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 This author's email address has changed to:  slash_evidence@ameritech.net

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Title: Blood and Roses III: Rose Petals on Lilac (1/3)
Author: vii@netdirect.net (Eternal)
Date: Sat, 30 Aug 1997 07:14:30 GMT~

Title: Blood and Roses III: Rose Petals on Lilac (1/3)
Author: Hope
E-mail: vii@netdirect.net
Feedback: Any and all is thoroughly appreciated, but I
would genuinely like constructive criticism. I have a vague
notion of what's "right" with my stories; I need to know
what's "wrong" with them.
Category: XA (Working towards R, I swear!)
Rating: PG-13/R (adult content/language)
Summary:A former government agent with a very special
talent divides Mulder and Scully- and they discover some
minds were never meant to meet.
Timespan/Spoilers: Assumes "One Breath", "The Field
Where I Died", "Kaddish", "Memento Mori", "Small Potatoes";
COMPLETELY ignores anything after SP (including and
especially "Gethsemene"
Note: This story begins just hours after "A Winter of
Roses" ends.
Keywords: Mulder, Scully, romance, ESP, conspiracy.
Repost: Simultaneous to alt.tv.x-files.creative, eXtreme
Possibilities.
Archive: Yes
Disclaimer: "Mulder", "Scully" and "The X-Files" are
copyright 1996, 1997 Ten-Thirteen Productions, and their
use here is implied to fall under the statute of fair use for
nonprofit organizations. "Blood and Roses" and "Rose
Petals on Lilac" copyright 1997 Hope. This
story may not be reprinted, in either electronic or bound
media, without my and Ten-Thirteen's express written
permission.

Saturday, 4.32 am

     Scully hung in the doorway, her eyes drifting
heavily closed, then open. They'd talked for hours, about
nothing and everything. Only when she had caught herself
drifting to sleep against his shoulder had she ushered him to
the door.
     She watched Mulder adjust his jacket, half smile
uncomfortably, then step out into the hallway.
     "Good night, Mulder," she smiled softly.
     "What, no good night kiss?"
     She pushed him gently away from her door. "Good
night, Mulder."
     Turning to leave, he threw back over his shoulder,
"Can't blame a man for trying."
     "Good night, Mulder," she laughed. 
     After she had heard the front door hiss shut, she
closed her own door. Shuffling through her apartment, she 
half straightened things as she made her way to her
bedroom. She could smell him in the air, his soap and
shampoo, his leather jacket and his skin. She felt a twinge
in her chest, and wrote it off to exhaustion. She'd had a very
long two days.
     Sleep came easily.

Saturday, 7.12 pm

     Hefting a grocery bag, Scully walked down the
sidewalk, trying to remember if she had parked on the side
or behind the building. She still felt sleepy, despite having
indulgently slept away most of the day. 
     She sidestepped to avoid running into another
pedestrian, losing an orange and an onion in the process.
She leaned over to pick them up, and a sign caught her eye.
A bookstore. She paused, tossed her lost produce back into
the bag, and headed for the welcoming store behind the
sign. 
     The rich scent of new books and coffee assaulted
her as she opened the door. She asked the clerk at the desk
to keep her bag, then headed out into the stacks. She passed
by the romance section without a second look, paused
briefly at the non-fiction section, browsed through the
crossword and games section, finally stopping at Adult
Fiction.
     She leaned her head sideways, running a finger
along the new, stiff spines of the books. Biting her lip, she
pulled a slim, crimson volume from the shelves, looked
around her, then opened the cover. The pages were heavy-
weight paper, substantial between her fingers. A guilty
flush rose to her cheeks, as she scanned the first few pages,
drinking in the beginnings of an exotic, erotic tale.
     "That one doesn't have a very happy ending," a
cultured male voice said. Scully startled, nearly throwing
the book from her hands. Snapping the novel closed, she
looked up, into a pair of intense black eyes.
     "Excuse me," Scully stuttered uncomfortably, trying
to shove the book back onto the shelf. She couldn't pull her
eyes away from the man, taking in his handsome, chiseled
features. His smile was a little cold, and his expression
distant, but she found herself inexorably attracted to him.
     "Oh, don't put it back on my account," he said,
taking the haphazardly discarded book back off the shelf,
and placing it in Scully's hands. "I thoroughly enjoyed it,
myself. It just didn't have a very happy ending."
     A flush of warmth rose up Scully's neck. She tried
to think of something, anything to say. "I need to pay for
this," she blurted out, much to her horror. She started to
move away from him, but she could feel him follow.
     "Miss . . .?" 
     She stopped in mid stride, turning to look at him.
     "Scully. And it's Doctor."
     A smile smoothed across his face. "Well, Doctor
Scully, would you like to take a cup of coffee with me?
Perhaps discuss literature?"
     "I don't even know your name," she replied, not
refusing.
     "Julian Levine." His eyes bored into hers, as if
examining her very soul. Any second thoughts she might
have had slipped away, and Scully accepted his invitation.

Saturday, 9.55 pm
     
     "So we were standing in this abandoned house,
bodies just scattered over the floor. It was horrible, but even
more so for Mulder. He'd grown so attached to this woman,
he felt responsible."
     Scully stirred her bowl of onion soup, watching the
broth as it lapped at the edges of the china. After having a
cup of coffee with Julian, she'd discovered that he was a
fascinating man. He had at least passing knowledge of
nearly all of her topics of conversation. After they had idled
in the coffee shop for two hours, he'd asked her to dinner.
He'd even graciously waited outside her apartment door as
she changed.
     Their chat had moved into deeper, more personal
conversations over dinner, and she found herself revealing
details of her job, of her personal life, that she'd have never
considered sharing with a near stranger before. Whatever it
was about Julian, she liked it, and wanted more of it in her
life. He made her feel alive.
     "It would seem that Mulder is. . . ah. . . a little
obsessive?" Julian swirled a glass of wine in his hand,
looking directly at Scully. The normal sense of prickling
she would feel, the raise of defense that would normally
follow such a comment didn't arise.
     "He is. His whole life is the X-files, every minute,
every fiber of his being. I think losing Samantha has left
him with questions he can never have answered, and he fills
that space answering questions no one wanted to ask."
     "Dana, why do you do it? Let him take so much of
your life? What are your interests, your desires? Do you let
him supercede everything?"
     Scully pushed her bowl aside, and dabbed at the
corners of her mouth with the linen napkin. "Fox Mulder is
a big part of my life, but he's not everything to me." The
words sounded surprisingly seductive.
     Languorously, Julian reached out and took Scully's
hand in his own. A soft, dark smile crossed his lips, and he
leaned forward to listen.

Saturday, 9.55 pm

     Mulder laid on his couch, staring at the ceiling tiles.
He'd tried to call Scully several times that day, but never
managed to reach her. He hadn't wanted anything
important- just to talk to her, to hear her voice. He felt that
last night had been a big step towards reconciling his new
emotions. She'd been his partner so long, he'd never
stopped to realize what he felt, until lately.
     A vague sense of unease rested heavily on him.
Maybe she was avoiding him. Maybe he'd gone too far.
Maybe he'd shared too much. Maybe she'd shared too
much. He shook his head and tried to stop thinking about it. 
     A tap sounded at the door, and for a moment, his
heart leapt. He hurried to the door, and peered out of the
spyhole. Sucking air between his front teeth, he sighed to
himself, and opened the door to the pizza boy.
     "Ten fifty," the boy said, holding out his hand.
     Mulder scrounged through his pockets, pulling out a
ten and two ones. He stuffed them in the boy's hand, and
took the pizza.
     He shuffled over and opened the fridge, pulling out
a beer. He grabbed a plate from the sink (one of the two he
owned) and settled back on the couch. The plate chattered
where he tossed it down carelessly on the coffee table.
     Lifting the lid on the pizza, he scowled. His
pepperoni and sausage had somehow arrived as a green
peppers and onion. Just as he was going to drop the lid in
disgust, he noticed a piece of paper taped to the inside of
the box.
     "Meet me, Zhongwen's, 10.30pm."
     Raising an eyebrow, he pulled the note out of the
box, then crumpled it. He pulled a slice of pizza out, and bit
into it with resignation as he scanned for a clean shirt.

End Part One

Title: Blood and Roses III: Rose Petals on Lilac (2/3)
Author: Hope
E-mail: vii@netdirect.net
Feedback: Any and all is thoroughly appreciated, but I
would genuinely like constructive criticism. I have a vague
notion of what's "right" with my stories; I need to know
what's "wrong" with them.
Category: XA (Working towards R, I swear!)
Rating: PG-13/R (adult content/language)
Summary:A former government agent with a very special
talent divides Mulder and Scully- and they discover some
minds were never meant to meet.
Timespan/Spoilers: Assumes "One Breath", "The Field
Where I Died", "Kaddish", "Memento Mori", "Small Potatoes";
COMPLETELY ignores anything after SP (including and
especially "Gethsemene")
Note: This story begins just hours after "A Winter of
Roses" ends.
Keywords: Mulder, Scully, romance, ESP, conspiracy.
Repost: Simultaneous to alt.tv.x-files.creative, eXtreme
Possibilities.
Archive: Yes
Disclaimer: "Mulder", "Scully" and "The X-Files" are
copyright 1996, 1997 Ten-Thirteen Productions, and their
use here is implied to fall under the statute of fair use for
nonprofit organizations. "Blood and Roses" and "Rose
Petals on Lilac" copyright 1997 Hope. This
story may not be reprinted, in either electronic or bound
media, without my and Ten-Thirteen's express written
permission.

Saturday, 10.45 pm

     "I really enjoyed tonight, Dana. I'd like to see you
again." Julian smiled softly at her, standing beside her door.
     Scully returned the smile. "I think I'd like that."
     They lingered for a long moment, eyes meeting
eyes, hands wanting to meet hands. Finally Scully spoke
again.
     "Would you like to come in?"
     He smiled uncomfortably. "I don't know, Dana. . . I
mean, are you certain?"
     A soft laughed bubbled up from Scully. "Just
coffee. . . for now."
     

Saturday, 10.47 pm

     Mulder stood at the front window of Zhongwen's,
trying to stare down a very dead duck in the window. He
had no idea where Marita was, or why she'd kept him
waiting, but he was only going to lose the staring game one
more time before he left.
     Just as his eyes started to dry in the stiff, night wind,
he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he came face to face
with Marita, her blonde hair tied up in a black turban, dark
glasses covering most of her face.
     "So," Mulder said, a little irritated.
     "So," she replied, "They've disbanded the ESPer
program."
     "I know. I read about it in Newsweek."
     "Walk with me," she said, starting down the street
without him. In a few long strides, Mulder caught up with
her.
     "They disbanded the ESPer program with the
assumption that several of the more talented members
would remain . . . government employees."
     "And you called me all the way out here to tell
me..." Mulder let his voice trail off into a question mark.
     "As I understand, one of the permanent employees
has, ah. . . left his post."
     Mulder cocked an eyebrow. "Is this an X file or is it
a grave digging operation for your department?"
     "I suppose it's both, Agent Mulder. You might be
interested to know that this man was last seen talking to
Agent Scully in a downtown bookstore this morning. He
managed to lose our tail shortly after that."
     Everything slowed down for Mulder. He could hear
his heart battling to beat in his chest as his throat
constricted. "What exactly did this man do in the ESPer
program?"
     "Oh, so now you're interested." She pulled a
photograph from her pocket and handed it to him.
     "Scully is my partner."
     Marita raised her eyebrows, smirking softly. "He
was part of the propaganda department. He's been classified
a Level 5 empath."
     "Is he dangerous?" The question caught in Mulder's
throat.
     "Unfortunately, he was one of the program members
contracted as permanent after it shut down because he's also
been cited as having an asocial personality disorder,
bordering on dementia, including undifferentiated
schizophrenic symptoma."
     "Those symptoms being?" Mulder's voice was as
cold as his heart. He was frozen in place.
     "Paranoia, fairly standard, panic attacks and. . ."
Maria stopped, looking away from Mulder.
     "And what?" 
     "Psychogenic fugue states accompanied by episodes
of violence."
     Mulder stared at Marita, a horrified look rippling
across his face. Without another word, he charged back
down the street and into his car. Slightly bemused, and
slightly worried, Marita watched him drive off into the
night.


Sunday, 12.42 am    

     Scully ignored her phone ringing for the fifth time
in less than an hour. Rolling over, she put an arm around
Julian and adjusted the sheets to cover her bare skin. She
looked up at the clock, then closed her eyes., breathing in
Julian's rich, masculine scent. 
     She certainly hadn't expected to fall into Julian's
arms that night, but everything between them had seemed
so natural. She found herself telling him things she
wouldn't have dreamed of telling Mulder, and even
beginning to realize how carefully bound Mulder had kept
her. Well, things were going to change, she decided.
     Without another thought, she drifted back into
sleep.
     
Sunday, 1.32 am

     Mulder hesitated, moved, then hesitated. His hand
hovered moments from Scully's front door. He wanted to
knock, but had no idea what he might say. 'Sorry, Scully, I
was just checking to make sure this insane empath hadn't
killed you.'
     "That would go over well," he muttered to himself,
raising his hand to rap on the door again. Looking up and
down the hall, he finally tapped twice, sharply.
     A few moments later, he could hear fumbling at the
door, and it swung open a few inches.
     "What, Mulder?" Scully didn't look particularly
pleased to see him.
     "I was . . . ah, I mean I. . ."
     Before he could stutter out his sentence, a male
figure appeared behind Scully, an arm wrapping
possessively around her shoulders. He tried to peer in, to
catch a glimpse of his face.
     "What is it, Mulder?" Mulder felt a fiery pang tear
through his chest. At that moment, it didn't matter who the
man was, only that it was a man who'd certainly been
sleeping in Scully's bed.
     "I need to talk to you, Scully."
     "Mulder, what?" Scully was uncharacteristically
angry at this point, and her voice fairly crackled with rage.
She cracked the door open a little further, revealing that she
was dressed only in a bed sheet. Mulder bit back a scathing
comment.
     "I need to speak to you privately," he hissed.
     "Perhaps you haven't noticed, but I'm not dressed."
Scully's voice was cold, almost alien. A prickle of fear
danced in Mulder's chest.
     "Then call off your dog, and I'll talk to you through
the door."
     Scully closed the door in his face. He could hear her
talking and moving, but couldn't make out what she was
saying. Her voice grew soft as she moved away, then
stronger. After a few moments, the door swung open, and
she stepped out, clad only in a man's dress shirt.
     "What?"
     Mulder pursed his lips, staring above Scully's head.
He refused to allow his mind to put together the events of
her night. He refused to see her auburn hair flowing like
silk against sheets, refused to see her mouth swollen with
kisses that weren't his.
     "One of the government's ESPers has disappeared."
     Scully raised an eyebrow, her mouth curling into an
angry scowl. "So?"
     Mulder's heart beat furiously in his chest, and he
spoke without thinking. "So he's psychotic. He's dangerous,
and my sources tell me you're fucking him."
     Scully's eyes widened and she turned to storm back
into her apartment. She stopped short, her hand on the
knob. Looking back at him, she jutted her jaw and glared
into his eyes.
     "You're pathetic, Mulder. I feel sorry for you."
     Mulder watched helplessly as she swung her door
open and disappeared behind it with a slam. He moved to
walk back down the hallway, but paused, then slammed his
fist against her door. He tore the picture Marita had given
him out of his pocket, and slid it under the door, then
escaped the apartment before someone called the police.

End Part Two

Title: Blood and Roses III: Rose Petals on Lilac (3/3)
Author: Hope
E-mail: vii@netdirect.net
Feedback: Any and all is thoroughly appreciated, but I
would genuinely like constructive criticism. I have a vague
notion of what's "right" with my stories; I need to know
what's "wrong" with them.
Category: XA (Working towards R, I swear!)
Rating: PG-13/R (adult content/language)
Summary:A former government agent with a very special
talent divides Mulder and Scully- and they discover some
minds were never meant to meet.
Timespan/Spoilers: Assumes "One Breath", "The Field
Where I Died", "Kaddish", "Memento Mori", "Small Potatoes";
COMPLETELY ignores anything after SP (including and
especially "Gethsemene")
Note: This story begins just hours after "A Winter of
Roses" ends.
Keywords: Mulder, Scully, romance, ESP, conspiracy.
Repost: Simultaneous to alt.tv.x-files.creative, eXtreme
Possibilities.
Archive: Yes
Disclaimer: "Mulder", "Scully" and "The X-Files" are
copyright 1996, 1997 Ten-Thirteen Productions, and their
use here is implied to fall under the statute of fair use for
nonprofit organizations. "Blood and Roses" and "Rose
Petals on Lilac" copyright 1997 Hope. This
story may not be reprinted, in either electronic or bound
media, without my and Ten-Thirteen's express written
permission.

Sunday, 4.32 am

     "Mulder, what are you doing?"
     Looking up from the computer terminal, Mulder
squinted up, discerning Skinner's solid form in the
doorway. 
     "Sir?"
     "It's four thirty on Sunday morning, Mulder. Why
are you here?"
     Shaking his head, Mulder squeezed the bridge of his
nose. "Catching up on paperwork."
     Skinner stepped into the room, walking around to
look at the computer screen.
     "I don't recall any case you've had that involved the
ESPer program, Mulder."
     Taking a sharp breath, Mulder ran his hands through
his hair, and turned to face his superior. "Sir, I think
Scully's in trouble."
     Skinner shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.
"What kind of trouble?"
     Mulder turned around again, punched a few keys,
and pulled up a Defense Department Intranet page. Julian's
face stared back from the page, flanked by information
about his previous position in the ESPer program, and a
flashing warning.
     "Agent Mulder, are you telling me you hacked into
the Defense Department's Intranet?"
     "Sir, I'm telling you that a Defense sanctioned killer
is in Scully's apartment right now."
     "Move," Skinner ordered, leaning over the
computer. Clicking through the page, he read over the
information about Julian Levine, then accessed a password
restricted area Mulder had been working on opening.
      After a long moment, Skinner looked up. "Are you
certain this is the man with Agent Scully?"
     "Yes sir," Mulder replied.
     A hard look settled in Skinner's eyes. "I don't
suppose there's any point in telling you to go home."
     Mulder shook his head.
     "Then come with me, Agent Mulder."

Sunday, 6.12 am

     While chimes from Sunday morning masses filtered
through the air, eight men and women dressed in black,
armed with AR-15s lined the hallway surrounding Scully's
door. Skinner held Mulder back at the end of the corridor.
     "They won't hurt her," Skinner assured him quietly.
     Mulder felt as if he were being strangled. He
watched with dread as the point man for the incursion team
tapped on Scully's door with the nose of his rifle.

Sunday, 6.13 am
     
     Julian sat bolt upright in bed at the first sounds of
tapping. He could feel danger, all around him. He looked
over at Dana sleeping peacefully next to him. Creeping out
of the sheets, he padded quietly out of the bedroom.
     Another tap came at the door, but he ignored it,
grabbing Scully's purse and opening it. He grabbed her .45,
removing the safety and pulling back the slide. 
     "Agent Scully, please open the door."
     Julian stared up at the door, then slipped back into
the bedroom. Pressing the cold metal of the gun against
Scully's forehead, he leaned over and whispered into her
ear.
     "Wake up, lover, we have company."
     

Sunday, 6.18 am

     "He. . . he has a gun," Scully breathed into the
phone. Mulder's face drained a sickly white as he relayed
the message to Skinner.
     "Scully, we're going to get you out of there, safely."
     "Hello Agent Mulder," a man's voice took over on
the phone, oozing blackly. "Would you like to hear my list
of demands?"
     "Yes, yes I would." He motioned for Skinner to
hand him his notepad.
     "I want everyone to leave this building. I want you
to go at least four blocks away. I want a car."
     Mulder nodded, cradling the phone between his ear
and his shoulder. He wrote the demands in his crabbed
hand, handing the pad to Skinner.
     "And one more thing, Agent Fox Mulder," Julian
enunciated icily.
     "Yes?"
     "I want to keep Dana. She's very good."
     The line went dead, and Mulder stared at the phone
before throwing it to the floor.

Sunday, 6.28 am

     "Why are you doing this?" Scully's said softly,
staring at Julian as he peered out of the window. 
     "We would have been just fine if your partner could
have kept his nose where it belonged, Dana. I liked you. I
liked you a lot."
     "I still like you," Scully ventured warily.
     "Oh bullshit," he replied, laughing. "You'd say
anything to keep me calm at this point."
     Scully nodded, scanning the area around her for a
weapon. "You're right, I would."
     "Quit looking," he scowled. "Come on, the car's
here."
     "They're going to tail that car," she said stiffly,
standing.
     "Yes, they are, but we're going on a trip. They won't
do anything while you're still with me."
     On their way out, Scully noticed the Defense 
Department glossy wedged under the throw rug by the door.

End Part Three


Sunday, 7.09 am

     Mulder winced as the car went over a speed bump
far faster than it should have. He held tight onto the hood of
the trunk, keeping it closed through turns and twists. Julian
was driving a lot faster than he needed to be. He couldn't
hear anything except for the whining of the engine and the
tearing of tires against pavement. 

Sunday, 7.09 am
     
     "You should put on your seatbelt." Scully said, as
they took another hairpin turn.
     "Shut up," Julian replied, waving the gun in her
face. His heart pounded with each turn, and he knew that
something had already gone wrong. He knew that someone
was behind him, but he hadn't seen anyone following. 
     "You really should put on your seatbelt," Scully
warned again. Her stomach felt sour, thinking back on what
had happened in the last twenty four hours. She flinched
internally, remembering the angry words Mulder had hurled
at her last night.
     Without warning, Julian slapped her across the jaw
with the .45. "I told you to shut up."
     Scully pressed her hand against her mouth.
Realizing that they were nearing a private airfield, she
knew she had to do something before he dumped her body
and disappeared into the mist covered mountains of
Virginia.
     "And I told you," she said, reaching out and jerking
the wheel into a hard left, "to put on your seatbelt!"

Sunday, 7.12 am

     Mulder's head swum. Trying to shake off his daze,
he carefully released his grip on the trunk hood. He tried to
slip out of the trunk, but only managed to fall into the
gravel. A sharp pain rippled across his chest and he
struggled to get to his knees. Drawing his sidearm, he
scrabbled along the driver's side of the car.
     Pulling himself up, he pointed his gun into the
driver's side window, now shattered from the impact.
     Julian's handsome face was in ribbons. Bubbles
formed in the blood on his lips. He most definitely wasn't
moving. Shifting his gaze, he saw Scully, blood running
from her nose and a gash on her forehead.
     "Scully?" he called. He started around the back of
the car, stumbling as pain rippled across his torso again. He
looked down, seeing blood spreading across his rumpled
grey shirt. Hearing a strange pop, he dragged himself up,
and was horrified to see flames licking across the hood of
the car.
     Ignoring his fear, denying his pain, Mulder rushed
over to Scully's side of the car, futilely pulling at the
handle. The flames danced higher, their heat reaching out
and scoring at his skin.
     Pulling a pen out of his pocket, he pressed it against
the center of the window. With one sure snap, he pounded
against the pen with his gun, and the glass shattered. 
Reaching into the window, he tried to open it from the
inside, but it stuck fast.
     Scully moaned softly, never opening her eyes.
Mulder could feel the heat singeing his hair, and he threw
himself into the window, ignoring the shards of glass as
they cut into his skin. Despite the heat, a chill fell over him.
Leaning down, he unbuckled Scully's seatbelt and tossed it
out of his way. He wrapped his arms around her waist,
jerking her limp arms around his neck. Trying to wrest her
from her seat, another stabbing pain knocked him to his
knees. The flames licked out at him, and he forced himself
back to his feet. 
     He dragged her out of the window, internally
recoiling as he heard her pants tear on the broken glass.
Yanking her a few feet away from the car, he watched over
her limp body as the fire crawled to engulf the front seat of
the car. The scent of roasted flesh filled the air, sickly sweet
and hot.
     Mulder's mind swam, swirling blackness rising up
over his vision. He laid his head on Scully's chest and
gasped a familiar refrain before his consciousness faded.
     "One more breath, Dana. . ."

Tuesday, 12.42 pm

     "Hi."
     Mulder looked up from his pillow. Scully stood in
the doorway of his hospital room, leaning on a crutch. He
surveyed the road map of bandages and stitches that criss-
crossed her body. 
     "Hi."
     Hobbling into the room, she slowly lowered herself
down onto his bed. "How are you feeling?"
     She felt a million miles away, Mulder realized, and
that hurt more than any of the physical pain. "I'm okay I
guess."
     "You punctured your lung," Scully said, examining
the seam of her robe. 
     "If I had known you were going to crash the car, I
would have braced myself," Mulder smirked.
     Scully tightened her lower lip, leaning forward and
allowing her hair to hide her face.
     "Scully?" Mulder edged up in bed, reaching to touch
her, but stopping short.
     She took his hand in hers, never once turning to
look at him.
     "One more breath, Mulder?"
     He raised his eyebrows, tensing his grip on her
hand. " That's all I've ever really asked of you."
     Warm tears fell on his hand, and he tried touch her
again. She stiffened her arm, holding his hand back.
     "You've asked for more," she reminded softly, her
voice breaking.
     " But I never expected to get that." His voice was
gentle and bittersweet. With one last squeeze, she let his
hand slide from hers as she stood. She faced him, and
touched his hairline, letting her fingers glance over the
abrasions on his skin.
     Leaning forward, she brushed his lips gently with
hers, lingering for a brief moment. Without a word, she
stepped back and limped out of his room.

Tuesday, 12.47 pm

     He cried.

Tuesday, 12.47 pm

     She cried.

The End