From: "beduini" <beduini@justduckies.org>
Date: Sat, 3 Nov 2001 11:05:38 -0800
Subject: An Alluring Indiscretion
Source: direct

*X*X*X*X*

CHAPTER TEN

This is a man
Who needs a woman
I'm not afraid to say what I feel
I'll never be unfaithful
I've been wrong and lived the lonely nights
Silence is loud
Without her whispers
My body craves her touch
Such are my prayers
Every break of dawn
To open my eyes
And see her by my side
- Zucchero, 'Feels Like A Woman'


Spending the evening alone in Mulder's apartment wasn't any better than 
spending the evening alone in her own - there was less to do, Scully 
thought as she peered out the window for what must have been the 
thirtieth time.  Mulder must have asked Frohike to keep an eye on the 
place, or perhaps on her, because she'd seen his van circle the block 
more than once.  She knew that if anyone were watching her or Mulder's 
apartment, the paranoid little troll would pick up on it.

She wandered back to the computer, clicking the mouse randomly over the 
icons onscreen.  It was past eleven and she'd already perused all of 
the background files on everyone involved in the Harman case.  She 
couldn't handle looking at any more surveillance video.  She was bored, 
and she wanted Mulder to come home.  She wanted someone to talk to, but 
more than that she wanted to pick up where they had left off the night 
before.

Onscreen the 'My Documents' folder opened to a window displaying a slew 
of sub-folders, one entitled 'Scully' catching her eye.  She knew she 
probably shouldn't, but with nothing better to do, she clicked on the 
folder and perused the contents.

There were several .jpg files, all with numeric labels.  She clicked on 
the one with the smallest number and a window opened with a picture of 
her taken at the Lone Gunmen's, very early in their partnership.  She 
was sitting on a desk with a look of amusement on her face.  She 
wondered when that had been taken.  The next image she clicked on was 
from the same visit to the Gunmen.  She was still sitting on the desk 
and wearing the same suit, only her expression was solemn.

She closed the image and looked at the rest of the contents of the 
folder.  There were files entitled 'Correspondence' that contained some 
of the more personal emails they had exchanged over the years, and 
another one entitled 'Commendations' that listed every piece of 
positive reinforcement she'd received for her work in the past six and 
a half years.  She raised her eyebrows at this and smiled.

There was a folder, nearly 12 megabytes, entitled 'Cancer Research.'  
Every one of the X-Files she'd personally been involved in were there.  
She clicked on the folder entitled 'Jerse' and icons popped up 
cataloging one of her most regretted indiscretions.  A .jpg from the 
Philadelphia PD of her tattoo.  The police file from her assault.  
Another .jpg with a note on top from Frohike, 'This is the slimebag - 
He looks too much like you to be a mere coincidence...' attached to an 
image of Ed Jerse.

God.  Had she been that obvious?

She was growing uneasy, her emotions churning within her and not quite 
certain how she should feel about her obvious violation of Mulder's 
trust.  She closed out the file and stared at the screen, swallowing.  
Her hand shook as she moved the mouse to the file entitled 'Desire,' 
unable to stop herself from clicking on the icon and viewing the 
contents.

A cyberkiss postcard addressed but unsent to Dscully@fbi.gov...

A .jpg of Gustav Klimt's 'The Kiss'...

William Butler Yeats' poem 'When You Are Old'...

Lyrics to several different songs containing the words 'blue eyes' in 
the title... 

The complete illustrated love teachings of the Kama Sutra, with 
asteriks next to the 'Lataveshta,' 'Avalambitaka' and 'Jihva-
bhramanaka' verses...she'd discovered the Kama Sutra in college, but in 
this context the images conjured now made her cheeks flush pink.

Lyrics to 'With or Without You' from U2's 'The Joshua Tree'...

A .jpg of Robert Doisneau's Le Baiser de l'Hotel de Ville...

There seemed to be endless files and links, some recent and some dating 
back nearly seven years.  She closed the folder and stared at the 
screen.  Every icon could be directly tied to an event or a moment in 
her life.  Photographs, documents, emails - he had kept an electronic 
record of her, down to her living will and instructions on how to water 
her plants.  That he had kept these things touched her, but the fact 
that he had been gathering these things for years and that they went 
far beyond their working relationship brought tears to her eyes.

Mulder loved her.

Not only did he love her, he desired her, and he respected her and he 
was proud of her, both as an agent and as a person.

She knew this on some fundamental level.  But this was proof.  
Irrefutable proof and the reality of it hit her full-force.  She had 
never been really clear about the nature of his feelings for her.  How 
long had they been silently pushing their feelings aside, squandering 
them away in some private, secluded place?

Scully closed out all of the files and stepped away from the computer, 
wiping the tears off of her cheeks with her hands.  She didn't want 
Mulder to come home and find her crying over his private collection of 
electronic memorabilia on his partner.  Glancing at the clock on the 
computer screen she picked up the telephone and dialed his cel, hearing 
him answer on the third ring.

"It's me."  She exhaled, pausing a moment before continuing.  "Are you 
still in Gaithersburg?"

He sighed.  "Yeah, it looks like we'll be here a while.  Is everything 
okay?"

She paused.  "Yeah.  Everything is fine.  It's just..."

"What?"

She paused again, poking at a spot on the floor with her big toe.  
"Nothing.  It's nothing."

Mulder shifted, trying to gain a little more privacy for his call.  
"Scully?"

She let out a long sigh.  "It's...too quiet here without you, Mulder."

He was silent but she knew he was grinning anyway.  "Why don't you 
invite Frohike up?"

She snorted her reply and he laughed.

"We've still got quite a few credit card receipts to go through.  I'll 
be there as soon as I can, Scully, I promise."

"Yeah, okay." She listened to him breath a moment.  "Mulder?"

"Still here."

"I..." she stopped herself, feeling a little foolish for being so 
needy.  "I'm fine."  She said with conviction.

There was a smile in his voice as he replied.  "I know."  He knew what 
she really meant.  "Me too, Scully."

She smiled.  Hanging up the phone, she stepped back over to the window 
and wrapped her arms around her middle.  She hoped that when Mulder 
said 'soon' it meant before breakfast.



Mulder rubbed his eyes and blearily searched for his apartment key.  He 
located it as silently as possible and slid the key softly into the 
lock, turning it gently.  Part of him hoped that Scully was sleeping 
and hadn't waited up for him.  The other part of him hoped that she 
had.

He gently closed the door behind him and quietly turned the deadbolt, 
tossing his tie and coat jacket across a chair as his eyes scanned the 
apartment for her.  As he approached the living room he saw her, 
wearing silk pajamas the color of aubergine as she lay on her back 
across his leather sofa, the desk lamp casting shadows across her face 
as her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

Careful not to wake her with his shadow, Mulder stepped up to the sofa 
and let his eyes run down her petite frame, smiling when they reached 
her well-manicured bare feet.  It seemed that he'd spent more time with 
her asleep than awake over the past few weeks.  As his eyes made their 
return they caught the hint of angry red against alabaster peeking out 
beneath the flipped up hem of her pajama top.  Kneeling, he gently 
pushed the fabric up and revealed her smooth abdomen and the fresh scar 
near her belly button.

Mulder gasped softly.  This was where she had been shot.  This was 
where she had been injured in the line of duty while assigned to 
another case and another partner.  This was where he almost lost her 
once again.

Before Brown Mountain, before Padgett, this was where his own heart 
nearly stopped beating.  The scar was star-shaped and puckered, raised 
but not quite keloid.  It was smaller, thank God, than the one on his 
shoulder.  He knew if he turned her over on her stomach there would be 
a corresponding scar on her lower back, no doubt near the tattoo that 
marked the time she had decided that she was no longer going to put her 
life on hold for him.

It was history.  They'd been through seven years of cases and 
misunderstandings and near-misses but she was here with him now.  She 
was here and she wasn't going anywhere.  That which didn't destroy them 
made them stronger, and she was tough as nails...she was also soft and 
pliable, her skin stretching and returning to form under the gentle 
path of his fingertips as he traced the bone at the bottom of her 
ribcage.  He watched her soft, flat belly gently rise and fall like the 
tide.

He leaned over, pressing his lips to her cool skin.  He let his lips 
glide softly down the smooth expanse, feeling the soft line of peach 
fuzz tickle his nose as it grazed lightly along her abdomen.  Pressing 
a kiss to the small swell below her navel, he flicked his tongue out 
for a taste.  She tasted both cool and warm, salty and sweet.

Mulder laid his cheek against her skin, looking up at her face.  She 
was deep into sleep, her face completely slack without the usual mask 
of worry and caution.  Her lips were slightly parted and her breathing 
was slow and easy, uninterrupted by nightmares or other horrors.  She 
was safe and content, at least for the moment.  He closed his eyes and 
let out a long, silent sigh, weary with fatigue and too many nights of 
his own harrowing nightmares.  He wanted to curl up on the sofa beside 
her and sleep through the night like a child the way he'd done the 
night before, but the desire not to wake her was stronger, so he 
remained on the floor on his knees, his face pressed into her abdomen.

Scully shifted slightly and the cadence of her breathing changed, 
barely noticeable but enough for him to open his eyes and look at her 
face.  She was watching him, looking down through heavy lids.

His hand found hers at the edge of the sofa and he entwined their 
fingers lightly.

"You look tired."  She said, her voice high and airy.

He closed his eyes briefly, then looked back up at her.  "Remind me of 
that the next time Walter calls and wants to play."

The hand that wasn't entwined with his found its way into his hair.  
"Did you find anything?"

He let out a soft sigh at her touch.  "Yeah, it may be something.  Can 
we talk about it in the morning?  I just want to go to bed."

She watched him a moment, her hand running gently through his silky 
brown strands.  "You want me to sleep out here so you can stretch out 
under the air conditioner?"

"I want you stretched out next to me under the air conditioner, unless 
you're more comfortable out here."

"No."  She pulled herself into a sitting position and took a deep 
breath, looking him over.  "When was the last time you had more than 
one full night of sleep in succession, Mulder?"

He stood, helping her to her feet as well.  "What year is it?" Was his 
reply as he shuffled into the bedroom behind her.



He didn't know what he had expected.  It was one thing to wake up in 
Scully's living room, on Scully's sofa, with Scully tucked tightly 
between him and the sofa back.  But waking up with her in his bed was 
an entirely different situation.

Although they had fallen asleep in each other's arms, they weren't 
spooned together, curled up like little baby cats.  He didn't awake, as 
he'd imagined, to the delicious sensation of his morning erection 
pressed into her tight round bottom.  She was on her stomach, her arm 
hanging off the edge and one small foot stuck out from underneath the 
flat sheet that was bunched up tightly in her fist and held very 
closely to her chest.  He was on the other side of the bed, his upper 
torso exposed to the cold air blasting from the window unit, the far 
edge of the sheet stretched diagonally across his body and barely 
covering his usual morning erection.

And lots of space in between them.  Lots and lots of space. 

He'd never figured Scully for a cover hog, but there you had it.  
They'd both spent too many years sleeping alone to change after one 
night.

He considered waking her to see if she might be willing to help him 
relieve his morning condition, but then thought better of it.  She'd 
yet to give him the green light on the sexual intimacy and besides, the 
way she was coveting the bedcovers made him suspect that she might wake 
with violent impulses if he wasn't careful.  So when she suddenly 
rolled over and looked at him, her eyes wide and clear and looking 
straight through to his very soul he caught his breath with surprise.

"I wanna kiss you," she said with a smile, her voice the same clean 
alto he knew and loved, "but I need to brush my teeth first.

"Meet me back here in two minutes."  He said with a grin, both 
scampering out of the bed.  Mulder made a quick pit stop while she 
rummaged through her overnight bag, then took his toothbrush and 
toothpaste to the kitchen sink to give her a moment of privacy.  He 
beat her back to the bed and he climbed in, straightening the sheet and 
tucking his arms back behind his head to wait.

Scully emerged from the bathroom with her hair combed, her teeth 
brushed and her face washed, looking every bit as immaculate as she 
always did.  As she approached the bed she grinned, her smile bright 
and slightly mischievous and he dared to hope that perhaps this was it, 
finally, as she crawled over the covers toward him.  She planted one 
hand on either side of his chest and leaned down, still grinning as she 
kissed him.  He was cool, responding only with his lips for about 
fifteen seconds, then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her 
down against his chest, exploring her mouth with his own while she did 
the same.

Their kisses tasted of toothpaste and mint, both still feeling the ease 
and playfulness in their encounter, and with growing certainty that 
she wouldn't put on the brakes he deftly rolled her over, one leg 
tucked between hers and his weight resting on his elbows.  She smiled 
and her fingers started exploring his body - the cut of his arms, the 
smooth skin on his back, the ridges of his ribs.  He took that as a 
good sign and did the same, his hands roaming freely over her compact 
frame.

They went on that way for a long time, kissing and exploring, the mood 
growing serious and their breathing growing more shallow until his 
fingers found the buttons on her pajama top and began to loosen them 
from their snares.  At the last button she glanced down with a raised 
eyebrow as he parted the two halves of fabric.

Mulder raised himself up to rest on one elbow as he looked into her 
face, silently asking for her permission to move ahead.  She knew what 
he was asking and a small smile of encouragement from her was all it 
took for him to take what he wanted, giving her pleasure at the same 
time.  His lips moved over her upper torso, alternating between gentle 
kisses and not-so-gentle nips to her neck, shoulders, breasts, 
clavicle...she responded with her hands and her lips, stroking and 
tasting his neck and chest, biceps and shoulders.

They were deliberately slow, enjoying the spirit of the discovery but 
impatient enough to push the momentum forward.  They spoke only with 
darkened eyes, watching responses and acknowledging pleasure as they 
removed the rest of their garments, until he was hovering over her on 
outstretched arms, his hips cradled between her thighs and looking into 
her face while undulating lightly against her.  She reached between 
them to touch the hardness of him that she felt brushing against her 
mons, stroking lightly.  He drew in a shaky breath and they both looked 
down to watch her small hand glide against his fully engorged penis, 
then looked back at each other, their eyes locking.  It was understood 
between them that the time had arrived, and she gently pressed his tip 
into her moist center.   She closed her eyes as he completed the 
joining of their bodies, panting softly while he groaned in ecstasy.

It would not last long, he knew, moving as slow as he could manage for 
a man who had not done this with another person in a very, very long 
time.  He watched the emotions play out on her face and he leaned down 
to plant a kiss against her parted lips.

"Can you come this way?"  He asked, prepared to change positions if she 
needed to.

Her eyes glittered as she replied with a nod and a warm throaty, "yeah" 
before her eyes closed again and she began to move against him in 
counter rhythm.  All thought gave way to the sensations that surrounded 
them in a thick fog of need.  To experience the act after so many long 
years of denial, sharing it with the one person in the world you wanted 
to be sharing it with all along was more than either of them could 
mentally process.

All they could do was feel.

He tried to wait for her but it was no use - it had been too long for 
him to have such control the first time out.  Luckily, she seemed on 
the edge herself and he was quick to react.  As his retreating body 
left hers damp and cold under the air conditioning she had barely 
gasped out half of his name in frustration before he assaulted her 
center with everything that he had.  Lips, tongue, teeth, fingers, 
thumbs...until her back arched away from the mattress and she clutched 
fistfuls of sheet, crying out his name with a whimper.  He slowed his 
ministrations and gently pulled away, then crawled up the mattress and 
flopped down on his stomach next to her, breathing hard with a grin of 
smug satisfaction as he watched her slowly melt back into the bed, her 
face peaceful and serene.

After a moment she opened her eyes and turned toward him, reaching out 
a hand to caress his cheek.  He leaned over for a slow, sensual kiss 
that tasted like the two of them and when he finally pulled back to 
look at her he saw a smile glittering in her eyes.

"I love you."  He said soberly, his eyes shining back at hers.

"I love you, too."  She replied deeply and softly.  Their eyes held, 
seeing each other in the morning stillness for what seemed like the 
first time without any emotional walls or roadblocks.

They'd had just a moment to enjoy their new intimacy before Mulder's 
alarm clock switched on with a loud click, blaring Buddy and David into 
the afterglow and effectively shattering the moment.  Scully rolled 
onto her back and closed her eyes, groaning while Mulder slammed his 
hand against the intruding appliance and the room was silent once 
again.

He fell back against the mattress and closed his eyes, groaning.  After 
a moment he looked at her and said in monotone, "time to make the 
donuts."



They'd never get to work on time, she pointed out, if they shared the 
shower, so she went first while he made coffee.  She could hear him 
whistling when she stepped onto the bath mat and wrapped a towel around 
herself, and had to chase him out of the bathroom a minute later when 
he brought in her coffee and wouldn't leave her towel alone.

For Mulder, it was fascinating to watch Scully become Special Agent 
Scully.  When she allowed him back into the bathroom, she had already 
blow-dried her hair into its familiar shape and applied the small 
amount of makeup and lipstick she wore during the day.  When he stepped 
out of the bathroom showered and shaved she had donned her black 
slacks, blouse and jacket and was padding barefoot around the bed 
straightening the covers and plumping the pillows.  He dropped his 
towel and dug through his closet in the buff to taunt her, but other 
than catching her looking at his bare ass while she sipped her coffee, 
she refrained from making any commentary.

"There's something in the car I want you to take a look at."  Mulder 
said as he fastened the buttons on his shirt cuffs.  "We found it in 
Leslie Martin's apartment last night."

"What is it?"  Scully asked as she took another sip of her coffee.

"Emmanuel Ungaro."



There was a gleam in her eyes as she examined the piece of evidence.  
The texture and feel of the silk was unlike anything she had or could 
ever afford, for that matter.  The tag on the suit indicated that it 
cost more than her monthly salary.

"Since the tag is still on it, we're assuming that it's still fairly 
new."  Mulder said, his eyes soaking in the reverent way she touched 
the fabric.  "Other than that tag, we were unable to find anything else 
indicating when or how she purchased the suit.  She had receipts down 
to the hair-dryer she bought last September, but not even her credit 
card statements listed a purchase in that amount from Loffredo of 
Milan."  Mulder closed the trunk of his car and touched his hand to the 
small of Scully's back, encouraging her to get into the car.  "It's a 
long-shot, I know, but it is so far removed from anything else she had 
in her closet it seemed like a good bet that she bought that suit with 
the intention of impersonating you." 

"A suit like this is way beyond my budget, I'm afraid."  She said 
almost wistfully, holding on to the suit as she sat in the passenger 
seat. "Mulder, I'm not certain, but I think this is a 'one-of.'"  She 
said, her eyes still shining.

"A 'one-of?'  As in, the only one?"

"I think so, yeah.  The tailoring is exquisite."  She flipped the cuff 
inside out and examined the lining.

Mulder crossed in front of the car and got in the driver's side, 
pulling his seatbelt across his lap and fastening it.

"Mulder, maybe I could take this in to the boutique where it was 
purchased and see if I can get any information, or maybe even a copy of 
the receipt."  She was looking at him hopefully.  The truth was, she 
was anxious to get out of the lab and do a little legwork.

He bit his lip as he looked at her.  "Pretending to be Leslie Martin, 
you mean?"

"Why not?  I look enough like her."

He let out a short laugh.  "The whole point was for her to look like 
you."

She looked at him a moment.  "Well, regardless, the worst that could 
happen is they wouldn't be able to help me."

He nodded, starting the car and backing out of the parking space.  "If 
it is a one of a kind, then they shouldn't have too much trouble 
remembering it.  We'll run over there at lunchtime unless you've got 
plans."

There was a hint of a smile as she replied.  "You're the one with the 
car."



She met him in the basement at quarter to twelve wearing a huge grin.  
"Agent Mancina gave birth to a healthy, nine pound seven ounce baby boy 
named Tyler Joseph Mancina at five forty-seven a.m. this morning.  Both 
mother and baby are doing just fine."

Mulder grinned.  "I thought she was having a girl."

"So did she.  I sent her a bouquet from the both of us."

Mulder leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, admiring her 
openly and grinning at her natural assumption (rightly so) to include 
him in her well-wishes to Agent Mancina.  "Thanks, Honey."

She closed her mouth, but her amusement remained in her eyes.  "So are 
we going or not?"

He stood and grabbed his keys off of his desk.  "Yes, Dear."

She followed him out the door and stood behind him with her arms 
crossed as he turned the key  "Mulder..."

He knew he was pushing it, but couldn't help himself.  "What is it, 
Pumpkin?"

"...shut up or I kill you now."

He chuckled and they headed for the garage in silence.



Loffredo of Milan was the kind of boutique no one ever felt quite 
comfortable in.  The decor was stark, almost industrial, with 
relatively few racks of clothes amongst hard leather club chairs and 
steel sidetables.  Most of the clothing was black or dark gray, which 
meant Scully would undoubtedly see something she liked, Mulder thought 
as he pulled off his sunglasses and looked around.  They had agreed to 
go in separately and pretend they didn't know each other on the chance 
that they may get more information that way.

The clerk was on him within seconds.  "Can I help you find something?"  
She asked cheerfully, running her eyes down his torso in a not-so-
subtle way.

"I'm looking for something for my wife."  He replied, flashing her a 
smile.  She was pretty - tall and slender with short blonde hair.  She 
wore a short black skirt and a fitted black blouse and high chunky 
heels that accentuated her long legs.

The girl smiled and looked into his eyes.  "Evening wear or something 
more casual?"

"Something she could wear out to dinner or to the office."  Mulder's 
eyes ran down her long legs and then back up to her face.  "Maybe 
something like what you're wearing."

The girl stepped closer and licked her bottom lip.  "Do you know her 
size?"

Scully entered the boutique carrying the suit and Mulder turned to look 
at her as if he were merely admiring a beautiful woman.  He let his 
eyes linger longer than was polite and without looking back at the 
clerk, said, "about her size."

Still wearing her sunglasses, Scully pretended to ignore Mulder and 
looked around, turning to face the clerk.  The girl offered her an icy 
but polite smile and said, "Someone will be with you in just a moment." 

She turned back to Mulder and touched his arm, smiling brightly again.  
"If you'd like to have a seat, I'll see what I can find for you."  She 
crossed the room and disappeared into the back.

Mulder leaned back and grinned flirtatiously at Scully.  Just because 
he was working didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun.  She gave him 
a raised eyebrow and her 'get serious' expression and turned away just 
as another, older woman appeared from the door the other girl had 
stepped through.

"May I help you?"  She asked in a pleasant tone, looking at Scully.

"Yes."  Scully held up the suit.  "I would like to have this altered."

The woman took it from her and held it up.  "Oh yes, Emmanuel Ungaro.  
Do you have the receipt with you?"

Scully smiled apologetically.  "Unfortunately, no.  I've looked 
everywhere for it but I can't seem to find it."

The woman looked back at the suit, then at Scully.  "I remember you, 
you've been in here before."  She smiled.  "I'll just look up the sku 
number in the computer and see if I can print out another receipt for 
you."

Scully smiled.  "That would be great."  She followed the woman over to 
the counter and watched as she ran the scanner over the tag on the 
suit.

The other clerk reappeared carrying an armful of outfits.  She slinked 
over to Mulder and held the first one up.  "Is this what you had in 
mind?"

Mulder sat up and the girl stepped closer until she was standing 
directly between his spread feet.  Mulder touched the fabric of the 
skirt she held out to him and rubbed it between his thumb and 
forefinger.  "Nice."  He said, looking up at her.

"Versace."  She said seductively.

Scully couldn't hear more than hushed tones of conversation and only 
saw a glimpse of the spectacle out of the corner of her eye, but didn't 
turn her head to look.

"What else do you have?"  Mulder asked, leaning back again.

The girl pulled another skirt and jacket from behind the first one and 
held it out for him to see.  "Armani."  She purred.  "I could model it 
for you if you'd like."

The printer on the counter began printing the receipt that Scully had 
requested and Mulder looked over at her.  "Thanks, but I wonder if the 
redhead at the counter would mind trying it on so that I could see how 
it might look on my wife."

When he looked back up at the girl she was frowning.  "Do you want me 
to ask her?"

He looked back over at Scully and sucked in his lower lip.  After a 
moment he looked back at the clerk.  "Please."

The woman behind the counter pulled the receipt out of the printer and 
smiled at Scully.  "We'll need to have you try it on so we can get the 
correct measurements."  She smiled, holding out her hand for Scully to 
follow her to the back.

As she turned the girl stepped up beside her.  "Excuse me, but the 
gentleman man over there would like to know if you would try this on."

Scully was glad she still had her sunglasses on as she spun around and 
looked at Mulder, her mouth falling open.  She silently asked, 'Mulder, 
what are you doing?' which he didn't see but he knew anyway as she 
looked into his dark eyes.

"Excuse me?"  She said to the clerk.

The girl shifted her weight from one foot to the other impatiently.  
"He says you're the same size as his wife.  He wants to know if you'll 
try it on so he can see if it will fit."

Scully looked over at Mulder a moment and saw the challenge in his 
eyes.  He expected her to decline.  She knew she wouldn't be able to 
afford these clothes on her own salary, so what the Hell.  They had 
gotten a receipt they came for so she might as well enjoy the 
experience.  Besides, she may be able to ask a few questions if it 
appeared that she was actually shopping.  Looking at the beautiful suit 
in the girl's hand, she smiled widely.  "Sure.  But I need to have my 
own suit altered first if the gentleman doesn't mind waiting."

The girl looked at Mulder and he smiled.  "No problem."

With a frown the girl handed the suit to Scully and stepped behind the 
counter as Scully followed the older woman into the back.

She'd tried the suit on in the bathroom at FBI Headquarters and knew 
the skirt was too long and the jacket could be better fitted around the 
waistline.  The woman was quick and efficient and took Scully's 
measurements, then pinned off the excess fabric in minutes, helping 
Scully out of the suit so that she wouldn't get pricked by one of the 
straight pins.

The outfit Mulder had chosen fit like a glove.  She admired her image 
in the full-length mirror as the woman arranged the Ungaro suit on a 
hanger, pinning the receipt to the front and setting it aside for the 
tailor to make the adjustments that afternoon.  She smiled at Scully in 
the mirror and stepped out of the dressing room.

Scully ran her hand over the sleeve, feeling the Italian crepe under 
her fingertips.  She let out a soft sigh.

"It's obscene how good you look."

Mulder was standing just inside the door, his hands in his pockets.

She turned and looked at him.  "Mulder, what are you..." she hissed, 
catching herself just as the young clerk entered without knocking, a 
scowl on her face and two more suits in hand.

"The only thing we have in dark red in a size two is a Krizia."  She 
hung the garments on a peg next to the mirror, then turned and looked 
at Scully, crossing her arms.  "That looks really good on you."  She 
said, begrudgingly.

Mulder stepped closer to Scully and walked around her completely, his 
eyes on the Armani and the smooth expanse of creamy leg exposed by it.  
Scully avoided meeting his eyes, wishing she still had her sunglasses 
on as he stopped behind her, looking at her reflection in the mirror.  
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet, holding out a 
credit card to the clerk.  "I'll take it."

Scully stared wide-eyed at him in the mirror, looking away quickly as 
the clerk took the credit card.

"I'm sure your wife will like it."  The girl said.  "You'll have to 
come out and sign the receipt.  We use an electronic pen at the 
register."

She stepped out of the dressing room and Mulder grinned at Scully, his 
hands on his hips.

"What are you doing?"  Scully whispered.  "You'll never get the Bureau 
to sign off on that."

"No."  Mulder said, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a sunflower 
seed and popping it between his teeth.  "That's why I'm paying for it."

"Mulder, I'm not gonna let you throw your money away on a suit that 
will probably end up covered in God knows what or snagged on some fence 
post."

He pressed against her from behind, encircling her waist with his arms. 

He laid his chin on top of her head and gazed at her in the mirror, his 
eyes warm and soft.  "You can wear it the next time I take you out to 
dinner."

She closed her eyes a moment, then opened them and gazed back at him, 
touched by his generosity but determined not to accept it.  "Mulder..."

There was another knock on the door and he had just enough time to pull 
away before the young clerk stepped inside again.

"I just need your signature, Mr. Mulder."

Scully was looking at the floor and out of the corner of his eye Mulder 
saw her stiffen, as if a switch had suddenly been flicked on.  She 
quickly walked over to the Ungaro that had been collected from Leslie 
Martin and pulled off the newly printed receipt, her mouth falling open 
as she stared at it.

Mulder realized the same thing she had, and heedless of the clerk, 
walked over to her and peered over her shoulder at the receipt.

Scully looked up at him, her breathing suddenly shallow.

"We've got him, Mulder."


END CHAPTER TEN

*X*X*X*X*

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Bawitdabadabangdadangdiggidiggidiggisetdaboogisetupjumpdaboogi
- Kid Rock


Skinner pushed through the glass door into the stark interior of the 
boutique, his eyes squinting until they adjusted to the dim interior 
lighting.  Scully was standing off to the side near one of the racks of 
clothes, her cel phone up to her ear.  Who could blame her for staying 
inside - the afternoon heat on the street was stifling.  Mulder was 
talking to two clerks at the counter.  Both clerks, a pretty blonde 
woman and an attractive more sophisticated woman, looked nervous.

"Is there anything else you can remember about him?"  Mulder was asking 
the older clerk, taking notes as she spoke.

The woman replied while nervously twisting the rings on her fingers, 
"No, I've told you everything I can remember."

Mulder looked up at Skinner as he approached.  "D.C.P.D. sent out a 
squad car to bring him in for questioning but he didn't show up for 
work today and wasn't at his apartment.  I've phoned in a search 
warrant to Judge Farquart.  It should be ready within the hour."  
Skinner said.  "You're sure he's our guy?"

Mulder turned to him and nodded.  "We've got his signature and American 
Express card number on the receipt for the suit we found in Leslie 
Martin's apartment last night, in addition to a receipt for a suit that 
matches the description of the one she was wearing when she died.  He 
purchased one other outfit in a size six that I'm betting we'll find in 
Karen Darby's closet."

Skinner let out a huff of air and looked over at Scully, who was 
looking at her cel phone with irritation, shaking it gently.  "Anything 
else?"

"Scully's getting his complete background information sent to her via 
email.  What we know of him so far indicates that he was jealous 
over the affair between the Senator and his girlfriend, Stephanie 
Curtis.  Maybe jealous enough to frame the Senator for murder."

Scully stepped up to them and sighed.  "I lost service during my 
conversation with Byers, but what little he did tell me seems to point 
us in the same direction.  It seems that Donald Mathers now works for 
Senator Harman's chief political opponent in the next election.  He's 
sending all of the information over to my work address via email as we 
speak."

Skinner looked from Scully back to Mulder.  "Let's hope our search of 
his apartment turns up the evidence we need to prosecute this guy."  
Mulder dug in his trousers pocket and pulled out his car keys, handing 
them over to Scully.  She accepted them silently into her upturned 
palm, and their eyes met briefly.  An apology was exchanged once again 
for her official removal from the investigation.  She gave him a slight 
smile of forgiveness and looked up at Skinner briefly, then headed out 
the door.

They were at the car when Mulder told Skinner he forgot something and 
jogged back into the store.  From the street, Skinner could see him 
speak to the clerks, sign something, hand over a business card and 
offer a smile before jogging back out, leaving the clerks to stare 
after him.  Mulder was grinning but his expression became laconic when 
he caught Skinner glaring at him.



She understood the reasons why she was sitting in the lab watching the 
centrifuge spin blood samples around instead of collecting evidence 
against Donald Mathers for the murders of four innocent people.  She 
even forgave Mulder for maneuvering her into this position with the 
misguided intent to protect her.  That didn't mean she was in the least 
bit happy about it.

Byers had emailed the background information on Mathers as he had 
promised, and although it provided more than enough material for an 
accurate profile, it didn't do much toward helping them get the 
evidence they would need to prosecute.  With any luck, Mulder was 
getting it from Mathers' apartment.

Still, it annoyed her to no end not to be part of the team gathering 
evidence at Mathers' apartment.  Nevermind that it wasn't her case 
anymore - it was Mulder's and Skinner's case.  But she had a stake in 
it, too, and she wanted to be actively involved, doing more than 
sitting on her butt in the lab watching blood separate.  If she'd 
wanted to do that, she wouldn't have joined the FBI in the first place.

And then she realized how she might contribute to the investigation.  
She had spoken with Mulder about going to see the Senator again the day 
before, and now that they'd established that Mathers was most likely 
operating out of jealousy and a desire to get revenge on the Senator, a 
return visit to the Senator seemed to be in order.

She picked up the phone and asked for directory assistance, then for 
Senator Harman's office.  She jotted the number down, hung up, redialed 
and spoke directly with the Senator's receptionist.

"This is Dana Scully.  Is the Senator available?"

"Hold on a moment, Ms. Scully, I'll check."

She didn't really expect the Senator to be in, and she wasn't sure he'd 
be available to take her call if he were, so she was surprised when a 
moment later his sing-song Southern voice rang in her ear.  "Agent 
Scully.  To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Senator Harman."  She replied, taking a deep breath, "I realize this 
is short notice, but I was hoping I might be able to meet with you 
today."

He paused a moment.  "I'm about to leave here within the hour, I'm 
afraid."  He replied.  "Would you be willing to meet me at my home 
office this evening?  Say, seven o'clock?"

Scully let out a breath and thought a moment.  Mulder would more than 
likely be tied up with gathering evidence and they hadn't discussed 
spending the evening together, although she assumed that he assumed as 
much.  "Yes, that would be fine."  She told the Senator.

"I'll look forward to it, Miss Scully."  He replied pleasantly, and 
hung up the phone.

Through the glass windows, she saw Danny walking up the hallway and 
enter the lab, a case file in his hand.  "How's it going this 
afternoon, Dana?"

She sighed and looked over at him.  "I'm processing the blood samples 
brought in by Agent DeLuca.  The P.C.R. test on the Sydney case is 
nearly complete."

Danny shoved a pen into the pocket of his lab coat and walked over to 
her.  "I heard there was a break in the case Mulder and Skinner are 
working on."

She gave him a slight smile.  "They've got a strong lead on the 
perpetrator."

He leaned back against the counter.  "I guess once Mulder wraps the 
case up you'll be heading back down to the basement, hmm?"

She took in a breath and checked the centrifuge, then looked back at 
him.  "Have you hired a permanent replacement?"

Danny shook his head.  "No, not yet.  Look, Dana, I know your 
assignment was supposed to be until we hired someone, but I know your 
heart is with the X-Files.  I can't in good conscience keep you here 
when I know you'd be happier out in the field with Mulder."

She dropped her face and studied her hands, smiling.  "Is it that 
obvious?"

He smiled.  "Do you mean does everyone around here see it?  Yeah.  But 
you've never been anything but professional, and you do great work.  
Besides that, we've enjoyed having you around."

She looked up at him, her face showing her gratitude.  "I have enjoyed 
the change of pace.  And I have to admit, I've enjoyed being in a less 
isolated environment..."

"But..."

"But, my place is with the X-Files."

He grinned.  This was hardly news.  Looking down at his wristwatch, he 
said,  "Well...we're all going over to see the baby this evening after 
work if you'd like to join us."

She sat back, her disappointment showing on her face.  "I'd love to, 
but I've already made plans for this evening.  Send Agent Mancina my 
regrets?"

"Will do."  He tapped on the counter and offered her a parting smile.  
She smiled in response and with a sigh, turned back to the centrifuge 
once again.



She was halfway to Falls Church when she realized that she hadn't left 
word for Mulder where she had gone.  If he assumed that she would be 
staying at his apartment again that evening, even though she expected 
that he'd be late like the night before, she knew he'd want to know if 
she weren't going to be there.  Besides that, she had his car.

Scully took out her cel phone and dialed his cel number.  After four 
rings she heard his voice, but there was static and she realized that 
it was his voice mail.

"It's me."  She said, "You may be expecting me to go straight to 
your apartment and stay there, Mulder, but I'm on my way to Falls 
Church to speak with Senator Harman about Donald Mathers.  I think 
Senator Harman may have some answers as to why Mathers chose to murder 
those people and then try to make it look like the Senator was 
involved."

There was a loud burst of static and she pulled the phone away from her 
ear, then put moved it back when she heard the sound cease.  She looked 
at the phone, only to see a blank display screen.  She punched the 
power button a few times, but to no avail.  Silently cursing herself 
for waiting too long to have it looked at, she tossed it onto the 
passenger seat of the car.   



By the time Skinner had gotten the full story on Mathers from Mulder on 
their way his apartment at the Watergate, there were two D.C.P.D. 
patrol cars waiting for them at the complex to act as backup.  
Detective McCracken was among those waiting.

"Good to see you again, Agent Mulder.  I was worried we'd lost you a 
while back."  McCracken nodded to A.D. Skinner in greeting and returned 
his attention back to the charismatic, but 'difficult to peg' Special 
Agent.

Mulder motioned for the patrol officers to gather round as he 
responded.  "I take a lickin', but I keep on tickin', McCracken, just 
like a Timex.  I appreciate the thought, though."  Mulder looked beyond 
McCracken's line of sight as he addressed the whole group.  "Okay, the 
suspect is Donald Mathers, mid-forties, 5' 10", dark hair, brown eyes, 
gold wire-rimmed glasses.  He is to be approached with caution.  His 
M.O. doesn't indicate he'll be carrying a weapon, but be cautious just 
in case.  Detective McCracken can fill you in on the details." 

As Mulder and Skinner moved toward the front entrance of the Watergate 
complex, McCracken stepped forward to finish the briefing.  Before the 
two men walked through the front doors, the other uniformed officers 
were moving into their positions.  The two agents took the elevator to 
the 5th floor with McCracken not far behind them. 

The apartment was down the hall past a large bank of windows that 
looked out over the Tidal Basin.  Mulder stepped to the right of the 
door, allowing coverage from both sides.  McCracken stood behind 
Skinner, out of the line of any possible fire, if they had pegged their 
suspect incorrectly.  The men drew their weapons and had them at the 
ready above the shoulder.  Skinner knocked on the door.

Nothing.  No response.

Skinner shouted out so he could be heard through the door with 
authority.  "Donald Mathers! FBI! We'd like to ask you a few 
questions." Again, no response. "We have a search warrant!"

Silence.

Skinner looked over at Mulder, who was ready to try opening the door.  
They made eye contact then he nodded for Mulder to proceed.  He tried 
the doorknob.

Locked.

Mulder reached into his lapel pocket and pulled out a small package 
from which he removed a small, delicate and highly unorthodox lock 
pick.  Deftly, he slid the pick into the door's lock and twisted, 
feeling the tumblers move into alignment.  He gave the doorknob a 
little turn and the door popped open, just as a black cat sprung from 
the opening, startling the men in the hallway for a flash of a second.  
"Guess we let the cat out of the bag," Mulder quipped to no one in 
particular as the men steeled themselves, then rushed through the door. 
Two uniformed officers entered right behind them.  Each man spread out 
into a different direction as they began to search the premises for 
their suspect.  It was obvious he wasn't home.

Mulder holstered his gun, and moved through the apartment to the 
bedroom.  It was nothing fancy: a rumpled bed, a dresser, a mirror, a 
chair with some shirts and ties thrown across the back. On the 
nightstand next to the bed, Mulder spotted two envelopes with an 
invoice attached. 

Quickly pulling on a pair of latex gloves, he picked up the envelopes 
and noted that the larger of the two was stiff from an inserted piece 
of cardboard.  Paper-clipped to the smaller envelope was a professional 
photographer's receipt for black and white photo processing: Ronald A. 
Dobbs, Photographer.  This was the same photographer that took the 
photo at the yacht club of Senator Harman and Lisa Lewis.  He made a 
mental note to pull him in for further questioning.

Mulder looked inside the envelope with the cardboard, but it was empty. 

He struck paydirt, however, when he looked into the second.  It 
contained the  negatives of Scully and him at dinner; waiting for the 
car; in her apartment.  There were also negatives of what appeared to 
be Scully alone.  Portraits, actually.  He bet if he had them printed, 
they'd prove to be portraits of Leslie Martin made to look like Scully. 

Probably photos to guide them in their efforts to impersonate his 
partner and the woman he loved.  He quickly looked around to see if any 
of the D.C. investigators or Skinner saw him as he separated the 
portraits out from the surveillance photos, folded the envelope as 
small as possible and place it in his inside jacket pocket.  Better 
that these stayed out of the evidence bag unless they became crucial to 
the case, he thought.  He bagged the negatives of the portraits and 
moved on.

Poking through the rest of the belongings in the bedroom, nothing stuck 
out as pertinent to the case, so he continued into the adjoining 
bathroom.  Things were pretty typical there, too.  Mulder rummaged 
through the suspect's toiletries, then turned to the medicine cabinet.  
On the third shelf next to the expensive aftershave stood an array of 
pill bottles of various sizes.  One of the larger ones had a label 
identical to the type found on the bottle in Lisa Lewis' apartment at 
the time of her death.  The bottle had no registered pharmaceutical 
markings and no doctor's name or numbers.  The label was largely empty 
except for the marker scrawl that read 'Norco.'

The bottle appeared to be more than half empty.

Mulder bagged the evidence and turned to leave the bathroom, just as 
Skinner entered the bedroom to find him.  "Did you turn up anything? 
I've got an officer bagging receipts and other papers from the desk.  
We should be able to turn up something that connects him to the 
purchase of that suit."
 
Skinner appeared slightly excited, enervated by the search and the 
feeling of being out on the street again, if only for a short time. 

"I'm sure Scully will be able to link the pills in this bottle to the 
drugs found in Lisa Lewis' system at the time of her death.  He's 
definitely our man, Sir, but I don't think this guy is an experienced 
felon.  I think this is a crime of..."

"Sir?"  One of the uniformed officers stood in the doorway holding a 
bag that contained a can bearing a striking resemblance to crystal 
Drano.  "Sir, I noticed this in the bottom of the suspect's coat closet 
and thought it seemed out of place.  I checked the label.  According to 
our briefing, it contains the same concentrated chemical as the one 
used in the death of the last victim."

Skinner looked over at Mulder and was able to catch the sickened 
anguish in his eyes as he imagined what it must be like to die in this 
way.  He stepped forward to receive the second evidence bag.  "Good 
work, officer.  See to it that this gets put into evidence with the 
other items we're collecting." 

"Yes, sir."  The patrolman exited the bedroom, but before Mulder and 
Skinner could return to their conversation, he reappeared at the door.  
"Sir, Detective McCracken says you both should come out to the living 
room.  He's found something."

Detective McCracken had just removed the object from the floor of the 
hall closet.  He had to tug a little to get it past some of the other 
items in the closet, so he was a little out of breath.  He held a small 
aluminum suitcase in his hands - the kind that photographers carried 
expensive camera equipment in, or that guns were stored in.  He opened 
the case to find the foam rubber cutouts carved into the exact shape of 
a .38 revolver.  He knew this because the gun was missing.

The two FBI men exchanged looks with McCracken, but said nothing.  The 
discovery was self-explanatory.  The suspect had taken the next 
dangerous step.  He was armed and could be anywhere in the DC Area.  
Mulder surveyed the room one more time as they stood there in the 
center with the new evidence in hand.  His eye caught on the other 
items McCracken had pulled from the floor of the closet, and he moved 
to take a look at them.  His foot caught on a strap sticking out from 
the dark closet, and he leaned down to pick it up, pulling out a video 
camera case with the camera still inside.  No doubt the same camera 
used to videotape them at Scully's apartment the night before... 

Mulder's heartbeat increased and he suddenly had the strong impulse to 
get going.  Putting two and two together, he realized that Mathers was 
packing heat and he may try to make good on his threats.

He had to get to Scully.  He had to find this guy, and find him now.  
His gaze sought out A.D. Skinner's returning look.  Skinner knew 
Mulder had to move.  He hadn't yet made all the same connections Mulder 
had, but he trusted him enough to know that look meant...

'Don't hold me back.'

"I'll take care of the arrest warrant."  Skinner pulled out his cel 
phone and began barking orders.  "Detective, put out an A.P.B. on 
Donald Mathers.  Subject is believed armed and dangerous, and should be 
approached with caution."

The Assistant Director was empowering his partner to take off, and 
Mulder knew it.  He nodded in acknowledgment and gratitude and headed 
for the door as Skinner finished up in the apartment, pulling out his 
own cel phone as he slipped into the hallway.

Scully's cel phone rang through on his end four times, then her voice 
mail picked up.  Mulder muttered "damn!" under this breath and spoke 
after the sound of the tone.  "Scully, it's me.  Listen, we've got 
enough on Mathers to arrest him - Skinner has called in the warrant.  
He's armed, Scully, and I think he may be coming after you.  If you're 
still at work, stay there.  If not, meet me at my apartment.  I'm on my 
way there right now."

He stepped out of the Watergate lobby into the evening dusk, and with 
single-minded urgency, strode over to the curb and hailed a cab.  He 
looked down at his phone and noticed the message indicator was on, 
telling him he had a message waiting for him.  Retrieving the message, 
the electronic voice told him was from that afternoon, but all he could 
make out of the recorded message was static.  Scully's voice cut in on 
several difference syllables in between the static, but he couldn't 
make out any specific word, let alone her message.

When they pulled up in front of his building, Mulder noticed Scully's 
car was in the same position it had been in that morning.  He looked up 
at the window, hoping that by sheer force of will she'd appear.  Before 
the taxi could come to a complete stop in the passenger zone in front 
of Mulder's building, he had paid the driver and jumped out.  He was up 
the steps and through the entrance before the car could pull away from 
the curb.



The last rays of the sunset were still glowing in the sky when Scully 
turned onto the long driveway leading to Senator Harman's estate.  She 
hadn't noticed when she and Mulder had been there in the daylight, but 
now with dusk descending she could see clear lights sparkling in the 
dogwood trees, making it appear almost like something out of a fairy-
tale.

She parked Mulder's car in front of the house and was met at the door 
of the main house by the Senator himself.

"Agent Scully.  Nice to see you again."  He drawled, holding his hand 
out as a sign for her to enter the house.

Scully felt she had stepped into the pages of a Ralph Lauren catalog.  
The foyer was circular, with a large intricately carved round walnut 
table in the center topped by a huge bouquet of roses, no doubt from 
the Senator's own garden.  There were two paintings opposite each other 
depicting fox hunting scenes.  The floor was white marble.

The Senator directed her through a doorway on the left, which turned 
out to be a hallway leading to a large room filled with books.  There 
was a comfortable but expensive looking saddle leather sofa with a 
burgundy and dark green horse blanket draped along the back, and 
directly opposite sat two large tapestry wing back chairs covered in a 
colorful fox-hunt motif print.  One large corner of the room was a 
dedicated bar carved out of walnut and boasting an enormous variety of 
full liquor bottles, crystal glasses and a few brass accessories, 
including a beer tap.

"Agent Mulder wasn't able to join us?"  The Senator asked, leading her 
to one of the wingback chairs. 

"I'm afraid not." Scully replied as she took her seat.  "Thank you for 
seeing me on such short notice, Senator." 

The Senator nodded pleasantly, sitting on the sofa opposite her.  "I 
imagine this has something to do with the investigation you and your 
partner are working on.  Have you been able to find what you've been 
looking for?"

Scully hesitated a moment.  "Actually, we may have a break in the case. 

That's why I'm here."  She sat up straighter in her chair and licked 
her lips quickly.  "Senator, what can you tell me about Donald 
Mathers?"

"Donald Mathers?"  The Senator said, surprised.  "Donald was my staff 
assistant until about a year ago.  He took a position with a public 
relations firm in DC."

Scully nodded, shifting in the chair.  She proceeded discreetly.  
"Senator, is there any truth to the rumor that Donald Mathers left your 
employment over an indiscretion involving his girlfriend at the time, 
Stephanie Curtis?"

The Senator's eyes closed a moment, and he dropped his chin slightly.  
Then he looked back at Scully with a look of regret.  "I believe my 
indiscretion fed the media for several months when it became public 
knowledge."

Scully watched him, trying to maintain a sympathetic demeanor.  "So 
you're saying the rumors were true?"

He looked at her a moment, stood, and crossed the room to the bar.  
"Would you like a drink, Agent Scully?"

"No thank you."  She replied, watching him and waiting for a reply.

He poured himself a short glass of something that looked like it might 
be Scotch, took a sip and returned to the sofa.  "Donald was in love 
with Stephanie.  The kind of love that becomes almost obsessive.  She 
didn't return the sentiment and he blamed me for it.  I admit I didn't 
handle the situation in the most appropriate way, and I've paid a price 
for it.  My hope for Donald is that he's been able to put it behind him 
like I have."

Scully drew in a breath.  "Senator, I believe that Donald Mathers still 
blames you.  I believe he's murdered at least three, possibly four 
people with the intent of framing you to take the fall."

The Senator was visibly affected by the statement, but before he could 
reply a tall, attractive dark haired woman who appeared to be in her 
middle to late forties entered the room.

"Rob, is something the matter?"  She asked, her face showing her 
concern.

The Senator looked up, his face becoming more relaxed as his eyes met 
hers.  "Diane, I'd like you to meet Special Agent Scully from the FBI."

The woman turned toward her and Scully stood, holding out her hand.  
They shook hands and the woman smiled.  "Agent Scully, it's nice to 
finally meet you.  I'm sorry you and your partner weren't able to 
accept my invitation to dinner last month."

Scully looked surprised a moment, then smiled.  "No, we were tied up 
with a case.  But thank you for thinking of us, Mrs. Harman."  She 
didn't mention that the invitation had been in her name only.  It was 
probably just a secretarial error.

Mrs. Harman was dressed casually in slacks and a soft blue blouse, 
accenting her blue eyes.  She wore her hair in a style similar to 
Scully's, only a bit longer, and there was an elegance about her that 
spoke of society and old money.

"It was my hope, by inviting you and your partner to dinner, Agent 
Scully, that we might be able to discuss the case you spoke with my 
husband about, involving the deaths of Steven Hoyt and his friend, Lisa 
Lewis."

Scully let out her breath and nodded.  "That is why I'm here.  I 
believe our suspect may have been trying to frame the Senator for those 
deaths."

Senator Harman looked at his wife, taking the hand she had placed on 
his knee in between his two hands.  "Diane, the FBI suspects that 
Donald Mathers is involved in Steven's and Lisa's deaths."

Mrs. Harman looked shocked. "Donald?"  She glanced from her husband to 
Scully and back.  "I can't believe it.  Donald is a nice, soft-spoken 
man.  He and Steven were friends."

Scully closed her eyes a moment, then looked back at the couple.  "Have 
you had any contact with him in the last year?"

They were both silent for a moment, scanning their memories for the 
answer.  Neither came up with an answer other than a slight shake of 
the head.

"Senator," Scully continued, "When you last spoke with Donald Mathers, 
did he give you any indication that he harbored a grudge toward you?"

The Senator blew out a puff of air and glanced sideways at his wife.  
"Donald said some things in the heat of the moment.  He was upset.  No 
one took his words to mean anything more than angry ranting."

"What did he say?"  Scully coaxed, her voice gentle.

The Senator and his wife exchanged a look, and Mrs. Harman replied.  
"We were hosting a fundraising dinner that Steven had coordinated.  
Donald hadn't been himself all evening.  Some of the men had stepped 
out onto the terrace to enjoy the box of cigars that one of the guests 
had brought Robert as a gift.  Donald began berating Robert, speaking 
in a manner that was objectionable and highly inappropriate in mixed 
company, let alone to one's employer and friend.  I won't repeat his 
entire speech, but at the end he told Robert, 'You'll go down.'"  Mrs. 
Harman's eyes met Scully's.  "Agent Scully, is Robert in any danger?"  
Her voice was calm, but her eyes showed her fear.

Scully paused.  "I don't believe he is, but I would suggest that you 
both exercise a little caution until we talk with him.  Agent Mulder is 
trying to reach him now for questioning.  It appears that his intention 
is to publicly and/or politically ruin the Senator's reputation."

Mrs. Harman looked at her husband and gave his hand a squeeze.  He gave 
her a reassuring look that only came from years of silent 
communication.

"Agent Scully," he said, "Diane and I are both grateful to you for 
sharing this information with us.  We'll give you and the Bureau our 
full cooperation in any way necessary to help you close this 
investigation and bring Donald Mathers to justice."

Scully stood to leave, feeling the Harman's anxiety over the turn of 
events as they bade her farewell.  "Thank you, Senator...Mrs. Harman.  
Agent Mulder or I will be in touch as soon as we hear anything."  



Scully was not waiting inside his apartment as he'd hoped, and there 
was no sign that she'd been there since they left for work together 
that morning.  Mulder rubbed a hand over his chin and sat on the sofa, 
his apprehension growing.  Picking up his telephone he dialed her 
apartment, but after several rings her answering machine picked up.

"Hey Scully, it's me."  He paused in case she might be screening her 
calls.  "Scully, if you're there, pick up.  It's urgent."  He paused 
again.  "Alright, when you get this message call me."  He paused, his 
voice becoming softer.  "Call me, okay?"

He hung up and dropped the handset on the coffee table, running both of 
his hands through his hair and hooking them together behind his head.  
Leaning back, he looked up at the ceiling.

Something didn't feel right.

He couldn't bring himself to even entertain the thought that the one 
sexual encounter between them had changed anything.  When she left him 
at the boutique that afternoon, things were fine.  They hadn't actually 
confirmed plans for that evening, but he knew she wouldn't be avoiding 
him, either.  He picked up the phone again and dialed the Bureau Crime 
Lab on the off chance that she might still be there.

Agent Ross picked up the phone.

"It's Agent Mulder."  He said, "is Agent Scully around?"

Agent Ross paused.  "I haven't seen her since around six.  She might 
have gone with Danny and some of the others over to the hospital to see 
Agent Mancina and the baby."

Mulder's tension eased a little.  "Do you know which hospital?"

"Uh, yeah.  Georgetown."

Mulder muttered his thanks and dialed information for the number to 
Georgetown Medical Center, then asked for Obstetrics and Agent 
Mancina's room.

"Hello?"  Agent Mancina answered with a chuckle.  The sound of 
chattering and cooing could be heard in the background.

"Hey, Mancina, it's Mulder."

"Hey, gorgeous!  Thanks for the flowers."

Mulder forced himself through the pleasantries.  "You're welcome.  How 
are you and the little guy?"

The sound of a newborn wailing could be heard in the background.  "Oh, 
we're just great.  You hear that?  He's gonna be a rock singer."

"Great."  He forced a laugh.  "Hey, is Scully there by any chance?"

"Lost your partner again, Mulder?"  Mancina's voice was a bit muffled 
as she asked if anyone had seen Dana.  Someone replied and she came 
back on the line.  "Danny said Scully had something to do this evening 
so she wasn't able to join us."

Mulder let out a breath of frustration.  "Alright, thanks.  Did she 
happen to mention where she was going?"

Mancina asked the room if Dana had mentioned to anyone where she might 
be going, then said, "No, sorry.  Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, fine.  I just need to speak with her, that's all."  Mulder said. 

"Thanks, Mancina.  Can't wait to see the little guy."

She said goodbye and he disconnected the phone again and tossed it on 
the coffee table.  Standing, he paced the floor like a caged tiger.  He 
stopped in the middle of the room and stared at the phone, sucking on 
his lower lip.  Then he grabbed the handset and dialed.

"Lone Gunmen."  Frohike answered.

"It's Mulder.  Is Scully there?"

Frohike chuckled.  "Wouldn't YOU like to know?"

"Cut the bullshit, Frohike.  I need to talk to her."

Frohike heard the tension in Mulder's voice and his voice became 
concerned.  "Hey, ease off, G-Man, she's not here.  What's going on?"

Mulder signed, plopping down into the chair behind him.  "I got this 
cryptic message on my cel that was about 95 percent static, and she's 
not answering her cel.  I've tried her apartment and work but the most 
I could find out was she told somebody that she had something to do 
this evening."

"Maybe she has a date."  Frohike's weak joke was met with stony 
silence.  "Did you try her mother?"

"No, I don't want to worry her unless I absolutely have to.  He glanced 
over at his desk and saw Scully's car keys on top of a stack of files.  
"Listen, if you hear from her, tell her to call me on my cel, alright?  
I'm gonna go over to her apartment and see if she's been there."

"Does this have anything to do with that A.P.B. the Bureau put out on 
Donald Mathers this afternoon?"

"How did-" Mulder stopped, remembering that the Gunmen scanned all of 
the police channels in the DC Metropolitan area.  "Christ, I hope not." 

He swallowed.  "Listen, do me a favor."  He paused, his voice tight.  
"Call the local hospitals and find out if anyone matching her 
description has been admitted in the last couple of hours."

Frohike was somber.  "Sure thing.  Don't worry, man, she's probably out 
at the mall or something."

Mulder rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms.  "Yeah, probably.  
Let me know if you hear anything."

"Yeah, okay."

Mulder tossed the phone back down on the coffee table and blinked 
bleary-eyed at the clock on his desk.  There was a gnawing in his gut 
that told him that something was wrong, and the longer he went without 
hearing from Scully, the worse the feeling became.  



Scully left the Harman's estate with a completely different opinion of 
the Senator than the one she arrived there with.  Despite his affection 
for attractive younger women, the Senator seemed to love his wife 
deeply.  To the observer, it looked like a love that went far beyond 
the physical distractions of sex.  It came from years of knowing and 
loving someone.

It was similar to the love that she and Mulder shared, or at least, she 
liked to think that they were like that.  They had a deep-rooted bond 
from years of working side-by-side against enormous odds and in life-
threatening situations.  The sex was new but the emotions were very 
old.

She drove through the darkness, deep in thought, oblivious to the 
countryside and the glittering stars above.  A few cars passed in the 
opposite direction but she paid them no attention as her mind replayed 
the sweet memory of Mulder making love to her that morning.

When the car came up behind her she might not have noticed it unless 
she had a reason to believe she was being followed.  The headlights 
were off and there were no street lamps and very little moonlight to 
grant her visual aid.  At the initial impact she was jolted out of her 
musing, her body lurching forward but restrained by the seatbelt.  She 
touched the brakes out of reflex and looked to the rear-view, trying to 
make out the source of the impact.

The second impact tossed her harder against the restraints, bruising 
her sternum from the pressure and knocking her head painfully against 
the side window, sending her into the opposite lane of traffic.  The 
headlights bearing down on her made her gasp and swerve, and the last 
thing she saw before the airbag exploded in her face and everything 
went dark was the muddy water of the roadside irrigation ditch.


END CHAPTER ELEVEN

*X*X*X*X*

CHAPTER TWELVE

We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;
  How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly!-yet soon
  Night closes round, and they are lost for ever:

Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings
  Give various response to each varying blast,
To whose frail frame no second motion brings
  One mood or modulation like the last.

We rest.-A dream has power to poison sleep;
  We rise.-One wandering thought pollutes the day;
We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep;
  Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away:

It is the same!-For, be it joy or sorrow,
  The path of its departure still is free:
Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow;
  Nought may endure but Mutability.
- Percy Bysshe Shelley


Mulder was almost to Scully's apartment in Georgetown when his cel 
phone trilled on the seat next to him.  He grabbed the phone and 
punched the 'talk' button.

"Scully?"  He asked anxiously.

"I'm trying to reach Agent Mulder."  The voice was male - familiar, but 
he couldn't place it.

"Yeah, this is Mulder."  He replied, recovering.  "Who's this?"

"Agent Mulder, Detective McCracken.  Hey, I was just down getting 
coffee and our boys picked up a 911 call to the Falls Church PD on the 
scanner.  They said there'd been an accident and EMTs were requested 
for a female victim.  They ran a trace on the vehicle involved in the 
accident and it came back registered to you."

Mulder hit the brakes on Scully's car hard and skidded to a stop, his 
heart seemingly stopping along with it.  He turned the car around and 
headed for I-66.  "Falls Church, you said?"

"Falls Church.  Do you need me to send any back up?"

Mulder gunned the accelerator as he entered the Interstate.  "I don't 
know yet.  I should be there in about ten minutes."  He disconnected 
the call and tossed the cel phone back to the passenger seat, sucking 
in a deep breath.

In the country darkness he could see the red glow from the emergency 
vehicles long before he reached the scene.  He hit the accelerator 
pedal harder and raced to the site, pulling up behind two Falls Church 
police cars and cutting the engine as he opened his door.  He jogged 
forward, slowing as he saw his car resting in the ditch in front of the 
police vehicles, noticing the smashed-in rear fender, the deployed 
airbag and the blood against the side window.  Despite feeling as if 
the wind had been knocked out of him, he sprinted the rest of the way 
to the paramedic van.

Scully was sitting on the back of the van, answering questions as a 
paramedic tended to her head injury and a Falls Church uniformed police 
officer stood nearby taking notes as she responded.  Her pants and 
shoes were covered with mud, and there was a track of blood trickling 
down the side of her face.  Another uniformed police officer was 
speaking with a middle-aged man near a Mercedes further down the road.

When she saw Mulder appear around the side of the paramedic vehicle her 
first reaction was to sit up straighter, giving him a look with her 
eyes to convey that she was fine.  His eyes were dark with fear and he 
stopped, bending at the waist and grabbing his knees as he sucked in 
several deep breaths of air to try and catch his breath.  When he 
looked back up at her, his face awash with relief and emotion.

Upon closer examination, Scully wore an expression of irritation and 
embarrassment, like a child who had knowingly gotten caught 
misbehaving.  Mulder straightened and stepped closer to her, still 
breathing heavy.

"What happened?"  He asked.

Scully didn't meet his gaze.  "I was run off the road."  Her voice was 
defensive, but vulnerable instead of sharp.

He took in few more breaths.  "Did you see who it was?"

She closed her eyes and he knew then that she hadn't seen the 
perpetrator.  But there was more than that.  She was blaming herself 
for the incident.

"Scully..."

She looked away, wincing as the paramedic swabbed her temple with 
antiseptic.  "I'm fine, Mulder."

He stood with his hands on his hips, shuffling from foot to foot as his 
irritation grew.  He didn't expect her to throw herself into his arms.  
Hell, he was just damn glad she was alright.  But he had thought that 
they were past this self-sufficiency bullshit.  He looked down the road 
to where the uniformed officer was speaking with the middle-aged 
gentleman, and pulling his I.D. out of his back jeans pocket, he strode 
over to them.

"I'm Special Agent Mulder with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.  My 
partner is the woman who was driving the car, MY car.  Are you a 
witness?"

The gentleman was kind looking, with light brown hair and brown eyes 
that were a bit glassy from the shock of a near-miss in what very 
easily could have been a fatal accident.  "As I told the officer, I 
didn't see the other car until it passed me on the road."

Mulder nodded.  "Can you start over, from the beginning?"  He glanced 
at the police officer, who took in a breath of frustration, but nodded 
his assent.

The man looked from the officer to Mulder, and sighed.  "My name is 
Geoffrey Roberts.  I was on my way home from the airport - I'm just 
returning from a business trip to Chicago."  He paused, looking at 
Mulder for acknowledgement before continuing.  "I could see her car 
coming toward me in the distance, and the car swerved a bit, just 
enough to attract my attention.  As I got closer, the car swerved 
again, this time right into my lane, and I hit the brakes.  The lady 
driving was quick to respond, and drove right into the irrigation 
ditch.  I swear, we would have hit head-on if she hadn't been so 
quick."  He looked up at Mulder, who was watching him with steely eyes, 
his jaw set.  "Another car passed mine, just behind her, with no lights 
on."  He drew in a shaky breath, running a hand over his face.  "If I'd 
swerved into her lane to avoid hitting her, I would have been hit head-
on by that car.  Either way, I'd be dead on the road."

Mulder nodded with compassion.  "Did you see the driver of the other 
car?"

The man shook his head.  "No, it all happened so fast.  I think it was 
a dark sedan, but beyond that I can't tell you much else."

"You called in the accident?"  Mulder asked.

"Yeah, I have a cel phone because I'm on the road so much.  I called it 
in to 911 and ran over to check on the driver.  She was unconscious for 
a few minutes, but came to and climbed out of the car just as the 
police arrived."

Mulder looked at the uniformed officer.  "Did you get any paint samples 
off of the car..." he peered down at the man's name tag "...Officer 
Moore?"

Moore looked at him in the blank way uniformed officers were known to 
do.  "No Sir.  As this is a no fatality hit-and-run we usually leave 
the investigation up to the insurance companies."

Mulder chewed on the inside of his cheek and looked at Moore.  He 
was young, and obviously inexperienced.  "This is a hit and run 
involving a Federal Agent of the United States Government, Son.  That 
makes it a Federal crime.  Now, either you boys get somebody out here 
who knows what they're doing to collect evidence, or I'll call it in 
and get my men to do it."

Moore looked sheepish, and Mulder turned his attention back to Mr. 
Roberts.  He pulled a business card out from behind the badge in his 
I.D. wallet and handed it to the man.  "Here's my number.  If you 
think of anything else regarding the other vehicle, please call me."  
Then he turned toward the officer.  "I assume you'll be filing a full 
report?"  He asked, pointedly.

"Yes Sir."  The officer replied stiffly.

Mulder turned and stalked back toward the paramedic vehicle, where 
Scully was standing alone with her arms crossed in front of her.  "I'm 
done here.  Can we go?"  She asked crankily when he was within earshot.

He stopped in front of her, a wall of Mulder with his hands on his 
hips, looking her over with irritation in his eyes, along with 
something else.  Disappointment?  He gave a terse jerk of his head 
toward her car and said, "Let's go."

Except for the brief call Mulder made to Detective McCracken explaining 
the situation, they both were silent as Mulder drove them back into the 
city.  He was angrily clutching the steering wheel tightly with both 
hands, and she was staring out the passenger window, her arms crossed 
in front of her - feeling sheepish and pissed.

Scully was waging an internal battle, one where she silently berated 
herself for allowing this to happen.  Because it wasn't her case and 
she had no reason to be out in the Virginia countryside in the first 
place.  Because like a schoolgirl, she'd been daydreaming about Mulder 
instead of paying attention to the road.  And like a schoolgirl who 
borrowed her parents' car without asking and then would have to pay the 
consequences, she'd wrecked Mulder's car.  Then to add insult to 
injury, Mulder had to come and rescue her.

But that wasn't the end of it.  Mulder had passed the turnoff to go to 
her apartment, which meant that either she dropped him off at his 
apartment and drove herself home, or she came up and spent the night 
with him.  Considering the fact that someone had run her off of the 
road, whether or not it had anything to do with the anonymous telephone 
calls he'd received, there wasn't a chance in Hell he'd let her leave 
his apartment alone.

He'd want to talk about it, obviously.  That was the last thing she 
wanted to do, as she wasn't in control of her emotions, feeling both 
stupid and defensive.  

He glanced over at her when he noticed her look up at the exit to 
Georgetown.  She glanced at him when he turned back to watch the road.  
After a long period of silence, he finally spoke.

"What's this all about, Scully?"

She laid her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes with a 
sigh, opting to steer the conversation to the least emotional topic she 
could think of.  "I'm sorry about your car."  She said with 
resignation.

He bit his lip and held on to his composure, although he seriously 
wanted to pound his fist against the steering wheel.  "I don't give a 
FUCK about the car, Scully."

She didn't open her eyes, but she inhaled a deep breath through her 
nose.  "I'll pay the deductible, anyway."

He gritted his teeth and pulled up to his building, throwing the car 
into 'park' and turning to face her.  "Damnit, Scully!  Talk to me!"

She opened her eyes and looked at him, her defenses flaring.  "What do 
you want me to say, Mulder?  That I screwed up?  That I shouldn't have 
been in Falls Church in the first place?  That I should have been 
sitting dutifully in your apartment with a casserole in the oven, 
waiting for you to come home from work?"

His left arm was resting atop the steering wheel and he laid his 
forehead against his bicep.  When he looked up at her, his eyes were 
weary.  "You're still angry because I got Danny to ask for your help in 
the lab."

She rolled her eyes and threw open the door, launching herself out of 
the car.  He followed suit and watched her over the roof of the car, 
biting his lip.  She met his gaze.  "I'm not angry, Mulder."  She said. 

"I just don't know how to do this."

He released his lip from his teeth and shook his head.  "Do what?"

She sighed with frustration and looked down at the ground a moment.  
"This!"  She gestured between them.  "I don't know how I factor into 
this equation anymore!"

He looked at her silently, reading her face.  "You're my partner."  He 
said quietly.

"Am I?"  She asked, slamming the car door and leaning forward on her 
palms against it.  "I sure as Hell don't FEEL like your partner, 
Mulder."  She turned and headed for the front door of his building and 
he followed her.

"You KNOW this is only temporary."  He said from behind her.  She threw 
open the lobby door and punched the elevator call button.  Mulder 
caught up with her just as the elevator doors opened and they both 
stepped into the car.  She jabbed the button for the fourth floor and 
turned to face him.  "The work, or all of it?"

He studied her expression.  "Meaning, what?"

She looked at the floor with her lips pursed, thinking.  "When we 
decided that we were going to make this..." she looked up, waving her 
hand between them, "...more than what it had been, we discussed a few 
reasons why we should move on to the next level, for lack of a better 
term.  Reasons that were by and large hormonal.  What we should have 
discussed was timing."

He crossed his arms in front of him.  "After seven years, don't you 
think that timing is a moot point?"

The elevator opened and she stepped out, walking toward his apartment 
with him a step behind.  "No, Mulder, after seven years, timing is 
everything."

Her words sounded hauntingly like the words Leslie Martin had spoken to 
him.  They stopped in front of his door and he leaned against it, 
facing her.  "What are you suggesting here, Scully?"  He asked.  

She looked up at him and sighed.  "Why did we wait seven years in the 
first place, Mulder?  We had a strong partnership with a high solve 
rate.  We got to the bottom of the conspiracy and the men behind it.  
We got the X Files back and our credibility along with it.  Why this, 
why now?"

He watched her and listened intently, although his body was a mass of 
perpetual motion.  He noticed that not one time did she mention 
feelings.  Everything was presented to him in cold, hard facts.  No 
love, no caring.  No desire.

Just facts.

He could feel a physical pain tightening his chest.  Turning away from 
her, he inserted the key into the lock and threw the door open, 
storming inside, this time leaving her to follow him.  He stopped in 
his living room, and with his hands on his hips, he hung his head, 
kicking at the carpet.

"Maybe you're right, Scully."  He said softly, looking over at her.  
"Maybe this was a bad idea."

She felt as if a knife had been turned in her own chest and moisture 
rose in her eyes as she looked at him, then past him, her lips pursing. 

She was about to say that he was reading more into her statement than 
she intended when he brushed past her and went into the kitchen, 
opening a cabinet and then pouring a glass of water.  When he came 
back, he handed her the glass along with two white capsules.

"Here, it's Tylenol.  If your head doesn't hurt now, it will."  He sat 
on the sofa, grabbing the remote and switching on the television and 
tuning her out.  "You can take the first shower."

She paused, staring at the two small capsules in her hand, then popped 
the Tylenol into her mouth and took a long drink.  She took the glass 
into the kitchen and set it in the sink, then grabbed her overnight bag 
from the living room and disappeared into the bathroom without another 
word.



Scully stepped out of the shower and carefully toweled off, feeling the 
Tylenol she'd swallowed taking effect.  She towel dried her hair and 
slid on her white silk pajamas, cracking the bathroom door to allow 
some of the steam to dissipate, when she heard the phone ring.  Pushing 
the door open a bit wider, she listened to find out if the call was 
about the case.  Mulder picked it up in the bedroom.

"Frohike!  God, I forgot.  Sorry."  Mulder's voice was rough, perhaps a 
shade hoarse.  "No, she's fine.  Really."  His voice became softer and 
she had to strain to hear.  "Yeah, but it's not important. It's just a 
car.  She's alright, that's all that matters."  His voice got louder 
again, his tone defensive.  "Hey, I'm sorry, alright!  I really 
appreciate your help.  Scully does, too."  

Scully dropped her head, feeling her cheeks growing warm as shame and 
regret washed over her.  Wrapped up in her own guilt and selfish 
concerns, she hadn't fully considered what Mulder must have been going 
through as he drove to the scene of the accident.  He was already 
vulnerable about her safety, from the Padgett case and the residual 
nightmares, and the shock of having her virtual twin die while he held 
her helplessly in his arms.  She was so used to Mulder fending for 
himself that she'd effectively shut him out at a time when he'd really 
needed her emotional support.  And she was the one who not so long ago 
had accused him of not being emotionally available.

"Yeah, I'll tell her.  Thanks."  She heard Mulder replace the handset 
and she stepped out of the bathroom, stealing a glance at him.  He was 
sitting on the bed with his back to her, his head hung and his 
shoulders slumped.  She felt her chest constrict as she stepped back 
into the bathroom and silently closed the door, looking at herself in 
the mirror.

'Nice going, partner.'  She admonished herself angrily.  She stared at 
her reflection a moment, as if sheer will could erase the damage done 
by just a few hastily spoken words.  Then she drew in a breath and 
straightened her shoulders, admitting to herself that the only thing 
she could do now was to open herself up and talk to Mulder about what 
happened that evening, including her own ugly behavior, whatever the 
consequences.



Feeling stronger and more together after she'd blow-dried her hair, 
Scully stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, prepared for 
the impending conversation with Mulder.  He wasn't there, so she went 
looking for him, finding him in the kitchen, stripped down to his boxer 
briefs and washing a glass in the sink.

She ran her eyes over the smooth, golden skin of his back, watching the 
muscles tense and shift as he moved his arms.  He could feel, or rather 
sense her standing behind him, and he sighed resignedly, "You can have 
the bed, Scully.  I'm too wired to sleep right now, anyway.  I'll crash 
on the sofa."

He didn't turn around to face her, so he wasn't able to see the 
expression of sorrow that colored her face, or the tears that came 
readily at his sad resignation.  She moved slowly toward him, sliding 
her arms around his waist and pressing herself against him gently.  She 
buried her cheek between his shoulder blades and sighed, stilling his 
motions.

"Sometimes I think there is something seriously wrong with me, Mulder." 

She said quietly, her voice muffled against his skin.  "I don't know 
why there are times when I feel like I have to push you away, when I 
should be more open and honest about what I'm feeling.  I really do 
love you, more than I can ever find the words to say."

There was a long period of silence.  "You're not doing a bad job right 
now."  He replied, finally.

"I want to do so much better, Mulder.  You deserve so much better."  
She stepped back as she felt him turn, wrapping his arms around her and 
gently pulling her against his chest.  She sniffed and he realized that 
she was crying.

"Shhh."  He said, pressing his lips against her head, still warm from 
the hair dryer.  "I know.  Shhhh."

"I wasn't paying attention to the road, Mulder.  I should have been 
watching for someone following me.  I was thinking about..." she 
paused, then forced herself to continue.  "...about you.  And about 
this morning."

He smiled at the memory, pressing a kiss against her head once more.  
He thought he understood now why she was trying to separate herself 
from her emotions in this situation.  "I know."  He said.  "but you 
could have been thinking about a million other things just as easily.  
The truth is, you just didn't expect to be followed."

"But I've been trained..."

"Shh."  He said.  "You're allowed, Scully.  If it makes you feel any 
better, the man who phoned in the accident to the police says you saved 
his life.  He said it was your quick reflexes that saved him from a 
head-on collision with the car that ran you off the road."

She took a deep breath and let it out.  "I spoke with Senator Harman 
and his wife."

He lifted his head, and she laid her chin on his chest, looking up at 
him for a response.  When he turned his eyes back to her, they were a 
warm green.  "What did they have to say?"

Taking another breath, she pulled back, her hands resting gently on his 
hips as his hands traced circles over her shoulder blades.  "That there 
had been a falling out between the Senator and Donald Mathers over 
Stephanie Curtis.  That Mathers had publicly threatened the Senator, 
telling him he'd pay for it."

Mulder looked across the room, his mind quickly drawing conclusions.  
"We've got enough on this guy to indict him.  I just wish we could find 
him before he does any more damage."

She watched him a moment.  "There's something else, Mulder.  Mrs. 
Harman told me she sent the invitation to dinner.  To both of us.  She 
said she intended for the four of us to sit down and discuss what 
happened to Lisa Lewis and Steven Hoyt.  That perhaps they may have 
been able to shed more light on the investigation."

Mulder pulled back and looked at her, his expression puzzled.  "Does 
that sound a little odd to you?"

She looked up at him, her brow furrowed.  "Well, it didn't when she 
said it earlier."

"Why didn't she just call and say that was her intention?  And if 
Mathers is the one who made the anonymous calls, how would he know 
about the invitation?"

"Did he actually say anything about the invitation in the call?"

He thought a moment.  "No.  He said you should choose your refusals 
more carefully."

"Mulder, that could be interpreted at least a dozen ways."

He looked at her a moment and nodded.  "You're right, Scully.  Maybe 
he's still in contact with someone on the Senator's staff who gave him 
the information.  Regardless, he's our guy."

"I take it your search of his apartment was successful?"  She asked, 
eyebrows raised.

"It was like winning the lottery."  He said with a smirk.  "The sooner 
we get Donald Mathers into custody, the sooner you and I get back to 
investigating X Files."  He kissed her forehead, dropped his arms and 
stepped out of her embrace.  Moving over to the refrigerator, he pulled 
open the door, bending to look inside.  "Have you eaten?"  He asked as 
he poked at some of the items on the shelves.

She gazed at him in admiration.  He had forgiven her so much easier 
than she'd forgiven herself.  "No."  She replied as her wide eyes 
traveled over his broad back and lingered on his tight bottom.  She 
couldn't help herself.  Stepping up behind him, she slowly grazed the 
tips of her fingernails down his back, over the roundness of his butt, 
and reaching out to cup a cheek in each hand, gave him a gentle 
squeeze.  "You have a fabulous ass, Mulder."

It was stated more as a fact than a come on.  He looked over his 
shoulder at her with dark eyes, a surprised look on his face.  His eyes 
issued a challenge as he turned and faced her, his hands hanging 
loosely at his sides.  "Like what you see, Scully?"  He rasped, his 
voice dark.

Accepting his unspoken challenge, she crossed her arms in front of her 
and looked from his face down to his feet and back up again, taking in 
the shadows and contours of his bare, sculpted physique.  Smooth golden 
skin and dark, wiry hair completed by the impressive erection already 
growing inside of his boxer briefs, washboard stomach, razor stubble 
and topped off with a head of messy hair that had seen one too many 
finger-combings.  

He looked better than food.

She put on her skeptical scientist expression, studying him the way she 
would a piece of evidence or a cadaver she was about to cut into.  "You 
know, Mulder, I don't believe I've ever told you..." Her voice was 
clinical, but the husky timbre betrayed more.

"What?"  He asked, the sound of her voice accelerating his arousal.

"I've been hot for your body since the day I met you."  She stepped 
closer to him, pressing her body against his and running her hands up 
his chest lightly as she playfully looked up at him.  He was warm and 
solid in all of the right places, his body heat radiating though the 
silk of her pajamas and warming her from the inside out.

"Is that a pathologist's opinion or is that opinion based on other 
criteria?"  He grinned smugly.  His ego was secretly delighted that 
she'd finally admitted her attraction to him.

"Well, the other criteria are a little hard to ignore at the moment."

His hand went around her waist, pulling her lower body tightly against 
his as he began a slow grind against her, almost a slow dance.  Being 
allowed to touch her like this was still new, and looking into her eyes 
for approval he watched as her pupils grew even larger with arousal.  
Reverently, he reached out to smooth a wild strand of hair back down on 
the side of her head.  She slid her hand behind his neck in response, 
lacing her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and pulling 
his mouth down as hers opened with a hunger that had nothing to do with 
food.  Their kiss was slow and erotic and it grew, hotter and hungrier.

His mouth never left hers as his hands kneaded the flesh of her 
buttocks through white silk.  She slid her hands between his briefs and 
his bare ass, pushing the soft cotton down his thighs as far as she 
could reach without taking her mouth off his.  Finally having to break 
the kiss, she turned her head and looked down at her progress, then 
crouched and pulled the briefs down to his ankles, helping him step out 
of them.  She ran her hands up his thighs and stopped when she reached 
his hips, glancing up at his face a moment before leaning in without 
warning and licking the underside of his attentive cock from the sac to 
the head in one fluid motion.

Mulder sucked in a breath through his teeth with a hiss and cried, 
"Jesus!" as he jumped at the sensation.  He wouldn't last long if she 
kept doing things like that to him.  Scully was looking up at him with 
a glint in her eyes and he grabbed her by the shoulders and 
pulled her to her feet as she slyly reached out a hand to grasp his 
erection.  Shifting his hips before she could get a hold of him, he 
hissed through clenched teeth, "behave yourself or this is going to be 
over very quickly." 

Her eyes sparked with challenge once again and she reached down 
deliberately to take him into her hand, stroking him slowly as she 
looked into his eyes.  "Mmmm, very nice..."

Mulder drew in a breath and looked down at her hand sliding over him 
with a grin.  He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, giving 
himself a moment to regale the incredible sensations her hands inspired 
in his cock.  Then he put his hands on her waist, tucking his fingers 
underneath the waistband of her pajama bottoms and pushing them down 
over her hips.  She shimmied them to her ankles and kicked them across 
the kitchen tile as he lifted her off of the ground, setting her down 
on the kitchen counter.  Open and forgotten, the refrigerator door 
illuminated them, casting its soft yellow light across the cool kitchen 
tile.

Mulder held her face in his hands, looking into her eyes with gentle 
concern.  "Are you sure you're up for this tonight?"

Her eyes gazed back into his, deep blue with arousal.  "Just make love 
to me, Mulder."

He covered her mouth with his, their tongues meeting as their passion 
began to rise.  Dropping one hand down between her legs, he began to 
massage her clit in tiny circles with the pads of his index and middle 
fingers the way that he was quickly learning pleased her most.  She was 
already wet for him and her legs wrapped around his waist, her fingers 
grabbing at the muscles in his hard shoulders as her breathing came 
more rapidly.  It wasn't enough, she wanted more - they both wanted 
more, and within seconds of her moaning his name he was holding her 
behind the knees and thrusting all of the way into her with a long 
groan.

She felt herself being pulled toward him and she grabbed on to the edge 
of the counter for support as he hooked his elbows under her knees and 
pushed them back while spreading her legs farther apart to give him 
deeper penetration.  Grimacing at the intense pleasure he felt at being 
inside of her, he pulled his shoulders back to look down to the place 
where they were joined.  His hands pushed the hem of her pajama top out 
of his line of vision and he pulled out of her almost completely, 
watching in aroused fascination as he disappeared back inside of her, 
repeating the motion several times before looking back into her face.

It was a sight he knew he would never forget as long as he lived.  She 
had been watching as well, her eyes glassy and aroused beyond his 
wildest fantasies.  When their eyes met they exchanged a look of 
incredulity that this was them, that they were actually doing this 
erotic, intimate thing on his kitchen counter. 

Desire to prolong the experience dropped Mulder to his knees, propping 
her feet up on his shoulders and sliding his arms up her thighs so that 
they were now resting on top of his biceps.  His forearms lay across 
the tops of her thighs and his hands covered her inner thighs, gently 
spreading her legs wider.  He plunged his tongue into her, licking and 
tasting every part of her like he'd found his Holy Grail.  His mouth 
became more demanding of her flesh and she held on tighter, her 
knuckles turning white until she had to let go to find a better grip.  
She lost her balance and her bottom slid off the counter and almost 
onto Mulder's face but he caught her before she fell, grunting out a 
breathless but concerned, "you okay?"

Her voice was high and toneless, more breathy than anything else.  
"Don't..." she panted, her eyes clenched shut, "God! Don't stop."

He looked back down at the feast before him, opening his mouth and 
starting over, French kissing her labia, his tongue slowly rolling 
across and swirling around her clitoris and plunging into her vagina.  
When he once again grew more insistent and demanding her breathing 
became ragged and he felt her grow stiff, nearly humming as she 
balanced on the edge of orgasm.

He could have easily finished her off, but he pulled away.  Her eyes 
flew open and she looked at him wildly, too wound up to demand he 
return to his task.  Standing, he slowly entered her once again, 
kissing her languorously as he did so. "Love you..." he whispered 
against her lips with a low and throaty tone. 

She groaned at the renewed connection and her hands came back up to his 
shoulders, fingers digging deeper into the muscles of his back, urging 
him to move as her legs encircled his hips.  Her senses were both 
heightened and hazy through her sex-induced stupor and she spoke his 
name as a caress, her heart and soul poured into that one word.  He 
began pumping into her with long strokes, feeling himself slipping away 
into the haze along with her.  After a half dozen sloppy thrusts her 
head cleared and she pushed against his chest, pulling back.  
"Wait...this position...isn't working for me."

He paused, panting, fighting back his control as he considered his 
options.  Holding her tightly against him, he flipped them around and 
slid to the floor with her astride him.  Scully reached a hand over his 
shoulder to steady herself as her knees banged against the lower 
cabinet, letting out a soft gasp as their impact with the floor drove 
him deeper inside of her, bumping against her cervix.

Taking the lead in her position of control she leaned forward and 
placed a hand on either side of his chest, looking down into his face.  
She set a slow but steady rhythm, his shoulders braced against the 
doors of the lower cabinet and his hips meeting hers in tempo while his 
hands slid up underneath her top to find her breasts.  They watched 
each other under half-closed eyelids, breathing each other's air, 
alternating between smiles and gasps and grinding against one another 
in tandem as the haze slowly descended over them both while the 
pressure built once again.  Mulder clenched his teeth against his 
desire to take control of the movement and she began to pick up the 
pace, her body growing taut as she sat up, holding on to his shoulders 
for support.  Her head fell back as her eyes closed, breathing hard and 
fast.  She whimpered part of his name, then sobbed out "oh...God!" just 
as her legs clamped against his torso and her fingers grasped his 
shoulders tightly before her entire body went rigid.  He could feel her 
inner muscles spasm, pulling him deeper inside of her as she undulated 
around and over him.

She was beautiful when she came and he watched her with awe, his eyes 
shining and his mouth open as she dropped bonelessly against his chest, 
catching her breath.  He was wound so tight he couldn't hold himself 
back any longer, rolling them over until he was on top of her, rutting 
furiously on the cold tile in the soft yellow glow of the refrigerator 
light.  Through half-closed eyes she watched him relentlessly pursue 
his goal - making small noises of effort through his ragged breathing 
and the sounds of wet, slick skin slapping against skin and tile.  He 
clenched his teeth and cried out to a God he didn't believe in with his 
release, finally collapsing over her in a gasping heap of spent limbs 
and perspiration.

She stroked her fingers through his hair and some time later, when the 
last faint spasms finally subsided and after many deep breaths, Mulder 
extracted himself from her with care.  Finding a dishtowel on the 
counter nearby, he toweled himself dry, leaned down and gently patted 
the sticky moisture from between her thighs, and instructed her to 
"lift" as he wiped the remaining residue from the tile underneath her.  
Then he offered his hand to her, smiling broadly while his lungs still 
struggled to compensate for his recent exertion.

She grinned back at him, allowing him to help her to her feet.  She 
wobbled a bit on loose legs and he placed his hands on her shoulders to 
steady her.  They shared a soft, chaste kiss and a caress, leaning 
against each other until Scully gave his arm a squeeze and gravitated 
back toward the open refrigerator.

She rummaged for a few moments before shutting the door and moving on 
to the freezer.  Mulder walked over to the table on tentative, shaky 
legs and sat on a dining chair, awash with feelings of emotional warmth 
and sated contentment as he watched her.  Pulling out a carton of ice 
cream with a triumphant "oh!" and holding it up to him, she smiled 
brilliantly.  "You've got Chunky Monkey!"

"I have ice cream?"  He asked with surprise.  She threw him a smug 
look, grabbed a spoon out of a drawer and moved to his left to slide 
into a chair, but he caught her wrist, tugging her toward him.

"C'mere, Scully."  He crooned in a low tone, her name caressed with 
affection as he pulled her down onto his lap.  She grinned and scooted 
back so that she was sitting solidly across his thighs, her feet barely 
touching the floor.  Spooning out the first scoop of ice cream, she 
offered it to him and he accepted it with a moan.  It went down cold 
and smooth, cooling him in the warm still air of the silent apartment, 
humid and smelling like bananas and sex.  He took the carton and spoon 
out of her hand, scooped out another spoonful and fed it to her.  She 
moaned her approval in turn and grinned back at him as he chuckled 
softly.

"What?"  She asked, her smile growing broader.

"Nothing."

"Mulder, what?"

"Just the look on your face.  You look so...satisfied."

Taking the ice cream and the spoon back again she attentively licked 
the spoon clean before glancing sideways at Mulder, her eye catching 
his mischievously.  "Go ahead, Mulder, we've been intimate.  You can 
say it."  She replied casually, digging the spoon back into the carton.

"Mmmnnff" was his response as he accepted another spoonful.  "Say what? 

That I never saw you smile for this long at one time in all of the 
years we worked together?"  He took the spoon and carton back from her 
and scooped another spoonful.  "That all of these seven years I always 
suspected you'd be the equivalent of sexual dynamite?"    

She deadpanned without missing a beat.  "That what I really needed all 
of this time was just a good hard fuck on the kitchen floor?"

The spoon stopped just in front of her mouth and Mulder's jaw dropped.  
"Scully!"  He whispered, feigning shock but bursting into soft 
laughter along with her, thoroughly delighted at her open playfulness.  
He liked hearing her talk dirty.  With her sharp mind and willing body, 
that was an avenue he definitely wanted to explore in the very near 
future.

Her eyes never left his as she leaned forward to take the spoon into 
her mouth, the action followed by another wide grin.  "I'm not a prude, 
Mulder.  I've just been waiting for the right time and the right man."

He beamed and leaned over, never breaking eye contact as his mouth 
slowly covered her mouth, his tongue leisurely capturing the last 
bit of ice cream on hers.  "I'm so glad you did."  He whispered, 
brushing her hair back from her face and kissing her again as his cel 
phone trilled in the living room. 

She whimpered in protest as they pulled apart.  "Let voicemail get it." 

She whispered against his lips, moving in for another kiss.

He pulled back, frowning.  "I asked Skinner to call me if anything came 
up on Mathers."

She sighed and slid off of his lap with a groan.  "God, I'm going to be 
sore tomorrow."

Mulder strutted proudly across the living room with a grin, picking up 
his phone from the coffee table.  "Mulder."

He listened to the caller, then turned and looked over at Scully, his 
face deceivingly void of expression.  "We'll be right there."  He said, 
thumbing the 'end' button.  He drew in a breath and looked at her a 
moment.  "There's been a fatal shooting at Senator Harman's estate."


END CHAPTER TWELVE

*X*X*X*X*

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Let those who are in favour with their stars
Of public honour and proud titles boast,
Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars,
Unlook'd for joy in that I honour most.
Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread
But as the marigold at the sun's eye,
And in themselves their pride lies buried,
For at a frown they in their glory die.
The painful warrior famoused for fight,
After a thousand victories once foil'd,
Is from the book of honour razed quite,
And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd:
 Then happy I, that love and am beloved
 Where I may not remove nor be removed.
- William Shakespeare, Sonnet XXV


As they raced to the Harman estate they both noticed that all traces of 
Scully's earlier accident had already been removed.  The emergency 
vehicles were gone and Mulder's car had been pulled out of the ditch 
and towed to the Falls Church Police Department impound as evidence.  
Before long they were passing news vans setting up camp the side of the 
road, and Mulder was squinting into a flashlight and showing his badge 
to one of Falls Church's finest standing at the gate at the head of the 
driveway.  As the car tires slowly crunched up the gravel, the lights 
twinkled from the dogwood trees as they passed by, belying the fact 
that this pastoral getaway was now a crime scene in a murder 
investigation.  

It seemed that Scully and Mulder were the last to arrive at the party.  
There were several emergency vehicles - Falls Church P.D., D.C.P.D., 
paramedics, dark sedans that screamed Federal government - and one dark 
sedan with the front grill smashed in.  Scully glanced at Mulder and 
hopped out of the car, striding quickly over to the sedan and examining 
the smashed grill.

"Same color as the paint on my car."  Mulder commented, joining her as 
she used her fingernail to scratch at a corner of a long paint mark 
marring the front bumper.  They exchanged a look and headed to the 
front door, his hand lying gently against her lower back.

The front door was open, barricaded by a band of yellow tape, and there 
were muddy footprints spoiling the pristine white marble floor that 
Scully had admired earlier that evening.  Another uniformed officer 
from the Falls Church P.D. was on hand and they flashed their badges, 
giving him their names for the log.  The sound of voices emanated from 
the room in the back where Scully had spoken with Senator Harman and 
his wife, and she preceded Mulder down the hallway.

The once quiet sanctuary was now chaos, a conglomerate of detectives, 
E.M.T.'s, criminalists, photographers, firearms experts and fingerprint 
experts, most Federal Agents.  Two bodies lay opposite each other, one 
average-sized male stretched across the floor in front of the chair 
where Scully had sat earlier, and one slumped over on the leather sofa.

The body on the sofa was Senator Robert Harman.

It was evident from the scene that the coroner had not yet arrived.  
There was a drawer standing open on the table next to the sofa, a 
loaded 9mm clip lying inside.  From a quick visual analysis of the 
bullet's point of entry on the Senator's chest and the 9mm Glock still 
in the Senator's hand, Scully determined that the Senator had not died 
by his own hand.  There was a corresponding point of exit on the upper 
back of the other victim, and a .38 lying on the Sorayan rug near his 
outstretched arm.

A.D. Skinner was standing with a shaky Diane Harman in the back of the 
room near the bar, his arm around her shoulders as she spoke with 
Detective McCracken and another detective.  Drawing closer to the body 
on the floor, Mulder was kneeling carefully and without touching 
anything, took a better look at the .38 and the man who had fired 
it.

Scully carefully made her way over to the Assistant Director, cautious 
not to disturb anything in the room that might turn out to be evidence 
later on.  As she got closer to Mrs. Harman she noticed the blood 
staining her hands and the front of her dressing gown. 

"...what happened after the first shot was fired?"  Detective 
McCracken was asking Mrs. Harman, flipping over to a new page on his 
notepad.

"Robert slumped back into the sofa, clutching his chest.  I was 
shocked, and before I realized what was happening, Robert had fired 
back at Donald."  Mrs. Harman stated, her voice trembling.  "Donald 
fell to the ground."  She looked up at Skinner a moment, and took a 
deep breath.  "There was a terrible...wheezing sound coming from 
Robert, and so much blood..." she let out a soft sob.  "I ran to him, 
placing my hand over his on his chest to help slow the flow of blood."  
There were tears in her eyes.  "He looked at me, and I could see this 
look in his eyes..." she gasped, sniffing back her tears and leaning 
against the Assistant Director.

Skinner turned his face closer to hers and said softly, "Take your 
time, Diane."

Mrs. Harman sobbed and looked back up, seeing Scully and locking eyes 
with her.  "He was saying goodbye...with his eyes.  I told him to hold 
on, that I would call for help, but before I could even get up he 
slumped back into the sofa and I knew he was gone."

Her voice broke at the end of the sentence and she dropped her chin 
down against her chest.  Scully could feel the moisture rising in her 
own eyes out of a strange and extreme empathy for the Senator's wife.

"What about Mathers?"  McCracken asked.

Mrs. Harman turned her attention back to the detective and sniffed 
again.  "He wasn't moving.  I didn't check him."  She looked up at 
Skinner again, her mouth forming around a horrific 'oh.'  "Oh my God, 
Walter, I didn't check on him.  He may have still been alive."

With that realization, Mrs. Harman began to sob and Skinner looked over 
at Scully.  She met his gaze a moment, turning when Skinner looked up 
at the Coroner entering the room.  Mulder stood and glanced at Scully, 
their eyes meeting and both instinctively moving toward each other.

"It appears that the other victim is Donald Mathers."  Scully said 
softly, leaning in close to Mulder for privacy.  "Mrs. Harman just  
identified the body."

Mulder nodded slightly.  "I'll bet the registration on that dented 
sedan out front will be in Donald Mathers' name as well."



The first rays of sun were coloring the dawn sky lavender as Scully 
stepped out through the French doors separating the crime scene from a 
small patio bordering Senator Harman's rose garden.  Skinner was 
standing off to the right, facing the oncoming sun with his hands in 
his trouser pockets.  He glanced over his shoulder at her as she 
approached, then turned back toward the sun.

When she reached his side, Scully could see that the patio looked out 
over the entire garden, the gazebo and the pastures beyond.  Just 
beneath them, Senator Harman's Sterling roses were covered with dew, 
glistening in the morning light.  It was a magnificent sight.  They 
stood silent, side-by-side for a long time, soaking in the vision.  
Finally, Scully spoke without turning away from the scene before her.

"How long have you known Mrs. Harman?"  She asked, her voice void of 
any accusation.

Skinner was silent a moment longer.  "Diane attended Wellesley with my 
ex-wife.  They were sorority sisters as undergraduates." He squinted as 
the morning sun grew stronger.  "We saw each other socially off and on 
until the divorce."
 
Scully was silent again, her blue eyes squinting against the growing 
brightness as well.  Skinner glanced over at her, noticing that the red 
flush that she wore when she'd arrived still clung to her cheeks, 
although her lips had returned to their usual shape from the puffy, 
swollen shape of earlier.

There was something different about her, and air or an aura that hadn't 
been there before.  He'd seen it in Mulder as well, and had a pretty 
good idea what it meant.  Although he chose not to draw attention to 
the fact that he'd noticed, he hoped that they would be able to make 
their partnership work on all levels.  If any two people stood a chance 
in hell at finding happiness in another person it was these two.  He 
knew he owed it to them now to tell them the truth about the 
investigation band his role in it.

"Diane called me just after Steven Hoyt was picked up for the murder of 
Karen Darby."  He paused, and Scully crossed her arms and turned 
slightly to face him.  "She was afraid that Steven's connections to the 
Senator would alert the media to the situation, further tarnishing the 
Senator's public image."  He lifted his foot up onto a nearby wooden 
bench and leaned onto it.  "She made a personal request, asking me to 
look into the situation, try to keep it out of the press.  I brought 
you and Mulder in because I believed that you would be able to get to 
the heart of the matter quickly and discreetly."

Scully turned back toward the garden, her arms still crossed in front 
of her.  "Why didn't you tell us that in the beginning?"

Skinner looked down at the ground, then turned and faced her.  "I had 
my own suspicions about the Senator's involvement.  I wanted to make 
sure that you and Mulder approached it just like any other case, 
without any preconceived ideas or obligations."

Scully squinted up at him.  "You believed Senator Harman was 
responsible?"

Skinner shook his head slightly.  "Not directly.  I've known Rob Harman 
for a long time.  It was no secret he had a weakness for the ladies.  
But he had a good heart, and he really cared about people.  I suspected 
he may have had ties to Hansen House, but I didn't want to believe he 
could be involved in murder."

She let out a breath and watched as a grazing horse wandered into view 
on the pasture far beyond the gazebo.  It made sense, and although she 
wished he had told them the situation up front, she understood why he 
didn't.  Anyway, she was too tired to care.  She had been up all night 
on her feet and the bump on her head had been throbbing for the past 
two hours.  She felt grungy and sticky from sex and sweat, the 
afterglow long since worn off, and was so wrapped up in her fatigue 
that she hadn't noticed that Mulder had joined them on the patio until 
she turned her head and saw him standing to her left.

What remained of the case was the tying up of loose ends.  From the 
evidence they'd help collect throughout the early morning hours, it 
appeared that Donald Mathers had shown up at the Senator's estate 
directly after running Scully off the road.  He had spoken with the 
Senator and his wife, the conversation escalating into a quarrel, and 
Mathers had pulled a gun on the Senator, firing a fatal shot.  But not 
before the Senator had fired back, killing Mathers instantly.  
Forensics would answer most of the remaining questions.  Regardless, 
the result was still two men dead by each others' hand.  One, a United 
States Senator; the other, his former aide.

Mulder looked even more tired than she, if that were even possible.  
The Summer sun was now wide awake and heating up the morning air, and 
he squinted as he tugged at his tie, loosening it and unbuttoning the 
collar of his shirt.  "I feel so old."  He said hoarsely, bringing a 
gentle smile to both Scully and Skinner's lips.  They were all feeling 
their age this morning.

"You were right about Senator Harman being involved in this case, 
Mulder."  Scully said, tilting her head and squinting up at him.  "Just 
not in the way you originally thought he was involved."

Mulder clenched his eyes shut, grimacing, then blinked a few times.  
"Too bad people had to die before we figured it out."

There was a moment of silence, then Skinner let out a huff of air and 
turned toward them, studying them.  "You've done excellent work here, 
Agents.  Both of you.  Don't forget that."  He turned and paused, then 
walked back into the house.
  
Mulder put his hand on Scully's shoulder and looked down at her 
exhausted face.  "C'mon, let's get you to bed."

She glanced up at him and nodded.  "Can we stop by the Falls Church 
impound lot first?  I left my cel phone in your car and I need to take 
it in to have it looked at."

He nodded.  "We'll pick it up, but the repairs can wait 'til tomorrow, 
okay?"

She walked stiffly toward the door.  "You'll get no argument from me."



Mulder's skin was coated with a fine sheen of perspiration despite the 
November chill in the room.  They were staying in his apartment for the 
first time in several days, after spending all weekend and Monday night 
at Scully's.  Alternating back and forth between the two apartments 
these last few months had turned out to be a bit of a hassle, and they 
had yet to discuss living arrangements.  In fact, the unresolved issues 
that they'd decided to work on several months previous on the night 
they'd gone to dinner and fallen asleep on Scully's sofa were still 
unresolved and hadn't been broached again.  But the status quo suited 
them both just fine at present and both were loath to discuss 
alternatives without getting into the deeper issues at hand. 

They'd spent almost every night together since then, either at his 
apartment or at hers, the only exception came on a Friday night about a 
month prior.  Quarrelling at work over some insignificant point on an 
interview transcript that they both knew had nothing to do with the 
real issue, they'd gone to their respective apartments alone to 
spend some much-needed solitary time.  They knew the small separation 
had been long overdue and when they saw each other again on the 
following Monday morning they were both revitalized and anxious to be 
together again that evening, able to joke mildly about their self-
imposed weekend apart.

Scully was now rising gloriously above him, her pale skin glistening in 
the moonlight and her breath coming in sharp, shallow pants.  They had 
gone to dinner and came back to his place to watch the election 
returns, and for whatever reason he didn't care to debate she had 
seduced him away from the television in the living room and onto the 
bed.  Or perhaps it was he who seduced her.  It didn't really matter.  
Sex was one thing about her that he'd come to know in great detail in 
the months that they had been together as lovers.  Scully was sweet and 
submissive in the morning, their lovemaking slow and gentle as he sank 
into her luxuriously, without urgency.  In the evening she was a 
different lover altogether.  Not that she wasn't pleasant to be with - 
she was more aggressive and passionate, their lovemaking very physical, 
almost feral at times.  Hard pressed, he would be unable to say which 
he preferred.  He loved both.

From the look on her face and the tensing in her thighs he could tell 
she was nearing her release.  She preferred not to speak when she 
reached this point unless absolutely necessary, focusing all of her 
attention on the art of giving and receiving satisfaction.  Sex was an 
equal playing field where they could both compete, and his favorite 
game was to see how many times he could bring her to orgasm before 
losing himself to his own.  Scully's preferred game was to make him 
lose that control.  It was unspoken but acknowledged tacitly by both, a 
game that neither party ever minded, whether winning or losing.

She had already come once that evening as he'd pushed her into the 
mattress while he'd taken her from behind.  Now looking down on his 
flushed, shining face through heavy-lidded eyes she sensed he was still 
holding back, and her competitive nature flared, accepting the 
challenge he presented.  She leaned down over him, capturing his lips 
and drinking from them, the blunt edges of her hair brushing against 
his cheek.  She ran her lips across his cheek and caressed them over 
his ear, while she clenched her thighs tightly against him and flexed 
her inner muscles, whispering to him in rich, dulcet tones.

He heard her describe to him in minute, clinical detail how much she 
wanted to see him reach orgasm, how he was making her feel and how she 
would respond when her own orgasm hit.  Her tactic worked and Mulder 
let out a guttural moan as he held tightly to her hips, bucking up into 
her with hard, rapid thrusts that sent her straight over the edge.  She 
cried out deep and long as she promised she would, his name and a few 
other well-chosen colloquialisms falling from her lips as he could only 
manage to clamp his eyes shut and sob, "oh, fuck!" through clenched 
teeth.

Sweaty but sated, she wore a slight but triumphant smile as she 
collapsed next to him on the bed.  She may have won that particular 
battle, but they both came out on the winning side by his estimation.



Scully awoke at 3:14 a.m. the following morning to hunger pains, 
despite the wonderful dinner she and Mulder had enjoyed out nearly 
seven hours earlier and the cookies they'd consumed in bed after they 
made love.  She untangled her legs from Mulder's, planted a soft kiss 
on his shoulder and slid out of bed, padding softly into the living 
room.  Shivering involuntarily in the Autumn chill, she picked up her 
discarded Armani suit from the floor and folded it into a neat pile on 
the coffee table.  Then she grabbed Mulder's white dress shirt off of 
the floor, buttoning a few buttons for modesty and rolling the sleeves 
up until her hands appeared underneath.  She pulled the collar up to 
her face and inhaled deeply, a warm glow spreading through her chest in 
response to Mulder's scent.  With shirttails grazing her thighs she 
wandered into the kitchen, searching for sustenance.

Mulder awoke on his stomach and alone just as her bare form disappeared 
into the living room.  He sat up sleepily, scrubbing his hands through 
his hair and yawning, more than familiar with Scully's late night 
forages for post-coital nourishment.  Looking over at the clock and 
feeling his stomach rumble, he threw back the comforter and followed 
her.

She was standing in front of the refrigerator with a finger in her 
mouth, her curves silhouetted by the interior light shining through 
the thin white cotton of his dress shirt.  It was one of the most 
beautiful, erotic glimpses he'd ever been allowed to see of the usually 
polished Special Agent Dana Scully, enraptured as he watched her, 
scratching the back of her calf with the big toe of her other foot and 
her hair falling sloppily around her face.

"Is there enough for two?"  He asked, snaking up behind her.

She turned, a jar of peanut butter in one hand and the index finger of 
the other hand in her mouth.  She looked startled for a moment but her 
expression changed to a sly grin as she dipped her finger back into the 
jar, offering it up to him.  With his eyes locked onto hers, his mouth 
closed around her French-manicured digit, his tongue swirling over and 
around until he'd cleaned all of the peanut butter, leaving her finger 
and her center glistening with wetness.  As she considered his ability 
to leave her quickly and completely aroused at such a small gesture, he 
snatched the jar from her hand.  Grabbing her other hand and scraping 
her finger once more along the inside of the side of the jar, he took 
it into his mouth with a boyish grin.

She chuckled and took the peanut butter jar back, giving him a gentle 
push toward the living room.  "Go sit down, I'll get the food."

Mulder wandered into the living room and turned on CNN.  Shivering, he 
grabbed his jeans off the floor and stepped into them, buttoning the 
three bottom buttons with a yawn.  Then he sat down carefully on the 
sofa and watched as the results of the Nation's polls rolled in while 
he waited for Scully to roll in with food.

Scully padded in and sat down next to him a moment later, a bowl of 
fruit in one hand and a tupperware container of cold spaghetti in the 
other.  "Have they declared a winner in the special election for the 
Virginia Senate seat?"

"Not yet.  Not that it matters."  He replied, his eyes still on the 
television as he reached over and grabbed a banana.  She popped open 
the tupperware and dug in, twirling the spaghetti around her fork.

"You know, Mulder, you forfeit the right to bitch about politicians if 
you don't go to the poll and vote when there's an election."

Mulder turned and looked at her, his mouth full of banana.  "Look who's 
talking."

She chewed her pasta and swallowed before responding.  "I voted.  I 
went at lunch."  She gave him a smug smile and stuck another forkful of 
pasta into her mouth as he responded with a silent, sarcastic 'ha ha 
ha.'  Then he turned back toward her.  "I thought you had lunch with 
Danny and Mancina."

"I did.  I voted afterward."

The studio anchor cut live to a reporter covering the special election 
and Mulder pointed the remote at the television, turning up the volume 
and shoving the rest of the banana into his mouth.

"...here at campaign central where the Senator-elect is expected at any 
moment..."

Scully shivered and Mulder sat back in the corner of the sofa, pulling 
her into his arms so that her back was resting against his chest and 
his arms enveloped her.  "Cold?"

She smiled up at him.  "Not anymore."

He kissed her temple and looked down into her bowl of pasta, turning 
his head so that he could see her eyes.  "You gonna eat all that?"

He maintained his forlorn expression and she gazed sidelong at him as 
she twirled the noodles around her fork.  He watched her actions 
attentively, and finally breaking into a smile, she carefully fed him 
the cold spaghetti.

A man on the television was speaking enthusiastically into a microphone 
in front of a cheering crowd.  "Ladies and gentlemen, the good people 
of the Commonwealth of Virginia have cast their votes and elected a 
Senator who they know stands for integrity and honor.  A Senator who 
will represent their issues and concerns with the utmost respect for 
decency and family values..."

Scully placed a kiss on Mulder's arm as he looked at her gratefully, 
smacking his lips as he chewed.

The man's voice on the television voice rose half an octave as he 
shouted "...proud to introduce Senator-elect Diane Harman!"

Scully pointed at the screen with her fork.  "Would you look at that."

Mulder nodded.  "Like anybody had a chance against the martyred widow 
of a veteran and all around American hero."

Scully was twirling her fork around in the pasta as she watched the 
Senator-elect raise her arms in victory to the cheering crowd.  "That's 
a little harsh, don't you think?"

Mulder shrugged.  "The man's philandering probably wouldn't have 
gotten him re-elected if he'd lived to see the regular Election Day.  
Fate played a hand and he was killed, the scandal rocking the 
opposing party because of Donald Mathers' connections, and Harman came 
out looking like the long lost boy wonder and a shoo-in for the White 
House."

"And his widow takes over his Senate seat in a landslide victory."
Scully took another bite of pasta and chewed thoughtfully.  "It 
DOES seem a little convenient when you put it that way."

Mulder took the bowl and fork away from her and helped himself to a 
heaping mouthful of spaghetti.  "A widow with post-graduate degrees in 
Law from Harvard and an MBA from Wharton, no less...you know what I've 
always wondered about that case?"

She stared at the Senator-elect on the screen.  "Hmm?"  She asked.

"Why Leslie Martin?  She was recruited away from her job in San 
Francisco by Hansen House a good year before Karen Darby was murdered 
and we were brought in on the case.  Was it just a coincidence that she 
happened to look so much like you?" 

Scully turned her head and looked at him as Diane Harman spoke of her 
joy and responsibility for and to the people of Virginia and the United 
States, and how her late husband would approve and be proud of the 
overwhelming voter response tonight.

Her response was a shrug.  "Some things ARE just coincidence, 
Mulder.  You know the investigation into Hansen House didn't turn up 
anything on recruitment for any of the employees, including Karen Darby 
and Leslie Martin."  She looked down at the bowl in Mulder's hand, now 
nearly empty, and yawned.  "We've got that meeting with Skinner in the 
morning."  She reminded him, sliding forward to get up off the sofa.

Mulder put the bowl down on the coffee table and pulled her back 
against him before she could stand up.  "Not for six hours."  He said, 
kissing her neck while his hands slid under the hem of the shirt.

She shifted her hips and felt his growing hardness against her 
backside.  "Mulder, have you always had a voracious sexual appetite?"

He lifted his mouth from her neck and looked at her.  "Pretty much, 
yeah.  Having you around in various states of undress only aggravates 
the condition."

He went to task gliding his hands up her abdomen and cupping her 
breasts in his palms, fondling her nipples with his thumbs and the pads 
of his fingers.  She was thinking about his years of celibacy and 
gained just a little more insight into the reasons for his former porno 
habit.  "A few times a week isn't enough?"  She asked, her voice 
serious.

His lips were pressed against her ear and his voice was husky as he 
spoke.  "Let me put it this way...if we didn't have work to do...if we 
didn't need to be responsible and take care of business every day...if 
you'd ALLOW it, I'd spend all day, every day and every night inside of 
you and it still wouldn't be enough."

So far, they'd only had one night of marathon sex - it was three weeks 
after the death of Senator Robert Harman, while they were finally 
wrapping up the loose ends on the Mathers case.  Scully had presented 
the conclusive P.C.R. results confirming that Mathers had been the last 
person to have sex with Leslie Martin before she died, and she'd been 
so sore through the meeting that she could hardly sit.  Mulder had worn 
a silly grin that he could barely disguise and Skinner threw him 
irritated warning looks throughout the meeting that had been duly 
ignored.  

Although his sultry voice and talented fingers were having a definite 
effect on her, Scully turned her head and looked at him with a Mona 
Lisa smile.  "Maybe we'll explore that idea on Saturday if we're in 
town."  She said, her voice holding her promise.

Mulder gazed back at her with a glint in his eye and caught the subtext 
in her message: 'another round isn't advisable tonight as we really 
need to get some sleep before meeting with Skinner in the morning.'  He 
pressed one last kiss to her neck and released her breasts, smoothing 
the hem of her shirt back down.  "I think I'll bring it up with Skinner 
during the meeting tomorrow."

"Bring what up?  Our sex life?"  She asked, turning to look at him 
carefully.

"Leslie Martin.  I think we should investigate that avenue a little 
deeper.  Although..."

She interrupted him before he could finish with an off-color remark.  
"Mulder, the case is closed.  Donald Mathers murdered Karen Darby, Lisa 
Lewis, Leslie Martin and Senator Harman.  You, yourself collected the 
evidence."

"What about Steven Hoyt?  That was never satisfactorily explained, 
either."

She stood, picking up the empty tupperware and fork and heading toward 
the kitchen.  "Mulder, Steven Hoyt was an anal-retentive control freak 
who was frightened that his mapped-out life plan was ruined over the 
allegations that he was involved with Hansen House and that he killed 
Karen Darby.  He hung himself in his cell."

He stood, his voice raised to accommodate for the distance.  "It goes 
deeper than that, Scully.  Why didn't he leave a note?"

"Because he didn't have any paper?"  She replied snidely as she washed 
out the bowl and left it in the rack by the sink to dry.

"It just doesn't add up."  He said absently, watching Senator-elect 
Diane Harman clasp her hands above her head and shake them in an 
affirmation of victory.

Scully stopped in the doorway as she passed through on her way to the 
bathroom.  "Skinner will never go for it, Mulder.  It's over, the case 
is solved to his and to the Bureau's satisfaction.  There is no more 
case."  She went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth, then looked 
in on him as he continued to stare at the television, biting his lip 
thoughtfully.  "You coming?"

Mulder muttered, "yeah" and pointed the remote at Senator-elect Diane 
Harman's smiling face, turning off the television.  He tossed the 
remote down on the coffee table, and running a hand through his hair as 
he yawned, shuffled into the bathroom.  "Did Skinner actually say what 
this meeting is about when you spoke with him this afternoon?"  He 
asked, stepping into the bedroom and looking at her as he scrubbed his 
teeth.  

She was already in bed, sitting up against the headboard with the light 
from the bathroom cutting across her torso as she kicked her legs to 
arrange the comforter 'just so.'  "He mentioned something about an 
artifact that may have been brought into the country illegally from 
West Africa.  He wants us to look into it because he says there's some 
unintelligible text or pictograms on it."

He pulled the toothbrush out of his mouth.  "Ooooh, that's our bag!  
Give us some hokey-smokey writing on the wall and we'll unearth all 
sorts of goblins.  Too bad we just missed Halloween!"

Scully closed her eyes for a moment and sighed.  Obviously, the simpler 
answer would have gotten her to sleep faster.

"What kind of artifact?"  Mulder asked around a mouthful of toothpaste.

"I don't know."  She replied, eyes still closed.  He returned to the 
bathroom and she heard him spit, rinse and pad into the bedroom.  
"Mulder...light."

Rolling his eyes at her, he returned to the bathroom and hit the light 
switch, then padded over to his side of the bed in darkness.  He slid 
into place, rolling over on his stomach and throwing his heavy arm over 
her middle as he nuzzled his nose against her side.

She lifted her arm to accommodate him and gently scruffed through his 
hair with her fingers, then slid down into the bed to take her place 
beside her partner.  

"Last chance, Scully.  I'm minty fresh."  He said, his voice muffled 
against the bed.

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she could just see his face in 
front of her, his eyes gazing hopefully into hers.  She responded with 
an amused, affectionate smile.  "Goodnight, Mulder."

He reached his hand up to caress her cheek then pressed a soft kiss to 
her lips and sighed, closing his eyes.  "Sweet dreams, Scully."


END CHAPTER THIRTEEN

*X*X*X*X*

EPILOGUE


The garden and pastures of the estate in the early morning were 
glorious.  There was a light mist on the pasture and even though it 
was too cold for the roses to still be in bloom the garden was green 
with trimmed hedges, ivy and other foliage.  The second floor balcony 
off of her bedroom offered the best view of the entire estate, and 
Senator-elect Diane Harman raised her face to the cold but welcome 
breeze as it washed over her.

Senator-elect Diane Harman.

It had been a long time coming.  She had spent many a hard night on 
this balcony, tearful eyes staring at the small white lights in the 
garden, planning for this day.  Her day.  Afraid that it would never 
arrive.  In the end it had all come together for her, and now she had 
everything she'd ever wanted from life.

HER victory.

HER estate.

HER inheritance.

Donald Mathers had done all the work.  He'd killed them, but she was 
the one who had worried and stressed over the smallest details, 
spending years of her life laying the framework.  Since the day that 
she'd sat in the gallery at the Senate Select Subcommittee on 
Intelligence and Terrorism, seeing Special Agent Dana Scully stand up 
and refuse to answer the Subcommittee's questions in order to protect 
her partner.  She'd become infatuated with the diminutive redhead and 
her tremendous courage and strength, catching her breath and wiping 
away the tears that spilled onto her cheeks when Special Agent Mulder 
entered the hearing without warning and enveloped his partner in his 
strong arms.

She knew then that she'd found her answer.

Senator-elect Harman walked through the French doors separating her 
bedroom from the balcony and sat her coffee cup down on the antique 
dresser next to the black and white glossy photographs of Mulder and 
Scully that she'd had that Dobbs fellow shoot for her.  She ran her 
finger over the image, smiling to herself at the carnivorous look on 
Agent Mulder's face as he stared into the face of the woman arching 
over him, her head thrown back and her face contorted in an exquisite 
ecstasy.  His partner.  His lover.  It was almost a fairy tale, the 
devotion these two held for each other.

She'd lived through enough of Robert's indiscretions to know that he 
would be instantly attracted to the beautiful and courageous Agent 
Scully.  She researched, and she followed, and she learned all she 
could learn about Agents Scully and Mulder.  She fell in love with 
them and their angst-ridden, bittersweet, unrequited love affair.  
They were so attractive.  And so dedicated to the truth.

She watched, and she hoped.  And she waited.

She found Leslie Martin and wooed her away from San Francisco, 
learning that almost anyone could be bought at the right price.

And she waited.

Her luck faltered when Mulder and Scully were reassigned away from 
the X-Files.  It was the bleakest moment of her life, having to live 
through the public humiliation of a media blitz over Robert's affair 
with Stephanie Curtis.  An affair that she had silently orchestrated, 
paying Curtis and enormous sum of money in exchange for a few not-so-
secret trysts with the Senator and her silence over the financial 
retribution.  Nearly anyone would risk ruining their professional 
reputation for a six-figure check and a little publicity, she'd 
learned.

Not Agent Scully, though.  Never Agent Scully.  Nor Agent Mulder, for 
that matter.  Their Achilles Heel was their loyalty to the truth and 
to each other.  That's why they were the key.

Donald Mathers and his insane jealousy was Diane Harman's 
deliverance.  He became her vehicle, her tool.  She fed his anger, 
meticulously placed subtle whispers encouraging him to seek revenge 
beyond fucking the Senator's wife in the Senator's own bed.  Almost 
anyone could be enticed to commit murder with the right incentive and 
a few well-placed, post-coital words.

But fortune was smiling on her once again when Mulder and Scully were 
finally reassigned back to the X-Files under Walter Skinner's 
supervision.  And then she'd found Karen Darby, the ringer for Lisa 
Lewis, and all of the pieces fell into place.

Timing was everything.

She looked down at the photograph of the lovers once more, and 
couldn't help but feel a little fondness.  She turned back to the 
open French doors and paused, surveying her domain once more.  
Drawing in a cleansing breath of cold air, she released it slowly, 
smiling with satisfaction.

HER garden.

HER Senate.

HER secret.


*X*X*X*X* FIN *X*X*X*X*

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