Reply To: FatCat926@msn.com
Title:         Four Letter Words
               Started 4/15/02 finished 5/11/02
Author:        FatCat (feedback to FatCat926@msn.com)
             
Rating:        Was supposed to be NC17 but unfortunately
               the story decided it was a strong PG13

Category:      V MSR, mild Scully angst, Mulder Angst, 

Spoilers:      Everything through Field Trip

Archive:       As you wish, but please keep my name attached.

Summary:       Mulder realizes it's not all about him.

Disclaimer:    They aren't mine nor anyone's
               but CC, Fox, 1013, DD, and GA's.
               
Author's Notes:  This is a completed story in two parts.
               Again, Thank you to Frohike for the excellent
               beta help she gives so generously.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

"Shit!  Damn!  Hell!  Fuck!"  Why does my education and all my 
years at Oxford abandon me when I think about Scully in pain?  
Every thought I am capable of expressing comes out as a four 
letter word.  "Piss!"  I throw in for good measure.

I hate feeling so inadequate.  I hate feeling futile and 
incompetent and totally incapable of protecting her.  But, today I 
don't know if my inability to protect her or her refusal to accept 
my need to protect her upsets me most.  With every fiber in my 
being, I want to shield her, especially from the pain we encounter 
daily.  Pain that happens even during our most mainstream cases.  

Our current case is an excellent example.  It's not even an X-
File.  We're on loan to VCS.  A series of unexplained murders in a 
small community and a few autopsies that don't show a clean-cut 
reason for death and they call in the Spooky Patrol.

Kids.  I hate it when kids are involved in a case.  I can see her 
pull into herself, locking away her feelings so that the unhealed 
wound on her psyche made by Emily will not overwhelm her.  

Why didn't I read the file more thoroughly before I agreed to join 
the team in Halifax, North Carolina.  I should have at least given 
the locals a call to check out the current status of the body 
count.  I could have thought up some reason for her to stay home.  
But no!  I needed her with me.  Profiling can destroy my sanity 
temporarily.  I have become increasingly afraid that I will not be 
able to detach from the mind of the serial killers I seek.  Scully 
is my only link to sanity during these cases.  I can't do this 
without her anymore.  I need her.

I continue to mentally chastise myself as I watch Scully, quietly 
and with great precision, shut the door to the morgue and begin to
walk toward me.  My eyes are glued to her face, or what I can see 
of it.

She is walking with her head down.  One hand is massaging her 
temple.  She probably has a migraine coming on.  She had not 
removed the scrubs provided by the coroner.  A fact I am made 
aware of by her hand raising to swipe the blue cap from her head.  
As she lets her hand flutter down to her side, I take in the rest 
of her body language.  She is hurt, torn by the savagery of the 
wounds on these unknown children's bodies.

There are those four letter words again.

Oh, Scully!  I wish I could take away all your pain.  I wish I 
could restore your ability to bear children of your own.  I know 
you would make a good mother.  You would love them, Scully, as you 
loved Emily.  You would kiss and hug and be strong enough to 
discipline them without using emotional manipulation or 
deprivation and physical pain.  You would keep them safe and give 
them the strength to openly love others as you would love them.

It's all my fault, Scully.  If you had never joined the X-Files 
you would be safe, living a normal life.

God, I would give up everything to make you happy.  I would give 
up all the four letter words that describe my feelings for you-
want, need, and love.  I would give my life to fix the pain in 
yours. I would give up the X-Files. I'd even give you up to 
another if my action would assure that you could have a better 
life.

As I think this last part, I feel a flush of heat throughout my 
entire body.  I am suddenly weak and drained.

The case is over.  The Spooky Patrol found not only the cause of 
death, but the killer.  The identification of the bodies of the 
children was the last step.  We only have to complete our report 
to the locals and we will be done.  I lean back against the wall 
and watch Scully slowly walk the last few yards to my side.  

Damn, I'm tired.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"Mulder, are you all right?"  I strode up to his side just as he 
began a slow, graceful decent to the floor.

"I'm okay, Scully.  I just got dizzy there for a moment."  Mulder 
was quick to assure me as I helped him climb to his feet.

"Mulder, the case here is essentially done, let's pick up our bags 
at the police station and drive home right away.  We can fax in 
our final report on Monday."  I was sure he would at least offer a 
token resistance, but he must feel worse than I realized because 
he immediately agreed.  

"That sounds great, Scully," was all he said.  "I'll wait for you 
in the car."  He walked through  the door to the parking lot and 
on toward the car.  I was surprised to see him turn toward the 
passenger side.

"Are you all right to drive?"  Mulder asked as I settled in and 
fastened my seat belt about fifteen minutes later.  I felt 
refreshed after using the shower facilities provided by the 
county.  It's strange how some of the smallest communities have 
the best facilities for its employees.

"Sure, Mulder," I answered.  "Try to rest for a while.  We're only 
bout five hours from home."

By the time I pulled up to the Halifax Police Station he was fast 
asleep.  He stirred as I returned to the car after speaking to the 
chief and loading our luggage in the trunk.

He tried to wake up.  "Sorry, Scully.  Did you need help with the 
bags?"  

"Shhhh, Mulder.  Go back to sleep."  I whispered.

"I don't know why I feel so wiped out, Scully," he murmured.

"It must be the residual effects of the spores from the fungus in 
Asheville.  You should not have come back to work this quickly."  
I gently fussed at him.

"Scully, I'm fine.  I'm just tired.  Besides, you were ready to 
come back.  Why would you think I shouldn't be just as fit as 
you?"  Mulder groused.

"Mulder, you were exposed to the spores and the secretion for a 
more prolonged period than I.  Your system is just taking a little 
more time to rid itself of the residual effects.  Go to sleep, 
partner.  I've got your back."  I smiled and patted his hand 
before starting the car.

Luckily, we were only five hours from home.  I am wearier than I 
will admit to Mulder, but the thoughts of spending another night 
in a motel room instead of my own apartment gave me fresh resolve 
to make the drive.

Mulder was asleep before we hit the outskirts of Halifax.  He 
began to have nightmares when we were about two hours from his 
apartment.  I tried to wake him, having to finally pull over to
rouse him from the depths of REM sleep.  He never did wake up 
completely, but did not appear to be dreaming again.

Why couldn't this man have an untroubled night's sleep?  But what 
do I expect?  After profiling a madman like this one, Mulder 
always has a hard time letting go.  Mulder is one of the finest 
people I know and deserves to find some measure of peace.  I often 
wonder if those who we pursue have nightmares-or were they able to 
sleep unaffected by their villainy.  The irony of it makes me 
crazy if I dwell on it for long.  

I slowly pulled back out into the road and continued home.  
'Please, Lord, give this man a few hours of rest.'  I prayed.  I 
smiled to myself.  'I wonder if Mulder knows how much I pray for 
him?'

As night fell and it came harder and harder to stay alert.  Only 
the fact that I was less than an hour outside Arlington kept me 
going.  At least Mulder was sleeping with no nightmares.

I switched on the radio to keep me awake and drove on.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

The motion of the car coming to a halt woke me.  I knew I had to 
wake up and drag myself into my apartment, but waking up was 
harder than ever before.  I guess I'm getting too old for these 
back-to-back cases.

"Hey, Spooky!"  A rough punch to my arm broke through the final 
layer of sleep.  "Come on!"

I jerked awake and snapped my head to the left to give Scully a 
glare and was shocked to see a man drawing his fist back as if to 
strike me again.

I immediately drew my weapon and flicked off the safety.

"Don't try it if you want to live to see tomorrow."  I growled.  
"Where's Scully?"

"Who?  Fer Christ's sakes, Mulder!  Who's Scully?"  The man gaped 
at me as I raised the gun to aim at his heart.

"Scully.  Short, red hair, blue eyes, beautiful.  Dana Scully."  
The look on the man's face finally registered recognition.

"You mean Dana Scully Waterston, the victim's wife?  Jesus, 
Mulder, don't you have enough women to bird dog without going 
after the good doctor's wife.  I mean, shit.  Let her bury her
husband before you put the moves on her."  He gave a lewd chuckle.  
"Course you could probably have her right after the funeral if you 
put your mind to it."  He gave me an envious glare.

"Quit thinking with your dick and let's get inside for the 
briefing.  Hustle it up, or you can explain to Patterson why we're 
late."  He shook his head and exited the car.

'What the hell is going on?'  I asked myself.  Deciding to play 
along, I got out and moved to walk with him toward the elevators.

"By the way, Mulder.  That little trick might have been okay with 
your last partner, but if you ever pull a weapon on me again, be 
prepared to use it or get the shit kicked out of you."  He glared 
at me.  "I know you've been under a lot of strain lately, with the 
divorce and all, but I don't take kindly to having my life 
threatened, especially by my own partner."

I didn't say anything, just tried to look back at him and let him 
know I heard him.  We moved towards VCS and entered the large 
meeting room across from the bullpen.

Bill Patterson('Damn, wasn't he in prison for life for the murder 
of Agent Nemhauser?') was at the head of the table, gathering 
notes.  We walked in and took seats along the far wall and waited 
with the rest of the agents.  I was surprised to see Nemhauser 
seated across from me.  

'Just what the hell is going on?' I thought.

AD Skinner walked in and shut the doors behind him, signaling the 
beginning of the meeting.

I tried to keep my face blank.  What the hell was going on?  I 
fell asleep in the car with Scully, on our way back from a case in 
Halifax, North Carolina and when I woke up, I was here.  
Everything was at once familiar and totally strange.

As the meeting proceeded, it became apparent that I was new to 
this case.  The meeting was to bring me up to speed.  I had been 
on another case and had been rushed back to Washington to be 
dumped into the middle of this pooch screw.  Scully was not my 
partner.  This guy was named Jack, Jack Willis.  Was my "new" 
partner Scully's old lover?  Where was Scully?  Was she my old 
partner or my assumed ex-wife?

I decided to listen and learn as much as possible.  As the details 
of the case were laid out, I realized something.  No matter what 
dimension or state of dementia I was in, serial killers were still 
the same fucked up bunch and the FBI was still populated with the 
same full spectrum of personnel.  Both fields had their stars and 
their screw ups.  These thoughts had sidetracked me from the 
discussion enough that I was somewhat embarrassed when I realized 
that everyone was silently staring at me.

"Are we boring you Agent Mulder?"  Patterson bit out, "Or do you 
have something to add to the summation of the profile for this 
perp?"

Before I allowed my mind to wander I had dismissed the profile 
drawn up for this perp as crap.  I  bristled at the patronizing
tone Patterson was using to speak to me, but kept my face as blank 
as possible.

"Continue, please.  I will have something for you by the time the 
rest of the team has reported."  I maintained eye contact with him 
and dared him to try to humiliate me further.

Bill Patterson blinked.  I had never seen him back down from me so 
quickly before.  He must have seen something in my eyes that kept 
the usual tirade of belittlement from spewing forth.  Years of 
working with Scully and her gentle reinforcement of my worth as a 
profiler and a human seemed to have carried forward into this 
nightmare.  Or, perhaps it was the presence of AD Skinner.

The balance of the information presented was historical, factual.  
I began to really listen as the facts were laid out and realized 
that this was a case that I had solved in my other lifetime.  I 
flipped through the huge file placed in front of me.  This was the 
Morrison case, again.

A couple years ago Scully and I had been called to work with VCS 
to solve a high profile serial killer case.  Through the forensic 
evidence that Scully had observed that had previously been ignored 
and my profile, we were able to ID the perp and were credited with 
the solve.  

Donald Morrison was an influential Wall Street investment banker 
whose life was shattered by three random acts of fate.  

His prestige and extravagant lifestyle were destroyed as a result 
of his dismissal after a hostile takeover of his employer by an 
old enemy.  His marriage was shattered by his untimely return home 
to find his new wife in the arms of a younger man.  His son by his 
first wife was killed by a drunk driver just yards from her front 
door.  These individual acts he could have survived.  But with 
their combination and timing, the finely crafted facade of sanity 
he wore was destroyed and a serial killer was born.  

He had been physically, mentally and sexually abused as a child of 
a prostitute and a pimp but had achieved a high enough level of 
success in the business world to be able to fabricate a new 
childhood for himself.  Though his reputation had allowed him to 
find a new job, he would never be rich enough to buy back the 
sanity the loss of his son and his new wife destroyed.

He had bided his time and just before starting his new job had 
cunningly convinced his wife to go on a second honeymoon.  He had 
taken her to the wilds of Maine instead of to their usual retreat 
in the Poconos.  He later burned the shack in Maine after he had 
repeatedly raped and beaten his wife to death then continued to 
abuse her dead body.  His slide into the insane was complete when 
he discovered how much he enjoyed having sex with her corpse.  

He had returned alone from the cabin, and filed a missing persons 
report claiming his wife had never arrived.  He played the part of 
the grieving husband well.  He did nothing to undermine his public 
image.

His huge disposable income was utilized from that moment forward 
to support his new favorite hobby.  He had purchased several empty 
warehouses and had hidden rooms installed in each.  He began 
slowly with prostitutes and homeless women, but the kill never 
gave him the thrill with these women who had so little to lose in 
his opinion.  The connection between his wife's disappearance and 
the increase of missing women from the streets was not made.  It 
was a practice killing field that sharpened and honed his hunting 
instincts.

The first trophy wife killing was almost by accident.  The man had 
apparently crossed him in business before, but the public 
announcement of his marriage to the woman Morrison had deemed 
acceptable as wife number three was the deciding factor.  The thin 
line between sanity and the abyss was crossed yet again with the 
apparent suicide of Jim Stevens and the disappearance of his 
bride.  From that point until now, more prominent men had died, 
many seemingly in accidents and or suicides.  The so-called trophy 
wives and girlfriends began disappearing almost immediately after 
the funerals.  Eventually their bodies were discovered in shallow 
graves all along the eastern seaboard.  

I flipped through the files as various Agents reported their 
findings.  Everything was there, just as it had been before, 
except for the information Scully had documented.  Everything to 
convict Mr. Donald Morrison was in front of me waiting to be 
disclosed.  Something that Willis had said nagged at the back of 
my mind, but I set it aside.  It was show time.  Spooky Mulder was 
going to earn his reputation today.

"Well, Mulder.  Are you ready now to enlighten us with your take 
on this case?"  Patterson's sarcasm was palatable.

"I believe I can handle that Bill."  I say as I move to the front 
of the room.  I turn my back to room and begin to erase the 
whiteboard with all the documentation gathered to date except for 
the list of missing women.

I can hear a number of gasps and a furious buzz begin behind me.  
Weeks of work have been removed by my actions.  I pick up the 
nearest marker and turn to face the music.

"Both profiles developed for this case are wrong."  I stop to 
allow the uproar to settle before I continue.

"You have focused on the women as the pivotal point of the 
profile, when in fact, while they are the ultimate victims, they 
are only peripheral.  This is not a jealous ex-wife cast aside by 
a man in power taking it out on all the women who represent her 
fall from grace."  Another murmur of dissention raced around the 
table.  So much for the minority consensus of the agents.

"Nor is it, as Agent Benson proposes, a man who was powerful and 
now cannot afford his previous level of lifestyle."  Again the 
comments, this time a little louder, a little more directed at me 
personally.

"If you study all the evidence as presented today, I believe you 
will agree with me that the UNSUB is the, so-called, grieving 
spouse of our first victim, Mr. Donald Morrison."  I wrote the 
name on the board in big bold letters and threw down the marker.  
Turning to face the group, I had to work to keep the grin off my 
face.

"What the hell, Mulder?  Have you finally lost it completely?"  
Agent Benson was not pleased to have his neat little profile 
package dumped in the trash in front of the group.

Several other agents joined in the derisive comments, unchecked by 
Patterson.

"Hold it right there agents."  A loud, authoritative voice from 
the back of the room boomed.  AD Skinner rose to take control of 
the meeting.  He strode to the front of the table and after giving 
Patterson an enigmatic look spoke again.

"Mulder, you have shown us the conclusion, now show us the trail 
of breadcrumbs that allowed you to make this leap of logic."  

Skinner spoke directly to me.  I could not read any distrust or 
disbelief in his eyes, only the need for proof.

For the next two hours I led them step by step through the process 
that had taken me several weeks to sift through in my previous 
reality.  All the time I was speaking a small worm of fear seemed 
to wiggle and grow, shedding its skin to grow into a huge 
overpowering snake of fear.  Something was wrong.  I was missing 
something important.  As I finished I moved to sit back down by 
Willis.

"So let me get this straight, Mulder.  You want us to investigate 
and search all the real estate holdings of Morrison looking 
specifically for purchases of abandoned buildings and warehouses?  
What are we supposedly going to find in these buildings?"  
Patterson challenged as he took the floor again.

"It's my belief that you will find the remains of the women who 
are still missing on this list.  Morrison's need is to kill the 
husbands.  Their deaths represent the dreams of a young abused 
boy, plotting how to get even and not get caught.  Effectively 
making the kill, convincing everyone it is a natural death or 
suicide is the only way he has to silence the memories of his 
abuse.  The kidnapping, rape and torture of the spouses and 
girlfriends, while the trigger in this whole spiral, is the not 
the goal but the reward for getting away with it.  These women 
represent his mother and the anger he feels because she allowed 
his father to abuse him and is temporarily soothed by the acts of 
rape, mutilation and necrophilia he will perform on them-in place 
of her.  This outlet for his insanity actually is allowing him to 
project a sane front to the outside world."

"But the forensic evidence that he left behind in the deaths of 
the males, while not enough to identify him, did allow us to tie 
all the murders to one UNSUB.  That was his only mistake."

"Mulder, you have only been in this room for 45 minutes and you 
came to this conclusion?  What?  How..."  Patterson sputtered to a 
halt.  He took a deep breath and tried again.

"What in all this information tipped you off to Morrison's guilt?"  

I couldn't help myself.  I had to jerk his chain, even if I would 
pay for it later.

"It was obvious from the deposition of Morrison's business partner 
that Morrison had something to hide.  When I read his biography, I 
realized that his partner probably had a similar childhood, but 
was able to put it behind him.  Morrison's need to feel better 
than those around him would draw him to someone he would consider 
a kindred soul and yet someone to whom he could feel superior.  
This was confirmed by the documents that were sealed in Morrison's 
records when he entered the welfare system."

"You got all this from glancing through these files and listening 
to the other agents, Mulder?"  AD Skinner quietly asked.

His piercing gaze made me want to squirm.  I did get the answer in 
just this way, but the first time through the case it had taken 
weeks and Scully to help me pull it all together.

"Yeah, more or less," was all I could say.  I wasn't exactly lying 
to him, but I felt uncomfortable stretching the truth.  Skinner 
had put himself on the line enough times for Scully and me in the 
past.  I felt a need to be honest with him in this reality.

"If this is true then Daniel Waterston's wife, is in danger of 
being the next victim."  Patterson interjected.

"Tough luck, Spooky.  No private time for you and the delectable 
Mrs. Waterston."  Willis whispered at my elbow.

The niggle of fear that had been squirming in my mind turned into 
a nest of snakes.  Scully!  In this reality Scully was married to 
Daniel Waterston and was the next trophy wife to be kidnapped.  I 
surged to my feet.

"Sir"  I addressed AD Skinner.  "I propose that we put an 
immediate guard on Mrs. Waterston and bring in as many undercover 
agents as necessary to back up the bodyguard and trap Morrison in 
the act."

"That's a good idea, Agent Mulder.  Patterson, see to it right 
away."  Skinner nodded as he agreed with me.  Patterson scowled at 
me and curtly nodded back at Skinner.

"Sir, I want to volunteer to personally guard Mrs. Waterston."  I 
again ignored Patterson and spoke directly to Skinner.

"Mulder, that won't be necessary.  I know you just got back from 
Nebraska and need some down time before assuming another case."  
Skinner spoke.

Patterson was all over me with, "No way, Mulder.  I need you to 
get out to New Mexico to help with that abduction and murder case 
in Albuquerque."

"Sir," I again addressed my request to Skinner.  I knew I was 
pissing Patterson off royally, but I needed to get to Scully and I 
felt Skinner could make it happen.  Patterson would do everything 
he could to bury me in work again.  Use Spooky, and send him away 
from DC before he became an embarrassment.  I had lived with this 
for years before leaving VCS in my other reality.  Thanks to the 
intervening years with Scully, I was strong enough not to allow 
him to win this time.  I would protect Scully if I had to take 
personal time to do it.

"Mulder, why do you think you would be the best agent for the job 
of protecting Mrs. Waterston?"

Skinner threw me with that one.  I had a dozen answers.  She is my 
partner and I have to protect her.  I was the only one that knew 
just how headstrong and bull-headed Scully would be about being 
protected by someone else.  I was the only one that loved Scully.

All of these reasons would sound crazy, well, even crazier than 
usual, if I verbalized them.  I offered the only logical and 
compelling reason I could think of to make sure I was the agent 
assigned to protect Scully.

"I feel we need to make sure Morrison doesn't I.D. one of the 
other agents from the team of investigators and realize that he 
has been made.  I have not been in town for this investigation and 
he won't recognize me.  I could be introduced as her brother or an 
old college friend if necessary."

Skinner stared at me for so long I became uncomfortable.  He 
finally nodded his head and spoke directly to Patterson.

"Mulder's right about the need for secrecy.  Mrs. Waterston's life 
is in danger and we need to protect her while we gather the 
balance of the evidence against Morrison.

I could feel the heat of Patterson's anger directed towards me 
from the head of the table.  He didn't like it, but I had 
convinced Skinner to assign me as a bodyguard for Scully.  I 
couldn't wait to get to her side.  Every minute we stood there 
talking her life was in danger.

"Sir."  I again directed my request to Skinner.  "I think I should 
get to Mrs. Waterston's house as soon as possible.  I have a bag 
in the car already and if I arrive at her home in a taxi it will 
look as if I just arrived for the funeral."

"Good thinking, Agent Mulder."  Skinner glanced at his watch and 
continued, "Lets take a short break while Agent Mulder calls the 
taxi and we coordinate the balance of the undercover details."  
Skinner strode toward the door.  "Mulder, could I have a word," he 
said and then left the room.

I quickly moved to follow him from the room, but Patterson was 
quicker.  He moved into my path and glared at me.

"Mulder, I don't know what game you're playing, but if you dick
this up I'll have your badge.  This one is straight from the 
Director and failure is not an option.  Waterston was the cardiac 
surgeon who saved the Director's wife last year.  Screw up now 
and nothing you have done in the past or promise to do in the 
future will save you."  

The nasty smile on his face belied his words.  He wanted me to 
screw up so he could pull me out of the fire and own my soul as he 
had all the other profilers before me.  Little did he know that 
failure to save Scully's life would negate all value of my own.  
Failure was not an option I could accept.  Scully had to live.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I pulled up in front of Mulder's apartment and shut off the 
engine.  He didn't stir, in fact seemed to breath deeper and 
settle further into sleep now that the car was motionless.

"Mulder, wake up."  I repeated several times.  I touched his 
shoulder, trying to rouse him.

"Mulder, wake up!"  My voice became more insistent as my level 
of panic grew.  "Mulder, you have to wake up now.  We're back 
at your place.  Mulder, please wake up!"

I placed my hand on his forehead to test for fever and found him 
to be cool and dry.  He didn't exhibit any symptoms of illness 
except for his inability to wake up.  I ran my fingers through his 
incredible hair, checking for hidden lumps that could indicate 
head trauma.  When I didn't find any ominous or unexplained lumps, 
I slid my hand down to cup his cheek and allowed my thumb to 
softly outline his lips.  

I was shocked when his beautiful full lips parted and his tongue 
darted out to lick my thumb.  I started and tried to pull away, 
but his lips moved quickly to kiss and then suckle my thumb.  I 
was held motionless.  

He eventually moved his face to snuggle into my palm and sighed.

"Mulder, are you awake?"  I was beginning to become angry, 
thinking that he was playing a game with me.  But when he again 
did not answer me, I pried open his eyelids.  He gave no 
indication that he had felt my actions nor did his eyes look as if 
he were drugged.  He was for all purposes deeply asleep and non-
responsive.

I sat and considered my options for a moment.  If I took him to 
the hospital and they couldn't find anything wrong with him except 
exhaustion, I would feel foolish.  In fact, he had no symptoms 
except being in an extremely deep sleep.  If he were really sick 
and I didn't take him to the hospital but dumped him off here at 
home I would never be able to forgive myself.  I finally decided 
on the third option.

I was going to take him home with me.  He may in fact just be 
exhausted and would rouse by the time we get to my place.  It 
could just be his body's way of making up for all the nights of 
insomnia he experienced during the case.  If not, I could at least 
keep an eye on him until I decide whether or not he needs to be 
hospitalized.  I started the car and drove to Georgetown.

When we got to my apartment, I was lucky enough to spot a parking 
place right in front.  I turned off the car and before I could 
speak to Mulder, he was opening the door and moving towards the 
building.  The dirty dog was awake!  I scurried out of the car to 
catch up with him to give him a piece of my mind for scaring me.  
He slumped wearily against the wall while I located my door key 
and opened the security door to the entry area.  My heart melted 
at the sight of his fatigue.  I decided to go back to the car and 
get our bags, I would let him know what I thought about his little 
game later.  Besides he has a key of his own; he can use it to let 
himself in.

I was surprised to find him in exactly the same location I had 
left him.  Propped against the wall with his eyes shut, hands 
hanging loosely at his sides.

"Mulder, are you okay?"  I tried to elicit a response once again, 
but he was silent.

I thrust one of the bags over his shoulder and picked up the 
others.  I opened the inner door and walked down the hall to my 
apartment.  Mulder did not follow at first, but when I sharply 
spoke his name, he did push away from the wall and follow me 
inside.

I dropped the bags and herded Mulder towards the bathroom.  I 
grabbed a wash cloth and towel and returned to wet the cloth.  I 
turned to wipe it across Mulder's face and was shocked to see him 
standing in front of the toilet with his eyes shut, unzipping his 
pants and getting ready to urinate on the top of my toilet seat.

I quickly flipped the cover and seat up and turned away as he 
finished.  I watched in amazement as he flushed, leaned over and 
washed his hands and turned to leave, all without opening his 
eyes.

Was this some kind of sleep walking he had begun without telling 
me?

He moved back into the hall and I realized that he was walking 
automatically towards the direction his living room was from his 
bath.  If he continued he was going to run right into my hall door 
and could possibly injure himself.

I snagged his arm and turned him towards my bedroom.  He continued 
to walk forward until he was stopped by the edge of the bed, and I 
moved again to help him.  I turned him around and removed his 
jacket, his shirt and tie, and began to loosen his belt.  His 
hands brushed mine away as he unbuttoned his dress pants and 
unzipped them.  He pushed them down below his knees and sat on the 
edge of the bed.  He toed off each of his shoes and then his 
socks.  He pushed his pants down off his legs and surprised me by 
picking them up and neatly folding them on the creases.  He laid 
them at the end of the bed.  Once again he seemed to be at a 
standstill.

I pulled him to his feet and quickly flipped down the covers.  I 
sat him down on the edge of the bed and again checked his eyes.  
He was asleep.  I slid my hands down his cheeks and neck, along 
his shoulders and down his arms.  I let my fingers caress his 
hands and quickly pushed the nail of each of my thumbs into the 
nail bed of his forefingers.  He made no response to the pain this 
action should elicit.  

I gently pushed him to lie down on the bed and covered him with 
the sheet.  My own yawn surprised me and I realized how tired I 
actually was.

I decided to unpack in the morning.  I wasn't too tired to take a 
shower though, and after locking my bedroom door to make sure 
Mulder didn't begin sleepwalking while I was busy, I gathered 
fresh pajamas and went to the bathroom to shower.  I left the door 
open slightly.  If Mulder was on the move again I wanted to be 
able to hear him.

I finished my nightly routine, heartily glad to be back home in my 
nice clean bathroom.  I did not dry my hair but combed it out as I 
sat on the end of the bed watching Mulder.

It didn't appear that he had made a move since I left him.  I 
unlocked the bedroom door but left it shut and moved back to the 
bed.  I wasn't going to sleep on the couch tonight.  Mulder or no 
Mulder, I wanted to sleep in my own bed.  His being here in his 
condition would at least allow me to rest easier.

I crawled under the covers on my usual side of the bed and 
snuggled down.  I felt incredibly at peace and that somewhat 
worried me.  I shouldn't feel like this.  My partner was... was 
what?  Sick?  Asleep?  Drugged?  I don't know, but he was also 
next to me in bed and it felt more right than it should.  My busy 
mind slowly ground to a halt as sleep overtook me.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

I turned and left the room.  Had Patterson always been such an 
asshole?  I was surprised to see AD Skinner still waiting for me 
in the hall.

"That word, Mulder."  He strode a few steps up the hall away from 
the door of the conference room.

"Yes, sir?"  I felt I owed him a great debt for helping me get to 
Scully, but I was impatient to be on my way.

"Mulder, I was impressed with your performance in there.  I just 
have two questions.  Did someone feed you information on this 
investigation all along?"

"No, today is the first time Patterson gave me access to this 
data."  That was not a lie.  All the information on this case was 
prepared by the same Agents in my real life but had been given to 
me by SAC Fuller.

Skinner stared at me for a long moment, then he sighed.  He 
removed his glasses and swiped his eyes with his free hand.

"Mulder, I have been repeatedly warned about you, yet I am 
allowing you to go to protect our latest victim's wife and 
possibly the next woman to be kidnapped."

"Exactly what kind of warnings have you received about me, Sir?"  
I needed to know as much about this time line as possible to 
survive-to get back to my own life.

Skinner hesitated as if he found the words he needed distasteful.  
"Mulder, word is that you are an inveterate womanizer.  You 
haven't had a significant relationship for years  and you have on 
several occasions had liaisons with witnesses, fellow agents, and 
even victims."

"But, Sir, what about the divorce?"  I said with enough sarcasm to 
hide my ignorance.

"You sister's divorce and custody battle has been traumatic for 
you both, not to mention the children.  I realize that your 
cavalier attitude is probably a way to hurt the ones you see as 
having hurt your sister and her kids, but I want you to 
understand.  There is no room on this case for a Don Juan.  Dr. 
Dana Waterston is a fine physician in her own right and does not 
need the added burden of fending off the unwanted advances of her 
bodyguard."  His stare bore into my eyes.

"Can you comport yourself professionally, Agent Mulder?"

"This would be question number two, I take it."  I said with as 
much sarcasm as I could muster.  At his nod, I answered.

"I give you my word of honor that I will endeavor to protect Dr. 
Waterston from my evil self as well as from all outside danger.  I 
read her bio in the file.  I know that she is a respected doctor 
and has been a Godsend to all the children's charities of this 
city.  I do not think of her as a conquest, but as a woman to be 
honored and protected."  I sighed knowing I could never tell this 
man in this reality the depth of my feeling for Scully.

"I will treat her with all the respect and professionalism I would 
exhibit if she were my sister.  I can do no less and I can promise 
you no more."

Skinner glared at me for a long moment, staring so deeply into my 
eyes that it felt as if he could read my soul.

He nodded.  "You better get over there, Agent.  Dr. Waterston 
needs protection."

Jack Willis walked through the doorway as I turned to leave. 

"Mulder!"  He jangled the keys to the trunk in his hand.  "I'll 
walk down with you to get your bags."

I nodded and moved to punch the elevator call button.

"Thanks."  I said simply.

"Hey, no problem.  Nice work in there, partner."  He grinned and 
continued, "Sometimes it's worth being partnered to the 
'Spookiest' agent in the Bureau.  Especially when he comes off 
smelling like a rose."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"Dana!"

I immediately woke to the sound of my mother's shocked voice.

"What?"  I said, but even as I spoke I realized why she sounded so 
surprised.

Mulder was wrapped around me like a lover.  His leg was flung over 
my legs and the arm that wasn't under my head being used as a 
pillow was across my chest, hand firmly planted on my breast.

"Umm, Mom, this isn't what you think it is."  I was on the 
downhill slide to forty and still able to blush like crazy when my 
mother caught me in a compromising position.

"Mulder, wake up!  Get off me, Mulder!"  I realized that there was 
no response coming so I tried to slide out from his arms.  He 
didn't wake up, but he did hold me tighter, his hand beginning to 
knead my already puckered nipple.  He began to lick and place 
small kisses along my neck.  His nose was buried in my hair and he 
inhaled so deeply and sighed in contentment so loudly, my mother 
could hear it from the doorway--I could tell by her smile. 

"Mulder, I need to go to the bathroom."  I whispered in 
mortification.  "Let me go, please."

His response was a sad sigh and I was able to slide out of his 
arms.  Mulder thrust the covers from him and flopped over to his 
other side.

I grabbed my robe and my mother's arm and drug her away from the 
sight of a nearly naked Mulder sprawled out on my bed.

"Mother, do you mind?"  I said as I closed the door to the 
bedroom.

"Of course not dear."  She said with a secretive smile.  "I don't 
mind at all."

"Mother!"  I said shocked by her teasing.

"What?  I may be your mother and I may be a bit old, but I will 
never be too old to enjoy the beauty of a male body, and my, my!  
Our Fox is certainly a beaute!"  She broke out laughing at my 
shocked expression.  "Why don't you freshen up while I make some 
coffee for us both, dear.  It doesn't look like we'll be going out 
to breakfast after all."

I rushed to get dressed, still mortified by what my mother had 
seen.  As I dressed I realized that all she could have seen was 
Mulder's hand on my breast.  It wasn't even under my pajama top.  
And when he had rolled over and the sheets exposed him, he still 
had his boxers on.  Why was I so upset?

"Dana?  Do you want me to make eggs for Fox too?"  Mom was 
standing in the kitchen, breakfast almost ready by the time I was 
done.

"No, Mom, something's wrong with Mulder.  I can't get him to wake 
up.  I was hoping it was just exhaustion and debilitation from the 
last few back to back cases, but I may have to call the EMT's and 
take him to the hospital.  He won't wake up, even now."

"Well, dear, he seemed to respond to outside stimulation just fine 
a few minutes ago."  

I looked at her sharply to see if she was teasing me or not.  
While I could see humor in her eyes, there was mostly concern for 
Mulder.

"You're right, Mom.  It's not like he's unconscious.  It appears 
that he is just sleeping very deeply.  I would really like to take 
a blood sample and make sure there he hasn't been poisoned or 
drugged."

"Couldn't you take one here and have one of your friends from work 
check it out?"  

"No, I wouldn't want anyone from work involved.  I could take a 
sample and have one of the Gunmen have it checked out, though.  
That's a good idea, Mom.  I'll call right away.  This early, 
they'll probably want breakfast, though."


"That's fine, Dana.  I'll get some pancakes whipped up and by the 
time they're here everything will be ready."

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

I was surprised to see that Dr. Daniel and Dana Waterston lived in 
Georgetown, not far from Scully's apartment.  Not far 
geographically, but a world away as far as finances goes.  It was 
one of the more imposing row houses in old Georgetown.  Tasteful, 
yet very old money.  For a moment I considered that Scully may not 
want to meet me in this time.  Maybe she had been happy with 
Daniel Waterston and would find my presence an imposition.  Just 
because I knew she was my other half did not mean it would be true 
for her.

I hesitate for only a moment as the taxi pulled away from the 
curb.  I could almost hear her admonishing me to put the taxi 
receipt away carefully.  I would need it later for the expense 
report.

I picked up my bags and walked up the steps.  There was an 
uncomfortable moment or two as I waited for an answer to my knock.  
Was I too late?  Had Morrison already gotten to her?  I was 
contemplating picking the lock to have a look-see when she finally 
answered the door.

Even worn down by grief she was beautiful.  Her hair was longer 
that I had ever seen it and curly.  It was pulled gently back into 
a braid that fell back over her shoulder and caressed her left 
breast.  She wore no makeup and was dressed in an oversized 
University of Maryland Alumni sweatshirt and white leggings.  She 
was barefoot and her toes were painted a hot pink color that made 
my mouth water.  She had a crumpled wad of tissues in her left 
hand and fresh tear stains on her cheeks.

As I stood there at the door staring at her I could feel her mood 
change from one of inquiry to impatience.  Still Scully, never 
willing to put up with fools.

"Yes?"  From her tone I could tell that I had missed her first 
question.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Waterston, I didn't expect you to answer the door 
yourself.  I'm Agent Mulder from the FBI.  I believe you have been 
appraised of my assignment here?"

She glanced down at my bags and nodded.  "I am to treat you as if 
you were my long lost cousin, here for the funeral."  

"Yes, we cannot be too careful.  I am one of the few agents 
working on the task force trying to catch your husband's killer 
that hasn't been seen before today.  I need you to act as if I am 
a relative."  With that I opened my arms as if to hug her and 
after she stared into my eyes for a moment she stepped forward and 
into my arms.

I don't know if she felt it, but a current of electricity shot 
through me.  It felt so right!  This is where I belonged!  Scully 
was my connection to the real world and I never wanted to let her 
go.

I was surprised to feel her arms tighten around me.  I 
instinctively raised my hand to her hair and tried to soothe her.  
She sank into my embrace and before either of us knew what was 
happening she began to sob again.  I couldn't move.  We were 
standing in her front doorway.  We were essentially two strangers 
that just met, yet she had given me her tears.  I have never loved 
her more.

"Sc... Mrs. Waterston, we should move inside and shut the door."  
After a few minutes, I gently pried her from my chest.  I held on 
to her with one hand and picked up my bag with the other.  

"Oh, I'm sorry Agent Mulder!  I didn't mean to embarrass you."  
She sniffled into the wad of tissues and moved away from me.

I had to bite my lip to keep from groaning in loss.  How was I 
going to be able to keep my distance and protect her when I 
couldn't keep my hands off her?

She turned back to me and I could see a soft pink glow on her 
cheeks.  She was blushing!

"I don't usually throw myself at every strange man that comes to 
my door, Agent Mulder.  You just caught me at a bad time."

"I was sorry to hear about your loss, Mrs. Waterston."  I could 
say no more.  I didn't want another man to have her, but I didn't 
want her to grieve.  "It's always difficult to lose the one you 
love."

"Thank you, Agent Mulder."  She still looked somewhat chagrined.  
"Let's get you settled."  She turned to climb the stairs.  "I did 
not put you in the guest room, it's downstairs.  I have taken the 
liberty of putting you in the room next to mine.  It was 
originally meant to be a nursery so it has an adjoining door.  I 
felt you would probably want to have that access for surveillance 
purposes."

As she climbed the stair I could do nothing but pick up my bag and 
follow.  The view of her slim, muscular legs climbing the steps 
and an occasional peak of her sweet, sexy rear even encased in 
leggings kept me quiet.

I wasn't going to survive this.  Seeing her in this alternate life 
but not being able to touch her or to have a history with her was 
killing me.  It suddenly occurred to me that I may have died and I 
was in hell.  After all, what would be the worst punishment I 
could imagine?  The only answer I could believe was right in front 
of me.  Being in love with Scully, seeing her, watching her in a 
different life and having no chance of ever being part of her 
life.

Yep, this could possibly be hell.

"We share a bathroom, but you may want to use the bathroom in the 
master suite.  I'll let you get settled, Agent Mulder."  She 
seemed to contemplate me for a moment.  "You have a question?"

She could still read me so well.  "I was just wondering why you 
aren't in the master suite."  As her demeanor turned cool I 
realized I had stepped over the line of propriety.

"I have always preferred the morning sun, Agent Mulder," was her 
cool reply.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Waterston.  It's a bad habit.  I'm too curious for 
my own good sometimes.  But it's what makes me a good profiler."  
I gave her my best little boy in trouble grin.

She nodded her forgiveness.  "Are you hungry?"  She said and as if 
on cue my stomach rumbled.

Her answering smile was sweet, but still sad.

"Come on down when you get unpacked.  I'll prepare you something 
to eat."  

"I could use something, but will you join me?  I hate to eat 
alone."  I was sure she probably hadn't eaten in at least two 
days.

"Very well, Agent Mulder," was all she said.

I quickly unpacked my bags, making a mental list of all that I 
would need to pick up from my apartment to supplement my wardrobe.  
I showered and put on jeans and a black turtleneck.  I slipped on 
my running shoes and went down to see what was cooking.

I made my way back to the kitchen and stood watching her at work.  
She seemed to feel me enter the room because she nodded towards 
the counter and said, "There are cups in the dishwasher; coffee's 
ready."

I moved to pour a cup of coffee and watched her complete my 
omelet.

"I don't have much around here that is easily fixed.  Maria is the 
cook and she will be back tomorrow.  It looks like she will need 
to stock up.  I thought omelets would be something filling, but it 
seems I went a little crazy."

The counter was spread with bacon, fried potatoes and several 
types of jams and jellies for the toast and biscuits she had 
prepared.

"Wow!  This looks great!" I said as I accepted the plate with a 
huge omelet.  "You are eating with me?"

"Sure, pick a place at the table and I will be right there as soon 
as I finish my eggs."  

I was on my third cup of coffee by the time I was finished eating.  
She had not eaten a lot, but at least it was enough to keep her 
going.

"It's good to see a man eat with so much pleasure."  She smiled at 
me over her cup.

"Didn't you husband like your cooking?"  I teased.

"My husband didn't like a lot of things about me."  She said 
coolly as she rose to clear the table.  Again I had overstepped my 
boundaries with this Dana Scully.  I began to help her but she 
stopped me.  

"Please go on out to the living room, Agent Mulder.  I'm just 
going to tidy up for right now.  Maria can take care of this mess 
tomorrow.  There are a few things we need to discuss before you 
let me know what you have planned."

I sipped my coffee as I wandered around the living room.  There 
was a beautiful fireplace near the couch and I called out to ask 
if I could start a fire for her.  With her permission, I started a 
cheery fire and sat down on the couch to wait.

"I love a fire in the fall," she smiled as she settled down on the 
other end of the couch.

"Yeah, it makes me think of closing up our summer house in Rhode 
Island.  Burning leaves and cleaning up the yard for winter.  It 
was always hard work, but we enjoyed it."  I don't know where that 
memory slipped in from.  Was it possible that the longer I was 
here the more I was becoming part of this reality?  I needed to 
find out why I was here so I could get back to my life with 
Scully.

We both had grown pensive, staring into the fire quietly.

"Agent Mulder..."

"Doctor Waterston..."

We both spoke at the same time.  I smiled and indicated that she 
should continue first.  She nodded and appeared to gather her 
thoughts again.

"Agent Mulder, I think you have been given some misleading 
information about this case."  She started and stopped, uncertain 
as to how to continue.

"Why don't you tell me why you think I am misguided, Dr. 
Waterston."

She stared at me for a moment and then nodded.  "Why don't we 
start by dropping the Dr. Waterston.  I have always thought of 
that as my husband's name.  Please call me Dana, or Dr. Scully.  I 
kept my maiden name when I married Daniel.  I did not want to be 
constantly confused with him professionally."

"All right, Dana, please call me Mulder."  I couldn't call her 
Scully.  She was so much like my Scully, but she had a decade of 
different memories and none of them included me until now.  

"Mulder?  Don't you have a first name?"

"I do," I teased.  "But if I tell it to you then I'll have to kill 
you and the whole reason for me being here would be moot!"

She gave me one of her small, warm smiles and continued.  "It's 
your contention that your serial killer murdered my husband.  
Thus, you are here under the impression that I will be the next 
victim of the so called Trophy Wife Killer, are you not?"

I nodded to let her know she was right and to continue.

"Well, I don't fit the profile.  I won't be the next victim."  

"Why do you think that, Dana?"  I was curious as to her reasoning.

"Daniel and I were separated.  We have not been living as husband 
and wife for several months.  He has another apartment in 
Baltimore.  With his new trophy."

"Is this public knowledge?"  I am suddenly unsure if she is the 
next target.  Why didn't anyone on the team know this?  "I mean,
have they been seen in public together recently?"

"Why yes, he took her to the Black Tie Ball-a fund raiser at the 
hospital last week.  It was in all the papers.  It created quite a 
problem for me.  I had to tell my family why my 'husband' was 
dating another woman."

"You weren't going to divorce him?"  I asked gently.

"Maybe.  Probably.  Eventually.  I don't know.  Mulder, I was 
raised as a Catholic and I had never given divorce a serious 
thought until Daniel moved out.  It was just easier to wait and 
see if this one was the last one."

"There had been others?"  It was out before I could stop myself.

The deep sigh she gave told me more than she would ever know.  I 
knew about her relationship with the married Dr. Daniel Waterston 
in my timeline and I was guessing that it was true here too.

"Before me or after?"  was her rueful response.  She moved to the 
fire place and held out her hands towards the fire.

"Your family wasn't aware you were having differences?"

"I haven't been close to my family since I married Daniel.  My 
parents did not approve of our relationship."

"Did they object because of the age difference?"  I wanted to keep 
her talking as long as possible.

She turned and looked at me for a long moment.

"You are a curious man, Agent Mulder."  She seemed to contemplate 
her answer for a long moment.  "Daniel was married when we first 
became involved.  I didn't know about his wife and daughter at 
first.  I broke it off when I found out and moved to Washington, 
but Daniel pursued me.  He divorced his wife and asked me to marry 
him.  I was young enough and impressionable  enough to believe 
that he truly loved me."

"But your family?"

"My father and mother are very religious, Mulder.  Daniel and I 
could not marry in the church-an unacceptable situation according 
to them.  I was blinded by what I thought of as true love and 
refused to listen to them.  They had no choice but to refuse to 
acknowledge our marriage."

"They disowned you?"  Even though I had never met William Scully, 
this didn't sound like the Maggie Scully I knew.

"No.  But they refused to acknowledge Daniel as my husband and 
I... I chose to honor my marriage rather than my parents."

There was so much pain and regret in her voice it hurt my heart to 
listen to her.

"Surely, after several years they would have come around."  I 
can't believe anyone would hurt her like this, especially her 
parents.

"They may have, but unfortunately my father died shortly after our 
marriage and my mother has been unable to get over the fact that 
my marriage added to the stress that led to his heart attack.  We 
speak occasionally, but we have never regained the closeness we 
once had."

"What about your brothers and sister?"

Once again that cool appraising stare was turned on me.

"Was I part of the profile too, Agent Mulder?"

"No, I just assumed you would have brothers and sisters, coming 
from a Catholic family.  I apologize if I was presumptuous, Dana."  
I wasn't sure if she had picked up on the revised 'sisters' 
comment.  I didn't want to upset her with my knowledge of her 
family from my reality.

"Of course," she nodded as she spoke.  "My only sister had a 
falling out with my parents at a young age and after years of 
estrangement, died in Waco with the Branch Davidians.  It almost 
killed my mother and father.  I don't think they would have made 
as strong a stand about my marriage if Melissa's death had not 
been so devastating."

"My brother Bill is very much like my father and washed his hands 
of me when I didn't snap to and obey.  My brother Charlie was 
disappointed in me but supportive.  Unfortunately, he is stationed 
in Europe and I don't get to see him often."

I was shocked.  Melissa died violently in this reality, too!  And 
the stubborn streak I knew Scully tried to hide with rationality 
was evident in the family dynamic she described.  I decided a 
change of subject was in order.

"Dana, do you know this other woman's name?  Do you have any 
information about her?  I need to update the task force and 
provide coverage for her."

She signed and bowed her head.  A blush flushed her cheeks.  She 
retrieved a something from the desk behind the couch and moved 
back to sit next to me.

She was holding a file in her hands.  I could tell she wanted to 
explain before handing it over to me.

"Mulder, I had a private detective gather this information when I 
first suspected Daniel was serious about this woman.  This file 
contains her name and address and probably more information than 
you need.  I won't need it now."  Tears welled in her eyes again.

"Dana, thank you.  I'll return this file as quickly as possible.  
Do you mind if I use your phone?"

"Of course, help yourself.  I think I should try to get some 
sleep.  I'll see you in the morning."  She banked the fire and 
closed the glass doors.  Her smile was sad as she nodded goodnight 
to me.

I closed my eyes and fought the urge to follow her, grab her, and 
hold her until the pain was just a memory.  Only Dana Scully, and 
maybe Samantha, could stir this protective feeling in me.

I quickly found the information I needed in the file and called 
the number for the task force headquarters.  I was put on hold 
while they tried to find Patterson.

I heard my cell phone ringing upstairs and called to Dana to 
answer it.  It could be someone from headquarters trying to get in 
touch with me.  I could hear Dana's footsteps above me as she 
walked into my room and answered my phone.

"Hello?" she seemed unsure how to answer it.  "Fox?  Oh, you mean 
Agent Mulder.  Just a moment, he's on the other phone.  No, no 
problem."  She moved to the stairs and called softly to me.

"Are you still on the other phone?" 

"Yeah, but I'm on hold right now.  Who is it?"

"It's someone for 'Fox'."  There was a hint of mirth in her voice.

"Would you mind bringing it to me?"  I sighed.  I have always 
hated my name and in truth, only let a few women get away with 
using it.  I had no idea who this one would be, but I didn't have 
a good feeling about any call I got on my business phone.

I stood looking out the window as I heard her pad barefoot across 
the floor.  She snaked her arm around in front of me and handed me 
the phone.  I automatically thanked her, lowering my head, waiting 
for the remarks to begin.

I could see her bare feet, ankles and calves behind me.  I turned 
to face the music and stood speechless.

She was wearing a satin nightgown that could double as a slip.  It 
was a rich deep blue that made her eyes sparkle.  It had thin 
spaghetti straps that lay like a caress across her lightly 
freckled shoulders.  Her hair was free from the braid and fell 
softly down her back.  The bones of her clavicle drew my eye.  I 
wanted to taste them, run my tongue across them and up her neck.  
I wanted to wrap my hand in her hair and pull her close to me so 
that I could suck on the pulse point I could see vibrating 
slightly quicker with each passing moment.  I wanted to...

As I glanced down again I could actually watch her nipples peak 
and harden.  I licked my lips and swallowed hard.  I felt weak and 
my hands fell to my sides.  Her embarrassment turned to mirth as 
she realized how affected I was by her appearance.  She was so 
beautiful that I could not speak.

I raised my hands in supplication and realized I could hear voices 
calling my name.  I drug my eyes from her and looked down at my 
hands.  Both held phones, waiting to be answered.  I still could 
not speak with her standing there.

I wanted her with all the love and lust and heat that my heart 
felt for Scully.  But she wasn't Scully.  She was Dana, and this 
was not my reality.  I gave her a look of regret and raised the 
phone with Patterson's dulcet tones bellowing from it to my ear 
and began to speak.  

Dana smiled sadly and plucked the phone from my other hand turning 
to step away and take a message.  (Please let it be my mother!) 
was my only thought.

I quickly informed Patterson of the new development in the case.  
He wanted me to abandon Dana and get over to Maryland.  I refused, 
making sure he understood Morrison's thinking on the real treasure 
could go either way.  He finally agreed and decided to dispatch 
Willis to the new address.

I hung up and turned to answer my other phone.  She was waiting on 
the stairs for me to get done.  My phone was off in her hand.  She 
smiled and I knew she was going to tease me.

"I took the liberty of taking a message for you," she said.

I nodded, still finding it difficult to speak to her.

"Your sister wanted to remind you of the Fall Outing tomorrow.  
She said you promised your nephew and niece that you would be 
there."

I groaned.  I really wanted the chance to meet my sister and her 
children, but I couldn't leave Dana.  I didn't trust anyone else 
to protect her.

"I'll have to call and tell her that I cannot make it tomorrow."  
I sighed.

"Why?" she asked immediately.

"Scul... Dana, I'm working right now.  I am here to be your 
bodyguard and after the funeral tomorrow is the prime time for 
Morrison to make his move."

"It's not until the afternoon.  You could take me to the funeral 
in the morning and leave later."

"You know that's not going to happen until we catch him, Dana.  
You've been told why I need to be here.  I can't leave you."

She thought this over for a few minutes and finally spoke.

"Why don't I come with you?"

"What?"  I gasped.

"I mean, I would be safe.  Morrison would never look for me at 
their school and I can not think of anything I would rather do 
after facing the funeral in the morning than to celebrate with a 
bunch of healthy, happy children."  She looked at me and smiled.  
"At least I would enjoy it if you wanted me to join you."

"Dana!  I would love for you to join us!"  I grinned.

"Good!  She gave me directions to the school, just in case you 
didn't remember them."

"Are you sure you won't want to spend time with friends or family 
after the service?"

"No, I really can't face anyone right now.  I need to be around 
the children."

"Some one who loves kids as much as you should have a house full, 
Dana."  I blurted out before thinking.

She turned away from me and sighed.  Her hands automatically moved 
to her abdomen; her fingers tracing a circular movement 
instinctive to all pregnant women.

"I was pregnant once.  Daniel and I had been married for two years 
and I had given up hope."  She looked directly in my eyes, drawing 
her courage around her like a queen's robes.

"What happened?"  I whispered.

"Daniel's daughter Maggie..."  Tears welled in her eyes and fell 
down her cheeks.  "Maggie blamed me for the divorce between Daniel 
and her mother.  She.  She... stalked me and attacked me at the 
mall.  We struggled and her gun went off."  Dana was shaking as 
she finished.  "She accidentally shot me in the abdomen and I fell 
over the railing."  She was shaking so hard I thought she was 
going to collapse.

I didn't think.  I moved across the space between us and swept her 
into my arms.  I strode back to the couch and settled down with 
her on my lap.

"Shhhhh.  I'm sorry.  It was none of my business. I'm sorry I 
brought such a painful memory up.  Don't, please."  I rocked her 
back and forth, crooning softly to her.  Sobs racked her small 
body and she clung to me for support.

"You've been so brave, Dana.  Go ahead and cry.  You have every 
right to cry."  I slowly stroked her, everywhere I could reach, 
but I was careful to keep it to a brotherly embrace.

"I wanted the baby so much, Mulder.  It was a little girl.  I was 
almost eight months along.  The bullet killed her and... and tore 
through me, ripping away any chance I had for having more 
children."  She couldn't seem to stop talking about it.  "I wanted 
to die when I woke up.  Everything was horrible."  

"Was Daniel there for you then?"  I had to know that someone had 
been there to hold her and comfort her.

"No.  Daniel took the entire incident as a personal outrage, an 
affront to his reputation.  Somehow, it all became my fault.  He 
claimed that I was lying, hallucinating-it must have been a 
demented stranger that shot me.  He denied that his daughter could 
have done something so crass and violent.  He denied it until the 
day they found her body.  She had taken an overdose of heroin."  

She sniffed to try to stop the tears.  "She left a note.  She 
hadn't meant to shoot me.  She just wanted to scare me and 
embarrass me as a payback for all the pain she felt was my fault."

Only Dana Scully could be compassionate enough to understand the 
pain of someone who had taken so much from her.

"She must have been very ill to even confront you with a gun, 
Dana.  The signs must have been there for a long time and Daniel 
and her mother ignored them."

"She was in such pain, Mulder.  I was sorry she killed herself, 
but I was glad her pain ended."

"How about your pain, Dana?"

She was silent for a long moment before replying.  "I don't think 
my pain will ever end.  I will love my little Emily for the rest 
of my life."

Oh God!  She named this daughter Emily!  And just like in my 
reality, she died a horrible death.

We sat in silence for a long time.  Her small hiccups and sniffles 
gradually ended.  I could feel her relaxing in my arms.  I leaned 
back and snuck a peek at her face.  She was asleep.

I sat and held her as the fire died, leaving only the glowing 
embers.

I finally rose and carried her up the stairs to her room.  I laid 
her in bed and covered her up.  Unwilling to be separated by a 
door from her, I quickly moved to my room and changed into some 
sweats and a tee shirt.  I decided to shower in the morning but 
brushed my teeth and flossed.  Yeah, so sue me.  It's a habit I 
learned young and I don't feel human if I don't floss just
before sleeping.

I ran back downstairs and made sure the doors and windows were 
locked.  I checked the alarm system and set it for the night-
luckily we had discussed it earlier.  I turned off all the lights 
as I moved through the house.

I stood by her bed and watched her sleep.  Her breath would 
occasionally hitch as if she were dreaming of crying.  I wanted to 
crawl in bed with her and hold her, making all the nightmare go 
away.  But I know that I am not "her" Mulder in this reality.  
Maybe we are meant to develop a relationship over a period of 
time, but right now I was a virtual stranger to her.

I moved to the chaise lounge in the corner of her room and spread 
out, trying to get as comfortable as possible.  I pulled out my 
gun and tucked it into the waistband of my sweats.  The 
possibility of Morrison attacking tonight was small, but I want to 
be prepared.

I switched on the reading lamp and picked up an interesting 
looking book.  I was actually engrossed in the story, when I heard 
her stir.

"Mulder?  What are you doing?  Why aren't you in bed?"

"I wanted to make sure you were safe tonight."

"You should sleep, Mulder.  I'll be all right.  Your room is close 
enough you can hear anything that happens.  You can even leave the 
door open."  Her concern for me was evident in her voice.

"I'm actually fine right here.  I rarely sleep more than 4 hours 
at a time."  I smiled.  "Go back to sleep Dana.  You'll need it to 
face tomorrow."

"Well, if you're sure?"  I could tell she wanted to believe me.

"I am fine.  Can I get you anything?  A drink of water?"

For a moment she silently stared at me.  I could see a sheen of 
tears in her eyes.  She finally smiled and shook her head.

"Goodnight Agent Mulder."  She said and continued to smile.

"What?"  Her teasing smile made me squirm.  "Why are you grinning 
at me like that?"

"Samantha warned me about you, you know."

"Samantha?"  My breath left me.  Samantha had talked to Dana about 
me in the short minutes they were on the phone?

"She told me you were very protective and I should just give in 
and let you have your way."

"Samantha said that?"  I felt poleaxed.

"She said," she hesitated as if trying to remember the exact 
words.  "She said I should let you have your way because you 
always knew what was best.  She said it was spooky sometimes how 
you knew what to do to make everything okay."

Now I was the one with the tears threatening.

"Well, you should listen to her and go back to sleep."  It was all 
I could say that wouldn't betray my emotions.

She settled down and soon her breathing was slow and even again.  
I turned off the light and set aside the book.  This entire 
experience was weird.  I fought sleep, somehow realizing that if I 
did sleep, I might not wake up in this reality.  I wanted to see 
Samantha and my niece and nephew.  I realized I didn't even know 
their names.  She had obviously not been kidnapped in this life, 
but had nonetheless suffered.  I was still Spooky Mulder, the 
poster child for dysfunctional adult living.  And Scully, my 
beautiful Scully was plagued by pain and sorrow here that 
paralleled our lives.

She had gone for normal and still alienated her parents, still 
lost her sister and the loving support of her brothers.  Her only
child was killed in a freak incident and she was left barren and 
alone.  

I had nothing to do with the pain of this parallel universe, I 
realized.  If things followed suit, in this reality I would 
probably be a source of love and strength for her.  I could be the 
love of her life and we could live happily ever after-barring 
alien invasion.

Perhaps what I was experiencing was a glimpse of fate or destiny 
or just karma.  The only fact that I knew for sure was that I 
wanted to be in Dana Scully's life.  Her strength, her 
intelligence, her integrity and her beauty, her purity of soul and 
compassion combined to make her the only woman I wanted to spend 
my life with.  I could only pray that she saw something in me that 
drew her to my side.

I wasn't to blame for the things that happened to her here and I 
wasn't to blame for the things that happened to her in our 
universe.  I finally accepted that fact in my heart.  But as 
powerfully as I realized that I was blameless I also accepted that 
my desire to protect her could never be achieved by my absence in 
her life. 

Our lives were interwoven by fate.  I wondered how many other 
dimensions or universes or realities there were that held a 
version of Mulder and Scully in them.  When and if I got back to 
Scully, I was going to make sure we talked about... everything. 

I would tell her why I wanted to protect her.  I would share my 
guilt and pain with her.  I would tell her how I admire her and 
respect her and how much I love her.  Yes, I would actually say 
that four letter word to her.  Love.  I love Dana Scully.  I shook 
my head in amazement.  The first chance I got-no I was going to 
make a chance for us.  I am going to take her hand and look into 
her eyes and say  "Scully, we've got to talk!"

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

As soon as my conversation with the boys was complete Mom urged me 
to eat my breakfast.

"You know you won't have time later, Dana.  You need your strength 
to help Mulder."

Damn!  The only thing she could say that actually worked.  I 
needed to be strong to help Mulder.  I know Mulder is the most 
important person in my world.  Oh, sure, I love my Mother and the 
rest of my extended family, but the love I feel for Mulder is 
more.  More than anything I have ever felt before.  I admire him 
as I have admired few others.  His brilliant mind and ability to 
make leaps of logic others need days to achieve, his sensitivity, 
his humanity, and his sense of humor all mesmerize me.  His 
gorgeous body hasn't hurt either, if I am truthful.

I respect him, I admire him, I desire him-I love him.  He has to 
wake up!

The longer this continues the more concerned I became.  Did I make
the right decision?  Should I have taken him directly to the 
hospital last night?  Should I call 911 right now?  This was so 
unlike me.  I began to reach for the phone, but was yet again torn 
by conflicting thoughts.

The phone rang and I automatically answered it.

"Scully."

"Agent Scully.  It's Byers.  We're behind your building.  Can you 
come down and open the back door?"

"What are you doing in back?"  I foolishly ask.

"Agent Scully!  You never know who is watching.  Don't say anymore 
until we get up there and see if you need an exterminator."  Byers 
voice was so earnest.

I sighed.  I ought to have known, Paranoia R Us should be the name 
of their group.

"Mom, I'm going to take the trash out.  I'll be right back."  I 
decided to make the trek out back worth my effort.

They next fifteen minutes was like a scene from Mission 
Impossible-or should I call it Mission Improbable.  The Gunmen 
carried enough electronic equipment to stock a Radio Shack into my 
apartment and proceeded to scan, sweep, prod and dismantle every 
conceivable hiding place searching for "bugs".

Only the fact that they actually found three kept the entire 
scenario from being laughable.  I wasn't really surprised.  Mulder 
and I had been careful about discussing anything important at 
either of our homes or the office.  If we had anything vital to 
discuss we usually tried to meet in a public place with enough 
background noise to cloak our discussion.

My mother on the other hand actually became faint.  It brought 
home to her in a very uncomfortable way how involved I was in the 
entire web of conspiracy that was Mulder's life.  I would have 
given anything to allow her to remain in the dark. Too late now.

"All right, Agent Scully."  Langly said as he turned on the radio.  
"That should take care of most of it.  I'll bring the rest of the 
equipment over tomorrow and make sure we didn't miss anything on 
the outside of the building."

"Thanks guys," was all I could say as we finished.

"No problem Dana."  Frohike said immediately.  "Now, what's up 
with the Big Guy?"

"What are the symptoms and what do you think is causing this?"  
Byers asked.

"I don't know.  I can't wake him up.  We had a bad case last week 
and Mulder lost a lot of sleep, but that doesn't explain his 
condition.  I'm not sure, but I want to do a blood test on him.  I 
think it might be an after effect of the fungi from Asheville.  He 
may still have traces of the hallucinogen in his blood stream and 
coupled with his exhaustion it could be causing this reaction."

"Do you have what you need to draw his blood or do you need the 
kit I brought?"  Frohike asked.

"I've already got mine ready, thanks.  Let's get this over with."

We went back to the bedroom and I was distinctly uncomfortable.  
All four of them followed me.  I was slightly embarrassed to have 
four witnesses to Mulder being in my bed.  My blush reached new 
heights when Mulder pulled my pillow even closer to him and buried 
his nose in it, inhaling deeply.

"Mmmmm.  Scully."  he murmured.

The guys jumped back as if he was going to wake up and shoot them 
for invading his privacy.  I tried to stifle a smile as my 
mother's gentle laugh echoed in the room.

"He won't hurt you boys.  He really is not aware of what's 
happening around him.  If he were, I'm sure he would have reacted 
to my entrance this morning."

Three sets of eyes darted to my mother's face.  Three jaws dropped 
open and I could see three brains contemplating the scenario from 
earlier this morning.   All three sets of eyes settled back on me.  
Each one of them obviously sure their own speculation on what 
happened was correct.

I decided that this had gone far enough.  Moving to the bed, I 
spoke, "Mulder!  Turn over on your back."  I shoved against his 
shoulder and urged him to roll over again.  He finally complied 
and I sat on the edge of the bed to draw his blood.  Mulder began 
to mutter something quietly and I decided to try one more time to 
wake him.

"Mulder.  Wake up!"  I gently patted his cheeks.  "Come on, 
Mulder.  Wake up.  Mulder, wake up!  I need you.  Help me, 
Mulder!"

As I spoke to him he seemed to be fighting the deep sleep that 
held him.  When I told him I needed him, he began to thrash his 
head back and forth on the pillow, making a determined effort to 
wake.

"Mulder, please.  I need you to wake up.  You have to come back to 
me.  I..."  As I spoke my voice lowered to a whisper.  "I need 
you, Mulder.  Please come back to me."

I couldn't help it.  I began to cry.  What if he never woke up. 
What if the giant mushroom from Asheville had managed to destroy 
his brilliant mind and he never came back to me.

All right, so I was panicking, but having the only man I ever 
loved slip away from me was more than I could take right then.  I 
wouldn't have cared if Skinner was in the room.  I wanted Mulder 
to wake up and hold me.  Tomorrow I could be strong again, but 
right now I was just plain scared.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Sleep was claiming me.  I fought as hard as I could but I had been 
awake for almost 36 hours according to my reckoning.  I felt my 
eyes close and jerked myself awake.  

'Good one, Mulder!  Fall asleep and loose your sister and perhaps 
Dana again.'  I tried to verbally punch myself awake.

I pried my eyes open, thinking about what I would say to Scully 
when I got back.

"Scully, we have to talk."  No, not dramatic enough.

"Scully!  We have to talk!"  Better, but still not it.

I allowed myself to whisper out loud this time.  I opened my eyes 
just as I growled:  "Scully, we've got to talk!"

And there she was.  Her blue eyes were filling with tears as my 
voice died down.

"Scully!"  I gasped as she sobbed my name. 

"Mulder!"  She threw herself onto my chest and I immediately 
wrapped her in my arms.

"Oh, Scully, we really do have to talk!"  I started, but before I 
got any further, Scully was kissing me.  It was not a partnerly 
kiss either!  There was need and want and tongue involved.  Scully 
loves me back!  All resolve to verbalize my feeling flew out the 
window.  I wrapped my arms around her and moved to cover her with 
my body.

Scully's hands moved to my hair and her lips parted on a groan. 
We began to duel with our tongues, stroking and teasing and 
thrusting, all the while building desire.  We might as well have 
been in a void for all the awareness we had of our surroundings.

Our kisses continued until we both became aware of a need for 
oxygen.  We drew apart and stared into each other's eyes.

"You're back," she breathed.

"Yes," was all I could say.

"I love you Scully."

"I know Mulder.  I love you, too!"

I lowered my head to kiss her again when I heard an odd sound from 
the foot of the bed.

I looked back and startled when I realized we had an audience.  
Not in my worst nightmare have I ever dreamed that I would be in 
Scully's arms for the first time with an audience of Maggie Scully 
and the three Gunmen.  I groaned and hid my face in the pillow 
next to her head.

"Scully, am I dreaming again?  Tell me I am, because if this is 
real and I have just declared my love to you for the first time 
with an audience of your Mother and the Gunmen, you might as well 
shoot me and get it over with."

Scully's smile grew to a chuckle and then to a laugh and onwards 
to a full body giggle.  Scully giggled.  I lifted my eyes to her 
face and watched in awe as my Scully melted into a puddle before 
me.  Her mirth was catching and soon I began to laugh with her.  

"I can't shoot you Mulder!"  she managed between bouts of giggles. 
"I have big plans for you later!"

"What?  Have you called Skinner and he'll be here any minute?"  I 
hooted.  Scully began to kick her feet and hold her stomach, her 
laughter was beginning to hurt.

"Oh, stop, Mulder!  You're killing me!"  She was able to get out 
before a fresh wave of hilarity hit.

"This tops everything that's happened to us so far, Scully."  I 
laughed.  "Even the Fluke man!"

"And the stake through Ronnie's heart!"

"And buck teeth!"

"And the pigs at Home!"

"And the Jersey Devil!"

"And the Conundrum!"

"Alex Trebek!"

"Oh!  Mulder!  Even Eddie!"

We continued to laugh, rolling on the bed and kicking our feet.  I 
was looking directly at Scully when she glanced towards her mother 
and the boys.  Her eyes got even bigger and she sputtered as she 
belted out a fresh round of laughter.

I looked to see what was so funny and realized that our audience 
was in shock.

"What's the matter folks, never see anyone laugh before?"  I was 
off again.  I pulled Scully into my arms and buried my face in her 
hair as I laughed.  When I inhaled I got a blast of the sweetness 
that was Scullyscent.  My laughter bowed out as desire took over 
again.  I began to nuzzle her ear.  My mouth found the sweet spot 
on her neck and I began to kiss and lick her there.

Maggie was the first to realize that our focus was changing from 
mirth to arousal.

"I think Dana has everything under control in here now, boys.  
Let's go back to the kitchen and I'll fix you all a nice 
breakfast."

"I already ate breakfast."  Frohike had the nerve to say, not 
taking his eyes off Scully.

"I think it could be time for lunch then, Frohike."  I say with a 
growl and a glare.

"Yes, Melvin, I'll find you something for lunch."  Mrs. Scully 
gently took his arm and guided him to the door.  Ever the 
peacemaker, I'll bet it was a skill she learned early with four 
kids and a navy husband.

They all filed out of the room as Scully and I watched.  I turned 
to her and had to tease.  "One of us is inappropriately dressed."

She smiled back and said, "I'll let you get your clothes on before 
we talk, Mulder."

"Like hell, you will!"  I said as I rolled her on top of me and 
began to pluck at her clothes.

"Mulder, what are you doing?"  She tried to sound shocked, but I 
could tell she was enjoying this as much as I.

"I'm evening up the playing field here, Scully."  I said as I slid 
her sweater over her head.  Her cotton bra hid all but the soft 
curves of her inner breasts.

I lifted my head to kiss her at the very edge of the bra.  "I want 
you Scully."

She sucked her breath in deeply, bringing her sweet breasts closer 
to my lips.  When I looked up, there was a suspicious sheen to her 
eyes.  I slid her down so that I could look into her eyes 
directly.

"I want you too, Mulder."  She gave me a quick but through kiss. 
 "Weren't we going to talk?"

"Talk?  Oh, yeah!  I did mention that didn't I."  I smiled, 
returning her grin for a long moment.

"Well, Mulder, what did you have to say?"

"I already said it.  I love you."  I began to kiss her again, 
starting at the valley between her breasts and moving up to her 
neck.  I gently licked the pulse point I found at the juncture of 
her neck and her shoulder.  I wanted to bite her and suck her neck 
and mark her as mine, but I know that Scully would be as 
disapproving of that as she would of me peeing on her to mark my 
territory.  My Scully will never one to be possessed, but one to 
join in a relationship as a free and equal partner.  Our lips meet 
and an eternity passes as we kiss.

Scully broke away and began to kiss me all over my face.  She used 
her lips and teeth and tongue all over my face and moved down my 
neck.

Pure unadulterated lust shot through me as I felt her sucking on 
my neck in exactly the same place I had desired on her neck only 
moments ago.  I could feel the burn as her lips applied suction 
strong enough to mark me as hers.

"Scully!"  I growled.  "What are you doing?"

"Marking you as mine, Mulder," was her simple explanation.

"Oh," was all I could get out before a groan of pleasure wiped out 
anything else I was going to say.

"You are mine now, aren't you Mulder?"

Did she have to ask?  "Oh, yeah!"  I said.

"Good, now tell me what you wanted to talk about or we'll have to 
join my mother and the boys in the other room."  She rose above 
me, taking away the heat of her sweet little body.

"I... umm..."  I couldn't take my eyes off her breasts again.

"Do you want these, Mulder?"  She cupped her breasts in her hands.  
Even with the plain cotton bra still on, it was one of the most 
erotic things I have ever seen.

"Scully, I..."  I tried to wrapped my arms around her and flicked 
open the bra clasp.  "I need you, Scully."

She gave me the "Hold it right there, Mulder" look.  "I love you 
and need you too, Mulder, but I can't do this with other people in 
my kitchen.  First we talk, then we get rid of them and then we 
continue with this part of the conversation.

"Now, what did you want to tell me so badly that it would bring 
you back from unconsciousness?"  She leaned down to kiss my nose, 
rubbing her gorgeous body against mine again.

"Scully, I can't think when you do that."  I said as I began to 
kiss her neck again.  She moaned and moved her head so that I have 
better access to her.

"Mulder," she groaned.  "Please."

For a moment I thought she wanted me to make love to her right 
then, but I slowly realize that this is SCULLY.  She needs to get 
rid of the guys and her mom before she will be comfortable making 
love with me.

I sigh and kiss her swollen lips once again before sliding her 
over so I can sit up.

"Okay, Scully.  First we talk."  And we did.  

I explained how I was feeling extremely guilty about the pain she 
was experiencing during the Halifax case.  I told her all about
the four letter words that defined my thoughts.  Words like, pain 
and hurt and how torn she was by the deaths of the children.  How 
I felt so damn selfish and guilty about the need and want I felt 
for her.  How I wanted to take back all the pain and hurt, even if 
it meant that she was no longer in my life.

I could see by the stubborn set of her jaw that I was in for a 
good tongue lashing, so I hurried to finish what I had to say.  I 
told her about my dream and how it made me realize that not 
everything was about me.

"Scully, even though I had not been in your life up until today in 
that other reality, you had suffered great loss and pain.  I guess 
I realized all that matters is that we are together.  I love you.  
I want to be with you in every way."  I softly kissed her now 
smiling mouth.  "I can think of many more pleasant four letter 
words."

"Can you now?"  She grinned.

"Yeah, words like want and need and love and marry."  I kissed her 
after each word.

"Wait a minute, Mulder.  Marry has five letters in it."  Her eyes 
were sparkling and a Scully smile lingered on her lips.

"Yeah, I know Scully.  But I figure I have to move on some time 
and marry sounds pretty good when I preface it with 'Will you' and 
end it with 'me?'"

Her eyes got big as saucers.  "Is that a proposal, G-Man?"

"Yeah, it's the second time I've asked you and this time I want an 
answer."

"Mulder,"  she groaned.  "You didn't really mean it way back then 
did you?"

"I loved you back then Scully, but I knew it wasn't time.  I had 
to say it, though, and if you had said yes I would have been the 
happiest man alive."

She smiled and said, "Yeah."

I looked at her quizzically and said "Yeah? What?"

"In keeping with the tradition of your four letter words, my 
answer is yeah.  I will marry you Mulder."

Here I am, the happiest man alive, and I can't think of a single 
romantic thing to say.  Just before I kiss her again, all I can 
find to express myself is more four letter words.

"Holy Shit!"