From: <virtuesandvices@aol.com>
To: <XFilesNC17ff@yahoogroups.com>
Subject: [XFNC17ff] Let's Get This Show on the Road, by Virtie(NC-17, MSR, 
Angst)
Date: Sunday, December 02, 2001 12:53 PM

Title: Let's Get This Show on the Road
Author: Virtie
E-Mail: virtuesandvices@aol.com
Website: http://www.geocities.com/fanficcorner/
Rating: NC-17
Category: SRA - Story/Romance/Angst
Classification: MSR, Angst, Mild Violence, Post-ep
Spoilers: Pusher
Archive: You bet...but let me know first, please. And keep
my name with it.
Summery: A follow up to one of the X-Files' greatest
episodes (in my humble opinion) "Pusher".
Disclaimer: Repeat after me: I do not own these characters,
or the first part of this story. But, since I'm not making
any money off either, why should it bother anyone?
Author's Note: This story was inspired by a statement in the
book X-Treme Possibilities, written by Paul Cornell, Martin
Day and Keith Topping about the end of the episode: "...they
hold hands at the end, playing with each other's fingers. If
they were ever close to going home and shagging like
bunnies, this is the point." Yeah, baby!
Dedication: You know, I haven't dedicated one story to the
two people that are probably the most instrumental in making
me want to write. David and Gillian, I know you'll never
read this, but thanks for eight (and maybe more?) wonderful
years.

*****

Fairfax Mercy Hospital
Fairfax County, Virginia

Special Agent Dana Scully had been in more than a few
dangerous positions in her five years in the FBI, but rarely
had she been this nervous. Her partner was in trouble, and
she was going in alone to try and help him...if he wasn't
already dead. She quickly wiped that possibility from her
mind, and continued down the hall, her low heels softly
clicking on the slightly scuffed linoleum floor. She looked
in the open door off to her left, only to see one of the
endangered patients sleeping soundly in his bed. The steady
beeping coming from the machines at his side was almost
comforting.

She continued on to the next door, which was partially
closed. Carefully, she reached out her arm to slowly push it
open. The weight of her flak jacket seemed to increase as
she noted one of its mates lying on the floor, tangled up
with the Eyes and Ears equipment Lieutenant Brophy had
helped Mulder don not 20 minutes ago outside in the
surveillance van. She lifted her eyes to see that the
patient in this room was also still sleeping...or in a coma.
She pushed the door open further, her heart beating wildly.

She almost fainted with relief when she saw Mulder. He was
sitting at a table with his arms resting on its top, staring
blankly ahead of him. "Mulder!" she said as she shoved the
door open further, then she stopped in shocked surprise as
she saw Modell sitting directly across from her partner.
They were staring at each other. And between Modell's hands
sat the revolver he had taken from a now dead security
guard.

With her mind swirling, Scully cautiously entered the room,
first looking at Mulder, then at Modell, then back at
Mulder. Why wasn't he moving? Why was neither of them
moving? Her attention was on Modell again when he finally
spoke.

"Thanks for joining us," he said softly, his eyes never
leaving Mulder's. Scully realized what was going on.
Somehow, some way, Modell had control of Mulder's mind. Her
partner couldn't move; Modell wouldn't let him. But, in
order to keep control of the FBI agent, Modell couldn't risk
having his concentration broken.

Slowly, Scully made her way closer to the table. "We've got
a dozen law enforcement officers outside in the hall," she
said, her voice low. "Another thirty in the parking lot."

"Regular convention," Modell commented jokingly. But, his
voice was strained, and Scully noticed for the first time
the sweat that was literally dripping down the man's face
and neck. He was working incredibly hard to keep control of
the man sitting across from him, and the strain was showing,
not only in his face, but in the tenseness of his body as
well.

She glanced at Mulder and saw that his face was also covered
in sweat, and the muscles in his bare arms trembled
slightly, as if they were pushing against a wall, even
though they lay flat on the table, palms down. His eyes were
burning with hatred.

Scully continued. "So whatever you've got planned, it's not
going to work out the way you want it to."

Angrily, Modell growled, "You don't know what I got
planned."

Slowly, Scully made her way to the third chair, carefully
lowering herself into it. Modell picked up the gun as Scully
sat, as if making sure she wouldn't try and make a grab for
it. Scully watched it for a moment, then glanced at Mulder
again. She saw him swallow, and the movement in his throat
caused a couple of drops of sweat to speed down his neck,
but no other part of him moved.

Modell opened the chamber of the weapon in his hand, and
casually began to talk. "Two warriors of equal skill fight
to the death. One is a student of Japanese budo... the way
of war." He began to spin the chamber, and Scully's mind
jumped to a horrible, impossible thought. He wasn't...?
"Budo teaches the warrior to leave himself outside of the
battle. In other words..." he snapped the chamber shut. "To
disregard his own death."

Turning the revolver around so the butt was facing Mulder,
Modell set the gun down onto the table. "Because of that,
the budo warrior always wins," he continued, his voice
getting stronger, more confident. "I am that warrior. I
don't fear my death." He carefully slid the gun across the
table toward Mulder. "So I'm going to give you," he
swallowed, "one pull of the trigger against me."

Scully had to stifle a gasp. He was. He was playing Russian
roulette. And he was making Mulder pull the trigger. She
looked at her partner, hoping to grab his attention. But as
before, Mulder's eyes never left Modell's. And the hatred
she saw in them frightened her.

"One in six chance," Modell quipped.

Mulder finally moved for the first time since Scully had
entered the room. He brought his right hand forward and
placed it on the handle of the gun. But, before he could
pick the weapon up, Modell slapped his own hand down on top
of his adversary's.

"One..." he stuttered. "One pull." For a moment, Scully
thought Mulder might have regained control. And maybe, for
one moment, he had. But Modell had it back now. He lifted
his hand away from Mulder's and sat back.

Mulder lifted the weapon, placing his finger on the trigger,
and aimed it at Modell.

"Wait!" Scully said sharply, trying hard to keep her fear
and desperation out of her voice. "Mulder, look... there's
pure oxygen in this room," she said, trying to use logic to
get through to both her partner and Modell. She heard the
chamber turn as Mulder cocked the weapon. "There's no
telling what could happen if you pull that trigger--"

Mulder pulled the trigger anyway. No hesitation. No fear.
Scully gasped aloud. The chamber was empty.

To her left, Modell exhaled heavily and his shoulders sagged
slightly. He smirked. "Piece of cake," he mumbled. "Your
turn."

The meaning of his words hit Scully straight in the gut. She
looked to her right. Mulder showed no signs of refusing
Modell's 'order'. "Mulder, no," she said firmly, praying her
voice could get through whatever force was holding her
partner down.

"Mulder, yes," Modell countered without hesitation. But, the
words were once again strained. He was 'pushing' hard, now.
Maybe Mulder could hear her after all. But, it didn't
matter. If she didn't do something soon...

"Go." The word was solid. Forceful.

"Mulder, listen to me. Give me the gun." Scully could hear
her fear seeping into her voice. And she could smell it, the
horrible aroma intermingling with the smell of the sweat
emanating from the two combatants. "We can stop this thing
right now," she continued. "You and I can walk out of this
room--"

She never finished. In one fluid motion, Mulder cocked the
gun, tilted his head, and pointed it at his temple. Wincing,
he pulled the trigger.

Scully felt her heart stop as she jumped up from her chair,
barely registering that this chamber had also been empty.
"No!" she screamed, pounding her hands on the table. "Damn
you! You bastard!" she yelled at Modell, fighting the tears
that had suddenly filled her eyes. She boldly reached for
the weapon in her partner's hand. "Mulder, hand me the g--"

Mulder jerked his body straight and slapped her away from
him. His venomous gaze landed on Modell and he aimed the gun
at the man in front of him. Scully stood tense, refusing to
blink for fear of making her water filled eyes blur.

With a soft, pain-filled exhalation, Mulder swung his arm
around to point the gun at Scully.

She felt her eyes widen, and her stalled heart began to beat
again, much too quickly. For the first time since she had
entered this room, she met her partner's eyes. Instead of
the terrible anger she had seen in them when his gaze had
been directed at Modell, she saw fear. Complete, undiluted
fear.

For her.

"Mulder, you don't have to do this," she whispered, praying
her voice would give him strength. Strength to fight Modell.
"You're stronger than this."

"Your turn, Scully," Modell said, his voice angry. "Gotta
play by the rules. Pull the trigger, Mulder."

Scully never looked away from her partner. "Mulder, fight
him," she demanded, trying to counter Modell's command. She
felt her left eye overflow, and she knew Mulder saw the tear
run down her cheek. "You can fight this."

Modell must have feared he was losing some control, because
he continued to speak. "Come on! Pull the trigger, Mulder."
It was obvious by his voice that Modell wanted Mulder to do
as he said *now*. But Mulder hadn't pulled the trigger, yet.
"She shot you. I read it in her file. Payback time. Shoot
the little spy!"

Scully knew Mulder was fighting Modell as hard as he could,
and that it would be a battle he would soon lose. She had to
do something. If Mulder killed her now, there was no doubt
in her mind he would willingly, without Modell's help, kill
himself later. She looked up, noticing their reflection in
the mirror directly across from where she stood. The red
fire alarm was clearly visible over her shoulder in the
hallway behind her. If she could just get to that...

"I'm going to kill you, Modell!" Mulder's growl caused her
to look at him once more. Though he was still looking at
her, his eyes had filled with the same hate she had heard in
his voice. Directed toward Modell.

"Yeah!" Modell cheered, seemingly unfazed by Mulder's words.
"Pull the trigger, you get another crack at me!" If Scully
didn't 'win' the bullet, that is. Slowly, she began to back
out of the room.

Mulder's eyes focused on Scully again. His brow furrowed,
and pain filled his face. "Scully, run!" he demanded. Then
his expression became pleading. "Scully..." he whispered,
his torture apparent. He drew his lower lip into his mouth,
almost biting it hard enough to bleed. His finger was
squeezing the trigger. The chamber was beginning to turn.
She met his eyes one last time, then she turned and ran to
the alarm, pulling it, fully expecting to die with a bullet
to the back of the head. Mulder was an expert shot. He
wouldn't miss.

The alarm blared. Scully turned sharply to face the men
behind her. She saw Modell look at her with shock. She saw
Mulder look at him with anger. Modell gasped and his eyes
widened as Mulder pointed the gun at him. Without
hesitation, Mulder pulled the trigger.

Modell was slammed backward in his chair, then he slumped to
the floor. Mulder stood, grabbing the table in front of him
and throwing it over on its side so he could see the fallen
man. Raising the gun once more, he continued to pull the
trigger, even though all the chambers were now empty.
*CLICK*CLICK*CLICK* Scully barely noticed the SWAT members
racing down the hall toward her as she walked stiffly back
into the room, watching Mulder with morbid fascination. The
clicking of the empty gun resounded throughout the room,
despite the shouts coming from Brophy and his men.

"Federal Agents!" the Lieutenant yelled, unaware of what was
going on in the room. "Get down! Get down! Get down!" The
agents swept into the room, immediately lowering their
weapons when they saw Modell on the floor.

Scully never took her eyes off her partner. She watched as
he seemed to gradually come back to himself. His body went
limp, and he slowly fell back into his chair. Without
looking up, he reached behind him and handed the gun to
Scully. Gently, she took it from him, then stood watch as he
put his face in his hands, his elbows on his knees, his body
shaking with reaction.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the fire
alarm. Soon, even that went dead.

*****

Fairfax Mercy Hospital
Fairfax County, Virginia

Mulder stood looking down at the man in the bed, trying
vainly to control the disgust that filled him. Disgust at
the man hooked up to the respirator. Disgust at himself for
putting the man there. Disgust at himself for not making
sure the man was in the morgue instead. And, most of all,
disgust at what he had almost done to his partner.
He had almost shot Scully. He had almost killed the only
thing in his life that had any real meaning anymore. Not
only did he fear a life without Scully by his side, but to
be the one responsible... He had been so close to pulling
that trigger. She must hate him. Or at least fear him. He
wouldn't blame her for either. He hated and feared himself
right now.

He felt her enter the room behind him and turned to look at
her. She glanced at him, but then glanced away quickly, as
if she was unable to meet his eyes. She looked at Modell
instead. He tried to read the expression in her eyes, but
couldn't. He watched her, his heart aching. Had he lost her
forever?

"There's no telling how long he'll hang on," she said
softly. He wondered if she was talking that way out of
respect for the man in the hospital bed, or if she was doing
it for fear of setting him off. After all, it wasn't more
than three hours ago, in this very hospital, that he had
nearly killed her. "But he'll never regain consciousness,"
she continued, completely unaware of the thoughts running
through his mind.

She looked at him, expecting a response, so he nodded
slightly. Best to stay professional, he thought. Maybe there
was still a chance they could still work together. "You
know," he told her, changing the subject in his mind. "We
thought he was undergoing treatment. We were wrong."

"What do you mean?" Scully asked, facing him now. There was
no fear or anger in her blue eyes. Just genuine curiosity.
"Read his chart," Mulder told her. "The M.R.I.s were a way
to gauge how much life he had left, but he consistently
refused treatment." He looked at the man in the bed, feeling
his hatred for Modell heat up again. "The tumor remained
operable right up until the end, but he refused to have it
removed."

"Why?" Scully's voice sounded shaky.

"I think it was like you said," Mulder told her. "He was
always such a... little man." He shrugged. "This was finally
something that made him feel big." He heard the loathing
that dripped from his voice. The bastard. Despite the fact
that he was dying in a hospital bed, he had won. He had
defeated Mulder. Mulder's whole body stiffened in anger.
Never had he felt such hatred for a human before.

Suddenly, he felt Scully's hand, cool and soft, gently grasp
his. He looked down at her in surprise, and felt warmth
flood through him at the look in her unwavering gaze.
Concern. Pride. Love? No, he was imagining that.

"I say we don't let him take up another minute of our time,"
she said softly, squeezing his fingers slightly. He let his
own fingers close around hers, the simple contact doing more
for his psyche than any words ever could.

She released him suddenly, and turned to leave. With one
last glare at Modell, Mulder turned and followed her.

She was waiting for him at the entrance, her eyes searching
his face. He didn't know what exactly she was looking for,
but when the worry didn't leave her eyes, he guessed she
hadn't found it. With a grimace, he reached past her and
opened the door, tentatively placing his hand at her back to
urge her through. Her body was stiff, and he felt his heart
sink. But, then she turned to face him, her eyes unusually
bright.

"Mulder," she said quickly. "Come over to my place tonight.
I'll make you dinner."

That was the last thing he had expected her to say. "What?"

She smiled slightly. "I know you're probably not very
hungry, but I don't think either of us has eaten all day,
and we need to." She reached up and touched his shoulder. He
swore he could feel the heat of her hand through both his
suit and coat. "Please?"

He stood silent for a moment. Then, he nodded. "Okay. Let me
go shower and change, then I'll meet you at your place."

Her smile was astonishingly bright. It shocked him into
speechlessness. Which was okay, seeing as she didn't expect
him to speak. "Great. I'll see you in a bit."

She turned and walked away toward her car, leaving an
astounded and confused Mulder in her wake.

*****

Dana Scully's Apartment
7:30 P.M.

Scully looked at herself critically in the mirror above her
bathroom sink. Should she change? Should she put on makeup?
Should she...?

Smiling ruefully at her reflection, she decided to leave
everything as it was. She had showered after arriving back
at her apartment, and as she dressed she had decided to
leave her 'mask' off; after all, it was just Mulder coming
over, not Brad Pitt. But then she had noticed the dark
circles under her eyes. The mole on her upper lip. The
paleness of her face. She sighed and shrugged. After all,
he'd seen her in much worse condition.

Her glance swept down to her clothing. She had changed into
sweats and a loose, knit T-shirt...with no bra. The clothing
was okay for a casual dinner with a friend, but maybe the
braless think wasn't a good idea. It wasn't that Scully
needed it for physical support...not yet, anyway...but it
offered mental support, too. Around Mulder. In college, she
had often gone without, even amongst her male friends, and
had never felt uncomfortable. Wasn't Mulder a friend? He
wouldn't care, would he? Would he even notice? Yes. She knew
he would. Mulder may treat her as a friend and trusted
partner, but he noticed her as a woman, too. Maybe...

The sound of a knock interrupted her thoughts. Well, too
late to change now. With another sigh, she left the
bathroom, passing through the kitchen to check on the
potatoes baking in the oven. Two steaks sat on the counter,
waiting to be cooked. Scully wasn't much of red-meat eater,
but Mulder was. And tonight was for him. She turned to the
door just as the impatient man on the other side gave
another knock.

"Scully?"

"Coming," she replied as she reached the door. Flipping the
bolt, she opened it to let him in. His face seemed even more
drawn than hers had been in the mirror and his eyes were
shadowed. He watched her for a moment, as if he was unsure
about entering. "Mulder?" She opened the door wider. "Are
you coming in?"

With a stiff nod, he stepped through. When she had last seen
him at the hospital, he had been in a suit and trench coat.
Like her, he had changed into more casual attire: jeans and
black T-shirt, boots and leather jacket. His hands were
stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, and he kept his head
down, almost as if he was a child afraid of getting yelled
at by his parents. It wasn't often she saw him so subdued.

She closed her door, automatically flipping the bolt, and
noticed how he seemed to tense at the sound. She stepped
toward him, concern filling her. "Mulder, are you all
right?"

He looked up at her. "Yeah. Sure." He shrugged. "Just a
little tired."

Scully folded her arms over her chest. "I know what you
mean." Glancing back toward her kitchen, she continued. "I
bought a couple of steaks. Maybe that will give you some
more energy." She turned back to him, a small smile on her
face, only to find him staring at her chest. Embarrassment
flooded through her. Yep. He noticed. Lowering her arms so
the material across her breasts would relax, she stepped
past him. "I'm no expert on steaks, but I've been told I'm
pretty good at preparing them. How do you want yours?"

His eyes had been tracking her across the room, but at her
question they widened and he met her gaze. "I'm sorry,
what?"

Still embarrassed, but now amused as well, Scully headed for
the kitchen. "Why don't you take your jacket off and come
help me get dinner ready?"

She heard him do as she asked behind her, then took note of
the cool kitchen floor underneath her bare feet. "Oh, and
Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"Take those shoes off, please." She didn't like the idea of
getting her toes smushed as he helped her.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, his voice dry. She smiled and
placed the steaks on the waiting pan.

The next hour was spent just as she had hoped it would when
she had first invited him over. As Mulder made a salad and
Scully prepared the steaks, they talked about nothing in
particular. Mulder teased. She reciprocated mildly, which
seemed to please him to no end. He seemed to enjoy the meal
when they were finally able to sit down to it, and the
darkness that had followed him since that morning
dissipated.

But the shadows remained in his eyes.

The clean-up was subdued, but comfortable. Scully knew that
her own exhaustion was nothing compared to Mulder's, and the
fact that he was still up and moving when she felt on the
verge of collapse amazed her. Finally, they settled on her
couch.

Scully let her eyes close as she rested her head on the back
of the sofa. She was drifting on a wonderful, soft cloud of
sleep when Mulder's voice, husky and deep, invaded her
unconscious. It was a welcome invader.

"We should do this more often."

Smiling, she turned her head toward him without opening her
eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, we should." Lazily, she lifted her
eyelids.

He was staring at her in the same way he had been looking at
her in Modell's hospital room earlier tonight; with a
mixture of fear, pain and guilt. But this time, she thought
she recognized hope, as well. She opened her eyes wider and
sat up. "Thank you, Mulder."

His expression turning incredulous, Mulder leaned away from
her. "For what?!"

She sighed. "For so many things." She drew her leg up under
her so she could face him, resting her right arm on the back
of the couch. "For coming here tonight. For your concern and
affection for me." She ignored he snort of disbelief. "For
being my friend."

"Affection?" he asked her, anger growing in his eyes. Scully
felt her face heat. "You think that's all it is?"

Furrowing her brow, Scully asked, "What do you mean?"

Ignoring her, he continued. "Some friend I am," he growled.
He pushed himself off the couch and walked toward the
window. Scully couldn't help but notice that, despite his
weariness and anger, he still moved with an almost sensual
grace.

Shaking her head to get rid of any irrelevant thoughts,
Scully stood and followed him. "Mulder, I know what happened
today was hard on you, but..."

He turned on her, and Scully was shocked to see the same
torture in his eyes that had been there when he had been
pointing a gun at her. She had hoped to never see that look
again.

"Hard?!" he practically shouted, making her jump. "Scully,
you have no clue!"

"Oh, really?" she said, raising her eyebrows as well as her
voice. "No clue that you're beating yourself up over this?
No clue that you're trying your best to hate yourself for
what almost happened? I know what I see in your eyes,
Mulder. And it scares me."

"You should be scared, Scully." He backed away from her.
"And I'm not trying to hate myself. I'm already there."

His expression had gone blank, and this scared Scully more
than the pain and guilt she had seen earlier. "Why?" she
demanded. "Are you really feeling that bad about shooting
Modell?" She hoped to draw him out with the question,
knowing it wasn't true. He was pulling into himself, and she
had to stop it before it was too late.

"Are you kidding?!" Scully felt a spark of victory when she
saw the anger in his eyes return. "I wish I'd killed the
bastard!" She winced at the venom in his voice, but accepted
it.

"Then it's the fact that you almost shot me that's bothering
you?"

His lips tightened and he stood up tall, staring down at her
with what almost looked like contempt. Softly, in a voice so
low and dark it sent a shiver of apprehension up her back,
he said, "I *was* going to shoot you."

"But you didn't," she argued.

He closed his eyes tightly, and she could tell his jaw was
clenched just as tight; she could almost hear his teeth
grinding.

She stepped forward and touched him on the arm. His eyes
flew open and he swung his arm up and out of her grasp. With
a groan, he pushed past her. She let him go, watching as he
grabbed his boots off the floor by the door and kneeled down
to put them on. Slowly, she made her way over to him, her
arms folded. "Where are you going?" she asked softly.

Without looking at her, he said, "Home." Tying the last
lace, he stood again. Grabbing his jacket off the rack on
his right, he looked at her. "Thanks for dinner," he said,
but there was no gratitude in his voice. "Thanks for trying
to make things normal again." He shook his head. "But it's
not going to be the same ever again. It shouldn't be. I
almost killed you. For no other reason than that some man
told me to. How can you even stand to be in the same room
with me?"

"Mul--"

He interrupted her. "Don't make excuses for me, Scully.
You've been doing that for more than two years now. It's not
worth it." He glanced down her body again, his gaze
lingering on her chest, then met her eyes. The desolation
she saw there terrified her. "I'm not worth it."

With that, he released the bolt on her door, opened it, and
left.
*****

Fox Mulder's Apartment
8:49 P.M.

Mulder didn't remember driving back to his place, but when
he reached his door, he became thankful he had arrived in
one piece. 'Then again,' he thought to himself, 'maybe it
would have been better had I not made it back at all.'

It wasn't the first time he had had these self-destructive
thoughts. For a time when he was seventeen, amongst the
pressures of his senior year at high school, deciding on a
college, and his divorced parents constant animosity toward
each other, he had come very close to suicide. But he had
been determined not to become another statistic and had
trudged on with life instead. College had been better. Far
away from his family and memories of Samantha, he had
started over in England. A new confidence had emerged.
Confidence with his mind. With his position in life. With
women. Well, the latter had slipped a bit after he
discovered Phoebe's liaison with one of her Professors.

The FBI had only increased that confidence, and since the
X-Files, he had developed an 'I Don't Care' attitude that
allowed him to do what he did without constantly judging
himself. Then Scully had come along. Smart, energetic little
Scully. A tiny red-haired dynamo so determined to not
believe, but so faithful to him. It made him sick to think
of what she might be doing with her life, her career, if she
hadn't been assigned to the X-Files. If she had never known
him. It made him more sick to think of where he might be if
he had never known her.

Locking his door behind him, Mulder threw his jacket at the
wall and stalked into his living room, throwing himself down
on the couch. He had known what Scully was up to tonight,
but he hadn't thought she would nearly succeed. Asking him
to dinner had been her way of saying she forgave him; her
way of trying to mend the damage he had done in their
relationship. And for a while, he had thought it was going
to work. But the horrible vision he had created inside his
head that morning had continued to dog him, until it was all
he could see:

Scully, fear and concern flooding her beautiful blue eyes, a
tear running down her cheek. Trust. Trust in him. Faith that
he would never hurt her. The cool clammy feeling of the gun
in his sweaty grip. The power of Modell's will, pushing at
him. He tried to push back, but he was tired. He was losing.
No. No, don't squeeze. *BANG* The gun firing. The bullet
hitting Scully. The surprise in her eyes, the betrayal. Then
nothing. No emotion. Her gaze empty as she fell to the
ground.

He shook the image away. Modell would be dead if that had
happened. No ifs, ands or buts about it. With no more
bullets and no other weapons, he would have had to take out
Pusher with his bare hands, but he would have. He could feel
the man's weak throat under his hands even now. Squeezing.
Harder. Tighter. Dead. He would have been dead.

Just like he would have been dead if there had been more
than one bullet in that gun today.

And then Mulder would have retrieved his own gun and
followed Scully. Only he knew he wouldn't have joined
Scully. He knew he would not have gone where living angels
like her go after death, wherever that may be.

Mulder squeezed his eyes closed, feeling the tears that had
threatened all day slide down his cheeks. He couldn't do it.
The might-have-beens were too powerful. He would go to
Skinner tomorrow and request that Scully be transferred out
of the X-Files. She would never do it herself; she was too
stubborn. But he had to make her leave him before she was
taken against her will. This wasn't self-destruction
anymore. This was self-preservation. Because if she was
taken from him, he would die.

He didn't know how long he had been sitting there before he
heard the key in his lock. Rage filled him. Why couldn't she
leave well enough alone?! He stood to face her as she
entered, squinting as the light from the hallway flooded his
dark apartment. She closed the door behind her and reached
for the light switch.

"No!" he said forcefully.

She jumped, and he knew that she couldn't yet see him, but
she pulled her hand back away from the switch anyway.

"Just get the hell out of here, Scully."

"No."

"Jesus!" he shouted, not caring if the neighbors heard. "Why
the hell are you here? Didn't you get it that you can't say
anything to make this right?"

She was silent for a while. "I didn't come here to talk."

Mulder's head was beginning to throb and he put his hand up
to his forehead, massaging his temples. "Then do I even want
to know why you're here?"

She moved forward, leaving the foyer and entering the living
room. "I can't let you think what you do," she said softly.

"Do you even really know what I think?" he growled.

"I think that that amazing sense of guilt you seem to have
been born with is working overtime tonight."

He laughed, the sound harsh. "And you think you can change
it, don't you? That's what dinner was all about tonight,
wasn't it? You trying to convince me we could continue on as
if this hadn't happened. As if I hadn't stuck a gun in your
face with the full intent to pull the trigger?"

"It wasn't your intent, Mulder!" Her voice was strong now.
Her anger growing. Good, he thought. If I get her angry
enough, maybe she'll leave.

"How do you know?"

This time, it was she who laughed. "You expect me to believe
you really wanted to kill me?"

"Maybe Modell was right. Maybe I have never forgiven you for
shooting me last year."

Scully nodded, a smirk on her face. She stepped forward
again, her eyes meeting his now that she had adjusted to the
dark. "Okay, I'll buy that. Along with knowledge that
anything Cancer Man says is the gospel truth."

Okay, so getting her mad wasn't working. She always loved a
good argument. So how do you get her out and away, Mulder?

"I'm going to request a transfer tomorrow."

"You want to transfer?" Worry darkened her eyes.

"No. I'm requesting it for you."

"What?!"

"I don't want to work with you anymore. I'm tired of you
following me around like a little puppy bashing my ideas and
theories while trying to make me think you're the hottest
thing out there."

Humor filled her eyes as she bit her lower lip to keep from
smiling. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't realize--"

"Of course you didn't," Mulder scoffed, his heart aching.
"I'm sure you love all the rumors about us."

She paused, tilting her head. "What are you talking about?"

"You just told me you didn't come here to talk, Agent
Scully. Then why are you here?"

She folded her arms and glared at him. Her movements brought
to his attention that although she had slipped on a pair of
sneakers and her coat, she hadn't changed clothing.
Meaning... "And I don't suppose you put on a bra, either."

She drew in a sharp breath and pulled herself up as tall as
she could. Somehow, despite that fact that he still towered
above her, he felt small. "What exactly are you implying,
Agent Mulder?" She put an emphasize on the 'agent'.

"What better way to try and convince me I'm something than
by offering yourself to me?" Mulder knew he had just nailed
his coffin shut, but as long as she was still alive above
ground, he didn't care.

She stood silent, her mouth open in astonishment, her eyes
wide and luminous, even without makeup to enhance them.
Damn, he thought. Why did she have to be just as beautiful
without makeup as she was with? No woman should be that
lucky. Then she moved...not away from him as he had hoped,
but toward him. She stopped just short of touching him,
looking up at him, her eyes glowing. "If I offered myself to
you, would it work?"

Disgust flowed through him. Not because of her or her words,
but because of the effect those words had on him. Suddenly,
without warning, he was aroused.

Swallowing, he responded in a rough voice. "No."

The pain that flooded her eyes shocked him. She quickly
lowered her gaze and stepped back. Nodding, she smiled
ruefully toward the floor. "You were right. You're not worth
it."

The pain he had seen in her eyes flowed into him.

She turned away without another word and he tried to close
his eyes, not wanting to see her walk away. But he couldn't.
Just like he couldn't let her go. Not yet.

With a growl deep in his throat, he rushed forward, reaching
her just as she opened the door. He reached past her and
shoved his hand against it, causing it to slam shut. She
jumped and turned to face him. He let his momentum continue
to carry him forward into her, pushing her against the door.
He felt a tingle of excitement when he recognized fear in
her eyes, and it scared him. But he didn't move. He didn't
dare give up his advantage.

"You want to know why I'm not worth it, Scully?" he
demanded. "Because you are."

"What?" she whispered harshly, trying to sink into the door
behind her. Away from him.

"You are worth it. You are worth so much more than I can
ever give." He glanced down at their bodies curiously, then
shoved himself against her harder. She gasped, and he knew
she had felt his erection pressing into her belly. "All I
can do is take."

With a suddenness that caught him off guard she slipped out
and away from him, leaving him to fall lightly against the
door. With a grim smile, he turned around, leaning his back
against the wood. She stood a few feet in front of him,
breathing hard. "That was good, Scully. You remember your
training. Of course, you want to try and disable your
attacker, too. Knee him in the groin, maybe."

She glanced down at his crotch and licked her lips. Though
he was sure her actions were purely accidental, he groaned
and felt blood surge to gather at the object of her glance.
She looked up, her eyes wide. The emotion in them was
unreadable. Or maybe he just didn't want to read it.

"What the hell is going on here, Mulder?" Her voice was as
dark as he had ever heard it.

"You tell me, Scully," he responded in kind. "You invite me
to dinner, at your place, in an attempt to make me see that
you hold no grudges. That you forgive me for nearly killing
you. Do you forgive me for your abduction, too? How about
your reputation, Mrs. Spooky? Or what about your sister? Do
you forgive me for that?"

"Mulder, I never blamed you for any of those things--"

"But you should have," he interrupted. "I'm a dangerous man
to know, Scully. I could hurt you over and over and over,
and you would still come crawling back, wouldn't you?"

Her jaw clenched, but she answered around it. "You have
never hurt me intentionally. And you never would."

"And that makes a difference, huh?"

"Yes."

He nodded. "Okay, then. We better change how you see me." He
stepped forward, knowing she wouldn't run, not after what
she just said. So when he reached her and began tugging off
her coat, she didn't move. Then he reached for her shirt,
that damn T-shirt, which hid only bare skin.

She suddenly seemed to realize what he was doing and pulled
away. He followed, intent now on proving to her how
worthless he really was. Grabbing the hem of her shirt with
one hand, he grabbed her around the waist with the other
hand, ripping her shirt up and off. "Mulder!" she shouted,
then her struggles started in earnest and he knew he would
have to back off soon. He didn't intend to follow through on
this threat, but he wanted her to think he would.

She pulled out of his grasp, but he reached for her again
after throwing her shirt across the room, turning her around
to face him. She deftly twisted her wrist to escape him
again, but not before he saw her, bared from the waist up to
his sight. Her perfect breasts, breasts he had often dreamed
about, were now naked to him, standing as proud and defiant
as the woman before him. Rampant desire raged though him,
and he lunged for her once more.

"You asshole!" Scully yelled, fighting him. She tried to
move for her shirt, and he knew she wasn't about to leave
the apartment topless...unless she truly feared he would
rape her. And wasn't that what he wanted to do? Make her
afraid. Make her believe he could hurt her? He grabbed her
around the waist once more and hauled her into his living
room. She squirmed against him, her feet kicking the air,
her fingers tugging at his arms. She was no match for his
strength, he knew. But her training in self-defense would be
more than sufficient to keep this from getting too far out
of control. In the meantime, he was enjoying her struggles,
knowing that whatever maneuver she had planned for him would
more than likely hurt like hell.

But she never tried anything. She fought him, but only
enough to keep him busy in defense. Even as he tugged at her
sweatpants, pulling them easily down  her legs, she fought
only enough to make the action difficult for him. Could she
want this? he wondered. How far would she let him go? His
anger at her apparent compliance was barely overshadowed by
his growing lust. He wanted her. He had wanted her for a
long time. His partnership with her was already over, so why
not give in and take her? If she didn't want it, she would
stop him. And she would hate him.

Grabbing her panties, he pulled them down to mingle with the
sweatpants which were now tangled above her shoes. He let
himself fall to the floor with her, knowing that she would
have the advantage there. Giving her one last chance to get
away. His hand brushed her pubic area and he froze in shock.
She was wet. Oh, God, she was so very wet. His arousal,
already painfully hard due to the excitement brought about
by their struggles, grew even more. He groaned at the
pressure, desperate to free himself from his jeans. He took
a deep breath, noticing as he did so not only the stillness
of the woman sitting next to him, but the smell of her own
arousal.

With another groan, he reached over her to pull off her
shoes. She tried to help, but she was shaking now and wasn't
very dexterous at the moment. Soon the shoes, and her
sweatpants and panties, were off, and Mulder began working
at his own clothing. Scully tried to move away, but his
determination to dominate the situation caused him to grab
her once more. Recklessly, her pulled her up on her knees
facing away from him.

His coffee table was in front of them. The couch was too far
away and the floor behind them was wood. But he needed to be
in her. Now. He leaned her forward toward the table. She
seemed to understand, and she crawled forward on her knees a
few inches so she could grab hold of it. Impatiently, he
unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them and his boxers down
just enough for his shaft to spring free. The cool air on
his heated flesh made him cry out, and Scully tried to turn
to look at him.

"No!" he told her, moving up on his knees behind her. He
placed a hand between her shoulder blades and pushed her
upper body forward onto the table top. He held her there,
unresisting, then used his knees to spread her legs. His
erection sought out her moist warmth, and before he knew it,
he was there, his tip teasing her opening.

He stopped suddenly, his anger fading as he realized what
was about to happen. "Scully?"

"Please, Mulder!" she gasped. "Now!"

With a growl, he grabbed hold of her hips and shoved himself
into her. She was so wet. So hot. And so tight.

"Ahhhh!" Scully's shout was full of pain. Remorse flooded
him, almost annihilating his desire. He began to pull out,
only to be stopped by her groan. This time, there was no
pain in her voice whatsoever. Using her strong arms, she
pushed the table forward across the carpet, then lowered her
upper body to the floor. Mulder watched in amazement as she
lay her cheek flat against the ground and pushed up and back
into him. He felt an internal squeeze and knew it had been
intentionally done by the woman beneath him.

He pulled out, then pushed back in. She countered him,
moving forward as he withdrew, then sliding back when he
thrust in, squeezing him at the same time. Dear, God! How
had she learned to do that?! She was whimpering now, wild,
joyful whimpers that drowned out any fears he had that she
wasn't enjoying this as much as he was. His grip on her hips
tightened. His thrusts became faster. The simple knowledge
that he was fucking Dana Scully from behind on his living
room floor nearly sent him over the edge way too soon. The
fact that she was loving it did.

His testicles tightened and he slammed into her
once...twice...three more times before his release came. His
vision blurred and his body sagged. "Holy shit!"

She was still moving underneath him, and her whimpers were
desperate. He became aware of her fingers, which were
touching and teasing their bodies where they were joined. He
realized what she was trying to do and cursed himself. After
taking so much from this woman, the least he could do was
give her good sex. But here he was, finished, as she tried
desperately to get herself off beneath him.

With another curse, he wrapped his arm around her waist,
pulled out of her, and lifted her upper body up off the
floor. Sitting back on his heels, he pulled her upright and
slid her up so she sat astride his thighs, her sweaty back
to his chest. He held her tightly to him, knowing that if he
let go, she would slide right off his lap. With his free
hand, he pulled her hand away from her center and exchanged
it with his own. She gasped as he slid three of his fingers
deep into her, and he echoed her as he reveled in the heat
he found. He began sliding his fingers in and out, letting
his thumb trail up to play with  her clit. Her head dropped
back onto his shoulder, and she began rocking her hips,
riding his hand.

Since one arm was busy holding her upright and the other was
busy down below, that left only his mouth to make love to
her. He began to nuzzle her ear, tasting the sweat along her
hairline with his tongue. Nibbling. Sucking. Kissing. Her
cheek. Her jaw. Her neck. Anywhere he could reach.

He felt her body stiffen and her movements became wild and
erratic. "Ahh! Ahh! Ahh!" She was holding back. She wasn't
going to let go.

"Please, Scully," Mulder whispered in her ear, his fingers
working her harder. "Please. I want to see you come. I want
to know you're coming for me. Only me."

"Only you," she whispered back. "Only... ahhhhh! Oh, God!"

He held her as she shuddered uncontrollably, watching her
face as the orgasm swept through her, reveling in the beauty
of Dana Scully finally letting go. A fresh wave of moisture
flooded his hand, which he continued to tease her with,
determined to draw out her pleasure as long as possible.
Finally, her body drooped in his arms.

They sat like that for a long time, Mulder's hand cupping
her protectively. When he brought his hand up, she moaned in
displeasure. He looked at it curiously, at the wetness that
enveloped it. It hit him suddenly that it wasn't just her
juices that covered it, but his own semen; he hadn't worn a
condom. She could get pregnant.

So why didn't that bother him?

"Mmmmm..." Scully's humming sounded sated and wonderful to
his ears. With a smile, he shifted slightly, leaning back to
brush away the hair from the back of her neck. Yep. There
was her scar. It was the first time he had seen it since she
had told him about having the implant removed several months
ago. He felt her stiffen and knew she was aware of what he
was looking at.

With a sigh, he kissed her, his tongue tracing the scar. Her
body relaxed once more and her head dropped forward. He
lifted his head. "I'm sorry."

She tensed again. "What?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Scully suddenly pushed away from him, turned to face him on
her knees, brought up her hand, and slapped him.

*****


Fox Mulder's Apartment
9:01 P.M.

Scully had not come to Mulder's apartment to seduce him.

Actually, if asked, she probably would not have been able to
explain why she had followed Mulder home from her place, but
it certainly had not been to seduce him. Or anger him. Maybe
she just wanted to make sure he didn't hurt himself in all
his self-loathing. And she had promised herself that she
wouldn't get mad if he started to abuse himself in front of
her; she would try to stay calm and rational and work things
out. She didn't know how.

She had not expected him to pick a fight with her, saying
things to her that shocked and angered her. And in her
attempt to walk away, she had not expected him to stop her,
slamming the door she had just opened and then using his own
body to slam her against that same door.

And she most definitely had not expected to become aroused
by that act of domination.

Scully had always been too independent for her own good, and
she knew this was why all her previous relationships had
failed; she could never give up control. It wasn't in her.
But tonight, she had wanted to give up every bit of it to
Mulder. She wanted to show him her faith and trust in him.
Her desire. She had fought him only because she knew he
expected her to, but in the end it hadn't mattered. At the
moment he had discovered her arousal, it had become a whole
new game. His act of domination was just that...an act. And
her submission was only temporary.

Even when he had her pinned up against the table, on her
knees, naked and vulnerable, he had asked before taking that
final step.

Oh, it had been wonderful. Painful at first; he was almost
too big for her body, which hadn't known a man's touch in
almost three years. But the pain had been fleeting and the
pleasure immediate. The table had been too tall for her to
lay her upper body on, so she had shoved it away, bringing
her face down to the ground, trying not to think how erotic
her pose was...how naughty. She had never had sex outside of
a bed before, much less allowed a man to take her from
behind like this. But Mulder had led her to fantasize about
this position and many others for the last two years.

She knew Mulder had tried to take her with him, and he had
nearly succeeded, but it had been too much for him. When he
had realized she was attempting to finish herself off, he
had become angry. He had pulled her onto his lap and
finished the job himself, finger fucking her until she
thought she would pass out from the length and intensity of
the orgasm. It was the selflessness behind this action more
than the action itself that made her realize how much she
truly loved him.

So there she had been, naked on Mulder's lap, her legs
spread wantonly, her whole body vibrating, while a fully
clothed Mulder started to apologize to her. She hadn't even
thought (she hadn't been doing much of that tonight; why
start now?). She had simply reacted.

Now they faced each other, both on their knees, Scully's
right hand going numb, Mulder's cheek turning red. He turned
shocked eyes to her. "Scully?"

"You fucking bastard!" she growled. "You say that to every
woman you have sex with?"

He winced. "No! I'm not talking about this!" He rushed to
explain. "I'm not sorry for this, I'm sorry for--"

"I know what you're sorry for, Mulder," Scully said, her
voice weary. "You're sorry for everything." She shook her
head and bit her lip, holding back the tears that she felt
forming in her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she searched the
room for her scattered clothing. Her T-shirt was right
behind her on the floor next to the couch. She grabbed it
and stood, her eyes darting to the sweatpants that lay next
to her panties and tennis shoes. She would have to pass
Mulder to get to them. "Well," she continued. "I'm sorry,
too." She moved forward with the intent to walk past him,
and he jumped up and out of the way, pulling his jeans back
in place as he did so. "Sorry I came," she snapped. "Sorry I
stayed with the X-Files, even though I had more than one
chance to get out. Sorry I love you so much." She swept up
her clothes, more than aware of the sudden stiffening of the
man next to her.

"Scully?" His voice was a whisper filled with shock. And
hope.

She looked at him. "Your sister, your father, my sister, me.
None of it is your fault, Mulder. Why can't you see that?
Yes, it's our investigations that have caused most of this,
but it was my choice to be a part of these investigations."
She shook her head in frustration, not quite believing she
was standing here trying to talk sense to Mulder while she
was stark naked. "Did you know that when I was returned
after my abduction that I was given a choice of where to go?
They told me I could go back to teaching at Quantico, with
the possibility of working my way into the VCU or I could go
back to the X-Files." She paused and took another breath. "I
didn't even have to think about it."

Mulder stared at her, his face expressionless. He moved
suddenly, walking past her to sit on the couch. There, he
folded his hands between his knees and stared at the
floor...at the very spot they had just made love. Because
that's what they had done. At least, that's what *she* had
done. "Just go, Scully." There was no emotion in his voice.

"Not until you understand what I'm trying to tell you," she
demanded. "I stayed because I wanted to. Just as I came here
tonight. Because it was MY choice. And if you don't respect
my choices, then you aren't the friend -- the partner -- the
man -- I thought you were." She moved toward him, throwing
the clothing in her hands on the floor and kneeling down in
front of him. She leaned back on her heels. "You think
you're dangerous for me? You're not. What we do is
dangerous, but I'd like to think that we've watched each
other's backs well in the last couple of years. Do I trust
you? Yes. Implicitly. Tonight should have been proof of
that."

He closed his eyes tightly at her words and she rose on her
knees, bringing her face close to his. "So, unless you're
apologizing for what just happened, which I'm telling you
now you don't need to do, I'm going to ignore the fact that
you said those words at all."

He opened his eyes and looked at her. "What about this
morning?"

"What about this morning?"

"Scully--" He was getting frustrated now, and he buried his
face in his hands.

"What were you thinking when you were pointing that gun at
Modell?"

He sighed, then answered, lowering his hands. "I was
fighting him. But he hadn't asked me to do anything, yet, so
I wasn't fighting too hard." He looked up at her. "But even
when he had me shoot at him, I didn't fight too hard."

"That's because killing him would have ended the game,
right?"

"He still would have won."

She nodded. "Yes, he would have. Because it was an
unbeatable game. There was no way you could win." She kept
her voice steady and soft. "What were you thinking when you
pointed the gun at yourself?"

He hesitated. "I was thinking that I wasn't ready to die.
That there were things I had left to do."

She nodded again, thrilled with his honesty. "Yet, you
didn't hesitate to pull the trigger. Why?"

He frowned. "He was too strong. I hated what he was doing,
and I was fighting him, but he was too strong."

"You fought harder than when he had you shoot at him?"

"Yes."

Scully took a deep breath. "What were you thinking when you
pointed it at me?"

He shook his head, and Scully watched in fascination as a
lone tear traced its way down his cheek. "He was too strong.
He..."

"What?" she pressed. "Mulder, tell me."

"I felt rage. At him. At me for not being able to stop him."

"Why didn't you pull the trigger, Mulder?"

"I was going to, Scully."

"But you didn't."

"Scu--"

"You managed to hold off long enough to tell me to run,
didn't you? You managed to fight his hold long enough for me
to get to that fire alarm."

"Scu--"

"No! Listen!" She grabbed his hands, which were gripping
each other so tightly his knuckles were turning white. "You
didn't hesitate to shoot at Modell. You didn't even hesitate
to shoot at yourself. But Modell had to tell you over and
over to shoot me. And you didn't."

"But I was going to!" he shouted.

"You didn't do it, Mulder!" she shouted back. "You held on,
in a no-win situation, long enough for me to change the
rules. You won! You beat him at his game, a game he was
never supposed to lose." She pushed herself off the floor to
sit next to him on the couch. "Don't you remember his face
when the alarm went off? I do. I remember turning around and
seeing you turn on him. There was fear there, yes. But more
than that, there was surprise. Shock that he had lost. And
that you had won."

Tears were flowing freely down his face now, and Scully knew
her own cheeks were becoming damp. "Mulder, you won. You
saved my life. Just like I knew you would." She reached for
him and he didn't refuse her. He pulled her into his arms
and buried his face in her hair. "Every little girl dreams
of finding her hero, Mulder, even if she has to rescue him
from time to time, too. I've found my hero in you."

"Scully," he whispered brokenly. "The only hero here is
you."

"Don't argue with me, Mulder," she told him, smiling. "You
should know by now that it will get you nowhere."

He chuckled softly and held her tighter. They sat like that
for a long while, but it wasn't long before Mulder's body
began to take notice of Scully's nakedness. She felt him
tensing just before he spoke. "Scully?"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you realize that we've never even kissed?"

She was silent for a moment, not really knowing how to
respond. Not ten minutes ago, they had just finished having
wild, erotic sex on his floor...yet they *had* never kissed.
Carefully, she backed out of his embrace.

He let her go easily, but from the look in his eye, he
wasn't going to let her out of his apartment as easily. Not
anytime tonight, anyway.

"Guess we better fix that, huh?" she asked him, her eyebrow
quirked.

He nodded slowly before dipping his head toward her. Closing
her eyes, she met him, her nerves jumping even more than
during the incident on the floor. No matter how intimate the
sex, this act of kissing seemed even more so. Especially,
she decided, with this man. Who really knew how to kiss, she
discovered immediately.

She sank into him, entranced by the feel of his lips and
tongue as they gently explored her mouth. Boldly, she
explored his as well, spending an inordinate amount of time
sucking on his lower lip. She let her hands run through the
silky strands of his hair, remembering all the late nights
at work when she had fantasized about touching him this way.
And reveling in the fact he was touching her like in those
fantasies, too, running his hands up and down her bare back,
his thumbs teasing the sides of her breasts. Scully quickly
came to the conclusion that real life was much better than
any fantasy.

Suddenly, she pulled back. "Mulder?"

He opened his eyes, and Scully was almost bowled over by the
pure sensuality that she saw in them. "Hmmmm?"

"I'm feeling a little underdressed here," she whispered,
feeling her face heat. How on earth could she be blushing
after what had happened earlier?

She saw Mulder swallow, close his eyes once more, and take a
deep breath. When he opened them again, he seemed a little
more like the Mulder she knew. But only a little. "I'll make
a deal with you," he said, his voice rough. "I'll strip if
you agree to move this party to the bedroom."

Scully widened her eyes. "Bedroom? You have a bed?"

She thought Mulder may have blushed this time, though she
couldn't be sure in the darkness of the apartment. "Yes, I
do. I just never use it."

"Why?"

He looked her in the eye. "It's too big for just me. I can't
sleep in it. Not alone, anyway."

"And you've never found anyone to share it with?" she asked
sarcastically, knowing that if he wanted, he could have had
his pick of women.

"Not until tonight," he answered.

She sat and watched him for a while. He was wearing his
'puppy-dog' expression. She wanted to laugh out loud, but
decided she better not. He might take it the wrong way.
Instead, she smiled softly, then rose and headed for the
bedroom, slightly afraid of what she would find there.
"Better hurry, Mulder," she said over her shoulder as she
walked away, purposefully letting her hips sway in
invitation. She heard him groan just before he tackled his
clothing.

At the door to the bedroom, she hesitated. With a soft sigh,
she reached for the doorknob. "Where no woman has gone
before," she whispered, then turned the knob and entered. It
wasn't as bad as she expected. Then again, she wasn't sure
what she had been expecting. There was clutter, yes, but not
to the extent where she couldn't see the furnishings. Dirty
laundry lay scattered about the room, but it was more
enduring than frightening. She moved over to the bed and
picked up a shirt. She recognized it as the one he had been
wearing that morning with his suit. The slacks he had been
wearing were also laying across the bed, but the suit jacket
had, fortunately, been hung up inside his open closet. The
bed underneath the clothes appeared untouched, and Scully
knew he had told her the truth when he said he rarely used
it.

She heard him enter the room behind her. "Uhh, sorry for the
mess."

He sounded so contrite that Scully had to smile. She turned
to face him, her smile fading when she saw him. He was
standing in the doorway wearing nothing but his form-fitting
athletic boxers, which did nothing to hide his hard-on. She
had seen him in the same state of undress not so very long
ago, but he had been sick at the time. He had looked nothing
like this.

"I don't mind," she answered him, surprised her voice was
working as well as it was. "Makes you that much more human."

"Human, huh?" He started making his way across the room
toward her. "That's comforting to know." He grinned at her.

When he stopped in front of her, she recognized the devilish
gleam in his eye and felt a moment of apprehension. Not
because she was afraid of him, but because she had no idea
what he would do next. It wasn't an unusual feeling around
this man. Suddenly, he reached past her to pull down the
covers on the bed. As he leaned back, he pressed a kiss into
her shoulder. The simple gesture made her shudder.

With a small smile, she placed her hands on his hips.
"You're still overdressed." Sliding her fingers under the
waistband of his underwear, she began to pull them down,
being careful to avoid his growing erection.

"I didn't want to scare you," Mulder told her softly.

"Hmmm. How thoughtful," she mumbled. "And modest, too."
Scully looked down at him as she continued to push his
boxers out of the way. "Of course, some things should be
bragged about."

Mulder took over in completing her project, then stepped
into her, taking her lips with his before she could look her
fill. As curious as she was, she didn't mind. Nor did she
mind as he began to push her onto the bed. Willingly, she
pulled herself onto the unused, but clean, sheets and tugged
him along with her. She lay back against the pillows and
closed her eyes as he continued to kiss her, making love to
every inch of her face. He stroked her body, and a part of
her was amazed that this was the same man who had just taken
her almost brutally on his living room floor. The other part
recognized him, and responded accordingly.

She lifted her left leg, bringing her knee to his hip, and
pushed her lower body upward. His erection was pressed
tightly into her belly, announcing his ready arousal, but
she needed to let him know that she was more than ready as
well. He groaned in response, but instead of encouraging her
actions, he slid down her body, kissing and licking her as
he went, until her reached her breasts. Scully dug her heel
into the small of his back, not sure if she was complaining
about this change in position, or applauding it. Mulder
didn't seem to care either way.

He licked around her breasts, avoiding her nipples, which
ached painfully for his touch. He paid special attention to
the soft, tender spot right underneath her breasts, licking
at the sweat that had accumulated there during their
discussion. She arched her back, not wanting him to stop
what he was doing, but wanting to bring his attention to her
tight nipples as well. "Mulder!" she gasped, gripping his
hair tightly with both fists. She thrust her hips up again,
pushing her wet center into his belly. "Please!"

"Please what, Scully?" he mumbled against her breast.

"Please, don't stop!" she told him, gasping again as his
mouth finally found one of her nipples. "Yes!" He licked it,
teased it with his lips, then closed his mouth around it and
sucked. He was gentle at first, but the suction increased
quickly, causing her to moan uncontrollably. Releasing her,
he moved to the other breast. But this time, as he sucked,
he began to roll his body away from her. No, not away. He
had wrapped his arm around her back and was bringing her
with him. Soon, Scully found herself sprawled rather
ungracefully on top of him. Quickly, she pulled her legs up
underneath her and sat up, straddling him.

He smiled up at her, stroking her thighs. Up. Down. Up.
Down. She felt his erection lying against the crease between
her thigh and pelvis, pulsing slightly with his heartbeat.
Taking a deep breath, she looked down, took him in her hand,
rose up on her knees, and carefully impaled herself on him.
Oh, yes, but he had something to brag about. She sank down,
groaning as he stretched her, filled her. Made her complete.

Opening her eyes, she looked down at him. He had also closed
his eyes, his face slack with pleasure. She let her eyes
roam over his body, and soon, she leaned forward and let her
hands follow. His skin was warm and damp with sweat. She let
her fingers tangle in the sparse patch of hair that grew
between his nipples, then swept her fingers around those
nipples, gratified when they tightened and puckered like her
own. She traced over his ribcage, then down to his belly, so
much flatter than hers she was almost envious. Her eyes
followed the line of silky hair that lead from his navel to
where they were joined, his own dark hair mingling with her
reddish-blonde curls.

"You are so beautiful," she whispered, running her hands
along his arms, enjoying the coarseness of the dark hairs
that covered them from hands to elbows. She looked up and
met his now open eyes, startled by the intensity she saw.
They weren't glazed over in passion, though she knew he was
feeling it. As much as he was enjoying himself, she knew he
was in full control.

"Ditto," he told her, his voice dark. He raised his hips
slightly, telling her in no uncertain terms that she should
move. She was in charge of this ride, but he was ready to
go.

On sudden impulse, she lifted herself up and off him,
rolling away to lay herself down on her back next to him.

Frowning, he rose up on an elbow and looked at her.
"Scully?"

"Come here, Mulder," she said, hoping her voice and manner
was as seductive as she imagined.

"But, I thought..." Uncertainty took over the intensity in
his eyes for a moment. "Since I..." He sighed. "I wanted you
to be in charge this time."

She smiled at him. "Maybe next time," she whispered. "For
tonight, I kinda like giving up control."

His look was still a bit worried as he moved to roll over
her, then the evil glint was back as, with a wry smile, he
scooted down the bed and placed himself between her legs.
Scully felt her breath catch as he lowered his head and
kissed her more intimately than she had ever been kissed
before. She let her head fall back and her hips raise up as
he placed his open mouth over her center, his tongue delving
deep. "Ahhh! Mulder!" He lifted his head for a second, took
a deep breath, then covered her once again with his moist
breath. Using his tongue, he carefully pulled her swollen
and tender clit inside his mouth and gently began to suck.

Scully screamed.

Immediately, Mulder released her. Panting hard, Scully
looked at him with wide eyes. She hadn't come. He let her go
before she had actually come. Her body was still on the
verge, but it hadn't gone over. "Mulder?!" How could he
leave her like this?

With a wicked grin, he began to crawl up her body, his eyes
glowing with mischief. He slid himself up her, but not
before placing his arms under her knees and dragging her
legs with him. She watched him in shock as he neatly folded
her nearly in half, with her knees almost to her armpits and
her feet dangling uselessly in the air. He braced his arms
on the bed and slowly began to push into her. Scully was
swollen and acutely sensitized by his mouth, and his entry
was almost painful, but she welcomed it, clasping muscles
she regularly exercised, but had no need to use in years,
tightly. She waited for his entry to stop.

But it didn't.

Every inch of him was leisurely being pushed into her. All
the way.

She could barely catch her breath by the time he stopped.
Never had she felt so full, and she suddenly understood the
magic of this odd position he had forced her in, one she had
never experienced before. "Oh, God!" she moaned. "Oh,
Mulder!"

"What do you think?" he asked her, his tone almost
conversational.

Her eyes flew open. He was looking down on her with intent
curiosity, but the tautness of his neck and chest muscles
told her he wasn't as relaxed as he seemed.

"What do I think?" she repeated, trying to match his tone.
The catch in her voice at the end of 'think' ruined the
effect. "I think if you don't start working it I'm going to
leave *you* behind this time."

"Then I'll just have to make sure you come twice, once
without me and once with."

She laughed, not wanting to tell him how impossible that
would be. Never had she come twice in one 'act'. Then he
began moving, and the laughter faded. She began to moan
uncontrollably, astounded at how much he filled her, how
deep his penetration. She swore she could feel him against
her cervix. Pinned as she was, she could do little to thrust
back, but she still managed a wriggle here and there, and
she squeezed him, gratified to hear him moan in response.
Never had it been this good.

"More, Mulder!" she encouraged him. "Harder!"

He obeyed her, his thrusts becoming stronger. His pelvis
came oh-so close to hitting her clit on every thrust in, and
she felt his testicles slap against her, teasing her from
below. Before she knew it, she was flying. High. Fast. And
long, as his continued thrusts made it very hard for her to
come down. Not that she minded. The sweet torment could go
on forever, for all she cared.

Soon, she was able to open her eyes and watch him. She was
determined to see him follow her over. But he was taking his
time. His earlier ejaculation allowed him to take things
slower this time around. From the looks of things, he
wouldn't be done anytime soon. Scully felt her heart skip in
excitement as she met his intense gaze. He was staring down
at her, oblivious to everything but her.

More than two years ago, when their partnership had still
been young, she had once told him how much she admired his
passion, a passion that was so powerful it was almost
blinding. She had often wondered what it would be like to be
the focus of that passion.

Now she knew.

It was exhilarating. It was terrifying. And it was arousing.

Scully couldn't control her surprise when she felt her body
react again. "Oh, God, Mulder!" she moaned. "I can't
believe..."

His thrusts became even harder. Faster. She felt pain
underneath the pleasure, and she had a fleeting thought that
she wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow. But the ecstasy he
was creating in her chased all those other feelings and
thoughts away. He was hammering into her now, sweat dripping
off his face and chest and onto her already sweat-soaked
body. When he came, he threw his head back and closed his
eyes, his whole body tighter than a bowstring. He roared out
something she couldn't understand. It was the most beautiful
sight she had ever seen, and it caused her to follow him
over, just as he had predicted.

She screamed again as well, not caring who heard her or what
they would think. Her body convulsing, she held tight to her
lover and began to sob.

*****

Fox Mulder's Apartment
7:13 A.M.

When Mulder woke, he was more than a little disoriented. He
felt...strange. His body was unusually relaxed, yet when he
moved, muscles he didn't even know he had complained. And he
was lying on his stomach in his bed. He couldn't even
remember the last time he had slept in his bed. He opened
his eyes slowly, noticing the time on the clock first, then
the faint light that entered the room from the window behind
him. He took a deep breath...and felt his whole body tense
as he recognized the scent that filled his nostrils.

Scully.

The events of the night before crowded in on him, and with
sudden panic he lifted himself up on his elbows and turned
his head toward the other side of the bed. For a long
moment, he simply stared.

She was there, lying on her back, her face turned toward
him, her mouth open in sleep. The sunlight that was trying
desperately to get past the blinds was shining on her,
highlighting her breasts, which lay bared to the his
inspection. The sheets and comforter were pulled up to a
point just above her hips, but he knew she was completely
naked beneath them. She was so beautiful. He ached to touch
her, but at the same time he hated to disturb such an
ethereal sight.

She moved suddenly, the filtered sunlight touching her
closed eyelids rousing her from sleep. Lazily, she opened
her eyes. They met his, and the haze of sleep dissipated and
was replaced by a glow he was convinced emanated from her
very soul. She smiled.

"Hi." Her voice caught. She cleared her throat and licked
her dry lips.

"Hi," he responded, knowing his voice wasn't any better.
Realizing his arms were aching, he pushed himself up and
over so he could sit up. "How do you feel?"

She smiled again, closing her eyes and humming softly.
"Wonderful. You?"

"Truthfully?"

Her eyes opened again and her smile faded. Her brow furrowed
as she looked up at him. "Yes. Truthfully." Bringing the
sheets to her chest, she sat up as well. She looked as if
she was bracing herself for something horrible.

He took a deep breath. "I'm in shock."

Scully obviously didn't know how to respond to that, so
instead she just looked down at her hand, which was playing
with a loose thread on the comforter.

"You're not going to ask why?" he continued with a smirk.

"I'm not really sure I want to know," she told him softly,
not looking up.

Mulder suddenly realized she was embarrassed. And
self-conscious. His answer to her query had not been what
she was hoping for. "I'm shocked because I was sure I was
going to wake up this morning and discover everything about
last night, from dinner on, was a dream."

She met his eyes again, and he saw her confidence return.
"It wasn't a dream."

"I know that now," he whispered. "And I have never been so
grateful for anything in my life."

She smiled softly. "You needed sex that bad, huh?"

He frowned at her. "It's not the sex I'm grateful for,
Scully, even if it was the best I've ever had." He leaned
into her, bringing his face close to hers. "It's *you* I'm
grateful for. You. My friend. My partner. My lover." He took
a deep breath. "I love you, Scully."

He watched as the corners of her mouth turned upward, and
her eyes misted over. "I love you, too, Mulder. I think I
always have." She touched his face gently, running her
fingers over the stubble on his cheek. "And I know I always
will."

"Ditto."

She laughed, and he smiled in return. They both knew that
life had indeed changed, just as Mulder had said last night.
But not the way he had thought then. It had changed for the
better, now. Romance wouldn't be easy for them, not while
they still remained partners in the FBI, but they were both
more than willing to take the risks that life was preparing
to throw at them, knowing they could face any obstacle as
long as they were able to watch each others backs.

"This is going to be an adventure, isn't it?" Mulder asked
her.

"You mean it hasn't been up to now?" Scully responded with a
familiar lift of her eyebrow.

"Well, it'll be even more so now."

Scully nodded in acceptance. "I've always loved an
adventure." She sighed. "But, at the moment, I would love a
shower even more."

"Mind if I join you?" Mulder asked, his body already
reacting to the thought of a naked, wet Scully.

"I don't mind at all," she told him with a smile.

"Well then," Mulder said as he slid out of bed, holding his
hand out to Scully in invitation. "Let's get this show on
the road."

THE END

Thank you for reading! Now go watch 'Pusher'!