From monicav@mindspring.com Fri Apr 25 21:31:04 1997 Subject: Farther Along (1/2), Anna Chait From: Monica Vallejo -------- *** I did not write this.*** Please forward all feedback to the author at ____________________________________________________ &*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&* From: "Chait, Anna Ms ITT/FSC" To: 'x-files-fanfic' Subject: Farther Along (1/2), Anna Chait Date: Fri, 25 Apr 97 08:46:00 PDT Message-Id: <3360D1E9@fsc-gw.vafb.af.mil> Encoding: 377 TEXT X-Mailer: Microsoft Mail V3.0 TITLE: Farther Along (1/2) AUTHOR: Anna Chait EMAIL ADDRESS: anabanana@webtv.net DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: DO NOT FORWARD TO ATXC SPOILER WARNING: None RATING: PG CONTENT WARNING: Romance, Romance, Romance CLASSIFICATION: SRHA SUMMARY: Who knew that Mulder would turn out to be such a romantic devil? In this one, M&S come to grips with the possible danger in their newfound closeness and search for the path to a future....together! But others wait to put an end to their joy. (Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. They belong to Chris Carter, 1013 productions and FOX. No infringements are intended.) AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a follow-on, although not a sequel exactly, to a previous story The Truth Be Told.) FARTHER ALONG (1 of 2) by Anna Chait (The alarm sounded at 5:30, just the same as it always did. And the same as always, Mulder sat straight up, trying to figure out exactly what had awakened him. Somewhere in the deep, secret recesses of his mind he knew that someday it would be extraterrestrials coming to abduct him, make him an X-File. He would then be a file with a number in the basement of the FBI building. Slowly it registered in his brain that it was the clock and he reached over to hit the snooze alarm. More sleep was not possible he knew, but he could delay the inevitable for about 20 minutes without being late. He had promised to pick up Scully, her car would be in the shop for at least another day. The thought of her brought her face to his mind's eye and made him smile. Someday soon he would marry Dana Scully and dreaming of her would not be necessary. She would be there beside him when he woke up every day, ready to challenge his theories in that exasperating way she had; ready to give him that "oh-please, not-another government conspiracy" look that she had mastered. It was a subtle thing, that look. Her tongue hit that spot inside her cheek, her arms folded across her chest, and she would look away, off to the side as if there were something more important to see over there. It was just one of the several Scully Looks he had managed to catalog and give a name to. But for now, he'd have to be content with spending as much time as possible with her without making the Bureau suspicious. That was the plan they had agreed on, not to make any serious waves in their office routine, no public displays of affection at the office, no drastic changes in their living situations. The agency frowned on romantic relationships between partners. Just why that was he didn't know. Regardless of the genders of the partners, the very nature of a partnership demanded a closeness not required in other work-type situations. They had spent large amounts of time being bored; had silly conversations, held in the wee hours of the morning on countless stakeouts. Though seemingly harmless and light, these shared experiences were telling. Wasted evenings in yet another sterile motel room watching old movies together. Even the tedious duties of a good detective had, over the course of years, brought them closer and closer. There was also a deeper level of trust necessary in the sometimes life and death situations of law enforcement officials. And that level of trust engendered a close personal relationship that FBI frowned upon. Since telling her he loved her a week ago they had been together alone, completely alone, only twice. Their schedules were so hectic, there just was never enough time for them. He resolved to change that as he admitted defeat to the alarm clock and went for his shower. Today they would be heading out of town to New Orleans on an assignment. Several mysterious murders and a kidnapping, or so it would seem. He arrived at her apartment in Maryland at 8:15 and let himself in. He smiled at the shiny new key before slipping it into his pocket. "Scully....it's me. You ready?" he yelled, making his way to the kitchen, looking for her as he went, trying not to spill the contents of the bag he carried. Scully liked the coffee from the gourmet shop on the corner of her street. "Almost, Mulder. Give me a minute." He opened the coffee and blew into the cup. The paper was on the counter and he flipped it open. The usual stuff, government corruption (hmmm, big news), crime statistics, unseasonably warm weather. But it would be perfect in New Orleans for them. Maybe they could get some time alone together. "Good morning, G-Man." he heard a voice from behind him. He turned, reached around her and pulled her to him. She happily turned her face up to his and he kissed her. As always, his kisses generated a completely pleasurable sensation in her body. He drew away and exchanged smiles with her, a look of happiness and pleasure in his bright hazel eyes. "Good morning, G-Woman. How did you sleep?" he asked, nuzzling her hair with his nose. Her hair always smelled so good, like fresh apple slices or something. "Alone, unfortunately. I like it better when you are here." "I know, so do I. But that's not going to work for us right now. We have to be Special Agents Scully and Mulder. We have to prove to the big boys that we can be an effective team even though we're..what would you say, involved?" "Involved? ...it's ok." "So don't you think the best way is to keep it a secret and prove it to them?" She sighed, and reached for the unopened coffee. She stepped away from him and took a sip. "Yes, I know you're right. But still, I wish you were here beside me every day when I wake up." "How would you feel about phone sex?" He said, joking with her, in that teasing way he had. She nudged his ribs with her elbow. "Is that what you have been learning watching all those adult videos?" "Well, believe me, I would rather be waking up in our bed as well, enjoying the real thing. But when life offers you lousy choices, you do the best you can. Come on, Dana, we'll work it out. In the meantime, we need to get going. The flight is at 10am from Dulles." She put down the coffee and started to move away from him, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back into his arms. "Mulder,...what?" He stared down into her beautiful blue eyes, passion simmering in his own. Sometimes when she looked into his eyes that way, he could swear she was looking straight into the darkness of his soul. "Before we have to slip into our Agent-Scully-Agent-Mulder thing....this is from Fox." he said, bending her head back and cradling it in his hands, kissing her for real this time. A grown man-woman, I want-you-badly, need-you-madly kind of kiss. Scully felt as if her knees had turned to rubber, and Mulder had to hold her up for a moment until she regained control of her limbs. "Wow..." was all she could say, expelling the words, out of breath. "I suppose now you expect me to pick up my luggage and go and get in the car?" He shook his head at her. "No....I'll get your bag. Let's go." He said, tweaking her nose, then quickly turned away and picked up her suitcase. "Mulder!" he heard her yell as he raced out the front door, the rolled up newspaper she threw narrowly missing his head. During the 3 hour trip to New Orleans, away from the prying eyes of the world, they sat wrapped in each others arms enjoying the warmth and closeness. They didn't talk much, just held each other. During the investigation to come they would be able to remember holding each other this way, and it would perhaps be enough until the next time. They arrived at the downtown New Orleans hotel at about 2pm then went out to do some field work. At the crime scene of the first murder, Mulder discovered rain had erased any extra evidence that might be obtained. It was beginning to look like this was a dead end for them, that it was better handled by local law enforcement. Scully went off in pursuit of final autopsy reports and toxilogical screenings. She had only waded through the first file when her cell phone rang. "Scully." "It's me. There doesn't seem to be anything unusual here. You find anything?" "No. Grisly murders to be sure. I don't understand, Mulder. What ties these cases to the kidnapping? And what makes them qualify for an X-File investigation?" she asked, exasperation clear in her voice. He rapidly shared the details of all the killings, then the kidnapping and the evidence that had possibly tied the two together. Later, when they were alone in the car, he apologized. "For what?" "I was so busy clutching your very enticing form on the plane that I forgot to even discuss the facts of this case. Maybe the Bureau is right, maybe...." She shook her head and gently touched his arm, trying to convince him and perhaps herself he was wrong. "Don't go there Mulder. It's just a matter of discipline. We'll work it out, trust me." "Oh, I trust you Scully. You're the only one I trust, remember?" he said, smiling at her and starting the engine. He did. Trusted her more than any person alive or dead. He told her so often. Even when it seemed she'd been sent to spy on him back then, four years ago now. He remembered the day she walked into his office, her hand extended to him as she greeted him. She'd sounded sincere enough. "Agent Mulder...I'm Dana Scully. I've been assigned to work with you." "Really? I was under the impression you'd been sent to spy on me." He'd taken her hand. Cold and a bit clammy perhaps, but she had a good firm handshake. Even after he told her his suspicions about her, that she'd been sent to spy on him, he still felt that she was telling him the truth as she believed it. On that first case, their roles had been established. Mulder was the believer, like it said on the poster behind his desk. He wanted to believe. He wanted to find the evidence necessary to prove what he knew was possible. Scully was the skeptic. She used science to try and explain the cases they investigated. She never used her knowledge of forensic medicine against him, rather she used it to help him whenever possible. Sometimes, though, he wished that in the face of what he considered overwhelming evidence that she could just throw her hands in the air and say, "you're right Mulder." Just once. Mulder read everything he could, fact or fiction, and sifted it through his intellect, then threw it up against Scully's science and logic to see how it fared. Their office was beginning to resemble the office of The Lone Gunman, a truly scary thought. Langley, Byers and Frohike. Their ideas were pretty far out there; they found a conspiracy in everything from Elvis sightings to the counterfeiting strip in a 20 dollar bill. Scully was right when she pronounced them "the most paranoid people she'd ever met." But they had come in handy, many times. Especially after Scully's abduction. It was Byers who identified the branched DNA residue that was killing her. Not that he could do anything about it, but at least Mulder knew what was killing her. Now if he only knew what really happened to her. They had located plenty of information about her abduction, but not the reason for it, or the persons responsible. The only thing he knew for certain at this point was that it wasn't little gray men. Perhaps they would never know. In another two days, they had put this case to rest. In her report Scully had established a link between all the cases and a motive. Based on the profile and a list of suspects, an arrest was made and evidence collected by the local police. It was a Friday afternoon and the only flight they could get home was on Sunday. "Gosh, Scully. Stuck in New Orleans for a whole weekend, on our own time. Whatever shall we do?" he asked, grinning evily down at her. He was just removing his coat and loosening his tie. "We could go out. See some of the city." she volunteered. His face fell. Scully knew what he wanted to do and so did she, but she couldn't resist the opportunity to tease him. "Or, we could have room service sent up and stay in." "Oh, I like that idea much better. In fact if we never left the room it would be fine with me." "You're very transparent, Mulder." "You know, I don't see it like that at all. I've spent years in the company of a brilliant, beautiful woman, in a state of sexual frustration to equal several of Dante's seven stages of hell. I feel like I have a lot of lost time to make up for." She stood behind him and twined her arms around his waist and began to pull the shirt out of his pants. Laying her head against his long back she listened briefly to his beating heart, the heart of the most incredible man she would ever know. Mulder slowly closed his eyes, tipped his head back a little and enjoyed the moment before turning in her arms. He looked into her deep blue eyes, all thoughts of room service temporarily gone from their minds. They were learning to live in the moment and for now there was only Dana and Fox and a "DO NOT DISTURB" sign for the door. ****************** They returned to Washington and went back to work, minding their P's and Q's to keep the Bureau off their backs. It was hard. Thought they had been hiding their feelings from each other for years, now that they had reached for and tasted the forbidden it was difficult to go back. By Friday they had completed another case and with no new work looming they were having an "in the basement" day. They sat at their desks sifting through some files, looking for something interesting. Scully was starting a catalog on the computer of some details from articles in various publications and Mulder was quietly poring over a new magazine. "You know what's so great about Friday, Scully?" he peered over the edge of the magazine at her. "What, Mulder?" she asked absently, never taking her eyes from the screen. "At the end of it is the weekend. Two whole days without the FBI." Now she looked up at him trying to hide her amusement. "Hmmm. You're right. And what did you have in mind?" He put down his new issue of The Lonegunman and excitedly sat forward in his chair. "A date. A real date." She closed her eyes and scratched her head. "I'm trying to remember what that is, it's been so long." "Actually I have a whole day thing in mind. When was the last time you went sailing?" She hesitated before answering, a sudden sadness creeping into her eyes. "Quite a while, Mulder. Probably the last time was with my father." She was touched that he wanted to do that with her. She loved to sail, but hardly ever did it anymore. Somehow without Ahab the thrill was gone. "I was reading about this place in Maryland in the paper. It's a sailing club really. I've reserved a boat for us. Then I thought dinner at that Italian place you like so much...." She leaned back in her chair, visualizing him at the tiller of a boat, then dressed in casual-but-elegant as always for dinner. Then another vision came into her mind. "Then dancing?" He raised his eyebrows. "Really, Scully? Dancing?" "Yeah!" she said, excitedly sitting up straight in her chair. "My mother told me about this place, a blues club in Alexandria." "Wait...pinch me. Your mother in a blues club? You Scully women never cease to amaze me." She picked up her coffee cup and started for the door. "Sounds like a wonderful weekend to me. You can finish telling me over the pizza you're buying for dinner tonight." "I hate to ask, but.... my place or yours?" She laughed. His place was always a wreck, but a comfortable wreck and she could get used to it. "Depends." "On what?" "Mulder....do you actually have a bed in your bedroom?" she asked. Mulder smiled at that eyebrow, the one that she could arch like no one else. He wriggled his eyebrows at her and responded with just a bit of mystery in his voice, "Come over tonight and find out for yourself, Dr. Scully." END OF PART 1 *** I did not write this. *** Please forward all feedback to the author at ____________________________________________________ &*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&* From: "Chait, Anna Ms ITT/FSC" To: 'x-files-fanfic' Subject: Farther Aong (2/2) Anna Chait Date: Fri, 25 Apr 97 08:46:00 PDT Message-Id: <3360D1FF@fsc-gw.vafb.af.mil> Encoding: 366 TEXT X-Mailer: Microsoft Mail V3.0 TITLE: Farther Along (2/2) AUTHOR: Anna Chait EMAIL ADDRESS: anabanana@webtv.net DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: DO NOT FORWARD TO ATXC SPOILER WARNING: None RATING: PG CONTENT WARNING: Romance, Romance, Romance CLASSIFICATION: SRHA SUMMARY: Who knew that Mulder would turn out to be such a romantic devil? In this one M&S come to grips with the possible danger in their newfound closeness and search for the path to a future....together! Warning - others wait to end their joy. (Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. They belong to Chris Carter, 1013 productions and FOX. No infringements are intended.) AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a follow-on, although not a sequel exactly, to a previous story The Truth Be Told.) FARTHER ALONG (2 of 2) by Anna Chait By the time she arrived, he had managed to pick up the dirty clothes in the bathroom and locate clean towels. His bed was made, and the sheets were clean. It had been several weeks since he'd even slept in the bed, preferring the couch in front of the TV. Scully let herself in and called out to let him know she was there. He greeted her with a hug and a very serious kiss. It left them both weak-kneed and swimming in a passionate sort of ooze. "I've been wanting to do that all day." he said, burying his nose in the hair behind her ear. "I know. I had to really concentrate on the computer to keep my mind on my work, but we're here now and it's our time together." He smiled down at her, then kissed her nose. "You will be happy to know that I have picked up a bit in honor of your arrival." He released her and helped her off with her coat. She looked around, not really noticing anything different about what he called his organized-disorganization. "Where? Everything looks the same to me." "The bathroom...." he said, waving her in there while he called out for pizza. As she walked to the bathroom, she took the opportunity to look into what she had assumed must be his bedroom. Indeed, there was a bed, and the room on the whole was the tidiest in the apartment. The bathroom was relatively clean, and new towels had been laid out. "Mulder, you shouldn't have...I'm honored." she said to herself. Of the times she had been in his apartment and had occasion to be in this room she'd always been struck by the lack of towels completely. Plenty of dirty clothes strewn about, but no towels. Now the room sparkled and clean towels hung on every rack. She returned to the living room and kicked off her shoes, reached for the remote control and turned on the TV. The news was on. She sat back and listened to the announcer droning on about some murder in the downtown area, then closed her eyes, lulled into a relaxed state. She reached for the afghan which was in the chair in a heap, and pulled it around her shoulders, tucking her feet under her to keep her warm. When Mulder returned to the room, he found her curled up into a corner of the couch, her head leaning to the side, napping. He stood still and watched her, struck again by how truly beautiful she was. Fiery red hair, glowing porcelain skin. Where her hair fell away from her face, he could see in her ears the small pearl studs he had given her for Christmas last year. Full brows, a petite nose and a perfect mouth all adding up to one incredibly attractive woman, the only woman for him. The only woman in 5 years to even spark his interest. He crouched down in front of her, resting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands together in front of him. He was caught staring when she slowly opened her eyes. "Mulder,... what are you doing?" she asked, noticing he had changed out of his suit and into jeans and a pale blue T-shirt. "Watching you." "Was I doing something interesting?" He smiled, looked down at his shoes a minute, then raised his eyes to hers again. "Not to the casual observer, no. But to me, yes. Here you are in my apartment, in your bare feet, curled up under my afghan napping. It seems so ..... I don't know, normal? Such a small everyday kind of thing, most people take stuff like this for granted. But it makes me so happy...it's hard to explain." Again, he turned his eyes away from hers ready to retreat, suddenly embarassed by his sentimentality. She reached out to him, and he got onto the couch beside her, folding her in his arms. "You're doing a fine job...quite articulate. And I know what you mean. It's like a miracle, one that I thank God for on a regular basis." Scully believed in God. He wasn't that sure. Yes, it made sense to him that the complexity of nature and the order of the universe simply could not be haphazard, that it most certainly had to have been engineered by a superior being. But a benevolent God, the man that people prayed to and expected to save them, ensuring their place in eternity.....that was a gray area for him. He held her a little tighter, remembering the first time he prayed, hoping someone, somewhere heard him. It was when he found her necklace, that thin gold chain with a cross on it that she always wore. Lying on the bloodied carpet in the trunk of Duanne Berry's car. The incredible sense of pain and loss he felt at that moment was like nothing he ever felt, including the loss of his sister. If he ever wanted to believe in God, it was that day. If there was a God surely he wouldn't let anything happen to Dana Scully. He had prayed to the darkness, please please please please don't take her away from me. I need her too much. Keep her safe until I can find her. But it wasn't him that found her. It appeared she had been "returned" because they had no further use for her. In a coma and very near death, she remained still and pale when he finally got to her that night. She wasn't breathing on her own, there were tubes coming from everywhere. He couldn't afford to feel anything but rage about her condition, because feeling anything else would have him in a heap at the foot of her bed, sobbing and helpless. Recalling that horrible time in his life when she was gone made him wonder if perhaps "they" weren't right. Maybe he should get up now and leave, disappear into the night and never return. What if that was the only way they would remain safe. What if they found out about him and Scully. Would they try to break them up? Were they doing the right thing? Only time would tell, for in truth the thought of leaving Dana behind now was completely repulsive. "I know what you're thinking," she said, trying to draw him back to the here and now. "You do?" he said, startled, hoping that she didn't really know what he was thinking at this moment. "You deserve to be happy, Mulder. I don't care what your folks made you feel, that you let your sister down. You were a little boy, 12 years old. You do deserve happiness." she said softly, then turned in his arms to look up at him. He smiled sadly back at her. "You can read my mind, can't you. Maybe one day....." "Until then, I will just keep reminding you." They ate their pizza then fell asleep on the couch. Mulder woke up about 2 am, plucked a sleeping Scully up into his arms and headed for the bedroom. Without wanting to wake her completely he pulled another blanket from the closet and got onto the bed with her, wrapping the blanket around them tightly. "Mmmm...Mulder..", she mumbled into the blankets. "Yeah, baby, what?" he whispered. She'd smiled at his use of the word "baby". No one ever called her that but Mulder. "We should go to bed." she said sleepily. "You know, I've waited years to hear you say that...we are in bed Scully. Go back to sleep." She turned in his arms and buried her face in his chest. "Some seduction....." "I'm tired, and obviously so are you. You've fallen asleep twice since we got home. This is not a seduction, I just thought we would be more comfortable here." She sat up and pushed her hair away from her face. A pale blue light, a combination of moonlight and streetlight from outside illuminated her face, like an old black and white movie. Mulder stared in fascination. "Well, I'll be more comfortable out of these clothes." "There are clean T-shirts in the third drawer down." he said, snapping out of it. While she was gone, he undressed and slipped back into the bed, closing his eyes and stretching his 6 foot frame under the cool sheets. He heard the door open and watched Scully carefully hang up her clothes before slipping under the covers beside him. Sliding one arm around her, he pulled her close. She may have been wearing his T-shirt, but she smelled like Scully. "'Night, Dana." She smiled. To her recollection he'd only ever called her Dana twice before. "Goodnight...." she paused, wanting to use his first name, but knowing he didn't like it. "Go ahead," he whispered. "Goodnight, Fox." "It's okay when you say it. But you're the only one." She enticed him out of bed in the morning with coffee then into the shower with the promise of an early morning experience he wouldn't soon forget. After a stop at Scully's place so she could change, they drove to the Colonial Sailing Club where they spent a glorious fall afternoon on the water in a fair sized sloop. Scully was an experienced sailor, but she had no idea about Mulder's ability. "Are you kidding? I grew up on Martha's Vineyard, spent most of every day in the summertime on the ocean in my boat..." Scully watched him as he deftly handled the tiller and issued instructions for the sail, the wind blowing salt spray in his hair and onto his sunglasses. She was glad she had insisted he bring his heavy black sweater to wear over his jeans and chambray shirt. It was the beginning of November and chilly on the water. She could swear that in the whole time she knew him she had never seen him smile as much as on this day. He was relaxed, and seemingly happy, an interesting state for Mulder. He wished he'd brought a camera. A day in the autumn sunshine had transformed Scully. There was color in her cheeks and her steps were a bit lighter as they headed home. He dropped her off at her place and went to change for dinner. The Scully who reappeared at her door an hour later was one he had not often seen. She was wearing a short, slinky black dress, black tights and heels. Over her stappy dress, she wore a thin black sweater and she smelled wonderful. "Scully, you are a knockout." She beamed at him, even though he said it as though it were a startling revelation to him. "Thank you, Mulder. You're not so bad yourself. Very handsome." He too was freshly showered and smelled good, really good. He wore black trousers, a turtleneck and that black leather jacket she liked. After her favorite dish and a bottle of wine, they went in search of the blues club Margaret Scully had told them about. They danced, holding each other tightly. In the car on the way home, that song was playing again. "That song, Scully....that's the song that was playing the night I called you....that night I first told you I loved you." As they listened, Mulder reached for her hand. He was certain now that if tomorrow never came, Dana Scully would most definitely know how much he loved her. If all they had was yesterday and today, she would know. They went back to his place and spent the rest of the evening in each other's arms, delighting in each other's bodies the way they knew now it was meant to be. Come Sunday night, Mulder reluctantly returned his "Dana" to her apartment. They had spent time together like normal people did. That's what their lives lacked, a balance of normal everyday living to mix with the extraordinary work that they pursued. Monday morning, Special Agents Dana Scully and Fox Mulder were on the case, trying their best to conduct themselves in a professional manner. It wasn't always easy. When Walter Skinner called Mulder on the carpet as he so frequently did, it took everything in her not to jump immediately to his defense. When Mulder heard any of the nicknames that floated around the halls of the FBI for Scully, he didn't deck the offender. In fact, he was starting to like the sound of "Mrs. Spooky." And he was the only one who knew that the term "ice queen" that made the rounds was a complete fiction. Scully was feisty and passionate as befitted her Irish heritage. As autumn turned into bitter winter in Washington D.C., Mulder became more and more confident that they would be able to balance their professional and personal lives to everyone's benefit. They still disagreed on cases and labored tirelessly to prove each other wrong. But when it was done, it was done, and they could be Fox and Dana for each other. Their philosophies were still miles apart, and Scully would continue to throw his ideas and theories back in his face mixed with a heavy dose of science and logic. On a cold Friday night in mid January, he stood at the window in his living room, staring down at the street. It was dusk. The street lights had just come on and he was waiting for Scully. It was quiet on the street. Everyone was indoors, doing those things that people did this time of day. Across the street he could see a man pulling his kid's bike out of the driveway. The paperboy was delivering his papers, missing the front steps of the most of the houses along the block. And a dark green explorer pulled up at the curb in front of his building. A very attractive, petite redhead emerged with a small suitcase in her hand. Dressed casually in jeans and a leather jacket, she walked briskly for the door to the building. Sensing that she was being watched, she looked up to find what she sought. The smiling face of the man she loved in the window. They traded smiles and waves. They had come farther along that he had thought was possible. After a lifetime of questing and searching, he was no closer to his goal of locating his sister and he had no intention of giving up the search, but he was happier on the journey. Nervously his hand went to his pocket, his fingers seeking the soft velvet of a jeweler's box. Things would have to change from this point forward. Only last week they had argued bitterly about his recklessness. In seeking the solutions he sometimes blundered ahead, naively believing himself invincible. He had disagreed with her assessment, and she responded promptly, quoting chapter and verse of the ridiculously dangerous missteps of Agent Fox Mulder. His absolute trust in his partner had almost become a liability to his safety. He'd spent this past week mulling this over, searching for a path to their future. There had to be some compromise for them. It was past time for them to come out with their relationship and force the issue with the agency. There must be a way, and they needed to find it. And if there wasn't, they would deal with that as well. He wanted a family and a chance to prove to himself that he could do a better job than his parents raising children. He now knew without a doubt that Dana shared those desires. After today they would be even farther along. A Federal Building Washington, D.C. 11:21 pm A thin haze hung about waist level in the room. The man with the cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth spoke softly into his phone, one eye nearly closed to protect his eye from the offending smoke. It curler around his head like an evil halo. "It's been a while since we used Mr. Mulder." "I thought we agreed to let it go. Mulder is more trouble than he is worth." "But now he has something to lose. Something that is more precious to him than anything. Something he couldn't bear to part with. "That's what you said about his mother." "His mother was....something altogether different." (END OF PART 2) (More Notes: I had so much fun with The Truth Be Told. I asked for and received some really encouraging mail, so I went ahead with more. The best part of this experience was receiving mail from author's on the Archive whose work I have read and enjoyed so much. That means alot to me. Thanks.)