By Donnilee
Donnilee@snet.net

RATING:        NC-17
WARNING:       Descriptive sex. Smut.  Please, no one
               under 17.
CATEGORY:      MSR /ANGST
POSTING:       ANYWHERE - But Please make sure my name and
               e-mail address are on it and inform me by
               e-mail of the location.  Thank you.
SUMMARY:       A computer password opens some doors heretofore
               Closed between our dynamic duo.
SPOILERS:      Little spoiler here and there for almost
               everything.  Never Again, Tooms, Fight the
               Future, Millennium, Cancer Arc
DISCLAIMER:    Nope.  Not mine.  Used shamelessly and
               without remorse, as I think that we fanfic
               writers do a better job with them anyway!  But
               alas, they belong to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen
               and Fox Studios, and god knows who else, but not
               me.  Nobody's making any pennies in this
               household!
 
 

Rating:  PG-13
FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT
WEDNESDAY EVENING
6:00 PM

Dana Scully used her key to enter her partner's apartment.
Mulder had been sent to consult on a serial rapist case in
Atlanta, Georgia.  There was no need for her to go, the
autopsies were being taken care of, so she had stayed
behind and tried to plow through the backlog of paperwork
in the basement office of the Hoover Building.

She'd gotten a lot done with Mulder gone.  It was amazing
how much better she could concentrate in that office when
he wasn't around.  Oh, it wasn't his fault he was total eye
candy, but it was distracting.  It wasn't his fault that
her eyes would continuously stray to him when he was
sitting there behind his desk.  It wasn't his fault that
she would become mesmerized by the sight of his tongue
licking the salt from a sunflower seed, his teeth cracking
the tiny shell and his lips and tongue deftly retrieving
the tiny morsel of meat, as his lips pursed.  Those pursed
lips were a killer.

It had become increasingly difficult to employ her protective
denial in regard to the attraction that she felt for her
partner.  Her feelings for him seemed to surge up at
inopportune moments lately.  He'd been gone three days and
this time, she wasn't even trying to avoid the feelings of
displacement at his absence.  She missed him dreadfully.
He had called her Monday and Tuesday evening, just to talk and
let her know how the case was going.  He had not called her yet
today but she knew he would, probably later.  She looked
forward to it.  She counted on it.  It was comforting just to
hear his voice on the other end of the phone.

She dropped some food into the fish tank and then stood
looking around.  She was being seized with an incredible
urge to snoop.  She was an investigator after all.  She
giggled at the lame justification.  There was a tape
sticking out of the VCR.  The XXX on the border verified
that it was one of the videos he didn't own.  Wonder what
it was?  She'd never really bothered to look at the titles.
I wonder what kind of women he likes to watch?  Or if he
doesn't care?  Probably tall, leggy brunettes.

Fowley bitch types.  That was a very uncharitable thought,
she knew, especially since the woman was dead and no longer
competition.  Competition?  But she couldn't help thinking
of her as "the bitch" to this day.  She'd never trusted
her.  When she realized how much she'd hurt Mulder, she
hated her.  When she discovered her duplicity, she had
loathed her.  Without thinking, she grabbed the end of the
tape and removed it from the VCR, flipping it up to read
the title.  She gasped at the title, "Feisty, Fiery
Redheads."

She froze as she took in the implications of this tape.
Redheads?  Did he like redheads?  Or just her?  No, he
liked brunettes.  Didn't he?  The thought that he was as
attracted to her as she was to him made her suddenly flush.
He was so quick with the innuendo but she figured that was
his way of flustering her and keeping her on her guard, to
see if she could play with the boys.  It seemed to amuse
him to no end.  Maybe that wasn't what it as all about
after all.  Maybe his innuendo was not about his personal
amusement.

She dropped the tape and it crashed to the floor as her
cell phone rang and startled her guiltily out of her
reverie.  Her heart was still pounding against her rib cage
as she fumbled in her trench coat for her phone.  She hit
the "Talk" button.

"Scully."  <Shit, I sounded out of breath.>

"Scully, you O.K.?"  Mulder concerned voice rumbled into
her ear.

"Yeah, Mulder, Hi."

"You sound winded."

"Phone just startled me."

"Oh, O.K.  Look, I need your help again.  It's a big favor
but could you go to my apartment and call me from there?"

"I'm actually in your apartment as we speak."

"You're in my apartment?"

"Is there an echo in here?" she teased.

He chuckled.  "How come?  Not that I mind.  You're right
where I want you."

"For someone with your memory, you're hopeless, Mulder.
What do I always do when you are out of town without me?"

"Oh yeah, you're feeding my fish.  And they thank you by
the way.  Poor little buggers don't stand a chance without
you."

"Yes, I'm feeding the fish and what do you mean 'right
where I want you'?"

"I need you to get me something off my computer.  I see
some similarities down here to another case I worked on in
1996."

"O.K., hold on."

They were silent while she sat at his desk and booted up
the computer.  She typed in the password, 'TrustNo1', and
waited.  She was surprised when an error message popped up.
<Incorrect password, try again>.

"Mulder, you changed your password?  I just put in TrustNo1
and it's telling me its incorrect.  Do you spell out the
'1' now or something?"

She couldn't be sure but she thought she heard him mutter,
"Oh, shit, I forgot," under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Uh, look Scully, maybe I don't need this old profile right
now.  I can get Frohike to fax it to me.  He's got all of
my stuff backed up on Colorado Tape back up.  I'll just
call him.  Thanks anyway."

"Mulder, what's the matter?"

"Nothing, I just don't need to bother you with this right
now, it's not urgent."

"You don't want to give me your password, do you?"

She knew she sounded hurt but she couldn't help it.  She
thought he trusted her.  He always said that he trusted
her, but when it came down to it, maybe he didn't.

"It's not that Scully, not exactly, not the way you mean."

"You don't trust me with your password?  I figured out the
old one so you changed it?"

"That's not why I changed it."

"Then why?"

"I change it every month, like clockwork.  I'm paranoid,
remember?"  His chuckle sounded forced as he tried to put
himself down with humor to evade the issue.  Nice try,
Mulder.  He was avoiding her question.  Well he wasn't
going to get away with it.  Not this time.

"Mulder, do you trust me or not?"

"Of course I trust you.  How could you think that I don't?
This has nothing to do with trust."

"This has everything to do with trust, Mulder!  If you
trust me, you'll give me the damn password and let me help
you!"  She was practically shouting now and knew she
sounded like a shrew.

Silence.

Then quietly, "Scully, I don't want to tell you because it
will embarrass me, not because I don't trust you.  And you
are the last person on earth I want to be embarrassed in
front of because you're the only one that I lo... I give a
damn what you think, Scully."

<What had he been about to say?>  She let out a breath she
hadn't realized she was holding and suppressed the urge to
laugh.  He was embarrassed?  What the hell was this
password anyway?

"What Mulder?  Is it something obscene?  I promise not to
be offended."  Silence.  "Mulder, come on."

"Scully, I ..."

"Just tell me, Mulder, How bad can it be?"

"Really, really bad."

Now it was her turn to be silent.  Did she want to push it?
She was relieved that he wasn't holding back because of
lack of trust.  But what could be that embarrassing?  His
dick size?  That would be interesting.  She almost giggled
at the thought but tamped it down in light of his obvious
agitation.

"Mulder, what if I promise to have absolutely no reaction
and never to mention it."

"Can you promise not to take it the ... wrong way?"

"The wrong way?  I don't even know what we are talking
about here!"  There was a heavy sigh on the other end of
the phone.  "Mulder ... please," she asked softly.

"O.K., remember, you were warned."  He paused. "Here goes.
Initial caps, no spaces, O.K.?"

"Yeah.  O.K. What is it?"

"SexyRedHead," he whispered.

Despite her promise not to react, she gasped right into the
mouth piece of the phone.  Holy Shit!  She was instantly
breathing shallow.  She shook her head, remembering her
promise.  Her hands shook as she clumsily typed
'SexyRedHead' into the window.

She had to say something.  Her voice came out as a whisper,
all she could manage right now as the implications of the
tape and now this whirled through her head.

"O.K., Mulder.  I'm in, what's the name of the folder?"
She couldn't be sure but she thought she him sniffle like
he was ready to cry.  Her urge to comfort him and lessen
his embarrassment allowed her to find her voice.  In a firm
voice, she said, "Mulder, it's O.K.  What's the name of the
folder?"  She decided to try a little joke, "Christ, you've
a got a list a mile long and a foot deep here!"

His voice was still soft and slightly muffled, "Folder is
VCS96."

She scrolled down and clicked on the folder and saw a row
of files appear.  The files names were nothing but numbers,
no names.  My God, he had them logged by Case Number!  What
must it be like to have a photographic memory?

"I'm in."  Her voice was stronger now.

"Open up 072996."

She clicked.  "Done."

"Can you print it out and fax it to me at this number?"

"Yeah."  She set it to print and grabbed a pen from the
coffee mug on the desk and a post it note.  "Shoot, what's
the fax number?"

"1-877-567-0024."

"I'll send it right away, O.K.?  Are you at the fax now?"

"It's on the other side of the room.  I'm in the Atlanta
Field Office.  I'll go over there and wait for it."

"Do you want to stay on the line until it comes through?"

"No, that's O.K.  I'll call if I don't get it all."  He
still sounded weird.  He was anxious to hang up.  He was
obviously still embarrassed.

"O.K.  And Mulder?

"Scully, I'm sorry if ..."

She cut him off.  "I assume you are referring to me in this
password or it wouldn't have embarrassed you."  She was
forgetting her promise not to mention it.

"Yeah, I am.  Look, I shouldn't have ..."

Her voice was back to breathy again.  "Do you really think
I'm sexy?"  Her surprise was evident in her voice.  He was
silent a moment and then he murmured into the phone.

"Scully, you're the sexiest woman I've ever known."

"Mulder?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm glad you think so."  Her voice was low but even now.

"You are?"  His voice actually cracked.  How cute!

"Yeah, 'cause ... um..."

"Cause why, Scully?"

Now or never Dana!  "'Cause I think you're incredibly damn
sexy yourself."

This time she did hear his mumble, "Holy Shit."  She
smiled, waiting.  She loved to take him off guard.  Would
he continue this tease?  "Scully?"

His voice had dropped at least an octave and it sent a
shiver down her spine.  She was sure she'd never quite
heard that tone before, although she'd heard something
close to it on the phone late at night and remembered how
sexy it sounded.  Now she was sure it was the voice of
desire.  She shivered a little.

"What Mulder?"

"Fax this profile to me.  Hang up.  Open the 'Journal'
folder on my computer.  Under that there are entries by
date."  She was scrolling through as he spoke looking for
the folder.  Her heart was beating a little faster.  What
was he going to tell her to do.  "Open the last entry and
read it.  I wrote it the day before I left for Atlanta."

"OhKaay."  What was this all about.  He wanted her to read
a private journal entry?

"Scully, I'm taking the biggest chance of my life.  I'm
going to trust you with something I've never trusted anyone
else with.  And I'm going to trust you to still be there
for me when I get back on Saturday."

"Still be here?  What are you talking about?  Of course
I'll still be here."

"I hope so."

"You're scaring me."

"Don't be scared. I'm the only one that needs to be
scared."

"Why are you scared?"

"You'll see.  Just read it.  I'll call you when I get back
on Saturday.  You said I didn't trust you.  Well, I'll
prove that I do."

"Mulder, you don't need to do this.  I shouldn't have
assumed ..."

"Later Scully, thanks for the fax."

"Mulder, WAIT!"

He didn't hang up.  "What?"

"What are you trusting me with?"

There was a long pause and then he just said, "Me."  And he
hung up.

**

Dana stared at the phone for a few seconds and then grabbed
the 5 page profile out of the printer and placed it in the
fax machine on the other side of the desk, punching in the
phone number he'd given her.  She watched until the display
confirmed that it had been sent.  She went back to sit in
front of the computer, suddenly apprehensive.  She felt
like she was invading his privacy.  His journal.

What the hell was going on here?  What was he trusting her
with?  Was it something horrible he'd done in the past that
she wouldn't approve of?  Or was it something recent?  Her
mind started to take flight with all the possibilities.
Had he been compromised by one of their enemies?

It must be serious if he was afraid she wouldn't talk to
him about it.  Serious is he thought she would leave him
over it.  She'd questioned his trust in her and now he felt
like he had to prove it.  She felt guilty for thinking he
didn't trust her.  She felt guilty for automatically
assuming that had been the problem.  He was trusting her
with "Me," he said.

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, she thought and
clicked on the folder after closing out the profile.
The last file was indeed a six digit date from three days
ago.  She hesitated and then opened the file and began to
read.
 
 

Rating:  R
FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT
WEDNESDAY EVENING
7:00 PM

JOURNAL ENTRY 042300

Where the hell is it written that I should end up this way?
Who decided that I would come to this point, utterly alone,
obsessed with a quest that would probably never be
completed.  Here I am, riddled with mysteries and puzzles
and questions that will probably never be answered.  That
is where I was at so long ago and where I am today, but
some things have changed.

I am considered a complete nut job by most of my colleagues
despite my genius I.Q. and previous accomplishments in VCS
as a criminal profiler.  Because of an overwhelming
obsession to figure out what happened to my sister 27 years
ago, I am considered off my rocker, unstable, weird ...
spooky.   Spooky because I believe in the paranormal.
Spooky because I believe in the existence of intelligent
life on other planets.

<He's so hard on himself the way he feeds into these
ignorant people's opinions.  They hate whatever they don't
understand. It isn't fair the hand he's been dealt.>

I had become so depressed and so cynical that it was truly
amazing anyone could stand my company anymore.  I was
resigned to a life of shadows and loneliness.  Then, the
impossible happened.  It was seven years ago that a 5'2"
redhead with a medical degree, a skeptical attitude and a
badge walked into my office with a mission.  A mission to
debunk my work.

Not only was she sporting a rigid belief in science, a
logical mind that would frighten anyone off their game, but
she had a faith, or at least, she claimed to be raised a
Catholic.  What did this mean for me and my life?  Well,
certainly not at all what I expected it would mean at the
time.  She has been through hell and back with me.  We have
both lost our idealism and our childish belief in real
justice.  We are both scarred, weary, but still determined
to find the truth.  I thought she would be the end of my
career.  She represented the end of my search for my sister and
the end of my quest for the truth.

<This is about me!>

Instead, she has become my life.  She is interwoven so
completely into the fabric of my being that I literally
cannot function without her.  She has become by best
friend, and so much more.

She is to me as breathing is to survival.  Without her, I
cannot think properly.  Without her, I cannot go on.  And
most importantly, without her, there is no love in my life,
no comfort.  She is the light to my dark.  She is the love
to my hate.  She is caution to my recklessness.  She
balances me in every way.  She is the only woman I have
ever loved.  I had thought I loved before, but I was wrong.
I didn't know what love was, not really.  She is the only
woman that I have ever been IN LOVE with.  And I know in my
heart, the only woman I will ever love in this lifetime.

<Oh my God, Mulder!>

So then, Mr. Psychologist Extraordinaire, why can't you
tell her what she means to you?  FEAR.  Plain and simple.
Fear that she does not love me in return.  Fear of seeing
her walk out of my life, unable to work with me knowing how
I feel.  Fear of seeing pity in her eyes instead of
desire.  That would be the worst.  It's so typical of me.
So Mulder.  I go and fall in love with the one woman on the
planet I can't have, can't touch.  Yes, I have fallen
completely in love with my partner.

<You can touch me.  I wouldn't be able to stop you. How
would he know that Dana?>

My feelings are a paradox.  I love her, I lust after her
body, I respect her.  But I love her mind, her capacity for
compassion and forgiveness.  She has forgiven me more
incidents of bad form than I care to remember.  I love her
for her dedication to the truth and her willingness to
believe in me even when she doesn't agree with me.  But
most of all, I love her for staying with me when I have
given her thousands of reasons to run screaming for the
hills.  She stays.  Why?  Does her integrity refuse to let
her give up in the search for the truth?  Does she feel she
has to keep up with me and stay to prove something?  She's
never had anything to prove to me.  Or is it that she stays
because she has feelings for me that reach beyond the
boundaries of friendship?  I can only pray that she does.

<Yes, I do, damn you.>

And I can only pray that someday, somehow, I find a way to
tell her.  I need to find the courage because pining away
for her is beginning to eat me up from the inside out.
Longing to touch her day in and day out.  Despite our
friendship, being afraid that if I touch her, she will
scream inappropriate professional behavior or sexual
harassment.  I long to touch her and show her how much I
love her.  It is driving me stark raving mad.  Some would
say that stark raving mad is not a long trip for me.  They
would be wrong.

My diminutive, but incredibly strong partner has restored
my sanity, my logic, my motivation for the work we do.  She
wrenched my sorry obsessed ass away from the abyss of total
self absorption, away from the cliff edge of craziness.
She reintroduced me to the real world and what was going on
around me.  A place where there are things besides
conspiracies and lies and quests and obsessions.  We still
labor away in the basement of the Hoover Building and have
seen so much darkness, but I do see sunshine now.  I see
sunshine because she is with me.  Her smile can melt my
heart.  Her laughter brings me joy.  Her tease can tighten
my chest to the point where I can't breath.  Her beauty
soothes my eyes that have seen way too much ugliness.  When
she is with me my curse of an eidetic memory can forget the
horrors I've seen and find soothing relief.  Her trust
crawled under my skin and spoke to my soul.

<Who knew he could have such romantic thoughts?>

She is my other half.  She makes me whole, complete.  She
is my touchstone, my reality and my soul mate.  I meant
everything I've ever said to her.  I meant what I said
after Diana's death.  I meant what I said before that
stupid bee stung her.  I meant what I said after being
yanked from the freezing water of the Bermuda Triangle.  I
am blessed and damned at the same time, because I love her
with everything I am.

So, boy genius, what to do?  What to do?  I can profile
serial killers, chase aliens, battle flukemen, zombies and
liver eating mutants without losing my head.  But I am a
total wuss, frozen with fear when faced with the prospect
of being rejected by a short little redhead with a temper,
the woman I love.  Can I find the courage to take the risk
and tell her how I feel?

<You don't need to be afraid.>

My experience tells me that someone as "together" as her
could never love a fuck-up like me.  My self esteem tells
me I don't deserve her.  My track record says I could never
capture her heart.  I don't deserve her as a friend, let
alone a lover.  But since when have I ever been concerned
with what I deserve?  Why now suddenly do I care whether I
am getting the better end of the deal.  Because I love her,
that's why and I want what is best for her. And I am
definitely NOT what's best for her.

<Why don't you let me decide that, partner.>

But she would tell me, with her infinite compassion that it
is not my choice to make - not my decision what is best for
her, that I am not her mother.  And even her mother won't
try to tell her what is best for her anymore.

<Bingo!  You are catching on after all!>

There is so much at stake.  I need her, like food.  Melissa
what's-her-name may be my soul mate in the next life,
although I don't even believe that anymore.

<You don't?>

I wanted to at the time.  But I feel in my heart that
Scully is my soul mate in this one, this life.  I can only
hope that at the moment of truth, she will feel it in her
soul as I do.  Hope that she will recognize the ethereal
tether that binds us together like pieces of a puzzle.  I
can't hide this anymore.  It is only a matter of time
before I slip and say or do something that gives me away.

How many times has she asked, truly puzzled, "Why are you
acting this way, Mulder?"  And how many times have I been a
hair's breath away from screaming into her face, "Don't you
get it?  Because I'm in love with you!"

Or worse, I may explode with jealousy or protectiveness and
drive her away.  This WILL manifest itself somewhere,
sometime.  The psychologist in me knows this to be true.  I
have to tell her before that happens.

But how do I tell her that's it's O.K. if she doesn't feel
the same way?  Nothing would have to change, except her
awareness of my feelings.  She would not believe me.  This
way, she would understand many of my reactions around her
that are a mystery to her now.  They are a mystery because
she doesn't know how I feel, and therefore, my reactions
make no sense, seem unreasonably possessive and commanding.
Although, you would think that she would catch on.  I
sometimes marvel at her capacity for denial.  Denial for
the things she has seen, denial for all things paranormal,
but mostly, denial about my feelings for her.  She must
feel it, the vibes from me.  She is so smart and perceptive
in other ways.

<I have been in denial.  Oh, Mulder, I  promise that's
going to stop.>

But part of her charm is that she is refreshingly and
blissfully unaware of her beauty, her sex appeal, the lure
of her mind and compassion and loving nature.

<Sex appeal?  Beauty?  Is it getting warm in here?>

My possessiveness almost drove her away when I sent her to
Philadelphia.  I had taken her for granted.  She let me
know in stark and painful terms that I had no control over
her.  That her life was her own, was obvious upon her
return.  And in case I had any doubt of how little
hold I had over her, she told me straight out that not
everything was about me.  I was yanked quite gracelessly
from my self-centeredness by her words.  The world does not
revolve around me, definitely not.  There may be a God, but
I'm not It!

<I lied.  It had everything to do with you and the hold you
had on me that I felt growing by the day.>

And I felt the knife in my heart twist again.  And I bled.
Emotionally, I bled anguish at my insignificance in her
life.  I wanted to be involved in everything she did.
Still do.  But that's pretty ridiculous, isn't it?

<Insignificance?  Nothing could be further from the truth.>

Physically I shed tears of remorse for taking her
friendship, partnership and obedience to my wishes for
granted.  And my heart, well, my heart shattered into a
million pieces at the knowledge that a stranger, a crazy
stranger had been able to touch her.  A stranger had more
appeal as a mate than I did.  A stranger had enjoyed her
body, had sex with her.  And it must have been just sex.
He didn't know her well enough to make love to her.  Given
the chance, I would --make love-- to her.  I would worship
her body with respect and reverence and express my love for
her in the ultimate way; physical union of our bodies as
merely an extension and expression of what I feel for her.
I dream of all the ways I would love to make love to her.
Hot and passionate. Soft and slow.  Hard and fast.

<It's definitely getting hot in here!>

I think those soft, full lips would be warm and wet.  I
think her skin would be warm and silky.  I think her sex
would be wet and tight.  I think.  I think.  I think.  I
wonder.  I fantasize.  I dream.  I would love to find out
for real.  I long to find out the answers to all the
questions that swirl in my mind about her body.  I long to
find out the answers to all the questions that swirl in my
mind about what goes on in that pretty head of hers when
she looks at me.

<When I look at you?  My suppressed libido goes into
overdrive.>

But this isn't just about sex, although I do burn for her.
I want the whole enchilada.  I want to wake up next to her
every day and go to sleep next to her every night.  I want
to make her breakfast in bed and share the holidays.  I
want to take her to dinner and the movies and buy her
jewelry.  I want to share our fears and joys.  I want to
have a home with her, raise children with her and grow old
with her.  I know she can't have children, another thing I
took away from her, but I have dreams where we adopt and
raise two kids and do a better job than my folks ever did.

<Mulder, you're giving me a heart attack here.  Adopt
children?  A home?  Grow old?  You see quite a future here.
Obviously, he's given this more thought than I have.>

I need to give my eyes a rest now.  I will lay on my cold
couch alone.  I will close my eyes and I will fantasize
again.  She is so vivid to me, so etched in my mind's eye,
that I will imagine her flushed face.  I will see what I
think she would look like aroused.   I will touch myself and
pretend it's her tiny hand on me.  I will bring myself to yet
another nightly orgasm with her name on my lips.  And
afterwards, I will fall asleep, my fantasy ultimately leaving
me empty and alone.  Again.

<You don't have to be alone.  Oh God, Mulder, I wish I had
known!  I'm going to fix it so neither of us has to be
alone ever again.>

**

Tears were streaming down her face as she finished reading.
Despite her tears, her body had reacted to his words about
making love to her.  Her nipples were hard and her sex was
throbbing, hot and wet.  His words had evoked images
she rarely let see the light of day.  Images that came out
to play only in the wee hours of the morning when she
couldn't sleep and would masturbate to relieve her tension.
She could always sleep after a good orgasm.

Mulder always appeared in those masturbatory fantasies.  Oh
God!  He thought she had slept with Ed Jerse!  She didn't.
She couldn't.  She wanted Ed to be Mulder, despite her
anger at his commanding attitude.  So why had she let
Mulder think she had slept with Ed?  She simply hadn't
denied it.  The truth was she had wanted to hurt him back.
Hurt him for hurting her.  She wanted to hurt him for
taking her for granted and not wanting her.  How childish.
She had wanted him to be jealous.  She wanted to know that
her hold on him was as strong as the one he held over her.
She couldn't stay mad at Mulder.  He didn't know that.  His
positive qualities far outweighed his negative ones.

She admired his dedication, his willingness to act on a
hunch, his fearlessness in the face of impossible odds.  He
was her rock.  He was a tower of strength and belief that
he didn't ever give himself credit for.  How many times
would she have given in to fear without his strength and
determination to guide her?  How many times would she have
curled up into a ball and given up if he hadn't wrapped his
strong arms around her and made her feel safe.

After the Phaster case, after Melissa's death, during her
cancer scare; these were all glaring examples of this.  He
had been there for her, never wavering.  And lest we forget,
he traveled across half the world, battled inhuman creatures
and nearly froze to death to save her from a fate worse than
death.  She had wondered then at the efforts he expended to
give her the antidote, to save her.  This went above and
beyond the call of duty to a partner.

She had tried to deny what she saw.  For months she tried
to come up with an explanation that would suit her
guidelines of reality.  But in the end, she had to give a
little, like she did with so many things where he was
concerned.  She no longer recognized the thinking
boundaries she'd once held sacred.  Mulder had blurred them
all and erased her life where things were black and white
with no gray matter.  No, now there was a lot of gray
matter, not to mention little gray men!  She had to admit
that at the very least, she'd seen something spectacular,
something she couldn't begin to explain.

So, what do?  Was that his question?  She knew no man had
ever rocked her world like Mulder had.  No man would ever
be as intriguing or as stimulating to her psyche like he
was.  Certainly she didn't find anyone as attractive, as
... sexy.  She loved him.  She really did.  The answer was
so simple and there staring her in the face all this time.
Time to 86 the denial trip.

Her father once told her that trust was the most important
thing in a relationship.  More important even than love.
He said that you could love someone more than anything in
the world, but if you couldn't trust them, it would never
work.  That suspicion and lack of trust would drive a wedge
in the relationship and erode the love because without
trust, love was conditional instead of unconditional.
Well, trust was one thing that Mulder and she had in
abundance.  Friendship, partnership, trust, compassion,
strength, comfort, safety and belief in each other all
added up to ... love.  Yes, she'd found all things in her
partner.

The Bureau frowned on relationships between partners but
they didn't prohibit it unless you conducted your
"involvement" or 'fraternized" on Bureau time.  She
knew this but had used the precautionary sexual harassment
rule as a shield on more than one occasion to protect
herself.

Protect herself from what?  Compassion, safety, love.  Why
should she need protection from these things?  All these
things Mulder brought to her life.  Mulder was forever
trying to protect her.  She was always telling him that she
didn't need his protection from anything or anyone.

But what about her own warped thinking.  No, she had been
protecting herself from her own feelings.  The enormity of
them had frightened her, she realized now.  She was afraid
of losing herself in him.  Needing anyone was foreign to
her.  The very idea grated against her staunch independence
and professionalism she had perfected to compete in a good
old boy network.

She had thought that loving someone and needing someone
that much would smother you.  Couldn't feelings that
intense make you lose your identity?  She realized now that
this notion was foolish.

Mulder's love had made her strong, capable, equal.  He had
pushed her to realize her potential, to push her boundaries
intellectually and emotionally.  He had pushed the envelope
of her bravery.  She realized now that she and Mulder were
both better people, stronger people all around for having
known each other, tested and trusted each other, pushed and
challenged each other ... and they had saved each other,
literally.

Also, though, they saved each other figuratively and
emotionally from self-absorption and a life of loneliness
and craggy solitude they had carved out for themselves.
But they were both still lonely because they were denying
each other the comfort of each other beyond the mental
gymnastics they employed with one another.  They hid from
each other emotionally and physically.  Why?  As he said,
FEAR.

Their love for each other had set them free to be
themselves.  Because of that trust and love, they could act
without fear of losing respect from each other, or losing
the friendship or their partnership.  They could test their
boundaries and know the other had their back.  They would
always support each other, in the field as well as
emotionally.  Emotionally only though when the chips were
down.  They had to learn to share the emotional stuff in
good times too and what was in their hearts and share that
too.  Their dependence on each other could be a freeing
experience if they let it be.  It was in some ways already.

Liberty from dependence on unconditional love was a strange
paradox.  But she finally understood it.  Her mother had
tried to explain it to her once.  She tried to explain how
liberty came from true love.  How you were removed from
worry about your image and impressing others and it made
you strong in your convictions.  How it made you stronger
and able to be your best and yourself in every area of your
life, without the fear of a future loss to hold you back.
Frankly, she had thought her mother was full of shit.  She'd
figured her little lecture as the rantings of a woman who
wanted grandchildren and saw her opportunities passing by
despite having four children.

Her mother had stopped bugging her about finding a man when
Bill and Tara finally had a child.  Or was it when she
started to become fond of Mulder?  Did her mother see
something she had missed and ignored all these years? Well,
she was admitting and finally accepting that she loved her
partner now.

And the confirmation that he loved her too gave her a
little thrill of anticipation and courage to face her fear.
So Mulder had taken the biggest chance of his life, had he?
Is that how he saw revealing his feelings to her?  He was
trusting her with his feelings.  That was not an easy thing
for him to do.  Not easy for her either, she understood
that about him.  They had both been hurt so many times.  He
was trusting her with his heart and trusting her not to
break it by walking away.

She said out loud,  "Mulder, I'm going to be worthy of your
trust.  I know you will be worthy of mine.  I have some
planning to do."  She closed down the computer as a wicked
smile appeared on her face.  She stood and headed for the
door.

<You've rocked my world again, partner.  Now it's
time to rock yours.  Time to go get supplies.>
 
 

Rating:  NC-17
ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA
SATURDAY - NOON TIME

Fox Mulder was tired.  He had spent a long week getting
inside the head of a man who got off on torture.
Regardless of how disturbing that exercise was, he should
probably consult a little more frequently.  He always left
these cases disgusted at the human capacity for evil.  But
at the same time, they left him feeling incredibly normal
and sane.  That was an unusual feeling for him and he liked
it.

He wanted what everybody wanted in the end; food, shelter,
love of a good woman, normal sex life.  All pretty regular
stuff.

He stared out the window of the cab as it's driver played
chicken with half the traffic in Arlington, but he barely
noticed.  All he could think about was Scully.  He had
called her Thursday night and left a message on her
machine.  He had called last night and it had been brief.
She had said she was headed out for dinner with her mother.
He was afraid she was avoiding talking to him and he was
scared that he'd done something really stupid.  He had
managed to ask her if she'd read the entry.  Her only reply
had been, "Yes, and we'll talk when you get home."

He had told her he was expecting to be home by noon on
Saturday and it was already quarter after.  She said that
she would be in touch with him when he got home.

**

FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT
SATURDAY, 12:30 PM

He tiredly slid his key into the lock and pushed the door
open with his shoulder, muscling his bag and briefcase into
the doorway and dropping them on the floor.  He grabbed his
keys and kicked the door shut.  A heavy sigh escaped before
he looked up and gasped.

<Someone's been busy here.>  The place was clean.  The
place had obviously been dusted and vacuumed.  He wandered
into the kitchen and noted that the dirty dishes he had
left were no longer gracing the sink.  Wanting a drink, he
went to the fridge and raised his eyebrows into the opened
door.  It was full of stuff.  There was chicken marinating
in a 13 X 9 pan, mashed potatoes in a pot with cellophane on
top and a bowl of mixed vegetables.  A fresh gallon of milk
and two quarts of orange juice and a bottle of Chardonnay.
He hadn't bought any of this stuff and he rarely cooked.
He could only assume that the Scully fairy had come and
left these offerings.  He smiled.

<Well, she can't be too scared or pissed or she wouldn't
have done this.>

He grabbed the O.J. carton and drank straight out of it,
knowing that would irk Scully if she saw him do it.  He
sighed and made his way back into the living room, sitting
on the couch, O.J. carton in hand.  His magazines were
stacked neatly on the coffee table and a note was laying
beside them.

      Mulder,
      I know you've had a hard week, so I want you to
      relax.  I got you a tape to watch.  Sit back and
      relax.  Enjoy.

Well, that was weird.  He looked up at the VCR and noticed
a tape sticking out.

<OH GOD! Had he left the redhead tape in there?  SHIT!>

He pulled the tape out and found it to be a new tape, no
label and it was rewound.  This should be interesting.

He was intrigued now.  He stuck it in and retrieved the
remote, turning on the T.V. and hitting play.  He removed
his coat and threw it over the arm of the chair, kicking
off his sneakers and reclined.  He had dressed in a
sweatshirt and old loose jeans for the ride home.  He was
comfy.  The static of the beginning of the tape ended and a
scene appeared.  Good god, it was Scully's bedroom!  He'd
only been in there a couple of times but he recognized it
right away.

He sat up, giving the tape his full attention.  She
appeared on the screen, not looking at the camera, and
wearing silk pajamas of a deep royal blue.  She crawled
onto her back and lay back against the pillows and sighed.

One arm was flung to the side of her head, resting on the
pillow.  The other lay idly on her stomach.  She closed her
eyes and her hand began to move, making slow circles around
her stomach, moving the silk over her skin.  <Holy shit,
she's caressing herself!>

Was this what he thought it was?  He was already breathing
ragged at the thought.  Sure enough, her hand finally made
it's way up to her breast, cupping herself and dragging a
thumb over her nipple.  He could see it harden as she
hummed low in her throat, <Mmmm.>

Her other hand came down to pay attention to the other
breast and she squeezed her globes and pinched her nipples,
beginning to moan. Her eyes were still closed.  She rubbed
the silk over her breasts with the flat of her hands.  God,
that must feel good, he thought.

She opened her eyes to peer down at herself and begin
unbuttoning the top of her pajamas.  Slowly, one button at
a time, she revealed a strip of white skin down the center
of her body.  Mulder was frozen now with anticipation.  Her
hands swept over her belly and then pulled the sides of the
shirt apart, exposing her stomach and her breasts in all
their glory.

He muttered, "Sweet Jesus, Scully, you're so beautiful."

She still hadn't said anything and he didn't really expect
her to.  How far would this go?  Was this just a little
peep show?  He was hard as a rock already and straining
against the zipper of his jeans.  He stood abruptly, eyes
never leaving the screen as he watched her tease herself,
wetting her fingers in her mouth and rolling her nipples
again with wet fingers.  <Ohh, Mulder.>

My name!  She said my name!  He yanked his jeans and boxers
down, tossing them to the floor with his socks.  He sat and
leaned back onto the couch.  What the hell?  He crossed his
arms over the hem of his sweatshirt and yanked it over his
head.  He reclined on the couch, completely naked now.

He watched with rapt attention as the lit candle on her
nightstand flickered shadows over her skin.  She lifted her
hips off the bed suddenly and pulled her bottoms down her
legs, tossing them away and lay back wearing just the top,
spread open behind her.  Her fingers teased her curls at
the apex of her thighs, scratching lightly.

Her legs fell open and she raised her knees, showing
everything.  Yup, she was a real redhead!  Her lips were
coral pink and swollen.  Beautiful.  She was obviously
taking her time.  Out loud he whispered, "Oh God, is this
really happening?"

This was not the reaction he would have expected from his
partner.  He was anticipating an hours long conversation
about everything that could possibly go wrong were they to
get involved.  He thought she would be scared away, or
indignant, or full of "what ifs".  But this, THIS he did
not expect.  She had obviously been turned on and decided
to do something about it.  The time date at the bottom of
the screen indicated that this had been made Wednesday
evening around 9:00 PM, shortly after she would have read
the entry he asked her to read.  This was the result.  And
she had left it for him. And she was thinking of him,
saying his name.

He gulped hard as her index finger wandered into the crack
of her folds and rubbed lightly back and forth.  Her voice
sighed out, <Ahhh, I'm so wet for you.>

'Oh God.' His hand sought out his throbbing erection and he
grasped it, giving it a squeeze to ease the pressure, not
stroking. He wanted this to last.  Her voice drifted out of
the screen again.

<Don't touch yourself yet.>  He started and yanked his hand
away, foolishly looking around the room as if she were
there speaking to him.  Christ, she'd known the exact
moment when he it would become too much and he would want
to touch himself.  She tilted her hips up and spread her
pink folds delicately with the edge of her fingers and
displayed them.  She whispered, "I'll tell you when."

Still kneading one breast, her other hand between her legs,
she slipped her middle finger inside, glided out, pulling
her juices up to spread the wetness around her bundle of
nerves.  At the contact of her finger, she groaned.

Mulder's head was spinning with arousal.  He was going to
have to touch himself soon.  A bomb could have one off and
he would not have removed his eyes from the screen.  She
was gorgeous, every inch of her.  Her hair was splayed out
behind her on the pillow like a fiery halo.  Her lips were
wet from licking and her chest rose off the bed into her
hand as she began to pleasure herself, sliding one then two
fingers in and out of herself.  Each pass, she swiped her
fingers over her clit and her hips would lift off the bed.

She suddenly sat up, removed her top and flung it to the
floor, flipping over onto her stomach and stuffing a pillow
under her hips.  Her beautiful little derriere was sticking
up into the air. He could see her tattoo, so "un-Scully-
like" on her lower back, but sexy at the same time because
it was a hint of the wildness under all that reserve and
control.  She leaned her weight on her shoulders, head to
the side and pushed both arms between her spread legs.  One
hand began plunging two fingers inside her while the other
furiously slid back and forth over her clit.

<Oh, I'm close, Mulder.  So close.>

Her grunts and groans were almost his undoing.  Mulder's
hands gripped the back and cushion of the couch in a death
grip as he began to pant with her.  He was throbbing at
full mast, his shaft beginning to ache from being hard with
no relief.  A loud groan escaped him as he said out loud,
"I could come just watching you.  Oh god have mercy."  His
hips undulated on the cool leather of the couch.  He had to
move.  This was unbearable.

She was whimpering and hooting now.  Between whimpers and
pants, she choked out, "Now, Mulder ...  now ... make
yourself ... come for me."

Both hands dove between his legs, one grabbing his shaft
and pumping fast and furious.  The other cradled his sac
and lifted his balls up against his shaft to feel the
pumping action.  She was close.  He no sooner had that
thought when she came.  His eyes went wide as she flipped
onto her back, legs spread, head back and hands still
working. Her beautiful neck was displayed.  He could see
her rapid pulse. Her hips bucked and a wave rolled through
her torso.  He could she her legs shaking, a red flush
rising up her chest.  Her nipples were hardening even
further, making the faint blue veins show near her areola.

And then, the best part, she screamed.  She screamed HIS
NAME!  "Oh, FUCK, MUULLDDEERR, YES, YES YES OHGOD!"  At her
shout, he erupted, a pitifully short time after beginning
to stroke himself.  His balls clenched and he spurted cum
into the air as wave after wave of pleasure hit him.  He
collapsed onto the couch, cum dotting his chest, panting
hard and still watching her body, now a boneless heap on
the sheets.

When her breathing returned to normal, she looked at the
screen directly for the time since her little show had
started.  A quirky satisfied smile pulled her lips up into
a sultry grin.  "Bet you didn't know that I've been doing
that for years."

He gasped.  She paused letting that little nugget of
information sink in.  "And I don't mean just masturbating.
I mean masturbating thinking of you.  The best orgasms of
my life have been fantasizing about you touching me."

He felt the sting of tears and didn't try to hold them
back.

<Oh God, could this be real?>

If this was a joke, he just might kill somebody.  Nothing
this good ever happened to him.

She continued to talk, unselfconscious about her body.  Her
voice was soft and low and lazy, totally unconcerned, as
though she was day dreaming.  "Mulder, you dope, I'm in
love with you too.  I wish you'd said something sooner.
But then again, neither did I.  And for the same reason as
you.  FEAR.  We are a pair, aren't we?"  She chuckled
mirthlessly.  "I'm tired of being afraid and I'm tired of
waiting for this kind of happiness and I know that I'm not
going to find it with anyone else."

'I'm dreaming, I must be fucking dreaming.'  He grabbed a
tissue from the coffee table and cleaned himself off, eyes
still never leaving the screen.  He couldn't get enough of
staring at this display of Scully skin, all sprawled out
and relaxed in post coital relaxation.  She gave a quirky
smile and spread her legs and slid a finger over the
outside of her swollen lips.

"Seems we want a lot of the same things; to be together, to
have a home, to wake up together.  I've already gone over
all the reasons we shouldn't do this in the last four years
or so.  None of them hold any water for me anymore."  She
slid a finger inside herself again, sighing.  "Sooo, the
next time something is in here, I hope it's you.  By the
way, nothing has been in here but my own fingers for over
six years.  I'll be waiting.  Whenever you're ready."

With that, she rolled off the bed, smiled lazily and walked
off camera.  A couple of seconds later it went to snow.
Mulder sat stunned for several moments as her words
penetrated the mush that was left of his brain.  Then he
sprang into action.  All tiredness from his trip had
vanished in the adrenaline rush of anticipation.

<Six years?  She said she'd been with no one is six years!
That meant she hadn't slept with Jerse!  The sense of
relief at that knowledge was tremendous.  Almost
embarrassingly so.  He didn't even realize he still held on
to that resentment.  He snapped off the T.V., rose and
trotted to the bathroom and jumped in the shower.  Exiting,
he dried himself off, brushed his teeth and headed out to
the bedroom to put on some fresh jeans and a tee shirt.

The entire thing couldn't have taken ten minutes and he was
grabbing his keys and leather jacket and running out the
door, letting it slam closed behind him.
 

~~~
 

Rating:  NC-17
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
SATURDAY 3:00 PM

I didn't think I would be this nervous.  Once I decided to
"go for it", I thought that I would handle it the way I
handle everything else, with precision and confidence.  But
those rules never seem to apply where Mulder is concerned.
He is a puzzle, but not a case that I need to solve or a
theory I need to poke a hole in.  I am dealing with
emotions that have never made an appearance in my life
before.  Emotions are not something that I have never been
good at dealing with, other than being good at suppressing
them and not showing them on the outside.

Somehow this practice allowed me to pretend that they
didn't exist so I wouldn't have to deal with them or face
them in any sort of constructive way.  Not healthy, I know,
but the way I have always been.

It's time for that to end along with my denial of the way I
feel about my partner.  I was so confident when I came home
and made that tape.  I knew it would be easy to play out
one of the hundred fantasies in my mind and forget about
the camera.  I was hoping that this would appeal to
Mulder's proclivity for XXX tapes.  It wasn't like one of
those, but the idea was there.

And I was afraid I would chicken out face to face.  Afraid
that I would forget what I wanted to say.  I wasn't very
good at being the one to initiate things.  I knew he must
have been home by now and must have watched the tape.  I
was wondering if he would call.  I had said, 'whenever
you're ready'.  What if he wasn't ready?  What if he was
shocked?  Not that watching women on tape was anything new
to him, but what if the fact that 'I' did it was offensive
to him?

If he didn't show up tonight, I didn't think I would be
able to handle it.  I don't think I will be able to wait
and wonder.  I had dinner with my mother last night and
told her that I had become of aware of Mulder's romantic
feelings for me.  I was asking her advice, something I
rarely did, let alone where men were concerned.  She
surprised me by becoming excited and enthusiastic.  She
told me to go for it, go buy some sexy lingerie, take
charge.  I hadn't expected that.  She told me that she had
known he was in love me for years.  She assumed I knew and
didn't want to take that next step.  Why did I have to have
the one mother on the planet that didn't interfere in her
children's lives?  Why didn't she tell me?

Oh, well.  I'm tempted to start on that bottle of wine I
bought just to calm my nerves.  I'm dressed in black knit
leggings and a black cotton mini-tee with spaghetti straps,
my breast straining against the fabric.   Thankfully, the
job keeping me in shape and working out on my off time have
kept my breasts firm and high on my chest.  I'm barefoot.
A little overt to wear a top that cannot accommodate a bra
but I'm hoping for impact here.  I didn't want to dress up
and look too anxious.  But now I'm wondering if the outfit
is too much.

Before I have time to ponder that much more, there is a
knock on the door.

<Oh, God, he's here!>

I go to the door and look out the peep hole even though
there is no doubt in my mind who it is.  He stands there
watching the floor.  I cannot see his face.  Taking a deep
breath, I open the door, leaving my chain lock on.

He looks up and meets my gaze.  And I am gazing through the
two inch crack in the open door.  Christ, I love the way he
looks in black jeans and a leather jacket.  He looks so
casual, so ... male.  Somehow this outfit, that I've seen a
hundred times over makes him look like he just stepped off
the cover of GQ.

I decide to tease him suddenly.  "What's the password?"

A huge toothy smile breaks out on his face, the one that
always does funny things to the contents of my stomach.  A
small chuckle and he replies, "Is there a sexy redhead that
lives here?"

I laugh and swing the door open.

His eyes go wide as he takes in the relatively skimpy
amount of material I am wearing but says nothing.  Those
hazel eyes return to mine after a quick perusal and lock
there.  I'm sure I've never seen this look before.  Desire,
stark and obvious is etched on his features.  The slightly
slouched posture indicates his uncertainty.  The moisture
in his eyes gives away his fear.

Seeing his discomfort has the effect that it usually has on
me.  I become 'take charge Dana' wanting to comfort him and
put him at ease.

"Hey, Mulder.  I'm glad you're here.  I was getting worried
you wouldn't come over today."  I try to sound casual.

"Hey, Scully."  He smiles a little nervous smile.  "You
knew I'd come."  I'm not sure if he was referring to coming
over here, or just coming!

I back away from the doorway so he can enter and sweep my
hand out indicating he should come in.  He walks by me,
hands in his pockets and looks around the living room,
taking in the fire going in the fireplace, the candles on
the coffee table and the wine chilling in a bucket next to
the couch.  I shut the door and wait for him to look
around.

He spins on his heel and looks at me, waiting, still
unsure.  "Let me take your jacket," I offer.  I figure I
should do some familiar things first to try to put him at
ease.  He shrugs out of it and hands it over.  Now he has
no pockets to hide his hands and I see them clench into
fists then smooth over the thighs of his jeans.  He looks
at me again from underneath his lashes.

God, he's acting shy.  I've never seen him like this.  I
like it.  "Have a seat, Mulder."

He nods and takes the two long strides to the couch and
sits down, not reclining, elbows on his thighs.  "Scully, I
feel really stupid here, but I've got to tell you ... I
have no idea what to do here."

I chuckle and sit beside him on the couch.  "Relax.  I
won't bite you."

He smiles at that.  "I know."  He stares at me again.  I
pour us each a glass of wine, and hand him his, letting him
gather his thoughts.

"What are you thinking?" I ask.

He takes a deep breath.  "You're so beautiful.  Jesus
Scully, I want this so badly and I'm so afraid I'll screw
it up."  Another deep breath and he sniffles a little,
biting his bottom lip.

I lay my hand gingerly on his knee and he jumps but doesn't
pull away.  I've never touched his legs.  He just stares
again.  Quietly, I say, "Mulder, you can't possibly screw
this up."

"I'm good at screwing relationships up, Scully, believe me
when I tell you."  His eyes go to the carpet again.

"Mulder, look at me."  He looks at me out of the corner of
his eye, not turning his head.  I reach out and touch his
chin, pulling his face around.  He doesn't resist.

"Scully, I ..."

"Mulder, listen."  He nods.  "I've seen you at your best.
I've seen you at your worst.  I've seen you half-dead and
I've seen you half-crazy.  I've seen Compassionate Mulder,
Playful Mulder, Brilliant Mulder, Devastated Mulder,
Arrogant Mulder.  The list goes on.  And guess what?"

"What?"  His voice is a whisper.

Now it's my turn to hesitate.  I look at my lap but then
raise my eyes to meet his again.  Silently congratulating
myself on how steady my voice is, I reply, "I love them
all."

He looks so amazed and bewildered by this statement.  It's
adorable.

Quietly, he asks me, "How can that be?"  He really is
confused.

I smile broadly at him, shaking my head slightly with my
amusement.  "You  have become the single most important
person in my life, Mulder.  We've been through so much
together.  The fact that our partnership, let alone our
friendship has survived is nothing short of miraculous.  If
we were going to do something to chase the other one away,
I think we would have accomplished it by now, don't you?"

"I guess so."  He's smiling a little now.  "Scully, tell me
what you want to happen here, please.  Just tell me ...
what you ... the pace ... "  He stops to take a breath
again while he gathers his thoughts.  I wait patiently.  "I
know what I'm trying to say, really I do."  He chuckles.  I
smile at him.

"Just spit it out Mulder.  Stop worrying about how I'm
gonna take it."

"O.K. here goes.  Just because you left me that tape
doesn't mean that you want to jump into bed with me.  Just
because you ... love me ... doesn't mean that you don't
want other things first."

"Like what?"

"I don't know.  Courtship?  Flowers?  Making out in the
car?  Hell, I don't know!  I'm so bad at this romantic
relationship stuff.  That's what I want you to tell me.  I
don't want you to think this is just about sex to me.  I
mean, I want that too, but ... I want ... Scully, I want it
all.  Scully, if we cross this line, I won't be able to
cross back.  I can live with things the way they are.  I
really can, just knowing that you know how I feel will be a
relief."  He paused.  "Scully, I'm too much in love with
you.  There's no stepping back afterwards.  Not for me.  I
need for you to understand that.  Need to know you're
sure."

His eyes are suspiciously moist with tears now and his sexy
bottom lip is quivering slightly.  I need to still these
fears of his.  He is actually asking me to take control
here.  At work, he hates it when I try to take control and
tell him what to do.  Now he's asking me to take control.
The irony doesn't escape me.

"First of all, I don't need flowers, poetry or a courtship.
I think we've been dating for nearly seven years now, don't
you?"  He smiles.  "Second of all, I was through with
making out in the back of cars by the time I was in
college.  I prefer a bed, thank you, although I'm open to
suggestions."  He hiccups at that suggestion, his amusement
evident.  "And third of all, if I didn't want to go to bed
with you, leaving you that tape would have been a fairly
stupid move, don't you think?"  He's grinning now.

"Yeah, I guess it would be, but ..."

"No buts, Mulder, it's time, our time.  I'm ready for this.
But if you need more time, let me know.  I'll wait."

Now he is shaking his head.  "You amaze me, Scully."

"Why?"

"I expected fear, ranting and raving, lists of reasons why
we shouldn't do this.  I didn't expect you to be calm after
reading what I wrote.  And Christ, I certainly didn't
expect that tape.  I'm completely thrown."

"Had your speech all ready to counter my arguments and I
took the wind right out of your sails, did I?"

He chuckles.  "Yeah, you did.  You have a knack for that."

"So, what else do you want to know?  I want to get all the
talking out of the way, beforehand."

"Out of the way?"

"Yeah."

"Before what?"

"Before I jump your bones."  I surprise myself with how
casual this sounds.

He looks totally startled.  "Jump my?..."  His jaw drops
open and he begins to laugh, a full belly laugh, hand to
his sides, tears in his eyes.  It sounds a bit hysterical.
I've have totally rocked his world.  I like the feeling.
I'm smiling like an idiot now, loving his reaction.

"Oh God, Scully, this is so unbelievable.  My brain almost
can't process those words coming out of YOUR mouth."  It's
his turn to shake his head.

"What words did you picture coming out of my mouth?"

His smile fades.  He is suddenly serious again.  "Oh I
don't know.  Mulder, I'm leaving the FBI, I can't work with
you anymore.  Mulder, you're crazy, you just think you love
me.  Mulder, I'm sorry, but..."

"Oh God, Mulder."

"Scully, after I hung up the phone and realized what I was
doing by asking you to read that journal entry, I panicked.
I was so scared.  And when you didn't mention it when I
talked to you and you kind of brushed me off last night on
the phone ... well, I assumed the worst.

"Then I get home and find my apartment cleaned, food in the
fridge and a tape of the sexiest woman in the world
masturbating for me!  Christ, Scully, given my expectations,
it's all a bit bizarre and rather overwhelming."

"I'm sorry, Mulder.  I just didn't want to talk over the
phone.  This was too important."

"I know, but I still panicked.  I was afraid I'd done the
stupidest thing of my life."

"No, you've done much stupider things."

He barked out a laugh.  "Gee, thanks.  Always right there
with the ego boost when I need it."

I smiled.  "I'm teasing."

"I know.  So, what now?"

"Hmm.  Any more questions?"

"Yeah, what made you think of ... doing the tape?"

"I don't know.  You seem to have a thing for video tape."

"I only watch them because I couldn't have you."

"Did you like it?"

"Did I like it?!  Are you kidding me?  It was right out of
one of my fantasies.  It almost didn't seem real.  I had a
little trouble comprehending that you ... YOU had done it
for ME.  Jesus, Scully, I thought I was going to have a
heart attack!"

"That was the idea."

"Mission accomplished.  I can't think of any more questions,
not at the moment anyhow.  I know what I want."

I twisted around on the couch and threw my leg over his
legs and straddled him.  My hands went to his shoulders.
He jerked back a little but then laid his hands on my hips,
breathing hard, staring at me.  I lowered my lips to his
ear and whispered, "Did I make you come?" My voice dropped
an octave without any effort on my part.

His entire body shuddered under mine and he groaned, closing
his eyes.  "Yeess.  I came ... hard."

"Then indeed, mission accomplished.  Think you can do it
again so soon?"  I ran my tongue around the shell of his
ear and scraped my teeth lightly on his lobe.  He shuddered
again and began to breathe shallow.  His fingers starting
squeezing my hips but otherwise he didn't move.  I ran my
tongue behind his ear and down the column of his throat,
finding his pulse at the base of his neck.  I sucked his
skin into my mouth, nipping lightly and then licking to
smooth it with my tongue.  I was feeling territorial all of
a sudden and wanted to mark him.  I bit him again,
repeating the procedure.

His shuddering groan this time sent a wave of arousal
through my body that culminated in a spasm of warmth
between my legs.  It was slightly surreal that I, Dana
Scully, was having this affect on him.  I pressed my hips
forward till my juncture met his body.  I could feel his
hardness through his jeans.  He was panting now.  "Oh God,
Scully, Oh God!"

I pulled back to look at his face.  His eyelids were heavy
with arousal, his eyes had turned a shade of deep green.  I
kept my voice low.  "What do I have to do to get you to
kiss me?"

His eyes widened for about a second, then his hands slid up
to grab my face and he pulled me to his lips.  No gentle
preliminaries.  He pushed his lips against mine, the motion
of his jaw opening my mouth.  His tongue plunged inside my
mouth.  He swallowed my gasp and began to assault my tongue
with his own, his jaw working back and forth as though he
would devour me.  He broke suddenly pulling air hard into
his lungs.  He looked at me briefly then pulled me in
again.

This time he slowed down, his initial frenzy seemingly
abated.  He was being slow and thorough now, although there
was nothing timid about his ministrations.  He nipped at my
tongue and sucked on my lips.  Now it was my turn to
shudder as bolts of sensation melted all my muscles.  I
felt my brain lose track of the rest of the room and tried
to refocus, but it was no use.

I'd never been taken over by a kiss.  This man could kiss!
I'd had dreams about what that tongue could do to me, but
the reality of kissing him was overwhelming.  His lips were
so smooth and soft.  His hands were hot on the sides of my
neck and his hardness was grinding into my crotch.  His
right hand drifted down to cup my left breast, kneading it
firmly before his fingers latched onto my nipple and
pulled.  When his fingers began rolling the hard little bud
back and forth, pinching it slightly, I felt the room spin.

My arousal was ratcheting up a notch with every swivel of
his hips and each touch of his tongue against mine and
every squeeze of his fingers on my nipple.  Christ, I was
light-headed.  I felt like I going to swoon.  There was
literally no blood left in my brain and I was sweating.
Dana Scully does not swoon!

<But this is Mulder touching me.  Mulder kissing me.
Mulder excited because of me.  This is Mulder making me
feel this way.  Is that me moaning?  Holy shit, what's
happening to my muscles?>  My arms had come loose from his
shoulders at some point.  My last thought before I nearly
tumbled out of his lap was, <I've never felt pleasure like
this.>

His arms were suddenly banded around my waist, and his lips
broke away from mine, his forehead resting on mine and we
panted into each other's face.  I heard my own mewl of
protest at the sudden change.  I kept blinking, trying to
focus on him, but wasn't having much luck.  He smiled at
me, his lips blurred and out of focus.  "Easy, Scully, stay
with me, we're just getting started."

I gulped.  "Mulder ... how the hell ... do you ... do
that?"  I sounded breathy and stunned.  Well, that's how I
felt.  He smiled harder, rubbing his nose across mine in an
Eskimo kiss.

"Do you have any idea how sexy it is to see you react like
this?  You are so beautiful."  His hands left my waist and
threaded through my hair.  "I can't believe I can touch you
like this, it's almost too much."

"Are you O.K.?"

"Yeah, are you?"

I was regaining control of my body now and wrapped my arms
around his neck.  "Other than almost passing out from the
pleasure, I'm fine."

He laughed then.  "This is too good to be true."

"It's true.  No such thing as too good."

"I agree.  I seem to remember a request for a bed."

"Do you now?"

"Mmm.  Think we can make it that far?"

"We can try."  I gingerly slid off his lap onto floor, my
legs feeling rubbery.  I swayed while he balanced me.  I
grinned sheepishly.  He smiled and stood when I had
steadied.  He picked me up and cradled me like a baby.  My
hands went back around his neck as I turned my face into
his chest.

**

Life can be strange sometimes.  Yesterday, I was nearly in
the pit of despair, scared to death that my world was about
to come apart because of a declaration I should have kept
to myself.

And today, I'm headed into the bedroom of the woman I've
been in love with for nearly five years, her soft, little
body cradled against my chest.  She weighs almost nothing
and I'm struck by the difference in our sizes.  I was
paralyzed for a moment when she first put her lips on me.
It was such a weird thing to have my fantasy become reality
that my brain took a few seconds to believe it was
happening, despite the conversation we'd just had.  Despite
the tape she'd left for me, I just couldn't believe that
this was actually going to happen.

My brain finally caught up with my body and I began to
touch her and kiss her the way I'd always dreamed.  I'd had
a hard time keeping my eyes on her face since I came in the
door.  It was as if her breasts had an eye magnet on them.
I couldn't stop looking at them, seeing their firm
roundness outlined under her skimpy tank top.  There is
hardly any sag to them.  They were full and round and firm
and perfect.

But her reaction was the best.  I can't believe it still.
Dana Scully just swooned in arms.  An honest to goodness
swoon.  Her moans were making me slightly delirious when I
felt her arms drop away from my shoulders, her head go
slack under my hand, tilting to the side.  I had barely
registered these movements when her entire body slumped and
nearly toppled out of my lap onto the couch.

Thank god for auto pilot reflexes that have been honed by
years of running for my life.  They kicked in and anchored
her to me, holding her upright without needing any
interference from my brain.  Good thing, because my head
was swimming, unable to focus on any one thing.  I was just
drowning in a sea of pleasure, having finally given myself
over to it once having gotten past my fear and disbelief.

**

I set her gently on the bed and she flops back, legs
dangling off the bed.  I sit her up slightly and yank her
top up.  She raises her arms to facilitate the removal of
her shirt.  I toss it away, not even looking to see where
it lands.  I realize it's dark in here and lean over to
click on the bedside lamp.  It has a soft light in it that
doesn't hurt my eyes, but casts an off white glow onto the
bed.

She is beautiful.  Beyond beautiful.  She is exquisite.  I
knew this.  I've seen her naked.  I'd just seen her on
tape.  But this is the first time I've had the opportunity
to really take it all in.  She isn't sick, she isn't
covered in goo from an alien pod.  She is hale, hearty, live
and in color.  And aroused.  Because of me.

I feel a surge of egotistical pride that I have put this
look on her face.  This languid arousal.  The sparkle in
her eyes as she awaits my next move.  I unbutton her jeans
as she lays back fully on the bed, arms stretched above her
head.  I mutter, "Lift."  She lifts her hips and I hook my
fingers into her leggings and slide them down, catching her
panties on the way to pull them both down and off the end
of her legs.  I lean over, balancing on my hands and kiss
her thoroughly, savoring the taste of her soft full lips.

There are no words to describe this feeling.  I am staring
at an aroused, totally naked, Dana Scully.  I feel
euphoric.  I am in awe.  I feel like I should kneel down
and worship.  Having that thought flit across my mind, I am
on my knees, tearing my tee-shirt over my head.

I grab her hips and pull her to the edge of the bed.  She
gasps.  "Oh God, Mulder, are you going to ..."

"Is that O.K.?"

"I've dreamed about it." That is her only reply.  I realize
that was her total answer and it was her permission.

Without further adieu, I spread her legs and begin trailing
my tongue over the soft, tender skin on the inside of her
thighs.  I can smell her, I can see the wetness coating her
folds, but I am determined to take my time.  I have waited
too long for this and I refuse to rush.  I know I'm a
decent lover, despite the cruelty of a woman like Phoebe in
my past.  I know what to do.  I'm not one of the men who
has to ask if she came.

What was it Dennis Miller said on that tape?  'Don't ask
her if she came.  You're a big boy now, Clousseau, you
should know if she came.'  And I do know.  I can always
tell.  And I am on a mission of my own.  Scully and her
little show and tell tape took me by surprise and she
indeed made me come, hard.  And now, it's time to return
the favor, even the score so to speak.

I was blessed with a long tongue.  I can touch my chin with
the tip of it, or my nose.  Comes in handy for activities
of this nature.  My lips make their way to her juncture and
I kiss her folds gently, then lick her from bottom to top.
She moans, a low sultry sound.  I feel my erection throb in
response.

I can't get enough of hearing her moan. I want to make her
moan so much she has a sore throat tomorrow.  My tongue
dives into her on auto pilot, swirling around to find her
walls, to taste them.  Oh man, she tastes delicious.  Her
juices are thick, with a slight tang that makes my taste
buds sit up and take notice, cringing slightly like when
you take your first suck off a sweet tart.  That's it, like
a sweet tart.

One hand anchors her hips as she begins to squirm after
raising her feet to the bed for better leverage.  I
studiously avoid her clit even though I know that is where
she wants me.  I'll get there.  Not yet.

The fingers of my other hand spread her lips wide to help
make room for my tongue to maneuver.  I love going down on
a woman.  I don't know why, but I always have.  It must be
the reactions I get.  I'll take Scully juice over sunflower
seeds to satisfy my oral fixation any day!  Yes, I know I
have an oral fixation.  So what?

After about a minute of licking and nipping and sucking up
her juices with my lips and tongue, she is whimpering and I
decide it's time to get serious.  Enough savoring.  I push
my fingers holding her lips apart inside and begin rubbing
the front wall of her tunnel.  She is so hot and slick and
I can feel her walls pulsing around my fingers. My lips go
her little bundle of nerves peeking out of her auburn
curls.  My free fingers gently pull the hood off her erect
little nub, now red and swollen with her excitement.  I
roll it between my lips firmly and then begin to suck and
lick.

Oh my god, she's going wild.  Her hands slapped the bed,
grabbing up the bedclothes into fists as her back arched as
she let out a shriek of surprise.  Then her hips bucked
violently into my mouth and her spasms began.  Her shriek
of surprise at the touch of my lips on her center of
pleasure turned into a low groan.  The first spasm brought
a wail.  I sucked harder and worked my fingers furiously,
plunging in and out, straining my eyes to the side to see
her face.  Then she screamed my name as her orgasm
continued, throwing her head back, her chest flushing red,
her nipples hard.  "Muuullldddeeerrr, Ohgodyes, Ohgodyes,
Oh, I'm coming so hard.  Holy Shit! Jesus,
Muuullldddeerrr."

I rode it out with her, lapping her gently as she returned
to me.  She lay limp and panting on the bed, as I slowly
removed my fingers causing her to moan.  I sucked her taste
off my fingers and watched her as I stood and discarded my
boots, socks, jeans and boxers.  Her eyes were closed.  I
wasn't even sure if she knew I wasn't touching her anymore.
Whatever lingering insecurities I had about this just went
flying out the window with her orgasm.

I don't remember ever being this hard.  The rush of blood
in my engorged cock is bordering on pain.  I crawl up on
all fours and straddle her body, my cock hanging above her
thighs.  I poke her gently with it and rub it on the skin
of her inner thigh, spreading my fluid in hers.  She hums
and opens her eyes, smiling a lazy, satisfied smile.  "That
was incredible, Mulder, I've never come that hard from oral
sex."

"Glad you liked it," I murmur, trying to be humble, and
lean down to kiss her softly, sucking her bottom lip into
my mouth then retreating to look at her face.  Post-coital
Scully is an awesome sight.  I feel unreasonably proud of
myself.  And I really am trying to ignore the now
relentless throbbing between my legs that is quickly
turning into a bone deep ache.

She looks down at me and gasps, her eyes going wide.  She
teases me.  "Oh, Mulder, I want THAT!"  I chuckle.

"It's all yours.  It's been all yours for a long, long time
now."

She nods, looking humbled by that statement.  I look at
her, still looking at me.  There is wonder on her face as
she wraps her tiny hand around me from underneath, almost
reverently and slides her hand from base to tip.  Her
beautiful lips form an almost perfect 'O'.  I'm leaking at
a ridiculous rate at this point.  It's almost embarrassing
how aroused I am.  Using her thumb to spread my precum over
the head, she coos at me.  I never would have guessed, Dana
Scully coos.

"Ooo, you're a BIG boy, Mulder.  Oh, I'm gonna have sooo
much fun with this."  I grin at her, feeling a swelling
sensation in my chest at her admiration for my anatomy.
There is no bigger compliment to a guy than having the
woman he's about to bed say that she likes what she sees.

She continues to stroke me, more firmly now and it's my
turn to start moaning helplessly.  She's still talking and
I struggle to concentrate on her words.  It's hard with the
bolts of electricity shooting through my dick with every
stroke.  "I knew were big, but I didn't really KNOW it if
you know what I mean.  Beautiful, Mulder, you're
beautiful."

As hard as it is to stop her, I reach down and still her
hand.  "I'm going to come in about 5 seconds if you keep
that up.  I'd rather put it to use in other ways."

She chuckles.  "Hmm, then what would you like to do with
it?"

My answer is to drop down to my elbows and insinuate my
hips between her thighs, nudging her wet entrance with the
head of my shaft.  She grunts slightly and raises her legs
to wrap them around my hips.  I am suddenly struck with
enormity of what is about to happen and my breathing speeds
up at an alarming rate.  Scully notices right away of
course.

"Are you O.K.?" she whispers.

I nod.  My voice sounds choked as I answer her.  "I still
can't believe I'm about to be inside you."

She seems to sense my need for reassurance that this is
reality and not a dream.  "Yes, that's where I want you.
Inside me, Mulder.  Do it now.  Oh God, I can't stand it
anymore.  Fill me up."

I groan.  That's all I'm capable of at the moment. Bracing
myself, I push slowly inside her.  She locks her gaze with
mine, her face glowing with anticipation.  "Oooooohhhhhh,
Muldeeer, yes!"

I'm shaking.  Sad but true.  I, Fox Mulder, 39 years old
and no stranger to sex with a variety of women in the past,
am shaking like a leaf, like a virgin.  But you have to
understand.  THIS IS DANA SCULLY!  I AM PUSHING MYSELF
INSIDE DANA SCULLY!  I AM ABOUT TO HAVE SEXUAL INTERCOURSE
WITH DANA SCULLY!  MY THROBBING PENIS IS SINKING INTO THE
WOMAN I LOVE FOR THE FIRST TIME!

Feeling a little dizzy, I make a conscious decision to
begin breathing again unless I want to pass out.  I suck a
deep breath into my burning lungs and bite my lip for
control.  Slow and steady, I push forward until I feel the
resistance of cervix and push gently just a little further
to embed myself to the hilt, my balls plastered against her
ass.  I stop there, holding still as I can and reveling in
the hot silky tightness engulfing me.  I could come this
second if I let myself.

I curl my fingernails into my palms in an effort to regain
some control.  Scully is letting out little puffs of breath
against my neck.  "So good, Mulder, you feel incredible, so
good, OH, you're stretching me, yeah."

Her hot breath whispered into my ear with her declaration.
I shiver and continue shaking slightly, feeling the
weakness in my arms and legs.  "Don't move for a minute,
Scully."  She nods, understanding my dilemma.  She is
generous enough not to mention that I'm shaking like a
virgin teenager.

She looks up at me and I drop my head down for another
slow, soft kiss.  I relax into the feel of her lips against
mine, her gentle tongue caressing my own.  I break the
kiss, feeling my equilibrium return.  My shaking has
stilled for the moment.  "Scully, I'm almost afraid to
move.  I want this to last."

"Don't worry about it.  That magic tongue of yours already
made me come.  And you feel so damn good inside me.  I'm
going to enjoy this no matter what."

"You're being entirely too kind, Scully." <Magic tongue?>

"No, I'm not.  I know it's hard, it's been a long time for
both of us."  She pauses.  "Has it been a long time for
you?"  She is suddenly unsure?

I smile.  "It's been forever, and yes, it's hard.  That's
the understatement of the century."

She laughs gently at my double meaning.  "Move now, don't
worry."

I nod and begin a slow retreat, immediately moaning at the
sensation of her hot slick walls sliding against my shaft.
I stroke slowly back into her, watching her face.  I set up
a pathetically slow rhythm, determined to last as long as I
can, despite her reassurance.

Even so, about a minute is all I can manage before I
involuntarily begin to speed up, primal instinct and need
for release taking over.  I've been over stimulated since I
was sitting on her couch and well, I can't help it.

Within thirty seconds of increasing my speed, I'm pounding
furiously into her, groaning at the incredible squeeze that
occurs with every plunge into her.  My head is buried into
her neck now and I latch on and begin to suck where her
neck meets her shoulder.

She is meeting me thrust for thrust, undaunted by my
frenzied pace.  She is unbelievably tight.  I've never been
inside anyone this snug and tight.  The sensations are so
intense.  They are overwhelming because it is Scully.  THIS
IS SCULLY!  She begins to chant, "Ooo, ooo, ooo," each time
slide inside.

I feel her raise her legs higher above my waist.  This
tilts her hips up and the angle causes me sink even deeper
into her depths.  That's it, I'm going to lose it.  I can't
help it.

"Scully, oh god, I'm gonna come, can't help it."

I'm shocked when I hear her say, "Oh, me too."

Two more strokes and I feel a mighty throb in my shaft,
followed by a spasm in my balls and I explode, literally.
My voice is wild, raw as I wail into her poor little ear.
"Scccuuulllyyy, OH GOD! OH GOD!  YES, YES, YES! LOVE YOU!
HOLY SHIT! SCCUULLY! AHHH, AHHH."

Just then, I feel her walls clamp down on me, release and
begin to milk me for all I'm worth.  She shouts, "Oh
Mulder, I'm coming, yes, I'm coming again, yes, whooaaa."

I'm ejaculating so hard it's making me dizzy.  My vision
just went dim.  I can no longer form any coherent words,
but my throat continues to wail an "Aaahhhh" sort of sound
as I experience the most intense orgasm of my entire life.
It's never been this good, it's never lasted this long.
I've never come this hard in my life.  I've had some pretty
good orgasms between my legs.  But this is the first time I
ever felt one from the tip of my toes to the crown of my
head.  A full body experience.

My spirit disengages and I can see myself thrashing on top
of her tiny body.  My consciousness races back down to my
body and I feel myself melting into her, blending with her.
I can feel her unconditional love and joy pour over me in
waves.  I can feel her, feel what she feels for me and I
try to give it back.  It's the only way I can describe the
feeling of two souls meant for each other, exploding with
celebration at finally being connected.

**

Excuse me while I die and go to heaven!  This man can fuck!
But it's more than that.  The erogenous zone between my
ears is competing with the one between my legs for
dominance.  Neither is winning, they are blending into one
gigantic wave of pleasure as I hear him grunt, groan and
shake on top of me.  Knowing that I am making this
incredibly passionate man lose control is a heady feeling.

But he is making me lose control too.  It's never been like
this.  I can feel my heart racing as fast as his.  I am
meeting him grunt for grunt, groan for groan and tremor for
tremor.  We are so synchronized.  It's an overwhelming,
awesome thing.  We are not just fucking.  Although it is
wild and fast and hard.  We are making love, despite the
loss of control.  I see it in his face as he lifts his head
from my shoulder.  His awe, his wonder, his disbelief at
the feeling, his love for me are all evident in the lines
of his face and his eyes.  I am humbled by it.

I feel the pleasure spike into the red zone just as I hear
him say, "Scully, oh god, I'm gonna come, can't help it."
Like he has anything to apologize for.  That's all I
needed.

I squeak out, "Oh, me too."

Those few words and the feel of him washing my insides a
couple of strokes later with spray after spray of warmth
and I am leaping into the abyss.  The convulsions of my
orgasm rip through my body.  My walls grip him over and
over in a near death grip of desperation to pull him so
deep inside he can never find his way out.  His wails
almost hurt my ear, but my shrieks are just as loud.  My
brain took a vacation from reality in order to process the
pleasure without passing out.  Almost from outside myself,
I hear my voice shouting his name and other nonsense.

I just felt something extraordinary.  I might even have to
admit to a paranormal experience.  Our waves of pleasure
joined.  I could feel what he felt for me, love, utter joy
at being connected to me.  We just became one person,
together.

He collapses on top of me as we ride out the aftershocks
that shudder through us.  Sweat is slicking both our bodies
and his weight feels divine.  He lifts himself and I
mumble, "No, stay."

Without protest, he collapses on me again.  When our
breathing returns to normal, he slides out of me carefully.
I moan at the loss, but he pushes me onto my side and pulls
my back into his chest, spooning me and squeezing me
tightly, laying as much of my body against his as possible.

He nuzzles my neck and says, "I love you, Scully."

"Mmm, I love you too."

"Feels weird to be able to say it out loud like that."

"Yeah, it does, but it feels good too.  God, Mulder, I feel
like a thousand pound weight has been lifted off my
shoulders.

"I know what you mean."  He pauses.  As if he's talking to
himself, "That was the best sex I've ever had."  He sounds
stunned.

I giggle.  "I'm glad, same here, but don't sound so stunned
or I might take offense."

He squeezes me again.  "I knew it would be good, but God,
I've never experienced anything like that, Scully.  It was
almost an out of body experience."

I would normally laugh at a comment like that but I know
exactly what he means.  I lost sight of the rest of the
world too.  I am whispering and I'm not sure why, maybe
because I'm afraid a regular voice will shatter the peace
in my soul right now.  "Mulder, it was like we were the
only two people in the universe."

He nuzzles me again.  "Like we were one person?"  It is
more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah, two halves of a whole.  I'm glad you told me read
that journal entry."

He snickers.  "If I had known it would entice you into
making a naughty film for me, I would have told you a long
time ago."

I flushed, slightly embarrassed at what I had done
suddenly.  "I don't really know what made me do it.  I was
afraid to just be there when you got home.  I was afraid
face to face, it might get all balled up or we would be too
nervous to talk.  I know that sounds silly, considering how
well we know each other but still."

"No I know what you mean.  We may know each other well as
friends and partners, but there is still a lot we don't
know about each other in regard to romantic relationships.
It's not as if it's something that we've discussed in
detail."

"Exactly and I wanted to be sure that you got the message.
I didn't want you to wonder what I wanted or us to be
awkward if I tried to tell you to your face.  And frankly,
I knew that you would have a hard time believing it if I
just said it.  I wanted to show you that you weren't alone.
That you had been in my fantasies too."

"Do you know that I don't ever remember feeling this
happy."

"Me neither."

"Christ, I hope I don't wake up soon."

I chuckled.  "You won't.  I'm real.  This is real.  In
fact, this is the most real thing that has ever happened to
me."

"I love you."

"I love you, too.  Hey, are you hungry, I have pot roast."

"Not yet, let me hold you like this for a while."

"It's too early to sleep."

"Says who?"

I chuckle.  "Maybe a little nap."

"Mmm, a nap and then we can do this again."

"Again?"

"Mmm, again.

"I've created a monster."

"Yes, you have."

"Tell me again, Mulder."

His voice is hushed but reverent and he brushes a lock of
hair behind my ear.  "I love you so much, Scully."  He
pauses.  "I need to hear it again too."

I smile a contented smile.  It's not as hard as I thought
it would be to say this out loud.  "I love you too, Mulder,
very much."

He nuzzled me again, humming in the back of his throat and
exhausted, despite that it was only a little after 4:00 PM,
we fell into a peaceful sleep.

THE END.