TITLE: "Psyched" 
BY: Ten
E-MAIL ADDRESS: kristena@ocean.com.au 

CATEGORY: V, A, MSR
RATING: PG-13 for content
SUMMARY: What do you do when a vengeful psychic lets
loose embarrassing info about your partner, then, as an
encore, reveals one of your own dark secrets?
TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: Set a few months after
"Triangle", but before "Rain King". 

ARCHIVE INFO: It goes to Gossamer through xff. Can be
archived anywhere as long as my name, addy and disclaimer
stay intact.
FEEDBACK: Love it.
THANKS TO: The Usual Suspects (otherwise known as The
Gang Which I Annoy But Who Doth Not Complaineth).
Especially Debbie for going over this scenario almost as
many times as Mulder had to repeat "Monday", and to Gerry
for some wonderful suggestions despite being ill at the
time! 

My website for all my X-Files fanfiction, thanks to the
wonderful Skyfox, is at:
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Keep/1351 

DISCLAIMER: The X-Files, the episodes referred to, Mulder
and Scully and all other characters from the show belong
to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions and Fox
Broadcasting, and are used without permission. No
copyright infringement is intended, no profit will be
gained. Characters not recognised from the show are mine. 

The X-Files: "Psyched" 
By Ten, March/April 1999 

Here's some free advice: never piss off a psychic.
They're holding too many sticks of your personal
dynamite. Don't give them cause to light one... 

Take Archibald Aderlee. Scully and I no longer had the x-
files and were neck-deep in fertiliser duty, so we got
assigned the investigation of why an employee on good ol'
Arch's property had ordered such a large amount of the
stuff on his instructions. 

We were driving through rural Maryland to interview
Archie when I finally realised why his name and photo in
the file seemed so familiar to me. 

"Hey, Scully, I told you I recognised the guy - you ever
hear of 'Archie the Uncanny'?" 

She pursed her lips in thought. "Yeah... British
immigrant, nauseatingly flamboyant, advertises as a
psychic? Didn't you force me to sit through one of his TV
specials last year when we were stuck in the same motel
room?" 

I nodded. "Oh, Scully, wasn't it good for you?" 

I got pinned with The Glare, which was then transferred
back to the road. "That's him?" 

"Yep." I was gleeful. "His speciality is in seances." 

She sighed. "Unbelievable. Trust you to find an x-file
angle in here somewhere... He's a scammer, Mulder. I'm
surprised he got his green card." 

"But he had incredibly intimate knowledge of his clients
that he couldn't have known if he wasn't psychic. He says
he can talk to their dead relatives, and he's had very
satisfied customers." 

"And now a very rich lifestyle." Scully indicated with
her chin at the property we were turning into. "Looks
like Archie is a 'gentleman farmer' - big manor house on
a whopping chunk of land; someone managing the farm so he
won't get his hands dirty." She steered us down the tree-
lined drive, past fields that I certainly couldn't see
him tending to either. 

"How do you think he does it?" I asked. 

"Lots of employees." 

"No, I mean his ability. To talk to their dead
relatives." 

"I'm convinced that he would use newspaper databases and
old records to do meticulous background research on his
victims," Scully said. 

"And what about the ones he only meets for the first time
on live TV?" 

She wasn't fazed. "Set up. People chosen in advance, even
if they don't know it themselves." She smoothly pulled up
near the hedged fountain in front of the house. I just
smiled and said nothing. 

The maid ushered us to Archie's study. Rich decor. Archie
got up from his desk, very courteous and eager to assist
us, gave Scully a hearty handshake and tried to give me
one, but I had my badge out in one hand and files in the
other, so, we just smiled and nodded. So far he was
consistent to what I'd expected from the tapes I'd seen. 

Then, during the interview, something didn't sit right
with me. His demeanour wasn't oozing the confidence and
flamboyance I was expecting - yet in contrast his answers
were smooth and relaxed. 

"The manager of my farm bought that fertiliser on my
order. I'll take you round the property and show you
where it's all being put to use." 

Oh joy, I thought at the prospect. Just give me an orange
jumpsuit and a section of highway, and be done with. 

"I have a substantial property which contains gardens,
greenhouses and the farm, so we do go through a lot. I
thought that a bulk buy would be prudent this time
around; I didn't realise it would cause the government
any panic." 

So he drove us around and we met the manager and checked
out the paperwork and saw conclusive proof that Mr
Aderlee and his workers did indeed have safe purpose for
his large order. Well, as a psychic, I supposed he could
have realised the FBI were about to investigate him, or
used the time since we contacted him to cover up and
dummy up evidence, but the latter was too short a period,
and even I was satisfied by what I saw - which was every
blade of grass on the damn property. Every building, no
matter how small. He let us go wherever we liked. He
really did need heaps and heaps of sh- 

But my spooky-sense was perking up the more time we spent
in his presence. Archie's flamboyance returned, and he
made a point of showing my Moby Dick-loving partner an
intricate pond that featured a sculpture of a whale and
some type of rose that must have been her favourite from
the way she reacted. He was dead-on with her. But he
seemed to be wary of me. And some of the things he said,
which were in the manner of off-the-cuff conversation,
were off. 

For example, we met an employee who was exercising one of
Archie's pet dogs, and when the pooch tried to jump me,
tail wagging, Archie quickly called it back, saying, "Mr
Mulder doesn't like dogs. Go to Agent Scully. But don't
paw her suit." 

Hey, I LIKE dogs. I had several as a kid. 

Then somehow we got around to the question of 'Elvis
Lives' and before I could give my view, Archie put in,
"Lad, you're going to have to accept that he's dead, but
his songs are immortal, if that's any consolation." 

I DO think Elvis is dead. That was just a little joke I
started off on my partner, because how would it look if I
believed in UFOs but not the great Elvis conspiracy? 

Waitaminute. 

Scully. They were things that Scully thought about ME.
She thought I believed Elvis was alive. She thought I
hated dogs because I didn't muster up any enthusiasm over
Queequeg. Hadn't I ever mentioned my boyhood dogs to her?
Though she'd better not ever find out that I didn't like
Queequeg because I was...jealous is too strong a word.
Before that dog came into her life, I could call on
Scully to meet me at the airport at the drop of a file or
drop into her place or go for a joint jog. But then life
altered. Queequeg had to be considered. Kennels, minding,
coming on runs with us, always in the way when I just
wanted to relax at Scully's on non-work. And although I
didn't mind sharing, and was glad that he gave Scully
company, he was constantly yapping and running off... 

And he got all her unguarded moments. He got the Scully I
rarely saw, but wanted to. Was the private Scully
endearingly goofy, always smiling, openly affectionate? 

Anyway, where was I? 

Scully. Archie was only reading Scully. For some reason
he wasn't reading ME. Or couldn't. 

I ended up with a trenchcoat festooned in cobwebs after I
couldn't resist taking a closer look at an old radio
stored in one of the older buildings, so Scully and
Archie helped brush me down. Then I noticed that he
became subdued again. 

I couldn't help asking Archie about his talents. He
appeared to recover slightly, looking impish. "My power
comes from the Lord's Angels, Mr Mulder. Not that I'd
expect *you* to believe that." His look was directed at
me, not Scully. Uh oh. 

"Mr Aderlee, we're not here to discuss or debate
religious beliefs," I said firmly. 

"He always bumps that one off to the side, doesn't he,
love?" Archie asked Scully with sympathy. She gave him a
look, then turned all business again. 

He's playing us off against each other, just for the fun
of it, I realised, and using an issue that was even more
slippery ground for us than aliens - religion. 

I realised how Archie did it...he just had to touch a
person and he would then know everything about the client
up until that point in his/her life. All the memories of
their lost beloved he then knew and could manipulate...
They unwittingly gave him everything he needed to know
and he could then tell them what they wanted to hear and
cash in on it. That's why he was so big on greeting
everyone with a cheery handshake. Or 'accidentally'
brushing his fingers across my neck when ridding me of
cobwebs. 

Also why he had become so subdued after touching us. I
bet he'd never gotten such weird life stories from all
his other clients/victims combined. I wondered what else
he'd come up with and started to get worried. I mean,
just how far did his powers go? Just how long did he have
to touch someone for? But he seemed to be more playful
than vindictive in his knowledge-dropping. And it wasn't
like we were going to charge him about the fertiliser, if
the rest of his property proved to be the same as what
we'd already seen. 

My cell phone interrupted us. I excused myself and
wandered off closer to one of the greenhouses. After a
very interesting conversation with the local sheriff, I
rejoined Scully and Archie, and when Archie stopped to
chat to one of his employees, I whispered my news to my
partner. Her surprise was replaced a second later by a
nod and a look of studied interest in a new section of
garden. 

Fifteen minutes later, just when I was about to pull out
my gun and shoot someone if I had to see one more rustic
field, we were on the last leg of our tour, and had a
pretty good side-on view of the manor house and fountain
down below as we walked back down a hill to Archie's car.
He stopped halfway down and frowned at the sight. Three
police cars were pulling up near our Taurus at the
fountain. He turned to stare at us. 

I said, "That's the local sheriff's department. Can you
read my mind about why they're here? Or would that
require another handshake?" 

"Mulder..." Scully said in gentle warning, as Archie
looked at me in a 'Lad, you do have some smarts' way. 

I continued, "The sheriff knew we were in town to
investigate your order of fertiliser, but one of your ex-
clients just claimed that you've stolen some jewelry off
her mother. There was a witness. The sheriff has a search
warrant with an arrest warrant contingent upon finding
any of the stolen property." 

"And you got the job of detaining me since you were
already here. How lovely." Archie sighed. "It's not like
I've been blowing people up. But I know nothing about any
jewelry." 

In a way I was relieved at this outcome, despite being
interested in Archie's talents. Handing him over to the
sheriff's department would save us a lot of paperwork and
give us a free weekend. 

I gestured for him to keep walking back to his car so we
could drive back to the house and meet the police. Scully
said to me as an aside, "See, Mulder? If he's psychic,
why didn't he see this coming?" 

Archie overheard though, and snorted. He'd had the tour
to concentrate on absorbing what he'd learned from us.
Quite a bit to swallow too. Shuffling. Selecting... 

We were only ten paces further down when he started up.
"Hey, Mulder." 

"Yes, Mr Aderlee?" 

"Wanna know something?" He threw an impish look at
Scully. "Wanna know the last man she kissed?" 

I froze. Scully turned to stare at him, eyes flashing
anger and...alarm? She didn't look at me. Her voice was
complete sternness. "You have enough to deal with at the
moment, sir. Don't waste our time by playing games." 

"Ahhh, but this isn't a game. This is the truth.
Something which you both hold so dear - yet the things
you keep from each other. Shame..." He tut-tutted at
Scully. "You're more honest and open to your priest and
counselor than to him." 

She blinked in surprise, then her calm gaze was back in.
I stared. Counselor? Scully was seeing a counselor? 

Then he turned to me. "And as for you... Wow, I've read a
lot of people in my time, but my God, you're a veritable
minefield, lad!" 

"So don't go stomping in my field. Or hers," I
threatened. 

Scully rolled her eyes. "Mulder, he's kidding. He's just
pulling our leg." 

Okay, Scully, the priest is a fair enough guess because
of the cross you're wearing, but what about the
counselor? Hmmm? 

Archie laughed. "Why should I care for your threats if
the aliens are about to invade or give us cancer or
smallpox?" At this we both froze. "So the government is
in on it? Wowsers...makes me glad I've been -" He
remembered the company he was in and laughed before he
gave anything away. "Makes me glad I've been living life
to the full," he amended. 

"By leeching off vulnerable people with your gift.
Misleading them," I said. 

"You want to talk about how to use information? You two
have all that knowledge...well, what you want to admit
about it anyway -" This with a pointed look at Scully. "-
and you're living such dull existences! You're not even
doing each other!" 

"Mr Aderlee -" I began. 

"Now, as I was saying, the last man she kissed... Full on
the lips, mind you, and not a relation." He was gleeful.
Scully was by this stage looking a little shaky and I was
feeling that way myself. I didn't want to know. Well, I
thought I did know. Mr Ed Bleeping Jerse, most likely. I
know it didn't go any further than that, but I still
didn't want to think about that sterling period of time
in our partnership. Though she hasn't had a date since
then. Neither have I. Or if she has had one, I don't want
to know about it. 

Archie cajoled, "Come on, Mulder, you'll be fascinated!
It was your boss - sorry! - your ex-boss," he corrected.
"Skinner." 

I stared at him. I stared at him and laughed. What a
complete joke. I turned to Scully. 

And stopped laughing. 

She was beet-red and glanced away, even as she stepped
towards me, opening her mouth. "Mulder, it -" That wasn't
a no. Why wasn't it a no? She wasn't refuting his
ridiculous words. Why wouldn't she be? Because... 

She's always been a rotten liar... 

"Skinner?" I croaked. 

"Mulder - it wasn't -" 

I cut her off. I just couldn't get my head around the
concept. Her. HIM. "When?" 

My betrayed gaze made her head dip an inch, which for
Scully was the equivalent of hanging your head - I
thought it was in shame, but it was in embarrassment
about this whole situation, of how the news had been
revealed. "When?" I repeated, louder. 

Archie piped up again. "A few months ago - November. She
initiated it." 

"Shut up!" Scully whirled on him. "Mul-" 

"Why should I?" He was indignant. "You're doing your best
to ruin my business, so why shouldn't I return the
favour. Besides, I wasn't the one who kissed him! Tramp!
And in the FBI building, no less!" 

My brain was in overload. I stared at my partner. "Why on
earth would you kiss him?" 

Arch was on a roll, nearly falling over with glee. "You
wanna answer that one, Dana darlin', or should I pinch-
hit for you?" 

We had reached the car by that stage. Scully gestured for
Archie to give her his keys and to get into the back
seat, which he did, then when he closed the door,
remaining in our sight and close proximity but unable to
hear us, she grabbed me by the elbow. And with every
mounting second before she opened her mouth, my emotions
boiled hotter and hotter. 

"Mulder, it was nothing. The kiss didn't mean anything -" 

"Didn't mean anything? This from the woman who hardly
even touches me unless I'm bleeding or in shock? You
kissed our BOSS - ex or otherwise - ON THE LIPS and
you've never even as much as given me a peck on the
cheek, even at Christmas or on my birthday! Look what it
took for you to kiss me on the forehead. You've never
even MENTIONED that near-kiss in my hallway again."
Anger, humiliation, jealousy and plain old upset fought
in me for dominance. "I told you I loved you and you
walked off... Yet you're open with your emotions to
Ski..." I trailed off as a light went on in my brain. It
was not a very nice light. I felt nauseous. "You love
him... That's why..." How could I be so stupid and blind?
But why did she never -? 

Scully practically yanked on my tie to get my attention
and to bring my face level with hers. For a second I
thought she was going to kiss me to shut me up and 'even
the score' in an attempt to calm me down. That made me
more angry. But then I listened to what she was saying. 

Her voice was desperate. "Mulder, no! It was when you
were lost at sea in the Triangle -" 

When the cat's away, huh? 

"- the Gunmen came to me with the news and I was racing
around to everyone I could think of, trying desperately
to get the satellite info to find you. All I could think
of was finding you, getting that information..." 

"By kissing Skinner? Isn't that taking the Mata Hari bit
a little too far?" 

"I asked Skinner, I asked Kersh, I even asked Spender -
and no, I didn't kiss that weasel! They all turned me
down or backstabbed me, but then Skinner caught up with
me and snuck me the info in an empty elevator. I was so
relieved that I had the means to find you that I kissed
him. I still can't believe I did it! Not that he isn't an
attractive man... I was just so grateful that he'd put
himself on the line for you - us - after he'd been
ordered and threatened to stay away from us. All I could
think of was you. That's the truth. And it wasn't like it
was a no-holds-barred-tongue-everywhere one. Just a quick
thank you." 

I breathed again. 

"And it's not like you've raised the subject of our near-
kiss either." Her smile was amused but her eyes were sad.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "And there's good reason
why I've never given you even as much as a peck on the
cheek. It's so damn close to your mouth. That very
tempting mouth of yours... Just a short hop, step and a
jump away. I couldn't trust myself to stop in no-man's
land." 

"Oh." Relief. Glorious relief. I grinned and let my hand
rest proprietorially on her back in a way that Archie
couldn't see it. She didn't shrug it off. In fact, I
swear she snuggled back into it, in a way that Archie
couldn't see either. Damn, we're GOOD, I exulted. 

"So, you weren't drugged?" she asked. 

"Huh?" 

She was blushing and not looking at me. "When you said
what you said in the hospital. About your feelings for
me." 

"No. I was very lucid." 

"Then we'll continue this conversation tonight." She
looked down the road. "We'd better get Archie back to the
manor." 

I stopped her as she went to move away. I couldn't
resist. "Scully...will I get tongue?" 

She gave a little grin. Her gaze swept right up and down
my body, as if she was mentally sending her mouth out
over every inch, making me shudder with anticipation.
"Oh, you'll get tongue..." 

We went to get into the car, bond not only restored, but
reformed into something much better. "Some psychic, if he
couldn't predict that his little ploy wouldn't work,"
Scully commented, reaching for the door handle to the
driver's seat. 

"Perhaps he wanted to get us together before
colonisation. But I don't think he can see the future -
just people's pasts." I got into the back with Archie,
who looked at us as Scully adjusted the driver's seat and
we set off. He chewed his lip and contemplated me. I felt
panic and tried to make my mind a blank - which was
pointless because he'd already read me anyway, and I just
knew he was sifting through the debris of my mind,
looking for the stick of dynamite with the biggest boom
factor. So much from which to choose... 

The last person I'd kissed? Who on earth WAS the last
person I'd... Or would he haul Kristen into this? Damn. 

Actually, the last person I had kissed WAS Scully. The
1939 Scully. If Archie told my partner that, perhaps
she'd believe me about the whole time travel thing! But
at least she now believed me about the declaration of
love. 

Archie waited for an optimum time; I'll give him that. He
made me sweat all through the drive. Scully found a place
to park next to one of the police cars and we were about
to get out, when... 

"Hey, Scully. Got one for ya! Remember that night you
dumped all the blame on Mulder for your cancer and stuff
in the warehouse -" 

Ooooooh no. No. No. No! Not that. Stick to kissing,
PLEASE. 

"Well, he went home after that and put his gun to his
head. He was gonna do it too. But suddenly the phone
rang. He hoped it was you. But it wasn't. If it wasn't
for that call, it really would have been his body you
ID'd next morning. How's that make you feel, Red?" 


XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX



A deputy came up and took charge of Archie, who was
grinning in satisfaction. Scully kept staring at him as
he was led off, her arms slack at her sides, face a
deadly blank. 

"Tell me that's a lie." She kept staring at Archie as she
spoke. 

"Scully -" 

Another deputy came up and we had to go into professional
mode. He said that there was a lawyer at the county
sheriff's department who wondered if she could get a ride
with us back to FBI Headquarters. She had come to the
department with a colleague this morning, but the other
lawyer had some sort of semi-emergency and he had to
drive back to D.C. sooner than expected while she kept
going with their work. 

We agreed to take her. After a brief discussion - in
which I tried to warn them about touching Archie and was
basically laughed off - there was nothing left for us to
do at Archie's fair manor, so Scully immediately went to
our Taurus and got into the driver's seat. Her gaze
didn't even go near me as I joined her. The exhilaration
of ten minutes ago was completely shattered. 

I could feel Archie's grin gleaming at us as we left. It
was a long and silent trip back to the sheriff's
department. We killed time while waiting for the lawyer
to join us by getting our report ready for Kersh. It was
a relief to bury ourselves in routine and to be
surrounded by other people so I could postpone talking
about the bombshell as well as finding out Scully's
thoughts on the matter. To anyone else, we were a totally
professional team as we worked. No hint of a problem. But
they had no idea, and there was no light in Scully's eyes
when she looked at me. No depth in her voice. 

News came that the search was turning up a number of
interesting finds, including the missing jewelry. Turns
out that Archie had gone to the house of a Mrs Irene
Cooper to conduct a seance to contact the spirit of her
father. Irene's senile mother lived with her, and Archie
had touched the old woman and discovered where she had
hidden some of her valuable jewelry which she had then
completely forgotten about. The perfect robbery. 

So Archie made sure he would be holding the seance in the
right room and asked for privacy while he set up and
cleansed the area in preparation for the spirits. Irene's
young daughter had been told to go outside to play so
that Mr Aderlee could concentrate - so naturally the kid
wanted to know what was going on. She looked through a
window and saw the man find Grannie's pretty necklaces,
and eventually she told Mommy. Good kid. 

Our involvement with Archie was over. He hadn't said
anything more to us when brought in - he didn't need to
touch us again to know that he'd succeeded in his
revenge. So Scully and I were finally and temporarily
alone in a hallway as we waited for the lawyer to gather
her things in one of the rooms before catching her ride
with us. 

Ever since Archie revealed my secret, I had been
struggling to find the right words to say. But when I
opened my mouth and said, "Scully -" I was no closer to
the perfect speech. 

She rounded on me. In coldly furious and measured tones,
she bit out, "Don't you dare say anything to me. You got
all furious about one little kiss, and yet there you
were, about to kill yourself and leave me to die alone
and guilt-ridden? You selfish bastard!" 

Her hand shot out. The blow to my face wasn't a slap and
it wasn't a punch - more of a hybrid of the two. Every
time I get close to Scully, there seems to be pain
involved for one or both of us - cancer, near-drowning, a
punch from 1939, a bee sting, a bullet graze, mouth to
mouth required... But I accepted the blow as something I
deserved. 

She lapsed back into silence, ignoring me as other
personnel wandered in and out of the fairly quiet
corridor. When the lawyer joined us, we left to drive (or
crawl) through rush-hour traffic to HQ. Scully maintained
her silence throughout, apart from when the lawyer asked
her something. I was glad to have the woman there as a
buffer. Well, more like a siege wall to hide behind. 

At HQ Scully and I had to wait and wait to present our
report to Kersh. We should have been just allowed to turn
our report in and go, then meet with him only if he
wanted to question anything. However, after my little
spot of sightseeing thanks to Mr Crump, Kersh insisted
that we also personally provide a verbal report to him
after every investigation. Our new boss seemed to work
even longer hours than Skinner, and I'm sure he took
delight in making us sit around in his outer office. He
would have taken even more delight if he could read our
minds. He wanted us to give up and quit - I expected
Scully to turn that wish into a reality at any moment. 

Kersh's secretary kept giving me the eye. It used to be
little looks, but now she's so damn bold I could sue for
harassment. It was like she was undressing me and knew
exactly where she wanted to put what. I tried to ignore
her. Scully's expression went even colder. 

Finally, Kersh deigned to see us in the inner sanctum. We
duly reported on our case - Aderlee and his employees
were not building any bombs, but he wouldn't be
presenting any more TV specials. Kersh nodded, gave us a
searching look as if he knew (or hoped) something was up,
then dismissed us. It was nearly midnight... 

Out in the bullpen I made a call to the county sheriff to
again warn him not to let anyone touch Archie without
gloves on, and hoped that I was getting the message
through at last. I think they were certainly more willing
to listen to me, because the sheriff told me that Archie
had tried to blackmail a married deputy because he found
out the man was having an affair with one of the station
secretaries... 

While I was tied to the phone, Scully went to her desk,
gathered up her bag and coat, and left. Not a look, not a
wave. 

The last thing I wanted to do was go home - I didn't want
to rush after Scully either. Not just yet. I knew she
wasn't in the mood to listen, and I certainly wasn't in
the mood to talk. I didn't want to go home to the place
where I'd nearly splattered my own brains over the
carpet. Where I'd been secretly surveilled for months. I
couldn't even comprehend how I could keep living there. 

I just wanted... 

I'd gotten a taxi to work that morning, so I left the
Hoover Building and just walked aimlessly and thought.
Eventually I decided I had to go somewhere and hailed a
passing cab and gave the guy the address which was the
closest equivalent I had to 'going home to mother'. 

Buzz. Buzz. Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. BUZZZ. 

"All right! All right, already, Mulder! Geez..." 

There was the sound of seven locks unclicking, then
Frohike's bleary face was peering at me. "This had better
be a stop-the-press scoop for this hour of the morn, G-
man..." 

I brushed past him into the Lone Gunmen office. Byers'
tousled head appeared in the dim light of their 'bedroom'
doorway. "What is it, Mulder? What do you need? I don't
think I can see straight to do any hacking right now..." 

"What've you found?" Langly yawned. 

I didn't have any energy left to explain. I just dumped
my suit jacket and tie and holstered gun on one of the
desk chairs, went past them into the bedroom -
'crashroom' really - and kicked my shoes off before
thudding face-down on the vacant couch. A death dive. 

"Ohhh, wife trouble," Frohike said sagely. 

I half-heartedly gave him a backwards finger and burrowed
deeper into the upholstery, clinging to a cushion. Langly
had started off that nickname - never in front of Scully,
of course. I found it amusing, but kept warning them that
one day it was going to slip out when they were speaking
to her, and something of theirs would be quickly divorced
from their bodies. 

"Wonder what he's done this time?" Byers said quietly,
but didn't probe. 

I heard them turning lights off and checking the door and
settling down again. "G'night, Mulder." 

"Night," I replied quietly. 

I didn't think I'd sleep - especially with the snoring
going on - but when I woke up it was light. 

I found I'd nearly wedged myself right into the gap
between the couch and the cushions, as if I was trying to
tunnel into it and disappear from the world. 

I wondered if Scully had gone around to my apartment last
night, or tried to call - my cellular was out in my suit
jacket pocket. I felt guilty about avoiding her. But I
still had no idea what to tell her to make everything
right again. 

I turned over and looked at the camp beds. They were all
empty. And, not surprisingly, unmade. I got up and rubbed
at my face. Careful to avoid tripping over my shoes, I
went out into the office. Frohike and Langly were in
there at their computer consoles, listlessly playing a
game of Doom. They heard me emerge and turned to look. 

And they knew. 

I didn't know for sure how they'd found out, but the
looks on their faces gave it away. That I had actually
gone that far. They had probably assumed before this that
perhaps I'd considered the act in my darker periods. Now
they knew and they didn't know how to act towards me.
Frohike's eyes were darting back and forth from me to his
trademark fingerless gloves, which he was fiddling with.
Langly was just staring at me as if I was wandering
around with a bullet wound to the head. "Um...hi... We-we
let you sleep in..." 

I looked at them, then looked at the door to the
kitchenette. It was closed. That was rare - they're
usually wandering in and out to snack. I headed towards
it. Frohike made a protesting noise that choked in his
throat. I stopped at the door and heard voices through
the wood. 

"You didn't have any idea? He never mentioned it to you?"
Scully was asking. 

Byers' voice was hesitant, reluctant. "We knew he was
taking it all pretty hard. And, to be honest, if you
had...died...we wouldn't have been surprised if he
followed you." 

"And you would have let him?" Her voice was half-angry,
half-upset. 

"It might have been the kinder thing to do. But we never
thought he'd do it until you were actually dead." 

I turned away from the door and went back past the other
Gunmen and into the crashroom and sat down. I took a deep
breath, then reached for my shoes. Sorry for not behaving
to schedule, guys. Sorry for being selfish. Sorry for not
wanting to hang around to watch her wither away and die
from something that was my fault, something I thought I
couldn't save her from. Sorry for hearing her in my head,
over and over, telling me that I was the reason she'd
been given the cancer. 

I was finishing the final lace-up when I felt a presence
in the doorway. I looked up. Scully. "I'll take you home
when you're ready," she said quietly, watching me with
concern. 

I nodded. She stepped back out into the office. How long
had she been here, I wondered, and who called whom about
me? She looked tired. Again, guilt surfaced. I'd managed
some sleep last night, but I'd taken hers away. I stood
up and ran a hand through my hair. My jaw hurt. I really
didn't want to face everyone and their awkwardness or
anger or pity or goddamn whatever. I'd thought that no
one would ever know what I almost did back then. That
night the guy in the apartment above me who had been
spying on me died in our struggle, and I then destroyed
the video of me crying and holding the gun to my head.
Now my closest friends knew, and I didn't want to face
them. But I had to if I wanted to get out of there. After
tucking my wrinkled shirt in more and being glad it was
Saturday, out I went. 

Scully was waiting by the chair that held my stuff. I
focused on the chair as I went through that room,
deliberately making the Gunmen peripheral. "Thanks for
the bed, guys." I grabbed my suit jacket and tie. Scully
handed me my gun, as if making a show of faith.
Interesting. "Catch you later." 

We left. In her car, I leaned back in the seat and closed
my eyes. It may have been a cowardly way to stave off a
conversation, but I felt so drained and not ready, plus
I've never thought that moving cars were a good place for
serious discussion. She apparently agreed with me, or was
at least biding her time. I felt relieved that she wasn't
radiating anger this morning. 

Eventually we got to my place. We entered my apartment
and I went to the kitchen to get some juice. I drained
half a litre. Then I slowly went into the living room,
where Scully was sitting on the couch. 

"Was it in here?" I could barely hear her voice. 

"Huh?" 

"Were you going to do it in here?" 

I realised what she meant. "Yeah. There." 

She released a deep breath. "Oh God." She stared down at
the rug under the coffee table - the spot where I'd left
the spy's body. "I - I'm sorry for the way I reacted,
Mulder. Telling you off then walking away from you last
night was just repeating the problem. It certainly
wouldn't help you any. The stage you must have reached to
feel like that, to do that..." 

"It was a year ago, Scully." I tried to make it sound
like it was over. Forgotten. Nothing to be concerned
about. I sat down at the other end of the couch. 

"So you haven't thought about doing it since then? Since
I was cured?" 

Damn. I was hoping she wouldn't ask that. She'll over-
react, I know she will. "I..." 

"Tell me. Tell me the truth or I'll go and ask Archie!" 

"I've considered it a few times since then." Why did I
have to admit that? Because I'm not a good liar either.
"But nowhere near the way I was on that night." 

She was stunned, and not reassured. "But why after? I was
cured - you found the cure for me..." 

"I also found a lot more when I was searching for it..." 

She remembered what I had told her. "The fake alien
bodies. The evidence that the Pentagon is in on it. You
stopped believing. I know you got your faith back in the
Antarctic... But when did you actually go to do...?" The
questions poured out. "Why didn't you call me...? You
felt like this for over a whole year? Do you still feel
that way?" I didn't respond. She pressed on. "Mulder,
when was the next time after I was cured? When?" 

"I...I sorta had a few thoughts in the weeks just
afterwards - I mean, I was so happy you were alive, but
after what I saw in the Pentagon, and having my whole
belief system shattered... I didn't pick the gun up
though. It wasn't until just after New Year last year
when I came the closest since. After we got back from San
Diego." 

"But -" She had this 'if anyone should have felt
suicidal, it should have been ME' look, but didn't know
how to express it. 

Suddenly I felt angry. "Excuse me for feeling
responsible," I said sarcastically. 

She fumbled for words. "I don't blame you for what
happened. I'm sorry if I sounded like I did in the
warehouse or at any other time, or if by not saying
anything that I've given that impression." She fiddled
with the corner of a cushion. "Do you still feel like
killing yourself? Have you since Antarctica?" 

What could I say? "Last year, just when things seem to be
going along okay and I began to relax, something else
would happen to you... After your 'oh brother', I kind of
wished I'd been left in the sea. Just for a second." I
could say that without fear that I would be guilting her
into saying she loved me, because she'd more or less told
me on Archie's verandah. 

"When else?" 

"Linda Bowman. And after the FBI meeting after returning
from Antarctica when no one would believe me..."
Especially you. "Just thoughts. No actions," I stressed.
"Perhaps a brief hope that the next nice mutant or killer
would take the dilemma out of my hands. Then it would
pass." I really needed another drink. My mouth was so dry
and my head was aching. 

"Mulder, you have got to get help for this." 

"Help?" I laughed. "If word of this ever got back to the
FBI, it'd be just what they need to get rid of me."
Fortunately it didn't seem like the spy had time to
report what he'd seen to his superiors before I burst in
on him. "Besides, how would I know which counselor to
trust? I have a feeling you haven't gone into all the
details with yours." 

"You're right," she admitted. "I don't go into specifics.
Otherwise she'd be in danger too. But it's a help, even
if it is in general terms. Mulder, just because I do talk
to someone else...don't feel like you've let me down or
that I don't feel that I can talk to you. I know you're
there, but sometimes I need to discuss us, or things,
with an unbiased third party. That's all. I still need
you and want to be with you." 

That was a relief. She began talking about whether I'd
consider trying Doctor Werber again - for talk, not
regression - and that she would understand me talking to
a third party. Not really interested in seeking help when
I didn't think it was necessary, I was only half-
listening, my mind musing over why Archie had picked that
particular instance to reveal - there were certainly
plenty of other choices that could have caused an uproar.
Perhaps the warehouse one because he knew it would make
Scully extra angry that I was abandoning her at such a
time of need. And that it would have a watershed effect. 

"Mulder? Mulder!" 

I snapped back to attention. "Sorry." 

She rubbed at her forehead, her feelings building up
again. "I'm angry at you and myself for this. You don't
think your death would hurt me?" 

"Not as much as everything else that's happened to you." 

She looked like she wanted to hit me again. "Then you're
a very poor judge of my character, Agent Mulder. And of
your importance in my life." 

I actually shook at the tone of her voice. And the
implications as they sank in. 

The steel in her voice became profound sadness. "So, what
stopped you the other times? Would you have pulled the
trigger if you didn't get that phone call?" 

"I honestly don't know. I think so. The other
times...most were just half-thoughts, gone a moment after
forming...I guess I stopped because I didn't want it to
have to be you to ID me, or I lost heart -" 

"No! *Gained* the heart not to! Don't give me that 'it
takes courage to pull the trigger' crap!" 

"I guess...it was always in my mind how much it would
hurt you if I did it, but that night after you told me
about the cancer in the warehouse, the thought of
watching you die..." I quickly changed lanes. "Occasional
thoughts of suicide are common in stressful situations.
We've certainly had our share of them. I'm not depressed,
Scully, really. It's just been quite a couple of years...
I haven't been that far down in the pit since that night
- I swear." 

"Just knowing you came that close is bad enough for me." 

"Did you ever take your gun and consider it yourself?
During the cancer and everything else that your abduction
and that damn chip have set off?" I nearly laughed at the
irony of asking this of a reformed Catholic. 

"With the cancer... No - I was dying and I didn't feel
the need to quicken that. No. Not even in the treatments.
I've felt a lot of things, a lot of feelings, but not
that solution. I guess my faith and my near-death
experience helped me with that. I didn't want to leave my
loved ones behind. When I first found that I had cancer,
I was prepared to face death soon, but then I decided to
fight." 

I smiled at her fondly. "You've always been the stronger
one." 

"And where do you think I get that strength from?" 

"You've always had it. It's you. It's your faith." 

"Faith comes in many forms, and we can still draw from
it, Mulder. It comes represented in a cross and it comes
in you. Even when I didn't believe so much in the cross,
there was always you. There still is." 

Now that was a laugh. "And what is there in me to believe
in? Little grey men?" 

"One very special man. I didn't realise for a long time
how much I rely on you and your drive. Even when you
stopped believing. It's our drive now; we share it. What
we both had has merged, and they can't defeat it, no
matter what they do. Please take some of it back off me
and let's work this out so that the next time you feel
like reaching for your gun for non-FBI use, you ring me
before the thought is even half-formed. I love you, Fox
Mulder, and losing you in the line of duty would be bad
enough. I don't want to lose you by your own hand." 

She had moved very close to me, but was holding back,
waiting for a sign from me. I reached over to squeeze her
hand. She pulled me into a hug and we held for a long
time. 

"Will you get help? I'll go with you. I'll be there." She
sounded like she was crying, or on the verge of it. 

"Will you let me be there for you then?" I countered. I
felt a twinge of anger at her pushing me to confront this
particular demon, but it was quickly gone, replaced by an
overwhelming affection. She had to love me, to put up
with all I'd thrown at her over the years and to still
care about how I felt and if I lived or died... 

Her "Yes" came swiftly and with certainty. She shifted
back a little in our embrace and held up our joined
hands. She held mine tightly. "This is how I was holding
onto you in the hospital when I was dying. You stood up
to go and I clung to you, remember?" 

How could I forget? Having to move away when it was the
last thing I wanted to do, almost prising her fingers out
of my flesh, wondering if she'd survive until I next saw
her, wondering if I could do anything to save her...it
was like gnawing my arm off. 

"I didn't want you to leave me," she continued, choked
up. "That WAS death. I didn't want to lose you or your
strength. It's the same now. Only this time I'm asking
you; please don't leave me. Even if you don't go to
anyone else, talk to me. Let's talk more with each
other." 

I swallowed around a heavy lump in my throat. "I'll think
about the getting help bit, but I promise I'll talk with
you. Always, from now on." And I meant it. 

Scully took my face in her hands and gazed at me. Then
her lips found mine. They were all I was aware of; a
pulse beating in their warmth and softness. It was even
better than kissing her 1939 counterpart. She still made
me feel lost in time. There was no tongue, but that
didn't matter. There was love and there was faith and
that was more than enough to start with. 

THE END.