EMXC 1st Year fanfic- October 1, 1994 thru October 1, 1995 Archived: 10/01/95 ============================================================== The Day After by: Annie Reed FancyKatz@aol.com *************************************************************************** This is a sequel to "The Doomed" and "Just Friends." Thanks to Emily for suggesting the title! Romance alert for those of you who don't like that type of thing. This one's probably an R, kiddies. The characters are the creation and property of Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions, and the Fox Broadcasting Company, and no copyright infringement is intended. Enjoy! *************************************************************************** Damn, she was late. Dana Scully hated being late. Even if there was a good reason, she still hated it. What a way to start Monday morning. Damn, damn, *damn*! Dana glared at the car in front of her, mentally willing it to move a little faster, although to be fair, the driver ahead of her was probably cursing a blue streak at the traffic in front of him. Monday morning rush hour in Washington, D.C., was not a pretty sight. It's your own fault, Dana Katherine, her annoying mental voice piped up. Yes, it was, she admitted. It had been her decision to stay with Mulder last night, and what happened this morning had certainly been a mutual decision. And she wouldn't have traded any of it for the world, but that didn't change the fact that she was still going to be late for work. She just hoped Skinner hadn't decided to summon them to a meeting bright and early or anything like that. Just let me get to work in one piece and get my bearings, she prayed. The traffic slowed even further, now barely moving at a crawl. Dana blew out a frustrated breath and leaned back in her seat. Settle down, she told herself. You'll get there, sooner or later, and all that this annoyance is going to get you is an early morning headache, so just relax. Relax? How the hell can I relax? she argued with herself. Her stomach was already tied in nervous knots at the thought of seeing Mulder again, and other -- lower -- parts of her anatomy were reminding her of what had happened the last time she'd seen him, just a little over an hour ago. The memory was still fresh in her mind -- waking up beside him long before the sun was even up, feeling more content and safe and secure than she'd felt in a long time. They'd set the alarm to wake them up early and had put the extra time to good use, making slow, tender love in the pre-dawn darkness. Not wanting to be apart from him any longer than he had to, Dana had decided to shower at his apartment so that all she would have to do was go home, change clothes, fix her hair and makeup and she'd be out the door to work. Only Mulder had decided to join her in the shower, turning her usual 5 minute routine into a half hour of ecstasy, and then they'd only stopped because the hot water ran out. Dana had no doubt that parts of her body were cleaner than they'd been in years, and the thought made her grin. And squirm, just a little. All this attention after years of neglect had made certain portions of her anatomy a tad sore. To tell the truth, Dana was a little surprised at herself. She'd never been like this with anyone, ever. But something about Mulder just brought that out in her. He was, beyond a doubt, the most loving and giving man she'd ever been with, and with him she felt perfectly comfortable to be as sensual as she desired. Of course, her sensuality was helped along by his own physical endowments, which were considerable, she thought wickedly. But it was more than that. Mulder seemed as surprised as she was to have found love with someone who'd been practically under his nose all this time. She felt special, loved and protected while she was in his arms. She only hoped that she had made him feel as loved as she did. And it was love -- true, deep, passionate love. And Dana had discovered something else about herself this morning, something that surprised her almost as much as her heightened sensuality. Being separated from him, even for this short a period of time, was painful -- physically painful. In the space of one weekend she'd become used to being with him on a new level, and it had been almost like a homecoming that was long overdue. A homecoming that might never happen again if this damn traffic didn't move soon. So much for relaxing, Dana, she chided herself, noticing how white her knuckles were where her hands gripped the wheel. Then the car in front of her started to move, slowly at first and then gaining speed until it was moving at an almost normal pace. *Finally*, Dana sighed. Once again headed toward the office, Dana wondered what Mulder was doing. Fox Mulder was pacing, walking back and forth between his desk and Dana's as fast as his long legs and the confined space would allow. She was late. She was *never* late. He had no idea how much time she normally took getting ready in the morning, but he was sure it wasn't this long. He glared at the phone on his desk, mentally willing it to ring but simultaneously dreading that it would, bringing bad news with it. He started to reach for it to dial Dana's cellular number, but stopped himself before his hand actually touched the phone. This is ridiculous, he told himself. She's fine, she's just running late, and you know that. After all, you're the one that made her late. 'I should never have gotten in the shower with her,' he thought. 'We were fine up until then. I should have just let her alone.' But truthfully there was no way he *could* have left her alone. He'd just gone in the bathroom to brush his teeth. That was all. But once he'd glimpsed her through the shower curtains, all conscious thought left him as his body took over. In fact, looking back on it, it seemed like his body had taken over quite a lot this weekend. Mulder had been pleasantly surprised to discover that his stamina, for want of a better word, exceeded even his expectations. It seemed that sleep wasn't the only thing he'd been catching up on in the last two days. The phone rang, interrupting his thoughts, making his heart jump into his throat. "Mulder," he answered. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Skinner's voice on the other end, not some doctor or worse yet, a D.C. cop calling to inform him of a traffic accident. "Mulder, I want to see you and Scully in my office at 10:30," Skinner said. "I want to go over your report." "Yes, sir," Mulder replied, hanging up the phone and resuming his pacing. He hoped like hell Dana would be here by 10:30. If she wasn't, he didn't think he'd be composed enough to come up with a plausible excuse for her absence. Walter Skinner frowned at the receiver in his hand. Was that really Mulder? Just a simple "yes, sir," and in a semi-respectful tone of voice, no less. He knew Mulder hated being called into his office to review paperwork, and that's part of the reason he did it. A good agent gave each part of the job his best, not just the investigative end but also the administrative end. Mulder needed to learn that. His reports were usually thorough, but the paperwork he'd received on the Pfaster case was unusually terse and to the point. He had a feeling Mulder had written the report, something he knew Scully usually handled, and he wanted to know why. While he understood that Scully might have some qualms about reliving what had to have been a traumatic experience for her, Skinner was a firm believer in facing your demons and getting on with your life. Well, don't knock it, Walter, he thought as he put down the receiver. He'd take a "yes, sir" over Mulder's usual comments any day. "Where have you been?" Mulder demanded as soon as Dana walked in the door. "Good morning to you, too," Dana replied as she hung up her coat and put her briefcase on her desk. "Want some coffee?" she asked as she moved over to the coffee maker that fought for room on the corner table with Mulder's stacks of research documents. Stick to the normal routine, Dana. Don't look at him too long or you'll do something stupid, like jump his bones. "I don't think I need it," Mulder said, walking over to stand next to her. "So where were you?" he inquired a little more gently. "Stuck in traffic," she replied, trying hard to ignore the fact that he was within easy reaching distance. She glanced into his eyes and saw real concern. "You were worried about me, weren't you?" she said with wonder. What would have been an annoying trait a couple of weeks ago now just made her heart melt. "Mulder, you can't go around worrying about me every time I'm out of sight. You'll make yourself nuts." Mulder bent down close to her, close enough that his breath tickled her neck, but not so close that they were actually touching. "I'm already nuts," he whispered in her ear. "About you." Dana closed her eyes, knowing that if she looked into his right now she wouldn't have given two hoots whether the whole damn Bureau saw them together. When she opened them again, Mulder was seated at his desk. "I'll get you for that," she threatened with a glint in her eye. She took her coffee and returned to her own desk, flipping on the computer. "Promises, promises," Mulder muttered, grinning at her. Purposefully turning her back on him , Dana logged on to her computer, entered the proper passwords, and started her calendaring program. Peering at the day's schedule, she noticed that they had no appointments, at least as far as she knew. Thank god she hadn't blown an appointment with Skinner. "So what do we have going today?" she asked Mulder. "Skinner called this morning." Dana felt the blood drain from her face. What did Skinner want, and more importantly, did he know she hadn't been here? Mulder must have noticed her reaction. "Relax," he said. "He didn't even ask for you. He just wants to go over a report with us at 10:30." Mulder pulled the Pfaster file from his stack, knowing that had to be what Skinner wanted to discuss. It was the last report they'd turned in. "Think we'll have our act together by then?" he asked. "I can be professional if you can," she challenged, turning around to face him with an 'anything you can do I can do better' look on her face. Mulder was struck once more by her beauty. Just look at those eyes, full of daring, the way her hair fell around her face, those lips... Mulder's mind suddenly gave him a vision of how she'd been yesterday -- and this morning -- naked and lying beneath him, her body writhing with pleasure. He squirmed down lower in his chair as certain portions of his body threatened to take control. Again. "Just let me carry the file," he muttered. Skinner was used to Mulder squirming around in his chair, bouncing his foot with nervous energy. But he wasn't used to the same behavior from Scully. Normally she was the picture of calm professionalism, sitting quietly until she was called upon to respond. Not today. Her face was flushed and she was fidgeting with her hands, and he couldn't count the number of times she'd changed positions in her chair. Mulder, on the other hand, seemed to be intently studying his shoes. "You feel alright, Agent Scully?" Skinner asked, genuinely concerned about her health. It wasn't every agent who could bounce back from a coma, after having been missing for months, and still do the type of work she did. Not to mention what she'd been through at the hands of Donnie Pfaster. Skinner had no intentions of letting Scully work if she was ill. For one thing, he didn't want to have to deal with Mulder, much less Scully's mother, if she worked herself back into the hospital. "Yessir," Dana responded quickly. A little too quickly. "I'm fine." Skinner looked at her for a moment, trying to gauge whether she was hiding something. If she was, he couldn't tell what. "Then I'd appreciate it if you'd sit still. It's distracting." "Sorry," Dana muttered, willing herself to be still. And to quit thinking about Mulder, damn it. How the hell could he be so calm and collected, anyway? He'd barely moved since they'd been in Skinner's office. How did he do it? Damn, Skinner was talking and she'd missed the first part of what he said. She felt like a little schoolgirl caught daydreaming in class by one of the nuns. "Now about this autopsy report on the hooker," Skinner was saying as he leafed through the file. "It's a little shorter than your normal autopsy reports, Agent Scully. Any particular reason for that?" "No, sir," Dana replied, trying to get her mind back on track. "The cause of death was obvious, as were the contributing factors. The trophies taken from the body fit in with suspect's general pattern. There were no unusual indications in the routine test reports that indicated additional workups needed to be done." Dana paused. "Sir, may I ask if you feel the report is deficient in any way?" "No," Skinner admitted. "It's the type of report I would expect from any other pathologist, but it's not the kind I'm used to getting from you." "That's because I usually disagree with Agent Scully," Mulder interrupted, "and she takes great pains in trying to prove how wrong I am." "I see," Skinner said. Mulder usually didn't jump to Scully's defense. In fact, it was usually the other way around. And instead of glaring at Mulder for trying to protect her when she didn't need it, like Skinner would have expected, Scully merely looked down at her shoes and kept quiet. What was it with the shoes, anyway? Deciding to let it slide for a moment, he turned to the concluding report, presumably written by Mulder. "Your description of what happened when you arrived at Pfaster's house is less than complete, Agent Mulder," Skinner said. "In what way, sir?" Mulder asked, genuinely puzzled. Sure, he hadn't put down everything in excruciating detail, but he knew he'd described what had happened when he'd arrived with the local police force. It certainly was enough for the local authorities to make the kidnaping charges stick. There it was, that respectful "sir" again. And instead of jumping to his defense, Scully was squirming in her seat -- again. Enough was enough. "Alright," he growled. "Will one of you kindly tell me what the hell is going on here?" he demanded. "Sir?" they responded, almost in unison. "Is there something about this case you're not telling me?" Skinner demanded. "Because if there is, and I find out about it, it's both your heads." Dana found herself inordinately relieved that it was only the case Skinner was concerned about. Although she'd lied to Skinner's face in the past, she wasn't sure she could pull it off if he'd asked about what she was sure he was going to ask. Not today, not the first day after... well, after what she was bound and determined *not* to tell him. She decided that maybe she should open up a bit on what had bothered her about the case, and maybe that would satisfy Skinner and he'd leave them alone. Please, God, at least for today. "Sir," she began tentatively, "something did happen that's not in the report, something that happened to me." "Scully," Mulder interrupted. "You don't have to do this." Dana risked a brief glance at Mulder. She hoped that she was only one who could see the love mixed in with the concern on his face. "It's ok, Mulder," she said softly. "It should have been in the report anyway, and he's got a right to know." She took a deep breath and turned to face Skinner. "Sir, this case got under my skin, much more than it should have. I kept seeing myself in the faces of those dead women, to the point where I was barely able to bring myself to perform the autopsy," she admitted. "When I returned to Washington for the latent fingerprint work, I saw a department psychiatrist and she helped me sort through my feelings about the case." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mulder glance at her in surprise. He didn't know she'd been to the department shrink. "I returned to the field thinking that I had things under control, but I didn't. When Agent Mulder found me, I behaved very... unprofessionally," she sighed. "It's not something I'm proud of, sir, and Agent Mulder agreed not to mention it in his report." Skinner sat silent for a moment. He knew how hard Scully worked. Hell, he knew how hard every female agent in the Bureau worked just to avoid the appearance of weakness. For her to have acted unprofessionally in the field was almost unthinkable, and he knew how much it cost her to admit that fact. "Did your behavior compromise this investigation, Agent Scully?" Skinner asked. "No, sir," she responded. Skinner turned his gaze on Mulder, questioning. "No, sir," Mulder echoed. Time for a command decision, Walter. Skinner closed the file. "The local authorities have more than enough to prosecute Pfaster. You both did a good job on a difficult case. As far as I'm concerned, this matter is closed." He put the Pfaster file in his out-box and picked up another case file. "Don't you two have some work to do?" he asked. They didn't have to be told twice. With almost palpable relief, they hurried out of Skinner's office, and somehow managed to keep their professional masks intact until they were inside the elevator. Finding themselves alone, they both sagged against the elevator walls in relief. "Guess we made it through the first trial by fire," Dana commented with a deep sigh. "Yeah," Mulder agreed. "I thought for sure Skinner was on to us there for a minute. I've never seen you fidget like that before. It must have been driving Skinner batty." "Old habits," Dana replied. "Nuns can be brutal when it comes to laying on the guilt. Whenever they thought you did something wrong, they'd send you to Mother Superior's office. She used to make me sit in a chair in front of her desk and she'd just stare at me. First I'd start to twiddle my thumbs, then I'd start to squirm in my chair, and finally, when I couldn't take it anymore, I'd confess. To virtually anything, whether I'd done it or not." Dana grinned at the memory. "Let me tell you, the reputation Jewish mothers have for guilting you out is nothing compared to what Mother Superior could do." "So, tell me. Did you do it this time?" Mulder asked gently. Dana knew what he was referring to her visit to the company shrink and she nodded. "I didn't tell anyone, Mulder," she said softly. "I didn't want to admit that I couldn't handle it alone. I've always been able to handle things by myself, no matter what life threw at me. But this time...." She trailed off, remembering the monster named Donnie Pfaster who had disguised himself as the gentle, soft-spoken guy next door. She looked so haunted and vulnerable that Mulder wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, but they were nearly at their floor and the doors would open at any minute, so he restrained himself. "You don't have to handle it alone, not anymore," he murmured. "I know," she said. "It might take me a little while to get used to the idea of being able to share that much of myself with you, though. Just be patient with me, okay?" "Deal," Mulder replied as the elevator doors swished open. The rest of the day went by fairly uneventfully. Uneventful, that is, if you overlooked the fact that Mulder spent most of the time seated at his desk, trying his damnedest to concentrate on the paperwork in front of him and not on the beautiful woman who shared his work and now his life. With nothing urgent pending, they had decided to review all the old, unsolved cases in their filing cabinet, making sure that all the t's were crossed and the i's were dotted. Better safe than sorry, they decided. They had eaten lunch at their desks, both agreeing that going out to lunch together was a bad idea. Neither one wanted to risk being seen by anyone acting less than professional, and Mulder, for one, didn't trust himself to remain purely professional if they left the office together at lunch. For some reason the word 'nooner' came to mind, but he managed to shove the mental image out of his head. With difficulty. The remains of Mulder's corned beef on rye from the deli down the block sat drying on its waxed paper under what had to be the umpteenth file he'd stared at that day. The words were all beginning to blur and run together. He glanced over at Dana, busy typing something into the computer. She'd been the picture of professionalism since lunch, going from one file to the next without even a pause between cases. Her back was to him, and he allowed himself the pleasure of openly staring at her perfect form, studying each portion of her anatomy in turn, from her straight back, to her tiny waist, to her hips that curved down to.... "Mulder!" Dana said loudly, her head turned toward him. "Umm?" he answered. "You were a million miles away just now," she said. As his eyes slid back up to her face, Dana suddenly understood what had preoccupied him just a moment ago, and a slow blush colored her cheeks. "Uh," she stammered, "my computer just told me it's time to go home." She felt warm all of a sudden and reached for the glass of water on her desk. Mulder checked his watch. It was time to leave. For normal working people, anyway. He and Dana rarely kept regular hours, but today was as good a day as any to start. "Then I say we've had enough fun for one day," he said, standing up. Dana nearly choked on her water as Mulder stood up. If she hadn't known what he was thinking about before, she knew now. "Mulder? I think you better carry a few of those files with you when we leave," she suggested timidly. "Huh?" he asked, then realized where *she* was staring. "Shit!" Dana watched in amazement as Mulder's face began to color as he stood staring down at his offending body part. She didn't think she'd ever seen him blush. "I'm sorry, Dana. Nothing like this has happened to me since high school," he said miserably. "Don't worry, I'll take it as a compliment," she giggled. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" She nodded, then raised one eyebrow at him. "But I'll enjoy it more later," she purred softly. "That's *not* helping!" Dana got up from her own desk, picking up several thick files. "Here," she said, handing them to Mulder. "If anyone asks, I came over to your place to finish up a couple of these." She took one more peek in the general direction of his fly, then sighed deeply. "Think Skinner," she whispered in his ear. "Sobering thought," Mulder replied as he tried to position the files properly without looking like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. "Women have it easy," he complained under his breath as he followed her out the door. "I heard that," she said over her shoulder. "Remind me sometime to explain to you the 'other' reason women buy padded bras." Mulder chewed that thought over in his brain. He was rewarded with a recent memory of Dana without hers. "Thanks a lot," he murmured in her ear as the elevator doors closed behind them. "Told you I'd get even with you," she whispered back. Both of them had their cars at work, so they agreed it would be best to take their own cars to Mulder's apartment. Mulder walked Dana over to her car, which she'd been forced to park in no man's land at the other end of the garage. The early bird gets the best space, and this morning Dana had not even been close to being the early bird. As she opened her door, Mulder handed her the files with a grin. "Got to keep up the cover," he said as he headed back toward his own car. The drive over to his apartment was unbearably long. Dana's stomach tied itself in nervous knots of anticipation and she found herself humming along with every song on the car radio. Once at his apartment building, she parked a block away. It was silly, but she didn't want her car spotted parked outside his apartment. At least it was a white Honda, which was practically the yuppie car of choice in D.C. Someone would have to check the license plates to know that it was hers. She hadn't even knocked the second time when Mulder opened the door and she went inside. Dana barely made it all the way into Mulder's apartment when he snatched the files from her hands and dropped them in the general vicinity of the small hallway table, shutting the door behind them. The next thing she knew he had backed her up against the closed door, his mouth hungrily seeking hers, his body, hard and insistent, pressing up against her. After being pent up all day, her own desires broke free at his touch, and she returned his kiss with equal passion, her hands reaching under his coat and pulling up on his shirt, greedily seeking the warm familiarity of his body. Mulder trembled as her hands found his bare skin. Oh, god. He didn't think he'd ever wanted anyone so much in his entire life. His own hands sought the softness of her skin and his lips moved from her mouth to her neck. "Oh, Mulder," she moaned into his ear. "That was the longest day of my life. I didn't think we were going to make it." Her hands tugged insistently on his belt buckle as his moved around her back to work on her bra. Both came free about the same time. "Dana, I had no idea it was going to be this hard," he said, moving her away from the door just long enough to slip off her jacket and blouse and unzip her skirt. Her bra seemed to fall away on its own, sliding down her arms. "Mmmmm," Dana said, unzipping his trousers. "Just how hard is it going to get?" she asked, deliberately misinterpreting his remark as her hands ducked below the waistband of his boxers. Mulder closed his eyes and drew a quick intake of breath as she touched him, then opened his eyes to look down into her mirthful ones. "Guess I'll just have to show you, won't I?" he replied, picking her up in one graceful movement. "Thought you'd never ask," she murmured as she tilted her head into his kiss. Happy and content. Those were two words Fox Mulder never thought would apply to him, but that's what he was at this moment -- happy and content. Dana lay dozing in his arms, covered lightly by the bed sheet. The remainder of his bedding was in a tangled heap on the floor. He wondered if the couch was getting lonely. 'Better it than me.' He'd never thought before that some woman might actually want to share his life, and he was almost afraid to contemplate that possibility now. He'd had a few relationships here and there, and many more one night stands than he wanted to recall, although fewer in recent years given the deadly possibilities that came with casual sex with a stranger. But never in his entire life had a woman touched his soul like Dana Scully. Now he couldn't imagine his private life without her in it. He only hoped that the difficulties they'd faced today wouldn't scare her away. Dana stirred next to him, stretching her legs against his. "What time is it?" she asked sleepily, opening groggy eyes to look at him. Light filtered into the bedroom from the hallway, making her eyes glitter and picking out the highlights in her hair. "Late, beautiful," he replied, kissing her softly. "Go back to sleep." "Not yet," she said, pulling back to look at him. "There's something we need to talk about first." Mulder frowned. Years of ingrained pessimism threatened to take over, and a little voice in his head tried to tell him that this had all be too good to be true. 'Shut up,' he commanded the nasty little voice. "What do you want to talk about?" he asked Dana, hoping that his insecurities didn't show through in his voice. Dana must have picked up on his anxiety, because she hugged him tightly and then kissed him tenderly, her tongue gently caressing his lips. "Relax, it's nothing bad," she promised. "I just have an idea of how we can make things easier on ourselves at work." Mulder relaxed. "I'm open to suggestions," he said. Goodness knows he couldn't lug files home every night. People would begin to get suspicious. Dana rolled over on her side and propped her head up on the pillow so that she could look at him without getting a stiff neck. Mulder turned toward her and wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. "I think part of the problem -- not that I think that being sexually aroused by you is a problem, you understand," she added hastily, "is that we don't know what to expect from each other at work. We both agreed to be professional, but we didn't decide how to do that." Mulder considered what she said, and it made sense to him. "I'm with you so far," he said. "Ok," she said, taking a deep breath, knowing the reaction she was probably going to get. "I think we need to make rules for ourselves about how we'll act when we're at work so we'll both know what to expect." "Rules!" Mulder made a face. He hated rules. "Or guidelines or whatever you want to call them, it's something we need to do so we can keep our professional lives and our personal lives separate. *I* need them, Mulder," Dana said. "You have no idea how hard it was for me to keep my hands off you today because I didn't know if you were going to keep your hands -- or any other part of your body -- off *me*. I need to separate the Dana Scully who's a professional, hard-working agent for the FBI from the Dana Scully who is Fox Mulder's lover." "Deliberate multiple personality syndrome, eh Dana?" Mulder teased. The way she was looking at him was melting his heart, and the fact that she'd called herself his lover was warming other parts of him. He couldn't deny her anything. "Ok, ok," he capitulated. "Rules it is, Ms. Scully. Just let's not make too many or I might have a hard time remembering them all." She poked him in the ribs. "Lose your photographic memory somewhere, Mulder?" she asked. "I thought you remembered everything." "I do," he replied, kissing her softly on the lips, and then trailing kisses down her neck. "Every single detail." Mulder pulled her in closer, and Dana felt him twitch against her leg. "Thought you were tired," she said as she pulled back to look into his eyes. "Guess not," he replied as his mouth closed on hers hungrily. His heart soared as she returned his kiss passionately. Happy and content. end.