rubbed over his nipples with her thumbs, teasing them easily to 
hard peaks before she kissed and licked each of them in their turn.  
She lightly scraped her nails through his chest hair, tracing a 
pattern lightly, tickling and causing his belly to twitch.  He 
started to caress her but she caught his hands again and gently 
pushed them back by his side.  "Relax and enjoy this, Mulder," she 
requested lightly.  He gave up and crossed his arms behind his head 
as she wanted and let her have dominion over his body.

And Scully took advantage of him while he watched.  She kissed and 
trailed her tongue down the outside of his arm, working a pathway 
down his side and back over his rib cage.  She then latched on to 
his nipple again before turning to his cock that waited at attention 
for her.  She ran her tongue down its length, tip to base.  She 
wetly traced the ridges of vein and flesh, paying particular 
attention to the underside, flicking her tongue, teasing, and 
feeling the heat of him.

"Oh God, Scully.  There, right there."  As he requested, Scully went 
to work on a spot right below the crown, laying the flat of her 
tongue against it.  She rubbed in a circular motion, feeling him 
squirm.  She rolled the tender skin covering his balls, reaching 
under them and massaging the perineum area in a deep, firm touch 
that sent bliss waves and a low cry from him rewarded her efforts.  
His legs and hips moved from the sensation as the feeling went on 
and on from her touch, building slowly and reaching a peak.  To keep 
him from going too fast, she moved her hand to grasp the base of his 
cock, squeezing in firmly and then gently tugging on his ball sack, 
bringing him back just a little.  She trailed her tongue along the 
length of his penis, giving it a little bath, cleaning away the 
small bit of juice that formed at the tip.  She then took him back 
in her mouth as she began to build the sweet pressure back up, then 
released him again.

She heard Mulder's hushed voice.  "Please, Scully."  She turned her 
eyes to look at him.  He lay sweat burnished and breathing hard 
through parted lips as he gazed at her through narrowed eyes.  
"Please.  I need to come...Help me."

Mulder's unconstrained want and ability to ask for what he needed 
was the most erotic thing she could ever remember hearing or seeing.  
His erection was strong and weighty under her hands again, she could 
see the hard need in him, dying to get out.  Scully covered the head 
of his cock with her tongue, then slipped it into her mouth, 
massaging with quick sharp movements.  She worked his flesh deeply 
with her mouth as she began to stroke him with her lips and tongue, 
pressuring hard on the upsweep, repeating the movements over and 
over.  "Oh, God, that's good...More."  She lightly tickled his pubic 
hair with her free hand countering the hard deep movement with the 
light tease.  Mulder made a dark thrumming noise from deep in his 
chest with each stroke.  She heard him call out a word that sounded 
like "Yes," but it came out as a long low hiss.

She could feel the tightening of his balls as they drew up against 
his body again, getting ready to release and bring him into 
pleasure.  But she wanted to kiss him as he came, she wanted to see 
him and feel him.  So she slowly withdrew her mouth from his cock, 
wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft tightly and began 
stroking, a smooth transition.

As her firm hand took control of his body, harder and quicker than 
her mouth had been, Mulder opened his mouth and groaned deeply with 
pleasure.  Sully lay beside him as she covered his lips with her own 
and his hand cupped the back of her head to pull her into him, 
thrusting his tongue into her mouth as he thrust his hips into her 
hand.  Suddenly he pulled his mouth from hers, gasping for air, as 
his eyes slammed shut and his head tossed back against the pillow.  
"Oh, God.  God...Ahhhhh..."

He turned his face back to hers and his eyes opened briefly, looking 
at her with glazed craving as he came.  Then he closed them as 
another pleasure contraction took him away and he thrust his hips 
with each pulsing stroke of his orgasm.  She reached over to kiss 
him again, his hot breath and deep moans vibrating their way into 
her mouth.  Scully felt the tremble of his body under her hands as 
she stroked him through to his completion.  As the tremors rolled 
through him, his semen spattered the skin of his belly and chest.  
As the hard spasms eased, he spiraled down and she slowed her hand 
movements, bringing him down delicately back to earth.  His mouth 
under hers became soft, his kiss gentle.

Finally, her hand went still, no longer sliding over the slickened 
flesh and her hard grip relaxed as she felt his cock began to 
soften.  She stroked once more slowly from base to the rounded head 
as Mulder's entire body jerked with hypersensitivity.  He drew away 
from her kiss slowly, taking a cooling breath.  He lay against her, 
his sweaty face so near hers, his breath brushing her face as he 
recovered.  He swallowed and moistened his lips with his tongue and 
his face had that exhausted, depleted look that he sometimes had 
when he returned from a hard run.  When he'd pushed his body to its 
limits.

She let go of his cock and reached to smooth his spiky hair off his 
forehead.  At her touch, he opened his eyes and looked at her before 
closing them again as his lips curved in a gentle smile.  She 
cradled his head against the crook of her neck and his hand came up 
to caress her face before falling back weakly.  She felt him 
nuzzling against her skin as he fell into what appeared to be a 
contented deep languor, his body still and heavy now against her.

She wasn't in the least unhappy about that; in fact, it made her 
smile.  She knew that the harder a man came, the faster he fell 
afterwards.  Her purpose well accomplished and she felt a sweet 
satisfaction in that.  Watching Mulder thrash in unbearable pleasure 
at her touch and hearing the deep-throated sounds he'd made as the 
orgasm ripped though him had been the sexiest thing she'd ever seen 
in her life.  She looked down the length of his splendid body.  So 
alive and so beautiful.

It was no accident that she'd come beautifully their first time 
together last night.  She'd never been able to achieve that her 
first time with anybody before Mulder, it has usually taken a while 
to get comfortable enough to allow herself to take the pleasure too.  
Of course, she thought with amusement, they'd had six years of 
foreplay.  Even for her that was plenty.  God knows, there'd been 
more times than she could count when a simple look from him across 
the desk in the office had made her stick to the chair.

But right now, she was aching with want of release, a burning that 
nagged to be doused.  She longed to send a hand down to take care of 
herself, but the truth was she felt hesitant about that with him so 
nearby.  Certainly not from any sense that it was wrong, she'd 
become well acquainted with her right hand in recent years and she 
came quickly and easily when she stroked herself.  But at those 
times, she was alone; there was no one there to see her, to hear 
her.

No one there to know her.

As a young girl in Catholic school, she'd been amused by the 
seemingly quaint use of the phrase, "to know," when the bible talked 
of sexual relations.  It was only later that she realized how 
accurate that phrase actually was.  It wasn't quaint at all--it was 
the stone truth.

With the men before Mulder, it had become simply easier to do the 
pleasuring than to receive it.  It had made her feel good to make 
someone else feel the ecstasy and she'd quickly learned what was 
needed to deliver that.  However, with one hellish exception that 
she barely remembered because she'd done so well at pretending it 
hadn't happened, she'd pretty much been in a long dry spell for the 
last few years.  But in this case, absence hadn't made the heart 
grow fonder, instead, it only made it insecure and unsure and she 
protected it the only way she knew how--with control.  And in the 
end, it didn't matter if her control was professional, emotional or 
sexual, she feared its loss in front of another.  Even one she 
trusted with her life.  It was one thing to make love to Mulder in 
the protective darkness and another entirely to ask for what she 
needed in bright, open sunlit room where he could see into her eyes, 
into her mind.  Where she couldn't hide and couldn't pretend.

Where he would know her completely.

God, why did she do this to herself, she thought.  Why did she have 
to fucking think the joy out of everything, even Mulder.  The well-
sated man lying against her was uninhibited in his feelings, so open 
and deeply sensual.  So willing to take risks, to let her in, to let 
her take control even in his rare weak moments and in doing so, he 
became more fearless and braver than she was.  He could show her 
much about living that way, if she could bring herself to let him.  

Exasperated with herself, she looked back over at Mulder and as she 
did so, a wave of tenderness for him washed over her.  She reached 
down, picked up one corner of the flannel top sheet and gently wiped 
Mulder's belly dry of its baby batter.  As she did so, she scooped 
one small remaining dollop on her finger.  She lifted it to her lips 
and tasted it.  Tasted him.

"I'm not asleep, Scully," she heard him say.

Oh God.  As she looked up, she saw that Mulder had been watching her 
with dozy eyes.  She felt herself blush and his lips curved into a 
smile at that.  He rolled towards her and his hand skimmed down her 
body.  She felt his fingers quickly slide underneath her panties, 
between her thighs and into the slickness there.  He brought his 
hand back up to his own mouth, running his fingertips over his lips 
as she watched.  Then he leaned in and kissed her, their individual 
flavors mingling on their lips.

Releasing her slowly, he began to kiss his way down the length of 
her body, curling over her.  He delved into her navel with his 
tongue, something she'd never thought of as an erogenous zone.  But 
it was, oh, it was.  He snagged a hold of the panties, sliding them 
down and off, where they were abandoned to the floor.  His hand 
pressed gently at her inner thigh, pushing it apart from the other 
and she felt his rough tongue run over the delicate, tender skin of 
the crease and the sensation caused a tremulous feeling.  As he 
continued to kiss her lower belly, she felt his fingers sliding over 
her, again seeking the hard nub of her clit and then down lower to 
press up inside her.  He lifted his head from where it lay on her 
belly and she knew where he was headed.  And suddenly, the unwelcome 
interference of her mind took her body back from him and she drew 
back slightly.

Mulder felt her tense up, felt her pull away and he stopped what he 
was doing.  "Did I do something wrong?" he asked turning his head to 
look at her.  Although she didn't look at him, she shook her head.  
"I'm sorry, I just wanted--"

"Oh God, Mulder.  It's not you," she blurted out.  "It's me.  You 
didn't do anything wrong."

As he looked up at her, she finally met his eyes for just a second 
and he could see the chagrin there before she turned away on her 
side.  He saw the blush run on her skin and Mulder finally realized 
she was embarrassed by her own reaction, by her pulling away.

He sighed a bit in relief.  God knows, it'd been a while since he'd 
touched anyone and he'd been worried about pleasing her.  Really 
worried.  It was one thing to indulge in pretty conventional sex in 
the dark of the night and another thing entirely to move things 
along to even more intimate pleasures.  So the pressure had been on 
him so to speak.  Especially considering Scully had just almost made 
his ears bleed with her mouth and hands.  And yet here she was 
feeling shy about wanting him to touch her in the same manner, about 
letting him see her let go her tight rein and indulge in pleasure as 
he had.  The extremes in Scully never failed to amaze him, but this 
he could deal with.  Reluctant Scully was someone he'd dealt with 
nearly every day for six years and he knew how to reach her.

He crawled back up her body until he was lying behind her.  But he 
didn't touch her right away.  He just let her have a moment to war 
with herself because he already knew she was kicking herself in the 
ass mentally and it was best just to let her do it.  Finally he 
reached out and trailed his finger along her shoulder, just soothing 
it back and forth as he let the silence build a moment before 
leaning in to whisper in her ear.

"So, are you afraid I'm going to make fun of your scrunchy orgasm 
face, Scully?"

In spite of herself, she smiled at his teasing, its warm familiarity 
putting her at ease.  As usual, he knew exactly which button of hers 
to push, she thought.  "No, I'm not afraid that you're going to make 
fun of my scrunchy orgasm face," she answered, then paused a moment.  
"It's just...  it's so hard for me to let go and be myself, even 
when I want to, even when I'm with you.  God, this is 
embarrassing..."  she muttered as she trailed off.

Mulder propped his head on his hand and smoothed the other through 
her hair, his fingers sliding lightly over her scalp.  "I know that 
you trust me, Scully," he said and she nodded without hesitation.  
"And I trust you, so I can tell you it's not like I've had hands-on 
practice with anyone except myself for a hell of a long time.  I 
mean, you just gave me a incredible, take-it-to-my grave 
experience...Did it ever occur to you that after that my confidence 
level at reciprocating isn't what you think?"

Scully was silent as he looked down at her profile but she closed 
her eyes a moment and he could tell from the expression on her face 
that his words struck a cord in her.

"I...I..."  she paused.  "No, Mulder.  I didn't think of that, I'm 
sorry."  She was silent a moment and then he saw her lips finally 
curve again in a wry smile.  "I guess, I just figured you had the 
benefit of watching all those training films over the years."

Mulder grinned at the warm humor in her voice as she came back to 
him.  "Nobody ever has bad sex in a porn movie, Scully.  But believe 
it or not, I do know it's not real, " he said, drawing a small 
chuckle from her.

He moved closer behind her, sliding one arm underneath her to cradle 
her back against his body as his other arm closed around her.  He 
began to nuzzle along her shoulder and neck as he felt her relax 
against back him.  He idly caressed her breast with his hand, 
feeling its soft weight in his hand.  After a moment, he stopped his 
ministrations and rested his chin on her shoulder as he spoke.

"OK, so I guess what we have here is that you're terrified about 
asking for what you need sexually and I'm terrified because pretty 
much all my recent expertise comes from watching strangers fake 
orgasms to bad disco music.  Jesus--no wonder this took six years."

Scully burst out laughing as the stupidity of it all and he joined 
her.  She turned her face to look up at him for the first time.  
"God, we're a mess."

He leaned down to kiss her deeply before drawing back just slightly.  
"Yeah, but we're a mess together, so it's OK, isn't it?"

She touched his face and nodded.  "It's more than OK.  It's perfect-
- who else would have us?"

"Exactly."  Mulder looked down at her and his expression turned more 
serious.  "Scully, I want to make you feel good," he said quietly.  
"I want to show you how I feel.  But I need you to let me...and I 
need you to help me."

Scully kissed him again.  "Don't ever think I don't want you."

He began to stroke the length of her body again as he moved in even 
closer against her, pressing his chest to her back.  He felt her 
settle in fully against him as he brought his knee up between her 
legs, separating her thighs with his own.  His fingers reached down 
to brush against her pubic hair again.  "Take my hand, Scully," he 
requested calmly in her ear, his breath tingling through her and she 
placed her hand over his.  "Show me," he asked as he sucked gently 
on her earlobe, kissed and nuzzled against her neck.  She arched her 
neck so that she could better enjoy what he was doing with that 
mouth of his.  Then she took his hand and moved it down between her 
legs, settling his fingers in the right place against her body.

Mulder flicked his finger and Scully's body moved in response.  
"There?"  She nodded.  "How?" he asked, and after a moment's 
hesitation, she guided his fingers in a small circular motion.  She 
was actually too wet.  Using her own fingers she wiped away some of 
the slickness so that friction of his touch was rougher.  His 
fingers again touched the place she'd showed him and moved in the 
motion and rhythm.  He looked down at her face, at her eyes tightly 
shut, her lips parted and he could see her concentration focused on 
the rising feeling in her body.  "What does it feel like, Scully?"

She could barely hear him through the heat flash rising in her, but 
she tried to tell him what he asked for.  "Delicious...intense..."  
.She moistened her lips.  "More..."  she asked.  

He upped her pleasure, moving in the harder motion she asked for.  
His other hand pressed against her lower belly, holding her to him 
as she writhed over the thigh between her legs.  He felt her press 
against his hand and he increased the motion, sharper, and more 
firmness, climbing the ladder.  Then as he watched, Scully gave a 
sharp exclaim and her head tossed back against his shoulder, her 
lips parted.  He felt her entire body contract, once, twice, three 
times as her legs squeezed against his thigh.  "Oh, God," she 
whispered, drawing in a deep breath.  Then she slowly lost her 
rigidity, relaxing back against his arms.  Mulder stroked back her 
hair and lay kisses on her damp cheek as she recovered.  She took 
his hand and brought it up to her lips, kissing the back of it 
softly before holding it against her breasts.

He smiled at the gesture.  It'd been good for her and he felt elated 
about that; last night wasn't a fluke.  He gave a small laugh--they 
were going to be very, very good at this.  "Hey, Scully?"

"Hmmmm?"

"Your scrunchy orgasm face is beautiful."

She smiled contentedly.  "So is yours, Mulder."

"Oh really?"

"Really."  Her voice was sleepy sounding belying the idea that it 
was only men who fell asleep afterwards.  "The most perfect thing 
I've ever seen...Better than roses."

Mulder laughed with embarrassed enjoyment at the absurd comparison 
as she fell asleep in his arms.  But the truth was, she'd never said 
anything nicer to him and he'd remember it forever.  


 
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

It was very late afternoon when Scully woke up having finally caught 
up on some much needed sleep.  She'd only had about five hours total 
over the last few days.  Mulder was again gone from her bed.  Their 
bed, she corrected mentally.  But from the open doorway to the hall, 
she heard the sound of the TV downstairs and the unmistakable sound 
of a football game being played.  That's right, it was still 
Christmas day, she'd almost forgotten.  Of course, there would be 
holiday games on.

She got out of bed and dressed.  As she did so, she looked out over 
the fields behind the house.  Some clouds had rolled in and the sun 
was almost down anyway.  A winter wind had kicked up and it was 
blowing the trees about quite a bit; it looked like it might rain 
later.  She wouldn't mind that, she loved the rain when she wasn't 
out in it running for her life through the mud.  It was much more 
preferable to sit inside with a hot drink and watch it come down.  
Safe, warm, and secure with Mulder.

With Mulder, she thought again, and words made her smile.  How many 
days and nights had she spent with him in some cheesy motel watching 
the rain come down, and with always the same secure feelings?  She'd 
come to him in a rainstorm on that first case together when fear had 
made her chuck off her clothes in front of a man she barely knew and 
yet had somehow trusted that he would help her.  And he'd never made 
her feel small about that moment or any moment since.

But even so, she'd done her best to grind down that girl who'd 
showed her emotions or need so freely.  But Mulder had never let her 
kill her completely; in fact, he'd saved that girl more often than 
he would ever know.  It was as though he'd seen a glimpse of her on 
that first night and knew she always lurked below her other 
carefully controlled surface.  He knew she was there.

Mulder knew her.  And her acceptance of that finally left a 
peacefulness she'd not known before.  A Christmas gift to herself, 
if you will.

A delicious aroma now slowly wafted up the stairs.  He was cooking 
something and her mouth watered as she realized she hadn't eaten 
since last night.  She headed down the stairs and into the kitchen.  
Hearing her enter, he turned and gave her that slightly shy smile of 
his.  She understood the emotion; they were still getting used to 
this intimacy.  Not just the sex, but the feeling of being 
unconstrained with each other.

She came to stand next to him at the stove and he bent to kiss her 
lightly.  "I'm making breakfast for dinner," he said.  "Ham and eggs 
with hash browns.  Is that OK?"

"It's perfect and I'm starving."

"Me too.  Scrambled OK?  I pretty much suck at anything else and I 
know you usually like it over-easy."

It was on the tip of her tongue to make a lascivious double-entendre 
joke about preferring it over-hard, but she refrained.  However, he 
saw the high spirits in her eyes, got the silent joke and smiled 
conspiratorially.

"Scrambled is fine, Mulder.  Can I help?"

"Yeah, the toast needs to be done.  Which wine goes with ham and 
eggs?"

She loaded the toaster up.  "I don't know, Mulder, but my guess 
would be white, but I can call Martha Stewart if you want an 
authority."

"Nah, I trust you, Scully."

Of course, they still didn't have a corkscrew, but he repeated the 
same procedure from the previous night, with much better success 
this time.  When the meal was ready, they skipped eating in the 
breakfast nook and headed back to the living room where they sat 
with their feet on the coffee table and watched the game.  Mulder 
felt the need to feed her his toast with his fingers and she enjoyed 
licking the bits of warm butter and sweet jelly from his fingers.

Food had rarely tasted so good.

After dinner, they decided to go for a walk down the road a bit.  
Mulder loaned her one of his heavier sweaters and laughed when it 
fell to ridiculous lengths on her.  They were companionably quiet 
together as they walked, just enjoying the crisp chill of the night.  
He reached out and took her hand as they looked at the stars.  And 
they didn't talk of extraterrestrials.

As Scully suspected earlier, a dense cloud cover started to form 
over and they made it home just as it started to rain very lightly.  
Before going in, they went around back to see if there was some 
firewood stockpiled behind the garage.  Mulder carried it in and set 
to work building a fire that was soon crackling with warmth.  As he 
worked, she took his coat and hung it up in the front closet.  But 
the heavy thing kept sliding irritatingly off the old wooden hanger 
and down the closet floor.  She bent down to get it and as she did 
so, she saw the canisters of film sitting in an open box on the 
floor of the closet.  Curious, she picked one of them up.  The hand-
lettered label was faded and hard to make out, it looked like it 
said, "4th of July."

"Mulder?" she called.

He came back into the hallway to see her crouched down, halfway in 
the closet.  "What are you doing?" he asked.

"What are these?"

He looked over her shoulder at what was in her hand.  "They're just 
what they look like, Scully, old eight-millimeter home movies."

"Can we watch them?"

He stared down at her incredulously.  "Let me get this right--you 
actually *want* to watch someone else's home movies?  Don't you know 
that's considered an alternative to capital punishment in some 
states?"

"Well hell, I've already seen my share of dead, rotting, 
exsanguinated cows in your slide shows over the years; how much 
worse could this be?"  Scully tugged the box out of the closet.

"This is the Mulder clan, Scully.  Trust me, it could get pretty 
strange.  Are you sure about this?"

"No, I want to see them.  Really."  Suddenly, she thought the better 
of it and looked up at him.  "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking...of 
course, we don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No, no, it doesn't bother me."  He smiled a little at her concern.  
"But I am beginning to think you're a little weird."

"Of course, I'm weird--or have you failed to notice that I cut up 
bodies for a living?"  She stood up, dusting her hands off as he 
chuckled.  "Of course, this is all a moot point if you don't have a 
projector.  I don't see one in here."

"We had one.  Unless Mom took it with her, it's probably out in the 
garage."

They headed out into the garage and after several minutes of shoving 
around dusty boxes, they found the projector on a back shelf, still 
in its case.  They carried it back inside and decided that the white 
wall above the fireplace would work just fine as a screen since the 
couch faced it.  Mulder unpacked the ancient projector and set it up 
on a table behind the couch.  He stared at it a moment before 
turning to her.  "I suppose you're going to expect me to know how to 
thread this thing?"

"We can call The Lone Gunmen if you need help.  I'm sure Frohike had 
a lot of experience with projectors before the advent of video 
tape."

She giggled a little at her own joke and he looked up at the unusual 
sound, it made him smile.  "Wow--you're in a mood tonight, Scully.  
I'm going to have to watch your wine consumption."

Scully just squinted at him in reply.  Mulder found a spare bulb in 
the little storage area of the case and inserted it in the housing, 
then set to work loading the first reel on, threading it carefully 
through the machine.  She watched him work, admiring his hands.  She 
loved Mulder's hands, she always had.  Almost as much as the sound 
of his voice, which had been the first thing she fell in love with.  
She was feeling absurdly grateful to be able to just sit here and 
observe him as much as she wanted.  Thank God for Frohike, she 
thought suddenly.  And that reminded her of something she'd meant to 
say to him.  "Mulder, did I tell you that Frohike is the reason I 
came here?"

He stopped what he was doing and looked over at her.  "How so?"

"When I was stuck at the airport, I called around trying to find 
you.  He answered your phone at your apartment and told me where you 
were.  He's the one who suggested I come up here."

"He did?"

She nodded.  "He told me that he was sure you wouldn't mind.  I 
don't know if I would have had the courage to come up here if he 
hadn't.  Oh, and by the way, he said to tell you that he is feeding 
your fish and he's not going to just replace the dead ones like last 
time."

He smiled a little.  "I'll have to remember to thank him."

"For me or for the fish?"

"For you, Scully.  I can always buy new fish."

She smiled at his reassurance.  "He's a good friend to you, Mulder.  
He once told me you were redwood among mere sprouts."

He looked up again, clearly surprised.  "Frohike said that?"

"Yes.  Of course, he thought you were dead."

He laughed at the qualifier.  "I guess I'm going to have to take 
back some of the crummy things I've said about him.  Ok, I think 
I've got this ready.  You sure you want to do this, Scully?  Last 
chance."

"Let her go, Mulder."

He started the projector and then climbed back over the back of the 
couch and settled back against Scully as she held him.  She pulled 
the blanket down off the back of the couch and tucked it over them, 
reached over and turned out the light as they focused on the 
flickering images on the wall.

Over the next several hours, Scully watched, in no particular order, 
movies of babies coming home with beaming mothers and proud fathers, 
first days at school and visits to the beach.  She saw Indian Guides 
and Girl Scout meetings.  She saw Christmases, birthday parties, and 
family picnics as they worked their way through the rolls and Mulder 
became adept at changing the reels in about thirty seconds.

His narration was also typically droll and their laughter got out of 
control on occasion.  Of course, the bottle of wine they finished 
off helped that.  As they watched, she noticed that there were many 
more reels from the time before Samantha was taken, and only a few 
in the years after.  It was as though documenting the family events 
had taken on considerably less importance.  But even so, in one of 
the later reels, obviously on his way to a homecoming dance, there 
stood a shaggy-haired Mulder wearing one of the typically awful 
polyester tuxedos from the late seventies.  She opened her mouth...

"Don't say a word, Scully," he warned, glancing at her over his 
shoulder.  "Not one word or I'm shutting this off.  "

Scully bit her lip and nodded meekly, although he could hear the 
barely suppressed snicker under her breath.  With the next reel they 
went back in time again, to what appeared to be a summer barbecue in 
the back yard with lots of adults and kids running about while his 
mother played hostess.  Her hair hadn't been gray then; it was light 
brown like her son's.  And as she laughed at something one of the 
guests said to her, Scully realized she'd never seen Mulder's mother 
smile.  She was actually a beautiful woman.  He pointed out his 
grandparents, both deceased now.  He also pointed out his mother's 
sister and some assorted cousins.  At one point, Mulder sat up a 
little straighter.  "Shit."

"What Mulder?"

"That's Kurtzweil.  In the background there, standing with my 
father."

"The Doctor you met last summer?  The one who told you about the 
bees?"  Scully looked the image of the tall man, beer in hand, 
talking to Bill Mulder.  Everything seemed friendly and at one 
point, Kurtzweil even laughed at something Bill Mulder said.

"Yeah, I saw his picture in an old family photo album.  I didn't 
realize he was in this too."  Mulder stared at the flickering image 
then slowly relaxed back against Scully as he shook his head 
slightly.  "I was surrounded by it, even as a child...I just didn't 
know."

She stroked his hair and said nothing for there was nothing to say.  
But as she looked down at his face, his mood didn't seem changed.  
In fact, he seemed to be enjoying the memories that he hadn't looked 
at in years and he laughed affectionately at something Samantha did 
as she played with another child at the picnic.  The next images 
showed a little league baseball game.  "Oh God, I remember this," he 
said excitedly as he pointed at the screen.  "Watch this, Scully!"

She focused on the tall, slender boy who stepped up the plate, 
gripping the bat tightly.  Strike one, strike two and then the boy 
proceeded to hit the ball clear over the center field fence.  He ran 
the bases and came back to the plate to the cheers of his teammates.  
The boy turned towards the camera and grinned broadly for his father 
who photographed the moment.  Young.  Beautiful.  Truly innocent.  
For probably one of the last times in his life.  Scully looked at 
the boy on the screen and then down at the man in her arms, as she 
smiled proudly at him.  "You were the hero."

He gave a small self-effacing chuckle.  "Well, on that day anyway.  
I can still remember the crack of the bat in my hands, I knew it was 
long gone."

The next image flickering on the screen showed a different day and 
very young Samantha dressed up as a fairy princess.  Tormenting her 
mercilessly behind their mother's back was her older brother who was 
wearing...Scully leaned forward slightly.

"Mulder...are you wearing Vulcan ears?"

"Of course, all the cool kids had them.  Didn't you?"

"No, I guess I wasn't a cool kid.  So you were a Star Trek fan?"

"Oh yeah, big time.  I also liked the Outer Limits, The Magician, 
The Man from Uncle, and The Avengers.  But Mr.  Spock was The Man.  
I watched the re-runs all the time."

"So let me get this straight.  As a kid you identified with the man 
of science, a man who suppressed his emotions and was ruled 
completely by logic?"  She touched his hand where it lay over his 
belly, teasing his fingers with hers.

Mulder laughed as he toyed with her fingers and she moved hers with 
his in a playful dance.  "I identified with Spock because he was 
always an outsider," he answered.  "Never fully human, never fully 
Vulcan.  Never quite at home."

Scully squeezed his fingers briefly before letting them go.  "You 
felt that way?  Even before what happened to Samantha?"

"No, not as much, but I've always felt a little off-kilter.  I think 
trying to understand that is what led me to study psychology."

"What conclusion did you come to?"

"That I'm actually no different than anyone else and that everyone 
in the world is fucked up in their own way."

Scully laughed as she hugged him to her, kissing his ear and temple.  
"Ok, so who did you like better, Kirk or Picard?" she asked.

"Oh, Kirk.  Definitely Kirk."

"Why?  Because he got all the green alien babes?"

"Exactly.  I may have felt out of step, but I wasn't crazy.  Green 
alien babes look pretty damn good when you're fourteen."

"God, that reminds me.  You didn't tell me your first time story."

"You sure you want to hear it now?  It's late and it's a long story.  
A really long story."

"I'm not going anywhere.  You have a captive audience."  She reached 
up behind them and turned off the projector and now the only light 
in the room came from the fireplace.  She refilled each of their 
glasses with the remainder of the wine and Mulder settled back 
against her as her arms came around him.

"You make a good pillow, Scully."

"Thank you."

"OK, when I was sixteen years old, I got a summer job working with 
my friend Robert for his father's construction business, which 
pretty much meant that we did all the shit work the regular crew 
didn't want to do.  We were renovating a small house near the beach.  
One day, it had to be over a hundred degrees and we were unloading 
pallets of bricks from a truck without the benefit of a forklift.  
We were dying in the heat.  The woman who was renting the house next 
door must have seen us on the brink of sun stoke because she came 
over with glasses of ice tea and cold wet towels. 

"God, she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen up until then 
and I fell hard right there.  I saw her every day for the next month 
and it all turned into the classic infatuation with an older woman.  
And when we weren't working on the house,  I found all sorts of 
excuses to stop by; I was always offering to help her with something 
around her place.  Hell, I even helped her carry her groceries home 
once.  She must have known I had a crush on her.  I followed her 
around all summer like a damn puppy.  But you know what?  She never 
embarrassed me over it.  You know how it was at sixteen, Scully--
adults who know you still treat you like a kid.  But she made me 
feel like an equal, like what I said mattered or was interesting.  
She listened to me, she laughed at my jokes, she never once made me 
feel like a geek, although that's probably exactly how I was 
acting."

Mulder laughed a little and so did Scully.  But when he spoke again 
his voice was softer with memory.  "I would stop by in the early 
evenings and we'd sit on her porch, watch the sunset, drink iced tea 
and talk about a million different things.  She'd been a navy brat 
like you and she'd lived all over the world growing up.  One day, 
she showed me a picture of her husband--She was married, or at least 
she considered herself married.  She'd married him when she was 
seventeen.  He was in the Special Forces in the military, but in 
1973, he'd been reported missing in action.  But she'd never been 
able to find out what he was doing when he went missing.  It was all 
classified.  But she believed that he'd been captured during a 
reconnaissance mission of some sort and that he was being held as a 
POW.  There were over fifteen hundred men still unaccounted for when 
the U.S.  left Vietnam and she was working with other military wives 
who had information that some of these men were still held captive 
in Southeast Asia.  And even as I was dying inside to find out that 
she was married, I felt outraged at her treatment.  I admired her 
refusal to give up on him until she had an answer.  The odds weren't 
on her side, but her resolve was amazing.  Her love for him was 
amazing."

"It was almost the end of summer when I came by her house at the 
usual time.  I saw that most of the lights were off, but the porch 
door was open.  I heard music on the radio somewhere but I didn't 
see her so I called her name from the door.  After a moment, she 
came out from the kitchen.  Even in the low light, I could see 
something was wrong.  She seemed so strangely calm and I felt 
something thick in the air, a tension.  I didn't know what it was 
back then.  She told me to come in and sit down and she went back to 
the kitchen.  As I sat on the couch, I saw an opened telegram on the 
coffee table.  It wasn't my business and I had no right, but I 
picked it up and read it.  It was from the military.  They'd found 
and identified her husband's remains.  They were being shipped 
home."

Mulder fell silent a few moments.  "They'd killed her hope, Scully," 
he finally said regretfully.  "She'd hung on to it for years and 
with two sentences they took it all away from her.  He wasn't in a 
prison camp and he wasn't coming home to her alive.  I remember just 
staring at that telegram for a long time, knowing how the words must 
have hurt her as she read them.  I stood up to leave, I knew I was 
intruding.  Just then she came back into the living room and I 
looked at her as she set the drink on the table, trying to carry on 
like it was any other evening.  When I looked at her face, I saw 
that she'd obviously cried herself out in the hours before I got 
there and now she just looked hollow.  She saw the telegram in my 
hand and she simply took it from me and folded it carefully back 
into its envelope on the table then looked up at me."

"I didn't know what to say, this was beyond my experience.  I just 
put my arms around her, she laid her head on my shoulder, and I just 
held her.  And that was the first time that I really realized that I 
was taller than she was.  She'd always been so strong, so confident, 
that she'd seemed bigger....I guess I'd idealized her because she 
was older.  But in reality, she was just twenty-five.  That seems so 
young now, but back then it seemed such a difference.  But she was 
just twenty-five and her heart was broken.  And she suddenly felt so 
small and so vulnerable as I held her."

"After a moment she looked up at me and I saw that she needed me.  I 
don't mean sexually, I mean she needed me to make her feel strong 
again, make her feel that she wasn't alone.  I didn't know what to 
say to make her feel that way, so I took her face in my hands and 
kissed her, and she kissed me back so softly.  It wasn't my first 
kiss, but it was the first one that went straight into my heart.  
Then she took my hand and led me back to her little bedroom where I 
made love for the first time.  And for the first time, I felt like a 
man.  Not because I was having sex but because she needed me."

"She sent me on home a few hours later.  When I came back the next 
evening, the little house was closed up.  I expected that I think.  
I'd always known she was going to leave when the summer was over.  
But she left me a note pinned to the front door.  She'd told me 
she'd left the island that morning.  There were still other families 
who needed their answers and she had a responsibility to them.  
She...she thanked me for taking care of her that night, and told me 
that I'd been important to her that summer and that she'd always 
remember me."

Mulder's voice trailed off as he fell silent again and Scully knew 
his thoughts had wandered back twenty years to another woman who'd 
held him in her arms.  She threaded her fingers through his hair, 
then caressed his face and she felt him rub his cheek into her hand, 
his reverie broken by her touch.  She pulled the blanket up a little 
closer around them and he nestled in a little closer, as his 
breathing fell slow.  She could tell he was on the verge of sleep, 
but she wanted to know one more thing before he went under.  "What 
was her name, Mulder?" she asked.

"Her name was Amy," he answered quietly.

She smiled gently as she thought of the bittersweet story, feeling 
strangely grateful to Amy for treating Mulder's young heart so 
tenderly and that she'd understood his value.  She'd given him 
something he'd needed too, although she probably hadn't realized it 
at the time.  Scully kissed the top of his head, as he yawned, 
causing a responsive yawn in her.  But then he spoke quietly.  "You 
know...I've never told anyone that story, Scully."

She understood that.  It wasn't the kind of story that teenaged boys 
wanted to tell each other during that time of adolescence when it 
was more about conquest and bragging rights and so little about 
love.  "I'm glad you told it to me."

"You're the only person I could trust with it."

Savoring those words, Scully closed her eyes too and they feel 
asleep together on the couch.

When Mulder awoke a few hours later, he felt a sense of familiarity 
because he was on the couch.  However, the fact that he was in 
Scully's arms with his head cradled against her breasts was 
certainly something he wasn't accustomed to.  But he could be, he 
thought, oh man, he could be.

He turned over carefully and looked at her long time.  She looked so 
damn beautiful by firelight and he felt such a tender desire for her 
that he needed to touch her, feel her warm skin under his hands.  He 
moved up her body to kiss her awake softly.  Just enjoying the 
languid pleasure of brushing his mouth to hers, teasing lightly.  
After a moment, she responded and he felt her hands slide through 
his hair.  When he drew away, she looked at him with sleepy eyes and 
smiled as she drew him back to her.  Having started this, he was 
content to enjoy her affectionate exploration as he held her.  Her 
breath was warm on his skin and her mouth caressed his.  

Scully moved to kiss his face where she could, his nose, his 
eyebrow, his closed eyes, slowly, gently.  Then she pulled his 
sweatshirt off over his head as the blanket slipped to the floor.  
She ran her hands over the sleek skin of his back, feeling the curve 
of his shoulder blades and the long hollow of his spine under her 
fingers.

He grasped the edge of her sweater, tugged it off her, and lowered 
his face back to her naked breasts.  The curve and pliant weight of 
her breasts felt wonderful.  He nuzzled his nose and face against 
her smooth skin and over her nipple, which hardened in response to 
his touch.  He ran his tongue over the flesh, and then closed his 
mouth over it, sucking deeply and nibbling gently.

Scully closed her eyes as the wet tugging on her flesh washed a warm 
tide over her.  She cradled the back of his head, holding him 
against her as her other hand smoothed over the skin on his 
shoulders.  Mulder lifted his mouth just long enough to look at her 
as he kissed her again, feeling her slide her tongue along his lips, 
gaining entry.  After a moment, he moved back to her other breast, 
sliding one arm under her to hold her against him.  He sat up 
slowly, bringing her with him.  He pulled both the sweats and then 
her panties off and they worked together to get his remaining 
clothes off, separating only moments between kisses and caresses to 
dispose of the fabric obstacles between them.

Mulder sat back against the couch and Scully moved astride him as 
his arms circled her body, guiding her very slowly.  She wrapped her 
arms around shoulders, pressing her face into the curve of his neck 
as he entered her, filling and stretching as she settled down slowly 
upon him.  There was a considerable amount of Mulder to take in and 
the fit pleased them both in different ways.  She began movements 
that were shallow, unrushed, just enjoying his feel within.  "Oh, 
God, you feel so good, Scully," he said in her ear.

She kissed his neck and smiled at him and the simplicity of the 
words.  "You feel good too, Mulder.  All of you."  His hands settled 
on her thighs on either side of his.  He stroked up and down her 
skin, first deeply and then dragging just his fingertips so lightly, 
tickling, as she rocked so very gracefully against him.  Mulder 
flexed his hips slowly up into her as he looked into her eyes, 
enjoying the bliss he saw there.  And together, they moved with 
exquisite care, completely unhurried, just receiving pleasure and 
satisfaction from the feel of the other's body.

Scully took Mulder's face in her hands, watching his expression, as 
she loved him with her body.  His hands moved over her and she felt 
the coil tightening within, ready to break free.  His fingers moved 
between their bodies seeking her center.  "There.  Oh yes, there," 
she told him softly.  His own slight thrusting stopped as he filled 
her completely and held her against him as only his fingers moved, 
increasing the delicate arousal inside her, leading her to the edge 
and then pushing her over it within minutes.  Scully's arriving 
orgasm was a long one.  Not the hardest one she'd ever had, but the 
most emotionally satisfying, the pleasure born of his tenderness and 
devotion, not just of physical release.  She opened her eyes to see 
him watching her come with satisfaction in his eyes.  She needed to 
tell him how she felt about him.  "Mulder, I..."  but he covered her 
mouth with his own before she could say more, kissing her slowly, 
pulling her close in his arms against his chest as he now continued 
his deep and slow movements within her.

It seemed to go on forever, he seemed in no hurry, and she'd never 
felt so completely possessed by another.  Mulder's face turned into 
her neck, his breath hot and moist against her skin.  She cradled 
his head against her, holding him tightly as she felt him now begin 
to increase his movements as she tightened around him as his own 
release commenced.  She heard just a barely audible his low moan and 
he held his breath as he came, low and shuddering.  He was almost 
silent, she could feel him more than hear him, and it was as though 
the intensity drained him of the ability to be vocal.  His hands on 
her back tensed along with the rest of his body and then relaxed 
back.  He finally drew breath again and Scully reached down to turn 
his face up to hers.  Mulder's lips were gently parted and she felt 
his chest rise and fall against her as he breathed.  As he looked up 
at her, his expression was exquisitely euphoric, his hazel eyes 
filled with soft tenderness for her.

God, he was beautiful.  Nothing had ever felt that sweet or that 
satisfying.  She kissed him lovingly and they stayed that way 
together a long time.  She moved slowly off him and stretched back 
down on the long couch as Mulder moved to lie beside her.  He 
reached down and pulled the blanket back up over them as he settled 
in against her, his warm, naked body, pressing along the length of 
hers, their legs tangled together and her head pressed against his 
shoulder.

"This was another good day, Mulder" she said softly.

"Yes, it was," he agreed, his drowsy voice was warm in ear.  "And we 
still have more coming," he murmured just as he fell asleep.

She kissed his chest gently, tasting the slightly salty flavor of 
him.

"Yes, we do."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

They spent the next day back over at his father's house where they 
finished the yard work that had started this whole thing.  They made 
a run to the store for sandwiches and more groceries.  Then they 
spent the afternoon sitting under a tree in an impromptu picnic.  
They talked about little things they'd rarely talked about like 
books and movies and music and politics.  And of course, as they 
returned to the yard work, the argument went on all afternoon over 
whose preferences were the superior ones.  In short, some things 
would never change between them.  Verbal and intellectual foreplay 
was always going to be one of their strongest bonds.  As stimulating 
as the physical play that they also indulged in now.

When they arrived back at Mulder's house, it was dark and cold.  
Scully was an odd combination of tired, sweaty, dirty, freezing, and 
euphoric.  But it had been an excellent day and she planned to have 
an even better evening.  It was all she'd thought about all 
afternoon and she knew he'd spent the day in teasing anticipation 
too.  After she hung up her coat, she turned to him.  "Mulder, I'm 
going to go upstairs and take a bath."

He smiled a little.  "Can I watch?"

"You not only can watch, you can help."

He raised an eyebrow just slightly.  "I've always been kind of a 
shower guy."

"Are you saying you don't want to help me take a bath?"

"No, I'm just wondering if the tub big enough," he teased her.

"I think we can work it out, we're kind of like a jigsaw with 
interlocking pieces you know."  He grinned at her, clearly liking 
her analogy.  "So go get out of those grungy clothes, put on a robe 
and meet me in the master bathroom in a few minutes."

"You want me to wear a robe in the tub?" he asked just to irritate 
her.

He was rewarded when she gave him that look that indicated she'd 
just about reached her Mulder-shit threshold for the day.  But then 
she smiled quite beguilingly at him and said lowly, "No, I want you 
to wear a robe so I can take it off you."

This was going to be interesting.

Ten minutes later he was wearing his ratty old flannel robe from 
high school and watching Scully's ritual of preparing the bath.  
God, she was lighting candles and pouring scented oils and swirling 
bubble soap like a witch's cauldron.  She'd obviously done some 
planning here.  So much for wondering if Scully had ever fantasized 
about him, he thought and that realization went right to his head 
and gut.  Scully was playing, she was being open about what she 
wanted, she'd done a lot of that in the last few days and he smiled 
that she was letting herself just enjoy all this without thinking it 
to death.  "Where did you get this stuff?" he asked.

"I brought some of it for my vacation and the rest when we were in 
the market today."

"I didn't see all this in the cart."

"Of course not, in the check out line you had your head buried in 
that Globe cover story on gigantic Texas Vampire bats."

"It was research, you never know when we might run into RV driving 
vampires again."  She laughed at his joke, and he loved it when he 
could make her laugh.  He watched her finish up her preparations and 
she was finally pleased with the level of candlelight, the 
temperature of the water, the consistency of bubbles and the right 
level of intoxicating aroma.  It was like one of her lab experiments 
he thought in wonder.  "So do you do all this at home?"

"I rarely bathe with naked men at home, Mulder.  Or, on the road for 
that matter."

"Oh good, I was worried there for a moment."

Scully turned back to him and met his eyes and as she looked at him, 
she slowly untied her robe and let it slide from her shoulders and 
suddenly he understood why people went through all this ritual.  The 
scent in the room was clean, sweet, and inviting and she looked just 
fucking beautiful.  The steam from the water had dampened her hair 
and made her face flush.  The candlelight threw wondrous shadows and 
wavering color over the hollows and curves of her body.  God, she 
was little, but she was damn powerful.  She was killing him right 
there.

Scully thought that if she lived to be a hundred years old, she'd 
always remember how Mulder looked at her, the hunger and craving in 
his face.  For her.  Dear God, for her.  He probably thought she was 
seducing him, but the reality was that his responses to her were the 
sexiest thing she'd ever seen herself and she just wanted more.  She 
wanted him to look at her like that forever.  Scully approached him, 
and then reached out to push open his robe a little bit to reveal 
his chest, already burnished from the moisture in the room.  She 
kissed his neck and chest, rubbing against him as she reached to 
untie his robe.  Grasping the edges, she parted it slowly as she 
kissed his chest and then down his belly.  She grasped on to his 
cock and stroked it as she assaulted his navel with her tongue.  A 
few moments later she knelt on the thick throw rug and took him in 
her mouth.  Slowly pleasuring him as he hardened under her tongue.

Mulder felt flush from the heat, the sweat, and the touch of the 
woman before him.  He began to breathe heavily as he passed his 
fingers through her hair.  Her hands reached around to grasp onto 
his ass, cupping the roundness and pulling him to her as she worked 
his body and his erotic desire began to warm his blood.  After a 
moment, she withdrew her mouth from his cock, slowly working her way 
back up his body as she stood slowly.  She reached up to push the 
robe off his shoulders and moved into arms, pressing her body into 
the length of his, just rubbing against him as his arms came around 
to hold her naked body to his.  Finally, she stepped back from him, 
turned, and entered the tub, beckoning him to follow her.

Mulder also stepped into the tub and slowly sank down in the hot 
scented water.  He lay back against the angled back of the deep old 
tub, resting his head on the rim as he looked up at the woman in 
front of him.  She turned around and sat down between his legs that 
he drew up to cradle her as she laid back against his chest.  "See, 
I told you we'd fit, Mulder," she said as she relaxed back against 
him as though in her favorite chair, her sweet ass caressing against 
his cock and balls.

He laughed.  "And you were right, Scully."  The water displaced from 
their bodies splashed over the edge of the tub on to the tile floor, 
pooling over to the large thick rug in the center of the room.  They 
didn't care.

Under the water, he ran his hands over her oil-smoothed skin.  He 
massaged her lower belly and slid his fingers through the curls of 
her pubic hair, fluffing and tugging slightly.  Her head fell back 
against his shoulder as she just luxuriated in his touch, the 
natural feeling of his body pressed against hers and the primal feel 
of the warm water.  His hands covered her breasts and he massaged 
firmly.  She welcomed the pressure and pressed against him.

After a moment, Mulder snagged a hold of the bath puff as it floated 
by.  He rubbed a generous amount of creamy soap on it, working up a 
thick and silky lather.  Reaching around Scully he began to stroke 
the length of her thighs, sliding down and then back, moving 
smoothly under the water.  He paid careful attention to her knee, 
which popped up above the water line, before slipping to the inside 
of her thigh and working the tender skin there.  He switched hands, 
added more soap, and worked on the other leg a while before starting 
on the length of her arms.  He let the puff float away again and 
used both of his hands to wash each of hers.  Building the lather, 
his fingers stroking and twining with hers, he rinsed her left hand 
and placed it back along his thigh.  He took her right hand and 
rinsed it, slowly moving back and forth under the water, sending 
gentle ripples.

He slowly, slowly guided her hand down her belly, moving it to the 
apex of her thighs.  He nudged her fingers into place over her clit.  
He began to move her middle finger slowly over the nub, feeling 
Scully open her thighs even further in response.  He found his way 
inside her with the fingers of his other hand, filling her, 
thrusting in as deep as he could reach from his position.  She felt 
the slow thrumming pressure began to stir within her and she pressed 
back against him, rubbing against his cock with her soft bottom and 
hearing his soft exclamation.

But after a few moments he slowly pulled her hand away and removed 
his fingers, having teased her almost to completion just as she'd 
done him earlier.  The game's ante being uped with each touch from 
the other.  They rested a few moments and then he placed his hand on 
her shoulder and nudged her forward slightly.  She bent forward; 
resting her arms on her knees as Mulder began to slide the puff on 
along her shoulders, moving in small circular motions, working his 
way down the smooth expanse of skin of her back.  With a contented 
sigh, Scully bent even further forward to give him more access to 
her back.

As she did, the tattoo on her lower back came fully into his view 
and Mulder paused a moment.  Truth was, he'd pretty much forgotten 
about it and he'd never really seen it clearly.  He bent to look at 
the thing that had caused so much trouble.  He passed the sponge 
over the design, and then rinsed the lather away as he touched it 
with his fingers, tracing the outline of the Ouroboros symbol.  
There was no getting around it, he thought.  It was ugly.  And it 
reminded him of an ugly time between them, a time he still didn't 
understand because like many things between them, they'd never 
talked about it.

Scully felt his fingers on her back and knew what he was looking at.  
She waited for him to say something but he didn't.  "Do you hate it, 
Mulder?" she finally asked.

"I don't actually hate it, Scully," he answered honestly.  "I just 
don't understand it.  What about this appealed to you?  Why this 
design?"

He looked over her shoulder at her profile and she was a long time 
answering, he felt her go slightly tense under his fingers before 
she finally answered.  "At the time, it seemed an appropriate symbol 
of my life."

Mulder knew that he could, and probably should, let it got at this 
point, but his ever-present need to understand the unknown pushed 
him forward.  "How so?" he asked as he moved his arms around her and 
brought her back to lay against his chest again.

"If the serpent continues to swallow its tail, it will eventually 
reduce itself to a single point and vanish from the universe 
entirely.  And if it doesn't, it's just an endless circle going 
nowhere.  Maybe not the traditional interpretation, but it's how I 
felt."

"That sounds so hopeless, Scully.  Why were you feeling that way?   
Because you knew you were getting sick?"

Scully took a deep breath as she shifted in his arms.  God, it was 
very tempting to blame it all on her illness, it would be so easy, 
so convenient.  It was the perfect defense and one he would readily 
accept.  But it would also be a lie and she'd lied enough, both to 
Mulder and to herself, during that period to last a lifetime.  
They'd never talked about this and they needed to.  Especially now 
that she had the benefit of hindsight, when the feelings that had 
once seemed so cluttered in her mind, now seemed so obvious.  She 
shook her head in response to his questions.

"I wasn't even really thinking about what Leonard Betts had said to 
me.  I didn't have any symptoms except a nosebleed, which I didn't 
pay much attention to.  No, I felt that way because I was angry.  
Because I was pinning for things I thought I was missing.  Things I 
kept telling myself I didn't need."

"What were you missing?"

"I was missing feeling like I mattered in any context beyond the 
work.  I was missing the feeling that you get when you come home 
tired and someone is there for you with gentle voice and dinner on 
the table.  I was missing someone even giving a damn if I even did 
come home.  And I was missing physical contact too.  Shit, Mulder, I 
was missing sex, I was missing being held or touched or kissed.  I 
was missing feeling alive.  I was missing...  this," she moved her 
hand along the surface of the bubbly water.  "And you and the X-
files were very convenient."

"Convenient?"

"Convenient to blame.  Convenient to make responsible for what I 
didn't have instead of making myself responsible."  Scully gave a 
deep sigh.  "So by the time I got to Philadelphia and met Ed Jerse, 
this symbol just seemed exactly where I was at that point and I went 
looking for what I was missing."

Mulder didn't respond right away.  "And you found it with Ed Jerse?" 
he finally asked.

Scully nodded slowly.  "I fooled myself into thinking that a few 
hours...but it wasn't real."

Mulder held her, his hand trailing over her skin in an unconscious 
manner, remembering his confusion about her behavior both before 
she'd left for Philadelphia and after she'd come back.  Her refusal 
to talk to him about whatever was so obviously wrong had made him 
feel that she didn't trust him and he'd tried hard to quell his hurt 
over that.  The truth was that he'd cared far more about the fact 
that she'd opened up emotionally to Ed Jerse than he did about her 
sleeping with him.

As though she heard his thoughts, Scully spoke again.  "It wasn't 
that I didn't trust you.  I couldn't tell you what I was feeling, it 
felt too...personal to me, and that wasn't what our relationship was 
about.  I mean, I certainly couldn't ask you to provide the things I 
was missing.  And you never seemed to miss those things; you seemed 
quite content with your life as it was.  It just seemed embarrassing 
almost, like I was some pathetic loser; like I wasn't as strong as 
you.  I...I was afraid you'd be disappointed in me."

"Jesus, Scully.  How could you think so little of me?  How could you 
think I would judge you so harshly?"  His voice was just a little 
frustrated sounding.

"I didn't think so little of you, Mulder, I thought so little of 
myself.  My whole existence has been about proving myself to the men 
in my life--you're the psychologist, have you failed to notice 
that?"

They both fell quiet a moment, unwilling to escalate this into 
something bigger than it needed to be.

"You don't have to prove anything to me, Scully," he finally said 
mildly.  "Not then and not now."

She sighed.  "I know, Mulder.  On an intellectual level, I know 
that.  But we've both faced times where something seems too much to 
ask of the other.  You know there have been times when you haven't 
asked me for help, when something seemed too personal, or you 
thought I wouldn't understand, or maybe even you were trying to 
protect me.  You know that even offering the choice brings a 
responsibility and a burden to the other."

She felt Mulder's chin rub against the top of her head as she lay 
against him.  His chest rose and fell with a deep silent sigh and 
then she heard him give a rueful laugh at their mutual follies.  
"Our ability to wound each other is almost never ending, isn't it?" 
he said as he kissed her soft on her neck, then moved on to nibble 
on her ear.

"And it's so unnecessary because we're not as strong or as smart 
individually as we are together," she responded as she placed her 
hand over his where it lay on the edge of the tub.  She played with 
his fingers a bit, and he responded, his fingers teasing back, 
lightening the mood.  "But it would appear that we've made some 
progress," she added.  "I mean, we are naked in a warm bath 
together."  She heard Mulder laugh.  "And you did just ask me to go 
with you to Area Fifty-One in Nevada."

"Yeah, that's true--and you went.  Of course, you did sing for me in 
that forest in Florida.  God knows, it was brave of you to trust me 
with that knowledge."  The water sloshed as Scully reached back to 
elbow him slightly as she laughed too.

"Exactly."  Then her voice turned serious again.  "Mulder, all I can 
say about all that at this point is that I'm sorry.  I went looking 
outside to solve my problems when I should have been looking within.  
And then when that all turned to shit, I came home to knowing that 
I'd hurt you."  She felt his hand lift from the water and smooth 
through her hair.  His touch caressing, silently telling her not to 
worry about that.  "And I felt somehow like I'd cheated on you--."  

"Scully, don't."  Mulder interrupted her softly.  "I do understand, 
it's not like I..."  He fell silent and looked away a moment, 
wondering whether to continue this walk down memory lane.  In all 
their time together, he'd never told her about what he went through 
during her abduction.  Their focus had always been on what had 
happened to her during that time.  He'd never really told her about 
what his feelings were and how he'd lived through his own kind of 
hell even as she went through hers.

But then she reached out and touched his arm where it lay along the 
edge of the tub, just stroking gently, urging him to talk.  They'd 
wanted this intimacy, but if they wanted the rewards, they also had 
to take the difficulties of it.  He turned back and wrapped his arms 
around her, pulling her closer back against him and the water 
splashed as she folded her arms over his.  "What is it, Mulder?" she 
asked.

"Scully, when you were taken from me, I went so damn cold inside.  I 
was so frustrated; I missed you by less than five minutes at Skyline 
Mountain.  Five fucking minutes.  You'd slipped out of my grasp and 
I felt like such a complete failure.  And I was angry too, so 
goddamned angry with everyone and everything.  I...I was even pissed 
at you for being gone, for leaving me alone.  As the months dragged 
on, I knew that with each day's passing the chances of finding you 
faded.  And yet somehow, I was expected to work, to carry on with my 
life, keep going on somehow, just box up my feelings, and move on.  
But I don't know how to box up my feelings, Scully.  I never have.  
In some ways, I wish I could."

He stopped speaking a moment, remembering something else, and she 
waited.  "I never told you this, but your mother asked me to help 
her pick out a headstone for you.  I went with her because she asked 
me to, because she was your mother, because she had no one else to 
help her, your brothers and sister weren't there.  But God, Scully, 
I'd never felt so disloyal, so faithless.  Just being in that place 
felt like a betrayal.  I couldn't even look at the thing, and for a 
moment, I hated her.  I hated her for giving up on you and I hated 
her for making me look at the possibility you weren't coming back.  
I hated myself for even being there."

"And all that time you were gone, I had no one.  No one I could talk 
to about what I was feeling.  My entire support system of one was 
gone.  I missed you so much, we'd been partners for only a little 
over a year, and yet I felt your loss as keenly as I had my 
sister's.  It was that close to me.  So for months, I just went back 
and forth between rage and despair and the feeling that I had failed 
you miserably."

Scully laid her hand over the back of his, meshing their fingers and 
holding on to him, her touch signaling her silent rejection his 
self-condemnation.  She felt his cheek rest against the top of her 
head as he accepted her response.  It was a long time before he 
spoke again, his voice low.  "Scully, I was with someone during the 
time you were missing...when Skinner sent me out to California on a 
case."  Mulder paused, waiting for her to say something, but her 
only response was to continue to stroke the back of his hand with 
her thumb.  "It was one night and it wasn't important...she...  
wasn't important.  But I was trying to feel something, anything, 
again.  And somehow, she seemed to understand what your loss was 
doing to me.  I don't know how she knew, but she knew.  And I needed 
some connection to being human.  But I failed in that too.  The only 
thing I succeeded in was feeling even more alone...  and you were 
even more firmly in my head than before.  It was all a mistake, but 
it happened and I can't pretend that it didn't...  But it's also why 
I understand more than you think about Philadelphia and Ed Jerse."

He fell silent, waiting for her reaction.  She turned over slowly 
and then moved up to straddle his body as she settled back into his 
arms.  He reached up to push her wet hair back off her face as she 
looked down at him.  It was a moment or two before she spoke.  "How 
about this, Mulder--why don't we just leave both events behind us 
now?"  He nodded his agreement and she bent towards him to seal 
their bargain with a kiss.

God, he loved to kiss Scully.  The emotion and the heat burned 
through him like a fireball.  Her hands gripped the edge of the tub 
on either side of his head as he felt her begin to rock slowly and 
gently against him.  She rubbed herself over his penis, feeling it 
take harder shape in response.  His hands covered and stroked her 
breasts as she pressed against him.  She kissed his face as she 
thrust slowly against him, sending little waves of water as his 
erection slid through her folds and over her clit.  She began small 
friction rubs, the head of his cock just massaging against her clit.  
She felt Mulder's hands slide into her hair and pull her into him in 
a deep kiss, devouring and hot.

As the intense feeling built, her head fell back at the pleasure and 
her eyes closed at the sensation.  She placed her hands on his chest 
for balance as she moved harder against him.  After a moment, Mulder 
closed his eyes and laid his head back against the tub again for 
support as he scooted down to get leverage to move with her.  He 
grasped on to her hips as she moved, kneading the skin, digging in 
with his fingers to pull her against him.  Scully reached down 
through the water to take his cock in her hand, pressing his hard 
length against her as she moved, using him to pleasure herself and 
her movements giving him satisfaction in return.  As she neared her 
climax, she thrust hard along his length, trying to push herself 
over the edge.

Unfortunately the tidal wave caused by her sudden movement and deep 
thrust rolled towards the back of the tub and into Mulder's face 
just he choose to take a deep breath at the rapturous sensation.  
The hot, soapy water shot both up his nose and down his throat and 
suddenly he was drowning, but just not with pleasure.

Choking and gasping for air, he instinctually tried to sit up, 
tumbling Scully backwards off of his lap in the process which only 
sent another wave to make Mulder's struggle worse.  He clutched the 
sides of the tub as he coughed desperately to clear his lungs of 
water.  His eyes watered as he struggled to bring in air between the 
heaves.

Scully reached for him, "Are you all right?"  But he warded her off, 
sounding like he was hocking up a fur ball.  She sat huddled between 
his feet at the end of the tub watching him with dismayed eyes.  
After a few minutes, Mulder's struggle to get air finally eased and 
he lay back exhausted against the back of the tub with his hand 
covering his face as his coughing spasms became less labored.

"Mulder--" But he put his hand up indicating that he wasn't up to 
talking just yet and so she fell silent.  After another minute of 
recovery, he finally drew his first non-rattling breath.  After a 
moment more, she finally heard another sound.  Mulder was laughing.

"Jesus Christ, Scully" he rasped, his voice rough from the coughing.  
"I think I liked it better when you were more inhibited."  Still 
chucking, he finally opened his eyes and glanced towards her.

She stared back trying, without much success, to keep a contrite 
look on her face.  "God, Mulder, I'm sorry."

"You don't look sorry," he retorted.

"How can I make it up to you?"  Mulder raised his head and as he 
looked at her, he smiled slowly and she smiled back

He reached out his hand towards her and she moved back up his slick 
body into his arms, lying against the length of him.  He kissed her 
hard, as his one hand reached down to cup the curve of her ass, 
pressing her hard against him, rebuilding the erection that had 
diminished under the duress of the previous moment.  She rubbed over 
him, feeling his cock pressing into her lower belly, hard and ready.  
He cupped the back of her head and kissed her, plundering deeply 
with his tongue, his fingers grasping on to her hair as she 
responded to him.  She applied her lips to his face, neck, and chest 
and then back again as she moved against his body, relentlessly and 
possessively as she drove him towards pleasure.

He drew away a moment to look at her flushed face, his own breathing 
hard, his body hard, the play suddenly turning serious and intense.  
"Fuck me, Scully," he asked, his voice still rough.  Scully 
understood what he needed as she pulled his mouth back to hers, she 
needed it too.  She rose to her feet, stepping out of the tub as he 
followed her, the water dripping off their bodies, glittering in the 
candlelight.  He took her in his arms and then down to the floor on 
the soft carpet.  As he moved over her body, she guided him inside, 
sheathing his cock within as he pushed inside her deeply.  She began 
to move up against him, urging him on with her hands on his back and 
ass, pulling at him and he thrust hard and long.  He dug his knees 
into the carpet for leverage as he raised back just slightly so they 
could both watch the movement of their intercourse, the frantic, 
hard penetration and acceptance where their bodies met, then 
separated briefly to meet again as he claimed her body for his own.

Scully loved the sight of their coupling and feeling of taking him 
within her body and she edged closer to the release of tension, 
longing for it.  As their gratification built, he lowered his body 
against her, covering her, moving in hard, complete thrusts, driving 
towards a destination still just out of his reach.  As his body 
consumed her, covered her, enveloped her, she crossed her legs over 
his back to hold him within, keep him as close as possible.  His 
moist skin of his chest brushed over her nipples and breasts as his 
hands gripped her.  He turned his face to hers and kissed her as she 
felt the final hardening of his cock filling her.  She drew from his 
mouth as he looked at her; the desperate need for release so clear 
in his eyes.  "Don't wait, Mulder, don't wait," she said, "I want to 
feel you."

Mulder closed his eyes and within moments drove his release over the 
edge, coming and shaking with the pleasure that ravished his body.  
He drew harsh breath as his muscles jerked with the gratification 
and he cried out with each pulse.  Under her hands, she felt the 
muscles of his back go rigid and then relax back slowly.  His long 
legs stretched out as he slipped his arms under her body to hold on 
to her.  

He didn't want to lose the feeling of her skin on his.  He covered 
her body with his, supporting his weight as best he could with his 
now weakened arms.  He held on to her and the white-hot rush of his 
blood began to course to other parts of his body, returning thought 
and strength.  When Mulder was able to raise his head from the crook 
of her neck, he looked into her eyes and Scully smiled for him.  He 
couldn't ever remember feeling quite this way.  His body felt 
completely at peace, spent, and satisfied.  But his mind felt both 
energized and clear, like he could do anything.

Scully felt him move back slowly, withdrawing from her body.  It 
felt strange not to have him inside, a part of her.  Her own body 
was still waiting for its release, teased now to the point of 
madness.  But Mulder didn't go far.  He held her close as he sat 
back and then rose to his feet, pulling her up with him, their 
bodies still dripping water.  He grabbed the big towel off the rack 
and ran it quickly over his body, his hair popping up into quirky 
spikes as he passed it over his head.  Then he set to work on her, 
running the towel quickly over hair and then roughly down her body, 
over her breasts, and between her legs.  He moved it down over her 
thighs, teasing her skin even further as she moaned slightly and 
hung on to him.  He threw the towel aside as he picked her up in his 
arms to take her the few steps into the bedroom.  Depositing her on 
the warm flannel sheets, he placed her back against the pillows.  
She watched him with confident expectation he settled himself 
between her legs.  With no preliminaries, he lowered his head and 
began a voracious assault on her tiny clit with his mouth and 
tongue, tasting both of their flavors on her skin.

Scully's brain didn't even have time to form a thought before her 
senses took over completely and she just became a creature of all 
feelings.  Intense and hot.  Mulder stroked the very head of her 
clit, which by this time was way too hypersensitive to touch, and it 
caused her entire body to twitch and jerk in a sharp movement that 
was too much, too intense, almost painful.  Too good if possible.  
Gasping, she reached down and gently nudged his head just slightly 
over and suddenly the pleasure flooded though her as he delved in 
with a hard tongue and a deep massage.  His forearm braced her thigh 
wide; his fingers holding her open so his mouth could have full 
access to his target.

He removed his tongue just long enough to suck on her clit, hearing 
her involuntary cry at the sudden new sensation.  Mulder returned to 
his tongue flicking as his hand rested on her lower belly, massaging 
smoothly.  He felt Scully's hand move over his, taking his fingers 
and holding on with an iron grip.  He increased the pressure, upping 
her level of feeling and intensity, when he felt her body go rigid 
as her orgasm gripped her.  She gave another dark cry and her back 
arched as her orgasm unwound through her limbs until she lay back 
exhausted, her breath deep and uneven.  Mulder gave her a few more 
licks and tweaks of his tongue, each one sending a quiver through 
her belly muscles, like a little jolt of electricity.  Slowly he 
settled into soothing laving motion, back and forth, gentling her 
down off her high.  Her death grip on his hand slowly relaxed and 
she now caressed his fingers.  Licking his lips, he raised his head 
and looked up.  Sated was the only word for the woman he saw 
sprawled before him in a decidedly unScully-like manner.  He crawled 
back up the length of her body, bracing one arm on either side of 
her as she caressed his chest and they looked at each other.

"I'm glad you suggested a bath, Scully.  Although, I think I threw 
my back out," he added.

"What are you complaining about, Mulder?  I've been rode hard and 
put away wet--literally.  I'm not going to be able to walk tomorrow 
either."

Mulder burst out laughing and Scully joined him.  They enjoyed the 
moment together, each unable to stop the new roll of laughter each 
time they made eye contact.  "So the doctor suggests plenty of bed 
rest?" he asked with a smile.

She touched his face.  "There might be plenty of bed, but I don't 
think there's going to be much rest."

Scully's hair was drying and it curled in waves about her face.  He 
reached to touch its silkiness, just running his fingers through it.  
Their passionate need satisfied, he now felt a different desire, a 
need to fulfill tactile sensations that weren't sexual, but were 
still as compelling in their own way.  He leaned down, feeling her 
hands move up to hold his face as he sought her kiss.  He reached 
under her to caress her small rounded bottom.  He nudged her over on 
to her stomach as he leaned over her, his hands sliding down the 
length of her arms and intertwining their fingers briefly as he 
moved his hands back to her ass.

She felt his lips nuzzle and then his tongue slide over the line 
where her butt met her thigh.  No one had ever done that before and 
she'd never realized what an erogenous zone that was.  He held her 
hips firmly as his warm mouth and cool breath sent waves of sexual 
chills over her skin.  His hand kneaded the fleshy rounded curve of 
her ass as he moved up over it to place his kiss in the center of 
her tattoo.  He worked his way up her spine and over her shoulder 
blades, relaxing her.  He used his fingertips to graze and tickle, 
feeling her squirm, and then laugh gently at the sensation.  
Indulging in the simple play she'd complained her first encounter 
lacked.

God, she loved this, she thought.  She loved his hands on her body, 
touching her so freely, so openly.  But mostly she loved the fact 
that it was giving pleasure to Mulder.  She loved the idea that 
touching her body was something he needed to do.  He covered her 
body with his, supporting his own weight and yet softly pressing the 
length of his lean body down on to her in what was basically a full 
body massage.  It felt so completely right and her need for him and 
to experience his touch was so deep it almost invoked tears.  She 
could hardly wait to touch him in a similar manner.

Scully felt his hands slide over her back as he kissed the round of 
her shoulder, nuzzling his cheek against the skin.  Slowly he worked 
his way to her neck, pausing to lick the tiny hickey he'd applied 
before as Scully arched her neck to the side to give him full 
access.  She made a low throaty laugh at the slight tickling 
sensation, the warm moist feel of his mouth and his hands smoothing 
her skin, making her feel so completely alive.  She felt his fingers 
slide up into her hair to brush it aside so that he could continue 
his ministrations to the nape of her neck.  The feel of his fingers 
brushing though her hair and the back of her head sent nice 
delicious feelings coursing in her veins.  When he'd cleared a path, 
he bent to kiss the skin just behind her ear, then moving to gently 
suck and nip at her earlobe; his breath sending shivers as it 
reached her ears.  He continued his soothing pampering indulgence 
working his way to the back of her neck, when she heard a quiet 
intake of breath and the withdrawal of his mouth from her skin.

She realized that in his travels Mulder had run across that tiny, 
hard, circular lump that now resided just under the skin, not as 
deeply implanted as it'd been before.  That chip that did only God 
knows what for God knows how long.  A hated intruder and yet one 
which she was also certain that she could not live without.  Mulder 
had brought her the chip, and trusting him, she'd allowed that thing 
to be replanted.  He believed that it had saved her life, but she 
knew that it'd merely been the instrument.  Mulder had saved her; 
He'd been the one who'd danced with the devil to buy her more time.  
But just how much time was a question they didn't ask.

And for someone who valued her control as much as she did, one of 
the hardest realities she'd ever faced was the fact that this thing 
controlled her.  Completely.

She'd learned to live in peaceful co-existence with the chip because 
she had no other choice.  And in truth, it was actually easy for her 
to forget for long periods of time that it was even there.  There 
were days, even weeks that went by when she didn't think about it at 
all.  She couldn't see it in the mirror unless she was specifically 
looking for it, which of course, she never did.  When showering, 
soap and a thick body scrub puff made sure that she never actually 
touched it.  The only time it ever really came to her attention was 
when she unconsciously rubbed her neck when she was tired.  And 
then, even after all this time, it was always a surprise to find it 
there.

But right now, it had pushed its tiny, intrusive, unwelcome way 
between them, trespassing on their moment.  She started to say 
something to him, to reassure him in someway, to divert him.  But as 
she opened her mouth, she felt just the tips of his fingers graze 
the little bump, feeling its contour in a soothing circular motion.  
His fingers left and the warm brush of his breath followed his touch 
as he bent to tenderly kiss the tiny scar, bestowing his mark of 
acceptance of its constant presence, its necessity.  And his arms 
tightene