Note for readers & archivers I sent out the R-rated version of this story
over a week ago and meant to do the PG version straight after. Now that I
finally have the time to look back over it, I think parts 1 & 2 are PG so I
will post them out again as is (sorry for the double-up) and slightly tweak
part 3. It's very hard to judge ratings these days... <g>

I'd love feedback on my work!

TITLE "The Mark of Zorro III Let the Silk Fall Where it
May" (1/3)
BY Ten
E-MAIL ADDRESS kristena@ocean.com.au

CATEGORY V, MSR (I controlled myself -and them - through
TWO stories before this, so we've all had enough
pussyfooting. And trying to keep a hold on Mulder in a
silk shirt is not easy...)
RATING PG-13 for adult situations
SUMMARY It doesn't matter if Mulder and Scully's clothes
are casual or sexy. They're both driving each other
insane with desire, and something has to be done about
it.
TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING I never really had a particular
setting for these stories, but this one mentions "Never
Again", and Scully doesn't have cancer, so it can settle
where it wants to. There is also mention of "Avatar" and
"Jersey Devil".

And if you're allergic to lots of black silk, bail out
now!!!! Thanks Lili, for keeping at me on this one - I
hadn't realised it was so long between instalments. If
you haven't read the first two, you should be able to
follow this, the others are available through Gossamer
and me. Thanks Tina and Ngaire for helping me improve the
scenario.

DISCLAIMER The X-Files and the characters of Mulder and
Scully belong to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions
and Fox Broadcasting, and are used without permission. No
copyright infringement is intended, no profit will be
gained.

The X-Files "The Mark of Zorro III Let the Silk Fall
Where it May" (1/3)
by Ten, January/February 1998


Neither of them could remember their partnership being in
a worse state. Sure, they'd gone over bumpy ground
previously with ditchings, "I'm fine"s, abductions,
betrayal, evidence snatched away, misunderstandings...

But this was an even more deadly threat they were dealing
with. An old enemy they thought was under control.

Lust.

A few months ago, Mulder had inadvertently driven Scully
crazy by wearing a black silk shirt. A few weeks ago she
just as innocently returned the favour by wearing a
little black dress.

Problem.

Lust *can* be defeated, of course. By waiting it out.
Dismissing it. Beating it into submission. Hiding it.
Until hopefully it dies down or crawls away, whimpering
in defeat.

However...

The really scary thing in this case was that this lust
was not transient. It had solid foundations under it.
Love. Another global flood wasn't gonna budge that fact.

But for the sake of their partnership, they ignored it.
Both agents thought the other had no idea just how
affected they were. They thought they did a great job of
being professional and hiding the dreams that were
getting more and more frequent and powerful. But last
week the tension built up so much they kept getting
static electricity from the filing cabinets.

So, this Friday morning they were carefully working away
when Mulder dared risk addressing her. "Who are you doing
- er, *what* are you doing for lunch, Scully?" He winced.
So much for a casual tone...

She was so distracted she missed the innuendo. "Huh?
Lunch? Oh, I'm..." /In my dream on Tuesday I was eating
it off your chest, but let's not go there.../ "Ellen and
I are getting together in the Mall. Her cocktail party is
Saturday, so I'm helping her go over some last minute
plans."

/And you are nothing if not thorough.../ he thought,
thinking of his own recent night visions. She'd worn him
out in a *dream*, for God's sake! He rubbed his neck.

"You okay, Mulder?"

"A bit sore. Has Violent Crimes still snaffled you for
that autopsy this afternoon?" Mulder thought it was
really sick that he felt jealous of a corpse. But the
stiff would get more touches from her in an hour than he
had in their partnership!

"Yeah, and you've got that consult. Let's face it, it's
pretty much dead around here," Both ignored the
shimmering tension that practically beat its chest and
howled. "Even all the paperwork is done. So you'll
probably be out all afternoon?" Half of her wanted him
there when she came back from the autopsy, the other half
was glad he was going so she could daydream without
getting caught.

"Yeah." /I'm already out now.../




Scully was on her way to her favourite Mall cafe to meet
Ellen. With all best intents and purposes, that is what
she set out to do. But she noticed that whoever had moved
into the ex-lingerie shop near it had finished their
renovations and were open. It seemed to be still selling
clothes, but the window display looked...odd. Intrigued,
she crossed over to look at it.

The shop was called "Dark and Stormy Night", and it was a
celebration of all things Gothic statues of skulls,
pewter wizards, spider brooches, crystal balls, postcards
of the Adams Family. And clothes... Dana was drawn
irresistibly into the store. A large man smiled at her
from behind the counter, his skin coloured green. She
hoped it was just make-up - she didn't want an X-File in
her lunch break. The changerooms caught her eye. They
were coffin shaped.

Her gaze was quickly distracted by the clothes. What
beautiful medieval dresses... A bit like Missy used to
love. Velvet with long skirts and sleeves, oh - those
sweeping black cloaks and - /Oh my God.../

A rack of silk shirts for men.

She was drawn to the first black one she could find. It
looked like the one Mulder had worn. Made in the old-
fashioned style, with full sleeves, a tight torso, and
thong ties instead of buttons. She ran her hand over the
front of it, pretending his beautiful muscular sexy chest
was encased by it. God, the silk felt wonderful... She
trailed her hand down a sleeve and then raised it to her
face to rub there. Mulder's touch, Mulder's lips across
her skin, her mouth...

"Ma'am? Er, ma'am?"

She jumped in fright. Frankenstein was two feet away from
her, and about four feet higher than her head. He smiled
down politely.

"I am sorry, ma'am," he intoned deeply, "but you cannot
fondle the merchandise!"

Scully turned as solidly red as the shirt was black.
She'd got makeup all over it. "Er...I'm sorry - I'll buy
it." She could use it like a security blanket in bed...
Or something.

"My bride makes them. She will be flattered by your
admiration of her work. See what nice stitches she did at
the neck? And across my forehead." Scully was too rattled
to laugh. He sighed and tried again. "I must try on one
of those shirts and see if she gives me the same
reaction. Perhaps if I ask her to speak in French..."

Dana paid in a daze and stumbled out, clutching the
shopping bag.

"Dana?" It was Ellen, approaching her with a worried
frown. "Thought it was you! Are you okay?"

"In brief -" /Or boxers... Stop it!!!!/ "- I'm fine." She
smiled.

"You don't look it. Is that a new shop? What's it like?
What did you buy?"

"Er, nothing! Just something silly to put away for
Halloween. It's an unusual store, but for now, let's eat.
I'm starving. Sorry to keep you waiting." She hurried to
put distance between them and the Gothic shop, but the
bag felt like it was glowing in her hand.

They had their usual fun time. Ellen filled her in on her
godson, Trent, and they discussed the cocktail party.

"So, Dana... Is that little black dress of mine good
enough for you?" Ellen couldn't help a giggle.

Scully gave her a glare that would have sizzled a
retrovirus. A few weeks ago she had been at her friend's
trying on some of her evening wear when Skinner rang with
an urgent evaluation for her and Mulder to do. So Scully
had rushed off to Mulder's apartment - Ellen conveniently
forgetting to remind her she was still in a dress which
showed a lot of leg.

"Forget it! I have a nice crimson outfit, thank you.
Which covers everything it should."

Ellen began giggling harder.

"It is *not* funny!" Scully groaned when she thought of
the situation it led to. "You should have seen Skinner's
face...it looked like Mulder and I had just..."

Ellen's face vanished into her hands, then reappeared
with an effort. "Come on, he hasn't said anything, has
he? Kim hasn't had to type up any black marks for your
files. Give Walt some credit."

Ellen was friends with Kim, Skinner's secretary, and knew
"Walt" through her. Once Skinner had escorted Kim to one
of Ellen's dinner parties as a favour, after his final
split from Sharon.

Scully excused herself to go to the ladies. She had to
get back to work soon. When she returned to their table,
Ellen had the shirt out of the bag and was admiring it.

"Halloween, huh? What howling beast is gonna dress up in
this? It's a man's shirt."

"I have brothers," she said defensively, snatching it
back.

"And you work with a fox. Come on, spill! Are you
bringing him along?"

"No. I'm not bringing anyone. I just..." /I'm scared to
ask him. I don't know who else to ask. I don't want to
ask anyone else./ "I know Mulder looks great in one of
those shirts, and I couldn't resist buying it," she
admitted.

"When did he wear one?"

She hurriedly confessed about the time he'd reached the
dregs of his wardrobe when he couldn't do his laundry.
Well, that sexy shirt was hardly 'dregs'. "I couldn't
concentrate..."

"And you were hoping that in buying the shirt, you *can*
now concentrate?"

"I don't know what I was thinking... Look, I've got to
go! I promise I'll come early on Saturday to help you set
everything up, okay?"




When Scully got to the autopsy bay, she found a message
waiting for her from Mulder. His consult had been
cancelled, so he would be in this afternoon after all.

When she finished her job, she couldn't help thinking of
his stiff neck and how she wanted to massage it better.
So she imagined doing it. He was so grateful, so pliant,
so responsive... She nearly floated into the elevator.
The car may have been going down, but her mood was
anything but.

She entered the basement office. "I got your massage -
MESSAGE!"

Well, that certainly killed any attempts at
professionalism. They just gaped at each other in horror
and hope, then denial kicked in that would have made
Cancerman proud, and they put their heads down. Scully
scuttled to her desk and hid her purchase in a drawer,
glad there was no logo on the bag, and turned her laptop
on. Pity she couldn't turn off her own turn-on as easily.
She put her walkman headphones on to transcribe the
autopsy tape. Time passed.

After doing some online research for her report, Scully
realised she couldn't go any further without asking
Mulder about similar cases he'd worked on in Violent
Crimes. She wanted to ask him *important* questions like
"Would you like to take me on the desk or against the
filing cabinet?" or "Would you have any objection to
taking off your clothes for me?" but unfortunately this
was not the time.

She nervously looked up. Mulder was gazing intensely at
the wall, rocking his chair back and forth gently. She
knew that look so well - he got it when he was really on
the chase of an X-File and so deep into his mind that it
would take several "Mulder"s to startle him into reality.
He'd absently say "Yes, Scully?" and pay attention long
enough to answer her.

"Mulder..." Nothing.

Up a notch. "Mulder." Still nothing.

"Mulder!"

"Oh YES, Scully!"

A very dead silence. Killed several times over in fact,
and jumped on for good measure...


END PART ONE OF THREE

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The X-Files The Mark of Zorro III "Let the Silk Fall
Where it May" (2/3) Rated PG-13
By Ten
E-mail kristena@ocean.com.au
Disclaimer in Part One


Mulder nearly slid down in his seat far enough to
disappear under the desk. Was it his fault that her
little "massage" slip had set off an amazing scenario in
his brain?

A knock at the door. Both jumped.

"Yes?" Mulder nearly croaked. This time his intonation of
the word was a lot distant from a laden groan.

"It's Skinner."

They exchanged glances, as guilty as if they were
horizontal on his desk. "Come in."

Skinner entered. Mulder bit back a larger groan. He
watched Skinner stop and frown. /Oh God, he knows what's
going on... Mulder! *Nothing* is going on. Unfortunately.
Apart from the carnival in your pathetic imagination. But
it's like he can sense it.../ Nervously Mulder watched
his boss scan the room, then peer up suspiciously at the
overhead sprinklers. Mulder nearly burst out laughing,
remembering the gremlin that had plagued the whole
building on the Weekend of the Black Dress. He would
welcome an indoor downpour now. It would distract
Skinner, cool himself off, and hopefully do wondrous
things to the structure of Scully's blouse - /Stop that!
That little fantasy will have to hold you through the
rest of the day until tonight. Now back to work./

"Can we help you, Sir?" Scully's voice was all
professionalism. Mulder was proud of her.

"Er -" Skinner was very distracted. He was still looking
around, as if there was something he wanted to put his
finger on, but couldn't. "I need a few of your reference
books, Agent Mulder. A few which are definitely not in
the FBI research library."

/No wonder he's so uncomfortable. Okay, do you want the
HankyPankys or the crop circle digests?/ "Of course, Sir.
Which ones?"

Skinner wandered around Mulder's desk, glancing at them
both. "Any pertaining to succubi."

"You've seen her again?" Mulder asked excitedly.

Skinner glared at him. "I would just like to read some
literature on the phenomena, Agent Mulder. That's all."

"Yes, Sir. Of course. If you'd like to take a seat, I'll
gather what I have."

"If you can find it..." He didn't take up the offer of a
seat, still walking round, looking.

"Won't take a minute." Mulder went to his cramped shelves
and began rummaging. Surely he'd strike the right books
before he hit bedrock or the centre of the earth. At
least this explained why Skinner had come down to them,
when usually it was the other way around.

When Skinner's pacing placed him near the filing
cabinets, he frowned even more deeply and stopped. He
reached out and touched one and jerked his finger back at
the crackle of electricity. What hair he possessed nearly
stood on end.

Mulder swallowed a nervous laugh. "The gremlin. Perhaps
it decided the basement was the best place to live."

"Indeed."

Mulder located and retrieved all the useful information
he could find about crones as Scully put her headphones
back on and tapped away efficiently at her laptop. /Top
of her lap.../ Mulder would be glad when Skinner left. He
had hoped the presence of their boss would be the cold
shower he needed. It wasn't. Finally, Skinner seemed
satisfied and left with an armful of reading material.

"Bet he goes and puts that straight in his car," Mulder
said. "I can't see him purusing rampant sex spirits at
his desk."

"You purused a girlie magazine at yours." Scully had her
headphones off.

/Only to distract me from you. Even back then./

"Mulder, I need your help with this report. I remember
you mentioning similar cases in the past."

/Ahhh, distraction. Work is a beautiful mood killer./
"Tell me about this autopsy. What do you want to know?"




The day was over. Mulder had produced the relevant case
files from his collection, answered Scully's questions
and added a few more holes to his battle-scarred tongue
to stop it from dropping inappropriate words. "Office"
nearly became "orifice", "G-Woman" - "G-spot"...

Luckily his partner had left to go over her findings with
Violent Crimes. "I'll give them a nice slide show," she
said on her way out. "I learned from the master."

He was going out of his mind and knew his problem was
getting worse because of this damn cocktail party. It was
great that Scully had an event to go to, but she might
meet someone... What would he do if she met someone?
/Have the guy arrested on fraud charges. Why didn't she
ask me? I know she hasn't got a date for it.../ He would
have dropped hints, but with the way his mouth was
misbehaving, he didn't dare risk it.

Yes, he wanted her. But he didn't want a quick fling to
relieve the pressure or to satisfy curiosity. He wanted
her to be his partner in everything, every day and night
for the rest of their lives.

Mulder got up, utterly miserable, and crossed to the
filing cabinets. He touched one. Not a spark.




When Scully got home, all she wanted - apart from her
partner - was a long soak in the tub. This was ridiculous
- they were adults. Why couldn't she get a grip? Perhaps
that wasn't a good choice of words... /It's just lust!/
she railed at herself. Not even her sceptical nature
would accept that rationalisation. The doctor and FBI
agent personas she was clinging to as her life buoys were
fast falling to pieces. Her old standby trick of
imagining Mulder unconscious and in a hospital bed wasn't
allowing her to look past his sexiness anymore - it
always used to be enough to let her concentrate. And her
child-persona was throwing a tantrum, declaring it wanted
Mulder, as if he were a new toy.

/I just have to ride this out. These feelings will have
to calm down eventually and become more manageable. Thank
God for the party - it'll be a great distraction./

She saw the answering machine light blinking and played
back her messages. One was from Ellen, sounding rushed.
"Hi Dana, you know I hate these stupid machines. I always
forget something... Why can't you have a sexy male
secretary to take notes... Oh you have, but he can't
type, can he? Anyway, I just want you to know there's
been a change of venue for the party. We're having it at
Julie's holiday house instead. More room there. More
people accepted than I thought..."

Scully remembered Julie's place from a previous visit.
Set in the more opulent suburbs, the house was a very
comfortable size, and had a dining/entertainment area
which included a dancefloor. The bedrooms were
beautifully decorated. It was set on a large block of
land to give privacy, and there were different types of
gardens, all carefully planned and landscaped. She looked
forward to visiting there again.

That night, Dana tucked the shirt under her pillow and
fell to sleep with her hand resting between silk and
cotton. On Saturday morning she woke up to find her hands
had liberated it and were holding the shirt to her chest
and under her chin. /You're in trouble, girl. Even those
white dress shirts are beginning to appeal just as
much.../

Twilight was beginning to fall as Scully arrived at the
holiday house in a frazzled mood. Kim had rung her up as
she'd been about to leave, with the news that Violent
Crimes wanted her copy of the autopsy report, because the
idiots had accidentally ruined their own by spilling
coffee on it. They couldn't come and get it - back and
forward would be too long, and they had work to do. She
didn't. Could she please rush it to the building herself.
Kim was very grateful, and sent her on her way. Into busy
traffic. She phoned Ellen to explain, but felt awful.

The holiday house was even lovelier than she remembered.
The trip up the long driveway gave her the chance to
savour some of the gardens. She pulled up next to Ellen's
car, and her friend bounded out from the house wearing a
dress in a tiger-stripe print as Scully got out.

"Ellen, I'm so sorry -"

"Dana! Isn't this place just lovely?"

She looked around, at the bubbling fountain close by, the
flowers, the new work to the front of the house... "Even
better than I remember. Have any other guests arrived
yet? I can't believe I had to leave you to manage on your
own..."

"No one else yet, but it won't be long. Don't worry - I
managed fine. You have a busy life."

"Where's Julie?"

"Coming later. She trusts us not to blow the place up."

Ellen hustled her in the front door, steering her towards
the nearest bedroom. "Nice hairdo! What did you come as?"

Scully caught a glimpse of her reflection in a hallway
mirror as Ellen scurried her along. As a change, she'd
had her hair curled into ringlets and piled on top of her
head. She wasn't sure about the style and was struggling
to unbutton her coat when her friend's words sunk in.

"'Come as'? What do you mean?"

They entered the bedroom where everyone's coats and wraps
would be left. Ellen gave her a look. "I'm a tigress -
I've got a beautiful half-mask to put on to complete the
effect. Wait until you see it! Soooo, what did you come
as?" She looked eagerly at the FBI agent, who was now
hesitating, the coat half off her shoulders.

"I thought this was just a cocktail party..."

Ellen eyed her. And her simple but effective crimson
dress. "You mean...you didn't know it was fancy dress? Oh
no! The damn answering machine - I knew I'd forget
something! Oh damn..." She began to pace. "It's okay,
we'll think of something for you."

"But why the sudden change?" Scully was bewildered. Why
couldn't anything in her life go right...?

"Thought it would be more fun! Anyway, we could add
something to your dress to turn you into something or
someone...Wait! Of course! I've got another dress that I
was considering. All today I was dithering between them
as I set up for tonight. It'll fit you fine." With that,
Ellen raced off into another room.

Dana stood in the same spot on the bedroom carpet, mind
reeling. "Ellen..."

The woman came racing back and shoved something long and
black at her. A full-length Gothic velvet dress. With
long sleeves, a modest neckline, and gold symbols over
the bodice and arms.

"Ellen..."

"You got me intrigued with that silk shirt yesterday. I
went and looked through Dark and Stormy Night, and I just
couldn't resist it. Isn't it beautiful?"

"Well, yes..."

"Okay, get it on. Guests could arrive early, and we're
gonna have to redo your hair to suit that skirt." Ellen
began rummaging through her make-up bag for some brushes
and combs.

Scully hesitated, holding the dress. It was exquisite. It
felt beautiful under her fingers. She wanted to see what
she looked like in it. So much material. Things were
happening so fast, but she couldn't hold Ellen up any
more, so she quickly got out of the crimson dress and
pulled the ripples of black over her head.

Before she could have a proper look in the full-length
mirror, Ellen sat her down at the dressing table and
undid her hair. Some frantic styling had the ringlets
into curls and waves, some frantic searching produced
some stronger lipstick and eyeshadow, and some frantic
indecision had Scully deciding to discard her silver
filigree necklace and leave her neck bare of ornaments.

Dana looked in the full-length mirror at last. A medieval
maiden stared back. The fullness and curl of her hair
matched the long lengths and body of the skirt. Since the
ringlets had been so tightly collected on top of her
head, the locks were a bit wild and unruly even after
styling, but that just added to the image. Ellen had
pinned up a little hair from above her ears, just to
counter the effect.

Ellen ducked out, then came back in. "People are
arriving!"

"Oh, Ellie... I'm so sorry about this. I mess up in
helping you, I mess up the dress, waste all of your
time..."

"Forget it. Haven't had so much fun since the parties in
college. I'll go meet and greet. You go into the dining
room. Remember where it is?"

"Yeah."

Her friend disappeared. Scully took another look at her
reflection, sighed, and headed out into the hall,
remembering to pick up a handful of her skirt so she
would be sure not to trip over it.

She entered the dining/entertainment area. There across
the dancefloor was one small, intimate table. Set for
two. Bathed by candlelight.

And seated at the table was one guest. The candlelight
danced on the swirls and dips in the sleeves of his black
silk shirt.


END PART TWO OF THREE.

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The X-Files The Mark of Zorro III "Let the Silk Fall
Where it May" (3/3) Rated PG-13
By Ten
E-mail kristena@ocean.com.au
Disclaimer in Part One


"Oh God..." she whispered.

He stood, his expression thunder-struck. And then she saw
he was wearing black leather trousers. Her doctor and FBI
personas shattered then and there. Her soul was too busy
howling in desire and gratitude to notice.

"Sc - Dana..."

She noticed his hair was less restrained than usual, the
front all gorgeously mussed.

"Mulder...what are you doing here?" /What are you doing
to ME?/


Mulder stood and stared. Compared to the little black
dress episode, this black dress had kilometres more
material to it. Yet his own reaction was ten times
greater in comparison. Her pale skin stood out, the slope
of her collarbone more dazzling than a diamond necklace.
The hollow of her throat enchanted more than a jewel. Her
hair was wild. He wanted to run his fingers through it
like a child running through a field.

/Breathe./

They stared at each other for several minutes before
Mulder remembered she had asked a question. "I got an e-
mail from Skinner's office asking me to be here."

"Like *that*?"

"No... I thought it was an off the record meeting. She
had this stuff for me when I came. She made me park
around the back."

"She?"

"Ellen." Mulder did know her, having met her at Scully's
a few times. Pieces began slotting into place. "Kim must
have set up the e-mail. And when Ellen explained what she
was doing, well, it was a little late to stop it...
And...I wanted to see you like that." He shuffled
guiltily.

There was a noise behind Scully. She turned. Ellen was
standing in the doorway with immense satisfaction on her
face. "Don't you two make a lovely couple. Sorry about
the runaround, but you have to admit this is a great set
up. Now, the food is all laid out on the buffet table,
there's music waiting at the stereo, and if things
progress to the point where a bedroom is required, then
I'd recommend the room three doors up from here on your
left. Its got everything you might need. Have a nice
night - I've got a cocktail party to attend at my place."

Scully folded her arms. "Ellen, I can get Kim in trouble
for misusing top level FBI e-mail addys."

"If you still feel that way in the morning, fine." Her
friend gave her a look of lofty dignity. Then she winked
and disappeared.

Mulder moved out around the table. Not moved. Rippled,
Dana noticed in satisfaction. He was also wearing black
boots.

"Scully...I don't want you to feel awkward. After Ellen
explained, I just thought that if we have a nice dinner
and perhaps dance and just enjoy dressing up for a bit,
that it would...satisfy...the problems I've - we've -
been having lately."

"Oh," she said quietly as he came up to her.

"We need some time together that's not connected to work.
To be Dana and Fox for a while."

She was surprised he mentioned his first name, but let it
pass without comment.

"So, what do you think?" he asked again.

"Let's try it."

His smile nearly melted her legs. "Great!" He turned and
offered her his arm. "May I escort this lovely lady to
get something to eat?"

She laughed and accepted.

They had a light dinner. Mulder put a CD on to keep them
company. Scully had to admit that Ellen was being crafty.
Their outfits were sexy, but the music was a mix of the
year's hits, not just romantic songs. They didn't have
much of the wine, but the talk was plentiful. Fun,
teasing, informative.

Mulder and that outfit were a heady combination, but she
had imagined so much lately that she was able to stop it
from overpowering her after the first surprise. It was
his openness that fascinated her at the moment, even more
than his clothes. His soul was naked, not hidden.

She realised they had spent so much time and energy on
restraint and professionalism in the last few weeks that
it had made the situation worse, made them avoid each
other and kept the lust at fever pitch. And now that they
were relaxing, taking the time to be themselves with each
other, the awkwardness was nowhere near as bad. Over
dinner neither of them had made a single innuendo slip.

She fixed him with a firm look. "Soooooo, what went
through your mind when Ellen showed you what she wanted
you to wear?"

"That your friend had the hots for me. And that she had a
very good eye, because the sizes were perfect. I was
intrigued."

"That leather..."

"I can take it off -" He gave her a look. "-and put my
jeans back on."

"No need."

"You weren't intrigued by this set-up?"

"I didn't get much of a chance. I was rushed into this
under false pretences."

Mulder fingered the tablecloth. "Does it make you
uncomfortable? Angry?"

"No." She felt relaxed and happy.

"Dana, would you like to dance?"

/I guess it's as close as we can dare get./ Scully held
some of her skirt up in one hand so she could dance
properly. It frustrated her that the material prevented
her from fully holding his hand. They flowed together
around the floor, velvet and silk and leather, hand in
hand, an arm around each other.

"We did need this." Dana said contentedly.

Fox nodded. "We should do it more often. It's nice not to
be drowning in a trenchcoat."

"I'm wearing enough velvet to make a circus tent."

"Velvet isn't for circus tents. And it's nice to be
bathed in candlelight instead of flashlight beams."

Her smile turned serious. "I'm sorry I didn't ask you to
the cocktail party."

"Why didn't you?" he asked quietly.

"I thought you might say no." Before he could reply, she
finished her confession. "And I thought you might say
yes."

"You're that worried about me? Dana, I'd never -"

"I'm that worried about *us*. I want us to keep our
professional partnership but I want us to be able to..."

"To acknowledge and explore what we feel for each other?"

"Yes." She had never said that word with as much courage
as she did now.

"I care very much for our working partnership, Scully. I
don't want to lose it, but to not be able to tell you how
I feel and to always be wondering when some other guy is
going to show up..." The silk shimmered as he sighed.
"What I feel for you... I can survive on our friendship,
but no one else will ever come anywhere near you. I've
never believed in fate apart from when it comes to you.
To meeting you. I'm prepared to take things however you
want them, but I need you to know that I love you."

They had stopped dancing. Their bodies, at least.

Dana moved her hand from his back. It slid across the
silk easily, around to his ribs, up his chest onto the
skin of his neck, over his jaw and cheek to run through
his hair, then return to settle against his face, palm on
his cheek, a finger stroking his earlobe, thumb playing
with his sideburn.

"Remember I once said not everything is about you?"

He winced. "Yes."

"In a way, that is true. I have my own life, my own
interests. But with my heart, with my love, everything is
completely about you. For you."

She raised herself up on her toes to try to reach his
lips. He immediately met her halfway. The kiss was tender
and rapidly headed into passionate. They stood there
kissing and holding for ages until Dana felt her legs
getting sore. Apart from some breathlessness, the rest of
her had never been better. She gasped as she felt
Mulder's fingers tracing along her collarbone. He
immediately stepped back a little.

"Sorry... I didn't mean to rush things."

"It's fate," she reminded him with a smile, pressing her
lips to his jaw.

"Doesn't mean we can't pace it out how it suits us." He
put his cheek to her forehead and danced them around a
little more, bodies closer, arms tightly around each
other.

Dana thought of all the times she'd ruthlessly pressed
down her feelings for him, how she had comforted herself
by thinking /One day./

Now she was thinking *To-day.*

"I've decided what pace I want to set. And I've decided
that your shirt is distracting me."

"Hey, no fair. *I* want to distract you."

Dana upped the pace even more, almost dislocating his
shoulder in rushing him to the recommended bedroom...
They entered it to find black satin sheets on a king-
sized bed.

"Am I sensing a pattern here?" Fox grinned.

There was a bunch of roses on a dresser next to the bed,
giving off beautiful perfume, lotions in bottles, candles
waiting to be lit and contraceptives waiting for...

"Mulder..."

"Yes?"

"Get that shirt off!"




Afterwards they lay together, their heartbeats the only
language they needed.




The intimate holding was wonderful. After a while, Mulder
went to have a shower in the connecting bathroom. Scully
eyed the door for three minutes before deciding to join
him. She started to get up, then felt her thigh slide
over silk. The Zorro shirt, bless it. She smiled and
picked it up, running the material through her fingers.

"Ahem."

Mulder lounged in the bathroom doorway, puppy dog look
firmly in place. "I was getting lonely in there, and now
I find I've been unsurped. Actually, I figure I've been
used under false pretences."

"What?"

"You love my shirt more than me!"

She laughed. "Of course not! It can't compare to you."

"Really?" He seemed slightly mollified.

She kissed the silk, then held it out. The material
rippled through her fingers to the floor. "See?
Completely unresponsive."

"I don't know. If you kissed me that way, I'd probably
melt insensible to the floor too!"

"You'd better not. My plans for you require you to be
conscious."

"Plans?"

"101 things you can't do with a dead shirt, but you can
do with a live, alert Mulder." She picked up another
packet from the dresser.

"I pray I'll hold out for all 101..."




Next Friday Mulder was at home, lying on his couch in
casual clothes, grinning idiotically up at the ceiling.
Dana would arrive soon, then they could keep counting to
101... Their new relationship had dissipated the torture
and distraction - even before they got as far as kissing,
just being able to share their feelings and relax around
each other had popped the overblown balloon and let the
air in it breathe. The lust had been expressed but the
love in it kept on. They could concentrate at work, and
functioned even better together on their last case.

A knock at the door. Not Scully's distinct knock. Mulder
was glad he could differentiate, he didn't want to give
anything away by opening the door with a big sappy look
on his face.

"Hello, Sir." Mulder blinked in surprise.

Skinner was holding a laden box. "I wanted to return your
literature."

"Oh, sure. Thanks." Mulder moved back and gestured to the
entranceway table. "Just there will be fine." He wondered
if he should offer a drink. If he did, then Scully might
arrive while their boss was there. /So what if she does?
It's not like she'll be wearing nothing but her
trenchcoat... I can just say we're doing some paperwork
so we can have a free weekend. And if I don't ask him,
he'll get suspicious./ So he asked.

"Yes, thank you. Coffee, black, no sugar."

"Sure, have a seat." There was no incriminating evidence
in the living room - the one other time they'd been here,
they used his bedroom. The other times had been at the
holiday house and Scully's apartment. But not every
night. It depended on their workload, and they had to
tread carefully as they adjusted to their new positions.
The one case they had dealt with was local and the killer
caught within two days. It had been a good test of their
changed circumstances. They passed the test very well -
they had deliberately not slept together during it, and
managed to survive because they were still together just
like in the rest of their partnership. At the moment they
were on consults again, but if a case came through, they
would have to hold off. That was the plan anyway. Fine-
tuning was bound to be in order...

Mulder brought the drinks in.

"Is Agent Scully here?"

/Do you think she's hiding under the bed until you
leave?/ "No, she will be along though." He gave the
paperwork excuse. Skinner nodded from the armchair.

Mulder sat on his couch. "Do you have any questions about
the stuff I lent you?"

"No. It was informative. I don't need any more for now.
You still got that static electricity problem in your
office?"

"No, Sir." Mulder's answer was truthful. "I think the
gremlin has decided to leave us alone for a while."

"Good. And excellent work on the case and these consults.
The talks you and Scully gave to Bernard's group were
very impressive."

Mulder had noticed Skinner at the back of the conference
room on Wednesday, watching them intently. The same when
he was allotting them assignments in his office. Did he
know?

Scully's knock. When Mulder got to the door, he turned
and asked Skinner a question as he flicked the deadbolt,
so Scully would know that he had company and would act
accordingly. /Why am I bothering?... After how Skinner
came across the two of us on the Weekend of the Little
Black Dress, he probably thinks we've been involved for a
while. But he hasn't said anything./

Scully entered and greeted Skinner calmly. Her eyes met
Mulder's briefly in a look which anyone else would
describe as calm, but he knew to interpret as "Are we in
trouble here?"

"Late hours," the A.D. commented, then sipped more
coffee, still scrutinising.

"Yes, Sir." Mulder indicated the files on the coffee
table. "We thought if we boned up on this next consult,
we could have a clear weekend. Another case is bound to
come up soon." The files had been gone over already, but
Mulder always had some lying around, and just as well.
Their tale would have seemed pretty lame if they had no
folders for props.

Skinner finished off his coffee and rose. "I'd better
rinse this out and go."

"It's okay, Sir. You can leave it there." Mulder rose,
relieved, to escort him to the door.

At the doorway to the living room, Skinner turned,
speaking to the both of them. "By the way, I am fine
about this long-term undercover consultation the two of
you are on. It is not interfering with your other work."

Mulder heard Scully make a faint noise between a
protestation and a gasp of alarm. He was distracted by
the A.D.'s expression though. Was that a trace of a
satisfied grin? Then it was gone, replaced by total
sternness.

"But if you ever give the gremlin cause to start a cold
shower in the basement or on a case, I'll censure. Got
it?"

"Yes Sir..." both said at once.

Skinner looked at the box of succubi information as he
passed it. He sighed. "I think you got the better deal."

He disappeared out the door. Mulder slowly followed and
locked it. He inhaled deeply and walked back in to slump
on the couch. "Well now... Conspiracy. I hope he wasn't
the one who chose the black gear - I don't think I could
take it..."

Scully came and sat beside him, very close as they
pondered.

She laughed. "How can we tell *him* off for misusing
government e-mail addys...?"

"Just as well we don't want to." He interlaced his
fingers with hers.

"True. Now get that shirt on so I can get it off you!"


THE END. (PART THREE OF THREE.)
(And of the series, which wasn't intended to be a series
in the beginning...)