By Donnilee
donnilee@snet.net
 

RATING:  NC-17

CATEGORY:  MSR

DISCLAIMER:  All characters from the X-Files are the property
of their creator, Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions and Fox
Broadcasting.  No copyright infringement intended.

SUMMARY:  Scully and Mulder finally confront their feelings
after a harrowing case is resolved.

THANKS:  To my beta readers, FatCat and Cratkinson.  Both
work tirelessly to make sure I don't look like an idiot.  Thanks,
girls, for this, and being great friends.  I appreciate it more
than you know.

XXXXXXXXX
PART 1 (PG)
D.C. COURTHOUSE
WASHINGTON, D.C.
FRIDAY AFTERNOON

Colin Murphy had been killed to shut him up.  He knew something
he shouldn't have known and he had died for it.  That was the
down side to being an accessory to murder.  Those pesky
murderous types just couldn't be trusted.  What a bitch that was,
huh?

I looked at Scully.  She sat primly in the hard bench seat of the
courthouse, watching as the attorneys for Frank (Funky) Fairman
and the prosecution argued over a change of venue.  Funky, as it
turned out, wasn't very 'fair' with anyone he came in contact with,
particularly not Colin Murphy, his brother-in-law-cum - accomplice.
No way could he could get a fair trial here after the media blitz,
the defendant's attorney argued.  I leaned over and whispered to
Scully, "Does it strike anyone but me as ironic when murderers
argue over what is fair?"

She tried not to look amused, but I caught the corner of her mouth
lifting, despite her best efforts to appear unaffected.  My leg
bounced in my boredom, and her hand came down on my thigh, close to
my knee.  "Mulder, stop fidgeting.  You're driving me crazy."

Unable to resist, I whispered, "Move your hand farther back, and
you can pay me back by driving me crazy."

Her hand snatched away as if she'd been burned.  I detected a
slight coloring at the base of her neck, but it didn't creep up
higher, much to my disappointment.  Making Scully blush was one of
the juvenile pleasures still afforded to me in this life.  She
tried to give me the 'death glare', but I smiled my most innocent
smile and she gave an exasperated sigh instead.

I glanced at my watch.  "We're going to be late for our meeting
with Skinner," I informed her.

She raised one eyebrow towards her hairline.  "And this concerns
you because?" she asked.  If I didn't know better, I would have
thought she was teasing me.

"Punctuality and I aren't total strangers," I quipped.

"Could have fooled me," she fired back.

I smiled genuinely at her, always delighted when she decided to
return my banter.  Her face softened to something almost like
tenderness and I felt an unexpected lump rise up in my throat.  I
swallowed harshly around it and said, "Should we wait for the
verdict on this thing?"

"It's up to you, Mulder."

Just then, the attorneys returned to their respective tables and
the judge announced that the trial would proceed as scheduled on
the following Monday, no more delays.  The devil on my shoulder did
a little happy dance.  We stood and headed out of the courtroom in
an attempt to beat the rush.  No such luck.

The corridor leading to the exit out the front doors was jammed
with journalists from newspapers, TV, and magazines, all wanting
a statement.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Agent Mulder!  How do you feel about the coming trial of Frank
Fairman?"

"Agent Mulder!  Are you happy about the decision to deny the
change of venue request by Attorney Carlson?"

"Agent Mulder!  Will you be attending the trial in its entirety?"

Questions pummeled us from every side.  I tried to shield Scully
but she stoically elbowed her way through the crowd and stood
beside me, staunch an ally as always.  I realized we weren't
getting out of here without saying something.  I held up my hands
for silence, while bodies jostled microphones, nearly poking me in
the face.  Quiet settled for a brief moment and I replied, "I am
very pleased with the Judge's decision to hold the trial right here
in Washington, D.C., where Mr. Fairman's crimes were carried out.
I think the victims and their families deserve that courtesy.  I
will attend the trial as my schedule permits.  Although the
apprehension of Mr. Fairman was a great day for me, I have other
cases to attend to.  Thank you."

"Can you answer one more question?"

"Will you be called as an expert witness?"

"How did you figure out where he was going to be?"

The questions echoed behind us, jumbled together as we elbowed
our way through the crowd, making our way to the street.  Scully
hastily unlocked the door to our government-issue Ford Taurus and
slid behind the wheel.  I literally pushed a reporter out of the
way and slid into the passenger seat.  Bodies jumped back onto the
curb as Scully roared the engine in warning and then peeled out
onto the street, burning rubber and squealing the tires.  "What a
pack of jackals," I commented inanely.  We'd gone through this
every day for a week of the Grand Jury hearings.

XXXXXXXXXX

Frank Fairman was the scum of the earth.  Once again, my partner,
Fox Mulder, had worked his profiling magic and figured out where
the guy was hiding out, affecting his arrest with the task force
that had been formed.  The man had managed to kill eight women
before being caught, and I knew that those deaths weighed heavily
upon Mulder.  It didn't matter that five of them had occurred
before he was ever called in to consult with the task force.  He
felt responsible for each and every one, and I knew it.

All victims had been prostitutes or homeless and had been raped
and then split vertically from umbilicus to sternum with a heavy
six-inch hunting blade.  Mulder had worked day and night,
catching maybe two hours of sleep a night for over a week.  He
was exhausted and I could see it in every line of his body.
Although he stood proud on the courthouse steps, the moment the
eyes were off him, his posture slouched, the lines appeared around
his squinting eyes and his mouth frowned with worry and concern.
His leg bobbed again, a personal habit that exhibited his
nervousness or restlessness.  Sometimes it drove me nuts, other
times I realized he couldn't help it.  His resting state was
turmoil.

Others might not have noticed, but I knew him well.  He was not as
relieved as he led people to believe.  I knew that until Fairman
was behind bars for life or sentenced to death, Mulder would obsess
about the man.  I couldn't say that I blamed him, but I wanted to
distract him at least for a little while.  We had the weekend free
ahead of us, and I'd made him promise we wouldn't take off on
any new cases.  We would take the weekend to rest up and
recharge our batteries.  When I passed the highway on-ramp, he
turned sharply towards me.

"Where are you going, Scully?  Alexandria's that way," he intoned,
flipping his thumb over his shoulder.

I smiled.  "We're going to Georgetown, Mulder, where you will
enjoy the fine dining of Chez Scully, where a lasagna has been
prepared in anticipation of your coming to visit."

He sighed.  "You don't have to do this, Scully."

"Do what?"

"Baby me.  I'm fine.  I swear."

"Umm, hmmm," I said agreeably.

He rolled his eyes.  "I mean it, Scully.  I just need some time to
decompress."

"And if I bring you home, what will you be eating for dinner?  Left
over spring rolls and Kung Pao chicken that's a week old?  Or
perhaps three-day-old pizza?  No wait, let me guess, cereal and
beer?"

He chuckled.  "I get the point."

"Do you?  Did it occur to you that I might enjoy the company?  That
perhaps I don't want to eat an entire 13 X 9 pan of lasagna by
myself?"

"Okay, you win, Mama Bear."

I chuckled and he settled into his seat, staring out the window
again.

XXXXXXXXXX
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN, D.C.
FRIDAY AFTERNOON

We arrived and Mulder unfolded himself from the car, blindly
following me inside.  He didn't know yet of my ulterior motive.  I
was going to try to get him to bunk on my couch, as I knew he was
in for nightmares as soon as he dipped into REM sleep.  It always
happened after one of these profiling cases, without fail.  For
some reason, this time, I couldn't bring myself to let him go
through it alone.  I was tired of us both putting up a front all
the time that we were fine, and could handle all this emotional
chaos by ourselves.  Truth was, I was worn out myself.  We'd worked
nonstop for weeks, no days off and I wanted to decompress too.  I
also didn't want to be alone.

I put my lasagna in the oven to warm.  I'd cooked it earlier and it
just needed to heat up.  I started a pot of coffee and he silently
helped me set the table with plates and silverware and napkins.
Once we were eating and I'd seen the tension drop out of his
shoulders a bit as he relaxed into the inevitable companionable
silence, I said, "We need a vacation, Mulder."

He went still, his fork midway between the plate and his mouth.
He looked at me briefly, blinking slowly, and then decided to
finish the trip.  He chewed slowly and then dropped his eyes to his
plate.  "I suppose."

"But?" I prompted, seeing the wheels turning.

"What the hell would I do?  I'm lucky, actually.  I have no life
and so God, if he is up there, makes sure that the weird and stupid
never take a holiday.  This way, I always have something to
occupy myself with."

I sighed sadly.  "You need rest, Mulder.  You could consider doing
what normal people do?"

"What's that, Scully?" he asked.

I was ready to shoot back a sarcastic comment, when I looked at
his face.  He wasn't making a joke.  He really didn't know.  That
made me even sadder.  "We could go Disney World," I quipped.

He smiled.  Mission accomplished.  "Would you go on Space
Mountain with me, Scully?" he asked, joining in.

"Indeed.  We could stay at the hotel on-site where the Monorail
runs through and never have to drive anywhere.  I haven't seen
Epcott Center in years.  Then we could dine on Polynesian food
until we got sick."

He didn't respond and I looked up from my plate again to find him
staring at me, an odd look on his face.  "We, Scully?" he said
softly.

I realized what I'd said.  Oh Christ.  I wondered how to side step
this one, and then I realized I didn't really want to.  "Yeah, we
could vacation together, Mulder.  Why not?"

He looked truly perplexed.  "You don't get enough of me during
the week?"

"Ah, but that's the Work Mulder.  This would be the Casual
Mulder."

"Didn't know there was such a thing," he commented, still eyeing
me speculatively.

"Well, I personally have seen very little of him myself.  However,
I thought it might be like another investigation for me, only this
one would be much more fun than usual.  Sort of leisure
investigation to figure out if there is a Casual Mulder inside all
that bluster and braggadocio."

"I'm a bore, Scully," he said with finality.  "Ask anyone at the
Bureau.  I'm the wet blanket of all wet blankets.  I have no social
skills.  I don't work and play well with others.  I'm morose,
moody, mercurial and a general pain the ass.  I have one social
skill and I used it this morning.  I'm fresh out."

"You know, Mulder, you're beginning to believe your own
publicity," I snapped.

He seemed thrown at my semi-hostile response.  "Did it ever occur
to you that I have that publicity because it's true?"

"Did it ever occur to you that you have that publicity because most
people are ignorant assholes?" I fired back.

He smiled again, mildly amused.  "You don't have to feel obligated
to defend me, Scully. I know I'm not all that and a bag of chips."

I groaned in frustration.  "Okay, obviously I'm not going to
convince you that you're basically a nice guy, a brilliant man, who
is actually fun to spend time with when he's not obsessing about
work.  So let's try another tack.  My brother, Charlie, owns a
time-share in Hilton Head, South Carolina.  He's offered it to me
as a vacation spot whenever I want it.  He's stationed in San Diego
for the foreseeable future and doesn't anticipate getting leave for
at least six months.  I, personally, would like to take advantage
of his offer.  After all, I haven't had a vacation in a long time
either.  On the other hand, the idea of sun and beach and a
beautiful bungalow on the ocean doesn't sound as charming if I have
to go by myself."

"Take your mother," he suggested right away.

I growled.  Yes, growled.  "Mulder, damn it!  Why do you have to
be such a jerk?" I cried.  I felt tears sting the backs of my
eyelids.  I threw down my napkin and shoved my chair back.  I was
not going to cry in front of him and I didn't even really know why
I was.  Why was I pushing so hard?  Why did his contrariness feel
like a rejection of me?  I lunged away from the table and said, "Am
I that hard to spend time with?"

"Scully, no!" he replied.  He was out of his chair and following me
towards the bathroom.  I picked up speed and plunged through the
door, spinning around and shoving the door with all my might,
intending to make a dramatic show of slamming the door.  The
tears had escaped by now and I just wanted some privacy.

Instead, his foot stopped the door mid-flight and it bounced back
off his foot and crashed into the wall.  He cringed and said,
"Sorry."

I turned away from him, showing him my back and said, "Leave
me alone, Mulder."

There was a silence that was ripe with tension.  I was hyped by
indecision.  Keep playing my cards the way I'd always played
them?  Or should I try something else?  What did I have to lose at
this point?  I hated these cases.  Mentally and spiritually, they
took him away from me, and I always found myself profoundly lonely
during those times, knowing I could not follow where he went.
When it was over, I always felt a need to have him close.  Why?

I wiped my tears angrily on the sleeve of my turtleneck.  His hands
landed softly on my shoulders and he sighed.  "I'm sorry, Scully.
Don't cry."  He paused.  "Jesus, I hate it when you cry," he
whispered.

I turned to him and looked up.  He met my unwavering gaze with
one of his own.  "Can we talk, Mulder?  I mean, really talk?"

He bit his lower lip.  "Yeah, Scully."

I nodded forcefully and ducked around him.  I never did get that
cold cloth for my face.  Oh, well.  I marched into the living room
and flopped down onto the couch, my back to the armrest.  I curled
my right leg up and tucked my foot under my left knee.  My left
leg I left hanging off the end of the cushion.  He took up a
similar position on the other end of the couch.  Before I could
even start, he said, "I'm sorry, Scully.  If you want to go on
vacation, I'll go with you."

I shook my head in exasperation.  "Don't do me any favors,
Mulder."

He hung his head.  "I didn't mean for it to sound that way.  I
guess I truly don't understand why you would want to spend time
with me outside of work.  So I assume that it must be mothering or
pity."

"That may be one of the most insulting things you've ever said to
me," I replied with amazing calm.

He scowled.  "Damn it.  It's not you, Scully.  It's ME!"

"Exactly.  It's always all about you.  What about me, Mulder?"

He stared at me blankly.  "I don't know what you want, Scully."

"I want my friend, Mulder.  Remember him?  The one that wanted
to spend time with me?  The one that was interested in my personal
life?  The one that didn't think I had an ulterior motive for
everything I did?  Is he still in there?"

He hung his head and said nothing.  I guess that answered my
question.  Or did it?  After several long moments of utter silence,
he looked up and said in a tortured whisper, "I want to make you
happy, Scully, but honestly, I don't know how."

I felt a stab of guilt but suppressed it.  "How about taking what I
say at face value?"

"Okay, I'll try."

"Don't try, Mulder.  Just do it.  You say you trust me, and yet you
think I have some devious plan to take care of you and mother the
hell out of you."

"You don't want to take care of me?" he asked, his half smile
knowing.  "Come on, Scully.  I know I'm a poster boy for OCD
when I'm working on these cases.  I know I don't sleep.  I know I
have nightmares.  You think I don't see the concern written all
over your face?  You think I don't know that your worried sick
about me and what I might do if I'm left alone with my guilt and
self-flagellation?"

"Tell me something.  Why does concern and caring have to equal
pity with you?  Why do you think you have to be so damn
independent?"

"I don't know."

"Let me tell you a secret, Mulder."

"What's that?"

"It's been a hell of a long time since I've even pretended to be
emotionally independent.  I used to think that I was protecting
myself from being hurt.  I used to think that if I pushed people
away before they could hurt me, I would be safe from messy
emotional entanglements."

"How did that work for you?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, it worked.  I rarely got stepped on.  Haven't had my heart
broken in years.  What I didn't figure on was that by isolating
myself, I created a lovely world of lonely nights and boring days,
and hatred for everyone with a healthy relationship in their lives.
I realized something else.  I was miserable."

"No pain, no gain," he suggested.

"No risk, no happiness," I countered.

He stared at me.  "What do you mean that you haven't pretended?"

"That's all it was, really, pretending.  That's all we can do.
Bottom line is, none of us is an island.  We all need somebody in
our lives.  The more we try to tell ourselves we're happy without
others, the more miserable we become.  I stopped lying to myself a
long time ago.  I don't know if I thought it all the way through to
the end.  However, I did decide I was going to stop pushing
everyone away.  I was going to take a leap of faith with a few
people that were important in my life and let them in."

"What happened?"

"I lost my awkwardness and I gained a best friend."

"Me?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, you," I replied, just as softly.
 

XXXXXXXXXX
PART 2 (R)
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN, D.C.

So, speaking of weird and stupid never taking a holiday, I was
finally beginning to grasp what she was telling me.  I meant more
to her than a work partner.  Her concern for my welfare went
beyond the professional courtesy of one who merely hoped her
partner didn't take a swan dive off a five-story building roof.
She wanted to help me and comfort me because she cared about me as
her best friend, not because she pitied me.

Why did I insist on being such an island?  That was easy to
answer.  I was afraid, plain and simple.  I was afraid of being
hurt.  I was afraid of not measuring up and I was afraid on not
being enough to her, or anyone else in my life for that matter.
"Scully, I'm so messed up," I said quietly.

"It's part of your charm," she teased.

I smiled in spite of myself.  "I'm afraid mostly," I said to her
silent question.

"Afraid of what?  That I'll leave you?"

"Afraid you'll leave me, afraid I'll disappoint you.  Afraid of
everything, I guess," I admitted.  It was weird, talking like this.
We rarely did it and it was surprisingly pain free so far.
Although I recognized that I had hurt her, she was amazingly
resilient, with a large capacity for forgiveness.  Thank goodness,
or I would have screwed this up a long time ago.

"Mulder, I never expect you to be perfect.  I have no plans to
leave you, ever.  If I think about it, the only time you've ever
disappointed me is when you've ditched me or shut me out."

"You have a bad memory, Scully," I commented.

"No, I don't, Mulder.  Granted, I don't have the eidetic
memory you have, but my memory is fine.  Mistakes don't equal
disappointment and for that matter, they don't even equal failure."

I raised my eyebrows at her.  "What does equal failure then?"

"Making the same mistake over and over again and not learning
from it."

"Have I made any of those?"

"You keep ditching me."

"I haven't done that in a long time."

"I know, but this doesn't mean I believe it's a thing of the past.
I wish I could believe that, but I don't.  The thing is, Mulder,
that I need you too.  Don't you realize that?"

"You do?" I asked, genuinely surprised.  Now she was giving me
that look that told me I'd been an idiot again.

"Of course I do.  Like I said, I'm no island.  I need your comfort
and companionship as much as you need mine."

"You never let me comfort you, Scully.  I wish you would, believe
me."

She smiled softly.  "Just being with you is sometimes comforting,
Mulder, because you're familiar."

"Great," I said, unable to keep the note of sarcasm out.  That's
what I wanted to be, familiar.

"You're misunderstanding me," she informed me.  "Familiar isn't a
bad thing.  It's comforting to know that you are with someone who
accepts you as you are.  It's comforting to know you're my best
friend and you truly care about what I feel, you respect what I
feel, whether it matches your feelings or not."

"Of course I do," I replied automatically.

"Do you really not realize that I feel the same way?  Do you really
not realize that when you hurt, I hurt?"

I felt tears clog my throat, but I swallowed them.  "God, Scully, I
don't know what to say."

"Stop pushing me away.  Stop assuming I have ulterior motives
and accept what I say at face value.  Believe that I'm your friend
and that's my only motive."

I nodded.  "I'll try, Scully.  That's the best I can promise you."

"I'll take that for now."

"I'm really tired.  I will think about the vacation, but can you
give me a little time?"

"Of course."  She paused.  "Why don't you sleep here tonight?"

I cringed internally, automatically feeling that pity must be
behind the offer.  Our entire conversation came back to me and I
realized she was testing me.  Would I take her offer at face value?
Or would I read into it other motives?  Would I stay simply because
she was my friend and she asked it of me?  I nodded tentatively.
"I'll stay," I said.

She beamed me a smile and I felt like I'd passed some test.  I
returned her smile sheepishly and shrugged.  She stood up and
came down to my end of the couch, perching her right hip on the
edge of the cushion.  I slid in as far as I could go to make room
for her.  One arm reached out and hooked over the back of the
couch.  The other grabbed the armrest next to my head.  She stared
at me for a few moments.  "Believe in me, Mulder.  I promise it
won't hurt."

I smiled sadly and nodded.  She surprised me when she leaned in
and gave me a quick kiss on the lips.  I gasped slightly but
pressed my lips to hers.  She lingered for only a moment and didn't
open her mouth, but I felt like a bolt of electricity had shot
through my body.  I felt my groin tingle and stiffen from that
simple contact.  I suppose that put me in the caveman Y-chromosome
column, but at the moment, I couldn't even be embarrassed.  I was
too surprised.

She grinned at me, obviously pleased that she had taken me off
guard.  She stood up and said, "I'll get some sheets and pillows
for you."

Then she was gone and I was left licking my lips, wondering if I
would get the chance to kiss her again soon.  Maybe these heavy
conversations were a good thing after all.  If they got Scully to
kiss me on the lips, I'd talk all night long, every night.

XXXXXXXXXX

She returned shortly and put a sheet on the couch, and handed me a
pillow and a blanket.  I stripped down to my boxers and slid under
the blanket, lying on my side.

She had left and now emerged from the bathroom, wearing a
camisole and tap pants.  I couldn't help but stare at her, seeing
her pebbled nipples under the silky material.  I cursed myself
silently and told my body to relax.

She walked up to me slowly and perched her hip on the edge of the
sofa again.  Her hand reached out and she ran her fingers through
my hair, brushing it off my forehead.  Her nails scraped lightly on
my scalp and I couldn't stop the vicious shiver that ran down my
spine and vibrated my shoulders.

She smiled, looking slightly amused.  All I could do is stare.
Quietly, she said, "Call me if you need me.  I mean it."

I swallowed hard and nodded.  "I will," I croaked out.

She leaned down, giving me a flash view of the top of her breasts.
I wondered if she knew how much she was exposed in that outfit,
and doubted it.  She kissed me quickly, on the forehead his time
and then stood up.  "Good night, Mulder.  Try to get some sleep."

"Yeah," I muttered.

She walked away and headed for her bedroom.  I sat there,
wondering what was happening.  She'd kissed me, lightly, but
kissed me nonetheless, on the lips.  She was talking openly.  She
was strutting out here wearing next to nothing.  She was touching
me more often lately.  I thought back and realized that I hadn't
been paying attention.  Her touches were more frequent, and they
lingered longer.

My senses were on full throttle now.  She wanted to go on vacation
with me.  Was that just friendly concern?  Possibly, but I found it
hard to believe.  Then again, what other motive could she have?
She said to take her at face value.  It was not an easy thing to
do.  I'd lived most of my adult life dealing with people who had
ulterior motives.  Although I knew Scully cared for me, I was
afraid to believe what these signals were telling me.  Was it
possible that she wanted more from me?  Or was that reading too
much into things as well?  This was not easy stuff and I felt like
I was in the hot seat.  Pass or fail, no middle of the road

I looked up at the ceiling and whispered, "God, if you're up there,
please don't let me screw this up."

I felt the tears sting my eyelids and blinked rapidly.  Then I shut
my eyes for good, picturing Scully in her little sleeping outfit,
hoping it would be what I dreamt about if it was my last thought.

No such luck.

XXXXXXXXXX

I bolted awake to the sound of Mulder's screaming.  "AHH, NO!
You bastard!  Noooooooooooo!"

I threw off the covers, leaped out of bed and was running as my
feet hit the floor.  I nearly stumbled when I rounded the corner in
the living room.  Mulder had the blanket wound tightly around
him, pinning his arms to his sides.

I wondered how he had managed that.  He was thrashing his head
on the pillow, and his face was scrunched into a grimace of agony.

"Jesus," I whispered and hurried to his side, grabbing the edge of
the blanket and yanking it out from underneath him.  His arms
flailed wildly now that they were loose and I had to duck as one
came flying out from under the blanket and headed toward my
head.

"MULDER!" I shouted.

I tried to grasp his biceps but he was too strong and threw my arms
away easily.  I put my hand flat on his chest and shouted again,
"Mulder, wake up!"

His hands came up to cover his face as if he was protecting himself
and he whimpered, "No, no, no, no."

My heart broke wide open and I straddled his hips.  His hands
lowered a little and I grabbed his face in my hands.  "Mulder, wake
up!"

He jerked and then went completely still.  I could almost hear the
wheels grinding in his head as he tried to assess the situation and
pull himself into wakefulness.

His eyes opened slowly.  They were cloudy and unfocused and he
whispered, "Scully?"  He sounded so lost.

"Yes, Mulder.  It's me.  You were having a nightmare.  You're
awake now."  I felt stupid saying that, but I really wasn't sure if
he knew he was awake, or if he really was for that matter.

He looked confused for a second and then his arms reached out and
he pulled me to him suddenly.  His arms banded tightly and
crushed me to his torso.  He was burning up and his heat infused
me and it felt way better than it should.

"Shhhh," I cooed to him.  "I'm here."

"Don't leave me, Scully," he croaked out.

"I won't.  I'm here.  Bad one, huh?"

He nodded and I felt his lips brush my neck where he had buried
his head.  I shivered.  He seemed to realize the position we were
in and pulled back to look at my face.  A sad smile tugged at the
corners of his mouth.  "Why are you straddling me, Scully?" he
asked innocently.

I could tell he was trying for levity but it was falling flat.  I
decided to play along.  "Well, I was having trouble getting your
attention," I deadpanned.

He smiled then, a real one, and chuckled.  "Well, it worked.  I
think you should always employ this method.

I laughed with him.  He pulled me back down and my head rested
on his shoulder for a few moments.  We just sat there, enjoying the
contact.  I was realizing he was in nothing but his underwear.  I
could feel his taut abdomen below my tummy and felt something
tighten inside me.

I shifted, thinking to lift myself off of him and get into a more
acceptable position.  When I did, I felt something hard and long
press into my center.  I tried to lift, but his hand came down on
my low back and pressed me into his pelvis.  He groaned loudly, not
even trying to hide his erection or arousal.  "Ohhh, gooddd,
Scully."

I gasped.  "Mulder?"

His head dropped to the crook of my neck and his nose began
rooting around at my hairline.

I could feel his hot breath on my neck and I stiffened, trying not
to shudder.

"Mulder, what are you doing?"

He didn't answer me.  I felt his lips touch down on the tender skin
below my ear.  Then he pressed, his tongue darting out to lick my
skin and I heard the soft smack of wetness as he pursed his lips
and dragged them over my skin in a delicate kiss.

"Oh shit, Mulder, what?" I stuttered.

His hands came up and cupped my face.  His face was very close
to mine.  "I know you're upset, Mulder.  Don't do anything you'll
regret," I said, hating the squeak in my voice.

He smiled placidly and then said, "Can you take me at face value,
Scully?"

"What do you mean?"

"Can you believe that I do things just because I want to, and not
because I'm needy?"

"What are you saying? I asked again.

He leaned in until his lips were millimeters away from mine and
said, "Take this at face value."

Then he laid his mouth over mine.  I moaned and felt his lips move
firmly over mine, not demanding but asking.  "Oh God," I
whimpered when he broke the kiss.

I opened my mouth to speak and his hand appeared from nowhere
and two fingers pressed into my lips.  "No, don't analyze.  Don't
think," he whispered.

"But," I began.

He slid his fingers away and replaced them with his mouth.  His
tongue insistently stabbed at my teeth and ran along my gum line.
I moaned again and involuntarily opened my mouth.  His tongue
darted into my mouth and made lazy laps and rolls over my tongue
as he explored the far reaches of my mouth.

I was melting.  Holy shit, I was melting.  My body was betraying
me, having gone boneless on his slightly elevated chest.  What was
going on here?  Did he need comfort sex?  Could I do that and then
walk away?

I summoned all my resources and brought my hands to his chest
and pushed myself up.  I forgot where I was sitting and this
pressed me into his now throbbing erection that was wedged between
my legs, pressing into me from my anus to my pubic bone.  We both
moaned.  "Mulder, please.  I don't think I can do this.  It feels
great, don't get me wrong, and I know you need comfort but we
need to talk about this."

He looked down and closed his eyes slowly.  "This isn't comfort
sex, Scully.  I'm not looking for a pity fuck," he said harshly.

"No, Mulder.  Don't be angry.  Please!" I cried, feeling tears
threaten again.

I saw his face soften.  "I'm sorry, Scully.  That was out of line.
I thought," he said, cutting himself off.

"What?" I whispered.

"I thought things were changing between us," he said after a few
moments of silence.

My eyes got wide.  "They are, sort of, I mean, we're learning to
talk to each other," I commented.

He nodded and shifted.  I noticed his erection hadn't abated in the
slightest.  It felt so big.  "Oh shit.  Scully, you have to move
off of me," he choked out and saw him withdraw from me, literally.

His arms fell from my sides, his pelvis pulled back, pushing into
the cushions to put space between our bodies.  He twisted, trying
to dump me off his lap and I felt the loss of his body heat like a
slap.  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he was murmuring.

"Mulder, don't pull away from me," I said, as I swung my legs over
the edge of the couch and sat looking at him.
 
He stared at the back of the couch.  Now he wouldn't even look at
me.  "Go back to bed, Scully.  I'm fine now.  Thank you for waking
me up."

I felt a pain lance through my chest at the look of total rejection
on his face.  "Mulder, I'm not saying no."

His head whipped around to look at me.  "Then what the fuck are
you saying, Scully?"  Now he was angry.

"I'm saying I want to talk about it first."

"Why?  What is there to talk about?  I want to be with you, you
don't want to be with me, that way.  Simple.  I get it.  It was too
much to ask for anyway.  I just, you were in my lap and I, oh shit,
I lost control," he babbled.

"Mulder, you're wrong.  I just want to make sure we do this for the
right reasons.  If we cross this line, there is no going back."

He finally met my gaze.  He looked so sad and hurt.  "Why do you
think I want to be with you?"

I shook my head slightly.  "I'm not sure.  You're always
traumatized after these cases, and it's perfectly normal to want
the intimate contact.  It reminds people they are alive and not
like the monsters they chase.  I understand it, but for me, it's
about more than that.  I can't just do that and then go back to the
way things were."  I was talking rapidly now, afraid I wouldn't get
it out otherwise.

He was staring at me like I had two heads.  "I told you I wasn't
looking for a pity fuck."

"I didn't think you were.  Comfort doesn't equal pity."

"I wasn't looking for a comfort fuck either," he said harshly.  He
was very angry, but hiding it well.

"What were you looking for then?"

He looked at his lap.  He was silent so long I didn't think he was
going to answer me.  He finally looked up at me again.  "You
really don't get it, do you?"

I started to shrug my shoulders and then shook my head.  "I'm
scared, Mulder."

His countenance softened a little.  "I can understand being afraid
to be with me."

"No, that's not what I'm afraid of.  I don't want to ruin what we
have.  I don't want to do something for the wrong reasons.  It
could ruin us, Mulder."

He licked his lips and I wanted to suck on that bottom one in the
worst way.  I shook my head.  "God, I can fuck up a wet dream,"
he muttered.

"You didn't answer my question," I reminded him.

"What was it again?"  He asked this as he tossed off the blanket
completely and stood up, reaching for his slacks that were lying on
the table.

"What were you looking for?  What are you doing, Mulder?  Sit
down.  Please talk to me."

"You don't get it, so there's nothing to talk about.  I appreciate
the comfort and concern, Scully."  He yanked his jeans on up over
his hips and reached for his shirt.

"Mulder, please!"

"Please what?  I'm going home, Scully.  I can't be around you right
now."

"God, that hurts," I blurted out.

He stopped in the act of shoving his hands into the sleeves of his
shirt.  "I don't mean to hurt you, Scully, but so help me God, you
have no idea how much you just hurt me."  This last was said
through clenched teeth.

"Help me understand, Mulder.  Jesus, why is this so hard for us?"

"Because you think I have ulterior motives.  You're doing the very
thing you asked me not to do.  You can't take me at face value and
believe my motives are pure."

"That's not true.  I just want to know for sure what they are.
What are you looking for?"

He pulled his shirt one and buttoned the bottom three buttons,
leaving the rest hanging open.  His chest was gorgeous.  He picked
up his suit jacket but didn't put it on.  He walked to the door.

"Mulder, please don't leave!" I cried out.

He turned with his hand on the doorknob.  "I'm looking for love,
Scully.  I'm looking for love."

Then he turned on his heel and walked out, closing the door quietly
behind him.

I couldn't stop the tears now.  They came in a flood and I sobbed,
covering my face with my hands even though no one was there to
see me.  Unconsciously, my body began to rock, trying to comfort
itself.  Jesus, how badly had I screwed that up?  I'd wanted to be
intimate with Mulder for so long, even though the idea of it scared
me shitless.  He finally makes a pass at me, and I have to go all
analytical on him.  Typical.  What would be so wrong with comfort
sex anyway?  Now that I thought about it, I wondered why I had
such a hard time accepting what he offered.

Love, he was looking for love.  I should have known that.  I know
he loves me.  What I didn't know was if he was in love with me.  If
he wasn't, I didn't think I could stand the broken heart.  I
briefly considered going after him.

Finally, I decided we both needed to think this through before we
talked again.  We would talk though.  I would not let him get away
from this conversation.  I couldn't help it if I needed reassurance
from him.  He wanted me to know without his saying that he
wasn't looking for comfort or pity or just a band-aid to feel good
and forget for a while.  How was I supposed to know that?

Because it was Mulder.  He'd had almost seven years in which to
make a pass at me, ask me for comfort sex, ask me for pity fuck,
ask me to just let ourselves feel good for while.  He'd never
asked.  Why was that?  The answer slammed into me like a freight
train.  He was in love with me.  He only wanted to do it when the
time was right and ... for the right reasons.  Jesus, I could be a
brick sometimes.

XXXXXXXXXX
PART 3 (NC-17)
FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT
42 HEGAL PLACE
ARLINGTON, VA
SATURDAY MORNING

I got up and showered, feeling like I'd been run over by a Mac
truck.  This double-o-seven shit tired me out.  I sighed.  I was
lying to myself.  Denial, thy name is Mulder.  Yes, the case had
tired me out.  This utter exhaustion of body, mind, and spirit was
not because of the case.  It was because of Scully.

I felt the tears rise and I let them come, the shower washing them
away.  I loved her so much it hurt sometimes.  Why didn't I just
answer her question?  It was a legitimate one.  Why did I feel the
need to be so fucking cryptic or evasive?  Especially with her?

I wanted her to know me.  I wanted to know that she trusted me
with that too, that she would trust me with her heart.  The fact
that she would think I would ask for intimacy with her for anything
other than love had stabbed through me.  What kind of a man did
she think I was?

A normal one.  For all my weirdness, Scully thought I was a man,
and most men had no hesitation asking for comfort sex, or even a
pity fuck.  They would take it where they could get it.  Any port
in a storm was the old saying and many men lived by that.

The fact that Scully thought I was like that hurt beyond belief.
When I got out and dressed pouring some cereal and eating at the
kitchen counter, I realized I was being an ass.

She wasn't a fucking mind reader.  I hadn't said I loved her.  She
was trying to comfort me from a nightmare and I suddenly get a
boner like a pipe and start mauling her.  It had to surprise her.
I'd never done anything like that before.  What the hell was I
thinking?  I'd just had a nightmare.  What was she supposed to
think?

I hung my head in shame, wondering if I should bother putting on
a shirt.  I felt like I could go right back to bed.  That's when
the doorbell rang.  "Shit," I cursed out loud.

"Go away!" I hollered, feeling particularly surly.

"Mulder, it's me," came the soft reply.

I sighed, not wanting to have this conversation right now.  I
needed to think this through some more.  I needed to grow a thicker
skin, was what I needed to do, I thought suddenly.  Why did it
still surprise me when Scully acted like Scully, wanting facts and
evidence?  It was one of the things that I loved about her.  It was
also one of things that made me want to wring her neck.

I walked slowly to the door, feeling a sense of dread descend upon
me.  I had no idea what to expect from her at this point.  Was she
upset?  Was she boiling mad?

I took a deep breath and opened the door.  She stood there waiting
patiently, her fingers laced together in front of her, looking at
the floor.  She looked up at me from under her lashes, almost
looking shy and I felt something warm spread through my chest.
Then I realized her eyes were traveling up and down my chest.  I
felt my nipples harden and cleared my throat.  "Come in," I said
unsteadily and stepped back so she could enter.

She entered, looking tentative, something I was unused to seeing in
Scully.  She was such a decisive woman, so strong.  Look what I'd
reduced her to.  Shit.  "Have a seat," I said belatedly.

She nodded and walked over and sat down on the couch, still not
having said a word.

I asked, "You want some coffee?  I have it made."

She nodded.

I retreated into the kitchen and fixed us both a big mug of coffee.
I carried them into the living, approaching her carefully.  I set
hers down on the coffee table and cradled mine in my hands, so I
would have something to do with them.

I sat in my corner of the couch and said nothing.  I wasn't sure
what to say.  Was she waiting for me to start?  She was staring off
into space and it worried me a little.  Was she going to leave me?
Walk away for good this time?

I felt pain squeeze my heart at the thought and braced myself for
the worst.  Finally, she cleared her throat and said, "Will you
please talk with me?"

"Yes," I said simply, realizing I never should have walked out on
her last night.  With a bolt of realization, I realized that was
the ultimate ditch.  I'd walked away.  When she said I ditched her,
maybe she meant emotionally, and not just physically.  That wasn't
a happy thought.

"I hurt, Mulder," she said simply.  She wouldn't look at me.  She
sat rigidly with her back held away from the backrest of the sofa.
She picked up her mug and took a sip.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Scully.  I never mean to hurt you, but
I seem to be really good at it."

Her lips tipped up in a sad smile at that comment.  "I know you
don't mean to, Mulder.  I'm not good at expressing my emotions
sometimes.  I'm good at anger, but even I know that's not healthy.
Then I have the nerve to be surprised when others don't leap at the
chance to talk about feelings with me."

"I acted like an ass, Scully.  I'm sorry.  God, I don't want to
lose you."

She looked at me then and gave me that close-lipped smile.  "You
can't lose me, Mulder.  If I was going anywhere, don't you think I
would have run a long time ago?"

I hadn't really thought of it in that light, but she had a point.
"I guess so."

"Are you afraid of that?  That I will leave you?"

"Terrified," I admitted in a whisper.

"Well, I can put that one to rest.  I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank God," I said.  It was weird to be talking like this so
calmly.  It was almost surreal.  I wondered if I was going to wake
up in a minute.  I'd expected screaming and yelling, not this numb,
quiet conversation.

"I didn't trust you, did I?" she asked suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"When you ... touched me, kissed me.  I didn't trust you.  I say I
trust you, but when it came down to the ultimate prize, I didn't
trust you."

"The ultimate prize?" I asked, slightly confused.

"Love, Mulder.  That's the ultimate prize, isn't it?  In the game
of life, there is nothing harder to get, and nothing better."

"I guess so."

"You guess so?" she asked, surprised that I would have a different
opinion.

"I've never had it," I said simply.

That caused a tear to slip out from under her eyelid and slide down
her cheek.  "Oh, Mulder."

"I don't say that for pity.  It's just a fact.  I've thought I was
in love before.  I've mistakenly thought that others loved me a
couple of times.  I was wrong, though.  Those relationships didn't
stand the test of time.  Time only revealed that they were
glittering rhinestones, not diamonds."

She smiled at my analogy.  "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," I replied.

"Do you love me?"

I gasped but didn't hesitate, "Yes.  You know I do, Scully.  How
can you even ask?"

"There's a difference between loving someone and being IN love,
Mulder."

I realized what she was asking.  I had never thought to make the
distinction with her, but there was no question in my mind.  "Yes,
I'm in love with you, Scully."

"You are?" she asked, sounding surprised.

It was my turn to smile sadly.  "Lock, stock, and barrel."

Her brows scrunched up and made that adorable worry line on her
forehead.  Her eyes asked the question, looking for reassurance.  I
realized she simply needed to hear the words.  Knowing it wasn't
enough.  She had to be sure.

I swallowed harshly.  "Yes, Scully.  The way a man falls in love
with a woman."  I paused and took a deep breath.  "I love you,
Scully.  Yes, I'm in love with you.  I hoped ... but I guess it was
too much to hope for."

It was surprisingly easy to say, and I felt like a hundred-pound
weight had been lifted from my shoulders just by saying it out
loud, acknowledging it to something or someone other than my
fevered brain.

"What was too much to hope for?" she asked.

I met her gaze.  "That you could ever love me back," I said simply,
feeling my own eyes sting with traitorous tears.  I swallowed
around the lump in my throat.

"Don't you know, Mulder?"

I kept looking at her and shrugged, suddenly feeling very
uncomfortable.  The relief I felt a few seconds ago had evaporated.
"Know what?" I croaked out.

"I love you too, Mulder.  I always have."

It was my turn to look flabbergasted.  My breathing sped up anyway
and I felt warmth diffuse my body.  "Always have?"

She smiled.  "For so long now, but I was so afraid."

"Afraid of what?" I asked.

"Rejection," she whispered.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I replied.

She smiled.  "No, I'm not kidding you."

I slid down the couch and wrapped my arms around her.  She
twisted and straddled my lap, laying her head on my chest.  I
perched my chin on her head.  "Scully, why on earth would you
think I would reject you?"

"Mulder, I'm not generally your type for one thing.  All the women
you've been with were tall brunettes with big chest and long legs.
They were also women that believed like you believe."

"All that is surface stuff, Scully.  I like that you don't always
agree with me.  It lets me know you're for real."

I felt her lips smile against my chest and sucked in my breath at
the feel of her soft lips on my skin.  "Are we all right, Mulder?"

"Yeah, Scully.  We're more than all right."

"I trust you," she said with finality.

I knew what she was saying.  She was pushing the last brick out of
the wall.  She was saying she would trust me with her heart.  I
thought mine was going to spin right out of my chest as it sunk in
what she was saying.

"I want to be with you so badly, Scully.  For the right reasons, I
promise," I said quietly.

"I want to be with you too," she said softly.  "God, I've dreamed
about it."

I gasped and stood up.  Her legs wrapped easily around my waist,
her arms grasping my shoulders.  I cupped her delicious rear end
and carried her into the bedroom.  My first time with Scully was
not going to happen on my creaky, old couch, not matter how
comfortable it might be.

She looked up at me, blinking slowly, when I let her slide down
my torso.  I knew she felt my erection brush her stomach.  For
once, I didn't care and didn't try to hide it.  She looked so
innocent, looking up at me.  I was having a slightly hard time
wrapping my mind around the fact that this was actually going to
happen.

Nothing was going to stand in my way now.  Scully was giving me
the green light and I had no intentions of asking any more
questions.  I was about to have all my dreams come true.  My heart
started to palpitate and I felt faint.

I slowly pulled her crew neck shirt up over her head and sighed at
the sight of her perky breasts encased in a cream-colored bra.  She
looked at me uncertainly as though she were afraid I would be
disappointed.  It suddenly occurred to me that Scully was no
different from any other woman in some ways.  She probably
compared herself to other women.  I couldn't imagine her being
insecure about her beauty, but there it was.  She'd even mentioned
the other women in my life.  I wasn't sure exactly to whom she was
referring, but I didn't need to know.

I reached out and unhooked the clasp at her back, looking down
over her shoulder to see what I was doing.  I stepped back and she
shrugged her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground.  She stood
there in her little Capri pants and tennis shoes and I moaned, my
eyes latching onto the sight of her bare breasts.

XXXXXXXXXX NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX

They had to be the prettiest breasts I'd ever seen.  They were
rounded and sat high on her chest.  The milky whiteness was
interrupted by her turgid nipples, coral pink but turning darker as
they stiffened in the cool air of the room.

My hands came down on her shoulders.  I bent at the waist, and
gently sucked one pencil eraser-sized nipple into my mouth.  She
groaned and I felt her knees bob   I felt a little thrill to know
that I was affecting her like this.  Seeing Scully react to me
physically was a long-held fantasy of mine.

I stepped back and hooked my thumb into the waistband of her
pants.  I pulled down, taking her matching cream panties with me.
She shyly stepped out of them and I stared.  "Jesus, you are so
beautiful, Scully."

She blushed slightly and seemed to relax under my scrutiny.  I
realized she needed my reassurance.  It was unbelievable but she
did.  Well, I wasn't going to have any problems giving it to her.

My erection was straining against my sweats.  I had not put any
underwear on and was commando.  She reached out and tugged the
drawstring, and they sagged low on my hips.  Now she knew I
didn't have any underwear on either.  Her thumbs brushed over the
area at the top of my groin where my abdomen met my thigh and I
groaned, flexing my pelvis forward.  "Oh God," I muttered.

She seemed emboldened by my reaction and slid my sweats down
my legs.  I kicked off the moccasins that I wore for slippers and
stepped out of my sweats.  My erection was huge, bigger and more
swollen than I could ever remember it being.  I didn't consider
myself overly endowed although I knew I had plenty.  Next to
Scully's petite stature, however, I looked monstrous.

She licked her lips and I thought I was going to faint.  She
reached out her hand and slid it up and down my shaft.  Now my
knees buckled and I croaked, "On the bed, Scully."

She smiled but turned and complied, climbing onto the bed on all
fours.  She was about to flip onto her back and I stopped her.
"Just like that," I said softly.  My hands ran up and down her back
until I felt her relax.  "I want to explore."

Then I cupped her little heart-bottom in both my hands and
squeezed, feeling another surge of blood into my cock.  She
gasped.  I gently coaxed her down onto her stomach and straddled
the backs of her thighs.  I kissed the back of her neck and her
shoulders.  Then I lowered myself to press against her.  Holy shit,
she was small.  My body completely covered her.

She moaned and I just lay there for a while, enjoying the feel of
my erection snugly pressed against her tiny ass.  I ground it into
the crease between her cheeks and she whimpered.

Finally I lifted up and pulled her onto her hands and knees again.
I positioned myself the same way and began to lick her juncture.
It was so small and tight and pink and I loved the tangy taste of
her.  She began to coo, "Ooo, ooo, ooo."

I gave her a tongue bath she would never forget, exploring every
crook and cranny and then I found her little bud.  I turned to lay
on my back, face up and sucked her clit into my mouth, letting my
tongue flick back and forth across it as fast as I could.

She shouted, "Christ Almighty!"  I felt her juices coat my face and
moaned.  I got out from underneath her and got up on my knees.  I
carefully turned her over onto her back as she came down from her
orgasm.

My hard-on was leaking precum at a copious rate now and was
glistening with it.  She reached out and spread it with her thumb
and I bucked into her hand.

My hands explored her thighs, her stomach, her breasts and her
neck.  When she was moaning and writhing beneath me again, I
couldn't stand it anymore.  I had to have her.  I probed her with
my finger and she was soaking wet.  I sucked her juices off my
finger and positioned my stone hard cock at her entrance.

I didn't generally consider myself a huge man, but Jesus, laying
there over Scully, I felt like a giant.  Her hands gripped my
biceps and her legs lifted as she draped them over my waist.

She was panting with anticipation.  She coaxed me, "Do it.  Love
me, Mulder."

I groaned and began to push inside her.  My cock was on fire.  I
took my weight on my elbows, but stayed on my knees, using my
legs to press her legs as wide as they would go.  I sighed as I
felt her muscle give way and close behind the head of my cock.

"Oh shit, Mulder."

"You feel like a little furnace," I commented.

She chuckled.  "Do it, give it to me."

"Jesus, that makes me hot."

"What?  My talking like that?"

"Yeah," I breathed out and began to push inside.  "So snug, Scully.
Shit, you look so small under me.  I'm sorry, but I love it."

She smiled again, not offended and said, "Whoa, I'm stretching."

I made shallow thrusts for a minute or so and then began to push
harder, feeding her a little more of me with every stroke.  I was
going slow, wanting this to last.

She whimpered and it was music to my ears.  "Ohhhhhh, Mulder.
Oh geez, oh that's good.  Never had anyone this big."

That made my ego rear its ugly head and do the wave.  Hey, I'm a
guy.  What can I tell you?  "Am I hurting you?" I asked, stopping
and resting inside her with about three quarters of my shaft
inside.

"No!  Keep going.  Don't stop.  Give me all of it.  I want it."

"Oh shit, that's so sexy," I cried and I drew back and slammed into
her.

She shrieked and I did it again, and again, feeling myself gain
ground in her little wet pussy.  Third time was the charm and I
felt my balls press into her ass.  I rocked forward, bringing her
pelvis up off the bed and pressed deep, feeling her cervix strain
over the head of my cock.

"Oh my God!" she cried.

"Hurt?" I asked again through clenched teeth.

"No!  Oh God, Mulder.  Fuck me."

I lost it completely hearing that come out of her mouth.  Made me
want to kiss it right out of her.  So I did, leaning down to take
her in a deep, wet, sloppy kiss as I began to pump myself almost
fully out and then back in to the hilt.

She began flexing her muscles and it was like her walls were
milking my cock.  We both groaned and panted and I couldn't help
speeding up.

My sperm-filled nuts drew up tight to my shaft and slapped into
her ass, sounding like the crack of a belt.  Even that turned me on
and notched my arousal higher.

"Jesus, Mulder.  Harder.  Oh shit, yeah.  Oh GOD - fuck me apart
with it!"

I growled and sweated and bit my lip to hold on.  Her nipples were
brushing my chest and I thrust as fast and hard as I could, feeling
my cock head slam into her cervix and literally bounce back.

Then I felt it.  Her tight pussy was clamping down on me as her
orgasm ripped through her belly.  "Oh yes!" she shouted.  I roared
into her ear, feeling her body trembling with aftershocks and
squeezing my engorged shaft.

My balls spasmed and I growled out in pleasure unknown to me
until that moment.  "Oh God!  I can't believe I'm coming inside
you!"

She groaned and I felt her walls shudder once more on my shaft.  I
collapsed onto her, feeling her walls gently milk my shaft.  She
was panting as hard as I was.  "That was fabulous, Mulder."

"Beyond fabulous.  I love you so much, Scully."

She cupped my face and brought me down for a gentle kiss, filled
with promise and trust.  "I love you too, Mulder.  We're going to
have a lot of fun together."

"God, I hope so," I teased.

"One thing though," she said, sounding serious.

I felt a dart of panic and tamped it down.  "What's that?"

"I think we need a change of venue."

I smiled.  "Yes, I'll go on vacation with you.  Now I know it won't
be torture, thinking of you in another room and jacking off all
week."

She laughed gaily and I joined her.  God, it felt good.  We hadn't
laughed in a long time.  "You're incredible, Scully," I murmured,
kissing her again.

"You're not so bad yourself, Mulder."

THE END OF THE WHOLE STORY.