From: Dorenda Prue <scullyb5@yahoo.com>
Date: Sun, 25 Jun 2000 09:40:39 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: new story
Source: direct

Title:     Necessary Journeys                                                      

Author: Dorenda

Rated: NC-17 for language, violence and sexual situation.
           UST, MSR, MulderAngst, ScullyAngst, Rape

Spoilers: Minor for Lazarus, Paper Clip, and Fight the Future

Summary: Mulder and Scully get involved in a case from his past which has
a profound impact on their relationship.

Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner and Alex Krychek 
                  belong to Chris Carter. Without whom, we X-Philes would
                  have nothing to do on Sunday nights.  I must also give thanks 
                  to David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson who breathe life and 
                  soul into the characters they play.
                  I must also acknowledge the fact that I borrowed a line from
                 Charles Grant's X-Files novel "Goblins" and a line from the 
                 movie "The Last of the Mohicans."  I'm not telling which lines 
                 aren't mine since I'm sure that if you've read or seen the above 
                 you can figure it out for yourself.

Author's Notes: This is the first fanfic I started to write.  I began it way
                back in May 1999, the week before finals and to come full circle, 
                it was finished in November of 1999, the week before finals.  It 
                has, however taken me a long time to finish tweaking and  
                formatting, because I wanted it to be perfect.  I'm a Creative 
               Writing major and the classes I've taken have made me a 
               nitpicker:)  I say that this is the first story I began writing because 
               in between, I wrote and finished two other stories (A Friend to  
               Me and The Shortest Distance;  Nothing like a little shameless      
               plug:), neither of which is as long as this one.  This is my baby 
               and I hope that it is as good a story as I think it is.
               I also just want to point out that this was written the old
               fashioned way: with a pen and notebook that I carried around       
               with me. Whenever I had a chance I sat and wrote.  I began          
               writing in the car one day; it started with a simple scene, that        
               shows up toward the end of this story.  It's the scene at Mulder's   
               apartment after the denouement (can you tell I'm an English         
               major?) and from there the rest of the story came to me in bits      
              and pieces.  When the ideas came I wrote them down at the of       
              the page for future reference.  I've kept the notebook for later        
             stories because I had too many ideas that couldn't be used for         
             this story.
                Anyway, feedback is most definitely appreciated, please try to be
               constructive.   Flames will be used to warm up my freezing           
               bedroom.
              Archive anywhere as long as I know about it.


And now on with our show. . . . .




FBI Headquarters
Washington, D.C.
Thursday, 4:37 P.M.

     "Mulder," came the reply to the annoying ring in his office.
     "Mulder, I need you and Scully in my office for a new case."
     "Yes, sir," he hung up the phone.  "Scully, we've got a new case. 
Skinner wants us in his office ASAP."
     Mulder was already anticipating an X-file, Scully realized.  She could
tell by the glint of excitement shining in his hazel eyes.  Scully just hoped it
didn't involve liver-eating mutants, inbreeding hicks, or alien-human
hybrids.  She wanted a "normal" case: a serial murderer, a rapist,
an all-around bad guy.  "No freaks!" she silently plead, as they rode the
elevator to the sixth floor, home to the offices of AD Walter Skinner.  The
secretary nodded to them as they made their way past her to the inner
sanctum of the suite.
     "Sit down, Agents," Skinner greeted them.  "Agent Mulder, this new
case involves Leon Perdoue," he began.
     "Perdoue?" Mulder interrupted, "He was supposed to be serving three
consecutive life sentences.  There was to be no opportunity for parole!"
     "I realize that, but somehow, five days ago he escaped from his
maximum security prison cell."
     "Why weren't we informed immediately?"
     "Apparently he was in solitary after attacking a guard.  No one bothered
seeing if he was alive or dead when they brought him his food.  He's not
exactly a popular guy, even among the inmates, as you can imagine."
     "So they've just now discovered that Perdoue is missing?" Mulder was
incredulous.
     "Actually, *he* informed *us* that he's out."
     "For what purpose?"
     "He wants you, Mulder.  You put him away and he wants revenge.  He
says he's going to pick up where he left off ten years ago."  Mulder looked
concerned at these words.
     "Excuse me," Scully interrupted, "But who is Leon Perdoue?  What's
his M.O.?"
     "Sorry, Scully," Mulder apologized for himself and Skinner.  "When I
worked in Violent Crimes, there had been a series of kidnapping/murders
involving young girls, dating back to late 1987.  These girls, usually ten to
fifteen years old, were taken from their Kentucky homes late at
night; their bodies turned up five days later, beaten to death and raped, but
with no physical evidence as to who might have done it," Mulder tried to
keep his face and voice neutral but Scully could see the anger lurking
behind the mask.  "A girl was taken once every two weeks over four
months.  Then the crime would stop for six months and then the cycle
resumed.  He was very cautious and very intelligent."
     "And this Perdoue, he was the perpetrator?" Scully asked.
     "Yes, though he never confessed."
     "Then how . . ."
     "We were able to gather DNA evidence from his last victim.  He got
sloppy, but still insisted that he was framed.  That little girl we found was
only eight years old and we discovered her alive, in an abandoned
warehouse.  She was barely coherent at the time, but after a few weeks of
intensive therapy, she was able to give a pretty detailed account of her
ordeal.  She was even able to give us enough information for a sketch artist
to draw a rendering of Perdoue that was pretty accurate," Mulder
explained, his voice devoid of emotion, his eyes alternately flashing anger,
disgust, and deep sorrow.
     Scully saw this when she looked back at her partner and she struggled
to keep her own voice neutral as she asked, "So this is where he intends to
pick up?"
     "It appears that way, Agents," Skinner's voice startled her.  She'd
forgotten he was in the room while Mulder related the gruesome details.
     "I want you to begin tracking him down.  Go to all his old haunts,
anywhere a body turned up, anywhere a girl was taken from, his old
neighborhood, anything.  You are to begin immediately.  You have nine
days to prevent a tragedy, so this is you primary case.  Everything else will
have to wait.  Your plane tickets are on their way.  The earliest flight I
could get was for seven AM tomorrow morning.  You are dismissed."
     Mulder and Scully headed back to their basement lair.  Scully glanced at
Mulder, trying to discern his mood, but he gave nothing away.  He
remained stoic until they reached the elevator.  His shoulders slumped and
then leaned heavily against the back wall.  She recognized the signs of
shutting down his emotions, but Scully said nothing; waiting, wanting to
hear whatever he chose to share with her.
     They reached the basement and in silence continued on to their office,
where they sat facing each other across Mulder's desk.
     "I think we should go over the case files and come up with a preliminary
list of locations to search.  I'll call up to the Records Department and have
them bring down the files.  We'll be able to create a somewhat accurate
profile of the types of girls he likes to take and that way we can . . ."
     Mulder went on explaining to Scully, as if she was a rookie cop, how
they were going to go about executing this case.  She listened patiently,
knowing it was his way of trying to keep his emotions in check.  When the
files finally arrived a half an hour later, Mulder slipped his glasses on, and
began to read the material placed in front of him, still talking a mile a
minute.  Scully placed a small hand on his forearm, stilling his tirade.
     Mulder glanced up, "What?" he asked.
     "Something is bothering you about this case.  I don't know what it is or
why you're not sharing it with me, but if you want to talk about it, I'm
here."
     "There's nothing wrong, Scully.  I put this bastard away once.  I just
didn't think I'd have to do it again," Mulder's gaze dropped from his
partner's face and continued perusing the file, occasionally making notes on
a pad next to it.
     "I can see it in your eyes, Mulder.  But if you don't feel like you can
share it with me . . . Then I understand," Scully finished resignedly.
     Mulder jumped up suddenly, "I've gotta get some fresh air.  I'll go get
us some food.  Be back soon."
     Scully threw a puzzled look at Mulder's retreating back, then leaned
over to pick up the forgotten file.  When she saw the picture of the little
girl, Scully almost dropped the file.  She knew that face, she knew that
little girl.

Basement Office
Washington, D.C.
5:19 PM

     Scully looked again at the picture, taking in more of the details.  "No,"
she thought.  This was not Samantha Mulder.  The face was too full, the
hair not long or dark enough.  "My God," she thought, "No wonder
Mulder's a wreck."  She continued reading the report on the eight year old
girl:
          "Sarah Jenkins was found at 3101 Talmor View at approximately
4:30 AM.  Subject was beaten with a blunt instrument, possibly a baseball
bat or some other wooden object; this assumption being in light of finding
the many splinter fragments found in the subject's abrasions.
          "Subject was also raped, conceivably several times.  She had bruising
on her face, arms, and inner thighs.  Several cuts were found on her chest
and arms, suggesting that she tried to fight back.  In addition, the subject
was found to have three broken ribs along with a broken left tibia.
          "Rape kit was administered when subject arrived at St. Frances
Memorial Hospital forty-five minutes after being found."
     Here Scully stopped.  She felt her eyes fill with tears for a little girl
whose innocence had been lost forever.  Scully took a deep breath and
continued reading the file on the Jenkins girl; noting that her older brother
was supposed to be watching her at the time of her kidnapping.  This was
hitting too close to home.
     Soon, she turned her attention to Anthony Leon Perdoue's profile.  She
was so engrossed in her reading that she didn't hear Mulder enter the room. 
He walked slowly towards her, waiting until he was directly behind her,
then dropped his hand lightly on her left shoulder.
     "Jesus!" Scully exclaimed as she jumped up to see who had intruded on
her thoughts. "Mulder, for Christ's sake will you warn me when you're
gonna do that?"
     "But that's the whole point," he grinned at her, "You're not *supposed*
to have any warnings."
     "Mulder," she sounded exasperated, then she grinned back, "You know
if I hadn't assumed it was you, you could have been in serious danger! 
Maybe next time I'll let my natural instincts take over!"
     "Ooh, is that a threat or a promise?  And dare I ask what those natural
instincts might be?" Mulder raised his eyebrows suggestively.
     "Not if we're going to keep your brain out of the gutter," she replied.
     Mulder just leered again.
     "Mulder, I know secret doctor things.  Don't force me to use this
knowledge against you!"
     "Slow down!  I come in peace!  I brought you food," Mulder said,
waving the bag inticingly.
     "So Mulder, which greasy spoon did you grace with your presence?"
     "Scully, you wound me.  I don't need grease to survive.  Look, I got the
good stuff!" he put on his best puppy dog face.
     Scully inspected to bag, surprised to find it was, indeed, from one of
the best places in town.
     "What's this, Mulder?  Not your usual fare."
     "I guess I'm trying to make up for my behavior earlier.  I shouldn't have
dismissed your concerns.  I just, I don't know, what I'm trying to say is that
I'm sorry and I know you care, but I can't talk about it.  Not yet," Mulder
set the bag down on the desk, his back to Scully.
     "Mulder," Scully said, trying to lighten the mood once again, "I think
that since you've graduated from grease to grey poupon we deserve to get
out of this office to eat."
     "Scully, we still have to go over these files and decide where we're
going to start tomorrow."
     "I realize that, but we'll be much more comfortable at my place.
Besides, it's late, almost six," Scully knew if she could get Mulder relaxed
enough, that he would probably be willing to tell her himself how much this
case bothered him.  Which meant that she *might* be able to stop his slide
into an emotional void.
     "What about the food?  It's going to get cold ya know!" Mulder whined
a bit.
     "I have this amazing device at home call a mi-cro-wave," she sounded it
out slowly, like he was a child, "and it magically warms food up when you
press a few buttons."
     "The miracle of modern conveniences," Mulder returned.
     "Come on G-man, grab the files and the food, and let's go."

Scully's Apartment
Georgetown,
6:26 PM

     They'd taken Scully's car, since Mulder's was in the shop *again*. 
When they reached her apartment, Mulder walked in and threw all the
paperwork on Scully's coffee table.  "Make yourself at home," Scully
mumbled, more to herself than Mulder.
     Mulder sat in the middle of her couch, set his glasses back on, and
continued his digestion of the numerous files.
     "I'll just see to the food," Scully called loudly, somewhat annoyed.  She
knew he was engrossed in the case, but they could at least dinner without
concentrating on the case.  She wanted to eat at the kitchen table, but
knowing Mulder, it would never happen.
     Scully opened the bags, curious to see what Mulder had gotten them to
eat.  When she pulled out the contents, she was again pleasantly surprised:
chicken cordon bleu, baked potatoes; one with cheddar cheese, the other
with sour cream, mixed veggies and four or five wheat rolls.
     "Need any help?" Mulder's voice asked from behind her.
     "Do you delight in seeing me jump out of my skin?  Ever since Dallas
you've taken it upon yourself to see how many times a week you can scare
the bejesus out of me," Scully answered him.
     "Sorry.  I guess I didn't realize I was doing it so often."
     "You're not.  Not really, it's just twice in one day is my limit, okay?"
     "Sure.  Anyway *do* you need any help with the food?" he asked again.
     "That would be good.  How 'bout you set the table?  Dishes are in that
cupboard, silverware in that drawer, and the wine glasses are in that
cupboard," Scully pointed in rapid succession around her small kitchen. 
She could see Mulder's eyes light up as he realized that they would actually
be eating at her table instead of her couch, as they usually did.  She caught
herself staring at his expressive hazel eyes, delighting in the fact that she'd
surprised Mulder with the idea of eating like civilized people.
     Mulder caught her stare, returned it for a brief moment, then raised his
eyebrow in a fairly good imitation of her own patented "look."  Scully gave
it back, hoping Mulder didn't see how affected she was by his boyish
display of emotion.
     "Well, are you gonna stare at me all night or set the table?"
     Mulder got the message and started toward the first cupboard Scully
had pointed out.  Fifteen minutes later, the table was set, the food heated
up and the wine poured. The meal was eaten in a quick, but companionable
silence.  Scully knew Mulder was eager to get back to the case so she told
him, "Mulder why don't you continue with the files, while I clean up."  As
she expected, she got no argument.
     Before she headed to the kitchen , she grabbed a few files off the large
pile on the coffee table. Scully figured she could read up on the case while
she did a once over of her kitchen.  Twenty minutes later, she exited the
kitchen in favor of the living room.  There, she found Mulder, glasses
on, one had holding a thick file, the other rubbing his lower back.
     "Still bothering you, Mulder?" she asked.
     "Huh?" Mulder turned to face Scully, startled.
     "Your back, is it still bothering you?" Scully repeated.
     "No, it's not that bad.  It comes and goes."
     During their last case, two weeks previous, Mulder had had to tackle a
fleeing suspect. Unfortunately, in midair, he'd had to change direction and
therefore alter his landing.  In the process, Mulder had wrenched his lower
back.  Scully knew what had happened the moment he'd landed, but to
Mulder's credit, he didn't show it until their suspect had been cuffed and led
away.  The only thing Mulder could do to ease the pain was to take
ibuprofen around the clock and occasionally put a heating pad on it.  Scully
had also suggested a few exercises to keep the muscles loose.
     So she asked Mulder, "When's the last time you did any of the exercises
I showed you?"
     Mulder looked sheepish, "A few days ago."  At Scully's upraised
eyebrow he continued defensively, "I wasn't having any pain or spasms so I
thought it was fine."
     "Mulder, did I or did I not tell you that you needed to do those
exercises for at least three weeks and then you needed to let me examine
you before stopping them?" Scully reprimanded.
     "Yes, but . . . " he trailed off as Scully interrupted.
     "There are no 'buts' about it.  I want you to lay on your stomach while I
work on the muscles," Scully knelt beside the couch as she spoke.
     At first Mulder was too surprised to move but as he processed what
he'd heard, he realized that a backrub from his partner was not without its
appeal.  Grunting as he moved, Mulder struggled to comply with Scully's
orders.  Finally he was in position, his long legs dangling over the arm of
Scully's couch.
     Mulder closed his eyes and had to stifle a groan as Scully began to
knead the knot in his back.
     "Am I hurting you, Mulder?" Scully asked quietly.
     "No," he said with a forced bravado, "Feels nice actually."
     "Liar," she accused with no real venom.
     "You got me.  Could you ease up a little?"
     Scully complied, lessening the force she used as she leaned into
Mulder's back.  She was surprised Mulder had given in so easily.  "He must
really be hurting," she thought.  She alternated using the heel of her hand
and the side of it to work the kinks out of Mulder's back.
     Mulder felt himself drift as he caught the rhythm of Scully's hands.  The
next thing he knew, he was jerking awake to the sound of . . . What the hell
*was* he hearing?  Mulder struggled to pull himself to full consciousness
and finally realized that he was still at Scully's apartment.  He yawned, then
stretched, and glanced around the room, only to find Scully looking at him
over the top of another file.
     For the last hour, Scully had alternately read the case files on Perdoue
and watched Mulder sleep.  She liked to see him like that: peaceful,
relaxed, vulnerable.  He looked like a little boy lying there on her couch. 
All the worry lines disappeared and a shock of brown hair fell over his
eyes.  Scully wished she could see Mulder this way more often.  But she
knew that until they caught Leon Perdoue, this was the most relaxed she'd
see him for awhile.
     Suddenly, Scully realized she'd been staring at Mulder and now he was
awake.  A little embarrassed at being caught, she quickly lowered her gaze,
then looked back up to see Mulder staring back at her, his expression
unreadable.  Before he could say anything, Scully blurted out, "What are
you looking at?"
     "I'm looking at you, Miss Scully."
     Scully could feel herself turning red.  "What was *that* about?" she
wondered to herself.  "And why the hell was that innocent, or maybe not so
innocent," she argued with herself, "comment affecting her so much?"
     Mulder mentally slapped himself.  "Did I just say what I think I just
said?" he questioned himself.  "I cannot believe what an idiot I am."  Then
he tried reasoning with himself: "I was still half asleep.  And that music was
really kind of romantic . . . Music?!"  Mulder finally figured out what had
awoken him in the first place; the crashing of cymbals and drums in a lilting
Irish tune that he vaguely recognized.  "Who'da thought Scully was into
music that was so . . . girly?" he mused.
     The silence between the partners grew.  Neither knew how to break it. 
Finally, "I'd better get going.  I've gotta pack for tomorrow."
     "Did you need a ride?"
     "No, I'll get a cab."
     "Are you sure?"
     "Yeah, it'll be fine.  I'll meet you at the airport tomorrow."
     "What time?"
     "Six okay?"
     "Sounds good.  See you tomorrow, Mulder."
     Impulsively, Mulder leaned down to kiss Scully's cheek as he exited,
"Thanks for dinner.  Backrub was pretty good, too.  G'night."  Then he was
gone.
     All Scully could do was stare at the closed door, grin, and think
idiotically, "He kissed me."

Atax Construction Warehouse
Hopkinsville, KY
Friday, 1:04 AM

     "You are a sweet little thing aren't you, darlin'?  All that long red hair. 
You're just an adorable little creature."  Anthony Leon Perdoue
approached his latest victim, ten year old Laurie Schweitzer like someone
appraising a piece of meat.  He knelt before her, laying a hand on her
shaking thigh, "You got nothin' to be afraid of, sweet thing.  We're gonna
have alotta fun, you and me.  You'll see."  He hand crept higher, starting to
move in slow circles.  He was starting to get excited so he let his other
hand drift to his crotch and begin to stroke.
    Suddenly Perdoue was stopped in his tracks by the sound of a man's
voice: "Leon, what did I tell you?  Leave the girl alone until Mulder gets
here!  Not before then."
     "Alex, so good of you to join me.  I was just . . . getting acquainted
with my . . . guest."
     "I mean it, Leon.  Leave her alone until I give you permission," Alex
Krychek knew the kind of man he was dealing with and it made his skin
crawl.  He also knew that Leon was a chameleon, easily metamorphasizing
from the backwards hick that he presented to his fellow inmates and to his
victims to the charming gentleman he saw before him now.  Perdoue was
an intelligent misanthrope that Alex knew he should not trust.  But he
wanted to get Mulder and Mulder would be easily lured by the thought of
Leon Perdoue on the loose.
     Several months ago, Alex had begun to form his own group of those
agents that had been used and discarded by the Consortium.  Now that
most of the members had disappeared and the rest gone into hiding, Alex's
dissenters had become the reigning body of misinformation.
     He had decided to put his information to good use: Get revenge on
Mulder.  "If it wasn't for Mulder," Alex thought, "I could have risen to the
very top of the Consortium.  Been set for life." So Alex had used his
influence to help remove Anthony Leon Perdoue; pedophile, rapist,
kidnapper, and murderer, from his incarceration.  This was one of the only
cases the Alex was *sure* Mulder would be on, come hell or highwater. 
When he and his pretty partner showed up in Hopkinsville, Alex would set
the rest of his plan in motion.

Gate 13
Dulles International Airport
6:42 AM

     Scully looked anxiously back through the gate, hoping to see Mulder's
advancing form.  Although he's said they'd meet at six, Scully hadn't seen
hide nor hare of him since the previous evening.  Scully reluctantly boarded
the plane and found her seat.  She kept an eye out for Mulder as she stuffed
her carry-on into the compartment above her seat.  As she turned to sit,
Mulder came jogging up the aisle.
     "Mulder, where've you been?  I've been waiting for more than an hour!"
     "Sorry," he answered shortly.  "My alarm didn't go off, and then I got
stuck in traffic."
     "You could have called and told me you'd be late," Scully said lightly,
knowing Mulder was wound up over the case.
     "I said I was sorry, okay?  What are you anyway, my mother?"
     Scully was hurt.  She was trying to be sensitive to Mulder's feelings
about the case.  But just because it was a tough case, didn't mean he got to
be an asshole.  Scully decided that as soon as they got to the hotel in
Glasgow, KY, they would be having a little chat.  For now she was simply
content to say, "Sure.  Fine.  Whatever."
     Mulder plopped down next to Scully, running ideas through his mind. 
He turned to her, wanting to hear her opinion, but she had her head facing
the window, pointedly ignoring him.
     "Shit," he thought, "What have I don't to piss her off already?"  He
touched her shoulder, "Scully, I've been thinking about Leon Perdoue.  I
don't think he's going to return to his previous crime scenes.  He likes to
conquer new places.  When I first investigated him, he liked to move
around a lot.  I don't know if Glasgow is really going to be of any benefit to
our investigation."
     Scully finally deigned to look back at him, "So where do you think he's
gonna go?"
     "I don't know.  Unfortunately, we may have to wait for some little girl
to go missing before we can act."

Police Headquarters
Glasgow, KY
8:43 AM

     Mulder and Scully looked at the sheriff in disbelief.  "She's been missing
for at *least* two days and you've done next to nothing?" Mulder
exploded, finally.
     "We've started to explore some possibilities," Sheriff Jimmy Glenn
replied, "This is a special case; Laurie runs away all the time and her father
gives less than two shits about her well-being.  Laurie always came back
after a few days, she just wanted to let her daddy cool off."
     "Her father was abusive?" questioned Scully.
     "Well, he has a temper on him and Laurie sure is clumsy sometimes . . ."
the sheriff trailed off as he saw the astonished look he was received from
the two agents.
     Mulder looked at Scully and nodded as she caught his eye, so continued
her line of questioning, "Did Mr. Schweizter beat Laurie?"
     "Just a few to keep her in line, nothing serious."
     "Did you question Mr. Schweitzer as to his whereabouts the past few
days?"
     "Didn't need to.  Scottie's been in the drunk tank since Tuesday.  He got
a little loud about how piss poor his life is."
     "Sheriff, you wouldn't be trying to protect your brother-in-law, now
would you?" Mulder interjected.
     Scully raised her eyebrows at this turn in the questioning.  She had no
idea how Mulder had discovered this information, but she wanted to know
how it would lead to Perdoue's capture.
     Sheriff Glenn glared at Mulder, "Listen here, I do my job with no
favoritism.  You can ask my deputy about Scottie, since he's the one who
arrested him.  Hey, Tilley! Get your ass over here.  The fibbies need to talk
to you."
     A tall, lean man rose from his desk, and walked to where the group was
standing.  "What's up?"  He asked in a barely discernable English accent.
     Sheriff Glenn answered, "The FBI would like to know where Scottie
Schweitzer is and how long he's been there."
     "I arrested Scottie on Tuesday for disorderly conduct.  He's been in the
drunk tank ever since."
     Mulder took an instant liking to the young deputy.  This man was
respectful of the two FBI agents' authority but his intelligent eyes showed
concern at the topic of Mulder's questions.
     "If you don't mind my asking, Agents, why are you so interested in
Scottie Schweitzer?  I thought there was a serial rapist/murderer on the
loose."
     "There is," Mulder replied, "But we still have to investigate every lead
we come across.  I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name, Deputy."
     The blonde man extended his hand, "Darren Tilley, and you are . . . ?"
     "Agents Mulder and Scully," he said as they held their badges out for
inspection.
     "It's a pleasure working with you.  If you need any assistance let me
know.  I want to find Laurie before it's too late."
     Glenn watched the scene before him with his mouth agape.  "Why," he
thought, "was Tilley, his deputy, being shown more courtesy than he?  This
is my investigation and I won't have Tilley stepping all over it.  He'll ruin
everything, and Alex will have my ass in a sling."  Aloud he said, "If 
these fibbies need any help I'll be the one to give it to them."
     Mulder looked at Scully again, surprised by the Sheriff's animosity
towards them and now his own deputy.  Mulder started to open his mouth,
but Scully cut him off, "Sheriff, we'll accept help from any source, but if
you feel that information from your officers need to clear you first, then
we'll work with that arrangement."
     Scully put a hand on Mulder's arm to stop anything detrimental from
being said.  Mulder saw the gesture for what it was: A way to keep Sheriff
Glenn happy.  He and Scully could try to steal some time with the
sympathetic deputy later.
     "Sheriff, we need to start at the beginning.  We're going to go back to
basics," at the Sheriff's insulted look, Mulder hurriedly added, "I'm not
saying you missed anything, but if this *is* Perdoue I may be able to see
the evidence or lack-there-of through his eyes."
     At this, Glenn nodded grateful for the chance to control the flow of
information to the two FBI agents.  He grabbed the case file he'd made up
for them and led the way to an interrogation room.

Interrogation Room B
Glasgow Police Station
11:35 AM

     "Scully," Mulder began, exasperated.
     "I know there's not a lot to go by, but even if it's not Perdoue . . . "
     Mulder cut her off, "It's him, Scully.  I can feel it.  He's changing the
rules to his game.  What I don't understand is the lack of anything
substantial in this file.  Either the Glasgow P.D. is populated with a bunch
of incompetents *or* this report has been seriously tampered with."
     "That's a pretty big stretch."
     "I know, but Deputy Tilley seemed to at least know his ass from a hole
in the ground."
     Scully smiled at that.  "So how do you propose getting us a chance to
talk with him. ALONE," she emphasized.
     "Not us.  You."
     "Excuse me?"
     "You're going to go out to dinner with him."
     "What?!"
     "Scully, the man has the hots for you," Mulder said.
     "Like Frohike?"
     "The man seems harmless enough.  Besides he's a cop, do you actually
think he'd hurt you?"
     "Mulder, not everyone on the police force is as noble as you or have
such honorable intentions either."
     "Are you saying you need a chaperone?"
     "What I'm saying is that we need to be forthright with Deputy Tilley.  It
seemed to me that when we came out with exactly what was going on, he
was much more receptive."
     "Alright, so how do we ask him to disobey his sheriff and come to
dinner with us and have a reasonable exchange of information?  We can't
just go up to him and ask with Glenn around!" Mulder was wound up. 
They needed to find Laurie and Perdoue before it was too late.
     The door opened, and like a gift from above, Deputy Tilley walked in.
     "Just the man we needed to see," began Mulder.
     "I'm glad.  Because I wanted to talk to you." he leaned into the two
agents, "There is more going on here then Jimmy is telling.  He's never
done anything like this before.  I want to help you but I need some
suggestions as to how."
     "Well, is there some place we can meet that Sheriff Glenn won't see
us?" Scully asked.
     "Yeah, there's the club on the other side of town.  It's called Holidays. 
Can we meet there tonight?  Say six o'clock?  We can decide where we're
going with this."

Holidays Nightclub
Glasgow, KY
6:06 PM

     "Do you think he's really going to show up, Mulder?"
     "I hope so.  He seemed pretty eager to help back at the station.  Oh,
wait, I see him coming in the door."
     Deputy Tilley was hard to miss at over six feet tall, taller than Mulder. 
He got right down to business.  "The file you looked at this afternoon was
a fake.  I was there when they collected evidence from Laurie's house. 
There were several things missing from the report you read."
     "Such as?" Mulder prompted.
     "Well, we recovered a Bowie knife and a switchblade that had prints on
them.  Although I don't know whose, since they seem to have disappeared
before they could be dusted.  And there was also a chain with a pendant of
a crescent moon."
     "That's him.  It's Perdoue, his signature.  He wanted me to know that
he'd been there!" Mulder exclaimed.
     "Mulder, are you sure?" Scully inquired, "It couldn't be a copycat?"
     "No. The detail of the pendant was never released to the public.  It was
kept hidden in his file.  Don't you see?  This is the break we've been waiting
for!"
     Tilley broke in, "How are we going to catch this monster without
Jimmy backing us up?"
     Mulder turned to him, "Do you have any idea why Glenn is withholding
evidence?"
     "None.  Like I said, he's never done anything like this before.  Always
been on the straight and narrow."
     "The only thing we *can* do is meet every couple of day, different
locations of course," Scully began.
     "You'll have to keep us informed of any developments the Sheriff
decides to keep from us," Mulder finished her thought and rose, shaking
Tilley's hand.  "Deputy Tilley thank you for your help."
     "It's my pleasure and please call me Darren.  When do we meet next?"
     "How about Wednesday at eleven PM?  I doubt that too much will
happen over the weekend.  Can you suggest a location?" replied Scully.
     "There's a place called 'The Jumpin' Jive Club' in the next town over.  Is
that alright?"
     "It's perfect.  We keep our meeting places all the place, with no pattern. 
See you then."

Mulder's Hotel Room
Roper's Inn
Saturday, 5:18 AM

     "Mulder," he answered the phone groggily.
     "Agent Mulder, this is Sheriff Glenn.  We found Laurie Schweitzer."
     "She's dead, isn't she?"
     "I'm afraid so.  Our local ME has already done an autopsy . . . "
     "Why didn't you call Agent Scully in?  I would've liked to have her in on
this, " Mulder didn't like the Sheriff's nonchalant attitude over the death of
his niece.  "Dammit, Glenn, you need to work *with* us not against us."
     "I don't know what you're all upset about.  I thought we were saving
some time."
     "It doesn't matter now.  Scully and I will be there in a little bit.  I want
all the paperwork ready for us when we get there!"
     Mulder knocked on the door adjoining his room and Scully's.  "Scully?"
he said as he opened it.
     "What is it, Mulder?"
     "We've gotta head to the station.  They found Laurie's body."
     "Do they need me for the autopsy?"
     "No.  It's already been done.  By one of Glenn's men," Mulder
explained.
     "God damn it!  What is with that man?!" Scully exploded.
     "Let's just get dressed and go to the station."

Police Headquarters
Glasgow, KY
5:45 AM

     "It was definitely Perdoue," said Glenn, "Fingerprints on the body
match his and I'm sure the semen we found will match him, too."
     Mulder and Scully exchanged glances.  "May I ask how the body was
discovered?" asked Scully.
     "We got a call from Mrs. Kirmse, Laurie's best friend's mother.  She
was spooked about some noise she heard so I sent an officer over.  Hey,
Mulcahey, you found the body on the porch, right?"  The young officer
nodded.  "And then we brought it back here to be autopsied by Dr.
Biello."
     "Will I be able to speak with her?" Scully asked.
     "I'm afraid not.  After she finished the autopsy, Dr. Biello and her
husband took off on vacation."
     "May we look at her report?"  This time it wasn't a question, but rather
a demand.
     "Certainly, certainly," Glenn seemed almost jovial.  "But first I must tell
you of some other disturbing news."
     "What's that, Sheriff?" Mulder replied.
     "Another young girl has gone missing.  Fourteen year old Samantha
Restrepo.  Her parents had a late night business meeting.  They checked on
her when they came home and found her room empty," Glenn actually
sounded regretful.
     Scully looked at Mulder when they heard the girl's name.  He had paled
some, but held his composure.
     "This Samantha's not the type to run away?" Mulder asked sarcastically.
     Glenn caught his tone and jumped to the defensive, "Listen, Agent
Mulder, I'm doing the best I can with the information I've got."
     "Well you're doing a pretty piss-poor job of it!" Mulder answered,
angrily.
     Scully tugged at Mulder's arm and shook her head.  Mulder took her
cue and said, "Listen, I'm sorry, Sheriff.  I think we're all a little on edge. 
But we're all on the same side right?  Then let's act like it."

Scully's Hotel Room
Roper's Inn
10:13 PM

     After Mulder and Scully had spent the entire day reviewing the
evidence, they were back at the hotel, ready to collapse.  Information that
had been gathered, both from the Restrepo and Kirmse homes had proven
inconclusive, so far.  They looked at the autopsy report; which revealed
that Laurie had been beaten and raped, like the other victims.  But the odd
thing was that although there were several different samples of semen
found, only Perdoue's had been positively identified.
     "Scully, this doesn't make any sense," Mulder said as he flopped on
Scully's bed, next to her. "Perdoue just isn't this sloppy; even if he wanted
me to know it was him.  He's far too subtle."
     Scully looked at Mulder, taking in his state of agitation.  She knew he
was bothered by this case, and even as he bounced ideas off of her, Scully
knew that Mulder was trying to distance himself, both from her and his
emotions.
     "Mulder, are you okay?"
     He looked up, surprised at the question.  "Scully, I'm . . . " he started. 
Then he thought about how he hated hearing those two words from her
-"I'm fine."- So instead he decided to be honest.  Mulder looked away as he
began, softly, "When I heard the name of the girl who was kidnapped . . .
for a second I couldn't breathe.  It was like my sister had been taken all
over again.  I don't know why it hit me so hard.  I usually don't fall apart
over a name . . . "
     Scully reached to catch Mulder's hand.  "Mulder, it doesn't matter why. 
It only matters that you *are* affected by this case.  I'm glad that you
finally let me in."  She leaned over to hug him and saw unshed tears
glistening in his eyes.
     The moment was broken by the ringing of Mulder's cell phone.
     "Mulder," he said, ever the FBI agent.  Mulder listened for a few
moments, then hung up.
     "Who was that, Mulder?"
     "I don't know.  They used a voice scrambler. They said to meet them at
2111 City Point Drive.  And that they have information about Perdoue and
I should come ALONE," he emphasized.
     "Mulder, you're not going to meet some mysterious informant with no
back up!"
     "Scully, if he has information that could lead us to Perdoue, then I've
gotta go!  I can't let this chance slip past!"  And he was out the door before
she could protest any further.

2111 City Point Drive
Glasgow, KY
10:41 PM

     Mulder had found the address without any trouble and now looked up
at what appeared to be an old construction site.  He got out of his car and
look around, warily.  He knew Scully was right:  he shouldn't have come
alone.  But if this was the real deal, he wouldn't see his informant unless he
was alone.
     Out of nowhere, Mulder felt something metallic slam into his ribs.  All
the breath went out of him as he tried to grab his gun.  But before he had a
solid hold, Mulder saw his gun being kicked away.  He tried to stand up
straight, but a blow to his knees prevented it.  Mulder caught his breath and
tried again; he needed to see his opponent or opponents in order to fight
them.  Finally upright, Mulder looked into the eyes of his assailant.
     "You son of a bitch!" Mulder growled, in a low voice.
     "Nice to see you, too, Mulder!" Krychek said, nonchalantly.
     Mulder drew his fist back, ready to fight again.
     "Billy, Andy, hold him!"
     Mulder's arms were pinned behind him as Krychek leaned in, "Mulder,
Mulder, Mulder.  You have not been a very good FBI agent.  You couldn't
save little Laurie.  And now that SAMANTHA," he stressed, "is counting
on you, you're gonna let her down, too.  I wonder what would happen if
we took Scully?  Would you be more inclined to find the perpetrator, I
wonder?"
     "Leave Scully alone, you sick bastard!" Mulder thundered.
     Krychek wrapped a long piece of chain around his hand and backed up. 
"Just think of this as incentive to find us as soon as possible."
     Krychek took the chain and began using it as a whip.  Each blow struck
Mulder's chest with enough force to knock the wind out of him.  After
several blows, Mulder finally succumbed to the oblivion of
unconsciousness.

Parking Lot D
Roper's Inn
Sunday, 12:59 AM

     Mulder shook his head groggily.  He looked around, trying to figure out
how he'd made it from the construction site to what appeared to be the
parking lot of the hotel.  Mulder tried to stand up but found that he could
only make it to his hands and knees.
     "Okay," he thought to himself, "At least I'm mobile."
     He began crawling his way towards Scully's room, stopping every few
feet to catch his breath.  The way his ribs were feeling, he was sure they
were broken.  At last he was in front of the entrance; to what Mulder was
sure to be Heaven.  He sat back against the frame and knocked as hard as
his aching body would allow.
     Scully opened the door almost immediately and Mulder had no time to
compose himself.
     "Mulder, my God!  What happened?"  Scully bent down to support the
bloodied Mulder as he stood.
     "I guess you were right, Scully.  I shouldn't have gone without any
backup."
     Scully guided him to her bed, "Don't move!" she directed.
     "No problem there, Scully," Mulder said drily.
     Scully rummaged around in her bag, the, realizing why it was so hard to
see, she reached up and flipped on the light.  She glanced over at Mulder,
who was squinting in the sudden brilliance, and winced.  Mulder caught the
look.
     "That bad, huh Scully?"
     Scully didn't answer, but continued to take out the supplied she needed. 
She looked again at Mulder and for the first time saw the bloodstains
soaking his dress shirt.
     "Mulder, you're gonna need to take your shirt off," she said returning to
her task.
     "You coming on to me, Scully?"
     Scully managed a small laugh.  When she turned to assess his condition,
Mulder was still fully dressed.  "Mulder?  Shirt?"
     "I think I'm gonna need some help with that."
     "What do you mean?"
     "My left arm won't move, Scully."
     When she inspected his shoulder, Scully realized it had been dislocated
and she informed Mulder as much.  "I'm gonna have to put your shoulder
back into the socket.  I need you to brace yourself against the head board." 
Scully climbed up behind Mulder as she talked.  "I'm going to pull your arm
back into place.  And it's going to hurt.  A LOT."
     "Scully, have you ever done this before?" Mulder asked.
     "Yep," she said, grabbing his arm.  "Once, in Med school."  Without
warning Scully yanked Mulder's arm hard and fast into its proper position.
     Mulder sucked in his breath and let out a low moan, but that was all. 
He showed no other signs of distress.  Although it was typical of Mulder
not to complain about pain, this was different.  Scully was surprised at how
quiet he was.  He was giving away nothing of what had happened. 
Something was wrong.
     "Mulder, look at me: Do you know where you are?"
     "We're in your hotel room in Glasgow, Kentucky.  And we're trying to
recapture Anthony Leon Perdoue.  I just got my ass kicked by Alex
Krychek and his goons, who are, most likely, working in concert with
Perdoue," Mulder knew that Scully thought he had gone into shock, but
he hadn't.  He simply wasn't in the mood to have Scully go into her
"mommy" mode.
     "Alex Krychek is in on this?"
     "Yes.  He may be the one directing this whole operation," Mulder
explained.  "I think we need to reassess how we're investigating this case,
Scully . . . "
     "We can do that in the morning.  Right now, I need to get your shirt
off."
     Scully pulled his shirt from his pants and began unbuttoning it.  As she
made her way up the shirt, her breath caught in her throat.  "In any other
situation," she thought, "this would be incredibly romantic.  In fact, this
would probably be considered foreplay." Scully felt herself flush.  "This is
neither the time nor the place, *Agent* Scully," she admonished herself.
     When she reached to top, Mulder took her hand.  "Thank you," he said,
sincerely.
     "What for?  I haven't even done anything, yet."
     "I know.  Just . . . thank you."
     Scully opened Mulder's shirt and slipped it off his shoulders.  When she
saw what lay underneath, she gasped.  The violence of the beating Mulder
had received was revealed:  A nasty bruise had started to form on his right
side, and another across his lower back, near his kidneys.  Red marks, some
breaking the skin, lined his chest.
     "Oh, Mulder," she started, but couldn't finish.  Instead she began to
cover his wounds with antibacterial goop and gauze.
     Twenty minutes later, Mulder's torso resembled that of a pharaoh's body
being prepared for burial.  Scully turned away from her handiwork and
attempted to rein in her emotions.  She had long ago come to the
conclusion that she didn't want to live without the man who sat behind her. 
Too many times she had come *so* close to losing him.  Scully
remembered the feeling she'd had four years ago when she thought Mulder
was dead.  She'd nearly come apart.  Thinking about how close she'd come
to losing him again made Scully cringe.  Almost against her will, Scully's
shoulders began to heave silently.
     Mulder was shocked.  Scully rarely let her emotions get the better of
her, and she almost never let him see her upset.  He reached out his good
arm to touch the small of her back.  His place.  Right from the beginning,
Scully had trusted him enough to allow him this intimacy.
     "Scully?" he said softly.  When she didn't answer, Mulder pulled his
injured body off the bed and wrapped his arm around his partner.
     "Mulder, don't.  You should be resting," Scully said, trying to disguise
the tears in her voice.
     Mulder didn't say anything, just continued to hold Scully to him.  Se
seemed to relax in his embrace, and eventually turned to face him.  When
azure eyes met hazel, Mulder could no longer control all that he felt for the
woman he held.  He leaned down and tenderly brushed his lips across
Scully's.
     For a moment, Scully didn't move.  She simply enjoyed the sensation. 
When Mulder broke the contact, Scully sighed and reached up to draw him
close again.  Their lips met again and Scully was lost in the oblivion of
Mulder's touch.
     Mulder groaned when he came up for air.  As much as he wanted this,
he was in no condition.  Still, he bent down once again, to capture her lips. 
Scully heard the whimper and it jarred her back to reality.
     "Mulder, no.  We can't . . . I . . . You're hurt . . . You're not thinking
straight," Scully knew damn well that what she was saying was a lie, but
now was not the time to deal with semantics.
    "Scully . . . I . . . lo . . ."
     "In the morning, Mulder.  When I can rely on both our judgements."
     "But Scully, we *need* to talk about this.  It's been more than a year
since . . . "
     "I know," she said.  "But right now is not the time and it's definitely not
the place."
     "When?  When will it ever be right?" Mulder replied angrily.
     "I don't know," Scully said, sadly.  She gently pushed him back on the
bed.  "But you need rest, Mulder.  We'll talk about it in the morning."

Scully's Hotel Room
Roper's Inn
6:14 AM

     Mulder jerked away in pain from the hand that touched his chest.  He
tried to pull away, but the agony *that* caused made him change his mind. 
Instead he tried to identify who was lying next to him.  To Mulder's
amazement, the hand now resting on his uninjured shoulder belonged to
Scully.
     Sometime during the night, she must have slipped in next to him rather
than sleep in the uncomfortable-looking chair he'd last seen her in.  Mulder
turned his head to face Scully.  Stroking her cheek, he murmured, "Why
are you fighting this, Scully?  Why are you fighting *me*?" he paused, "I
love you," he finished tenderly.
     Scully held herself still as Mulder professed his love.  She had always
suspected he felt this way, and she'd long ago admitted her feelings to
herself.  But she never thought she'd hear him admit the same.
     Mulder rolled away from Scully and pulled himself to a standing
position.  A dizzy spell and a wave of nausea fought for his attention as he
stumbled to the bathroom.  He barely made it before the contents of his
stomach came up.  Scully heard the commotion and was quickly up and
knocking on the door.
     "Mulder are you alright?"
     "I'm fine," he said wheezily.  "I'm just gonna hop in the shower.  Could
you get me some clean clothes from my suitcase?"
     Scully made the decision to leave him be, but warned, "I'm gonna have
to change those bandages when you're done.  And your shoulder needs to
be immobilized."
     She heard a noise that could be construed as giving his assent.  As she
heard the water begin to run, Scully went to the adjoining room and picked
out a comfortable looking suit.  Returning to her room, she planned her
own outfit for the day.
     It was only a few minutes before the water was turned off.  Scully
waited a couple more before knocking once again and saying, "Can I come
in?"
     When she received no answer, Scully didn't hesitate to enter, regardless
of Mulder's state of undress.  What she found on the other side was not
what she expected:  Mulder sat, slumped, on the toilet, a towel across his
lap for some modesty.
     "Mulder?"
     He looked at her, dejected.
     "What's the matter, Mulder?"
     "After the shower, I kind of ran out of energy.  I, uh, got dizzy so I sat
down before I passed out," Mulder peeked at Scully, even more
embarrassed.
     "Why didn't you just call for me?" Scully asked.
     Mulder shrugged, "I don't know."
     Scully heaven an aggravated sigh, "Fine.  Let's get you out on to the
bed.  It's gotta be more comfortable than that," she pointed at his "throne."
     "How do you propose to do that?" Mulder indicated his lack of proper
attire.
     "You seem to forget, Mulder; I've seen you in less than a bath towel. 
But if you want to spare me that wonderful sight . . . " Scully couldn't
believe what she'd just said, and Mulder simply grinned at her flustered
face.  Trying to cover herself, she continued, "Take your good arm and
use my shoulder for leverage.  I'll keep your towel in place until you're
standing."  After a few mis-starts, they eventually made it to the bed.
     "Scully, can I have my boxers?"
     She handed Mulder the shorts and stood there, staring.
     "Do you mind turning around while I do this?"
     "Are you sure, Mulder?"
     "Yeah, I think I can handle it."  After wriggling around for several,
pain-filled minutes, Mulder was finally clad in his navy blue boxers.
     "You can turn around now, Scully."
     "Mulder, you're in no condition to go to work.  We'll call Sheriff Glenn
and tell him to send reports here.  I'll try to get a hold of Tilley so he can
keep his eyes open." Scully didn't give Mulder a chance to protest as she
continued her next line of thinking.  "Did you bring any sweat pants?"
     "Sweat pants?" he asked.  "What for?"
     "For you to wear.  Unless you want to run around in your boxers all
day."
     "Not particularly.  There should be a pair in my bag.  And a t-shirt if
we're not going to the station."
     Scully rolled her eyes as she walked back to Mulder's room.  He acted
like a little kid who tricked his mother into letting him stay home from
school, sick.  She returned to her room, thinking that the next few days
were going to be very long.  Especially since Mulder hated to be cooped
up.

The Jumpin' Jive Club
Hopkinsville, KY
Wednesday, 11:21 PM

     Mulder glanced around the room, impatient.  "Where the hell is Tilley?"
he thought, irritated.  This was the first time he'd been out of that damn
hotel room in three days.  Though his shoulder and ribs still bothered him,
Mulder was otherwise healed.  He was, however, slightly annoyed that
Scully was taking so long in the bathroom.  Then he thought, "Maybe she's
not feeling well.  After all she's been taking care of me the past few days." 
He felt something nagging at the back of his mind; suddenly he realized
what was wrong: They hadn't been at the bar more than twenty minutes
before Scully had excused herself after she'd downed three glasses of root
beer.  Someone working with Krychek could have easily slipped any
number of drugs into her soda.
     Mulder began to shove his way towards the ladies' restroom.  When he
got inside, it was deserted, which was odd in and of itself.  Looking
around, frantically, Mulder's rational side began searching for evidence, any
sign that she'd even been in there.  The answer he sought was found next to
the garbage bin: A small gold cross on a matching gold chain.  Mulder
could only assume that Scully had had the presence of mind to slip off the
talisman to aid him in finding her.
     Mulder threw the cross around his own neck and ran to the parking lot,
hoping to catch up to the men who took Scully.  "If Krychek lays one hand
on Scully, I will personally pull his balls up through his throat," was the last
coherent thought Mulder had before he blacked out from the force of a
blow to his head.

Sub-basement
Atax Construction Warehouse
Thursday, 1:01 AM

     Slowly, Mulder became aware of a pounding in his head.  Yet, he was
able to quickly deduce what had happened at the bar.  Trusting that
opening his eyes would not, in fact kill him, he found himself clad only in a
pair of sweat pants.  Looking around, he saw drab green-grey walls
surrounding him, except for the wall directly in front of him, which was
almost entirely a mirror.  Before he could begin the contemplate what that
was for, a loud, disembodied voice filled the room.
     "Agent Mulder, so nice of you to join us.  I'm sorry for our methods in
bringing you here, but quite frankly, you were taking to long to find us."
     "Krychek, is that you?" Mulder demanded.
     "Ahh, yes, right again, Mulder.  Now before you can even start asking
your question I'll answer the ones that *I* believe to be the most pertinent.
     "Number one: Little Samantha is still in with her host.   Number two:
Your friend Leon is here with me, Billy and Andy, as well.  I've got a lot of
friends here to help me with my plans.  So you can rest assured that you'll
be staying in your present accommodations for quite awhile.
     "And Number three: Yes, Agent Scully is here as well.  She's in the
room next to yours and I believe you'll be seeing her soon."
     "Goddamn it Krychek!  What the hell do you want?" Mulder shouted.
     "Revenge.  Pure and simple.  And by taking my revenge out on Scully, I
get the sweetest revenge on you," his voice faded out.
     "What do you mean? Krychek?  KRYCHEK!!!???"  Mulder could only
beat his pillow helplessly, as the silence engulfed him.

Mulder's Cell
Atax Construction Warehouse
1:52 AM

     Mulder stared at him semi-nude body in the mirror, disgustedly.  There
were still discolored patches and jagged red lines covering his torso.  "I
couldn't even keep myself out of harm.  How the hell am I supposed to get
both Scully and me out of this?" he questioned himself.
     As he stared in the mirror the reflection seemed to change.  The room
was the same but now he saw Scully.  Mulder shook his head, but the
image remained, and it struck him suddenly that he was looking through a
two-way mirror.  Taking a chance, he knocked on the glass to get Scully's
attention.  To his amazement, she turned to look at him.  She was wearing
a thin, cotton nightshirt that barely reached her knees.
     "Scully, are you alright?"
     "Yeah, I'm fine.  Whatever they gave me was pretty powerful.  I'm still a
little fuzzy on everything that happened."
     "Me too," Mulder admitted.  "Scully, Krychek is here.  He says he
wants to get revenge.  He wants to get at me through you.  We both need
to keep our guards up, understand?"
     "Do you honestly think I would let my guard down after being
kidnapped, obviously stripped, and put into a thin nightgown and little
else?"
     Mulder chuckled ruefully as Scully's words sank in and his damned
photographic memory took him back to the Antarctic.
     "Mulder?" came Scully's voice.
     "Hmm, oh, what?"
     "Do you have any idea how we're going to get out of here?"
     "Not really.  The walls look like they're made of steel and this mirror is
probably bullet-proof.  There's not much around to use as weapons."  For
the next few moments, they bounced ideas off each other, trying to
discover a way out.  Suddenly a door opened in Scully's cell and in walked
Anthony Leon Perdoue along with several of his cohorts.
     In Mulder's room, Krychek's voice filled the air, "I wanted to wait until
you were both awake before I put my plan into action.  Watch carefully,
Agent Mulder.  I want you to remember every detail of this evening's
festivities."
     Mulder watched in horror as Perdoue took the lead in fondling Scully's
breasts.  Scully stood stoically, not moving or making a sound.  She
wouldn't give Perdoue the satisfaction, but it was growing harder to ignore
the fear that shouted in her head: "THEY'RE GOING TO RAPE ME!" 
Then another part of her psyche joined in, "But FBI agents don't get
raped!"  Then the logical side chimed in, "Rape can happen to anybody." 
She stifled a cry as her nightgown was torn from her body, leaving her
completely naked.
     Scully was vaguely aware of Mulder's wrenching cry of, "NO!! You
BASTARDS!!! Goddamn it, you MOTHER FUCKERS, NO!!!!!"  And
then the sound of what could only be Mulder pounding on the glass that
separated them.  Scully felt herself being lifted, presumably to the stiff bed
she'd awoken on just a few short minutes ago.  Then, her legs were thrust
unceremoniously apart.  She managed to turn her head to lock eyes with
Mulder as she felt the first enter her.  
     Somehow Mulder knew what Scully's silent message meant: "Stay with
me.  I need you to be my lifeline."  Mulder sure as hell wasn't going to let
her down.  He could hold on; he wouldn't turn away from her when she
needed him the most.  Mulder's tears cascaded down his face; for all
the times he'd been beaten, shot, or hospitalized, he'd never felt the kind of
pain he felt at this moment.  Not even when Samantha was taken, the
thought flitted across his mind, but he didn't take time to analyze it.  All his
concentration lay in absorbing the scene before him.  One by one each man
had a turn with Scully, Perdoue a second, and at last it was over.  The
mirror became a reflection of himself again.  Mulder let himself fade into
oblivion, as he felt the needle sink into his arm.

Sub-basement
Atax Construction Warehouse
3:26 AM

     The men left Scully's cell, leaving behind a few towels, a wash basin,
and a sweat suit.  As soon as they were gone, Scully tried to rid herself of
the unclean feeling she had.  She knew it was a psychological response, and
logically, she also knew that it wasn't her fault.  "But," she thought
to herself, "I didn't fight very hard.  I just shut down.  Mulder must be so
ashamed of me."
     The moment she finished dressing, a pair of men came into the room,
blindfolded her, and led her out the door.  They walked her in a twisting,
winding path and finally shoved her through a door.  The room was almost
completely dark and Scully could see that there was no furniture here.  So
she sat in the corner, knees drawn up to her chest, arms around them, her
face buried in her lap.

Sub-basement
Atax Construction Warehouse
3:37 AM

     Mulder awakened once again to a pounding in his head, but this time
there was no bright light to greet him when he opened his eyes. Cautiously,
he stood up and began to feel his way around the room.  As he walked he
was soon able to discern a figure in the far corner.  Mulder was almost on
top of her before he realized it was Scully.  He knelt down in front of her
and gently placed his hands over hers.
     Scully, thinking Leon or one of his goons had come back, promptly
kicked him in the groin.  The man in front of her reeled back, wheezing. 
She got to her feet, prepared to attack again, if needs be.  After a moment
she heard, "Scully, it's me, it's Mulder," he gasped out.  And as the
crumpled shadow at her feet rose up, she could finally make out his
features.
     Her knees buckled and everything swirled, Scully couldn't face him, not
now.  But then she heard her name, "Scully, Scully?  No!  You gotta stay
with me, Scully!"
     Scully didn't *want* to stay awake, she *wanted* to float away from
the madness and the pain of the last few hours but that voice persisted,
"Scully you can't run away from me . . . from this," a pause, "Dana . . . you
can't hide," and when that didn't work she felt his palm jar her back to
reality.
     Scully focused on Mulder's face as she reacclimated herself.  Somehow
they were both still standing; Mulder's right hand on the small of her back,
pressing them close together, his left brushing the hair from her face.
     "Scully . . . I need you to talk to me.  Are you okay?"
     Scully waited a few moments before answering.  She felt safe here with
Mulder.  Just his physical presence was enough to calm her.  She took a
deep breath, "I'm fine, Mulder."
     "WHAT?!" Mulder was incredulous.
     "I'm fine.  I was able to wash up and I got these clothes.  I'm alright.
     Mulder grimaced, knowing full well that Scully was not "alright."  But
now was not the time to get into her head and play psychologist.  "Okay. 
We need to figure out how to get the hell out of here without being killed."
Mulder changed the subject so quickly that Scully's brain froze for a
second.
     "Mulder, we're locked in."
     "How do you know?"
     "Think about it, Mulder: What would the point be in keeping us
prisoner in an unlocked room?"
     "But did you hear them lock the door?" insisted Mulder.
     "Well, um, no," admitted Scully.
     Mulder crossed the room and juggled the handle.
     "It seems to be open," he said raising on his tiptoes to see out the
stereotypical barred window on the door.  Outside he saw two men.  They
appeared to be part of the group that had raped Scully.  The men were
engrossed in the Gameboys they held, apparently they were playing each
other.
     "Scully, there are only two guards.  You and I could take them."
     "Mulder, don't you think they'll be armed?" she pointed out.
     "You and I against those two goofs is a no-brainer," Mulder retorted. 
"Come on Scully.  We can't just wait for them to magically let us go."
     "Alright," Scully relented.  "You take the one on the left, I'll take the
one on the right."
     Mulder slowly opened the door.  He motioned to Scully that they
should go for the guns holstered behind the men's backs.  After a brief
scuffle, the two agents had the men on their knees begging.
     The taller of the two looked at Scully.  "Hey, dollface!  How'd ya like
another roll in the hay? Yours was the best pussy I've had in a long time.  I
know you liked it, too. Come on how's about it?"  Scully's gun wavered as
the man taunted her with his insinuations.
     Mulder, still within earshot, but down the hall a bit from Scully's
position, turned to see the tall man rising.  The man's hands danced around
Scully's waist.  The man at Mulder's feet used the distraction to his
advantage and punched Mulder in the stomach.  Mulder went down and the
short man ran to the aid of his buddy.  The man didn't make it more than
two feet before the back of his head was blown apart by his own weapon. 
Mulder was up and running.  When he had the shot he took it, and bright
red blossomed on the tall man's chest.
     Scully looked at Mulder as he finally reached her, "He said . . . I . . .     
I . . . "
     "I heard what he said and it's not true.  Do you hear me?" Mulder began
pulling her down the hallway as he talked.  "The next bastard who says that
to you, you can shoot.  Are you listening to me, Scully?"
     "Yes," she said faintly.
     "Good.  Now tell me what you're gonna do the next time someone says
that to you?"
     "Shoot them?" she asked.
     "That's right.  You'll shoot them."
     Scully, realizing the absurdity of an FBI agent shooting a perp simply
for insulting her, began to laugh.  They turned a corner and ran right into
Leon Perdoue.
     "My dear agents, how nice of you to join me.  Especially you, Miss
Scully.  Aren't you looking *fabulous* in that outfit.  Are you ready for
another romp?"
     "Perdoue, you son of a bitch!  Get the hell away from her!" Mulder
swung as he vented his pent up anger.
     Unarmed, Leon Perdoue was no match for Mulder's grief.  With his first
shot, Mulder broke Perdoue's nose.  With the second, Perdoue was on the
ground.  By the fifth, he was begging for mercy.  At the tenth, he was no
longer begging.
     But Mulder, in a haze of anger and pain and regret, continued to
pummel Perdoue's lifeless body.  "You son of a bitch!  You goddamn
bastard!  How could you?  How could you do that to her?  She's my best
friend, you bastard!!  You *FUCKING BASTARD* how could you?!?!"
Tears streamed down his face as Mulder's venom blew itself out.
     He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Scully staring at him,
shocked.
     "Scully, I . . . " he reached for her.
     She stepped back, "Mulder, you . . . he's . . . Mulder why?"
     "After what he did to you?  You can still ask me why?  When he
threatened you again, I just snapped."  He reached for her again.  This time
she accepted his hand, but only for a minute.
     "Mulder, can we get out of here, please?"

Scully's Hotel Room
Roper's Inn
7:18 PM

     Scully looked at herself in the bathroom mirror.  She could see all the
bruises forming from the events of yesterday and today.
     She and Mulder had spent all day at the Glasgow Police Station filing
their report.  Unfortunately, while Perdoue and Krychek held them captive,
the body of Samantha Restrepo had been found.  Mulder had not taken the
news well, and when they'd gotten back to their rooms, he'd slunk inside,
content to be alone.
     Scully left the bathroom and entered the small sleeping area.  It had
gotten dark in the time she'd spent trying to relax with a bubblebath.  Now
her room was pitch black.  She leaned over to turn the lamp on when she
felt a hand on her back.  Not thinking, only reacting, Scully turned and
threw a cross in the general vicinity of where the body would be.  She
connected with something and moved to illuminate her "assailant."
     When she looked around, she found her would-be attacker doubled
over, grabbing his ribs. "Mulder?"
     "Yeah," he gasped.  "Who'd you think it was?"
     "Not you."
     "No kidding.  I came over to see how you were doing.  I needed to cool
down a bit before we talked," Mulder explained.
     "Who said I wanted to talk?" Scully asked.
     "No one.  I just thought . . . "
     "Mulder, I'm fine," she turned her back.
     "Bullshit."
     Scully turned around, stunned, "Excuse me?"
     "That bullshit and you know it.  You are NOT 'fine.'  You were ready to
beat the hell out of me because I touched you.  You . . . Are . . . NOT . . .
FINE."
     Scully actually took a step back from Mulder, but he followed.
     "Scully, you aren't gonna bottle this up inside.  I won't let you," Mulder
said a bit more gently.
     Scully pushed him away.  She wasn't ready to talk about this, not with
Mulder. *Especially* not with Mulder.  She turned away, again, the
shameful memories flooded back.  She felt Mulder's hands on her shoulders
and she tensed before she could stop herself.
     "Scully, don't," he removed his hands when he felt her muscles stiffen
and she missed the warmth they gave.  "Scully," he started again, "I want
to help, but you can't shut me out.  Let me help you . . . Please," Mulder
practically begged.
     Scully suddenly became angry.  This was *her* life, she didn't have to
*share* with anyone.  Not even Mulder.  She didn't want his pity.  She
burst out, "What do you want to know, Mulder?  Do you want to hear all
the gory details?  Do you want to know what it feels like to be raped?"
Scully's voice raised with each question, "do you want to hear me say that
it's humiliating, degrading, and revolting?  You scared the hell out of me
when you touched me simply because you're a man.  I HATE how that
feels.  I HATE the fact that you saw me humiliated.  Is that what you want
to hear?"  Scully had begun to hit his chest as she ranted.
     Mulder absorbed the blows, not caring is his wounds were
reaggravated.  His tears fell, not from physical pain, but from the anguish
Scully was expressing.  He caught her hands, finally stilling her.
     He pulled her close, and they sank to the bed.  Again she tensed when
Mulder's arms came around her.  She tried to stop before Mulder would
notice.  He didn't seem to and continued to hold her.  Scully's sobs filled
the small room, "I was afraid of you," she choked out.
     "Scully, I'm sorry.  You know I'd never hurt you.  I'm sorry," he said
again.
     When her sobs ceased, Scully answered Mulder, "I *do* know that you
wouldn't hurt me.  In my heart I know that.  I trust you, Mulder.  I just that
my head is slightly messed up."
     Scully pressed her head against Mulder's bare chest for a moment.  She
felt something cool and metallic brush against her cheek.  At the same
instant, Mulder realized he was still wearing Scully's cross.
     Scully reached up to hold the necklace.  Her eyes filled again as she
breathed, "Mulder, my cross . . . where did you find it?"
     "It was in the Ladies Room at the 'Jumpin Jive Club,' he said somewhat
shortly.
     "But you're wearing it.  Why are you wearing it?" then Scully thought
for a moment, "You wore it before, didn't you?  When I was gone.  Mulder
did you wear my necklace when I was taken?"
     "Yes," said Mulder, blushing.  He was embarrassed.  He never told her
about it, but now seemed as good a time as any.  "It was the only way I
could feel close to you.  It gave me hope that we would find you alive," he
admitted.
     "I didn't know," Scully said simply.  She let Mulder hold her for a few
more minutes before she spoke again.  "Mulder, I need to tell you
something."
     "You can tell me anything, Scully."
     She pulled away and turned her head.  Mulder had to strain to hear her
voice as she began, "Mulder, last night . . . when Perdoue," she struggled
to get the words out, "When he and the others . . . raped me . . . Before
last night . . . I'd never . . . " At that point, Scully's voice got even softer as
she said the words, "Until last night I was . . . a . . . virgin."
     Mulder felt the anger well up inside of him again as he thought of what
Perdoue had taken from Scully.  He took a deep breath, but before he
could begin, Scully started talking again.
     "That was probably the biggest thing my parents wanted us to
remember: 'No sex before marriage.'  I never kidded myself.  I knew that I
probably would have sex before I got married.  But I did promise myself
that I wouldn't sleep with someone I didn't love.  I mean Jack and I,"
Mulder cringed at the name, but took Scully's hand as she continued. "Jack
wanted to, but I wasn't ready.  And I wasn't in love with him.  And then
last night . . . "
     Here Mulder broke in, "Last night was not sex and it was nowhere near
making love, Scully.  What Perdoue and the others did to you was
violence, pure and simple.  You know that.
     "When you do sleep with someone, someone you love . . . When you
make love with that person, you'll know how special it really can be." 
Mulder looked away then, knowing Scully would be able to read the
emotions in his eyes if he didn't.  And right now she didn't need to deal
with his inadequacies.
     "I should go back to my room.  I'm, uh, really tired," he yawned to
demonstrate.  Mulder squeezed Scully's hand before he got up and headed
to the door.
     "Mulder will you stay with me?"
     He stopped.  "Are you sure?"
     "I trust you, Mulder."

One Week Later
Alexandria, VA
Thursday, 7:45 PM

     Scully walked down the hall to Mulder's apartment.  This was the
moment she'd both longed for and dreaded.  They had to discuss what
happened in Kentucky; previous to the rape and it's aftermath, she knew
that.  Mulder knew it, too.  But they couldn't seem to get together.  She'd
called him everyday, but he refused to return her calls.  She'd finally gotten
up enough nerve to confront him.
     She hadn't seen Mulder since they'd gotten back from Glasgow.  Scully
had needed the time to herself; to think, to collect herself and her feelings. 
She was still coping with the consequence of the rape, but she had taken on
the philosophy of "physician heal thyself."  She hadn't told anyone, not
even her mother.  The only people who knew were Mulder and Skinner.
     Slowly, Scully was coming to terms with the rape.  But she was still
worried that Mulder was disappointed in her and that that was the reason
why he hadn't contacted her.  The thoughts swirled inside her head as
Scully knocked on the door to Mulder's apartment.  After a moment
with no answer, she knocked a little louder.  Still no answer, so Scully got
out her keys and entered the room.
     She was completely unprepared for what she found.  The room was
almost completely dark, save for the small desk lamp by the window. 
Scully could just barely make out Mulder's slumped form on the couch. 
"Mulder?"
     He mumbled something, but Scully couldn't make out the words.
     "Mulder, we need to talk . . . "
     "Please leave," this time the message was loud and clear.
     "Mulder don't shut me out," she moved to take his hand.
     "Don't touch me.  Just leave me alone."
     Scully leaned over to turn on the lights.  Mulder, for his part, tried to
shrink back into the shadows, not looking at Scully's worried countenance.
     "Mulder look at me.  Please . . . " Scully's voice trailed off as he slowly
raised his lashes.
     She was shocked by the haunted look in her partner's eyes when they
finally glanced up and met her own.  For a second, she couldn't speak,
afraid her emotions would take control.  As she looked at Mulder, tears she
hoped he wouldn't see, began to form behind her eyes, threatening to slip
down her cheeks and betray her poorly hidden feelings.
     When Scully was, at last, able to speak, it was in a low, hushed tone,
"Mulder . . . " she looked again at Mulder's face.  He looked like he'd aged
ten years in the week since she'd last seen him.  The worry lines splayed
across his features, by his eyes, the corners of his mouth.
     She leaned over to him, wanting smooth his gentle features.  As her
hands made contact with his brow, Scully felt her partner relax.  While she
continued, slowly she saw his walls break down; her actions touched a part
of Mulder that had been precariously holding his own emotions in place. 
As her gentle caress unhurriedly made its way across his face, tears began
to stream down it.
     If his actions startled her, Scully didn't show it.  She simply continued
her touch therapy, occasionally wiping away his tears with her thumbs. 
After several long minutes, Scully decided to try to break the silence. 
Truth to be told, Mulder's ceaseless crying was starting to worry her. 
Finally she met his eyes once again and quietly asked, "Mulder, what's
wrong?  When you didn't return my phone calls, I got worried," she paused
waiting for a response.  "I can't help you if you don't let me in."  The
tenderness and genuine caring in Scully's voice moved Mulder so much that
the remaining control he had on his emotions slipped away.  He didn't want
her to see him like this.  But his tears flowed freely and huge sobs wracked
his body.
     Scully reached across the remaining distance to her partner, gathering
him in loving arms.  For a moment, he resisted, and she understood why.  It
had been a long time since he'd allowed anyone this far into his world. 
Afraid for himself and those around him of what might happen if he got too
close to them.  As it was Scully knew the guilt he carried around inside of
him for not being able to save Samantha when they were children.
     With a start, it hit Scully.  She understood  Mulder's uncontrollable
grief: It was the anniversary of Samantha's disappearance.  Twenty-five
years since she'd been taken away, inexplicably.  And just last week when
Scully herself was held hostage had been the anniversary of when she'd
been returned, four years ago, with no explanation to the hospital in
Georgetown.  Perdoue's case must have triggered memories of Samantha's
and her own abductions, Scully surmised.
     Mulder tightened his embrace, he didn't want to let Scully go.  For a
brief moment, he'd thought she'd been abducted again when Krychek and
Perdoue had held them hostage.  After Antarctica, Mulder had vowed to
himself that he wouldn't let Scully be taken from him again.  "Didn't take
too long to break *that* promise," he berated himself.
     When Mulder had been forced to take medical leave, he'd had too much
time on his hands.  The time had been spent mostly thinking about Scully
and Samantha.  They were so similar.  Yet he didn't really know Samantha
anymore, he only knew the little girl, not the woman she might have
become.  But all the same, they were the only two women he'd allowed
himself to love.
     Having to watch as Scully was raped had nearly undone him.  Scully
had been hurt in so many ways because of him.  He didn't know why she
stayed, but he wasn't going to let his damn "mission" destroy the woman
he'd fallen in love with.
     Suddenly, he pushed Scully away.  Brushing his tears away fiercely, he
said, "You should go, Scully."
     "Mulder, why?  We need to talk," she answered.
     "About what?  How I keep hurting you?  About how I couldn't stop
those men from raping you?  About how I wasn't there when Duane Barry
kidnapped you?  WHAT do we need to TALK ABOUT?"
     Scully was stunned at the fury she heard in Mulder's voice.  Even more
shocking to her was the fact that Mulder's wrath seemed to be directed at
himself.  "Does he think I *blame* him?" she thought.
     Scully took his hand and held it tight while he continued his deliberate
avoidance of her eyes. "Mulder," she opened quietly, "Don't do this, to
yourself, to us."
     Mulder squeezed her hand.  Scully took a deep breath before
continuing.
     "Mulder . . . I need you.  I need your strength, your friendship, your
tenderness.  I need you so much.  Please don't push me away," here Scully
broke, tears again rolling down her face.
     Mulder heard her, but at first made no move to comfort her.
Disappointed, Scully pulled her hand away and stood up.  Mulder was up
in a flash, drawing Scully back to him, so close she could feel his breath on
her face as he spoke.
     "Scully, I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry.  When Perdoue and his cronies raped
you, something inside me . . . just . . . died.  It's because of me, it's my
fault.  If you . . . "
     "No, Mulder.  No.  It's NOT your fault.  Risking our lives is part of our
jobs.  And no matter what you think, you were not responsible for my
rape," Scully lowered her voice, "If anything, I should have fought harder." 
She turned away, ashamed.
     It was Mulder's turn to protest, "Scully, Perdoue did this to you.  How
could you have fought off those men in the state you were in?  You were
still groggy from the drugs."  Mulder put his arm around Scully's waist and
tugged her to him.  She stiffened at the unexpected contact and Mulder
started to ease his grip.  Scully turned around and pulled him into a tight
embrace.  Grateful that he hadn't done anything wrong, Mulder simply held
her.
     "Hey, Scully?  I think between the two of us, we've finally realized that
we weren't in charge in that warehouse.  We were held captive and there
was little we could do about it.  Now we know who actually was in charge
when you were raped."
     Scully nodded against his chest.
     "I know I shouldn't go into psychologist mode right now, but I have to
ask: Were you afraid that I was going to hurt you, Scully?  You seemed to
be so rigid when I put my arm around you."
     "It was because I didn't know you were going to be so close.  I wasn't
afraid of you, Mulder.  I told you, I trust you not to hurt me," she said.
     "Good," he said, gently brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.
"Good."  Mulder was silent a moment before taking Scully's face in his
hands.
     "You know I love you, don't you, Scully?" It was more of a statement
than a question.
     Scully nodded again and answered, "I love you, too, Mulder."
     He gave a reciprocal nod, acknowledging her admission.  Mulder
searched her eyes, then lowered his mouth to cover Scully's in a gentle,
chaste kiss.
     Scully shivered at the contact.  As Mulder pulled away, his eyes asked
permission to continue.  In answer Scully stood on tiptoes to plant a kiss of
her own on the corner of Mulder's lips.
     That was all the incentive he needed.  Mulder pressed his lips to Scully's
in a fiery kiss.  His tongue grazed her bottom lip and his hands began to
roam over Scully's body.  When Scully opened her mouth to Mulder's
tongue, she was suddenly thrown back to the previous week and Perdoue.
     "Wait, Mulder, stop," she asked.
     "Scully, what is it?"
     "I . . . I don't know if I can do this," she said.
     Mulder was mentally whipping himself as he said, "God I'm sorry,
Scully.  I'm such an ass.  We will do this on your time.  I will wait as long
as you need to."
     Scully made a quick decision, "I can do this if we go slow."
     "Scully, you don't have to do this . . . " he trailed off.
     "I want to do this, Mulder.  But . . . "
     "But what?" he prompted.
     "I need you to show me.  I want to do this right," she explained shyly. 
"I don't know what to do."
     "I can make this, our making love, good for you.  If you're sure you
want to."
     "I want to."
     "Do you trust me, Scully?"
     "With my life."
     "Are you ready?"
     "Yes."
     "Close your eyes," he whispered.
     Mulder began raining kisses over her face; her cheeks, her nose, her
temple, her eyelids all received the same treatment.  He stepped away for a
moment and then said, "Open your eyes, Scully."
     She looked at him, slightly bemused.  Her expression changed as he
tugged his grey t-shirt over his head.
     "Mulder?  I thought we were going slow?"
     "Trust me."
     Mulder captured Scully's mouth with his own and pulled her back to the
couch.  They sat facing each other, still engrossed in the kiss.  Mulder let
his hands slide up and down Scully's back, going no further.  Of her own
volition, Scully began mimicking his actions. 
     "I think, Scully," Mulder said between kisses, "that you are wearing too
many clothes.  Let's get rid of that sweater."
     Useless to do anything else, Scully reached behind her to yank the
sweater over her head.
     "You are so beautiful, Scully," he breathed.  He brought his hands
around to her breasts, testing their weight.  He brushed his thumbs across
her nipples, and Scully surprised herself by pushing into him, wanting more
contact.
     "May I?" he asked, his hands dancing around the clasp of her bra.
     "Please."
     With the unveiling, Mulder placed his mouth around one pink nubbin,
while rolling the other with his thumb and forefinger.  "My God, Mulder.  I
didn't, I never imagined . . . "
     "Shhh," he answered as he switched breasts.
     Scully's hands hovered near the waistband of Mulder's faded jeans.
     "Go ahead, Scully."
     Scully touched him then, felt the length of him harden, heard him groan
in response.  She undid the button and zipper, pushed down his jeans and
stopped when she saw the bulge in his boxers.  Mulder took Scully's hand
and placed it on top of his penis.  Scully looked at him, confused.
     "You look scared, Scully.  Just get used to it, you can do whatever you
want.  But if I ask you to stop . . . well, you're a doctor, you can figure that
out for yourself," he grinned.
     Scully returned the look, then turned her attention to the throbbing
organ beneath her hand.  She touched him, running her hands up and down. 
Then, reaching inside Mulder's boxers, she squeezed him lightly, raking her
nails down the length of him to the tip.
     "Time to stop, Scully," Mulder groaned.  "I think it's my turn to play." 
He picked her up and carried her to his bedroom.  Setting her down in a
standing position, he said roughly, "Those need to go," pointing to her
jeans.
     Hesitantly, she began to pull them down.  Placing a hand under her chin,
Mulder forced her to look at him.
     "We can stop any time you want to," he said tenderly.
     "I don't want to stop," she put her arms around him and squeezed him
close.  She wasn't surprised that Mulder was giving her a way to back out,
even this late in the game.  But she was nonetheless still pleased by it.
     "Mulder, help me," she brought his hands to the front of her jeans.  He
slowly smoothed the material down her legs.  Stopping only to pull her
shoes and sock along for the ride.  He smiled when he saw the flowery,
lacy panties Scully wore.  So unlike her outward mannerisms, she was
still a girl at heart.  Carefully he removed those, too and lay her down on
the bed.  He slipped out of his boxers and stretched out beside her.
     Mulder placed his hand on Scully's stomach.  Gradually he moved it
down so that it rested in the nest of curls at the juncture of her thighs. 
"Scully, spread your legs," he whispered into her ear, kissing her neck.
     She complied, and felt his fingers slip between the folds of flesh he
found there.  Leisurely, he stroked her, creating a sensation that built in the
pit of her stomach.  Scully felt his other hand join the first.  Two of these
fingers hovered near the entrance to her body. They stroked on and on,
until she felt Mulder slip a finger inside.
     She gasped at the sensation, surprised at the pleasure she felt.  The fire
in her grew, and she found that she could no longer contain her moans.
     "That's right, Scully.  I want you to come for me.  That's it . . . " Mulder
trailed off as he mouth took over the work of some his fingers.  He suckled
at the nubbin of flesh that was her center and Scully began to cry out in
earnest.
     "Mulder, my God.  Oh Mulder . . . "
     Finally, she came, exploding into a thousand pieces and was
reconstructed in Mulder's arms, who held her until she came back to Earth.
     "You okay, Scully?" he asked.
     "Never better.  How 'bout you?" Scully could feel his erection pressing
into her thigh.
     "I'm fine.  Could be better," Mulder responded, shakily.  He wanted so
badly to be deep inside her, he didn't know if he could last, much longer.
     "I think I know how to remedy the situation," Scully said with a smile. 
Reaching between them, Scully took him in her hands and led him to her
entrance.
     "You're absolutely positive?"
     "I love you, Mulder."
     That was all he needed to help make the decision.  Mulder eased inside
of her, wanting to make sure she was comfortable.  He began moving,
slowly at first, and faster as Scully urged him on.  Mulder had been so close
before he was inside of Scully that he knew he wasn't going to last very
long.  Scully was amazed to find herself on the brink of another orgasm
after only a few strokes.
     "Oh, God, Mulder . . . I think . . . I'm gonna come again," She began to
jerk her hips more erratically and sent Mulder tumbling over the edge along
with her.
     When he'd regained his breath, Mulder moved to take himself off of
Scully.
     "Don't go, Mulder."
     "You sure I'm not crushing you?"
     "I like having you this close to me, Mulder."
     He pulled the blanket over them and rested his head on her chest.
     "I love you, Dana.  And not just because of this . . . because we've made
love.  Because of who you are and what you mean to me.  I meant what I
said when I told you that you made me a whole person.  Without you I
would have been in a strait jacket or dead a long time ago.  I just wanted to
tell you . . . to thank you for . . . being my friend and staying with me."
     Scully felt her eyes fill at Mulder's words.
     "There's nowhere else I'd have been . . . Fox," she rolled his name
around, testing how right it was to call him by his first name.  Mulder, on
the other hand, winced upon hearing his given name.
     "It's only fair, Fox," Scully said, smiling.  "I think we're close enough to
be on a first name basis."
     "I suppose," sighed Mulder, dramatically.  "But only when we're along. 
And definitely not in the office," he cautioned.
     "Fine.  It's enough to be here with you, right now.  And I will stay with
you, forever.  I love you Fox Mulder."
     Mulder spooned behind her, stroking her hair as she drifted off to sleep. 
The last thing Scully heard before she entered unconsciousness was
Mulder's soft voice,
     "I love you, too, Dana Scully."


Finis
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