TITLE:	MIRACLES NEVER CEASE 
AUTHOR:	DONNILEE
E-MAIL:	DONNILEE@SNET.NET
Web site:   pages.zdnet.com/brunoem/bbrain/id.12.html
CATEGORY:	MSR
RATING:	NC-17 - ALT. POV.
SPOILERS:	Can't think of any.
SUMMARY:	In the aftermath of their molestation by a madman, M&S must 
accept help from others to come to terms with their trauma and get on with their 
lives.
DISCLAIMER: 	All X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen 
Productions and Fox Broadcasting.  Used here without permission, shamelessly 
and without remorse.  Please don't sue me.  You can't get blood from a stone 
anyway!
AUTHOR'S NOTE:  You don't have to have read "M is for Miracle" in order to 
understand this one, but I would love it if you did.  It will help to make this one 
make more sense. 
THANKS:  Many thanks to Shannon, Shannon, Fee-Fi, Fo-Fanan, Shannon!, my 
beta reader and good friend, not to mention as big of a Phile as I am!  Thanks 
for making me look better than I actually am! Hugs and cyber air kisses.
SPECIAL THANKS:  To Wendy, who kept pestering me (and I mean that in the 
nicest way!) to write a sequel to this one and also gave me a couple of good 
ideas for a plot line.  I'm shameless in my pilfering of others' ideas!  Thanks, 
babe.  Hopefully, she'll stop biting her nails now!
DEDICATION:	The latest and loudest voices have come from WENDY! (doing 
a constant and unrepentant wave for a sequel), Cate, Taty73.  Thanks girls for 
your encouragement.  This one's for you! 

PART 1 (PG-13)
J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING
Monday Afternoon

"Agents!  Get up to my office, NOW!  I don't have a lot of time to spend with you 
this afternoon and I want to talk with you ... TODAY!" skinner's voice boomed 
over the speakerphone.

I jumped despite my efforts not to.  Mulder gave me a concerned look and then 
hung his head, saying, "We'll be right up, Sir."

Skinner disconnected the call, and I watched Mulder stab the button to hang up 
our end.  

He looked up at me and said, "You know what he's going to say, don't you?"

I nodded.  "That we need to go to counseling."

He nodded in return.  "Well, at least he said he didn't have much time.  We'll 
only 
be balled out for a short period."

I smiled.  "So what your 're saying is the beatings will be brief ... but severe."

He chuckled at that and held out his hand.  I took it and stepped into him.  He 
hugged me close and asked, "What are we going to tell him?"

"I think it's time for us to face facts."

"And those are?"

"We need help, Mulder.  We're not going to get over this on our own.  It's been 
over a month.  This was our first case back in the field and we blew it."

He swallowed heavily and looked down at me.  "I know.  I just hoped that ..."

"Yeah, I know."

We sighed heavily in unison and smiled at one another.  We exited the office, 
bringing nothing with us regarding the case.  What was the point?  We knew we 
were going to be taken off it anyway.

Kimberly, Skinner's secretary, motioned us into the inner sanctum and we 
entered and took up our defensive positions in the chairs provided in front of our 
A.D.  He did not look up from his desk right away as he was reading a file in 
front of him.  No doubt it was the first draft of the report by our fellow agents, 
cataloguing our screw up.

I glanced at Mulder and he sat tense on the chair, leaning forward with his hands 
on his knees.  I knew he was going to blame himself for this ... again.  And it 
wasn't his fault.  He had pursued just like he was supposed to.  It was me that 
couldn't keep up.  It was me that panicked when he sprinted ahead so far that I 
lost sight of him.  If I'd had my shit together, he never would have broken off his 
pursuit and returned to find me.

Skinner looked up with a scowl on his face and I braced myself for the reprimand 
that was sure to come.  As I expected, his voice sounded like a bullhorn in the 
silence of the office.  Even expecting it, I winced noticeably and curled my chin 
into my chest at the first sound of his voice.

"I am NOT happy with you, Agents," he began.  He must have noticed my 
wincing, because his voice softened immediately.  "I have a difficult decision to 
make and I need you two to be brutally honest with me."

Maybe this wasn't going to be as bad as I thought.  He continued, "Obviously, 
you're off the case.  And unfortunately, at least temporarily, I'm going to have 
suspend you two from field duty.  Too many people saw this and I have no 
choice but to give an official reprimand."

Then again, I thought.  Maybe it was going to be every bit as bad as I thought it 
was going to be.

XXXXXXXXXX

A little over a month ago, Scully and I were taken hostage by a madman, 
Kramer 
Spinks.  He'd escaped from jail, thwarting death row.  My profile for VCS had 
helped to convict him.

He died in his final confrontation with police, but not before he molested and 
mentally tortured Scully and I, making us have ... carnal relations against our 
will.  Despite the circumstances, it had brought us close together for a time.  It 
was the worst way for her to find out how I felt about her.  But I'd thought we 
were probably going to die and we'd told each other that we loved each other.  
This declaration was something both of us had held back for a very long time.  
Once the knowledge was out there though, there was no choice but to deal with 
it.

So we had made love after the incident, the way we had always hoped to; in my 
bed, tenderly and slowly, with no one watching.  I still carried a heavy load of 
self-loathing for even having been able to get excited under those horrifying 
circumstances.

We'd taken some time off to get our nerves back in order.  Scully still had 
nightmares and now I'd had several incidents of impotence after waking up from 
dreams of that animals hands on me.  It was causing extremes of emotion in 
both 
of us. 

On the one hand, we were both amazed at the depth of our love for one another 
and wondered why the hell we'd ever kept it a secret from one another.  We 
were both enjoying the comfort and excitement of a committed relationship for 
the first time in years.

On the other hand, we were both fucked up.  Scully had developed something 
she never openly displayed in the past; fear.  High-pitched laughter or voices 
raised in anger would make her flinch reflexively in fear, causing flashback's of 
Spinks' mocking, maniacal laughter.  She had nightmares at least a couple of 
times a week.  She would wake up screaming for me and I would hold her and 
calm her, cooing to her until she could fall asleep again.  

I had nightmares also.  But my problem was being depressed.  My notorious lack 
of self esteem had raised its ugly head again, despite my new relationship with 
Scully.  My inability to protect her, and the fact that she had been subjected to 
this at all, haunted me.  As usual, despite her vehement protests, I blamed 
myself.  It was one more thing to add to the muumuu of guilt that I wore around 
me. Every nightmare and every cringe of fear that I witnessed in my beloved 
reinforced my self-imposed penance.  I waited on her hand and foot.  That 
wasn't healthy either.  The most amazing thing was that she let me do it.  The 
old Scully would never have tolerated my hovering.

I'd virtually moved in to her place, although I kept paying the rent on my place.  
My place was fast becoming nothing but storage.  The thought of being 
separated was unthinkable to both of us and we'd been inseparable for over a 
month, literally.  I hadn't had her out of my sight any further than in another room 
of her apartment in over a month.  She said she felt safe with me there.  She'd 
panicked the first time I left on my own to get groceries and I'd returned to find 
her huddled on the bathroom floor with the door locked.

I hadn't left her since.  We ate, slept, shopped, worked, and did everything ... 
together.

That's where the trouble came in.  That's why we were being summoned to His 
Majesty's office at this time.  Rather than send us unaided into the field for our 
first foray back in the bowels of government servitude, we'd been asked to assist 
in a manhunt consisting of a web of stakeouts around the city.  Southeast D.C. 
was not a pleasant place to hang out.  But we'd stiffened our spines and sat in 
our beat up Pinto requisitioned from the motor pool and watched the building of 
the drug dealer's girlfriend like good little agents.  

We'd spotted the suspect and radioed to our fellow agents that we had him in our 
sights.  They'd ordered us to wait for back up, which amazingly, probably for the 
first time in our history, we did.  Neither of us was anxious to go tearing after this 
guy unaided.  We knew he was probably armed, and there was no doubt he was 
dangerous.  He had already killed one D.C. police officer.  Cops and the FBI 
wanted this guy in the worst way.  Nothing gets an investigation cracking like the 
hatred generated from a cop killing.

When our back up arrived, we stormed the building, shouting our presence and 
then knocking down the girlfriends' door with a battering ram.  We flooded into 
the apartment, weapons drawn, boasting FBI windbreakers one and all.  Our 
suspect was making a classic run for it out the window and onto the fire escape.

I'd charged after him, ducking back inside when he took a pot shot at me, 
missing by a mile.  We'd jumped out the window to follow.  Myself, Scully,  and 
two other agents.  I took off on foot, barreling down hidden alleys and following 
the sound of his sneakers on the wet pavement.  Four blocks later, in the heat of 
my zealous pursuit, I suddenly realized that I didn't sense anyone behind me.  I 
glanced back to see the two other Agents, Agents McFadden and Halloran in 
sight, but lagging behind me.  My habit of running came in handy for on-foot 
pursuit.

The problem ... Scully was nowhere in site.  I stopped dead in my tracks, whirling 
around backwards, screaming her name.  There was no answer except the full 
body press of Agent McFadden as he tried to slow and veer around me but 
slipped on the pavement and crashed into me at full speed.  We went down in a 
tangle of arms and legs.  

I won't repeat the string of profanity that spewed out of his mouth.  Suffice it say 
he was not a happy camper.  I ignored him and screamed for Scully again, 
leaping to my feet and taking off ... back the way I'd come.  My panic was 
overwhelming.  My ears were buzzing.  My heart was banging against my 
ribcage so hard I thought it would burst out of my chest.  I'd become light headed 
and was in the throes of a full-blown panic attack when I saw her.

She was leaning against the side of a brick building, pressing her back and both 
hands, palm down against the wall.  Her weapon was at her feet, her eyes 
closed, and she was muttering to herself.  I hollered her name and her eyes 
snapped open.  I heard the end of her mutter.  It sounded something like, "Get a 
grip, he's not far away."

She nearly choked on a sob when she saw me.  I'd holstered my weapon and 
scooped her up in my arms, panting heavily as I felt my panic recede.  I'd 
combed my fingers through her hair and held her fiercely, making her cry out at 
my harsh squeeze.  I'd loosened my grip but started kissing her face to make 
sure she was real and all right.  I kissed her forehead, temples, both eyes, her 
nose and cheeks and chin.  When we were both under some semblance of 
control, I kissed her tenderly but briefly on the lips, muttering, "I'm here.  
Everything's all right.  I'm right here."  

She had shaken her head, negating my statement and wailed, "Everything is 
NOT all right, Mulder!  Jesus!  What the hell is the matter with me?!"

I'd had no answer and so just held her until another pair of agents pulled up in a 
beat up Ford Escort.  We'd piled into the back and they'd driven us back to the 
Hoover building.  We'd sat down to write up our accounts of why we had halted 
our pursuit of the suspect, knowing that there was no excuse that would be good 
enough.  We'd fucked up.  I'd fucked up.  I was the fastest runner and had the 
best chance of catching this asshole and I'd let my panic over losing Scully take 
precedence over everything else.  Nothing else had mattered.  I could have 
gotten my fellow agents killed.

Now we both had to face the music.  There was a very real possibility that we 
would be found 'Unfit for Duty', the nightmare of every law enforcement officer 
and FBI agent that worked in the field.

XXXXXXXXXX

Skinner was silent for a moment and then said, "Agent Mulder, you first.  What 
happened?"

I glanced at him again and he swallowed, then took a deep breath, raising his 
eyes to Skinner's frowning face.  "Well, we tried to pursue the suspect.  I chased 
him for ... about four blocks, I guess.  Then, I don't know.  I sensed that no one 
was behind me.  For the first time in my life I waited for back up and now I didn't 
feel them there.  The guy had already taken a pot shot at me when I tried to 
follow him down the fire escape."

Skinner's frown deepened.  "Cut the bullshit, Mulder.  I want ... I NEED the truth 
here.  What happened?"

Mulder licked his lips and then seemed to deflate, resigned to the fact that this 
was one time we were not going to be able to bullshit our way out of the 
situation.  Skinner was too perceptive about us now.  And besides, I didn't want 
to deceive him.  He had done everything in his power to protect and support us 
throughout our careers.  And he'd been very understanding about all the time 
we'd taken off, even getting us qualified for short term disability.  That was quite 
a feat, since neither of us had made a claim for disability or seen a doctor.

Finally, after another moment of silence, Mulder said, "I glanced back and didn't 
see Scully.  I had outrun not only her but Agents McFadden and Halloran as 
well.  They were lagging at least three quarters of a block behind me.  But they 
were moving, nearly as fast as I was."

He paused.  His bottom lip quivered slightly and he bit into it with his top teeth.  
Then he said, "I didn't see her.  I panicked."  He sniffled quite loudly, obviously 
embarrassed at his display of emotion and the fact that he had to admit to 
panicking.  He looked at his lap, but kept talking.

"I spun around to make sure she wasn't there and I yelled to her.  McFadden 
couldn't stop.  The pavement was wet and he crashed into me and we both went 
in a heap.  I don't know what happened to Halloran.  I think he leaped over us 
and kept going."

"And then?" Skinner prompted quietly, obviously not wanting to cut him off.

Mulder swallowed again.  "And then ... Sir, I had a full blown panic attack."

"Panic attack," Skinner repeated.  It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, Sir.  I had a panic attack.  My ears were buzzing, I was light headed and I 
felt my adrenaline pumping out of control.  I ran back the way I'd come until I 
found Agent Scully."

Mulder looked up and met Skinner's look.  He was silent and giving Mulder his 
full attention.  He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head as if to say, 'Go on.'

Mulder said, "I found her and then it stopped."

"The panic attack stopped when you found Agent Scully," he clarified.

Mulder nodded stiffly.

He turned his regard to me and I sat back in my chair, using the backrest as 
support.  I didn't know if I could sit up straight on my own power.  He cleared his 
throat.  "Agent Scully?"

"I'm very embarrassed, Sir.  I think we both are."

"That goes without saying. But it's just me here now and you don't need to be 
embarrassed.  Everything we say here is confidential.  I promise you that.  I 
know what you two have been through."

Oddly, I found that reassuring. He knew what had happened to us.  He didn't 
know the details, but Mulder had informed me that he had to tell him some of it 
to get the time off and explain our need for it.

"I couldn't keep up, Sir.  I'm in good shape, but, let's face it.  I'm short as a 
stump."

He chuckled at my little self deprecation and said, "You're not a midget, Agent 
Scully."

I actually smiled a sad smile at him.  "I feel like it sometimes when I'm trying to 
keep up with three men who all have legs as tall as tree trunks."

He smiled then.  "Go on."

"I did all right for about a block and half.  But then they pulled ahead and by the 
end of two blocks, I couldn't see them anymore."  I closed my eyes, reliving the 
feeling of that moment.  "I felt suddenly very exposed and I was ... paranoid, like 
someone was going to jump out of one of the doors I was running past and grab 
me."

That was what had happened with Spinks.  I'd approached the door to retrieve a 
hostage and instead of letting Mulder block my access like I'd said I'd do, I'd 
stepped around him, ignoring his protests.  And it had gotten me yanked into that 
building and resulted in having a gun pointed at my head.  

Mulder had gone ballistic and nearly gotten himself killed by bombarding the 
door to get to me.  I don't even know if he knew that Spinks had aimed his rifle 
right at him through the glass door.  I'd squeezed off a round from my position 
on the floor and distracted him long enough to change his mind.

I looked at the pictures on the walls, my eyes idly flicking over them, not really 
seeing them.  "I couldn't see Mulder and I couldn't keep running all by myself.  I 
couldn't see the other agents either.  I don't know.  I just stopped and couldn't 
move.  I pressed myself against the wall of the building I was standing next to.  
And that was it.  I couldn't move."

I ventured at look at him.  "I really thought I was ready, Sir.  I really thought I 
would be all right.  I don't really know what happened."

"I do," he said calmly.  We both fixed our gazes on him, waiting for his opinion.  
He didn't seem nearly as upset as when we'd walked in the door.

"Well," he said, pausing.  "I'm no doctor, but it sounds like a severe case of 
separation anxiety."

Mulder and I glanced at each other and back at him.  That made sense, I 
thought.  I ventured a question.  "No one talked to us on the way back here or ... 
after.  What happened?"

Mulder broke in.  "It's my fault he got away."

Skinner surprised us both when he said, "The suspect is in custody."

"What?!" we both exclaimed at the same time.  We had both just assumed that 
he'd gotten away.  I guess that was fairly arrogant on our parts.

Skinner actually smiled.  "You lucked out.  Halloran continued pursuit, and 
another pair of Agents in a car were able to cut him off and they flanked him and 
ran him down.  D.C.P.D. is probably breaking out the champagne.  Officer 
Williams was a popular man."

"I'm so relieved," Mulder said quietly.

Skinner smirked.  "Yeah, one less thing to feel guilty about, right?"

Mulder scowled.  "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked angrily.

I reached out and put my hand on his forearm.  He glanced at me but then back 
to Skinner.  Skinner replied, "Mulder, the world does not revolve around you.  I 
know you'd like to think you are responsible for every rotten thing that happens 
in the world in which you are even remotely connected.  But that's just not the 
case.  Now, I'm sympathetic to your situation.  And I have some 
recommendations ... scratch that, I have some orders."

Mulder sat in stony silence, obviously insulted.  Skinner shook his head slightly 
as though exasperated.  "Mulder, you take way too much blame for things that 
go wrong.  Yes, you are impetuous, or have been in the past.  Yes, you have 
gotten a raw deal on more occasions than I care to count.  However, there are 
bad people in the world, plenty of them.  And I hate to break it to you, but you 
ARE NOT one of them."

I smiled then, agreeing with him one hundred percent.  I could see Mulder 
gearing up for an argument and I cut in.  "Mulder, let it go for now.  He's right 
anyway.  In a perverse kind of way, we are incredibly arrogant to think we are 
that important.  We both assumed this guy got away.  Why?  Because we are 
the only two people in the world who could possibly catch him?"  I paused as he 
looked at me, at least paying attention.

"I think we are so used to working alone without support, with no net.  "We 
forget, in our insulated world, that there are other competent people out there."  
We forget that the world turns even when we are not in it.  And frankly, we 
haven't been in it since ..."  I trailed off.

He sighed.  "You're right, of course," he mumbled.  "You're always right."

I frowned.  "Don't be upset with me, or Skinner.  We both just don't want to see 
you taking on guilt for things that aren't your fault."

Skinner broke in at this point.  "Now, to the point of this visit.  I didn't expect to 
be in here with you this long as it is.  I have a busy day.  Not to be dismissive, 
but I really am busy today."

He looked at me and then at Mulder, pointedly.  "You both have to go to 
counseling."

"But, Sir ..." Mulder began to protest.

Skinner held up a hand like a stop sign to forestall his protest.

"No buts.  This is it.  You have to see someone and resolve some of these 
lingering effects from your horrible experience.  And as much as I would like to 
say 'just take another month off', I can't.  I can't justify it unless you both see a 
doctor.  You need to be declared Fit for Duty by a qualified professional or the 
Bureau isn't even going to consider it, especially after this."

We both just looked at him, knowing there was no longer any choice.  We were 
private people and the thought of sharing our innermost troubles with a stranger 
was a harrowing thought for both of us.  Then he said, "I can recommend 
someone if you like."

I nodded.  "You can see Dr. Cecily Brown if you like.  I know her and she is 
honest and fair and very discreet.  She is not on the Bureau payroll, but they will 
accept her diagnosis.  She's worked with us before when we needed to send 
people outside the Bureau loop.  She's worked with trauma victims and rape 
victims.  Treating victims of violent crime is her specialty.  She also belongs to 
the Victims' Advocacy Group here in D.C. that does a lot of pro bono work for 
victims and their families.  She does group and individual therapy.  I would like 
to see you both see the same doctor, separately and together."

"Separately," I said quietly, wondering if I could do it.

He looked at me and said, "I'll call her and set up an appointment and explain 
that you will need to begin together."

Mulder said, "Thank you, sir."

"You're dismissed, Agents.  Go home and get some rest.  I'll call you when I 
have the appointment set up.  Is any time better for you than any other."

Mulder answered, "Any time is fine.  Early morning is not a good time for either 
of us."  

Skinner nodded and we stood to take our leave.  We were often exhausted in 
the morning from having been up half the night trying to sleep and recovering 
from nightmares.  As much as I didn't want to do this, I knew, intellectually, that 
it was what we both needed.  If the shoe were on the other foot, it would be 
exactly what I would advise for someone else.  Somehow though, the doctor in me 
never wanted to take her own advice.


PART 2  (NC-17)
DR. CECILY BROWN'S OFFICE
WASHINGTON, D.C.
One Week Later

I liked her instantly.  I went in prepared to resent and hate her and I just couldn't 
do it.  She was a tall woman, at least five foot, nine inches.  She wore a cotton 
skirt with a flower pattern, black soft leather flats and a cream silk blouse.  She 
was lovely African American woman with creamy skin and soulful dark eyes 
framed by long lashes.  She wore no make up, her long hair in a thick ponytail.  
She wore a single gold chain around her neck. 

She was soft spoken and we made introductions.  Her first words were, "What an 
attractive couple you two are."

We smiled at each other and sat on a couch opposite a comfortable leather chair 
she occupied.  She started with Scully, asking her to tell a little bit about herself 
prior to this trauma that precipitated our current situation.

Scully was clear and concise as always, stating that she was a Navy brat, went 
to medical school, and was then recruited into the FBI.  Within two years, she 
was assigned to work as my partner on the X-Files.  Her assignment was to 
debunk my work.  Although those words were never used, she knew that was 
what they wanted.  After meeting me, she was fascinated by my drive and 
passion for things I believed and she was sympathetic to the loss of my sister.  
And in the end she validated much of my work.  We later became friends, then 
confidantes, and later she fell in love with me but was afraid to ruin what we had, 
and so had kept her silence.

When it was my turn, I told about losing my sister, leaving out much of the 
paranormal details, figuring we didn't need to get into that here.  It was irrelevant 
as far as I was concerned.  I told of going to Oxford, being made a cuckhold by 
my first girlfriend, Phoebe, returning to the States and beginning a career in the 
FBI as a profiler.

I went on to talk briefly about discovering the X-Files and becoming obsessed, 
losing my friends and the respect of my co-workers, and chasing off about six 
partners before Scully came along.  She smiled at that little story of my devious 
tactics to freak them out and get them to leave.  I briefly mentioned my failed 
relationship with Diana, which made me gun shy about getting involved with 
anyone, let alone a female partner.

I told her honestly of my isolation and loneliness and how that ended when 
Scully came along. She was the first person to ever respect me and believe in 
me even though she didn't believe my theories.  An important distinction, that, 
because it was the first time I'd experienced a give and take relationship.  

I had never been close to someone that didn't believe the same things I did.  
Instead of dragging me down, it had broadened my horizons and made me more 
social.  Instead of ending my career, she had validated it and we became 
friends.  I honestly told of being fascinated with her, stumped at not being able to 
scare her away and later lusting for her body and then learning to love her for all 
her wonderful qualities.  I reiterated Scully's words, saying that I was afraid to 
lose what we had, and lived in fear of losing her or of her abandoning me.  
Especially after my mother died, she was all I had left. 

For the rest of the session, Dr. Brown talked about her psychological 
philosophies and her experience with victims and their families.  She told us of 
her goals where we were concerned which involved not just our becoming able 
to work in the Bureau as before, but of really returning us to a normal state of 
mental health where we could accept our trauma and move forward without 
being hampered by it in our personal lives as well.

We had both laughed at her when she talked about returning us to a normal 
state of mental health and joked that we had never been normal and didn't 
anticipate that ever being a problem for us.  She had laughed good-naturedly 
and qualified it by saying that she would have to accept returning us to a state of 
mental health that was normal for US.

We left having never discussed the incident or trauma that led us there.  We 
arrived home feeling relaxed and relieved about our first visit with Dr. Cecily 
Brown.  She had not been at all what we had expected.  Now, being a 
psychologist, I should have known not to make prejudgments.  But I was human 
and I was afraid.  I was afraid that Scully and I would never be the same again.  I 
was afraid that somewhere down the road, this event or the aftermath would tear 
us apart.  I wouldn't be able to accept that and live with it.  I knew it.  I needed 
her like air, and there was no way I could survive without her.  I needed to quell 
those fears of abandonment and fears that we would be torn apart.  That very 
fear could produce exactly what I was afraid of.

Knowing how screwed up I was and how badly I needed counseling did not, 
however, make me any more eager to go.  But after that first visit, I was more 
resigned and felt more at ease about it than I had initially.

Scully and I concurred.  Skinner had made a good choice for us.

XXXXXXXXXX
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN, D.C.
Later that night

We fell into bed naked, exhausted from the emotional turmoil of our first visit to 
the therapist.  We didn't talk much once in bed.  I kissed her tenderly and our 
kisses turned passionate.

I suckled her breasts and felt excitement growing inside me.  She caressed my 
back and kissed my neck as I settled between her thighs.  I was growing more 
anxious as I realized that I was not getting an erection.  I stopped kissing her and 
laid my forehead on the pillow next to her head.  

She sighed and said, "Relax, Mulder.  You're wound tighter than a spring."

I sighed.  "I'm sorry, Scully.  I don't know what's wrong with me."

"You're tired and worn out.  So am I.  It's no big deal."

I snorted, then felt tears sting my eyes.  She lifted my head and kissed me 
tenderly, whispering, "Roll onto your back."

I did, having no expectation of anything happening tonight.  I was crushed.  I 
wanted to make love to her so badly.  What the hell was my problem?  I could 
come up with a hundred clinical reasons, but emotionally, they all felt like cop-
outs.  I wasn't getting it up, and it was bothering the hell out of me.  Until now, 
this was at least one thing that had been right for us, despite the way we had 
come together initially.

Now, all of a sudden, I was having this problem more frequently.  That scared 
me too.  What if I couldn't make love to her anymore?  What if I became totally 
impotent.  I felt a wave of self-pity wash over me and tried to tamp it down.  That 
wasn't going to help anything.

She kissed my neck, running her hands up and down my arms.  She whispered, 
"Just lay there and relax.  Don't think about anything except the feel of my 
mouth and hands and body.  I'm doing this just to be affectionate and be close to 
you.  I don't care if we have sex tonight.  I really don't.  I just want to be close to 
you, that's all Mulder.  I want to do this for you."

I sighed and nodded.  She proceeded to kiss my chest, lingering on my nipples 
and running her fingers in a light touch over the sides of my rib cage.  I sighed 
and felt my groin tingle.  I didn't harden but I felt the tingle.   That was 
encouraging.  But the more I thought about it, the more the feeling faded away.  
I growled, "Shit," under my breath. 

She cooed to me.  "Stop it.  Relax.  This isn't about sex.  You've loved and 
worshipped me so many times.  Now it's your turn.  Just lay there and let me 
love you, all right?"

I sighed.  "O.K., I'm sorry, Scully."

"Quit apologizing.  Just enjoy my touch."

She slithered down my body and kissed my ribs and tongued my navel.  She 
avoided my flaccid penis and for that I was grateful.  Her hands never stopped 
caressing me, running up and down my legs, over my hips and up and down my 
arms.  After a couple minutes of this, I began to relax.  She worked her way 
down my legs, stroking and kissing, and sucked each toe into her mouth.  I 
moaned softly then, loving the feel of her warm, wet tongue on my feet.  She 
lapped at my instep and I chuckled as it tickled me.

I felt her lips smile against my foot and she began to work her way back up.  
When she reached the juncture of my thighs, I had a partial erection, laying 
against the crease at the top of my thigh.  I was far from hard, but it was 
something.  I ruthlessly diverted my attention from that, closing my eyes and 
concentrating on feeling her touch me.  It was good with my eyes closed.  I didn't 
know where she was going to touch next and the anticipation heightened my 
awareness of every touch.

Her hands slid up the inside of my thighs and spread my legs wide.  I put my feet 
on the bed, my thighs hanging open to the sides.  Her hands curled over my hips 
on the outside of my thighs and slid underneath me, cupping my ass.  She 
squeezed gently and licked the insides of my thighs.

She buried her nose behind my balls and I felt her strong, little tongue poke and 
lap at the area behind my balls.  I groaned as I felt a surge of blood into my 
groin.  She still ignored the state of my penis.  I was trying to but I was getting 
excited now and an incredible relief swept through me.  She pulled back slightly 
and carefully worked one testicle into her mouth, rolling it around in her mouth, 
using her tongue to move it this way and that.  She sucked gently and I croaked 
out, "Oh, Scully, yeah.  That feels so good."

She hummed and I felt the vibration travel through my balls and quiver around 
my anus and dart up my shaft, stiffening me a little more.  I was almost fully 
erect now.  I reached down to rub and caress her forearms where they lay 
alongside my hips, her hands still gripping my ass gently.  

I gasped as she slowly and carefully worked my other testicle into her mouth and 
sucked with just enough pressure to suck all my extra skin inside her mouth.  I 
groaned and opened my eyes to look.  Her cheeks were puffed out from 
accommodating both my testicles.  My entire ball sack was in her mouth.  She 
swirled her tongue around them and moaned, sending vibrations through me 
again.  

I felt another rush of blood in my groin and watched as my penis lifted off my leg 
and became fully erect.  She still ignored it and swooshed her tongue back and 
forth over my nuts until I was groaning in ecstasy.

Her right hand retracted from underneath me.  She slid it back,  and then up the 
inside of my thigh.  Her short fingernails scratched lightly in my pubic hair and I 
bucked my hips forward gently.  She moaned again and her tiny hand wrapped 
around the base of my cock.  

I felt some of my hardness dwindle, but rather than play with me like I thought 
she was going to, she merely lifted my shaft and pulled up slightly to keep it out 
of her way.  I felt her tongue stick out straight and slide along the bottom of my 
balls.  I moaned as it reached the skin between my balls and anus and she 
began stabbing at it gently with her tongue.  

I felt my groin twitching and moaned.  Each time she stabbed at the skin there, 
the flat of her tongue ran along the underside of my sack and caused ripples of 
pleasure to roll through my groin and travel up the shaft of my penis.

She breathed slowly through her nose and finally, she needed more air.  She 
pulled back slowly, constantly swirling her tongue around me and finally pursing 
her lips to tease the last of my skin as it slipped from her mouth.  

She whispered, "Should I continue or do you want to just cuddle?"

I croaked, "Please keep going.  Take me in your mouth, please, Scully."

She levered up on all fours and sank her mouth gently over my now rigid 
erection.  I moaned, delighted that I didn't shrink from the occasion.  No pun 
intended.

She began to bob up and down, sucking gently.  Her speed and suction both 
increased gradually.  She was taking her time.  Her hands roamed my hips and 
reached up to tweak my nipples, causing me grunt and thrust gently into her 
face.  She wrapped one hand around the base for balance and began sucking 
and bobbing up and down in earnest.  

I reached down to hold her hair out of her face, not guiding or directing in any 
way.

She began humming again and I felt my climax coming upon me finally.  She 
held my waist, her hands feeling hot on my skin and breathed slowly, taking me 
gently down her throat.

I groaned low in my throat and spasmed, feeling my orgasm begin.  She pulled 
back after the first jet of come down her throat.  She gagged slightly but then 
hummed again as I finished emptying myself into her in three more long, drawn 
out ejaculations.  The orgasm was not wrenching, but it was slow and satisfying.  
I collapsed back into the bed, feeling lassitude wash over me.  

I forced myself to move as soon as I was able.  If I laid there, I would fall asleep 
and I wanted to return the favor.  Scully crawled up next to me and we kissed.  I 
could taste the residue of myself in her mouth and was strangely not repulsed by 
it.  She rolled onto her side and curled into me.  

I said, "Your turn, Scully."

She shook her head in the negative.  "No, I don't want to.  Just sleep now."

I furrowed my brow and turned her face up to me.  "Are you sure?"

She nodded.  "I told you that was for you."

"I know, but that doesn't mean I can't return the favor."

She shook her head again.  "Not tonight.  I'll take a rain check though."

I smiled softly.  "You're on."

We were silent a moment and then she said, "Mulder, you know that no matter 
what happens, I love you."

"I know.  It doesn't make me feel better about myself though."

"I don't want you to worry about it.  I don't want you to worry that I will be upset or 
angry or frustrated or any of those things."

"Won't you?  If it keeps going this way?"

"No.  There's more than one way to skin a cat, Mulder.  I just proved that, in case 
you didn't notice.  And I really didn't intend to do that but it seemed all right."

"It was wonderful and you have to be the most generous woman on the planet."

She laughed softly and said, "I love you, Mulder."

"I love you too, Scully.  You know that.  That's why I don't ever want to 
disappoint you."

"You won't.  As long as you're with me, you won't.  If you isolate or pull away, 
that will hurt me and disappoint me.  I don't want you pretending there are other 
things wrong or starting a fight or something because you are afraid of what I will 
do or say, or because you're embarrassed."

"Have I done that?"

"Not yet, but most men do when faced with this type of setback."

"Setback?  You don't think it's a permanent problem?"

"No, I don't.  I'm surprised it hasn't happened before now.  You've been through 
so many traumas in your life, not just the most recent one.  And lord knows 
we've both been under incredible stress, dealing with nightmares and flashbacks.  
Jesus, Mulder, give yourself a damn break!  Please!  ALL men experience 
erection trouble at some point in their lives.  It's perfectly normal and it's rarely 
permanent unless there has been some medical trauma to the genitals."

I hugged her to me and kissed her again, a little more intently this time, but then 
settled in with her curled into my side, my arm draped under her neck and up 
over her shoulder.  I felt sleep stealing up on me and was surprised to realize I 
was going to sleep after all, despite my nerves.  Her reassurances relaxed me 
somewhat although I was still dubious.

I was the luckiest man alive.  I had Scully as my lover.  But she was so much 
more than that.  She was my true mate, my once in a  lifetime love.  And a more 
understanding woman, I was quite sure, did not exist.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mulder was asleep now and I was glad.  He was so exhausted.  His emotional 
turmoil was making him tired all the time.  I could relate.  Tonight, however, I 
wasn't quite ready to sleep and was enjoying just watching him slumber.

The lines of his face had gone soft in sleep, his long eyelashes shadowing his 
cheeks.  His thick chestnut hair fell across his forehead and I ran my fingers 
through it, delighting in the gentle hum that emerged from his throat.

He was such a beautiful, sensitive man.  Most women lamented their whole lives 
that they could never find a sensitive man.  I'd found one and wasn't entirely 
sure it was great thing.  It was, to a point.  But Mulder could be too sensitive, 
taking the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

I knew this problem he was experiencing lately was bothering him.  I was hoping 
that by not pushing and being as understanding as I could be, he would relax 
and return to his normal state of previous passion.  I wasn't lying though.  I really 
didn't care.  I had problems of my own, and although the sex had been great, it 
was far down my list of priorities.  I needed his affection and his love and 
understanding.  I wanted the sex, but it wasn't critical as long as I had the other 
things. Convincing him of that was another story.  

It did seem unusually cruel that we had finally discovered each other, spent a 
short month enjoying this new aspect of our relationship and we were already 
having trouble.  But it didn't really surprise me.  Mulder had more reasons than 
any man I knew to have problems in this area.  His past relationships had been 
nothing short of traumatic.  And it wasn't even as if he had the relationship of his 
parents to combat that.  They had been cold and distant when together, let alone 
after the divorce.

I settled down again, finally feeling droopy and fell into a light sleep, cuddling up 
to his side after kissing him gently on the cheek.  For the first time in a long time, 
I slept without nightmares.  I didn't even have a disturbing dream.  I'm not sure I 
dreamed at all.

XXXXXXXXXX

A.D. SKINNER'S OFFICE
HOOVER BUILDING
THIRD FLOOR
Early the next morning

Jenna Cassidy raised her eyebrows at me, waiting for my report.  I really didn't 
care for this woman but she was a Deputy Director in charge of this division.  I 
was just glad that Kirsch hadn't been assigned to cover this.

I wondered how little I could get away with telling her.  I wanted this to go well for 
Mulder and Scully and I knew that the less interference from the outside, the 
better.  I hoped Jenna would understand that.

I cleared my throat.  "I talked to Dr. Brown and she said the first session went 
well."

Jenna nodded.  "Did she say anything specific?"

'None of your business,' I thought, but firmly tamped down on my aggravation.

"Not really.  She did say, and I quote, 'Agents Mulder and Scully were friendly 
and forthcoming, displaying no signs of reluctance to speak about their lives in 
detail.'" I paused.  "I think that's a good sign, don't you?"

She nodded in the affirmative.  "Yes, I do.  Frankly, I'm surprised."

"Why?"

"They are always so tight lipped and isolate from the rest of Bureau."

"That's because of the work they do.  They can't afford to blab about it and no 
one would believe them anyway."  I looked pointedly at her, and she looked at 
her lap.  She knew I was referring to her own disbelief in much of the work they 
did in the past.

"I guess you have a point there."  She sighed.  "Tell me a little bit about them."

I frowned.  "Like what?" wishing I could have kept the irritation out of my voice.

She smiled a conciliatory smile.  "Nothing personal, Walter, just give me a brief 
synopsis of their relationship."

Everyone knew they were a couple now.  That was no secret.  There was no way 
to hide it after their marked change in behavior.  They had been the topic of 
much speculation at the water cooler during their absence.

"They are closer than any two people I have ever seen.  I've never witnessed a 
relationship so close."

"Explain that.  What do you mean?"

"They are 'in tune' with each other, for lack of a better word.  Have you ever met 
an old couple in their eighties that have been together for over 50 years?"

"A few."

"It's almost like that.  They can communicate with a look or a hand gesture."  
They finish each others' sentences.  And they ... seem to know what the other is 
thinking before they say anything.  They calm each other and balance each 
other out.  It's an amazing thing to watch them work together.  Although their 
belief systems are nearly diametrically opposed, they work like a well-oiled 
machine.  No hesitations, no questioning of the other's capabilities."

"You sound enamored of them," she said.  I tried to detect any note of censure in 
her voice, but found none.

"Envious is more the word to describe it."

"You envy them?"

"Not their current situation certainly.  But, yes, I envy them.  Don't we all wish for 
a relationship in which we can trust our partner implicitly and have no doubts 
about how they feel about us in return?"

She gave me an odd look and then joked, "Why, Walter, if I didn't know better, I 
might think you were turning into a romantic."

I smiled at her.  "Ah, Ms. Cassidy.  I've always been a romantic."

Another odd look came over her face.  "Really?  And I thought you were a tough 
guy."

"Are the two mutually exclusive?" I rejoined.

She smiled again then.  "I guess not."

"Are we finished here?"

"For now.  There's not much to discuss.  I'll visit every couple of weeks to get 
another report while the counseling is going on.  They know that they are being 
reported on?"

"Yes, but the most pertinent details are protected under patient/doctor 
confidentiality."

"I know that, Walter.  I don't want to pry.  If you must know the truth, they shook 
me up a couple of years ago.  I still remember Agent Scully saying, 'I don't 
believe the FBI currently has an investigative unit qualified to pursue the 
evidence in hand.'"

"I remember that hearing well."

"I couldn't admit it then.  But she was right.  Those two do a unique job here and 
I don't think there is anyone else that could take their place.  I'm on their side, 
Walter, no matter what you may have thought in the past."

"I'm glad to hear it."

She smiled and stuck out her hand.  I shook it and she turned to make her way 
to the door.  She turned before exiting and said, "I'm rooting for them."

With that, she turned on her heel and left. 

Well, I felt better.  She could be bullshitting me and I would still be very careful 
what I told her, but I felt more relieved than I was willing to admit.  I was afraid 
she was going to join the bandwagon that wanted these two agents out of the 
Bureau.  Only time would tell.



PART 3 (PG-13)
DR. CECILY BROWN'S OFFICE
WASHINGTON, D.C.
One Week Later

Mulder went in alone this time.  I was sitting in the waiting room, trying to read a 
novel and not having much success.  I stared at the page and tried again, 
reminding myself that he was just on the other side of the door.  I could do this.  

I read the words on the first page: 'Codependent/ko-di-pen-dent/n: a person who 
has let someone else's behavior affect him or her and is obsessed with 
controlling other people's behavior.'

Did that apply to us?  Did we wish to control each behavior?  I guess we did.  I 
knew I was a control freak from way back.  It had gotten me through medical 
school and the FBI academy.  It had given me the strength to stay on with 
Mulder when I thought the world was going crazy.  I'd wanted to make him see 
things my way.  I guess I still did sometimes although I respected his opinions 
whether I agreed with them or not.

I was a bit distressed sometimes at the willingness I felt to let him take care of 
me.  It was a total reversal of behavior for me, having been so independent and 
self-sufficient all my life.  I truly felt like I didn't care anymore sometimes.  I just 
wanted to be coddled and pampered once in a while.

Once in a while would be fine, to relieve the stress.  But I had to face it, I wanted 
it all the time.  I only felt safe when he was with me.  Of course, I realized the 
irony of this sentiment.  My association with Mulder had brought more danger 
and turmoil and grief into my life in a short six years than I had experienced in 
the entire time previous that I'd spent living my life.

It was a dichotomy for sure, a paradox.  But that was what Mulder was: a 
walking, talking paradox.  He was a kaleidoscope of moods and beliefs.  It was 
what I loved about him the most.  The fact that he was the complete opposite of 
me did not repel me.  Instead it had always fascinated and intrigued me.

I knew though, that we were headed for trouble if we didn't resolve some of 
these lingering traumatic effects.  Eventually, we wouldn't be enough for each 
other.  I snorted out loud, wondering how we could possibly be any MORE to 
each other than we were now.  Our very survival depended on one another more 
than it ever had.  But I knew that our relationship was unhealthy in several 
respects.  We could smother each other.  We needed to have some 
independence from one another, some sense of self. 

The line between us was becoming extremely blurry.  It was truly as if we were 
one unit, one person, one entity, incapable of operating independent of the 
other.  That was a bad thing.  Closeness, understanding, love and trust were 
vital to any relationship.  We had those in abundance.  But extremes in any 
direction were not good, and eventually eroded the unit you were trying to 
preserve.  People had to have some sense of who they were, alone, standing 
without other human beings.  

Being integrated and emotionally supportive was good.  Being stuck to each 
other and emotionally DEPENDENT was completely a different thing.  The 
distinction was often difficult to detect, but it was an important one.

I sighed and looked down at the book title again: "Codependent No More". By 
Melody Beattie.  I really should read this thing.  But right now I couldn't 
concentrate.  I wondered what he was saying in there.

XXXXXXXXXX

I sat nervously crossing and uncrossing my legs.  Dr. Brown eyed me with mild 
amusement and curiosity.

"So Fox, let's get started."

"Mulder."

"Excuse me?"

"Please call me Mulder.  No one calls me Fox.  I hate my name."

"Ah, is that why your partner calls you Mulder?"

"Yes, it's who we are, Mulder and Scully.  It started as a way to distance 
ourselves from one another and not get too close, you know.  But now, it's just 
who we are to one another.  Our Sir names carry more affection than our real 
names."

"She never calls you Fox and you never call her Dana?"

"Only when we really want to get each other's attention and nothing else is 
working!" I teased.

She smiled.  "All right then, Mulder, let's talk about that.  Why do you hate your 
name?"

I grinned at her.  "You're kidding, right?"

She smiled.  "No.  I think it's interesting and unique."

I chuffed out a breath and said, "Yeah, if you like being teased unmercifully."

"Were you, teased unmercifully?"

"In school, when I was younger, yes I was."

"What did they call you?"

"I was on the track team and they called me Running Fox.  When I was in the 
bathroom, they called me Stinky Fox, when I was trying to scam my way out of 
something, they called me Wily Fox.  The list goes on."

"Do you still carry a resentment over that?"

"Maybe.  I don't know.  I don't really think about it.  I just automatically ask 
people to call me Mulder."

"Do you understand the concept of resentment?"

I grinned at her.  "I am a psychologist myself, you know," I said flatly, slightly 
insulted and knowing I shouldn't be.

She nodded.  "I know that, but it's not something you've practiced a lot in the 
recent past."

"No, that's true.  I don't mean to sound snotty."

"So give me your definition of resentment."

"I take poison and hope that you die," I said tonelessly.

Her laughter tinkled out over the room as she threw her head back, totally 
amused.  She settled into a light chuckle and shook her head in amusement.  
"You are glib, aren't you?"

"Sometimes," I admitted.

"That's good.  I'll have to remember that definition.  I've never heard it put quite 
that way before."

"I use humor to deflect attention from things that I'm particularly guarded about," 
I blurted out.  At the same moment, I wondered why I admitted that to her.  It 
was a weapon that she could use against me to pry me open.  Subconsciously, I 
must want her to do just that.

She assumed a contemplative look.  "Ah, a secret," she teased.

I smiled at her.  "Where are we going with this, Dr. Brown?"

"Want to get right to the meat of things, do we?" she asked.  She used the WE 
pronoun, putting us in the same boat together, solving a puzzle together instead 
of putting herself up as the solver all by herself.  Very clever and classic.  

I grinned.  "I have to stop this running commentary in my head."

"About what?" she asked.

"Analyzing your technique.  I was just thinking that it was clever of you to use 
WE instead of YOU, when you spoke just now."

She smiled.  "Other doctors are the worst, aren't they?  We rarely take our own 
advice."

"Wait until you get together with Scully.  You think I'm bad, she'll blow your 
mind."

"How so?"

"She's very intelligent and very quick to analyze things that don't make sense 
logically."

"Not so good at emotions, huh?" she asked, hitting the nail on the head.

"She's better now."

"But we're not here to talk about Agent Scully.  We're here to talk about you."

"I knew you'd get back to that."

She grinned.  "O.K., Mr. 'I know everything you're trying to do'," she said, 
pausing.  "Let's cut to the chase.  Why did the Bureau send you here?"

"You know why."

"Not an answer.  A cop out.  I want to hear it from your perspective and you 
know that's what I'm asking."

Ooo, she was going all tough on me now.  I smiled at her.  Damn, I liked her.  I 
wasn't going to be able to fake her out.  "You know what sucks the most about 
being a psychologist?"

"What?  Please enlighten me," she stated flatly, clearly enjoying herself.

I grinned.  "When you experience a trauma, you know exactly what's happening 
to you.  You ascribe every sign and symptom that you've ever read about to 
yourself and it's easy to convince yourself that you are completely crazy.  I've 
done it more than once during the course of my life.  I KNOW exactly how 
screwed up I am.  Ain't that a bitch?"

She smiled softly.

I continued.  "The sucky part is that I KNOW I can't fix it myself, but I keep 
thinking I should be able to."

"Because you're a psychologist."

"Yes, and I think I should be able to fix Scully, too."

"You can't fix anybody, least of all yourself, or a loved one."

"I know that too."

She nodded.  "You need to take off your Mr. Fix It hat, and just be a human 
being for once."

"Easier said than done."

"Yes, but easier if you focus on your feelings, rather than your intellect."

"But it hurts."

"To focus on your feelings?" she asked.

"Yes."

She nodded again.  I didn't know if we were getting anywhere, but I liked that she 
wasn't annoyed by these tangents that we seemed to go off on.

"So what symptoms are you experiencing?"

"Guilt, remorse that I couldn't protect her.  Horror at the way she found out how I 
felt about her.  Disgust that I was able to be excited sexually under those 
circumstances.  Delighted at my new relationship with Scully, at the same time, 
not feeling that I deserve it.  And the worst, lately ..." I trailed off.

"Go on," she urged quietly.

"I've been experiencing episodes of ... impotence."

She was quiet for a moment and then said, "You're taking responsibility for the 
actions of a madman and beating yourself up because you were afraid to tell her 
how you felt beforehand?"

"I don't know.  I know that I feel guilty all the time."

"About what?  That it took a trauma to tell her how you felt about her?"

"Maybe."

"It sounds like you're afraid of disappointing her or letting her down."

"Always.  I don't deserve her."

"So you're creating the very situation that will do just that ... in your mind 
anyway."

I raised my eyebrows at her and said, "Damn, you're good."

She laughed silently again.  "Classic sabotage.  I think we can do something 
about all these things."

"You do, huh?  Pretty confident, are WE?"

She laughed outright again.  "Oh, you are going to be difficult aren't you?"

"I'll try my best."

"Knock it off.  You're no match for me, Agent Mulder."

"Don't think so?"

"I know so.  I've got you pegged already."

"Think so?"

"You bet.  You're toast."

I smiled at her.  "O.K., psychologist extraordinnaire.  Where do you want to 
start?"

"Let's start with Kramer Spinks, the catalyst for all this.  Tell me about your 
profile and the trial."

And so it begins, I thought.

XXXXXXXXXX

"How are you today, Agent Scully?"

"O.K."

"Good, are you all right being here with me alone?"

"Yes, I don't feel ... anxious."

"Good, is that because I'm a woman?"

"Maybe, I don't know.  You seem gentle and understanding."

"And that's what you need?"

"To be honest, I don't have a clue what I need."

"Is that true?"

I looked at her and said, "I have some ideas, but I know it's the worst kind of 
arrogance to self diagnose."

"Yet that's what you have been doing, isn't it?"  Dr. Brown asked.

I sighed.  "I guess so.  I mean, intellectually, I know all about posttraumatic 
stress syndrome, separation anxiety, co-dependence.  But it all seems trite when 
one focuses on the actual feelings."

"Ah, so you've already come up with three diagnoses and removed yourself from 
identification with them by referring to 'ONE', putting yourself in the third 
person."

I gave her a dirty look.  "Meaning?"

"That's called disassociating, Dana."

"Don't analyze me!" I shouted, realizing immediately how stupid that was to say.

She raised her eyebrows.  "Sorry, that's my job, Agent Scully."

I deflated.  "Sorry, I ... you know, I say that to Mulder all the time."

"What?  Tell him not to analyze you?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Does he do it often?"

"Only when he thinks I'm upset.  He immediately starts providing excuses for me 
and why I feel that way and attempts to make me feel all right about it."

"But you don't."

"Not usually."

"Why not?"

"I don't like to let other people see me emotional."

"Why is that?"

"Isn't is obvious?"

"No.  I can't read your mind, Agent Scully.  You're going to have to help me out 
some.  My telepathy skills are at an all time low," she teased.

I barked out a laugh in spite of myself.  God, I wanted to dislike this woman.  I 
wanted to find some reason why I couldn't continue seeing her.  But she was 
going to make that difficult.  I realized what I was doing and kicked myself 
mentally.  I needed to be here.  Mulder was just in the other room.  And I 
realized for the first time in a long time, I hadn't thought about the fact that he 
wasn't there beside me.  I hadn't given it a thought since I first walked in.

"I get embarrassed and afraid."

"Embarrassed I understand.  Why would you be afraid?" she asked, genuinely 
curious.

"My job is a good old boys network."

"Ah, I get it now."

"The display of anything remotely feminine, like an emotion, heaven forbid, is 
grounds for being declared incompetent."

"Do you think Mulder will think you are incapable or incompetent."

"Oddly, no, I don't.  I know he respects me and doesn't think less of me if I ... 
break down or get upset.  He understands that I'm human and it doesn't reflect 
on my ability to do my job.  But still ..."

"Still?" she prompted.

"Maybe it's because it's such a habit from medical school on through the 
academy and into my career, I react the same."

"The same to Mulder as to everyone else in your life?"

"God no!  Mulder knows me better than anyone else in the world."

"But your reactions to displaying emotions; you react the same way in front of 
Agent Mulder as you do in front of everyone else?"

I thought about for a minute and then said, "Yes, most of the time."

"Do you think it's a reflex action."

"Yes, I do.  And I think it hurts him."

She nodded.  "Probably does.  He's a sensitive man.  And you are the center of 
his universe."

I smiled.  "Does it make me a bad person to enjoy that position in his life."

"No, but it can lead to a lack of communication and dishonesty."

"How so?" I asked, totally confused now.

"When we focus on one thing, or one person to the exclusion of all else, we wrap 
up our own self worth in the reactions and behavior of that other person.  There 
are a few things at work here.  The most obvious is that we cannot be objective 
about someone we love.  We are emotionally invested in the outcome.  We can't 
possibly be objective.  The dishonesty part comes in when we are afraid to tell 
the loved one what they don't want to hear.  We don't say it or we bend it and 
couch it in pretty terms because of fear that we will damage the relationship if we 
are one hundred percent honest."

I sighed, chewing on that for a while.  "I never thought of it that way."

"Agent Mulder loves and adores you.  He feels enormous guilt over what's 
happened and feels responsible for your well being now.  He automatically tries 
to make you feel adequate and guilt free, and happy whenever you show signs 
of being upset for any reason.    He lives to make you happy.  He also is ... well, 
he's probably nearly incapable of telling you something he knows you won't want 
to hear."

"Meaning if I'm displaying undesirable behavior?"

"Exactly."

"So he will lie to me?" I asked, feeling despair wash over me in a wave.  No!  
Not Mulder.  He would never lie to me!

She said, "No, he won't lie.  You know each other too well.  But he may lie by 
omission.  He may withhold his opinion, or NOT tell you something because he 
fears it will hurt your feelings."

I grunted, thinking about that again.  I'll be she was right.  "And you think I do the 
same thing with him?"

"Probably.  I don't know.  Do you?" 

"Don't answer my question with a question," I said testily.

She smiled.  "I was warned you would be difficult."

"By whom?"

"Agent Mulder."

"He said I would be difficult?"

"He said you were tough and wouldn't take any crap, or something to that effect."  
She paused.  "I asked the question, not to be contrary, but because I really don't 
know.  We haven't talked enough yet for me to have examples of your behavior 
to examine."

"I can appreciate that."

"Do you?  Or are you just trying to appease me?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Stop avoiding answering the question."

"What was the question?" I asked.

She just stared at me, not answering.  Oh God, this woman was tough.  I might 
no take any patronizing or any shit, but neither did she.  She was smart.  I 
realized I'd better lose the attitude with her or we weren't going to get anywhere.

I swallowed with difficulty.  "I'm sorry," I apologized.  "I know I'm being rude.  I'm 
just afraid."

"Don't worry about it.  It's your dime.  And I get paid to listen to anything you say.  
But I won't be insulted either, Agent Scully.  I'm on your side.  I'm here to help 
you.  I want to make you well both professionally AND personally.  I can't do that 
without your cooperation.  I'm not out to get you or make you feel stupid.  But I 
can't work with no information either.  Now, I will ask questions.  If I ask, it's 
because I don't know, not because I'm trying to get a rise out of you.  I'm not that 
petty.  I don't have time for it.  But if you don't talk to me, I can't help you.  If you 
lie to me, I can't help you."

She ended this little speech and sat starting at me.  The silence stretched into a 
minute and then finally she said, "Now, answer the question.  Are you afraid to 
tell Agent Mulder things he doesn't want to hear?"

"Yes," I whispered.  I cleared my throat.  "Not professionally.  I tear apart his 
theories all the time.  But personally,  I ... NEED him so much, that I don't want 
to do anything to hurt this newfound ... closeness that we've developed.  In the 
past, he has displayed a tendency to retreat into his shell if he thinks I'm upset 
with him, or he has hurt me in any way.  I don't want that.  At this time, it's more 
than that.  I'll go nuts if he retreats on my me now."

She nodded.  "That's better.  That gives me something to work with.  That was 
very good.  When I ask a question, I want you to feel free to not only answer the 
immediate question, but to expound on it.  This isn't the witness stand, Agent 
Scully.  I want you to volunteer information."

I smiled at that.  She really did have a way with words.  Like Mulder, she had a 
million and one metaphors.  I liked her, in spite of my desire not to.  I began to 
relax, realizing she was straight shooter.  She was not going to try and trick 
information out of me.  But she was frank about her inability to help me if I didn't 
give her that information that she sought.

"I'll try to be as cooperative as I can.  This is ... hard for me."

"I know it is.  Don't think I don't understand that.  I've worked with a lot of people 
who were the victims of violent crimes."

Despite my new resolve, I felt a flash of anger.  "How could you understand?!" I 
nearly shouted.  "How the HELL could you possibly understand what it's like to 
have a gun to your head?  To have your partner FORCED to have sex with you?  
That it took something like THAT for you find out he was in love with you?  How 
could you possibly fucking know what it's like to have that fucking animals hands 
on my body - feeling like I was going to be sick, thinking I was going to die!  
Damn you people, all of you!  Nobody understands that unless they've been 
there!  NOBODY!"  I was shrieking by the end of my little tirade and shaking, 
holding my arms around my ribs and rocking back and forth, breathing heavily 
and trying to get myself under control.  

I felt my eyes sting with traitorous tears and blinked rapidly trying to dispel them.  
She was absolutely silent, not responding, and waiting patiently for me to 
recover.  I felt myself return to some semblance of normalcy. I risked a glance at 
her and she was sitting calmly, waiting for me to regain control.  She picked up a 
box of tissues from the edge of her desk and handed them to me.  I blew my 
nose nosily, and wadded the tissue up in my hand.

 I sat wide eyed as she began to speak, wondering if I had destroyed our ability 
to work together because of my outburst.  If I had, it would confirm every fear I 
had about my emotions ruining my life.

She swallowed and began to speak, "Agent Scully, you have every right to be 
angry.  Why do you feel that you're not entitled?"

"My control over my emotions has always been my ... armor against the world, I 
guess.  My whole personality and mode of behavior is built around it since I was 
a little girl.  I was a Navy brat and I learned not to form attachments and to guard 
my heart against being hurt ... and to hide any extreme emotions.  I knew if I let 
them go, they would take me over.  I felt like if I started crying ... I might never 
stop.  I think maybe I still feel that way.  I'm afraid that I'm never going to be the 
strong, confident woman that I was before.  And I need that to survive at my 
job."

"Agent Scully, you can survive violent crime and go on to live a normal, happy 
life.  The trick is to stop trying to go back to the person you WERE.  That won't 
happen.  You're life and perceptions have been altered because of this 
horrendous experience.  What we want to do is work on helping you to process 
this information and put it in a new perspective that you can live with.  I want to 
help you become a NEW woman, not the old one."

I smiled sadly.  "Hoo boy, I really have to get a grip, don't I?" 

She smiled.  "It's all right.  You need to let that stuff out or it will consume you 
from the inside out.  You're human, Agent Scully and you need to allow yourself 
to be human.  It's all right to cry and rant and rave, just like the rest of the world.  
I was surprised actually.  I wasn't sure you had it in you to let go like that."

I chuckled mirthlessly.  "I didn't either."

We both smiled then.  "Can we work together, Agent Scully.  Do I pass your 
tests?" she asked ironically.

I blushed, feeling incredibly embarrassed.  I nodded briskly.  "Yes, and again, I'm 
sorry."

"No apology necessary.  Let's just move past that and get to what's important 
here, YOUR experience."

"Where do we start?"

"Tell me about what happened ... from the very beginning ... from the first 
phone call."

I nodded and took a deep breath.  "The phone rang and I listened to Mulder 
talking to our A.D.  I knew instantly something was very wrong."


PART 4 (NC-17)
A.D. SKINNER'S OFFICE
HOOVER BUILDING
Three Months Later

Skinner looked up from Dr. Cecily Brown's report and smiled.  "Says here you 
are progressing well.  I'm proud of you two."

We both smiled, unreasonably happy to receive that little bit of praise.  "She has 
released you for work, but only here in the office."

We nodded, having been told by Dr. Brown ahead of time.  "We understand."

"She recommends that you continue therapy together and separately.  Says that 
you are making great strides but does not feel you are ready for fieldwork yet.  
She will make another evaluation on that status three months from now."

We both nodded again.  "Anything to say Agents?"

Mulder said, "I just wanted to thank you for your understanding and support, Sir.  
If I haven't said it before, I really do appreciate it."

Skinner looked surprised at this admission but smiled gamely and said, "Thanks 
for telling me that, Mulder.  You're welcome.  I've always been on your side, you 
know?"

Mulder nodded.  "Thanks."

"No problem."

"Ditto," I said.

He smiled at me.  "Well Agents, guess what?"

We both looked at him expectantly.  "I have a case for you."

"You do?!" I asked.  "Already?"

He grinned.  "Yes, it's one that VCS is working on."

Mulder frowned.  Skinner quickly cut in.  "No, Mulder, I am not asking you to 
profile."

I saw Mulder let out a breath he was holding.  "Agent Scully, it has been 
requested that you review the results of two autopsies and add your comments.  
There is a third victim due to be autopsied tomorrow.  I would like you to assist 
Dr. Terry Gravel in performing that autopsy.  You are to submit separate 
reports."

"Yes, sir," I replied, smiling, happy to be back in the game, even if it was in the 
autopsy bay.

Mulder asked, "And me?"

Skinner smiled.  "I would like you to assist Dr. Gravel's partner, Carrie Shell in 
cross referencing all the information on this guy so far with our data base, 
looking for matches in MO, signature, choice of weapon ... anything.  We need 
this guy.  He's escalating."

Mulder nodded, looking relieved to be in on the assignment.  I was afraid he 
would be disappointed or insulted at being given that type of gumshoe, grunt 
work, but he looked relieved and excited.  "Can we read the file?" Mulder asked.

"Certainly," Skinner replied, closing the folder and handing it to Mulder over his 
desk.  "O.K., take the rest of the day to reacquaint yourselves with the file and 
then report to Agents Gravel and Shell tomorrow at 9:00 in the autopsy bay.  
You'll go from there."

"Thank you, Sir," I said.

"You're dismissed."

We stood, smiling at each other, amused that we were happy to hear those 
words again, 'You're dismissed.'  We exited the office, feeling lighter than we 
had in months.

We had both made great strides, as Dr. Brown had said, but we were far from 
cured. We would probably never be totally cured, but we were getting better 
every day.  Mulder still stayed with me, but we could leave each other now.  It 
had started with small trips.  I would go to the corner bakery and get breakfast 
for us.  The first few times I did good on the way out, but would then run all the 
way back to the apartment, arriving a block later, out of breath and shaking.  I 
had no troubles now.

Mulder could go grocery shopping without me and I didn't panic.  I still locked all 
the doors and windows, double and triple checking everything, but I was all right 
with him being gone for short periods of time.  If we were in the same building, 
we could be separated for hours without incident.  He had taken up the habit of 
going down to the lobby of my building where there was a common room with 
couches and spending an afternoon reading books or the newspaper while I 
stayed upstairs and did housework or other chores.  The times we could be apart 
were expanding and we were both breathing easier.

Mulder had gone to a urologist just to make sure there was nothing wrong 
physically with his genitals.  He was given a clean bill of health.  The doctor was 
terrific and gave us a series of exercises to do together that gradually increased 
our trust in each others' reactions and reduced his fear of failure.  

He was progressing nicely and we had made love once a week for the last 
month.  The other nights, we made no attempt to have sex and merely did our 
exercises and cuddled up, sleeping wound around each other in contentment.

My nightmares still occurred, but with less frequency and less intensity.  I no 
longer dreamed of Mulder being killed.  I did dream still of being restrained by 
unseen hands.  But I was getting better.  The dreams would wake me up, but I 
didn't wake up screaming anymore.  We'd made a pact, and I'd promised to 
wake him up whenever I had a bad dream and not try to ride it out by myself.  I 
hated to wake him up when he was sleeping, as he'd always had trouble sleeping 
anyway.  But I'd promised and I had kept that promise. 

It eased his mind and he said it made it easier for him to sleep if he didn't have 
to worry about being alert for me, knowing I would wake him up if I needed him.  
So it went.  We gradually overcame our fears one by one.  We were confident 
that we would return to a semblance of normalcy.  Since we hadn't been in a 
romantic relationship before, that aspect of it we would have to play by ear.  We 
would have to develop that part separately from the rest.  However, it was all 
related.  Becoming healthy in other ways would go a long way toward ensuring a 
happy and healthy romantic relationship.

XXXXXXXXXX
VIOLENT CRIMES SECTION
HOOVER BUILDING
FOURTH FLOOR

We worked all day the next day ... apart.  Scully was in the autopsy bay there at 
the building, rather than at Quantico.  It was small but as well equipped as 
Quantico.  Quantico boasted 20 bays, Hoover only had two, but everything they 
needed was at their disposal.  I supposed that Agents Gravel and Shell had been 
apprised of our unique situation.  For when I asked her if I could take a break for 
twenty minutes or so, she'd smiled knowingly and nodded her head, saying, 
"Take your time."

I'd gone to the autopsy bay around noon and found Scully and Tommy Gravel 
taking a break.  Her smile had lit up the scrub room when I entered.  I took her 
hands in mine and asked her, "How's it going?"

She'd beamed me a toothy smile and said, "Wonderful, everything's O.K.  Agent 
Gravel is a great pathologist."  I'd felt a stab of something, maybe fear, maybe 
jealousy, but tamped it down.  I knew Scully belonged to me.  She needed me as 
much as I needed her.  There was no reason to fear her spending the day with 
another doctor, male or not.  Gravel had discreetly left the room, giving us some 
privacy.  I'd kissed her gently and asked her again if she was really all right.

She'd chucked me on the shoulder and replied, "Yes, you worry wart, I'm really 
fine."

We'd grinned and made plans to meet in the office at 5:00 PM and ride home 
together.  I left her feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the rest of my day.  
Except for that one brief visit, we hadn't seen each other all day and it had been 
all right.  I'd had no panic attacks, just that one vague sense of disquiet that went 
away when I'd visited her before lunch.

On the ride home, we'd exchanged stories of our day.  God, we seemed like an 
old married couple and the thought made me smile.  "What are you grinning 
about?"

I glanced at her and then back at the road.  "I don't know.  I was just thinking that 
it's nice to just share the events of our day together on the way home.  It's 
something couples ... married people do."

She'd gone quiet and I looked at her anxiously when I stopped at a light.  "Did I 
say something wrong?" I asked.

She shook her head then looked at me, slightly flushed.  "No, it was a ... nice 
thing to say.  I like it too."

"Good to be back in the saddle again?" I asked, changing the subject.

She grinned and I looked back at the road as I pulled into traffic.  "Yes, it felt 
good to do a days work for a change and shut my brain off.  Not about the work, 
but to stop thinking about myself constantly was almost a relief."

"I know what you mean.  I got totally engrossed in what I was doing.  I used to 
hate that type of work.  It's tedious and methodical."

"Yeah, and I'm the methodical one, right?"

We'd laughed at that.  "Usually, but it was good to just feel useful and I really 
tried to put my all into it.  I think Agent Shell was pleased to have the help."

"I'm sure she was,"  she replied.

I detected a funny note in her voice.  I pulled up to the curb of her building and 
shut off the car.  I turned to face her on the seat and she did the same.  "Scully, 
is something wrong?"

"No, why would anything be wrong?"

"The way you said that, it sounded like ... I don't know, like you were worried 
about me working with Agent Shell."

She looked out the windshield and then back at me.  "I'm being silly."

I replied, "Yes, you are.  I have no interest in Agent Shell, or any other woman 
for that matter.  You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, I do.  I guess I sometimes still have that old fear come back."

"What fear?"  We never used to talk like this, about our feelings and fears.  It 
was a whole new dimension of intimacy that we were experiencing.  I found that 
I liked it a lot, being able to express my feelings without fear of reprisal or 
abandonment.  Dr. Brown had taught us well.  I didn't think our communication 
could get much better.  I was so wrong.  I hadn't realized how much we 
suppressed until we had gone through our sessions with Dr. Brown.

"The fear that you would find someone else and I would be pushed out of your 
life."

I must have looked as bewildered as I sounded.  "Are you kidding?   Scully, you 
never told me that!  What would have ever made you fear that?"

She looked at me shyly.  "You're a total dish, Mulder."

I laughed out loud then.  "You're crazy, but I love you anyway.  Glad you think 
so."

"I mean it," she said, going all serious on me.  "You are an incredibly handsome 
and sexy man.  Women used to, still do, look at you all the time.  If they didn't 
have lips to close, they'd all be drooling."

I laughed even harder now, holding my stomach and trying not to bellow.  She 
smiled wide, amused at my reaction.  "You're a trip, Scully.  And you have a 
wonderful imagination."

She grinned.  "No,  I don't.  It's true.  You're just so unaware of what's going on 
around you so often, that you don't even notice.  I didn't want you to notice, so I 
never chose to enlighten you.  I probably shouldn't have now, either."

I slid out of the car and went around to open her door.  She stepped out and I 
embraced her, leaning her gently against the car.  "I don't think your correct, 
Scully, but even if you were, you have NOTHING to ever worry about in that 
department.  I only have eyes for you, and you know it.  For the rest of my life ... 
you're IT, Scully.  You're the only woman for me.  I won't even consider anyone 
else."

She smiled then and cupped the back of my neck, pulling me down for a kiss.  
Just before our lips touched, she said, "Good answer."

One of her neighbors walked by muttering, "Get a room, sheesh."

We broke away and laughed, holding hands and entering the building.

XXXXXXXXXX
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN, D.C.

We ate dinner and then made out on the couch for about fifteen minutes.  I 
couldn't get enough of kissing Mulder.  Those lips were a constant source of 
fascination for me.  He was clearly still amused by my attraction to his lips.  I 
never heard any complaints though!

It was not "date night" and so I resigned myself to cuddling even though my 
arousal was climbing.  I pulled away and sat apart, catching my breath.  I didn't 
want to get so excited that I would be frustrated.

He surprised me when he stood up and took my hand, tugging gently.  I followed 
him as he headed for the bedroom.  "Mulder?"

"Mmm?" he responded vaguely.

Once inside, he turned to face me and bent down to kiss me.  His kisses became 
passionate and when his thumbs brushed over both my nipples simultaneously, I 
felt my knees buckle and warmth flood my abdomen and dampen my crotch.  I 
moaned into his mouth as he moved quickly to band his arms around my back 
and steady me against him.

I panted out, "Mulder, it's not ... date ... night."  That was the term we used for 
the night we reserved for having sex.

He muttered, "Fuck date night, I want you now."

My whole body shuddered.  "Are you sure?" I squeaked out.  

He pulled his shirt off and yanked his slacks and boxers down, toeing off his 
shoes and socks and then ridding himself of the offending clothing.   He stood up 
and stared at me.  I looked down to find his penis standing hard and erect, 
bobbing gently in the air.

I felt another rush of arousal and my nipples tingled.  "Oh God," I  said, my voice 
low and husky with excitement.

He smiled, reaching for me and pulling off my crew neck blouse and helping me 
to shed the rest of my clothes. When we were naked, he grabbed me up under 
my thighs and lifted me against him.  I squealed in surprise and wrapped my 
legs around his waist.

He surprised me again when he didn't place me on the bed.  Instead, he walked 
to the bedroom door, bumping it with his elbow and slamming it shut.  "Mulder?" 
I asked in confusion, thinking he would now return to the bed.

He didn't answer me and instead, pressed me gently against the door, hitching 
me up higher with his arms under my ass.  I gasped and he swooped down, 
covering my mouth with his own.  My hands wrapped around his shoulders for 
support and I could feel his heavy, hard erection poking at my entrance.  I 
moaned and he broke the kiss, asking, "This O.K.?"

I nodded, unable to talk.  He braced himself, widening his stance slightly and 
loosened his hold, my weight sinking down over his cock.  He thrust up at the 
same time and I cried out at the sudden incredible fullness that made my pelvis 
ache and throb.  He stopped , breathing hard and waited, enjoying the 
penetration.  

His hands slid up from my back, palm down on the door and slid up under my 
armpits.  He laid his forearms on the door, my armpits resting in the crook of his 
elbow.  He whispered, "Hang on, Scully."

He began thrusting up hard and fast into me.  I cried out again as I felt my clit 
brushed by his pubic bone with every thrust.  My heels pressed into his rear end, 
urging him on and trying to pull him as deep as he would go.  My voice was 
ragged and disjointed as I mumbled, "Oh Mulder ... God ... so good ... so full ... 
feels so good ... oh fuck me ... just fuck me ... oh God, I love you."

He growled and began to pound me without mercy.  I could barely feel my back 
sliding on the door then sliding down as he retreated and my armpits catching on 
his arms, holding me up.  I could feel my turgid nipples being tortured by his 
wiry chest hair each time his chest slid over mine with each thrust.

He was keeping his chest close to mine.  I could hear the door jarring in it's 
frame, clunk, clunk, clunk, as he continued to jam his engorged cock inside me, 
pressing my walls aside and slamming into my cervix, causing me to wince and 
then burn with excitement.  

I muttered, "So close ... ah baby ... I'm so close."

He choked out through clenched teeth, "Yeah, Scully,  Oh Jesus ... you feel so 
fucking good.  Oh God, so hot ... we're so hot together.  Come for me, baby ...  
Come on, come for me.  Damn, you're so tight ... always so fucking tight."

His scratchy baritone rumbled into my ear and washed over me.  I tipped my 
hips forward, crushing my clit between us on the next hard, deep stroke and I felt 
my orgasm wash over me, flowing through my body like waves.

"Mmuullddeerr!  Oh yes, oh I'm coming, baby!  Oh yeah, oh yeah ... Come With 
Me!" I shouted.

He howled and threw his head back, eyes clenched tight, and thrust into me 
brutally.  I leaned over with the last of my energy and bit him on the neck.  He 
exploded inside me, screaming, "Ooohhh!  Ooohhh!  Scully!  Oh Christ, Oh 
yeah, oh bite me!"

I bit down again, feeling his hot semen splash my insides and cascade warmth 
through my tunnel as I felt his cock jerk, stiffen and spill into me over and over. 
We both said in unison, "Whoa!" as his knees buckled and he sank to the 
ground, still firmly embedded inside me.  

We chuckled and I rested my head against the door as he squatted on his knees.  
He panted gently and said, "We are not as young as we used to be."

We laughed gently and he extricated himself from me with a groan.  I hissed at 
the feeling of him sliding out across my sensitive inner walls.  We stood up, 
joints creaking and chuckling at each other.  I grabbed some tissues and we 
cleaned up briefly then headed for the shower.  Once scrubbed, we stumbled out 
to bed and crawled in even though it was early.

We didn't say anything for a long time, just laying facing each other and smiling 
goofily at each other in the dying light.  Finally he said, "I love you so much, 
Scully."

"I love you too, Mulder.  That was quite a performance tonight."

He grinned.  "I couldn't wait for date night."

"I'm glad."

He nodded.  "Do you want to abolish date night?"

I shook my head.  "No, let's not tempt fate.  I think it's still too soon."

He frowned.  "But ..."

I cupped his face in my hands.  "I don't mean anything by that, Mulder.  I just 
mean, why not keep it?  If we want to do something else in between, nothing says we 
can't, just like tonight, but we should still continue with our exercises and not 
abandon everything just because we're having success here."

He frowned again.  "You think my success is temporary?"

I sighed in an exasperated fashion.  "No!  And it's OUR success, not just yours, 
Mulder.  I just think that we'd do ourselves a disservice to abandon the thing that 
restored this part of our relationship, that's all."

He sighed.  "You're right.  I'm sorry.  I guess I'm still sensitive about it."

"You KNOW I don't hold it against you."

"I know.  But I hold it against me."

"Well stop it.  After all, you just fucked my brains out against a door.  I don't see 
anything to be morose about."

He laughed then.  "I did, didn't I?" he quipped.

"You certainly did you big stud."

 He laughed harder and rolled on top of me, pinning my hands by my head.  "I 
wondered if we would ever get to this place again.  I love making  love to you.  I 
want to be doing it when we're eighty."

It was my turn to laugh.  "Think you'll be able to still bang me when you're 
eighty?" I teased.

"Use it or lose it, they say."

"Ah, so I have to keep you using it, is that what you're saying?"

"Indeed.  That's your job from now on, to make sure it doesn't fall into disuse."

I laughed.  "Don't think that will be a problem."

He sobered and said, "We're going to be all right aren't we, Scully?"

I smiled softly, "Yes, we are.  It's just another miracle in a long line of miracles."

"You on a miracle kick again?  Why does everything have to be a miracle.  
We've worked hard to get where we are."

"Yes we have, but I think God gave us the strength and motivation to do the 
footwork."

"You could be on to something there," he teased.

"I love you so much, Mulder.  I didn't know it was possible to love like this."

"You still love me, huh?" he teased.

"Yes, I do.  I have no idea why," I deadpanned.

He laughed and then blurted out, "Miracles never cease."

Then he kissed me, and kissed me, and kissed me.  We made out until we were 
both too tired to keep at it and then fell asleep curled around one another.

Tomorrow was another day in the saddle, but for the first time in a long time, I 
went to sleep without fear and looking forward to the next day.

THE END.

--Whew!  Another tough one!  Man, oh, man.  Hope this fits the bill!