Raspberry and Lace - Part 2

With the help of Doggett, Mulder and Scully set a trap for Wallace

Rated R for sexual situations and violence associated with a serial killer

>>>August 2000

Bellefleur, Oregon

Mulder was studying the pictures of Deputy Hoese's scars and wondering how any man could go on living after surviving such torture when a knock sounded on his motel room door.

"Who is it?" he asked with a frown. It was well past ten, and he was positive Scully was already asleep.

"It's me."

His frown deepened as he set the pictures aside and pushed himself off the bed. His mind flashed back to another night, in a different motel but in the same town, almost eight years ago. She had come to his door in a near panic, disrobing in front of him, wearing only her bra and panties, terrified she carried the same mark they had found on several dead twenty-something's. He had been shocked by her trust in him. And humbled.

He opened the door to find a woman completely different from the one he had known then. And yet, she hadn't changed at all. "What's wrong, Scully?" Her face was pale and she looked like she was shivering. "You look sick."

"I don't know what's wrong," she said. The weakness in her voice scared him. He was constantly watching her health; ever since her cancer, he had felt a need to make sure she

was 100% at all times.

He stepped aside. "Come in." As she passed him, his mind searched for action. Call a doctor? Get her a glass of water? What did he do?

With jerky movements, she walked over and sat on the bed, her body huddled against an adversary he couldn't recognize. "I...uhm," she started. "I was starting to get ready for bed and I started to feel really dizzy. Vertigo or something." Mulder looked down at her, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. "And I just..." she stopped with an invisible shrug. "I started to get chills."

Mulder reached past her and began pulling down the covers to his bed. Chills. She was cold. He had to get her warm. "You want me to call a doctor?" He knew what her answer would be before he finished uttering the question.

"No. I just...I just want to get warm." She pulled herself up the bed as she said this, welcoming his invitation to get under the covers. He helped her slide her shoes off, then

tucked the covers around her as she settled, shivering, facing away from him.

The shivers frightened him, but not as much as her behavior. Scully rarely ever told him she was feeling ill. Never had she come to him asking for comfort. Without another thought, he slid onto the bed behind her, on top of the covers, and spooned his body against her. His body heat would help her warm up faster than anything.

"Thank you." She turned her face up toward him for a split second before looking away, but it was long enough for him to see the slight embarrassment in her eyes. Yes, she did hate coming to him for help, but he knew she wouldn't have if not for a very good reason. She was scared. And tired of being alone.

"It's not worth it, Scully," he whispered into her hair.

"What?" she whispered back.

"I want you to go home." He meant what he said, though it hurt to say it.

"Mulder," she argued, a touch of her normal strength in her voice. "I'm going to be fine."

Mulder's heart started beating wildly as he continued, knowing what he was about to say could hurt one of them. Maybe both. "No. No, I've been thinking about it. Looking at you today, holding that baby." The image was still fresh in his mind, that of a mother and the child she would never have. He could have given her that miracle, but it wasn't to be. And he was still angry at Fate for that. "Knowing everything that's been taken from you," he continued. "A chance for motherhood and your health and that baby... I think that... I don't know. Maybe they're right." He breathed her scent in, reveling in it.

"Who's right?"

"The FBI. Maybe what they say is true, but for all the wrong reasons. It's the personal costs that are too high." He thought of his sister, his father, his mother. Himself. The

Mulder curse. All of us dead; or almost dead. But Scully wasn't. "There's so much more you need to do with your life. So much more than this." He reached up with his left hand and brushed her hair away from her cheek. More than aliens. And conspiracies. And him. "There has to be an end, Scully." His was coming soon, though she didn't know it yet. He often wondered if she would hate him after he was gone. With his heart ready to burst, he kissed her softly on the cheek.

He could tell she was trying not to cry, but he didn't try to comfort her with words. There was nothing else left to say. He simply held her, noting when her shivers stopped and when her breathing slowed and deepened. A stray thought had him hoping that this was how his end would be, with his own breathing gradually slowing to a stop and her arms around him. But, more than likely, he would be alone in his apartment. Alone. As always.

She would come looking for him, and she would find him dead. He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't do that to her! But, how could her tell her? She would set out trying to cure him, just as he had when she had been struck by cancer. And she would die trying. If there was one thing he was determined to do before he died, it was to insure Scully would live.

He had tried pushing her away months ago, after he had not only discovered he was dying, but, due to a cruel twist of fate, he had read the mind of the woman who shared his soul. He had learned in those few minutes in her company that she loved him as much or more than he loved her. And he had hated that discovery. She deserved so much more. But he hadn't been able to get her out of his system, and she had gradually wormed her way back into his every thought. Until, in one of the most selfish moments in his selfish life, he had allowed his dreams to become reality, knowing that the nightmare that lay ahead would only be that much harder for her to deal with because of it.

Maybe he was wrong. She had left him that night. And pretended nothing had ever happened. That nothing had changed.

But it had.

Mulder opened his eyes suddenly, realizing it was day. His brain was becoming more and more unstable, his thoughts never still, even in sleep. He lifted his head and looked down at the woman in his arms. He wished he could read her mind now.

Suddenly, she sighed and turned underneath his arm, lying on her back. Her blue eyes opened, hazy with sleep, and she smiled. Mulder didn't even hesitate. He lowered his head and claimed her mouth with his.

She didn't tense. In fact, her body seemed to melt even further into the bed. Her lips parted and her tongue swept out to meet his. The kiss was slow, deep and wet. And it had

Mulder harder than a rock in seconds. He moved over so his body, still separated from hers by both the blankets and their clothing, lay directly over her. Her arms came up to wrap around his back.

He pulled away, gasping for air, but attacked her again before she had her own breath back. He moved in on her neck and lower jaw this time, sweeping his tongue along her slightly salty skin.

"Muldeeeeeeerrrrr..." she purred. God! He had never heard Scully sound like that before. He began to suck, determined to mark her. Determined to show the world she was his.

Her hands suddenly began to push at his shoulders, and his mind began to clear from the haze of desire that shrouded it. 'Fuck, Mulder! You can't give her a hickey!' He pulled back and lifted his head to look at her.

She was still pushing at him, and her face had gone pale. "Mulder! Let me up!"

He shoved himself away from her and she threw the covers off herself, jumping out of the opposite side of the bed and running for the bathroom. He jumped up and followed her. He

found her kneeling over the toilet, vomiting what little food she had managed to eat yesterday. Carefully, he kneeled behind her and brought her hair away from her sweaty face, rubbing his hand along the back of her neck. Trying to soothe the violent upheavals her body was forcing upon her.

Finally, they subsided, and she sat upright slowly. He rose and filled a plastic cup with water from the sink. She took it gratefully, not meeting his eyes.

"You know, I've gotten a lot of different reactions from women when I kissed them, but nothing like that."

She looked up, startled by his words. Then she smiled. "Well, I'm glad to be the unique one of the bunch," she said, her voice steady.

"Oh, you are," Mulder smiled back. "Always have been."<<<

She had still refused to go to the doctor, and had seemed fine after a shower and change of clothes. She had even managed to choke down some food. They had left Oregon when they could turn up no proof of a spaceship, and she had still appeared normal.

Two days later, he would go back to Oregon. And lose six months of his life.

With what he knew now, he realized that her 'sickness' had been caused by her pregnancy. A pregnancy neither of them had even known about at the time. How ironic, him telling her it wasn't worth it, when there, in that same bed, a tiny life glowed inside her womb. A child. His child. He had to believe that.

The sound of a car door slamming jerked him out of his contemplation, and he rose and headed out of the room and down the stairs. When he reached the bottom, Special Agent

Monica Reyes walked through the front door. She smiled when she saw him. "Agent Mulder!"

"Agent Reyes," he nodded, his greeting more reserved than her own.

Still smiling, she reached up and touched her hair. "So, why exactly did Agent Scully want me to lighten my hair?"

"Come with me, Agent, and I'll tell you all about it."

*****

>>>February 2001

It was working.

Or so the doctors told her. She had yet to see any physical sign that Mulder was getting better. But the treatments of anti-virals, combined with the cold-therapy, seemed to be

ridding the man laying before her of the horrible invader his body had been succumbing to. He still looked like hell, though.

She lowered herself next to his bed, reaching for his cold hand, her eyes searching his face. Her mind flashed back to a time when he had done the same for her several years earlier. He had never known that she had been aware of his presence that night; she had never told him. She had seen and felt so many things while unconscious in the hospital after her return, but she remembered his final visit with more clarity than the rest. He had held her hand for what seemed like only a few minutes, but in actuality had been hours. And she remembered what he had told her: "I don't know if my being here will make a difference. But I'm here."

Silently, she told him the same thing.

His hand twitched. Startled, she looked at his face. His lips moved, and she could see his eyeballs move under his lids. She pressed forward into the bed. "Mulder?" she whispered.

He heard her. His eyes fluttered open and he turned his face toward her. She saw pain, confusion and exhaustion in his eyes, which were amazingly clear. "Hi," she said with a smile.

She saw recognition flare in the hazel depths, which was why she felt confusion fill her at his first words.

"Who are you?"

Scully felt her breathing stop and her heart contract. He didn't remember? Her? The X-Files? Her smile faded as she tried to think of something to say that wouldn't frighten him. Then she noticed how the corners of his mouth tilted up.

"Oh, my God!" she gasped, her tears falling freely though she was now smiling. She ducked her head. "Don't do that to me!" she exclaimed. If he had been well enough, she would have smacked him. At the same time, she was more than happy he had made a joke immediately upon awakening; it meant his mind was intact.

She looked up and was nearly floored by the look in his eyes. He had stopped smiling and was watching her with something she could only describe as pure and absolute love. The kind everyone dreams of having, and only a few ever have the joy of knowing. She bit her bottom lip. "Do you know...?" she started, the frog in her throat catching her. "Do you have any idea what you've been through?"

His eyes became clouded with concern and confusion. "Only what I see in your face."

He furrowed his brow, his eyes suddenly questioning. But the question never materialized. Scully reached out and brushed his hair away from his face, reveling in the warmth that was emanating from his abused skin. No questions now. He would know everything soon enough. She laid her head down on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Steady. Strong. Alive.

"Anybody miss me?"

His question made her laugh, which was answer enough. She had missed him. And she was going to make sure he knew it. Her eye caught sight of a figure in the door, and she raised her head slightly to see him better. Doggett.

He looked embarrassed. Guilty. And... jealous? Without a word, he backed out of the room. Scully lowered her head again. They had found Mulder. Doggett's job was done.

Or was it?<<<

Scully sat up suddenly on the couch in front of the TV, where she had been carelessly flipping through the channels with the remote before falling into a doze. She continued with her surfing, stopping for a moment at the Country Music channel, but the video that had attracted her attention was ending and she moved on. The baby gave a kick, as if to tell her he/she was bored, and Scully brought her hand down and rubbed the area with a slight grimace. "I know," she said softly. "I'm tired of just sitting around, too. But it's best for both of us, right now."

"Who you talkin' to?"

Scully jumped at Doggett's question and turned her head to glare at him. "Would you quit that! I'm not nearly as alert as I used to be." She turned back to the TV. "Sneaking up on

expectant mothers when they are so close to their due date isn't very intelligent, you know."

"You are a full month away from your due date, Agent Scully," Doggett responded with a wry grin. "I don't think I have anything to worry about."

"Don't be so sure," she responded without looking at him.

He immediately became concerned. "Scully? You okay? No cramps or anything, I hope."

She looked at him again as he seated himself on the couch next to her and saw the controlled panic in his eyes. She smiled. "Don't worry, Doggett. I'm not going into labor

anytime soon."

He breathed a sigh of relief, then turned to look at the TV. Scully had stopped, accidentally, on the Playboy Channel. Her eyebrows immediately shot up. "Why, Agent Doggett! I'm shocked." She looked at him in time to see his ears redden. Giggling, she turned the TV off and turned her massive body toward him. "Don't worry. I don't think less of you. How can I when Mulder's tastes are similar."

This time, Doggett's eyebrows rose. "Ahh. You knew about his videos, then?" Doggett had been in charge of the search of Mulder's apartment after his disappearance seven months ago, so he knew a lot about the other agent. Things Mulder probably wished he didn't.

"I was the one that gave them to Frohike after the funeral." Mention of the funeral always brought back memories of the nightmare directly after it, and she felt her head begin to pound. "Not that I didn't know about them long before then." She smiled slightly. "It's just one of the many habits that make him who he is."

"And who he is, is someone you love." It wasn't a question.

Scully looked up at the man sitting next to her. "You think I'm crazy, don't you? Loving someone as paranoid and single-minded as Mulder."

"So, you admit it?"

She sighed. "Yeah. I guess I do." Her eyes narrowed and she frowned at him. "There's something about you, Doggett, that makes me talk more than I should. I can't decide whether to hate you for it, or thank you."

Doggett didn't smile. "You should tell him," he said.

"What makes you think he doesn't already know?"

"Oh, maybe because he's so paranoid and single-minded." He grinned. "Look, I don't presume to know what Mulder thinks or feels, but I know his history with you. The professional part, anyway. And I know that you two are close." He looked serious once again. "But even I can feel the tension between you two. Tension that wouldn't be there if you were both certain of your standing in each other’s lives." He shrugged. "You've known him for years. You've been friends, you've saved each other's asses, you've been more than willing to die for each other. But you're not allowing yourselves to open up to each other." He reached over and placed his hand gently on her belly. "Don't you think you should before this little guy makes an appearance?"

The ache in Scully's head increased sharply. "How..." She cleared her throat. "How do you know all that?"

"I'm psychic."

She just glared at him.

"All right." He leaned back again. "The truth is you said a lot of things back when you went ballistic four months ago. Things I had no right hearing." He took a deep breath. "But I did."

"Was that before or after I started throwing things?"

"During, actually."

They grinned at each other. Then Scully turned away. "He knows I love him, John." She was aware of how he tensed; she had never called him by his first name before. "He knows,

and it scares him."

"I think it scares you, too."

She nodded. "He doesn't think he's good enough for me..."

"He's right."

"...but, I'm not worthy of his love."

"Bullshit."

Scully turned to him again. "Don't you see? He's so passionate. So powerful. He needs someone whose soul is as strong as his is. As beautiful." She shook her head. "I've always been afraid that I'll lose myself in him. That I'll drown. Willingly." She paused, thinking to herself that maybe she already had lost herself in him; hadn't her breakdown after his 'death' been proof?

Doggett was shaking his head now. "No way. You are more than a match for him. Your spirit is just as strong, just as beautiful. I've only seen you together a few times, but I've read how the two of you solved your cases. By being equals. By listening to each other’s thoughts and ideas. Even when you disagreed with each other, you were always headed in the same direction. You were just on different paths. And you always started and ended your journeys together." The corners of his mouth twitched. "I have a feeling that's what it's like in your personal relationship, too."

Scully bit her lower lip, holding her sudden tears at bay. "When did you become such a great psychotherapist?"

Doggett laughed. "Hey, I tell it as I see it."

Movement behind them caused them both to turn their heads. A sleepy looking Charlie walked into the room. "Hey. Any word?"

Scully shook her head. "No. Both Mulder and Reyes are as bored as we are."

"Bored?!" Doggett sat up straight. "You guys are bored? In my house? We can't have that!"

He stood and headed for his office, returning not a minute later carrying a board game. "How much you want to bet I can beat both of you at Trivial Pursuit."

Charlie and Scully groaned, but then settled down to distract themselves for as long as possible.

Scully's mind, however, refused to concentrate on the game. It kept wandering back to Doggett's words.

Suddenly, she was very anxious to talk to Mulder.

*****

"Check."

Mulder groaned as he watched Reyes move her man, knocking one of his off the board. He had often considered himself a fair chess player, but Reyes had beaten him nine times out

of ten so far, and looked to be going for win number ten. The worst part was, it had been his idea to play. With a sigh, he rested his chin in the palm of his hand and stared at the board. Where to? Where to?

The ringing of his cell phone brought a bright smile to his face. "Saved by the bell," he announced to the other agent as he answered it. "Scully, you have the best timing in the

world, you know that?"

Silence greeted him.

"Hello?" Still, nothing.

He watched as Monica's eyebrows rose in question, and shrugged in answer. Slowly, he hung up. "Wrong number?"

"Yeah, right." Monica stood and wandered to the front window of the luxurious sitting room. The day had warmed up nicely, but in order to keep up the appearances of a couple on a romantic interlude, they had stayed inside. Mulder knew Monica was starting to go stir-crazy. "Something's about to happen, Mulder," she said softly.

Mulder didn't question how she knew this. Instead, he asked, "Good or bad?"

The young woman shook her head slightly. "I don't know. But I usually get feelings about bad things, not good." She turned to him with a smile. "Which really sucks, you know?"

Mulder smiled back at her, but quickly turned serious. "Maybe we should give the others a call and give them a heads up."

"And make them worry for nothing?" She shook her head again. "I don't see how they have anything to fear. There's no way Wallace knows where Charlie is, even if he does know she's not here."

Mulder sighed. This was true. While he and Monica were keeping in contact with the local law, Scully and Charlie were at Doggett's house without any official knowledge. Not even Skinner knew where they were, though he had probably guessed the situation when both Doggett and Scully had called in sick the last two days, and Mulder and Reyes had requested official control of the Wallace case.

However, Mulder also knew that Doggett had given the Sheriff here in Bartow a call yesterday; just making sure Mulder had indeed involved them on the case. Scully had admitted it to him just this morning. Anyone with a brain could put one and one together. But Mulder was confident Charlie was safe.

"He's here," Mulder mumbled. When Reyes didn't respond, he looked up to find her grinning at him. "What?"

"Nothing. I just like your style, Agent Mulder."

He gave her a half-laugh and stood. "You know, I got my reputation barely out of the Academy. How did you get so far without me ever hearing of you?"

She shrugged. "You were in the spotlight a lot more than me. I also worked legitimate cases, not X-Files. That helped." She looked down. "I was told by a fellow agent once that I would make a great 'Mrs. Spooky'." She glanced at him. "But that title has been held by someone else for the last several years."

"Not that she wanted it," Mulder groused, reminded yet again that Scully's life and career could have been so much better had she never met him.

"Oh, I think she's secretly proud of it," Monica said. "And she's more than earned it this last year, I think."

Mulder had gone through several of the case files that had been opened during his absence, amazed at how many had been solved using giant leaps of logic... from Scully. Doggett had once commented that Scully had tried to be Mulder on more than one occasion. Mulder couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of pride that she had indeed managed to think like him once in a while. But more than that, he was relieved that she seemed to finally believe in the unbelievable. 

"She still argues with me," he said softly, not even meaning to speak aloud.

"Of course, she does," Monica said. "You can change a leopard's attitude...but you can't change her spots."

"Wouldn't want to," Mulder concurred. "She wouldn't be as beautiful without them."

"Exactly."

"I can see why she likes you, Agent Reyes."

"She likes me?"

Mulder nodded, hiding a grin.

"She told you that?"

He nodded again, and reached for the glass of juice sitting on the table.

"Hmmm..." Monica said. "Too bad she likes you better."

Mulder almost choked on the juice he had been about to swallow, spitting it back into the glass instead. He looked at Monica, his eyes wide.

She was laughing. "I'm kidding! Geez! Just because I'm a single woman not currently dating, everyone seems to think I'm something I'm not. That's my reputation, Agent Mulder."

"So, you're not...?"

"A lesbian?" she finished for him. "No. Not unless your average lesbian has to keep cool her attraction to her fellow male agents."

"Like who?"

"I'm not telling you!"

"Oh, come on! I'm very good at keeping secrets! Do I know him?"

"Mulder!" Monica was getting exasperated now. "Forget I said anything!"

"No way! You can't expect me to just forget about what you said. What kind of agent would I be if I couldn't--"

A knock on the front door stopped their playful banter, and Monica immediately headed for the foyer to answer it. "Saved by the knock!"

When Mulder reached the foyer, Monica had already admitted Connie. The woman looked worried.

"Connie?" Mulder began. "What is it?"

"I think I saw Wallace."

"Where?" Monica asked.

"He and Bobby Wagner were talking to each other behind Harvey's gas station," she said. "At least, I think it was him."

"Who's Bobby Wagner?" Monica continued.

"The town loud mouth. That's what he is." She grimaced. "I don't know for sure, but I think Bobby knows that Charlie is out of town, that you guys are here to trap Wallace." She shook her head wildly. "God knows how! But that man can ferret out the biggest secrets from anybody. Even someone from the Sheriff's Department."

"Shit." Mulder's voice was sharp. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. It wasn't long before the connecting line was ringing.

"Scully."

"Wallace may be headed your way."

"What?!"

"I can't explain how right now, just be aware that he may have figured out where Charlie is."

He heard her sigh heavily. "I'll let them know. What are you going to do?"

"Get some straight answers here," he said. "I'm not convinced he's left yet."

"All right," she responded. He heard the unspoken 'be careful' in her voice. "Call me when you know for sure."

"Deal. And Scully?"

"Yes?"

He paused, unable to say what he really wanted to. "Stay close to Doggett."

She was silent for a moment as well, and he hoped she had heard his own unspoken words. 'Be careful.' 'Don't take any chances.' 'I love you.'

"Talk to you soon, Mulder."

"Right." With that, he hung up.

*****

Mulder lifted his arm up and pressed the button on his watch that illuminated the dial. 12:33 AM. He dropped his arms down in frustration. He should have taken first watch since he couldn't get to sleep. He was exhausted, but his mind wouldn't relax, and he needed to get up a little after two to take over the watch from Monica. To make matters worse, tomorrow was Friday, and Charlie had guests coming early in the morning. He and Monica needed to be ready. Connie was coming in to handle the check-in, and a neighbor would be coming in to cook dinner later, but Mulder felt he should make himself visible. And Monica was going to continue to impersonate Charlie... for the weekend, at least. If Wallace didn't make his move by Monday, Mulder didn't know what they would do.

But first, he needed to get some sleep. His body needed rest. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes, and his mind drifted to its favorite subject. Scully. If she was here, he would be able to sleep. He had always slept easier when she was with him. Except when....

His mind darted without warning to its second favorite subject, and happily began to combine it with the other.

Scully.

And sex.

He had several fantasies that combined his two favorite subjects. But even his fantasies couldn't compete with the memory of the real thing...

>>>July 2000

Mulder's Apartment

"I just find it hard to believe."

"What part?"

"The part where I go away for two days and your whole life changes." He knew he was being a bit dramatic, but he had sensed the change in his partner from the moment they had found each other on the grounds of the hospital earlier this evening. She seemed more relaxed, more apt to smile. And when they had arrived at his place, she had talked. She

opened up to him in a way she never had before. He was fascinated.

"Mmmm. I didn't say my whole life changed," she argued lazily.

"You speaking to God. God speaking back." He had no trouble believing it; if anyone had a right to an in-depth discussion with God, it was Scully.

Again, she shook her head. "Mmmm... And I didn't say that God spoke back. I said that I had some kind of vision."

Scully? Admitting to having a vision? "Well, for you, that's like saying you're having David Crosby's baby." He expected her to laugh. Or at least elbow him in the ribs, which she often did when they were alone and he said something completely out of place. But she stayed silent. For a second, Mulder worried that he had offended her; simply the mention of babies was something he usually avoided, especially after their failure with the IVF several months ago.

He looked at her. She didn't look upset; she did look deep in thought. "What is it?" How many times had he wanted to ask Scully what she was thinking? Tons. How many times had

he actually asked? Very few.

How many times did she answer when he did ask? With something other than 'I'm fine'?

"I once considered spending my whole life with this man." He wasn't surprised by her words. Hell, she had just told him she'd had an affair with a married man; she would never have even considered that had she not loved that man very much. "What I would have missed."

He wanted to smile. Was she admitting she was grateful that she hadn't stayed with Daniel? Was she admitting she was glad she was here, with him? "I don't think you can know," he said in reply. If she had stayed with Daniel, she might have led just as interesting a life. She might have even still befriended him. Or so he hoped. "I mean, how many different lives would we be leading if we made different choices." Maybe, they never would have met. Or worse, met, but only for a brief moment. "We...we don't know."

"What if there was only one choice, and all the other ones were wrong? And there were signs along the way to pay attention to."

Mulder felt his mind swirl at her words. He realized she had vocalized what he had been thinking; that the right choices, the ones that Fate picked for them, would mean they would always end up here. On his couch. In his apartment. "Mmmm..." he rumbled. "And the choices would lead to this very moment. One wrong turn and we wouldn't be sitting here

together." That was a scary thought. "Well, that says a lot. It says a lot, a lot, a lot." He turned to her with a smile on his face. "It's probably more than we should be getting into at this late hour."

She wasn't listening.

She had fallen asleep...

...Scully hadn't meant to fall asleep on her partner. But the past couple of days had taken their toll on her, and the tea, combined with the relaxing atmosphere of Mulder's apartment and the soothing sound of his voice, had lulled her into a deep slumber.

She was startled awake nearly four hours later.

She woke lying on Mulder's couch, the blanket that he often used tucked about her body. It was dark in the room, and quiet, but she immediately sensed she wasn't alone. Lifting

her head, she stared at the shadow of a man sitting silently across from her.

"Mulder?"

As if in response to her query, a bright flash of lightning illuminated the room. And the man watching her sleep. She felt her heart speed up and her breathing quicken as the sound of thunder rumbled in reply. Though it had been brief, the flash of light had given her a clear view of her observer, and the look in his eyes had been terrifying. And

exhilarating.

She pushed herself off the couch, throwing the blanket up and around her shoulders. The air in the room was almost cold. Spring was here, but the nights were still chilly, especially when storms moved in, and Mulder had the window open. She stood and walked to stand next to his desk and look out the window, trying to act casual as she peered out into the oncoming storm. Another flash of lightning caused her to jump. But as nerve-wracking as the powerful charges of electricity were, they were not nearly as frightening as the storm she had seen in Mulder's eyes.

Why had he been watching her sleep? And why had he looked at her that way? Maybe she had imagined it. Maybe he was really asleep. Maybe he wasn't even in the room!

She was about to turn and see if her eyes had deceived her when she felt him come up behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, and stood looking past her out the window, not making a sound. It wasn't a sexual gesture by any means. Then why did she suddenly feel a burst of sensual energy? And was is coming from him? Or her? Or both of them?

"Looks like it might be a bad one," she said, her voice shaky.

He didn't respond. Not verbally, anyway. Slowly, as if he was afraid of scaring her, he brought his arms around her body, pulling her back against him. She felt surrounded by

him. His scent. His strength. His power. Willingly, she sank back into him, letting her eyes fall closed.

The storm grew in intensity, but Scully didn't even notice it anymore. She was floating. Soaring on a peaceful cloud of security and familiarity. Happy she had made the right choice. Her head fell back against his shoulder, and she felt his breath on her neck as he lowered his head to look at her.

"Scully?"

She shivered at the sound of his whisper. "Hmmmm?"

In answer, he placed an open-mouthed kiss on the side of her neck. Scully's eyes flew open and her body tensed. She felt the heat of his tongue as it swept along the tendon, and

then the gentle pressure of his teeth as he bit down lightly. She groaned uncontrollably and her eyes drifted shut again as his tongue continued its exploration upward to her ear.

By the time he reached her earlobe, she was undeniably aroused. The dampness she felt between her legs was becoming downright wet, and her knees were literally becoming weak.

In response, Mulder's arms tightening around her, and one hand strayed up from her waist to cup her breast. The overtly sexual touch of his hand sent a sharp jolt of surprise through her, and she pushed away from him, dropping the blanket and turning to face him, her back to the window, her butt up against his desk.

"Mulder!" she gasped. There was no anger in her voice. Only surprise, with a slight undertone of arousal.

He had let her go immediately when she had pushed away from him, and he now stood there with his arms loose at his sides. With the help of another flash of lightning, she was

able to read his expression. There was no regret on his face, and his eyes still held the intense desire she had seen upon waking on the couch. They also held a question. A question only Scully could answer.

She swallowed heavily, trying to slow her breathing. She should go. She should grab her shoes and leave. The storm outside broke and rain began to pour down. Scratch that plan, Scully thought. She was not about to run away, especially into a rain storm.

"Scully?"

With that one word, her name, he seemed to be asking her more than one question. If she left, she could pretend this interlude had never happened. And she knew he would do the

same; but he didn't want her to leave.

And she didn't want to leave, either.

But she should. She didn't want to change to balance of their relationship. She didn't want to lose any of the respect or trust she shared with him. 'Don't be ridiculous, Scully. He would never think less of you if...' If what? If she let him fuck her? She shivered and closed her eyes, but his next words brought them open again.

"It's your choice."

Despite the storm raging behind her, despite the intensity of the man in front of her, Scully felt a sudden wave of peace settle over her. With a smile, she looked over at her

best friend. "And I've made it," she whispered.

A look of relief passed over his face, though the intensity didn't diminish, and he moved forward again, using his body to pin her against the desk. "Good choice," he whispered back, then lowered his head...

.....Mulder hadn't planned this seduction.

He had settled Scully on his couch hours ago, planning on leaving her there and going into his bedroom to read. But his mind kept drifting to their conversation, and the freedom both seemed to feel now that their demons seemed to be vanquished. The coming storm outside had grabbed his attention and he had turned off his light in order to see the lightning better. A wildness seemed to fill him, and he had fallen into one of his favorite Scully fantasies. Unzipping his jeans, he had begun to touch himself, only to remember that the object of his daydream was in the next room. Never had he allowed himself to pleasure himself with her so close.

With a groan, he had adjusted himself and left the bedroom, both relieved and depressed to see her still asleep. Carefully, he lowered himself into the chair across from her and watched her sleep. God, she was beautiful. She had always been pretty, and despite her uptight clothing, he had known she was sexy from the start, even before her visit to him in her underwear in Oregon. But the longer he knew her, the more lovely she became. Everything about her. Her hair, which he knew for a fact was natural; he was no angel, he

had looked down during their shower together at Ft. Marlene (and so had she). Her profile, which reminded him of the ancient portraits of Roman Goddesses. Her body was like those of the mythical women, as well. Voluptuous. Not skinny, but slim, and curvy in all the right places. Why had he ever thought tall, leggy women were sexy?

Just watching her had sent arousal pulsing through him. He had clenched his fists in an effort not to touch himself again, but he couldn't stop his mind from its almost pornographic thoughts.

Then, she woke up.

Now, he had her pinned up against his desk and was kissing her. Finally kissing her. And she was kissing him back. Her arms had wrapped themselves around his neck and she was pressing her body tightly against his. Recklessly, he reached down and grabbed her buttocks, squeezing them firmly before lifting her onto the desk. Something, a picture he

thought, fell off onto the floor, but neither of them stopped to see what it was. Without taking his lips from hers, he pulled back a bit so he could slide her skirt up her nylon clad legs, curving his hands under her rear and grabbing the tops of her panty hose. With a sharp tug, he pulled them down, unwittingly taking her panties with them. She let go of him for a moment to brace herself on the desk, lifting her hips and allowing him to pull the underwear all the way off. Once the offending material had cleared her feet, he threw it over his shoulder and stepped into her.

She parted her legs for him, and he found that his arousal was perfectly aligned with her now bared center. Even through the denim of his jeans, he could feel her heat and moisture. Instinctively, he jerked his hips into her. She gasped into his mouth, which had yet to leave hers, and brought her knees up to grip his hips. Her hands were sliding up and

down his bare back, inching closer and closer to where his jeans began every time they swept down. Her fingers felt as electrically charged as the lightning that still flashed behind her.

With a groan, he left her lips and began to kiss her throat, sliding his hands under her sweater to the silky skin underneath. Swiftly, he pulled the garment upward, taking his mouth from her only long enough to pull it over her head. It followed the same route her nylons and panties had flown. He shoved her back slightly, her elbow hitting the

computer as he did so. Her sharp intake of breath caused him to pull back, and some of the blood that had abandoned his brain for regions farther south traveled back upward. What

the hell was he doing?!

"Too fast," he whispered.

"No!" Her voice was strong. "Please, don't stop!" She added an exclamation point to her words by thrusting her hips up into him. "Please!"

With a growl, he brought his hand down to his fly and undid it, shoving the jeans and boxers down just enough to allow his penis to spring free. With the same hand, he reached

between her legs to her center, amazed at how wet and aroused she was.

Holding her tightly around the waist with one arm, he used his free hand to help position himself at her opening, then pushed into her with one stroke of his hips. She shouted out

an incoherent word, and he stilled. She was so damn tight, he knew it had to be uncomfortable.

"Scully?" he said through clenched teeth, his face buried in her neck.

He felt her chest heave a couple of times as she breathed deep, then she tightened her arms around his shoulders. "I'm fine."

He pulled back his head to look at her, startled and a little dismayed by her words. When he met her eyes, she smiled. Her smile went straight to his heart. "I love you, Scully," he whispered.

Her smile faded and her eyes grew round. Then she squeezed his hips with her thighs. "Prove it."

It had been a long time indeed since Mulder had done this, and he had always figured his first time 'back in the saddle' would be over almost before it began. But with her challenge floating in the air between them, he was determined to last long enough to see her go over the edge first.

It wasn't easy, especially with her moans and whimpers urging him on, but he managed. He even tested his coordination by freeing her breasts from her bra and bending down to catch a tight, rosy nipple in his mouth. At his urgent suckling, her hips increased their tempo, and he eagerly matched it. Another object, most likely his coffee cup full of dried-up pens, fell off the dangerously rocking desk. The thought crossed his mind that he wouldn't care if the computer fell, as long as the desk itself stood up to the abuse.

Harder, faster, deeper. She had thrown her head back in ecstasy and was moaning his name uncontrollably. He abandoned her breasts and straightened, watching her in fascination as he thrust harder. He felt her internal muscles begin to spasm and he continued the almost violent pumping.

Her body stiffened and her moans turned into startled shrieks. "Oh, God! Mulder! Oh, my God!" Though he was more than ready to let loose himself, he held off, reveling in the feel of tremor after tremor coursing through her.

Finally, he could not hold off any longer. With a roar, he poured himself into her, knowing as he did so, that part of him would be in her forever...

*****

...'Oh, my God. What have I done?'

That was Scully's first coherent thought after the explosion she had barely survived atop Mulder's desk. Her body was still trembling with aftershock after aftershock from the

most intense orgasm she had ever experienced in her life. Mulder's face was buried in her neck, and his penis was just beginning to slide languidly from her overly sensitized flesh. 'What had they done?'

With weak, exhausted arms, she pushed at his shoulders. "Mulder?" Her voice was husky, and she felt herself blush all over as she recalled the screams that had emanated from her only minutes earlier. "Mulder?" She pushed harder.

He grunted softly and pulled back. She felt him slide all the way out, and a chill hit her sweaty body as his ceased its contact with her. "Scully?" he asked, his voice much stronger than hers and holding more than a touch of concern. "Are you alright?"

Without looking in his eyes, she nodded.

He was silent for a moment. Then, with hardness taking over the concern, asked, "Are you sure?"

She looked up, surprised by the almost angry tone of his voice. "Mulder, I..." She couldn't continue. What could she say? Should she tell him she had fantasized about this moment for years and never believed it would ever happen? Should she tell him the real thing had been far better than any of her fantasies? Should she tell him how much she wished it had never happened?

She pushed away from him and slid off the desk. "I need to go."

He backed away from her, tugging his jeans back into place and zipping up the fly. She could feel his eyes on her as she set out to collect her scattered clothing. Her bra was

draped over the computer monitor. Her panties were tangled with her torn nylons. Her shirt, the soft, green short-sleeved sweater she had bought only a week ago, was lying on the couch where she had been sleeping not thirty minutes ago. She gathered it all in her arms, holding them against her still tingling breasts, feeling like an idiot. Her jacket. Where was her jacket? There. On the arm of the couch. Her shoes? By the door, a habit she had picked up from Mulder himself.

Grabbing the jacket, she headed for the door, trying to create as much distance between her and Mulder as possible. She could still smell him...all over her. And she could still feel him. The residue of their loving soaked the inside of her thighs, and she could still imagine him, hard and powerful, thrusting into her over and over. She stopped by the door and dropped everything. Tears began to run silently down her cheeks.

He seemed to know she was crying, even through her silence. He came up behind her and stood there, not touching her. "What do you want me to say, Scully?" She thought she heard tears in his voice. "Do you want me to pretend what happened here was a dream? I don't know if I can do that!"

"I don't..." She cleared her throat. "I don't want it to change."

"What? What don't you want to change?" He gripped her by the shoulders and turned her around. "Tell me!"

"Us!"

Mulder's face revealed the internal torment brought about by her words. "Why does this have to change 'us'?" he demanded. "You're still my best friend. My partner. My respect and trust for you will never change."

"Are you sure about that?" she whispered, disbelief filling her voice.

He let go of her and backed away. "You would willing have given birth to my child, yet you think it's wrong to share my bed, is that it?" She winced at the anger and hurt in his eyes. "Then I guess I'm glad the IVF didn't work, Scully. Because if we had shared a child, I would have expected us to share a bed, as well."

"Don't you bring that up!" she argued, holding back her tears with growing anger.

"Why not?! Did you even give a thought to why I agreed, Scully? Because, out of the goodness of my heart, I figured I could play stud horse for my best friend? And not involve my heart?" He laughed harshly and ran his hand through his hair. "I love you, Scully. Yes, I wanted you to have that baby you've always wanted. But I had hoped that you would

want me as part of the deal as well."

"Don't do this, Mulder," she whispered, her anger gone. "Don't say these things. Please. I can't handle it."

"You can't handle it, huh? Well, then. We better just not talk anymore tonight." He stepped into her suddenly, bringing his arms around her and sweeping her right off the floor. With a soft screech, she grabbed hold of him, feeling a wave of dizziness hit her as he swung around and headed for his bedroom. She half expected him to throw her onto the bed, but instead, he set her down gently. He unzipped her skirt, the only piece of clothing she still wore, and slipped it off.

She pushed herself onto her elbows and watched as he rid himself of his jeans. Confusion turned to wonder as she admired his body. He was so perfect. Anger turned to desire as she noticed he was already regenerating. Fear turned to love as she recognized the look in his eye. He was waiting. Waiting for her to welcome him into her body. Into her heart.

Silently, she opened her arms...

...Mulder felt relief pour through him as he joined her on the bed. She was confused and scared, and he knew he was taking advantage of her, but he wanted the final step to be her choice. The love he saw in her eyes sent a shock wave right to his chest. For a moment, he knew he had finally broken through her walls. He wasn't about to let the moment slip by.

He gently eased himself onto the bed, determined to take it slow this time. Before, out in the living room, they had had sex. Wild, uncontrollable, mind-blowing sex. Now, here, in his bed, he wanted to make love to her. He touched her with his hands. With his mouth. Breathing her in, tasting her. At first, she just lay there beneath him, letting him do whatever he wished. But it didn't take long for her to become an active participant, using her own hands and mouth to investigate his body. More than once, Mulder felt a sense of unreality about the whole event, as if he was indeed just having a very real, very erotic dream. For seven years he had wanted this woman; maybe he had finally lost it. But, if this was insanity, he would be content to stay insane forever...

...Scully couldn't believe she was actually touching him. Tasting him. How many times had she wondered what he felt like? How many times had she dreamed of running her fingers

through the sparse hair on his beautiful chest? Gradually, she became bolder, and began touching him below the waist. Scully wasn't incredibly experienced in the area of sex, but

being a doctor, she knew things about the male body many men didn't know. Bringing her hand up between his legs to cup him, she squeezed very softly, smiling as she heard his

answering groan and felt his erection increase by a significant amount.

She continued her exploration, tangling her fingers in his dark hair before she grasped him in a firm grip. His hips jerked into her hand and she responded by pumping her hand up and down his length. His breathing harsh, he grabbed her wrist. "Stop! Not yet!"

She just smiled and continued. He moaned and fell onto his back. "Scully! Please! I want to be in you."

"You will be," she told him as she leaned over him, taking one of his nipples into her mouth and sucking lightly. She rubbed her own breasts against his ribcage and along his flat stomach.

"Scully," he whimpered. She felt him expand, ready to explode, and she released him quickly. Taking her index finger and thumb, she firmly squeezed him toward the base of

his straining penis. Almost instantly, his erection eased. He took a deep breath. "How...?"

She smiled again, and moved to straddle him. "I'm  surprised with all your experience you didn't know  about that little trick."

"How did you know?" he questioned, his eyes narrowed in jealousy.

Griping his still erect penis in her hand, she maneuvered herself over it. "I'm a doctor," she whispered, then lowered herself onto him. He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feel of her, then opened them to look at her, the question still there. She leaned forward and kissed him. "If it makes you feel any better, I've never actually used that technique before."

"Good," he mumbled back to her as she began to ride him. He placed his hands on her hips and helped her ease herself up and down. She looked down, amazed by how large his hands looked against her body. Her eyes were drawn to where they were joined, and again she was impressed by the size of other body parts. It had hurt when she had first taken him

inside her; it had not only been a long time since anyone other than a doctor had entered her private recesses, but he had been impossibly large compared to her petite frame. Yet,

she took him easily now, her body more than welcoming to his. She quickened her pace.

His hips began to thrust up to meet hers, and his hands had traveled from her hips up to her breasts. She leaned into him, moaning uncontrollably at the incredible sensations he

created. He was getting larger inside her, and it felt wonderful. "Mulder?"

"Yeah?" He was breathing hard now.

"I love you."

Their eyes met, and Scully knew he could see the truth in hers.

"I'm sorry, Scully," he responded, a soft smile on his face. "But nothing is ever going to be the same after this."

Even while her heart swelled with love for him, it ached at his words. He was right. And she hated it.

Biting her lower lip, she leaned forward, bracing herself on his shoulders, and began to thrust down on him hard. He responded with powerful upward thrusts of his own. She felt

him release himself inside her just as her own body clenched around him. Together. 'Wow,' she thought. 'I didn't think it was possible.' She felt a smile spread across her face as she delighted in the feel of her orgasm, then she let herself fall onto the heaving chest of the man beneath her...<<<

They had both fallen asleep with smiles on their faces, but when Scully woke just before dawn, she had panicked. She had left the bed and retrieved her clothes before she finally

calmed. And though she dearly wanted to climb back into the bed with Mulder, she had instead cleaned herself up and dressed in his bathroom, then left without waking him.

He had called a few hours later. She hadn't answered. He called again. Still, she didn't answer. Three times he tried. Three times she ignored him, knowing she was destroying the best thing that had ever happened to either of them, but too scared to change things.

Mulder had understood her silence and had not brought up that night since. Even after discovering her pregnancy. She knew she was being childish, hoping he would bring it up

himself when she had been the one to insist it be forgotten. But Mulder tended to make her behave childishly. And Doggett's advice to her earlier in the day had made her want to talk to Mulder very much. She wanted confirmation that he believed this child had been conceived that night, too. And, selfishly, she wanted confirmation that he still loved her.

Though they had ignored the events of that night, their relationship had changed. She knew that, had she not gotten sick, something important would have happened in that motel room on Oregon. If Mulder hadn't been abducted, she was sure they would have eventually opened up to each other, especially after discovering her pregnancy. They had never had that chance.

But they did now.

Scully rose from her bed in Doggett's guest room and waddled to the window. She wished this Wallace guy would appear so she and Mulder could have that talk. Now. Before she lost the guts to do so. With a self-depreciating sigh and a shake of her head, she began to turn back toward the bed. Suddenly, movement from outside caught her attention. She

leaned closer to the window to see better.

Below her, ducking in and out between the bushes at the side of the yard, was a man.

*****

Night had fallen, and Doggett's house was dark. But this didn't stop Charlie from pacing back and forth across the floor of her bedroom. John's bedroom, she corrected herself.

She didn't know when she had started to think of him as John, and not Doggett, in her head, but she knew it meant something. She wasn't sure what, but she hoped she figured

it out before she had to leave.

And yet, she prayed she would be leaving soon.

Leaving here meant that Fox and the other agent had caught Wallace. It meant she could go home. She sighed heavily, unsure if that would happen anytime soon. Though she didn't

know the details, she had been told by Dana that there was a chance Wallace knew where she was. For two nights, she had slept peacefully in this house. Now, on the third, she couldn't even bring herself to go to bed.

With another sigh, she left the room and moved soundlessly down the stairs. Maybe she could find something to snack on in the kitchen, and maybe that would help distract her mind enough for her to sleep. But in order to get to the kitchen, she had to pass through the living room, where John was sleeping. As quietly as she could, she began walking through the room, not even daring to look at the couch where the agent lay; she couldn't afford to get distracted.

She had almost reached the kitchen door when his voice called out from behind her. "Where are you going?"

She stopped, feeling guilt sweep through her, though she knew she had no reason to feel that way. She turned. "I can't sleep."

His face was just a pale blur in the dark of the room, but she didn't have to see him to know he was trying not to smile. "So, you're going to eat instead?"

She put her hands on her hips in a defensive posture. "I amuse you, don't I?"

He swung his legs over the side of the couch and placed his feet on the floor. "Well, yeah," he said, as if the answer should be obvious to everyone.

With a soft groan of frustration, she turned and walked into the kitchen, flipping on the light as she did so. Without pause, she marched over to the refrigerator and opened it

up. She heard him enter the kitchen behind her but didn't acknowledge his presence.

"Hey, I didn't mean that in a derogatory way, Charlie." His voice sounded sincere. She glanced at him. He had a little half smirk on his face. He was also bare chested. She looked

away again, not knowing if it was the smirk or the chest that caused her to do so.

"I'm so glad you find me entertaining, Agent Doggett," she said through clenched teeth.

"Charlie?"

She didn't respond. She kept staring into the fridge at nothing in particular.

"You want to know why I find you so amusing?"

Taking a deep breath, she closed the fridge, turned back to face him, and folded her arms. "I'm all ears."

"That's my line," he said dryly.

Charlie felt laughter bubble up and barely stopped it by biting her lower lip.

"You 'entertain' me because you are so contradictory. I mean, look at you. You have the body and face of a supermodel, but you act like a nun. You talk tough, but in reality, you're more than willing to let others boss you around."

She opened her mouth to argue, but he stopped her by holding up his hand. "And the worst part is when you act like you're attracted to me, then back away when I respond to that. Now, how am I supposed to act around you? I'm trying to figure that out, and that's why I'm so 'entertained'."

Charlie was struck speechless. For a moment. "What an ego. You think I'm attracted to you?"

He took a step toward her. "Aren't you?"

"No!" But she said the word a little too quickly. A little too forcefully.

He stepped forward again. "I don't believe you," he said softly. "I think you're as attracted to me as I am to you."

"I am not...!" She stopped suddenly. "What did you just say?"

"I said I'm attracted to you." He smiled. "That shouldn't be a surprise. I'm sure I'm not the first."

No. He wasn't. In fact, in high school and college, it had been one of her strong suits: attracting men like a flower attracted bees. But Wallace had changed that. With her hair

cut short, no makeup, and dull, unflattering clothes, she hadn't caused many men to sit up and take notice of her in the last several years. Which was how she liked it.

"Look," she whispered. "Fox is going to catch Wallace soon. And when he does, I'm going back to West Virginia and my life. I'll probably never even see you again." The thought made her heart ache, but she wouldn't let him know that. "So, you better give up the flirting and just pretend I'm..."

"Pretend you're what?" Doggett asked patiently.

"Pretend I'm like a sister. Like Fox does."

He snorted. "I'm sure 'Fox' didn't always look at you like a sister."

Charlie knew he was probably right. She also remembered how, as a teenager, she had tried mightily to catch the eye of her brother's friend. But he had always been honorable, and never made any kind of moves on her. And after Wallace, he had indeed become like another brother, though more distant than her real one. "That was then. This is now."

"And what's so different about now?"

"Wallace!" she said sharply. She felt her whole body begin to tremble. "Wallace and what he did to me."

John sighed and moved to sit down at the table. "It's been almost ten years, Charlie. When are you gonna live again?"

This time, she snorted. "Sounds like you've been talking to Fox."

John laughed. "The day Mulder and I talk about something that important is the day I admit to dressing like a woman."

He laughed even harder at Charlie's wide eyes. "It was at a college Halloween party, Taylor!"

She smiled, but it didn't last long. John also sobered quickly. "Anyone can see you're still suffering, Charlie. Even if they don't know what he did to you."

"If it had been done to you," said quietly, "you would have a hard time living again, too."

He sighed. "Maybe. But it seems to me a little of that girl you once were would still be there, fighting to get out."

She shook her head sadly. "The girl I once was wasn't really that much different than who I am now. I was just a better actor back then." She clasped her hands together and looked

at the floor. "I was a virgin."

John was silent for a moment. "What?" he whispered.

"I was a virgin when Wallace took me." She clenched her teeth together, holding her tears at bay. "Not many people know that. The doctor and nurse that checked me out. Bill Connor, the Agent in Charge of the case." She shrugged. "I don't even think Fox knows."

"I'm sorry," Doggett said.

She looked up sharply. "It doesn't really matter, you know? I mean, I'm sure it was just as horrifying, just as painful for the women before me. Women who had boyfriends. Who'd had sex before." She shook her head. "But, I..." She couldn't continue.

"There's been nobody since?" John's words were soft, full of compassion. But not pity.

She shook her head. "Not that I haven't thought about it. Or wanted it." She gave him a false smile. "I'm pretty sure no one wants a damaged, inexperienced lover."

"I might."

His words sent a shock wave through Charlie. "What?!"

"I can see past the damage, Charlie. To the woman underneath. She's there. She just needs someone to coax her out."

"You?"

"If you'll have me."

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs prevented her from responding. Not that she knew what she would say. What exactly was he offering? Or was he just trying to tell her it was possible for someone to want her, despite her past? She wasn't going to get an answer tonight, because Dana was there, her eyes wide and a frown on her face.

"Agent Doggett?"

John stood at the anxiousness in her voice. "What is it?"

"There's someone outside. I saw him from my upstairs window."

He nodded toward Charlie, and Scully, weapon in hand, walked across the room in her bathrobe and slippers to stand next to the younger woman. Doggett flipped off the light and disappeared back into the living room where Charlie knew his gun was. They both held their breath, listening as he exited the house from the front door.

A minute of tense silence filled the little room. Then, a shout was heard. What sounded like a body hitting the outside of the house. And more shouting. Scully cautiously moved toward the front of the house, flipping on lights as she went. Charlie stuck to her back like a burr.

"Agent Scully?!" John yelled. "I got the bastard! Call the cops!"

Scully immediately picked up the phone to make the requested call. Charlie, however, was driven by her morbid curiosity to the open front door. Slowly, she stepped though. John had a man pressed up against the wall and was cuffing his hands behind his back. The captive turned his head to look at her, his eyes burning. Charlie gasped.

John looked at her sharply. "Charlie?"

"It's not him!" she whispered. "It's not Wallace!"

*****

Mulder sat in the dim light of the Raspberry and Lace's kitchen playing solitaire at the small table in the center of the huge room. He hadn't turned on all the lights, just the one above the stove; he wanted his eyes to adjust to the dark quickly if the need arose. He hadn't slept, since he had been too busy thinking of Scully, so he played the card game in order to keep himself awake and alert. It was distracting, but not so much he wasn't aware of his surroundings.

Yet, when his cell phone rang, he jumped. With a frustrated sigh directed at himself, he picked it up off the table where he had laid it after taking over for Monica, and answered it. "Mulder."

"Mulder, it's me."

He immediately felt his heart speed up, as it almost always did upon hearing her voice. "Hey. Do you know what time it is?"

"Yes, Mulder. Believe me, I am very aware of the time." Her voice was full of sarcasm, and Mulder smiled when he heard it. "Let's just say it's a little hard to sleep around here when there are people sneaking around outside."

"Did you catch him?" Mulder demanded. God, he hoped so. He wanted to go home...to Scully.

"No." Mulder's heart sank at her words. "But we did catch Bobby Wagner."

"Bobby Wagner? The guy that works at the gas station here in Bartow?"

"Yep."

"What the hell was he doing at Doggett's house?"

"He wouldn't say," Scully responded.

Mulder felt his brow furrow. "Did he say anything?"

"Nope."

His lips twitched. "You sound pissed, Scully."

"Do I really? Imagine that." She sighed heavily. "I'm just very ready for this to end. Doggett's a wonderful host, but I want to go home."

"Hey, this was your idea," Mulder argued.

"Don't remind me. Hey, Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"This Connie is sure she saw Wagner talking with Wallace?"

"She's pretty sure."

"Well, if that's the case, Wagner could be here because of Wallace. Feeling the place out maybe."

Mulder nodded. "Right. Which means I want you and Doggett to stay on the alert. Wallace could be watching you guys even now."

"Or he could be watching you," Scully countered.

The words had barely echoed in Mulder's ear when a startled shriek from somewhere in the old building caused Mulder to turn toward the kitchen door sharply. "Damnit!" he growled. "I hope you're wrong. Gotta go!"

He barely registered Scully's angry voice calling out his name as he disconnected. Setting the phone down, he picked up his weapon and headed for the door. He and Reyes were the

only ones in the house, and the shout he had heard sounded like his current partner. But what had caused it? The locks to this old house were good, and the windows were strong,

hard to break without great force. Wallace couldn't have gotten in without notice.

Unless he had a key.

Connie, Mulder thought. She had keys. If someone had gotten to her...

Slowly, silently, he made his way up the stairs, once more thanking Fate or whoever that there were no guests in the building yet. Reaching the top of the ornate staircase, he moved toward the room he knew Monica used. The door was closed, and he could see no signs that anyone had been by recently. His eyes, having accustomed themselves to the dark quickly, as planned, scanned the floor, the walls, the other doors. He reached Monica's room.

If he crashed in there, only to discover the woman on the other side of the door had had a bad dream or something of the sort, he would feel like an absolute fool. Wouldn't be the first time. But if she was in danger...

Just as he was reaching for the doorknob, he heard a thud from inside the room. Loud enough to be a person's body. He turned the knob slowly and gently pushed open the door.

A loud whisper from the other side made him pause. "You bitch. You may not be her, but you'll do for now."

Mulder took a deep breath, then kicked the door in, weapon ready. "Freeze! FBI!"

Kip Wallace turned from where he stood hunched over Reyes' limp body. He carried a gun in his hand, and with speed that startled Mulder, he threw up his arm and took a shot. Mulder, who was still in the hallway, dodged to the side as the bullet hit the doorframe. He heard a gasp and knew that Wallace had grabbed Monica.

"Drop your gun and get in here," Wallace growled. "Unless you want your lovely partner here to take a bullet in her pretty little head."

Mulder raised his arms and stepped into the room, making sure Wallace saw him drop the weapon and push it off to the side with his foot. He glanced at Monica. She seemed a bit woozy, but she met his gaze. Though she was still clothed, it was apparent she had been grabbed straight from sleep. He had failed her. He had been the one on watch; she should

have been able to sleep safe.

"Very good." Mulder turned his attention back to Wallace as the man started speaking again. "It's nice to know some FBI can follow orders." He shoved Monica on the ground again. As the woman fell, Mulder noticed her hands were tied behind her back. He cringed. With her groggy and restrained, she would not be any help to him...or herself.

"Now, before I take the little look-alike here with me, I want to know where Charlene is."

"You really expect me to tell you?" Mulder asked.

"Well, since I haven't heard back from my friend Bobby yet, I can't be sure she's in Alexandria. But I'm guessing that is exactly where she is." He nodded with confidence. "With that other FBI agent, right? Funny," he started giggling. "I never thought Charlene would fall for an FBI agent." He glanced at Monica, who had managed to get to her knees.

"Seems I was right."

His smile disappeared. "Now, what should I do about you?" A bright grin split his face in two. "I know!" He moved toward Mulder. "Turn around and get on your knees, hands behind

your back."

Mulder glared at him for a moment, then did as told. "You know, I've been in this position before," he said, his tone conversational. "I didn't die then, either."

"Really? Does that mean you think you're going to get out of this?" Though Mulder couldn't see the man's face, he could feel the mouth of the gun on the back of his skull. "I don't think so."

Mulder felt and saw so many things in that one moment, he thought his brain might overload. Just as the many other times he had been near death, he thought of Scully. But, now her image wasn't alone. That of her unborn child appeared just as clear. He squeezed his eyes shut, wondering if maybe he was destined to never know his child.

BANG!

He jumped at the sound of the shot, but knew immediately it hadn't come from the revolver Wallace had been holding. Just as before when he had escaped an execution style death, he felt his heart jump to his throat, then dive back down to his churning stomach.

A grunt of pain followed the sound of the gunshot, and Mulder took advantage of the moment. Dropping his arms, he twisted sideways, bringing his hands down to the floor, and swung his legs back, knocking the legs of the serial killer out from under him. Wallace didn't need much encouragement

to fall, Mulder realized. He was already gripping his right shoulder in pain, his gun hanging in his useless right hand. The gun dropped to the floor as he fell. Mulder quickly threw the man on his stomach, straddled him, and pulled his arms behind his back. Wallace screamed in pain, but Mulder ignored him, pulling a set of handcuffs from his back pocket and flicking them on Wallace's wrists. He took the fallen gun and shoved it in the waistband of his jeans.

With the groaning prisoner struggling painfully under him, he looked at Monica. She was laying on the floor, her eyes clear and bright with fear and excitement. In the hands tied

behind her back, she held a small gun. Her right pant leg had been pulled up, revealing an empty ankle holster.

"Good shootin', Tex!" Mulder shouted, his own adrenaline high.

"Whad'ya mean, 'good shootin'?" she demanded. "I missed! I was aiming for the fucker's head!"

Giving Wallace a hard shove on his back, Mulder started laughing.

*****

They all met the next morning at the Sheriff's Office in Bartow. Wallace, who had been treated at the local clinic hours earlier, was being transported to Charleston mid-morning, where he would face charges for the death of three women several years ago and assault on a Federal Agent. Having been on the FBI's Most Wanted list for nearly ten years, Wallace's capture was bound to make headlines, and Mulder and Reyes were not looking forward to the media attention.

Scully had insisted on taking the three-hour drive from Alexandria to Bartow with Doggett and Charlie, even though long-distance traveling was tough for her these days; she had to take restroom breaks far too often. But she was curious to know the 'how' and the 'why' behind Wallace's attempt to get at Charlie so many years after her initial escape from him.

Wallace had indeed been in prison for most of the last several years...but not in the U.S. Which was why the FBI had not been able to find him. After running from the authorities in '91, Wallace had fled to Mexico, where he was arrested after only three months in residence for knifing a Federale who had requested Wallace stop loitering on a certain affluent street corner. Knowing he was a wanted man in the U.S., Wallace had stuck with his alias, Roy Breker. Not really caring if the U.S. wanted him or not, Mexico sent his photo and name out to the American authorities, and when they received no reply, sentenced him to a Mexican prison for fifteen years. He was let out early for good behavior. He had never stopped thinking about returning to West Virginia and continuing where he left off.

Bobby Wagner, his old High School buddy, was more than willing to help him out; ever since Charlie had moved to Bartow, she had ignored his advances. The rebuffs had Wagner seeing red. It hadn't been hard to weasel out the name of the Agent in Alexandria or the cell number of the Agent supposedly romancing Charlie at the R&L. Deputy Cliff Stewart had already been fired for his gullibility and stupidity.

Convinced Charlie wouldn't leave her home, Wallace sent Bobby to Doggett's to check and make sure Charlie wasn't there. Unfortunately, Wallace hadn't prescribed to the 'if you want it done right, do it yourself' theory. Now, Wagner would also been spending time in prison.

Wallace was expected to get a minimum of life.

After Wallace was taken away in the care of several Federal Marshals, Charlie, who had been subdued all morning, came to life. She never stopped chattering in the car as they drove out to her bed and breakfast; she was very anxious to meet her weekend guests.  Connie, who's keys had indeed been stolen by Wallace the evening before while she was out at the Boot Hill Saloon, was taking care of the new arrivals. The room that Monica had slept in, the one with Wallace's blood on the floor and the bullet gouge in the door frame,

would be closed off until the police were done with it and it could be cleaned and repaired. But the guests didn't need to know this.

Scully was impressed by the Raspberry and Lace. It was just the kind of peaceful place she would enjoy staying the weekend in. As she pulled herself out of the car, she looked

over at the man stepping out of the driver's side of the other vehicle. It was the perfect peaceful place to have a very serious discussion with the man you loved, too, she thought. Mulder turned his head to look at her, and she blushed, quickly looking toward the front door of the building where a woman, presumably Connie, was waiting.

Charlie swept up the stairs and she and Connie hugged exuberantly. An older woman, later introduced as Mrs. McClarren, also stepped outside into the warm, spring air to give Charlie a hug.

She and Doggett mounted the steps onto the porch and accepted the thanks offered by the other women for taking care of Charlie. Then, they were directed into the house. Scully moved forward slowly, trying not to think about how she again needed to visit the restroom, when Mulder came up behind her, escorting her into the building with a familiar

hand on her back. Other than the grins they had shared when she had arrived at the Sheriff's office earlier, they had not had any contact at all. Now, his presence was both comforting and nerve-wracking; she had done a lot of thinking since they had last been in each other’s presence.

But the talk she anticipated was not destined to happen at the Raspberry and Lace. After eating a wonderful meal prepared by Mrs. McClarren, the four agents decided to head

home. Reyes still had her car at the R&L, and both Mulder and Doggett had their own vehicles, so Scully had a choice with whom she would ride back to DC with. As if there was a choice.

Now was the perfect time for that talk.

*****

Agent Reyes had left with a smile and a soft 'good luck' directed at John just after Fox escorted Dana out of the house. Charlie wasn't ready to try and guess what the woman had meant by those words. But she did get an inkling when she realized John didn't look like he was in a hurry to leave.

Her skin began to tingle and her heart started to race; she and John were alone. "Well..." she said, her voice unusually husky.

"Yeah, well." He didn't move. He just stood there and watched her, his hands deep in the front pockets of his dress pants. He looked different in a suit, she thought. Different, but just as good.

"You better get going," she told him softly. "I'm sure Fox and Dana will need your help to catch more bad guys."

John's lips curved into a faint smile. "I'm sure." He sighed and took a step toward her. "Charlie, I..."

She waited, and when he didn't continue, she tilted her head and prompted, "You...?"

"I'd really like to see you again."

She gently bit her lower lip, but she wasn't sure if she was doing it to keep herself from smiling at the rushed, almost nervous way he said it, or to keep from crying because she knew from the look in his eyes, he meant every word. She nodded. "I'd like that, too."

He gave a sharp nod. "Good. I mean, great." He stopped and looked slightly confused for a moment. "I..." Again, he stopped, apparently at a loss for words. Where had the brave, bold FBI man gone, Charlie wondered?

"You know where to find me, John," she said softly.

His eyes met hers, and again she was filled with wonder at their beauty. "Yeah." He blinked and looked around the foyer where they were standing. "This looks like a wonderful place to run away to for the weekend."

She allowed herself a smile this time. "Yes. It is."

He looked back at her, that familiar smirk once again adorning his face. He stepped forward and leaned into her. He was only a few inches taller than her, but she still felt tiny next to his powerful, wiry frame. Yet, despite that feeling of smallness, she felt no fear. And when his lips touched hers, Wallace and the horrors she had survived were the farthest thing from her mind.

He stepped back, and Charlie realized she had closed her eyes sometime during the gentle but very non-platonic kiss. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. "One step at a time," he whispered.

"I hope you don't get bored, going slow," she whispered back.

His smile widened. "Yeah, right." He turned and headed for the open door, speaking over his shoulder. "Let's just say I'm going to be looking forward to my weekends for the first

time in a long time, Ms. Taylor." Before he exited, he turned and winked at her. Then he was gone.

*****

Mulder had been driving for nearly an hour before Scully made any kind of comment whatsoever. "You better pull over here."

An old gas station sat off to the right. He glanced at the gas gauge, though he knew they didn't need to fill up. Stealing a glance at the woman next to him, he guessed it was the exact opposite. With an amused sigh, he turned into the station and parked next to the old building. "Are you sure?" he asked. "We might find a better place to stop further down." Newer. Cleaner.

"I'm sure," she responded through clenched teeth as she slid out of the car.

"Need any help?" Mulder called after her.

She turned a deadly glare his way. That was her only answer.

He didn't have to wait long. She was back within minutes, her face set in a grimace of disgust. "That bad, huh?"

She shook her head. "Let's go."

"Need anything to drink before we go?"

Again, the glare.

"All right, all right," he mumbled as he started the engine and pulled back onto the highway.

They were silent again for another ten minutes or so, but it wasn't a comfortable silence. Scully seemed unusually tense, as if she was about to say something, but couldn't. Mulder

wished she would say something. Starting a conversation might actually help him tell her what he wanted to tell her. Might actually help him ask those questions he needed to ask

but was too afraid to.

"Mulder?"

Finally. "Yeah?"

"You know that class I've been taking?"

"That birthing class thing?"

"Lamaze. Yes."

He nodded.

"Well, Mom made a suggestion the other day that I thought was a pretty good idea."

"What?"

"That you be my partner."

He kept his eyes on the road, not looking at her. He didn't want her to see how excited he was about the idea. "You sure you want me to be the one by your side when you give birth,

Scully? I mean, I might pass out or something." He glanced at her.

She had a soft smile on her face. "Yes, I'm sure I want you to be there." She paused, then said softly. "You have more right than anyone to be at this child's birth."

His heart swelled upon hearing those words. Though she hadn't said it outright, she had basically just told him she considered this child his. "I'll do it, Scully. Just tell me when."

She looked over at him and nodded. "Thank you." She looked at his hands on the steering wheel for a moment, avoiding his gaze. "Mulder, I..."

"Yeah, Scully?"

She sighed and looked away out the passenger window. "Never mind."

*****

Early April, 2001

Scully's Apartment

It had been two days since the birth of her son, and Scully was still exhausted.

After Mulder had found her in Georgia and literally carried her and the baby out to the waiting helicopter, life had been nothing but a blur. She had demanded that the baby never leave her sight unless Mulder, Doggett or Reyes was with him, and because those three trusted individuals were kept occupied with answering questions flying at them from every direction, this meant Scully got little sleep.

Even when she had finally been allowed to leave the hospital in Georgia and go home, she hadn't been able to relax. The baby, picking up his mother's distress, cried often, making

Scully feel worse. But finally, she had reached home, and, with her mother's help, settled in. Now, mother and son were both as rested as possible, which still wasn't much in Scully's case, and accepting visitors.

Skinner had arrived with Doggett in tow a couple of hours ago. Doggett had cooed and made a fuss over the baby while Skinner had been a little less enthusiastic; he seemed a tad uncomfortable around the tiny person, and Scully hoped he found the guts to hold the child when he became the baby's Godfather next month. Reyes had stopped by shortly afterward with a huge bouquet of flowers and a card, both gifts from several people at the J. Edgar Hoover building; she had been the designated envoy. She also made a fuss over the new arrival, talking baby talk and making funny faces. The phone rang often, but Scully let the answering machine take care of the calls, knowing they were most likely congratulations and could be answered later. Every time the phone rang, however, she listened carefully to the voice. Waiting for one voice in particular. She hadn't spoken to Mulder since this morning, when he had left her in the care of her mother and her doctor.

And she missed him already.

Maggie Scully said her own good-byes a little after 9. "Are you sure you want me to go?" she asked. "I can stay in the guest room."

Scully was very tempted to say yes. The idea of taking care of this tiny new being all by herself scared her to death. But she had yet to be completely alone with the child, and she knew that if she let her mother hover now, she would never get used to mothering on her own. "I'll be fine, Mom." She stood from her position on the couch, wincing slightly at the soreness that was a reminder of her recent experience. "He's settled in nice. I'll feed him, and then we'll both get some sleep." She didn't mention her hope that she and the baby wouldn't be alone for long tonight.

Her mother agreed, making Scully promise to call if she needed anything, and headed for the door. Before she could leave, there was a knock, and Maggie looked out the peephole. "It's those friends of Fox's. Those boys that write that newspaper."

Scully smiled and continued on her way to her bedroom. Her breasts were getting very uncomfortable, but she supposed she could wait until the Gunmen left. "Let them in, Mom,"

she told the other woman. "I'm sure they won't stay long."

She was walking the floor in her bedroom, knowing that if she sat she would have a hard time getting back up, when an astounded looking Byers, an apprehensive looking Langly, and

an excited looking Frohike entered carrying gifts. "Well, if it isn't the Three Wiseguys," she said with a grin.

All three men blushed and smiled. "Sorry we stopped by so late," Byers said. "But we couldn't wait until tomorrow to see the little guy."

"That's okay," Scully said softly. "I don't think either of us are quite ready for bed, yet."

"He's beautiful, Scully," Frohike said with a smile, his eyes wide in wonder. "He's gonna be a redhead like you."

Scully moved to sit on the bed, her aching thighs demanding rest. "It's a dominant trait in the Scully family. Bill was the only one of my siblings to escape it, and he still turned out fair, unlike my mom." She was still a bit sad her babe hadn't been born with a head full of dark hair, but genetics should have told her the odds against that.

She heard a noise coming from the hall, and the Gunmen confirmed that someone was there when they all turned to look. With what looked like embarrassment, they all nodded

to her and headed for the door. Scully knew immediately who was in the hall. She looked down at the baby; his dark blue eyes were still unfocused, but intent nonetheless. "Daddy's here," she whispered.

She heard the voices in the hall, but couldn't make out the words. Silence followed, then finally, he stepped into the room.

"How's everybody doing?"

She smiled, very glad he was here. She stood and began to walk over to meet him. "We're doing just fine." 

He reached down and moved the blanket away from the baby's face, then moved in to take him from her. Every time she had given the child up for someone else to hold, she had felt

nervous and empty, anxious to have him in her arms once more. But when she handed him to Mulder, she felt none of those things. Instead, she felt love pour through her. He had yet to hold the baby, to really hold him. His son.

The baby fussed a bit during the jostling of the transfer. "Hey, now!" Mulder whispered to him gently. "None of that." The baby settled easily in his arms and a huge grin spread across his face. He looked up to see Scully watching them. "Hi," he said to both her and the baby in a breathless voice. He looked back down at the bundle in his arms. "What are you gonna call him?"

"William," she said without hesitation. She had been thinking about it a lot and she knew it was appropriate. And not because it was a popular name in her family. "After your father," she explained. He looked up at her, a little surprised by her explanation, but not at all upset. She saw gratitude mixed in with the love in his eyes.

He looked down at little William again. "Well, I don't know," he said, his voice thoughtful. "He's...he's got your coloring and your eyes." She wanted to tell him that there was a big chance the blue of his eyes would change as he grew older; that there was yet a chance they might become hazel. But he continued before she could speak. "And he looks suspiciously like Assistant Director Skinner." He laughed and she couldn't help but laugh with him. She knew she didn't need to tell him the baby would eventually get more hair as well.

She sobered quickly as she remembered what Skinner had told her in confidence during his visit earlier. That they could find no evidence of Billy Miles' whereabouts, but they were still looking. "I don't understand, Mulder," she started, not wanting to talk about serious things, but needing the comfort that knowledge gave. "They came to take him from us. Why they didn't..."

Mulder, who was still watching his son, answered softly. "I don't quite understand that, either. Except that maybe he isn't what they thought he was." Scully hoped this was true,

but she didn't allow herself to believe it completely. "That doesn't make him any less of a miracle, though, does it?" Mulder looked up and met her eyes.

A miracle. That he was. She felt tears in her eyes, but smiled through them. "From the moment I became pregnant, I feared the truth," she admitted. Had the smoking man done

something to her? Had she been impregnated by someone or something in the night without her knowledge. Was her child going to be born healthy? Happy? Human? "About how and why." She looked at him again and saw understanding in his eyes. Understanding about why she had refused to discuss the origin of her baby. "And I know that you feared it, too."

He seemed to contemplate her statement for a moment, but he didn't deny it. With his thoughtful gaze on the baby, he said, "I think what we feared where the possibilities." He

looked up at her once more. "The truth we both knew."

She felt her heart speed up. "Which is what?" she asked, needing to hear him say it.

He did one better. Carefully, he leaned in and kissed her. She reached out and grasped his elbow, balancing herself carefully so she wouldn't fall into the baby, though she wanted nothing more than to push herself as close as possible to the man in front of her. He made up for their lack of body contact by stroking his tongue along her lips, encouraging her to open her mouth and allow him access. She complied willingly, reveling in the taste of him. His scent, combined with the smell of talcum powder and clean baby, was the most heavenly scent she had ever inhaled.

William, apparently upset about being forgotten, decided to remind both his parents that he was there and that he was hungry. Scully backed away from Mulder, her cheeks warm.

Mulder just grinned.

But his grin soon disappeared when William's cries not only increased in length, but in volume. "What's wrong, buddy?"

"He's hungry," Scully said.

Mulder's eyes shot up from his child to his partner, and a gleam appeared in them. "You're not going to kick me out, are you?"

Scully chewed on her lip for a moment as she considered. "No, I don't think so. But no gawking." She moved over to the bed and carefully pushed herself onto it.

"What?!" Mulder said in mock amazement. "I'd never!" He looked at the baby in his arms. "Why would she think a man like me would have any interest in looking at her beautiful breasts, especially when he hasn't had much of a chance to look at them, much less touch them, throughout the last eight years?" He glanced at Scully. "Though he really, really wanted to do both for most of those eight years."

Scully, who had sat through the mini-tirade in silence, looked at him with wide eyes. "I can't believe I'm going to say this, but, really?"

Mulder laughed and handed her William. "You think I would lie about something like that? To you?" He gazed at her, his smile becoming tender. "Yes, really."

She watched him for a moment, then began to undo the front of her dressing gown and the nightshirt underneath. Baring one breast, she maneuvered William to a comfortable position, placing a pillow under her arm to help hold him up, then settled back as he began suckling. When she looked at Mulder, she expected to see him doing exactly what she had told him not to: gawking. Instead, she saw him standing there with the most beautiful, captivating expression on his face. And a tear rolling down his cheek.

"Mulder?" she whispered, concerned and touched at the same time.

"Do you have any idea how much I've dreamed of a moment like this, Scully? How much I wanted it, not just for you, but for me as well?"

"I dreamed of a moment like this, too," she answered. "Only there was one difference."

His wet eyes met hers, full of curiosity.

"You weren't standing over us. You were holding us."

With a smile, Mulder climbed on the bed and placed his left arm around her shoulders. Gently, he brought his right hand up to stroke William's head. Scully let her head fall on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She opened them a moment later when she felt his fingertips on the upper swell of her breast. "Mulder," she said softly in warning.

"What?" he questioned softly. "You didn't say anything about not touching."

She felt a giggle well up inside her. "It can't go anywhere, you know," she told him.

"I don't expect it to," he answered, and she felt him kiss her hair. "I can wait a few weeks."

"All ready to share my bed, are you?"

"Every night, from this moment on."

She lifted her head to look at him. "That sounds suspiciously like a commitment."

Mulder's smile was affectionate, but the gleam in his eye put her on guard. "Naw. My lease expires this month. I need a place to live."

"Funny, Mulder. You think you're pretty cute, don't you?"

"Don't you?"

She laid her head back down on his shoulder. "Always have. But I think your son is cuter."

"I can live with that," he mumbled into her hair. "Scully?"

"Hmmmm?"

"I love you."

She smiled, but didn't open her eyes. "I know," she whispered. "And someday, I'll make you believe that I love you, too."

"You don't think I believe that now?"

She sighed and lifted her head to look at him. "I think you want to believe it. But I have a feeling it will take a while before you truly feel like you deserve to have me and William in your life." She saw the fear and hope mixed in his eyes. "But we're here for the long haul, Mulder. No matter what happens, you're never getting rid of us."

He closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to her forehead, then lowered his head and took her lips with his once more.

*****

Mulder fell asleep that night with his arm around his family, and for the first time in more than twenty years, he knew he was right where he belonged.

*****

EPILOGUE

July 4, 2006

Arlington, Virginia

Dana Scully sat back on her heels and wiped the sweat off her brow carefully with the back of her arm. Her hands, which were covered with a pair of gardener's gloves, were

smeared with dirt, and she didn't need it on her face. Though it was a holiday, and hot, she had decided to weed the garden now, knowing she wouldn't get the chance to this weekend. While she usually did any work in her small flower garden on Saturdays, she and Mulder would be at the Raspberry and Lace this weekend. She smiled softly to herself. Finally, after all this time, she was finally getting that weekend she had envisioned more than five years ago. She shook her head and bent back to her task. It was about time.

She glanced over at Will, who was happily playing in the mud puddle she had grudgingly helped him create earlier. His freckled face was smeared on one cheek with the gooey substance, and she knew it was mixing in with the sunscreen she had applied an hour ago. With his fair skin and copper hair, he burned easily, but Scully wasn't about to ruin his passion for the outdoors by demanding he stay out of the sun. So, they compromised with lots of sunscreen.

She glanced at the house, which sat in the midst of several shady maples and oaks. It was small and old, and it had needed a lot of work when they had bought it two years ago, but it had quickly become home. It was only a few miles from her mother's new apartment building, and only two blocks away from the St. Teresa of Avilla Catholic Church, which Scully attended every Sunday. Though she couldn't see the front of the house from her position, or the street for that matter, she anxiously watched the corner of the house for

any new arrivals. Both Frohike and Langly had promised to show up early and help her get started on the food; Frohike had a right to brag that he was awesome with a grill. And more than a handful of people would be here later this afternoon for the party in honor of the United States' 230th birthday.

Doggett had claimed he was bringing a guest, and it wasn't his partner; Reyes was coming with her boyfriend of three years, Sam Roberts. Scully knew it was Charlie Taylor he was

bringing, because the younger woman had called her up last night, excited and nervous; she was certain that John was preparing to propose. Scully thought it was about time. Of course, she shouldn't talk about long courtships, considering how long hers had been. Skinner had also hinted that he was bringing a date. Scully was very interested in meeting whoever it was.

She pulled one more weed, then sighed and sat back again. She happened to be looking at her son when his head popped up and he directed his gaze toward the front yard. "Will?"

He looked at her, and his eyes flashed green as he smiled. Pushing himself up off the ground, he began to run across the yard. "Daddy!"

Scully sighed in relief and slowly rose up off the ground, taking her gloves off and dusting off her bare knees as she began walking across the yard. She had been afraid Mulder wouldn't be able to make it until later. His new job kept him working long hours, but they both knew that with time, it would get easier. Since his dismissal from the Bureau, he had been teaching part time at Georgetown, but one short month ago, he had started working for an agency that appreciated his talents much more and that he knew he could do well in. In fact, working for the Agency gave him access to the upper ranks of Government that had eluded him since leaving the FBI. And the CIA wasn't at all disturbed with his history of disobedience, as long as he got the job done. At the moment, he was just a consultant, but as more and more people understood the depth of the alien threat, the more Mulder's services would be needed.

It made Scully proud, but it also made her nervous. Especially with the knowledge that their son would play an important part in the inevitable intergalactic confrontation.

When she rounded the corner of the house, she saw that Will had already managed to smear mud on his father's suit. But Mulder, who now carried the boy on his hip, didn't seem to mind. Scully smiled and walked toward them. "You're here!"

He grinned back at her. "Did you really think I was going to miss it?" he demanded. "It is the Fourth of July, after all. Government workers are required to have the day off."

Scully's snort told him how much she believed that statement. Teaching at the Academy as she had been doing for the past few years allowed her to take off most holidays, but now that Mulder was back in the thick of things, coinciding days off would be tough. "Well, you didn't trade it for this weekend, or anything, did you?"

"Of course not," he said as he set his son down. "I have Friday through Monday off. It'll be just you and me, babe."

"Why can't I go?" Will demanded.

Mulder looked down at the little boy. "Because your mother and I want to be alone," he explained, not for the first time. "Besides, you would be bored stiff, kiddo."

Will gave a heavy sigh and his shoulders slumped. "I guess." His eyes brightened and a smile spread across his face just moments before Mulder reached into his pocket. "Oooh! Mom! He's got a present for you!"

Mulder reached down and swatted the little boy lightly on his bottom. "Get outta here, you tattler!" The boy ran off giggling. Though he could read the thoughts and emotions of most everyone, his mental bond with his father was stronger than his connection with anyone else; they often had full conversations together without ever uttering a sound. Scully sometimes felt a twinge of jealousy during those moments, but both father and son would sense that immediately and include her without question. And thanks to their son's 'training', she and Mulder had been able to have wordless conversations of their own, though only during the most intimate of moments.

Scully watched as Mulder pulled out the little box from his pocket. Standing in front of her, he opened it and held it up for her to see. "What do you think?"

Scully smiled and reached up to finger the simple choker dotted with tiny diamonds and sapphires. "Oh, Mulder. It's beautiful." She looked up at him. "But jewelry? You never give me jewelry."

"Well, this is a special occasion," he said as he took the necklace out of the box. He moved behind her and she lifted up her shoulder length hair so he could slip the choker around her neck. When he finished, he leaned down and gently bit her ear. Despite the heat of the day, she shivered. "Happy Anniversary, Mrs. Mulder."

She turned and lifted her arms around his neck. "Thank you, Mr. Mulder." She lifted her face up to receive his kiss, but before their lips could meet, a car horn sounded from the

street behind Scully.

Mulder looked over her shoulder. "I'm gonna kill him," he muttered. Scully turned in his arms to see Doggett getting out of his car. Charlie Taylor was stepping out of the passenger side.

Scully smiled. "You're early, Agent Doggett!"

"Yeah, I know," he replied as he reached Charlie and grasped her hand. "But we didn't want to miss anything."

"Like what?" Mulder growled.

Will came barreling around the house, globs of wet mud in his little fists. "Uncle John! Come help me!"

"Help you what?!" John called back.

"Mud fight!" Will yelled, tossing the goop in his hands toward the adults. He missed, as he had intended to, but, knowing his actions would set off his mother's wrath, took off squealing toward the back yard once again.

"William Fox Mulder!" Scully yelled. "Get back here and apologize!" With a glare at her husband, she headed for the back yard. "He's your son!"

Doggett laughed and looked at Charlie. "What did I tell you? This is where the action is!"

THE END

How do you define normal?

Author's note: As I'm sure you can tell by my ending, this was written with the impression that Season 8 was the last Mulder AND Scully season, and "Existence" was the last Mulder AND Scully episode. Though I continued watching and actually enjoyed Season 9, we’ll pretend it didn’t happen. Mulder never left, Scully never gave William up for adoption, and the revival also never happened.