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If Only You Believe


 NC17 <g>
Category: MSR, post ep
Spoilers:  SUZ/Closure, Chimera, En ami, all things
Rating:  NC17 (sex lovingly described)
Disclaimer:  no copyright infringement intended.


He chalked their first time up to a medical emergency.  

Not the most romantic way to look back on the first time Dana Scully had allowed him the comfort of her body.  But in retrospect, he had just lost his mother and was careening rapidly into a full-blown nervous breakdown.  Scully had watched him while he ranted and raved, given him space as he came near to toppling his desk with everything on it.  Then she had let him collapse on himself only to take him in her arms and hold him while he cried.  

He hadn't expected anything from her.  He hadn't expected her warm lips on his forehead, although by that time in their partnership he should have realized that was coming.  He hadn't expected her to respond when moments later he turned his face upward and cover her lips with his mouth.  Her lips were soft, but firm, pliant but alive.  He devoured her lips and was knocked almost breathless when she rejoined his efforts with her own, her tongue plunging into his mouth, brushing the underside of his teeth, and sucking his own tongue deep into her mouth.  

He didn't have time to understand it when he grew instantly hard and took her shoulders, lying her down on the battered sofa which smelled of years of spilled beer and sweat and the faint aroma of his own semen.  He didn't have time to comprehend what was happening as he tugged at her blouse and she attacked the button and zipper at his fly.  He didn't have time to process what was happening as he felt her skin on his, as he heard her grunt as he entered her, one of his feet on the floor, his other leg dangling over the armrest of the couch. 

He certainly lost consciousness not long after his orgasm, because all he could remember was coming to and finding a blanket tucked around his damp body and his clothes folded neatly on the chair by his desk.  He remembered feeling drugged, like he'd been given a sedative or maybe he had just a hang over.  

Then she appeared in the doorway, a cup of coffee steaming in her hands.  "Do you want to take a shower, or just go to bed for a while?" she asked, as if it were every day that they made love -- no, had sex -- on his sofa after he'd melted down into a puddle of grief. 

He had been sure it was a dream, until he stepped into the shower.  The water hitting his back caused a sting and he felt but could not see the scratches her nails had left in the throes of their passion.  It was all he really had for evidence.  That and the lethargic feeling that came after sexual release.  

When he dressed and went back out, Skinner was at the door.  Amber Lynn's mother had asked him to return to California.  

No more was said of that night.  Scully made sure to keep herself at arms length, even going so far as to check into a room in a different wing of the motel where they stayed.  

That was when he decided it had been strictly medicinal.  She hadn't had any tranquilizer to give him, so she did the next best thing.  Give a man an orgasm and put him right to sleep.  It had worked like a charm. 

The second time they were together seemed to have something to do with testosterone, but he wasn't sure if it was completely his alone.  After coming out of FPS alive, barely, Scully had driven him back to their hotel, claiming that he had a head injury and couldn't be trusted behind the wheel.  He was flying pretty high, riding a wave of pure adrenaline.  

The whole experience, after he realized he probably wasn't going to die, had been like a ringside seat at an all female mud-wrestling tournament.  Scully showed the cyber-bitch absolutely no mercy in the game and Mulder had been in awe of his partner as she blasted the holy crap out of so many gigs and terabytes of software.  He'd never been so happy to have someone on his side in his life.  He was also just a little afraid of her. 

When they got to his hotel room, one connected to hers, she had ordered him to sit down while she scurried about gathering medical supplies.  She washed the cut above his eye, dutifully checked his pupils for dilation, ran her hands over his tee-shirted torso to ensure no broken or cracked ribs. 

And quite before the synapses of his brain caught up with the messages sent by the nerve endings of his lower body, his pants were around his ankles and his partner's sweet mouth was sucking the dear life out of his cock.  No warning, no foreplay.  He honestly could not remember her even coming close to his belt buckle.  Magic.  It was pure magic.  

He watched through slit lids as her silky auburn hair bounced between his legs.  He finally threw his head back, wanting to look, but unable, feeling his balls tighten to a point where he was certain they would go nova and create a black hole.  Then he came.  And came.  And came some more.  And she kept her mouth right on him, sucking down his seed and then daintily wiping her lips with her index finger and thumb when she finally released him.  He bruised his hip when he fell off the chair.   

He wanted to talk to her about it, but she patted his cheek, told him she would check on him during the night and then left by way of the connecting room door. 

The third time it happened, Mulder was almost positive it was an apology, of sorts.  He was still furious with her as the boys nervously searched the disk she'd retrieved from her trip with the Smoking Man for any data.  He glowered at her as Frohike ushered Byers and Langly out the door when their every attempt proved futile.  

"Was it worth it, Scully?" he growled.  She was sitting on the sofa, the same sofa where they'd had sex the first time.  She held the disk in her hands as if running her finger over the surface would produce a sound, an answer. 

"Mulder, I tried to contact you," she whispered. 

"No!  No you did not!  You called Skinner.  You knew I wanted to talk to you and you made damn sure I didn't get a chance," he spat out, almost choking on the words. 

"I wanted . . . I wanted to let you know I was OK," she countered, her voice cracking.  "I knew . . . " 

"You knew what, Scully?  That is was dangerous, going with him.  That I would be worried sick that you'd been taken for god knows what?  That maybe instead of sending a Duane Barry they just pulled up in a nice car and opened the door and you walked right into the trap?  Because that's what I thought, Scully!  That is sure as hell what I thought!" 

She rose and stood in front of him as he effectively blocked the doorway.  Resting one hand on his chest, she looked up into his eyes.  "I'm sorry.  I'm sorry you were worried." 

He looked down at her, wanting to hate her, wanting to hurt, to scare her as badly as she had scared him.  He did the only thing he could think of that would frighten her that much.  He grabbed her by the shoulders and pinned her against the wall.  

With as much of a glare as he could muster, he held her gaze as he lowered his mouth to hers and ravished her with tongue, lips and teeth.  When he finally pulled back for breath, he saw that he'd bit her lip and it was bleeding.  His remorse was immediate and he pulled away in shame, only to find that she'd wrapped her legs around his body.  

Again, she was fumbling with his belt buckle.  He put his hand on top of hers.  "Scully," he said, his voice a murmur.  

She ignored him.  

He stepped back from the wall so that she could stand.  She did so but pushed him back toward the sofa.  When he fell onto the cushions she took his head in her hands and attacked his mouth with the same ferocity he'd shown her just moments before.  

It wasn't comfort sex this time -- it was wild and angry.  It was thunderstorm sex, hurricane sex, earthquake sex.  She clawed at his back as he sucked hard on her nipple.  Her fingers left bruises on his ass cheeks as he pumped into her so hard he was sure she would split in two.  When she came, she bit down on his upper arm and broke the skin.  He howled in pain and release. 

They lay panting, sweat and sex sticking them together.  He pressed his head to her shoulder and let the tremors fade. 

"Mulder.  I have to go," she said, pushing gently on his arm.   He hissed when she hit the wound she'd just made.  "Oh damn.  Get up, I need to look at that." 

"Scully?" he called out as she went into his kitchen and started clattering around.  In a few minutes she was back with a bottle of rubbing alcohol and one of his dishtowels.  

"This is going to hurt a bit," she warned and went about cleaning away the blood.  He hissed again and pulled away from her. 

"Scully, what the hell just happened?" he asked, searching her face for some sign that he hadn't just imagined what they'd done. 

"I bit you.  I'm sorry," she said simply.  "It's not deep, but we have to clean it.  Human bites are -- " 

"Scully!" he yelled, grabbing her arms and pinning them to her sides.  "Look at me!" 

She raised her eyes to his and all he could see was contrition and anguish.  "I am so sorry," she said.  When she pulled away, he let her go.  She was up and collecting her purse and jacket before he could say another word.  "I'll come by in the morning.  I'll take you to Spender's offices," she said.  And then she left.  

The truly maddening part for him was that at work, everything was normal.  She joked with him, she laughed with him.  They went to lunch together, grabbing hot dogs on the Mall or she would sweet-talk him into the health food deli not far from the Hoover.  

He wanted so badly to bring up the subject, but it eluded him.  There was no entree for it, no segue into it from any other discussion.  He considered putting one of the tapes he didn't own in the VCR and watching it when he knew she was coming back to the office, just to see her reaction.  But as he toyed with the plan, he was just as terrified that she might decide it was a great idea to play along with the tape. 

What upset him the most was that making love to Scully was a fantasy he had long denied himself.  He thought after his illness of the fall that things were getting better between them.  He couldn't fool himself, he knew that having Diana out of the way was a major factor in their improved relationship.  That was another regret, late at night when he was busy beating himself up -- that he hadn't believed Scully when she'd warned him about Diana.  After the woman's death seemed a really poor time to admit that he shouldn't have trusted her. 

But there had been progress.  He kissed Scully at New Years; she pulled his tie and flirted with him in a high school hallway weeks later.  Baby steps, yes, but he was more than willing to take baby steps if that was what she wanted.  All he wanted was her love, her companionship.  Sex was a far off dream, or so he'd thought.  

The proverbial last straw was when he returned from Vermont.  He was exhausted as he plodded down the jet way, trying to remember if he had enough cash and change for the shuttle to the metro station.  She was standing by the gate. 

"Hey, need a ride?" she asked.  He nodded tiredly.  "You look beat." 

"You have no idea," he warned her. 

When they arrived at his apartment, his back had stiffened from the ride and he groaned as he got out of the car.  She noticed immediately. 

"Mulder, did you get hurt?" she accused. 

"The monster tossed me through a door and tried to drown me," he admitted.  "Paramedics checked me out," he added in his defense. 

"Oh yeah," she smirked.  "Well, I want to take a look.  Why didn't you say something sooner?" 

The dread was heavy as he followed her up to his door.  He was fighting an internal battle.  What had he told Ellen Adderly?  That he didn't have a significant other -- in the widely understood definition of the term.  He loved Scully with all his heart.  He couldn't imagine anyone else at his side.  He never looked at other women because they always paled in comparison to his partner.  But their relationship seemed to be on a destructive path and he had no idea what was going on or why.  So far their few encounters had definitely fulfilled his close to forty-year old body's sexual appetites.  It was his almost forty-year old heart that felt the loneliness after.  If only she would talk to him. 

Maybe she was afraid of commitment.  He could certainly relate to that.  But after seven years together, wasn't that really a moot point?  She was the one who'd once suggested 'getting out of the car'.  But maybe she had come to the conclusion that he would never do that -- never want a normal life.  He was so confused.  Twenty years ago he would have panted by the door, waiting for her footsteps in his hallway.  Now, he dreaded being alone with her when they weren't at work.  What the hell was wrong with this picture? 

Once in the apartment, she herded him into the living room.  "OK, where are you hurt?  Your back?" 

He nodded mutely, praying she would simply look at his back and leave it be.  

"Mulder, I don't have X-ray vision.  Could you take off your shirt, please?" 

He chewed on his lip for a moment before he reached up and pulled off his tie.  He fumbled with the buttons on the dress shirt while he pulled the tails out of his pants.  In slow motion, he slipped out of the shirt and stood before her in just his undershirt. 

"Which side?" she asked. 

He started to relax.  She was using her 'doctor' voice.  He could handle that.  She looked at his injuries all the time.  It had saved him a bundle on co-pays over the years.  He pulled the left side of his tee shirt up, exposing the skin on his back.  "Here," he said unnecessarily and turned toward her, exposing his bare back.  

She stepped forward and leaned down to get a better look.  "Oh, god, Mulder.  This bruise is huge!"  She placed her hands along his ribs and his spine and pressed gently.  He let out a yelp.  "Mulder, did they do a urinalysis?  Did anyone check for blood or protein?" 

"They checked for cracked ribs.  I don't know that the bruise was there at the time," he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders.  

"OK, does it hurt when you void?" 

He smiled.  She was in full-blown doctor mode if she used 'void' instead of 'pee'.  "No, I've 'voided' a couple of times since they checked me.  No blood, no pain." 

"Cloudiness?" she prompted, still looking at the bruise. 

"Nope.  Clear and yellow.  Now, are we quite through discussing my urinary functions?" 

"You can put your shirt down," she told him.  "I want you to take some Tylenol and get to bed early.  You're exhausted.  If you are still tired when the alarm goes off tomorrow, call in sick, OK?" 

"Are you gonna write me a note?" he teased.  She raised one eyebrow and he grinned in relief.  "Hey, wanna split a pizza?" 

"Sure," she said, settling on the couch.  "You go change, I'll order." 

While they waited for the pizza, Scully told him all about the 'arrest' of the 'female serial killer'.  As it turned out, the young man was a youth minister at a local church.  His older sister had run away from home at the age of 15 -- she'd died 3 years later at the hands of a john in a fleabag hotel.  He told the police that God had told him it was his mission in life to save other girls from that fate.  After repeated official and personal apologies, he was released without being charged. 

Mulder then had a chance to tell Scully about what he'd found in Vermont.  "Ellen Adderly turned into a monster because she was protecting her home, Scully," he said, nursing his beer. 

"So her husband wanted a divorce and she trapped him with a child.  That is low, Mulder.  Really low." 

"Yeah, but he wasn't much better, Scully.  I mean, he married her, right?  She bent over backwards making a good home, a wonderful home for him and that's how he repaid her -- sleeping with her best friend!  That's pretty much my definition of a scumbag." 

"Well, you can't force a person to love you," she said, shaking her head.  "Maybe he never loved her.  Maybe he just thought he loved her.  Is it fair for him to be stuck in a loveless marriage for the rest of his life?" 

Mulder shrugged, lifting the bottle to his lips and taking a swig.  "Well, it's sad, if you ask me.  Now she's in an institution for the criminally insane and her husband who doesn't even love her will raise her daughter.   Her life is ruined." 

Scully made a point of looking at her watch.  "Here, let me clear this away.  You need to get ready for bed."  She stood and picked up the pizza box and the two empty beer bottles. 

He went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth, chuckling to himself as he 'voided' again.  He washed his hands and stood for a minute looking into the mirror.  He was exhausted.  And he looked every one of his thirty-nine years, plus ten.  When did he get so old?  He shook his head and stretched, listening to his vertebrae realigning all the way down his spine.  Finally, he turned off the bathroom light and plodded into his bedroom, tumbling into bed still in his sweat pants. 

"Don't you want to change?" she asked from the doorway. 

He flinched; he thought she'd left.  "Are you going to tuck me in, Scully?" he asked nervously.  He's meant it as a joke, but his mouth was dry and his throat tight.  He sat straight up and stared at her. 

She sauntered over to the bed.  "Get under the covers," she ordered, her eyes dark and sparkling in the light of streetlamp outside his window. 

"Scully, if we're . . . if you're . . ."  He couldn't form a thought.  This was worse than a nightmare.  He wanted to check her for green blood.  But she was smiling at him.  It was Scully.  Wait.  Had he checked her for a surgically removed tail? 

"Mulder, get under the covers."  It wasn't an order this time, it was a plea.  He nodded, trying to hold her gaze as he lowered his upper body to the mattress and pulled the covers up to his chest.  He closed his eyes and gasped when he felt the bed dip with her weight.  His eyes flew open and he saw her sitting on the edge of the bed, innocence personified.  He let out the breath he was holding. 

"You didn't hit your head on the way through the door, did you?" she asked with a faint upturn of her lips.  She reached forward and brushed the hair from his temple.  "Any other injuries I need to know about?" 

He cleared his throat, a large lump had appeared just at his vocal chords.  "No.  Back was about it.  They did check me over, Scully.  Penlight in the eyes, the whole nine yards." 

"Good," she said with a firm nod, but she continued to stroke his temple.  

It felt so good.  This was more like it.  It was like a thousand other times when he'd awakened in a hospital room to find her sitting next to his bed.  He could handle this.  He could relax. 

"I'm sorry about leaving you in a slum with no heat," he murmured as he felt his body grow heavy with sleep. 

"That's OK, Mulder.  At least I wasn't attacked by a deranged suburban housewife," she teased, but her voice had taken on that singsong quality she often used with him when she was trying to lull him to sleep.  

He was in that half-wake/half-sleep dream world when he felt a rush of cold air against his hip.  Drowsy, he turned his head and saw her slipping under the covers next to him. 

"Scully," he whispered.  "Scully."  It was a plea, a hope, a prayer.  

"Shhh, Mulder.  It's OK.  It's OK."  She tugged at his arm until he let her slide under it and rest her head on his chest.  "It's OK," she repeated and he began to believe her. 

Tentatively, he touched her chin and brought her face up close to his.  "Scully," he breathed.  "Scully."  He wanted to ask her what was happening, wanted to have her tell him what they were doing, but all he could see were her eyes and all her could hear was her heart beating in time to his.  

This time it was gentle.  He kissed her softly and she kissed him back.  He stroked her cheek and she toyed with the hair just above his ear.  He kissed her cheek, along her jaw, her throat and felt her swallow under his lips.  He kissed his way down her body.  She moved clothing and bra and panties out of his way as his mouth blazed a trail down her skin. 

She parted her legs as his lips furrowed a path through her rough auburn curls.  He smiled as he found her clit peeking out beneath its hood.  He brushed his lips across it and she bucked and gasped.  He smiled again as he extended his tongue and swiped the length of her, lapping at the nub before dipping into her tunnel.  Her moans were the only sound in the room.  Her scent filled him and he wondered why it seemed so natural, so familiar, so intoxicating to him when he knew for a fact this was the first time they'd ever been together like this.  

His hands had been holding her legs, but he brought his left hand up and slipped the long index finger into her.  She cried out and grabbed his head, pushing him down on her harder.  He made one more swipe before turning his attention to pumping two fingers into her while suckling at her tender bud. 

She cried out his name, over and over again as he felt her walls spasm and clutch at his fingers.  He slowed his movements, bringing her down, the suckling abating to gentle kisses with his lips.  She raised her head and looked down at him with a drowsy, sated smile. 

"Oh, god, Mulder," she sighed.  "C'mere."  She pulled on his shoulders and brought him up to rest his head on her breast.  "God, you are good at that," she murmured. 

"Thank you," he said with an arrogant smile.  "I take requests, you know." 

"No, thank you, you did just fine picking out your own tune," she told him and ruffled his hair.  "But that was just the first dance," she said coyly. 

"Scully, as much as it pains me to say this -- I think that's the first dance and the last dance, at least for tonight.  I'm exhausted and I'm not sure I could finish anything I started right now.  In the morning, maybe . . . " 

Before he could complete his sentence she was rolling over to her side and getting out of the bed.  "Then, I'll see you at the office," she said in a strained voice.  She dug under the covers and found her clothes.  "If you're feeling bad, or your back hurts, don't forget to call in," she reminded him as she moved toward the door. 

"Scully -- wait a minute," he called after her.  He grabbed his sweatpants and pulled them up, hurrying to catch her as her hand was on the apartment door.  He slammed his hand flat against the wood panel, effectively blocking her exit.  "What the hell is going on?" he demanded. 

"Mulder, you just told me you're tired.  I understand that.  I'm letting you get some sleep.  I'll see you in the morning -- or later in the day tomorrow."  Her head was bowed and she refused to look at him. 

He brought his hand up and touched her chin, but she flinched away.  That just made him angry.  "Scully, what the fuck --  What did I do?" 

She glanced up at him and quickly looked away.  "I said thank you.  You were great -- wonderful.  But I have to go.  Now, please, Mulder, move your hand so I can let you have some rest." 

"I don't want rest.  I want an answer," he said pushing her aside with his hip and leaning back against the door.  "Scully, what is going on?  Four times we've had sexual activity of one kind or another and every time you ran out afterwards like your ass was on fire.  What the hell gives?" 

When she did look up at him, her anger was equally apparent.  "What do you want, Mulder?  A handwritten thank you note?  A medal from the President?" 

He looked at her in horror.  "No, goddamn it!  I want . . . I expected us to . . . god, Scully, have you ever heard of just falling asleep after sex?  Maybe holding each other, waking up together in the morning?  Is that beyond your comprehension?  Or maybe just acknowledging that we've moved up a level in our relationship!  That would be enough for me." 

Her face grew red and she began shaking her head.  "There has been NO change in our relationship, Mulder.  We are partners," she bit out.  "That's what we were before and what we are now.  Nothing has changed, goddamn it!" 

The words hit him straight in the gut.  He almost doubled over with the pain of it.  His throat was so tight he almost couldn't breath, much less speak.  "How can you say that?" he gasped. 

"Just because we fooled around a couple of time doesn't mean anything, Mulder," she said tersely.  "It's the goddamned twenty-first century!  Have you never heard the words 'casual sex' before?" 

With mouth agape, he moved from the door, refusing to look at her.  "Go," he ground out.  "Get out." 

"Mulder," she whispered, reaching out to touch his arm.  He jerked out of her reach.  "Mulder, you have to understand -- " 

"Oh, believe me, I do," he said, glaring at her hand but not her face.  "You've spelled it all out for me.  I understand you perfectly, Scully." 

"No, I don't think you do.  Mulder, I . . . I just don't think . . . I mean, what we are -- " 

"Fuck buddies, you mean?  Partners with benefits?  Is that what you're trying to tell me?" he spat out. 

"Mulder, you are my friend -- " 

"Well, thanks for clearing that up, Scully.  Now, if you don't mind, I really do need to get some sleep."  He turned his back and walked as steady as he could to his bedroom.  He sat on the bed until he heard the door shut behind her.  Then he made his way back to the couch.  Sleep didn't come for a long time.  Eventually, with the tears still drying on his cheeks, he dropped into slumber. 

He did call in sick the next day.  It was the first 'non line of duty' sick day he'd had in almost 9 years.  The personnel officer who answered the phone wanted to know the name of the hospital where he was admitted.  He told them it was the flu and he was at home, sleeping.  

Scully called about 6 pm and left a message when he didn't pick up the phone.  She called again at 7, and at 8.  By 9 he unplugged the answering machine and took the phone off the hook so she just got a busy signal if she tried after that.  He didn't move from the couch except to go to the bathroom.  He considered briefly going over to the Gunmen, but in his current depressed state, he knew it would be a terrible idea.  He was terrified that Scully would come back to the apartment, but when she hadn't shown up by 11 pm, he knew that wasn't going to happen.  It left him feeling absolutely empty inside. 

At seven o'clock the next morning he decided he should go into the office.  He showered, shaved, hunted through his closet for his most outlandish tie -- one he hadn't worn in at least four years because Scully had turned up her nose at it once -- and made it to the basement by 8:05.  

It was decidedly chilly in the basement, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with the crack in the window.  He made a point of not looking at her and when she wasn't looking, he made a point of noticing that she wasn't looking at him.  If they'd been called upon to go to a team work seminar at any point in the week they both would have been killed when the tower of furniture crushed them as it toppled to the ground.  And all the time, his heart was bleeding. 

A case did hit his desk and it was interesting.  A girl, teenager, died with large amounts of a viscous substance in her lungs and stomach. Mulder's first, last and only suggestion was ectoplasm.  Scully refrained from laughing in his face, but he caught her snickering when she leaned over to pick up a pencil she'd dropped.  She did condescend to do the autopsy and collect some of the substance to send to the FBI labs.  The analysis would take a couple of days, but Mulder wanted to go out and take a look at the crime scene -- in Idaho.  Scully had flatly refused.  

He thought about going out by himself, but Skinner told him that he wouldn't sign off on the 302 (and any subsequent travel expenses) until Scully had looked over the analysis of the substance, so Mulder was stuck.  Stuck in a basement with the one person on the planet that he could stand to be around but was the last person on earth he wanted to be near right then. 

That's when he got the email about the crop circles.  Crop circles.  Not since their first year together had they really investigated crop circles.  He knew it was a lark, knew for a fact that she would balk at the suggestion.  Maybe that was why he wanted to go so badly.  He hated to call it a test, but the psychology major who graduated second in his class at Oxford part of his brain acknowledged that was exactly what it was.  If she loved -- no, if she 'cared' for him -- even just as a friend -- she would go with him on this lark.  England for a weekend.  He could show her some of his old haunts -- just get away from DC for a while.  It had been an awful week and he was tired of being angry with her.  He wanted his life back, his partnership back, but he wasn't sure how to go about it.  A case seemed the perfect solution. 

Of course, she would have none of it.  She knocked him down flat, after rubbing his nose in the analysis of the 'ectoplasm'.  How was he to know margarita mix would congeal when mixed with stomach acids?  Her snarky comments about farmers acing geometry had stung a little but he brushed them off.  What irked him more than anything was her attitude.  "Why don't you ever just stay still?" she had whined. 

After she'd walked out on him not once but four times?  It was everything he could do not to throw the damned slide projector against the wall in his frustration.

Instead, he walked out on her. 

His psychologist self would have diagnosed compulsiveness behind his repeated attempts to talk to her.  She'd made it quite obvious that she didn't want to help him, didn't even really want to talk to him, but at the same time he felt the deep seated need to connect with her.  Giving her the 'errand' of running down the crop circle information rang dangerously close to the 'case' he sent her to investigate in Philadelphia years before and that was the last thing he wanted to remember.

As he got on the plane, he prepared himself to lose her -- not to the conspiracy, but to his own selfish need to move their relationship forward. 

Without Scully, England held no appeal.  His plane was late, his hotel reservations had been mixed up and the farmer who owned the field had flatly refused him access to the area.  Apparently he wasn't the only 'wassuk*' to arrive at the farmer's residence that day, which the gentleman tersely explained as he answered the door armed with a hayfork.  All in all, Mulder was miserable and horribly lonely.  He ended up spending the night in Heathrow Airport, scrounging through the duty-free shops, waiting for the plane to take him home. 

On the way back across the Atlantic, he made his decision.  Life without her just wasn't life -- it was slow and painful death.  If she didn't want his love, he would have to learn to accept that.  But the 'benefits' had to end.  His heart couldn't take having her just as a convenient 'sex partner'.  If he couldn't have her love -- he wanted just her friendship.  He'd been alone and celibate (at least as far as sex with another person) for years, he could continue that way. 

He stopped by her apartment straight from the airport.  She wasn't there.  He vaguely remembered her saying something about the hospital and he decided to take a chance.  All the while he was rehearsing what he planned to say to her.  That is was all right; that he loved her but understood that she didn't return his feelings.  That he wanted her to remain with him, as a partner and a friend.  But any more advances on her part would not be welcomed.  He hoped she would understand why and maybe, with time, he would understand it all, too. 

He was walking from the parking lot when someone grabbed his arm.  He spun around and there was Scully.  She looked confused at first, like she thought he was someone else.  He told her that nothing had happened in England and she made some comment that maybe it wasn't supposed to happen, which he immediately took as offensive.  But then she smiled her special smile at him and offered to make him tea. 

Over tea, something he rarely drank unless iced or he was barred from drinking coffee, she spilled out the whole story of her weekend.  He was slightly aghast that she had run into an old lover, not to mention a man nearly twice her age, but he did something he'd always been good at -- he listened and tried not to judge.  When she got to the part about the Buddhist temple and her self-described vision, it was everything he could do not to stand on the couch and crow.  He did tease her, just a little.  In the end, it was obvious that the weekend had been good for her -- that she'd come to some decisions about herself and her life and she seemed happy in that.  He was just relieved that she seemed happy to be with him. 

It was half past midnight when she finally fell asleep sitting next to him.  His heart melted.  How could he have been so angry with her for the past week?  Maybe she was right, they were friends and that was something he could count on one hand, some days, one finger.  He would always love her, no matter what she did or felt.  Letting that love guide him, he tenderly covered her with his favorite blanket and left her to get some sleep. 

He was sleeping peacefully when he felt something next to him.  Not again.  He couldn't take this again.  He rolled over onto his side and saw her there in the moonlight. 

Her hair was in her eyes and when he reached over and brushed the strand back behind her ear his fingers came away moist.  He squinted and saw the silvery tracks of tears running down her high, perfect cheekbones. 

"Scully, what's wrong?" he asked and his earlier dismay at finding her in his bed vanished. 

"Mulder, I've been horrible to you and I'm so sorry," she sobbed.  

He quickly gathered her in his arms.  "Shhh, Scully, don't say that.  I was stupid to push you.  I understand you don't feel that way about me -- " 

She pushed back from his embrace.  "No, that's just it -- I DO feel that way about you, Mulder.  I have for so very long.  But I just -- I think some part of me was so frightened.  We have such a special friendship and all the relationships I had in the past ended, well, for lack of a better term, badly, very badly.  I couldn't stand the thought of losing you!  Not after almost losing you for real so many times already."  She broke down into sobs again. 

"Scully . . . don't you think I'm scared, too?" he asked, pulling her hands away from her face.  "God knows I'm terrified every time you don't answer your cell phone on the second ring!" 

"That's not it -- well, not entirely.  Mulder, you know my life, my childhood.  We never stayed anywhere more than two years in a row and so friends were always just passing acquaintances.  When my parents finally settled in Baltimore, I was in my senior year of college.  I never even had a roommate for more than a year," she sniffed.  "Boyfriends -- hell, I didn't have time for boyfriends, at least that's what I told myself." 

"Scully, you don't have to tell me this -- " 

"Yes, yes I do, Mulder.  I owe you this much and so much more."  She wiped at her eyes and swallowed.  He reached over her to his nightstand and grabbed a handful of tissues.  "Thank you," she said, smiling as she took them.  "All that changed with Daniel," she said, drawing in a breath. 

"He was your teacher, you looked up to him," Mulder said quietly. 

"I looked up to him, I worshipped the ground he walked on.  My God, I followed him around like a puppy, Mulder.  It's embarrassing now to think how I acted around him.  And when he finally took notice of me -- well, I fell hard, really hard." 

"Been there, done that, still have heel prints on my back, Scully.  You remember Phoebe," he replied with a slight chuckle. 

"But Mulder, we . . . I definitely had blinders on.  At first I thought it was sweet that he had taken an interest in me.  I thought he saw me as a 'star pupil' -- brother, was that arrogant or what?" she smirked.  "But then, suddenly I found myself in his arms -- but he was married!  I knew he was married from the moment we first started seeing each other.  I felt so dirty at the same time I felt so light and in love.  It was horrible, absolutely the worst time of my life," she said in a shuddering voice.  

"He told me they had a loveless marriage and that she had affairs on him all the time," she snorted.  "I wasn't stupid enough to believe it, but I hoped it was true.  And then I found out about Maggie, their daughter.  Mulder, she wasn't that much younger than me!  She was in college, a freshman.  She came up to the hospital one time to see him and when I saw her -- he'd never mentioned her before.  I thought it was just a marriage of convenience, two professionals and they didn't want to divorce because of the scandal it would involve.  I had no idea they had a child together." 

"When I confronted him about his daughter, he said he'd told her about me.  It was a lie, of course, but I had no way to prove it.  He said he had asked his wife for a divorce and that now it was down to the squabbling over their assets.  I was so incredibly naive!  Anyway, after a couple of months and he was still going home to her -- I knew what was happening.  I knew he was lying to me and that he had no intention of leaving her.  So I did the only honest thing I could do -- I left him.  I left him and I left medicine and I applied to the FBI because I heard they were looking for pathologists.  And, well, you know the rest." 

"I know the rest," he confirmed with a grin.  "But Scully, what does that have to do -- " 

"Mulder, don't you see?  I suck at relationships.  I am so set in my ways that when something happens that I don't like -- I bolt.  I did it with Jack, I did it with Ethan.  I look for a father figure, I know I do and then when I get one, I fight against the very thing I was drawn to in the first place.  My relationship with you is a perfect example!" 

"You see me as a father figure?" he blurted out. 

"No," she sighed.  "An authority figure.  You taught me how to be a field agent, Mulder.  You taught me about interrogation methods and profiling -- hell, I wouldn't be an agent at all if not for you.  But at the same time, I get so angry at you sometimes -- " 

"Is this about the desk again, because Scully, we measured the room and another desk -- " 

"Mulder, fuck the desk!" she growled and at his wicked expression, she started to giggle.  "OK, don't fuck the desk," she admitted. 

He reached out and cupped her cheek with his palm.  "But Scully, listen to yourself.  You just glossed right over the important difference between our relationship and the ones you had in the past." 

She bit her lip and looked at him in confusion. 

"Scully -- you haven't bolted.  With the one notable exception of a few bad days in Philly that I chalk up to fear about your health, you are still here.  God, you've gone to Africa for me, you've gone to Alaska for me -- " 

"You went to Antarctica for me, Mulder," she whispered and kissed his hand. 

"Don't you see?  We've been dancing around each other for seven years now.  I don't if we'll last another seven, but I want to try.  I want to see just how far we can take this." 

"But aren't you scared . . . of losing what we have?" she asked in a small, timid voice. 

"Scully, I'm more afraid of missing out on what we could become," he said and leaned forward to kiss her. 

She clutched the back of his neck and deepened the kiss.  Their tongues dueled for position, he swiped along her bottom lip and she nipped the corner of his mouth.  He pulled away, breathless. 

"Scully, before this gets out of hand, please, promise me -- " 

"We have all night," she whispered and pulled him back down to explore his mouth again. 

He broke one more time.  "I was hoping for a little longer than that," he admitted with desperation in his eyes. 

She smiled at him.  "Let's see what we become," she answered.  She grabbed the hem of his tee shirt and pulled it over his head.  "I want skin," she told him and his pajama bottoms soon followed his shirt in a pile on the floor. 

"So do I," he readily agreed and helped her out of her sweater and pants.  Her satin bra fascinated him, especially the front clasp.  He captured her gaze as he flicked the clasp open one-handed.  "I like this one.  Keep it around," he said. 

"I'll only buy this kind from now on," she purred as he nuzzled and then suckled on first one nipple and then the other.  

She scraped his back lightly with her nails as he kissed his way down her stomach.  "Oh, yes, Mulder, please," she begged as he coaxed her panties around her hips and down her legs.  She raised her head and watched him caress her mons with his lips.  

"Do I hear any requests?" he asked, lifting his eyes to hers. 

"What you did before, just like before," she murmured and continued to watch him as he hunted for and found her clit, lathing it with his tongue.  "Oh, god, yes!" she hissed. 

He spread her lower lips, running his fingers down them to gather the moisture.  Dipping into her tunnel, he wiggled his index finger against the front and smiled when she bucked into his hand.  Soon his tongue and fingers were working her, playing her.  He took her nub in his mouth and allowed his teeth to graze it gently. 

She tossed her head back and forth but when he sucked harder on her nub and stretched his little finger to just lightly touch the opening of her anus she screamed.  She clamped her legs around his head and held him in place.  His fingers were nearly crushed with the force of her orgasm.  He petted her clit with his tongue, calming her, bringing her back to him. 

"Oh, god, Mulder -- can we do that again, later?" she panted. 

"Any time you want," he assured her, climbing up to take her in his arms.  "Every night if you want," he added, kissing her closed eyes. 

"I want you, inside me," she said holding his face in her hands.  He moved into position over her but she shook her head no.  "Sit up, Mulder, on your knees." 

He smiled at her.  "Been reading the Kama Sutra lately, Scully." 

"I studied it in college.  Nice book, mostly pictures," she joked as she watched him pull himself up and sit with his legs beneath him. 

"All set," he told her. 

She encircled his girth with one and hand and fondled the heavy sacks below.  "God, Mulder, how long I've wanted to do this," she whispered. 

"How long I've wanted it too, Scully," he replied in a low growl.  He placed his hands on her waist and helped her to her knees.  She straddled him, but didn't take him in just yet.  "Scully, I love kissing you," he said, pleased to find her mouth at just the perfect level. 

"I knew you had an oral fixation, Mulder," she sighed just before their lips touched.  

In just a few breaths, they were dueling again, his tongue plunging into her mouth in a rhythm he hoped to continue lower on their bodies.  "Scully, please, let me inside you," he panted before diving into her mouth again. 

"Now that's a request," she quipped, lowering slowly around his shaft, taking him in to her with shuddering little actions.  They sighed as one when she took him inside to the hilt. 

With his hands on her hips, Mulder let her set the pace of her movements while he steadied her.  She gripped his shoulders, gaining leverage.  He could feel his cock growing inside her, the blood rushing to that one part of his body that needed it the most.  She moved up and down in a delicious friction that alternately burned through his groin and caused the muscles at the bottom of his feet to curl. 

"So good, so good," he chanted in her ear as he nipped at her lobe and ran his tongue around her whorls. 

"Yes, yes, yes," she exhaled, pumping up and down on his length, punctuating each downward motion with a kiss on his neck and shoulder. 

"Can you come like this?" he asked her and she shifted every so slightly so that her mons and clit were rubbing against the motion of his shaft. 

"Yes, yes," she repeated and closed her eyes. 

He knew she was close, which was a good thing because his balls had drawn so tight they ached.  He took over control and pounded up into her, jarring her as he brought her ass to slap against his thighs. 

"Yes! Yes!" she shouted and went still, throwing her head back and arching her neck   He'd never seen anything so beautiful.  He'd never felt anything so incredible as her orgasm triggered his and he followed her off the cliff of their release. 

They tumbled to the side, landing on the mattress with legs still a jumble and his cock still ensconced in her heat. 

He slipped out of her and she gasped in protest.  But he took her in his arms and held her against him, her head resting over his heart. 

They lay there for several minutes, quiet, sated.  She moved and he tensed, but she only lifted her head up to rest on his shoulder.  "I love you, Mulder," she said so quietly he thought it might have been just a wish he'd made. 

"What?" he asked, touching her chin so that she tilted her head up and he could look into her eyes.  "What did you say?" 

"I love you," she repeated, their gazes locked together. 

His heart clenched and he felt the tears well against his lashes.  

She took his face in her hands and caressed his dampened cheeks with her thumbs.  "I'm sorry I haven't said it sooner, but I love you, Mulder.  I love you with all my heart." 

"I love you, too," he croaked out. 

"I know," she said with a tender smile.  She laid her head back on his shoulder and in minutes was fast asleep. 

When he awoke, the sun was shining through the tree outside his window.  He rolled over and found he was alone.  Just as his stomach contracted with agony, he saw the note.  Written in large letters to accommodate him without his contacts it read: 


I can't show up at the office in these clothes so I ran home to shower and change.  To make up for it, I'll bring you breakfast.  

Pack a bag, bring a suit for tomorrow -- tonight you're staying at my place.  We'll negotiate the morning shower schedule over a dinner of Chinese take out. I love you, Scully,." 

He ran his fingers over the edge of the paper and smiled.  Then tossing off the covers, he headed for the bathroom.  He had to hurry so he could get packed. 

the end.





*wassuk -- n., anglo-saxon orign. according to my sources:  a person who is a nut case, looney tunes, a taco short of a combo plate, a total whack job.


Lyrics to Miracles by Jefferson Starship (I like it better than the Moby song)


If only you believe like I believe, baby
We'd get by
If only you believe in miracles, baby
So would I
If only you believe like I believe, baby
We'd get by
If only you believe in miracles, baby
So would I.

I might have to move heaven and earth to prove
It to you, baby
So were makin love and you feel the power
And I feel the power
Then there's really nothing that we cant do
If we wanted to, baby
We could exist on the stars
I'd be so easy
All we gotta do
Is get a little faith in you
Oh, I've been (to) so many places
I've seen some things
I know, love is the answer
Keeps holding this world together
Ain't nothing better
Ain't nothing better
And all the answers to our prayers
Hell , it's the same everywheres, baby
Nothing ever breaks up the heart
Only tears give you away
Then you're right where I found ya
With my arms around ya
Oh baby, baby, baby, love is a magic word, yeah
Few ever find in a lifetime
But from that very first look in your eyes
I knew you and I had but one heart
Only our bodies were apart
That was so easy, so easy
I had a taste of the real world
When I went down on you, girl.

If only you believe like I believe, baby
We'd get by
If only you believe in miracles, baby
So would I
If only you believe like I believe, baby
We'd get by
If only you believe in miracles, baby
So would I.

I can hear windmills and rainbows
Whenever you're talkin to me
I feel like swirling and dancin
Whenever you're walking with me
You ripple like a river when I touch you
When I pluck your body like a string
When I start dancin inside ya
Oh baby, you make me wanna sing
Yeah, baby, baby, baby, baby
Oh yeah, all right
Baby, were sure doin it tonight
Everytime you come by, let me try
Pretty, please sugar on it
That's how I like it
I can't even believe it, with you
It's like having every dream I ever wanted
Come true
I picked up your vibes
You know it opened my eyes
But I'm still dreamin yeah
And you're right where I found ya
With my arms around ya.


[Yeah, I didn't know all that was in there, either!]