From: bedina2@my-dejanews.com
Date: Sun, 14 Mar 1999 05:00:36 GMT
Subject: NEW: Mississippi 1/3

Mississippi
B. Bennett and Elaine Risley
Rated: PG-13 for adult situations
Keywords:  Angst, MSR, S
Spoilers: mention of The Ghost Who Stole Christmas and Two
Fathers/One Son
Summary: A Mulder/Scully confrontation.
Disclaimer: It's obvious we don't own (most) of these
characters; they belong to Chris Carter and company. No
profit was or will be made from this story.
Post: Gossamer, everyone else please ask.
Thanks to: Fabulous Editor Dianora
Feedback: bedina@juno.com or postjade@yahoo.com


Mulder pushed the door open and stepped inside quickly to
escape the freezing night wind. The mild fall and winter
had vanished once the New Year appeared, and Mulder took a
moment to brush the light layer of snow from his heavy
wool coat.  He looked around the room and frowned, causing
his brow to wrinkle. Blackie's House of Beef was world-
renowned for it's cuisine, but the locals mostly thought
of it as a place to dance.  He really couldn't imagine
Scully in a western motif, kicking her heels up to the
latest my-woman-did-me-wrong country ballad, but this is
where Margaret Scully had said she would be. 'It must have
been her brothers' idea,' Mulder thought as he spotted a
sign that directed patrons to the dining area. The place
was huge and was nicely decorated, with lots of gleaming
brass and wooden accents.  Tables crowded the edge of the
room, while a large open space had been cleared in the
center for dancing.  Since Mulder sincerely hated country
music and preferred vegetable pizza to prime rib, he'd
never been to Blackie's.  It was more crowded than he
would have expected for such a late hour. With a sigh he
stepped toward the dance floor, scanning the room for his
diminutive partner.  He'd gone no more than two feet when
he heard a male voice call out his name.

"Hey, Mulder!"

Mulder turned, squinting in the dim light.  Bill Scully
was sitting at a corner table, having a drink with his
wife - Tara? Scully's eldest brother had a feverish glow
about his face, with a fine sheen of sweat across his
brow.  His hand was wrapped around a beer, and from the
number of bottles on the table it was obvious this wasn't
his first.

Bill waved at Mulder, then took a long drink from his
bottle. Mulder sighed. 'Joy,' he thought as he started
towards the couple's table. Bill had previously made his
feelings for him quite clear; he didn't particularly
relish talking to the man.

For a change, Bill Scully looked relaxed.  He stood and
extended his hand as Mulder approached.

"Fox Mulder!" he shouted exuberantly, grasping Mulder's
hand and pumping furiously.  "How the hell are you?"

Mulder smiled weakly and shifted on his feet.

"Uh, fine, Bill, good to see you again," he said.  He
glanced at Bill's wife.  "Hello, Tara."

Tara smiled warmly in return.

"So," Bill continued in the same loud tone, "Guess you're
looking for my little sister."

Mulder nodded.  "Your Mom said she was here with you.
Sorry to interrupt."

Bill slapped him on the shoulder, a bit harder than was
necessary.  "No problem," he shouted a gleeful gleam in
his eye.  He turned and pointed towards the dance floor.
"Dana's out there.  Dancing with Jack.  You can't miss
them."

'Jack? I thought her other brother's name was Charlie.'
"Thanks," he nodded.  "Have a nice evening."

"Oh, you, too," Bill grinned. "Have a real good evening."

Mulder stepped onto the crowded floor, where dancers were
two-stepping to an old Randy Travis song. It took Mulder
several minutes to spot Scully; he almost missed her, only
because she would periodically disappear behind the bulk
of the man with whom she was dancing.  Mulder couldn't
decide which surprised him more, the fact that Scully
seemed so relaxed as she spun casually in her partner's
arms, or that she was dancing with someone in the first
place.  He couldn't help gaping.  The man was 6' 6" if he
was an inch, and Mulder guessed that he weighed in at
around 250lbs, most of which looked very solid.  Something
about his curly black hair and olive skin confirmed that
he definitely wasn't Scully's brother.  With a sudden
feeling of trepidation, Mulder started forward. He hadn't
taken two steps when Scully, who had just twirled out of a
gracefully executed spin, caught sight of Mulder and came
to a dead stop.

At Scully's expression, Mulder's uneasiness increased.
Momentary surprise flashed across her face before a mask
of neutrality settled over her pretty features.  She
seemed neither happy to see him nor angry to see him.
Mulder recognized her stare; it was the same look she'd
given him every day for the last week.  He shifted
uncomfortably.  Dancers had parted around him and he stood
alone, his suit rumpled and out of place among the jeans
and flannel shirts.  Feeling awkward, he took a deep
breath before starting forward again.  After only a second
or two, Scully dropped her gaze and walked quickly to him.
They met in the middle of the dance floor.

"What's up, Mulder?" Scully asked when she reached him,
shouting to be heard over the din of the song.

Mulder grimaced. No welcome, no 'how'd you find me?' Just
'What's up, Mulder?' He cleared his throat. "We're on
fertilizer detail again.  Apparently, even though we've
got the X-Files back we're still fair game for
punishment."

Scully frowned. "Why? Where?"

"Mississippi. There was a car bomb found outside a federal
building in Jackson. The bureau is short of available
field agents, so they're sending us."

Scully raised her eyebrows.

Mulder tried a smile, but it was weak. "Skinner said this
would be the last time."

Scully snorted, then nodded.  "Fine," she said. "I'll get
my coat." She turned to the mountain standing a few feet
behind her.  "I'm sorry Jack, I'm going to have to go."

Mulder noted that the mountain seemed disappointed.

"Sure, Dana," he rumbled in a deep voice.  "Maybe I'll see
you again before I have to leave?"

Scully nodded.  "If I'm not gone all week, maybe we can
get dinner again before you ship out." She stood on tiptoe
and kissed Jack on the side of the mouth.

'Not on the lips, but very close,' Mulder noticed.  He
followed Scully, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, as
she stopped and said good-bye to Bill and his wife.  No
one knew where Charlie had disappeared to, so Scully asked
Bill to say good-bye for her. Bill's friendly demeanor was
obviously fading with his beer buzz, and he snidely said
something about 'knowing when to walk away from the
office.' Mulder gave him a tight-lipped smile as he took
Scully's elbow and steered her towards the door.

He leaned over just slightly so that she could hear him.
"I've booked us on a 8:00 a.m. flight into Jackson out of
BWI."

Scully stopped and turned, her arm pulling from Mulder's
grasp. "8:00 a.m.?"

He nodded. "It was the first available flight."

She looked up at him, her expression blank.  "Well, why
didn't you say that?"

"What?" Mulder asked, confused.

"Great," she said, a rare smile crossing her lips.  "I'll
meet you there. What's the flight number?"

Mulder looked at her. "Don't you think you should pack?
Maybe get some sleep?"

The smile disappeared. Scully cocked her head and blinked
once.  Mulder instantly knew he'd said the wrong thing.

"What's the flight number, Mulder?" she asked again, a
chill in her voice.

"703," he said with a frown, his brow wrinkled.

Scully nodded - curt, dismissive. "Fine, Mulder. I'll see
you there."

She turned and walked away and did not look back.  Mulder
could have sworn there was a bounce in her step.

*********

Weary from lack of sleep, Mulder drained the last of the
coffee he'd purchased from the airport vendor and tossed
the cup into the trashcan. He checked his watch for the
tenth time that hour, and with a sigh, sat back down.  It
was only 7:00 a.m., and he didn't expect Scully to arrive
for at least thirty minutes.  Unlike him, she wasn't a
morning person.  He crossed then re-crossed his legs,
trying to get comfortable, before he stood and returned to
his previous activity of pacing.

After spending all night and most of the morning thinking,
the only definite conclusion Mulder had reached was that
he had no idea what the hell was wrong.  For the last
couple of months, Scully had been distant.  Regardless of
Mulder's attempts to draw her out, their conversations had
remained strictly work-related, and although he had tried
to coax her into takeout and a video on several different
evenings, Scully had successfully avoided spending any
personal time with him. He tried calling, but no matter
what the time, he always managed to get her answering
machine.

He sighed deeply. He wasn't so dense, however, that he
didn't know when the problem started.  Running his fingers
through his hair, he went back to the Starbucks counter
for another cup of coffee.  He returned to the waiting
area a minute later, refill in hand, and plopped down on a
plastic airport chair.

Everything had been fine until Christmas. 'Correction,' he
thought with an upward twist of his lip. Everything was
great until Christmas.  After that bizarre experience in
the haunted house, Scully had stopped by his apartment.
They exchanged gifts and then spent the rest of the night
talking quietly, sitting closer than usual on his black
leather sofa. When midnight drew near, Mulder had pointed
out she going to miss mass, but Scully had simply smiled
and walked into his small kitchen, asking if he had any
powdered cocoa to add to her coffee.  She didn't leave
until almost 4:00 a.m.  Mulder remembered dropping off
into a restful sleep around dawn, drowsily content with
the knowledge they'd reached a new understanding, a new
place in their relationship.

Apparently, he'd been wrong.

He didn't see or talk to her again until the second day of
the New Year, when she walked into their office.  Her
attitude was nonchalant, as though there was nothing
unusual about the fact they hadn't talked for over a week,
or that she had made no effort to return the messages he
left.  When pressed, she'd made non-committal noises about
being out of town.  Mulder's nose had been out of joint
ever since, and the whole business with the Spender
family, the raging aliens and his defense of Diana made
everything worse. He snorted.  He had actually told Scully
she was making things too personal.  He closed his eyes
and let his head drop against the back of the seat. What a
moron.

"Hey."

Mulder opened his eyes. "Scully."

Scully was pressed and coifed and looked
uncharacteristically relaxed. Mulder found her appearance
and demeanor disconcerting, considering it was an early
morning and she'd had to drive all the way to BWI to catch
a flight to go talk to Mississippi farmers about hazardous
materials.  Mulder expected her to be grumpy, or at the
very least, to look tired.  In fact, he'd expected her to
be extra grumpy and tired because she'd probably stayed up
late dancing and hanging out with her brothers and that
mountain.  Instead she looked beautiful. And cheerful.

Mulder felt his stomach tighten into a knot. This wasn't
good. He forced his clenched jaw into what he hoped passed
for a smile.

Scully smiled back and went to check in at the counter.

Mulder dropped his face into his hands. He had a feeling
it was going to be a long flight.

*********

His partner's unfailing good mood continued throughout the
morning. Mulder held his tongue during boarding, the long
flight, and the shuttle to the rental agency, but by the
time they were in the car, he couldn't stand it any
longer.

"So," he blurted, interrupting Scully's soliloquy of which
food vendor in the Post Office Pavilion offered the
tastiest lunch, "What does Jack do that he'll be 'shipping
out'?  Is he Navy?"

"Actually," Scully said, as though they had been talking
about Jack for the last hour,  "Jack has a doctorate from
Emory.  He's the lead biologist of a team studying dolphin
schools in the Pacific."

"Oh," Mulder said.  "So do you have a thing for the name
or what?"

"What?"

"Jack.  You seem to date a lot of men named Jack."

Scully gave him a blank look. "What?" she asked.

Mulder shrugged, his eyes focused on the raindrops that
pattered against the windshield. "I was just curious."

Scully returned her eyes to the road. "I don't know, I
never really thought about it," she said.

"So," Mulder returned, the reality of the situation
suddenly striking him very hard.  "You are... dating him?"

Mulder noticed that Scully's fingers tightened
imperceptibly around the steering wheel.

"No," she finally said. "Not really. We do go out
sometimes when he's in town."

"Well, how often is that?" Mulder asked, his face
reddening. He continued to stare straight ahead as Scully
pulled into the parking lot of a Motel 6.

"I don't know," Scully said, her voice tight.  "It
varies."

"Oh." Mulder said.  As soon as the car came to a stop, he
got out, slamming the door a little harder than necessary.
He began pulling their bags from the trunk.

Scully slowly got out of the car and walked back toward
him. Out of the corner of his eye, Mulder noticed she had
opened her mouth to say something, but apparently thought
better of it.  Instead, she just picked up her suitcase
and followed him to the reservation desk.  As always, they
got adjoining rooms. Scully quietly opened her door.
Mulder did the same. He didn't open the door between their
rooms like he usually did.

************

Scully stopped the car, wrenching the gearshift into
'park'.  With the exception of declining Scully's proposal
that they stop for dinner, Mulder had said nothing to his
partner throughout the tedious afternoon of interviews,
refusing her attempts to engage him in a discussion of
their assignment or Mississippi or even the weather.  His
silence had obviously begun to irritate her, something
Mulder found perversely satisfying.  Obviously frustrated,
Scully turned toward him.

"I'm going to review notes and turn in early," she said
shortly, reaching for the handle.  "I'll see you in the
morning."  Not waiting for an answer, she climbed quickly
out of the car and slammed the door.

Mulder sat, not moving, and watched as Scully dug into her
purse for her room key. After a moment of fumbling, she
managed to get the door open.

"Scully," Mulder called out, throwing open the car door.

She paused and turned, her arms crossed, wearing an
expression that Mulder knew meant he had pushed her too
far.  Frankly, he didn't give a damn.

"What?" she asked.

Mulder walked around the car and stepped up to her,
standing less than a foot away.

"Scully," he said again, searching her face.

"Yes?" she returned with a raised eyebrow.

Mulder watched her for a moment.  After five and a half
years he was about to say something that would change
everything, and it surprised him to no end to find that
instead of being nervous, he was pissed. "You know in the
hospital when I told you I loved you?" he asked.

He thought he saw a wave of panic cross Scully's face, but
if he did, it was immediately replaced by something
unreadable.  "Yes," she said cautiously.

He smiled grimly. "I meant it."

Mississippi 2/3
B. Bennett and Elaine Risley

There was a pause that took something in the neighborhood
of a million years.

Scully blinked.

Mulder thought that perhaps he'd been suddenly struck
deaf, because he couldn't hear Scully saying anything when
she obviously should be.  He looked at her mouth.  It
wasn't moving.  He noted that he could hear the traffic
sounds and a crow cawing in the distance.  Scully blinked
again and he thought he could hear the sound of that too.
He turned on his heel, fishing the room key from his
pocket. Once the door was open, he stomped through,
angrily slamming it behind him.  Sitting down heavily on
his bed, he jerked the knot loose from his tie and ripped
it from around his neck, his gaze flicking between the
outside door and the door to Scully's adjoining room.

There was no knock.

Mulder yanked off his jacket and threw it in the direction
of the room's only chair.

A minute passed.  Scully didn't knock.

Mulder violently kicked off his shoes.  Picking them up,
he threw them, one at a time, at the wall.

Only silence came from the other room.

He sighed tiredly, his anger dissipating. She wasn't
coming.  He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it over his
head, followed by his T.  He walked into the bathroom.
Leaning heavily against the sink, he splashed cold water
on his face, then straightened and looked into the mirror.
He almost didn't recognize the face that stared back.

"Dumb fuck," he said, aloud.

There was a knock on the adjoining door.

He closed his eyes for a moment, then slowly walked into
the main room and reached for the knob.  Scully was
standing on the other side, her arms crossed tightly
across her chest. She looked angry.

'Join the club,' Mulder thought bitterly.

They locked gazes for a long moment.  Scully finally spoke
first.

"I don't understand you," she started.

"Scully..."

She cut him off with a gesture.  "What are you trying to
do to me?"

Mulder blinked slowly. "What do you mean?"

Scully started pacing. "I mean the minute I think I
understand what you want, you go and change the rules on
me."

Mulder snorted, feeling his temper start to flare again.
"Me? I'm not the one dating someone else."

Scully glared. "Dating?  Dating?  I'm not dating anyone.
Spending an occasional evening with a man I've known for
years hardly qualifies as dating."

Mulder crossed his arms.  "So if you aren't dating him,
what the hell are you doing with him?"

Scully's response was a cross between a gasp and a laugh.
She stared at Mulder, obviously shocked by his audacity.
"I don't think what I do with Jack is any of your damn
business, Mulder."

Mulder's eyes widened in shock. "So you're admitting you
slept with this guy?" he asked incredulously. He realized
he was shouting, but he didn't care.

"I'm not 'admitting' anything," Scully returned furiously.
"Admission implies guilt, and I don't feel guilty about
Jack, or anyone else for that matter."

"Anyone else?" Mulder croaked.  "How many guys are you
sleeping with?"

Scully stopped pacing, hands on her hips, her face red
with anger. "Where do you get off asking me this?" she
asked.  "Not a week ago you stood in the Lone Gunmen's
office and told me not to get personal."

Mulder shook his head adamantly. "You know damn well that
was different. Diana is..."

"No, Mulder," she cut him off, her words biting, "that's
exactly the same kind of shit that's characterized our
relationship from the beginning." Her expression hardened.
"I haven't been complaining about the status quo, Mulder.
I don't understand why all of a sudden you are."

Mulder leaned down, his face inches from hers. "Because,"
he said quietly, struggling to control his anger,  "I
didn't realize that status quo included you fucking other
guys."

Scully reached out and pushed violently, her palms flat
against his chest. Her face crumpled momentarily into
something he couldn't interpret before settling into an
emotionless mask.

"Go to hell, Mulder," she hissed, then turned and quickly
left the room.  She slammed the door behind her.

Mulder cursed and immediately followed.  Scully was
standing by the bedside table, the phone in her hand.

"Get out," she said succinctly as she stabbed at the
buttons. "Southwest Airlines," she snapped into the
receiver.

"What are you doing?" Mulder barked.

"None of your damn business," Scully said shortly.  "You
heard me; get out."

Mulder crossed his arms.  "The earliest flight out of
Jackson is the one we're on," he informed her.

Scully glared, slamming the receiver down on the base.
"Fine." She yanked open the bedside table drawer and
pulled out the phone book.  "I'll rent a car. I'm not
spending four hours on a plane with you."

Mulder crossed the room and grabbed the phone.  He pulled
the cord from the wall.

"What the hell are you doing?" Scully shouted at him.

Mulder methodically wrapped the cord around the base.
"You're not going anywhere.  You're going to talk to me,"
he said forcefully, struggling for control.

Scully's blue eyes radiated anger. "Like hell."

Mulder spun and threw the phone against the wall.  The
loud thunk and resulting dent made Scully flinch.

"Dammit, Scully," Mulder shouted, "I want to know what the
hell is going on with you."

Scully let out a short wry laugh. "Oh, right, Mulder, I'm
supposed to tell you every detail of my personal life, but
yours is off limits?  How typical."

Mulder looked at her in bewilderment. "What the hell is
that supposed to mean?"

Scully rolled her eyes. "What do you think it means,
Mulder?  You want to talk, as long as it's not about
Diana?  I tell you everything, and you tell me nothing?
Is that how it's supposed to go?"

"Diana doesn't have anything to do with this!"

"And neither do you Mulder," she retorted.  "This is none
of your business."

Mulder wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her.
Instead, he forced his temper down and sat in the chair,
kicking his legs out wide in front of him. He stared at
her for a moment.

"Did you really sleep with him, Scully?" he finally asked.

Scully sat down on the edge of the mattress and dropped
her head into her hands.  She seemed to weigh her words
carefully. "You have no right to ask me that."

Mulder chewed his lip.  "I guess we're not as close as I
thought, then, huh?" He asked bitterly.

Scully didn't look up at him. "I think you've made that
very clear, Mulder."

He adamantly shook his head.  "Bullshit.  That's bullshit
and you know it.  You're the one who's been barely
responsive the last month and a half, Scully, not me."

Scully didn't respond; she just kept her head in her
hands.

Needing to do something with his nervous energy, Mulder
stood and began walking around the room, agitated, his
hand over his mouth.  After several minutes, he paused and
turned.

"Scully, what happened at Christmas?" he blurted.

Scully didn't move.  "What do you mean?"

Mulder gestured, frustrated.  "I mean, I
thought...something happened between us."

Scully shook her head.  "You thought what happened?" she
asked quietly.

Mulder struggled for words.  "I thought after all these
years, after all the time we've spent avoiding talking
about us, we were finally getting somewhere." He shook his
head in disgust.  "You know what I'm talking about here,
Scully.  Don't pretend you don't."

Scully studied the pattern in the carpet.  "That was
nothing.  We've spent evenings together before."

Mulder lunged forward and grabbed her by both arms.
Scully looked up, too startled to try to pull away.  His
surprise at seeing the tears in her eyes made his tone
gentler than originally intended.  "It wasn't nothing,
Scully. It was different."

Scully averted her eyes again, but still didn't struggle
free of his hold. "Go away, Mulder," she repeated.

Ignoring her request, Mulder dropped to a crouch in front
of her. "Why didn't you tell me you were involved?" he
asked, feeling helpless, searching for a reason.

Scully shook her head. "Because I'm not."

"But you slept with him."

Scully sniffled quietly before answering.  "I'm sorry you
found out, Mulder," she finally responded, softly.  "I
didn't intend for you to."

Mulder studied the toe of his sock. "How long?"

Scully shrugged.  "I don't know.  A while.  A few years."

Mulder squeezed his eyes shut.  "Why?"

"You weren't supposed to find out," Scully repeated.

Mulder's laughter was filled with hurt.  "The old 'what
you don't know want hurt you? line,' Scully?  You surprise
me - I would have guessed that was beneath you.  You made
me believe we were important to each other, you made me
feel special, but all the while you're sleeping with
someone else and just not mentioning it?"

"You are special." Scully whispered her voice barely
audible.

"Really?" he asked, visibly hurt. "Could have fooled me."

Scully looked at him and blinked, an array of emotions
crossing her face.  Finally, she closed her eyes and
shrugged.  "Jack's an old friend.  We've known each other
for years.  Sometimes we get together when he's in town
and sometimes we don't. It's not serious.  It never has
been."

Mulder stood quickly, towering over Scully.  It occurred
to him how deceptive her size was.  He watched her for a
moment before turning to go back to his room, shaking his
head in disgust and pain. "Dana Scully into casual sex. I
never would have guessed."

"Mulder," Scully called.

The desperation he heard made him turn around.

Tears were slowly creeping down her cheeks. She rubbed her
eyes, smearing black across her cheekbones. "It's not like
I found Jack in a bar, Mulder."

Mulder stared at her evenly.  "I guess cruising tattoo
parlors is more your style."

Scully stood, shaking. She opened her mouth to speak, but
seemed unable to for a moment, her voice laden with tears.

"I can't..." She paused, shaking her head, then turned
around, her shoulders sagging with defeat. "That's great,
Mulder."

The hurt in her voice dulled Mulder's anger. 'What the
hell am I doing to her?' he thought. 'What am I doing to
myself?' He crossed to her and rested a hand on her
shoulder.  She didn't turn around, but she didn't pull
away, either.
"Then what's going on, Scully?" he asked, pleadingly. "I
thought I mattered to you.  I thought when I said I loved
you I was just confirming something we both knew.  Now, I
don't understand what I'm hearing." He shook his head
helplessly.  "How do I fit into your life now?  I just
don't get what you want from me."

Scully dropped her head, and Mulder had to strain to hear
her words.  "Nothing, Mulder.  I don't want anything from
you. I can't have what I want."

"Well, if what you want is to have Jack and me too, then
you're right.  You can't have that."

Scully shook her head. "Will you please stop saying his
name like it matters.  He doesn't have anything to do with
this."

Grasping her by the shoulders, Mulder gently turned her
around and brought her hand to his lips, lightly kissing
it.  "Then tell me that you love me."

Scully looked up into his eyes and reached to lay a palm
along his cheek. "This isn't about love, Mulder," she said
gently, "I just don't think I can do this."

"Why not?"

Scully shook her head.  "I just...can't."

Mulder shook his head, his brows knit in frustration.
"You're not sexually attracted to me?" he asked, wildly
searching.  "I'm too skinny?  Too much of a slob?" He
paused. "It's the ties, isn't it?"

His last remark brought a small smile to Scully's face.
"You're ties have gotten better," she said.  She reached
out and lightly touched his bare chest where a tie would
normally hang. "And you're not as sloppy as you used to
be, either.  You're place was pretty tidy for Christmas."
She began to trace her fingers across his chest, causing
him to shiver.  "And you're not skinny.  You're perfect,
actually.  As for attraction," she glanced up at him,
catching his eye for a moment before dropping her focus to
his chest again, "sometimes, it's all I can do to keep my
hands off you."

He caught her hand, trapping her fingers against his
chest.  "Then don't."
She leaned in and rested her cheek against his shoulder.
"I can't, Mulder," she whispered.

Mulder reached up and slowly stroked her hair. "Yes you
can, we can, this can work."

Scully shook her head and stepped away, quickly.  "No, it
can't."
Exasperated, Mulder sighed and leaned his shoulder into
the door jam.  "Why not?"

"Because this is too much, it's too close.  I can't do
this."

"What? You can do it with Jack but not with me?"

Scully glared at him.  "That's different."

"How?"

Scully shook her head.

"No," Mulder said, raising his voice. "I want to know.
Exactly how is it different?  You can't say he's better;
you haven't been with me yet."


Scully stared at him. "Mulder, what the hell are you
talking about?"

Mulder threw his hands up in the air.  "I haven't the
slightest idea. What are you talking about?"

"Look, I can be with Jack, and at the end of the night, or
the weekend, or whatever, I can walk away from him,
because it doesn't matter. But if we get involved and it
doesn't work, I can't just walk away from you, Mulder."

Mulder shook his head. "Who's walking away here, Scully?
It's been five years.  We already know it works, that we
work." He attempted a small smile.  "It's like a sure
thing."

Scully's red hair brushed her shoulders as she shook her
head. "There's no such thing as a sure thing."

"But you love me."

Scully looked up at him, her shoulders trembling with held
back tears. "It's not just about love," she barely
whispered.

Frustrated, Mulder felt his anger returning. "Then what
the hell is it about?"

She sighed. "Jack isn't personal and you are."

He stepped forward again, so close that their bodies were
almost touching.  "That's what I want to be, Scully," he
said, his voice low and sultry.  He reached up and cradled
her face in his hands. "I want to be really, really
personal." Leaning down, he closed his mouth over hers.
Scully didn't pull away.

The kiss was gentle, but when they finally broke apart,
both were breathing heavily. Mulder pulled her into a bear
hug, running his hands firmly up and down her back. After
a moment, Scully conceded and wrapped her arms tightly
around his waist.

Sliding a hand up to tangle in her hair, Mulder none too
gently pulled her head back and began kissing the side of
her neck.  "I want you," he stated gruffly, his tone
leaving no room for argument.

Scully gasped, craning her neck almost involuntarily to
give him better access. "God, Mulder." She let her hands
drift from his waist, kneading the hard muscles of his
back.  "I don't..."

Whatever she meant to say was forgotten as Mulder once
again pressed his mouth to hers.  While their first kiss
had been sweet, this one was deep and wet and open-
mouthed. Mulder tugged her ever closer, his arousal hot
and hard between them.  When he pulled back for a gasping
breath, Scully's inclination to protest had vanished.

Nothing more was said as Mulder grabbed her and hoisted
her up against him.  Their mouths once again locked
together, Scully wrapped her legs around his waist.  He
walked slowly to the bed, both because he didn't want to
drop his cargo and because he refused to stop kissing her
long enough to see where he was going.

Mulder dropped Scully onto the mattress; she bounced
lightly.  She held his stare as he reached to unbutton his
pants. Holding one arm out towards her, palm down, as if
afraid she would try to bolt, Mulder used the other to
pull off his pants. Kicking them away, he fell over her,
his arms stiffly braced to catch him. Predatorily, he
began working his way up her body, pressing hard kisses
through her clothes in various indiscreet locations.

"Mulder," Scully managed to wheeze one last time as he
began popping the buttons off her blouse with his teeth.

"Yeah?" he queried, reaching down to stroke her inner
thigh through the cloth of her dress slacks.

She inhaled quickly. "Nothing," she said, closing her
eyes.

**********

Mississippi 3/3
B. Bennett and Elaine Risley

************
"Scully?"

She didn't respond until the second time that he said her
name.

"Yes?"

Mulder twisted his head around until he could look at her.

"Are you asleep?"

"Nmm, mm."

He put his cheek back down on her nude stomach, curling
his legs in closer to her body.  Scully responded by
lifting an arm and caressing the side of his face.

A moment or two passed.

"Are you okay?" he asked into her belly.

She shifted and groaned. "I'm a little sore."

Mulder turned his head just enough to kiss her warm skin.
"That's my fault.  I didn't see the light switch."

Scully laughed throatily.  "It wasn't just that, Mulder.
I'm sore all over."

Mulder raised his hand and traced an invisible outline
around her bellybutton. "I'm sorry."

Scully shook her head against the pillow.  "Don't be.
It's the kind of sore I can live with."

Mulder chuckled softly.  He had an impulse to ask her for
a rating, but quickly thought better of it. Instead, he
kissed her belly again and then leaned back on one elbow
so he could see her.  "So."

Scully looked at him and he held her gaze.

"Are you okay with this?"

She dropped her eyes and took a deep breath.  "Honestly?"

Mulder's stomach tightened.  "Yeah."

"I don't know, yet."

Mulder sighed and fell back against the bed.  "What does
that mean?" he asked, trying to sound neutral.

"It means, I don't know.  It means, this is a huge step, a
big change.  I don't know how I feel about it yet."

Mulder frowned. "So you didn't, uh, have a good time?"

Scully threaded her fingers through his hair. "I had a
great time.  And if we could stay in bed forever there
wouldn't be a problem.  My concerns are about what happens
when we get out of bed."

"I suggest a shower," he smiled, hoping he looked relaxed
and confident instead of terrified out of his mind.

Scully smiled back at him.  "And when we get back to
D.C.?"

"What?"

"What do we do?  Where do we sleep?  How do we make this
work?  For that matter, what about work?"

Mulder ran his hands through his hair.  "Okay.  What would
make you comfortable?"

"I don't know.  That's the problem.  What if in the
process of figuring out what works we hurt each other's
feelings and then all of sudden this blows up in our faces
and I've lost my best friend?"	Her voice cracked and
Mulder could see that there were tears in her eyes, and
like a two by four to the head, he suddenly realized how
deeply she was afraid of losing him.

"Hey," he said, touching the side of her face, "that's not
going to happen."

"I can have sex with anyone, Mulder, but what we have,
that connection, I only have that with you.  I can't lose
that."

Mulder pulled her into an embrace.  "It's okay, Scully,
you're not going to.  No matter what you do, you can't get
rid of me.  Even if you try."

She buried her face in his chest.  "I just...I don't want
to lose this, and I don't want to lose me.  I'm just so
bad at managing relationships, Mulder.  I don't want to
screw this up."

Mulder thought of his own failed relationships.  Phoebe
and Diana figured prominently.  "Well, I can't pretend to
be an expert, but I think we'll be okay."

Scully looked up at him.  "Based on what?"

"I love you."

Scully dropped her eyes and Mulder saw a tear hit the
sheets.  "I love you too," she whispered.

He kissed the top of her head.  "Then we'll be fine."

She wrapped her arms around him.  "Can I get that in
writing?" she asked against his chest.

Mulder nodded. "Sure," he said. "I'll call my lawyer when
we get back to the city."

As Mulder had hoped, Scully laughed, and he felt her relax
a little in his embrace.

They lay curled around each other for a long time.  They
talked a little, sometimes about nothing, sometimes about
serious things like schedules and time together and time
apart and how to make all of it happen around their jobs.
It was almost midnight before Mulder thought Scully wasn't
quite so frightened by the idea of them together, that she
was actually beginning to believe they could work.  Around
the same time, Mulder's stomach began to rumble and he was
reminded that they had skipped dinner.

Sitting up, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and
stood. Slipping an arm under Scully's knees and his other
around her shoulders, he scooped her up easily.

"Mulder!" she laughed, sleepily, "What are you doing?"

"I'm tired, but I'm more hungry," he announced, "and I
thought we should shower before looking for food."

"We?" Scully questioned, resting her head on his shoulder
as he walked into the bathroom.

Mulder sat her on her feet and reached for the shower
knob. "Is that ok?" he asked, glancing sideways.

Scully looked up and down his body, as if seeing him for
the first time.  "That depends," she said, slowly, "am I
required to wash anything?"

Mulder grinned toothily.  "You get to wash anything you
want."

Scully's smile turned lascivious.  "Maybe I'm not that
tired after all."

Suddenly, Mulder wasn't either.