From: "xfilesopus" Date: Sun, 22 Feb 2004 18:59:44 -0600 Subject: Crisis of Conscience by Cybill and Xfilesopus Source: direct CHAPTER 10 Memorial Hospital 5:30 a.m. Is it my luck or Mulder's that has us being called in for duty at four in the morning, just when things were getting... well, very interesting? I haven't been that aroused since... hmm, for a long time. Well, in all honestly, I guess you can count a couple days ago when Mulder had me pinned up against his bedroom door. We were so close to consummating this thing between us. It's probably better that we were interrupted. We haven't even discussed our relationship and how becoming more personal with each other is going to effect our partnership. We'll definitely have to keep it a secret for a while. As long as Agent Donovan didn't take what he overheard yesterday to his superiors, we should be in the clear. The Bureau tends to frown on fraternization between partners. Technically, we already broke the fraternization policy just by being in the other's hotel rooms on our first case. That thought brings a big smile to my face. I'm sure Mulder and I will discuss it. We have to. Okay, so we'll discuss what's happening between us before we take that last step. We really shouldn't go there before we've set out boundaries, rules and so forth. God, here I am about to do an autopsy on the latest victim and all I can think about is Mulder. See, it's already affecting my work. Get it together, Dana. Stop thinking about Mulder's kisses, his lips roaming over your neck, his hands caressing your thighs, ass, breasts. Oh crap! There I go again. What the hell am I doing? Rethinking those things will only lead to one thing... more frustration. Focus. Okay, I can do that. I take off my suit in favor of green scrubs, like I always do. I make my way over to the steel table, flick on the overhead light and microphone. Pulling back the sheet I view the body. OH MY GOD! This man was butchered! Can this possibly be the same perpetrator? This is not the same MO as the person who killed young Mabel O'Rourke. This body is that of an elderly male, who was most notably not strangled. I wonder what Mulder's take will be on this. I pick up the chart at the edge of the tray and begin my observation. "Dr. Dana Scully, Special Agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation providing the autopsy of," I pause, re-reading the name on the chart, "of Martin Banbury, born July 10, 1928. Autopsy number 525-2003. I'll start with the external examination." "The body is that of a normally developed, under-nourished Caucasian male measuring sixty-four inches in length, weighing one hundred thirty- five pounds. The body appears to be consistent with the stated age of seventy years." "It appears the victim was killed with a large axe-like object. Most likely a hatchet." Counting the swollen, puckered wounds, "He was struck three times in the stomach, twice in the chest and once in the upper left thigh. The wounds were sewn back together with a rough string, like twine, post-mortem. I'll take a sample and have it analyzed in the lab." I cannot believe this. Why the hell would a person kill someone so brutally and then sew up the wounds post-mortem? It just doesn't make sense. "The victim doesn't appear to have many defensive wounds on the arms or hands, suggesting the victim was taken by surprise. There is a filmy substance on the skin and hair." I get a little closer and realize that I can clearly smell soap. Soap? I make my way around the table and softly touch the hair. It's greasy. Upon closer inspection I can smell what has to be shampoo or conditioner. "After inspection, I deduce that the victim was taking a shower when attacked." I cut into the biggest stitching in the middle of his stomach. Inside the stomach his organs and intestines are in a big pile of mush. Now why would the killer shove the organs back into the body haphazardly? It's not often that a killer puts the parts back into the body. Normally, they would dispose of them at the crime scene. "Snipping the stitching away from the wounds discloses that the body's organs were inserted back into the body post-mortem. A filmy substance that looks similar to the soap on the victim's body and hair is also found within the organs. I'll have the substance analyzed for confirmation." This guy is a real sicko. "The scalp is covered by four-inch long, thin, straight, gray hair. The skull is symmetric and intact. The eyes are closed. Upon opening, the irises are brown in color. The teeth are acrylic." Flipping the body to the side, "The back is symmetrical. The upper and lower extremities are also symmetric and normally developed. There seems to be dirt and what look like drag marks along the back and legs." I move the body so it's wedged on its side so that I can take samples of the dirt and any fibers that might be found. "I have taken samples of the dirt and particles found on the back of the body." I move the body back to its original position, face up. Again the particles found look like remnants of hay. So that's definitely a small connection to Mabel O'Rourke. "I'll move on to the internal examination, beginning with the Y-incision." I weigh each of the organs and announce them into the microphone. God, I'm hungry. I haven't eaten anything since the Wendy's we drove through last night, and since I was more tired than hungry, that chicken sandwich was mostly uneaten. "After reviewing the organs, I note that there is scarring around the heart. The chart confirms past history of myocardial infarction." Poor Mr. Banbury. He was already in the final stages of his life and someone chooses to brutally murder him. The man was 70 years old, frail, retired and was dealing with the repercussions of a stroke or heart attack. "Rigor mortis in addition to body temperature indicates time of death approximately between 1700 and 1900 on September 20. Toxicology reports to be noted in the file at a later date." I pause for a minute, trying to recall some semblance of normalcy to my voice. It is so hard to finalize an autopsy. It's the last thing that will ever be done to a person. "I ascribe the death to multiple deep force injuries to the stomach. Today's date, September 21, 1998, autopsy done by Dr. Dana Scully. Victim, Martin Banbury, number 525-2003." Some days it's really difficult to do my job. It's so hard to see something of that nature day in and day out. Some people may think I'm cold or I don't have any feelings because they don't see me vomiting or crying after I've completed my work. You have to become somewhat cold to it on the outside. It doesn't mean that you don't have feelings regarding what you were just asked to do. I relate it to what Mulder has to go through when profiling a killer. He has to become the monster, feel what they feel in order to bring some good of the situation. My job is to dissect a person's body for clues to why and how they were taken brutally from this world. I move to the employee lockers to take my shower. It's always such a relief to get the smell of the dead off of me immediately after an autopsy. Besides, this time I even brought my vanilla lotion. I know it seems silly to want to primp before seeing Mulder again but I can't help it. Now that we're moving in another direction it brings out all of these girly attributes I never really gave that much consideration to. Like scented lotion. Of course I wear it all of the time, but I don't normally make a point of re-applying after an autopsy. Does he even notice? Probably not - he can be self-centered at times. I still can't believe he loves me. Me! I know that sounds silly but I can't help but be out-of-my-mind elated over the changes we've made. I also can't wait until we are finally able to express our feelings to each other in a more physical way. Just his kisses set me on fire. What's it going to be like to actually make love to him? I wonder if he's thinking about our interrupted morning like I am. I finish getting ready and head out to find Mulder. **** We head towards the hospital just as Scully is exiting the main entrance. Her timing is perfect, as usual. The wide double doors of the entrance make her hair swirl around her face. Scully does the windblown look very well. She stops a second to adjust the swept away look back into place. She slides her hands down the front of her blazer and straightens the kinks. What I wouldn't give to be the one to slide my hands down her front and straighten it for her. As she spots Mike and me, she immediately turns her attention towards us. That walk - I know that walk. Swift, smooth and with a confidence that cannot be matched. She's beauty in motion. Of course, her body... well, her body is mine now, or it will be as soon as we have some time alone together. I shiver with anticipation. I barely register that she's standing in front of us already speaking. I clutch my offering to her in my left hand and wait until my mind catches up with what she's saying. "Mulder, I said are you cold? You just shivered." Her eyebrows are drawn together. Dr. Scully is making her appearance. "I'm a little cold," I say weakly. I can't tell her what I really am. Somehow I don't think this is the right forum for that. Luckily, I have a distraction handy. "Are you hungry? I brought you a bagel and some coffee." I hold out the breakfast to her. "I'm famished, Mulder... thank you." She seems so happy that I thought of her. I can't help smiling. "You're welcome." I am looking forward to fulfilling another biological need with her, but Mike is standing right here, so I guess that's not going to happen right now. "How did the autopsy go?" I ask as she takes a sip of her coffee. "Agent Donovan was accurate in his description of the wounds. The killer used a hatchet or axe of some sort." Scully takes a bite of her bagel and continues when she's done. "Six blows to the upper body, one to the left thigh. The wounds were stitched up with a thick twine. I'm having it run against the twine used to strangle Mabel O'Rourke." She takes another bite of the bagel. She is so comfortable talking about this stuff. It never ceases to amaze me. "The strange thing with this one, Mulder, is that our killer put all of the organs back into the body. Not in any particular order, either." She takes another sip of the coffee. Some of it remains on her upper lip and I wonder briefly if Mike would mind if I lick it off of her. I glance around to see where Mike went. He has moved several feet away from us and is dialing his cell phone. Good. "Some of the tissue from the stomach and chest were shoved back into the open wounds and then sewn together. This was not done by someone who has experience stitching up wounds either, so we're not looking for a person in the medical profession." As she begins to take another bite of her bagel, her thumb catches some of the cream cheese and she licks it off. I feel my dick jump and quickly look away from her. I am hardly paying attention to what she is saying, and I'm fairly sure it's important or else she wouldn't be saying it. I hope she has a chance to write up her autopsy report quickly in case I miss something. "There was hay found on the back of the legs and caught within the hair, consistent with the body having been dragged across a rough surface, quite possibly the floor of a barn." I fix my gaze on the license plate of a car in the distance. It is much easier to hear what she is saying this way. "Oh, and Mr. Banbury was taking medication for heart disease. He'd had a heart attack within the past year. This victim is nothing like Ms. O'Rourke's murder, yet there are a few things that might connect the victims." She tossed her coffee cup in the garbage can next to us. "Like what?" "Well, the hay and the hospital are the most obvious." "Yeah, I'm sure the same guy did both of these murders. It doesn't surprise me that the organs were haphazardly dumped into the body, either. I think the murderer is some sort of a farm hand or something who tries to heal the victims he kills," I say, waiting to hear what Scully makes of my theory. I don't care what Mike thinks. Scully's is the only opinion that matters. "You're kidding, right, Mulder? Heal the victim, as in with the cosmic healing powers of the universe? Because the last time I checked, Mabel was killed by a person who stole her breath away, literally." Scully never seems to tire of challenging my theories. I wonder if she enjoys this as much as I do. "Mr. Banbury in there... he was struck with incredible force by a crazed psycho with what could possibly have been an axe." I nod in agreement. What she is saying is true. "I'm clearly missing the healing aspect of your theory." I move closer to her so our arms are touching. To outsiders, it would seem that we are arguing, but this is almost like foreplay to us. At least to me it is. I like to think it's the same for her. "I didn't say the killer had cosmic healing powers, Scully." I move away from her so we aren't touching any more. No good will come from us touching here. "I said the killer tries to heal the victims after he harms them." She looks at me unbelievingly. That look always makes me try harder. "Think about it, Scully. What do you do when you make a mistake?" She makes a motion that tells me she's not following me. "You try to erase that mistake, Scully, and that's what I think this killer is trying to do." I absent-mindedly touch her arm again. I can't help myself. My theory makes perfect sense to me. I want her to follow what I'm saying. "So you're saying that our killer takes the lives of his victims and once dead, regrets the decision and tries to heal them, as you so aptly put it? Do you know how that sounds Mulder, even for you? "Maybe he doesn't know they're dead. I'm not sure that he's healing them, Scully; I think he wants the doctors to do that. That's why he brings them here to the hospital," I say, becoming more sure of my theory as we discuss it. I'm coming to the end of what I've figured out, but with Scully's help, I can flesh it out. If she questioned me like this under any other circumstances, it would destroy me, but when I'm trying to profile, her doubt just makes me stronger. Out of the corner of my eye, I see that Mike is coming back toward us so I immediately move away from Scully. Even though he has promised to keep quiet about Scully and me, he doesn't need to see anything more than what he's already seen. "Hi, guys, whatcha doing?" Mike says jovially as he approaches us. "Just discussing the autopsy. Any news from the police chief?" "No, she doesn't know what to think. She's really relying on us to solve this. All the interviews are done, though, and she's reviewed them but it doesn't look like anyone has seen anything," Mike says. I'm very happy he's dealing with the local PD. I really hate that whole 'playing well with others' part of the job. I'm just not good at it. I look at my watch. It's nearly nine o'clock so businesses are finally open. I'm really anxious to start interviewing people on my own. "I would like to visit the feed store where Mabel may have visited before she died and then I want to go to her stable," I say decisively. I am convinced that another clue will present itself at one of the locations. "Hey, Mulder, don't think you get to do all the investigating yourself. Why don't you let Scully and me do some of it," Mike suggests helpfully. Scully rolls her eyes. "Mulder, Mike and I can check out the stable while you visit the feed store," Scully replies. I look from Scully to Mike. I'm not sure that I really want Scully alone with him. He knows too much about Jenna and is all too happy to gossip. I should have asked him to keep quiet about that, too, but I didn't and there's nothing I can do about it now. I'll just have to hope for the best. I'm not really good at that, either, though. "Okay, I guess that will work out. We can have the afternoon to assemble our notes this way. Let's all meet up at the hotel at one o'clock." "Okay, call me if something comes up?" Scully adds. "You do the same," I say as I head towards my rental, still a little leery of leaving those two alone. CHAPTER 11 "So, that was a total waste of time, Agent Donovon," I announce as he guides the vehicle down Highway 108. We had spent the better part of the early morning interviewing the stable hands, the owner and the other riders visiting the last place Mabel O'Rourke was heading when she was abducted. Her horse Cookie was sweet, even if it seemed a little sad. Bobby, one of the stable hands, said that Mabel visited her prize possession daily and the horse hasn't been the same since Mabel hasn't been around to ride and pet her. Sad. "You know, you could call me Mike," the agent states as he shifts his seat belt and checks his blind spot. "Okay, Mike," I drawl out. "You can call me Dana if you like." "So Dana, how long have you known Mulder?" "We've been partners for six years now. How do you know Mulder?" Finally, I get to ask the question I've wanted to ask since the minute we met Agent Donovan at the police station. "Oh, Mulder and I go way back. We were friends back in the VCU days, as he mentioned yesterday. We also played basketball for kicks every Saturday. It was a regular occasion. My wife used to complain that I spent more time with Mulder and the FBI than I did with her, so we invited our wives to lunch after every game to keep them happy." He chuckles and looks ahead somewhat dreamily as if he's remembering something. WHAT? Did I just hear that correctly? He knew Mulder when he was married? "Really, so how did your wives get along?" I ask, trying to sound like I'm not that interested. He smiles widely. "Oh, they got along great. But since Jenna is my cousin, it worked out even better. My Mary and Jenna have always been close. Mary's the one that made me introduce Mulder to Jenna. Small world, huh?" He's laughing at his own little joke. "Yeah, small world," I repeat, trying to curb my swirling emotions. Not only am I jealous that he married her, I'm angry that he didn't tell me this after we met Agent Donovan. Now I look like an idiot. I'm his partner of six years and I know nothing about him. Well, that's not true. I probably know him better than anyone, but he doesn't seem to want to tell me about this part of his life. I guess I can't fault him for that. I don't want to discuss my romantic history, especially in relation to Daniel, a married man. That was a huge mistake. "Yeah, it's too bad their relationship didn't work out." Mike says, breaking into my thoughts. "I hate the guy she's married to now. I think she married him for money. She's just a pretty little token on the guy's arm. It's sad." He checks his review mirror, changes lanes and continues with his spiel. "She threw away her career to be a submissive wife who throws parties for his business associates. Nothing I can do, though. She had it good with Mulder, I remind her of it. She's the one that screwed that up. But, good for him because now he has you." He smiles and gestures to me with his hand. "Mike, I'm sorry for your cousin's situation but you have the wrong idea about Agent Mulder and me," I say quite triumphantly. Maybe he won't see through the holes I left in that statement. "I didn't mean to imply anything, Dana. Really. I just ... well ... I did mean it. He just seems happy when he's around you. Of course, he's more protective than he used to be, but if I was around my wife all day I'd be throwing daggers at all the men that look at her, too." He laughs a full-bellied laugh that hums throughout the suddenly-too-hot vehicle. "What, Dana?" He looks over at me. I'm staring at him with my eyes wide and my mouth open. "You act like you don't know what I'm talking about. Whether you like it or not, every guy that enters Mulder's line of sight when you're together is immediately assessed. I'll bet in any given room Mulder will know exactly how many men are single, gay and married. He will also be deciding if any of said individuals will be a threat to his territory." I'm still looking at him, shocked. "Mulder always was territorial. You can't blame him -- he has had it hard." His tone is somber when he continues. "Jenna sure did a number on him." He shakes his head thoughtfully "Anyway, regardless of what you say, I think you're good for him, that's all." "I'd like to think that we are good for each other," I admit, forgetting that I had denied his allegation earlier. The rest of the ride passes primarily in silence. Mike drops me off of the hotel and heads off to the local FBI office. Wow, it's been some day and I'm only half way through it. I hope Mulder's getting somewhere at the feed store. **** I hope Scully and Mike are having a productive visit at the stables. Scully is an excellent agent, but she does have a tendency to get bored with investigating living, breathing subjects. Give her a dead body and she perks right up. Let her listen to one of my theories and she's full of insight. Interviewing witnesses is just not her thing. In fact, I was a little surprised she volunteered to go with Mike to the stable. Maybe she just wanted to make sure he was asking the right questions. I really hope that they only focus on the investigation. I think that's a little too much to hope for, though. Mike is way too chatty and Scully is way too curious to not have my marriage come up at all. I really don't want her to know anything about Jenna. My love for Scully is so different from whatever it was I felt for Jenna. I'm embarrassed that I married Jenna and that I have been unable to tell Scully I've been in love with her for the last six years. I suck. I should have told Scully I love her a long time ago. At the very least, I should have told her about Jenna. It wasn't a big deal to me, but I know marriage is a big deal to Scully. Now, she's not going to hear the details from me, but rather, from a guy she's known for one day. She's going to be pissed. I'm not sure if she's going to be angry that I was married or if she's going to be mad because she has to hear the details from Mike. Either way it's going to be bad, because I don't want Scully to be mad at me, especially not for something so trivial. I want a happy Scully. A happy Scully who will not shut me out and will let me go further with our relationship than we have gotten so far. And I really need that to happen soon or else I'm going to have to seek medical attention for a killer case of blue balls. And since Scully is my personal physician, that would be even worse. Oh, man, I really hope that Mike and Scully are able to stay focused on the case and away from discussions regarding my marriage. I pull into the parking lot of Clarkeson's Feed and Seed. I need to get myself together and focus on this case. Normally, I have no problem focusing on a case. In fact, usually I have a hard time focusing on something other than the case. But this new phase of my relationship with Scully has me distracted like I've never experienced before. I really need to get laid. I take a deep breath and turn off the engine. I take a minute to look around the feed store. This is more of a pet store than a feed store. There's a backroom full of fish tanks and I spend a couple of minutes perusing them. I hope my fish are fine at home. Langly always comes by to feed them when I'm out on a case. I bought the fish tank a couple weeks after Jenna moved out. I'm not sure why I got it, but as time went on and I delved deeper into the X- Files and the circumstances around Sam's death, I had trouble sleeping and watching the fish helped to calm me down. I like my guys and I like to think they like me too. "Excuse m-me, sir." I reflexively move out of the way of a man who's trying to sweep around me. Oh, Christ, I'm supposed to be here investigating a case and I'm thinking about fish. I should just call Kersh now and tell him that he's right. I'm not a very good agent. I briefly watch the man sweep. He's a couple inches shorter than I am, about thirty pounds heavier. He seems perfectly content to sweep the store, maybe he even takes pride in the job he's doing. I wish I could be as happy doing my job as he seems doing his. These places usually only have a couple of employees so they're here almost all the time. Maybe he knows something. He seems like he would be scared away if I introduce myself in my official capacity, so I decide to forego that part of my introduction. "Hi, do you work here?" I ask. Depending on how he answers, I'll either continue this as a customer or I'll tell him I'm investigating the O'Rourke case. "Uh-huh," he says shyly. He continues to sweep and really doesn't seem to want to talk to me. Something about him is odd. I should just ask for the owner of the place, I'm guessing his name is Mr. Clarkeson, and get on with this, but I would much rather spend a little time finding out about this guy. "Do you know anything about fish?" I ask, motioning toward the fish tank. "I'm thinking about setting up a tank. I hear fish can be very relaxing." "They're pretty. I get to feed them every morning when I first come in. It's one of my jobs," he says while continuing his sweeping. The guy has swept the same small area of the floor probably five times since I've been talking to him. "Really? You get to feed the fish every day. That's an important job. I'll bet the fish appreciate your attention every day ..." I falter. This guy's really not going to give me any information. "I have other important jobs," the clerk says proudly as he stops sweeping. "You do? Really?" I can't imagine this guy would be given too many important jobs. "What are they?" "Yesterday, Mr. Clarkeson asked me to deliver some hay to a customer. He was a real nice customer, but he had been sick. His heart hurt and he couldn't pick up his hay anymore. So, yesterday Mr. Clarkeson asked me if I could deliver it to his house and I did." The clerk seemed so proud to be given that job. I wish I could be that proud of my work assignments. "Really, I'll bet you did a good job. Is Mr. Clarkeson around? I'd like to talk to him about something." I can't really justify spending any more time chatting. I just need to find out if Mabel was here on the day she died and move on. "No, he's not. Mr. Clarkeson is gone. He went out of town. Do you want to talk to Jane?" the clerk says. "That would be great." The clerk smiles, seemingly pleased that he can help me. As he scurries off to find Jane, whoever she is, he begins muttering under his breath. I can barely hear what he's saying. He's clearly a special needs individual and it's good that he's found a store that will hire him, allowing him to make a contribution to society. 1:30 in the afternoon Back at the hotel room It turns out Jane is Mr. Clarkeson's daughter. She does the books and watches the store when Mr. Clarkeson's not there. Although she was not at the store the day Mabel disappeared, she said I could take the most recent receipt book, which might be helpful. It's one of those old- fashioned receipt books where the original receipt is given to the customer and a carbon copy stays in the book. At least having the book will allow me to see if Mabel had purchased anything at the store the day she disappeared. I probably could just have looked at the book there in the store, but I didn't want to be rushed and you can never tell what other information that book might hold. I settle myself in to review what I've got on this case. I briefly consider combing through the receipt book, but dismiss the idea. It won't take long enough. I'm really tired and need something juicy to keep me awake. I check my e-mail to see if Scully has sent me her autopsy reports yet. I doubt that she's had a chance to write them up yet, but they would be the perfect thing for me to look at right now. In fact, as I review what else I could do, the only thing that is even a little bit appealing is reading those autopsy reports. I lightly tap on the connecting door to Scully's room. No answer. Maybe she's doing her own research. I crack the door a little. Nope. I scan the room and quickly see that she is napping. She's in bed and I can barely see her body under all the covers she's got piled on herself. I can see her face, though. She is so pretty. She has a little smile on her face. I briefly consider climbing into bed with her but quickly dismiss the idea. I want Scully to get some good rest and I don't imagine she would be able to if she happen to wake up and found me in the bed with her. Hopefully sometime soon, she will be pleased to have me there, but I want her to make that choice, not me. I very quietly close the connecting door and realize I'm exhausted. It's not all that often that I have to admit defeat and rest, but I think this is one of those times. Seeing Scully sleeping so peacefully has made me dead tired. As I take my clothes off and slip under the covers, I feel a little like a slacker. I'm a highly paid federal employee and I'm going to sleep at two o'clock in the afternoon on a workday. Kersh would be so proud of me. As I slip into sleep, I try to imagine what Scully is dreaming about, but all I can come up with is pictures of us, doing the nasty. Chapter 12 Doubletree Hotel 6:00 p.m. "Mmmmmmm... Scully... yeah, uh huh... right there... oh, you're ticklish... well... whoa... mmm... no that feels... oh God that feels... where did you learn that?!" "Mulder!" Knock! Knock! Knock! What is that? Who's calling me? I should find out. No, I don't want to. Back to naked Scully whose head is in my lap, licking, swirling her tongue... mmmmm... yeah, just like that... ohhhhh.... "Mulder! I said wake up!" I sit up quickly. Where am I? Why does Scully have pajamas on? Why is she looking at me with the sexy grin? Why is she fully clothed and sitting on top of the covers? Oh, hell, it was just a dream. Scully's here in front of me, telling me to wake up. I brush my hand through my hair and flop back down on the bed. "Good dream, huh, Mulder?" she whispers. If she only knew the half of it. Of course, I have a considerable tent in the blankets, so if she were to look down a little, she'll have an idea of the quality of my dream. "The best," I sigh, trying to casually rearrange the blankets to hide how good it was. Actually, maybe I should just flip the covers off and let her see how good the dream was. I picture that in my mind and decide against it. She smiles and tilts her head shyly. I wonder why she woke me up. "Mulder, I had a great nap and I'm really glad to see that you've finally slept." She pats my arm. "But how about we shower and go get something to eat. My treat. I think we need to talk." There isn't a hint of trepidation in her voice and I've catalogued all of her tones. She seems a bit nervous but there's something else as well... she seems excited. Finally, my life is taking a turn for the better. "So, do you want to shower alone or together?" I venture with a smile. "Muuuulllllddddeeerrrrrr!" she cries out, exasperated. She laughs and starts to retreat off the bed. I quickly grip her waist to keep her from leaving. As she turns her head to question my response, I swoop in for a quick, hard kiss. She returns it tentatively at first but soon starts moving her lips against mine. I want to keep kissing her, but know now is not the time. I regretfully let her go. I don't want her to think that's the only thing on my mind, even though it kind of is. This is the most important relationship I've ever had and it's finally moving forward. I don't want to scare her off before it starts. She looks at me with hazy half-open eyes and sighs. "Okay, Scully, you can go. Wanna meet up in say..." I look at the clock trying to gage the amount of time she'll need. "...in forty-five minutes at seven o'clock. Your place..." My joke earns me a tiny laugh as she gets up and goes through the connecting door, shutting it tightly. **** When I got to Scully's room a minute ago she looked great. She is wearing a simple dark blue dress. It's not something she would have had to pack for the case. She would have packed it only if she anticipated going out on a date. A date with me. The thought thrills me. We arrive at the restaurant and Scully gives our names as the Hales. I smile at the reference. She obviously made reservations much earlier in the day. The restaurant is packed but we're shown to our table right away. When we get to our table, I pull out Scully's chair for her and she sits down, smiling at me. "So, this is a nice place," I say after we sit down. I immediately chastise myself. What the hell kind of small talk is that? I should be able to come up with something better than that. "You mean for being attached to a hotel?" She looks around at the room. "I checked it out in the hotel information binder." She picked up her menu and started to page through it, and I do the same. "It's four stars from what it says. Mike mentioned to me that the food was good, too. He and Mary ate here when they were attending a wedding a few months ago." I notice she's skimming the wine list. I hope she orders a glass. It will help relax her. "Mike's nice, isn't he? I've actually enjoyed getting to see him again," I say, deciding that I'm only going to have iced tea. I don't drink much and tonight is not the night to start. "Yes, he is." She flips her menu to the entrees again. "Although he's a bit nosey. Considering how reserved you are socially, I'm surprised you two were the good friends he suggests you were." She looks at me like she does when she wants me to tell the whole truth, not just the sanitized truth I normally tell her. She's on to me. She looks back down at her menu and continues. "He did mention that he introduced you to your ex-wife, that you both were actually family for that year." Great, he told her the exact thing I didn't want him to tell her. Things are going swimmingly for me here. "Why didn't you mention that to me?" She closes her menu with finality and looks at me steadily, awaiting my answer. "Uh, well, I have been kind of busy. When did you want me to tell you? When we were in front of Mabel's corpse" I flip to the next page of the menu. "Or when we were standing in front of Martin's?" I say, trying to be casual. She's caught me in an omission again and the best I can do is try to deflect it with the investigation. "I understand that this conversation is hard for you." She takes a sip of water. "Do you think it's easy for me?" No, of course it's not. I shake my head no. "Mulder, we admitted to one another that we love each other." I try not to squirm in my seat. I'm immediately ashamed that I tried to glibly dismiss her. I can be such a moron. "That is something completely unknown to us and frankly, I'm concerned as to how we are going to adjust to this change." I'm paralyzed. My whole body has gone numb. I really wish we weren't having this conversation. And yet she's continuing. "If we really want to change, we're going to have to be more up front with each other." "We do want to change." Oh, God, why didn't I just tell her about Jenna when we were in that damned hotel room back in Oregon? "Or at least I do," I add weakly. I hope she says she agrees with me but when I pause, she doesn't say anything. I continue on. "I'm sorry I didn't try harder to tell you how Mike fit into the whole Jenna thing. Did he tell you it was his idea that I marry Jenna?" She shakes her head no. I'm encouraged that I've told her something she didn't already know. "He did. He convinced me it was the right thing to do. Looking back, I'm surprised that he had that much influence on me, but like I've said, I really wanted to fit in." I reach to pick up my water glass but notice to my horror that my hand is shaking, so I clench it in a fist and hope Scully didn't notice. "He did. I don't know why it's so hard for me to tell you about my past, Scully. It just is." The waitress chooses this minute to appear at our table. Thank God. This will give me a reprieve from Scully's wrath. We order quickly and Scully continues with her questioning. "So, Mike talked you into marrying his cousin?" Scully asks in a more disbelieving tone than had hoped for. I hate it when I'm telling the truth, the whole truth, and she won't believe me. "Why would someone do that Mulder?" I open my mouth, ready to defend my version of the truth, but she shakes her head and cuts me off. "Never mind, it doesn't matter right now." Good, finally something we agree on. "What matters is that we decide how we want to pursue this thing between us." Okay, this is good, she's moving forward. "If we decide to become intimate, how is this going to affect our partnership, Mulder?" Uh-oh. I've been assuming the intimacy was inevitable. Did she just say if? Not a good sign. "Have you even considered it?" "Of course, I've considered it," I lie. Scully gives me a stern look and I know she knows I'm lying. "Okay, Scully, maybe I haven't considered it like you have, but I don't think this is something we want to over- analyze." Over-analyzing this will most definitely not have the result I'm looking for. That may, in fact, kill me. I don't think she would like to hear that right now. She moves to respond and it's my turn to cut her off. "No, Scully, I'm serious about this. If we consider every single eventuality, we'll never get anywhere." The waitress brings our food, but now I'm not really hungry. "I'm sure there are going to be consequences I haven't considered, but there is one major consequence I have considered." I cut into my meat and hope she asks me what that that one consequence is. "Which is what, Mulder?" That's my Scully, always asking the perfect questions. "Scully, you are the only person I have ever loved." She looks at me doubtfully. "You are, Scully. I've known it for six years. It's not my fault I didn't know what love was before I met you, but it is your fault that I know what love is now." Does that make sense? I hope I said that right. I hope she can understand. She slowly nods affirmatively. Score! "Everybody already assumes we're doing it. We've been doing it in their heads for years. If you have any doubt about that, ask Mike." I say his name a little too derisively. I do like the guy, but were it not for him, Scully and I wouldn't be having this conversation. "He'll be able to fill you in on all the water cooler gossip." Scully is eating her blackened chicken, listening to my reasoning. She doesn't seem to be mad any more, so I continue. "If we take the next step, become intimate as you put it, I'm still going to be me and I'll still have trouble telling you some things about me. And you'll still be you. You'll still doubt the truth when I do tell you the truth." She looks up quickly, but instead of anger, I see a hint of sadness. "We're still going to be who we are, Scully. Moving forward with our relationship isn't going to change that." She puts her knife and fork down and carefully considers how to respond. "Mulder, I don't want you to think that I don't want this, because I do." All the residual numbness leaves my body. I needed to hear her say that more than she will ever probably know. "I love you and I would like to have a normal relationship with you, but that isn't us." I disagree with her - I think we can have a normal relationship - but I bite my tongue and let her continue. "We are not in the same position the average couple is in." She can say that again. The average couple would have resolved all this five and a half years ago. "We are partners. It concerns me to risk what we have because what we have is so important to me." I nod solemnly at her. Retaining what we have is important to me, too. "I don't know what I'd do if we lost that." She looks searchingly at me. She wants me to reassure her. Suddenly I realize I'm in control here and it surprises me. "We won't lose what we have, Scully, of that I'm sure. It's the one truth I know." A busboy begins clearing off our plates, but I barely notice him. "We have come this far and we share a connection that is so much deeper than the act itself. Making love to you won't change how I feel toward you. I can't possibly love you any more than I already do." As I say this, the busboy drops Scully's plate. He obviously knows he's listening to a conversation he shouldn't be listening to. To my surprise, Scully smiles at him and then at me. He's heard that we are a couple and the world hasn't imploded on itself. "Can you please excuse us and get our check?" Scully says kindly to the boy. I take that as a very, very good sign. "Mulder, you make it sound so easy. Aren't you the least bit afraid that it may not work out?" She wants this as much as I do but she's scared. The woman I thought wasn't afraid of anything is scared. "Nope, not in the least." I say confidently. "There is no doubt in my mind that making love to you is the last thing that would ever break us up. I think we are in more danger from not acting on our desire than we are from acting on it," I say, praying she will understand what I'm saying. "Mulder, you have a one track mind." She sounds irritated. What do I have to say to convince her to go up to my hotel room? I'm beginning to remember why I like my video collection so much. "I was referring to the relationship not working out in general." Oh, that. "I meant that if we attempted this and we find later that we shouldn't have, it will ruin what we have now." I shake my head no. Why won't she just believe? "I'm not at all concerned about the physical portion. I've wanted you for years." Years? I'll have to ask her about that later. "Don't you see, Scully? We already have the relationship. We already seek each other out for comfort. We already know what the other is thinking without saying anything. The only aspect of the relationship that we don't have is the intimacy. It's not that I have a one track mind." That comment bothered me and I can hear that the hurt has seeped out in my voice. "I want to share that aspect of myself with you. I haven't been able to before now. But, besides physical intimacy I want to share everything with you. I want to know more about your growing up, college, medical school, your friends." Scully picks up the check and places her credit card in the little pocket. I must be getting through to her so I continue. "I don't even know who your best friend before me was." Suddenly, knowing that is one of the most important things I want Scully to share with me. Not THE most important thing, of course, but one of them. "But I think we have time for all of that. Us becoming a couple changes everything and it changes nothing." I hope she understand now. "Maybe I do over-analyze things," she says and I succeed in squelching my impulse to nod. I don't think agreeing with her on that point would help my cause. "It's just... this is so important." I do nod at that. This is the most important thing ever. "We'll have to have ground rules of course." Oh, no. Ground rules. I don't do well with those. "Can we work those out later, Scully?" I ask, knowing it's not going to be that easy. "Mulder, this is serious and non-negotiable." I nod again, but I'm having trouble being serious at this point. "There is to be no romance." No romance? I want there to be romance. I look at her, puzzled. "I repeat, no romance at the office." Oh, at the office, I can do that. I nod and she continues. "We're going to have to keep this pretty quiet." I don't think I'll have a problem not telling people about the new aspect of our relationship. I've never been one to share. "We don't want to run the risk of being separated, do we?" I vehemently shake my head. No, we most definitely do not want that. "I don't have a problem with any of those rules." I say quickly. "What else do we need to do before we go upstairs?" I say. I'm so excited right now. She doesn't have any rules I hadn't already planned to adhere to. "Have you drawn up a contract stipulating those conditions, Scully?" I joke, half expecting her to pull a document out of her bag. "Nope, but that's a thought." She looks like she's seriously considering the idea, but I know she's playing. "I think you can be trusted." She nods approvingly at me and pushes back her chair. "Right now, you should be concerned." I freeze as I'm getting out of my chair. What the hell? "Concerned? Why? I don't want to be concerned." I look at her and she is smiling teasingly at me. "I want to get lucky," I remind her. "Concerned, Mulder, because you have no idea what you've just gotten yourself into, or will be into shortly, that is," she replies coyly. I smile broadly. "Oh, I think I have some idea. I'm not concerned." We laugh and it feels so good to just be able to laugh with her. I'm not sure I'll be able to survive the rest. She takes my hand and we walk swiftly out of the restaurant and head toward the elevators. I have no doubt that most people who see us are guessing what we're about to do and I don't care what they think. And at this instant, neither does Scully. *** My entire body is tingling. I can't wait to take this step with Mulder. Finally, we are going to consummate what was started almost six years ago on a dark, wet night in an Oregon hotel. It's only fitting that when we take this final step we'd be in another hotel. We step inside the elevator still holding hands. I swear I'd jump him right here if the elevator wasn't full of people heading up to the rooftop bar. I don't dare look at him for fear that it won't matter to him whether or not we have an audience. His fingers are tightly holding mine. His body is barely brushing up against the side of my body. I can feel the heat of him through my dress. I look up at the climbing numbers and realize that we have a stop scheduled on just about every floor. Mulder and I are on the ninth floor and we're only at three now. He lets go of my hand and sidles up more fully behind me. Before I can question the loss of his touch, he encircles my hips with both of his large hands. I can tell that he's trying to compose himself but the close proximity of our bodies in full arousal is taking its toll. I feel his pain, it mirrors my own. We finally get to the ninth floor. Mulder ushers me ahead and through the rest of our elevator companions. Home free! Finally. He puts his right arm around my waist, moving us forward down the hall and to our rooms. He's pulling his keycard from the pocket of his jacket as he walks. I venture a look at his face. His jaw is set and he's got his full determination set on his room with no thoughts of unhooking his arm from the death grip he's got on me. I watch him as I let him lead me down the hall. We reach his room and he inserts the keycard. The light on the unit goes from red to green in a few seconds and we're in. He ushers me ahead of him and no sooner than I can turn around, he's got his hands on my cheeks and his lips on top of mine. I can barely breathe but I don't care. If I die now I'll die a very happy woman. His hands are everywhere, sliding up and down my back and hips. Before I can suggest moving this to the bed, he's got me up against the desk next to the door of the room. He's pushed the chair out of the way, never leaving my lips for even a moment. His hands go down and around my ass, lifting my dress to crunch up at my waist. The cold air in the room immediately chills my overheated skin. I'm not worried; he'll warm me up again. Finally he breaks away from my mouth and I can breathe. "Oh God, Mulder." Was that me that just sounded so wanton? With little time for me to adjust, his hands are already squeezing my ass. In no more than a moment, his hands have moved down to my thighs and are lifting me from the ground. Small finger sized bruises on my thighs will be a nice little reminder later. No pain no gain, and there's so much too gain. I land with a thud on the top of the desk. I understand his goal immediately and take the brief pause to yank his jacket from his arms and let it drop to the ground. He's standing in between my legs with his hands cupping my thighs to his waist. His breaths are coming in short, harsh pants. I look up into his eyes as I undo the tie from around his neck. This is a picture of my partner I never expected to see although I've imagined it a hundred times. The only word to describe it would be...feral. His eyes are boring through mine. They are no longer hazel but a fierce black, dilated completely. He licks his kiss-swollen lips as I complete my task of removing his tie and move on to his belt buckle. He's watching my face as I perform my task without looking. I can't help but cup my hand around the considerable bulge protruding from his pants. His eyes close, his head tilts back and his pouty lips emit one word... "Scuuullllyyyyy." That sound sets off something in me I have never known. In swift movements, my fingers scale his chest and with more force than I intended, I rip his shirt wide open. I don't care to be sweet and innocent. I need to ravish and be ravished. His head swings back down, looking at me, surprised. He grips my ass tighter and pushes himself directly into my spread legs, opening them more fully to his body. Warmth spreads throughout me. I lift my mouth to his neck and take my time licking and kissing what has so long been denied me. I will taste him and mark him tonight as mine. There is no going back, that isn't even a possibility. We were meant to be with one another. Nothing and nobody can even remotely compare to him. He slides his hands up my dress, gently gripping both of my breasts. He doesn't move to take the dress off - instead, he slips the scoop neckline down, exposing my bra-encased breasts. He makes maddening swipes with his fingertips over my hardened nipples. The sensation makes me tighten my thighs around him. I pull down the zipper of his pants. His mouth makes its way down my neck. He cups my right breast and eases it free of its temporary home. Every nerve ending in my body seems to be centered on that nipple, awaiting the pleasure that it's sure to receive. Seconds pass, even though they feel like hours, and with a mumble of, "Beautiful, my beautiful...," his mouth is on me. Heaven. Pure, wet, hot heaven. His tongue swirls around the tip and then softly tugs. I arch my breast closer to him, wanting and needed to merge our bodies. His right hand leaves my breast and skims up my thighs. Goose bumps follow the path his hand travels. He reaches the top of my stocking and smiles around my other breast, flicking its peak with the tip of his tongue. His right hand continues its journey past my hip and to my waist. My thoughts have moved away from my breast and are now completed focused on that hand. He doesn't let me down. He curves his hand and tenderly touches the skin just above my panties and just beneath my belly button. He's tentative at first, until I surge my hips forward seeking more of his touch. He slips his hand underneath my panties and slides his fingers down, fully cupping my sex. The heel of his hand is crushing my clit, causing me to moan loudly. He takes that as encouragement, slipping his index finger within my body. "Aaaaahhhhhhhhh," I moan. "Jesus, Scully," he pants into my breast. Nope, he hasn't left the temple he's worshiping. His finger caresses me a little harder, slipping his middle finger in to join the first. His mouth leaves my breast with an audible plop and his lips trail up my neck and surround my ear. "You are sooooo ready," he whispers. "I've always been ready for you Mulder, only you," I pant out as his fingers pick up the pace. His face hovers over mine as his fingers plunder my center perfectly. I can feel his breath intermingling with my open mouth. I've closed my eyes and am focusing on his curving fingers expertly touching the spot that makes me scream, while the heel of his hand pushes in counterpoint against my throbbing clit. I'm so close... my breath is hitching, my hips are swirling in conjunction with his hand moving in and out of me, mimicking what I most want to do with him. I'm about to go over the edge when his hand retreats from within my panties. I open my eyes in a flash. He lowers his mouth to take a long drink from mine, swirling his deft tongue across mine. I'm trying very hard not to whine. "Mulllllddddeeerrrr..." I lift my hips against his. "Why did you stop, I was so close...." Okay, I'm pouting against his neck, shifting my head back and forth against his skin. He grips the edge of my dress and lifts it over my head. I'm in my black bra - with one breast left out in the open to pucker against the cold - and my soaked matching panties with black thigh high stockings. I slip his shirt off his shoulders, leaving him still in his pants, unbuttoned and unzipped. I can see his boxers peeking out. I don't know when he was able to get his shoes off but they're underneath the desk I'm sitting on. I'm still awaiting his answer even though it's been a second since I asked it. He grips my body to his and lifts me off the desk, carrying me over to the bed. My legs tighten around his waist instinctively as he lowers us down onto the mattress. He's perfectly settled with the confines of my thighs. "I stopped because I want taste you," he mutters out between his heavy breaths. Oh, my God. Before I've finished the thought, his pants are off and his hands are pulling the edges of my panties down my hips. I lift my ass up as he slides them down and off. His hands return to the edges of my stockings. He slowly removes them both, stopping to kiss and stroke each new piece of exposed skin. His kisses are like that of angels. So light, barely there. It's enough to tease me a little. I love it. His hands slither up my legs again. Once they reach the juncture between my thighs, he parts them more fully. I'm a bit nervous but I can tell this is a trust thing with him. He's watching my eyes as he parts my legs ever so slowly, exposing my center to him completely. He leans down, his eyes never leaving mine. I lift up onto my elbows so I can see the moment it happens. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. His mouth drops open and he licks those lips again. The notion spreads more warmth throughout my body. His eyes open minutely. His eyes lock with mine as he takes a long swipe against me with the flat of his tongue. It's too much. I think I could come just from watching his mouth hovering over me. My head flops back down on the bed. His tongue takes a few more long swipes like he's licking a dripping ice cream cone on a really hot day. His fingers move over the insides of my thighs and part me so his tongue can completely taste what he wants. His hot wet tongue plunders inside me. After a few tastes, he lifts his mouth from me. His hands go around my ass, tilting my pelvis at a better angle for his ministrations. He's mumbling again. I can barely hear the last part through my haze of pleasure but it can't be mistaken... "Mine, all mine now," he says right before he fully goes to work on me. His mouth licks, bites, swirls around my aching sex. I'm moaning constantly while he takes me closer and closer to the summit. The texture of his tongue stimulates me unlike anything I've ever felt before. I'm so aware of him. My entire body is a-tingle. I gyrate my hips along with the movement of his mouth. I'm trying so hard not to buck into his face when that's all my body wants to do. I can hear him talking to me... "Let go... Oh, God, Scully, I want it." With those words, he covers my bundle of nerves and sucks hard. My hands fly into his hair, keeping him to me as I buck uncontrollably into him. He's riding the wave with me. He doesn't let up until I fall back to the mattress as a boneless heap of tissue and muscle. He crawls up my body, kissing and licking different parts. He unclasps the back of my bra and I part my legs to fit him between them. "Oh God, Mulder, please... I need you inside of me... now... please." I'm desperate to have him. He looks me directly in the eyes. "There's nothing in the world I want more," and with that, he enters me. Oh God, he's huge. My little body is not accustomed to his much bigger one. Slowly at first, he slides most of the way in. The lubrication from my earlier orgasm makes it comfortable as he settles completely into me. I have never felt so complete. My body aches for him. "I love you," I whisper to him as he begins to move within me. "I love you more," is the last coherent thing I can remember. Nothing else exists besides our bodies merging into one like God intended when he created our species. His pace speeds up. He's moaning constantly between deep, wet kisses. I lift my legs higher and he takes the hint, reaching down and lifting both of my thighs up around his arms. "Oh Mulder, mmmm... more... I need more of you...." He answers my request by reaching his hands farther down to my ass and lifting his body onto his forearms, pushes his pelvis into me with all of the force of his large body. "Oh Yessssss... ohhhhh... ooooohhhhh... Yeeeesssss," I pant as his length repeatedly bumps up against my cervix. I look into his face and can see he's holding back his own pleasure for mine. He's so beautiful. His face is held tightly in a grimace, his mouth hovering no more than a couple inches over mine and his eyes squeezed tightly together. "Oh Mulder, let go for me... let go for me this time," I whisper soothingly into his ear. I stick my tongue out and twirl it around the edge of his tender cartilage. He grunts in appreciation. "Not... without you... Scully... always... with... you." And with that he slips his right hand between us, finding my engorged and abused clit with two of his fingers and rubbing it in furious, tight little circles. The pressure of his fingers is unbelievable. Within a couple of seconds I'm flying over the edge, him right on my heels. His fluids rush into me, coating me from within... "Scccccuuuuuullllllllllyyyyyy... uuuhhhhhh... yeeeeeeaaaaahhhhh... uhhhhhh... oooooohhhhhhh... Gaaaawwwwddddd!" "Mullll... ooohhhh... Muuuulllldddderrrrr!" I scream out to the heavens or anyone that can hear us. His body rests on top of me, a little sweaty but sated. I grip him to me, not at all willing to let him roll over yet. I want to feel the pressure of his body pushing me into the mattress, completely safe and secure. After a couple of minutes, our breathing has become easy and our bodies have cooled. He lifts his head from my neck and kisses me for a long time. I'm not sure how long. I only know that when his tongue is in my mouth, I don't care how much time has passed. Once he has completed his kisses, he moves his body to the side, rolling and pulling me on top of his chest. He grips the blankets with his toes and brings it up to his hand, lifting it over our entwined bodies. His hands make long swipes across my back. We do not talk. There's no need. We both know there's nothing that will come between us with this new aspect of our relationship. This is what life is all about; time spent with the one you love. I kiss his chest above his heart then put my ear directly over the beating. Within minutes the beat of his heart has lulled me to sleep. CHAPTER 13 As I slowly come awake, I notice that something is different, very different. At first, I can't place what it is, but as I awake more fully, it dawns on me. I feel complete. And that's when I feel it, the thing that woke me up. Scully is kissing my chest gently. I know it's her even before I open my eyes. I smile as I open my eyes slowly. I pull her tighter to me and she rests her head on my chest. She looks up at me and simply says, "Hi." She seems shy, and oddly, so do I. There are a million things I want to say to her to convey how much I love her, but all I can manage to get out is "Hi" back to her. We spend several seconds lying together, and then begin exploring each other again. Hands caressing, skimming up and over each other. "Morning. How'd you sleep?" Scully asks gently. "I slept so well, Scully. I don't think I've ever slept better. I feel so ..." I pause before telling her how I feel. I hope it doesn't sound like a cliché. I want to be original, but there's only one word that fits, so I begin again. "I feel so complete." "I know what you mean," she says as she drags her naked form across the top of mine. Her face leans in and her lips meet mine. We kiss slowly at first, increasing the intensity as our emotions get swept away in the moment. I slide my hands down and cup the cheeks of her ass. She moans into my mouth. "Scully, please tell me I'll be waking up like this for the rest of my life," I jokingly plead as I squeeze her form more tightly against mine. She giggles. Yes, Scully giggles. She settles her body on top of mine, straddling me exactly where I want her to. I surprise her by rolling her under me quickly, kissing her deeply. I move a leg between hers and spread her legs apart, allowing my body to nestle in between her thighs. I start lavishing her neck with open-mouthed kisses. I slide my hand down to her center and ... BBBBBRRRRRLLLLLIIIIINNNNNGGGGGGGG!!! Oh, for Christ's sake. What the hell? I hate the phone. "Fuck!" Scully says as she reaches over to answer the phone. I move to answer the phone myself, but Scully is too quick. "Scully," she says curtly into the phone. This is my hotel room. It's 8:15 in the morning. She should not be answering the phone. I can't believe she's broken a rule that even I'm flipping out about. Maybe it will just be the front desk asking us how our stay is. Please don't let it be anyone from the bureau. "Assistant Director Kersh ..." Fuck. Kersh. This is bad. "Nope, this is my room, not Agent Mulder's." How could I have doubted Scully? I smile and kiss her breast appreciatively. She waves me away and continues her lie. "He's in the next room over. 101, I'm 102. The front desk must have mixed them up. What can I do for you?" I lean over and whisper in her ear, "We'll continue this later." She smiles and turns to kiss me lightly on the lips. I can hear Kersh on the other end of the phone demanding a status update on what we've accomplished. I suppose we should accomplish something today, even though all I really want to do is enjoy Scully's body. There's always tonight, I guess. I gather my clothes and head towards the bathroom, confident that Scully will be able to fend Kersh off. I shower quickly and throw on a fresh pair of boxers just as Scully hangs up with Kersh. She seems almost pleased that we almost got caught. Well, that certainly is an interesting side to Scully I would not have guessed. I tuck that tidbit away to explore later. "What did he want?" I ask. I hate Kersh. "He wanted to know why he hasn't heard any reports of your bizarre behavior. He was concerned we weren't actually working. He was afraid we were just cavorting by the hotel pool." She smiles at me. I toss her a quick grin but this is serious. "What did you tell him?" "I told him, Mulder, that we are investigating what is now two murders and are using this morning to review evidence here at the hotel before continuing our investigation." She's serious now, too. "So, I am going to go take a shower while you look through the evidence." "Are you sure you don't need any help?" I call as she's just about to the connecting door. "I could wash your back for you." She turns around and looks at me with a sexy pout. "Maybe later, Mulder," she says and turns back around, going through the door. I'm elated to see that she left the door between our rooms wide open. Before- well, before last night, she would have closed it completely. I pull the tie and jacket I want from my closet. I grab my shoes and socks and put them on. I hear the shower in the other room come on. Settling into the desk - yes, the desk I had Scully on top of just last night - I pull the receipt book out from under the torn dress shirt lying on the floor. The memory makes little Mulder stir. I hate Kersh. If it weren't for him, I'd be hearing Dana Scully call out to the Gods after I repeatedly sank into her. Man, I've got to stop torturing myself. Scully and I need to work. We need to be able to focus on the case and not let what's changing between us effect our thoughts so much. At least now I don't have to wonder what it's like to have her. I did have her and after knowing what's it like ... there's no way I can ever go back to just being friends. I don't think she could either. I open the receipt book and working my way backwards, start to review all of the purchases. Skimming through each name, I come upon M. Banbury. It looks like he purchased hay and had it delivered on September 20. In small writing under the amount paid it says, "Ordered by phone, have delivered, send Jimmy." Didn't the guy I spoke to say he makes deliveries? I'll check on that later. I continue skimming until I come to the most recent receipt for M. O'Rourke. She bought apple treats. Checking the date on the receipt confirms what Mrs. O'Rourke said about Mabel visiting the feed store. This means that she was abducted after she visited the store and before making it to the stable. I continue through the book and see several purchases by Mabel for things relating to taking care of a horse. She was a regular at the feed store. I also notice Martin's name in here ordering hay to be delivered. Closer to the beginning of the book I find one receipt for Hazel Vincent. Apparently, she ordered hay to be delivered to Sunset Knoll Farms. Interesting. I just barely close the book as Scully appears in the connecting doorway. She's beautiful. Her suit hugs all of her curves perfectly. Now that I've been up close and personal with those curves the suit looks even better. "Mulder, you're staring and you're not listening." Oops. I really need to focus. Maybe if I have just one more kiss I can make it through the day. "I asked if you came up with anything," she says exasperatedly. "Sorry, Scully. You just look good in that suit. Are you sure you should be wearing that out in the field?" I tease her. She rolls her eyes and moves to sit on the bed across from me. "I've had this suit for years and you've never said anything about it before." "Well, that was before I saw what was underneath it." A blush creeps over her face. I move over to her and lean down, grasping her face quickly. I kiss her lightly. She hesitates only a second before assaulting me with her own mouth. We kiss for a minute and then she pulls away. "Mulder, we need to work." She's serious. "We can't let this," her hand gestures from me to her, "come between us and our work." I understand where she's coming from. I just wish we had more time to visit this change between us. I guess it's only fitting that we'd be on a case when the change happened. "I know, Scully, and I agree with you. But when we get home, we're going to take at least an entire weekend - just you and me, doing all the things we never have the time to do." It's amazing what one night with her has done for my perspective of a life outside work. "So then you don't want to stay in bed for the entire weekend ..." she laughs. "Or we could do that," I agree with her. She lightly kisses me, which I take as a handshake, closing a deal. "So what did you find?" That was the end of that. I explaine the similarities I'd found between the victims and the feed store. I even add that I have found a receipt for Hazel Vincent, the hit and run victim. She reminds me that we are not investigating the other two deaths and I rebut that I'm not convinced they aren't connected. We leave the hotel, heading for the station to meet up with Mike. He is visiting Martin Banbury's house this morning and I want to research the other two victims in the FBI database. *** Modesto FBI field office. 9:30 a.m. Mike isn't here so I use his desk to start my research. Scully sits in the empty desk next to Mike's. She pulls out her laptop and starts reviewing her notes from the autopsies. She's said she's going to check with the lab on the results for both victims and compare them to her findings. I flip on Mike's computer and start to work. Pulling up Hazel Vincent in the FBI database doesn't bring up anything. I tap in Harry Patterson and it brings up a variety of items. I'm not surprised to find that Mr. Patterson was a U.S. veteran. He had been dismissed from duty due to injuries in combat. His legs had taken the brunt of the injuries. His last known address was in the database but showed him living in the Bay area about forty miles away. Scrolling down the list of items I see an arrest for loitering. Charges were made by one Mr. Clarkeson from Clarkeson Feed and Seed. Charges were later dropped provided Mr. Patterson promised not to return to the store. Which he never did, I think to myself. I look at my watch. I've done twenty solid minutes of work. That's pretty good for me. I pull out a bag of sunflower seeds and start munching on them. This is going to be a long day of deskwork and I don't like it any more in the field than I do in Washington. I look at my watch again. In a scant seven hours and ten minutes, we'll be done with work. Hopefully, we'll be closer to finding the killer by then. I consider what I can do to achieve that goal and decide I can write up the results of my visit to the feed store yesterday. I look at my watch again (seven hours and eight minutes now) and start typing. *Twenty-four hours ago, I was at the feed store. Twenty hours ago, I was taking a nap. Sixteen hours ago, Scully woke me up and we went to dinner. We talked about rules for such a long time that it wasn't until fourteen hours ago that were where able to go up to my room and* I shake my head and stop typing. Oh, man. This is going to be a bitch of a report to write. I need to do something else. I look around the desk for something productive to do. It's not my desk, so that doesn't help. I look in my briefcase and pull out the receipt book. I could make copies of it, and return it this afternoon. That will be perfect. Maybe when I get back, I'll be able to concentrate on the report more fully. I find the copy machine and after four tries, I finally get the page lined up right and the paper to go through without jamming. Seriously, why do they have to make copy machines so hard to use? I collect my copies and look at my watch. Copying took twenty minutes. That means I'm twenty minutes closer to going back to the room with Scully, but twenty minutes farther away from catching the killer. Okay, really, I need to focus. I'm always able to concentrate on a case. There's a killer out there that we need to catch. I look over at Scully. She's not having any trouble focusing. That is so typical. Somehow, I'm disappointed that last night is not distracting her nearly as much as it is me. I look at my watch and sigh. Well, at least we're less than seven hours away now. I reluctantly delete what I've written and continue the report on my visit. *The clerk stated that he made a delivery to a man later determined to be Martin Banbury the day that he died.* The clerk! I almost forgot that I need to check up on that lead. How could that have happened? I remember everything. I shake my head and resolve to concentrate on the case and not Scully. The sooner we resolve this the sooner we can get back to Washington and our new life together. Wait, we've slept together once and already I have us planning a life together. Okay, I'll examine that later. Right now, I have a job to do. I pick up the phone. "Hello, Clarkeson's," a woman answers. I wonder if it's the same woman I talked to yesterday. "How may I help you?" "Hi, this is Fox Mulder. I was in yesterday and talked to a clerk about some fish. I was wondering if I could talk with him a minute." "You talked to someone yesterday?" She pauses. "Oh, that would be Jimmy Jones. I'm sorry, he's not around. He went to help a customer unload a bunch of saddles. Could I take a message?" she offers helpfully. "Uh, no, that's alright. I'll try back later." I hang up the phone. That didn't pan out. I just can't shake the feeling that the feed store is key to this case. Maybe coffee will help me think. "Hey, Scully." I haven't talked to her since we got here. "I was going to go get some coffee, you want some?" "No, Mulder, I don't." Uh-oh, she sounds irritated. She picks up the cardboard cup of coffee we purchased at Starbucks on the way in and waggles it. "We just got here and I'm not finished with the cup I have." She turns back to her computer focusing her attention on her autopsy reports. I grab a couple more sunflower seeds and decide to finish up my own report. I write a couple more paragraphs about meeting with Jane Clarkeson and what I found in the receipt book. I close the file and look at my watch. Somehow I was able to stretch out the time it took me to write those couple of paragraphs so that it is now 11:15. My, my, time does fly. Five hours, forty-five minutes left to go. I pull up the autopsy report Scully finished on Mabel O'Rourke. I've already read it, but maybe I missed something before. I settle back in Mike's chair and look at the line drawing representing Mabel's dead body. Really, what I need to be doing is profiling the killer. I don't feel like I'm any closer to knowing him now than I was two days ago. So I stare at Scully's handwriting outlining Mabel's injuries and go over what I know about the killer. He's a male. They are almost always male, so in the absence of any evidence to the contrary, he's probably male. He is strong. It took strength to do what he did. He had access to a barn, probably a two-story barn. I haven't really explored that aspect. I pull out the list we were given by Chief Randall of two-story barns in the area. Maybe this will have something. I glance through and look at the names. Interesting, one of the barns is owned by Dale Jones. Jones, like the clerk at the feed store. The feed store that is in at least some way connected to each of the four victims. The only problem is that Jones is an incredibly common name. Maybe there's not even a connection. I write the address down anyway. Maybe I'll just take a peek this afternoon. It can't hurt and I can't stand the thought of staying cooped up in the office for the entire afternoon. I look at my watch. 11:45. Oh, hey, it's almost time for lunch. Scully won't be able to turn down lunch with me. We're allowed to eat, after all. Plus, the sooner I eat lunch, the sooner I'll be able to get going and the sooner I'll be able to figure out who the perpetrator is. Hopefully. "Hey, Scully you want to break for ..." I start before I feel a hand clap me on the back. "Lunch," Mike finishes for me. God bless that Mike, I think dryly. His timing couldn't be worse. And he has a sack of sandwiches. What a pal. "Mmm, sandwiches, I'm starving. Thanks, Mike." Scully smiles at him as Mike hands her one. Hey, what am I? Chopped liver? I was going to suggest we break for lunch. Doesn't that count for something? "So, have you guys come up with anything?" Mike asks while handing me a turkey sandwich. Maybe I don't want a turkey sandwich. Didn't he even consider that? "Well," Scully begins, after swallowing a bite of her sandwich. "I've been finalizing my autopsy report from the Banbury case. Mulder, what have you worked on all morning?" she asks. If I didn't know better, I would think our relationship is the exact same as it was yesterday at this time. I know we aren't supposed to act any different at work, but I think she's being colder to me, not warmer. What the hell? She was plenty warm to me this morning, even while she was talking to Kersh. "I've written my report and have been working on my profile of the killer," I tell her. I don't tell her I've also thought about her and about last night. I don't think I'm supposed to be doing that at work. Apparently, since we've gotten to the office, she hasn't given it a second thought. Which sucks. "Are you any closer to finding the guy?" Mike asks. "Uh, I think I have an idea of who might have done it," I lie. I have no idea who might have done all four murders. Although that clerk might be connected somehow. "I think I'm going to investigate some leads this afternoon." "Really?" Scully asks quickly. "Do you want me to come along?" Oh, man, do I. Actually, though, maybe I'll be able to focus better if she stays here. If she comes she'll probably be At Work Scully, not Mulder I Love You Scully and right now At Work Scully is kind of annoying me. "No, I think I should go by myself. Do you have enough here to keep you busy?" I'll bet she does. She's always busy with something. "Yeah, I actually wanted to go over the autopsy reports of those two victims from the summer and that could take me all afternoon," Scully says. See, I knew it. "I thought those were completely separate from these two cases. Do you really think there's a connection?" Mike asks Scully. "Well, Mulder thinks there might be, so they are worth investigating as part of this case," she says matter-of-factly. I can't help but smile. That's my Scully, blindly following me even when I'm blind myself. Scully sees my smile and gives me a stern look when Mike isn't looking. "Well, guys, I better get going, I want to get started following up on these leads. Mike, thanks a lot for lunch. Scully, maybe we can catch up for dinner or something later." The scowl she gave me was priceless. I knew we were relatively safe around Mike and I couldn't resist saying something. I grab a couple things off Mike's desk and I smile all the way to my car. *** I'm pretty happy as I get in the car. I'm free of the confines of the office and especially of Scully's silence. I don't know what I expected our first day at work to be like after we did what we did, but it certainly did not include her completely shutting me out. She wouldn't even get coffee with me. We usually spend our mornings on a case with a bunch of light-hearted witty banter that I usually lace with innuendo. After last night, it just felt different. But now I'm free of her for the afternoon. I'm pretty sure it annoyed her that I left without her and that makes me feel better, actually. Let her be as ticked off as I am. Plus, I am going to do some things this afternoon she would never approve of. For some reason, she thinks it improper to wander around private property without a search warrant. Okay, well, there are laws against that sort of investigative detail, but how else would we have the solve rate we have? I pull into Clarkeson's Feed and Seed. I grab the receipt book and head inside. I'm going to be more focused today than I was yesterday. All the victims had a connection to this place and I need to find out what it is. I also really want to talk to that clerk again. He made deliveries to two of the victim's houses. I can't shake the feeling that he knows something. Jane Clarkeson smiles at me as I walk in. I was hoping her father would be back today, but that doesn't appear to be the case. "Agent Mulder, how can I help you today?" she says warmly to me. If Scully were here, she would be sending daggers in Jane's direction, or so I'd like to think. "I brought the receipt book back. I figure you need it to reconcile the books." Plus, it makes a good excuse for me to come back in here. "Oh, good, thank you. Was it helpful?" she asks. "Uh, yes, it was. Is Jimmy around? I have a couple of questions for him," I ask. "Jimmy?" Jane asks quickly. "What kind of questions do you have for Jimmy? He's just someone my father hired because he felt sorry for him." Jane seems very uncomfortable with my questioning Jimmy. "Oh, it's nothing, really. I was just hoping he was around today," I say. "He's helping one of our customers unload a bunch of new saddles we ordered for him. Actually," she looks at her watch, "I expected him back a while ago. He'll be back eventually with Mr. French." she says. "Mr. French?" I say, immediately thinking of the butler on Family Affair. Sam and I used to watch that show. "Mr. French ordered a dozen new saddles and he and Jimmy went to unload them. They'll be back eventually. Mr. French left his truck here." She points at a red Dodge Ram. "Maybe I'll try to catch up with them there. Do you happen to know exactly where they were going?" I ask. "To Mr. French's farm, on Valley Home Road. There's a sign out in front with the French flag on it. You can't miss it." Oh, I'll bet I could, considering my sense of direction. "Okay, I'm sure I'll find it. Just in case I don't, do you know where Jimmy lives?" "Actually, I'm not sure. I know he lives with his father but I'm not sure exactly where that is. You must really want to talk to him, huh? What on earth would you want with Jimmy?" she asks. Of course she doesn't know where he lives. "Is his father's name Dale?" I ask, hoping it is. "Why, yes it is. How did you know that?" She looks at me suspiciously. Doesn't she know the FBI knows everything? "Just a guess." I hand her my business card. "When Jimmy comes back, could you give me a call?" She agrees and I say goodbye. I decide to visit the French farm first. Maybe they are still unloading saddles. How many saddles could one farm order that would need two people to unload them? I look around at the farms I'm passing and decide that I really know nothing about farming. Maybe instead of living a normal life, Scully and I should become farmers. I could learn to be a farmer. I'm not sure if Scully could learn to be a farmer's wife, but it's kind of funny to think about. I picture myself dressed in overalls, plowing the field and Scully in a calico dress, making apple pies in the kitchen. I shake my head. No, that wouldn't work. We would never make it as farmers. I guess I'll go back to my fantasy of living in a normal house and having normal careers. Well, Scully would have a normal career. She would be a doctor. I would ... well, I don't know what I would do. I would be an at-home dad, actually. We would have a hundred kids and I would take care of them. The thought that Scully can't have children doesn't faze me. This is my fantasy and in it, I want to have a hundred uber-Scullys running around. I have to interrupt my daydreaming because I spot a farm with the French flag flying in front of it. Maybe I'm not so hopeless when it comes to directions. I'm not exactly sure why I'm here, but I do know that I want to find this guy Jimmy and this is the last place he was supposed to be. I look around the place and there is not a soul in sight. There are twelve saddles neatly piled up in the corner of the barn, so I know they must have been here already. No one comes to the door when I knock so I figure they must be en-route to the feed store so Mr. French can pick up his truck. That's actually a good thing because it allows me time to go over to the Jones farm and check that out. Eventually, Jane will call and say Jimmy has returned and I'll interview him at the feed store. I look at my watch. It's three o'clock. I'm still on schedule to be back on the hotel at five o'clock. As I drive up the road to Jimmy's house, I decide Scully and I still have communication problems. She has to talk to me during the day. That was horrible this morning. She wouldn't even go get coffee with me. Nobody would think anything of us getting coffee. In fact, it was probably obvious that something DID happen between us because we were trying so hard NOT to talk to each other. Good thing we were not in Washington because people there would have noticed the difference for sure. Then again, maybe it's just me. I look at the farms and notice that I am ruminating so much on Scully that I have missed the Jones Farm. I am already at 30N560 Valley Home Road and the Jones Farm was listed in the list of two-story barns at 15N560 Valley Home Road. I turn around and quickly find the farm. Immediately I notice that there are a couple pickup trucks parked in the long drive way. Maybe that means he's here, which is odd since he was supposed to go back to the feed store. Maybe this won't be as easy as I thought it was going to be. Why doesn't anything ever work out right for me? I can see that there is a farmer on a tractor out in the field. I figure that could be Jimmy's father. He might not like me poking around his property so I better be quick in case he finishes whatever he's doing and comes back. I knock on the farmhouse door and wait a while, deciding no one is home. I go on back to the barn. It is in fact a two-story barn. There are cows and sheep in stalls around the perimeter of the barn. I look up and see a loft area full of hay. Just outside the loft area a large supportive wooden beam runs across the length of the barn. It's large enough to support someone Mabel's size. I need to go up there to see if my theory that Mabel could have been hung there before she was killed is plausible. I look at my watch. I've already been here ten minutes. I don't know how long I have before I get caught. As I put my foot on the bottom rung of the ladder leading up to the loft, my phone rings. God damn, I hate my phone. I should have turned it off. Actually I'm surprised it works out here in the boondocks. "Mulder," I answer, hoping that I sound as annoyed as I am. "Mulder, it's me. Where are you?" It's Scully. Of course it's Scully. And she still sounds ticked off at me. "I'm out investigating, like I told you." Jeez, how can I be expected to discover anything if I'm being interrupted by phone calls? "Well, it seems that you made quite an impression on Jane Clarkeson at the feed store, Mulder. She called the local office wanting to know who you were and whether or not she should have talked to you. She's afraid you're looking for the clerk at her store and she's having second thoughts about telling you where to find him," Scully said. Man, I hate when people call asking whether they should have talked to me. Of course she should have talked to me. I'm a federal agent. "Well, Jane didn't give me good enough directions, Scully. I can't find him. Although I know he's made his delivery, I don't know where he is now. She did seem awfully concerned about him," I say as I step off the ladder. "Well, then you might as well come back here. You still haven't looked at all of the reports and I haven't reviewed the toxicology findings with you. I was working on them when you chose to ditch me." Her voice sounds a bit hurt. "I didn't ditch you. I told you where I was going," I try to explain. I start heading towards the car. I really, really need to talk to Scully about how we're going to act together at work. Despite all her rules, this is not working. I have some rules of my own that I want to share with her. "You didn't tell me where you were going, Mulder, you just left, like you always do. I thought that wasn't going to happen after last night." She said the last part in a whisper. "Look, Scully, I'm sorry. I think we need to talk. Where are you going to be in a half-hour?" This is not going the way I planned. I insert the key and turn. The car's engine roars to life. "I'm not sure, Mulder. I still have some work here at the office to do, but if I get done with it, I'm going to go back to the hotel," she says. I really wish she would be more precise. "Okay, I'll find you. See you in a bit." I click the off button on my cell phone without saying goodbye and turn the car towards Modesto. *** "He's gone, Mr. French. I'm going to get you out of here now. I need to get you to the hospital so they can save you," Jimmy says as he hoists the body up on his shoulder. He looks down toward the first floor of the barn and becomes worried he won't be able to carry Mr. French down without doing further damage. "Leave him," the voice booms inside Jimmy's head. "I have other plans for us now." "No, I have to get him to safety. You made him drink that stuff and now he's sick," Jimmy cries out loud to the voice. Jimmy is really scared. The voice has never been back this soon. All the other times she left him alone for several days. This time she is back and Mr. French still has the foam coming out of his mouth. Jimmy picks up the bottle of fungicide the voice had forced Mr. French to swallow. "In case of ingestion, drink a glassful of milk or water. Seek medical attention immediately," the bottle read. "I have to get you a glass of milk. Then you'll be all better," Jimmy tells the lifeless Mr. French. Jimmy considers the situation. There is no way he's going to get Mr. French down while he's dead. "I'm just going to leave you here for minute, I swear. Let me just get you a glass of milk, then you'll be okay and you can get down on your own." Jimmy climbs down the ladder and the voice begins taunting him. "You won't be able to save him. You haven't saved any of the others. Why do you think he'll be any different?" "Because I just need to get him a glass of milk. That's all," Jimmy tells the voice. "Once he drinks the milk, he'll be fine." "How are you going to get him to drink the milk? He's dead," the voice says calmly. That makes Jimmy stop. What if he can't save this one either? His sister is right. He is useless. "No, I'll take him with me and get him the milk." Jimmy tells her. He climbs back up the ladder and drags the body by the feet. He pulls hard in his attempts to haul him over his shoulder. Not realizing the strength at which he pulls the body, he pulls too hard and it slips over the edge, hitting the floor with a loud thud. "Oh no! Mr. French, no, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, please, I didn't mean to," Jimmy scrambles down off the ladder and pats Mr. French's head. "See, look what you did now Jimmy! How do you expect him to live after a fall like that? Look, the foam in his mouth hasn't even stopped. What will you do now, huh?" The voice chides. "I don't know. Help me, what should I do? I want to save him!" Jimmy cries. "Okay, here's what you're going to do. You're going to drop the body and go see Jane. Jane will be able to help you. She's always nice to you, that little twit!" Jimmy was dumbfounded. The voice was actually helping him. After all these years, she was finally being nice to him. It made him so happy. "Jane, yeah. I'll bring the body to her! She'll be able to figure it out. She's so smart and pretty. I like Jane." "Yes, now grab poor Mr. French and put him in the back of your truck." Jimmy does what the voice says and heads back to the store to see Jane. He calls over his shoulder, "Jane will make you all better, Mr. French." The voice starts laughing in Jimmy's head. "What's so funny? Why are you laughing at me?" "Oh, Jimmy don't you worry. Sweet little Jane will get exactly what she deserves." She laughs again. CHAPTER 14 Doubletree Hotel Modesto, 4:00 p.m. I swear I'm going to wring his neck! I think he makes it his goal in life to royally piss me off. Not only did he leave most of the paperwork for me to do while he gallivanted off on his own to investigate his "leads," I had to sit through an annoying conversation with Chief Big Boobs on how she'd like to take a shot at my partner. I can't believe that woman blatantly told me exactly how she would like to lick him from top to bottom. Hmmmm, that's a thought. No, Dana, you're mad at him. The nerve of her! Can't she tell that he's mine? I unbutton my blazer, take it off and hang it up. I sit down on the bed and start to unbutton the little buttons on the cuff of my left wrist. To my right, through the connecting door, I hear the handle of Mulder's door unlocking. Great. He's back before I could take my shower and have a chance to relieve my tension. He comes to the connecting door and knocks on the doorjamb while looking at me. I should have shut the door when I heard him rattling the handle of his door. "Can I come in?" he says like a wounded puppy dog. "Mulder, I was just about to take my shower. Do you mind?" I say, gesturing for him to leave. "Scully, you're mad." He looks at me searchingly. "I think we need to talk, don't you?" He moves over to sit on the bed next to me. I get up and quickly start performing little stupid tasks to keep my distance from him. First, I go back to the closet and pull out my hair dryer. "Okay, Mulder, you want to talk, so talk." I proceed to the desk chair and take off my heels. He stares at me unbelievingly. "Scully, look, I didn't ditch you today ..." "Oh no? That's pretty funny, seeing as I asked you if you wanted me to go along and you immediately said you'd rather go alone. If that's not being ditched, I don't know what is ... partner," I jab. God, he irritates me. He has no idea how much that hurt me today. He should understand by now. We've been partners for years. I shouldn't have to explain it to him. "Let me finish, will you? I was about to say that no, I didn't ditch you." I mumble an "uh huh" under my breath. He hears it but continues. "Yes, I guess I was avoiding you. Scully, after last night ... you seemed ... you seemed so cold to me." "Oh, I get it!" I rant. "Scully the ice queen. You know, you're no different than Jack! I'm too cold for you, too. Is that it? Not as hot in the sack either, right? Let me just finish this for you ..." "Scully, no, what the hell ..." He's moving to grab me from my pacing. He pushes me up against the wall. "It's okay, Mulder. I get it. Last night was great, really great, but you've come to realize that the partnership and the X-Files are more important. That's good. I'm glad we could have this discussion before anything got out of hand." He's holding me tightly against the wall. His eyes are searching mine. I can't believe it's over before it's even begun. My eyes fill with unshed tears but I won't let them fall. He can't have that part of me now. "Scully, are you crazy?" What? Now he thinks I'm crazy! "Just because I want to talk to you about us, you automatically assume that I don't want you? Scully, I told you that I love you. That I'm in love with you." He leans his face closer, his gaze pinning mine. "Last night ... last night was the best thing that ever happened to me. How can you doubt that?" I shake my head, not wanting to believe his words. He holds my face and continues, "I want you always, but more than that, I can't live without you. Haven't you figured that out yet?" Okay, so now I'm crying. Big fat tears are streaking down my face. He swipes them away with both of his thumbs as his fingers cup my face. He smiles down at me and I reach up to kiss him. I never should have doubted this man, even for a second. I won't make that mistake again. I suck in his bottom lip and worry it with my teeth a little. God, I love this man. I deepen the kiss, rubbing my lips over his and sliding my tongue across them. He moans, which opens his mouth farther. I take that opportunity and push my tongue into his mouth, twirling it with his. He tastes so good. Not rich and dark like last night, but fresh and minty. He tilts my head and plunges his tongue farther into my mouth, almost as if he's trying to swallow me whole. I love it. He pushes me into the wall a little more and I can feel his erection pressing into my stomach. He's hot and hard and all mine. Then he's pulling me away from the wall. The bed, probably. Nope, we're walking. He moves his mouth from mine and trails it down to my ear. "I thought you were going to take a shower?" he says, his tongue and lips playing with my ear. My breath hitches. "I was, but it can wait," I mutter. He shakes his head against mine. "How about you have a little company instead? Like I told you this morning, I'm really good at scrubbing backs," he says as his hands move down and palm my ass. My moan is all the answer he needs. I move away from him to turn on the water, adjusting it to the right temperature. When I turn back around he's already got his jacket, shoes and socks off and in a pile just outside the bathroom door. His hands move up to unbutton his dress shirt and I push them away. "Let me," I whisper. "I don't know Scully, this is a perfectly good shirt and the last one didn't fare well upon your ministrations," he jokes. I laugh a little and unbutton the shirt swiftly, revealing his chest to me. "Put it on the expense report," I suggest as I move in and suck his right nipple. He gasps. Just the sound I was expecting. I flick my tongue across it a few more times and then move to the other one. I wouldn't want its mate to be jealous. I suck a few more times and then start nibbling lightly. Mulder moans and pulls my head away to bestow another deep kiss onto my mouth. His hands are not idle. During my thorough investigation of his nipples he had found the fastener of my pants and unzipped them. They've fallen to a puddle at my ankles while he makes quick work of the buttons on my blouse. Once he's unbuttoned them all, that too falls down my shoulders to the ever-growing pile of clothing at my feet. We're both now standing in front of each other in nothing but our underwear, panting like teenagers undressing one another for the first time. If I weren't so turned on, I'd find it comical. He, however, seems to be enjoying the pale blue bra and matching panty set I have on. "God, Scully, how did I get so lucky?" He doesn't let me answer because his lips and hands are everywhere, plucking the last of my garments off and away from my body. I grip the edge of his boxers and slide them up and over the erection straining against the fabric. He slips each of his feet out of the legs and grabs me. He brings our bodies flush against one another. His skin is so pliant and comfortable. I could meld into him. With any luck that's what I'll be doing in about five minutes. The bathroom is full of steam and so are we. "Mulder, aren't we going to get into the shower?" I say into his ear. It's like a light bulb goes off in his head at my words. "Shower? Oh yeah ... shower." He leaves the warmth of my body and pulls aside the shower door, stepping in tentatively. He grabs my hand and urges me to follow. "Come on, Scully, the water is perfect," he laughs. I grip his hand and step into the steamy space. The water cascades down over my body as I stand underneath the spray, getting my hair wet. Mulder watches with half-hooded eyes and his erection just begs for my attention. I wash my hair quickly under his gaze. His hands reach out and grip me around the waist. He steps a bit closer and the spray hits the skin of his chest and slides seductively over his toned body. I take my time caressing his waist, arms and back. He ducks his head under the spray, bringing his hand up and running his fingers through his hair. With a flick of his head and a slide with his hand, his hair is slicked neatly back. He's beautiful. I scan his body from his large feet up his runner's legs, skipping over his erection. I'll come back to that later. His hips lead to this wonderful dip that I can't wait to lick. His stomach is perfectly toned and flexes as he rubs shampoo into his scalp. His chest is wide, pectorals in perfect harmony with his shoulders and long, lean arms. He rinses his hair and I watch the soap slide down his body. I have to have him. I grab his neck bringing his face down to mine. He looks surprised but happy. I kiss him, opening his mouth to my assault. His tongue returns the gesture and I'm lost in the sweet sensation of his kiss. He sure can kiss. I want, no, I need more of him. I move away from his mouth and kiss down his chest. I lap his nipples once again for good measure and continue my way down south. I need to taste him. Forget what that two-bit tramp who parades as police chief says. This man is mine and if anyone's going to lick him from top to bottom, it's going to be me. I smile as I venture down on my knees. I look up and catch Mulder's eyes boring holes into me. His mouth opens and his pink tongue licks his already moistened lips. His breaths come in pants and his chest heaves in and out, anticipating my next movement. His body blocks the spray from the shower as I lay a washrag down and lean my knees onto it. I'm at eye level with his length. His hands are at his sides, clenching and unclenching. I slide my right hand up his leg and bring it around to grip him. He moans and tilts his head back. The water from the shower is trickling over his stomach and penis. I wait until his head comes back down and his eyes reach mine - that's the moment I reach my head out and lick just the tip. His eyes close and he moans again. "Scully" he whispers reverently. I become a bit bolder and kiss and mouth the tip a little. Once he's squirming and I know he wants more, I capture the entire head with my mouth and give it a long, hard suck. "Holy Shit ... Oh God yes ...." Now that's what I wanted to hear. I smile around his member and drag my lips down and back a few times, alternately sucking it. His hands come up to my head and skim down my cheeks. He's not pushing my head but caressing me. I think he just wants to make sure that I'm really here. That turns my arousal up another notch and I moan around him. "Oh Scully ... ohhhh yesssss." His words bring me back from my euphoric state and I slide my hand up and palm his balls with my left hand. That surprises him a bit and he leans back and catches the tiles with his left arm. His right hand is still caressing my face, not losing contact with me. "Jesus, Scully, this is better ... oh ... this is better than I ... uuummmm ... mmmm ... pictured it." He thought of me doing this? God, so have I, and it's better than I imagine it would be as well. I suck on the head, using one of my hands to surround the rest of his length. He's much larger erect than I thought. I'd guess seven or eight inches and there's no way I can take him all the way down my throat. I could easily die trying when I'm hearing all of those sweet noises he's making. I bear down on him again taking as much of him into my mouth as I can, compensating with my hand for the rest and suck and lick as much as I can. Just as I'm really getting into it, his hands are on my head and he's pulling away from me. "What, Mulder, why did you stop? I haven't finished yet," I say stupidly, not knowing what's happening. He hauls me up and against the back of the shower, kissing the life out of me. He moves away only when air is necessary. "Scully, I want to be inside of you." His hands move down my back, over my ass. Quickly he parts my legs and lifts me by the thighs, bringing my legs up to wrap around his waist. "Mulder, what are you doing? Do you know how many accidents happen while in the shower?" He lifts me a bit and his penis is nudging against my center. He brings my waist down while simultaneously pushing me harder against wall. "Oh God," I yelp. "If I die now, Scully, I'll die a very happy man." His hips gyrate and he pushes a little farther into me. "Me, too," I whisper as he thrusts in again. "Oh Mulder, you feel soooooo ... ooooohhhh ... gooooodddd." He thrusts in and out. With every thrust, his pelvic bone crushes my clit in between us, sending jolts of electricity throughout my body. He kisses his way down my neck and with one hand, lifts my breast up so that he can suck on the nipple. I can't do much but enjoy his movements and clench my internal muscles. Which he appreciates with a groan around my tightened tip. He leaves my nipple and kisses me again, our tongues swirl around each other like they're old friends. I bite his bottom lip and tug it into my mouth again. His thrusts speed up. His hands grip me forcefully as his thrusts become erratic. I'm so close. I clench my internal muscles around him and feel him expand and pump into me. His seed fills me with liquid fire. It's the extra, added push I need and I see stars. "Oh God, yes Mulder!" I scream into his mouth as he covers it with his kiss. We both come down from our highs, my legs un-wrap from his waist and he massages them as I stand boneless against him. He cups my face and his eyes search out mine. Once our eyes meet, he looks at me with awe and opens his heart to me. "Scully, I love you. You are the hottest thing I've ever known. You are not an ice queen. Especially not to me, ever. Scully, you ... you blew my mind tonight." He kisses me lightly and with affection. "Funny, Mulder. I thought I was blowing something else." I try to look serious for all of ten seconds until we both fall into a laughing fit. We're both laughing uncontrollably as we finish our shower, towel each other off and fall into bed kissing and laughing. We get ourselves under control and move under the covers. I immediately snuggle up into his arms, finding warmth. I feel so content. I can't believe I doubted him for even a second. "So, Mulder, now is as good a time as any. You wanted to talk to me earlier. Before I became a hormonal mess." He laughs a little. "I'm sorry I jumped on you like that." "I know. This has been a hard day for me to. You thought I was ditching you and I thought you were shutting me out." I tense up. I was right; he did think I was an ice queen. "No, Scully, not like that." He hugs me tighter and I relax again. "It's just that I thought you were acting like we were more distant than we were before last night." "Mulder, we agreed not to let our personal relationship affect our working relationship. Didn't we agree on that?" "I guess we did. But when we agreed to that ... I didn't know how it would actually feel when we got to the office. I probably overreacted, but it really bothered me when you didn't want to get coffee with me. I mean, we hardly talked the whole morning." "And I took your familiarity as not caring about what may happen if we were found out." I look up into his eyes so he can see how important this is to me too. "Mulder, it's going to take some time for us to adjust. This is so new. Neither of us knows how to react." He shifts a bit, sliding his hand comfortingly up and down my back. "I know and I guess I wasn't expecting that. It's just that I imagined it so many times, that it never occurred to me that the day after might not be as perfect as ... well, as doing it was," he says sheepishly. "Well, Mulder, I don't know what to say. We're just going to have to try and be more open with each other." I look down, burying my nose in his chest. "We have to be careful at work, but I'll try not to be so stand-offish." "Scully, today, in the car, I did some thinking and came up with a few rules of my own." I pull off his chest and look at him. He's giving me a sly grin. "Rules? Did my Mulder just say he has some "rules" he'd like to discuss? Okay, Sparky ... I'll bite. Lay it on me." He laughs. "Well, actually there's really only one ...." I drag my body over his suggestively. "Which is what?" I nip his lips lightly. He pulls away. "You need to be nice to me at work." Where the hell did that come from? "Excuse me?" I lift off his chest, gripping the blanket to my chest. "I need to be nice to you at work. What is that supposed to mean?" "No, Scully, don't take this the wrong way." He reaches for me and pulls the blanket away, hugging me to his chest again. "I just want you to let down some of those walls you've built between me and your emotions." He squeezes me tighter, not letting me get away. "I just want you to let ME in. You can be a hard-ass to everyone else, just try and let me in. I want to have everything with you Scully, not just work." "Oh Mulder," God this is hard for me. "I've hidden my feelings from you for so long it's natural for me to act a certain way. Besides that, I'm so nervous that when I walk into the bureau after this case I'm going to have a sign over my head saying, "Mulder and I finally did it, and you my friend are the lucky winner of the Mr. and Mrs. Spooky pool. Come collect your prize." He goes into a full-bellied laugh, which sets off my own laughter. "Are we okay?" "We are very okay. We just need to work on our communication skills." He kisses me slow and languidly. "How's that for communication?" he asks with a lilt in his voice. "Pretty good, but I think it needs work." I grin. He kisses me again. "Oh yeah, lots and lots of work, Agent Scully." His hands rub up and down my back and legs. I move to straddle him as our kiss deepens. His lips trail down my neck. He sits us up and leans me backwards to latch onto my nipple. "Oh God, Mulder, I hope it's always this good." His tongue is swirling around the tightened peak ... BBBBBRRRRRLLLLLIIIIINNNNNGGGGGGGG!!! Oh no, not again. I grip his head to my breast and pretend I didn't hear it. Maybe they got the wrong room. His teeth start nibbling lightly and plucking at my aroused flesh. A jolt of pleasure shoots down from my chest, resting between my thighs. BBBBBRRRRRLLLLLIIIIINNNNNGGGGGGGG!!! My life sucks. "Scully, the fucking phone is ringing. Should we ignore it?" He moves his head to the other breast and continues his ministrations. "Don't stop. I'll get rid of them." I lean over and grab the phone; at least I'm in my room now. "Scully," I almost screech into the phone. Mulder continues laving my breasts with attention. It feels so good. "Yes, Mike, what can I do for you?" I'm trying very hard not to pant into the phone. I've started gyrating my hips into Mulder's erection. He muffles his moan into my breast and bites the tip hard enough for me to gasp. His hand snakes down in-between us and starts to finger my entrance. Once he's found what he wants he rubs, hard. "Oh Jesus," I whisper, while Mike is saying something. Apparently it fit into the conversation because he just continued. I adjust my hips and his hand slips out. He quickly adjusts himself at my entrance and slides in easily. "Oh God," I say directly into the phone. He's sheathed so deep within me. Mike is agreeing with me. Okay this is really bad, but it feels so damn good. There's nothing better than merging with this man. I start riding him slowly, trying to get off the phone. Wait a minute. What's Mike saying? I'm trying so hard to focus on him and not the heat Mulder's generating between us. So deep ... mmm ... so deep my mind chants over and over even though I'm trying very hard to pay attention to Mike. There's been another body. Crap! "Okay Mike, I got it, I'll tell Agent Mulder ... what's he doing?" Mulder's hands move to my waist and start pumping harder. "He's working out some of his frustrations." I muffle my moan as Mulder shifts, licks his thumb, puts one hand between us, and rubs it against my clit. Pure and utter heaven. He leans back and puts everything he has into the force of his thrusts. I love this man. "I understand Mike, we'll be there in ... ahhhhh ... uh ... forty-five ... mmm ... minutes. See you then." I slam down the phone and ride the beginning of my orgasm out to completion. "Mullllldddddeerrrrr ... ooooohhhhhhh ... yeeeessss." "Sculll ... eeeee ... ooohhh fuccccckkkk!" His orgasm takes him away and I fall lifelessly to his lightly sweaty chest. I kiss him a couple times, wanting to prepare him for the bad news. He picks up on my mood change. "What's up, Scully? What did Mike want?" "Another body's been found." He nods solemnly. "Time to go to work," I say with regret. He sits up, kisses me and we both go our separate ways to dress. We both take quick showers to wash off the sex and sweat. We're out of the door and heading for Oakdale within fifteen minutes. Clarkeson Feed & Seed 5:15 pm "Jimmy? What are you doing here?" She is surprised to see him. "Why didn't you come back after delivering those saddles? I needed you here at the store this afternoon." At the sight of her, Jimmy stops short. He looks at her wide eyed and scared. She knows Jimmy is an odd man, had been for as long as she had known him, but she has never seen him like this. "But I don't want to hurt her." Jimmy says very quietly. He isn't looking at her and she looks around in a futile attempt to see whom it is that he is talking to. "Hurt who, Jimmy?" Jane says calmly. "I hurt Mr. French, Jane. I didn't want to. Can you help me?" Jimmy implores. At the mention of Mr. French's name, Jane's anxiety goes into overdrive. "Jimmy? What happened to Mr. French? What's wrong with him?" Jane becomes panicked. Another one of her father's customers has been hurt? When he doesn't answer her, Jane continues nervously. "There was a man who called looking for you today, Jimmy. He was from the FBI. You talked to him yesterday. Why was he asking for you, Jimmy?" Still he doesn't respond. He turns away from her, toward the sales floor. She watches as he moves toward the horse tack section. His demeanor changes from scared to purposeful. He begins to talk to himself in a fast, high voice. He paws through the supplies, seemingly looking for something. He picks up a curb strap and snaps it in his hands, testing it. He shakes his head and mutters, "No, not like that. Not again." He looks quickly at Jane and says very quietly, "Something different this time." He picks up a farrier's hammer and smiles slightly. "Yes," he says simply in the falsetto voice. Jane watches, fascinated, as Jimmy violently shakes his head and growls, "NOO." Jane is so frightened now she can't move. She knows Jimmy. He is harmless. But she has never seen him like this. Jimmy looks pleadingly at her. Finally, he speaks. "She says I need to, Jane. But I don't want to. I'm sorry." "Who, Jimmy? What does she want you to do?" She doesn't know of any "she" that Jimmy could be referring to. "My sister. She says you've been too nice to me. She knows you led that FBI man to us. He almost caught us. I didn't want to hurt Mr. French, Jane. But she makes me do these things. She's making me do this. She says she hates you, Jane, but I don't know why." A picture of Jimmy's sister flashed through Jane's mind. They had been classmates. His sister had never been popular and Jane was as mean to her as the other kids were. When Sissy hung herself, Jane felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. She always made sure to be extra kind to Jimmy to try to make up for her cruelty to his sister, in some small way. Jane was stunned. Jimmy just said Sissy was talking to him? How can that be? Jimmy looks at the hammer in his hands. "I don't want to do it. Help me, Jane. You're stronger than she is." Jane's fright turns to terror as Jimmy's visage changes again and he begins speaking in the high fast voice again. "He thinks you can help him, but you can't. You need to not be so nice. Being nice won't help him. You were so cruel to me. What do you think you're doing? Being nice to him doesn't make up for hurting me! ME!" Jane turns to run, but he is too fast. The hammer comes down on Jane's head and she falls to the ground. Tears spring into her eyes. She's never felt pain as excruciating before. The second blow causes her to stop feeling all together. "NOOOOO!" Jimmy yells, forcing his hand to stop the hammer's blow. "NO," he says angrily. "Not this time." I won't let you do this again. Jimmy forces himself back into control of his body. She doesn't want to relinquish the control over him, but he stays strong. He pushes the voice out of the way. He looks at Jane, frightened of what he will find. Her head is bleeding, but to his surprise, she is still breathing. None of the others had still been breathing by the time he regained control. This time is different. This time he has been stronger than the voice. "Oh, Jane, I'm so sorry," he says soothingly. He picks Jane's shoulders up and props her against the metal shelving of the display rack. This seems to rouse Jane a bit. She begins to moan. Jimmy is shocked. Even through the fog of his mind, he knows this time he is not too late. "Jane, come on, I'm going to get you some help." She moans and Jimmy picks her up gently and takes her to the truck. He glances worriedly at the lifeless form of Mr. French in the bed of the truck. He can't think that Mr. French is dead. He just has to believe that the doctors can help him. He had done what the bottle had said and given Mr. French a glass of milk Sure, the milk had just pooled in Mr. French's mouth, but the bottle said that was what to do so he had done it. Jane moans in Jimmy's arms, reminding him that he now has two patients to attend to. He opens the cab of the truck and gently sits Jane on the passenger side seat. He pulls out onto the highway toward the hospital. "You didn't do it right," the voice says. Jimmy's stomach lurches when he hears her words. He had been so proud of himself when he had retaken control of his body from her. And now she is back. "Go away. I want to help these two. They've been so nice to me," Jimmy says. "I hate them. They deserved what they got," the voice says derisively. Jimmy grips the steering wheel hard, determined not to let her distract him from his task. He has to get them to the hospital no matter what. "You're taking them to the hospital again, aren't you, you silly, stupid boy," the voice jeers. "I am," Jimmy says sternly. "The doctors will be able to save them." "Mr. French is already dead, go ahead and take him to the hospital. It will save me the bother of having to dig a hole to hide him in," the voice says matter-of-factly. "He's not dead. I know he's not." Jimmy is upset. Mr. French can't be dead. He had done what the bottle told him to do. The voice is wrong. He hates her. "He is dead. You're just too stupid to know that," the voice says gently. "The doctors will save them both, you just watch." Jimmy pulls into the hospital parking lot. He parks his truck and turns to look at Jane. He sees she is still breathing, which makes him very happy. The doctors will have no trouble fixing her up. "Jane, I'll be right back for you. I'm just going to take Mr. French in first. I'll be right back." As Jimmy walks to the back of the pickup, he feels the familiar tingle of the voice trying to take over his body. He isn't going to let it happen this time. As he picks up Mr. French to carry him into the hospital, the voice's pressure on his body becomes stronger. Jimmy tries to shake the voice away and picks Mr. French up. He is dismayed that he can't see Mr. French breathing, but no matter, the doctors will fix that. As Jimmy walks with Mr. French's lifeless body in his arms, the voice becomes enraged. She too had seen Jane breathing and it worries her. Perhaps the doctors will be able to save Jane. That just wouldn't do. She hates Jane the most for what Jane did to her. She doesn't say anything to Jimmy to make him be on guard. Instead, she builds up all her fury until she is able to suddenly push Jimmy out of the way. She drops Mr. French harshly on the pavement and hurries back to the truck. She needs to get back to the barn. She likes killing in the barn the most. That's where she killed herself all those years ago. It seems only right that she should continue her killing there. CHAPTER 15 We arrive at the scene. There are cops everywhere. The hospital parking lot is busting with news vans, reporters and the local forensic team. As we're walking up to the tape that says "Police Line Do Not Cross" we're immediately rushed by a group of photographers, cameramen, and women and men who look more like Barbie dolls then real people. God I hate journalists. "Are you the FBI agents sent from DC?" screams a newswoman no taller than I am. Mulder and I ignore her and the rest of the crowd. Voices are coming from everywhere. "Is it true, is this the killer's fifth victim?" "Is the Oakdale Ripper still on the loose?" "Do you have any suspects?" The questions are being fired at us rapidly. Mulder and I both turn around and simultaneously say, "No comment." It would almost be funny if it were under different circumstances. Mulder ushers me under the tape, lifting it for me like a gentleman. His hand then resumes its position at the small of my back as we head to where the body was dropped. I see Mike looking over the body now. "Mike, what's going on?" He looks up from the corpse and lifts the sheet higher for our view. I nod towards the group of onlookers. "How did they hear about this?" I shake my head, "Never mind. More importantly, what did you find?" I say, exasperated. "Body was dropped no more than an hour ago. Guy's name is Daniel French." He shakes his head solemnly. "I met him once. My wife and I visited his farm with another set of friends. Nice guy. He took us all for a ride on his horses. He's got half a dozen or so of them." "Did you say his name is French?" Mulder blurts out. He's got that excited look on his face. He knows something. "Mulder what is it?" I interrupt. "French, he has horses and a farm? Mike?" He's got a crazed look in his eyes and his words are rushed. "Yes, Mulder, Dan French. A security guard saw the body being dropped out of a red Dodge Ram about an hour ago. Do you know something?" He looks at Mulder and me searchingly. Mulder shakes his head. He paces for a minute. "Scully, I called the feed store today to talk to the individual I met previously. Her name is Jane Clarkson, the owner's daughter. She told me that their shop hand, Jimmy Jones, was out helping a customer with some saddles." My mouth drops open and I look at him unbelievingly. He continues, "Then when I went there, they hadn't returned, so I went to the farm to try and find them. Needless to say, I didn't find them. That's when you called." "Are you telling me, Mulder, that you know who did this? That you suspect this Jimmy Jones?" I can't believe we've finally got a break. This is exactly what we needed. "Yes, Scully, and there's more." He's walking away towards our car. Mike and I follow. "Jane said that they took Jimmy's truck to the farm and that the red Dodge Ram out front was the customer's." He walks a bit faster. "It was Dan French's truck, Scully," he says excitedly. "The truck, the one the security guard saw the body being dumped from." Mike cuts in as we walk a bit faster, "Mulder, inside Dan's back pocket we also found the signature and receipt from his purchase at one Clarkson's Feed & Seed! Holy smokes! I'm going to call the chief." He's a little slow putting things together. "We're going to the feed store now. I want someone sent over to the French farm in case they're there. We'll let you know what we find," Mulder says over his shoulder. I look back and Mike is at a sprint, cell phone in hand. We push our way through the cameras and reporters once again, finally making it to our car. Mulder squeals the tires out and down towards Hwy 108. We make it to the store in record time. The lights are on but the parking lot looks deserted. We jump out of the car and head to the door. It's locked but the sign shows the store hours as closing at 8:30 p.m. and the "We're Open" sign is still hanging by the door. Mulder pulls out his pocket lock-pick, and goes to work. It's open in seconds. We enter the store, pulling out our guns and taking the safeties off. Everything is unnervingly quiet. Mulder motions for me to take the right as he takes the left. We quickly look around and verify that the place is empty. Something is odd about this. The fact that it's still normal business hours and there's not an employee around is cause for concern. I scope out the area in the front of the store as Mulder double- checks the back. I look at the wall behind the register and notice the phone is off the hook. I make my way around the long counter and that's when I see it. Blood. It's splattered on edge of the counter and pooled on the floor. Papers are scattered everywhere. Looks like there was a bit of a struggle. "Mulder," I call out with a note of urgency in my voice. He quickly runs over and I point over to where the blood is. "Oh, no. Jane," he says as he looks at the disarray. He pulls out his phone and dials a number. "Mike? This is Mulder, did you find anything at the French farm?" He's nodding his head up and down. His eyebrows are knit together with worry. "He's not there. Okay, Scully and I are heading to his farm. No, the clerk here told me where the suspect lives. We think he hurt her and took him with him." He's pulling my hand and heading for the door. "Yeah, okay," he says as he snaps his phone closed. "What is it, Mulder?" I ask as I get into the car. He slams the car door and puts the car into reverse. "It looks like he killed him at the guy's farm." He shifts the car into drive and we jut forward. "There's residue from the fungicide he made him drink at the barn. There's also blood and vomit on the barn's loft and on the floor. Shit, Scully. I was there earlier. I might have been able to save him." He's completely riddled with guilt. I can hear it in his voice and see it in his body language. He's blaming himself. "No, no, no, Mulder, this is not your fault. You did not tell this man to kill these people nor did you have any idea that Mr. French was in danger." He looks at me with sorrow in his eyes and he's about to deflect my announcement. "Nope, not another word. This is not your fault, do you hear me Mulder?" He nods his assent but pushes the gas pedal to the floor. "Now we've got to get to Jane. She needs us, Mulder. She needs you." I think that part got through his head. He'll make it through this; I'll make sure of it. The car heads out onto the dirt road. Any minute now we'll have him. I can feel it. **** Jimmy knows the voice is going to finish the job he interrupted. What she's going to do terrifies him. He knows who she is and what she did to herself. He has kept her at bay for thirteen years. He can barely remember a time that she has not been trying to take control of him. He was seven when he had found her in the barn, dangling from that rope. He barely knew her, then, really. She was twelve years older than he and had already drifted off from the family by the time he arrived. The family hardly ever talked about her before that day, and never spoke of her after. Jimmy first realized who she was when he was nine. He had heard her in his mind before, but it was when he was nine that she first told him who she was. He hadn't really known that the girl he found in the barn was his sister. She had been so estranged from the family. Over the years, she told him about herself. She told him how horrible her life had been and how unfair it was that people loved him and not her. She would spend hours telling Jimmy how cruel the girls in her class had been to her. She also hated elderly men. Their grandfather, who Jimmy had never known, wanted a grandson so much he refused to acknowledge her existence. One time, in town, a group of girls were harassing her and she knew her grandfather saw what was happening to her and had done nothing to interfere. All the hatred she had for her tormentors was transferred to him at that moment. He could have protected her and didn't. She had first taken over Jimmy's body when he was fourteen. They had gotten along pretty well up until that time. While he found her stories of childhood torment interesting, he really couldn't understand why she chose him to talk to and be with. He didn't know until later that she was using his body to avenge the pain she had felt in life. She started small. It took her time to learn how to control his body. She didn't want him to know what she was doing so she didn't tell him. She would push him out of his body so effectively that the time would just be blank to him. When he was 16, while listening to men talking to his father about a rash of decapitated lambs, she couldn't resist telling him laughingly that it was he who had committed the atrocities. He refused to believe it. But then he started noticing that there were large blocks of time that he couldn't remember at all. So he started to pay attention to everything he did, and in time he came to recognize the warning signs that signaled her approach. It took him a long time to learn how to stay present to watch his body do the horrible things. Then, last summer, when he was twenty, she started hurting people. He knew she was using him to hurt them. He knew he couldn't stop her while she was doing it, but he tried to help them after she was done. He had even convinced himself that his cures had worked. The people she harmed were always people who were nice to him. She didn't approve of them and he hated her for what she did to them. He had done pretty well for himself, despite her constant presence. His father had gotten him a job at the feed store. He liked his job. He got to do all kinds of important stuff there. She hated the feed store. She hated that people appreciated him and liked him. So she killed the ones she could. He knows he has to really concentrate now or she will kill Jane just as she killed Mr. French, Mr. Banbury, Mabel and that nice man who had bought him a beer last summer. He also has heard that there was a pretty young nurse who was hit by a car. He had asked the voice about her, but she wouldn't tell him if she had killed that one as well. When he feels the car stop, he tries to look out his eyes, but she is blocking him from even doing that right now. She's so strong right now. He feels himself get Jane out of the car. As his body walks into the barn, he is able to force the voice away enough so he can see what is happening. His body has dumped Jane on the floor of the barn and is gathering hay in a circle around her. He tries to plead with the voice to stop, but she is too powerful. She won't let him in. He musters up all the strength he has and tries to push her out of the way. She isn't speaking to him and that worries him. If she doesn't speak to him, he can't really be sure what she is going to do next. In the recent killings he has been able to plead with her to stop, but the voice is not even allowing him that tonight. She can easily outwit him, which puts him at a disadvantage. He can see that Jane is still alive and that gives him the courage to keep trying to push the voice out of the way. When the voice begins to douse the hay with kerosene, Jimmy begins to panic. He has to do something fast or Jane will be finished. He screams with all his might and tries to force himself back into his body. The voice is having trouble continuing because of Jimmy's interference. He feels her put the kerosene down and feels the voice struggle to light a match. Jimmy hears the squeal of car brakes outside the barn door. It distracts the voice just long enough that he can finally push the voice out of the way. The voice quickly realizes what Jimmy is doing and he can feel her fighting him for control. He forces his body down to the ground and hugs his knees to his chest in an effort to keep her from starting the fire. "Stop! FBI!" Jimmy hears. He turns his attention towards the barn door and immediately recognizes the tall man who nearly caught him with Mr. French. "Don't let her continue!" Jimmy cries. Somehow he knows the tall man will help him. He grips his knees even more fiercely in an effort to keep the voice from getting control again. Suddenly he realizes the voice is gone. She has left him. He can only hope it will stay that way. The tall man helps him to his feet and plucks the matches from the death grip he has on them. He looks over and sees Jane being helped to her feet by the tall man's shorter partner. "Mulder, read him his rights." What did the woman with the fire-red hair say? Maybe they will be able to help him be rid of the voice forever. He didn't want to hurt those people and he doesn't want to hurt any one else. The tall man is speaking but he is having trouble hearing him. It is almost as if his head is stuck in a cloud. The fuzziness starts to dissipate and he can hear the tail end of what the man is saying. "... anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." His hands are pulled behind his back and cuffs affixed to his wrists. For now, it is over. *** Oakdale Police Headquarters "What do you mean, exactly, when you say you didn't mean to kill them? Those crimes were not an accident, Mr. Jones." Scully is relentless in her accusations. "I don't know, Ms. Sc ... uh ... ully. Please, I really don't ... know." She has the kid in tears. "Answer the question. Why did you strangle Mabel O'Rourke and use a hatchet to cut into the stomach of a senior citizen by the name of Martin Banbury?" She takes a strong intake of breath. "She did it! I didn't want to ... please ... you gotta know ... I like them." He wipes his runny nose on the sleeve of his shirt. "They were so nice to me, and I, and I wanted to ... I wanted to save ... them ... I tried to stop her!" he screams. "Stop who, Jimmy?" I interrupt Scully's next question. She looks over at me, exasperated. It's her silent communication telling me she's fully irritated with this line of questioning. "Oh, no ... she'll be soooo mad if I tell ... she'll hurt you, too." His breath hitches and a fresh batch of tears proceeds down his cheeks. "It will be okay, Jimmy. Jimmy is what you like to be called, right?" He nods his head and sniffs loudly. "You can tell me, Jimmy. I won't tell her what you say." He still looks worried. "Agent Scully, will you tell her?" I look over at Scully and mouth the word no. "Ah, no, of course I won't tell her." She rolls her eyes and looks away. Jimmy looks from left to right, almost as if he's checking to see if anyone is looking at him and he whispers to me, "I still can't tell you. She'll know. She always knows. And then she ..." he trails off. He looks like a kid who's seen a ghost. "Is she here right now, Jimmy?" I ask gently. I believe this kid is suffering from something. He looks at me, searching my eyes. He looks confused. "I don't know," he stammers. "You don't know. Oh, how convenient. He doesn't know. What a surprise," Scully says as she puffs the hair off her overly heated forehead. I should have warned her about where I was going. "Who is she, Jimmy? I'm sure she won't mind if you tell us that about her." I give Scully the "look" that I'm actually going somewhere with this questioning. She stills and leans against the wall, waiting patiently with her arms crossed over her chest in the classic Scully defensive pose. "She's dead," he says simply. Okay, I wasn't really expecting that, but it doesn't surprise me. "Mulder!" Scully warns me. I know she doesn't agree with this line of questioning. She probably thinks he's leading me on. "Scully, let's hear him out," I say gently. I'm not sure if Jimmy can hear us or not. I glance down at him. He is twitching, seemingly fighting whatever demons are plaguing him, so I continue. "We've seen this kind of thing before." I'm sure we have. I can't remember any exact instances right now, but Scully seems to back down. "Uh-oh," Jimmy says, distracting me from Scully. "What Jimmy? What is it?" Very rarely in my line of work does the phrase "uh-oh" denote good things to come. His face changes from the teary-eyed, distressed young man to a slight grin. In a high-pitched voice he naggingly repeats what I just asked him. "What is it, Jimmy?" He starts to laugh heartily. What the hell? "You are such an idiot. Why is it that I am always surrounded by idiots?" He points over at Scully, "Now, you - at least you have half a brain." I'm confused and Scully is immediately pissed off. "Excuse me?" she counters. Oh no, this is not good. "Okay, maybe you're not so bright, or maybe you're just deaf. You're just lucky you treated him the same way I would have, otherwise you wouldn't have fared well with me." He points to his chest. Oh God, I know what just happened. He has multiple personalities. Not at all what I expected, but it fits the crimes. I have to be sure. I grab Scully's arm and lead her back. She yanks her arm away from me. I pull her towards me and whisper in her ear, "Multiple personalities, Scully." She looks at me unbelievingly and then starts to contemplate the information. I've had some experience with multiple personalities. The best way to go about it is to speak directly to the personality that is manifesting itself. I go back to the table and sit down and look directly at Jimmy, or at least whoever it is now in Jimmy's body. "Why wouldn't she have fared well with you, uh ..." I fumble for a name, hoping that the new personality will help me out. "Sissy," Jimmy provides with a nod of his head in greeting. His voice becomes a bit more high-pitched. "Sissy," I repeat. I wonder if Jimmy ever had a sister. "Sissy, how are you related to Jimmy?" I chose to ignore her threat to me. Hopefully, I can keep her talking. I look over at Scully; she's quietly watching what's taking place. "I'm his sister, you jerk," she says belligerently. "And I don't like anybody being nice to him. He doesn't deserve it. He hasn't done anything to deserve it!" he screams in the high-pitched voice. "When I was alive, nobody was EVER nice to me, and I DID deserve it!" He points to Scully, whose eyes have gone wide. "She knows he doesn't deserve anyone being nice to him. That's why I'm not going to harm HER. You, on the other hand ..." he trails off and I interrupt. "How did you die, Sissy?" I try not to look at Scully, but I can't help myself - I need to know what she's thinking. She looks concerned. Her eyebrows are knit together tightly and her hand is hovering over her weapon. "Hanged myself," he says almost proudly. "I made sure Jimmy would find me. I wanted him to see what I'd done to myself. What they made me do to myself." He looks over at Scully and notices Scully's hand on her weapon. "You can't kill me. I'm already dead," he says triumphantly and with a huge smile. "We want to help you, Jimmy." As soon as I say that name, I know I've screwed up. Immediately upon hearing Jimmy, he lunges at me, his open hand grabbing for my neck. Just as his hand closes around the column of my throat, Scully's arm jolts out and knocks his fierce grip loose as she pushes me away towards the wall. "Guards, guards, guards!" she screams throughout her attempts to restrain the large young man straining to rip free of her hold. The guards burst into the room, taking over the bulk of Jimmy's body and pulling him away from us. "You're lucky FBI man, fucking lucky!" Jimmy screeches in the high- pitched voice as the guards drag him out of the room. Scully whirls around and pulls me to her in a semi-hug. Her hands are on the sides of my face. "Are you okay, Mulder?" She's panting from the exertion. "My hero," I say, looking at her with awe. She smiles and tips her head to the side, looking relieved and backing away from me. She must have just realized that we are not alone. There are eyes and ears everywhere. I look at her until her eyes reach mine, "I'm okay, really. Thanks, partner." She smiles and we head out of the interrogation room. CHAPTER 16 Flight 731 Somewhere over Yellowstone National Forest 11:30 PM Finally, we're done with this case. We said our goodbyes to Mike, checked out of the hotel and are currently sitting on the plane taking us back to Washington, DC. We still have to write up our reports for Kersh but we can do that Monday. Scully is trying her best to get comfortable in her seat. We've had a long day and it seems to have taken its toll on her. On me too, but I seem to have a higher tolerance for bone-crushing fatigue. I rise to get her a blanket from the overhead compartment and spread it over her, hoping to make her more comfortable. "Are you planning on sleeping?" I ask her gently. "No, I'd rather talk." She chews on her bottom lip, thinking. I love that bottom lip, and I don't like how she's abusing it. I'll kiss it and make it feel better later. "There's something nagging at me about this case and I'd like to discuss it before we attempt to write our report." "We do have all weekend to consider what we're going to write. Besides, I think it's pretty open and shut. A poltergeist inhabitation isn't that uncommon when you stop to think about it." She looks over at me, eyebrow up and mouth gaping in disbelief. "What did I say?" "What did you say, Mulder? Did you just imply that James Henry Jones was possessed?" Oh, I guess when she puts it like that it sounds like crap. "What, you don't agree?" Of course she doesn't agree. She never agrees. "It's the only logical explanation," I maintain. "A poltergeist. That's logical." I nod my head in the affirmative. "How?" She's not buying it. "Mulder, that man is clearly mentally ill." She shakes her head, "Now, I'd agree to the possibility of his having a multiple-personality disorder." She shifts in her seat, turning fully towards me. At least that's something, even if it doesn't make sense to me. "You even said it yourself in the station, that he had a personality disorder. We both saw the change in him, whether it was orchestrated for our benefit or not." She continues unabated. "That's the likely solution. It's just that in my limited experience in psychology, I've never known a patient to take on the personality of his dead sister. That is the issue I wanted to discuss." "Scully, you can't exhibit the personality of a dead sister you've never met. If he had known his sister, I'd consider the possibility that this was a classic multiple personality." I turn to my left, looking her in the eyes. "Since Jimmy never knew his sister ... he was seven when she died ... he must have been being plagued by her ghost. She presented herself to us in the station." I lick my dry lips and continue. "That was not a fully constructed imaginary personality. That WAS his dead sister." I don't know how I know that, but I do. "Somehow she defied all the metaphysical laws and inhabited his body, seeking revenge for past transgressions that were made on her. She saw Jimmy as the reason she was never happy. So her only recourse was to take matters into her own hands, or Jimmy's actually." "Mulder, there is no scientific basis for what you're explaining." Man, I love this argument. She says almost the same things every time. I call this Argument 57, the No Scientific Basis Argument. "How do you expect me to believe your theory without proof?" She knows I don't expect that, but she still needs to say it. "Do you think Kersh is going believe that a man killed four innocent people for no other reason than he was possessed by his dead sister who is out for revenge?" She swipes her hand over her face and sighs. "He will not accept poltergeist inhabitation on our official report." Well, duh. "Frankly, neither to do I," she finishes. The fact that she doesn't accept it at all just causes me to work harder. "It's the only explanation that makes sense, Scully." She needs proof. Okay. "We've seen this kind of thing before. That little girl in Philadelphia, and shortly after that, the mentally handicapped man in Washington State who was used by his dead brother's spirit to get back at his colleagues." She looks perplexed. Apparently she doesn't remember. But I'm certain that this case is very similar to that one. "I believe his name was Roland." A brief flicker of recognition crosses her face at the mention of his name, but she still doesn't look sure. "Look, I'll show you the file when we get back to the office. Trust me, this is almost exactly like that case. The only difference is Roland and his brother were twins, but clearly Jimmy's sister formed some sort of connection with him, or maybe he happened upon her just as her spirit was leaving her body. I'm not really sure exactly how it happened, but it's clear that it did happen, Scully." I settle back in my seat, satisfied that my argument is irrefutable. I'm sure as soon as she sees the file, she'll believe or at least consider the possibility. "I do trust you, Mulder, but that doesn't mean I'm going to automatically agree with your version of events." She shakes her head. "I need proof and right now we don't have any. We're just going to have to leave it up to the justice system and the court appointed psychologist to decide his fate. As for us, we'll just comment on the events as we saw them and come to an agreeable solution. It can wait until Monday," she says with finality. It doesn't matter. I'll prove her wrong when we're back at the office. I'd rather think about what we're going to do when we get back to DC. I lean my chair back, steal a bit of her blanket and take a sideways glance in her direction. She's smiling. She removes the armrest between us and snuggles up close my side, leaning her own chair back and closing her eyes. Amazing what a few days together, working and taking a small amount of time to get to know one another a little less professionally, will do for a relationship. This time last year - hell last week for that matter - I would have never dreamed Scully would touch me. Now she's letting me share a blanket with her on a plane, surrounded by strangers. This is very, very good. Sleep takes over my last thought of snuggling up with her in her own bed. *** Dana Scully's Apartment Georgetown, 9:30 A.M. BBBBBRRRRRLLLLLIIIIINNNNNGGGGGGGG!!! What was that? Wow, is it hot in here or is it me? I slowly come awake to the shrill of a telephone ringing. BBBBBRRRRRLLLLLIIIIINNNNNGGGGGGGG!!! I lean up and push at the heavy weight pinning me down to the bed. God, is he heavy. He's got me in vice grip, too. "Mulder, wake up." I push on his arm and leg slung over my naked form. He's mumbling something in his sleep. "Mulder. Mulder, wake up," I say and push harder on him. "Your cell phone is ringing on the side table." He lifts up off me. I can finally take a full deep breath in. "What, who the hell is calling?" He fumbles in his reach for the phone and knocks his badge and keys onto the floor beside the bed. Good thing his gun stayed put. BBBBBRRRRRLLLLLIIIIINNNNNGGGGGGGG!!! Finally he hits the call button. "Mulder," he grates out. "Oh, yes, sir. I was sleeping. Agent Scully and I took the red-eye from California to DC last night." He listens intently for a moment before uttering a surprised "Really?" I sit up, concerned at his tone. "A commendation? Scully and me? For what?" A commendation - that's good, not bad. But why, I wonder as I listen to his half of the conversation. "For excellence in the field of duty? What did we do that was so special?" He scoots off the bed and stands stark naked while pacing. He's magnificent. I feel myself becoming aroused all over again. How can one man have so much control over my body's responses when he's not even touching me? He's listening intently to what Kersh is saying and not paying attention to me, so I'm free to look my fill. Finally he says, "Well, I don't know what to say, Sir." He looks over at me with a huge grin on his face. "Yes, of course I'll get a message to Agent Scully." He gives me the thumbs up. He can be so sweet. I wish he'd calm down, that pacing is making me dizzy. I figured his conversation would be over by now. I want to know what Assistant Director Kersh said that has him so excited. "Uh huh, a case? An X- file! Of course we'd be happy to investigate it." What I heard can't be true. Kersh giving us an X-file to investigate? His conversation is coming to a close, finally. "Monday morning, staff meeting. Uh-huh. Okay. Where is this new case going to be?" And I was just settling to the idea that we'd be home for at least a week. But if duty calls ... "Thank you, sir. Yes, of course I'll tell her." He clicks off the phone and takes a deep breath. "Scully, you and I are receiving commendations for solving this case. I can't believe it. We're actually getting congratulated for solving a bon-a- fide X-File." He begins pacing again. "And we've received thank you letters from the families as well as recommendation letters from the FBI office in California, the Modesto Police Department, and all of the high profile people in charge." "That's fantastic, Mulder. Recognition is what we need to get the X- Files back," I hint. "Oh, but that's the best part of my conversation with Kersh! The case we leave for Monday night in Tennessee is an X-File. Kersh is giving us back the X-Files!" I have rarely seen him this excited. "Mulder, it's one case. He's hardly giving us the X-Files back." I seductively slither my naked form across the bed, practically crawl up his body as he looks at me with his mouth open and his eyes now hazy. His perfect, pink tongue slowly licks his bottom lip. I get very close to his face, close enough so he can feel my breath on his lips. I look deep into his eyes. He may have forgotten about the new case already. "Now Mulder, you promised me a normal weekend and I intend to make you keep that promise. The case can wait until Monday." He nods his agreement and slides his hands up the sides of my waist to my ribs and finally to my breasts, which he cups and squeezes. "What are you proposing, Agent Scully?" He licks my bottom lip and nips at it. This man makes my insides melt. I want him constantly. "Come back to bed and you'll find out." I lean back and move out of his grasp, lie down on the rumpled bed sheets and open my arms to him. "Again? Scully, you're going to be the death of me." He slows his descent and contemplates something for a moment. "But what a good way to go." We both laugh as his lips cover mine and his body settles between my legs. The End AUTHORS NOTES CYBILL - Wow, this has been such a wild ride! For those of you who have braved it this far, thank you. Feedback will be used to feed the very hungry muses so if you want MORE...feed them. Beta thanks, up, down, and all around, go to the extraordinary Cratkinson. What do you say to someone who so selflessly gives and gives and gives? Thank you isn't nearly enough. Cratz, you were with us before Opus and I were even half way finished with COC and we can't believe you stuck it out through to the end. You are an amazing person and we are better writers because of your influence. You have a gift, and we're so blessed that you shared that gift with us. *Virtual Hugs and Smoochies to you* Onto Xfilesopus, my dear friend. Girl, I simply can't possibly believe we're finally done. For two women 2000 miles apart, we accomplished so much in a relatively short amount of time. I'm not counting all the rewrites! LOL No seriously, I don't think I could have attempted a novel alone. You were my constant, my own touchstone to keep me focused on the work we love so much. Thank you for being you and letting me be me. Love you the most! Now onto our next novella...hold onto your seatbelt, we Californians drive fast! Xfilesopus--This is really my first piece of fan fiction. I'm not really sure how other fan fic authors are able to write without Cybill and Crats. Cybill, you are the best, in every single way. I can't even really say how great it has been to write with you. There just aren't words. Cyb, you're not just the best writing partner, you're the best friend a person could have. Certainly, you're the best friend I've ever had. Crats, what did we do to deserve you? You have gone way above and beyond what we ever thought you would. You made us be so much more interesting than our natural inclinations would have. I've heard there are other betas out there, but I can't imagine any others after you. And finally, I would like to thank the Havenites who visited the Crisis of Conscience page. The Crisis of Conscience page has had 675 visitors in two weeks. And that's before the whole story was even posted. You guys are the icing on the cake. Really, I only write to have fun with Cybill, but you guys make it a whole lot more fun. Thanks.