From: Vger Subject: Mythology Story Date sent: Fri, 20 Mar 1998 14:21:59 -0600 From: Vger Date: 3/19/98 Subject: MSR/Mythology Story Title: Birth Right Author: Vger Reply to: Vger@colint.com Rated: NC-17 Spoilers: Season 5 through the Red and the Black, and loosely on movie rumors Summary: A mythology story involving romance between Mulder and Scully in the midst of season five enigmas. Archive: MSR & mythology sites anywhere. DISCLAIMER: The X-files and all related characters, and plot references belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and FOX, Inc. No copyright infringement is intended. I borrowed them for personal amusement having become intrigued with recent movie rumors and potential scenarios between the characters. It has also been maddeningly necessary to keep updating my plot as season 5 has unfolded since it has taken me so long to find time to write this piece to its conclusion. Any small similarity to any upcoming plots from Fox would be an x-file in itself, however, I would suggest reading up on "remote viewing" as employed by our government's intelligence operations should any such trespass possibly occur! BIRTH RIGHT Prologue Bear & Company Publishing Santa Fe, New Mexico 1995 "Greetings, dear friends, we are here. It is our intention to assist you in creating a new vision - a vision that inspires you to live and love on planet Earth. Like a priceless jewel, buried in dark layers of soil and stone, Earth radiates her brilliant beauty into the caverns of space and time. As a value yet to be realized and discovered, she patiently awaits her coronation by her people. She creates you and sustains you, and without her, as you now know yourselves, you could not be. We ask you, as seekers of the great stories, to proclaim an allegiance to Earth. Pledge the transformation of yourselves, which is the journey through light and dark, and honor Earth's momentous role in setting you free. As threads unravel to reveal your celestial heritage, do not become entrapped by a glamour from the heavens, for you too are on a star, reflecting and radiating light to worlds seeking the solutions to their own creations." - The Pleiadians as channeled by Barbara Marciniak, from Earth: The Pleiadian Keys to the Living Library "Who is the visitor on this shimmering, watery orb we call Earth? Look around you, for it is I. I am a descendant of the universe destined to return full circle to my home as I begin to recall my celestial roots." Washington D.C. 11:02 PM The insistent ringing of the telephone brought Special Agent Dana Scully hurrying out of her bathroom as she finished pulling a flannel nightshirt over her head. She mumbled irritably at the phone thinking she should be letting the machine pick it up, except that it was probably her mother calling. She hadn't called Margaret in a couple of weeks now with the hectic pace she and her partner at the FBI had been keeping. Besides, serial killings always depressed her and she was reluctant to call anyone in that state of mind. This time they had spent a fruitless two weeks in Georgia before learning that the "phantom" killer was a local with very earthly means of harming others. They had immediately turned it over to the violent crime section to tie up. It hadn't turned out to be an X-file after all, and their bureau colleagues had naturally ribbed them that it was much too "normal" for the two of them to be working on. Everyone in the FBI knew the X-file division specialized in the macabre and paranormal, by the personal design of her partner, Fox Mulder. In reality the assignment's ending had been a relief since neither she or Mulder could stop thinking about the unexplained phenomenon of the recent UFO contacts and mass burnings at reported abductee sites. Dana snatched the phone out of its cradle and breathlessly answered. "Scully?" queried the familiar voice of her partner. "You sound like you've been running." "Yes, well, in a manner of speaking I was!" She snorted. "What's wrong, Mulder?" "Does a guy have to be calling his favorite partner for a problem always?" He intoned feigned hurt. "Mulder!" she growled humorlessly. It didn't bother her that he was calling her already, but she had learned to expect that some unplanned event was about to follow. "Okay, okay, Scully!" He admitted laughing. "I was hoping you were still up. I wanted to show you something." He listened to her silence a moment, guessing she was gunning for her bed any time now. "Can't it hold off until I see you at the office tomorrow, Mulder?" she sighed. "You dropped me off only 3 hours ago!" "Look, I'm sorry, you're right, but it's important," he pleaded ever so slightly. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Okay, but I'm going to bed immediately after you show me," she conceded. "How close are you?" "Promises, promises, Scully," he teased. "Is outside your door close enough?" Scully carried her phone over to her front door and peered out the peephole. Mulder was standing on the other side with his cell phone and a toothy grin. She hung up the phone decisively, setting it aside as she opened the door. "Is that any way to end a phone conversation, Agent Scully?" He asked with mock indignation. "I think we are going to need to review your bureau manners again. " He stopped to eye her as she closed the door then winked at her. "Flannel. Very sexy." She crossed her arms in front of her and tried to adopt her most intimidating gaze. He smiled regarding her with warm hazel eyes, thinking to himself how much younger she looked with her red hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing her plaid nightshirt and fuzzy socks. "What've you got, Mulder?" She asked pointedly while he shrugged off his coat. Mulder stood head and shoulders taller than she did and at the close proximity she found it annoyingly necessary to strain her neck looking up at him. He turned to her and produced a photo of a half-buried aircraft, lodged in a snowy embankment. What she could make out of it did not lend itself to any familiar make of ship or plane, however, she reasoned that much of it still lay below the surface of the terrain. "What am I looking at?" She asked handing it back to him with a frown. "Do you recognize it?" He asked watching her face intently as he ran a hand through his dark hair. "No, should I?" She replied drawing a smile from him. "Possibly," he nodded. "My source indicates that this craft was stumbled onto by a couple of Canadian geologists during a recent seismic expedition. As you may know, there has been an increase in earth tremors in the Yukon of late, and they theorized that perhaps this was just unearthed by the largest quake. When they tried to match it with potential missing aircraft they drew a blank on anything catalogued world wide." "Yes, but that could mean that they have seen too little data yet, based on how much is still underground, or its possibly a military make not released to the private sector to date," she surmised taking the photo from him again. "You'll have to admit that there isn't much to go on from this photo." "Yes, but the kicker is that my informant claims that this craft bears some markings, which you can't see in the photo," he told with animation. "Markings which indicate a relationship with our mysterious faceless men - the same faceless men you described at the mass burning you witnessed." Scully made a face at him. "Come on, Mulder!" She spat. "Who gave you this lead?" She eyed him sternly, as he ran his hands through his hair again. "I know it's a stretch, Scully, " he agreed. "I got this tip from an anonymous envelope that was left under my door when I got in. I'm not saying that it's the real thing, but someone out there wanted me to know about this. Someone intended that I check it out, and I think we both know that the truth may actually be much more bizarre than a link with a so-called alien." Scully stared at him a moment, pondering his words before turning to sink into a nearby chair. Mulder held his breath a second settling himself onto the floor beside her. He knew her so well by now; he could've predicted this entire conversation. What he loved about her was that she had followed his logic flawlessly. "So you intend to go there yourself to chase the men or whomever behind this," she concluded. He smiled nodding slowly. "Yes, but I need you to stall Skinner a couple of days until I can get there and back." Scully visualized their supervisor, imagining him tolerantly listening to yet another spotty explanation for Agent Mulder's current absence from her side. God she hated it when Mulder left her to back up his stories! "I'm going with you, Mulder," she informed him coolly. "You'll have to distract Skinner another way." "Scully," Mulder shook his head indulgently, "you're not going to run off to the frozen wilderness of Canada for something we both know might be a dangerous waste of time. Besides, when have we ever gone camping that we didn't have some pretty miserable conditions?" She pushed him aside as she rose to her feet. "You're crazy if you think I'm going to let you go uncovered on this wild goose chase," she emphasized, standing with her hands on her hips. "Anyway, you didn't come over here to keep me up just to tell me you're taking off without me, buddy, so shut up and tell me when we leave!" Mulder started laughing, amused that she was so predictable. He knew he should protest, but Scully was not a fainting flower. She would not take a backseat for safety, and while he cared about her, he also respected her enough to accept her wishes. Scully had chosen a life in the FBI and no amount of affection he held for her should be allowed to interfere with her choice, regardless how much harder it was growing for him each day. "I've arranged things for tomorrow. I want to get over there as early as possible ahead of others that may've intercepted this information. I also understand that the weather is pretty unpredictable. If we don't get in before the snow it could be much longer before this thing can be uncovered. Someone may have it conveniently removed at any time anyway, if it exists at all." They looked at each other steadily, the silence falling between them. Scully thought he looked annoyingly handsome, then turned her eyes away from him. She needed to get out more! Mulder was becoming her whole life these days, and it frightened her. The scary part was that she understood that she had become his as well. Not a healthy arrangement for co-workers she decided. "Well, then maybe we could get some sleep before it's time to get started again," she sighed. "I don't suppose I could borrow a couch tonight, could I?" He ventured cautiously. She studied him a moment before replying. "What about your things?" She asked raising her eyebrows at him. "Out in the car. I'm ready to go," he answered readily. She laughed and shook her head. "Okay, I'll get you some blankets, but if you start snoring I'm not promising I won't shoot you!" "Scully, that's a threat I take to heart!" he grinned, comfortable with the exchange. Scully was definitely his closest friend. For that matter she was his closest anything. Once he had told her that he had his work and her, besides having himself. It was no less true today. He watched her disappear in search of the bedding, thinking they should just drop this ritual. He didn't even bother trying to give reasons anymore as to why he didn't want to make the extra trip back to his own apartment, and he knew where the blankets were if he wanted to get them himself. Scully would deposit them in a heap on the couch along with a pillow and wish him goodnight, padding off to her bedroom. Tomorrow he would make the coffee while she showered and wait for his turn in the bathroom. It was a familiar routine, and as he thought about it he couldn't quite recall when they had dispensed with some of the usual boundaries. When was it that they had exchanged apartment keys anyway? When had she started packing their things at those nameless hotels after those god-awful cases, invading his life like no other woman since his mother? He sighed and shrugged to himself. It really didn't matter. It was comfortable and he had no intention of changing things. Scully returned with his bedding and slipped away to her room. She, too, had been pondering the familiarity she shared with her partner. It was comforting to be "family" she reasoned, although her real family would probably have a few words about her choice of companions. She laughed quietly as she crawled into her bed and tried to imagine her older brother, Bill, stopping by for a visit. It was unfortunate that he was so disapproving of Mulder. It would almost be worth seeing the look on his face should a sleepy Mulder answer her door! She smiled again and closed her eyes, pushing the thoughts of tomorrow's snowy trip far from her. D.C. Area 11:30 PM The heavy-set man barely acknowledged his visitor who had just been shown into the poolroom by a manservant. He sat quietly in the hot tub contemplating the swirling water as the man approached him slowly with unease. When the younger man stopped near the tub he paused before clearly his throat audibly. Was he just going to be ignored, he wondered? Finally the host shifted in the water, and turned an uncaring gaze on him. "Was it delivered?" He asked in a monotone, his face devoid of expression. The younger man nodded slowly. "It was delivered and received as planned," he replied trying to guess his current standing with his employer. The heavy man remained impassive, however, continuing his steady gaze. "And did it have the desired effect?" He asked studying the messenger's reaction. "It appears so. Mulder is consulting his partner as we speak, no doubt arranging his trip." There was a silence following this answer, causing the visitor to shift uncomfortably. When would he be brought into the details of this plan further? "I will let our associates know of this outcome," stated the solemn man as he moved slightly in the tub. "That is all then. You will await further instructions." For a moment the onlooker hesitated as if he might question this directive, but noting the older man's raised eyebrow he reconsidered the challenge. He allowed his face to harden, but said nothing, turning abruptly to go. He could feel that cold stare following him to the door yet did not look back. It would be dangerous to appear affected, so he chose instead to keep walking. The large man waited until he could be sure that his recruit was safely gone before reaching for the phone on the nearby deck. He dialed without apparent haste, his face remaining as unreadable as before. When he heard the intended party he spoke. "It's done," he reported flatly, then waited. "Then you should make the necessary arrangements for the interception while I finish my portion here." He listened for another moment before hanging up. Reaching for his bathrobe he heaved himself up and out of the water, wrapping himself comfortably once he had exited the water. Unruffled by the appearance of yet another gentleman, the large man poured himself a glass of the wine that awaited him on the nearby table. He turned to his new companion and raised his glass slightly. "Our visitor tonight must be taken care of. I trust you will see to this properly." The new man tipped his head silently and exited fluidly from the poolroom. Sipping his wine the big man stared off into space as he imagined the sound of the man in question dying. He was satisfied with the smooth execution of his plan thus far. Canadian Northwest Territory / Day Two 3:20 PM The helicopter touched down on a small clearing in the mountain range, high above the frigid waters of the river in the distance. >From his window Mulder scanned the rugged, snowy terrain of the hillside, trying to determine the approximate location of their target, while Scully peered out at the cold environment skeptically. The man in the pilot's seat shifted uncomfortably shooting her a furtive look, which added to her sense of foreboding. Mulder had used agency connections to seek out prospective guides, and this man had been identified as one of the best local guides for the area. While he had checked out well, Scully had sensed his tension around them from the beginning. She wondered if someone had gotten to him before they had connected for the flight. "This is it," the pilot named Brent told her. "I hope you guys are prepared for this weather. It's a helluva time to be chasing wildlife photos." Mulder leaned forward and smiled at him. Internally he felt great impatience having been delayed until late afternoon for their arrival. It would be of no use to hike to the site tonight and attempt a search. Another day was going to be lost. "Yes, well you have to come to their habitat in the appropriate season if you want to get realistic shots," he explained innocently, concealing his true feelings well. The pilot studied him as if he were an idiot then shook his head. "What? You guys trying to get these for National Geographic or something?" He questioned as he undid his harness. "If we're lucky, who knows?" Scully chimed in reaching for her gear. The pilot grunted and raised the hood of his parka. The two FBI agents climbed out of their seats and set about making camp with the help of their guide. Mulder instructed Scully that they would share a tent as they started working to erect one. She took this to mean that he shared some of her concern about their companion also, so she agreed with him readily. Under other circumstances, there might be some humorous banter between them about it, but given the harsh environment around them, and their current dependence on this guide, they found themselves grimly setting about their work to prepare for the oncoming night. Scully finally allowed herself to relax a bit once the camp was set and Brent suggested they all seek their own shelter for the night. She had crawled into the tent where Mulder had started their camping heater, and perused their food supply for the evening. Mulder followed her in and busied himself with adjusting the lantern before seating himself beside her. For a moment he held her gaze without words. "So Brent may be a liability, hmm?" He quietly asked her at last. She smiled at him, tossing him a bagged sandwich. "And I thought you just wanted to get me alone in your tent!" She shot back sarcastically. He laughed, opening the sandwich. "That too!" He began eating his food, stopping to gesture at her with his sandwich as he chewed. "I don't know what the locals would've been privy to. You never know who's leaked out what." "He certainly seems paranoid, not to mention being a pirate!" Scully remarked dryly. "He's robbing us for this trip." "Well, a guy's gotta live, Scully," replied Mulder mocking indignation. "If there's a craft up there, I doubt we're the first to be looking for it. The question will be what's waiting for us." Scully nodded thoughtfully, hesitating before she spoke again. "You know this may be another wild goose chase we're on, meant to further the deception they seem to want to feed us," she warned him. "I've been thinking that another possibility may be that this is a trap, Mulder. We're out here totally exposed if someone intends to harm us." "I've thought about that," he answered grimly. "I've already tried the cell phone, but I'm out of range, as I'm sure you are too." "He certainly seems paranoid, not to mention being a pirate!" Scully remarked dryly. "He's robbing us for this trip." "The helicopter is the only hope to call help if we need it then. Maybe we should've brought Skinner into this more this time," she sighed, picking at her food. Mulder studied her a moment wondering if she was regretful to have come along with him this time. It reminded him of how much harder it was becoming to work together. He was torn inside between his growing fear that she would be harmed, and his hopeless inability to work without her companionship. "I suppose we should take watch shifts," he mused, gesturing for a can of soda. "I'll take the first one. I feel pretty wired." He opened the can and drank deeply. Scully watched him while deciding if she should protest or not. She doubted if she would sleep much herself with the gnawing anxiety that had been growing in her belly. At first she had listened to Mulder's proposed plan with the familiarity of having heard many such itineraries over the years. As this trip had unfolded, however, she began to believe they were being teased out for a more malicious purpose. The information about the proposed spacecraft had fallen into their hands too easily. Granted, the reports of recent seismic activity in the Canadian terrain could explain for this recent geological revelation, however, Scully was unconvinced that this finding would make its way to Mulder so directly. She also knew that while her partner would not be unaware of this, he would still feel compelled to search out the lead and it's ultimate intent. It was unwise to walk into this, and yet she refused to allow him to go after it alone. Scully re- wrapped the remainder of her food and sipped at her drink. "I don't usually retire quite so early myself," she sighed. "I don't suppose you brought a deck of cards. " He smiled shaking his head. "Maybe spin the pop can?" he asked innocently drawing an evil look from her. "I know. It just isn't the same as a bottle is it? Or maybe you never had the pleasure of playing it as a kid, Scully." He threw the mild challenge out without looking at her while he rummaged in his knapsack. She grunted. "Don't goad me, Mulder," she warned playfully, stretching out on her side on a sleeping bag. "You might find that I have a much more interesting childhood than you think!" "I've always heard that about catholic girls, Dana Katherine Scully," he replied with a wicked grin. Scully flung her gloves at him, and he laughed as he dodged her shot. "Now Scully, stop distracting me here. I'm trying to formulate our plan for tomorrow!" Scully rolled her eyes at him as she tried to arrange her bedding more comfortably. "Fine," she said holding up her hands. "Kill that light when you're done, okay?" "What? Did I offend you?" he asked smiling. "No," she grinned. "I don't know what else to do with myself, so I might as well get some rest before it's my turn, okay?" Mulder nodded watching her slide into the sleeping bag enviously. Neither of them heard the footsteps of their pilot as Brent neared their tent, pausing in the cold to listen for a moment, before retreating back to his own tent. What little he had overheard had sounded benign enough, but he was unready to let go of the warning he had received about these two. His benefactor had promised him that they were armed and dangerous, not to be trusted at any cost. He didn't see how that little red head posed much threat, but then he doubted that anyone would've feared Clyde's Bonnie, either. He would be glad when tomorrow's work was done. This promised to be a long sleepless night ahead for him, and he had wished the other man could've been convinced to move on them sooner. "Don't worry," the man had said in an well-enunciated tone. "You are valuable to them. They need your help to reach their destination, and we need them to succeed before anything is disclosed. I assure you that you will be compensated well for your trouble." Brent thought about the older man with some disgust. Damned rich guys were always ready to put your ass on the line, and they knew they had you by the balls as they waved their money under your nose. This guy probably never broke a sweat in his entire icy life. Brent sniffed angrily. If everything went right on this deal, he wouldn't be sweating much more himself. One night more and then it was pay dirt. He settled into his bedding after rechecking his rifle, and waited for morning. Day Three 9:00 AM The trip up the mountain's snowy slope was somewhat arduous, however, Brent pressed them on as if unaware of it. Scully was more winded than she cared to admit, silently forcing herself on since Mulder hiked along eagerly beside their guide as if unaffected. She was thinking of hot baths and tropical vistas, as her camera bag bounced heavily around her neck. She wished the next alien aircraft would choose to turn up in some exotic vacation area. The hell of it was that after trudging through these conditions she was could only expect to find either nothing or some unpleasant reception. She was hard pressed to say that the rousing campfire breakfast that Brent had helped supply this morning was adequate to offset this predictable outcome. She watched him periodically marking their trek with fluorescent red streamers atop metal rods. Had there not been a gradual thickening of trees she would have found this behavior unnecessary. A quick glance over her shoulder told her that the unfamiliar terrain had quickly blended together as they made a curving journey upward. Even if she followed the slope downward at this point she might never find the exact location of the base camp. The thought sent another tremor of apprehension through her. Mulder felt invigorated as his lungs refilled with the cold air despite his usual disdain for the winter. He looked around the beautiful landscape trying to remain mindful of the peacefulness of this moment. He too expected disappointment or danger, and his restless night had not produced any dazzling scenarios should the latter be the case. Perhaps he should've risked taking Brent into his confidence since their arrival, possibly constructing an escape plan if needed. He still felt uneasy about him, though, and decided it was wiser that he and Scully roll with the events as they unfolded. He had purposely asked Brent to take them within the proximity of the ship's estimated location without actually exposing the site completely to his view. Once they were able to set up the warming tent he expected that he and Scully would have freedom to wander from their guide's watchful eyes. They arrived at their intended destination shortly, Brent helping them to erect the temporary shelter with a heater, before pausing to study the sky intently. All three of them could detect the slight darkening in the distant eastern sky. Brent pointed to the sky shaking his head slowly. "I was afraid of the snow rolling in," he told them. "You're going to have to get your pictures early today, and get out of here, before we get buried." "How long do we have, do you think?" Mulder asked, adjusting his ski glasses. Even in the gray morning light the intense whiteness was hard on his eyes. Brent frowned as he thought about the question before answering. "I think you'd better plan on working up here for another couple of hours or so before starting back." Brent rubbed the back of his neck half-expecting some argument, but Mulder nodded thoughtfully. "It doesn't allow much time to the award winning shots," he commented. "What are the chances of flying out and coming back to camp after the snow breaks?" In the back of his mind he was recalling the die-hard photographers who lived in their intended environs for months looking for those hard to get shots. He wondered how spotty his cover appeared to Brent just now. "If you like, for the right price." Brent smiled thinly. In that moment Scully decided she didn't like him at all. "You'll get your money," she responded dryly before glancing at Mulder in warning. "Good," he shrugged. "I think I'll hike back to the bird and check her out, then. You saw the trail marks but here's a flare gun if you somehow get off track coming back." He eyed them carefully, as he thumbed a hand back at their pathway. "When the wind picks up there may not be much left of our footprints later." "You're not coming back?" Scully asked cautiously. She could feel Mulder assessing the same thing. "No. I'll wait for you at the camp, and start breaking us down when it's time to go. You two use your two hours and then get your asses back to camp. I won't wait for you on account of the snow. If it looks like I need you to come sooner I'll send up a flare myself." Brent turned to go abruptly, then paused as if aware of his two companions staring at him suspiciously. "Don't worry," he said laughing. "I'm not going to leave you up here without getting the rest of my damn money unless you fuck with me about leaving before the snow!" Neither Mulder nor Scully spoke as they watched Brent start down the trail. After a moment Mulder placed a guiding hand on Scully's back herding her into the tent. "Probably not good," he said quietly. She nodded furrowing her brow. "Well, at least we have a flare gun, I suppose," she countered flatly. He began to laugh. "Do you suppose they'll see it all the way back at Washington, and get word to Skinner?" "Yeah, about the time this heater runs out of fuel, and we're sitting here like coyote bait," she smirked. "Or worse," he added under his breath. "Well, let's conserve the fuel and take a look around before we head out after him. We'll tell him that we got spooked by a mountain lion!" Scully raised her eyebrows and got to her feet. "The sooner the better as far as I'm concerned," she agreed, pulling the tent flap back and exiting. Mulder and Scully began searching the perimeter of the shelter carefully keeping their directions marked, while Mulder used his compass to move them towards the coordinates he believed to be their goal. Systematically they searched the coordinates, returning to the warming tent for short reprieves before continuing again in the cold. After more than an hour's fruitless search they had decided to return to the shelter when the not too distant sound of the helicopter's engine echoed through the quiet terrain. The pair of agents stood holding their breath straining to tell if the sound was travelling away from them. At first it appeared that the engine had fired up but had remained stationary, indicating that Brent might be checking on things as he had described. To their dismay, however, the helicopter began to rise out of the tree line, until their could see it clearly in the sky to the right of them. Suddenly the air was filled with an ear-splitting explosion. A column of fire spread across the sky while they watched the exploding aircraft in disbelief. They stood wide-eyed as the echo of the boom died away into absolute nothingness. Ten to one, Brent would not be getting his money, Mulder thought grimly feeling Scully grip his arm. The worse case scenario was about to unfold, and he had to find protection immediately. Mulder grabbed Scully's arm tightly, urging her to jog with him away from the shelter and in a different direction than they had come from the base camp. Part of Scully's mind wished to argue his actions but then she also knew that he feared being discovered. Whoever had seen to the helicopter's destruction could be intent on theirs as well, and there was no where to turn. Fluorescent red markers were leading the way to their exact location, not to mention that their tracks in the daylight pointed the way wherever they might seek hiding. There was nowhere to turn. They ran breathlessly against the snow for nearly a half-mile until Mulder spotted a large indentation in the ledge to their right. He had practically dragged his partner inside the hole hoarsely whispering to her to draw her weapon. He strained to hear over their panting breath, imagining he had heard the echo of distant voices. Scully leaned against him with her gun held tightly, the metal still warm from her body beneath her coat. She stood in tension, as time seemed to stretch on into forever. She heard the second boom at the same time Mulder flinched in surprise, guessing this had been their kerosene heater. They waited silently, poised to shoot, watching the first of the large snow flakes begin to fall. The world around them became deathly silent, as if all life had ceased in the falling snow. They could not make out anything, not even the sound of the intruder's retreat, as they waited anxiously. After what seemed to be enough time for their enemies to find them Mulder began to relax. "They should've found us by now," he mused aloud. Scully also moved out of her firing position and nodded. "If they intended to corner us they've had ample opportunity," she agreed. "Unless they prefer to leave us to freeze, of course." Mulder turned his gaze from the entrance of their hiding place and studied her face. "I have matches this trip, Scully," he offered with a crooked grin. "Great! Now if you have an axe or hunting knife we can gathered some green wood for a fire!" She retorted gloomily. "Now who's the cynic?" he teased. She tilted her head and shrugged. "The reality is that if we try to stay in this spot we will die from exposure before we can get help. Our only real hope is to find better shelter." She imparted this information in her Dr. Scully voice causing him to sigh. The chances of finding better shelter were.He looked at the snow, which was falling harder now. Brent had not been lying about that point anyway. "We can't be sure that our friends aren't nearby. We'll just have to take our chances," he decided. "Maybe we can find a cave or something." Scully nodded thinking a cave could not offer them much more help than this ledge, following Mulder out of hiding as he motioned her to do so. Silently, he pointed to head downward and away from their point of arrival, and potential guests. FBI Headquarters 2:00 PM Assistant Director Skinner punched his intercom button with frustration bringing the calm reply of his secretary. "Yes sir?" "Have agents Mulder or Scully reported in yet?" he demanded gruffly. "No, sir, not yet," she answered without emotion. "I want you to hunt down Andrews and Sidney to get on this. Tell them I want them to dig around until they turn up something on those two. They can call me if they have questions," he barked. "Yes, sir, " she replied steadily. Skinner flipped off the intercom button and ran a hand over his balding head. Damn them! When were they going to learn to trust him enough to bring him in on their movements? Any other agents he would've nailed to the wall for such blatant disrespect and insubordination. He grudgingly admitted to himself that he trusted their instincts above all others, but it did not mean that they were invincible. At this moment their C.E.O. felt a pang of uneasiness about their absence. Mulder was like a shooting star that threatened to burn brightly and die, with Scully traveling along in his wake. If their bizarre cases didn't bring them to harm then surely a dark figure in their own government was always waiting in the wings to silence their search for the truth. Skinner shifted his chair around towards the window and sighed. It occurred to him that while he didn't miss the bastard sneering and smoking in the corner of his office at whim, he did miss the option of picking Cancerman's brain for information. Cancerman always knew about Mulder and Scully. While the older man's deviance had been unhelpful to Mulder, there was still some unnamed interest there. It seemed as if this foul man had both protected and deceived Mulder simultaneously, albeit he had had some unforgivable role in Scully's abduction and cancer. Now that he was gone, Skinner was pressed to know whom he might pump for some inside information. An image of an encounter with Mulder flashed into his mind leading to the true source of his present preoccupation. It had been after the capture of Modell's sister as he tried to commend Mulder's work. He had known Mulder was angry with him when he had placed him on suspension, but he was even more aware of Mulder's angry resignation when Scully had agreed. Any lack of faith in him on her part seemed to cut Mulder to the core. Her opinion was so much more valuable to Mulder. Mulder had seen through Linda's deception despite everyone's doubt in his theory, and had pursued this truth. Skinner had wanted Mulder to know that he recognized his value, too, that day, although Mulder had stood there unimpressed. Skinner hadn't personalized it, though, knowing that Mulder's statement about feeling he had lost Linda's game had been full of deeper meaning. Skinner sighed, turning back to his desk and picking up his pen. Once he had told Mulder that he saw him as someone unafraid to go into paranormal places that he himself could not explore. He knew that many men would blanch at the things Mulder had faced down, but as in all great warriors, there was a vulnerability to be discovered. He was well aware that any agent would be shaken if he or she had nearly killed a partner. Partners with any amount of time together in law enforcement became as close as any family - in some cases closer than family. Maybe if they hadn't been through so much with Scully's cancer, he might not have see into Mulder so clearly. Mulder's behavior at the hospital had been revealing, however, through the vigils he had proceeded to keep near her room and the joy on his face when he learned of her cancer's remission. If Skinner had ever doubted what Mulder's weakness was, he need only recall the young agent's face as Mulder contemplated nearly shooting Scully in the confusion. The difference this time was that he saw the recognition of it in Mulder's eyes as well. He suspected that Mulder was grasping that he was in love with Scully. The loss of her then, especially at his own hands, was enough to bring him to his knees. Mulder also must have known that Modell's sister had been able to read his vulnerability clearly enough to play it. He had no doubt felt suddenly exposed. Skinner had suspected their feelings for quite some time. He knew that Scully's cool facade rarely slipped except where Mulder was concerned. She was like a barometer for him to read on the state of Mulder's welfare. Mulder unquestionably had given all of his trust and protection to her in return. So this partnership continued on some delicate balance that appeared to indicate that there was either denial or fear that prevented further proclamations between them. At least that was how he saw it for himself. More than once he had received mild complaints on his desk from subordinates who questioned the propriety of their relationship. Even the agents he had recently sent them with on a training seminar appeared to raise an eyebrow about the "closeness" of the two. Always when Skinner had questioned the offended parties further, however, no one could say specifically that agents Scully and Mulder had ever demonstrated any misconduct. Of course he was not surprised. If he were honest he would hail the two of them as the best agents in the bureau, especially in light of the strength they formed in balancing their opposing styles - pragmatism and romanticism dancing together in delicate precision. He knew what the others picked up on as he recalled watching Mulder bend close to Scully at numerous meetings and crime scenes as he talked to her. He was aware of the intimate touches that Mulder saved only for his partner and the secret communication that transpired between them often in long glances. He also recognized the evolution of male/female partnerships as well. Most mixed partners had sex stereotyped behavior that seemed to carry over into their relationships, and it was a hard line to draw between what was predictable behavior and what was impropriety. Mulder and Scully were unmarried and seemingly unattached, and, like many mixed teams, they had fallen into a quasi-marital response with one another. Hell, that vampire case in Texas was a perfect example of how those two could stand together against unbelievable scenarios while bantering back and forth like two spouses. Still, he believed that any deeper feelings between them had never been allowed to interfere with the work before them. Skinner mindlessly skimmed his memos while thinking about Mulder's unspoken realization of his feelings for Scully. Was that somehow going to inhibit him from thinking clearly when she was at his side now? He hoped to God it wouldn't. He would loath being the one to separate them again. He also felt a secret dread, for he knew that Mulder's weakness made it easier for their enemies to harm them. If he could read it then there was no doubt that the men inside this government conspiracy would soon know as well. Irritated, by his train of thought, Skinner shoved his papers roughly aside. He needed to seek out Andrews and Sidney himself to put a little pressure on their search. He had a bad feeling about this absence. The Assistant Director expelled another angry sigh, and headed for his office door. Where were Andrews and Sidney anyway? Sitting with these thoughts at his desk right now was not productive. Shelter 3:40 PM "There's a cabin ahead!" he shouted. Mulder glanced at his partner's tiny form beside him, the cry of relief ripping out of his mouth. She gazed out of her hooded parka with a pinched face, nearly beyond reaction at this point in their trek in this snowstorm. He felt his stomach tense as he allowed himself to contemplate how close to freezing she might be, and involuntarily tightened his arm around her nearly dragging her ahead to the cabin entrance. The generous porch ran the length of the cabin's front, although it was now covered in the blowing snowdrifts. The windows appeared dark with no sign of smoke from the stone chimney. Scully did her best to mount the steps with him although her legs had felt heavy and numb for a long time now. She wanted to close her eyes and stop caring about the cold, but her eyes flew open at Mulder's insistent knocking on the door. When there was no answer he tried the knob, then drew his weapon and fired on the lock. The door gave easily under his weight, and Scully found herself pulled inside, once again under his protective arm. Part of her thought she should stand on her own, but she was too weary to protest. They had been walking for an eternity she believed. Having kicked the door closed Mulder stood hugging her against him as he stood breathing in gasps, surveying the dimly lit room. There were windows all around that offered the last illumination of the gray afternoon sky. In less than an hour there would be total darkness. Absently rubbing Scully's back as if to warm her he noted to fireplace with ample wood supply, and overstuffed furniture placed around it. The downstairs room was open and rambled into a kitchen/dining area. A stairway led up to a loft floor that appeared to be another den area, although it could not be completely viewed from his vantagepoint. Quickly his attention turned again to Scully who stood leaning against him quietly shaking. "Scully?" he breathed lifting her chin to study her face. She still looked winded, and could not control her chattering teeth though she was trying very hard to. "I'm fine," she mumbled predictably with a dull expression. "I juss needa cash my breath." She shoved herself away from him a bit but he noticed her unsteadiness that accompanied her slurred words. She was no longer leaning on his chest but had not released his arms as his hands continued to hold her by the shoulders. He knew that she was avoiding his gaze, which meant she was feeling more vulnerable and afraid than she cared to own up to. He was worried about her as he observed her shallow breathing. She was so small these days despite the remission of her cancer, and the cold was no doubt taking its toll on her. She began to tug at her coat as if to remove it but he restrained her hands, causing her to sag back against him. "Don't. Let me get us a fire here and then we'll get thawed out," he directed, gently depositing her on the floor before joining her. He pulled off her boots like undressing a small child before removing his own, talking the whole time as if to distract her from his actions. "You know we're damned lucky we found this place, and obscenely lucky that there's no wood to chop!" He smiled at her drawing a slight curving of her mouth. Satisfied, he pulled off his gloves and moved to the hearth. The mantle held long matches and there was ample fire starter material with the woodpile. Laying the fire was quick work and his heart felt grateful as the dry wood flamed up easily. Soon they would have warmth as opposed to smoldering disappointment. Scully was rubbing her legs slowly as she watched him, having stayed where he had left her. Mulder unzipped his coat and approached her. "Do they hurt?" he inquired stooping down beside her. "Mmm," she nodded. He eyed her considering the possibility of hypothermia. Now what was the manual's procedure for treating someone for those symptoms? "Come over by the fire," he instructed as he lifted her to her feet. She seemed to wobble again and he found himself afraid to let her walk alone. He frowned then swept her up into his arms without warning. "Mulder!" she gasped weakly. "Shhh!" he scolded. He sat her down on the floor in front of the fire and studied her closely. She was much more exhausted than she wanted him to know. "I want to see if there are candles before the light is all gone." He left her briefly to search the kitchen, while she studied the fire feeling somewhat dazed. "This is a nice place," he commented from the other side of the room as he fortified the front door with a wooden chair from the dining table. "I wonder if its owners are gone long. It doesn't look like it sits empty long, and it's pretty up to date." He looked back at her briefly to check on her before continuing his search. In the back of his mind he was formulating a plan. "Scully! This place is amazing! There are water fixtures and there is water!" He called. She pondered this tidbit with some confusion. "Scully, there are baseboard registers along the floor of this room! Can it be that there is some sort of heating system?" He was instantly searching the room while she watched him dully. Surely there was no furnace here. "Here's the thermostat!" he called to her as he turned it up from its very low setting. Immediately the baseboard fixtures began to rattle with the sounds of flowing water. "Must be hot water heat, but how." His voice trailed off as he rejoined her. ." Scully could see him returning with a glass jar in one hand, and a kitchen towel in his other, but could only stare somewhat dumbly. "Maybe solar units utilizing a natural water supply? I've read about some naturalists who generate their own utilities. We didn't cover that much ground today, and you know we were too many miles from anything civilized to really explain the conveniences. I seem to remember that there was this guy who retired from the bureau a while back who built a house like this in the Rockies with his wife. It was totally solar." He grabbed the matches as he spoke, lighting the candle that occupied the jar. She watched him sniff it deeply then raise his eyebrows. "Nice." He handed it to her and she looked at the label before smelling it in her trembling hands. `Yankee, Sugared plums,' she read to herself. "Thatz nice," she said aloud. She handed it back to him and almost dropped it. Silently she appreciated Mulder's ability to notice a candle scent. He was good that way, being both courageous but in many ways sensitive too. Must be that FBI agent dash psychologist paradox she thought tiredly. "Looks like our host enjoys candles so I think we'll have plenty of light and good atmosphere! I don't think using any other lights is a good idea even if there 's electricity. The less we advertise that we're here the better." He sat the candle on a nearby end table, and shed his jacket. He could feel the fire some now and while his skin still felt deadly cold he was also beginning to feel the wetness of clothes. Scully tried with no success to tug off her jacket, grumbling a bit when Mulder gently moved her hands to unzip and remove the coat for her. She gave a shiver as he laid it across her legs, and began rubbing her hair with the kitchen towel. "Scully, I'm worried that you may be experiencing some hypothermia," he admitted looking her in the eyes seriously. She stared at him thinking this over. "We sh-should probbly find d-dry clothes, Muller," she observed in her slurred but clinical voice. He nodded. "I think there is a room upstairs where I can look for some." He paused a second holding her eyes. "Scully, you're going to have to let me help you though." She blinked slowly as if weighing his words, then nodded wearily. "Good. Now try to walk with me. Let's get some blood pumping in you." He helped her up and she awkwardly leaned on him. Together they slowly ascended the stairs in the growing darkness, Mulder balancing the candle in one hand while holding up Dana with his other arm. The loft was a comfortable room with lounge furniture at the front of the area and a large rustic bed near the other end. A doorway led into one last chamber at the far back of the room. Mulder guessed it was a bathroom. Near the bed they could make out large armoire and a nightstand. Mulder eased Scully into a chair before investigating the armoire's contents. To his disappointment there were more blankets and linens instead of clothing, however, as he opened one of the drawer compartments he found neatly folded stacks of satiny white material. Pulling the garment from the drawer he realized he was holding a pajama top. Tossing it to the bed he emptied out the remaining contents which proved to be the bottoms for the shirt and a matching larger set of pajamas. "His and hers, Scully," he quipped absently. "I have a feeling our refuge may be a little get away, like a time share or something for the couple who wants privacy." He turned to her holding the satin P.J.'s up with a mischievous look. She eyed him skeptically. "N-not too w-warm," she chattered back. He shook his head in agreement. "True, but nevertheless much drier," he replied. "Come on. Time to get personal." Mulder dropped the nightclothes on the chair arm and watched Scully start to struggle with the hem of her sweater. The routine movements seemed so hard for her to coordinate. Once again Mulder checked off his symptom list for hypothermia, sighing. "Let me help," he said quietly. She let a long breath out but acquiesced as he slipped the sweater the rest of the way over her head. He leaned in and reached behind her back, deftly unfastening her bra and sighing when she shot him her famous raised eyebrow. "No wet layers," he stated, "I remember the handbook." He picked up the night shirt, pausing a moment before looking her dead in the eyes before reaching for the garment that now loosely covered her chest. Their eyes remained locked as he slid it off her shoulders, running a hand down her right arm first to remove it from the bra, repeating his action again on her left side. Her lips trembled slightly, and his expression softened as he recognized her vulnerability. He helped her arms into the shirt gently, allowing her to pull the front closed over her breasts before looking down at her to button the buttons. Her skin was tantalizing against his fingertips, as was sight of the valley between her breasts that he was covering. "Stand up, Scully," he commanded when he was done, thinking that this was the tricky part. "Hold onto my neck," he instructed as he placed her arms over his shoulders. "Mul.Mulderrr.. I." she started to quietly protest. He hesitated looking at her pensively before touching his fingers to her lips. "Shhh. You can shoot me tomorrow," he smiled. "Your aim should be better then anyway." Her expression was one of reluctant gratitude. Part of her knew Mulder well enough to know he would not take advantage of her weakened state, although another part of her was beyond caring at the moment. He unfastened her jeans then allowed her to lean against him as he slid his hands down the sides of each hip, his thumbs catching the clothing to pull it down. He would have been lying if he denied ever wondering what it would be like to perform this act on Scully, albeit under different circumstances. He noticed that the pajama top was large on her, hanging low enough for modesty on one end while dangling loosely at the top to reveal her small shoulder and the slope of one breast. Easing her back down on the chair he pushed aside his growing interest in her body, and tugged off the pants smoothly. In a moment he had her feet inside the pajama bottoms, and was lifting her back to her feet. When he shifted he to his left arm to free his right-hand to pull up the garment, he felt his left hand cup her breast inadvertently. While he occupied himself with the pants he kept thinking about how nice she felt to him. Stop it, Mulder, he thought. He shifted her again and eased the pants up to her waist, before carrying her to the bed and depositing her under the covers. She pulled the comforter up around her chin still trying to suppress the trembling lips. "You change, M.. Mulder," she urged him. "You're c-cold, too. We need to w-warm ourselles." He nodded before padding off to the chair. He was stripping off his shirt as she lay watching him, and it occurred to her that she had rarely seen his lean body except in times of illness or injury. She considered that she should probably turn her head out of courtesy when he began unfastening his pants, but she was too tired to move. Clinically speaking, she had seen much more of him than one might expect of partners, but then she was a doctor. Some part of her mind acknowledged the view of his derriere as he dropped his pants and donned the pajama bottoms. Most of her mind was becoming preoccupied with a growing sense that she was starting to freeze again. She pondered this phenomenon idly deciding that Mulder was right about the hypothermia. Through the fogginess of her mind she sorted through the basic treatment for exposure to the cold. Mulder was correct to try to get her to walk upstairs to stimulate her muscles and to remove all wet layers. Foods, carbohydrates, warm liquids, and external heat sources - a fire, and body to body contact with a normothermic person wearing lightweight, dry clothing. Mulder was standing next to the bed now wearing the shimmering pajamas. They looked incongruent with his personality. He ran a warm hand along her face and brushed back her hair. He had been aware of her watching him dress but felt somehow undisturbed. Sometimes he forgot that there was any separation between them. In so many ways their lives had become one shared life, no less committed and stormy than most marriages he knew of. He had nothing to hide from her or to feel shame about. She had argued with him and questioned him, but always respected and accepted him for who he was. "I'm going to get some of these blankets downstairs by the fire where it's warmer, and see if I can't find us some food, Scully," he explained while Scully mentally commended his treatment procedures. He threw off the comforter and crossed the room, tossing it easily over the loft railing and onto the floor below. "Up you go girl," he said as he returned to her. He hoisted her to her feet walking her to the stairway, then grunted to himself, sweeping her back up into his arms as he descended. Scully faintly recalled that no one had carried her since she was a little girl and that had been her father. Now she rested in Mulder's arms like a child again. Absently she wondered if Ahab would've approved of Mulder's protectiveness of the youngest Scully daughter. Somehow she doubted that he would've have been so unforgiving toward Mulder as her brother Bill had been. Mulder settled her in front of the fire and wrapped her in a blanket. For the first time she noticed his hands were trembling. Startled, she reached out and grabbed his in her own hands tightly. "Mulder! You're freezing, too!" She tugged him toward herself weakly, but he resisted. "Not yet,' he patted her. "Let me find some food and then we'll work on staying warm." He hurried away to the kitchen returning with a pan holding a slab of bread, a block of creamy cheese, and a bottle of wine with two cups. "I know that the wine is not good for helping hold body heat," he apologized, "but there aren't many choices in there." She nodded as he sat the tray in front of her. "Here, I'll stir the fire." Watching him move to the hearth she shakily broke the bread and cheese in hunks onto the tray. He did not hesitate to join her under the blanket when he was done with the fire, moving very close against her as he wearily expelled his breath. He then poured the wine into the cups, handing her one. "Ugh! I feel so helpless!" she complained handing him some food. "You know it will pass when you get warm enough," he nodded. "Let's just hope for no related illnesses." She drank deeply, before nibbling at her food. Mulder ate his hungrily, drinking the wine slowly while he studied the fire first and then the room quietly. When he finished his food he slid an arm around her again and pulled her close to his side. "Do you think we are safe here?" She ventured, not looking at him. "I don't know," he answered truthfully. "I'm guessing that we've been left to die rather than trying to pursue us in the snow. Even though this cabin looks like it's regularly used it may be that the storm is preventing the occupants from returning. Still, I'm hoping we'll have help sooner than later." "Mulder, I'm not sure if there was a craft that someone didn't want us to find or if there never was one and someone wanted us out of the way." She sighed and absently placed her hand over his. "Yeah. I'd rather believe it was the first options and not the latter, although any sign of what was there is no doubt long gone," he replied looking down at her. "You sound better. The food must be helping." He did not add that he wished she had eaten more. She looked up at him quietly with one of her unreadable looks, thinking she felt mixed feelings about their present closeness. His body was invitingly warm, and she felt unable to resist leaning against him. It was the first promise of being warm again that she had experienced in many hours, not to mention the odd sense of security that accompanied it. She noticed that his face looked very tired and lined, and wondered if the stress had kept him going to the expense of his body. "Mulder, you look tired," she told him. He nodded once again and turned his eyes to the fire. For a moment he was silent. "I am reminded of a trip to the woods minus some matches and a sleeping bag, although on that occasion we were being supervised by a moss man," he said with dry humor. "I had not planned to be saying this to you this morning, Agent Scully, but I sincerely hope you're planing to sleep with me tonight. This time I am truly freezing my ass off." "Body to body contact in a sleeping bag with a normothermic person wearing lightweight, dry clothing," she quoted with a wry smile. "Do you usually resort to FBI emergency guidelines to pick up women?" "I find it highly useful," he grinned. "It's also useful to use the bureau's regs as a defense. I would hope that dealing with hypothermia would not be considered `consorting' with my female partner while on a case." She could feel the effects of the alcohol on her already depleted system as she stared at him with hazy eyes. She was willing to sort out this more fully tomorrow. All she knew was that tonight she wanted to sleep peacefully and warmly. Right now she felt like she could crawl inside Mulder's skin and still not be warm enough. Maslow's hierarchy of needs, she mused. Tonight she would indulge in finding warmth and consider her pride tomorrow. "I don't think we'll die, but we could become very sick if we don't stay warm," she commented smiling but feeling serious. No cell phones and little chance of being traced could leave them out of reach from adequate medical care too long should things get worse. "In that case, ma'am, how `bout we try to get some sleep in that bed that is calling my name." He stood up and held out his hand to her, leaving her suddenly feeling relieved and shy at the same time. "Okay, but your ass is mine if you try to hold this over my head any time in the future!" His only response was a wicked gleam in his eyes as she took his hand and let him help her up the stairs. The candlelight greeted them warmly in the loft. "I think I would like to live in a place like this," he commented. "Although I would put it just a tad bit closer to town." She smiled and nodded as he deposited her at the bathroom door. He quickly went back and retrieved the blanket, leaving her to the bathroom momentarily. She hurried to avoid having him feel obligated to help her in some way, but smiled as he retrieved her right on cue outside the door to help her to slide under the bedcovers. Once he arranged the bed to his satisfaction he extinguished the candle, and made for the bathroom himself. She laid there thinking about other times they had shared rooms during their travels, but this was the first time she had lain awaiting him to lay beside her at the end of a harrowing day. Her mind felt jumbled with conflicting thoughts and emotions. In the darkness he returned and crawled under the blankets and reached for her automatically. He did not speak as he pulled her half onto himself, letting her cheek rest on his bare chest. The pajama top had not suited him anyway she mused silently. She could feel his hands absently stroking her back, and had she not been completely exhausted she might have started to cry from the shear pleasure of being caressed. It had been so long since she had felt cherished by anyone, and in her weariness she could almost imagine that Mulder felt this way for her. Mulder was very aware of the woman he was holding, feeling thankful that he was too tired to act on the sensual burn beginning to grow in his groin. A little voice in his head reminded him that she was definitely unique, and there was no question that this FBI man would not likely be curled up with any other partner this way, hypothermia or not. Scully was everything to him, but he could not afford to entertain the forbidden fruit that could ultimately destroy their partnership. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, for a moment pretending he was any other man just lying down in his little home with his wife nestled safe in his arms. This was a small pleasure he could allow himself for a night he thought before drifting off into nothingness. Washington D.C. 10:00 PM The heavy man answered the phone as he held a restraining hand up to his business associate. Silence fell over the interior of the limousine, as his companion complied, watching him. He felt disdain for the expressionless bastard as he watched him breathing into the cell phone, relatively sure he knew what the caller would be sharing. When the call was finished he raised a speculative eyebrow. "And did they arrive at our intended destination?" he queried with his perfect enunciation. The fat man nodded an assent. "We can complete our plan as scheduled. Mulder has proven to be as resourceful as ever," he replied. "His unfortunate discovery of the alien rebel will soon be dealt with." The thin, elegantly dressed man pondered this quietly. He and his undesirable companion were growing older, tied together by years of mutual projects destined to subverted from the knowledge of the mainstream. He wondered if he still believed in his mission anymore, although it mattered very little. At this point in his life it had become a question of survival; survival from the colonists, the rebels and his ruthless associates. "We must be careful to execute the final phase," he said at last. "Don't worry. Mulder and his partner will provide the missing ingredient if given enough time." "You had better be right," shot the well-manicured man. The two eyed eachother in stony silence as the sleek, black car passed the Washington Monument nearby, on its way to the White House. Suddenly it abruptly swerved to the side of the road and halted, much to the surprise of the two men. Before they could respond to this unexpected event, the car door swung open, revealing a dark figure. "Good evening gentlemen," greeted the intruder with mock cheer before taking a long drag on his Morley. The cigarette glowed brightly at the two dumbfounded occupants of the car drawing a sneering laugh from the smoker. "I thought perhaps you might be able to spare a ride for an old..friend." "You!" spat the heavy man as the smoker slid into the car unruffled. He continued to smoke with an icy smile on his face, enjoying the unusual display of emotion on his host's face. "You're probably surprised to see me," He shared with delight. "I trust you heard about my recent misfortune." "What is it that you want?" asked the well-manicured man calmly ignoring his outraged companion. Cancerman raised his eyebrows as if surprised. "Why, what I've always wanted. What we have always wanted," he replied pleasantly. "I realize that I have been away since that miscalculated gunshot, so I have not helped out as I should." He paused to take another long drag on his smoke before speaking again. "Mulder has been most useful in promoting the selective information you have desired, not to mention the more concrete...contributions of his lovely partner," He continued. "Now I am to believe that you see him as too close to the truth, and a danger to your goals. This is not true, though. Your plan is too short sighted." "What do you know of our plans?" demanded the large man shifting his eyes briefly to his ally next to him. This drew another satisfied smile from the smoking man as he blew out a blue cloud leisurely. "Come now! Surely you must know that I would not be here had I not found solace for my injustices from those in your own organization," he mocked. "I am told that you need a shorter leash which they intend to provide." It was the well-manicured man's turn to widen his eyes. Could it be true that this smoking snake had found a method to contain this overweight menace? He felt his interest growing suddenly. "And what would you propose we do?" He asked Cancerman with glittering eyes. His guest inhaled his last puff, and smiled widely. Everything was going as he had predicted. The Cabin 1:40 AM Mulder stirred in his sleep groggily becoming aware of the extreme arousal he felt. Another erotic dream about Scully he hoped. His hand was moving lazily over the warm breasts of the woman who lay with her back to him, having found its way under the loose satin shirt. He was lying pressed up against her back, his erection pressing into her tiny bottom through the thin material of his pajamas. The satin crawled over him sensually adding to his desire as he buried his face in the soft red hair on Scully's head. Sleepily he wondered how she had come to be in his bed, while he continued to gently tease her erect nipples with his fingers. Small sounds were coming from her now and to his delight she rubbed her bottom against him firmly while placing a hand over his arm draped busily around her middle. He always loved this dream. Scully was vaguely aware of the pleasurable feeling that was creating a tingling and very wet sensation between her legs. She was dreaming that Mulder's hand was caressing her - inviting her to love him, as she became aware of his arousal moving against her behind. It felt good to have him want her; her own need for him was so strong. She slid her hand up over his and directed it into the waistband of her pants, pressing his fingers into her wetness. It had been too long since she had been made love to. "Scully," he gasped hardly audible and slurred from sleepy desire. He began to move his fingers deftly causing her to moan and push her hips forward. He breathed her name again into her ear hotly, becoming more awake. A shudder passed through him as he began to realize she was really there with him, knowing he felt both afraid of what he was doing as well as incredibly pleased. Was she awake enough to understand what she was inviting him to do? Scully fought the desire to come as he touched her slowly realizing that the sensations she was feeling were very real. Confused about how she had found herself in bed with him, the vulnerability of her sleepiness was allowing her desire for him to spill out. Mulder was not an uncommon visitor to her arousing dreams, although in her waking hours she generally fought the admission that she would think of him in such a way. Now he lay beside her kissing her neck warmly, pushing her pajamas down over her hips. She rolled over on her back, to be immediately covered by him, his lips hot from sleep seeking hers. The kiss was soft and moist at first, and then he hungrily thrust his tongue into her mouth while he ran his hands through her hair. Scully wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed closer to him. She kissed him with the force of a woman who had been holding back her desire for too damned long, the floodgates finally opening. Somewhere in the back of his mind Mulder was tantalized by the cool Dr. Scully's capacity for passion. He had always believed her to be this way despite her clinical demeanor. It pleased him to be the one destroying her composure. "Scully," he whispered. "Let me please you." Before she could answer he was undoing her shirt trailing hot kisses across her chest, finally exposing her nipples to his probing mouth. Scully gasped blissfully, tangling her hands in his hair. She ran her hand just under his waistband, unable to reach him, but he shifted in response to bring his throbbing penis to her hand. He groaned at her touch and thrust against her fingers for more, while he returned his fingers to her hot center. They continued to touch one another more aggressively as each felt more aroused by the other. Mulder had kicked of his bottoms, and was kissing Scully's breasts again. She felt she would not be able to wait despite a part of her that had always fantasized that if they ever made love it would be slow and deliberate. This was incredibly hot and out of control. Mulder broke away from her touch and ran his tongue over her clitoris skillfully. She nearly came and had to force him from her as she breathed raggedly. He had turned in such a way that his penis was near her face, and impulsively she caught him in her mouth, drawing a gasp from him. They lay there teasing one another, growing more vigorous as their own arousal grew out of what was being done to them. "God, Mulder! I want you!" she groaned huskily at last drawing a smile as he planted a kiss on her belly. "Make love to me," she groaned again rubbing her hands over his head. He was already pulling her pants the rest of the way off as she spoke. Didn't she know he had no intention of denying her? He felt his control had slipped beyond stopping long ago, and his sole mission was to join with her the way he believed they had been wanting to for so very long. Damn the consequences! He was not going to lose the chance to make her know what she meant to him at last. He thrust into her easily. She was wet because of him he thought happily. She moaned and clung to him, kissing his neck greedily. They moved together in the ancient dance of lovers until they at last found blinding release. Scully felt as if she had shattered into a million pieces giving him her all to have him follow shuddering against her. She had cried out hearing him gasp out her name at the same time. She had head him call to her on so many occasions under all types of circumstances, but had never thought she would hear her name torn from him in such passion. He lay against her heavily, spent and breathing shallowly. One hand stoked her hair gently. Absently, she ran her fingers across his back trying to decide what to say to him. Everything seemed so trite and unnecessary. She knew two things clearly. One was that Mulder had made love to her because of what she meant to him as surely as she had given herself to him for the same reason. The second was that if they talked they would have to have the dreaded conversation about what happens next. She was loath to think of it yet, as he also must be judging from his silence. For a while they cuddled until she got up unsteadily to go to the bathroom at last. When she returned to the bed she hesitated a moment in the moonlight, suddenly unsure of him, but he quickly held out his hand to her. She allowed him to pull into his arms again, remembering she had fallen asleep this way only hours before. He was caressing her back again, and this time she relished the knowledge that he cherished her. "We'll talk tomorrow, Scully," he said softly, then added, "I do love you." "I know," she answered running her fingers across his chest thoughtfully. "I love you, too." Neither spoke again but lay awake considering this turn of events carefully. It was much later before either of them slept again.