TITLE:	ALL MULDER'S WOMEN
AUTHOR:	DONNILEE
E-MAIL:	DONNILEE@SNET.NET
WEB SITE:	http://www.donnilee.tripod.com
CATEGORY:	MSR
RATING:	17+
SPOILERS:	Fire, Three (3), Syzgeny, War of the Copraphages, Rain King, All 
Things, Lazarus, Never Again, Milagro, Triangle, Fight the Future.
SUMMARY:	Scully overhears Mulder making plans for a dinner date and has a bad 
reaction.  Mrs. Scully convinces her to reveal her feelings before there aren't 
any more "tomorrows".
DEDICATION:    This one just came to me out of the blue.  And I think I'm going 
to dedicate this one to my husband who puts up with my obsessions and makes sure 
he tells me everyday that he loves me ... often winking and saying, "Just in 
case you forgot."  Love you too, honey.
THANKS:  	As always, so many thanks to my beta reader, Sdani for her thorough 
reading and her willingness to tell me when I've written something really 
stupid!  She calls me on my grammar, my inconsistencies and things that just 
don't work.  Love you, darling.

PART 1 (PG)
HOOVER BUILDING
BASEMENT OFFICE
WEDNESDAY - 1:30 PM

If I'd known what was going to set her off and break down that final wall, I 
would have done it a long time ago.

The problem is that it wasn't something I wanted to do.  You, see, I was in love 
with my partner.  Not one of my more brilliant moves, not that I had any choice 
in the matter.

But I loved her and therefore, no one else ever really seemed attractive to me.  
Oh sure, I'd had my occasional slips with a woman here and there.  Generally 
these were precipitated by long bouts of loneliness and depression.  When the 
ache of being alone became too great, I would have a slip.  Sometimes I was 
drunk.  Other times, the opportunity merely presented itself and depending on my 
state of mind at the moment, I would take advantage of it.

I mean, let's face it, everybody needs somebody once in a while.  Isn't that a 
song? I thought.  In any case, I thought everybody needed somebody, except for 
my partner. 

She was the quintessential professional with all her proverbial ducks in a row.  
She was efficient, independent, brilliant and methodical.  There were things she 
didn't like about her life, sure.  But she never seemed to complain, or rarely.  
And if she did, it was usually concerning a family member.  I never heard her 
say one word about needing someone, or wanting someone in her life.

I had no idea if Scully was no-nonsense in her personal relationships, the way 
she seemed to be with me, or if she was a hidden romantic.  People thought she 
was cold because they didn't take the time to look past the intelligence and 
slightly compulsive orderly behavior.  I suspected for a long time that there 
was a very passionate woman inside Scully just screaming to get out.

Over the last six years, I'd gotten glimpses of her past.  Jack Willis, Daniel 
Waterson.  And then there was what I sarcastically referred to as the 
'Philadelphia Experiment'.  Ed Jerse was a bad decision that nearly got her 
killed.  I often wondered what it was that made Scully gravitate towards the men 
she seemed to have cavorted with in the past.  Jack Willis was an older, 
established agent.  Daniel Waterson was an older, established professor.  I 
sensed a pattern there.  

But then there was Ed Jerse and he didn't fit the pattern.  He was a wild 
impulse that resulted in an Oroborus tattoo.  Scully ... with a tattoo.   The 
two words were virtually mutually exclusive.  It was an oxymoron.  I just 
couldn't imagine it.  Of course, I'd seen it since and my mouth had literally 
watered.  I'd wanted to touch it so badly I thought I was going to scream.

But then there was that weird brouhaha with Philip Padgett, writing her story 
and digging deep into the romantic mind of Dana Scully, recognizing and 
acknowledging her beauty and her suppression of it.  He was a psychopath but I 
had to give him this.  He'd seen the romantic in Scully, the desire and passion 
that wanted an outlet.  My heart had clutched as I read his words, wondering how 
accurate they were.

His cryptic statement, "Agent Scully is already in love," had stuck with me with 
infuriating stickiness.  She hadn't denied it, so I could only assume that he 
was correct.  Then again she may not have wanted to dignify it with an answer.  
But if she was ... with whom?  Was it me?  Could I possibly be that lucky?

She hadn't dated anyone in a long time now.  We had become closer, more intimate 
friends.  She touched me more and her lingering touches unwittingly set my blood 
on fire.  She smiled more and her face had softened and become more beautiful 
with the years, not less.  Scully was aging well, as they say.  Her fresh-faced 
innocence was gone along with her freckles.  But they were replaced with a 
determined woman with classic beauty and flawless skin.  And her hair was always 
beautiful, always had been.  She had a terrible haircut for the first few years 
we were together, but along with her maturity came better decisions about 
fashion, makeup and hair styles.  

Now she cut a dashing figure, one that turned heads of the male gender, and some 
of the women's as well!  And yet, she seemed totally oblivious to her effect on 
people.  I'd never met a beautiful woman that didn't know she was beautiful.  It 
was an amazing thing to me.  In addition, she did absolutely nothing to enhance 
her beauty.  She didn't flaunt it.  She wore severely cut suits, modest blouses 
and a very chic haircut.  But there was no hiding her beauty.

Her blue eyes were like sparkling water when she was happy, like a night sky 
when she was sad, and like a turbulent flame when she was angry.  I could be a 
total sod.  Sometimes I loved to see Scully angry.  Not because I liked to make 
her angry, but because I liked to SEE Scully angry.  Since I'd never had the 
privilege of seeing her aroused, I figured this was the next best thing, the 
closest look.

Her chest would heave, pink color would suffuse her neck and her cheeks would 
redden.  Her eyes would snap with liquid fire and her mouth was usually open.  
Her mouth.  That was another source of unending fascination for me.  Her full, 
pouty lips that stayed full when she smiled, pursed when she was thinking and 
got licked when she was nervous.  I had many fantasies about that mouth.

So what was the good of all these musings?  Nothing, they were merely 
observations of a besotted man who was too chicken to tell the woman he loved 
that she was his everything.

I'd tried.  Lord knows I'd tried, but all my signals had been deflected or 
ignored.  She ignored most of my innuendo or flung it back airily.  She refused 
to believe my declaration of love after being pulled from the Bermuda Triangle, 
choosing instead to believe it was a doped up, sophomoric cry for attention.

She seemed to believe me when I told her that she was my constant and my 
touchstone.  She seemed to believe me when I told her that I couldn't do this 
without her anymore.  She seemed as though she was going to allow the kiss that 
I had wanted so badly to give her.  I couldn't express in mere words what I felt 
for her.

I had finally decided that I would do everything I could to keep her with me and 
that included showing her how I felt, physically if necessary.  Then the damn 
bee stung her and my whole world was ripped out from underneath my feet.  What 
is it about us and our timing?

I know she cares for me, but how much?  I kissed her at the dawn of the 
Millennium.  It was a lame, closed lipped kiss, but so tender and sweet that my 
heart had ached from it.  But considering the state of my shoulder, there wasn't 
a lot I could do to pursue the matter.

And as usually happened, a few days and a little distance, and she had either 
forgotten all about it or chose to pretend it never happened.  How long, I 
wondered, could I endure having my heart broken by this woman?

I was horribly lonely.  I made no bones about that.  She seemed to understand 
when I called her in the middle of the night merely to hear her voice.  I would 
be craving human contact.  Scully had become essential to me, like air.  She 
kept my thinly tied together sanity intact.  She kept me from self-flagellation 
and self- destructiveness.  Without her, I was a reckless driver out of control, 
mowing down everything in my path in a futile attempt to find meaning in my 
life.

Somehow, over the years, she had become my meaning in life.  My entire existence 
was filtered through Scully.  Without her, I was completely lost and couldn't 
function with any amount of normalcy.

Climbing into bed with that vampire chick was the first mistake.  Talk about 
self-destructive.  Here was a woman who was involved with a killer, probably a 
mythical vampire who will kill me on sight.  So what do I do?  I fuck her, 
hoping to feel something and then to go out in a blaze of glory, removing myself 
from life so that I wouldn't have to deal anymore with the misery and pain of 
being without Scully.   Duane Barry had kidnapped my life and I came as close as 
I have ever come to committing willful suicide.

Then there was Phoebe.  Was a cluster fuck that was.  She was one sadistic 
bitch.  I mean, she knew about my fear of fire and led me straight into it, 
using what she thought was my investigative skills and off center perception to 
save her lover, the Senator.  She convinced me to do this like she had convinced 
me to do everything else; she fucked with my head and tried to fuck with my 
body.

Thank God for Scully again.  I was so busy following my dick; I almost got us 
all killed.  I literally didn't know the building was on fire!  How pathetic was 
that.

Then we move on to Diana, whom I'm not sure I can even explain.  Yes, we had a 
past relationship, yes, she used to be my partner, yes, and she had broken my 
heart.  No, I didn't know where she had been.  No, I didn't know what she had 
been doing and no, I didn't know who she was anymore.  But in my infinite 
stupidity, I really thought she was on my side and wanted to help the X-Files 
and me.  Diana was another green-eyed monster rearing her head because she liked 
control and that was the only way she knew how to get it.

Scully seemed to view my collisions with the opposite sex with confusion and 
mild amusement, but never jealousy.  Little did I know.  There was a wealth of 
information below the surface of that woman, and for years I had skated along, 
thinking I knew her well, when in fact, I didn't know diddly.  

So it all started when Byers gave me a call.  He wanted to take this girl out to 
dinner that he'd met in the grocery store.  She didn't know him at all and had 
consented only with the condition that they go on a double date and her friend 
be allowed to come along.

Now he was desperate to find a date for the girlfriend, whom he promised was not 
a dog.  He'd seen her picture and then met her and dinner was scheduled for 
Friday night.  It was a Wednesday.

After protesting and suggesting other people, he gently reminded me that it 
would be cruel thing to subject this nice, young woman to Frohike or Langly.  
And besides, he needed someone that owned something other than a tee shirt to 
wear and could carry on an intelligent conversation.  After all, he wanted this 
woman to think he had intelligent friends.  And he added that my being an FBI 
agent would probably impress her.  He wasn't asking me to get married, for 
Christ's sake, he'd said.  He just wanted me to tag along for dinner so he could 
make his first impression on this woman.  Her name was Brenda.  Her friend's 
name was Camille.  She was 35, brunette and buxom with green eyes.  On and on he 
went.

I'd decided it really couldn't hurt.  I wasn't starting anything with the woman 
and Byers said she knew that, she was merely coming as a safety net for her 
friend because Byers was virtually unknown to her and she was just being 
cautious.  She didn't want to be a third wheel, however.

All this over-explanation went on for some time until I finally relented.  He 
had called me at the office.  Scully walked in on the tail end of the 
conversation, just as I was saying. "All right, we'll go out to dinner.  What 
should I wear?  Friday night, right.  I'll be there."

Scully had stopped dead in her tracks and looked at me as she returned from 
lunch.  She turned away quickly and strode to her desk but not before I saw a 
look of shock on her face, and something else that I couldn't identify.  I rang 
off with Byers and turned to her.

"So what did the lab have to say, Scully?"

She cleared her throat, looking up at me as though she was surprised to hear me 
talking to her.  "Uh, they have a positive match on the carpet fibers for Jean 
Claude's apartment.  We don't know if he's the perpetrator but the victim was 
definitely in his apartment before she was dumped out by the lake."

She turned back to her computer and manipulated the mouse.  I heard the bell 
that indicated she was downloading her e-mail.  We sat in silence, while I 
looked over the file.  Finally I said, "Do they have any of this written up, 
Scully?"

She hesitated again, looking upset.  "No, they will fax it tomorrow.   Patty 
told me in person.  I'll check with her tomorrow if we don't get it by 10:00 
AM."

"O.K.," I replied, not being able to think of anything to say.

The next couple of hours went by with dogged slowness as I heard her alternately 
sigh, cross and uncross her legs, cluck her tongue and chew a pencil to shreds.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.  "Scully, what's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing's wrong, Mulder.  What makes you think anything is wrong?"

"Could be the out of character behavior you're displaying this afternoon," I 
said with levity and not a little facetiousness.

She turned to me and said, "What the hell are you talking about?  I'm checking 
my e-mail, responding to requests and finishing up typing my report on our 
fruitless stake out yesterday.  What are you doing?  Besides bugging me with 
inane questions, that is," she ended testily.

I couldn't hide the hurt on my face apparently, because as I turned away 
mumbling, "Sorry, geez," she turned back to me again and sighed.

"I'm sorry, Mulder."

"Forget it," I said curtly, not knowing why I was being such an ass.  I was 
always unreasonably upset when Scully brushed me off or pushed me away.  Fact 
was, I often asked questions that were none of my business.  That wasn't the 
case this time though.

"I'm tired and a little out of sorts, Mulder.  That's all.  I'm fine."

The dreaded phrase, 'I'm fine.'

"I've seen you tired and out of sorts before and don't chew up pencils like you 
haven't had a meal in days, fidget in your chair and sigh like you are disgusted 
every two minutes."  I paused.  "But mostly, you don't fidget."

That got me a raised eyebrow and then a smile.  "What makes you think I don't 
fidget, Mulder?"

"Oh, maybe ... six years of working with you side by side."

She shook her head, acting amused.  "I'm uncomfortable in this suit," she lied.

I just stared at her.  It was a simple navy suit with skirt and matching jacket, 
a white blouse and navy pumps.  Nothing unusual, and I'd seen it on her a 
million times.  

I swallowed and asked softly, "Why are you lying to me?"

It was a little lie, but a lie nonetheless.  She wasn't telling me she didn't 
want to talk about it, she was saying that I was imagining things and nothing 
was bothering her.  And I knew her clothing comfort was not the problem.  That 
was one of the lamer responses I'd ever heard from her. 

She huffed indignantly and said, "You know what, Mulder?  Maybe I do have 
something on my mind.  And maybe, just maybe, I don't want to talk about it."

We held each other's gaze for a moment.  I was hurt but decided to let it go.  I 
didn't want to fight with her.  "I'm sorry, Scully."  I paused.  "Whatever it is 
... I'm here if you need me.  I'm your friend and ... and I'm here," I finished 
lamely.

She smiled softly.  "I know you are, Mulder.  Not this time though.  I need to 
work this out for myself."

I nodded and tried to lighten things up again.  "Well, it's not like you don't 
know where to find me.  I have no life."

She coughed behind her hand and muttered, "I hadn't thought so," or something 
like that.

"What was that, Scully?"

She looked at me as if startled that she had said something out loud.  
"Nothing!" she said a little too quickly.  I caught a flash of fear on her face 
and felt concern wash over me.  Scully wasn't afraid of much, but something was 
going on here.

I raised my eyebrows at her.  "Scully ..."

"Mulder, don't."

"I don't want to fight with you, Scully.   But you're worrying me.  Why are you 
afraid to talk to me?"

"I'm not afraid."

Very softly, I asked, "You're not ill are you?"

She shook her head but it wasn't very convincing.  "Are you sure?  Just reassure 
me that you're well physically."  I lived in fear of her cancer making another 
grand entrance.

She smiled tightly and said, "I'm fine physically."

I nodded. "Good."

Finally, it was time to go home and I didn't feel like staying late and enduring 
any more of Scully's silence, so I packed up and said good night and left at 
5:00 PM on the nose.

I wished she would talk to me and tell me what was bothering her.  I hated it 
when she pulled away from me like this.  It always scared me.  I knew it was 
self-centered, but I always feared that she was thinking about leaving me.  I 
feared that she had found someone to share her life with and I would be pushed 
out.  But I tried hard to remember what she told me after the Philadelphia 
Experiment. 

Not everything was about me.

Ain't that a bitch?



PART 2 (PG)
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN, D.C.
WEDNESDAY - 6:00 PM

The traffic was a bear.  I'd finally made it home and stripped out of my suit 
and practically crawled into the shower.  As I washed away the day's grit I felt 
overwhelming sadness envelop me.

Who was Mulder taking to dinner?  Who had he been talking to?  Questions and 
scenarios had wafted through my mind all afternoon, distracting me and leaving 
me unable to concentrate.

Being the astute pain that he could be, Mulder picked up on my disquiet and 
called me on it.  What was I going to say?  'Gee, Mulder, I'm dying over here 
from curiosity and I can't stand the idea that you are going out on a date'?

Yeah, I'm sure that would go over well.  I don't own him or anything.  He can do 
what he wants, right?  He doesn't owe me any explanations.  And despite his 
protestations to the contrary, he obviously does have a life if he's going out 
on a date.  I, on the other hand, really do not have a life.  I haven't been out 
on a date in over four years and the last one almost got me killed.

I can pick them.  I specialize in cheating husbands, arrogant older men and 
psychopaths.  My track record is just stellar.  I knew what my problem was.  I 
just didn't have a clue how to go about fixing it.

I was in love with my partner.  

I don't know when it happened or why it happened, but one day I realized that I 
was in love with him and couldn't live without him.  I realized he had become an 
essential part of my life and things were just pointless without him.  

I'd had all the arguments with myself about why I shouldn't love my partner.  He 
was arrogant, self-centered, obsessive ... brilliant, compassionate, kooky, with 
a great sense of humor.  See where those thoughts always led?

I'd had all the arguments with myself about how I should be satisfied with what 
we had and not want more.  I should be happy with our working relationship.  I 
should be happy with our friendship.  I should be happy with the occasional 
touches and hugs.  

But none of those arguments held any water when I was faced with the very real 
prospect of losing him.  I had come to think at some point that we had an 
unspoken agreement.  It was silly, I knew, but I'd thought that we wouldn't date 
others.  We knew the risks of getting involved romantically and had silently 
agreed not to ruin what we had, but to not let others into our lives either.

I don't know why I thought this.  Maybe I just wanted to.  Because it was what I 
had decided.  In reality, I had no idea what he had decided.  I knew he was 
lonely.  I knew he was an extremely tactile person and that it hurt him when I 
pulled away.  If I wasn't willing to step over the line, how long could I expect 
him to wait?  Was he supposed to never have another intimate relationship on my 
account?  That wasn't very fair.  I knew he cared for me.  But how much?

Not as much as I cared for him, obviously ...or he wouldn't be going out on a 
date.  At that thought, I felt the sadness come again in another wave and the 
tears stung my eyes.  I let them fall, crying silently and letting the hot water 
wash them away.  I stayed in the shower until my crying jag was over.  Then I 
got out and hastily toweled off, wrapping my hair and pulling on my sweatpants 
and tee shirt.

I wandered into the kitchen and proceeded to heat up some soup.  

The phone rang and I gritted my teeth.  I didn't want to talk to him yet.  I 
needed some distance to gather up my emotional armor again.  I sighed and 
finally reached for it.  You never knew when it might be an emergency.

Before I knew I was going to say anything, I picked up the phone and said, 
"Look, I don't want to talk about it, all right?  Can you just leave it alone 
for now?"

There was a pause and then, "Dana, honey?"

"Mom!" I exclaimed in surprise.  Oh shit.  I'd assumed it was Mulder calling to 
check on me.  See?  I was doing it again, thinking his life should revolve 
around me the way mine did around his.  Now my mother was going to be all over 
me like dogs on a meat wagon.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Mom.  I thought you were someone else."

"Obviously.  And obviously something is wrong if someone is pestering you to 
talk to them."

I sighed.  "Did you hear that part about leaving it alone, Mom?"

"Did you think I was Fox?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Did you and Fox have another fight, honey?"

"No, Mom."

"Are you sick?"

"No, Mom."

"Tell me what's wrong, Dana."

"You're really not getting that 'leave it alone, I don't want to talk about it 
part', are you?!" I cried again.

She was silent for a few moments. I could feel her hurt feelings even across the 
telephone line.  Finally she said, "Fine, suffer in silence, child, like you 
always do."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Heaven forbid you should share part of your life with your mother.  What the 
heck do you think I'm going to do, take out an ad in the paper and share it with 
the whole world?  I might be able to help, you know?  Did you ever think of 
that?"

"Mom," I didn't know what to say.  I didn't want to hurt her feelings.

"Did you ever think that maybe if I could help you out once in a while, I might 
feel like I still mattered in your life and was a part of it?"

"Of course you matter to me, Mom!  I love you.  You know that.  It's just ..."

"It's just that you think you have to the Rock of Gibraltar.  Well, I got new 
for you, honey.  Nobody is.  We all need to talk about our troubles sometimes."

"I didn't know you felt that way," I said softly.

She was silent.  "Not all the time, but sometimes.  You are so wrapped up in 
your job and in Fox that I hardly ever see you anymore.  I don't resent you 
having a job you love or a man you love, but a mother likes to think that she 
can still be of use to her kids, even after they are grown and gone."

"Wha ... what did you say?"

"Which part?" she asked, totally oblivious to the fact that she'd just said I 
was in love with Mulder like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You said ... a job and a man ... "

"Man you love?" she asked, trying to clarify.

"Yeah, why did you say that?"

She laughed gently.  "What do you mean?"

"I MEAN, why did you say that?"

"You mean, 'a man you love'?"

"Yes!" I said, getting exasperated.

She was silent a moment and then she said.  "Oh my God."

"What?"

"You don't ... you're not ..."

"Spit it out, Mom."

"Dana, are you upset over Fox?"

"Answer the question, Mom."

"What was the question?"

Aaarrrggg!  I silently gritted my teeth.  "Why did you say ... a man you're in 
love with?"

"I didn't.  I said ... a man you love."

"Oh."

"But I meant ... a man you're IN LOVE with."

"Why did you say it?  You still haven't answered my question."

"I'll answer yours if you'll answer mine," she said, a slight tease in her 
voice.

"Oh brother.  All right!"

"I said it ... because it's true, that's all."

"Why would you think I was in love with Mulder?"

She laughed.  She actually laughed.  "Because you are, that's all."

"Mom!"

"Don't tell me you're denying it?" she asked gently.

I was silent, trying to think of something to say.

"I thought so," she concluded.  "So what's the big deal?  I know kids grow up, 
move away, fall in love and move on with their lives.  All I'm saying is I want 
to be in touch with you more regularly, that's all.  Especially since losing 
Melissa, I feel a need to be closer to you than before."  She went on, once 
again, totally unaware of the import of what she had said.

Now I know my mother has an innate perceptiveness that others just don't seem to 
have.  But to have her blurt it out like it's something she's known for years 
was disconcerting.  If it was that obvious to her, was it obvious to others?

It certainly wasn't obvious to Mulder.  Then again, he could be completely 
oblivious to a lot of things.  All these things ran through my mind and my 
mother ... was still talking.
 
"So Bill's going to come into town in about two weeks.  That's what I originally 
called for before we got sidetracked.  And I wanted to know if you wanted to 
come to dinner next Friday.  Not this one, next one.  It would be nice to have 
you both here."

"Sure, Mom, next Friday," I said quietly.

"O.K., now you're turn."

"My turn for what?  To invite you over?"

She harrumphed.  "No, Dana!  Tell me what's bothering you.  You said you'd 
answer my question."

"You didn't give me much of an answer."

"That's not my problem that the answer was short.  Now ... out with it.  What's 
got you so upset that you would answer your phone reprimanding someone for ... 
calling to check on you by the sound of things because you don't want to talk."

I was silent for quite a while.  She waited patiently, breathing gently on the 
other end of the line, giving me time.   Finally I said, "Mulder has a date 
Friday night."

"Oh, with who?"

"I don't know."

"Then how do you know he has a date?"

"I overheard him talking on the phone.  He was asking what to wear and saying he 
was going to dinner and he would be there."

"And you don't know who he was talking to?"

"No, he hasn't mentioned anybody's name.  I didn't think he had a woman in his 
life ... except me, of course."

"What makes you think it was a woman?"

"Well, I doubt he dates men!"

"Maybe it's not a date.  Maybe he's meeting a friend for dinner."

"Sounded like a date to me."

"And if it is?"

"What?  There's nothing I can do about it."

"Isn't there?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've never told him, have you?"

"Told him what?"

"That you're in love with him."

I sucked in my breath heavily and let it out slowly, feeling shaky.  "No," I 
said simply.

"Why not?"

"We're partners and friends, Mom.  That's not the kind of relationship we have."  
I paused.  

"It's the kind of relationship you have because you choose it."

"Mom, I'm not his type.  I've seen all of Mulder's women and they were nothing 
like me.  Tall, big boobs, brunette or blonde.  There's Diana, Phoebe that I 
told you about, Detective White, Bambi the bug lover, and some weird chick from 
a case long ago that I never met ... thank God."

"Oh, Dana.  That's just the superficial outside stuff."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean ... that if you wanted a different type of relationship, you could 
probably have it.  Your looks have nothing to do with it."

"It's complicated.  I don't think so."

"I think you're wrong.  Fox loves you, Dana.  I'm sure about that."

"What ... what makes you sure?"

"A mother knows these things."

"Excuse me if I don't take that as gospel."

She sighed.  "He was totally mental when you we're abducted, Dana." 

I laughed.  Just hearing my mother use the word 'mental' was a little strange.  
"Isn't he always?" I joked, trying to lighten the mood and change the direction 
of this conversation.

I didn't want to hurt my mother but I really didn't want to talk about this.  
Talking about it made it more real and present.  And I wasn't even sure how I 
felt.  So how could I explain it someone else?

"He can be," she said cryptically.  "But I mean that he was ... beside himself.  
He literally didn't know how to function or what to do without you there.  He 
could think of nothing else.  He believed you were alive and you were coming 
back no matter what."

"What made him believe that?"

She was quiet a moment.  Then she said softly, "He HAD to believe that Dana.  It 
was the only way he could go on.  I remember buying your gravestone."  Her voice 
hitched with emotion.  "He told me ... it's too soon."

"He was right," I said, feeling my own emotions start to overwhelm me.

"Yes, he was, thank the lord.  And I've never doubted him since.  I think you 
two have something rare; a connection that allows you to know that the other one 
still exists because you are a part of each other.  And if that part dies, you 
will know it.  You will FEEL it deep inside.  You need each other Dana.  
Especially with the work you do.  I wish you would put aside your silly excuses 
and rationalizations and just tell the man how you feel.  Go to him, Dana.  Be 
with him.  Life is too damn short."

"I don't know, Mom.  I'm so ... different from the women he's been with.  And 
I'm still not convinced he feels the way I do."

"Listen to me for a minute.  Forget about all Mulder's women from the past.  
That what they are ... the past!"

"I can't!"

"Listen to me for a minute," she repeated and I realized I kept interrupting 
her.

She plunged ahead.  "We always think we have more time.  We hold off making 
decisions because we think there will always be a tomorrow.  But ..." and I 
heard her swallowing her tears.  Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper.  "There 
isn't always a tomorrow, Dana.  I thought I had at least another 15 years with 
your father ... but I didn't."  She sniffled loudly.  "I thought I would have my 
children around me till the day I died ... but I don't."

"Oh, Mom! I'm so sorry."

She sniffled again.  "It's all right.  I have these ... moments.  I miss Melissa 
all the time.  And I miss your father all the time.  But I don't have any 
regrets."

"None?"

"No, because every time I saw your sister, I told her that I loved her.  She 
knew I loved her.  I told your father EVERY DAY that I loved him.  I made sure 
he knew and never doubted.  So when the time came to ... say good-bye ... I 
didn't have a bag full of coulda, shoulda, wouldas."

"I want to believe there is a tomorrow, Mom.  That our lives will calm down and 
then ..."

"You're waiting for the perfect moment, but it's not going to drop in your lap, 
Dana."

"I know," I said, sounding resigned.

"You have to MAKE the perfect moment.  You have to just decide to do it and once 
you have the resolve, the moment presents itself.  You just do it.  And yes, we 
need to believe there will be tomorrows.  If we didn't, what would be the point 
of living?  That's not what I mean.  What I mean is, just in case there ISN'T a 
tomorrow, we shouldn't waste time.  We should tell the people in our lives that 
we love them.  There nothing worse than having someone die and you never told 
them how you felt."

"Sounds like your talking from experience."

"Gramma Colleen," she said simply.

"You two didn't get along?"

"Oh, we did, but she never agreed with me marrying your father.  She thought I 
was crazy to have four kids and drag them all over the country.  She was very 
critical.  I know she meant well but she drove me crazy.  I vowed that I 
wouldn't be like that with my kids.  I would let them live their own lives, but 
I would put my two cents in.  But then I would leave them to make their 
mistakes."

"What happened?"

"I was sick of being criticized.  She didn't express herself very tactfully and 
her concerns always came out sounding like accusations.  So I stopped making the 
effort to stay in touch.  The visits were shorter and shorter, and then further 
and further apart.  Then it got to the point where I wouldn't see her or talk to 
her for months at a time."  She paused.  "And when she died, I was 2000 miles 
away ... and I hadn't picked up the phone in six months."

My chest ached for my mother as she related her regret.  "What would you have 
said?  If you'd seen her ... or talked to her?"

"I would have told her that despite the fact that we didn't always agree, I 
loved her and she would always be in my heart."

"Mom."

"Yeah?"

"Even though we don't always agree, I love you very much.  And you'll always be 
in my heart ... wherever I go, whatever I'm doing."

She laughed around a little sob and then sucked in a noisy breath.  "I love you 
too, Dana.  Don't ever doubt that."

"I know, Mom."

"I wasn't telling you that story to get you to tell me you loved me."

"I know."

"I was trying to make a point."

"You made it."

"Did I?  We'll see."

We were silent for several long moments.  Then I said, "Should I wait until 
after he has his date?"

"I wouldn't," was all she said.


PART 3 (R )
FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT
ALEXANDRIA, VA
THURSDAY EVENING
7:00 PM

The phone was ringing.

I staggered out of the shower and whipped a towel around my waist, trotting out 
into the living room.  I scooped up the phone just as my answering machine 
kicked in.

"This is Mulder.  You know the drill.  Leave a message.  I'll get back to you." 
Beeeeeeep.

"Mulder, it's me."

"Just a second, I'm here," I muttered.

I shut off the answering machine.  "Hey, Scully.  What's up?"

"Have you eaten?"

"No.  What did you have in mind?"

"Food."

I smiled into the phone.  "What kind of food?"

"Lasagna."

"Hmm, from Carlucci's?"

"You got it."

"My mouth is watering already."

"I'll bring it over."

"Sounds good. When will you get here?"

"How about now?"

"Now?" I asked puzzled.  Then I heard her key in the door.  She sashayed into 
the apartment, a paper bag in one hand, my key in the other and her cell phone 
cradled between her cheek and shoulder.  

She kicked the door shut as I whipped around, dropping the phone into the 
cradle.  "Hey, Mulder!" she greeted me.

Then she looked up.  

She stumbled.  Her cell phone went clattering to the floor and if I hadn't 
leaped to catch it, the lasagna would have been floor toast.  "Whoa, whoa, 
there, Scully!"

She took the lasagna from my hands and turned abruptly toward the kitchen.  

"Oh God!  I'm sorry, Mulder.  So clumsy of me.  Let me just put this in the 
kitchen.  I should have called first ..."

"You did call."

She continued as if I hadn't spoken.  "You do what you need to do and I'll just 
get the plates and silverware and drinks.  Is iced tea all right?  You always 
have that right?"

"Scully."

"Don't mind me, I'll just take care of things in here."

She was chattering like a magpie.  Very un-Scully-like.  I suddenly realized her 
discomfort was because I was standing there wearing nothing but a towel.  I 
smiled wide.  

"Scully!"  I said a little more forcefully.

She turned to me, hands frozen on the plates she'd placed on the counter, her 
eyes blinking in a measured, exaggerated fashion.  Her eyes scanned me from head 
to toe and then they snapped back up to meet mine.  I smiled.  "Calm down, 
Scully," I said simply.

"Please put some clothes on, Mulder," was all she said and then she turned away, 
going suddenly silent. 

I grinned at her and then turned to make my way to the bedroom.  I pulled on 
some sweatpants over my damp legs, not taking time to find any underwear.  I 
grabbed a muscle shirt tank top and pulled it on.  If seeing my body was going 
to disconcert Scully, then I wasn't going to cover it up.

I took a deep breath and strolled casually back into the living room.  She was 
sitting on the couch, the lasagna all served up on the plates.  I sat down in 
the middle of the couch instead of on my end and picked up my plate.  I hummed 
in appreciation after the first bite.

We smiled at each other.  She dropped her eyes.  My God, she was actually acting 
... weird ... coy or something.  Was she embarrassed that she'd seen my body?  
Did she like what she saw?  It unnerved her anyway.  But that may have just been 
because she didn't expect it.

She had bought dinner and headed over here before she called.  I wondered how 
she knew I would be home.  Then I mentally slapped my own forehead.  I was 
always home.  I had no life.  I loved eating dinner with Scully.  I hated eating 
alone.  I was so appreciative of the time she spent with me outside of the 
office.  I couldn't remember if I'd ever told her that.

"Scully?" I asked between bites.

"Yeah?" she muttered around a mouthful she was chewing.

"This is great.  I'm glad you came over."

She froze and looked at me for a couple of seconds, then started chewing again.  
She swallowed.  "No problem.  I just had a hankering for lasagna from 
Carlucci's."

"Is that what brought you to Alexandria?"

She looked down at her plate and played her fork around the remaining food 
there.  "Not really."

I looked at her, holding my silence.  When she didn't say anything else.  "Is 
there something you wanted to talk about?"

I hoped maybe she'd changed her mind and decided to share what was upsetting her 
yesterday.  Today had been another quiet interminable day of paperwork.  I'd 
been glad to get out of there.  Again, I'd left on time.

Her voice was quiet when she set down her plate and turned to me.  "I need to 
tell you something," she said, suddenly sounding very serious.

I put my plate down, sensing her urgency.  I was done anyway.  I'd nearly 
cleaned my plate.  "What is it?  Are you all right?"

She waved her hand at me. "Yes, I'm fine."

I frowned. I was really beginning to hate those words.  "What is it?  I'm 
surprised you came.  But I'm glad.  I wasn't looking forward to warmed up 
Chinese food."

She smiled.  

"I don't know if I've ever told you ..." I continued.

"What?"

"That I really enjoy ... spending time with you ... outside the office, I mean.  
I ... really like it when you stop by."

She just stared at me and then a smile crawled slowly across her face.  "I like 
it too, Mulder.  I probably never told you that either."

I nodded, smiling harder, unable to help myself, feeling suddenly shy.  "I'm 
glad we're friends, Scully.  I don't know what I'd do without you."

She gave me a strange look and then said, "Would you go to her?"

"Her? Her who?"

"Your ... date," she said quietly.

"What date?" I asked, truly confused now.

"The woman you're taking out to dinner tomorrow night."

Ding!  The light bulb went on and I smiled.  "Oh, that."

She frowned harder when I smiled.  "What's her name?  You never ... said you had 
a ... girlfriend."

I laughed out loud then.   She blinked rapidly, looking like she might actually 
cry.  I rushed to reassure her, wondering why she even needed to be reassured.  
"I don't have a girlfriend, Scully."

"You're going out to dinner with someone."

"Yes, I am.  Her name's Camille.  But she's a friend ..."

"A friend I didn't know about."

"Scully ... " I began, fully intending to explain, secretly a little thrilled 
that it bothered her.

Suddenly she blurted out, "I don't want you to go!"

Then she looked stricken that she'd said it.  She swallowed hard and looked at 
her lap, wrung her hands once and stood up abruptly.  "I ... I'm sorry.  I have 
no right.  I ... should just go.  I don't know why I came here.  I just ..."

I stood up and laid my hands on her shoulders as she made to walk away.  She 
froze again and I stepped into her carefully, feeling her tense under my hands.  
"Then I won't go."

My chest was a hair's breathe away from her back. After a few seconds, she 
shivered visibly.

I slowly bent my head to speak into her ear.  "Byer's has a date."

"What?" she asked, starting to turn.  I pulled her back into my chest by 
dropping one arm down and around her waist.  She gasped but held her ground.

"And she doesn't know him well, so she wanted her girlfriend to come along on 
the first date until they get to know each other a little.  He asked me to go 
along to keep the girl company, like a double date."

She panted gently like she was going to say something but then went still.

"I haven't even met her, Scully.  I am just doing a favor for Byers.  And she 
knows that she is just along for moral support.  She knows it's not a real date.  
Byers thought this girl, Brenda, might be more impressed that he had a friend in 
the FBI.  That he has normal friends.  Not that I'm normal by any means!  But he 
doesn't want Frohike and Langly to be the first friends she meets.  But 
I'll call him and tell him I can't do it."

Her shoulders finally relaxed and she hiccuped a little, her hand coming up to 
her mouth.  "No!  I'm sorry, Mulder.  I overreacted.  I don't even know why I 
said that ..."

"Because you don't want me to go?" I suggested helpfully.

She made to turn and this time I let her, dropping my arms but still standing 
close.  She looked up at me.  "I feel really embarrassed, really stupid."

I smiled.  "Don't feel stupid.  I'm flattered."

"Flattered?"

"That you thought I had a real date and didn't want me to go," I said quietly, 
holding her eyes.

Her baby blues darted away but then came back to meet my gaze.  "Mulder, I 
talked to my mother last night."

I almost flinched at the sudden change of subject and must have looked confused.

"We talked about you."

"Oh," I said, her statement now making more sense.  "Was she telling you what a 
nut case I am and that you find another career before you get yourself killed?"

She flinched and then frowned.  "No, but we did talk about dying."

"Dying?  You said you weren't sick!"

I stepped back and motioned toward the couch.  She came along and we both sat 
down again, her on the end with one leg pulled up in front of her.  Me in the 
middle, with one leg pulled up to mirror her.

"I'm not sick.  We talked about dying ... and having regrets."

"Hard to have regrets when you're dead."

She smiled.  "I mean that we talked about other people dying and having regrets 
because we didn't do or say something that we should have.  You know, like never 
letting someone know how important he or she is to you, always thinking there 
will be a tomorrow.  And then suddenly ... there aren't any more tomorrows," she 
said quietly near the end.

I stared at her.  "Is that why you came here tonight?"

"Yes."

"To tell me that I'm important to you," I clarified.

She swallowed harshly and I continued.  "You're important to me too, Scully.  
You're my best friend, my center.  I said before, I don't know what I'd do 
without you."

I now realized what this was all about.  She felt that I didn't know how she 
felt about me.  And frankly, I didn't.  But I knew she cared and I knew I was 
her best friend.  That was enough for me.  
Or was it?

She was now looking at my computer table across the room as though it were the 
most fascinating thing she'd ever seen.  But I knew her eyes were not seeing it.  
She blinked and licked her lips but stayed silent.  So I continued.

"I don't ... really know how to tell you how much you mean to me, Scully."

She turned to me then, her eyes wet but the tears contained.  "Hey, hey, what's 
the matter?" I asked, gently chucking her chin with my fingers. 

Her mouth moved but nothing came out.

"Tell me," I encouraged.

Her eyes lifted slowly to mine.  "I don't know how," she whispered.

"Would it help if you didn't have to look at me?"  She smiled then.  "Because if 
you want to turn around you can."

It sounded silly even as I said it.  However, I knew how hard it was sometimes 
to talk to people's faces; especially with emotions that you weren't used to 
expressing.  Neither Scully nor I were great it, but we had our moments of 
clarity and our moments of honesty.  They just didn't come often enough for me.

Finally she shook her head, I assumed refusing my offer to turn around.  She 
rubbed her hands nervously on the thighs of her loose, faded jeans.  "Can I ask 
you a question first?"

"Sure."

"It's a hard one."

I nodded.  "Fire away."

"How do you feel about me?"

I smiled.  "Could you be more specific?"

She looked down again.  "I don't know ... I mean, if I weren't going to be here 
tomorrow ... if you thought I was going to die ... and you wanted to make sure 
you'd said everything you wanted to say before I went ... what would you say?"

Now it was my turn to freeze.  My mouth was suddenly dry and I reached for my 
iced tea, draining the glass.  I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, 
setting the glass down on the coffee table again.

I looked at her, gauging how far she wanted this to go.  Could I be one hundred 
percent honest with her?  I doubted it.  Then again, I had been before and she 
was still here. She hadn't acknowledged it in any way or returned the 
sentiments.  But she hadn't run away either.

"There's so much," I said finally.

"I need for you to tell me," she said and I heard the urgency in her voice.  She 
was dead serious.  Something profound was happening here.  I was just wondering 
what the hell it was.  

I stared at her for a long time.  Finally I braced up my courage, licked my lips 
and said, "Scully ..."

"Just tell me," she said softly.

I opened my mouth and stopped.  Then I pulled in a deep breath and said, "It 
would take me a year." I paused and finally said, "I love you ... doesn't even 
begin to cover it," I whispered.

Her eyes went wide for a moment and I saw the wetness again.  The she closed 
them and blew air out of her pursed lips.  She opened her eyes again, blinking 
lethargically as though she wasn't sure she'd heard me right.  Her eyes asked 
that question.

I nodded, suddenly feeling panic set in at her non-response.

Just when I was about to start qualifying it and telling her that nothing had to 
change just because she knew that now, she whispered back, "I'm in love with you 
too, Mulder."

I gulped and exclaimed, "Holy shit!"

She smiled tentatively and then we both began to laugh.  It escalated until we 
were both gasping for breath and had tears running down our faces.  The relief 
that I was experiencing after that admission was tremendous.  I could only hope 
she was feeling the same thing at finally getting those words out.

I calmed down and asked softly, "Did you say ... IN LOVE ... with me?"

She nodded, pressing her lips together.

"Oh God, Scully."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know, I imagined telling you a thousand times."

"You did?"

"Yeah," I said as I scooted closer to her on the couch and turned to lean my 
back against the backrest.

"Why didn't you?"

"I was afraid of losing you, scaring you away.  I didn't think you felt the same 
way.  I'm not an easy man to love."

She smiled. "I think you are."

"Yeah, well, you're not right in the head any more either!" I teased.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, swatting me playfully on the shoulder.  

I grabbed her wrist and held it to my chest.  She froze, looking hesitant.  I 
said, "Scully, I imagined it, but I never imagined telling you this way."

"What way?"

"I don't know, calmly, sitting here on my couch."

"What did you imagine?"

"Like you said, some traumatic event would finally make me blurt it out ... or I 
would be losing you anyway and it wouldn't matter, there would be no risk of 
losing you."

She looked at me and tilted her head.  "Why don't you ask Byers if he would mind 
making this a threesome?"

"A ménage á trois, Scully?"

She laughed.  "I mean that I have a friend that would probably go out to dinner 
with us, and be what's her name's date."

"Camille," I said with mild amusement.  "I can do that.  You want me to do it 
now?"

"No, wait until tomorrow morning, Mulder."

"Why?"

"Cause I have other plans for you right now," she said slyly.

The way she was looking at me made my heart suddenly begin to race.  My mouth 
was dry again and I licked my lips.  I was slightly embarrassed at how rough my 
voice was when I finally spoke, "And what plans would those be?"

 "Hmmm," she said slowly.

"Don't tease, Scully," I reprimanded gently.

"Well, I've been wondering something for a long time and now I think I'd like to 
find out and put my wondering to rest."

"What have you been wondering ... for a long time now?"

She swallowed heavily.  She met my gaze again and said, "What it feels like to 
be kissed by you."

I blew air out of my lungs, my mouth falling open.  "Let's find out."

I licked my dry lips again and turned, leaning on my shoulder.  I slowly reached 
up and cupped the back of her neck, tugging gently.  She leaned toward me so 
slowly I thought I was going to scream.

When our lips were a hair's breath away from each other, I whispered, "I've 
wondered a lot of things too.  And this is definitely one of them."

I closed my eyes as our lips touched gently, our mouth's open tentatively. She 
brushed her lips against mine; feather light and my jaw worked open and closed 
again.  I felt a zip of electricity jolt my lips.  

She gasped, so I guess she felt it too.  The tip of her pink tongue snaked out 
and stabbed at my lower lip.  

I let out a sound like a purr from deep in my chest.  "Scully," I nearly whined.  
"Don't ... tease me."

She smiled quickly and then her mouth descended on mine.  I groaned as I felt 
her tongue slide across my teeth, seeking entrance.  I willingly opened my mouth 
and her tongue slid inside, slowly.

She licked the roof of my mouth and then circled her tongue inside my teeth.  I 
moaned softly, feeling my crotch tingle as I began to harden.  She was still 
moving in slow motion, our touches tentative and our tongues teasing.  I 
couldn't take it for very long.

When her lips pursed around my tongue that was stuck out of my mouth seeking her 
warm cavern, I moaned ferociously.  I felt her smile against my lips and I 
pulled her into me, her body losing balance as it twisted and she ended up 
facing me, her hip next to my thigh, her legs curled up in front of her.  I 
leaned her over, my arm slipping around her back to brace her, one hand still 
cupping the back of her head.  I pounced on her mouth, deepening our kiss.

She moaned into my mouth and I thought I might pass out from the sudden rush of 
blood to my groin.  My erection strained against my sweats and I explored the 
inside of her mouth, feeling completely intoxicated.

Her mouth finally slid away from mine and she kissed my jaw.  Then her tongue 
snaked down my jaw and she suckled gently on the skin over my pulse.

I groaned and tightened my hold her.  "How am I doing so far?" I joked.

"Feels pretty good to me," she replied.  

I slipped both hands around her back and hauling her up against me.  I muttered, 
"God, you make me crazy."

She mumbled, "How crazy?"

I took her left hand gently by the wrist and slid it down my side, over my hip 
and pressed my hand on the back of hers.  Her hand pressed my hardness through 
the soft fleece of my sweatpants. She gasped, "Oh!"

And then her fingers carefully circled my shaft and she gave a little squeeze.  
I bucked involuntarily into her hand, moaning again and feeling like a horny 
teenager.  I pulled her hand away as I was quickly reaching the point of no 
return.

She frowned at me, but I held her firmly, not letting her back away.  She didn't 
seem to mind.

I looked into her eyes and they were dark, her eyelids hooded and her pupils 
dilated.  Her lips were swollen and begging to be kissed.  I croaked, "How far 
are we going, Scully?"

She panted gently and said, "I hadn't really thought about it."

"Well, think about it, because if we are going to stop ... I need to stop now."

The corners of her mouth quirked up and so did her eyebrow.  I smiled at her, 
doing a fair share of my own panting.  "Make a decision, Scully."
 



PART 4 (NC-17)
FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT
ALEXANDRIA, VA
THURSDAY EVENING
9:00 PM

I simply cannot believe this.  This afternoon I was seething with jealousy over 
a date that wasn't even a date.  And now, here I was, having taken my mother's 
advice.  Did I mention that mother's are usually right?

I'm in Fox Mulder's bed.  I am naked as the day I was born ... and so is he.

He is magnificent as he stands there at the side of the bed, looking down at me 
like I'm the most beautiful woman in the world.  My heart is hammering inside my 
ribcage, threatening to spin right out of my chest.

We are really going to do this.

I made my decision and now there was no turning back.

He stands there looking like a Greek God, all tan and muscles, his breathing 
shallow.  His hair is slightly mussed from undressing and he looks adorable.  
Correction, he looks good enough to eat.

I glance down below his navel and feel wetness flow between my legs again at the 
sight of his erection.  He's enormous, at least by my standards.  I'm not a very 
big woman and I haven't had that many lovers.  But from what I know, Mulder is 
... very well endowed. 

He is hard and thick, the veins standing out.  I can almost see him pulse with 
blood.  He slowly lifts his leg and places his knee on the edge of the bed.  
He's been staring at me for a full two minutes now and I'm becoming a tad 
uncomfortable once I stop long enough to realize that I've staring too.

His voice is deep and laden with arousal when he finally says, "YOU ... are the 
most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

I smile and hold my arms up.  He crawls onto the bed and lays down next to me.  
We face each other and he leans in to kiss me, our hands immediately beginning a 
thorough exploration of each other's bodies.  He kisses my neck, finding all my 
sensitive spots and then moves on.

I nearly levitated off the bed when he took my nipple into his mouth and sucked 
like a starving man.  My nipple throbbed and ached as he sucked and teased my 
nipple with the rough texture of his licking tongue at the same time.  Once he'd 
given each equal attention, he moved down to caress every rib, tongue my navel 
and scratch lightly on my hipbones. 

I was moaning out of control by the time he rolled me onto my back and parted my 
nether lips with his thumbs, gently pushing my legs further apart with his 
elbows.  I looked down at him and he looked back from underneath his long 
eyelashes. 

I whispered, "You are gorgeous.  Do you have any idea how sexy you are?"

He gave me his patented leer that was usually reserved for innuendo and waggled 
his eyebrows.  I laughed and then he rolled his eyes.  The laughter broke the 
tension that had been building.  He responded, "I'm glad you think so."

And he lowered his mouth to begin licking me from top to bottom.  He left no 
crevice unexplored and then got his fingers into the act, quickly bringing me to 
the point of no return.

I shouted, "Oh God! I'm coming!" when I felt the first spasm hit.  I'd been 
totally unprepared for it.  It hit me like a tsunami, rolling through me with a 
force that closed my eyes and arched my back.  I could hear my keening as though 
through a tunnel as I felt his fingers plunge in and out of me as he sucked my 
swollen, turgid clit into his gorgeous mouth.

I'd never come from oral sex.  Score one for Fox Mulder and his oral fixation.

When I calmed, he slowly removed his fingers, making me hiss at the loss.  He 
moved up over me and said, "I could come just watching you come.  Jesus, Scully, 
that was beautiful."

I grinned, sapped of my energy from the force of my orgasm.  He lowered himself 
carefully between my thighs, taking his weight on his elbows.  He leaned down to 
kiss me and I saw my wetness glittering on his chin.  I kissed him and then 
licked my juices off his chin.

He groaned, a sound that came from deep in his chest and I felt his arms tremble 
where they laid between my rib cage and arms.  "So sexy," he muttered.  

His heavy hardness poked at my dripping wet tunnel and I sucked in a deep 
breath.  He paused and asked, "Is this O.K.?"

"Of course!"

"No, I mean this position.  Did you want a different one?"

"No," I said softly.  "I want to feel you all around me and inside me."

"Oh Christ, Scully."

He lowered his head, placing his forehead on my shoulder and slid into me with 
one sure, steady stroke, burying himself to the hilt.

I moaned and then he wiggled his hips, finding a new angle and sinking deeper.  
"Oh God, Mulder!" I exclaimed, my voice warbling slightly.  I could feel him 
pressing on my cervix and the deep pelvic pressure was divine.

"You O.K.?" he asked through gritted teeth.  

I nodded. "Yes, move.  Make love to me, Mulder."

He moaned and began to thrust, exiting a little further each time until he was 
retreating almost completely and plunging back in.  He spoke softly, his voice 
rumbling as he stared into my eyes.  "You feel like Heaven, Scully.  Oh, God, 
I'm so in love with you."

I braced my hands on his biceps and my feet on the bed and began meeting his 
thrusts.  "Oh!" he shouted.  

A few more strokes and he said, "Never thought I'd be making love to you.  God, 
I hope this isn't a dream."

"If it is, it's the most vivid one I've ever had."

"Jesus, Scully, I'm not going to last," he blurted out and hissed through his 
teeth.

"It's all right, I already came."

"No!" he panted.  He slowed down but kept his rhythm, reached down with his 
right hand, grabbing my left leg under the knee and he raised it up high, 
pressing outward slightly, my knee nearly in my armpit.  This tipped my pelvis 
up toward him

This shifted his weight and his angle of penetration.  And 

''JJEESSUUSSS!  MMMUUULLLDDDEEERRR!  OH MYYY GGGOOODDD!" I shrieked and he 
plunged into me, raking over my G-spot and causing the most intense sensations 
to ripple through me.

"Yeah, that's it, baby.  Come for me!"

I shouted, "Aaaaahhhh," or something equally intelligent and began to orgasm 
again, my walls clamping down on his cock as he grunted and continued plunging 
into me, stimulating my G-spot.  I feel the odd cringing, followed by the gushes 
of warmth, each time he slid into me.

I kept coming as he slammed into me.  A few mighty strokes later, he went stiff 
and still above me, his mouth open on a silent scream, his stomach muscles 
straining in tension.  He bellowed, "Oh GOD!"

His cock spasmed inside me and I felt his hot sperm coat my insides with 
delicious warmth.  He chanted as he came, "So good, ohIloveyouscully, so good, 
ohiloveyouscully, Oh sweet Jesus!"

He collapsed against me, panting.  I ran my hands over his back, keeping him 
pressed to my body, enjoying the heat that was rolling off him in waves.  He 
finally lifted his head from my shoulder and kissed me gently.  "That was 
incredible ... a ... life altering experience."

I laughed, "Didn't know you were so dramatic after sex, Mulder," I teased.

He smiled slowly, looking sleepy.  "I can't believe we're here like this, 
Scully."

"Me neither."

"I'm afraid of letting you down."

"Don't be.  Just be yourself.  That's all I want, you know."

"You're amazing," he whispered.

I smiled again.  "Besides, I'm the one that has to worry about not measuring 
up."

He looked truly befuddled at that statement.  "What on earth are you talking 
about, Scully?"

"Measuring up ... to all ..."

"All what?"

"All Mulder's women," I said, as though speaking to myself.

He chuffed out a bark of laughter.  "I still have not idea what you're talking 
about.  I don't have any women."

"The women of your past, Mulder," I said, feeling the niggling doubt in my back 
of my mind again.

He leaned in and kissed me soundly and then pulled back.  "The women in my past 
are in my past and none of them is even remotely in your league, Scully."

"I'm not the type you usually go for."

"No, you're the type I fall in love with," he answered.

I smiled again.  He did have a way with words.  He sensed my disquiet again and 
said, "Are you really worried?"

I sighed.  "I don't know."

"Scully, I love you, no one else.  I just look at your tiny, sexy body and my 
entire being goes on alert."

I laughed, feeling his flaccid penis slip out of me.  "Is that so?"

"That's so and I just had the best sex of my entire life.  So stop worrying.  
Wouldn't it be the worst kind of joke if this had sucked?"

"What do you mean?"

He grinned.  "We are so close and work so well together on everything we've ever 
tried.  I'm glad that carried over into sex."

"And love," I added. 

"And love," he agreed.

"So ..."

"So there is no such thing as Mulder's women," he stated with mock sternness, 
pursing his lips.  "There is only Mulder's woman ... and that's you, Scully."

"I'm your woman, huh?"

"Got a problem with that G-woman?"

"Not even a little, Mulder.  Not even a little."

Then we proceeded to make out until we were too tired to keep our eyes open and 
fell asleep.  My last thought was, 'I think I'm gonna like being Mulder's 
woman.'

His voice drifted to me just as I drifted off.  "I love you so much, Scully."

THE END.