XXX

"You were great!"  Jessica enthused as she shut the door behind
Mulder's re-entry, and turned to smile at him.

"Yeah, thanks."  Mulder just barely acknowledged her appreciative
words, he had other things on his  mind, more important ones--like
getting his own clothes back on.  He didn't even care that she was
there in the same room with him; he hooked his thumbs in the waistband
of the lycra leggings and started to push them over his hips.  They'd
been more comfortable than he thought they would be, and he decided
the faster he got out of them, the sooner he could get out of here,
and the likelihood of him wanting a pair of his own would be lessened.
The sound of the door opening stopped him in mid-strip, and he
straightened abruptly, pulling the leggings back up.  Jessica spun
around at the same time, obviously just as surprised as he was at the
interruption.  Two people entered the room, and Mulder promptly forgot
all about Jessica.  He was face to face with--

"Rocky!  Finally!"  Jessica recovered first.

"Scully?"  Mulder whispered in horror.

"You!"  Who had to be Rocky Hardin, didn't know his name.

"Oh, Mulder--what...how...for God's..."  Scully couldn't finish a
sentence, and that worried  Mulder all the more.

"Holy shit..."  Jessica breathed, staring outright.  "You guys are
scary."  

She was looking back and forth between him and Rocky Hardin like she
was at a tennis match, her eyes big.  He glanced at his supposed
lookalike, and shook his head.  Fringe on a leather jacket?  Not in my
closet.  He didn't really have anything in common with this other guy,
did he?  Mulder frowned at Hardin, and was disturbed to see basically
the same expression on the other man's face.  True, they had the same
hair color, and eye color, were pretty close to the same height and
weight, the facial structure was eerily similar, and yeah, he didn't
seem to tan either.  But there were differences...like clothes--oh,
that's significant.   Surely there were some others...

"Look, whoever you are--I...I don't think I like this, but there's no
time to argue about it now--"

Hardin interrupted Mulder's thoughts.  "I haven't said anything, yet,"
he protested.  "But now that I think about it, how did you acquaint
yourself with my partner?"  He looked suspiciously at both Hardin and
Scully.  What was she doing with this guy?  How did they get together
in a hotel this size?

"Mulder, he's--"

Hardin shook his head impatiently, interrupting  Scully, too.  "She
came to my room.  It doesn't matter right now.  She said I could do my
promo.  Now, give me my outfit so I can go finish it!"  He took a step
towards Mulder, his hand out.

Mulder glared at him.  "What was she doing in your room?"  He made no
move towards changing his clothes.

Scully broke in, sounding truly annoyed.  "'She' is here, and very
unhappy that no one will speak to her directly!"

He turned towards his partner.  "Well?"

"He's part of ...of why we're here."  

She gave him a pointed look, and he frowned in confusion.  "How?"

Hardin sighed loudly, and he saw Scully glance at him.  They exchanged
looks of sympathy and pleading, then she turned towards him again.  

"Please, Mulder, put on your suit, and give Mr. Hardin his...his, um,
outfit.  I'll explain everything while we wait for him to finish his
promotional appearance."

"Yeah, honey, give him the leggings.  And where's that hair stuff?
They're probably starting to get pissed that Rocky's not out there
answering questions, and you don't want anyone to come in here looking
for him!" Jessica broke in, unexpectedly the voice of reason.

Mulder stiffened slightly, as the realization struck him.  "I have to
stay in here while you're out there, they can't see both of us at the
same time."

Jessica nodded, "That's right, hon, at least for awhile, till
everyone's distracted with Rocky, again."

He sighed. He was being pushed, and he didn't like it, and what was
the meaning of those knowing looks between Hardin and his partner?
They hadn't know each other long enough for that kind of
communication.  He had to know, and he dreaded finding out.  But why?
"All right, but this isn't finished."  He spoke warningly to the other
man.

"Of course not, I promised Miss Scully we'd finish right after the
promo.  Now, give me my outfit!"

Mulder again hitched his fingers in the waistband of the leggings,
then paused.  They were all watching him. "You could at least turn
around!"  Scully, Jessica and Hardin all rolled their eyes at the same
time, and turned around.  He ditched the leggings as fast as he could,
and pulled his knit boxers, pants and shirt on just as quickly.
"Okay."  Hardin practically spun around in mid-air and dove for the
spandex.  He didn't bother asking any of them to turn around, Hardin
just began pulling off his clothes like he was trying for a disrobing
record.  Mulder turned away, though he briefly wondered if he and
Hardin were similar in any other, more personal ways...  He shuddered.
Don't go there, Mulder!  

He looked at Scully; she had wandered over to one of the other tables
and was fiddling with some bit of costume she'd picked it up.  It was
a mixture of leather and feathers, but not strange enough to be
holding Scully's full attention for this long.  She was avoiding him,
at least until they were alone.  He suppressed a sigh; behind him he
could hear the sounds of  Hardin, with Jessica helping, prepare to go
out and finish the promo he'd started.  

"How's my hair?"

"Great.  Straighten that.  Now look at me."

"Doesn't a harness go with this?"

"Yeah, but he wouldn't wear it.....you look fab in it, come on, let's
go."

Mulder figured by this last from Jessica that it was time for Hardin
to make his appearance.  He turned around, just as the other man was
headed for the door, Jessica on his heels.  Hardin was wearing the
leather harness, it added a dimension that Mulder just hadn't been
prepared to deal with.

"Miss Scully?  I'll be back in half an hour, then I'm all yours."
Hardin called to his partner, as he opened the door.

He saw Scully look up, and soften her expression as she caught
Hardin's eye.

"I--we--will be waiting.   And, good luck."

"Thanks!"  

And then they were gone, and he and Scully were alone.  He turned to
face her squarely.  She was looking back at him, those laser beam blue
eyes fixed on his face.  He felt like she was reading his thoughts,
and he didn't have to say a word.  They were silent for a time.
Scully spoke first.

"Honey?"

Mulder was startled.  She's calling me honey?  Then it dawned on him.
She was recalling Jessica's earlier endearment, and sounding annoyed
by it.  He shrugged mentally.  "It was a bribe.  She wanted me to go
do that photography session and thereby save her butt.  I guess it's
appropriate, because Hardin was late because of you."  He folded his
arms.  "Care to explain?"  Now he sounded annoyed.

Scully moved away to seat herself in one of the folding chairs,
crossing her legs and settling in for their half  hour wait.  
"It's very simple, really.  I went to check out Shaun Patrick
O'Malley's room.  When I let myself in with the key management gave
me, there was Mr. Hardin.  In bed.  Asleep.   The hotel made a mistake
and checked him into that room--I haven't spoken to them about it yet,
but they probably thought that the room itself didn't matter.  He
explained to me who he was, and why he was here in Las Vegas.  I told
him he'd have to move out of his room, and since I didn't want to
damage his career and to fend off a potential lawsuit, I allowed him
to make this publicity appearance.  I suppose there is a very small,
outside chance that he is an associate of  O'Malley's, but I don't
think so.  He promised he would check right out of the room as soon as
the appearance was over, and I'm with him to make sure of that--I also
want to make sure the hotel treats him well because they are
ultimately at fault for his inconvenience.  That brings us to right
here."

"Not quite.  You didn't mention his distinct resemblance to someone
you know very well."  Mulder didn't want to dissect their
similarities, but it was odd Scully didn't bring it up at all.  

She didn't answer him right away, when she did, her tone was very
deliberate, as if she was weighing each word.  "Of course, I saw it
immediately.  As I spoke to him, and observed him, I realized that he
is not even vaguely like you, on all the levels that count.  I'm
surprised that you're not enjoying this more--it seems to be right up
your alley."  

Mulder wanted to ask her-- what levels?  Something deep inside him
lurched; Scully's voice had been very dispassionate, why did her
pronouncement make him feel almost dizzy?  She'd changed the subject,
turning it back to him and obviously did not want to discuss what she
meant.  He took a deep breath, and silently told his stomach to stop
tap dancing.  "I guess because I'm the object of study, and I haven't
had a chance to think about all the implications and possibilities.
These are pretty bizarre circumstances."  He gestured, taking in the
room and towards the convention outside.  

"True.  I'm sure you two will have a very interesting conversation,
when you have a chance.  We do have to make sure he's not involved in
this case, but I'm just dying to hear how you ended up in grey spandex
on stage at a pornography convention.  What were you using for a
brain?  It's quite a chance you took."  She shook her head warningly.
"And if anyone at the Bureau found out--you know your enemies would
love to use that against you."

Mulder sighed.  "Believe me, my whole life flashed before my eyes,
then crashed and burned like no X-file has ever made it.  But, it
wasn't me out there, it was Rocky Hardin, and I figured, if I didn't
have to talk, what the hell...tough decision for a real rule-keeper
like me."  He grinned slyly at her.  "It'd almost be worth seeing the
look on Skinner's face, when he found out--right before he had the
heart attack.  Besides, that photo session was the extent of my career
in the adult movie business--it's not nearly as exciting as the FBI."
Scully raised her eyebrows, but didn't comment.  "Anyway, maybe I will
talk with Hardin."  Mulder nodded, warming to the whole situation a
bit.  He couldn't help it, his curiosity was getting the best of him,
as it often did.  "You know, it is a known fact that we all have a
non-familial twin somewhere..."  The sound of laughter interrupted
him.  He frowned.  "What...?"

Scully stopped chuckling.  "Nothing.  I'm sorry, but could you just
keep that little talk between you and Rocky?  I've had enough of that
for a while.  Why don't you tell me about your interview with
O'Malley?"

"All right. ..."  And he spent the next twenty minutes filling her in
on his venture to the Las Vegas Police Department.  Mulder finally
decided to perch on the edge of the table near Scully, now so into the
alien gamblers that he'd temporarily forgotten his own odd feelings
from earlier.  He finished up by describing her next duty for their
case.  "...and I'll want you to physically examine him, Scully.  He
says they opened--"  The door suddenly flew open, and they both jumped
to their feet, then relaxed.  It was Rocky Hardin, looking excited
enough to fly across the room, and he practically did.  There was a
big smile on his face, and he went straight to Scully, his arms open
wide.  Before either of them could move, Hardin scooped her up into
what Mulder now noticed were more muscular arms than his, and planted
a kiss on both of her cheeks.  

"Mr. Hardin, please!  Put me down, I'm a federal agent!  I gather it
went well?" 

Her words were stern, but Mulder saw her smile over Hardin's shoulder.
The other man did as he was told, too energized to stand still anyway.


"It went great!!  Thanks so much for letting me do it--"  

Mulder watched the other man pace around the room, quick and graceful,
shining with sweat and enthusiasm.  On Rocky, it looked good--and so
very different than he.  His shoulders drooped a bit--Scully had
practically out and out told him that he was much better than Hardin,
that they only looked alike, and looks aren't important.  But he could
see Scully watching Hardin practically dance across the room, and
right this minute he would trade every intellectual accomplishment he
had achieved to have her look at him like that, just once.  Mulder,
she's your partner, if she looked at you like you were steak on the
grill, you both would be in big trouble...and suddenly the dizziness,
and tap dancing stomach made sense:  the lines of partnership and
working for the Bureau had been compromised, and he had Rocky Hardin
to blame, or was it thank?  The tap dancing changed into gymnastics,
and Mulder put a hand to his stomach.

"Mulder?  Are you all right?"  

He started.   His partner's voice had come from very close by.
Looking down, he realized that she'd moved to right in front of him,
and was scanning his face intently.   "Yeah, I'm...fine.  Why do you
ask?"  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hardin finally stand still;
the other man had a concerned look on his face, too.  "I'm fine,"  he
repeated firmly.    "Isn't it time we moved on?"  Now it was his turn
to change the subject.

Scully gave him a strange look, but didn't argue.  She turned to face
Hardin.  "He's right, Rocky.  I kept my part of the bargain, now it's
your turn."

Hardin grinned at her.  "Okay--I just gotta change back into my
clothes."  He started to walk towards the chair where he'd flung them
in his undressing frenzy, but changed direction mid-stride.  Hardin,
his hand out, made a beeline straight for Mulder, who took it
hesitantly.  For a moment they looked each other straight in the eye,
hands clasped in a firm handshake whether the FBI agent liked it or
not.  Mulder stood his ground, and refused to catch the other's
infectious smile.  Hardin didn't seem to notice.

"Hey, I don't know your name.  It's not Rocky, is it?  That'd be too
weird."

Scully coughed, and Mulder tossed her a glare before answering the
other man.  "No, it's not Rocky.  It's Fox Mulder.  Special Agent Fox
Mulder."

"Miss Scully never mentioned that the man who looked like me worked
with her.  Frankly, the way she described you, I thought 'saint' had
to be part of your name somewhere.  'Fox', huh?  That sure fits both
of us!"  He burst out laughing as he released Mulder's hand, and went
back to change his clothes.

Mulder looked at Scully, who was now very interested in a pair of
satin shorts hanging from a clothes rack on the opposite side of the
room from both of them.  Scully had given Hardin the impression that
he, Mulder the outcast, was a saint?!   His expression gentled as he
looked at her, fingering the satin with an intensity she usually
reserved for dead bodies.  The smallest spark of hope flickered inside
him--he'd hardly dared to imagine himself discussing his stomach
gymnastics with her before--Scully'd always been all work--but maybe,
now, there was something to have a serious conversation about?  He
swallowed hard;  his liver had joined his stomach in trying out for
the Olympic gymnastic team.  I, who have faced six foot fluke worms,
vampires, fat sucking mutants, cigarette smoking men and even possibly
the devil himself, without blinking an eye, am scared of discussing
any of this with my partner.  What am I going to do?  Am I making too
much of this?  He didn't like the sound of that at all.

"Mulder?  We're leaving, so keep your head down, we don't want to
attract any unwanted attention."  

Scully broke into his thoughts, but not really looking at him as she
motioned for him to follow her and Hardin, who was now dressed.  He
obeyed, walking behind both of them on the quickest path through the
convention ballroom, mind still reeling with the possibilities.

xxx

Room 6226, MGM Grand Hotel 
10:12 p.m.


Special Agent Dana Scully walked to the window of her hotel room and
drew open the curtains.  Light in rainbow colors spilled in, gold and
green and blue and white and red, and she didn't bother turning on the
lamp.  It was nice to be back in the relative peace and quiet of her
room, and she sank down on the edge of the bed closest to the window.
She turned off her thoughts, and just sat, watching the lights and
what they did to the night sky above this part of Nevada.  Scully
kicked off her suede pumps, then slipped out of her blazer, tossing it
at the chair by the table.  It missed, but she didn't care.  She took
a long, slow, deep breath, and allowed one thought to sneak through
the 'relax, Dana' barrier:  I guess I should take a shower....but she
made no move to get up.  The lights were such a pleasant distraction,
she just might sit there all night.  There was a sudden thud from the
room next door, the one that Mulder occupied, and she started
slightly, glancing at the connecting door.  It was slightly ajar, and
she considered calling out, but changed her mind.  She just wasn't
quite ready for a conversation she knew they needed to have.  

Mulder had kept giving her the most peculiar looks during the rest of
their work day, mostly when he thought she couldn't see him.  Scully
had caught enough of them, and frankly they'd made her squirm.  They'd
spent the rest of the afternoon dealing with (relatively speaking)
mundane matters:  both she and her partner had taken Rocky to see the
hotel manager--they had immediately found him another room; the last
she'd seen of Rocky, he was being led to his new accommodations, and
the manager was on the phone ordering him 'a bloody big fruit
basket.'"  She smiled to herself, Rocky had flashed her a look over
his shoulder as he went with the bellboy that had a distinctly wicked
cast to it--he was obviously enjoying himself.  She'd called in a
request for anything the Bureau's considerable resources had on Rocky,
but she sincerely doubted he had any kind of a record--but you
couldn't judge by appearances, and he had chosen an offbeat career
path to follow, and in another country.  Mulder had gotten right to
business as if the last couple of hours hadn't happened, and she
hadn't argued, using her cellular phone to call the Las Vegas Police
Department and arrange her own interview and medical exam for Shaun
Patrick O'Malley.  Mulder had firmly announced that he would take up
the search of O'Malley's old room--he hadn't mentioned Rocky--and was
there any hotel staff member she thought he should speak to?  There
were three, she gave him their names, and he used a house phone to
call Mr. Callahan and ask him to make the necessary arrangements.

They had gone their separate ways for the second time that day, and
she'd almost told her partner to stay out of trouble, but something
had stopped her--perhaps it had been all those peculiar looks.  Hours
later, they reconvened at the Coyote Cafe (one of the hotel's many
restaurants) for dinner and a mutual reporting session.  She'd found
enough in her preliminary exam (odd scars, soft spots, strange reflex
reactions, among others) to warrant taking O'Malley to a more
sophisticated medical facility for further tests, and had stood her
ground with Detective Wagner when he'd dragged his feet on handling
the details for getting O'Malley to the local hospital.  She'd wanted
it then, he insisted it had to be the next day 'sometime'--they
compromised, he would push the paperwork through and meet her at 9:30
a.m., sharp.  Mulder had found a button under the bed and a ten dollar
chip in the nightstand (in other words, nothing)  during his search of
O'Malley's room, and had questioned the three hotel employees with
enough depth that he could dispute and dismiss Scully's only slight
suspicions about them.  Business finished, at least temporarily,
they'd sat at the table, Scully absently sipping her tea and her
partner playing with his piece of apple pie a la mode.  She finally
hadn't been able to bear it, and asked her question:  'Had he seen,
and talked to, Rocky, er, Mr. Hardin?'

Mulder had continued picking apples out of his pie and sliding them
through the vanilla ice cream before he popped them in his mouth as
he'd answered.  Scully almost hadn't heard a word he said, there was
something strangely...compelling...about how he'd been eating that
damn apple pie.  He'd kept his reply short--yes, they'd spoken while
he'd been waiting for Scully to return from the police station.
They'd discussed enough of their lives and background to decide that
they had nothing in common beyond the physicality of their
resemblance.  The only characteristic that they shared was incredible
memory power--Rocky memorized scripts, articles, book passages with as
much ease as Mulder did his text books and case files.  Scully hadn't
been able to stop the laugh from escaping; when Mulder had looked
questioningly at her, she'd clued him in--'what script?'  Then they'd
both laughed, breaking the tension that had been swirling around them
all afternoon.  She and Mulder had even relaxed enough to take the
monorail in back of their hotel, which  dropped them at Bally's Hotel,
on the Strip.  They'd walked around a bit, people watching and
enjoying the immense electrical display up and down the street--it was
quite a sight, you had to admit it, no matter how jaded you were.
After an hour or so, they'd caught the return monorail and finally
headed for their rooms.  As she'd put her key in the door, she'd
hesitated, looking up and over to where Mulder was doing the same
thing; suddenly the tension was back, and she'd mumbled a quick 'good
night.'  She heard him respond, 'yeah, no wandering around here any
more, not safe...' and then she was inside.  Scully'd gone straight to
the window; if she'd noticed the connecting door open before, she
would have closed it right then.  But it was still ajar, and she could
hear the sounds of Mulder turning on the television and rummaging in
his suitcase, and suddenly, silence.  Then, a tap at the connecting
door made her jump.

"Scully?"

She'd turned away from the window at the sound of the tap to scoot
around on the bed to face the door.  She saw Mulder leaning in, head
down.  "Yes?"

"You, ah, have time to get breakfast in the morning before you see
O'Malley?"

He finally looked up, faint hope reflected in his raised eyebrows. 

She just stared at him for a minute.  Well, either you're going to
pretend nothing strange has happened today, that neither one us heard
and said things we haven't before, or this is a neutral opening line.
Well, Mulder, I'm gonna give you a break--take it, you don't get many
in Las Vegas.  She smiled, hoping he couldn't see the apprehension in
the gesture, and waved him in.  "Come here, Mulder.  Please?"

"Of course, Scully."

He pushed the door open wider and walked in, perching on the edge of
the dresser.  She could see him and his profile as it reflected in the
wide mirror above the dresser.  The lights from his room and outside
were enough to have this conversation by, any brighter and she would
have probably stopped right there, but she plunged ahead.  "Mulder,
what were you thinking today, at the convention?"

He just looked at her for a moment, and she thought she saw his
shoulders droop a bit.  "I told you, Scully, I wasn't--not enough
anyway.  Sometimes you just have to go for it, even though there's a
thousand reasons not to.  Maybe the devil made me do it--"

Scully frowned, interrupting him.  She hadn't been clear enough, and
now Mulder was taking a frivolous turn.  No, not this time.  "The
devil we've met doesn't have time for that kind of silliness, Mulder."

"It was a joke, Scully."  He pointed that out gently.

"I know, but I don't feel like joking now."  She took a deep breath.
"I feel like talking.  Are you game?"

Mulder shrugged.  "This is Vegas--let's talk."

His words were casual, but she knew from the way his body stiffened he
was taking her seriously.  Good.  Here we go...  "I meant, what were
you thinking about, afterwards, when we were waiting for Rocky to
finish his appearance--you looked at me so strangely...'  Scully
faltered.  This was going to be tougher than she thought; she and
Mulder just didn't discuss their feelings about each other--no matter
what they were.  They discussed many things, and argued easily, and
often, but the friendship, caring, trust, love--they were all shown
with actions, not words.  But self-examinations and revelations
occurred at the strangest times, when you least expected, or wanted
them, and were inspired by the strangest of messengers.  Who would
have thought a pornographic movie actor visiting from Germany would
have goaded her into taking a clearer look at her partner?  Describing
Mulder to Rocky had forced her to think about and use her own insights
on another person in a way that no one else had ever asked her, or
cared about.  Hardin could not have cared less about what a great
federal agent Mulder was--he'd only wanted to know how they were
alike, and then he'd reasoned that he couldn't have lived up to her
opinion of his lookalike.  She'd had to agree;  she thought Mulder was
incredibly gifted, and special, though those hadn't been her exact
words, Rocky had cut right to the heart of them--her heart.  Yes, I
did 'argue way too much.' And if she had even an inkling of what was
making Mulder act weirder than usual, then Rocky had probably jolted
him out of  emotional stasis, too.   Obviously, it was going to be up
to her to coax Mulder into admitting--what, she still didn't know, and
was not quite sure herself, except she did know that there was a
change in the air that they had to clear.   How many times--about
other subjects--had one tried to reassure the other enough to share
whatever was bothering them, and they'd refused, for whatever reason:
self-defense, mutual protection, fear of being too close.  They both
could use a dose of Rocky's unabashed, and unthinking, enthusiasm, and
just for once, damn the consequences. 

Scully looked at Mulder; his jacket and tie must have been discarded
before he'd come into her room, his white shirt and light colored
pants glowed in the muted illumination coming in through the window.
He was still perched on the edge of the dresser, hands at his sides,
and trying to look patient--only a lightly tapping finger gave him
away.  Then suddenly, he moved, a swift, smooth crouch, then a hop up
more fully onto the dresser, and he was still again.  In that moment,
he'd had every bit of grace that Rocky had shown--how had she never
seen it before?  What else was waiting to be known, significant, or
minor detail, about her partner?   I want to know.  Does he want to
know about me?  Maybe not, but as of tonight the wondering will be
over.  You're taking quite a chance here, Dana--this is personal, with
a capital 'P', and if things don't go as planned--as I hope, she
corrected, this is emotional, not predictable.  Is the foundation of
your relationship strong enough to put aside this discussion and
continue as efficiently as before, or will I have ruined a good thing?
But if I don't ask, I may be missing a 'good thing'--the best thing
that can happen to anyone.  At least I'll know I tried, and that
regret, at least, will not be one of mine.  I will trust Mulder to
meet my challenge, and I will have the faith in our relationship.  At
least he hasn't tried to leave, or refused to listen.  Buoyed by even
that faint affirmation, she took a deep breath, and pushed together
enough of her scattered courage to keep going.  "...and you kept
looking at me strangely, all day.  Will you tell me what was in those
looks?  Please, I really need to know..."

"If you will tell me why you would hardly look at me at all..."

She'd sensed Mulder's hesitation before he answered; and his response
was a difficult question, but fair, considering the circumstances, and
a perfect counterpoint to hers.  She knew then they were both dancing
on the same obtuse path.  Scully decided to set a good example with a
straight answer, otherwise this could go on all night with no
progress.  I don't need to know the destination yet, but we've got to
get somewhere with this!  

"Because you've taken on a whole new dimension for me, Mulder, and
it's one that I think I want to explore.  Frankly, it scares
me--uncharted territory, having no idea of what my reception will
be--but if I've learned one thing from you, it's that my fears will
never be worth not taking the chance to discover something new and
valuable...so here goes:  I want more than a working relationship--I
want another kind of partnership besides the one we have.  I...want to
know how you feel about me, honestly, and if it's not the same,
it's...okay."  It's not okay, but I would work at making it okay--I
don't want to lose him completely, I'll take what I can get.  She
swallowed hard, apprehension making her throat even drier than the
Vegas heat could have affected it.  "I want to know that the Phoebes,
and the Bambis and the Detective Whites of the world don't stand a
chance against me."

"I...didn't know you cared, or even noticed any of them, beyond the
cases they were involved in."  There was a look of wonderment on
Mulder's face as he spoke.  "But, I'm really glad that you
do...I...was thinking that I'd give anything to have you look at me
the way you looked at Rocky after he'd picked you up and...kissed you.
Scully, I feel...that we've been more than working partners for a long
time, but we just didn't see it, until today."

Scully had to strain to hear him, his voice was practically a whisper.
She leaned forward, staring fiercely at his face, willing him to look
back at her with the same intensity.   She could hear the sense of
time lost in his choice of words, and she wasn't going to let him look
back.  The implications hadn't fully registered yet, but she knew that
he at least shared enough of  her feelings to look to the future with
her.  It was time to go forward, and there was only one way to do
that, for both of them... "Let  me in, Mulder...and I'm yours, if you
want me...."

"I'll try...and I do....very much."  

It was a start, and Scully smiled at her partner, putting as much
encouragement and love in the gesture as she possibly could.  He
smiled back, shyly, but there was an amazing light of beginning joy in
his eyes, and she figured if he felt half the emotion she did right
now, his heart was probably ready to leap out of his chest.  Mulder
slid off the dresser, more slowly than he'd hopped on earlier, and
stood up straight.  He made a slight, uncertain gesture with his
hands, and took a hesitant step towards her.  It was enough--she
pushed herself up off the bed and was at his side instantly, wrapping
her arms around his waist.  She held him so tightly, Scully thought
sure he was going to tell her he couldn't breathe and to let go, but
he didn't.  Mulder pulled her even closer, and laid his cheek on the
top of her head.    She could feel his heart pounding in his chest,
belying the stillness of the moment.  Her heart was keeping time with
his, and that was the way she always wanted it to be.

"Scully?"  He murmured into her hair.  

"Mm-hmm?"

"May I pick you up and kiss you?"

She felt him lift his head, and she turned her face up to his.
Mulder's expression was serious, but the joy was burning steadily now
in the hazel eyes, and a flicker of desire had joined forces with the
first emotion.  She tangled her fingers in his shirt, feeling his back
muscles tense at their touch.  Scully smiled at him, and tilted her
head enticingly.  "I thought you'd never ask..."

xxx
 
Mulder let go of her with one arm, bending down to slide it under
Scully's knees and lift her up; she'd released his waist, moving her
hands to gently encircle his neck, her eyes never leaving his face.
He carried her over to the chair by the window and sat down carefully.
She'd lifted her feet to let them hang over the arm of the chair, and
when they were seated, she leaned in close enough for him to lower his
head to easily touch his lips to hers.  He kissed her gently, slowly;
her mouth was soft and full, and he just wanted to feel it next to his
own for awhile.  He did take his arm from under her knees and shift it
to cross her waist, pulling her even closer.  Now that he had her so
near to him, knowing the depth of caring and courage and maybe love?
that it had taken to speak of her true feelings--and that was
something neither one of them did easily--he wasn't going to let go.
Mulder had hardly dared hope--in fact, hadn't even considered--that
when she'd told him she wanted to talk, that this would be their
destination.  He'd been thinking that he was going to have to figure
out a way to keep how he felt about her to himself, to not even give
her a hint, because she would have come up with all the reasons why
they shouldn't be together, and never mind how she actually felt.  And
at the end of her cool, logical argument, he still wouldn't have known
if she'd agreed with his feelings or not.  The thought of going back
to Washington, seeing her every day and having to remember the moment
when he'd realized exactly how special she was to him--and had said
and done nothing about it, had been killing him.  He'd had the best of
intentions for not speaking up--working partners shouldn't have an
intimate relationship, it would affect their careers, and so on--but
now he could finally admit to himself that he'd been just plain scared
to ask her.  I've been hurt, so many times, but I think Scully
rejecting me would have been the worst...but to never know at all,
when there could even be a breath of a tiny chance that she might have
some kind of feeling for me...and just when I thought, 'I don't give a
damn if she laughs all the way back to the Bureau, I've got to try...
she beat me to it.  And what do you know, she didn't laugh at all.  My
luck's changing for the better all the time.

Mulder pulled away from their kiss, carefully, but only the briefest
of distances, and didn't open his eyes.  He could feel his partner's
puzzlement, and whispered her name reassuringly.  "Scully..."

"Yes?"

From her answer he could tell she hadn't moved at all, and he could
feel the warmth of her face close to his.  "You are the bravest human
being I know, and I am the luckiest, because you care for me."  He
opened his eyes, and looked into hers; a beam of light edging through
the window made them crystal blue, and they were locked on to his own.
Her auburn hair was spilling down her forehead, and he reached up to
stroke it with one finger, then push it tenderly back into place.  She
smiled up at him, and he didn't think anything could be more
beautiful.  This time, when he leaned down to kiss her, he let the
power of his feelings express itself in his intensity.  Appreciative,
but not satisfied with just kissing her lips, he teased her mouth open
with his tongue, and when she let him in, he touched, then tangled his
tongue with hers.  He felt her hands ease up his neck and clasp the
back of his head, pulling him down even closer.  Mulder caressed her
cheek, and he felt her lean into the gesture, even though her lips
never left his.  They kissed for a long time, finally parting lips to
explore other areas of each other's faces; Mulder discovered that
kissing her eyes made her sigh happily, and when Scully had reached to
kiss just beneath his ear, it made him shiver with enjoyment.  But not
once did they go any farther below than under the other's chin.  When
there wasn't another unkissed inch on Scully's face, Mulder pushed
back a bit, regretfully, but it was time for one more question.  His
body was starting to send him a very distinct message, and it was
getting too difficult to ignore.  He wanted more, he wanted to kiss
the rest of her, and make love to her, and even though his brain was
telling him to take it easy, this was still so new, so fragile, and
(he wanted to do this right, didn't he?) his body was starting to win
the battle.  It was the measure of his respect for his partner (in
all, now) above anything else he was feeling, that he told his body to
shut up, and though he would venture to ask Scully about the next
step, (he could hope, couldn't he?) he would abide by her answer.  I
don't want to do anything to make her regret tonight...it's whatever I
can do for her that's important. 


"Scully?"  His voice was firm, and she sat up a bit, a faint frown of
confusion flickering over her features.  He smiled, and used the
gesture to hide his sudden apprehension.  "I want...I want you.  And
need you, but if you aren't sure, about something, anything, this is
the time to say so.  I really want to show you how I feel, and I love
kissing you, but I can't help but wonder what it would be like to kiss
your throat, your shoulders, your arms, your..."  Here he paused; his
eyes had slowly trailed down each part of her body as he'd mentioned
it, and he made himself stop.  Scully hadn't said anything; granted he
hadn't let her get a word in edgewise, and it was time for her to
speak.  He took a deep breath, and it left him shaky instead of being
a calming effect.   "Tell me, Scully, I have to know.   We're going to
do this however you want."

She shook her head, and his chest tightened.  Was she upset?  Oh no,
already?  Mulder, you jerk, get in there and fix it, no matter what...
Her voice suddenly registered, and he forced himself to relax and
listen.

"No, Mulder...it's however we want.  I would never want you to do
something you didn't want to, and..."  she suddenly looked away, and
he could see her face color slightly.  "I want to kiss your shoulders,
too....and other...places."   She covered her face with her hands, and
he leaned forward to kiss the fingers on each hand tenderly.  She'd as
much as said she wanted what he did, and he found her embarrassed but
decisive statement of her needs just one more reason to fill him with
admiration.  "You're right, we're in this together..."

Scully reached up and took his face in her small hands.  "And don't
you forget it."

He shook his head.  "Never."  He mouthed the word, and that made it
all the more powerful.  She nodded in understanding.

"Now that that's settled, may I offer you a shoulder?"   She sat up
slightly, and shifted her left shoulder toward him.  It was smooth,
and pale, and covered only  by the narrow strap of her silk tank top.


He wanted nothing more than to wander over it with his mouth, tasting
her skin, slipping under the silk shirt...but.... "Scully, what about
the Bureau...this isn't even vaguely policy..."  He stopped abruptly,
silenced by her finger on his lips.  She had a mildly exasperated look
on her face, but there was a smile, too.

"Mulder, I'm beginning to think that you don't really want to do this.
If you've changed your mind, just say so, it's okay, we can slow down.
And if you're afraid, of me, or doing something wrong, don't be--I'll
be with you, just like always.  As far as work goes--"  She shrugged.
"We'll figure that out when we have to.  I know I usually analyze
everything, but not this time.  This is the best thing that could have
happened to me, too, and I'm not going to give you up.  You make me
happy, and I deserve it.  And I'm going to make you glad to be with
me, too.  Of course it's going to be a gamble, but if Las Vegas isn't
the place to take your best shot, nowhere else is!"  

She finally finished speaking, and sat looking at him, one eyebrow
raised, her mouth quirked in a smile, and best of all, love in her
eyes.  Mulder grinned back.  "Well, G-woman, when you're right, you're
right."  His eyes narrowed, a wicked gleam in them.  "If I lean this
way to kiss your shoulder, you should be just about able to reach my
throat.  Will that do?"

Scully grinned back.  "For now...."

xxx

Once satisfied that they'd considered the other's feelings and
thoughts--for this new aspect to their relationship, for what they
were about to do--and were at least on the same wavelength, she was
ready to set about making her first sexual encounter with Mulder a
memorable experience--for both of them, she hoped.  As far as she was
concerned, her partner had a talent for kissing that even his prowess
at solving cases for the FBI couldn't match.  Talk about
'investigative services'!  So far, so good.   And she was looking
forward to finding out what other talents he'd been hiding behind and
with those baggy suits and loose jeans he always wore and she'd only
had a promising glimpse of in grey spandex... Right now, though, she
was still in her partner's lap, her head was tilted backwards and he
was alternately kissing her shoulder and nibbling at her earlobe.  It
was a delightful sensation, and she could've sat there for another
hour at least, but in this particular position, there just wasn't
enough for her to do, and since she was feeling so wonderful because
of Mulder, it made her want to start showing her appreciation.  Scully
brought her head forward (Mulder didn't miss a nibble) so she could
stretch her arms out and wrap them around his shoulders and back.  Now
that she was even closer, he moved on to planting tiny, moist kisses
along the bit of back he could now reach.  This too, was very
pleasant, but Scully had an ulterior motive.  

She slid her right hand all the way down his side, feeling the warmth
of his skin under the linen, until she reached his waist.  Then she
took firm hold of his shirt and pulled it just free enough of his
pants so she could slip her hand inside.  Scully's left hand gently
cupped the back of his neck, letting it follow the movements of his
head as he continued kissing her.   She began exploring his back with
her other hand, running her fingers up and down soft skin that covered
long, lean muscles, massaging gently now, then raking her nails
lightly along his spine.  This made him arch up and away from her, and
a soft gasp escaped his lips.  He paused, panting slightly as he shook
his finger at her.  

"That...was not fair...you moved on, without telling me."

"I just wanted to let you know how wonderful you're making me feel..."
Scully smiled at him, but her hand hadn't stopped its survey of her
partner's back, and every circle she made went lower down, culminating
with one finger easing itself under the waistband of his trousers and
sliding all the way around to his hip.  There she paused, and looked
into a pair of very curious, very anticipatory, hazel eyes very close
to her own; Scully could feel him quivering, probably wondering where
she was going to go from here, but letting her decide in her own time.
Well, Dana, don't just sit there--he's willing to let you make the
next move.  Weren't you wondering something earlier?  Time to find
out!   "Okay, Mulder--just so there's no confusion--"  Scully grinned,
then began disentangling herself from her partner's clothing and grip.
He tried to hold on, but she was just as determined, and wiggled out
of his clinging arms.   She stood up, then motioned for him to do the
same.  She sat back in the chair, her posture very straight, but legs
crossed invitingly at the knee.  "--here's the next step.  I would
very much...very much like to see you out of those clothes.  I told
you I wanted to kiss you other places, and what's left of your suit is
still too confining for that...and I know I have seen you mostly naked
before, but never with this particular goal in mind..."  She nodded
encouragingly, hopefully, at him, as he stood there looking down at
her, an expression of both consternation and delight on his face.
"Please...?"  She murmured softly, putting as much promise and
anticipation into that one word as she possibly could.

Mulder didn't speak, merely took hold of his shirt with both hands and
pulled it apart, buttons flying in both directions.  He flipped it
back over his shoulders and down his arms, then it was on the floor.
He kicked his shoes off, and the socks followed right behind.  Next,
he undid the top button of his pants, unzipped them, and let them drop
to his ankles; he hitched his fingers in the waistband of his knit
boxers, easing them down on top of his pants, then yanking them both
off first one leg, then the other.  Never once did his eyes leave
hers.  Then he straightened up to his full height, arms at his sides.
Scully just sat there, and took her time admiring the view.  Swimming
must be good exercise... she mused, letting her eyes sweep over Mulder
from the ground up--long legs sloped into lean hips, his chest was
defined, but not over developed, with just the right amount of hair.
Speaking of hair, a dark brown mass curled gently around his groin to
frame the top of what the grey lycra leggings had only outlined:  a
rather impressive length of penis and set of testicles.  Well, Mulder,
I've always known you were a handful...

"Turn around?"  She smiled, and made a twirling motion with her hand.
He rolled his eyes, but obliged.  Mulder couldn't see her nod
appreciatively--he had one of the nicest butts she'd ever seen, and
she'd already had the pleasure of running her hand over his broad
back.  "Okay, face me again?"

When she didn't speak right away, he made a slight 'well?' gesture
with his hands, face serious.  She waited just one more moment;
wanting to savor the play of light and shadow along the planes and
curves of her partner's body a little longer, enjoying this new
perspective of desire and attraction.  But it wasn't fair to keep him
waiting.  She didn't want him to think she didn't approve of what she
was seeing; this soon he could be thinking anything--was he what she
expected, what she wanted?  Oh, yes...

"Mulder, if I told you you had a beautiful body, would you hold it
against me...?"   It was an old line, but in this case, a very serious
one.  "Because you do...and I want it near mine..."   She held out her
hands, and he was in front of her with one step.  Scully uncrossed her
legs so he could stand even closer, then hugged his waist, kissing him
on the belly, then both hips.  He buried both hands in her hair,
ruffling it very gently, then it was his turn to pull away.  Mulder
knelt down, then framed her face with his hands.  He looked intensely
into her eyes, asking without words as he dropped his hands to her
knees, pressing them apart.  She gasped softly, his touch was like
fire, and she nodded.  He leaned forward, kissing her fiercely as he
pushed her back against the chair.  His hands reached to push her
skirt up, and she lifted her hips to make it easier for him to reach
her stockings and underwear.  She figured when he slipped them off
her, they went somewhere in the same direction as his clothes had
gone, but she didn't really care.  Mulder moved his mouth to her
chest, then he eased back on his heels to make his face level with her
lap.  He looked up at her just once, and his eyes shone with the
pleasure he wanted to give her.   This was just for her, and Scully's
heart was full from his generosity--she'd felt his own hardening
desire when she'd hugged him, and putting his own satisfaction off for
hers couldn't be easy for him...

Then he bent forward to kiss her tummy, gently swirling his tongue in
her belly button;  his chin rubbed the tender skin just above her
pubic hair and she squirmed with ticklish delight.  He moved to kiss
her there, too, as he began stroking her thighs, easing them open
farther, then tilted his face to gently nip at the outer lips of her
vagina.  It was an exquisitely delightful pain, and she felt herself
grow warm and damp.  Then his mouth and tongue teased her even more,
kissing and tapping every sensitive millimeter of labia and clitoris.
Her blood rushed through her veins, pounding to the beat of  her
passion, and she gripped the arms of the chair.  His tongue dipped
deep inside, tasting her, then suddenly his face was right in front of
hers, mouth reaching to kiss her, and she had the incredible
experience of  savoring Mulder and her own juices in the same breath.
At the same time, one finger glided into her vagina, then another as
far inside as he comfortably could, then just a bit farther; she
thrust her hips against his hand, at his mercy as he brought her
closer and closer to orgasm.  Then he slowly, agonizingly, drew them
out, pressing down as he did so, and Scully moaned through his kiss,
eyes closed as she came against him, unable to focus on anything but
the intense pleasure centered in her groin.  

She felt his hand leave her, her breath slowed, and she opened her
eyes in time to see Mulder licking his fingers; he smiled at her, his
eyelids drooping with self-satisfied sensuality.  He knew that had
been good, and Scully couldn't argue with him--didn't want to.  It had
been a wonderful gift to her, but now it was his turn.  She stood up,
happily shaky, and stripped off the rest of her clothes.   When they
were part of the room's decor, Scully, smiling, held out her hands to
her partner.  He took them, and pulled her to him in a massive hug
that his whole body participated in--arms wrapped around her as far as
they would go, his knees bent slightly and spread apart so her body
would fit in between and he could hold her tightly.  It was the best
hug she'd ever had, full of warmth and emotion, and she sighed softly
against Mulder's chest.  He kissed the top of her head, then bent to
press his mouth to hers.  Mid-kiss, he murmured exactly what she'd
been waiting to hear:  

"Make love with me, Scully...." 

xxx

Well, she can't say I didn't make my intentions fully known... Mulder
mused to himself as he continued kissing his partner on the cheek, her
ear, the tip of her nose, the smooth curve of her neck.  In fact, he
was so busy with lifting her hair so he could reach the back of her
shoulder that he almost missed her whispered response...

"Yes...please...?

He didn't speak...his mouth was still occupied...but he skimmed his
fingers over her back, down to cup her rounded bottom in both hands;
it was smooth and firm and he hoped to add it to his kissing agenda
very soon... His partner suddenly let go of him, and before he had a
chance to wonder...

Aah...he caught his breath, concentration gone, as he felt the effects
of Scully's arms leaving his waist and moving several inches
lower...and to the front.  Fingers tangled themselves in his pubic
hair, and her other hand gently massaged his testicles, all the while
never missing a chance to thoroughly kiss him...Scully was...amazing.
He felt his desire began to harden into an erection, and she slipped
her hand along its length encouragingly.   He took hold of her hair,
pulling it back so her chin tipped upward;  he opened his mouth to
kiss her and she met his tongue with hers for a mid-air French caress.
Her fingers never stopped coaxing his sex right to the edge of his
control, his muscles were trembling and he was dizzy from the thrill
of the chase--

"Not yet," Scully murmured.  "Don't...take me with you..."

Mulder clasped her firmly, fully intending to scoop her up and finish
what they'd started, when a tiny  voice (which had probably been
struggling to be heard for a while now) sounded in his brain.  You
can't take her anywhere yet...what about the safe part of this sex?!
He froze, mid-scoop, and looked down into Scully's breathless, puzzled
expression.  Her hair was a glorious confusion of red-gold, lips full
and pink and half-open to speak.  She's so beautiful.  He began easing
her backwards, in the direction of where he thought he'd dropped his
trousers.

"Mulder?  I meant, you know, take me with you..."

Scully was trying to explain, move with him, and keep up her
stimulating activity in his pelvic area.  So far, her juggling act was
working...it was getting more difficult to remember why he wanted to
reach his pants, but somehow he knew it was important...  "Scully...I
need to get something out of my wallet..." he gasped, as he knelt
down, keeping one arm around her and, finally locating the article of
clothing that may as well have been the Grail at this moment...began
searching in his pockets for the all-important leather billfold.

She'd knelt down beside him, still stroking him, slowly, and he could
tell she was confused, but trusted him that this interruption was
important.  He finally jerked the wallet out of his back pants pocket,
passed it to the hand that was cradling his partner's torso and
rummaged through it in record time with the other.  They better be
here...they better be here...became his mantra, and Mulder had to
resist the temptation to shout 'eureka!' as the small foil packets
tumbled out onto the carpet.  

Scully interrupted his thoughts with an incredible kiss.
"Mulder--thank God, at least one of us was thinking!"

Her eyes shown with admiration at what she saw as the ultimate gesture
of respect for her...and it was.  Never mind that there had been just
barely enough blood left in his brain to generate that vital thought
for protection.  "I want to keep you safe, Scully...always."  He
smiled at her, and she kissed him again, this time on the tip of his
nose.  Then she grinned at him, a naughty gleam in her eye, and she
began to plant a circuitous route of kisses down his chest, stopping
only to tease his nipples with her tongue.   The sensation of her soft
breasts sliding down his torso as she continued kissing him was too
much to bear, and he was only sorry that he couldn't return the favor
to her right at the same moment.  He made good use of his time and his
hands to tear open the condom package, though when Scully's mouth
reached the base of his penis and she bared her teeth to carefully nip
at where it curved away from his body, he almost lost it--and the
Trojan.  

"Here, Mulder..."  Scully must've seen him in trouble, and as usual,
was there to rescue him. Though my having trouble in the first place
is her fault!  Mulder thought as she carefully took the condom out of
his hand, and reached to ease the it over his still swollen member.  

"...let me...I am a doctor, and latex is in my area of expertise..."
She flicked a glance at him, a wicked gleam in her eyes.  

He couldn't help it, he began to laugh, and he was still laughing when
she finished, and then leaned forward to throw her arms around his
neck and fall over backwards, pulling him with her.  Her breasts were
practically under his nose, and he couldn't resist nuzzling first one,
then the other, before sucking them gently.  She gasped, and spread
her legs, her hands grasping at his hips to guide him toward her.  He
felt her nails dig in, and her urgency matched his own.  Mulder
stroked her vagina briefly; his fingers slipped through her ready
dampness, and he lifted her up from the small of her back to meet the
first thrust of his penis, wanting just the perfect angle.  He entered
slowly; it was a tight fit, and though the sensation was deliriously
wonderful to him, he did not want to cause his partner any discomfort
or pain.

He tilted his head down to kiss her, then asked, even as he eased up
on his hands to support his next thrust, "Scully, am I hurting
you...?"

She wrapped her legs and arms around his body, using her feet to push
him closer.  "Not nearly enough..."

Her answer cleared away the last bit of hesitation Mulder might have
been entertaining, and he let his movements get wilder, rocking back
and forth, thrusting in and easing out of her.   She grabbed his hair
with both hands, and made him look into her eyes; they mesmerized him
and he couldn't look away, didn't want to.  At the height of their
passion, everything seemed to stop just for one breath, and Mulder
could see the room as if he were above it:  he saw the city lights
filtering in the window, their illumination just reaching where he and
Scully lay on the floor, their bodies mostly in shadow.  He saw them
in the midst of an act of love, and he wanted to make sure she knew
that was how he meant it, how important she was to him.  Mulder had no
words, and he put his soul into his own eyes, pleading silently with
her to read everything he felt about her in them.  Scully seemed to
understand, mouthing the words, 'I love you, Mulder...' even as she
moaned with pleasure.

He felt his orgasm reach just that moment where you hovered tortuously
on the brink, then spilled over, the  rhythm of his blood singing with
release and joy... He whispered in his partner's ear, "I love you,
too..."

xxx
Room 6226, MGM Grand Hotel 
6:24 a.m.


Agent Dana Scully slowly opened her eyes, awake, but not fully
cognizant of her immediate surroundings.  She blinked once, and
concentrated--she knew she was in her bed in the hotel in Las Vegas,
she remembered the case she and Mulder were on, and she was exactly
sure of the previous night's (and morning's) activities.  She
stretched a bit, and smiled as the delightful montage of memories
drifted through her mind.  But still, something was slightly...off,
and part of it was that she couldn't feel her partner's arms around
her any more.  They'd eventually moved into her bed and fallen asleep
that way, and somehow even in her dreams she could feel his loving,
protecting embrace.  Where was Mulder?  She rolled over, and came face
to face with the missing agent.  He was lying right next to her, wide
awake, head up and supported by his left hand; the other arm lay
slightly in front of him, but nowhere near her.  She was slightly
startled; he'd been so quiet and still that she'd thought he must've
gotten up, but instead he was staring at her, a rather worried look in
his eyes.  Of all the expressions that Scully might have guessed
Mulder to have, in light of recent events, 'worry' wasn't one of them.
She sat up a bit, and reached over to gently stroke his cheek, feeling
the tension in the muscles along his jaw.

"Mulder, what's wrong?"  She was mystified at this sudden change of
attitude, and concerned.  "Tell me?"

He sighed heavily.  "What happens when we go back to Washington,
Scully?"

"We'll have to wear warmer clothes?"  

He just stared at her.  

Okay, our sense of humor isn't up yet.  "I'm sorry.  Could you narrow
it down a little for me?  It's very early, and it was quite a
night...."  She smiled knowingly, but he ignored that gesture, too.

"Everything's changed with us.  There's so many issues we didn't talk
about--the repercussions from Skinner alone, never mind the OPC, and
if they transfer you, or me--"

I thought we'd covered this last night, right before, but  I guess not
enough, especially now that it's right after.  "Mulder."  Scully
interrupted in a very firm voice.  "That's enough.  You are, to quote
my mother, 'just borrowing trouble.'"  She scooted back until she was
sitting upright with the headboard for support.  Mulder sat up, too,
cross-legged, and close enough for her to put a hand on his knee,
which she did.  A tingle went through her, and it was so nice to still
feel that spark as she touched her partner's body, though her mind was
now focused on resolving his fears.   "Those are all legitimate
questions, but quite frankly, if you think about it, our relationship
is not going to change that much."  Mulder looked at her like she'd
lost her mind, and Scully tried to explain.  "Yes, I know sex is a big
step, but we're hardly casual acquaintances, and neither one of us
made this decision lightly.  It may have looked like we hurried into
it, but we've actually been building the foundation for this for quite
a while.  When two people work out a relationship, they consider all
the things we've been dealing with already--likes, dislikes,
differences of opinion, emotions and so on.  Why do the best
relationships work?  Because the couple were friends first--and we've
not only been friends, but partners.  I know it will take some extra
effort--there are FBI regulations that we can't change--but no one
pays much attention to us, Mulder--just to our work.  Now that it's
'personal' could you get any more protective of me?  I doubt it.  If
someone finds out about our relationship, could they get to you
through me?  Or to me because of you?  That's already been tried, and
I came back to you, and you returned to me."  Scully shook her head.
"No, Mulder.  There's nothing new to worry about, unless you're using
all this to tell me that you regret last night, and want to just be
working partners, and no more...?"  She held her breath at this last
revelation; she hadn't even considered it earlier, but it was
possible...

This time it was Mulder who shook his head, smiling tenderly down at
her.  "No hidden agenda, Scully.  Just some angst over the future.  I
don't mean to be pessimistic, but there's been a distinct trend in my
life towards 'loving' and 'losing.'"  The smile turned a little sad.

Scully leaned forward to kiss her partner, no words could bring her
close enough to the understanding and sympathy she felt for him at
that moment.  Finally breaking the kiss, she had to say it, too, just
so there was no confusion.  "I told you before, Mulder, I love you.
You will not lose me by my choice.  You've taught me that no matter
what, you carry on--you back up, change, take a different angle, but
you carry on. Whatever comes up, we'll work it out.  I like this new
aspect to 'us,' and I want to take very good care of it--and I expect
you to do your part."  She raised her eyebrows as if to say 'well?'
and Mulder didn't disappoint her.

He nodded, his eyes very bright, and spoke very softly, but with the
strength of her convictions.  "I will."  

She grinned, and held out her arms.  "Come on, it's still too early to
get up.  Let's go back to sleep until at least a decadent seven am."
Mulder grinned back and lay down next to her, letting her hug him
close.  She planted a kiss on the top of his head, then lay her cheek
against his hair and closed her eyes.  She felt him relax, and she
dozed off to the cadence of his breathing, steady and slow.

xxx

Las Vegas Police Station
August 23, 9:21 a.m.


Special Agent Fox Mulder deftly backed the rental car into a free
space fairly close to the front doors of the Vegas police station, put
it into park, and turned the key off.  He sat for a moment, just the
slightest hint of a smile on his face, and then turned to look at his
partner, who was seated next to him in the car and had the same smile
touching her beautiful features.  They'd woken up together, taken a
shower together, then after getting ready, had gone downstairs to
breakfast together.  It had been a really nice morning, after a really
nice night.  In the light of day, it was officially, professionally,
back to work, and Mulder knew that they would continue their usual
methods of handling the X files cases that came their way.  No one
would be able to guess what changes had occurred; he (and Scully)
would protect their newfound emotional relationship and each other
with the usual ferocity.  But he also knew that this sitting and
smiling to himself every now and then, would probably be a regular,
albeit private, event.  It made the work just that little bit easier.

"Mulder?  Are we getting out of the car?  Or are they bringing Mr.
O'Malley out here?"  Scully interrupted his reverie with gentle
sarcasm.

"Not unless you can do those medical exams in the back seat."  He
returned dryly, as he unbuckled his seat belt and opened his door.  He
got out of the car, catching only half of her reply as he shut the
door behind him.  

"Sure, just get me--"

As he walked around the car and stepped up onto the sidewalk, Scully
opened her door, slipping out of the car and moving to stand next to
him.  "What was that, Scully?"  He glanced down at her as they
starting walking towards the station, a teasing glint in his eye.

She shook her head.  "Never mind.  Let's just get started, Detective
Wagner is expecting us at nine thirty, and I hope everything's in
order to transport Mr. O'Malley to the hospital so I can finish those
tests."

They walked up to the front door of  the police station, Mulder held
the door open for her, and his other hand touched her lightly on the
shoulder (he couldn't help himself, and besides he should just act
naturally, right?) as she stepped in ahead of him.  Scully turned
around and favored him with one of her dazzling smiles that only he
could see as they went inside the building.  Right, he thought,
pleased.  The agents walked straight up to the front desk; it was the
same officer as the other day, but he reintroduced himself and Scully,
and they perfunctorily flashed their badges.  The sergeant nodded his
thanks, and reached for his phone to call in their arrival to Andy
Wagner.  They accepted their visitor tags, and headed for the
detective's office.  Mulder figured they'd probably run into him
somewhere along their route.  Sure enough, halfway there, Scully
spotted him and waved at the other man as he came toward them down the
hall.    

"Good morning, Agent Scully.  Mulder."  The detective nodded
pleasantly at both of them.  "You're a bit early, so we haven't had a
chance to bring up O'Malley, yet.  You want to wait up here, or come
down to lock-up with me?"

Mulder shrugged, and glanced at Scully, who nodded.  "We'll go along."


"Suit yourselves."  Wagner responded, and motioned for them to follow
as he turned around and headed back the way he'd come.  

"Anything new since we were last here, Detective Wagner?"  Scully
inquired.

"If you mean, has O'Malley changed his spacemen story, and made a full
confession--no such luck.  And I don't see how humoring him with all
these tests is going to serve justice any better."

"Then humor us, Detective Wagner, and anything we find out in the
course of our investigation, we'll be happy to share with you."
Mulder was used to having his methods questioned, he fielded the
detective's obvious protest over what he considered a waste of time
with practiced ease, and wasn't even offended.  Scully hadn't
commented either, she probably didn't consider arguing with Wagner an
efficient use of her time and energy.  

"Whatever.  Thanks, I guess."  The detective continued leading the way
down the stairs, the FBI agents following right behind.

Guess he can't be bothered to argue with us, either,  Mulder mused to
himself as they reached the basement level of the police station, set
up for use as temporary prisoner detainment, and for those
perpetrators who had a busy investigation schedule, like Shaun Patrick
O'Malley.  There was a good sized room at the bottom of the steps,
crowded with file cabinets, a couple of desks, security camera
monitors, all surrounded by a tall counter that was meant to give a
sense of significance to the legal proceedings that were going on
around it.  There were two officers on duty, one at the desk and the
other watching the monitors.  The one at the desk looked up at their
approach, and grinned.

Wagner grinned back.  "Hey, O'Reilly--keeping' the halls of justice
safe for our citizens?"

"If I was, you'd be in there."  The other man, older than Wagner,
cheerfully insulted the detective and gestured towards the solid metal
door on the opposite side of the room.  Mulder ignored the cop
by-play, and instead considered the door O'Reilly had pointed at.  

"That's one hell of a door."  He commented aloud.

"It's new--best security access the LVPD could afford.  It's got--"
O'Reilly remarked proudly.

"Well, let's show him how it works, O'Reilly, instead of talking his
ear off.  These are the FBI agents I told you were coming to take
O'Malley into custody for the day."  The detective interrupted what
Mulder figured was probably a well-worn spiel with the other police
officer.  

Scully chimed in.  "Yes, Officer O'Reilly, we're here to pick up Shaun
Patrick O'Malley."  

"You're gonna have to wake him up."  The cop watching the monitors
didn't turn around, but added his observation over his shoulder.  "He
hasn't moved since I got back from the john half an hour ago,
breakfast is still sitting there."

Mulder's instinct for trouble started to buzz, quietly.  "Hasn't
moved?"

"Yeah, he's sleeping in this morning.  Not surprised, the night duty
said he was awake and pacing his cell 'til four a.m."  The monitor
watcher responded to his question.

Scully frowned at him.  "Did anyone go check on him?"

"I was just about to, but since you guys are at least twenty minutes
early--"  

Wagner interrupted O'Reilly's defensive explanation.  "They were only
five minutes early, and by the time we got down here, it would have
been past nine thirty."

'But it's nine fifteen," the cop glanced down at his watch, then held
it out to show them.  Mulder leaned forward to see better;  sure
enough, his wristwatch read '9:16'  

"I don't care about the time, Detective Wagner.  I think we really
need to get in there and check on O'Malley."  He strode over to the
security door, and he could tell Scully was right behind him.  He
reached out to touch the thick steel handle; since there were no
obvious buttons or switches on the door itself, he assumed that
O'Reilly performed whatever necessary actions to open it from behind
his desk.  Mulder glanced over his shoulder.  "Open this door, Officer
O'Reilly, please."  He was polite but firm.  

"But what's the problem?"  O'Reilly sounded annoyed at what he was
starting to see what could be trouble for him.  

"Just open the door, man."  This time it was Detective Wagner who
spoke, and he hadn't bothered to even to try to sound polite.  

The door suddenly buzzed and loosened under his grip, and he didn't
waste time in pulling it open and hurrying through.  From his earlier
look at the monitors (which had planted their images into his
photographic memory) he knew exactly where O'Malley's cell was
located.  Mulder heard steps behind him; he assumed it was the
detective on his way to join him and Scully, who was close behind his
left shoulder.  Her presence, as always, was reassuring, and he was
glad she was there, as his instinct for trouble was clanging loudly
now.  He ignored the uproar their swift passage was causing among the
other prisoners, finally coming to a halt just outside O'Malley's
cell.  It looked like the short Irishman was curled up on his bunk,
sound asleep, but Mulder could tell something wasn't right.  Wagner
shouldered him aside, keys jangling in his hand as he reached to
unlock the door.  The second it swung open Mulder was inside, the
others right at his heels.  He was at the edge of the narrow bunk
instantly, and he reached down to touch O'Malley on the shoulder.  

"Damn."  He whispered explosively, and took hold of the blanket,
sweeping it off in one quick motion.  He heard Scully gasp and Wagner
swear 'Shit!' in the same tone Mulder had just used, it was quiet but
effective--none of them wanted the other cells' members to hear about
this:  there was no one under the blanket.  Shaun Patrick O'Malley was
no longer a member of the Las Vegas jail community.  

Wagner swung around and stomped out, headed to report the missing
prisoner and start a search, probably.  What good it would do, Mulder
wasn't sure, O'Malley had at least several minutes' head start.
Scully promptly began pushing aside the top blanket and ruffling
through the rest of the bed covers that had been used to make
O'Malley's sleeping "body."  Mulder sighed, and turned slowly around,
scanning the rest of the cell.  How the hell did he get out of here?
No windows, the only ways out are past a multitude of law enforcement
officers, and in broad daylight....  

"Mulder, how did he escape?"  Scully broke into his thoughts, voicing
the same question that had been going through his mind.  "The cell
door was locked, there's that security door, the cameras and monitors,
the officers were on duty, and even if he got past all that, there's a
building full of police just above us."  

Mulder turned to look at his partner, who was standing there with a
very annoyed look on her face.  "He had help from Siegfried and Roy?"
the agent offered absently, as he put his full concentration on the
recent happenings and filed through what had been said and done by all
the parties involved.  Something was starting to click, and Mulder
reshuffled the pieces, trying to put some kind of sensible order to
them.  Security cameras--check the tapes.  We were on time, in fact a
little late down here--O'Reilly said we were early.  His was watch
wrong.  It had stopped.  He...lost time....  "I've got an idea,
Scully, but you're not gonna like it."  He looked at her, eyebrows up.
She stared at him for a long moment, then began to shake her head.  

"No, Mulder.  No way."

"I told you, you weren't going to like it."   

"Are you trying to tell me that O'Malley's gambling, alien friends
came back to pick him up?"  Scully was her usual incredulous self.

"Have you thought of any other way that he could have gotten out of
here, for all the reasons you just stated not a minute ago?"

"We just found him missing, Mulder.  He could have been falsely
released, someone from one of the casinos could have had him
kidnapped, and they're using questionable methods to get his cheating
secrets out of him, he could've been taken to the hospital already,
and he's there waiting for us right now."

Mulder shook his head.  "If he'd been falsely released, O'Reilly and
the other cop would've known, because they were watching an empty
cell.  Mistakes can happen, but they both thought he was still in
there.  If the hotel was going to kidnap and question him, why turn
him to the police in the first place?  True, this is just a
preliminary theory, but I know when I ask O'Reilly about it further,
I'll bet he can't remember what he was doing when his co-worker went
to the restroom--and I can't wait to look at the camera tapes for that
time."

"So why would these aliens want him back now?"

Mulder gestured with his hands.  "Why do they ever want anyone they
abduct?  If we understood that question, we could probably head off
most of the abductions.  Maybe he didn't keep up his end of the
bargain by getting caught, and they're afraid he'll give away their
secrets, too."  

"I think you're right, Mulder--"

"You do?!'

Scully finished her statement as she turned to walk away from him.
"--the answer to a lot of these questions is on those tapes.  Let's go
look."  She motioned for him to come with her.  

Mulder looked crestfallen.  "I knew you gave in too easily!"  He
sighed and followed his partner out of the cell and back to the
lock-up office.  It was in the midst of controlled chaos; more
officers had come downstairs and they were all yelling for one reason
or another.  Mulder disregarded most of it, and made a beeline for
O'Reilly and Wagner, the center of the hurricane.

"Excuse me, Detective O'Reilly?  Agent Scully and I would like to view
the security monitor tapes for the half an hour before we arrived."
He stepped in front of both of them, his physical presence demanding
attention.  With half an eye he did notice that the other cop who was
always watching the monitors, hadn't let any of the flurry of activity
dissuade him from his assignment.  Except he said he'd gone to the
bathroom, which means if O'Reilly was distracted, then the tapes were
possibly unobserved for at least a few minutes.  

"You and me, both."  Wagner responded, sounding the very annoyed cop
that he was.  "Come on O'Reilly, stop making excuses--no one's accused
you of anything--yet--and back up that tape so we can all take a
look."

The other officer sighed angrily, and turned away to fiddle with one
of the monitors.  Mulder crowded in with Wagner and O'Reilly, though
he drew Scully over in front of him so she could see easily.  And I
get to have her closer to me, for all the right reasons.  She pressed
a bit nearer to him than necessary, but he didn't pull away, and he
was pleased to see that they were on the same personal wavelength.  

"Okay--here's the time down in the corner--"  O'Reilly pointed to the
lower left of the screen.  "It's 8:58 this morning.  See, there he
is."  

"Okay, let it run a little--"

O'Reilly reached to fast forward the tape, and both Wagner and Scully
gestured for him not too, which started a fresh onslaught of
self-defensive remarks by O'Reilly, which both Wagner and Scully got
caught up into responding to. But before he stopped fast forwarding,
some of the tape fluttered quickly by, Mulder's eyes fastened securely
on the flashing black and white images.  Something blipped oddly, just
in his line of sight.  "There." He broke into his partner's and
Wagner's debate with O'Reilly.  "Go back a bit.  Then slow it down."

His tone was so adamant that O'Reilly didn't even protest, just did as
he was told.  

"Mulder, did you see something?"  Scully asked curiously.

"Maybe."  He didn't look at her, but watched the tape.  "Stop.  Back
up, yes, there.  Now freeze it, can you?"


"Sure, these things are pretty sophisticated.  I can even enhance the
image right here."

"Good.  Do it."  Mulder ordered.  He suddenly pointed to the screen.
"That's it--focus a little better?"  He squinted, and it made him
regret leaving his glasses at home.  Scully leaned in so she could
look more closely.  On the screen was what looked like some numbers
and letters.  

"Is it some kind of tape marking system?"  His partner asked, glancing
up at the police officers.  Now Wagner and O'Reilly canted forward, to
better see the monitor screen.  They both frowned.

"No, it's not identified that way--they're not written right."
O'Reilly shook his head.  "I'm not sure what that is.  Here, I'll make
it a little bigger." He tinkered with a couple more knobs, and the
brief notation on the screen became slightly enlarged.

Wagner looked up at Mulder.  "Rachel....375?"

Scully nodded agreement.  "That's what it looks like to me.  But what
does it mean, if anything?"

"The woman who helped him?  She couldn't resist leaving a calling
card?"  Wagner ventured.

"But if he had help, why isn't she on the tape?"  Scully protested.
"Could she had altered the tapes from an outside help, through a
computer, maybe?"

Mulder stared at it, not really listening to the possible explanations
that any of the others came up with; there was something very familiar
about that name and number together.  He turned around, hadn't he seen
a map of the state down here, somewhere?   It was on the opposite
wall, and he walked quickly over there.  He found Las Vegas, and
worked his way up the state from that point.  Mulder found what he was
looking for fairly quickly.  "Scully?  I don't think there's much more
we can do here.  Detective Wagner, I don't think you're going to find
Shaun Patrick O'Malley any where around Las Vegas."  He turned around,
to be met by three very surprised faces.  "If you happen to hear
anything, let me know.  I assume you have my card and how to contact
me at the Bureau directly?  With O'Malley gone, this case is no longer
the concern of my division.  Since he's so well known, if he ever did
return here, every casino alarm would go off and he'd be back in jail
before he could place a bet, right?"

"Uh, yeah, but why are you giving up?"  Wagner sounded as confused as
he looked.

"I'm not giving up; I've accepting what I've come to believe as
inevitable.  I suggest that you get O'Malley's picture and statistics
to all the Nevada law departments, maybe you'll hear something."  But
I doubt it will be anything useful.  Mulder added silently.  "Come on,
Scully, let's go."  He gave his partner a telling look, and her
protest died on her lips.  

"Are you even going to give us a hint?"  Wagner asked, annoyed.

"My explanation involves an area that you give no credence to,
Detective Wagner, therefore I'm not going to waste your time, or
mine."  Mulder pronounced as he turned to leave.

"Thank you for your cooperation while we were here, Detective Wagner."
Scully attempted the usual pleasantries--she was so much better at
Bureau policy than he.  

"Yeah, sure."  Wagner was just barely polite.

His partner caught up with him on the stairs, and together they walked
all the way out of the police station in silence.  Once back at their
rental car, he unlocked Scully's door, then walked around to his side
and did the same.  Seated inside, Scully barely let him fasten his
seatbelt before she began her interrogation.

"Okay, Mulder, out with it:  what is 'Rachel 375?'"  Scully crossed
her arms and stared at him.

He couldn't resist just sitting and grinning at her for a moment
before he replied.  "Four months ago, in April of this year, a busload
of Nevada officials, various Hollywood celebrities, the usual
assortment of media and the typical group of curiosity seekers, drove
out to a minor entry in the Nevada highway system to preside over a
renaming and dedication ceremony there.  Route 375, which runs through
the town of Rachel, Nevada, is now known as the 'Extraterrestrial
Highway.'  It's called that because of the very high incidence of UFO
sightings along that stretch of road.  I believe that Shaun Patrick
O'Malley's captors have a sense of humor, and could very well be the
first aliens to exhibit an understanding of that difficult concept of
what makes us laugh.  I think they took him back because he didn't
keep his part of the bargain--they may never return him, but if they
do, he won't remember a thing--and who knows, maybe they'll drop him
somewhere on the ET highway.  Apparently, it wouldn't be the first
time that's happened."  Mulder paused, and looked at Scully
expectantly.  She didn't disappoint him.

"You got all that from 'Rachel 375' on the security tape?  It's a
stretch, Mulder, even for you.  I do remember reading about that
highway renaming ceremony, but I saw it as the simple publicity ploy
that it was.  Silly me, I should have pasted it into the X-files
scrapbook."  Scully spoke wryly.  "I still think it's something else,
like maybe the person who inspected the tape before it was shipped, or
O'Malley's egotistical partner in crime, who just had to sign their
handiwork."  

Mulder started the car up, and checked the mirrors for oncoming
traffic.  Finding a break in the flow of cars, he pulled out, and
headed down the street to catch the expressway back to the MGM Grand
Hotel.  "No matter the reason, Scully, our time is over here.  This
one goes into the files as 'temporarily suspended,' and we go back to
Washington as soon as we can catch a flight.  I'm looking forward to
working with you every day, and spending as many nights with you, as
you'll have me."  He smiled at her, eyes full of promise.  

Scully reached over to gently rub his thigh, and he almost lost
control of the car at her lightning touch.  "Keep that up, and this
rental car is history, and so are we if I wreck it,"  Mulder pointed
out as calmly as he could.

"I just wanted you to know that I agree with you, and I'm looking
forward to trying out your couch."  Scully answered provocatively.

"Scully, for you, the couch isn't good enough--it's straight to my
bedroom!"

They both laughed; Mulder's bed gathered dust waiting for its owner to
use it, but he figured Scully was the best reason he could have to
actually sleep (and other things) in it...  "Do you like satin sheets,
Scully?"  He teased.

"Too slippery..."  Scully observed.

"That's the idea, sweetheart."  Mulder pointed out.

"Oh..."  Scully colored slightly, and her partner chuckled fondly as
he drove onto the highway, hitting the accelerator to speed them both
back to the hotel, to pack for home.

xxx

Lobby, MGM Grand Hotel
9:20 p.m.


Agent Fox Mulder finished signing the final bill from the hotel and
handed it to the clerk on the other side of the counter.  She smiled
at him, then looked down at her computer keyboard.

"I'll be done in just a moment, sir."  She told him in a brisk,
efficient tone of voice, and Mulder nodded.

"Thank you."  He and Scully had a plane to catch; it departed at 11:21
p.m., and he had no intention of being late for it.  His partner was
waiting in pretty much the same spot she'd waited for him to check in
three days ago, guarding their luggage and people-watching.  They'd
gotten back to the hotel and felt obliged to report in to Mr.
Callahan, who had been disappointed, to say the least, that O'Malley
had disappeared.  Mulder had not told him about his 'Rachel 375'
theory (he thought he'd seen Scully breathe a sigh of relief at that
omission), but it hadn't really been necessary  to tell the head of
hotel security that particular point.  The man didn't care how he was
gone, it just mattered that he was on the loose and free to cheat at
someone else's casino--what was bad for one, was bad for all of them.
The next available flight back east had been the redeye, so he and
Scully had amused themselves for the afternoon (he'd even gotten her
to take a swim with him) and had dinner in one of the nicer
restaurants--one that he could not  explain to the expense account
bean counters.  Now it was time to leave, and he was glad when the
clerk finally smiled up at him.  

"That's it, sir.  Thank you very much for staying with us, and please
do come again."

Our first time together was here...  "I think you can count on that,
miss."  Mulder smiled back at her, then turned to look for his
partner.  She was right where he'd left her, but--Mulder's eyes
narrowed suddenly--she wasn't alone.  If anyone was watching, they
would have thought he was in two places at once, instead, Mulder knew
that he was here, and Rocky Hardin was over there talking animatedly
with his partner.  It wasn't that he didn't like Hardin, he didn't
know him well enough to feel any kind of kinship with him, though he'd
been nice enough in the time they'd spoken.  It was just the fact that
it was like looking into a disconcerting mirror, someone who looked
like himself, but was just different enough to be bothersome.  And
though he was indirectly responsible for him and Scully finally
realizing their feelings for each other, Mulder was of the opinion
that Hardin was a little too fond of his partner.  In fact, she was
smiling up at the adult movie actor right now; Mulder frowned, and
headed over to Scully as quickly as he could and not look obvious.  As
he got closer, he had to shake his head at the other man's outfit; no
wonder he was getting numerous second glances, and Scully was letting
her eyes drop a bit every now and then.  She was only human, but he
didn't have to like it.  

Hardin was wearing a long sleeved shirt in a dark red crushed velvet
material, black leather cowboy boots and a pair of black leather pants
that laced up the front.  One more casual glance and Scully could
probably tell him what religion Rocky Hardin was... At least it kept
people from immediately seeing the resemblance between the two of
them.  He wiped the frown from his face, (he hoped) and went to stand
next to his partner, and was proud that he only managed to touch her
shoulder possessively, instead of  putting both arms around her and
pulling her away from the other man.  

"All checked out, Mulder?"  Scully patted his hand on her shoulder
reassuringly, but only he would've known that.  He relaxed enough to
nod at Hardin, who grinned back at him.  

"Guess you're leaving, huh?"  Rocky gestured to the surrounding
luggage.  "It was pretty cool, meeting you two--"  He tilted his head,
and halted in mid-sentence.  He looked from Scully to Mulder, then
leaned over to whisper in Scully's ear.  

Mulder saw her left eyebrow go up abruptly, but she merely nodded at
Hardin as he backed away to look at her.  

The adult movie actor nodded, too.  "Good deal.  Well, I gotta
go--going to have some fun in the casino before tomorrow's publicity
sessions."  He held out his hand to Mulder, who shook it, but the
agent was only interested in finding out what Rocky had said to his
partner.  Move along, boy toy...

"So long, Miss Scully,"  Hardin turned to her and leaned down to kiss
her cheek.  Scully didn't protest, but bestowed a fond smile on the
other man.  

Mulder felt his fists clench reflexively, and Rocky Hardin was very
lucky that with a final wave for both of them, he turned and walked
towards the casino, leather creaking and attracting a small cadre of
fans along the way.

"What did he say to you, Scully?"  Mulder tried to sound casual.

She looked at him thoughtfully.  "He wanted to know if I 'scored.'
Meant in the nicest possible way, of course."

"I'll kill him."  Mulder had never been so pissed.  He turned towards
the casino, hand reaching to pat his gun.  

"Mulder, please, don't make me sorry I told you.  That's just his
vocabulary--I think he's known all along what you mean to me--he knew
when I talked to him about you.  He's glad for us--he just didn't say
'congratulations' the way most people would."  She reached out to take
hold of his arm, squeezing it gently.  "Besides, he's right, in a
way--I have 'scored' with you--I've won the love of the one man I've
been looking for, for a long time.  It's you, Mulder, no one else."

He felt all the anger drain out of him, and he put his hand over hers
on his arm.  Rocky Hardin didn't matter any more.  He looked down at
her, and his eyes said I love you, even as he spoke.  "Let's go home,
Scully."  He bent to pick up their suitcases.  She smiled back, as she
gathered her share of the load.

"Let's go home."  She repeated softly, and was right beside him as
they exited the glass lobby doors, and let the valet motion a taxi
over to them.  Mulder didn't even look over his shoulder as they rode
away, headed for the airport.

xxx

Epilogue
Scully's apartment, address unknown
Washington, D. C..  
September 4, 10:13 p.m.


"Mulder?"  

His partner and lover called out to him from the bathroom, and he
glanced in her direction as he answered.  "Yes?"  He was lying in her
bed, on top of the covers and still mostly dressed in his suit.
Probably not for much longer, though, since Scully was changing into
what she described as 'something that would make Victoria want her
secret..."  He smiled in anticipation.

"I got a very interesting package at the office today--"

"Aren't you putting it on now?"  Mulder interrupted.

"No, I picked this up myself.  This package is from Germany, and
you'll never believe who sent it--"

He frowned in thought.  Who did they know in Germany?  
"Who?"

"Rocky Hardin--you remember him, don't you?"

"How could I forget?"  Mulder rolled his eyes in mild disgust, but it
didn't really bother him to hear the other man's name.  Scully made
him feel so secure and cared for, one porn movie actor who lived in a
far away place couldn't even begin to shake his confidence in her and
himself.  

"Does he really bother you?"  Scully came into the bedroom, and Mulder
forgot to answer, too busy staring at her beautiful body as it was now
encased in sheer gold lace.  "Mulder, does him sending me a package
bother you?"  She repeated her question in another form.

"Uh, no."  Mulder finally found his voice, and answered her honestly.
"He did back in Vegas, but I know he's no threat, and I should
probably thank him for what he did for us."

Scully smiled at him.  "Good, I'm glad to hear you say that--"

Sitting up in bed, he reached for her, but she avoided him skillfully
as she walked by him on the way to her nightstand.  She opened the
bottom drawer, and took out a large, plain brown envelope.  Scully
straightened, still holding the envelope, then sat down beside him in
bed.

"Because he sent me something, and even though it's addressed to me,
and it's for me,  it's really meant for you."

"Me?"  Mulder was genuinely curious.  She nodded, and handed him the
envelope.  He opened it, peering inside before reaching a hand in and
pulling out the contents.  He glanced at Scully, who was looking at
him with a mixture of laughter and anticipation on her face.  He
looked down, then back up at her.  

"He sent me the outfit from that photo shoot at the convention?"
Mulder didn't know what to think as he held up the pair of grey lycra
leggings that he'd worn as Rocky's stand-in.

Scully nodded.  "His note said that he wanted you to have something
that meant good memories to you, and he remembered the look on my face
when I saw you in them..."

"I don't even want to know what the Bureau's mail room x-ray techs
thought of this--"  Mulder shook his head.

"It was addressed to me, it could have been workout clothes,"  Scully
explained quite rationally.

He brightened.  "Yeah, that's as good a justification as any."  He
suddenly smiled slyly at her.  "So, how did you look when you saw me
in them...?"  

Scully leaned forward, very close to his face and whispered, "Why
don't you put them on and find out?"

Mulder swung his legs around to the side of her and got up off the
bed, carrying the leggings with him.  He began unbuckling his belt,
and Scully leaned back on the pillows to watch.  

"Of course for the full effect, there needs to be an adoring crowd,
and lots of cameras..." he announced airily, and just laughed when
Scully cheerfully reached forward and smacked him on the behind.  

"Don't keep your fans waiting..."  She advised him with a smile.

He finished undressing, and after pulling on the leggings executed a
slow turn for her perusal.  "Well?"  

Mulder grinned...somewhere between the happiness, love and
expectation, Scully looked...impressed.