Here endeth part 5... parts 6-9 posted simultaneously. Let me know if there are problems with the posting at nvrgrim@aol.com. From nvrgrim@aol.com Mon Sep 16 23:05:13 1996 Path: news.ro.com!www.nntp.primenet.com!nntp.primenet.com!howland.erols.net!EU.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!newsxfer2.itd.umich.edu!portc01.blue.aol.com!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsbf02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: nvrgrim@aol.com (NVRGRIM) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: "A Notorious Affair" by Nicole Perry 6/9 Date: 17 Sep 1996 00:05:13 -0400 Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364) Lines: 420 Sender: root@newsbf02.news.aol.com Message-ID: <51l81p$4ds@newsbf02.news.aol.com> Reply-To: nvrgrim@aol.com (NVRGRIM) NNTP-Posting-Host: newsbf02.mail.aol.com This is part six of a nine-part post. Author's Note and Disclaimer can be found at the beginning of part 1. If there are problems with the posting (or comments on the story!) I'm at nvrgrim@aol.com. A Notorious Affair (6/9) by Nicole Perry nvrgrim@aol.com 8/6/96 Mulder found the office easily enough, slipping inside quickly to ensure he was not followed. The room was filled with heavy, exceedingly masculine furniture, and Mulder was certain that Dana hadn't had an influence on the decor. The door which she had spoken of was located on the far side of the room, and as she had warned him, the lock was far from typical. Rather than a keyhole or even a deadbolt, there was a small panel that slid back to reveal a series of buttons beneath. Some type of coded access, he thought, wondering if it was also tripped with an alarm warning system. From inside his jacket, he pulled out a small case containing an assortment of tools. Crouching in front of the lock, he settled down to work. Not for the first time, Dana wished she was wearing a watch. Her best guess was that fifteen minutes had passed, but she couldn't be absolutely certain. Valenkov had rejoined her long enough to share a dance, but had spent the rest of the time engaged in conversation with Druyev and two other men who often frequented his dinners at the club. Dana chanced a nervous glance up the stairs, but saw no sign of Mulder. Perhaps he's run into trouble, she thought, wondering if she dared go up and check on him. She made another lazy circle of the main rooms, smiling at Valenkov as she passed. He appeared to be completely consumed by the discussion, and she finally decided to take the chance. Walking as quickly as possible, Dana made her way up the staircase, reassured by the fact that Valenkov couldn't see the stairs from the room in which he stood. At the top of the stairs, she turned and made her way to her husband's office. The door was shut, and she opened it quietly, unwilling to startle Mulder with her entrance. "Mulder?" She whispered his name, hoping he could hear her. "In here," came the response, and Dana headed for the strange door on the far side that stood open. She had never before been inside this room, and was surprised by its immaculate whiteness. It reminded her of some kind of laboratory, containing several long tables covered with equipment, some of which she could not identify. Mulder stood in front of one of them, an array of papers arranged in front of him, holding a small device in his hand. "You got inside," Dana marveled, smiling her approval. "There isn't a lock made I can't crack," Mulder replied, the teasing lilt in his voice disappearing as he continued. "Is there a problem?" "No, no," she quickly reassured him. "It just seemed as though you'd been gone awhile, and I thought I should check." She looked worried, and Mulder hastened to banish her fear. "All's well here -- in fact, I'm nearly through." "What's that you've got?" Dana asked, pointing at the object in his hands. "It's a camera," he explained, holding it up for her perusal. "It's so small," she wondered. "Does it actually work?" Mulder grinned. "Top of the line. Never underestimate the ingenuity of Uncle Sam." He resumed his task, photographing each of the documents in turn, making sure to capture all of the information within the frame. "I thought you were to find these papers and bring them in," Dana said, moving closer to him. Her dress swished across the floor as she walked and Mulder couldn't help but be distracted by the sound. "Well, technically, I am," he answered, continuing to take the pictures. "But now isn't the time. If Anton were to come up here later and find them missing, it could be dangerous for you." Mulder looked up at her then, and he could see a twinge of fear in her wide blue eyes. "Besides," he added, "I'm not positive that these are the right ones -- they seem to be, but I want Skinner to see the photographs first, to be sure." Dana nodded. "I understand." She waited quietly as he finished taking the last of the photographs, and then carefully replaced each piece of paperwork exactly where he had found it. He worked as quickly as he dared, unwilling to risk a mistake. "All through," Mulder finally announced, closing the last of the file drawers. "Now, let's get back down to that party before we're missed." Dana walked out of the room ahead of Mulder, waiting in the office as he locked the annex door behind them. When she heard the lock click shut, she moved to the office door and opened it slowly, half-expecting Valenkov to be standing behind it. The hallway was empty and she looked back at Mulder, waiting near Valenkov's desk. "All clear," she whispered, moving out into the hall. She could hear Mulder, following a few steps behind, and for a moment Dana was certain that all would be fine, that they would be able to make their way back downstairs undetected. Reaching the curve where the hallway met the top of the stairs, however, her breath caught in her throat as she looked down to see Valenkov gazing back up at her. "Mulder!" His name was a low cry on her lips that came too late, as she felt him stop directly behind her and realized he'd been spotted as well. Mulder pulled her back into the shadows of the hallway with one strong arm, but his touch did nothing to ease her panic. "Mulder, he's seen us!" Dana moaned as she whirled to face him. "What are we going to --" "I'm going to kiss you," he told her, a dark intensity in his eyes. "But --" His words were so shocking she could barely speak. "He'll only think --" "That's exactly what I want him to think," said Mulder as he drew her into his arms. The moment his mouth met hers Dana was rocked by a series of tremors that caused her heart to flutter. His lips caressed hers, his touch so gentle, so sweet, still blessedly familiar despite all the time that had passed. His arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her close, and Dana lost herself in his embrace, in the tenderness of his kiss. One of his hands moved across her back, coming to rest against the pearls that encircled her neck, and his fingers were like fire against her bare skin. Time stopped then and she forgot everything, forgot everything but what it felt like to be held by him, to be safe in his arms, if only for a moment. Mulder didn't think that he could get enough of holding her, of touching her, of kissing her. She felt so delicate and fragile in his arms, and his heart ached with a need to protect her, to keep her close to him always. Her mouth was luscious and warm and he savored the taste of her, relished the softness of her lips against his own. She had wrapped her arms around his neck and he was aroused to the point of pain by the silk of her gloves against his skin. For a moment, he allowed himself to fantasize that she belonged to him, not to someone else. That her kisses were his and his alone, and would be forever. He was too well-trained, however, to be distracted for long, far too conscious of the dangerous situation they were in. Mulder moved his mouth away from hers, trailing kisses down her neck as he glanced over her shoulder, his eyes trained on the top of the staircase. "Oh, Mulder, Mulder, Mulder...." Dana crooned his name, and Mulder was tempted to believe that her passion was genuine until he saw Valenkov reach the top of the stairs, causing him to remember that she was only pretending. "Push me away," he commanded, watching Valenkov approach. The demand was so unexpected that Dana reacted without thinking, bringing her hands to Mulder's shoulders, pushing him away as she stepped back. She turned slightly to see Valenkov standing there, and she raised a hand to her mouth in horror. "Anton..." She used his name as an apology and a plea. "I'm sorry to intrude on this tender scene," Valenkov said, his voice steady and even. "I.... I couldn't help it." Dana fumbled for a response. "He's -- he's been drinking." "Oh, I see." Valenkov's expression was stern, but she could see the pain in his eyes. "And I suppose he carried you up here." Desperation filled her heart as she begged, "Anton, please...." "You love him." It was a statement, not a question. "No, no, of course not." Turning to Mulder, Dana cried, "Please -- go away." It was Mulder who spoke then, addressing his remarks to Valenkov. "For what it's worth as an apology, your wife is telling the truth. I knew her before you, loved her before you. But I wasn't as lucky as you." Mulder met her gaze for a brief moment then, and Dana caught a look in his eyes that frightened her, a look that signaled to her that he was tempted to do something rash. Please, she silently implored him, please don't try anything. Just go, while he'll still let you leave. Dana caught a glimmer of understanding in Mulder's eyes, and knew he'd somehow received her desperate warning. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "Goodnight." Dana watched as he walked down the stairs, wishing desperately that she could follow him out of the house, away from this life. When he disappeared from view, she turned to face the disapproving stare of her husband. "Anton...." She searched for words to explain her actions that he might believe. "Don't be foolish. Mr. Mulder... he threatened to make a scene, unless I agreed to see him alone." "He kissed you." The words escaped from Valenkov's mouth in a venomous hiss. "I... I couldn't help it." Dana felt the fear threatening to consume her and she forced herself to stand her ground. "I tried... I did. You have to believe me, please." "We'll talk about it later," Valenkov replied, his words cold. "Your guests are downstairs -- will you please go to them." Heeding the dismissal in his tone, Dana nodded and started down the stairs, one trembling hand clinging to the banister railing, painfully aware that their discussion was far from over. "It's got to stop!" Mulder waved a hand at Skinner for emphasis, ignoring the glare that the Smoking Man shot in his direction. "It's far too dangerous for her." "Might I remind you, Mr. Mulder, that the young lady entered into this assignment of her own volition," Skinner replied, his tone implacable. Mulder was stung by the truth of Skinner's words, but he refused to be deterred. "That's not the point, sir," he answered, struggling to remain calm. "Valenkov is a vicious man who cannot be trusted, and it isn't right to put her in that kind of situation." "She married him," said the Smoking Man. "We never forced her to go that far." Mulder searched for a response, but came up empty. "It would seem," the Smoking Man continued, "that Miss Scully is perfectly content to have become Mrs. Valenkov. Despite what you may think." A rush of fury consumed him, and Mulder blurted out, "Well, I'm not going to be a party to any of it. I don't think it's right." "Are you asking for a reassignment, Mr. Mulder?" Skinner asked. "If you're unable or unwilling to continue with the job, we can arrange that." Mulder exhaled a worried breath. To be away from Dana? Unable to see her? Unable to watch over her? It seemed to be more than he could bear. "Sir, I don't want to make a rash decision --" "Your opinion on the matter is quite clear," the Smoking Man announced. "Effective immediately, you are removed from this assignment." "But, I --" It was Skinner who cut him off this time, spurred on from a look from the Smoking Man. "It's settled, Mulder. You are to go to Miami tomorrow, as discussed, and have those photographs developed. In the meantime, we'll arrange to have a replacement brought in for you." Mulder started to speak, but the harsh look on Skinner's face stopped him cold. Besides, he thought, you'll be better off if you're off the case. Better off if you're far away from all of it. "As you wish, sir," he replied. "I'll leave for Miami in the morning." As he exited the room, Mulder was all too aware of the weight of the Smoking Man's stare as it bored into his back. "Hello, Mr. Skinner," said Dana as she entered the office. "I hope I'm not too late." "No," the bald man answered. "You're right on time." Dana knew he was only being polite, knew that she was nearly a half-hour late for their assignation, but she'd been unable to help herself. She wasn't feeling well, hadn't felt well for the past couple days, and it had taken her longer than expected to get ready to come into town. "You wanted to see me?" "Yes," Skinner replied as he motioned her over towards a chair. Dana sank into it gratefully, relieved to be off of her feet for a moment. "First off, I wanted to congratulate you on the work you've done for us so far." Dana forced a smile to her face. "I'm happy to be of whatever help I can, sir." "You're doing quite well," Skinner responded, taking a seat opposite her. "We have absolutely no complaints." A pause, then, "The main reason I asked you to come up here today is to let you know that we're going to be changing your contact in about a week." "What?" The shock of Skinner's words cut through some of the dizziness she was feeling. "What do you mean, sir?" "Mr. Mulder is being reassigned to another case," Skinner said. Suddenly Dana felt as though she might faint. "And why is that, if I may ask?" "Well," Skinner answered slowly, "Mr. Mulder requested a transfer. It seems he feels that he needs more challenging work." He's leaving you, Dana thought. He's leaving you and never looking back. Now you know for certain that he never cared for you. Aloud, she remarked, "I can understand. This must have become a bit routine for him." "Seems so," Skinner replied. "Mulder's going to hang around 'till the new man arrives. A fellow called Krycek -- we're bringing him in from the States." He looked closely at her and then asked, "Mrs. Valenkov, are you alright?" "I'm fine," Dana answered, brushing away his concern. "Just a bit tired, is all." "Well," said Skinner, "take care of yourself. We can't afford to have you getting sick, now can we." "No sir," she replied, rising unsteadily to her feet. "If that's all, sir, I think I'll be going now." Skinner nodded. "Get some rest, why don't you." "I'll do that, sir," said Dana, as she made her way towards the door. Mulder sat on the park bench in their usual spot, waiting for Dana. He was all too aware of the fact that this might be the last he'd see of her, and the thought pained him deep in his soul. It's for the best, he told himself, fighting to believe the words. She doesn't want you, she never has. At that moment he saw her approach, her face pale beneath her bright auburn hair. "Mr. Mulder," Dana said as she sat down next to him, tucking her brown skirt beneath her. "Mrs. Valenkov," he replied. The few days that had passed since he'd last seen her felt like years, and there was something in her face that made him wonder if they'd been difficult for her as well. "How are you?" "Fine," she answered, her voice cold. "It's a dull town -- nothing new happens." A twinge of fear ran up his spine as Mulder asked, "Any domestic troubles from the other night?" Dana shook her head. "None at all," she said. "Everything's fine at home." Mulder was flooded with a peculiar combination of relief and jealousy. "Oh. Then I suppose this is just a social visit." "A little fresh air helps," she replied with a shrug of her shoulders. "Are you sick?" Mulder asked, and the look of clinical detachment in his face angered Dana, made her remember Skinner's words, made her remember that she was no more than a hired hand. "No," she said, enunciating her words carefully. "A bit of a hangover." Dana saw his face darken and felt a small rush of pleasure. "Ah," he said. "I forgot. It's always a party at Anton's, isn't it." His words pained her but she forced a smile. "Well, it lightens my chores." Mulder looked away from her then. "Yes," he said slowly. "I suppose being a rich man's wife would be a little hard to take." I wish I were your wife, she thought. Angry now, Dana asked, "Don't you find Havana a little hard to take?" "It's a fine city," he answered, "most of the time." But not fine enough for you, Dana thought. Not fine enough for you to stay. They were both silent then, a quiet so deep and long that Dana started to feel uncomfortable. The fact that she wasn't feeling well didn't help matters any, and she stood up to leave. "Going so soon?" Mulder asked, his tone nonchalant. "Well," she replied, "there's really nothing more to say." He gazed up at her but made no move to rise from the bench. "Where are you headed?" "Back home," she answered, the words heavy on her lips. She didn't expect him to stop her as she turned away, and he didn't. As she walked away from him, Dana forced herself to look straight ahead, yet her heart begged her to turn back for one last glimpse. Though she feared it would be the last time she'd see him, she didn't give in as she made her way through the park. X-6 X-6 Here endeth part 6... parts 7-9 posted simultaneously. Let me know if there are problems with the posting at nvrgrim@aol.com. From nvrgrim@aol.com Mon Sep 16 22:45:16 1996 Path: news.ro.com!www.nntp.primenet.com!nntp.primenet.com!howland.erols.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!in1.uu.net!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsbf02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: nvrgrim@aol.com (NVRGRIM) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: "A Notorious Affair" by Nicole Perry 7/9 Date: 16 Sep 1996 23:45:16 -0400 Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364) Lines: 355 Sender: root@newsbf02.news.aol.com Message-ID: <51l6sc$3s1@newsbf02.news.aol.com> Reply-To: nvrgrim@aol.com (NVRGRIM) NNTP-Posting-Host: newsbf02.mail.aol.com This is part seven of a nine-part post. Author's Note and Disclaimer can be found at the beginning of part 1. If there are problems with the posting (or comments on the story!) I'm at nvrgrim@aol.com. A Notorious Affair (7/9) by Nicole Perry nvrgrim@aol.com 8/6/96 Mulder walked with purposeful strides up to the counter at the photography lab on the second floor of the building. "Mulder," he said to the woman behind the desk. "I'm here to pick up some prints." "Certainly, Mr. Mulder," the woman answered with a curt nod. Her dark hair was pulled back in a large clip, the model of government efficiency. "It will be just one moment." Mulder nodded his acquiescence and leaned against the counter to wait. His mind was racing, thoughts of Dana becoming increasingly hard to push away. Something wasn't right, he was sure of it. There was something she wasn't telling him, and it bothered him in a way he was hard pressed to name. "Here you are, sir," said the woman, returning to hand him a large envelope. Mulder took the envelope from her and opened it, sifting through the photographs inside. They were just as he'd requested, large black-and-white blowups of the paperwork he'd shot in Valenkov's secret office. The negatives were encased in a small plastic folder at the bottom of the envelope and Mulder held it in his hand for a long moment, weighing it carefully. He knew that the Miami analysis boys upstairs were waiting for the prints, waiting to see if they were indeed shots of weapons plans that could be decoded in time to stave off a potential crisis. Waiting for the prints... not the negatives. "Excuse me, ma'am?" Mulder hailed the woman with a wave of his hand. "Yes, Mr. Mulder?" Indicating the plastic box of negatives, Mulder asked, "How long would it take to make another set of these?" "Another set of prints, sir?" The woman looked at him, a quizzical expression on her face. "No," said Mulder, shaking his head firmly. "Another set of negatives, identical to the first." The woman paused for a moment before answering. "Well, it's late now," she replied. "But we'd certainly have them for you first thing in the morning." Perfect, Mulder thought. Aloud, he said, "That would be fine. I'll be back to pick them up." Handing the negatives over to the woman, Mulder scooped up the prints and put them carefully back into their envelope. He exited the photography lab and made his way down the hall towards the elevator. Reaching it, he pressed the down button, although the offices he was on his way to visit were on the fifth floor. When the elevator hit the ground floor, Mulder walked out towards the street, glancing at his watch as he did so. He had about ten minutes before the boys upstairs would be expecting him. Just enough time.... There was a pay phone on the corner, and Mulder picked it up. Dialing the operator, he requested a Washington D.C. extension and waited as the line clicked over. It was answered on the third ring. "Colton here." "Colton," Mulder said, "it's me. Mulder. I need a favor from you." A pause before Colton's reply shot through the wire. "What kind of favor?" "The confidential kind," Mulder replied, hoping that he could indeed trust his arrogant colleague. "And it's very important." The table was exquisitely set, silver and china gleaming in all of the appropriate places. There were candles burning in gorgeous candelabras, and the food that was set out looked delicious. But somehow it all seemed wrong to Dana, a bit off kilter. As though the world had become slightly skewed and she was unable to compensate for the difference. "Everything alright, my dear?" Valenkov asked, taking her gently by the arm as he escorted her to her seat. "Fine, just fine," Dana replied, doing her best to smile brightly. "It looks absolutely lovely." The other guests murmured their agreement to her statement as they moved to their places around the table. It was a fairly large group, eleven people in all. Business associates of Valenkov's, each accompanied by their charming and beautiful wives, dressed in their best finery. Dana was wearing a new emerald green dress Valenkov had given her just for the occasion, and she had to admit it was beautiful. Although at the moment, it felt too tight, too confining, making it hard to breathe although she was certain it was the proper size. "Mrs. Valenkov, may I pour you some wine?" Druyev was the only man at the party who had come alone. Dana had never seen him in the company of a woman, and in her heart of hearts she was certain that this had something to do with the emptiness of his eyes. "That would be wonderful, Mr. Druyev," she answered with a slight nod. As he poured the wine into her glass, Dana was hypnotized by the motion of the red liquid, and blinked her eyes rapidly in an attempt to shake off the dizziness. As the servants began to fill the plates, Dana did her best to take part in the dinner conversation, but the words seemed exceedingly complicated and she found it hard to focus. She filled in the gaps with gracious smiles, hoping that her guests would be unable to see how ill she felt. It was midway through the meal that the first of the cramps hit, slicing through her midsection with a force that was palpable. The third such cramp caused her to gasp aloud in pain as her fork clattered to the floor. "Oh!" "Dana?" She could hear the concern in Valenkov's voice. "What's the matter?" Unable to speak for the moment, Dana merely shook her head. Then another cramp hit, the pain sharper this time, coupled by a wave of dizziness that caused her to fall back in her chair. "Dana!" As though from a great distance, Dana heard Valenkov calling to her, heard the murmurs of the guests and servants as they surrounded her chair. She fought for the strength to answer them, but words had failed her, at least for the moment. "She needs to lie down." The voice was firm, commanding, and Dana realized it was Druyev's. At that moment, several pairs of arms gripped her, helping her to her feet, bracing her against them. Dana struggled to walk, and it took all of her concentration just to put one foot in front of the other. She allowed them to lead her out of the dining room and across the foyer, where she stumbled and would have fallen save for the tight grasp of her husband's hand on her waist. Carefully, Valenkov and Druyev guided her up the winding staircase, accompanied by several of Valenkov's associates. They reached the landing, and just as they turned down the corridor that led towards her bedroom, the dizziness vanished and the pain receded, and Dana experienced a brief moment of clarity. "I need a doctor," she murmured, willing her voice to be strong. "I need to go to a hospital." "Nonsense," Valenkov replied, his arms twined around her in a strange embrace as one of the guests threw open the bedroom door. "A little rest, and you'll be just fine." The cramps returned then, in earnest, and Dana cried out. She felt arms lift her and carry her the remainder of the way, placing her atop the sheets of the bed, her head now resting against the pillows. "Call Rosa," she heard Valenkov tell one of the guests. "We need to get my wife ready for bed." Out of the corner of her eye, Dana saw the guest making his way down the stairs. Druyev broke through the crowd surrounding her bed, a glass of water in one hand and two red pills in another. "Take these," Druyev instructed. "They'll help you sleep." "No," Dana protested, dimly aware of her fear. "I don't want them." "Take them, darling," Valenkov ordered, his voice stern as he slipped an arm behind her neck, enabling her to sit up enough to reach for the glass. Dana looked at him but his image was blurred, distorted by her own pain and agony. "They'll make you feel better. I promise." After a long moment, Dana reached for the pills and swallowed them quickly, washing them down with a long drink of the water. Valenkov allowed her to relax back against the pillows, and she sighed with relief, happy to lie still for a moment. Loud snatches of conversation washed over her but grew fainter and fainter as her eyes fluttered shut, her mind drifting off into a fitful sleep. Mulder paused, his hand poised to knock on the door to Skinner's apartment. He hesitated to bother his superior at home, but his concern finally overrode his reluctance and he pounded on the wood. "Come in," came the response, and Mulder twisted the knob and entered. "Mr. Mulder," said Skinner, a look of astonishment on his face. "This is an unexpected surprise." Mulder hesitated, just inside the door. "I'm sorry to disturb you at home, sir." "Nonsense," Skinner replied. "Actually, I was meaning to phone you and let you know that the photographs were exactly what we needed. They prove Valenkov's complicity beyond a shadow of a doubt. Even without the actual documents, we've got quite a case, although it's too soon yet to move." "Excellent, sir. That is good news." Mulder shifted uncomfortably, hoping that his superior couldn't read his thoughts, hoping that the man had no idea about the plan he'd put into motion. "Tell me, Mulder, what brings you here?" "It's Miss Scully," said Mulder, before correcting himself. "Mrs. Valenkov. She didn't come to our rendezvous today, nor the day before." Skinner frowned. "I thought you were off of this case," he said. "I had expected you to be back in Washington by now." "Krycek arrives tomorrow, sir." Mulder sat down in a chair across from the couch where Skinner was sprawled, a book in his lap. "It's been four days since I've seen her last." "Four days," Skinner remarked. "Must be quite a binge, eh?" Though Skinner's words infuriated him, Mulder did his best not to show it. "I don't think she's been drinking, sir." "In your last report, you said she had been." "I know." Mulder bowed his head in shame. "I thought at first she had been, but now I don't think she was." "But that's what she told you," Skinner said. "Why would she lie?" Mulder shrugged, confused. "I'm not sure, sir. But when I saw her, she looked like the ragged end of nowhere. She wasn't drunk -- she was sick. I'm sure of it." "Mr. Mulder, you've been reassigned." Skinner looked directly at him. "I know, sir." Mulder paused, trying to phrase his next words properly. "But I'd feel better if I could just check on her once more." "That's risky, and you know it." "I'm a friend of the family, sir." Mulder searched the chief's face, craving the permission he so desperately wanted. "It wouldn't be inappropriate for me to stop by." Skinner hesitated before replying. "If you feel you must, then go ahead." A pause, then, "But don't take any chances." "I won't, sir," Mulder promised, rising to his feet and heading for the door. His hand was on the knob when Skinner spoke again. "Call up when you're back," Skinner said. "Let me know she's alright." "I will," Mulder answered, heading out the door. Dana twisted restlessly beneath the bedcovers, her head throbbing, her eyes burning. The pain in her abdomen was intense, severe enough to limit all but the smallest of motions. It was becoming increasingly hard to breathe, and another wave of fear swept over her, threatening to consume her. From a far distance, she heard the sound of the lock being unlatched as the bedroom door opened, and she shrank back from the noise as though from a physical threat. Footsteps approached, growing louder as they neared. A single set this time, meaning he'd come alone. He was always there, accompanying the servants who tended to her needs. Never giving her the opportunity to speak to anyone outside his presence. Never giving her the chance to seek help. The chance to escape. But this was the first time he'd come alone. Something had changed, of that she was sure. With great reluctance, Dana turned her head to the side to see Valenkov walking towards her bed. "Hello, my darling," he said, his voice dark and cold. Dana was unable to answer, looking at him with eyes that were wide and frightened. Part of her still wanted to believe in him, but as the days passed, that part had begun to dwindle and fade, until very little hope remained. "Still feeling under the weather, are you?" Valenkov smiled evilly as he gazed down at her. "Sorry about that." At that moment, Dana knew the truth, and she confronted him with it. "You did this," she accused him, her voice weak. "You did this to me." "Ah," Valenkov chuckled, the sound grating in her ears. "You've figured it out. Much more quickly than I figured out that you betrayed me." "Why?" she asked, begging him for an answer. "It was Druyev who discovered it," Valenkov responded. "He was the one who noticed that the papers in my office were out of order. He was the one who realized that you were an American spy." Dana shivered involuntarily, terrified by his nearness. "No," she begged. "He's wrong, Anton. He's lying to you." "No," said Valenkov, leaning down closer to her. In a subtle mockery of a lover's caress, he brushed a few damp strands of hair away from her forehead. "No, my dear, it is you who lied to me. I behaved like an idiot, believing in you and your clinging kisses." A pained look crossed his features as he continued. "That night, after he told me, I came up to our room to find you sleeping. I stood there, just looking at you. You were so beautiful...." "Anton...." His name was a weak plea on her lips. "I could have killed you then, quickly, without any remorse." Dana looked away, desperate to free herself of his touch. "But I didn't," Valenkov continued, his smile back now, dark and wicked. "Druyev had cautioned me against it, and he was right. It was much better to do it this way, to poison you slowly, so that our friends and servants would see you growing weaker before their very eyes." He sat down on the bed next to her, and Dana was unable to resist as he slipped his fingers beneath her chin and turned her head back to face him. "When you collapsed at dinner the other night, there were witnesses. Witnesses who will swear as to how ill you were. Witnesses who will clear me of any wrongdoing after your death." "Anton, please." Dana gazed up at him helplessly. "Don't do this. Please.... help me." "I'm sorry, my dear," Valenkov replied as he rose to his feet. "You've brought this on yourself. There's nothing more I can do for you." His expression turned her blood to ice. "Save to arrange for a proper burial, when the time comes." Valenkov moved towards the door, pausing when he reached it to glance back over his shoulder. "Sleep well, my princess," he said as he walked out, shutting the door and locking it behind him. Alone again, Dana was unable to stop the tears that spilled down her cheeks. Burying her face in the pillow, she fought to stifle her sobs, unwilling to allow him to hear the sounds of her suffering as she prayed for release. X-7 X-7 Here endeth part 7... parts 8-9 posted simultaneously. Let me know if there are problems with the posting at nvrgrim@aol.com. From nvrgrim@aol.com Mon Sep 16 23:07:15 1996 Path: news.ro.com!www.nntp.primenet.com!nntp.primenet.com!howland.erols.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!newsxfer2.itd.umich.edu!portc01.blue.aol.com!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsbf02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: nvrgrim@aol.com (NVRGRIM) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: "A Notorious Affair" by Nicole Perry 8/9 Date: 17 Sep 1996 00:07:15 -0400 Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364) Lines: 322 Sender: root@newsbf02.news.aol.com Message-ID: <51l85j$4fh@newsbf02.news.aol.com> Reply-To: nvrgrim@aol.com (NVRGRIM) NNTP-Posting-Host: newsbf02.mail.aol.com This is part eight of a nine-part post. Author's Note and Disclaimer can be found at the beginning of part 1. If there are problems with the posting (or comments on the story!) I'm at nvrgrim@aol.com. A Notorious Affair (8/9) by Nicole Perry nvrgrim@aol.com 8/6/96 Mulder shifted uncomfortably in the seat of the car, crossing his arms to lean against the steering wheel as he gazed through the windshield. The Valenkov estate was silent, with many of the windows dark. He had been waiting for quite some time, and it was growing late. Mulder was beginning to doubt that Valenkov would leave the house at all that evening, and he was wrestling with the idea of knocking anyway, of facing the man's wrath in order to get the answer he needed. He knew that would be a mistake, but his fear for Dana was tangible, gnawing at his heart with an intensity that pained him. His gun was in its holster at his side, and Mulder was more than prepared to use it if need be. Just as he was about to act out of sheer desperation, the front door opened, and Mulder watched as Valenkov strode across the gravel drive towards the car parked at its edge. A man followed, the driver, and Mulder saw him open the back door for Valenkov before climbing into the front seat of the car. A moment later, the engine started, and the car made its way around the circle and down the drive, passing right by the grove of trees where Mulder himself had parked. Mulder waited as long as he was able, wanting to be sure that Valenkov was indeed out of the vicinity before making his move. When he felt fairly certain that he was alone, he got out of the car and walked the few yards up the driveway and across the circle to the imposing entrance to the house. He rang the door chime once and then again, one foot tapping in unconscious impatience as he waited for a response. The butler opened the door after the second chime, his expression one of calm reserve. "Yes?" "Hello," said Mulder, attempting a casual tone. "Fox Mulder, calling on Mr. and Mrs. Valenkov." "Mr. Valenkov is out for the evening, sir," the butler replied in a low voice. "Perhaps you can call again tomorrow." Mulder shrugged, a small smile on his face. "It figures -- that's what I get for not phoning beforehand." A pause, then, "What about Mrs. Valenkov? Is she out as well?" "No, sir." The butler shook his head. "Mrs. Valenkov is ill, I'm afraid. She's not in a condition to receive visitors at present." A dark wisp of fear curled its way up Mulder's spine, and he fought to remain calm. "That's too bad," he said, hoping the butler wouldn't notice the tremor in his voice. "Tell her I hope she's feeling better soon." The butler nodded, and as he began to shut the door, Mulder's heart began to race. Get in there, he thought. You have to get in there and get to her. "Listen here," Mulder interjected, "I can't imagine Mr. Valenkov would be out too late, what with his wife feeling ill. Any chance I could wait around for his return?" The butler frowned, his expression doubtful, and Mulder knew he only had one shot. Lowering his voice to a more confidential tone, he added, "It's rather important business I have to discuss with him." It was obvious that the butler was torn between the instructions he'd been given and a fear of failing his employer by turning him away, and Mulder pressed even further, fighting down the panic. "I'm certain he wouldn't mind if I waited," Mulder told him. "He's quite anxious for this news." "Alright then," came the butler's reluctant answer. "You may wait for Mr. Valenkov in the foyer." "Thanks," Mulder replied, a small bit of relief washing away some of his anxiety. He followed the butler and took a seat on a small bench just inside the door. In a gesture of courtesy, the butler asked, "May I bring you something while you wait, sir?" Mulder shook his head, all too aware of how quickly time was passing. "I'll be just fine, thanks." The butler left him then, vanishing behind a solid oak door that Mulder assumed led to the servants quarters. He waited a few beats to see if the man would return, forcing his body to remain still. When five minutes had passed and all was silent, Mulder rose from the bench and made his way cautiously up the main stairs. He remembered what Dana had told him about the location of Valenkov's office, how it was located directly adjacent to their bedroom. Finding the office, he tried the nearest door, only to find it locked. Undeterred, Mulder slipped a small metal tool from inside his jacket and went to work on the lock. It wasn't complicated and took only a moment before he heard the tumbler slip into place. With a twist of his wrist, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. It was fairly dark in the room, the only illumination coming from a small lamp on a table near the bed. There was a figure in the bed, still and unmoving, and Mulder's heart leapt into his throat as he took a few cautious steps forward. "Dana?" He whispered her name, but got no response. Mulder moved closer, his steps faster now, until he was able to see her there underneath the bedcovers. Beneath her tousled auburn hair her face was ghostly pale, and there were dark shadows under her closed eyes. Tiny beads of sweat stood out on her forehead, and her breathing was labored. "Dana?" His whisper was more insistent this time as he knelt down beside her, reaching out with one trembling hand to touch her cheek. She was dreaming, she had to be dreaming. The fever had been making her delirious for the past several hours, causing her to be plagued by hallucinations that she could not shake. Dana could hear a voice, calling her name, and she fought to ignore it, wanting only to drift away again and put all of this behind her forever. Then she heard it again, her name softly murmured, accompanied by the brush of fingers against her cheek. "Dana? Dana, can you hear me?" Reluctantly, Dana opened her eyes, the world spinning before settling into hazy focus. Her mouth parted in a silent gasp as she saw him kneeling beside her bed, saw the concern in his expression, the blazing intensity in his hazel eyes. "Mulder?" She offered his name up as a question, unwilling to believe that he was there. "Dana..." He smiled slightly, and she could see relief in his gaze. "Yes, it's me. It's Mulder." Needing to touch him, to reassure herself that he was real, Dana pulled her arm from beneath the covers, her breath catching as the pain coursed through her body. He clasped her hand in hers and she sighed. "Oh, Mulder... I'm so glad you came." "I had to," Mulder said as he leaned in towards her. "I couldn't stand it anymore -- waiting and worrying about you." Dana tried to answer, but couldn't find the words. Despite the worry that creased his brow, he looked magnificent kneeling there, his unruly brown hair a contrast to the impeccable lines of his suit. She moved her arm and brought their clasped hands to rest against her chest. "Dana? What's happened to you? Are you sick?" The tenderness in his voice cut at her soul and Dana shut her eyes for a moment in an attempt to hold back the tears. When she felt as though she could speak, she answered him in a whisper. "I'm dying, Mulder." "What?" The word flew out of his mouth in horror. Surely you misheard what she said, Mulder thought, unable to accept her simple statement. Dana nodded, the motion of her head weak against the pillows. "He poisoned me. Anton did... he wants to kill me. He gave me something... poison..." "Dana...." He murmured her name as though it was a magic talisman. "Dana, no...." But the truth was there, obvious in her pained blue eyes. "How? When?" "I don't know... in my food, I suppose." Dana swallowed, and Mulder was aware of how much effort she was expending just to speak. "I've been feeling ill... ever since... ever since the party." A wave of guilt swept over him, powerful in its intensity, rocking Mulder to the core. You did this to her, he thought, stunned by the realization. You're responsible for this. Aloud, he said, "I'm going to get you out of here, Dana." Forcing a confidence he did not feel, he told her, "You're *not* going to die. I'm taking you to a hospital -- you're going to be fine." As though to prove his point, Mulder slipped his arms beneath her, the bedcovers falling away has he gently pulled her up to a sitting position. Holding her in this cautious embrace, Mulder realized how frail she had become in such a short time. Dana trembled in his arms, her skin hot enough to burn through the thin fabric of her white silk nightgown. "Oh, Dana...." Mulder brought her closer to him, as if by holding her tight he could chase the poison right out of her body. Dana barely heard him, still too stunned by his presence to think of anything else. Pulling back slightly to look at him, she said, "I thought you had gone.... I thought you had left Havana." "No," Mulder responded with a shake of his head. "I had to see you once more... I had to speak my piece." His hazel eyes darkened as he met her gaze. "I was getting out because I love you.... I couldn't bear to see you and him together." The words flooded over her in a dizzying rush. Dana raised a hand to Mulder's face, caressing his cheek, the stubble of his jaw rough against her fingertips. "You love me," she murmured, a sudden happiness pushing away the pain. "You *love* me.... why didn't you tell me before?" "I couldn't see straight or think straight," Mulder confessed, his voice hoarse. "When I heard about you and Valenkov.... about the fact that you'd been engaged to him once.... I lost my faith." Dana could see how much that simple statement had cost him to say, could see the pain in his expression, and she remained silent, allowing him to continue. "I lost my faith in you, Dana, and I'll never forgive myself for that." Mulder drew in a deep breath as he looked away in shame. "I was a stupid guy, full of pain.... it tore me up not having you. I acted like a fool, Dana, and I'm sorry." Having made that confession, Mulder forced himself to look back at her, prepared to accept whatever response she gave him, be it anger, disdain, or something even worse. Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet hers, and what he saw there stunned him. Dana smiled at him, a smile full of forgiveness and love so sweet and true that it stole his breath away. "You love me," she repeated softly. "Nothing else matters, if you love me." "Oh, Dana, I do, I do," he told her, brushing his lips against hers, seeking the balm of her mercy. "All the time.... since the beginning." Dana brought her arms up around his neck and pulled him closer, returning the kiss and deepening it. Her tongue parted his lips and Mulder was seized with an indescribable joy, bringing a hand up to run through her sweat-dampened hair, cradling her head in a gentle embrace as he kissed her back. A sudden tremor raced through Dana's body, and as she broke off the kiss Mulder could feel her shaking against him. "Dana?" He couldn't keep the panic out of his voice at the low cry that escaped her lips. "What is it? Are you in pain? "A little," Dana murmured, her voice weak. Despite her words, agony was evident in the darkness of her eyes. "We've got to get you out of here," Mulder repeated, carefully releasing his hold on her, relieved to see that she managed to remain sitting upright. Taking off his suit jacket, he placed it over her shoulders, helping her slip her arms into the sleeves and pulling the lapels across her chest. "Can you walk?" Dana shrugged, and even that small motion seemed to cause her pain. "I don't know...I'm so tired. Anton... he gave me pills, to help me sleep." "That's alright, love," Mulder whispered, tenderly brushing a lock of hair away from her forehead. "You'll be alright." Rising to his feet, Mulder leaned over and gently scooped Dana up, her nightgown trailing across his arms. He cradled her against his chest, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder. Her breaths were coming in rapid, shallow gasps now, and Mulder knew he didn't have much time. Dana snuggled closer to him, slipping one arm behind him, feeling the strength of the muscles in his back beneath his dress shirt. The relief she felt at Mulder's presence was dampened by a dark fear of Valenkov's return. "Mulder..." His name was a faint protest on her lips. "If Anton finds you here...he'll kill you too." "Don't worry about Anton," Mulder answered softly as he carried her towards the door. "He can't do anything to stop me." Mulder shifted his hold on her slightly, and Dana heard the sound of the door opening. The hallway loomed before them, dark and forbidding, and Dana trembled, her eyes sliding shut as he started down the corridor. "Dana..." Mulder lowered his voice to an urgent whisper. "Stay with me, love. You have to stay awake." Dana fought the dizziness and opened her eyes slowly to see his worried face gazing down at her. It was hard, so hard, to push away the sweet oblivion that beckoned to her. She tried to speak, but all that emerged was a low moan. "Stay with me, Dana, hang in just a little bit longer." Dana nodded, searching for the strength to comply with his words. "Say it again, Mulder," she murmured, hoping he would know what she needed to hear. "It keeps me awake." "I love you, Dana..." They were halfway down the corridor. "I love you too... don't ever leave me..." They reached the top of the stairs. "You'll never get rid of me again." They moved down the winding steps. "I'll never try to..." Finally, the front door was there in front of them, the foyer miraculously empty, and Dana breathed a sigh of relief as she buried her face against Mulder's chest. He pulled open the door and she could feel the chill of the night air that carried with it a delicious sense of freedom. X-8 X-8 Here endeth part 8... part 9 posted simultaneously. Let me know if there are problems with the posting at nvrgrim@aol.com. From nvrgrim@aol.com Mon Sep 16 22:46:52 1996 Path: news.ro.com!www.nntp.primenet.com!nntp.primenet.com!howland.erols.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!in1.uu.net!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsbf02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: nvrgrim@aol.com (NVRGRIM) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: "A Notorious Affair" by Nicole Perry 9/9 Date: 16 Sep 1996 23:46:52 -0400 Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364) Lines: 404 Sender: root@newsbf02.news.aol.com Message-ID: <51l6vc$3so@newsbf02.news.aol.com> Reply-To: nvrgrim@aol.com (NVRGRIM) NNTP-Posting-Host: newsbf02.mail.aol.com This is part nine of a nine-part post. Author's Note and Disclaimer can be found at the beginning of part 1. If there are problems with the posting (or comments on the story!) I'm at nvrgrim@aol.com. A Notorious Affair (9/9) by Nicole Perry nvrgrim@aol.com 8/6/96 Almost there, Mulder thought, tightening his hold on the precious woman he held in his tired arms. Moving as quickly as he dared, he made his way across the circle, his steps amplified by the gravel beneath his feet. Halfway down the long driveway, Mulder reached the grove of trees where he had hidden the car. Resting the bulk of Dana's weight against one arm, Mulder fumbled for his key ring, wishing he'd had the foresight to leave the vehicle unlocked. Finding them, he slipped the proper key into the lock of the passenger door. "We're here," he whispered as he leaned down and placed her carefully in the seat. "Good..." The single word was barely audible but Mulder heard it, attuned as he was to her every breath. He knew how hard she was fighting to stay awake, knew how badly she was tempted to succumb to the effects of the poison. "Hang in there," he begged her again, placing a tender kiss on her forehead. "We're almost home." Mulder rolled down her window, hoping that the fresh air would do her some good. Then he closed the door and made his way around to the other side of the car. Slipping behind the wheel, he gunned the engine and pulled the car out from behind the trees and back onto the gravel drive. He had just begun to relax when he saw the headlights, heading directly up the driveway towards them. The shape of the car was unmistakable. The car stopped, blocking their path in a way that left Mulder no room to maneuver. "Mulder!" Dana was wide awake now, reaching across the seat for his hand. He could hear the panic in her voice, and when he turned to look at her, he saw the fear in her deep blue eyes. "What are we going to do?" "I'm going to have a little talk with Anton," Mulder answered, forcing the words out with a measure of calm. "I want you to wait for me right here. Will you do that?" She nodded wordlessly, and Mulder was struck by the trust he saw in her frightened gaze. The idea that she could trust him, have confidence in him, believe in him after all that had happened between them floored him completely. He would not let her down. He owed her at least that much. "I'll be right back," Mulder promised, releasing his grasp of her hand. He pulled his gun from its holster and released the safety catch, hearing her small intake of breath at the sight of the weapon. "Don't worry," he reassured her. "I'm only planning on talking. But it doesn't hurt to be prepared." Dana could see the determination in Mulder's eyes and marveled at the fact that he was willing to put himself at risk for her, heedless of the danger to himself. She marveled at the fact that he had come back for her. Because he loved her. Impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed him quickly. "Be careful." "I will," he said, holding her gaze for a long moment before throwing open the door and stepping out of the car. Dana watched through the windshield as Mulder made his way towards the other car. A door opened and Valenkov's driver emerged, holding open the back door to allow his employer to emerge. "Leave us," Valenkov commanded the driver, motioning towards the house with a wave of his hand. The man didn't hesitate to obey the order, moving past the car where Dana sat without giving her so much as a glance. Valenkov then turned to face Mulder, seemingly unconcerned by the gun that was pointed at his chest. "May I ask, Mr. Mulder, where it is you think you're going with my wife?" Mulder's response was clear and direct. "I'm taking her to the hospital. And there isn't a damn thing you can do about it." "You're wrong about that," Valenkov answered with a shake of his head. "And your persistent pursuit of my wife is about to cost you dearly." "What is going on here?" A new voice rang out as a second man stepped out of the car. He carried an automatic pistol that was trained on Mulder, and as he moved to stand near Valenkov Dana's heart tightened with the realization that it was Druyev. "Anton, who is this man?" Valenkov laughed. "His name is Mulder. He's an old acquaintance of Dana's who can't seem to take no for an answer." Watching them, Dana was rocked by another series of cramps that left her gasping for breath as the world began to spin and blur around her. She could barely hear Druyev as said, "I think he's more than that. I suspect he's working for Skinner -- he's probably the one who helped her break into your files." "Then we kill him," Valenkov responded, his voice cold and dark. As Dana tumbled towards the black abyss of unconsciousness, his were the last words she heard. "Nothing would give me more pleasure than to see him die." A long moment passed during which Mulder's mind was racing, gauging the expression of the man who stood beside Valenkov. He had recognized the man from the party, had seen him with Valenkov then. It was frightening how much this stranger seemed to know about him, and Mulder suddenly felt their chance for escape slipping away. "Drop the gun," Valenkov ordered, and Mulder knew that he had to take the chance anyway, had to put his plan into action though the presence of the other man might ruin it completely. All too aware of the gun the stranger held pointed at him, Mulder lowered his own gun to the gravel, kicking it to the side as directed with a quick move of his foot. "You aren't going to kill me, Valenkov," Mulder declared, willing his voice to be strong. "Unless you want this house of cards you've built to come tumbling down." "What are you talking about?" Valenkov asked. "Your friend is right," Mulder replied. "I do work for Skinner, and I was the one who broke into your office. You've been punishing the wrong person -- Dana's no spy." Valenkov's mouth tightened. "Dana betrayed me, and she deserves what's coming to her." Mulder resisted the urge to slam his fist into Valenkov's jaw. "The game's up, Valenkov. All the files, all the plans -- I photographed everything." "We're well aware of that," Valenkov laughed. "A source within your own department told us of their existence, which only confirmed my suspicions about Dana. Those photographs give you no leverage." "Oh, no?" Mulder asked coolly. It was Druyev who spoke this time. "Negotiations take place on higher levels than you would expect. Private conversations between our governments are occurring as we speak, exchanges of secrets that will ensure that those photographs will never see the light of day." "Perhaps those won't," Mulder conceded. "But there's another set waiting in Washington D.C. And if I don't make a certain phone call within the next hour, there'll be a very interesting article in the newspaper tomorrow. An article that details everything that I know about your plans here in Havana, and will bring the kind of media exposure that will bring everything to a screeching halt." Valenkov paled. "I don't believe you. That goes against all protocol -- you wouldn't take such a risk." "To hell with protocol!" Mulder exploded. "Damn the spy business and all the rest of it. I'm not asking for much here, but make no mistake -- I *am* willing to risk everything to get it." Valenkov exchanged a glance with Druyev, but said nothing. Mulder's heart was pounding as he realized that Druyev hadn't moved the gun a millimeter, keeping it aimed directly at him throughout the conversation. Desperate now, Mulder continued, "What's it gonna be, Valenkov? The choice is yours. Let us go, and I'll call off the article. Otherwise, you're going down." "What about your patriotism, Mulder? What about your loyalty to your country?" Valenkov shrugged. "I don't think I can trust you to keep up your end of the bargain." "You can trust me," Mulder replied, his voice dark. "I've done my job for Skinner and the rest of them. What they do with their copies of the photographs isn't my concern. Besides, there are some things that are more important than patriotism," he finished, suddenly realizing the truth in the words. "Very nice speech," Valenkov remarked. "However, it changes nothing. Kill him," he said to Druyev, as he started towards the other car. "I'm taking my wife upstairs and putting her back to bed." Mulder's heart sank at the knowledge that he had failed. Had failed to protect her, had failed to save her. He was startled to hear Druyev speak to him in a low voice. "The article...who does it implicate?" Mulder immediately seized on the man's meaning. "Valenkov... only him. I don't have tangible proof on anyone else." "Thank you," said Druyev, and as Mulder saw his finger tighten on the trigger his eyes widened at the thought that he had been tricked. Then Druyev moved his arm, a quick blur of motion just as the weapon fired, catching Valenkov in the back. With a surprised cry, Valenkov fell to the ground just short of the car. Mulder remained frozen, stunned by the turn of events. Druyev tucked his own weapon into his coat before reaching to the ground and retrieving Mulder's gun. Handing it to him, Druyev uttered four short words. "Get out of here." Mulder searched the man's eyes for a moment, and then nodded, knowing any further words were superfluous. Turning away, he walked back to the car and climbed inside. Dana was slumped against the seat and Mulder panicked for a moment until he realized that she was still breathing, her pulse weak beneath his fingertips. He caressed her forehead gently, then turned on the engine. The other car now out of the way, Mulder headed down the drive, picking up speed as he reached the street. It was the sound that woke her, a strange rumbling that pulled her gradually out of a deep sleep. Dana opened her eyes, surprised to see clean white tiles on the ceiling above her head. She blinked and looked around, realizing that she was in a hospital room, a private one by the looks of it. There were several bouquets of flowers on a table near the window, and a small tray bearing a pitcher of water and several glasses. She took a deep breath, relieved to discover that the cramps had disappeared. Looking down, Dana realized that she was attached to an IV, which was pumping an unidentifiable fluid into her arm. And it was then that she noticed the source of the rumbling sound. It was coming from Mulder. He was seated in a chair alongside her bed, holding one of her hands in both of his. He was wearing a different suit than she remembered, which signalled to her that some time had passed, but despite the change of clothes he looked a bit disheveled. His head was resting atop the blankets, near their joined hands, and he was snoring loudly, each exhale of breath ruffling the tousled brown hair that had fallen across his forehead. Dana thought she had never seen a more beautiful sight in all of her life. "Mulder?" She called his name, but all that emerged was a faint croak. Swallowing, she tried again, and was rewarded by a slightly louder result. "Mulder?" Mulder heard her voice and it jolted him back to consciousness. He lifted his head from the bed, somehow embarrassed to be caught sleeping when he was supposed to be keeping vigil. "Dana! You're awake!" She smiled at him, and Mulder was thrilled to see that the sparkle had returned to her blue eyes. "Looks like I wasn't the only one catching up on sleep." Mulder chuckled in response, relieved beyond measure to see her looking so much better. "Guilty as charged." He scooted his chair closer to her, never releasing his grasp of her hand. "How are you feeling?" "Better," she answered. "Where am I?" "A hospital in Miami. We brought you here by military chopper." "How long have I been out?" "Nearly two days," he told her with a smile. "I thought somebody should keep an eye on you." She returned the smile, warmed by his words. "Glad to see you've been doing such a good job of it," she teased. He leaned over then and kissed her gently. "Are you making fun of me again?" "That's my job," she replied, breathless from the tenderness of the kiss. The door opened then and a white-uniformed nurse stepped inside. "Mrs. Valenkov, it's good to see you awake." The nurse crossed the room and Mulder backed away, reluctantly releasing his grasp of her hand to allow the nurse to stand by the bed. Checking the monitoring equipment that stood behind it, the nurse announced, "Everything looks fine. I'm going to send the doctor in to have a look at you." "Thank you," Dana answered, wincing slightly as the nurse checked her IV. "Can I bring you anything?" The nurse asked. "Maybe just a little water," Dana replied. "I'll get it," Mulder said, seemingly happy to have a job to do. The nurse glanced at Mulder and then smiled at Dana as she headed for the door. "I'll be back with the doctor in a few minutes, Mrs. Valenkov," she said, pulling the door shut behind her. Mulder poured water into one of the glasses until it was half full, and then made his way back to the bed. He sat down beside Dana, careful not to jostle the IV as he did so. "This okay?" he asked. She nodded, using her arms to rise to a sitting position. Mulder adjusted the pillows behind her with his free hand, allowing her to recline back against them. He moved the glass towards her lips, steadying it for her as she took a long sip. "Mmmm," Dana said, another smile gracing her features. "Tastes good." "I would imagine so," Mulder replied, putting the glass down on the bedside table. "After nothing but that," he said, indicating the IV. Mulder took her hand again, content merely to sit beside her and drink in her beauty. Even dressed in a pale blue hospital gown, her auburn hair a messy tumble of waves, he thought she was the loveliest thing he'd ever seen. He already knew that she had stolen his heart, but he realized in that moment that he would love her forever. Dana was quiet for a time before she spoke. "Mulder...what happened? I don't remember anything after you got out of the car, not really. Except that Anton --" Her voice broke. "Anton said something about wanting to kill you." He could see unshed tears glistening in her eyes. "Oh, Mulder...I was so afraid." "You don't have to be afraid anymore," Mulder reassured her, stroking her hand. "Anton can't bother you now. He's dead." Some of the color she had regained drained from her cheeks as Dana whispered, "Did you kill him?" "No," Mulder answered, "though I would have, and gladly." He paused, thinking of the abuse that she had suffered at Valenkov's hands. "I had some information on him, and his partner thought it was easier to eliminate him and let us go than risk the repercussions that unwanted publicity would bring." Dana nodded, absorbing the information, shaken by their narrow escape. "Mulder," she began, unsure of how to put words to her thoughts. "That was a crazy risk you took. I...I wish you hadn't --" "If I hadn't," Mulder told her, his gaze strong and unflinching, "you wouldn't be here. And I could *never* bear that." For a moment, Dana feared that she might cry, the genuine emotion in his words touching her heart. She turned away, and as was her habit, she sought refuge in humor. "Guess I should tell the nurse to stop calling me Mrs. Valenkov," she joked softly. "*I'd* prefer to call you Mrs. Mulder," he replied. Dana looked back at him, astonished, her heart pounding in her chest. "That is, if you'll allow it." Powerless now to stop them, Dana felt the tears running freely down her face. She raised their joined hands to her lips and kissed the edge of his palm, noticing that Mulder's hazel eyes were bright with tears of their own. "Mrs. Mulder...." she murmured, savoring the sound of the words on her tongue. In a conscious echo of their long ago conversation, she replied, "It'll have to do." Mulder's handsome face broke in a wide smile that Dana answered with a coy grin as she added, "Does this mean I get to start calling you Fox?" Mulder laughed then, and the sound was music to her ears. "I couldn't think of a better time than now." "Then come here, Fox," Dana demanded, raising her arms to pull him close and kiss him fiercely. As Mulder wrapped his arms around her and returned the kiss, he whispered, "I love you, Mrs. Mulder." "I love you...Fox." "The doctor's on his way in here to check on you." "He can wait..." THE END Well, what can I say?? :-) I always did think that the end of the movie was a little bit abrupt, so I fixed it. Anyway, that's the end -- the curtain has fallen -- and I hope that you've enjoyed the show!! Feedback is always appreciated at nvrgrim@aol.com. Thanks for reading!!!