By  mimic117
mimic117@yahoo.com
 

Date: Tue, 30 Nov 2004

Rating:  NC-17

Spoilers:  Mid-Gender Bender - written for the Fandomonium
Virtual Season of Smut Challenge

Setting:  Between the time they're run off the Kindred farm until
the next scene where they're sitting in the car, drinking coffee.

Summary:  Brother Andrew's touch lingers on.

Archive:  I'll do Gossamer and Ephemeral myself.  Anyone else
who wants it is free to filch at will.

Disclaimer:  Not mine, never will be, but I wish I'd had them
back in the day.  The series would have been a lot different.

Thanks:  To Cin for snake-strike-quick beta, a discerning eye
and laughter in all the right places.  You're very good for my
ego.

Feedback is printed out, fawned over and stroked to tatters at
mimic117@yahoo.com

Visit all my fics at the little home that XochiLuvr built.
http://www.mimicsmusings.com
Your depravity levels may vary.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gender Bent
by mimic117
 

Kindred farm
Steveston, Masschusetts

Mulder stumbled over a tree root and nearly fell -- again.  It
took every bit of dexterity he possessed to remain upright on
the rain-slick leaves.  If Scully hadn't been tucked under his
arm, helping him to balance, they'd both have ended up on the
ground a long time ago.

He shifted his arm around her shoulders and got a better grip.
She was still pretty out of it after being sick and he was
hoping to see the car soon.  Half-dragging his partner through
the dark, wet forest hadn't exactly been on his schedule for the
evening.

The Kindred had made their feelings very clear back at the
farmhouse.  It was a good thing they were a non-violent cult.
Mulder still wanted to know what Brother Andrew had done to
Scully, but he figured it wasn't worth the potential
unpleasantness to stick around and demand answers.  He
would get her to a hospital as soon as possible and have her
checked out.

"Mmmm..."  Scully pulled away from his support.  It was the
first response she'd shown since he'd gathered her up in his
arms and hustled her down the path.

Was she going to be sick again?

Her eyes still looked glazed over, but she was glancing around,
taking in their surroundings.

"You feeling better now?" he asked.

It took a moment, but her eyes finally tracked upward to his
face.  It looked like she was staring at his lips, but maybe she
was just too tired to tilt her head back farther.

"Mmmmm..."

He waited, but she didn't say anything else.  Her gaze was
locked so intently on his mouth, Mulder wondered if he had
mud on his skin.  He nonchalantly swiped his hand across his
lips, but there was nothing unusual there.

He was just about to start walking again when Scully's fingers
began burrowing between the buttons on his shirt.  She popped
the button above her hand and reached inside farther.  She
didn't seem to still be shaken after her mauling, but maybe she
needed his warmth as reassurance.

He could give her this.  They were friends.  They supported and
comforted each other.  He wouldn't let himself get turned on by
the scratch of her nails around his navel.  He wasn't going to
think about her hand caressing hot circles on his abdomen.
Keeping a lookout for possible danger would take his mind off
the fact that her fingers were digging under his waistband.

What the hell?

Scully was not only headed where no one had been in a long
time, but he suddenly realized that she was rubbing against
him in a very suggestive manner.  Apparently she was looking
for something more than a little comfort.

He tried to pull away but her hand was firmly wedged under his
belt.  "Whoa, Scully!  Isn't that getting a bit personal?"

"Mmmmmm...."  Her other hand reached for his zipper.  He
grabbed it and held on, trying to regain some control of the
situation.

This wasn't like Scully at all.  The woman he'd been working
with all year wouldn't allow herself this kind of familiarity
unless she wasn't in her right mind.  She was alive because
he'd rescued her from Brother Andrew before they did the
mattress mambo.  But what were the residual effects of the
Kindred's touch?  So far, everybody who might have come in
contact with one of their people had died.  Did breaking the
connection leave residual pheromones in the system?   Was Scully
still under the influence of the Kindred aphrodisiac?

It looked like the answer to that question was "yes."  The
fingers inside his shirt wriggled under his belt, trying to
reach lower.

She licked her lips and Mulder noticed that she was panting.
Well, so was he for that matter.  He was male, and in the hands
of a beautiful woman who appeared to have carnal designs on
his body.  Gentlemanly intentions weren't going to be enough
to keep the south from rising anymore.  The best he could do
was to get them back to the car and out of the elements.
Maybe he could figure out a way to deal with the situation once
they weren't in the open, being drenched by the dripping trees.

He directed her captive hand to the outside of his shirt and got
them started walking again.  She struggled for a moment until
she found that she could still touch him and move.  It was
awkward, but at least they were in motion.

"Come on, Scully.  The car can't be far away now."

Mulder hoped he was telling the truth.  He wasn't completely
sure they were on the right path, but it was the only one he
could see in the watery light under the trees.

Since he was now occupied by trying to keep them moving,
Scully was having more success evading his hands.  When he
stumbled and let her go, she managed to get his belt unbuckled
and the zipper lowered.  He pulled her other hand out of his
shirt before she could take advantage of the looser fit.  She
mewled in protest, let go of his zipper, and switched hands so
she could jam one down the back of his pants.

Great.  She was groping his ass.  He might as well stop
pretending that this wasn't turning him on.

Thank goodness the waistband of his pants was still fastened
or they'd be down around his knees.  He prayed he could find
the car before she managed to get a hand inside his fly.  The
fact that he was walking faster had deflected her attempts so
far, but she still seemed pretty determined to feel him up.

Those Kindred cooties really packed a wallop.

After a few more minutes of skidding on the leaf-strewn ground,
Mulder saw light glinting off metal up ahead.

Hallelujah!  The car at last.  He breathed a sigh of relief only
to suck it back in again as Scully dove for his pants button.
He headed her off just in time.

"Look, Scully," he said in the kind of voice parents use to
distract unruly toddlers.  "There's the car.  Let's get inside
where it's dry.  Okay?"

She hummed in reply but didn't stop kneading his ass while he
hustled her over to the waiting vehicle.  He debated between
putting her in the front or rear seat while he tried to fish the
keys from his pocket without giving her another shot at his fly.
By the time he had the keys in his hand, he'd decided on the
front seat because he could not only use the seat belt to strap
her in place, he could keep an eye on her.  He wouldn't be able
to see what she was doing in the back and he didn't need the
added suspense of waiting for her to break free and jump him.
Granted, lashing her to the front seat might not stop her, either,
but it offered better odds.  He only knew there was no way he
could drive back to town if she kept trying to palm his package.

It wasn't easy to get the car door open with Scully clinging to
him like a wet leaf, but he managed.  She whimpered in protest
again when he pulled her hand out of the back of his pants and
pushed her away.  She kept trying to grab his crotch as he
steered her into the passenger seat and sat her down.  The
next part was going to be a little tricky.  He either had to lean
over her and lock the seatbelt in, or get in himself and then
lean across her to snag the belt from inside the car.  He opted
to pull the strap all the way out with one hand and hook it over
the gear shift while swatting her marauding fingers away with the
other.  He'd belt her in as soon as he tucked all her limbs into
the car and shut the door.

It only took him a moment to run around to the driver's side and
climb in.  She was already straining toward him and managed
to get one hand beneath his butt as he sat down.  He pulled it
out from under him and pushed her upright with his shoulder.
Then he used the other hand to snap the seatbelt into the lock.

"Awwww."  Her face crumpled into a frown and her chin
quivered as if she were going to cry.

He leaned away from her as she tried in vain to touch him.  The
belt kept locking up every time she lunged against it and there
wasn't enough slack to let her do more than scrabble at his
shoulder or leg.  He wasn't fooled by her inability to reach him,
though.  She was evidently still so befuddled by whatever was
in her bloodstream that it hadn't dawned on her to simply
unlock the seatbelt.  She wasn't capable of thinking beyond her
own pressing need at the moment.  But he had every
confidence in her ability to work through any puzzle, even when
tanked up on super-strength pheromones.  She'd figure it out
eventually.

It wasn't long before she stopped struggling and flopped back
into her seat.  The sound of fabric against fabric was loud in
the car as she rubbed her legs together and twisted fitfully.
"MmmmmMulder..."  It was half moan, half sigh and the sexiest
thing he'd ever heard her say.

Had she been trying to say his name all this time?  The
possibility made his dick jump.  He adjusted his crotch as
unobtrusively as possible but her eyes still followed the
movement of his fingers.  She licked her lips and he had to
stifle the urge to readjust.

What should he do?  *Should* he do anything?  Her condition
was obviously a result of the Kindred's touch, but how long
would it last?  Did she just need to wait it out?  From the look
of things, she'd have a long wait.  Did she *need* to have sex to
clear it out of her system?  That made sense based on what
they knew of the previous victims, but he couldn't even
consider it.  They were partners, not lovers, no matter how
often the thought had crossed his mind recently.  He respected
Scully too much to take advantage of her in this condition.

And what if he didn't?  Would she continue to grope him all the
way back to their motel?  Would she jump the first pimply kid
she saw on the street?

It seemed like a good bet considering the fact that she hadn't
stopped writhing and moaning since he'd put her in the car.
She kept rubbing her hands over her own body but couldn't
seem to attain any relief.  If he took her back to town like this,
he had a pretty good idea what would happen the minute the
car door opened.

He needed to do *something*.  Since they couldn't have regular
sex, then he'd have to be creative.

Oral sex?  Too intimate.  If she remembered anything about
this, she'd be mortified to know his face had been between her
legs.

What else?  Since flat-out sex wasn't a consideration, that only
left his -- his hands.

Yeah.  He could jack her off.

Mulder felt his cock swell from the mental image that conjured
up -- his hands down her pants, her sweet face twisted in
ecstasy, his name rasping from her lips as she came.

No!  This wasn't going to work if he let his fantasies run
rampant.  He needed to distance himself.  He couldn't be
permitted to derive any personal gratification from the situation.
This wasn't for his own perverted pleasure.  He was simply
giving a friend a hand.

Shit.  Bad choice of words.  Manual stimulation.  That's what
Scully would call it.  She'd do the same thing for him if their
positions were reversed.  Wouldn't she?

The thought of her sliding his hard dick between her soft hands
was almost too much for him.  He didn't know if he'd be able to
do this without coming in his pants.  That would take care of his
rapidly-increasing problem, but still....

Distance.  Distance.  Focus on creating distance.  He wasn't
making love to her, he was helping out.  It was no different than
holding her hair back when she was being sick outside the
farmhouse.  Well, maybe a *little* different.  Maybe a lot
different, actually, but if he could think of it as a medical
procedure, he'd be okay.  Concentrate on providing effective
treatment in order to promote a proper cure.

Mulder sighed.  The cure going to hurt him more than it did her.

His mind made up, he would approach the task with a
dispassionate eye, like any new case.  Study the situation,
identify the most critical elements and determine a plan of
action.

First element -- Scully was sitting on the area he needed to
access.  Well, that was easy enough to fix.

He exited the car, leaving the door ajar, and hurried around to
the passenger side.  She was staring at his vacant spot when
he opened her door and hit the level to recline the seat
cushion.  Scully flopped flat on her back with a startled "Oops!"
Mulder was already climbing into the driver's side by the time
she'd caught on to his actions and turned to her closed door.

Okay.  Plan of action -- get the best angle to do the job.

He thought about it for a moment, trying to visualize how his
fingers would be positioned, considering the possibility of
muscle cramp if it took a while to flush all the sexed-up bugs
from her system.  He finally settled on reclining his own seat
slightly so he could watch her face for clues to guide him
without having to bend backwards.  Using his right hand would
probably be most comfortable.  The angle would allow him to
slide his palm flat on her abdomen while affording his fingers
the best position for maximum contact.  The left hand would
venture nowhere near his crotch, or any parts adjacent thereto,
I solemnly swear, never happen, no way, no how.

And why did all this calm, cool deliberation make him feel like a
slobbering, trench-coat-wearing flasher?

"Mmm.  MmmmmMulder..."

Because he was going to manually stimulate his lovely,
intelligent, sexy partner until she either recovered from
whatever was ailing her, or until his arm fell off.  And the
longer he sat, trying to pretend he wasn't going to do what he
was going to do, the longer she continued to suffer from the
effects of the ailment.

Just get on with it.

He popped the side lever on his seat and tilted back three
clicks.  He leaned toward the middle of the car and reached for
the waistband of her pants.  He opened the button and gingerly
slid the zipper down, teasing the sides of her slacks apart as
much as he could and pulling her blouse out of the way.  When
his fingers brushed the bare skin of her stomach, Scully arched
high out of her seat, crying a startled "AH!" into the humid air
of the car.

God!  Mulder jumped back and banged his elbow on the door
handle.  His heart pounded in his throat as she slowly settled
down again.

Apparently she was hyper-sensitive.  Maybe that wasn't a
completely bad thing.  She might be able to rid herself of the
Kindred toxin more easily once he was able to touch her in the
right place.  But he would have to stop trying to be gentle.  Any
touch at all was going to set her off, so he might as well move
quickly and get it over with.  He'd prefer not to grope around
inside her pants, though.  Having the sights and sounds of this
night locked in his head was going to be bad enough without
the sense memory of her curls against his fingers, too.
Between the slacks and the panties -- that was as far as he'd
go.  Lord forgive him for even doing that.

He extended his hand over her body again, hovering close but
taking care not to touch her.  A deep, steadying breath and he
was as ready as he was going to be.

It was now or never.

Fast as a striking snake, he plunged his hand inside her pants,
skirting over the elastic of her underwear and down between
her legs.  He cupped his fingers around her as she reared up in
the seat, mouth open on a silent scream, eyes huge, shocked,
breath coming in gulping gasps.  There was a strange sound in
the air, a sibilant "shhh, shhh" that appeared to calm her.  She
laid back down, accepting the touch of his hand in her most
intimate place.  It took Mulder a moment to realize the noise he
heard was coming from him.  In spite of his desperate search
for clinical detachment, his brain still sought to provide
comfort.

Her trust could catch him unaware at the strangest times.  Even
after succumbing to who-knows-what kind of chemical reaction,
she continued to count on him to watch out for her.

He'd try to make sure she never regretted it.

Slowly, carefully, Mulder began to move his hand, allowing her
to adjust to the sensations.  He didn't want to drag it out any
longer than needed, but he also didn't want to seem indifferent
to her sensitivity.  Gradually, he increased the movement of his
fingers, pressing down with the heel of his hand, crooking his
palm and scratching with his nails.  He watched as she
shuddered through one orgasm after another.  Her mouth
pursed into a strained circle, soft, high-pitched "Oh"s of
delighted surprise wavered into the air around them.  He
couldn't help drinking in her wide, dilated eyes; her head,
thrashing back and forth in sensual abandon; her fists,
clenched around the seat cushion, nails digging into the foam
cover.  This was what Scully looked like in the throes of
passion.  This is what he would see if he were inside her,
stroking them both to ecstatic heights of bliss.  He suddenly
felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her, but that probably wasn't
a good idea.  For one thing, it would make what he was doing so
much more personal.  He needed to keep his perspective.
Trying to make this about love would make things messy later
on.  He was just there to help.  A special kind of service, as it
were.  Besides, the Kindred might spread their poison as much
through saliva as through touch.  He really had no way of
knowing for sure, and if he caught this nookie disease, too,
they'd be in seriously deep shit.  He was having enough trouble
denying himself release without the help of hyper-charged
hormones.

After fifteen minutes, he started to wonder how much longer
she could stand the stimulation.  She definitely seemed to be
getting some relief, but it didn't look like there was any
diminishing of her need.  In fact, the increasing volume of her
cries seemed to indicate that she was building toward some
kind of major event.

He seriously considered stopping what he was doing and
hauling her off to the nearest hospital.  Before he could make
up his mind, Scully's wildly darting eyes suddenly locked with
his and Mulder knew a moment of panic.  He'd never seen her
look at him that way before.  Feral.  Ravenous.  Like a starving
person gazing at the only speck of food available.

Before he could process what was happening, she'd unlatched
her seatbelt and leaned sideways into his lap.  He looked down
and realized that she'd capitalized on a major strategical error
on his part.  He'd been so busy getting her into the car and
deciding what to do next that he'd forgotten to zip up again.
His belt was hanging open, the sides of his fly gaping in
invitation.

Dammit dammit, STUPID!

Scully didn't seem to be as worried as he'd been about taking
advantage.  She was already dragging his steel-hard cock out
of his pants while he was still trying to sort out the sequence
of events.  He hissed as she gripped the base of his dick, leaned
over and engulfed him with her hot, wet mouth.

"Nuh -- No, Scu -- No, no, stop -- Scul --"

Godgodgodgodgodgoodgoodsogoodsogood it felt so good so
perfect so Scully please make it last make it last make it last
not gonna last can't last no no nononononono....

He wasn't supposed to get pleasure from this he wasn't he
shouldn't but he couldn't help it he just couldn't help it not
with her hot mouth sliding and her strong tongue flicking and
her lips stretched so wide over him and the noises she was making
the humming and moaning and wet wet sounds of sex of sex of sex
with Scully Scully Scully...

His hand was still inside her pants, trapped by her bent hips as
she slurped up and down, up and down his painfully hard
length.  He didn't want to come he didn't he didn't but he knew
he couldn't hold on.  He tried but it was hopeless.  And Scully
obviously hadn't had enough yet, needed more, so much more,
from him.  All he could give her was his touch.  He wasn't
allowed to give her anything else, not yet.  So he did what he
could, grinding the heel of his hand against her pubic bone,
hoping he could hit the right spot, jamming his fingers as far as
he could reach between her legs, pressing the swollen flesh
under her soggy panties.  He reached around with his other
hand and palmed her breast, squeezing the firm mound, feeling
the hard peak inside her bra as he pinched it between his
thumb and forefinger.

He hoped it would be enough.  It was all he had to give.

Her shriek of release was muffled by his cock, but she didn't let
go of him.  Instead, she sucked harder as she cried out her
pleasure, coming around him, under him, against his fingers,
shaking and keening, her moans and screams vibrating against
his engorged penis until he couldn't hold back any longer.

He let go of her breast and tried to push her head away, but
she wouldn't move.  He'd never yet forced a woman to swallow
while giving head, but it looked like he wouldn't have any
choice.  There was no way he could stop it.  He could feel
every one of her teeth on his skin, her soft lips, the swirl of
her tongue as it ran over the veins, her mouth pulling at the
head of his prick, sucking and sucking and driving him mad.  His
fingers and toes tingled.  Sweat rolled down the side of his face
as he gasped each breath.  His gut clenched in readiness.  He
closed his eyes, the better to experience every wonderfully
painful second.

She cupped his balls through his slacks and stars exploded
behind his eyes.  It was like free falling.  Like sky diving.
Like rocketing into the stratosphere without breath enough to
shout.  It was the most fantastic feeling in the world.

And it was over far too soon.

When he could breathe again, Mulder opened his eyes and
looked down.  Scully was lying quietly with her head in his lap,
nuzzling his softening penis and apparently no longer under the
Kindred's spell.  The close proximity of her face to his cock
jolted him to his senses like a deluge of icy rain water down the
back of his neck.

He gently helped her back into her seat.  Straightening her
body out relieved the stranglehold on his other hand, so he was
able to remove it from her pants and shake the circulation back
into it.  Then he pulled his slacks outward at the zipper until
his flaccid penis slipped back inside the fly.  For some reason,
being covered again made him feel more in control.  It probably
involved some Freudian shit about sexual vulnerability, but he
didn't care about that at the moment.  All he knew was that he
needed to get out of the car -- right NOW.

Mulder opened the door, clambered awkwardly into the damp
night on rubbery legs, then slammed it shut again.  He checked
to make sure he was securely tucked out of the way before
zipping shut.  The unbuckled belt clanked as he paced beside
the car, three steps forward, three steps back along the side of
the door.  He ran his fingers through his hair and looked down
at his disheveled clothes.

What the hell had just happened here?

A bark of laughter burst from his mouth, cracking off the
surrounding trees.

He knew what had happened.  It hadn't been *that* long.  But
what had just HAPPENED?  This wasn't supposed to be about
his pleasures, his needs and desires.  He'd made a conscious
decision to help out a friend in unusual circumstances.  Had
Scully also made a conscious choice when she'd --

Nope.  Best not to go there, really.  But he couldn't stop
thinking about it.  Not yet.  The sensations were too new, too
raw, too wonderful to be put aside so easily.  He wanted the
chance to savor every detail, lock it into his memory in a
special place so he could take it out from time to time and revel
in it again.

But he didn't have that option right now.  He didn't even know
what condition she was in -- whether his "help" had rid her
system of the Kindred toxin or made matters worse.

He bent down and looked inside the car.  She seemed to be
asleep, leaning against the passenger door.  For all he knew,
she could be unconscious, but she looked okay.  Her breathing
was even and deep, like she had just dozed off.

This was good.  Right?  She was probably sleeping off the after
effects of the... thing they just did.  He didn't want to name it
for fear his body would spring into action again.

Mulder stood and tucked his shirt back into his pants.  He
buckled his belt, pleased to note that his legs felt solid again
and his heart had stopped racing.  All systems seemed to be in
stand-down mode.  It was probably safe for him to get back in
the car and get them the hell out of Dodge.

At least he wouldn't be driving all the way back to town with his
boner bumping against the steering wheel.

He scrubbed his hands over his face and froze.

Jesus!  The smell of her was still on his fingers.

An involuntary inhale was underway before he could stop it.
He held his breath as soon as he realized what he was doing,
but it was too late.  Scully's scent was now swirling through his
nasal passages and into his lungs.  It prickled in his sinuses
and exploded into his brain.  This was *Scully*!  He'd never be
able to forget her fragrance no matter how hard he tried.

So what was the point in trying?

He took another healthy whiff, then yanked open the car door
and climbed into the seat.  They really needed to get out of
there.  He had to wash his hands before he sniffed all the skin
off his fingers.

If he was really lucky, he might get a chance to experience that
scent again sometime, a little closer and in more detail.  Until
then, memory would have to be enough.

Mulder started the car and looked over at his oblivious partner.
She didn't move when he gently zipped up her slacks and
belted her back in, but she didn't feel cold or clammy either.
It looked like she was down for the count, sleeping off the
endorphin rush.  He put the car in reverse and backed around
until they were pointed toward town again.

Scully slept beside him all the way back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steveston Kafe
 

Mulder shook the water from his hands and stared at himself in
the men's room mirror.

She didn't remember.  She said she was fine, not sick or
feeling ill at all, didn't want to go to the hospital, but she
couldn't remember a thing.

As they headed back into town, he'd decided that some coffee
was in order if for no other reason than he needed a different
aroma in his nose.  The one currently residing there was
making him crazy.  When he'd pulled up at the Steveston Kafe
("Koffee, Kakes and Pies to Go"), Scully jerked awake as the
car came to a stop.

"Where are we?" she'd asked with a touch of panic in her voice.

"We're back in town," he'd answered, not willing to commit
beyond the obvious yet.

"What are we doing?  How did we get here?  Where are the
Kindred?"

So many questions.  He was completely thrown off by the
implications and wasn't entirely sure how to answer any of
them.  So he asked one of his own.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Splitting up at the barn and Brother Andrew asking to speak to
her -- that's as far back as her memories went.  She didn't
remember going up to the man's room or being mauled by him.
She didn't remember anything he might have told her about
who the murderer was.

He thought Scully would be embarrassed by her lack of self
control, so he'd been ready with soothing reassurances and
platitudes as needed.  He never expected her to be totally
blank on the whole event.  She'd been pretty out of it ever
since they left the farmhouse but he was sure she'd at least
remember enough to know what her own partner had done to
her.  For her.

Now he wasn't sure if he wanted her to remember or not.

He'd enjoyed giving her pleasure in the car, watching her face,
hearing her cries.  Really enjoyed it, even before she'd
reciprocated and he'd nearly lost his mind.  Maybe he'd
enjoyed it too much.  Being involved with Scully would not only
complicate their partnership, it would take time away from other
things.  Important things.  Like finding his sister and exposing
the alien conspiracy.  He wanted to be closer to her.  He did.
But now might not be the best time.  All things considered, it
was just as well that she didn't remember.

Still, there was a part of him that wanted to throw itself on the
floor and pitch a tantrum over what couldn't be.

Well, now was not the time for that either.

Mulder dried his hands and straightened his tie.  He pulled his
shoulders back, looked himself in the eye and nodded.  Much
better.  Just get on with the investigation and put this incident
out of mind -- at least until he was home alone.  No one could
hold him accountable for the things that happened in his
imagination as long as they didn't know about it.  And he'd
make damned sure no one found out -- especially Scully.

He exited the restroom, brushing past the man waiting to enter
with a murmured "Excuse me."  Glancing out the front window
of the shop, he located the car parked at the curb.  Scully sat
motionless in the passenger seat, staring at the people passing
with blank eyes.  He watched her for a moment and then
walked to the counter next to the cash register.

"Two coffees to go, please."

What happened out in the woods would be his secret for now.
There was no other choice.  Maybe, someday, he'd be able to
share it with Scully, sometime in the future when they could be
together as more than partners.  But not now.  Not for a long
time, perhaps.

"Here you go, sir."  The perky little blonde smiled as she
handed over the Styrofoam cups and he smiled back
automatically as he took them.

Then he walked out the door and back to the car.  Back to his
partner.

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