PhaHks Series
by GenieVB





Scully paused in her typing and looked at her phone, 
willing it to ring. It had consistently refused her. 

She resumed.


//...Every memory I have with him now is cherished 
beyond belief and filed away in my memory in 
such *detail*. I recall his every word, every 
expression, every movement now as if a film 
were running in my head.
I hold his scent and taste his voice. I am acutely 
aware of him to the tiniest degree.
I haven't seen him for days.
I've never been able to visualize things in this 
way until now. 
But I guess it's because now I so badly need to. 
Just in case. 

I have such a need to see him. I want to see him 
even for a few minutes every day.
But I can't...// 

The phone rang. 

Scully stopped typing. Stopped breathing and reached 
out to pick it up, both praying it was him and afraid that 
it was. 

Taking a deep breath, she picked up the receiver.



Fox Mulder's Apartment, Same Time: 

He reached for the phone again. So afraid his heart
was going to stop in his chest if a male voice answered.
Pressed the pre-programmed number. 

Seems he was always calling her when he was in the
lowest places. 

Three rings. 

"Scully." She said. 

She sounded...okay. 

"Scully." Say it all and don't let her speak or you'll
never find your way outside that door again. They'll
find you here in a month, curled up like human jerky. 

"Scully. Don't say anything. Okay, I just want you to
listen to me. Just listen." 

She said nothing. 

"I,...I'm sorry. I love you so much but, I'm scared
it would destroy you. I'm sorry I can't be what you need.
I'm sorry I've spent all these years chasing after this fucking 
"thing" that's going to ruin me. Well, it already has, but
I shouldn't have dragged you along. I've hurt you. I never
wanted to. But I can't live with a shitload of lies, I can't happily
accept what these people do and I know that part about me 
has fucked up my life. And yours too. I'm sorry about all of it.
About going away, about you losing everything you had and
nothing to show for it. I can't hurt you anymore. I hope you
can forgive me. They've closed the Allenby case, well I told
you that already. And I've been forbidden to look any further
into the God's Children case. I don't know what I'm going
to do now. I don't know if I'll stay with the Bureau..." 

He stopped. That part was easy. 

The rest he'd have to get passed the huge swelling in
his throat and the shriveled lump in his thorax. 

"I hope he gives you everything you deserve. I'll...I'll
miss you, I'll think about you everyday..." 

That's it. Couldn't say anymore. It had been a lame attempt
anyway, to find peace with any of it. 

"Bye, Scully." He replaced the receiver.



Dana Scully's Apartment, Same Time:



Scully heard. Listened, like he asked. 

And by the end of his quiet, narrative that begged her
forgiveness and wished her well without him forever,
she found herself unable to breath. 

She listened, the phone pressed painfully into her ear
until pressure reminded her to get some oxygen. But all 
she managed was one ragged gulp, mouth away from
the receiver so he wouldn't hear her fall apart. 

The rest of the conversation she spent with a hand clasped
over her mouth forcing the words she wanted to say back-
back-back-back... 

And tears draining from her. 

When he finished, she dropped the receiver to the floor
and watched it's downward flight. Conversation over as 
so much else was. It actually cracked when it hit. 

She hated them with a hatred she never thought possible. 

The way Mulder must hate them for taking away everything
he had starting when he twelve, the sweet time where he 
played after school games and understood nothing evil. 

The why's, the wherefore's... 

He'd been such a cute, thin, introspective kid. Nothing hinting 
at the handsome, amazing, fighting man he'd turned out to be. 

But _this_, this ending...it can't be! 

Destiny couldn't be this fucked. 

* 

The knocking was insistent and roused him from what 
proved to be restless and harmful dreams filled with blurs 
and shapeless faces all talking at once- saying things, 
shouting at him. Accusing hands grabbed him, yanked 
his hair. Stitches popped, blood ran. 

Teeth chattered and clicked like hail against a window; 
the devouring of him... 

The door rattled on its hinges. Whoever it was, they were 
putting their fist into it. Still, it took Mulder another full 
minute to come fully awake and get from his bed to the 
door. 

Fucking Meds. 

Not checking the keyhole, he swung it open to have Scully 
walk in without being asked. 

"Mulder - we need to talk." 

Door still open, "Scully? - Are you -what about?" He shut it. 

"About me. And you." 

Mulder followed her slowly into his living room like he was 
the wary guest and she the hurried Hostess. She seemed 
tired and anxious. 

"What's going on?" 

Scully looked, not directly at him, but slightly off to one side, 
addressing the coffee table. It eased her a little to lesson 
the contact when speaking half-truths, her half-truths. 

Mulder had not violated that commandment. 

But she had to salvage this. Them. Fix it, somehow. Keep
him safe but fix it. 

"You did nothing wrong, Mulder and you're beating yourself 
for it." 

"I let them take you." 

She swallowed and forged ahead, still shifting her eyes from 
Mulder to the coffee table to the wall. Voluntary blindness. 

"No you didn't. You couldn't have done anything." 

"Scully, I was there, I couldn't fire my weapon. If I had, 
you wouldn't have been-." Gently, "I did this to you." 

"No. You didn't." She sat on his bed. It was not like when 
he sat there, a thumping and sagging. With Scully, the 
perching of her slight build was as insubstantial as a cat. 

She left room for him. 

He sat obediently. 

"Mulder. I owe you an apology." 

He blinked. "What for?" 

"For not trusting you. For not supporting you in this. Even for 
not believing you at first, about Vancouver Island." 

"It's not the first time we've been at odds, Scully. It doesn't 
matter." 

"Yes, it does." She tucked one leg under her in a very feline 
manner and sat sideways, facing him. "Something happened 
to you in that subway station. And to me. At first I thought 
that somehow, you froze. That through shock or the stress of 
the situation, you were paralyzed and unable to act." 

Mulder's eyes never wavered. It always made telling him 
anything, especially potentially hurtful things, so much more 
difficult. That straight on stare of his, eyes expecting nothing 
but truth. 

"And... I thought that...your explanation was a way to ...explain-" 

Those eyes quickly got the point. "-Explain it away? Cover 
my ass. Cover my craziness?" 

Scully sighed and rested her forehead in one hand, rubbing 
it. "I didn't know what else to think." 

"That hurts." 

Scully felt a sinkhole give under her heart and it dropped out 
of reach. The pain that had come through in those three words. 

"Instead of thinking that I'd lie to protect myself after watching 
you get-" he bit off the rest and instead said: "But I understand, 
Scully." 

An up-to-now unspoken fear had been kept hidden, and she had 
just cracked it wide open. She knew they had to breath it in, 
endure the stink of it and then exhale it away forever.


"I thought you, if no one else, at least you would trust me far 
enough to know what I am incapable of." His voice grew very 
soft. The words lumped up in his throat, aching. "I've learned 
to count on you to believe me, at least believe that I'm telling 
you the truth, Scully. I can't tell you how it cuts when you don't." 

This was much harder than she'd imagined. It's because 
Mulder wasn't yelling. She knew Mulder's yelling, knew it very 
well. He'd yell, she'd yell back. They were like a couple of 
civilized gorillas beating their chests and tossing things about. 
"DAMN-IT-SCU-LEY!", "DAMN-IT-MUL-DER!" Thumpa-thumpa-thump! 

Most of the time things were resolved, sometimes not. But at 
least his yelling was simple and plain, leaving no question 
for her about how to proceed. But this quiet restraint and 
the aching eyes. It was worse. 

"Mulder, I was wrong about what happened down there. 
I'm sorry I was that far wrong. I did see movement, I did 
see something, I'm just not sure what." 

He winced. 

Now that the floor was hers, she stretched it. "Aren't you 
even going to ask me what changed my mind?" 

"I guess something did." 

"Listen to me, Mulder. Something's going on. I didn't think 
so before. But I do now." 

"That's-" Mulder leaned his face closer to her and she 
resisted pulling back. 

This was also a thing Mulder did. When he got mad, 
he mostly yelled, When he felt sorry, he did this. 
At least to her. 

She recalled one other time he'd used it. Coupled 
with a touch to her face, a lifting of her chin 
with terribly gentle fingers, she'd clung to him 
and sobbed like a terrified child. Which is just about 
how she felt at that moment, having just been saved 
in the nick of time from being shorn of her red locks 
and de-fingernailed. Mulder had held her until she'd 
calmed down, embarrassed. 

He could be such an obnoxious male at times. 

He could be such a perfect and welcomed gentleman. 

Like now. Like a fine tool. Mulder could go on 
the sweet offensive and get her defenses down or
perform a saintly deed, doing it naturally and 
without calculation. 

His voice was low and sympathetic but not patronizing. 
"I want to believe that's true, more than anything..but-."


She exposed the palm of a hand in appeal, "You were hurt , 
Mulder. Look at you. You'd suffered a head injury. You 
had a concussion and blood loss. The doctor who treated you 
said you came into emergency with blood all over your face. 
Look, what matters is that I've rectified my own report to 
include my convictions about the events of that night. Skinner
has not recommended any disciplinary action against you. 
There is going to be no Board of Inquiry into the death of 
Beyer or the violations of your probation." 

"Just tell me one thing." 

She was tired now. "What?" 

"Just tell me honestly if you're saying this only to protect 
me. I'm not talking about your doubts about me, just your 
own story. Are you altering your claims about what you saw 
and experienced so I won't be put under the microscope?" 

"Absolutely not. I don't know what happened to me that 
night, not for sure. Something happened to both of us, we 
were attacked by the UnSub. You were attacked by an 
accomplice, that's the only way to explain what happened." 

"But that's where we disagree." 

"What do you mean?" 

"You believe you were attacked by the Spree Killer or two 
of his group, that's what the press thinks, that's what the 
police and the F.B.I. think, but I think something more is 
going on here. Someone attacked me, but you were 
called to that subway for a reason other than just the 
God's Children case, or at least something connected to it,
something obscure, that we're not seeing yet." 

"Are you one hundred percent certain of that, Mulder?" 

"No. But I'm pretty damn sure. And I know one thing. 
Something stopped me from firing my gun. You understand? 
Something big and powerful stood near me, blocking my 
way and cracking my skull and I couldn't stop it." 

"Something or someone?" 

"I don't know for sure but it may be something we've seen 
before." 

Scully looked away and shook her head, sighing. 

"If it had been just me, Scully." he volunteered, "if it had 
been some inner weakness or fear because of my 
incarceration or my PTSD or these goddamn meds', if 
I'd froze up and that was the reason you got kidnapped-" 

Scully stared at him. 

"-I don't think I could have lived with it." 

Her touching of his hands broke something in him or 
maybe healed it. But he froze now, just looking at 
them. Unwilling, she wondered, to believe she was real. 
"And I couldn't-" He bit his last words off. 

Pleading, "Tell me!" 

"If something happened to you...again...I wouldn't want 
to live." 

//"You made me a whole person."// 

She came back to that so often it had become a mantra 
for when she doubted his feelings or her own. Before 
she had stepped into his basement office and into his 
life - what had he considered himself to be? 

"Mulder..." The inflection was no different than if she'd 
said: "Mine.". He was hers. Her body tingled with it, her 
heart affirmed it, her mind pronounced it. He was hers. 

"I almost lost you Scully." 

"No, no, you didn't. Really,..." 

"Did they hurt you? Do you remember what happened?" 

She had always told him the truth, even if it wasn't what 
he wanted to hear. Because to disappoint those eyes 
would be a hard proposition. She forced the last bit out. 

"No. I'm fine. Believe me, I'm okay." 

She lied. A little. Still. 

His life might depend on it. 

He suddenly gripped her in a hug so tight, she wondered 
if they would melt together from its heat. 

Then he was falling to the carpet, not letting go and she 
went with him on his journey of self-punishment and hate 
for his perceived wrongs and failure to save her from 
powers greater than himself. 

"Scully, Scully,..God. Oh, God.. I almost lost you. God..." 

She didn't let go either. Not a finger. "Shhhh, it's okay. 
I'm here. Everything's fine, everything's okay. He was 
buried in her or she in him. It birthed the same creation: 

Together. Whole. 

"They have to pay." 

Scully realized him the slightest bit. 

"No, no they don't, they didn't touch me." 

"I have to do something, I have to do something 
- anything - to erase this last week from your life. I 
c-can't stand that this happened to you. I can't stand 
this one. Not this one, not this time." 

"I don't want you to go after some kind of retribution 
for me. All I want is for you to come home. Come home 
to my apartment, Mulder. Please? If you want to, we 
can talk about it there." Stall, stall, stall... 

"I can't just let this go,...they took you." 

It was the worst thing they could have done to raise 
his sense of justice and they had failed to remember that 
little fact. 

"They hurt you." 

That was the fuel on his fire. 

Merely his suspicion that they had touched her in any 
way, even to take her in the first place, was enough to 
make him lose rational thought. 

In the past, even when he was calm and calculating 
his own move against them, his mind was an explosion of 
hatred, rebellion, retribution and disbelief. He was a good
man, the best kind of man. When the innocent suffered, he hurt. 
When what he cared about hurt, he suffered near utter 
destruction. 

Oh, Christ, please, no. 

"Yes you _can_. You will, Mulder. If you value me, you will 
leave it alone." 

*********

He got to his feet. "I can't just sit around, Scully! When 
they took Samantha, they set me on this course. I want an 
explanation. I want an apology. I wanted my sister back! 
And now I can't have her. Now the very least I will accept 
is answers. I need those answers, Scully. _An_ answer. 
One! Is that so much to ask? After all they've done? They 
owe me and they owe you!" 

"I don't want you to collect on my debts for me! I don't want you
thinking you can just decide for me what should be. You do not
have the right, Mulder." 

You. Do. Not. Have. The. Right. "Maybe I don't. After all these 
years, I thought I had you. Looks like I don't have even that." 

"What are you talking about?" 


"You're sleeping with Walter Skinner, aren't you?" 

"What? Is that what you think?" 

Mulder looked crushed. "I'm sorry, Scully, I just get that feeling." 

"Mulder, Skinner and I are friends. We...talk." He need never 
know anything else. I've punished myself enough for that. I 
won't punish him with it. 

He gestured back and forth between them, "Why don't _we_
"talk"?" 

Thrust. 

"We do. We talk about aliens and Black Oil, abductions and
shadowy conspiracies and invasion from above. But sometimes 
that's not what I want to talk about. Sometimes I'd like to hear
other things from you. How many years have we known each 
other and I don't even know your favorite color. What's your 
favorite color, Fox Mulder?" 

Parry. 

"What are you trying to say to me, Scully? If you have something 
to say, let's hear it, I'm all ears." 

"Someday, I may want to leave all this behind. In fact, I'm sure
of it. But I don't think you ever will." 

"Because they shouldn't get away with this." 

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe your shadowy conspirators
are just a group of old men in gray suits trying to invent history for
their own selfish agenda. And even if there are alien invaders 
readying to take over the planet, do you really believe that those 
old men, that anyone - that you - can stop it?" 

"I have to try. They have to answer for what they've done, 
Samantha, my father, Melissa, your cancer...my abduction, where 
does it end? When will it be too much to ignore?!" 

"Don't fight my battles for me, Mulder. I have my own faith and 
it's not in-" 

"Me?" 

"I was going to say it's not immutable. Even truth wavers. Mulder,
Years ago you said your faith was in the truth. But what if there is 
no one truth? What if there's just a life-long struggle with an 
uncertain end?" 

"I can't believe that. I also can't believe you're saying this. You 
sound like you want curl up and forget all of it." 

"And what if I did? Maybe you just might have to accept that you 
can't change the past or set the future or even alter it. You're only 
one man, Mulder. I don't want to lose you. You have all this "hope". 
But for me, for years, _you've_ been my hope. That's all." 

"If that's true, then why won't you help me?" 

"Because I want you to live and I'm afraid that if you leave here 
tonight, you won't be alive tomorrow. And if you go and my worst 
fear is realized, Mulder, I need to know that I did not lend a hand 
in supporting _that_ future because I'd have to live with that and 
I can't." 

"So, that's it? We're,...we're finally finished?" 

She stared in shock. "I didn't say that." 

"But that's what you meant, Scully. 

"You didn't hear me, did you?" 

"Yes I did." He turned on his heel, his eyes locating the exit to
an agony he could not grant another second of life. 

"Mulder, please..."


He didn't respond but stood, rubbed a hand across his dark, 
cropped hair, waiting. Deciding. 

Then Scully watched in shock and fear as he snatched up his 
car keys and gun. 

His answer was a shutting door. 

Scully let out the breath of fire she'd been holding in. Had he 
stayed it would have consumed her. Scorched her brain and 
burned her up. But it was no better breathing in the chills of 
the apartment air, made cold by the leaving of him. 

Nothing she said or did made a difference. He would seek 
until it killed him or until they tired of him and put him to 
death. 

Faith or no. Willingness or not, she could not allow that to 
happen. As always, his death would be hers. She gathered 
her coat, gun and keys and followed him. 

It would be difficult. Shooting him again would not be well 
received, Scully didn't think. 

But if she had to... 

***
**
Mulder, wearing dark clothes, eased himself through brush and 
trees until he could see the dim lights from the small windows. 
It had taken him the better part of the day driving to reach Augusta 
and another two hours of hiking to get this far. Night was falling 
again, and if he had to check each and every dwelling, it would 
take the better part of it. 

If he was wrong, it didn't matter. There were other places and 
he'd go to those places until he found him. 

And answers. 

This was the fourth property he'd visited and the second he'd
found to be occupied. Now the fatigue he'd been brushing off 
for a day and a half was making its presence known. His muscles 
were cramping and uncramping, and his water bottle, the only 
other item he'd brought with him other than his weapon and some
spare clips, was empty. Not eating for days had been stupid
but since his stomach had been unable to handle anything solid 
anyway, so what? 

This was a expansive two story log house with a car port addition.
Within a dark, expensive looking sedan was parked. He was still 
about one hundred, fifty yards away so he could see no movement 
from within.




"Fox Mulder is here." 

Weathered hands brought a spoonful of peas up to weathered lips 
on a haggard face. But it was illusion, that he appeared old and weak. 
Some had believed him worn-out, dated and it had been their folly. 
Fools who believed the structure unsound and so had failed to look 
inside. 

Stupid, dead fools. 

The haggard face looked keenly at his ageless, expressionless 
companion. "Where?" 

"Near the end of the foot path." 

"Make certain he gets no closer." 

With a nod, he rose and exited the cabin.



Scully drove and as she fought the wheel on the hilly, tree lined
roads, wondered what it was she would do when or if she located 
her partner. Just how was she going to stop him? Other than him
being physically bigger, stronger and faster, he probably wouldn't 
listen either. So she would have to - what? - shoot him? 

Been there. Done that. She didn't think he'd let it pass with a thank
you this time. 

The Lone GunMen had been most helpful. Of course they knew where
Mulder was going. They'd given him the address. Hinting that they just
may have sent him off to his certain death and they'd confessed like
wayward altar boys.



A tow-truck with its lights flashing and hauling a jeep, passed her 
going the other way. She had an idea. Fiddling with her cellular 
phone with one hand and driving with the other, she dialed. *Hope 
somebody is working late.* 

** 

She took in a great breath, held it for a few seconds, then let it out. 
It didn't calm her really, so she walked through the metal door, down
to the last cell on the right and sat in the chair the Deputy had provided 
for her. 

But the man in black lying on the one bunk didn't look at her. He 
continued to stare at the ceiling. She cleared her throat. 

"Mulder?" 

For a response, he set his lips and closed his eyes on her. 

Scully needed to be strong for what she was about to do and for 
what she had just done to him. She had to be strong, just that. As 
always. 

But she knew he didn't see any of that. He didn't want to see her. 
Scully could see, in every tense muscle in his body, his disbelief.
His fury. 

"Mulder, I had to do it." 

All she got in return was a short, ironic one-syllibilled laugh. An
angry bark. 

*Well, this is pretty much what you expected, isn't it?* But she
tried again. "Mulder, I know you don't understand - " 

He sat up like a jack-in-the-box, leaning forward with his elbows 
on his knees, looking at her like she was the one behind the bars 
and it was, not a jail, but a nut house. 

""Understand"?? You had me arrested!" 

"Yes, I had you arrested, but there's a reason." 

"Really? - no kidding?? Explain why at first, you don't want any 
part of this, then you come all the way up here to have me 
Arr.Es.Ted??" He leaped up and paced. "What is there for me 
to understand?" 

"I was afraid for you." 

"I never went there to kill anyone, if that's what you were thinking.
I was going to question him, Scully. QUESTION! If he didn't answer
me, _then_ I was going to kill him!" 

"If you were only going to question, why was it necessary to sneak 
around in the bushes like a cat burglar? Why not just walk right up
to the door?" Scully was babbling and she knew it. She wanted to 
avoid, avert or delay what she had come here to do. *Coward! Just
say what you have to say! Do what you MUST!* 

Mulder grabbed the sides of his head in mock confusion. He 
spread his arms. "In case you haven't been paying attention, 
Cancer-Man and I aren't exactly on the best of terms. I didn't 
know which place was his or even if any of them were. Now I 
guess I'll never know. I thought you knew me better than that. 
What the hell has gotten into you?" 

He was as angry at her as she'd ever seen him. But it didn't 
matter. It didn't matter if he punished her with silence for months 
or never confided in her again. As long as he believed what she 
was about to tell him. 

She covered her eyes with one hand and rested there for a 
moment. She looked up as she heard the creak of the cot springs. 
Mulder was resting up against the wall with his knees bent and 
feet on the bed but at least he was facing her. 

"Why did you stop me?" 

She heard the mistrust in the words and in his tone. The tone 
she had heard years ago when, convinced she was part of a 
hidden agenda, he'd questioned her motive behind her being 
partnered with him. 

"I told you. Because I was afraid-" 

He stood up again, furious now. "Do you believe that bullshit
that's coming out of your mouth?!" Walking away from her to 
the farthest wall of his cell. "I can't believe what I'm hearing, 
Scully. Why are you LYING to me?!" 

"You have to trust me. Please. We've been together for too 
long for-" 

"No, I don't HAVE to do anything. I don't have to believe you 
or trust you!" 

She swallowed, trying to rid her throat of the lump that was 
getting bigger and bigger. She walked to the bars and clutched
them, trying to still the shaking in her hands. 

"Mulder. I have something to tell y-" 

"Why should I listen? How many other lies have you told me-"


"MULDER! Will you stop playing the martyr? Listen to me. 
Just shut-up, sit down and listen! Please!" 

He leaned against the stained back wall and crossed his arms, 
defiantly not sitting down. 

She closed her eyes. *Make it a good lie, Scully. A big lie. A 
convincing lie.* 

"In my report, I said that I didn't know what happened to me 
during those four days? Well, I told you some things..." 

She recalled the white room and the voice speaking of Mulder's 
extermination as if he were no more needed or missed in the world
than a single housefly all ready dead. Her hands shook and she 
clasped them together to hide it. "I came here to tell you that 
something terrible happened during those four days. Something 
terrible happened to me. I can't, I'm not prepared to talk about
it yet." She couldn't look at him, but she couldn't disguise the
strain in her voice or the pain on her features. "But I know, it's 
going to affect me for the rest of my life. I know that someday
I'll have to f-figure it out." 

Her throat choked and she found herself trembling from it all. 
>From the horrible memories of that black room, from the voices. 
>From what the voices had said, those terrible things they had said. 
And she'd believed them. Absolutely. 

Without the tiniest doubt she knew how serious they had been. 
And were.


"You of all people should be able to understand that." She looked 
at Mulder briefly. At his waiting expression. *He's waiting for me
to prove my trustworthiness. What right do they have to manipulate 
people like this, to make me - MAKE ME - do this to him? What
right do they have to grant life and death? What right!?* 

Mulder uncrossed his arms and walked nearer. Soon he was right 
opposite her, only the bars between them. He'd momentarily
forgotten about himself and his own problems. 

"And I know, I mean, I don't think-" She could not stop the one or 
two tears that swelled in her eyes and dripped over. She could
not hide the fear for him from him. But how would he interpret it? 

She wanted to tell him everything and have her heart beat inside
her chest as it used to; without the way between them being lies 
and things hidden. The words came back clear as ice:



//"We are in expectations of things, Doctor Scully. We have been
aware of Fox Mulder's work against the evil for many years. And of
the children. Until now, Mulder has never overstepped what we 
have been shown is his destiny. He has been granted a measure 
of tolerance, because what he has done means something to us. 
But that is now being tried by him. He must cease to peer into 
this now. The children must not be violated." 

"Why do you have to speak in riddles? If it's so important that Mulder 
be kept off this case, why give it to me?" She didn't want to ask" Why 
not just kill him?" She did not want them postulating it as the easier 
solution. For him, to protect him, to keep him living on this earth, she
would do anything. Anything they asked of her. Anything at all. "And 
what if I can't stop him, what if he won't listen to me?" 

"No one is non-expendable, even among ourselves. No one is beyond 
sacrifice for the eventualities that are soon to arrive. I feel I must 
emphasize the certainty of Mulder's elimination should you fail. No
prophet is greater than the work."// 

Thinking them over and over gave her the force of will she needed.* 
Just lie. LIE LIKE HELL!* 

"Mulder, I don't think I can deal with it on my own." 

He frowned and shook his head the tiniest bit, puzzled. "But you 
won't be, Scully." Before her distress, his anger had dissipated. 
"I've always been there. I always will be if you need me, you know 
that, no matter who you're...in love with." 

She wanted to reach through the bars of his cell and strangle and 
kiss him all at once. Why couldn't he believe I love him? Why can't 
he just accept that it is true? Why can't that be enough? 

"No you won't Mulder. You'll be off running someone down, someone
without a name or face, someone who you think or hope or wish will
make everything right. Whether it's an alien or a ghost or something 
else because of memories from when you were twelve; or my 
abduction, or my cancer, or your abduction, putting your life on the 
line; chasing down shadows, trying to fix the whole, rotten
world..." 

"Is that what you think I'm trying to do?" 

"I- no. No. I know you have to keep looking for answers. I have no 
right to ask you not to. I've come to understand that it's what keeps 
you going." 

"I thought it's what you wanted, too. And you're an F.B.I. Agent, Scully, 
you know the risks of the job. We both do." 

"Yes, reasonable risk. Justified dangers." 

"It goes beyond that sometimes and you know it, Scully. Nothing's 
changed." Mulder put one hand on the bars. "I just don't get where 
you're coming from. What are you trying to say to me? Are you 
asking me to give this up for my own good? So I'll be safe and 
warm? I just can't do that..._nothing_...I'm not that person..." 

"I'm saying I need you here - alive. I'm saying that if I'm going to
survive what's happened to me, then I need YOU." 

"I'm responsible for what happened to you. Do you think I'd just 
pull out?" 

"No. You're not responsible. Goddman it, stop trying to shoulder 
the blame for everything that happens around you. I'm saying this 
out of motives purely personal and selfish. There is no accusation 
or blame or implied repayment." 

"You're asking me to give up the search because...y-you want me
to play it safe because you need me?" Mulder spoke the words 
carefully. 

Scully had always been so strong but his voice had always 
turned that strength to dust. Because of her love for him, it was 
happening again.


Yes, I still love you and I want them to die for making me risk 
what we have - for making me destroy it!! She wanted to scream. 

Mulder quietly probing for the truth, his hazel eyes keenly 
searching hers, as always. 

She could see he was asking himself: what happened to her 
during those four days? What was going on? Really? 

Scully was suddenly trembling from head to foot. *I should 
have known that I couldn't pull it off.* Lying was not in her 
nature. Lying to Mulder was simply impossible. They'd developed
a relationship that had also become a life and death friendship 
and now a love so strong it scared her. Nothing was ever half 
way with Mulder. 

The bond had its strength in trust: I trust you with my life and 
you can trust me with yours. Unspoken but unbreakable. 

She decided to speak as much truth as she possibly dared.


"Mulder, have I ever imposed upon you? Over these years 
and years have I asked anything unreasonable of you?
Begged for anything?" 

Mulder was listening intently now, whatever passions had 
brought him there, had suddenly become far less important 
than that Scully was falling apart in front of him. "No. Never. 
You never have." 

"Well, I am asking you now. I need you to give up on this. 
Leave "them" alone. Leave the Smoking Man be. For my 
benefit alone. For my sake." 

Scully's plea rocked him to his foundation. 

"Oh my god, Scully...?" He felt weak. What had happened
to her? "For my sake"?? Was her life in danger still? How? 
Why? But all he could say was, "I'm so sorry I couldn't stop
them." 

"It wasn't your fault, Mulder." 

He curled his large hands around her ridiculously tiny ones. 

"I don't know if I can do what you're asking. I don't know if I 
can make that promise." 

Scully had thought she'd succeeded. Now her face lost all 
color. She actually felt so weak, she couldn't stand anymore. 

She slowly crouched down until she could sit on the floor,
legs crossed. Both hands were clasping the bars that that 
unfeelingly separated them, held Mulder away from her. 

Too far away. 

She leaned her head against their coldness. 

Mulder, standing there strong and alive, was as good as dead. 
They would kill him. 

She didn't know what else to say or do. She'd failed and 
because of that, one day, he just wouldn't be there. One day
soon, they'd assured. 

Mulder crouched down also and reached through the bars 
to cradle her head in his hands. She cried that way for a 
minute. Then looked at his eyes. *He's looking at me like
I'm sick. He thinks I've gone insane. Maybe I have.* For a
crazy second, she felt like laughing. If the hopeless agony
hadn't overpowered it, she would have. But instead she 
grabbed his hands and squeezed them as tightly as she could. 

"Please." It was all she had left to say anyway. 

Mulder buried his face in her lemon-scented hair. He felt 
her trembling through his hands that would not let go. What
had they done to her? "They got to you didn't they?" 

Whispering, helpless to conceal either the truth from him 
or the consequences were she to reveal it, "I can't...I can't 
do what they want, I can't...hurt you, Mulder. But they'll kill you.." 

"They're using you to stop me. They asked you to stop me." 

She nodded. Felt overwhelming joy/nausea/fright. 

He kissed her forehead. "It's okay, it's okay." 

Gently, he tilted her face up toward him with two fingers 
under her chin. She'd never said so, but she liked it when
he did that. He was the only one in her life who did it now. 

"All right." He said. 

She questioned him with her eyes. 

He continued. "I mean, I'll give it up, I won't go after Cancer
Man. For you. For now. If it's that important." 

_YOU_ are that important. 

Her lip quivered and she tried to smile for him, but instead 
began crying. It was visible a gratitude and a secret relief. 

And a terrible burden of guilt that she knew she would carry
from that time forward until the day she could speak the 
truth to him. And nothing but the truth. 

She cried for a few minutes as he held her head and pressed 
his face into her hair. He knew that whatever it was that had 
happened to her, he would not, could not let it destroy her. 
He'd do whatever thing was necessary, whatever it took, to 
ensure her safety. He'd comply. 

Scully felt his strong, beautiful hands against her head and 
relished in their presence. In their life that would remain. 

She said a silent prayer: I've just done an unforgivable thing, 
I've lied to your face. And, even worse, I have added myself
to your burdens. In order for you to continue living. To keep 
you safe. Forgive me. 

"If it'll help you." Mulder was saying. " But you have to promise 
me you'll come to me when you are ready to-"


"Yes." she said before he could say more. A supplication: Mulder,
I am so sorry for what I've done. I am sorry because I've lied to 
you once more. Now I AM part of an agenda. Caught and unwilling. 
But if lies will keep you alive- 

"Now will you do something for me?" 

-I'll learn to tell them well. "What?" 

"Arrange for bail so I can get out of here?" 

Scully smiled. "Yes." 

******

Scully brought Mulder home and, after much coaxing, 
had him agree to stay one day and one night in the hospital to
replace his body fluids, sadly depleted after his week-long
self-neglect. Once tucked in the hated bed, he'd succumbed
to sleep. 

That afternoon, Scully returned to Augusta. 

*** 

"Dana Scully is here." 

"Leave her be. Let her come." 

*** 

"Why?" 

Scully stood in the center of a mountain cabin kitchen,
staring at the gnarled face of a man she'd hoped never to
lay eyes on again. But here he was. After years of having
almost encounters, after the hurts done by his hand to her
partner (yes! - working together or not, she still thought of 
him that way and more) and his family, here he was - the
old Grim Reaper with a tube up his nose. His lungs must
be diseased, his tobacco sticks finally having done their 
own evil. 

Good! 

"Why what?" 

"Why Samantha? Why his father? Why all these lies and pain
on him?" 

Scully said a silent curse and blessing for The Lone Gunmen. 

She'd followed Mulder yesterday because of what they'd said 
to her when she was gone, in that blinded white/black place. 
She'd followed him because she didn't want him to die. 

"Answer me!" Came here alone. Didn't care if they shot her. 

"I haven't done a thing to Agent Mulder. Not recently at least." 

Liar! "This has already put Mulder back in the hospital once. 
He's on the verge of another nervous breakdown because of 
Samantha's murder. She was the last of his family." 

She thought she saw something flicker in the old, rheumy
eyes. 

"If you are here to accuse me of Samantha Mueller's murder,
you've made a useless trip." 

"Look." She decided to beg since anger was doing little. Threats 
would be as pointless. "I've done what you asked. I kept him away. 
But I need something to give to him. I'm asking this for me. Is there
something I can do for you so you will leave him alone?" 

"I've asked nothing of you. There's nothing anyone can do for 
me, Agent Scully. You don't believe me, I realize, but I've done 
nothing to Fox." 

She was startled at his use of Mulder's first name. 

"Mulder, he's...tired. I'm tired. He won't interfere anymore. He'll
listen to me. I promise you that. I'm begging you." 

"Agent Scully, I am old and ill and the game is almost over. I
won't see the end of it." 

"But you want to see the end of Mulder." 

"I never wanted that, but I'm only one man. I couldn't prevent
everything." 

"How did you know Teena Mulder?" 

Bubbling oxygen interwove with words, "A somewhat personal
question. I knew Teena when I was a young man, and Bill Mulder, 
too, of course. And Fox. A life-time ago, now." 

"Did you know her in the biblical sense?" 

"Impertinence will get you no-" 

"Are you Mulder's biological father?!" 

"I don't know. Teena kept some things very much to herself. She
didn't want to hurt her son. I have no intentions of harming him
either. If Fox is ill, perhaps you'd best serve him by attending to
him in the hospital. And if you're suspecting my former colleagues
of collusion against him, somehow I don't think leaving him alone
and unguarded was a sound decision. Besides, others seem to 
have taken more of an interest in him these days." 

Cryptic, double-talking bullshitter! 

Scully wanted to throttle the old son-of-a-bitch. If it weren't
for the Ugly Giant standing behind her, she would have shot
him. Maybe. 

Scully felt her resolve almost give way. She did not want to
give that old prick the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Of knowing 
he had once again beaten Mulder down and, in consequence,
her. 

She turned to leave. 

"Agent Scully." 

She didn't face him again. "What?" Contempt rang out. 

"If I could help Mulder, I would." 

"Why didn't you get a cure for your own cancer?" She wanted 
to hurt him and it was the only thing she could think of. 

"Possibly, I could have. But nothing cures old age." 

"I'm glad you're dying. This time, in your case, justice will be 
meted out." 

"I sent Mulder the anonymous tip." 

"You?!" 

"I was hoping he would find out, somehow, who murdered 
Samantha." 

Seems even devils can love. "We don't know who." 

"That's unfortunate news...I tried to pay one debt at least. Perhaps
it isn't enough. Perhaps it's too late for me." 

Scully paused, the smallest shout of triumph sang in her at his
illness and his suffering. And that the Real Grim Reaper makes no
distinctions. "Absolution? That would be more than you deserve." 



He sat staring after her, even after the big door had been shut
and bolted once again. 

Approximately five hundred toxic agents. That's what he'd sucked 
into his lungs and exhaled. Suck in. Exhale. 

Suck. 

Blow. 

For years until they reduced him to their level. Cancer Man, for the 
sobriquet fit perfectly now, certainly knew that every cigarette had 
steadily reduced his life expectancy by fifteen minutes. The 
millions of teeny death particles had done their work with all 
the same efficiency that he had done his. 

But he hadn't minded back then. 

His Helper spoke: "These others are interfering in the Work.
Destroying our placements. They work for a different future." 

"Their work doesn't concern me." he was saying to his younger 
and much healthier companion standing before him in the 
kitchen cabin, "The Associates and I want to know why the 
children are dying." 

"We will find out." 

"I'm sure you will." Cancer Man's face was one that had 
undoubtedly begun youthful and strong but had, as the years 
passed, fallen down his cheeks. It now seemed in a state of 
perpetual motion, giving the illusion of sliding off the bones. 

The younger, healthier, more massive man nodded. "Who 
do you believe they are?" 

"New players. Someone who shouldn't be interfering. Now, 
with your able assistance, we must interfere with them. Before 
they destroy all of our Watchers." 

"What if they are more powerful? Will we be able-?" His 
unblinking eyes and square-block jaw showed nary a feeling.


"The power is the Work and the rules and you know the first 
rule? The first rule is that all other rules change if the situation 
warrants it. Besides," he wheezed, "there is no other power. 
You're proof of that." 

*** 

DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT: 

Scully was trying to deflect another disaster, Mulder-
style. 

Home for a day and a half. 

He wanted in on the investigation. Behind Skinner's back
would be just fine.



"Scully, I stopped my pursuit of the Smoking man, now I 
want to go back to work. Let's approach Skinner and-" 

"What if they go after you?" 

"I'm suppose to stop working too? I can't do that. I can't 
just around here and watch people die, knowing what I 
know, that the Black Oil is involved.." 

"They might interpret your interest in these cases as a threat
to him and make a move on you. We discussed this." 

"We didn't discuss _this_; hiding away, doing nothing. I'm
leaving the Smoking Man alone, I've stopped chasing my
own personal answers, that should be enough for _Them_." 

"What if it isn't?" 

"I can't just sit around and hope everything works out,
Scully-" 

"Are you going to save the world, Mulder?" 

"Why the hell not? Somebody has to try at least,
why the hell not me!?" 

"After everything you've been through, after
everything we've seen? These people can't be
touched. Mulder, you're a fly on a monster. You 
walk up to them and you disappear, they 
sneeze and you're gone. You were gone! They
made it happen. They made you disappear!" 

He moved to leave and she knew it was his way of
closing his ears to truth. He would foolishly go through 
that door and vanish again. Mulder would be no more. 
They would see to it. 

"Nooooo! No-Don't-you-dare-walk-out-that-door!" 

He stopped.... 

"...Until you listen to me!" 

...just short of an final exit out of her life, his back to 
her, stiff and ready to leap. 

Scully planted her feet between him and her door. 

"I don't believe it. You're going. You're just going to
_go_, like always. Despite the danger to yourself and
to your career. Your future. You'll risk it all to be right.
And not even for a SURE right. A MAYBE right." 

"You think my career means more to me than you and
what they did? And what they're still doing to others?
I'm so sick of lies. I can't live with them anymore. I can't
turn my head away and shrug!" 

"Not even if it means losing me?" 

"You've got him. You don't need me, Scully." 

She stared at him. He still did not know. Did not see. He was
still blind to her. Still in darkness in himself. His words tiny.
Almost too small to hear. Difficult to believe. 

Then he said: 

"Maybe I am crazy. But an answer, at least it's something. It's
all I have left." 

She wanted to slug him and drive him straight out of his dense 
walk in the lonely night. 

"Goddamnit, Mulder. Why does everything have to be all
or nothing with you? You have this huge mountain of guilt
riding around on your shoulders and you expect others
to share it with you, to pay for all their mistakes with
the same self-destructive fury. Well, I don't! And I 
won't!" 

"Scully-" He started, his pride enforced stiffness having 
been worn down somewhat by her honesty. She was
right, it just hurt to be reminded of it. 

"Be quiet and listen for a change! You're angry, Mulder. 
You're angry at the world. You're angry with yourself, with 
your vulnerableness. Well, if you love me as you have said, 
then you _are_ vulnerable. Because love _is_ vulnerable. It's 
risky, it means being exposed and having to trust! And it 
means maybe getting hurt too." 

She paused for breath and continued more calmly. "So, 
if you're willing, you can be vulnerable with me, in fact, I 
require it. And this guilt and disappointment you have with 
your own failure to "save the universe", this guilt that daily 
consumes you pisses me off, do you know that?" Her voice 
rose again. "And do you know why? Because it degrades 
a man I happen to love, a man I consider not a disappointment 
and not a failure. That negative attitude lends no credit to 
my value of you and that pisses me off too! How many times
do we have to go over it?! We say it and say it and nothing 
changes. You make me insane. So you're a little screwed up. 
Who isn't?! What I have to offer isn't purer than pure, it's normal,
everyday feelings. I mean what the hell are you waiting for: The 
Magic Bus of Love to pull up and make a delivery?! Here I am,
Mulder, take me or leave me, but will you STOP waiting. whatever
it is, it comes from here." She thumped her chest with her finger. 
"And god knows it can come from inside you, because it's in there. 
I've seen it. Will you just accept it, please? Because this enormous
self-depreciation in which you constantly indulge pisses me off!" 

Scully was standing an inch from him, making sure her
words hit home, aiming them right at him so he couldn't
possibly duck. Her eyes suddenly bugged as though an
unexpected light surfaced. "YOU piss me off, Mulder!" She 
stuck a finger in his face. 

Scully was breathing hard and then, when his face 
and countenance started their crumbling at her words,
she reached up to repair any lasting damage by taking his 
face in her palms, gently so it would not break him. 

Mulder trusted enough to look back at her and there,
instead of righteous anger, was tender feeling in forgiving 
eyes and a wetness that ran to her chin. She bit her lip 
and spoke: "Y-you piss me o-o-f-f-f-f..." 

Scully drew him to her mouth and drank from the water she'd
been thirsting for. Drank deeply. The journey had been long and 
the liquid fought for with body and soul, so it was sweeter 
than any. 

Scully let the next leg take it's own course as she continued
to kiss and kiss him, soon backing him against her kitchen counter
and with arms encircling his neck, guided him to the floor. Quickly
she shed his coat. The buttons on his shirt fell way under 
her fingers, the garment sliding off to end up down around his 

wrists and bunched around his backside. Swiftly, his jeans were
opened and being pulled away from his hips, his underwear coming off
with them. 

"Scully..." He whispered and she could hear the quiver under the
breathless way he said her name. "I-I'm n-not..sure I'm ready for 
this.." But his respiration's were quick and light and his skin 
had flushed to a beautiful hue. It spurred her on. 

"That's a risk you'll just have to take..."




WATER: 

Scully explored his mouth and lips and tongue with her
own, not wanting to end the first contact. But other journeys
were there, too, waiting for her. 

She kissed throat and he leaned his head back to accommodate
her. She sucked on nipple and applied tiny bites to muscles,
and tongue to chest and stomach hair. His flesh would drive her
insane. She would get lost in it - she was certain - in his sex. 

Scully heard the words well learned and ingrained in her
medical mind. 

She kissed them, sucked them on her way south, down,
down, down to his most perfect portion: 

The orbicular and the risorius. 

The stern-o-cleid-o-massss-toooooid. 

Trapezius. Deltoid. Pectorals. 

Anterior se-e-e-erraaaaatussssss... 

The tight, rolling, obliques. 

The looooong adductors. 

The witch doctor in her smiled secretly and nipped 
at it; the notorious sotoriussssssss... 

The words, so lovely in themselves were woefully
inadequate to describe the harmonious coming
together of all his parts into the pagan beautiful 
flesh of his writhing, consumable body. 

Finely crafted. Finally achieved. An icon molded to be 
worshipped with hands, teeth and tongue. 

Finally, her goal reached and lips and mouth sought out
curls and silky tautness of what had been denied to her for
too long. 

She hesitated, drinking in his nakedness. The exposed
and beautiful head, divested of its sheath when he was a 
babe, now a man's and offered to her. His rosy, tender 
bud atop the long, stiffened root. 

She took his ridged penis in and rolled and sucked it, with 
eyes wantonly gazing up to watch his sweet trembling, his 
lower lip disappearing and reappearing, bitten and pinched 
under teeth in his desperate struggle. 

She watched as he split in half, part afraid but part surrendering 
to her touch that felt soooo good. His brows drew together in 
default; succumbed; eyes shut; begging for more and for 
mercy as well. 

"Just feel my lips, Mulder, just feel my mouth on you..." 

Mulder. 

Suddenly belonged. 

So completely to her. 

Sliding full length to the floor, he was wholly vulnerable as 
he had never before been to anything or anyone. 

Trusting her. He declared all to her through sighs and soft 
moans so she would not betray his trust and they would 
complete the journey together. 

Scully sucked in the feel of him and tasted the scent of him
until she was moist for wanting him. But she did not want to
top this first hill until he lay back in peace from it. 

Watching him gasp as she sucked him was food from the gods.
Soon she would have their drink as well. Quicker, more insistent
she became and, eyes shut in disbelief of what he was feeling,
his head whipped back and forth in the instinct to free himself 
from the sexual enslavement. 

But, he was caught. 

Yet, he was willing. 

That anything should taste as good or be as perfect as he, was a 
mystery she didn't care to uncover. His spasms and moans came often, 
pleasing her. He had leaned up during his months on the Island and 
his stomach was fine and flat. The whole of his body, beautiful in it's 
center shape of skin over rippling muscle, was her landscape. 

He would raise his head from her kitchen floor with eyes dilated
in sweet shock for what she was doing. His silent gratitude was a gift 
to her - as was his perfection. Her love for him made him that. 

She would conquer his center and his circumference, his end and
his beginning. 

Her offering. 

Scully massaged, ever-so-gently, his testicles in a warm hand. He
spoke to her in the language of carnal surrender - in moans she had
never heard. His need, his trust and his want, his helpless state 
in her presence, made her wetter and wanting more from him. 

Her embracing of his most secret parts: 

Was the Hope she had spoken of. 

Fox Mulder. 

Her's now, and hers alone. 

He sat up and laced new-born fingers through her hair. 

"Mulder, no..." She placed a hand against his warm and
weeping flesh, pushing him once more to the floor. "No,
baby," she whispered, "lie down, lie back down sweetheart,..." 

Mulder descended once more, but his fingers splayed on 
the cool tile, trying to find grips there rather than give in 
to instinct by taking her head between his hands and 
shoving himself into her. 

Scully worked him until her jaw ached. Mulder moaned and
tried not to accelerate the process but allow her total will. 

She quickened, wanting him to feel her swallow him down. And
then his offering was given; his innermost life offered up. 

His deepest gift and most honest agreement. 

He came and arched up, grabbing her hair, thrusting into her,
crying out. 

Scully's heart smiled. It was okay - that last. She had gladly let him
make the final ruling. He was a man and, in this instance, impossible 
for him not to have done. 

In physical automation his brain left the earth for those seconds, and 
he fucked her mouth until he was empty. 

She swallowed, the more for him to be part of her. That, after all, 
had been her goal. 

For a few seconds Mulder stayed that way, hands in her hair, head
on her shoulder, arched over her like Greek Erotica until finally
he lay back in delicious fatigue. 

Afterward, Scully lay on top of him for a moment while his breathing
calmed and his mind returned from that ethereal place she'd sent it.
She didn't want to talk, just smell him and kiss his face and wait 
for his trembling to stop. 

Finally, words seemed appropriate. "...And I love you, Mulder. Don't 
you know that yet?" 



EARTH AND FIRE: 

When he was able to stand, he took her by the hand and lead
her into her bedroom with the neat-cornered bed. He began unbuttoning
her blouse and didn't seem to mind that she helped. His fingers,
shaking, fumbled a bit and she smiled up at him. 

Mulder is naked in my bedroom, she told herself over and over.
Mulder's nude and he's taking off my clothes and he's going to fuck 
me. He's going to shove his already hard cock inside me and come! 

She was flushed with heat in her face and in her vagina. She herself
would come _instantly_. 

He was slow with the funny clasps on her slacks. They were
fancy little hooks all the way up one side. She took control
and undid them expertly, her passions for him running so
wildly through her head, she all but tore the pants from her body,
shimmying out of them and slipping her damp panties off in
one quick motion. Then she took his shoulders, maneuvered
him around so he was against the bed and pushed. 

He fell back, bouncing, his long, hard and inviting looking penis 
bobbing. It was asking for her and she accepted. Scully slipped herself
over him, delighted in the long moan it elicited from his
mouth. She began rocking. 

He filled her completely. He was hard and so very, very hot, she 
wondered if she'd live through it. Her chest was a bubble of thrill and 
sex-drive and she moved him every which way, wanting to fuck him
until it killed her, until she exploded with orgasm. 

Before she knew it, they were coming together. She wanted every
last drop and squeezed and tilted until she'd gathered it. 

I'm going to carry Mulder's living cum around in me all day tomorrow.
I'll think of it there and remember who put it there. I'll remember
and know that _he_ filled me up. 

Mulder's sex had just decorated her insides and it was hot
liquid gold! 

The thought was like floating in the ocean. 

"Ooooohhh my GOD!, Mulder, I _fucking_ love your cock!" 

A bit crude, perhaps, but it was only the truth. Nothing spurious here. 
No platitudes need arise when faced with the male sex that was 
alive in Fox Mulder. 

********

SKY: 

Mulder did not let her separate from him but rolled
her over and kept himself tucked away inside. 

Looking at her from almost the level of her own skin but an 
inch were the eyes that saw within. She could not lie to their
demand for truth. Not for long, certainly. Neither could she
turn from the face of a boy who had grown up, became her partner,
then her best friend, then her confidant and protector until, one
day, he was not merely a person, but a man under her gaze. 

A male. 

Something more had conceived. 

Before her each day as he walked into their office or to her 
apartment on those rare occasions he allowed himself to invade 
her privacy that much, someone new was there. He had seemed to 
revere her hideaway, a thing he felt the need to protect because it 
was part of her. Protect even from himself. His emptiness had been 
so great yet he had asked so little of her, as if his needs were 
inconsequential compared to her peace. 

One day, partner and friend, the next a man. The opposite sex.
Suddenly, that day, bursting forth from her female mind, came the
realization that her affection and care for him was mingling with
desire and lust. 

He was on her mind constantly.


A creature for whom she already had such affection that the next 
step suddenly seeming logical and correct. 

Not acted upon, however. She, too, felt the need to protect. To keep
him from harm or hurt, even unintentional. She did not know how he
saw her then. Suspicions were not foundation enough upon which
to lay out her heart. But her eyes saw clearly what her heart 
questioned. 

He had risked all for her. Would willingly destroy himself to save 
her. Years ago he had done so and done so again.


A day arrived where she learned the certainty of it. 

Awakening on a plateau of freezing ice and snow, his face was the
shining angel of the Old Testaments, his embrace the burning bush
that warmed her in that place yet both embodied in simply a man. 

Who had looked to the sky and laughed! 

Then dropped his head to the surface of the Antarctic, satisfied with
his visions and that they contained both the wonder of the sky and 
the life in her that would remain. 

Her heart beat only for him from that moment forward. She would 
have told him then had he not gone into pre-death slumber. 

Gathering as much of him in her arms as possible, she had lifted
him from that almost death and infused her life-will into him as she 
did the warmth of her body. 

He came for me. Here. He came alone. 

Wounded, he still came. 

Would have willingly died just in trying. 

He'd become more to her, then, than anything else in life. 

Partner, friend,...then man, sexual male, other half, perfect mate, 
second-soul... 

Loving human being whom she loved....



Mulder kissed her, tasting all with his tongue and open mouth. Lovely,
open lips. He was hardening again and moving around in her, she could feel
him swell and push out at her depths until stuffed with his penis. 

Then he moved, everywhere, all-over in every direction at once! And his
lips sucked tit and tummy skin and neck and face and mouth until she
might drown in him. His cock squeezing in and out of her, his hips 
pumping up and down. And all she could think about was it was her
old partner fucking her brains out! It was Mulder. Spooky. The
cute genius who'd looked at her through those old glasses making
her heart flip just once. The guy who had covered up his nervousness
and anxiety when he saw that his new partner and spy was a petite, pretty 
little thing. Nerves he covered over with cockiness that was so put-on, 
it was sexy. 

He'd teased her and had somehow managed not to be an asshole about it. 

Fox Mulder, bringing her a sports video. Placing her gold cross and
chain in her hand with a shy grin and then slipping out her hospital 
room door as if scared to betray how terribly her disappearance 
had affected him. 

Mulder, who'd thanked her for taking care of him when he was sick
from poisoned water. Who thanked her because she had tended his
poison-induced fevers across four states and three days of driving. 
Fox, who had come to her out of the fire, in a dream, to assure her 
that he was alive and would come back to her. 

Mulder, who had wept profusely at her bedside as she lay dying
of cancer and blood-loss. 

Fox Mulder, her partner, who had said she made him whole... 

..fucked her and never let his eyes leave her face as he
filled her with cum. She wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled
him in, wanting more. He gave more, until he was dry. 

His eyes were large, black holes and she looked deeply, as 
always. 

Reflected in each eye of Azure and Hazel, was the other's. 

He collapsed on her softness, weak with having emptied into her. 
"Black." He said in her ear. 

She stroked his back with finger tips, up and then down. "What?" 

"My favorite color," he panted quietly, "is black." 

Afterward, Scully wanted to shower. Not him - she loved his after-sex
smell. A new and powerful odor. She wanted herself and the room 
filled with it.


When she moved to rise from the bed... 

"No" He pleaded. "No." And drew her to him under the sheets, 
wrapping him legs around her, and resting his face between her 
underarm and breast to hibernate in her smell of sex and perfume. 
She saw his eyes flicker closed and felt his breath calm into the 
deep rhythms of sleep. 

**



TRUST: 

She was showering and the sound of the spray and the heated mist 
reached him from the open bathroom door. It was like waking next 
to a tropical waterfall. 

He could see Scully's feminine form soap itself down and he quietly
padded to the curtain, watching her touch her own body until he could
no longer endure being denied that action. 

Mulder pulled back the curtain and stepped in with her. 

"I want to do that." Taking the soap from her hand, he lathered
her back, his hand reaching around to soap her breasts that tightened at 
their tips under his touch. He slipped the slivered bar in between her
legs and lovingly used his fingers to spread the silky cleansing agent
into every canal and canyon. 

He let the soap drop, lathering her sex with tactile fingers. She
moaned and it was the sound they both wanted. He was hard, ready to 
speak back. 

"Bend over, Scully." And she complied, turning up that golden bottom
to him eagerly. 

Mulder shoved himself deeply inside. She hadn't douched yet and was
lubricated for him. He penetrated as far as nature allowed and then
pulled away but never exiting. Tight, hot, wet Scully smothered his
cock and it was as near to heaven as he would ever get in this life. 

Her moans of pleasure mingled into a music with his and he thrust
harder. Lifting her slight mass in his arms, one perfect thigh
under each forearm, he pressed himself against her and she against
the shower wall, shoving his cock in and out. She had nothing to grip, 
no control over what happened to her body under his greater strength
but was letting him do his desire. 

"Mulder-r-r-r-AH!" Liking it! Moaning for more. 

He had spread and taken her in a way he had secretly imagined
over and over for years. He was fucking Dana Scully and she wanted 
it! 

He pounded her box that ached for him until his mind joined the
flight of the shower drops and scattered into mist. 



BELIEVE THE TRUTH:



He soaped her down again and then she did the same for him. Then
he wrapped her in a towel, carried her to the bed. She knew what
he wanted, what he couldn't get enough of and let the towel fall away,
laying back for him on the bed, ready for him. Always, she would
be ready. Wanting him. _Wanting_ him. 

Mulder didn't do anything for a moment but look at her. Memorizing
the swell of her tits with their pink nipples pinched tight in lust
while he watched. The slight curve of her tummy, a perfect pillow for 
his hips. His eyes plunged down to her waiting femaleness, fur 
glistening with need. 

Mulder gently raise each of her legs, his hands on the backs of 
her thighs, pushing upward until full view of pussy and vagina were 
exhibited. 

He stayed that way, looking at her. He wondered if there could
ever be anything more beautiful in the world than this: Scully
naked beneath him. Carpet and clit' created just for him by the 
talented God whom she worshipped. When he licked his lips, she
sucked in air at the meaning. It was the only thing he was hungry
for. The only food for years that would fill him without any
kind of hurt but for the pain of that it would never be enough. 

All of Scully was his. His to kiss and lick, smell and touch,
kneed and fuck forever. 

Mulder took her tiny member, the female hint of the male, between
his lips in a pout and sucked ever-so-gently, teasing, tickling, until
she was writhing under him and around him, her legs shuddering in 
sex-trembles. He licked and then kissed it over and over, teeny 
touches and she cried: "Mulder, oh god, Mulder, oh, fuck, oh 
_FUCK_!". 

He used two fingers to stroke her in and out until she was begging
him. Begging to feel him again. "Do you want me, Scully? Do you want 
me to fuck your pussy? Suck your tits? Suck your cunt? Do you want me?
I want you to _want_ me." 

"YES!" She cried. Whimpered, "y-e-s-s-s-s, so bad, so bad...,
fuck me, please, baby-Fox-sweety-Mulder-doll, I wanna feeeeel you,..
you're perfect-perfect, you're so perfect, fuck me forever...Pe-r-r-r...f-e-ct.." 

Mulder moved himself into position and he was inside, thrusting
and jerking up and down on top of her. Felt her clench around him
and then let him go, again and again, her hips rising up to meet 
him each time. 

He rode her like that, pumping furiously until he came with a cry and
she was overflowing with it. 

She kissed him hard on the lips as her insides spasmed and clutched
him, caught him and would not let go. He collapsed, burying his face
in the hollow of her shoulder, confessing slavery to his priestess: 

"I love you, Scully. I love you so much. I would die if I lost you, I was
dying, I was...don't let anyone else touch you anymore, I don't want 
anyone touching like this, Just-me-just-me, _me_, please, only me..." 

He would kill them if they did. If they hurt her again. If they took
her and made her hurt or cry or frightened her. If anything tainted
of their moral disease ever burrowed into her beautiful-like-the-sun-
is-beautiful body, mind, brain, soul and life again, causing her to
cease and leave him, he would kill them all and then kill himself. 

"Anything you want. Anything, Mulder, anything..." She kissed his
mouth to seal it. "...anything in this world. Nothing can touch us 
now..." She kissed him, held him, absorbed him into her - until
now - piteously soul-less being. 

"...nothing." 

**** 

One more thing. 

Fox Mulder turned it over in his mind as he entered the elevator.
Each floor added one or two riders until eight or nine had crowded him to
the back. 

Just one more thing would make his life paradise. No, paradise had
arrived in his life two nights ago. 

It had come to him when he'd been stepping out her door ready to
face hell because he wanted them to pay for bringing a taste of it to her.
He knew what it was like to be blind and terrified. Promise to her or no
promise, he could not sit by. 

Scully'd lived a white/black hurting place for the second time because 
of them and to a lesser degree, because of him. And that was unacceptable. 

He could not let it pass. 

She deserved better than what he had brought her for the years since their
awkward beginning in a chilly basement office cluttered as it had been with
ideals and determinations. 

She deserved so much more that what he could give now. 

He'd felt his heart atrophy at the knowledge of the other who had held
that future for her in his outstretched hand. 

The best man would have her and she would be safe. 

But she - Scully - had prevented his leaving and made him believe in
something good again. She had showed him her heart and taken his,
in it's presence and physical representation - convincingly. 

Doctor-Agent Dana Katherine Scully loved him. 

Was in love _with_ him. 

She'd said it before. More than once. Hearing it and nodding and brain
choosing correct words to speak back had not made his heart believe it 
though. 

Brain and heart disputed the meaning and had done so since the beginning. 

Now there was agreement. The questioning had ceased. 

Only one more thing would make the paradise warmer. 

Today, that very morning, she'd brought that to him as well:



Scully sat down with him in his cubicle on a chair she dragged over from 
the next "slot" - his word for the one place in the Bureau he could call his 
own. 

"It's not just you, Mulder." 

She continued, knowing he would not understand her meaning. "These 
murders, the Allenby's, Ian, Samantha, they're not because of some taint 
of death you carry or a dark conspiracy involving only you." 

Mulder listened closely, knowing from experience that she was not 
counseling, but was building up to some new revelation. 

"These strange deaths of children, these killings, they're happening all 
over the world. Before Beyer died, he'd been gathering information, had 
a half dozen law enforcement agencies searching world data basis for 
similar deaths; similar unsolved cases; similar signatures at the crime 
scenes."


She scooted her chair in closer and leaned into him, her face to his. "Dead 
children, Mulder with no determinable cause of death, all between the ages 
of 7 to 14. Unexplained deaths, hundreds of them. And if we include third world 
countries where data is sketchy? Maybe thousands." 

Mulder shook his head but not in disbelief. "Hundreds? I don't understand. If 
that's true, there was no single UnSub or even a single group. The call to me, 
the case itself?" 

"All exactly what you thought they were. Somebody wanted me on this case. 
But for some reason, not you." 

"What else do you have?" 

"Not much. Autopsy findings, Interviews that tell us little. But something terrible 
is happening, I can't begin to guess what and it's not only occurring in North 
American. All we do know is people are dying. Bizarre crime scenes being 
discovered where the parents or guardians, baby-sitters - whoever - and the 
children are murdered all the same way. But also at each crime scene, one 
other child is also found mysteriously dead. I've asked Director Skinner to assign 
another agent to me as an assistant on this case. THIS..." She held up her thick 
file folder like a flag, "is an X-File. Our office may have burned, Mulder, but the 
X-Files are alive and well and this is the scariest one I've ever seen, how about you?" 

"Ditto." 

Scully looked into tired but happier hazel eyes and debated whether to tell him
the rest of what had been eating at her. She opened the honey jar, now out comes
the stinger. 

Do and die. 

Together. Whole. 

But then, too, must the whole truth be. 

"Confession time." she said. 

Mulder sat forward a bit. She had his complete attention. 

"First, I love you more than anything in this screwed up world. And
if you don't believe that after the things about me that I'm about to tell you,
then speaking truth between us means zilch. And it means I'll have to
punch your lights out. Okay?" 

"I won't presume to argue with _that_." 

She took a deep breath. This was going to hit him like a truck. 

"First of all, I lied to you. I slept with Walter Skinner during the time you 
and I were _not_ together." 

His eyes dropped and by that she knew it hurt him but he said nothing. 

After a moment, he looked back up. Nodded. 

It was forgiven and done. 

One down. 

"The men who took me told me that if I didn't stop you from interfering
in their "expectations of things", they would stop you. I took that to mean 
they would kill you. And forgive me, Mulder but that is simply not an option
in my life any longer. Tying you up wasn't practical, so we, meaning Skinner 
and I, consulted together. I falsified my initial report about what happened
in the subway station so the blame would fall on you and you would lose
your credibility and the resources to pursue the Smoking Man and your 
answers. If you think I was content with what I did, how I tried to save
you, think again." 

"Later, when you were in jail, I told you a half truth, to try and save you 
once more. Again at your apartment, I lied. But nothing worked Mulder. 
You're unstoppable. You're like a tsunami once you set your mind to 
something. That scares the hell out of me, you know." 

Mulder was listening. He was not looking at her and his parlor was alternating
from pink to white, but he was shutting up. 

"Not even the threat that you might lose me or that it could destroy me - 
not even actually losing me - stopped you and that scares me even more." 

He swallowed once. Twice. 

"But I realized it's because you didn't really believe that I loved you 
anyway." Scully searched for his eyes. "Do you now?" 

He nodded but did not give her his eyes. 

"Don't be ashamed, Mulder, it happens to the best of us." Smiled. 

She was satisfied to see his lip twitch at least. 

"So I'm not perfect. Am I? I've done some pretty awful things that
I'm not proud of. But I've forgiven myself the only way I really could.
I reminded myself, about a thousand times, that you were the reason.
Behind my motivations was you. Keeping you. I hope you can
forgive me. I hope that above all else." 

She waited anxiously as he scratched his eyebrow and fiddled with
his pencil. Finally looking at her with eyes swimming in water. "Of
course. Your the only thing I want above all else." He believed. 

He believes I love him, she thought. Finally. 

Thank-you Universe! 

Scully let her body collapse with relief. 

"I'm not perfect either, Scully." 

He had something to say as well. She listened. It wasn't easy to do.
Actually, it was damn hard because of what he might say. 

"When you were...gone, I went to see a friend.,..." He paused. The
'fessing business was tough. "I was dying, Scully. I thought you were dead.
And if your weren't dead, I thought..." 

She knew. He thought it was Her and Skinner; Walt' n' Dana. 

Skinner and Scully and zip for Mulder. 

"I was going out, really "out", and he helped me figure it out, understand 
- helped me see a few things. Nothing "happened". But if he hadn't been 
there, I might have I don't know what I might have done actually." He stared
hard at her, "They killed him you know." 

Scully took his shaking hand. Squeezed it with her own on the tiny
desk between them. "I'm so sorry. But I'm so glad he was there. I'm glad,
Mulder. Do you hate me for being with Walter." 


"No." He didn't really hate Skinner either. "No. Di-did you,...w-was he...
was he..?" 

"Not _bad_." Her lips twisted and pursed teasingly. "But, Mulder, I have to
tell you: first they broke the mold. Then they made _you_." 

He blushed to his roots. 

Time to change the subject, she thought. 

"There's something else I didn't tell you. Something I remember from 
when they took me. They spoke about you. A lot. About your searching
into the case. But more than that, they said they'd been aware - and I 
quote: "of you and of the children for some time". They said the children 
"must not be violated"." 

Scully could see his eyes light up like two tiny suns. 

"It's those kids, Mulder. The kids are the key to all this. Don't ask me
how, I can't begin to understand why or even the manner in which they're 
being killed. But that's where this investigation needs to look for those 
answers. the ones to those questions you keep asking. Something's killing 
these children and we have to find out how and who. Even if it means risking 
agents. Hundreds of children and their families. Maybe more. It shouldn't
be." 

Mulder agreed with an emphatic nod. He asked: "So who's the lucky slob?" 
Meaning whatever new partner she was soon due. 

"Well, he's not my type but he shows promise." 


Despondent, "Yeah?" Annoyed too. 

"Yeah. Skinner told me to go and bring my new partner..." Mulder winced "...up
to date on all of this." Scully leaned in and quickly kissed his lips. "So, whadda ya'
say, Partner, care to read it?"



Mulder had stared like a shocked fool and then his face split into a grin that made
Scully stagger. Once or twice she'd seen that. Maybe not even. 

Mulder had kissed her back, feeling light headed. Even the nausea that kicked in 
from the excitement didn't bother him. 

And it wasn't just because he was back on the job as something more resembling
a real agent, it was because he was there with Scully. And he was there with a Scully 
who held an X-File in her tiny, delicate but incredibly powerful hand. 

Because she worked those hands through problems and kneaded them out. 

Because she took shit and spun it into gold. She just made things happen. 

She'd made him happen. And them. 

Mulder indulged a loving look at his redheaded partner: She had to be a witch!



** 

Skinner waited patiently along with half a dozen 
employees who, when their look brushed passed his, 
smiled or nodded. 

No-one ignored an opportunity to say good-day
to the Director himself. Ass-kissing at it's most 
refined. 

-Ding!- 

The elevator doors opened and instead of
a steady stream of humans filing out, they were
huddled around in a circle within, looking down on
something he could not see. 

Sentences were being spoken: 

"Hey? Are you okay?", 

"Can you get up?", 

"Maybe we should we call an ambulance?" 

Skinner pushed his way through the crowd when he
recognized the voice of the one who answered: 

"No. No, I'm fine. Just got a bit dizzy, that's all." 

Skinner looked down between stranger's shoulder's
to see Mulder sitting on his ass in the middle of the 
onlookers. 

"Agent Mulder? What happened?" He offered his hand
and Mulder gratefully accepted, letting Skinner pull
him to his feet. 

"Nothing. I just got dizzy. Working too hard I guess." 

Skinner saw the dismissive look in Mulder's eyes, the
non-concern with himself. "I think you should go to a doctor." 

"No, really, sir. I'm fine now." 

Skinner saw stain on the back of Mulder's collar. "Come
out here, turn around." 

Mulder was puzzled but decided it was best to obey the
Director. 

Skinner's finger was touching his collar and neck. "There's 
blood on your shirt, Mulder. Did you hit your head when you 
fainted?" 

"I didn't faint, I got dizzy." But he did feel a small bump
on the back of his head. "But, yeah, I must have whacked my skull
on the handrail in there." 

"Well, that calls for a trip to emergency." 

Mulder knew that under his current status, medical concerns
were top of the list on things to "watch for". He nodded. "I'll
drive over there after work." 

"You'll cab it and you'll go now. This happened at work so it's
legit and you're covered for it." 

Mulder sighed. He was so sick of people watching out for him,
but arguing with Skinner would just get him a reprimand and his
position in the Bureau was shaky enough already. He nodded again,
heading for the front desk.




**** 

"Oh, Mulder..." Dana Scully muttered as she walked into
Mercy Emergency and asked the admitting nurse where she
might find the annoyance in question. 

Checking her screen, "Oh, yes. He was taken up to X-Ray. Looks
like he got a bump in the head when he,...wait, um who are you?" 

"I'm his doctor. Doctor Scully." She may as well be. 

"Oh, sorry. Um, he sort of passed out in an elevator. They think
he might have a very mild concussion, but the Resident wasn't worried." 

"Thanks." Scully made her way to X-Ray, by now familiar with every
closet and stairwell in the much availed-upon facility since life
began with a man named Mulder. Typically, he'd pushed himself
too hard again. He was still on two medications. But at forty-seven 
years of age, he was a middle aged dog trying to be a young pup. 

Scully smiled. Although, at that, two days ago, he had succeeded
_very_ well. 

Stepping off the elevator, she all but ran down Doctor Dethe'. 

Pronounced "Deeethe", "with a long "e"", Doc' had emphasized 
previously to Mulder who had, in Mulder-humor-fashion, called 
him "Death". Doc had not been amused at, Scully was sure, the 
play on his name that he had patiently endure probably a thousand 
times before. 

"Doctor Dethe'!" (long "e") she said, "Excuse me." 

"Doctor Scully? You'd be looking for Mister Mulder?" 

"Yes. Another one for his collection." She joked, knowing the Doc' 
wouldn't get it. "Another bump." 

"Yes." Dethe' was nothing if not humorless. He seemed grim, but 
he was a damn fine doctor. In other words, he'd handled Mulder 
before. "Would you care to examine the X-Ray?" 

Scully, surprised, nodded. "Sure. When is he being released?" 

Dethe' showed her into a small slide room and clipped the films of
Mulder's skull on the Back-Lit. 

Scully crossed her arms, getting comfortable and had a look. 

Dethe' was busy clipping up the C-Scan's they'd also taken. 

"Doctor Scully. Would you mind telling me what this man's doing 
running around the streets when it's clear he should be-" He turned 
around to finish his question and discovered the room empty but for 
himself.


* 

Scully walked fast. Faster. Down one hallway and another, looking, 
searching, seeking, needing... 

She saw a door that appeared like it might contain emptiness on the 
other side. Yanking it open, she ducked in. 

Not empty. Janitor room. Shelves piled with chemical cleaners. 

Disinfectant. Half full jugs of wax stripper. An orange mop-bucket
on wheels. Wooden mop, handle thrusting nearly to the low ceiling, 
nestled in it. 

Scully pulled the light cord, it tickled her face like a cob web, and 
closing the door to the hall from where eyes might see in and wonder 
at her implosion. 

Because there was nothing else to prevent her decent she grabbed 
hold of the mop handle and hung on, until the floor moved up to 
meet her. 

She sucked up deciliters of the mildewed and confining air of the
closet while staring into the face of a monster who had leaped out
at her from the X-Ray Back-Lit and followed her here. 

The monster she had been fearing had shown itself. 

It had come from the darkness into the light, opening
it's great mouth to pronounce its directive upon her. 

Gasping for air, her eyes absorbed water-soaked cotton mop string 
floating on the surface of dirty bucket water - rotting from bleach 
and wear. She added tears to it's poisonous chemical mix. And
bile. 

And when Scully steeled herself to look at that monster who 
was also a demon head-on with her burning eyes peering 
down that bottomless maw, what she saw looking back.




Was Emily.







END. But it's not over!!!!!! 

Continued in "DIVINITIES" (Book Four). Coming End March '99



*****



"We shall foldback unto ourselves.
Returning to that which sent us forth.
The Divine. 
The Unblemished Way.
We shall become as children
with no memories." 

Excerpt from:
A Composite of Scripture 
In the Manner of Songs"
GVB.




:-) 

GenieVB 

genyah@hotmail.com
or
Avan@home.com