From: Pam Gamble <eksphyl@yahoo.com> Date: Mon, 17 Aug 1998 15:49:15 -0700 (PDT) Subject: Indiscreet Part 1 Indiscreet Part 1 of 3 by Pam Gamble eksphyl@yahoo.com RATING: NC-17 SUMMARY: Sequel to Enough. Mulder and Scully are together, but discreet (hence the title!); until something happens to Scully that threatens her life and their relationship. NOTE: You should probably read Enough first, so you'll know what's going on at the beginning. CATEGORY: MSR, XA, loads of Mulderangst DISCLAIMER: Are you kidding? If they belonged to me they'd have had sex by now! ARCHIVE: Sure. Fine. Whatever. This one is dedicated to Laurie, who asked for it! In your eyes I see the doorway To a thousand churches The resolution To all the fruitless searches. -"In Your Eyes" Peter Gabriel 10:41 a.m. "So you'll let me know as soon as you know something, right?" Exasperated, Scully crossed the dingy hotel room to stand in front of her partner. As usual, she had to look up at him to look him in the eye. "Yes, Mulder. As soon as I know. Trust me." She was fumbling with the clasp of her necklace, and her partner took her shoulders and turned her around. He finally snapped it into place, and turned her back to face him. Mulder opened his mouth to say something, then abruptly changed his mind and began to stalk around the room. "So you'll call me later?" "Mulder, that's the fourth time you've asked me the same question." She rubbed her hand over her face. "Just let me do my job and you do yours." "Sorry, Scully." He stopped pacing and braced himself against the wall. "I just, just don't want you to..." He sighed. "I want you to tell me the truth, not what you think I want to hear." Scully's eyes shone with laughter. "Mulder, when have I *ever* in five years told you *anything* because it was what you wanted to hear?" Mulder lowered his head. Turning to her, he smiled. "Guess no one could accuse you of being my yes-man, huh?" Scully shook her head. As she lifted her briefcase off the dresser, she asked, "So why would this be any different?" Shifting his weight, he nodded toward the still unmade bed. "I guess I thought...since we...you might..." Scully once again walked up to her partner, reaching up to pull his face down to hers. "Mulder," she smiled but her tone was serious. "Just because I enjoy using your ass for recreational purposes doesn't mean I'd be afraid to kick it if you got out of line." She kissed him quickly then turned toward the door. As she reached for the doorknob, she turned. "Good sex doesn't take away a woman's backbone, Mulder." " *Good* sex?" She sensed his anxiety. Knew he was trying to stall her from where they both knew she needed to go. She smiled at him. "Amazing sex. Goodbye, Mulder." He nodded at her, then sat down to wait for the sheriff's car which was coming to pick him up. Since he'd slept with his partner, he found he only needed her more. She'd already been such an integral part of his life, and now she was an intimate one, too. He found himself wanting her to stay until his car arrived, wanting her to go with him. Even though he knew she had her own appointments to keep. <I am so pathetic.> He didn't want to smother her, but he didn't know how to keep from being, well... <clingy> <That's what I am, clingy.> But he didn't know how to stop wanting her. And he didn't know how to stop needing her. He wasn't sure he could turn it on and off the way she seemed to be able to. And he was afraid that if he couldn't figure out a way to control it, his neediness would consume them both. A knock at the door interrupted Mulder's little pity party. He quickly glanced in the mirror. "Yep, still *look* like a big, macho, professional, gun-totin, G-Man," he said quietly to his reflection. Looking down at the dresser, he noticed Scully's hairbrush, and felt his heart melt at the thought of her. He looked up at his reflection again. "You are soooo pathetic." 2:07 p.m. Office of the County Medical Examiner Scully placed the photos and notes in her briefcase, then thanked the medical examiner for his cooperation. He was very gracious, and she was vaguely aware that he was flirting with her. She smiled dismissively and walked outside. Stepping out of the building, Scully put on her sunglasses and then pulled her cell phone from her pocket. She pressed the number one, wondering vaguely how her mother would feel about being number two on her daughter's speed-dial. <What she doesn't know won't hurt her> After two rings, Scully heard the familiar voice in her ear. "Yeah?" "Mulder, it's me." "So what have we got?" "Two plane tickets home, Mulder." He exhaled loudly. "Okay." "I'm sorry." "No, it's okay." She sensed he couldn't really talk. Only she could read the vulnerability in his guarded tone. "I'll meet you at the airport with the bags, alright?" "Sure." "Mulder?" "Yeah." "We'll find her." "Thanks, Scully." The line went dead, and Scully called information to get the number for the airline. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX On the plane ride home, the two agents had been assigned seats in separate rows. After some initial protests and pouting from Mulder, Scully finally convinced him to just get on the damn plane. She had only been seated for five minutes when Mulder came back and whispered something to the older man beside her. The man listened for a second, then turned to smile at Scully as he vacated the seat. Mulder sat down, stretching out in his seat. Scully stared at him, bewildered. "Mulder, what did you say to him?" "That you had a rare communicable disease and were highly contagious." Scully folded her arms in disgust and looked away. "You didn't," she looked back at him, trying to catch his eye. The smile appeared in his eyes before it crept down to his mouth. "No, I didn't. I told him that I thought you were very beautiful and that I just wanted to sit next to you for a couple of hours." He shrugged. "See if I could get lucky." She covered her eyes with her hand. "Mulder, what am I going to do with you?" "I have some suggestions." The stewardess was explaining how to use your seat cushion as a flotation device. Scully was positive she could recite this speech word-for-word she'd heard it so many times. "Are you okay?" Mulder nodded. Scully rested her hand over his. "No, I mean *really*." He nodded again. "I'm relieved that her life didn't end that way." He ran a hand through his hair. "It was a longshot." Scully drew his chin around so that he faced her. "So were we." She felt her heart constrict as he gave her that smile, the one he saved just for her. "I'm really okay." He leaned forward to kiss her, then pulled back abruptly. "We need to talk about this." Now Scully was afraid her heart would stop altogether. Was he having second thoughts? What was she, a conquest? "How, um, public do you think we can be?" He twined his fingers through hers, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand. "Oh," she said with obvious relief. She leaned back in her chair to think for a moment, still very much aware of the touch of his hand. "I think," she said slowly, "we should be okay as long as we keep it out of the office." She turned to him. His eyes were full of doubt. "You don't think they'll do something to separate us?" Scully thought for a second. "Mulder, they've already tried that so many times. I don't think they are as concerned with the *degree* of our relationship, just at its existence. Honestly, I think if they are going to do something, they'll attack both of us together." "Scully, you're such a romantic," he deadpanned. "But we should probably be...discreet. At least for a while." "Discreet. I can do that," he nodded. He then proceeded to nail her to the seat with his tongue, cutting off her oxygen for a full thirty seconds. Gasping for air, she looked into his best lecherous grin. "Discreet," he said, "starting..." he checked his watch, "now". He plucked the airline magazine from the pocket before him and settled back to read. Beside him his partner was still sucking for air. She stared at him. He was doing his best to appear nonchalant. <Don't start things you can't finish, Spooky.> Scully trailed her hand up the inside of his thigh. Leaning over she breathed into his ear, "Or we could start when we get back to D.C." He looked up just in time to see her lick her lips. <Oh, God> His entire body stood at attention at that one little movement. "I..." he croaked. "No, you're right." She sat back in the seat, a smug smile on her face. "Better safe than sorry." Whipping out her glasses, she pulled out a notepad and began making notes to herself. Mulder let out a long sigh. He wasn't sure right now whether to kiss her or throttle her. What he was sure of, though, was that he had something to take care of, with or without her. Scully stifled a laugh as her partner rose awkwardly and made his way to the restroom. <Poor guy. That wasn't very nice, Dana.> Mulder was just unzipping his pants when he heard a knock at the door. <Read the sign, moron> "It's occupied." Being an atheist he couldn't really compare her voice with the angels in heaven, but right now... "Honey, you forgot your pills," Scully stage-whispered through the locked door. The door opened slightly and she stepped inside, oblivious to the stares of the few passengers who were paying them any attention. <I'll never see these people again, anyway> She locked the door and turned to him. Mulder's expression was priceless. She laughed in spite of herself. Sheepishly, he looked down. Pants around his ankles, erection tenting his boxers. "Well, I would have dressed but I wasn't expecting company." In the tiny cubicle, Scully did something to Mulder that good little Catholic girls were never taught to do on their knees. When she exited the bathroom, Scully casually strolled back to her seat. Mulder exited a moment later with a wide, relaxed grin on his face. Making his way down the narrow aisle, he felt a hand grab his arm. He looked down into the rapt face of the man he'd switched seats with. "Buddy, you work fast." Watching from her seat, Scully was well into turning her sixth shade of red when Mulder returned. He chuckled at the look on her face. Resigned, Scully sighed. "Five years. I waited five years and a total stranger now thinks I'm a slut." Mulder wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "No, he doesn't. That's our little secret." "So much for discretion," she muttered, throwing an arm over his chest. Leaning against his shoulder, she closed her eyes. Mulder reclined his seat (a whopping 5 inches) and closed his eyes, too. "Hey, Scully." "Hmmmm..." "Know anybody who'd want some slightly used videos?" Scully raised one eyebrow over her closed eyes. <How does she *do* that?> "They don't bother me, if that's what you're asking." Mulder looked down at her, wide-eyed in amazement. "Dana." She opened her eyes. "Nothing I've ever seen on those tapes can do what you just did to me." Scully blushed, then closed her eyes again. "I never understood what you saw in those things anyway." Mulder stroked her cheek and pulled her closer to him. "Neither do I." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Through some amazing airline phenomena, none of the bags which had swirled around the luggage carousel for the last twenty minutes seemed to belong to anyone on their flight. Tired of waiting, Scully had picked up a copy of Time at the newsstand. She chatted with the clerk for a moment, then sat down in a chair in the broad hallway near the payphones. Mulder's method of passing the time was to chew sunflower seeds and pace in a semi-circle around Scully. She tried not to notice the track he was wearing in the linoleum. Not looking up, she commented, "Mulder, you're making me dizzy. Why don't you just piss in a circle around me to mark your territory and get it over with?" To his credit, Mulder feigned ignorance. He looked around as if just noticing for the first time that day that there were other men on the planet. "I don't know what you're talking about, Scully." "Like hell," she muttered. But amusement crept into her tone, mostly at herself for knowing him so well. Mulder settled down on the vinyl chair beside her. "Besides," he drawled, "I have a gun. Much classier than pissing in a circle." Scully chuckled in spite of herself. She laid the magazine in her lap and looked over at him. "Murder-or castration?" she asked lightly. Mulder folded his arms and answered in a smug voice. "I'm a fair man. They can choose." "Not much of a choice. Not too many men I know would want to live without their manhood." "Nah, Scully. Frohike has managed for all these years." He smiled. Scully rolled up her magazine and whacked him on the arm. "I'm going to tell him you said that." "He probably already knows. Didn't I tell you my boxers actually contain a listening device?" Scully smiled. "Oh, is *that* what that is? And I thought you were just happy to see me." Mulder turned to look at her then. "Always," he said seriously. Funny how their conversations hadn't really changed. They'd always been full of sexual innuendo. But now they had to put up or shut up. Or put out. Whatever. He could still make her blush. But it wasn't always from discomfort anymore. She met his gaze. "I know." She felt that in some ways he was still trying to prove himself to her, to quell the doubts she'd expressed last night <Jesus, was that last night?> She couldn't seem to find a way to reassure him. She wanted him to be as sure of her as she now was of him. She just couldn't find the right words. Finally exiting the terminal with their bags the two walked to a waiting cab. Scully started to direct the driver to her house, but Mulder nudged her. "Actually, could you show us the monuments? We heard they're really pretty at night." He leaned into Scully's ear. "Discretion starts tomorrow." While our country's great alabaster memorials slid by the windows, Mulder and Scully found some points of interest that definitely weren't in the guidebook. Finally dropping Scully off, he watched her work the lock, then turn to smile at him. He grinned, and settled back for his ride home. The cabbie, wide-eyed but silent to this point, now laughed and turned to his passenger. "You the lucky man, yes?" he said in broken English. Mulder smiled. "My friend, you have *absolutely* no idea." Rajid went back to the dispatcher that night with a 50-dollar tip. And a story to tell. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Work wasn't as hard as they'd thought it would be. Neither of them would have felt comfortable pawing each other in the elevator. And they were always aware of the possibility of surveillance, so during the day things were business as usual in the basement. But the nights... Mornings were the worst. Early mornings. 5:30a.m. Scully residence The mechanical beeping startled Mulder awake, and his hand flailed in the air, mercifully hitting the snooze button. Letting his eyes become accustomed to the darkness, he squinted back over his shoulder. In the pale light that filtered through the blinds, he could see her sleeping face. She was smiling. Part of him hated to wake her, but he couldn't leave without saying goodbye. <You are *so* whipped.> Pushing her hair from her face, he spoke in a gentle voice. "Scully? Scully...I have to go now." Scully moaned a protest and swung her arm out to capture his body in her grasp. Her eyes blinked open and she stared at his face through a sleepy haze. "Mmm, don't..." Mulder couldn't resist kissing her lips. Her mouth tried desperately to follow him as he pulled away. "I have to," he said softly. "I know," she mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep. "I hate this." Her hand ran up and down his thigh. "I just never seem to get enough of you." Mulder smiled. "I know the feeling." He stood and dressed, staring longingly at her body adorned in the white sheet. "Think you could wear that into the office?" Scully's eyes closed again and she smiled, mumbling something incoherent into the pillow. "What?" he asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed to tie his sneakers. "I said," she popped up over his shoulder, "only if it will get you to do more paperwork." Mulder turned to kiss her again, his hands running over her face. "I don't work well when I'm distracted." Scully let her hands run down his sweats, running her fingers between his legs. With an innocent pout, she asked, "Do I distract you, Agent Mulder?" Nearly speechless with desire, Mulder shook his head. "Scully, I have to go." Scully fell back on the bed, and listened to him call a cab. She sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "I feel like we're having an affair." "Not quite what you expected?" he asked nervously. Scully turned to look at him. "I'm a big girl. We knew what we were getting into." "Doesn't make it any easier," he said from the doorway of her bedroom. "I'll see you at work." Scully rolled over on her stomach. <Not what I expected> She had long ago given up the Cinderella dreams. The games she used to play with Melissa. One of them would be the princess and they would force Charlie to be the prince. So he would wear the aluminum foil crown and get down on one knee and put the plastic slipper on Melissa's foot. Dana hadn't enjoyed the game that much-she'd rather have been out playing army men with Bill. But once he'd reached the age where she was just a "stupid little sister", he didn't have time or patience for her anymore. In a way it was a good thing; she and Melissa had developed a closeness they would share until her death. But it also showed Scully the ways they were different. Melissa fully believed that one day her knight in shining armor would whisk her away. She grinned at the thought of Mulder in armor. No, it wasn't quite what she'd expected. Her whole life wasn't exactly what she'd expected. Screw fairy tales. Hell, she cut up dead bodies for a living-how glamourous was that? She couldn't remember any fairy tale where the prince came upon the princess kneeling in the forest, elbow deep in someone's thoracic cavity. <Jesus, Dana, don't start writing children's books anytime soon.> She smiled to herself. Realizing she wasn't going back to sleep, she got out of bed and headed toward the shower. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Their lives fell into an odd sort of routine. They worked, they went home, snuck over to each other's homes, checked for bugs, had dinner, rented a movie, and went to sleep. They had decided not to risk going out. Sometimes they brought work home with them, but mostly they kept their personal lives personal. They talked. Now that Mulder realized that he couldn't *always* read her mind, he wanted to know her opinion on everything. And except for the fact that they never went out and were being targeted by a shadow government conspiracy, their lives felt fairly normal. That should have been their first warning. From: Pam Gamble <eksphyl@yahoo.com> Date: Tue, 11 Aug 1998 16:10:57 -0700 (PDT) Subject: Indiscreet Part 2 Indiscreet Part 2 by Pam Gamble See Part 1 for disclaimers Sometimes Mulder still couldn't believe this was all happening. That this woman could love him so much with all his faults. He kept waiting for her to come to his senses. To realize that she could do so much better. To tell him that nothing he could do could make up for the way he'd treated her before. But she stayed. She had even helped him clean his apartment one weekend, and if that wasn't love, he didn't know what was. True to his word, he really had disposed of all his videos. When she'd asked him, he told her he'd taken them to the gunmen's office. "Frohike practically cried." She'd lifted her eyebrows. "From happiness?" "Uh, no," he'd stammered. "He, kind of, figured, I wouldn't be giving them to him unless..." "Oh." She pursed her lips. " So the guys know," she stated. "Yeah." He looked down at the floor. "You okay with that?" She nodded. "But you don't think they'll do anything perverted with all their surveillance equipment, do you?" Mulder's head flew up, his eyes open wide. "Aw, shit." She had laughed in exasperation as Mulder had trashed the apartment they'd just cleaned, searching for bugs and cameras. They'd fallen asleep that night curled up on his couch. But tonight, they were at Scully's place. And all hell was about to break loose. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Mulder felt the mattress shift as she got out of the bed. He lazily watched her walk into the bathroom, squinting as she turned on the light. He'd almost gone back to sleep, when he heard the sound of drawers being pulled open. "Scully?" He sat up. She was getting dressed. "Scully-what the hell? It's," he glanced at her clock. "Almost 4 in the morning." She pulled on a pair of slacks. "I have to go." Mulder clicked on the bedside lamp. "Go where?" She didn't answer him. "Scully-go where? Did I do something?" She pulled the shirt over her head and he noticed the blank look in her eyes. He got up out of the bed, and shook her gently. <Maybe she's sleepwalking> "Scully, can you hear me? *Answer* me, Dana!!" His voice was tense now. She wasn't responding to him at all. He may as well not have even been in the room. "I have to go," she repeated dully. Mulder shook her, harder this time. She worked her way from his grasp, and crossed the room to put on her shoes. Mulder grabbed her shoulders, turning her to him. He forced her face up to look at his. Her eyes didn't focus. "Scully!" he shouted. His hand dragged through her hair, landing on the back of her neck. The back of her neck. It was so hot. He felt her forehead. Cool. "Shit." The implant. The bridge. The bodies. "I have to go," she stated firmly in that monotone that was now giving him chills. "No, Scully. Dammit, listen to me! You can't go anywhere, Scully!" She was trying to get away from him with a vaguely confused look on her face. Then her head jerked up, and she reached for her gun on the dresser. With a quick sweep of his arm, he knocked the weapon off into the floor. He was trying not to hurt her, but could already see th beginnings of bruises on her arms. He reached for her cuffs, and had one around her wrist, when her leg swept out to knock him off his feet. He landed with a heavy thud against the dresser. "I have to go." Ignoring the throbbing pain in his skull, he launched himself from the floor to tackle her ankles. Her shoe crunched down on his face, and he cried out, still blindly reaching for her. Rolling over on the floor, his eyes lit on her gun still laying on the floor. A thousand arguments flew through his head at once. <I can't shoot her> <If I don't, she'll die> <If I do, she might die> <I don't know where> She was picking up her car keys in the living room now. Reluctantly he abandoned the gun. <I just can't shoot her. Even to save her life> It wasn't a big revelation. He'd always known she was stronger than he was. His one advantage was that she really didn't seem to be aware of his presence unless he was touching her. As she walked down the hallway to her front door, Mulder leaped on her, shoving her up against the wall. Pinning her by the throat with one arm, his free hand fumbled for the cuff still dangling from her wrist. Quickly he clipped it around the radiator in the hall. He backed away from her, and she once again moved toward the door. Her breath was raspy, and he worried he'd injured her windpipe. The cuffs clanked against the metal of the radiator and she desperately pulled at her hand, trying to free herself. Mulder backed up to the wall, and slid down to the floor. He reached up to feel a tear running down his face. "Oh, Scully." She was pulling as hard as she could against the cuffs. He could see her wrist beginning to chafe already. "I have to go." Her hand flew to the back of her neck and she cried out in pain. "Scully," he whispered, resting his head on his knees. "What have they done to you?" Fiercely tugging at her restraints, she changed tactics and pressed her feet against the wall, trying to push her body away. Tears streamed down his face. When she'd had cancer, she had been so determined to live. And now, she seemed so determined to die. <No>, he thought, <someone *else* was so determined to see her die.> Reluctantly, Mulder got to his feet. He was limping, had a pounding headache, and he would have one hell of a black eye in the morning. But she would *not* leave this apartment. Returning to the bedroom, he picked up her gun from the floor, automatically checking to see that it was loaded. <Shoot her, Mulder. She shot you. I read it in her file. NO!> He couldn't do it. But to save her life--not to end it. Maybe then, he could. He hesitated for a moment, but the thought of all those bodies burned beyond recognition removed any doubt from his mind. Checking quickly to see that she was still involved in a futile attempt to remove herself from the cuffs, he grabbed her car keys and threw them under the bed. At least if she did get away, she'd have to walk. He looked down at the gun in his hand. He didn't plan on letting her get as far as the car. Positioning himself at the end of the hallway, he clicked the safety off. "Scully, can you hear me?" She didn't respond. "I love you, Scully. I don't want to hurt you. Please hear me." He began to think she was going to break her wrist. "Let her go!!" he screamed in rage. Taking a deep breath, he began to try and decide where he would shoot her if he had to. She had shot him in the shoulder. In her condition he wasn't even sure a bullet *would* stop her. He had to hit her in the legs, so she couldn't walk. Lower leg. Avoid the femoral artery. Mulder slammed his fist into the wall. He knew that if at any time in the future his dedication to killing these assholes waivered, he would think of this moment. His beautiful, amazing, brilliant partner trying desperately to wander off to certain death, while he sat half-naked in the hallway trying to figure out the optimal location to put a bullet into her incredible body. He could see blood dripping from her wrist now. She grunted with the exertion of trying to escape. Then she stopped. Mulder watched in horror as she moaned, clawing at her neck. Her nails left bloody red scratches in their wake as she slumped to the floor. Her eyes rolled back in her head. Then she fell limply against the wall, and her eyes closed. "I have to go," she muttered. "Scully?" Nothing. "Scully?" He was afraid to touch her, knowing he could only protect her from a distance right now. But he wanted to. Frustration built up within him and he punched his fist through the wall. Mulder added 'possibly broken hand' to his running inventory of injuries. She hadn't moved in a while, but he wasn't taking any chances. He would not take off the cuffs until she was cognizant. She could just sleep there. Anything was better than her dying with the others... <The others> Mulder walked quickly to the phone, dialing the A.D. at home. Skinner answered the phone as though he hadn't been asleep. Mulder quickly explained the situation, telling Skinner to expect another cult suicide in the morning. The words were barely out of his mouth when he realized what he'd done. What they may have given up. To save the others. "Agent Mulder, what were *you* doing there at 4am?" Mulder was silent. He wouldn't insult this man by lying. Skinner sighed. "Do you have any idea where she was going?" "No." "I'll put the word out, but I'm not sure there is anything we can do at this point." "Yes, sir." There was a long pause. <He's going to separate us. We've been so careful. This isn't fair> "Agent Mulder, do you remember what I told you at the Senate hearing after you returned from Russia?" The line went dead. Mulder thought for a moment, then smiled. <If you explain it to me, I'll have to explain it to them> Skinner wasn't going to say anything. As long as they were careful. With a sigh of relief he returned to his post in the hallway. He'd almost lost her. But now they had one less thing to worry about. From: Pam Gamble <eksphyl@yahoo.com> Date: Tue, 11 Aug 1998 16:04:32 -0700 (PDT) Subject: Indiscreet Part 3 Indiscreet Part 3 by Pam Gamble See Part 1 for disclaimers My sincere apologies to the Foo Fighters for kind of ripping off their song. 6am She was cold. Mulder must have taken all the blankets. She reached over, but found she couldn't move her hand. Her eyes opened slowly and her head scratched up against the...wall? She looked down at her hand. Pain shot through her arm as she moved it. <I am handcuffed.> She glanced around. <To my own radiator.> Her free hand rose to her throat. It was sore, like someone had been choking her. Then the finger-shaped bruises on her arm caught her eye. She looked at the other arm. <Yep, it matches.> Had she walked in on someone in this-condition-her first thought would have been 'rough sex'. She searched her memory, but was reasonably sure she hadn't had *any* kind of sex last night. And when had she put on these clothes? And where was Mulder? <Oh God is he hurt is he dead did someone break in why don't I remember?> "Mulder!" "Scully?" The voice had come from behind her. She twisted on the floor. Her partner sat in the floor, bleary-eyed, wearing only his boxers. Holding her gun. <Curiouser and curiouser> "Must have been some party. Sorry I missed it." He looked at her hesitantly. "You can hear me?" <Bizarre. My life is bizarre.> "Of course I can hear you Mulder," she spoke slowly. "Did you sleep last night?" She moved toward him but remembered the handcuffs. "Ow. Can you...?" She jerked her head toward the captive wrist. Mulder stood, sort of. She was afraid he was going to fall over. He seemed to be limping. He disappeared into the bedroom and came back with the key. Kneeling beside her, he inserted the key and twisted. Scully was rubbing her wrist when she was suddenly enveloped in her partner's arms. He crushed her to him and she felt hot tears dripping onto her skin. He rocked her back and forth like a child. She heard the gun clatter to the floor. She looked up at his face, and ran her fingers over the purple bruise on his forehead. "What happened to you?" He kissed her eyes. "Oh, Scullly." His lips moved down to kiss the sore place on her neck. His hands moved to the bruises on her arms. "Oh, Scully. I am so sorry." He looked in her eyes. "I didn't want to hurt you. I tried not to." Scully swallowed hard. "*You* did this to me?" she asked, disbelieving. He nodded. "You don't remember." It was a statement, not a question. She shook her head slowly, eyes wide. "No, but I think you need to tell me." He got to his feet, pulling her with him. "I'll get dressed. Can you make some coffee? I'm going to need it." Confused, Scully wandered into her kitchen. She quickly bandaged her wrist, then joined Mulder on the sofa. She handed him a cold washcloth for his eye, and waited for him to speak. "They called you again. Like that time in Pennsylvania." Scully felt the blood drain from her face. "You got out of bed, got dressed. You couldn't hear me. I don't think you saw me. It was like I was invisible." He took a long gulp of coffee. He was relating the facts like a witness to a crime, she thought absently. There was a faraway look in his eyes, and she knew he was watching it all again. "I tried to stop you. You were sort of, defending yourself." He rubbed the bruise on his head. Realization was dawning on her. "I did that?" He nodded. "I think you were going to shoot me. Not me, really, just anything or anyone who tried to stop you. You kept saying, "I have to go." He looked at her. "Do you remember any of this?" She shook her head. "I was talking to you?" He nodded again. "You were talking, but not really to me. Like I said, you didn't seem to know I was there. I kind of tackled you and cuffed you to the radiator." His long fingers wrapped around her wrist. His lips twisted into a grimace. "You tried so hard to get away from me." His eyes filled with tears. He couldn't look at her when he said it. "I was afraid...I was ready," he said more firmly, "to shoot you. To keep you from going." Scully ran a finger over the bruise on his head. "I did this to you," she said quietly. He nodded again. "Yes." She saw the intense pain in his eyes and could only imagine what his delicate psyche had been through last night. "And *I* did this." He kissed her neck. "And this." He kissed the bruises on her arms. "And I am so, so sorry." He dropped his head into his hands. Scully lifted his face to her own, kissing him fiercely on the lips. Then she gently shook his shoulders. "Mulder, you saved my life. My God, you don't have anything to be sorry for." He reached around her waist and pulled her into him, resting his head on her shoulder. "I know you worry about putting me in danger," she whispered into his ear. "You think that I can't be with you and be safe." He sat up and searched her eyes. "But if you hadn't been here, I would probably be dead now," she said quietly. He shuddered. "You've never said that before." "What?" She was confused. "That you need me." She reached to touch his face. *That* was what he needed to hear. She'd probably known it all along, but it felt like too much of a weakness to admit it. "Of course I need you. I always have. Especially when we're like this. But you can't always be there, and we definitely couldn't do our jobs if I couldn't take care of myself." "Which you can," he winced as he rubbed his shin. Scully's phone rang loudly on the endtable beside them. "Scully." "Agent Scully." "Yes, sir?" "I need to speak with Agent Mulder." "Mulder?" Her eyes widened. "He's..." "I know he's there, Agent Scully." There was a pause. "How are you feeling?" he asked gruffly. "I...fine." Her mouth was still hanging open as she handed the receiver to Mulder. After a brief conversation he hung up. "They didn't find them in time." Scully knew immediately what he meant. "How many?" "Hundred and four. All of them. No survivors this time." He reached for her but she got to her feet and crossed the room. Scully leaned back against the door, arms crossed in front of her. She spoke slowly, carefully. "If you had let me go, you could have followed me..." "And you would be dead now," he said through gritted teeth. "You could have seen them, seen what they were doing." She kept her voice even. "No," he shook his head violently. "No." He stood up. "You are not a human sacrifice, Dana." "What about what you're sacrificing, Mulder?" She wasn't angry. But she needed to hear him say this. "Don't you want to know what they're doing? Don't you want to know who they are?" He braced himself. "Of course I want to know. But trying to stop them by myself last night could have gotten you killed." He crossed the room to stand in front of her. "There was a time when I would have died for this. To know." He took her by the arms gently. "I risked my life and my job everyday. But I have too much to live for now." His words were forceful, deliberate. "And I will *not* risk you." She turned her face up to his. "We will find them, and we will stop them," he promised. "But what if I got all the answers to everything I wanted to know, and I was alone? Again?" He stroked her hair. "I can't be without you, Scully. I don't remember how." He stared into her eyes for a long time, then turned his back to her. "Skinner wants us at the site. They were in Georgia this time. I told him no." "Why?" He whirled around. "You want to go." She hesitated. "No. But I think we should." Irritation flashed across his face. "There are plenty of other agents who can handle this, Scully." She nodded. "First of all, we said we wouldn't let our personal lives interfere with our work. And second, it could have been me. I think we owe it to the victims to bring these people to justice. You can understand that, can't you?" His face relaxed and he nodded. "And we need to do everything we can to stop them. Before they do it again." He held her tightly and she savored the warmth of his body. "We have to go," she said quietly. We. And to Mulder, that one word made all the difference. They walked into the bedroom together and began to dress for work. Scully noticed that Mulder seemed to be fumbling with his buttons, and for the first time got a good look at his swollen right hand. "Oh my God! Mulder! What happened to your hand! Did I do that?" He shook his head. "I got mad and took it out on your wall. Don't..." He bit his lip as Scully prodded. "I don't think it's broken. Why didn't you say anything?" He just shook his head. "I can bandage it and give you something for the pain, but you need to have it looked at when we get back." "Okay." He sat still as she wrapped his hand in gauze, rendering it even more useless. Mulder tried to finish dressing but his clumsy efforts were getting him nowhere fast. He didn't even have the energy for crude comments as she helped him button up his shirt and zip his pants. When she got down on one knee to help put his shoes on, she stopped suddenly and laughed. "What?" "Nothing. I was just thinking of a game Melissa and I used to play when we were little." She blushed. "It doesn't matter now." "Oh." Maybe happily ever after was too much to hope for, considering all she'd been through, thought Scully. But they had each other. And they had right now. And maybe all knights don't wear armor. Maybe some of them wear suits with loud ties and need reading glasses and believe that Elvis is still alive. And maybe some princesses *did* cut up dead bodies for a living and pack heat and know self-defense. <Maybe I *will* write a children's book> "Ready?" he asked, limping to the door. "Right behind you." She checked to see that her makeup job had covered the worst of her bruises. She stepped outside as Mulder was slamming the trunk of the cab closed. He hurried over to the door, and, with his good hand, opened it for her. "Your carriage awaits, your highness." Scully looked at him, startled. <How did he...?> He gave her a knowing grin. "I had a little sister, too, Scully." It was the first time he'd really smiled all morning. As he followed her into the backseat of the cab, he crossed his arms. "But I am *not* wearing an aluminum foil crown, so you can just forget it." The end. 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