Undercover2.html

Undercover II

by Danielle Culverson
smythja@aston.ac.uk

Date: Wed, 28 May 1997

This is a fiction story based on the characters created by Chris
Carter. No infringement of copyrights held by 10/13 Productions,
Twentieth Century Productions, or Fox Broadcasting is intended.
All unrecognised characters and plot-lines belong to me. Names,
characters, and places exist solely within my imagination, or are
used fictitiously. No connection to any person, living or dead, is
intended, and any resemblance is entirely coincidental. Feel free
to distribute, but please keep me as the author.

Rating - 12 (PG-13)

No spoilers. - I suggest you read "Undercover" before reading this.

Danielle Culverson.

~~~

Undercover 2. Part 1/4.

     The door to the outer office opened, and a dark haired man
     entered. He crossed the room to the secretary's desk, and
     she looked up from the meeting minutes she was typing up to
     look at him.

"Assistant Director Skinner requested to see me." he told
the middle-aged woman. She nodded.

"He'll be with you in a few minutes, Agent Mulder, if you'd
like to take a seat."

     Special Agent Fox Mulder nodded, and moved to the row of
     four imitation leather easy chairs that ran along one wall.
     Sitting down, his eyes moved to the wooden door that bore a
     plaque, - "Assistant Director Walter Skinner".

     Mulder took a deep breath, and lowered his head into his
     hands, his elbows balancing on his knees. For once he
     looked reasonably smart, his hair in place, his tie still
     knotted at his collar, which was still fastened. But the
     expression in his eyes told a different story from the smart
     clothes which told of a good FBI agent.

     His hazel eyes, which had always been filled with an
     expression of pain, and a long-felt desire, now held a newer
     hurt. The hurt which etched lines on his usually
     young-looking face, and shaded circles under his eyes.

He had been so close to finding something perfect.

*They* had been so close.

And then in a moment it had been ripped away.

Scully.

     Her name ran round and round in his head like a caged animal
     trying to get free, breaking into his thoughts every time he
     stopped concentrating on blocking it out. What had happened
     to her had been terrible, and he had been unable to do
     anything to help her...

     The door to the outer office opened, and a woman came in.
     She was petite, and auburn-haired. Her dark blue skirt and
     jacket were well-pressed, and not a hair was out of place on
     her head. She wore the minimum of make up, and most of this
     was to hide the dark circles which she too had beneath her
     eyes. She crossed the room to where her partner was
     sitting, and sat down at his side without a word.

She looked perfectly normal and confident.

     Only Mulder could see the pain in her eyes, the slight
     hesitancy in her walk, and recognise the loss of vitality in
     her movements. Nobody who didn't know would have been able
     to tell from her appearance that she had recently been the
     victim of a violent rape.

The secretary looked up from her desk, and smiled at the two
agents.

"Assistant Director Skinner is free to see you now." she
said.

     Mulder's eyebrows rose in surprise as he realised that he
     had been so deep in his contemplation of Scully that he
     hadn't heard the secretary's intercom beep. - Usually when
     he was called to account in Skinner's office he was so tense
     that he would be waiting for it. - But not this time.

     The two agents stood almost in synchronisation, and Mulder
     moved slightly ahead of his partner towards the door.
     Opening it, he held it for her as she entered, and then
     closed it behind her. - This apparent chivalry was no
     after-effect of what had happened or Scully wouldn't have
     stood for it. - It was just the way he was.

     They approached Skinner's desk, and the balding ex-marine
     looked up and invited them to sit down with a wave of his
     hand. They sat in the two chairs in front of the oak desk.

     Skinner took of his glasses, and scrutinised both the agents
     carefully. His sharp eyes took in more than most people
     would have seen, noting the hurt and pain in both
     expressions, but he wasn't as aware of their emotions as
     much as they were of each others.

     "I would have congratulated you on some good work," he said
     slowly, "but I think under the circumstances, it would be a
     little tasteless." Lifting one hand to pinch a small
     headache from the bridge of his nose, Skinner rested his
     other on the file which was open on the desk in front of
     him. "I've already spoken to Agents Kirren and Stanton, but
     after what happened I decided it was best I spoke to you
     separately. - I'm very pleased that the four of you caught
     the men responsible for the murders, it was a good result,
     and probably a consequence of your profiling, Agent Mulder."
     Skinner nodded towards the dark-haired agent in front of
     him.

     Mulder nodded vaguely, but knew that he had done little but
     suggest a good hotel for setting up their cover. What he
     *had* done, however, but neither of them would inform
     Skinner, was lose his concentration as his thoughts turned
     rather unprofessionally towards his partner.

     Skinner paused, and then turned towards Scully. He
     hesitated again, uncertain quite what to say to the agent
     who had always been so self-assured and independent. She
     didn't seem to have lost much of that confidence, and he
     hoped that it would remain that way.

     "Agent Scully, I'm very sorry about what happened. -
     Possibly it was a misjudgment on my part to send the two of
     you under cover on a case like this one, but at the time I
     believed it to be the best option for pin-pointing the
     offenders.

     "Agent Mulder, your actions and quick thinking in the
     circumstances almost certainly saved both your lives, and I
     shall be issuing a report of commendation to go in your
     personnel file." Skinner paused momentarily again.

     "Agent Scully, I'd like you to take whatever time you need
     off to recover from this regrettable incident. The Bureau
     will also pay for you to see a private counsellor of your
     own choice if you wish, or you can see Karen Kossoff again
     if you'd rather."

     "It's alright, sir, I don't need to see a counsellor."
     Scully spoke for the first time since she had arrived, and
     her voice was firm, if a little quiet, "And I don't need
     any time off work. - I'd rather get back to our cases."

     "Scully..." Mulder began, a note of caution in his voice.
     Seeing the determination in her face, he stopped. - She
     would not be pressed on something like this, and he knew
     that.

So did Skinner. "Okay, well if you change your mind, the
offer's open."

     The Assistant Director nodded dismissal to the two agents,
     and they got to their feet, and moved towards the door,
     Scully a little ahead of her partner this time. Skinner
     watched them leave, then he closed his eyes and rested his
     forehead in his upturned palms, giving a small sigh of
     exasperation. - They were both as stubborn as each other.

* * *

     Mulder followed Scully into her house, and closed the door
     behind him. She went into the main room, and he went in
     after her, watching her every move as she crossed to the
     table to put down her briefcase, and then shrugged off her
     overcoat. Slipping off his own coat likewise, he hung it on
     the back of a chair, and then sat down in one of Scully's
     armchairs. She moved to the sofa, and sat down.

     Mulder could see the quietness about her, the stillness.
     His heart ached to see her so affected by what had happened,
     and it ached still more when his thoughts reminded him again
     that he hadn't been able to stop it. He had been caught
     with his guard down, more interested in pursuing the chance
     of a deeper relationship with Scully than the case they were
     supposed to be working on, and look this was what had
     happened.

     The chance of a deeper relationship with Scully. - He had
     never really thought it was possible that she might feel
     similarly for him as he did for her. His
     more-than-partnerly feelings for her had always been pushed
     to the side as something that would only drive them apart if
     she ever found out. But that night, in the stillness of
     their hotel room, when he had heard her speak his name so
     tenderly in her dreams, with a smile on her face, something
     in his heart had been deeply touched. And when she had
     woken in their shared bed, and he had told her what she had
     said, she had admitted her feelings to him.

     "I guess I don't consider having to share a room and a bed
     with you a part of our work to be endured." she had said.
     His mind had instantly shot into overdrive, trying to
     ascertain whether she meant what his heart was trying to
     tell him she meant, and trying to get his words straight
     before they came tumbling out of his mouth and landed him in
     deep trouble.

"What are you saying Dana? Is there something personal in
our relationship for you?"

     And she had nodded. Every thought and feeling he had ever
     had for her had coalesced in that moment into a feeling of
     pure joy. He had drawn her closer to him, although in her
     sleep she had already half-embraced him, and moved his lips
     to hers.

     Then the men had come. Everything had turned upside down in
     an instant, and the two partners just discovering the realms
     of possibility outside their professional lives had to snap
     back into their professional roles again.

     Only they hadn't been quick enough. And Scully had paid the
     price for both of them. It was like a sign warning against
     their new relationship.

     Scully looked at her partner from the sofa, and saw his
     reflections in his eyes. He was lost in thought, and
     although his eyes were towards her, they were no longer
     focused on her, and she allowed hers to focus on him.

     She knew what he was thinking, - as always. - He was blaming
     himself for what had happened, when it hadn't been either of
     their faults, or if it had it had been both of them. After
     all, she had chosen that moment to admit her feelings to her
     partner. Although she had been aware that her love for her
     partner was more than just that for a close friend, she had
     refrained from telling him until then through uncertainty
     about his reaction. But when he had pursued her cryptic
     statement with his question which had cut straight to her
     heart, she had had no choice but to give him a straight
     answer, and hope that if he could ask the question, he was
     as open to the extremes of the possible answers as he
     normally was when pursuing a case.

An exhilaration greater than any she had ever felt had
rushed through her when he had said in his low, husky voice,

"And all this time I thought I was the only one!"

Then he had started to kiss her, and then it had all gone
wrong.

Scully turned away from the progression of that thought, and
back to her partner's contemplations.

"Mulder." she said sharply. He looked up at her, surprised
at her tone. "There's no reason for you to blame yourself."

Mulder lowered his head, convicted, "But I should have
stopped them..." he began in weak protest.

     "You *did* stop them. - You stopped them from killing us
     both. You saved our lives. - Now if you don't stop looking
     so glum about it, I shall start feeling I was inadequate as
     well, for I was surely as much at fault as you were for not
     paying attention to our assignment."

     Mulder nodded his head in acceptance of her words, and then
     looked up at her. Still seeing pain he didn't like in her
     eyes, he asked,

     "What about you, Scully? You refused Skinner's offer of
     time off and counseling, but you must be a little
     disorientated after what happened."

     Scully shook her head. "I'm fine, Mulder, really. - It
     shook me up at the time, but there's no damage done."
     Mulder frowned, not fully believing her answer.

     "Scully, it's okay to be affected by it. - Anyone would be,
     and although you're the strongest person I know, that
     doesn't mean you won't be upset by what happened."

     "What happened!" Scully cried suddenly, anger surfacing in
     her voice, "Why does everyone keep skirting around the
     subject? - I was raped, okay? Duncan Mansfield raped me,
     and you, Kirren, Stanton, and his brother all saw it happen.
     It makes me feel dirty, humiliated, degraded, and helpless.
     But avoiding mentioning it isn't going to make it go away!"

     Mulder stared at his partner, and saw tears appear in her
     eyes. He moved quickly from his seat to the sofa at her
     side, and gently took her hands in his. His eyes met hers,
     and she saw they were filled with compassion and
     understanding. Swallowing back her tears and pain, she
     lowered her head slightly so she wouldn't have to look into
     his probing eyes. After drawing comfort from him for a few
     silent minutes, she extricated her hands from his as well,
     and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

     Mulder broke the silence. "Scully, before they arrived, we
     were discussing something important. I understand if you
     don't want to talk about that yet, but we've got to sort it
     out at some point."

     Scully looked up at Mulder, her eyes wide and almost
     fearful. "What's to talk about?" she asked, her voice
     barely above a whisper.

     "Well, we both admitted to some pretty strong feelings, and
     we're going to have to address those, and decide if we want
     to act on them or not."

     It sounded terribly logical, and more the sort of thing she
     would have expected to say herself than to hear coming from
     her partner, but it gave her a tremendous feeling of relief.
     She let out a sigh.

     "I was afraid you had regretted what we said, and were going
     to avoid mentioning it." she said quietly, her eyes down.
     Mulder shook his head, also not lifting his eyes towards his
     partner. - They had been platonic partners for so long that
     now it was difficult to make declarations like this.

     "I don't regret anything that happened that night before the
     Mansfields arrived." he replied. After a moment's pause,
     he continued, "I've had these feelings for a long time, but
     until I heard you speak my name so tenderly in your sleep
     that night, I never considered that you might possibly feel
     the same."

Scully looked up at him, and their eyes met.

     "Maybe something good did come out of that night, after
     all." she said. Mulder smiled faintly, and lifted one hand
     to draw her head towards his for a kiss. Scully looked
     willing enough, but when his hand touched the back of her
     neck, she jerked away sharply, and pulled away from him.
     Mulder let his hand drop back to the sofa again, surprised.
     Scully saw the pain in his eyes, and hers filled with tears.

* * *

     Mulder turned the t.v. in his hotel room off. - The late
     night film had just finished, and there was nothing else he
     was interested in watching. He hadn't been able to
     concentrate much on the film anyway, his mind being too
     occupied with the case he and his partner were working on.

     It was three weeks since the close of the Mansfield case,
     and they were on their first major assignment, tracking down
     the cause of a mysterious food poisoning which had broken
     out in New Jersey. The case was pretty routine, for them at
     least, and Mulder suspected that Skinner was being careful
     about their workload after the strains of their previous
     case.

     Scully was in the adjoining hotel room, long asleep by now.
     Mulder's thoughts turned to her as they always did, and
     almost always had in the dead of night since he had met her.
     Their personal relationship was on hold until Scully felt
     ready to begin it, as the rape incident had apparently
     instiled a fear of being touched into her. Mulder knew she
     wanted to begin the relationship, but every time he touched
     her, she couldn't help but pull away from him. He just
     hoped that between them they would be able to work it out.

     Mulder swung his long legs off his bed, and got to his feet.
     He went to the window, and looked out from his darkened room
     at the street-light polluted sky of New Jersey. The clouds
     hung low overhead, and he could see nothing of the stars.
     Somewhere above a police helicopter was working, and he
     caught a brief glimpse of it's searchlight as it passed
     overhead. Closing the curtains, he moved towards the
     bathroom, and went in. He turned on the light above the
     mirror, and looked at his reflection.

     The man staring back at him looked older than his years at
     the moment. Too much emotional trauma had deepened his
     hazel eyes, and darkened his face beneath them. The
     insomnia which plagued him nightly was evident in those dark
     circles, and the haunted expression which shaped his
     features whenever he was alone with his thoughts at night, -
     which was often.

     Turning off the light again, Mulder left the bathroom,
     intent on trying to sleep, even without anything on the
     television. As he crossed his room to his bed, he heard a
     cry coming from his partner's room.

     Mulder's eyes widened in horror, and he turned towards the
     door that linked to his partner's room. Pulling it open, he
     ran inside, and to her bedside. Switching on the bedside
     light, he looked down at Scully's face as she screamed again
     in her sleep.

     "No!!!!" Her cry was anguished, and it tore at Mulder's
     heart. He took her hand in his, - the only physical contact
     she would usually permit since the rape, - and spoke softly.

"It's alright, Scully, I'm here. - I'm here, and I'm not
going to leave you."

     Scully's eyes flew open, fixing first on the ceiling above
     her, and then on Mulder's face. She swallowed convulsively,
     and he squeezed the hand he held.

"Are you alright?" he asked, and his concern was evident in
his eyes and his tone. She nodded shakily.

"Just a bad dream." she replied.

"Pretty bad. - You were screaming."

"I'm sorry, - did I wake you?" Scully asked. Mulder
smiled, and shook his head.

"No, I hadn't got to sleep yet anyway. What were you
dreaming about?"

     Scully turned her head away, and Mulder resisted the
     powerful urge to turn her face gently back towards him with
     one hand, not wanting to isolate her further by causing her
     to withdraw from him.

"Scully, you can tell me. - I know all about bad dreams,
remember?"

     Scully nodded with a weak smile. - Mulder had certainly had
     more than his fair share of bad dreams during the time she
     had known him.

"Just my mind, reliving the rape." she admitted finally.
Mulder nodded, having suspected as much.

     "That probably means your subconscious is coming to terms
     with it." he said, "It's good, although I know it doesn't
     feel it."

     "Your subconscious never came to terms with it." Scully
     said sharply, and then immediately regretted her
     unconsidered words when she saw the old pain surface on
     Mulder's face. "I'm sorry." she whispered. Compassion
     flooded across Mulder's face.

     "You don't have to be." he replied. Scully smiled weakly,
     and took a deep breath. Closing her eyes, she allowed the
     comfort of Mulder's presence to lull her back to sleep
     again.

End of part 1.

I'd greatly appreciate any comments or constructive criticism from fellow
X-Philes. Email me at <smythja@bravo.aston.ac.uk>.

Danielle Culverson.

I am forwarding this story for the author, Danielle Culverson
(smythja@aston.ac.uk).
She would appreciate receiving your comments.

Sorry, but I forgot to add the Summary to Part I; you'll find it below.

Gerry

Summary: Continuing from "Undercover", this story follows Scully's
reaction to the rape, and the difficulties it causes in
her
early relationship with Mulder

Rated: 12 (PG-13)

Danielle Culverson.

Part 2/4.

* * *

     Scully walked quickly around the corner and into a corridor
     on the first floor of the J. Edgar Hoover building. It was
     a little used corridor, in the middle of the administrative
     area, and Scully had herself been down it less times than
     she could count on her fingers. She slowed her pace
     slightly, and glanced behind her to see if anyone she knew
     was nearby, still not wanting to admit to any inadequacy.
     Then she turned quickly towards a door marked, "Karen
     Kossoff - Counsellor".

     Scully entered Karen Kossoff's office, and swallowed
     reflexively. The last time she had been in here had been
     when the Donnie Pfaster case had got to her so much that she
     had had to leave Mulder at the crime scene and return to
     Washington in order to get away from it, even if it had only
     been for a few hours. She believed that talking her
     feelings over with Karen had helped her then, although any
     confidence she had regained had immediately been banished on
     her return to Minneapolis, when she had been abducted by
     Pfaster herself.

     Karen had also helped her and Mulder when they were working
     on the Holvey case, although that case had been so strange
     that anything the counsellor had done had had little effect
     on matters, other than the revelation that Charlie Holvey
     was aware of the twin brother he had never been told about,
     who had died at birth.

     Scully crossed the small outer room to the door which led
     into Karen's main office, and knocked lightly. A moment
     later there was an answering call.

"Come in?"

     Scully opened the door, and went inside. Karen, who was
     sitting at a pine desk, pushed her swivel chair back a
     little, and invited Scully in with a gesture.

"Good morning, Dana, - would you like to sit down?"

     Scully moved across the room and sat down in the chair near
     the window that Karen had indicated. Karen moved her own
     chair a little closer to Scully as she sat down, and sat
     back to quickly scrutinise the agent's appearance.

     Scully looked as smart and efficient as always, although she
     had more difficulty meeting Karen's eyes than she normally
     did. Her hands twined together in her lap, and for a few
     moments she studied them intently, waiting for Karen to
     begin the conversation. Finally, the counsellor did.

"I heard about what happened to you." she said gently, "I
suppose that's why you're here?"

     Scully nodded in silence, opened her mouth to speak, but for
     long moments couldn't get any words out. Finally she
     managed to voice what she was thinking.

"I thought I could manage, but... it's not getting any
easier." she said carefully. Karen nodded.

"It's only been two months. - You need to give yourself more
time."

     "But it's hard!" Scully exclaimed, and looked up at Karen
     briefly before returning her gaze to her hands. In that one
     glimpse of the agent's eyes, Karen saw an eternity or
     emotional pain. Scully was already close to tears, just
     trying to talk about what she was feeling. "I... I can't
     put it behind me. It's in my thoughts, all the time, and I
     just want to forget it."

     "Have you been able to talk to anyone else about it before
     now?" Karen asked, "Your partner perhaps? - I understand
     he was there at the time."

Scully shook her head, "I can't talk to Mulder. - He'd
understand, I know, but I'm just so *ashamed*..."

"You've no reason to be. - In your mind you know that, don't
you?"

Scully nodded again, "But he saw it happening,... - it
makes it harder."

     "You really need to talk to him about this. - Storing it all
     up inside yourself isn't going to make it any easier to get
     over it." Karen paused when she saw Scully continuing to
     shake her head in denial of the suggestion. "Do you blame
     your partner for not being able to stop it happening?"

     "No!" Scully shook her head, and looked up at Karen in
     surprise, her eyes still shining with unfallen tears, "No,
     it's not his fault. He thinks it is, but we were both there
     to do a job, and it was up to me as much as him. As it was
     he saved our lives, - we'd both have been killed if he
     hadn't managed to call Agent Stanton."

     There was a long pause in the small room. Karen kept the
     silence, waiting for Scully to break it. Eventually she
     did.

     "Ever since the rape, I've not been able to cope with
     physical contact. - Every time someone tries to touch me, I
     can't help pulling away. I can let Mulder touch my hand,
     but that's all, and even that sometimes makes me want to
     move away."

     Karen nodded in understanding. "That's perfectly normal
     after any violent attack. - Most people find that they can't
     abide being touched, even by their closest friends and loved
     ones. - You may well find that your personal relationships
     are similarly affected, but the only comfort I can really
     offer is to tell you that it *will* pass. - And the more you
     can talk to people about the way you're feeling, the quicker
     it will happen."

     Scully lowered her head, and Karen sighed inwardly, knowing
     that the strong-minded and independent agent was taking very
     little of her advice in. There was only one more thing she
     could offer.

"If you can't talk to anyone else, at least keep coming to
me, and let your feelings out."

     But as Scully went out of the door with a mask-like smile
     and a word of thanks ten minutes later, Karen knew that she
     almost certainly wouldn't return. - Not with *this* problem,
     at least.

* * *

     Scully came out of Mulder's kitchenette, and slumped down
     onto his couch, a weary smile on her face. He followed her
     out, and sat down next to her, being careful not to touch
     her. - After nearly five months this was becoming a habit to
     him now, although it was one he sincerely wished to break.

     They had just finished washing up after dinner, which Mulder
     had cooked for them in celebration of having finished their
     previous case, and not having anything pressing to do at
     present.

     The case, - the disappearance of a single mother in Ohio, -
     had taken them nearly three weeks to complete, and they had
     both been feeling drained, so they had agreed to meet at
     Mulder's apartment and have a relaxing evening off work.
     spending the evening together as close friends though, was
     as far as their relationship had yet got, much to the silent
     consternation of both partners.

     Scully let her head drop back against the couch, and she
     stared up at the ceiling, which was cracked and marked. Her
     sharp eyes fixed on what looked like a bit of cobweb, and
     she absently wondered how often Mulder cleaned the pit he
     called his home.

     Mulder rubbed his hands over his face in an attempt to make
     himself feel a little more awake, but it only brought a yawn
     to his mouth. A moment later, Scully yawned as well, and
     Mulder smiled.

"Catching, isn't it?" he said. Scully lifted her head to
look at him, one eyebrow raised.

"What?"

"Yawning, - it's contagious. - I yawned just now, and a
moment later you yawned as well."

"But I didn't see you yawn, or hear you." Scully protested.
Mulder grinned.

"See, I knew you were telepathic."

     Scully opened her mouth to retort, but then thought better
     of it, and closed her lips again. During the brief
     conversation they had both sat up, and now they were staring
     into each other's eyes. Scully could almost feel invisible
     bonds of energy passing between them, as their thoughts,
     feelings, and desires were laid open to each other in their
     eyes. Then Mulder leaned slowly towards her, his expression
     hopeful and cautious as his lips approached hers.

     Scully steeled herself not to pull back as his lips brushed
     softly over hers, and then pressed down more firmly. She
     didn't want to see that pain in his eyes again, - the pain
     she had seen on the previous occasions when she had been
     unable to accept his touches. - But she couldn't respond to
     his kiss, it was all she could do not to draw away, and
     after a few moments he pulled back himself, aware of her
     discomfort.

     "Scully?" he asked carefully, his eyes searching out hers,
     but she kept them lowered. She could feel his gaze probing
     her face for some clue as to her emotions. She closed her
     eyes for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Mulder, I'm trying as hard as I can."

     Mulder shook his head sorrowfully, "I know you are, Scully,
     and I don't want you to try if it's hard. - I just want to
     help you. I want to know what you're feeling, so I can help
     you through it."

"I can't, Mulder. - I can't talk to you about it. Not this
time."

"Why not?" he asked gently. She shook her head slowly, not
really hearing him. "Why not?" he asked again.

     "Because I can't, okay?" Scully yelled suddenly, "I don't
     know what I'm feeling, and I don't know why this is
     happening, but I can't talk about it now..."

     Leaping to her feet, sudden tears streaming down her face,
     she ran to the door, and tried to open it. A sharp pull
     revealed it to be locked, but she kept pulling and pulling
     at the handle, sobbing all the while.

Mulder came up behind her quietly, and moved towards the
door.

     "Here, let me..." he reached carefully past her, allowing
     her time to move back a little so his hand wouldn't touch
     her. The key was in the lock, - Scully hadn't seen it in
     her struggle with the door. - Mulder unlocked it carefully,
     and then stepped back from the door. Fixing his eyes on
     Scully's tear streaked face, and seeing her eyes were still
     fixed on the door, he spoke again, quietly.

"You can go if you want to, - but I wish you wouldn't."

     Scully turned her face slowly towards him, her eyes wide and
     uncomprehending. "You want me to stay?" she asked
     eventually. He nodded.

"I'd like you to stay. - Please don't go."

     Scully considered his face for a long moment as she regained
     control of her emotions, and then nodded slightly and turned
     to go back to the couch. Sitting down, she spoke in a low
     voice.

"I don't know why this is happening. - I want to touch you
so much, I don't understand why I can't."

"Don't try and rush yourself." Mulder advised, "You'll get
over this in time."

     "But it's been five months already!" Scully cried, her
     voice anguished, "I want to move forward with you, explore
     what we have together..." She lowered her head, unable to
     hold his gaze as she spoke her next words, "I want so much
     to hold you, to be your lover. - Why can't I cope when you
     touch me, if it's what I want so much?"

Mulder shook his head, "I don't know, Scully, but it
doesn't matter. You take as long as you need."

     She looked up, and met his gaze. Bracing her nerves, she
     reached out cautiously with her left hand, and rested it on
     top of his. After a few moments he allowed his fingers to
     gently curl around hers, until he was holding her hand in
     his. He rose to his feet.

"You're tired." he stated, "We've shared a bed
platonically before. - Why can't we do it again?"

     Scully gave way to his gentle tugging on her hand, and
     followed him out of the main room, and into his bedroom, her
     tears still drying on her cheeks.

End of part 2.

I'd greatly appreciate any comments or constructive criticism from fellow
X-Philes. Email me at <smythja@aston.ac.uk>.

Danielle Culverson.

I am forwarding this story for the author, Danielle Culverson
(smythja@aston.ac.uk). She would appreciate receiving your comments.

Gerry

Danielle Culverson.

Part 3/4.

* * *

     Mulder parked the hire car in front of Kernham police
     station, and switched the engine off. He suppressed a yawn
     as he reached into the back seat of the car to get his and
     Scully's overcoats, - it had been a long day.

     They had arrived at Bureau Headquarters that morning, to be
     greeted with a call from Skinner's secretary, asking them to
     go up and see the Assistant Director immediately. They had
     gone, - Mulder feeling very nervous as sudden, unexpected
     calls usually meant he had done something wrong, - but
     Skinner had presented them with a new case.

Well, at this point it couldn't really be called a case.

     The only information Skinner could give them was that the
     police chief in Kernham, Texas, had requested the FBI's
     involvement in a series of murders taking place in the large
     town. Due to a problem with the communication lines, the
     fax report Chief Hollis had been sending about the case had
     not been able to get through, and Mulder and Scully had been
     sent to Texas knowing nothing more than the name of the
     police chief, and the fact that a series of murders had
     taken place in and around Kernham.

After that the day had just gone downhill.

     They had got stuck in a traffic jam on their way to the
     airport, and so had rushed all the way there believing they
     would have missed their flight. Then, on arrival, they
     found that the flight had been delayed ten hours for some
     mysterious "technical" reason.

     After hours spent sitting in the smoky airport cafe,
     drinking coffee that was either too watery, or too strong,
     with milk from plastic cartons that tasted like it had long
     gone off, their flight had begun boarding.

     Mulder, bored from the wait, and more than usually depressed
     for the beginning of a case which looked to be no more than
     a fairly "routine" murder case, had neglected to tell an
     over-zealous airport security guard who wanted to check his
     bags that he was an FBI agent. - Scully had to wait for him
     while the guard went through his travel bag, and finally on
     checking Mulder's clothes discovered his gun. At this point
     Mulder revealed his identity, and the crushed guard had to
     let him continue to board. By this time Scully's mood was
     also not good.

     The flight had been too bumpy for them to work or sleep, -
     even Mulder, who could usually sleep anywhere, was kept
     awake by the constant rocking and jolting. The in-flight
     food was not much better than what they had eaten on the
     ground in the airport cafe.

     On disembarking, the narrow corridor leading away from the
     'plane had been busy with people, and one man, apparently in
     a rush to make up for his late arrival, brushed close
     against Scully as he hurried past, startling a short cry
     from her. She had now reached the point where she could
     cope with physical contact when she knew it was coming, but
     still found it impossible to enjoy it. Her "close
     encounter", as Mulder put it, in the airport upset her
     though, as she wanted to be over that phase of her recovery.
     Mulder, understanding her anxiety, had caught her eyes with
     his, gently put his hand on hers, and led her out of the
     crowd to where it was quieter.

     Then they had had to drive from Houston, seventy miles to
     Kernham. The drive had been quite good, - fortunately, -
     but they were both exhausted by the time they arrived.

     It didn't show, though, as they got out of the hire car.
     Mulder straightened his tie, and Scully brushed the creases
     from her beige trousers and jacket. She accepted her brown
     overcoat from Mulder, and put it on. Then she picked up her
     briefcase, and walked with her partner up to the police
     station.

     The station was well lit inside, a pleasant contrast to the
     growing dusk outside. A young woman with curly blond hair,
     and overly-long fingernails sat at a desk to one side. All
     around the reception room were posters for the public's
     benefit, and photographs of wanted criminals. A couple of
     plastic-covered chairs stood opposite the receptionist's
     desk, and a few plants were dotted through the room.

     Two doors led out of the room, apart from the one the agents
     had entered through. One was closed, and although it had a
     reinforced glass pane at head-height in it, it had been
     covered over with paper on the reverse side. The other door
     was open.

The agents approached the receptionist.

     "Good evening, Miss... Harpland," Mulder read the woman's
     name from the plate on her desk, "Special Agents Fox Mulder
     and Dana Scully from the FBI. - We're here to see Chief
     Hollis." Mulder held up his ID in his left hand for the
     woman to see. A voice spoke from behind him.

"I'm glad you came so promptly."

     The two agents turned around to see a tall, dark-haired
     woman standing in the open doorway behind them. Her eyes
     were as dark as her hair, which was tied back in a
     pony-tail, and fell just past her shoulders, and she wore
     skin-tight blue jeans with her police uniform shirt. Her
     hands were in the pockets of her jeans, and she leaned
     against the frame of her office door as she scrutinised the
     agents closely. Then she smiled, and strode towards them.

     "I'm Jan Hollis. - Would you like to come into my office,
     and we can discuss the case in detail? - I gather not much
     of the information I sent reached you in Washington."

     "None of it, actually." Scully said, following the woman
     into the office, "Only a message through our superior that
     you'd requested the FBI's involvement with a series of
     murders here."

     Hollis nodded, "Okay, well I'll fill you in then." Mulder
     closed the door behind him, and glanced around at the
     photographs and posters he could see in the room. Scully
     took a seat on the wooden chair in front of Hollis' desk, as
     Hollis herself sat down behind it.

     "There've been five murders so far." she told the agents,
     pulling a file from the pile on her desk. She pulled out
     some photographs, and passed them to Mulder, who reached for
     them. "Five women, all between twenty-five and forty, all
     quite attractive, all single, and all living alone. Each
     one was found indoors, either in their home, or their place
     of work, - or in Lisa Starn's case, in a study room in the
     library. - Each of them was killed with a knife, apparently
     being stabbed in the stomach, and then sliced open, as you
     can see." Hollis waved a hand towards the pictures as
     Mulder handed them to his partner. Scully looked with the
     clinical detachment of a pathologist of the stark black and
     white photos of the five crime scenes. Even in black and
     white it was plain to see there had been a *lot* of blood.

     "Each of the women were found with their own stockings
     pushed into their mouths and used as gags. Each had bruises
     on their wrists, suggesting they had been tied or held
     during a struggle. Each had been violently raped, first by
     the attacker, and then using the knife with which he later
     killed them. - We haven't recovered the weapon."

     Mulder nodded, and then, subconsciously knowing that
     something was wrong, his eyes moved to Scully. He could
     only see the back of her head, but he could tell that she
     was no longer looking at the photographs she held in her
     hands. She sat very still, staring into nothing, and Mulder
     could see the slight tremor of her hands on her lap.

As though she felt his eyes on her, Scully sat up straight
very suddenly,

     "Excuse me." she said, and rose quickly to her feet,
     thrusting the photographs at Mulder as she hurried to the
     door, and left the office. Mulder stared after her in
     concern, and then became aware of Hollis' eyes on him. He
     turned back to her, and shrugged.

"Nature calls, I guess. - You were saying about the
weapon...?"

     Hollis continued her explanation of the progress so far,
     which wasn't much, while Mulder worried silently for his
     partner.

* * *

     The two agents slept side by side in Scully's double bed in
     Kernham's Grand Hotel. It had been nearly two weeks since
     their arrival in the town, and now they finally felt that
     they were getting somewhere with the case.

     After her initial trepidation about the case, Scully had set
     to work with more than her usual vigour, while Mulder had
     too more occupied keeping a watchful eye on her to get
     depressed over the slow beginning to the case. Now they
     felt that they were closing in on the killer, and they hoped
     to be back in Washington within the next four days.

     Mulder turned over in his sleep to face Scully, who lay on
     her back, one arm raised above her head, her auburn hair
     fanned out around her face. Even in his sleep Mulder was
     careful not to encroach onto her side of the bed.

     Sharing a bed was something they had done regularly over the
     last few weeks, although they had never done anything more
     than sleep. They still booked two adjoining rooms when
     working on cases, because, difficult though it was to
     remember when their romantic relationship was so barely
     there anyway, the Bureau frowned upon relationships between
     colleagues.

And they didn't need to give some of the Bureau's high-ups
any ammunition.

     Mulder stirred into wakefulness, subconsciously sensing that
     something was wrong, although at first nothing was evident
     as he strained his eyes to see around the darkened room, and
     listened carefully to the silence of the small hours of the
     morning, and Scully's breathing.

Scully's breathing.

     It was harsh, shallow, fast. Mulder fixed on it with a
     singular intensity so strong it seemed his heart would stop
     beating in his concentration. - Her breathing was much too
     fast.

     Her head whipped to one side suddenly with a strangled moan,
     and Mulder recognised the action with a feeling that felt
     like a lead weight in his heart, sinking it towards his
     stomach as his chest crushed in around it. - He had seen her
     head turn to the side in that exact same way that night...

     "No!!!" Scully bolted awake with a blood-curdling scream,
     an expression of panic frozen on her face as she shot
     upright on the bed. Mulder had to restrain himself from
     taking her in his arms and soothing her panic, knowing that
     would probably be the worst thing he could do then.

"Scully? It's okay, I'm here. - Are you alright?"

     He held one hand forward towards her for her to take if she
     wanted to touch him for reassurance, but she didn't take it.
     Was it just him, or had she shied away from him a little
     when he had spoken to her?

"Scully?" he repeated, "Are you alright?"

     After a pause which seemed eternal, she turned her face
     towards him, and even in the semi-darkness of the hotel
     room, he could see the tears shining in her eyes. He could
     see her lips working, wanting to say something, but not
     being able to form the words. Finally she choked out,

     "Oh, Mulder..." and the tears in her eyes overflowed and
     flooded down her cheeks. Even now, though, she didn't take
     his proffered hand.

"Bad dream?" he asked gently, holding her gaze with his.
She nodded dumbly for a moment, and then said,

     "It was happening all over again, - the rape, - and I was
     crying and struggling, and trying to get away, but I
     couldn't. Then I looked up and I saw the man leaning over
     me... - and it was *you*, Mulder."

     Mulder's lips parted slightly to say something, but the
     words failed him. Even in the dark room he could see that
     her face was deathly pale, and it wrenched at his heart.
     She continued,

     "I'm afraid, Mulder. - What does this mean? - I don't blame
     you for what happened, so why did I dream something so
     horrible?"

     Her voice was filled with a fear Mulder longed to be able to
     clean away, and he felt tears pricking at his own eyes as he
     realised that now he was giving Scully pain even in her
     dreams, and he still couldn't do anything to stop it. He
     hated feeling so helpless. - Why was it that at all the most
     important times in his life he had felt so completely
     helpless?

     "It's alright, Scully. - It was just a dream. It doesn't
     have to mean anything. - Your mind is just focused on two
     things that it wants to sort out, - the rape, and our
     relationship. - It's natural that you should mix the two in
     dreams, even though it seems strange when you're awake."

Scully said nothing, but Mulder could feel the air of
disbelief and pain coming from her.

     "Perhaps it's time we addressed this properly together
     anyway." he said, "We'll get it sorted out when we get
     back to Washington."

Scully remained silent, but lay back carefully again, and
rested her head on the pillows.

It was a long time before either of them slept.

End of part 3.

I'd greatly appreciate any comments or constructive criticism from fellow
X-Philes. Email me at <smythja@aston.ac.uk>.

Danielle Culverson.

I am forwarding this story for the author, Danielle Culverson
(smythja@aston.ac.uk).
She would appreciate receiving your comments.

Gerry

Danielle Culverson.

Part 4/4.

* * *

     A woman in her early thirties sat at a desk in a waiting
     room, busy at her word-processor. Her long blond hair was
     tied back in a French braid, and she wore just a hint of
     make up around her blue eyes.

     The room was well lit. A cheese-plant stood in one corner,
     it's large leaves extending to fill the bit of space that
     was otherwise left unused. Horizontal blinds at the window
     had been raised half-way to let the morning sunlight in.
     Innocuous wallpaper covered the walls, which were lined with
     plush beige leather chairs. A smoked glass coffee table
     stood in the middle of the room, covered with magazines.

     In a chair by the windows, a young man sat alone, staring
     out of the window down twelve floors to the ground. His
     dark hair was tousled and greasy, and he wore a woollen
     jumper which looked several sizes too large for him. His
     blue jeans were dirty, and ripped at the knees, and he
     clutched the remnants of a bus ticket in one hand.

     A few seats away from the young man, a middle-aged woman sat
     watching him with a concerned expression on her face. She
     sat very straight in her chair, a magazine in her lap which
     she hadn't opened beyond the first page. A suede handbag
     lay on the floor by her feet, matching the suede shoes she
     wore.

     A teenage girl sat near to the cheese plant, engrossed in a
     magazine. Her mousy-coloured hair just reached her
     shoulders, and hung loose around her face. She wore a long
     loose skirt, with a white shirt over it. A canvas bag sat
     on the chair next to her, with the anorak she had been
     wearing when she had arrived.

     The door opened, and a couple came in. They approached the
     receptionist together, but although they walked closely,
     they didn't touch each other at all. The man was
     dark-haired, and a good nine inches taller than the
     auburn-haired woman at his side. They both wore long
     overcoats and business suits, - the woman wearing a maroon
     jacket and skirt, the man in dark blue.

"Can I help you?" the receptionist looked up from her work.

     "Yes, - Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. - We've got an
     appointment with Dr. Manton at 11.30." Mulder spoke to the
     woman in a low voice. He glanced up at the clock on the
     wall above her head. - It was 11.21am.

"Yes, Mr Mulder. - If you'd like to both take a seat, I'll
call you when Dr. Manton is free."

     Mulder nodded, and he and his partner turned towards the
     seats. They headed for the largest patch of free space, and
     sat down in the middle of it. Scully smiled slightly,
     recognising the familiar, unconscious phenomenon, when
     no-one wanted to invade anyone else's private space. But her
     smile was only skin deep, and at her side Mulder was very
     aware of her nervousness.

     Mulder glanced around the room, and saw the plaque on one of
     the three doors which read "Dr. D. Manton.". He turned back
     to Scully, consciouss that she was not entirely happy with
     what they were doing.

     "Are you alright?" he asked softly. She looked up, met his
     eyes, and nodded carefully. After a moment's thought, she
     reached out towards him with her right hand, reaching for
     his left. He let her take his hand in hers, and their eyes
     communicated the feelings they couldn't express in words.

     Although Skinner had offered Scully the chance to talk to a
     counsellor of her choosing at the Bureau's expense, in the
     end she and Mulder were going to foot the bill for the
     session he had arranged with Dr. Daniel Manton. Having
     decided that their biggest problem was Scully's inability to
     move into their personal relationship, - her inability to
     touch or be touched, - they had determined that it was best
     if they went to see a counsellor as an anonymous couple, not
     as a pair of working partners from the FBI.

     Scully's fingers were cold and trembling in Mulder's hand,
     and he squeezed them gently, his eyes still fixed on her.
     She tried to smile in reassurance to him, but could only
     manage a slight twitch at the corner of her lips.

     "Mr Mulder, Ms Scully?" the receptionist called, "Dr.
     Manton is ready to see you now." she indicated the door
     Mulder had seen before. He nodded, and rose to his feet,
     feeling a sense of loss as Scully slid her hand out of his,
     no longer able to maintain the comforting contact. They
     crossed the room to the door, where Mulder gave a
     perfunctory knock, and went in.

     The room was decorated in much the same way as the waiting
     room. Horizontal blinds hung at the window, this time
     pulled all the way down, but slanted to let in the light. A
     thick beige carpet covered the floor. A dark leather couch,
     and three chairs stood in a small group around a goatskin
     rug.

     Dr. Manton sat at his desk a short distance from the chairs.
     He was in his late forties, and starting to grey a little at
     the temples. His fingers were interlaced, and resting on
     the desk in front of them. As the two agents came in, he
     smiled at them benevolently, and indicated the group of
     chairs.

"Good morning, Mr Mulder, Ms Scully. - Would you like to sit
down?"

     "Thank you." Mulder nodded. At his side, Scully just
     nodded, and moved with her partner to the chairs, where they
     sat down. Daniel Manton followed them over, a memo pad and
     expensive looking pen in his hands, and took the remaining
     chair.

     "So, how can I help you?" he asked, smiling from one to the
     other. Scully lowered her eyes from him, unable to speak
     for the moment. Mulder, however, understood her discomfort,
     and spoke for her.

     "Dana was raped about six months ago at a hotel we were
     staying at. - Since then she's not been able to enjoy any
     physical contact, and she can barely abide to be touched at
     all. She's also having nightmares..." Mulder trailed, not
     sure what else to say. He looked at Scully, who was still
     looking down at her fingers, which were tensely clasped
     together in her lap.

     "Do you mind if I call you Dana?" Manton asked, looking at
     Scully. She shook her head, and glanced up at him briefly.
     "Can you tell me what happened to you?" he asked gently.

     "Yes..." she trailed, but then took a deep breath and
     continued, "Mulder and I were staying in a hotel for the
     week with some friends, and on our last night, at about 2am,
     we were both awake, and talking together. - Our friends were
     in the room down the hall. Suddenly two men burst into our
     room. One of them grabbed hold of Mulder, and hit him over
     the head, knocking him half-unconsciouss. He dragged him off
     the bed and tied him to the radiator. The other man grabbed
     me, and... he pulled me down the bed until I was lying flat
     on my back, and held my wrists above my head while he pulled
     my panties off..." Scully turned her head to the side, and
     closed her eyes for a moment as the memories suddenly cam
     alive in her head, assaulting her again with the pain they
     carried. She took a deep breath, "I could hear Mulder
     screaming my name as the man raped me. The other man was
     just standing there, watching. Then the door of the room
     flew open again, and our friends rushed in. - They pulled
     the man off me, and dragged him and the other man out of the
     room..."

     Scully shook her head slowly at the memories, wishing she
     could clear the pain from her head. Mulder looked at her in
     sympathy and understanding, and held one hand out towards
     her, offering comfort. Scully took it and squeezed it
     briefly, before letting it drop again. Manton watched this
     with interest.

"What happened to the men?" he asked, "Were they caught?"

     "Yes." Mulder nodded, "And prosecuted. - Apparently we
     weren't the first people this had happened to." Mulder
     neglected to mention that the other couples who had been
     attacked had later been killed by their assailants.

"Dana, how do you feel about what happened now?" Manton
asked.

     "Angry." Scully replied, after a moment's thought, "Angry
     that his actions have messed my life up so much. And...
     dirty. - I feel filthy inside because of what he did, and
     that Mulder saw it..."

"Do you blame Mulder at all for not being able to stop what
happened?"

Scully shook her head, "No... it wasn't his fault. - He did
everything he could."

"But you don't like him touching you since the rape?"

     "No... yes... I... - I don't know. - I want him to touch me.
     I want him to hold me and make me feel better about myself,
     but every time he does I tense up. - I've tried to stop it,
     but I can't. And I can't stand the pain in his eyes when I
     can't accept his touches."

     Manton nodded slowly. "It's quite natural for you to find
     it difficult to make physical, and especially personal
     contact, after something like this. It's an emotionally
     traumatic event, and is bound to take some time to get over.
     - I gather you haven't spoken to anyone about this before?"

"Not really." Scully admitted.

"And you're having nightmares?"

     "Yes, - a lot since it happened, mostly about the rape, -
     but recently I've started dreaming that Mulder is the man
     who rapes me." Scully looked up at Manton, and he saw the
     haunted pain in her eyes, "I don't know why, and it scares
     me."

     Manton nodded, "Yes, I can understand that. - But you have
     to remember that what you dream isn't supposed to make
     sense. It's just the mind's way of processing it's
     information. Anything which is on your mind a lot is likely
     to show up in your dreams in all sorts of combinations.
     Although I'm sure it's unpleasant, I think it's probably
     actually good that you're having these dreams, as at least
     your subconsciouss is dealing with what happened to you. -
     And as it is your subconsciouss which is causing your fear
     of being touched, when it deals with one problem, the other
     will follow automatically."

Scully nodded uncertainly, and looked down at her hands
again.

     "Don't assume that your fear of being touched will last
     forever, or you'll create a block in your subconsciouss,
     which will make it even harder to get over it. With time,
     and support, you'll be alright."

     Manton glanced at his watch, and saw that it was approaching
     midday, "I'm afraid I have another patient now, - and I
     think this has been enough for both of you for one day. - I
     would suggest that you make another appointment with Jean
     outside for next week. - An hour, perhaps?"

     Mulder looked at Scully, who felt his eyes on her, and
     looked up. He raised an eyebrow in question, and she nodded
     shortly. Mulder turned back to Manton, and nodded.

"Okay, we'll see you next week."

     Mulder got to his feet, and Scully rose with him. They
     walked to the door together, and Mulder held it open for his
     partner to go through.

* * *

     Special Agent Dana Scully sat alone in the basement office
     of the J. Edgar Hoover building. It was quite early, and
     she had come into the office before Mulder in order to get
     some work done that had built up during their previous case.

     Scully's thin black overcoat hung from the coat-stand by the
     door. At the foot of the coat-stand was a metal waste paper
     bin with a basketball hoop attached to it. The bin was
     overflowing with paper.

     The office, as usual, was in a state of disarray. Scully's
     desk, and the desk the computer stood on were the neatest
     parts of it, - and even these were in a jumble this morning.
     Everywhere there were papers waiting to be completed, filed,
     or sent back to their relevant departments upstairs. Old
     memos and used polystyrene coffee cups littered the cramped
     office. The smell of strong coffee, air freshener, and
     ozone permeated everything. Around Mulder's unoccupied
     desk, sunflower seed shells were scattered, and an empty
     polythene bag lay on top of his "In" tray where he had left
     it.

     The room was already stuffy in the early morning, the air
     conditioning still not having been fixed. Scully made a
     mental note to report the fact again, and continued with the
     work she was doing.

     She leaned over an autopsy report from a case which was
     being handled by the Violent Crimes Unit, and scrutinised it
     carefully. Finally sitting back, she wrote a few lines at
     the bottom, scrawled her signature, and thrust the paper
     into her "Out" tray. She sighed heavily, and leaned back in
     her imitation leather swivel chair, pinching the bridge of
     her nose where a headache was forming. Then she reached
     across her desk to her "In" tray, and pulled out a new
     document.

     Opening the file, Scully saw it was the case-file from the
     case she and Mulder had investigated in Kernham. There were
     still a few loose ends which needed tidying up before it was
     sent upstairs to Skinner for approval. Leaning forward in
     her chair again, she sifted through the graphic photographs,
     detailed autopsy reports, and fact-files, and pulled out the
     statement which had been given by the murderer's last
     victim.

     Carianne Georges had been attacked and raped by the man who
     had been committing the murders, but Mulder and Scully had
     found her before he killed her. Thus they had captured the
     killer and got a statement to prove their case.

     Scully read through the statement carefully. Holding it in
     one hand, she leaned back again in her chair, and crossed
     her left arm across her chest as she read. The statement
     gave a detailed account of what had happened leading up to
     the agents' arrival on the scene. Scully swallowed hard as
     she read Carianne's description of what had happened to her,
     and felt her heart constrict in her chest but she couldn't
     put the paper down. Her eyes remained fixed on the last few
     lines at the bottom of the page until the door to the office
     opened, and Mulder came in.

     Scully looked up from the statement, and met her partner's
     eyes. As she lowered the paper to her desk with her right
     hand, Mulder saw the expression in her eyes, and the smile
     of greeting which had been on his face slipped away. He
     moved quickly to her side, and knelt down at the side of her
     chair, looking closely into her eyes.

     "What's wrong, Scully?", he asked in a low voice. She
     opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again and
     swallowed hard before replying,

"I was just reading over Carianne Georges' statement..."

Mulder frowned in concern when he saw tears forming in his
partner's eyes. She continued after a short pause,

     "It brought it all back..." Scully swallowed again,
     fighting the tears which were pricking at her eyes, but
     suddenly her emotional barriers broke down, and the tears
     overflowed down her cheeks. With a hoarse cry, "Oh,
     Mulder..." she turned towards him, and buried her face in
     his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his back, and
     crushing him close to her.

     Mulder didn't know how to respond for a moment, but then, as
     Scully's tears soaked through the thin material of his
     shirt, he understood what was happening, and he allowed his
     arms to embrace her too, and he held her close to him as her
     pain overcame her. Rocking her softly back and forth to
     soothe her, his left hand rose to caress her hair, and he
     realised with relief that at last the worst was over.

The End.

I'd greatly appreciate any comments or constructive criticism from fellow
X-Philes. Email me at <smythja@aston.ac.uk>.

Danielle Culverson.