Date sent: Thu, 06 Nov 1997 08:33:05 -0400 Subject: Audio Dynamite Title: Audio Dynamite Author: Crash Classification: Angst, MSR Rating: NC-17 Summary: Scully experiences nightmares of her own rape while working on a serial rape case. Mulder helps her deal with her feelings. Author's notes: I had originally submitted this piece to Gertie's Romance Archive as part of a "Post Rape" challenge she'd issued. By the way, that's a great archive. Anyway, this is my first real attempt at a longer short story, so go easy on me. I'd like to thank Rita who was foolish enough to encourage me. OK to post anywhere as long as my name is on it. WARNING: Although the rape scenes in this story are alluded to, if this sort of thing bothers you, don't hang around. I'd also like to warn Anti-shippers to LEAVE NOW. I don't have a problem with our 2 favorite FBI Agents having a shag fest and I refuse to feel guilty about it. I'd love feedback, and it may be sent to mamymac@juno.com. Flames, however, will be used to line my birdcage. DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Never will be. They belong to CC and the 10-13 Productions gang. No infringement is intended, and besides I'm poor as a church mouse, you stand nothing to gain by suing me. Audio Dynamite By Crash Prologue It always starts out the same. I'm walking up the brick sidewalk, so close to being inside, so close to being safe. Then it happens. He grabs me, he violates me. I taste the blood, I see the serrated edge of the knife and the way the light from the street lamp catches it. I hear the crack, and I wake up. Sometimes I scream. Sometimes I can't breathe. It's been three months since I was attacked. Attacked. I still have trouble with the word that truly describes what happened to me. I am fine. I can go on from what happened. I have dismissed what happened. *It* happens to lots of women. There is difficulty involved, but they go on. *I* will go on. I've had to change some things. I now go in the front of the apartment instead of the back that is closer to my door. I keep the doors in my car locked when I'm in it and I make sure no one is around, or lots of people are around, before I get out of the car. I am definitely more careful now. I've gotten a dead bolt on the door and alarms on all the windows. I don't go out at night anymore, unless it's on a case. Except for the nightmares, the fear isn't so bad. I don't like for anyone to touch me, even Mulder. But with him, I force myself to allow it to a point. Mulder has always touched me both figuratively and physically. He's always behind me, ushering me through doors, tapping my shoulder, invading my personal space. But those things are a reassurance to me, a sign of his trust, therefore I trust him. I refuse to deal with my attack. It is out of my mind, except at night. Eventually, the pain will fade. But I'm fine. I have work and it will help me to go on. It has to. XxX 8:35 a.m. October 13 FBI Headquarters Washington, DC I was savoring my first cup of coffee. The hot, brown liquid burning my mouth, irritating me almost as much as the argument my partner was building against my going on our next case. Violent Crimes was overwhelmed with work and they had asked Mulder to help them out. A serial rapist had attacked a number of students at a university in Nashville, Tennessee. The attacker didn't kill his victims. For some unknown reason the victims couldn't remember him, despite the fact all of the attacks happened in daylight or in well-lit dorm rooms. Mulder told me he didn't want me to go. He thought it was too soon after what happened. *What happened*. I wasn't the only one having difficulty with *that* word. He told me there were no autopsies to perform. He said I should just take a few days off while he worked this one and get some rest. "There are no autopsies to perform *yet*, Mulder. We don't know this man won't kill one of the victims or his next victim. Besides, last time I checked, the sum-total of my job isn't simply doing autopsies." "Scully, I didn't mean to imply..." "I know what you're trying to do, Mulder. Stop trying to protect me. This is my job, I know the risks. I can handle it." I shot him a look, the one that says `Don't argue with me.' He sighed heavily, in defeat, and told me we were leaving in the morning and I better call and get my tickets. He hadn't ordered them for me. I wasn't surprised. I picked up the case file and began reading it. As I read it, I was subconsciously comparing the case to mine. This case was definitely different. I still see my attacker's face, especially in my dreams. The victims are all between 18 and 20. They all remember being attacked by a white male, between 5 and 7 p.m. But they cannot remember the man's face. There is concrete evidence to support they've been attacked, including a trademark three inch knife wound just below the left eye. An unwelcome memory entered my mind when I read that. The small gash my attacker gave me just before Mulder shot him. It was a superficial wound below my left shoulder, only requiring ten stitches, but I have a nasty scar. The scar is almost gone. I felt the hair on my neck rise and I shook all over. "Scully, are you OK?" I hate it when he does that. I know he doesn't think of me as some weak willed, simpering woman. But ever since that night, he hovers like a mother hen. It's beyond the point of pissing me off, but I don't want to argue. "Mulder, I'm just cold. Everything is *fine*." "I've heard that one before," he muttered but left me alone. At the time, I had convinced myself I had to go on this case to prove I was alright. Not just to myself, but to Mulder too. I foolishly wished that by immersing myself in someone else's attack, I would forget my own. XxX 11:21 p.m. October 13 Dana Scully's Apartment Washington, DC Sweat was pouring off of me in rivers. In my head, I could hear my cries for help. I could feel my vulnerability and it was tearing me apart. I felt the knife cut into me and the blood trickling down. I saw my ripped, beige skirt and torn nylons. Later, I would burn that outfit, I could hardly bear to touch it. When I awoke, the only sound filling my room was that of my labored breathing. The dreams had become more vivid and I was beginning to lose sleep. I think I understand what Mulder goes through when he dreams about Samantha. I know how terrible it must be. He doesn't mention it much. I hadn't even told him about my dreams. How could I? I'm still mortified he saw what happened to me. He saw just how vulnerable the tough as nails Dana Scully could be. I walked to my bathroom. Starring at myself in the mirror, I noticed a touch of crimson staining my pink satin sleep shirt. I undid the buttons to find the scar of my knife wound bleeding slightly. Deep, pink scratches surrounded it. I looked at my hands and found the culprit. My perfectly manicured nails bore the evidence, blood touching the underside of them. I washed my hands until they were raw and swallowed two Tylenol PM. An hour later I fell into a dreamless sleep. XxX 9:01 a.m. October 14 US Air Flt. 1737 I knew I shouldn't have taken two of those pills. I'm so small I really only needed one, but I wanted to make damn sure I slept. So I was working on half a brain that morning and I was damn glad Mulder drove us to the airport. When we got on the plane, for once, I was relieved. This was one flight that wasn't going to be a nail biter for me. I was so exhausted, I knew I'd be out cold once we were in the air. I nodded off, but it wasn't a restful sleep. The nightmare was back with a vengeance. I was twisting so hard to escape him, his hands tearing at my clothes. I try to kick him but he avoids my foot, then he pulls the knife. "Scully! Scully wake up, you're dreaming." My eyes flew open, Mulder was holding my face in his hands. His deep, hazel eyes focused on me with his dreaded concern. I felt his thumb brush a tear away from my face and I turned bright red. I hate for him to see me this way. I am *not* weak and I hate these stupid dreams for making me seem so. "Scully, will you please talk to me about this. You haven't said a word about your attack since it happened. I know you have to be dealing with..." "No, Mulder. You don't know. And I'm dealing with this just fine, thank you. I can handle this. I will not live my life in fear, that's allowing that bastard to win. Could we please just drop it?" I spat the words out a little to angrily. This is Mulder, I reminded myself. If it weren't for him, I'd be dead and "that bastard" would still be on the loose. "I'm sorry. I must be a little edgy. You know I hate to fly." It wasn't the flying and we both knew it. But I was convinced that if I just willed it so, I would be OK. Everything would go back to normal. My breathing settled as I stared out the window. I could hear Mulder sleeping fitfully next to me. At least one of us was getting some rest. A flight attendant stopped to take drink orders. She reached over Mulder's sleeping form to get my attention. I felt her hand touch my shoulder and I must have jumped three feet in the air. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she said. I clinched my teeth and asked her for some water. XxX 6:37 p.m. October 13 Outside Residence Hall University Blvd. Nashville, TN The pretty blonde was walking up the sidewalk. She can't see me here in the bushes. I've been watching her for days. She's so thin, with bright blue eyes and perfect cheek bones. I can't wait to mark her. Then she'll be mine, just like the rest. They won't know me, they never will. But they will always be mine and bear the mark to show it. I step out of the bushes in front of her and she jumps. I flip the switch on the device in my pocket and it's low hum begins. "Don't be afraid of me my dear, I just want to talk to you." She takes a couple of steps away from me, they always try to fight it, but then it overcomes them. Her eyelids droop. I have her now. I pull her into the bushes and make sure no one is around. I pull out my knife, a Spyder, with it's short blade and serrated edge. It fits so neatly in my pocket, so well in my hand. I slice the buttons from her blouse, it isn't necessary, I just like to keep a little memento. I like doing that while they lie there, helpless, unable to move. I flip open the button to her pants and pull down the zipper. This is so easy. Such a simple pleasure. Once I'm inside her, it isn't long until the release and I'm through. Disposable girls, it's truly the only way to go. Who needs a relationship, people are such bores, especially women. I turn off my wonderful little device. It's been on long enough and it will take her awhile to come to. I reach for my knife again and slide the blade along her face, a crimson line underlining my mark. "Be mine always, sweetheart." Now that I've taken my earplugs out, I hear steps. I've got to get out of here fast. I zip my pants and run to my car parked just behind a dumpster. I'm in it and long gone. So far gone, I don't realize until it's too late. I've left my transmitter behind. XxX 4:35 p.m. October 14 Metropolitan Nashville Police Department Downtown, Nashville "Agents Mulder and Scully, thank you for coming. We've had another rape, just last night. But this time we found something. Take a look at this." FBI Field Agent, Tom Roland pulled an odd looking black, plastic box out of an evidence bag. The device looked like a radio, but with an odd conical piece protruding a half inch out from its center. There was also a red plastic switch on the back. "Our suspect likes a little music with his mayhem," Mulder mused. "Not exactly, Agent Mulder. I accidentally flipped this switch last night and Detective Cannon and I nearly passed out. I've taken the batteries out. Best I can figure, the damn thing acts like an audio stun gun." "Are you saying our suspect uses this to subdue his victims? If it effected both of you, wouldn't it effect the attacker as well?" Mulder asked. "Your guess is as good as mine. Do you want to speak with the victim now?" Roland led us into a room where a young blonde woman sat. She was holding a cup of water. When we walked in her hands shook so badly she spilled half of it. I felt my own hands start to shake. "Ms. Jordan, this is Agent Mulder and Agent Scully. They have some questions for you regarding your attack." The woman looked blankly at Roland. She had heard him, but I could tell she was still in shock. I remembered my own interview with the police. I was a total automaton, merely responding to questions, I felt like I was outside my body watching someone else answer for me. I remained quiet and Mulder began to ask Shelly Jordan about her rape. He asked her the time and the place of her attack and where she was coming from. Jordan knew she was attacked by a man. She was doing fine until he asked her what the man looked like. She sobbed loudly. Her shoulders hitched violently and she brought her head down to the tabletop. On it's own my hand reached across the table to hers. "Ms. Jordan, I know how difficult this is, but you've got to try to remember. It will help us to catch the man who did this to you." The automaton was back. "There...there...was this humming...and then it's...it's, I can't remember," she dissolved into tears, lowering her head again. Mulder picked up the evidence bag from the table and pulled out the device. He rolled it over in his hands a couple of times and spoke softly to her. "Did you see this device either before or after you were attacked?" She looked up slowly. She stared at the black box, but her eyes weren't focusing, "No...I can't remember anything." Mulder motioned for us to leave and told her to contact us if she thought of anything more. I stared blankly at the small cut under her eye and the black railroad track crossing it. I felt my hand rest on my jacket over the scar. Mulder's voice brought me back. "Scully, are you coming?" I walked out the door behind him as two police officers walked in with more paperwork for her. Can't they just let her be for awhile? I was staring at the floor as we walked and Mulder was droning on about where to go from this point. Something about wanting to get a profile of the attacker. "What did you say, Mulder?" He sighed heavily and stopped. He placed both hands on my shoulders. I shivered, it was more contact than I could deal with, and I shrugged away from him. He clenched his jaw, "Scully, I really think you should sit this out. It's too close to home." "Mulder, I'm here already. I'll get some sleep and I'll be fine, and I'm not having this argument with you again. I was just lost in my thoughts there. What did you say about a profile?" He told me he was going to pick up the copies of the other reports he'd requested and that he wanted to come up with a profile of the attacker tonight. He wanted to get over to the University early in the morning to check out the crime scenes. He asked me to arrange to have the device the Nashville cops had found sent to the FBI Crime Lab. XxX 8:47 p.m. October 14 Harrison Inn Nashville, TN "So, what is the box for? It disables them, but that doesn't explain the short term memory loss. Why can't they remember this guy?" I asked as Mulder struggled with the other details of the case. "I don't know, Scully. None of them were drugged. Perhaps he uses the device to hypnotise his victims and then suggests they won't remember him. From what I've pieced together in these reports, we're dealing with a white male, with a possible scientific or military background. He's a control freak, wanting to mark these women as his but not allow them to know him. He makes a permanent impression on their bodies while they have almost no meaning to him whatsoever. They are merely vehicles of his release..." "MULDER!" "What Scully?" "You sound so callous. This...this...animal get's to these women in the most intimate way possible. He tears their clothes, violates their bodies, he... he..." "Are we talking about this case or yours, Scully? Those women's clothes were cut, precisely, with a knife. Just like the cuts below their eyes." "I...," He crossed the room to sit next to me on the bed and pulled my chin up to force me to look at him. " I have to profile this man, Scully. Other than the fact he appears to use some disabling device, he's a garden variety serial rapist, just like the man who got you. That may sound callous, but they are all fundamentally alike. They get off on the power trip of subduing and violating women. In most cases, they can't get off unless they bring pain to someone else. They twist sex into something ugly because they can't enjoy it the way the rest of us do. They want others to feel the hurt they do, only they inflict it ten fold..." "Mulder, STOP. I know the psychiatric make up of a serial rapist. I studied plenty of cases at the Academy. I'm tired. I'm just going to bed, you've got everything together. Let's have breakfast around 7 and head over to the university at 8, OK?" "Fine, Scully." I opened the adjoining door to our rooms. I had gotten over my initial annoyance at Mulder's insistence that we have adjoining rooms. Ever since my attack he's wanted it. At first, I was too tired to argue, now I just don't want to. And maybe it does make me feel a little safer. All I would have to do is call out to him if I needed his help. But I *don't* need his help. "Goodnight, Mulder." I shut the door behind me and leaned back against it. If I could just get through this case, I'd be all right, I just had to get through it. Tomorrow we'd get more leads and catch this animal and it would be over. Please let it be over quickly. I walked into my bathroom and drew a hot bath. I sunk into the tub, willing my muscles to relax. I was tired of being exhausted an unable to sleep. Tired of always feeling on edge. The water was soothing and through my exhaustion I could feel the fine threads of relaxation. I closed my eyes and willed myself to think of something pleasant. But it wouldn't come. All I could see was Shelly Jordan's face and the cut under her eye. My eyes flew open and looked at the scar on my own chest. I touched the raw area I had scratched the night before. I so badly wished I didn't have this scar. It laughs at me every time I undress, teasing me with my own frailty. Dana Scully can be hurt, the proof is right here. I had to take two Tylenol PM again that night. XxX 10:03 p.m. October 14 Turtle Ridge Apartments Antioch, TN "Metro police are still searching for the University Rapist. Officials tell News 2, they've called the FBI in to help with their investigation. Meantime, another student was raped last night near Residence Hall. Police say they are following all possible leads..." "Ha! Good luck. Those morons couldn't find their ass with both hands and a set of deer antlers. FBI, really, they must be desperate," I say to myself, laughing at the incompetence of Nashville's Finest. I click off the television and go back to work. It was a big mistake to lose the transmitter. But I doubt even those FBI goons can figure out what it's for. Biotex buried the Audio Dynamite project so deep it's resting somewhere with Hoffa. When the world found out about Biotex's covert chemical weapon experiments at Nashville hospitals, they wouldn't dare let them find out about their other dirty little secret. I had developed a way to disable people using sound. The military, of course, was extremely interested. As long as your soldiers had the specialized ear plugs, they were immune to the effects of the audio waves, but anyone who didn't was reduced to a harmless lump of rubber. The other advantage of my device was a certain amount of short-term memory loss. Not only could you disable the enemy, you could take his memory too. But they shut me down and out. The work I had done didn't leave me much of a choice of careers, so I was relegated to fixing stereos and computers at Electronic City. I've grown very bored with it, but it allows me access to most of the things I need to make the transmitters. I'm putting one together now. At first, I only intended to test them. I just wanted to see if what worked on the lab rats worked on people. I tried it first on myself and was happily surprised ed. At the effect. But as time passed and I found no *real* employment I grew restless. I started drinking and, one night, I was just horny. What do I have to offer a woman? Nothing, a bunch of broken dreams I can't even talk about. I wasn't about to go to a prostitute, you get things from those women Ajax won't rub off. No, I wanted someone fresh, clean and someone I'd never have to see again. Most young college women haven't had too many experiences, and I'm sure the one's I pick are clean. I thought the device would work so well they wouldn't even remember the encounter, but it doesn't. But now, that's just part of the thrill. They know they've been violated, but not who did the deed. Occasionally, I see one of them on the street and walk right by them. I should be ashamed, but it just makes me hard. I've finished another device, but I'll lay low for a few days. The university is bound to be crawling with police the next few days. Besides there are other places I can go. There's that lovely little school near Music Row, maybe I'll go there next. XxX 10:13 p.m. October 14 Harrison Inn Dana Scully's room CRACK. His body falls over mine and I push him away violently, blood oozing from his temple. I am dimly aware that Mulder is an excellent shot. I'm running into my building, Mulder is running behind me, calling me, pleading with me to stop. He catches me in the hallway. I wince when he grabs my shoulder where the knife wound is. He pulls me into the apartment, into the bathroom. He tears my ruined silk blouse away from my shoulder to look at the cut. I feel the sting of the alcohol and then he presses a piece of gauze to the wound. I hear myself sob as I see my reflection in the mirror. I don't want to see this. I don't want Mulder see this, it's too much. I run into the living room away from him, and I hear the sirens coming. I sat straight up in the bed almost crashing into the head of my partner. His hands were on my shoulders, my *bare* shoulders. I realized I had torn my grey t shirt off in my sleep and I was bare to the waist before him. At least it was dark in the room and, to his credit, Mulder was looking directly into my eyes. But I was too scared and too tired to even be ashamed. "Mulder, I'm fine it was just a dream." I realized how ridiculous it sounded, but I was trying to convince myself more than him. His eyes turned from concern to anger and then he spoke. "You. Are. Not. Fine. Don't say it again, I'm tired of that lie. We spend our entire existence in search of the truth in our professional lives and you owe me as much about this. I was there. Stop shutting me out Dana." Dana. He called me Dana. It's like when you're a child and your mother calls you by your first and middle name. You know you've really torn it. I had really torn it with Mulder. I thought he understood. This was so personal. I couldn't let anyone, even him, be apart of it. It hurt me so much I wanted to avoid it, why would anyone else want or need to share it. It was just too unbearable and I would not make him deal with it. I knew he felt guilty. I knew he'd cursed himself a million times for not being a few minutes earlier. But if I hadn't left that stupid laptop in his car, he wouldn't have come at all and this conversation would have never taken place. "Mulder..." "NO! Scully, we're going to talk about this and we're going to talk about this now! You've lived in denial too long. Don't you think I see that? I know you're scared but I'm here for you and, damn it, I need to talk about it too." He reached out and touched his index finger to my scar. I tried to scoot away from him, feeling self-conscious and the walls were starting to come up. But he pulled me to him, not roughly, with lowered eyes. That's when I noticed he was crying. "Scully, please don't pull away from me. Don't let that bastard make you afraid of me. I couldn't bear it if you thought I was at all like what that animal was..." I touched his face and looked into his eyes. "No, Mulder. I know you aren't like him, I just don't want you thinking I'm vulnerable, that you can't depend on me, that you have to protect me." His hazel eyes flashed and his grip tightened on my arms. "Scully, all of us are vulnerable at one time or another. That's what makes us human. Just because this happened to you doesn't mean you're any less strong or any less of a person. He did not take that from you, no one could." Our faces were so close. I felt his hot breath on my face and I had become lost in his eyes. I was drawing the strength from them I so desperately needed. I was also seeing something else, desire. It was washing over both of us in waves. I was dumbstruck. Since I had been attacked, I had found any physical contact repulsive. But this, this was different. There were undercurrents here that truly frightened me. I know I love Mulder. I was sure he felt the same. But we used that energy to make us a formidable team. We know each other inside and out. Our bond is rock solid. We had never stepped over the line though. I'm not sure why. Bureau policy, our own fears of what it could mean. In that moment, all those reasons were fading into the dark shadows of the room. I have no idea why I did it, but I did. Maybe I needed to know I still could touch another person. Maybe I thought I'd find the resolution I needed or maybe it was the intensity of our emotions. I leaned in closer and kissed him, chastely at first, just for reassurance, for his warmth. But a split second later it was something else. His hands came to my face and then slid around to the back of my head, deepening the kiss. It sent shockwave straight to my belly. I was actually feeling arousal. My hands slipped down his lean chest and rested over his sternum. He leaned me back onto the bed and I slipped my arms around him. I felt his tongue questioning at my lips and I opened my mouth to allow him in. He tasted so warm and rich, so good. He suddenly pulled away and I groaned in protest. He looked down at me, more than a little shocked at what had just transpired. There were a million questions in his eyes. "Mulder, touch me. You're the only one I trust, the only one I... Love. I need you to touch me." I felt him grow hard against my thigh and that sent a bolt of sheer heat to my core. With one lazy finger, he traced a line from my lips to the stiff peaks of my nipples. He grazed one, then the other softly. I gasped and then I felt his warm mouth descend on me. I cried out his name, but this time not in fear. His hand continued farther down, reaching the tangle of hair at the apex of my thighs. He gently slipped his fingers into my hot sheath, stroking gently. It was wonderful how gentle he was being, but it was too gentle. I moaned, "Mulder, please." His pace quickened and I began to shudder. I could feel myself getting closer. His thumb flicked once and then twice at the bundle of nerves at my opening. I could feel my muscles clenching around him. I gasped and moaned. I knew I was going to fall over the edge. I needed to. I wanted to. "Mulderrrr..." His pace became impossibly faster, moving in and out of me. As I finally exploded into a million pieces, I heard him murmur, "I love you." My breathing slowly returned to normal and he was kissing me softly. I felt warm and very hazy. My hand languidly stretched out to find the length of him. Oh God, he felt like hot silk. I stroked him lightly. "God, Scully," he panted. I picked up the pace, wanting to share my own pleasure with him. The pleasure I had been convinced no one would be able to give me again. I became dimly aware of his mouth on my nipple, his tongue tracing lazy circles around the tip. I felt my heat rise. Could I possibly want someone this much? His hand wandered to my center again, both of us stroking one another in a timeless movement. I could tell both of us were nearing a second crescendo. Then we were both falling through layer upon layer of ecstacy, calling out to each other. Spent, we lie in an embrace, Mulder held me from behind. For the first time since my attack, I felt at ease. Mulder was not. I felt him moving restlessly behind me. "Mulder?" "Scully, are you...I...I...didn't want to rush..." "Mulder, I'm fi-...what just happened...I needed it to happen, I *wanted* it to. Please don't feel guilty. I'm only sorry we weren't...together." I turned and took his face in my hands. He shook his head. "I love you, Dana. It's OK. I just wanted to make you happy. I just wanted you to have what *you* wanted." "It's alright Mulder, get some sleep. We have a long day tomorrow. I love you." I feel asleep in his arms, the sound of his breathing kept the nightmares away that night. XxX 4:45 p.m. October 15 17th Ave. S. Nashville, TN She isn't a college student, but she's one of these young bunnies that come to Music City trying to make her way in the country music biz. They really are pathetic, so young and naive. They'll do just about anything to get a deal. She's just come out of her third studio carrying her guitar. Looks a little dejected. She'll feel worse when I'm through with her. I walk up behind her, "I'd like to talk about your music, honey." She turns to face me and it's there. The fear. God, that makes me so hot. I finger the device in my pocket and she's gone. And what do we have here, an empty alley. I'm so lucky. I pull her back there where we can get *real* acquainted. The corner of this building does nicely. From the looks of it, it hasn't had a tenant for years. The real estate sign out front told me that much. I feel so good I'm not ashamed or worried to cry out in release this time. As I pull away from her I see him, standing there in shock. He's so close, the transmitter should be working on him too. I grab my Spyder knife and run at him. He will have to die. He's fast. Running in front of me, he ducks down another alley. I'm closing on him now. He's just passed the door in front of me, another ten steps and I'll be able to jump him...and then a door opens. A slightly overweight security guard steps out of one of the old houses serving as a recording studio and sees me standing there with a knife. This is not good. I freeze, I've forgotten I have the transmitter. In terror, I run. He's huffing and puffing behind me, but I give him the slip. It wasn't exactly a challenge, but I'm going to have to hide in this dumpster a lot longer than I want to. I hear sirens now. This is really not good. This was way too close for comfort. XxX 2:37 p.m. October 15 Metropolitan Nashville Police Department Downtown Nashville When I told Mulder it was going to be a long day I didn't realize how prophetic I was being. We made it to the university around 8 and spent the whole day viewing crime scenes and little else. We talked to the other three victims and they gave us the same story Shelly Jordan did. No recollection of their attacker. I checked in with the FBI Crime Lab to see how the analysis of the device the police found was coming. I'd sent it to the best technical expert we've got. All he was able to tell me was that it seemed to be some sort of audio stun gun. "Gee, where have we heard that before," Mulder groused. The tech said the tests they ran proved conclusively the device could be used to disable someone. They also said the tests showed a certain amount of short-term memory loss when the device was used. No known company, either private or military was known to manufacture such a device. Mulder had been dead on when he suspected our rapist was some sort of scientist. Mulder had been unimpressed with the tech's analysis. He called the Lone Gunmen. "Frohike, you guys ever hear of an audio stun gun?" "Not recently, but let me check with our hacker and I'll get back to you. Why, do you need one to subdue your sexy partner?" "Frohike, that's not funny. Just call me if you get anything." I had heard Frohike's remark and winced, but offered sheepishly, "He doesn't know about my attack, Mulder. It's OK." "He still shouldn't say things like that." Three hours later we were rehashing police reports when Mulder's cell phone chirped, "Mulder." The Gunmen's contact had dug up some information about a now defunct company called Biotex. In the late eighties, Biotex had been a successful defense contractor specializing in chemical weapons. The government had several contracts with them until it was discovered Biotex had been testing the weapons on mentally disabled patients at hospitals in Nashville. "You can't swing a dead cat over your head without hitting a hospital in Nashville," Mulder mused, "No wonder they were working out of here." In addition to their chemical experiments, Frohike's contact, also found they had a project, called Audio Dynamite, investigating the uses of audio frequencies to disable people. The project was abandoned when the government forced Biotex to shut down. "We're you able to get any names, Frohike." "No, Mulder, this thing was buried deep. From what it looks like, there was only one person working on the project and he is never named in any the materials we hacked. They just refer to him as `our operative'. Apparently, there was cause for concern that terrorists might get a hold of this technology." "Thanks, Frohike," he pocketed his phone, "Scully, I'm going to the library and look at some of the newspaper reports and see if I can get some names. Someone is bound to know about this guy. Call me if anything comes up." "What do you want me to do, sit around and..." Just then, Roland came around the corner with two other men. Roland was asking questions and one of the men was translating in sign language to the younger man in the middle. Roland stopped when he saw us. "There's been another rape, but we have a witness this time." XxX 6:09 p.m. October 15 Metropolitan Nashville Police Dept. Downtown Peter Laidlaw was deaf and didn't hear the rape going on behind the vacant building he was cleaning. But when he walked out to catch his bus home he saw the end of it. He told me he felt paralyzed at first because he didn't know what to do. Then the man chased him. He said he had pulled a very small knife, with a heavily serrated edge. The man had come very close to catching Peter when the security guard stepped out. The police sketch artist was able to do a picture based on Peter's and the security guard's descriptions. "Get copies of that to all the area colleges," I told Roland and went to call a taxi. Once again, Mulder had ditched me without the rental and I'd have to cab it back to the hotel. I walked out of the building, glad to be out of there for the day. As I was waiting for my cab, I saw Peter Laidlaw waiting patiently for his bus. Then I saw the man crawling out of the bushes, holding a knife. XxX 6:48 p.m. October 15 Outside Police Headquarters Downtown Nashville I can't believe it. This is too easy. The bastard's sitting there waiting for the bus. I figure he must be deaf since the device didn't work on him, it's the only way it wouldn't have. So I'll sneak up behind him. This is a bit tricky with the Police Department right here, but I love a challenge. I've never killed before, but at least the first time's gonna be easy. If I stick him just right in the neck it'll be over quickly and I can go on home. This man deserves to die for making me hide in that filthy dumpster for two hours. I'll have to burn these clothes and I'm not sure I'll even get the smell off of me. I'm almost too him, very careful now. I don't want to him to see me before this is over. I don't have the energy to chase him again. It would be so much easier to concentrate if that clicking sound would go... "STOP, Federal Agent!" What have we here, pretty little redhead with a gun. Oh my. I finger the switch on the plugs in my ears and this should take care of you. That's it, now. I'll just take that gun from you. Shit, where's the deaf guy...Oh God here come the cops. No time to get to the car, looks like I'll be hiding some place unsavory again. XxX 7:07 p.m. October 15 Outside Police Headquarters "Agent Scully are you all right?" "I'm fine. He got my gun, we need to go after him, Roland." "No Ma'am. I've got officers covering the perimeter looking for him. I'm going to have another officer take you back to your hotel and take Mr. Laidlaw home. I'll place him under 24 hour guard. I got a call from an Assistant Director Skinner, he says the Bureau is extremely anxious about this device falling into the wrong hands." "It's already in the wrong hands, Roland." XxX 9:35 p.m. October 15 Harrison Inn Nashville, TN I had been trying to relax for the last couple of hours. Once again, my vulnerability had been shoved in my face. Once he flipped the switch on that device he could have done anything he wanted. I just got lucky again. I was beginning to wonder when my luck would run out. I wrapped my robe tightly around me and stared out the window, wondering when Mulder would get back. He'd been gone since I had questioned Laidlaw. I wasn't even sure I wanted to see him now, the fear was back. Even though that creep hadn't touched me, he still took away my power, not to mention my weapon. He stripped me of everything but my clothes and I felt very naked. Anger welled up inside of me. I do not want to be a weak person. I will be strong. These are the risks you take as a Federal Agent, but so much has been taken from me. Melissa, the cancer, the...attack. I will not give up the work, that would be admitting defeat and I can't do that. But after what happened that day, I just wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear. I didn't even hear him come in. When I felt his two strong hands come down on my shoulders I jumped and whirled around connecting my fist with his jaw. He fell flat on his ass. "SCULLY! You punched me." "Oh God, Mulder I'm sorry...I thought, that man he..." I collapsed against the wall in sobs, burying my face in my hands. He moved off the bed where he'd landed and pulled my hands away from my face. He held them firmly staring holes through my eyes. "What's going on, Scully?" I told him about the man who almost killed Laidlaw and then stunned me when I tried to stop him. I asked him if he found out any more about Biotex. He said he'd found some leads he wanted to follow up the next day, but that he hadn't really learned anything new. "But I really don't want to talk about that now. I want you to talk to me about what happened and I'm not talking about tonight either. Scully, you've got to work through this. It's eating you up." "Mulder, what do you want me to say," I said, I was so exhausted. Then all the anger finally bubbled to the surface and I let go. "I was raped Mulder. I feel defiled, scared and vulnerable...and I HATE it. I feel like I've had things taken from me that couldn't be taken, I feel like my SOUL has been taken. Everything that was me is gone, Mulder. I'm just some weak, pathetic woman now." He shook his head violently, "NO SCULLY! That animal did NOT do that to you. Don't you EVER think that! He hurt you and I'm glad I killed him for it, but he didn't take you from me...or yourself. He tried but he couldn't and I count myself extremely lucky every day for that. You are still the strong person you've always been. I see it, why can't you?" He pulled me into his arms and I cried. I wished I could see what he saw, because I really hated myself. I pounded my fists on his chest in frustration and he took my hands again and looked deeply into my eyes. He kissed me softly and pulled me back into his embrace, stroking my hair. I felt myself relax a little. "You finally said it you know." "Said what, Mulder?" "That you were raped. You've admitted it to yourself and to me," he pushed me back a little to look at my face, "Whether you know it or not, you are starting to deal with this. That alone should tell you how strong you are." The jangling of the hotel phone interrupted him. "Mulder." "Agent Mulder, we've found a car we think belongs to our suspect, it was abandoned behind headquarters. We've traced it to an apartment in Antioch, we're going to search it, we figured you and Agent Scully would want to be there." "We're on our way." XxX 11:57 p.m. October 15 Turtle Ridge Apartments Antioch, TN WHUMP. As the door crashed to the ground, we rushed into the dark apartment, guns drawn. Mulder switched on the light showing us no one was home. The home of Dr. Lawrence Maxwell. From the looks of his place, Dr. Maxwell had fallen on hard times. The apartment complex was in a rough part of town. I saw several broken down cars covered with graffiti in the parking lot. The concrete of the sidewalk was broken to the point grass was growing through it. Inside Maxwell's unit was an easy chair, an old coffee table and a television. In the kitchen, roaches were exploring mountains of dirty dishes. The kitchen table was littered with nondescript, black electronics components. But the walls of Dr. Maxwell's house told another story. Just above the television an MIT diploma hung. Maxwell had graduated with a doctorate in electrical engineering. There were also pictures of a young man with various military personnel. I wandered over to the kitchen table to get a look at whatever craft project Maxwell had been working on. I couldn't make heads or tails of most of it, just a few diodes and transistors. What caught my eye were two putty colored lumps of plastic on the corner of the table. On closer inspection, I noted they would just fit inside the ear canal. That would explain how Maxwell isn't drugged by his own device. Donning my latex gloves, I placed them in an evidence bag. I walked through the dirt colored hallway back to the bedroom, where Mulder and two of the police officers were working. Mulder was leafing through the pages of a red notebook with an crooked emblem on the cover. The police were dusting for fingerprints on two jars. On closer inspection the jars were filled with buttons, some of them broken, and scraps of cloth. The word "Valentines" was written across the front of the jars in black magic marker. I grew cold. I made my way to the nightstand beside the unmade bed. Lying on top was one of those black composition notebooks, like the ones students use to keep journals. I opened it, seeing pages filled with dates and times, description of women. My hands began to shake. I turned over the last page and forced myself to read it. I felt myself grow sick, but fought off the urge to vomit. I threw the offending book against the wall and leaned my hands down on the nightstand to brace myself. I needed to regain my composure. I was letting this case get too close to me. "Scully?" "What Mulder?" "You destroying evidence over there, or killing one of those elephant sized roaches?" he quipped. I picked up the composition book and handed it to him. "Here Mulder, this ought to add to your profile." Mulder had found a notebook containing sketches of the transmitter Maxwell used. None of us were surprised to see the Biotex logo gracing the book's cover. We could only assume the notes on the diagram, the same handwriting as in the journal, were Maxwell's. The notebook listed potential uses for Maxwell's device, but Maxwell had obviously come up with his own. After thoroughly examining Maxwell's journal, it seemed clear he would strike again. But after what I had seen earlier that day, it seemed most likely his next move would be to kill Peter Laidlaw. XxX 12:39 a.m. October 16 Laidlaw Residence Nashville The officer's guarding Laidlaw's house hadn't seen anything unusual. So we parked across the street to stake the place out for awhile. I pulled the evidence bag with the earplugs out of my pocket to show Mulder. "I found these. He must use them to avoid the effects of the frequency." "Let me see those, Scully." Mulder turned them over in his hands, scrutinizing them closely. The devices were the outer shells of inside the ear hearing aids. When I had switched one on earlier, I noted it made a buzzing sound. From what I could tell, Maxwell had rigged them to be a transmitter rather than a receiver, thus canceling out whatever noise or frequency his device put out. "He won't be able to use the transmitter without those." "Well, I hope you're right Scully. But from the looks of it, these have never been used. Clean as a whistle, no ear wax. I think these are his spare pair." "Yuck, Mulder." Mulder's cell phone rang. One of the cops looking for Maxwell around police headquarters, found him crawling out of a dumpster. Several officers were now involved in a foot chase. Mulder got general directions to where they were and we took off. XxX 1:07 a.m. October 15 Mulder's phone chirped again as we were careening towards the other side of town. The cops had cornered Maxwell in an abandoned warehouse. Two officers were inside and shots had been fired. Five minutes later we were there. Mulder told the officer in charge not to let anyone else go in. If Maxwell had that device he could disable them, not to mention he still had my Sig. Mulder turned and looked at me, "I don't think you should go in there. Let me flush him out." "I *am* going in there Fox Mulder, you're going to have to shoot me to keep me from it." I began to walk toward the entrance, pulling out the weapon I requisitioned from the Nashville Police. I heard him close on my heels. His heavy hand caught my shoulder. "The ear plugs, Scully. Put them in, at least do that for me." I shuddered at the thought, but he was right. It made the odds some what better. I nodded and pulled the evidence bag from my pocket. I would be able to hear very little, not footsteps behind me or even a cry for help. The inside of the warehouse was dark. Mulder had gone in the back and I went in the front. Part of the warehouse had burned and there was a heavy smell of smoke lingering in the air. I was moving stealthily, relying on only my eyes to tell me what lie ahead and behind me. My foot brushed against something. I grabbed the flashlight from my jacket pocket and shined it on the body of a dead police officer, he'd been shot in the chest. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone scramble behind some overturned boxes. I didn't hear myself shout it, but I hoped Mulder did. "STOP, Federal Agent, you're under arrest." Gunshots can be heard through these devices, they're loud enough. I was also able to ascertain the one I heard had not been aimed at me. I ran in the direction of the sound. I ran until I was just before a clearing in the rubble. Moonlight was streaming in from a broken window illuminating two figures. One was crumpled on the floor, not moving. The other was wandering around, lost and holding a gun. I instantly knew what had happened. Mulder had tried to surprise him, but Maxwell got the drop on him then lost him in the scuffle. I knew Mulder was hurt, but in that light I couldn't tell how bad. Maxwell's form was getting closer to Mulder's. I had to move quickly. "Drop the weapon Maxwell." He couldn't see me, he whipped around pointing the weapon in all directions. I couldn't hear if he responded. "I have your ear plugs Maxwell. Your device won't work on me." I began walking towards him, he still hadn't seen me. The second form on the floor moved, I assume it made noise because Maxwell's attention focused in that direction. I ran out into the light where he could see me and now Maxwell was focused on me again. I could see him more clearly. In the dim glow, I stared at his garbage smudged face. The stench of rotten meat stinging my nose. We had faced off, both holding each other's eyes guns pointed. "Switch the device off Maxwell." He shook his head. "DO IT," I ordered, we were moving in circles around each other. He just grinned at me and stopped in his tracks. He moved the gun from in front of him slowly, towards Mulder, something clicked in my brain his arm was only half way around when the CRACK split my silence. Lawrence Maxwell crumpled like a rag doll in front of me, smoke lifted from the tip of the gun I was holding. My gun rested in Maxwell's lifeless hand. I walked over to him and toed it out of his hand. I reached down to check his pulse, there was none. I pulled the transmitter out of his other hand and smashed it under my heel. I made my way to Mulder, praying his wound would not be fatal. I pulled the plugs from my ears. "Scully...can you hear me now?" he whispered. "Shh, Mulder where are you hit?" "Leg, right here." I pulled out my flashlight to take a look at it. It was a nasty wound, but nothing he wouldn't recover from. I grimly thought of a cranky, immobile Mulder for the next month. "Can you walk?" "I think so, where's the transmitter?" "It's gone, Mulder." I helped him up, he leaned on me as we walked out of the warehouse. The cops were working their way in. I pointed them in the direction of Maxwell and their fallen colleague. XxX 7:17 p.m. One Month Later Dana Scully's Apartment Washington, DC I'd been seeing Karen Kosseff, the social worker, to talk through my own rape. I still occasionally had nightmares. But I seemed to be coping much better. In fact, I had began to feel better after the Maxwell case. Karen seemed to think that case had helped me to regain my sense of self-control, but I refused to analyze it any more. I had just returned from a talk with her and I was expecting Mulder. He had, for the most part, recovered. We'd been assigned a case for the following week. Three loud bangs on the door announced his arrival. "Scully, it's me." I pulled the door open, his lanky frame was filling my doorway. He was standing there in his trademark blue jeans and black sweater. A piece of hair was hanging in his eyes. He was obviously feeling better. "Hey, Hopalong, you here to talk about our next caper?" I grinned when I said it. He winced and pushed past me into the apartment. I noticed the limp was almost gone. He turned and put his hands on his hips and gave me a pouty look. "Oh, Mulder it was just a joke. Please don't tell me I can't tease you anymore." "I never want you to stop teasing me, Scully," he leered. My mind wandered back to that night in Nashville. The night we so nearly completed things. I'd felt guilty about it all along, but at the time I just couldn't deal with that much intimacy. I couldn't stop thinking of that part of my body as being defiled. It made me feel ugly. I felt a shudder of self-consciousness and looked at my feet. "Hey, what's wrong," he crossed over to me placing his huge hands on either shoulder. He was searching my face, "I was just teasing too..." "No, Mulder it's not that. I just feel...guilty about something. We never...finished things in Nashville. I just felt so ugly, so wrong but I wanted to..." I broke into tears and he pulled me to him. His voice was husky. "Scully...Dana...you are NOT ugly. In fact, I don't know of anyone more beautiful. I will not allow you to let the rape make you feel that way. It wasn't something you did!" I pulled back from him. I still had trouble with *that* word. I stepped away from him and sat on the couch. I patted the cushion next to me and he sat down. I explained to him I was seeing Karen, trying to work through it all. I had made big improvements but I was petrified of intercourse. I felt my cheeks go crimson as I said it. He took my hands in his and kissed the palms, "Scully, I'm not going any where. I'll stick by you as long as it takes. You shouldn't worry about that, I'm fine." "No Mulder, I need to move past this. I *want* you, all of you. I want you to make love to me, completely." I leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips. "*We* need this." His arms wrapped around me and pulled me in close. I felt his lips close over mine and my eyes slid shut, savoring his kiss, his flavor. Our tongues began dancing, searching each other out. I felt his hand move to the front of my sweater and flip open the top button. He stopped his attention to my mouth to place a kiss at the base of my throat. I threw my head back and moaned. I felt two more buttons come open and he placed a kiss on the skin under each. He had reached my bra. He looked back up at my face and kissed me on the mouth again. I was working on the button at the top of his jeans. He placed a hand atop mine, stopping me, "Are you sure?" I nodded my head and kissed him as he dispatched with the rest of my buttons. My hands pushed under the hem of his sweater, pushing it over his head, revealing his well muscled chest. I slid my palms over his nipples and he gasped. He flipped the clasp to my bra open and pushed the garment away, dropping it on the floor with my sweater. He repeated my earlier motion, but stopped allowing his fingers to trace lazy circles over my stiff peaks. "Mulder, oh God..." His mouth lowered over my breast and I felt myself become impossibly wet. He was taking his time, giving attention to one then the other. Laving at the nipples like a cat. I tangled my fingers in his hair then forced his mouth up to mine. He broke the kiss and held my face in his hands, staring into my eyes. I raised an eyebrow, questioning him. He rose from the couch and took my hand, pulling me up with him. "Not here." He gestured toward the bedroom. I grinned wickedly and followed him. I went to turn on the light, but his hand stopped me. He shook his head and pulled the button on my jeans free. He slowly lowered my zipper. He stopped when I placed my hand over the fly of his jeans and stroked. He took a sharp breath and then I lowered his zipper. "Take off your pants, Mulder." In the half light of the room, I could see he smiled. He leaned into and whispered, "You take off yours," and then licked my ear. My knees almost gave out. We shed our pants and stood naked before one another. He reached over to me and pulled me into his arms. I could feel his erection against my stomach, I shuddered. He was whispering in my ear again, "You're going to enjoy this Scully, on that you may count. Just tell me what you want, Dana." "You're doing just fine...Fox." He lowered me onto the bed and began suckling at my nipple again. My fingers found their way back to his hair. He slowly kissed a line of fire from my breasts to the apex of my thighs. I felt one of his fingers part me, stroking slowly. "Oh Mulder." Then I felt his lips close over me, licking at my clit, sending shockwaves straight through me. He licked and sucked, my hips began to buck in his mouth. I was nearing the edge, but I wanted us to do this together, I tried to stop him. "Mulder. Please, I want you inside..." My thought processes shut down. He stopped briefly and whispered, "Let me please you first." He descended on me again and I crashed over the cliff. The waves of orgasm shattering me like glass. He pulled me back into his embrace. I kissed him, murmuring I love you's as I worked my way down his chest. I thrust my tongue into his belly button, then licked a lazy circle around it. I teased him with kisses on his abdomen. "Scully, God..." I licked the tip of his penis and felt him shudder, then I took him partially in my mouth, moving up his length. I could hardly believe I was being so bold. I felt his hands on my shoulders, "Scully, stop. Together this time, please." I couldn't deny him. I slid back up to his face and kissed him. We both gasped as he entered me. He slid back and forth slowly at first, allowing me to get used to the feel of him. I was keenly aware of how good it felt. This felt safe, warm, loving. I thrust my hips towards him to take him in deeper. He growled and lowered his head to kiss me. As our tongues dueled, our lower bodies began mimicking their motion. We fell into the ancient rhythm, meeting each other stroke for stroke. I heard my blood pounding in my ears and could feel the rise and fall of his chest with each labored breath. We were both falling. I heard him cry my name and release into me. My muscles clenched around him and I too was crying out. We came back to one another spent, running fingers through one another's hair and murmuring I love you. XxX Epilogue The nightmares have all but disappeared. I feel like I have control of my life again. The biggest challenge I face is keeping the deeper relationship Mulder and I formed from our enemies. We have managed to balance our personal and private lives, but we both know there are risks. Risks. They aren't just a part of my job they are a fundamental part of my life. I understand that more now than I had ever before. From the rape I learned that self-control can be taken from you. Stolen the way a pick pocket takes you money. But in the healing process, I've learned, you can take that control back. I also learned there are times when it's OK to give it to someone else. I've learned to give my control over to Mulder and he to me. It's part of the trust we share. Rape is a terrible thing to endure, of that I'm certain. But I have learned to work past the hurt and humiliation of it. I understand now that what happened to me wasn't my fault and the only person to blame is the man who violated me. But he can't violate me any more. I am stronger now, despite the fact I had to reach the depths of vulnerability to gain that strength. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX