From: <virtuesandvices@aol.com>
To: <XFilesNC17ff@yahoogroups.com>
Subject: [XFNC17ff] Flight 814(1/4)by Virtie
Date: Thursday, January 31, 2002 6:53 PM

TITLE: Flight 814
AUTHOR: Virtie
E-MAIL: virtuesandvices@aol.com
WEB SITE: http://geocities.com/fanficcorner/
RATING: NC-17
CATEGORY: TRA - Adventure/Romance/Angst
CLASSIFICATION: MSR, Adventure
SPOILERS: Anything up to Season 7 is fair game!
ARCHIVE: Please! Just let me know first!
SUMMARY: Just one of the many plane flights Mulder
and Scully have had in their years of
investigating the X-Files. Yeah, right!
DISCLAIMERS: Don't own them (wish I did). Not
making any money off them (wish I was).
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Several bits of dialog in this
story are stolen, but I will be honest enough to
thank the person I stole them from! So thank you
Cathryn Michon, who wrote the teleplay to the
'China Beach' episode "I Could Have Danced All
Night...But Didn't", from which I stole the
lines. And to Dana Delany and Robert Picardo, the
actors who played best friends in love. They, like
Mulder and Scully, rarely got a chance to follow
their hearts. Well, I'm giving M&S that chance
right now!

**************************************************

FLIGHT 814

Denver International Airport
Gate 38, Concourse B
12:35 P.M.

Scully sat, legs crossed at the knee, reading a
paperback novel. She was trying hard to keep
interested in the story, but her mind kept
drifting, and her attention often fell upon the
watch on her right wrist. Their flight boarded at
12:50. And Mulder still hadn't shown up. She
sighed heavily, knowing she wasn't going to be
able concentrate until she was aboard the plane,
and stuck her bookmark roughly inside the book.
She reached down and put it in her carry-on, then
leaned back, consciously not looking at her watch.

Mulder had sent her on ahead of him an hour ago,
and she had agreed with only a little hesitation
as he told her he wanted to talk to the arresting
officer once more before they left; he still
wasn't convinced the Denver Police had caught the
right guy. Scully, as well as the Denver PD, felt
they had. Richard Shayne had practically admitted
to killing his wife. So what if there was no
physical proof? They would get a full confession
soon. It was only a matter of time. The FBI's
presence in the case was no longer required.

But she knew Mulder didn't believe Shayne had done
it. He was still convinced that the evidence
pointed to a supernatural power. A poltergeist of
some kind. Or an old fashioned ghost. Mulder
wasn't sure the real killer COULD be caught. So
what else was new?

Scully realized her crossed leg was bobbing up and
down and she immediately stilled it. The cool,
collected Dana Scully DID NOT fidget. She looked
at her watch again. 12:43. She took a deep breath
and slowly blew it back out, then she glanced over
her shoulder. She let out another breath, this
time of relief.

Special Agent Fox Mulder was walking toward her,
his carry-on slung over his shoulder, his
expression dark. Scully bit her lip, guessing he
hadn't had much success in convincing the Police
they hadn't caught the right killer. She grimaced.
Now she would have to spend the rest of the more
than four hour long flight back to D.C. listening
to him whine and bitch about local law
enforcement. It wasn't as if Federal law
enforcement was any better in their treatment of
'Spooky' Mulder. It was just easier to pick on the
'little guys'. She held back a smile. Typical
Federal employee ego, she thought. Even she wasn't
immune.

Mulder sat down heavily in the chair next to her.
She looked over at him just as he blew a breath of
air out and up in a deep sigh, causing the hair
that had fallen over his forehead to flutter.
Scully felt her heart imitate that flutter and
quickly looked away. Not now, she thought. Her
attraction to her partner, which had existed for
years, always got out of hand when she was tired
or stressed. And she couldn't afford those kind of
thoughts. As pleasurable as they were, she
couldn't stand the thought of losing his
friendship and trust. The risk was just not worth
it.  She closed her eyes and concentrated on a new
thought; her mother. Yes. It was her mother's
birthday in...two months. What should she get
her?

"Scully? You okay?"

Mulder's voice startled her, and her eyes flew
open. She turned to face him. "Of course I am. Why
do you ask?"

He shrugged. "You looked a little out of it."

Scully felt her eyes widen. For the past seven
years, she had been fighting her physical
reactions to Mulder, praying that his excellent
observational skills would overlook her
infatuation with him. "I'm just tired."

He nodded and looked away. "You can sleep on the
flight," he suggested.

"Yeah, right," Scully muttered under her breath.
She hated to fly, and he knew it. She had never
really slept on a plane. Dozed maybe, but never
restfully. Except for that one flight back from
the Antarctic a few years ago. Even after spending
three days in the army hospital after being picked
up by a Russian rescue team, she and Mulder had
slept heavily on the flight home. Of course, they
shouldn't have even been alive to go home after
that incident. Mulder had still been recovering
from being shot in the head, she had still been
very weak due to the virus she had been exposed
to, and both had been frostbit and weakened due to
nearly two hours on the ice. At least the sun had
been shining. And they had had each others body
heat to help keep warm.

She blushed as she remembered how her thoughts
during those two frigid hours had strayed to their
night in the Florida forest just after her cancer
went into remission. Thoughts about naked bodies
and sleeping bags. She closed her eyes again. How
come, after all these years, it got harder and
harder to keep from thinking inappropriate
thoughts about her partner?

"We are now boarding first class passengers on
Flight Eight One Four to Washington International.
If you have first class tickets for Flight Eight
Fourteen to Washington, please board now."

Scully opened her eyes again as Mulder asked,
"Think they'll ever splurge and let us ride in
First Class, Scully?"

She didn't have to ask who 'they' were. She shook
her head. "You wouldn't be happy in First Class,
Mulder. Not enough people to watch."

"Yeah, but the flight attendants sure give you
more attention."

Scully was tempted to roll her eyes. As if the
flight attendants didn't give him enough attention
already. He never had a problem with them. He was
always courteous and polite to them, and that,
combined with his looks, usually got him anything
he wanted from them. More than one time in the
past he had been the recipient of a note with a
name and motel room number on it. He would always
laugh and look abashed, though Scully knew he
wasn't a bit embarrassed, and pocket the note with
a spectacular smile. Thankfully, he never accepted
the invitations...as far as Scully knew, anyway.

Lost in thought once again, Scully almost missed
it when they were called for boarding. She stood,
shouldering her carry-on, and moved toward the
door to the plane along with the rest of the
crowd. Mulder was right behind her, practically
stepping on her heels, urging he forward with just
a bit of pressure on the small of her back.
Another flight, she thought. Another several hours
sitting in close confinement with her partner. Her
handsome, charming, brilliant, funny partner.

Why was she dreading it so?

**************************************************

Mulder followed Scully closely as they moved up
the tunnel that lead to the plane. He was still
pissed they were leaving when he was positive the
case wasn't closed. But, as he had learned to do
many times before, he told himself he had done his
best and moved on.

He wasn't looking forward to the long flight ahead
of him. They weren't so bad when he was on his way
TO a new case; reading the case files and
feeling the anticipation of the work ahead always
made the flight go by fast. But the journey home
was the tough part. No, it wasn't that he didn't
enjoy flying. It wasn't that he couldn't sleep or
relax in the air. It was a much more complicated
problem. He had nothing to distract his ever
active mind, therefore he continually thought
about things he should not think about. Things
about the woman sitting so close to him.

He often felt guilty when he and Scully had to sit
apart due to a late reservation on a full plane.
Guilty for being relieved. That way, he didn't
have to smell her provocative scent. Or hear her
voice when she leaned over to talk to him. Feel
her arm press into his. Or her breath on his cheek
when she spoke. He had managed, in nearly 8 years
of partnership, to insure she had no inkling of
his obsession with her. But when they flew
together, it was very hard to keep his physical
reactions to her under control.

Mulder had many different kinds of nightmares, but
one in particular took place on an airplane. He
and Scully had been returning from some case when
he had lost it. Right there on the plane he had
become so aroused by his contact with Scully that
he had exploded. And Scully had done nothing more
in that dream than retrieve a pretzel that had
fallen to his lap. The look of disgust and fear on
the dream Scully's face had been enough to send
Mulder into a depression that lasted for days.
And, of course, when the real Scully asked him
what was wrong, he couldn't tell her. What was he
supposed to say? 'Well, Scully, I had a dream that
we were flying, you accidentally touched my
crotch, I jacked off and you never spoke to me
again.'

Ever since that dream (the only time he had ever
considered a wet dream a nightmare), he had been
afraid to fall asleep in Scully's presence. Afraid
of what he might reveal. He wasn't about to lose
the best thing that ever happened to him by acting
like a horny fool in front of his partner. No way.

Slowly, they made their way into the plane,
working back toward their seats. Scully stopped to
put her carry-on into the overhead compartment,
pulling out a paperback book as she did so. Mulder
found his eyes dropping to her chest as she
reached up, barely catching a glimpse of the curve
of her breast in the V of her blouse as it gaped
open. Creamy white and so soft looking. He looked
away quickly, not risking the chance that she
might notice where his attention had strayed. She
slid into the seats and took the one near the
window. As Mulder put his own bag next to hers,
not having to reach as far as she had, he watched
as she immediately pulled down the plastic shade
on the window, then proceeded to buckle her seat
belt.

He briefly wondered if anyone was assigned to sit
in the aisle seat or if he could sit there. That
way, he wouldn't have to sit so close to her. He
shook his head in dismay. Even if it was
available, what would Scully think if he chose to
sit a chair away from her? It was a bit rude. With
a sigh, he slid into the chair next to his
partner.

She had opened the book and started reading, or so
it appeared. He knew for a fact she was more aware
of what was going on around her than she let on.
She wouldn't relax until they were level in the
air, and even then, she never really let herself
completely unbend. He also knew that she knew that
the best way to keep the mind occupied was to
converse. So why was she attempting to read now?
He leaned forward to look at the title on the
book. 'Timeline' by Michael Crichton.

"Must be a good book," he commented.

Scully didn't respond.

Mulder was undaunted. "You never start reading so
soon. Especially on a long flight."

Still, no response.

"Of course, if it's a really, really good book,
and you can't wait to see what happens next, then
I can understand why you want to continue reading
it right away." Pause. Nothing. "But then you
should have been reading while waiting for me, and
yet, I seem to recall you looking impatiently at
your watch and looking for me over your shoulder,
instead."

"Mulder, shut up." She never even looked up from
the pages in front of her.

With a smirk, Mulder sat back in his seat. They
were both silent for a while, though he knew she
still wasn't reading.

"I'm just not anxious to hear you complain about
this case and how YOU are always right." Her voice
was soft, but steady.

"But I AM always right, Scully." The expression on
her face when she looked up to glare at him made
him laugh. "All right, all right. The case is
closed. I'm not happy about it, but I'll leave it
at that, okay?"

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Okay." With one
last look of warning, she went back to her book.
He let her be...for now.

A few more people filed past them, moving into
their seats, and the flight attendants set about
closing the doors on the overhead compartments.
Mulder casually looked them over. All three were
women. No surprise there. One was an old biddy
who's face reminded him of the Wicked Witch of the
West, but the other two were attractive. A pert
blonde and an Asian girl. The aisle seat next to
him was still empty and he considered once again
moving over so he could talk with them better. He
glanced over at Scully and was surprised to see
her look away quickly and concentrate on her book
again, as if embarrassed being caught watching
him. He furrowed his brow. Why had she been
watching him? It was obvious she didn't want to
talk, so why?

He sighed and settled back into his chair,
deciding to just stay where he was for the time
being. As the plane taxied out onto the runway,
which appeared to be 100 miles away from the
actual airport, he feigned interest in the flight
attendants speech on safety. It was hard to
pretend he didn't know the whole spiel by heart.
When the old bat who was demonstrating all the
procedures near him saw him mouthing the words
along with the speaker, she gave him a deadly
glare. Quickly, he bit his lower lip to avoid
saying the familiar words. A soft snort to his
left had him looking at his partner. She, too, was
biting her lip, trying not to laugh. His eyes
widened in surprise and he felt a smile fall on
his lips.

Scully smiled back at him and shook her head. She
leaned toward him and whispered a familiar line.
"I can't take you anywhere." She settled back in
her seat and opened her book back up. But Mulder
could tell she still wasn't reading.

It seemed to take forever to get to the head of
their runway. By the time the plane began to
accelerate in preparation for take off, Mulder had
already begun dozing. When he felt the plane lift,
he opened his eyes and turned to Scully. Her eyes
were closed as well. She had put the book in the
pocket on the back of the seat in front of her and
placed her hands in her lap. If anyone else had
looked at her, they would have thought she was
sleeping. But Mulder could see the tenseness in
her shoulders and jaw. And her supposedly loosely
clasped hands tightened on themselves almost
imperceptibly.

Instead of feeling sympathy for his partner's
discomfort, Mulder felt a twinge of anger. He
hated the fact that she could feel such fear and
be determined not to show it. It was a trait he
had admired once. But after all these years, he
wanted to see Dana Scully admit she was afraid.
Just once. And just to him.

With another tired sigh, he put on the headphones
the airline provided, found a decent bit of music,
and prepared for a long flight.

**************************************************

THE FIRST HOUR

Scully couldn't relax.

She had tried reading. No luck. As good as the
book was, she just kept reading the same page over
and over again. She put on the headphones, but
none of the music playing held any interest for
her. And she sure wasn't going to listen to air
traffic control! She picked up the airline
magazine and searched for the crossword page. Just
her luck, it had already been done. And in pen.
She stuffed it back in the chair and reached over
to grab the one in front of Mulder. He had been
sitting with his arms crossed and his eyes closed,
bobbing his head along with whatever music he had
chosen, for some time now. At her movement, he
opened one eye. She glared at him, daring him to
say something. He pressed his lips together and
said nothing. As she sat back into her own seat,
he closed his eyes and continued his head bobbing.

She found the crossword, which had already been
started, and set about finishing it. She glanced
at Mulder once, and suddenly wished she hadn't
told him off earlier. Talking would distract her
so much better. But she really didn't want to deal
with the other emotions hearing his voice would
provoke. How pitiful is that? she asked herself.
Not being able to talk to your best friend because
you're afraid he'll see how much you want to jump
him. She shook her head sadly and concentrated on
her task.

Then she got stuck. She put the end of the pencil
she was using in her mouth and started chewing on
it, thinking. Concentrating. Then, without
thought, she nudged Mulder. "What's  'a large
lizard or a TV screen'? Seven letters." She looked
over at him. His eyebrows were up and his hazel
eyes were dark and lazy. If she didn't know
better, she would have called his look 'full of
desire'. Maybe he had been dreaming about
Diana... or one of the flight attendants. She
immediately became sorry she woke him.

He slowly took off the headphones, lowering them
so they wrapped around his neck. "What?" His voice
was deeper than usual. Husky.

"Never mind," Scully replied breathlessly.

"No. What was the question?"

She repeated the clue.

"Monitor."

Scully looked at him. Then at the page in her lap.
'Monitor'. It fit. "Thanks," she whispered. Then,
trying her best to ignore him again, continued.
Before long, she was finished. When she looked
over at him again, her eyes widened in surprise.
While he had put his headphones back on, he was
still watching her. And his eyes were still dark
and mysterious. Their intensity almost frightened
her, as it had many times in the past. But this
time, it also sent her heart racing, and made
her body heat up.

She looked away and wriggled uncomfortably in her
seat. One glance at her watch told her they still
had a long way to go.

*****

End Part 1/4
Flight 814 - Part 2/4
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

Mulder hadn't been dreaming. In fact, he had been
watching Scully with her crossword puzzle for some
time, enjoying her concentration and enjoyment of
the simple challenges brought about by the game.
Then she had bitten that pencil. His breath had
caught as she carefully took the end of the wooden
stick into her mouth, just barely catching a
glimpse of her tongue as she caught hold of it.
Watching as her lips opened and closed around the
shaft. Delicately, sensually. And she had
absolutely no idea what it was doing to him. He
had turned away, closing his eyes tightly, when
she had nudged him.

He hadn't heard her question over the music in his
ears, so he had had to take off the headphones and
ask her to repeat it. The flash in her eyes when
she looked at him could have been fear or
excitement, but either way, she had looked away,
embarrassed. He had answered her question, put the
headphones back on, then leaned his head on the
back of his chair, never taking his eyes off her.

She settled back into her 'work' with no problems
and finished to whole puzzle in no time. She
closed the magazine and put it back into the
pocket of the chair, then looked at him. He saw
her eyes widen when he realized he was staring,
but he couldn't bring himself to look away. Her
lips parted slightly and he held his breath. Then
she looked away. She shifted in her seat and
glanced at her watch. Heaving a big sigh, she
leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

He was positive she would have as much trouble
sleeping as he had, but he silently wished her
luck anyway.

**************************************************

THE SECOND HOUR

Scully turned to Mulder in the close confines of
their seats and stared at him. He looked at her
nervously. "What?" he whispered, surprised to find
his voice shaky.

"Have you ever been a member of the Mile-High
Club?" Scully asked, her voice low, teasing.

Mulder felt his jaw drop. "What?" he repeated.

She gave him a slow, seductive smile. "You heard
me." She reached a hand over to his knee and
smoothly ran her fingers up his thigh. He felt his
leg muscles jump and tried desperately to keep
other muscles from tightening too much. "Have
you?"

He managed to shake his head 'no'.

"Want to?" Her fingers had reached his upper
thigh, and she leaned further into him, cupping
him through his trousers.

His hips arched involuntarily. "Scully," he hissed.

"Mulder?" she practically purred, then squeezed
her fingers slightly.

"Mulder?" Her voice had gotten louder, less
seductive. "Mulder?" He felt a shove on his
shoulder and his eyes popped open.

"What!?" He looked over at Scully who was looking
at him with a combination of concern and anger.

She looked down at his crotch, then met his eyes
with a blistering look. "You were dreaming," she
said, her voice flat. Then she looked away.

Taking a deep breath, Mulder felt his body relax.
Scully's glare, so similar to the one in his
nightmare, was more than enough to ease the
powerful tension that had gripped his body during
the dream. He wondered if he had spoken in his
sleep, or if she had just noticed his state of
arousal. Apparently, it had been quite obvious. He
closed his eyes and held back a groan. "Sorry," he
said softly.

Scully sniffed in response.

He looked her. He knew she wanted to forget about
it, but he felt a need to explain himself. "Look,
Scully. I don't always have dreams like that, but
I AM male and-"

"Horny?" she interrupted. She looked at him out of
the corner of her eye. "You should be glad it was
me that caught you and not our friendly flight
attendant." She nodded toward Broomhilda, as
Mulder had taken to calling the old-biddy. "She
would have thrown you off the plane if she knew
you were having sex dreams about one of her
girls." Her voice had taken on a teasing note, but
there was still some anger underneath.

He chuckled at the image she inspired. Then
repeated her words in his head. "Wait a minute, I
wasn't thinking about..." He stopped himself
before he told her the truth. Maybe it was best
she thought he had been thinking about one of the
young flight attendants.

She faced him, a question in her eyes. "Then
who...?" She, too, stopped her question before
finishing it and turned away. "Never mind. I
really don't want to know."

'No, Scully. You don't,' Mulder thought to himself.
'You really don't.'

Broomhilda was serving the meal, he noticed, and
was almost to their seats. Thank God Scully had
awakened him. He sighed heavily. Maybe, if he
tried really hard, he could get his subconscious
to continue that particular dream... when he was
safe at home tonight.

**************************************************

Scully ordered only a light meal when the flight
attendant reached them. Surprisingly, so did
Mulder. He smiled and talked sweetly to the older
woman, and, not surprisingly, the woman quickly
warmed to him. 'What a charmer,' Scully thought. Was
that how he managed to get her to do anything he
wanted? By charming her without her even realizing
it? No. She knew he got her to do what he wanted
because she just couldn't say no to him. She had
tried. Oh, how she had tried. But she always got
caught up in his plans anyway. 'Admit it, Dana,' she
said to herself. 'As independent and capable as you
are, you are putty in Mulder's hands.'

With a roiling stomach, she began to eat, trying
not to recall how she had awakened from a slight
doze to find her partner breathing heavily and in
an obvious state of arousal next to her. She had
felt amusement upon first discovering his
predicament. But that amusement had quickly
changed to anger. Anger fueled by jealousy. Who
had he been dreaming about? She hated the fact
that she wanted to know. She hated that she wished
he would turn to her and tell her he had been
thinking about her.

He wasn't eating much at all, which was very
unusual. She faced him again, looking at him
intently until he looked up at her. His eyes were
wary and he wore that familiar 'puppy-dog'
expression.

"What's wrong? Aren't you feeling well?"

He looked back down at the tray in front of him
and shrugged. "Guess not."

A depressed Mulder was NOT a good thing. Time to
forget about her own concerns and cheer him up.
"Oh, come on, Mulder," she teased. "After the
dream you just had, you should be in a good mood."

He glared at her, and she leaned away from him,
shocked by the anger in his eyes.

"I..." She wasn't sure how to proceed. With
confusion, she turned away. "Sorry." Her whispered
reply sounded uncannily like the apology he had
given her only minutes earlier.

"As much as I act like a perverted idiot on
occasion, I don't LIKE to have wet dreams in
public, Scully." He sounded as if he was speaking
through clenched teeth.

She felt herself blush and looked down at her own
tray. "I'm sorry, Mulder," she said, though she
wasn't exactly sure what she was apologizing for.
"I was just trying to cheer you up. I had assumed
that it was a good dream you were having."

He leaned into her. "It was," he whispered
harshly. "It was a VERY good dream. And I thank
you for waking me before I embarrassed myself in
front of the whole plane. But," he leaned back
again. "I'm sure you understand why I'm not
exactly happy YOU caught me."

Scully nodded. Of course. He was embarrassed that
she had seen what she had. Despite his
proclivities, Mulder had always been a gentleman
toward her. This situation had obviously gotten to
him. She looked over at him, still determined to
cheer him up. With a smile, she asked, "Are you
sure it's because I caught you that you're not
happy? I mean, wouldn't you be happier right about
now it I hadn't interrupted?"

He glared at her again, but it didn't have much
power to it. "Funny." He looked around the plane
casually. "You just remember that when I have to
wake you from a dream involving some cute
pilot...just so no one hears you scream."

Scully felt her face heat again. Had he ever
caught her acting aroused while she was asleep?
Had she ever slept soundly enough in front of him
to have had one of her erotic dreams about him? He
looked at her, a glint in his eye. She felt her
lips tighten, knowing he had just gotten the
reaction he had been hoping for. As he started
laughing, she reached over and slugged him soundly
in the shoulder.

**************************************************

THE THIRD HOUR

Things seemed to get better after their small
meal. For several minutes, they talked about
nothing in particular, something she and Mulder
rarely did. And she enjoyed it. She liked
listening to Mulder's funny stories about his
years at Oxford, glad that he had had more friends
than Phoebe while there. He rarely mentioned his
ex-girlfriend, probably because he was aware of
Scully's aversion to the woman, and Scully
appreciated it. She also appreciated the fact that
he not only listened to her stories, but really
seemed to enjoy hearing them.

After they reached a typical conversational lull,
Scully teasingly leaned over to the man next to
her and tweaked his nose. "You aren't really Eddie
under there, are you?"

Mulder's eyes flashed at the mention of Eddie Van
Blundht. Scully felt like biting her tongue, but
she knew there was no way to take back the words
she had just said. "I'm sorry. It just feels odd
that we've traveled however many air miles we've
traveled together and never really talked." She
sighed and lifted the corner of her mouth in a
slight smile. "The last time I had a real,
non-serious talk with anyone about nothing was
that night with Eddie." Her lips twisted on the
man's name.

Mulder sat silently for a while. "I guess we
really don't know all that much about each other,
do we?"

Scully shook her head. "I think we know all the
important stuff. I think you know me better than
anyone, even my mother."

"Yeah?" Mulder's voice sounded both skeptical and
happy.

"Yeah." Scully responded. "For example, my mother
does not know I have a tattoo."

Mulder looked away from her quickly, eyes
downcast. 'Great, Scully,' she thought to herself.
'Good going, bringing up another touchy subject.'

"Actually, Scully, she does know."

"What?! How?"

"I might of mentioned it to her. Once."

Scully just stared at him in shock. Then, in a
soft voice, she said, "When, exactly, did you talk
to my mother about my tattoo?"

Mulder sighed. "We talked a lot when you were in
the hospital fighting your cancer. She would
apologize to me about Bill and I would apologize
to her about involving you in all my problems." He
shrugged. "We ended up talking about some of our
cases, including the one you took on in
Philadelphia."

Scully was speechless for a moment. She didn't
know how to feel. She was happy that her mother
liked and got along with Mulder, yes. But... "So
what you're saying is you talk to my mother more
than me? Maybe you are right. We don't know each
other at all."

"No, no," Mulder argued. "I think you were right
the first time. We know all the important things."

"Oh, really?" Scully was getting angry again. For
no good reason that she could surmise. But it felt
good. "Then how come you won't let me call you
'Fox'?"

Mulder opened his mouth as if to speak, but then
closed it. He grimaced and turned away with
another shrug. "I just don't like 'Fox'."

"But you let others call you 'Fox'. Diana. My
mother. Women you've just met." She also turned to
the front, wondering why she suddenly felt near
tears. "But not me. The person supposedly closest
to you."

"Scully..." he started.

She turned on him. "My name is Dana. I'm not
Scully!" She was practically shouting now. With
embarrassment, she looked down. "I mean... yes,
I am Scully. Of course I'm Scully." She faced him
again. He was gaping at her, confusion filling his
eyes. "But I hardly even hear the name Dana
anymore. No one but my mother knows Dana." She
stood suddenly, glad she had taken off her seat
belt earlier, and looked down at her partner and
best friend. At the man she loved. "Especially
not you."

She sidled past him and made her way up the aisle,
eyes down, toward the sanctuary of the bathroom.

**************************************************

What the hell had just happened? One minute, he
and Scully had been having a fun conversation
about nothing, then she had turned on him. In all
their years together, she had never acted like
other women of his acquaintance. She had always
been easy to understand. Well...maybe not so easy
to read, but never really confusing him with her
up-and-down emotions like most women.

He had learned long ago to never try and figure
women out; they were meant to be an enigma. But
Scully had been the one female in his life that
had been constant, unchanging. Dependable. Yes,
she had her mood swings. Everyone did. But she had
never done silly things like storm away in the
middle of an argument, like she just had. Only
they hadn't really been arguing, had they? He
didn't even remember saying much. Except admitting
he had told Margaret Scully about her daughter's
tattoo. Maybe he should elaborate and tell Scully
he hadn't told her mother she had also spent the
night with Ed Jerse. But he hoped Scully had
enough trust in him not to spread rumors about
her.

He leaned back in the seat, glancing at his watch
as he did so. Still more than an hour to go. And
now, Scully was pissed at him. Well, it wasn't as
if he had been in the best mood earlier, either.
After she had caught him dreaming about her
(though, she didn't realize she had been the
subject in his dream), he had been seriously off
balance. He had gotten mad at her for no real
reason other than the fact that she was totally
oblivious to his attraction to her. He wished she
knew, if only so she would broach the subject
first. What subject? Sex, of course. Could they
really change their relationship that much and
still be friends? He thought of the movie 'When
Harry Met Sally'. That movie had a happy ending,
didn't it?

He turned in his seat to look down the aisle where
Scully had disappeared. One of the flight
attendants stood there, the petite brunette with
the Asian features. He smiled at her. She smiled
back. He tried to look past her to find Scully,
and moved into the end seat so he could lean into
the aisle farther. The flight attendant must have
misread his actions, because she quickly walked
over to him.

"Can I get you anything, sir?" Her smile was
bright. He could have sworn she batted her
eyelashes at him.

"No, thank you. I was just looking for my
partner."

"The red-headed woman you were sitting with?"

"Yes."

"I believe she's still in the restroom." Her smile
had dimmed slightly. "Is she your wife?"

Mulder shook his head, knowing where this
conversation was going. Usually, he was more than
happy to use up air time flirting with the flight
attendants, but he really didn't feel up to it
today. He found himself smiling back at her
anyway, some deep, dark part of him more that
willing to play with fire. That fire being
Scully's anger. "No. She's just my partner."
'Just'? "We work together." The understatement of
the century.

The young woman's smile brightened even more. She
leaned a hip against the back of the chair he was
sitting in, and settled in for a conversation.

Mulder gave as much attention as he could to the
lovely lady flirting with him, but most of it was
directed toward the back of the plane, where he
knew his partner was hiding out. She would be back
soon, he knew. She may have confused him just now
with her actions, but he knew she wouldn't hide
for long. If there was one thing he was sure of,
it was that Scully never ran from her problems.
She would face them head-on. Even if said problem
was him.

**************************************************

Scully took her time in the bathroom, even knowing
there was a plane full of people that might need
it at any moment. Damned if she was going to go
out there with smeared eyeliner and a flushed
face. The worst part was that she had no idea why
she had been crying. Mulder had hurt her plenty of
times in the past with his brush-offs and 'I don't
give a shit' attitude, but she had never run off
with her tail between her legs before. How was she
going to explain her behavior to him when she
didn't understand it herself? She would just
apologize and try her best to get them on a
comfortable subject. With a sigh, she left the
little room and turned to head down the aisle to
their seats.

One of the flight attendants was standing in the
aisle, leaning casually against the back of one of
the seats, laughing. Flirting with someone. With a
sinking heart, Scully walked toward them. She was
quite positive she knew who the woman was flirting
with. Her suspicions proved correct as she came up
behind the woman to find Mulder, smile on his
face, looking up at her from his seated position.

"Excuse me." Scully was amazed that her voice
didn't sound like ice. Because that was how she
felt. She slid past the attendant, who quickly
stepped in closer to Mulder's chair to make room
for her, and then turned her body to squeeze past
Mulder and into her window seat. She kept her back
to her partner so she didn't have to look at him.
Once seated, she picked up the magazine in front
of her and began to flip through it blindly. Her
arrival had obviously caused a lull in the
conversation. Scully couldn't feel one iota of
regret.

"Well, I better get back to work," the woman said.
Scully almost felt sorry for her, as her voice was
full of remorse. It wasn't her fault if she
thought Mulder was a very attractive man. If
Scully had been in her position, she would have
wanted to flirt with him, too. But, the woman's
next words wiped out any sympathy Scully might
have felt for her. "I'll talk to you later, Fox."

Scully would swear later that she saw red.
Literally. Never had she felt so angry or so
melancholy at the same time.

There was silence for a while as Scully tried to
get her feelings under control once more. Tears
had begun to form in her eyes once again.

"Scully?" Mulder's question was a bit tentative.

She was not ready. "Mulder, I suggest you not
talk to me for the rest of the flight unless you
want me to embarrass myself further be shooting
you and tossing you out the escape hatch."

"You wouldn't do that, Scully," Mulder answered
without missing a beat. "That would depressurize
the plane and put all these innocent people at
risk."

Scully's normal reaction to a quip like that would
have been an icy glare. Instead, she didn't move.
Didn't react at all. She couldn't. She was
absolutely convinced that if she looked at him,
she would break down and tell him she was in love
with him. She would tell him how her heart had
nearly been broken more times by him alone than
all of the other men in her life combined, and
that he never even realized it. Tell him how much
it hurt to know her best friend, the man she could
trust with her life, she couldn't trust with her
heart.

"Scully?" He tried again, his voice softer than
the first time.

She ignored him.

He didn't try to talk to her again. And he stayed
in the aisle seat, away from her.

That hurt more than anything.

*****

End 2/4
Flight 814 - Part 3/4
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

THE FOURTH AND FINAL HOUR

Almost there. Mulder had never been so relieved as
he was the minute the pilot announced that they
were starting their decent to D.C. Just 20 more
minutes and they would be on the ground. He
glanced over at Scully. It would probably be a
good idea to take separate cabs home, he thought.
Just to avoid anymore conflict today. Wimp, he
thought. And yet, maybe it was best they get
everything cleared up today. Maybe it was best
they hash it all out in private. Get things
straight between them. Yell and scream and throw
things. That's what he felt like doing, and he had
a feeling Scully would be more than willing to go
along with that idea. They both needed to let off
a little...make that a lot...of steam. And
then, they could go home, and meet up at work
tomorrow with things back to normal. They should
probably go to his apartment, then. There were
fewer expensive things to break there.

Well, if he was going to broach the subject to
her, he better do it soon. He could already feel
the plane tipping gently downward. The flight
attendants were gathering trash and checking seat
belts. Lynn, the woman he had been talking to when
Scully came back from the bathroom, sent him a
small smile as she walked by. Mulder smiled back,
then glanced at Scully. She was glaring daggers at
him. Maybe talking to her today WAS out of the
question.

But then he saw something that startled him, while
at the same time it gave him hope. In the split
second before she turned away from him, he saw a
glint of what appeared to be sadness and
vulnerability in her eyes. Things he very rarely
saw. He took a deep breath. Now or never. He
unbuckled his seat belt, fully intending to get up
and move over to the seat next to her, when it
happened.

BOOM!!!!!!!!!

**************************************************

Scully had picked up her paperback about 40
minutes ago. Forty long minutes. Yet, she had only
read about 10 pages. She was constantly aware of
her partners movements. She knew when he gave up
on the magazine he was reading and tried to sleep.
She knew when he had given up on trying to sleep.
She saw the flight attendant smile at him. And she
saw him smile back, then look at her. 'Sure,
Mulder,' she thought. 'Dig that knife in a little
deeper, why don't you?'

She had also been aware of how agitated he had
seemed after she looked away. He was up to
something, she was sure of it. Mulder rarely sat
still; some part of him was always moving, whether
it be a tapping finger or a bobbing foot. But he
was very antsy now. He moved suddenly, undoing his
seat belt. She wasn't sure if he was getting up to
use the restroom, or if he was going to move
closer to her. And she never got the chance to
find out.

BOOM!!!!!!

The loud explosion caused more than one person to
scream, and Scully felt her own body jump at the
sound. The plane jerked, then shuddered horribly.
Scully dropped the book and grabbed the armrests
to her seat, though she was still firmly buckled
in. The plane dropped, and Scully felt her stomach
clench. She tightened her grip and squeezed her
eyes shut. Then the plane leveled out again. She
looked over at Mulder, who had also gripped the
armrests of his chair, to find him looking at her
with dark concern in his eyes. 'Oh, God!' She
thought. If he was scared, then they were in big
trouble.

"OH MY GOD!!!!"

A man toward the front of the plane had shouted
the very words Scully was thinking. He appeared to
be looking out the window. Scully quickly pushed
up the shade on her window, then regretted it. It
was dark outside, dusk having already fallen on
the east coast, and the flames shooting out of the
engine in the left wing were clearly visible. She
felt Mulder come up beside her, his face close to
hers as he looked out into the glowing night.
"Holy shit!" he hissed in her ear.

The pilot's voice suddenly came over the intercom.
"Uh, folks. We're...uh...having a slight problem
here. Everything is under control now, but we ask
that everyone remain seated and keep yourself
belted in as tightly as possible. Flight control
is aware of our situation, and they have given us
clearance for an emergency landing at Washington
International." There was a pause as Scully shoved
Mulder down into the seat next to her and started
buckling his seat belt for him. Like a child, he
kept staring out the window at the flames, which
had diminished somewhat, but had not gone out.
With a groan of exasperation, she pulled down the
shade again.

The pilot continued. "We ask that you remain calm
and please listen to the instructions the flight
attendants are about to give you. We are preparing
for an emergency landing, and I will tell you now,
it's going to be rough, folks. So please, listen
to your instructions very carefully."

The flight attendants, looking very frightened but
staying admirably calm, began to traverse the
plane, talking to everyone individually. This is
what they had been trained for, but Scully knew
that most of them never had to actually do it. The
older woman reached them and calmly proceeded to
tell them what to do. "When we land, I want you to
lean forward and wrap your arms around your legs,
keeping your head on your knees. After we've
landing, unbuckle your seat belt immediately and
proceed to the nearest exit."

She was about to continue on when Mulder
interrupted her. "Have you ever done this before?"

She looked him in the eye. "Yes. I've been on
emergency landings before."

Mulder looked in the direction of the shaded
window and the flames on the other side. "This
bad?"

She was silent for a while. With a quick shake of
her head and a tightening of her lips, she moved
on.

Scully reached over toward Mulder, and without his
even looking at her, he met her hand with his own.
He laced his fingers through hers and gripped it
tightly.

The plane continued to descend rapidly. Scully's
ears started to throb and she began to open and
close her mouth in a chewing motion, trying to
ease the pressure, but the plane was going down
too fast. 'It's literally falling from the sky,' she
thought. She squeezed Mulder's hand involuntarily
when the pilot's voice came over the speakers
again. It was amazingly calm sounding, but Scully
heard the fear in it nonetheless. "Please position
yourselves for an emergency landing." She was sure
he meant to say crash landing. He was just being
polite.

She leaned forward in her seat, looping her left
arm under her legs, feeling her head touch the
back of the seat in front of her. She never even
considered letting go of Mulder's hand, and he
gave no indication that he wanted to let go of
hers, either. They looked at each other.

"What a way to go, huh, Scully?"

"Shut up, Mulder." Her voice broke. He squeezed
her hand in response. 'At least I'm with him,' she
thought. 'If I'm going to die, at least I'm with
Mulder.' "I'm scared, Mulder."

He laughed softly. "You know, I was just wishing
you would admit that you were scared just once in
my lifetime. I didn't think we'd have to go to
such drastic measures to have it happen!"

Scully couldn't help but smile at his words. "We
do tend to hold in our feelings too much, don't
we?"

He nodded, or tried to, considering that his tall
frame was bent over at such an awkward angle.

The plane dropped again and loose objects flew
about the cabin. She swallowed back a scream. Then
she clutched his hand even tighter. "Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

**************************************************

I love you.

Mulder stopped breathing when he heard the words.
Over the roar of the plane's struggling engine and
the screams of the passengers, he almost didn't
hear her. He thought for a minute he had
misunderstood, but knew by looking in her eyes
that he hadn't. He could see the words there, in
her crystal blue eyes, and knew that she meant
them. He felt his heart clench. Of course he had
known. Why else had she willingly followed him to
Hell and back? But to hear the words...

"Scully! I love you, too! So much!" He choked back
a sob. 'Why now, damnit?' he thought to no one in
particular. Tears were streaming down her face.
Love competed with the fear in her eyes as the
plane dropped again. Then she closed them.

"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy
name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth
as it is in heaven."

Mulder closed his own eyes as he listened to
Scully's voice say the Lord's prayer. She sounded
calm, steady. Unafraid.

"Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us
our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass
against us."

Despite his disbelief in a single, all-powerful
entity such as God, Mulder felt himself recite the
familiar words along with Scully.

"And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us
from evil."

"Amen."

With a bone jarring crash, the plane hit the
runway. Then suddenly, Mulder felt his world
literally turn upside down.

**************************************************

When Scully was asked several years later what she
remembered about the crash of Flight 814, she
could truthfully answer 'nothing'. She could
remember nothing of the actual crash, anyway. She
did remember the moments directly afterward.
Barely. The screaming, and other loud sounds. She
remembered how tightly her eyes were shut, and
that she refused to let go of Mulder's hand. She
remembered the feeling of free-falling, even
though she still felt the chair beneath her, solid
and secure.

Then, everything stood still, and she remembered
the rest with perfect clarity.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself upside
down, her hair hanging toward the ceiling, which
she could easily reach up and touch. She was still
strapped firmly in her chair. She felt little
aches and pains travel throughout her body, and
then her head began throbbing. She looked to her
right, vaguely surprised to see her hand still
gripping, and being gripped by, Mulder's. He
looked at her at the same time, his eyes slightly
dazed looking in the dim, blinking emergency
lights that had gone on throughout the plane. They
didn't even stop to consider the fact that they
were still alive.

With one accord, they let go of each others hands,
released their seat belts, and dropped to the
ceiling, now the floor. Scully's ears rang, but
she still heard the crying and moaning going on
around them. The blonde flight attendant was
crawling past them, her left sleeve torn and
bloody, making her way to the rear emergency exit.
Mulder saw her and, reaching back to grab Scully,
began to follow her. "Everybody off the plane!" he
shouted. "Now!" The crying quieted as his shout
drove many out of their shocked stupor and into
action. The attendant had reached the door and was
helping the man in the seat next to it release
it. Red flashing lights appeared in the windows;
the emergency crews were coming.

On her knees behind Mulder, Scully noticed the
woman in the chair that had been behind them. She
was barely conscious, moaning and bleeding from
several places. "Mulder!"

He turned at her shout and noticed immediately
what she was looking at. Together, they worked to
get the injured woman out, Scully undoing her seat
belt, and both of them slowly lowering her to the
floor/ceiling. Suddenly, an explosion rocked the
cabin. Instinctively, Scully ducked her head and
leaned her upper body over the injured woman's
head, protecting her. Mulder, also moving on
instinct, leaned over Scully. Protecting her. But
the explosion hadn't been close. Mulder looked at
Scully as she straightened. "The next one might be
us."

The passengers, who had stopped their movement
toward the door at the explosion, pushed forward
once again. With a slight grimace, Mulder lifted
the woman in his arms, Scully helping him to
balance her, and then staggered to his feet. "Come
on," he said to his partner, then made his way
toward the exit.

Scully followed. She glanced behind her, to what
had been the front of the plane. The Asian woman
was helping the last of the passengers out the
front exit. She could see no one between herself
and the flight attendant. When the woman looked
down toward her, Scully gave her a nod. All clear.
At least here. It looked like there were more than a
few still bodies in the forward section of the
plane, and the cockpit had been completely
obliterated. The woman nodded back, then left
though the door in front of her. Scully was about
to do the same when she heard it. A baby crying.
From INSIDE the plane.

Without clear thought, Scully turned toward the
sound. Back into the plane.

**************************************************

Mulder barely made it to the first emergency
vehicle with the woman he was carrying. He had
wrenched his shoulder sometime during the crash
and he felt the pain with every step he took. The
firetrucks and ambulances, which had been on
standby ever since the pilots reported the first
explosion in the air, where set far enough back
from the plane to be close for the passengers to
reach, yet safe if the plane exploded again.

"Hey! Help! Over here!" One of the firemen saw
Mulder and the woman and rushed to his side. "I
can't..." His shoulder was giving out. He was
surprised he'd made it this far. The fireman took
hold of the woman, and Mulder let his arms drop in
relief.

The man nodded off to his side. "Paramedics over
there. Get yourself checked out, huh?" He looked
at the woman in his arms. "She yours?"

Mulder shook his head. "No. No, she was sitting
behind us." He looked back, expecting to see
Scully right behind him. His weary body came to
full attention when he realized she wasn't there.
"Scully?"

"Well, thanks, Mister. She's gonna call you a
hero, you know." The man started walking toward an
ambulance.

Mulder didn't even acknowledge him as he turned
and began stumbling back toward the burning plane.
He could see the damage now. Both wings were gone,
as was most of the very front and the very back of
the plane. It had cartwheeled, he knew. Like the
one in Sioux City years earlier, and had ended up
on its back. "Scully?" His voice rose a bit.
Rescue personnel where circling the plane,
carefully searching for passengers. But none
wanted to go too close; the flames had already set
off an explosion in the cockpit area. The whole
body of the plane could go at any moment. Mulder's
eyes darted about, searching for that one familiar
figure. She had been right behind him in the
plane. He remembered feeling her hands pressed up
against his back as he carried his load to the
door. Then?

"Scully?!" Desperation started to fill his voice
as he began running for the back door, the one he
had escaped from. "Scully!" One of the men
searching the outside of the plane realized his
intent and tried to stop him. Mulder easily
brushed off the man's hands. He grabbed the sides
of the door and leaned in. "Scully?!"

"Here!" The lights had gone off in the cabin, but
the flashing lights from outside, and the flames,
helped light the inside of the plane. He was able
to make out his partner, just barely, as she
walked carefully toward him. She was carrying
something in her arms. He reached for her and
helped her down through the door.

"Damn, Scully! Don't do that to me!"

She gave him a small smile, barely noticeable
through the blood streaking her face. She had a
cut on her forehead. "Sorry." He noticed the
bundle in her arms was moving and looked closer. A
baby. A toddler of about 18 months he guessed.
He/she/it was looking at him with terrified,
tear-streaked eyes.

"Where's Mom?" he asked as he led a slow moving
Scully and baby away from the plane.

"Dead."

Mulder winced at her bald statement. How many
other dead bodies had she passed en-route to this
living child? How many people couldn't she save?
"Admit it, Scully. You didn't want me to be the
only one called hero."

She didn't look at him, but he felt her tiny laugh
anyway. "Yeah, right."

They reached the ambulance, where Scully
regretfully handed off the baby, which turned out
to be a girl, to the people there. Then, the two
F.B.I. agents silently sat back out of the way,
content to wait for medical treatment until after
all the serious cases where looked at. The
explosion that took the plane later turned out to
be much smaller than anticipated, but it was a
spectacular sight in the night anyway.

Mulder and Scully sat on the tarmac, their backs
leaning up against one of the firetrucks. Mulder's
arm sat comfortably around Scully's shoulders, and
her head rested against him. They sat like that
for more than two hours, not saying a word.

*****

End 3/4

Flight 814 - Part 4/4
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

Forty Hours Later
Scully's Apartment

The crash of Flight 814 took 21 lives, including
those of the pilot and co-pilot. Not bad
considering 125 people had been on board. The
cause of the explosion in the port side  engine
was still under investigation. Mulder and Scully
had both been kept in the hospital overnight for
observation, but had been released, along with
many others, the next morning. Scully was mildly
relieved to discover that the baby she had saved
still had a father, who had been waiting at the
airport for his family that night. At least his
little girl would get to go home.

Both agents were given the rest of the week off to
recover. Neither were very happy about the forced
leave, as they both used work to ease the turmoil
in their lives. Scully spent the day after the
crash alone in her apartment, finishing up the
reports on the Denver case. She didn't sleep well
that night and had called up Mulder around 3:30 in
the morning without thinking. He hadn't been
asleep, and the two had talked about their current
favorite subject, nothing, for a couple hours.
Scully had been able to sleep for a few hours
after that.

She decided to spend the next day with her mother,
who actually got her to talk about the frightening
experience. But, as much as she loved her mother,
she was anxious to get home. While she was relived
to be alive, she felt discontented after the
crash, as if she was missing something. She was
parking in her spot in front of her apartment
building when she noticed a familiar car parked
nearby.

With a mixture of excitement and worry, she
entered her apartment, not surprised to find the
door already unlocked. Once inside, a familiar and
very tasty smell made her stomach rumble. Chicken.
She smelled chicken. "Mulder?"

He came out of the kitchen wearing an apron her
mother had given her years ago and she had never
worn: Kiss The Cook or You Don't Get To Eat.

"Mulder. What are you doing?"

"Cooking dinner. Can't you smell it?" He smiled
and she felt her breath catch. He rarely smiled
like that anymore. He came toward her and reached
for her jacket. She let him take it, then turned
to face him again.

"Why?"

"Why not?" He hung up her jacket and headed back
into the kitchen. "Hope you like chicken and
rice."

Scully followed him. "It smells wonderful. Thank
you." She entered the kitchen and stopped short. A
beautiful bouquet of fresh flowers sat in the
center of the table, which had been set for
dinner, and two candles burned just out of reach
of the blooms. "Mulder," she whispered in
astonishment. He began serving the meal, his
eyebrows raised in question. She finally sat, glad
he didn't pull out the chair for her; that would
be going overboard. He took off the apron and sat
next to her, rather that at the other end of the
table and, giving her one last mysterious look,
began to eat.

It was incredibly delicious, and Scully ate with
gusto. As did Mulder. When she asked him whose
recipe he had used, he commented, "Believe it or
not, this is Frohike's."

After the meal, the two cleaned up in the kitchen,
silent but comfortable. Then, still without
speaking, they moved into the living room, and sat
side by side on the couch.

"Well," Mulder finally said on a sigh.

"Yeah," Scully sighed in return.

"Scully?"

"Yeah?"

"Or is it Dana? Which do you prefer?"

Scully turned toward him. "Both," she said. "I
want both."

Mulder smiled. "Me, too," he whispered.

They sat silent for a while, neither sure what to
say next. Mulder broke the silence first.

"I think, after all these years, I was afraid
that if I tried to get to know Dana, I'd loose
Scully. And Scully is my best friend." He looked
at her again, his eyes wide, praying for
understanding. She nodded.

She understood. Perfectly. "Sometimes," she
started, "after we've been working a hard case,
and we're both exhausted and we can't see straight,
I watch you as you drive off to your apartment.
It feels all wrong. Like we should be going home
together."

She had been looking at her hands while speaking,
and looked up now, only a little surprised to see
his face so close to hers. His eyes were dark,
holding that intensity she found so exciting. He
leaned in closer.

"You know that dream I had on the plane? The one
you woke me from?"

She nodded ever so slightly.

"It was you I was dreaming about."

Scully felt her heart skip a beat. Of course, she
knew it hadn't really. But it sure felt like it.
She moved in, and he met her halfway.

The kiss was soft and slow. Simple and easy. Lips
upon lips, with no real pressure from either side.
Scully moved her head back a bit and Mulder
followed, leaning in toward her. She smiled
slightly and parted her lips. His eyes dropped
down to look at her parted mouth, then they met
hers again as he accepted the invitation.

Scully had never really believed in real romance,
the kind books were written about. But when Mulder
wrapped his arms around her and drank from her,
she believed. His tongue was deep in her mouth,
but it far from invasive, and his lips were never
still. She pulled back again and did something she
had wanted to do for years: She took his lower lip
in her mouth and sucked on it gently, then ran her
tongue along its smooth surface. He groaned in
response, and then pulled away, his eyes bright.

"Maybe we should wait." His voice had an edge to
it.

Scully was astounded. "For what?" she demanded,
glancing downward at the rising bulge in his lap.
That was proof he didn't really want to wait,
wasn't it?

"'Til we're married," he whispered.

Scully leaned back even further, and she let out
an exasperated laugh.

"What?" Mulder asked, laughing a bit as well. But
there was no laughter in his eyes.

He's dead serious, she thought. "I don't want to
wait," she said, her voice breathy.

"Then we'll just have to get married right away."

"We can't just get married," Scully argued, but
her heart was pounding with pure excitement.

"We CAN just." He gripped her shoulders tightly.
"I love you and I don't want to lose you!"

"Mulder," she started, reaching for his arms.

"Fox," he interrupted her. "It's Fox."

She shook her head. "But that's just it. If we get
married, I might lose Mulder. And I don't know if
I can survive that."

His hands slid down her arms and grasped hers
lightly. "If we get married, you will BE a
Mulder."

She couldn't argue with that. As old-fashioned as
she was, she knew she would take his name if they
married. "That's not what I meant, and you know
it." She squeezed his hands. "I guess I can't use
the excuse of 'this is so sudden', can I?" She
reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. "I
love you so much, Mulder. But do you realize what
a big step getting married is? What about work?
What about the X-Files?"

He sighed and lowered his eyes. "I've thought
about all that, Scully. I have!" He looked up
again. "We can work it out. I know we can. It
won't be easy, but I think we can keep our private
lives separate from our work. And who gives a shit
what the Bureau thinks about it. Everyone thinks
we're a couple already anyway."

Scully could see the truth in his eyes as he
spoke, and she knew he had more arguments in his
head as to why they should get married. She didn't
need to hear them. "Yes," she said softly.

Mulder leaned back to look at her. "Yes, what?"

She smiled through the tears already falling from
her eyes. "Yes, I'll marry you." She saw the flair
of excitement flash in his eyes. "On one
condition!" she exclaimed before he could say a
word.

His eyes shuttered. "What?" he asked warily.

She leaned into him again. "That we don't wait,"
she whispered against his lips.

"Why, Dana! I'm shocked," Mulder said back, though
his voice was amused rather than shocked. "And
here I was trying to be a gentleman and respect
your Catholic sensibilities..."

"I may be Catholic, Mulder, but I have wanted this
for more than seven long years. Now, I could be
good and say that after waiting this long, what's
a few more days? But I don't want to be good."

"What do you want, Scully?"

She smiled and, without saying a word, started to
kiss him once more.

**************************************************

The time had come. There was no turning back now.
Not that he wanted to. The woman of his dreams had
just agreed to be his wife, and now she wanted to
make love to him. There was no doubt in his mind
that the future would be difficult; but he and
Scully had weathered so many storms already, he
knew they would be okay. And, as for right now, he
just wanted to feel happiness and pleasure in the
arms of this woman.

Mulder had imagined this moment many times in the
past. In the lucid dreams, the ones he could
control, he imagined picking her up and carrying
her to her bed, undressing her slowly and
completely, kissing her and touching her just as
slowly, just as completely. He imagined watching
her blue eyes turn dark with desire and her body
quiver beneath his touch, and then holding on to
his own completion just long enough to watch her
come undone beneath him. But he, of all people,
should have known that even the best laid plans
often changed due to unforeseen circumstances.

What he hadn't imagined, but should have known (if
only because his non-lucid dreams told him so),
was that he would lose complete and utter control
when she touched him. There would be no softly
whispered words of love. Nor would there be a
slow, seductive exploration of bodies.

After Scully kissed him, his ever-in-control mind
lost it, and his body took control. Maybe it was
because it had been a long time since he had had
real, honest sex. Or maybe it was because the
woman next to him was remarkably seductive. Most
likely it was a combination of the two. But never
had Mulder lost such complete control during sex
as he did that night. He turned toward her,
letting his hands roam over her still clothed
body. He continued to kiss her, open mouthed and
hot, all over her face and neck. Her sighs and
moans only encouraged him. He grasped her breasts
roughly, almost pulling back when he heard her
gasp. But then she arched her back, pressing them
harder against his hands. He squeezed them
lightly, experimentally.

"Oh, Mulder." Scully's voice was mostly air. Oh,
yeah. She was definitely approving. Her own hands
were moving over his body. His shoulders. Down his
back. Over his buttocks. There she stopped, giving
him a squeeze similar to the one he had given her.
His hips jerked in reaction, and he heard her let
out a throaty laugh.

He wanted to say something, some smart remark.
Something to slow things down without dampening
the mood. But he made the mistake of leaning back
slightly to look into her eyes. Never had he seen
Scully's eyes like this, dark blue and stormy. Her
mouth was open as she tried to catch her breath,
and her lips were swollen looking. "Mulder?" she
whispered, obviously wondering why he had stopped.
He sat, in awe of the situation. He was about to
make love to Scully. And he wasn't dreaming.

With a low sound in his throat that sounded
suspiciously like a growl, Mulder reached for her.
"Too many clothes," he ground out.

"Yes," she hissed, and proceeded to help him with
her sweater. Her bra followed, then his T-shirt.
They had to separate for a while to rid themselves
of their shoes, her slacks, and his jeans, but
within seconds they were both naked. Scully moved
over Mulder, straddling his lap. The shocking
feeling of her breasts against his bare chest
allowed his mind to grab control...for a few
moments.

"Bedroom?" he whispered.

"No. Here." Scully's voice sounded desperate. Who
was he to turn down the request of a desperate
woman?

With one last remaining logic cell in his brain,
Mulder reached his hand down between her legs to
prepare her, only to find her already dripping
wet. Her hips were rocking slightly in
anticipation, and when he touched her, ever so
lightly, she thrust herself against his hand.
"Jeez!" he moaned, grabbing her by the waist to
still her. His erection had become painful, and
there was only one way to ease it.

He shoved his hips upward just as she let herself
rock into him. Their movements were perfectly
timed, and he slid easily past her folds and into
her body. She was hot. And wet. And tight. So
tight.

"Oh, Mulder," she moaned, and she began to rock
her hips again. It felt far different than the
normal thrust and pull of missionary sex. Scully's
movements were small, but he could tell that they
caused him to rub along her clit, and she
gave a tiny whimper after every small thrust. It
felt wonderful. He could do this all day. But he
still hurt. He needed more.

"Scully," he said, his voice harsh sounding. Her
eyes, which she had closed after his entry,
opened. They were glazed looking, and more erotic
than anything he had seen or done yet. "Scully!"
His soft shout was a warning of sorts, and Scully
tightened the hold she had on his shoulders. He
grabbed her waist and, pushing off the floor with
his feet and off the couch with his right hand,
stood slightly, turned, and threw her onto her
back on the couch, letting himself fall over her
and into her. He never once left the heat of her
body.

"Oh!" Scully squealed in surprise as he proceeded
to thrust into her, hard. But she immediately
picked up the pace and arched her hips up to meet
his. "Mulder!" she said, again, her voice still
higher than normal.

"What," he said through clenched teeth, "did
you...call...me?" His breathing was ragged.

"Mulder," she responded, just as breathless. She
had brought her legs up to encircle his waist. He
continued to pound into her, merciless.

"No," he continued. "That's not what you
meant...was it?"

He saw her passion filled eyes fill with confusion
for a moment, then he saw the startled look that
quickly replaced it. He felt her body tense. Every
muscle became tight, including the one squeezing
him from inside.

"FOX!!!!!!!!"

The contractions inside her body, combined with
her scream, brought about his own release.
"YES!!!!!" he yelled in response to both her and
his orgasm.

Then he blacked out.

**************************************************

When Scully came to, the first thing she became
aware of was Mulder's body sprawled, unmoving, on
top of her. His face buried in her neck, his shaft
buried in her body. 'What the hell just happened?'
she asked herself. "Mulder?" she said, her voice
rough. She relaxed her ankles, which she had
hooked behind is back, letting her feet fall to
the cushions beneath her.

"Hmmmm?" He moved upon hearing her voice, opening
his eyes and breathing in deeply. Then he suddenly
jerked upward, hoisting himself onto his elbows,
taking his weight off her upper body. "What
happened?"

She felt herself smile. "I was just asking myself
that." She paused as he looked at her with
confused eyes. "I think we both passed out."

"No way. That does NOT happen. That's only a
myth." His voice was just as rough as hers.
Suddenly, fear filled his eyes. "Oh, Scully. I
didn't want it to happen that way." He pushed
himself all the way off of her, sitting up on the
couch. Scully moaned softly as their connection
was broken; she was suddenly empty again. Mulder
had his elbows on his knees and his face in his
hands.

She sat up next to him. "What do you mean?" She
placed her hand on his shoulder, loving the feel
of his smooth skin, still slick with sweat.

"I wanted slow. Romantic. Instead I take you on
the damn couch like some fucking dog after a bitch
in heat." He refused to look at her.

She shivered as she remembered his powerful body
looming over her, hammering into her. "I almost
feel like a bitch in heat," she whispered.

He swung his head toward her. "Scully! I could
have hurt you!"

She laughed. "Mulder! You would never hurt me. I
don't care how out of control you get; I KNOW you
would never hurt me." She brought her hand up to
his hair, threading the sweaty strands through her
fingers. "Besides, I was more than ready. After
seven years of foreplay, who wouldn't be?"

He stared at her for a while, then slowly smiled.
"Yeah. I guess you're right. But I still wanted
long and slow. A bed. Candles. The works."

She smiled again and moved to straddle him once
more. "We'll have enough time for that later." She
settled on his thighs. "But for right now, I don't
want to change a thing." She felt him stir against
her belly and looked down. God, he was huge, even
at rest. "My, my. We are fast at recovery, aren't
we?"

Mulder actually blushed. He brought his hands up
and around her, sweeping them up and down her
back. She shivered and he smiled as he felt it.
"You aren't mad at me for taking charge the first
time?"

Her laugh was low and throaty. "Mulder. I have
never experienced anything quite like what we just
did. It was absolutely incredible. You actually
think I'm mad at you for it?" She leaned in and
kissed him, moaning into his mouth when he brought
his hands around to play with her breasts.

"Scully?" he said when he came up for air.

"Hmmmm?" She had started kissing his neck, slowly
working her way down.

"You know why I didn't want you to call me 'Fox'?"

She stopped her journey and raised her head to
look at him. "Why?"

"Because I knew from the start that I could love
you, and I didn't want to. I tried to keep the
relationship professional. Last name only." He
reached up and brushed her hair off her forehead.
"But it didn't work."

Scully swallowed hard when she saw the tears in
his beautiful eyes. With a sigh, she blinked
several times, trying to keep her own at bay.
"Mulder...Fox...It doesn't matter to me what
your name is." She tilted her face up and kissed
his forehead. "I love YOU, not a name."

His smile was brilliant. "Ditto, Dana Katherine
Scully, soon to be Mulder." He took her mouth
again in a deep, wet kiss. "You'll always be
Scully to me," he said when he pulled away. "I
hope you don't mind?"

She shook her head. "No. I don't mind. As long as
I get to call you Fox when we're alone."

"Deal."

He reached down between them and inserted two long
fingers inside her, causing a new wave of moisture
to saturate them both.

"Ahhhhh." Scully found herself speechless.

"Is this okay?" Mulder asked.

"Oh, yessssssssss." She rested her forehead on his
shoulder.

"More?"

She could only nod her head against him.

He pushed both fingers further inside and bent
them slightly upward. Scully's hips jerked sharply
and she gasped. "Mulder!" she moaned.

"Yes?"

"More!"

Slowly, he began to push his fingers in and out,
bending them at just the right moment to cause
more friction, and his thumb began to rub an even
more sensitive spot. Scully's mind dimmed, her
vision became a riot of color, and she found
herself on the edge all too soon. And it was there
that he left her. She groaned, mad she hadn't gone
over, yet glad as well. Even though her mind was
fuzzy, she had a feeling Mulder wasn't done with
her yet.

When she felt his thick shaft penetrate her, she
sighed in utter happiness, and began rocking. This
time, she knew Mulder would let her set the pace
and finish in this position, even if it killed
him. Slowly, she rode him. Up. Down. Forward.
Back. A slight twist of the hips here. A squeeze
of her internal muscles, muscles she had never
thought she'd ever use again, there. She leaned far
back, opening her legs even wider, allowing him to
push himself into her to the hilt. She was proud
of the fact that her small body could take him
all, but not surprised. They were made for each
other, after all.

When she sat up again, his eyes popped open. They
were glazed over with passion, but there was a
suspicious glint in them, too. Scully was ready
for anything. She leaned into him and spoke
against his lips. "Bring it on, baby."

He smiled, then grabbed her shoulders and pushed
her upper body back again. Then he leaned forward
and took a nipple in his mouth. He suckled her,
ran his tongue along the peak, then suckled some
more. With every pull of his mouth, her vagina
clasped around him tighter, until they were both
moaning uncontrollably in time with their
synchronized, erotic dance.

It came without warning for both of them, and at
exactly the same moment. Mulder pulled his head up
and their eyes met as they fell over the edge
together.

**************************************************

It was two in the morning before they finally made
it to Scully's bed, where they promptly fell
asleep. When the early morning sun woke Mulder, he
found himself literally wrapped around her. It was
not an uncomfortable feeling. In fact, he thought
he would enjoy waking up this way every day. He
closed his eyes, intent on going back to sleep,
when the phone rang. Scully jerked in his arms. In
a reflexive move, he pulled away from her and
reached for the phone.

"Mulder..." Scully's sleepy voice came from behind
him.

"I got it."

"No. Wait." She reached for him, but it was too
late.

"Hello?"

Silence.

"Hello?" he tried again. His brain was finally
waking up to where he was. To what phone he was
answering.

"Fox?"

Mulder sat bolt upright. "Mrs. Scully?"

"Yes." He could swear he heard a smile in her
voice. Scully was reaching around him, trying to
grab the phone. Mulder eluded her.

"Ummm, would you like to talk to Scully?" he asked
tentatively.

"No. That won't be necessary. I was just going to
ask her how her evening went." She paused. "But I
have a feeling it went very well. Tell her I said
'hello', Fox."

"I will. Goodbye, Mrs. Scully." He couldn't stop a
wide smile from forming on his face.

"Goodbye, Fox." With that, she hung up.

Mulder placed the phone back in its cradle and
flopped back down on the mattress. Scully was
leaning on one elbow, a slightly stunned look on
her face. "Mulder?"

"Your mom told me to tell you 'hi'."

Scully eyed him for a while, then she smiled
slightly. "At least it was her and not Skinner."

"Skinner make a habit of calling you at 6 in the
morning?"

"Only when it's to get you out of trouble."

"Too late for that now, don't you think?" He
reached up with one arm and pulled her back down
next to him.

They lay like this for a while, silent and
content. Then Scully spoke. "What are you
thinking?"

"I'm thinking about how it took a near-death
experience to get us to admit our feelings for
each other. We've both faced death many times.
Separately and together. But never with so much
time to actually think about AND admit the truth
to each other." He looked at her. "Why? Why did we
wait so long?"

Scully shrugged. "I don't know, Mulder." She
leaned over him, planting a kiss on his chest.
"And I'm not going to worry about it. We're
together now, and that's all that matters."

He nodded. "You're right. So. Dana. What's for
breakfast?"

She looked at him, eyebrows raised over her
patented Scully glare. "You're asking me?"

"Hey! I cooked dinner!"

She groaned and slid out of the bed. "All right.
I'll go see what I've got...after I shower."

Mulder folded his hands under his head and watched
her walk across the room naked. "Hey, Scully?"

She stopped at the bathroom door. "Yes?" How could
someone look so cute and so sexy at the same time?
he thought.

"I love you."

She seemed flustered at his simple words. Then she
smiled. "I think I'm going to need someone to
scrub my back. Interested?"

Mulder was out of the bed in a flash, and followed
her smiling face into the bathroom.

THE END

How do you define normal?