Disclaimer:  The characters in this story don't belong to me.  They belong to Chris Carter and the Fox Network.

Special thanks to Moonbeam for beta-testing.  (Love ya cybergoddess)

Summary:  A post Gesthemane MSR, rated PG-13.  The juicy stuff comes later.  

The Resurrection.  Written by Tea Cup. Part 1/4

	Carl Sagan discussed the probability of extraterrestrial life, while Mulder stared intently.  The tears that had rolled down his cheeks began to dry.  Mulder sat on his couch, with his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands.  His head slowly began to shake from  side to side in disbelief.  Had it all been a lie?  Was it nothing but wasted time?  He had spent his whole life searching for proof of alien life.  It seemed the truth was always just out of reach.  Was this what they had intended all along?
	Mulder looked up at the television with beseeching eyes.  
	"Please tell me this isn't true."  
	Tears began to form as another thought ripped through his consciousness.  One thing that he *knew* was true was that he had been used.  His passion for the truth was well known, and they had used it against him, against her.  Once again the tears spilled down his cheeks.  Guilt swelled up in his belly as he reflected on what he had done.  Those bastards had given Scully cancer because of him.  It was  too much.  Mulder clutched his stomach and rocked back and forth.  
	Scully.  
	Scully.  
	She was dying because of him.  Suffering because of him.  It was bad enough watching her face, as she wiped the blood from her nose.  She'd tell him she was fine, but he knew better.  He was sure she wasn't better.  In fact he suspected she was getting worse, and it was all his fault.  Tears rolled freely now, and fell to the ground.  Mulder stopped rocking and slowly lifted his head to the coffee table.  On top of a pile of outdated magazines lay his gun.  He stared at the Smith and Wesson and marveled at it's simplicity.  Perhaps there was an answer.  He lifted his right hand, and with his index finger, traced the outline of the gun.  It felt cold to the touch.  Was this the answer?  People were dead because of him.  His father.  Dead.  Melissa.  Dead.  Scully...  
	It struck him instantaneously.  If he were dead, Scully would be saved.  There would be no need to make her suffer.  They'd give her the cure.  He was responsible for her cancer, and only he could make her well.  For the first time that night he felt that there was hope.

	Scully stood outside Mulder's apartment.  She leaned forward, inches away from the door, and listened for any sound of movement.  She heard nothing, but she knew he was inside.  She could sense him.  They'd been together for so long, she knew him inside and out.  She knew right now he was suffering.  She lifted her hand to knock on the door then paused.  What could she say?  He'd been deceived.  They both had been used.  The difference was =his= search for the "truth" was his life's ambition.  For her it was only a job.  
	Scully hesitated.  
	Was that true?  Was it only a job?  Maybe at first.  But, in truth, now it was more.  She too wanted the truth, but she stayed because of him.  She respected him, and his perseverance.  He was her best friend.  She loved him...
	  As soon as she allowed the thought into her head, her stomach fluttered.  She ignored it.  Yes, she loved him.  Her stomach fluttered again.  This time she couldn't ignore it.  Scully had often wondered what would happen if their relationship went to the next step.  The opportunity had been there on several occasions, but neither took advantage of it.  Scully was relatively sure Mulder wouldn't throw her out of bed on a cold night, but still her fantasies about him remained just that.  Fantasies.  Just the other night when Mulder had come over to her apartment to work on a brief he had looked at her "like that".  What if?  What if she had just leaned over and kissed him?  What if?  Scully shook the  thought from her mind and knocked lightly on the door.  She was here to console a friend, nothing more.  
	Mulder knew that knock and ignored it.  She knocked again only this time a little harder.  He imagined what Scully looked like behind the door.  She was so little, yet so tenacious.  Her diminutive body could be broken so easily, yet she was tougher than any man he knew.  Tougher than himself.  Scully was facing the worst time in her life, yet she had come to comfort him.  How many times had she been there for him?  
	Whenever he needed her.  
	How many times had he been there for her?  
	Not enough.  
	He was always running off on another hunch, quick to leave her behind.  Too selfish to consider her feelings.  And now it was over.

	"Mulder, I know you are in there."  His partner had such a commanding voice for someone so petite.  She listened for his answer, when none came she knocked again.
	"Mulder, I'm coming in."  She retrieved the key to his apartment from her key chain and slid it into the lock.  She turned the knob, and entered his apartment.  It was untidy as usual, and dark, like Mulder's mood.  The first thing she noticed was Mulder sitting on the couch, his head in his hands.  The second thing she noticed was his gun on the coffee table.  It suddenly made her feel apprehensive.  It looked out of place.  Dangerous.  

	Scully sat next to Mulder on the couch.  She was close enough to him that their knees touched.  She tried to make him look at her by lowing her face, but he didn't turn.  In fact, he had yet to acknowledge her.  She could see that he'd been crying.  Her heart was breaking to see him in so much pain.  He looked like a little boy.  She wanted to put her arms around him and make all the hurt go away.  She wanted to say something that would take away his suffering.  From the look on his face, she could tell that there was nothing she could say.  She decided to just sit quietly next to him and just *be* there for him.  She put her right arm over his back and her left arm rested on his forearm.  They sat that way for a while, neither speaking.  When he did speak, it was soft and apologetic.

	"I don't deserve you being kind to me, Scully."
	Scully thought about saying some quip remark but changed her mind.
	"You deserve to have a friend by you when you are in pain.  I'm not going to abandon you now, when things are at their worst.  I wouldn't do that to you, Mulder."
	"I know you wouldn't.  That's why I don't deserve you."
	"Deserve me?"  she asked.
	"You've stood by me, Scully.  I don't know why you have..."
	"And you've stood by me," she interrupted.  Mulder turned his head at last to look at his partner.
	"Have I?  Have I been there for you?"  he asked, pleading.
	"We've been together for a long time, Mulder.  It wouldn't have lasted if we hadn't supported eachother."  
	She saw the mist begin to form in his eyes, before he turned away again.  They sat in silence.  Scully with her arm around him.  Mulder with his head in his hands.  She leaned over and put her head on his shoulder.  They stayed like this for some time.  It wasn't unnatural for her to be there with him.  She didn't feel like she had to talk.  She was where she belonged.  There to comfort him, her partner, her best friend, and in her dreams, her lover.

	Scully felt secure and protected with him, even though she was supposed to be there to comfort him. It felt right to hold him.  They'd held eachother before, but never for this long. Scully suddenly noticed that her breast was touching his upper arm.  A feverish, abrupt response darted through her.  She squeezed her eyes closed.  What was she experiencing?  The sensual feeling in her breast magnified with every moment.  She slid her left arm back and forth over his forearm and felt his hair tickle her palm.  The sensation flowed through her hand and up her arm.  What was happening?  She'd been close to Mulder before.  Why was she feeling this now?  She'd always been able to control herself in the past.  Why now?  She tried to convince herself that it was only a natural reaction.  Flesh against flesh.  Her mind began to wonder.  Was this a natural reaction, or a reaction to Mulder?  Mulder's flesh.  His voice snapped her out of her trance.

	"Go home, Scully."  His voice was soft and unconvincing.
	"I don't really think you want me to, Mulder."  Her voice was softer than usual.  Almost motherly.  Her delicate touch felt so pleasurable on his skin.  Her hand was small, but strong.  He'd seen those hands at an autopsy, holding a gun, arresting an offender.  Now he imagined those hands in another capacity.  Tender, affectionate, loving.  He imagined those hands caressing his body.  Imagined her running those hands through his hair.  Touching his face.  The thought made a rush go through his body.  It startled him, but it shouldn't have.  From the moment he'd met her, he'd wondered what it would be like to hold her, love her, melt with her.  He'd always found her desirable.  What man wouldn't?  But the more he came to know her, the more he needed her, wanted her, longed to be more to her than just her partner.   He shook his head to clear his thoughts and turned abruptly towards Scully.  He deposited one knee on the couch, the other remained on the floor.  He settled one elbow on the crown of the couch, and leaned his head once again into the palm of his hand, as if his head was too heavy to hold up.  He stared into her lovely face, and saw just how breathtaking she was.  Why hadn't he told her how he felt? Maybe only now was he able to admit it to himself.  He was in love with her.  

	His sudden movement shocked her.  This new position put her knees directly between his.  Her knee caps were almost touching...
She sat up, but didn't move.  He looked so sad.  She'd seen him discouraged before, but never like this.  Never...  despondent.  It worried her.  She lifted her hand to his face to cradle it in her palm.  Her thumb brushed a remaining tear from his face.  His cheek felt rough against her velvet skin, but that erotic feeling returned to her fingers.  This time she didn't fight it.  She brushed back the hair on his forehead, as if it were in his eyes.  It wasn't, but she wanted a reason to feel his hair on her skin.  It was satiny, and wonderful to the touch.  She wanted more.

	Mulder's hand gently came to her's and stopped her.  He looked as if he wanted to say something, then stopped.  He put her hand back on her leg, but didn't remove his hand.  The sensation was now fiery on her leg, and shot to her core.  How could this be happening?  His thumb moved over her hand, back and forth ever so slowly.  She sucked in her breath.  Mulder lifted his head and looked into her eyes.  Was he smiling?  Could he see the effect he was having on her?  Scully looked down to the thumb caressing her hand.  She put her other hand on top of his.

	Mulder saw something in her eyes that he'd never seen before.  She looked shy, almost embarrassed, not the intact, controlled Scully he'd come to know over the years.  Was it because he was touching her?  He liked that his touch was having an affect on her, but worried that it was wrong.  Despite his apprehensions he couldn't stop his roving hands.  He reached out to touch her face.  Scully was beautiful.  Her pale skin and piercing sea green eyes, made her more than attractive.  She was radiant.  He lifted her chin with his trembling fingers to force her to look at him.  She fought him for a moment, then reluctantly returned his gaze.  Removing his fingers from her chin, he traced her skin with his index finger, feeling the supple cheeks that were flushed with what he recognized as desire.  When he reached her mouth he stopped.  Her lower lip was trembling and his heart skipped a beat.  Trembling with fear?  Hoping to allay any of her fears  he continued tracing the quivering lip.  With great concern his eyes stared deeply into hers and finally saw the truth.  She loved him.  He knew that they were best friends, and cared about each other deeply, but love?  There was no doubt.  Part of him had always known.  What he saw in her eyes was love.  For him.  

	She felt her entire body shaking against his touch.  She couldn't control herself, didn't want to.  Though only his finger was touching her, flames shot through her body like a fire out of control.  His penetrating eyes continued to stare, as if his eyes had already undressed her.  She wasn't altogether certain what she saw there.  What were his eyes telling her?  Was it confusion, fear, pity?  No.  She saw adoration and desire.  She saw love.
	Mulder inched closer to her so that her knees were flush against his body.  Never had he felt this aroused, and he wasn't really even touching her.  He cupped her chin, this time using both hands,  and leaned in close.  She could feel his warm breath.  Smell him.  She wanted to fill her lungs with his scent.  She closed her eyes in anticipation of his kiss.  She felt him  gently lower her chin to kiss her forehead.  Her heart plummeted.  Was this his way of saying, "we're only friends"?  But he didn't stop.  His lips continued their soft journey down to the tip of her nose.  He moved affectionately over to each cheek, pausing only to take in a breath.  He kissed her chin then inched his way forward.  Scully could feel her body responding to every touch, every breath.  She grew uncomfortable in her constricting clothes.  She longed to be enveloped by him, body and soul.  She savored every exquisite touch.  Wanted it to last forever.  Wanted this moment to last an eternity.

	Scully shifted and her knees rubbed against him.  She heard him moan  against her cheek.   Both hands nestled in her hair by the base of her neck. Mulder carefully pulled her head back, so that she was staring up into his face.  He was breathing harder now, but he was controlled. A moist film of sweat showed on his brow.  Scully opened her lips inviting him in, but he resisted.
	"I don't deserve you," he moaned.  
	"Please, Mulder.  Please."  Scully's gentle voice begged him.  It was all he needed.  He pulled her towards him, but stopped a fraction from her quivering lips.  	"Slowly, Scully, Slowly," he purred.  
	His lips barely touched hers.  He moved his head from side to side to brush her lips with his own.  A small mewing sound escaped from her throat.  Her lips were hot and moist.  He cooled them with the tip of his tongue.  Gently coating, soothing, and loving her pink skin.  
	"Mulder, Mulder," her voice was only a whisper, but the message was clear.  He could no longer deny her.  His tongue explored her slowly.  Scully's tongue joined his.  Together they searched.  He wanted her desperately, but he would not rush her.  He didn't want to frighten her.  Didn't want her to change her mind.  He would not destroy it with his uncontrolled passion.
	Scully's delicate hands moved up his chest.  He shivered with her touch.  Her palms massaged his nipples making them hard and extremely sensitive.  He groaned, and tenderly grabbed her hands.
	"No, Scully," he murmured.
	Scully pulled away slightly to look into his eyes.
	"You don't want me to touch you?"  she asked looking like a hurt child.
Mulder was unable to bear the look in her eyes.
	"Scully, I want you.  You can't possibly know how much I want you.  It hurts, I want you so bad.  But I won't ruin this moment by tackling you,"  Mulder smiled at her painfully.
	"Maybe I want you to tackle me,"  Scully's smile was sweet, and shy.
	He paused at her words and smiled.  He was proud, though surprised, at his self - control.
	"You may feel that way right now, but later..."  Mulder paused to collect his thoughts.  "Later, you may not feel the same way.  And I don't want you to hate me, or yourself by rushing into...  this... too fast."
	He stared into her wounded eyes.  Scully wanted him.  He wanted her, what's the problem?  The problem was, he'd hurt her enough.  He wouldn't hurt her anymore.  
	"You don't want me,"  she said plainly, her eyes cast downward.
Mulder grabbed her upper arms a little harder than he had intended.  She looked up at him with great surprise.
	"I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone in my life."  Mulder shook her to make his point very clear.
  	"But I don't want you just for tonight.  I want you tomorrow and the next day, and the next."  He loosened his grip on her, and she smiled at him.
	"I want you, Scully.  Believe me, ...I      want      you." 

	The lovers simply held eachother for the rest of the night.  She borrowed a T-Shirt and a pair of boxers and changed in the bathroom.  Mulder pulled out a blanket and wrapped them both up in a little cocoon.  Scully spooned against him on the couch, and his arm wrapped protectively and possessively around her waist.  He heard her heavy breathing and saw that she was asleep.  He savored this moment, where he could just stare at her.  She felt so delicate against his body.  He could crush her with his weight, but he wouldn't.  He felt responsible for her, always had.  Now more so.  As his eyes began to close, he whispered in her sleeping ear,
	"I love you, Scully," and he drifted off to sleep.

	Mulder woke up to find that the sleeping red head was still in his arms.  He awoke in the middle of the night, and thought it was a dream.  He couldn't believe that his Scully was in his arms.  Seeing her now asleep he knew it was no dream.  The sun from the window lit up her face, and made her look like an angel.  She was curled like a kitten against his chest.  She felt warm against his body.  She felt at home there.  She belonged there, with him.  Mulder touched her hair gently, afraid to wake her.  He brushed the hair away from her cheek to better see her face.  Scully stirred in his arms.  Just the gentle movement of her body against his, brought back memories of the night before.  He had longed to make love to her.  His body ached to touch her.  She stirred again, and he felt his body respond.  Just thinking of her lips against his made his body grow with excitement.  God, how he wanted her.  Mulder ran his hand down her arm and then back again.  She was smooth and soft.  He leaned forward to kiss her shoulder through the T-Shirt.  He gently brushed her hair away from her white neck and pressed his lips against her bare skin.  His body continued to grow with need.  He slid his tongue down and kissed the base of her neck.  The little kitten began to wake.  Scully  moaned and tilted her head, exposing more of her neck.  Mulder brushed his lips up her neck, and a sigh escaped her.  
	Scully was halfway between sleep and awake.  If it was a dream, she didn't want to awake.  If it was real, she wanted to be part of it.
	"Mulder, is that you?"   she whispered.
	"Who'd you think?" he teased.
	"I had a dream," he could barely hear her.  "that you were gone, forever.  Promise you won't leave me."
	He pulled her closer to him, and continued to run his fingers through her hair.
	"I promise," he reassured her, but Scully had already fallen back asleep.

	When Mulder awoke for the second time, Scully was gone.  On the coffee table propped up against his gun was a note.

Mulder,
	I've never been more alive.

Love,
Scully

	Mulder vowed she'd stay that way for a long time.  Even if it cost him his life.

End of Part I

Disclaimer:  The characters in this story don't belong to me.  They belong to Chris Carter and the Fox Network.
Summary:  A post Gesthemane MSR, rated R.   

The Ressurection:  Part 2/4

	"I need your help,"  Mulder spoke to the man across the table.  
	"Why should I help you?  You're the reason I'm in this place," replied the balding man in prison garb and handcuffs.
	"You're the reason, you're in here.  And you don't have to help me, if you don't want to, but Agent Scully needs you."
	The prisoner perked up instantly.  "And how is Agent Scully?  Why didn't she come here with you?  Where is she?"  
	Mulder knew he could easily manipulate this man.  Possibly put him in danger.  But he didn't care.  Scully's life was the only thing that mattered now.  He would do anything he could to save her.
	"She's dying, Eddie.  You are the only one who can help her."
	"Me?"  Eddie looked skeptical, but interested.  "What can I do?"
	"Will you - help - Agent Scully?"  Mulder tried to stay calm, but he knew he would beg on his hands and knees if it would save his partner's life.
	"What do I get out of it?"  asked Eddie Van Blundht.
	"Nothing, Eddie,"  replied the agent.  "Nothing, but knowing you saved someone's life.  Dana's life.  I know you want to do the right thing.  I know you care about Agent Scully.  You are the only one, Eddie.  I can't help her.  She'll die without you."  Mulder was beginning to sound desperate.  He =was= desperate.
	Eddie tried to look like he was thinking it over, but Mulder knew he had already made up his mind.  Eddie would save Scully's life.

*		*		*		*		*		*

	Eddie Van Blundht was released from prison into the custody of Special Agent Fox Mulder.  
	"Can you take these handcuffs off?"  asked Eddie.
	"When we get back to my apartment,"  Mulder sneered at Eddie.  "You know where my apartment is, don't you Eddie?"  
	The prisoner looked down at his handcuffed wrists and didn't speak again.  

	As promised, Mulder removed the handcuffs and allowed Eddie to roam freely around Mulder's small apartment.  Eddie knew his way around the apartment well enough.  He soon made himself at home.
	"So what's the plan?"  asked Van Blundht.
	"We're going to break into Skinner's office," stated Mulder.

*		*		*		*		*		*

	Smoke from his cigarette wafted into the other man's face.  The gray haired man listened carefully.
	"We have to,"  said the cigarette smoking man, pulling in another drag from his cigarette.  "He knows all about it.  He's too much of a liability."
	"What about his partner?" asked Gray Haired Man.
	"If he's dead.  We don't need her," said Cigarette Smoking Man.  "Besides, it will look too suspicious if they both are dead."
	Gray Haired Man nodded, as another puff of smoke blew into his face.
	"Just get rid of *him*," said Cigarette Smoking Man.  "*I'll* take care of her."

*		*		*		*		*		*

	Mulder discussed the plan with Eddie.
	"We'll go into the FBI building after hours, with you as Skinner."
	"How's that going to save Agent Scully?"  asked Van Blundht.
	"Skinner has contact with someone who has the cure for her cancer.   I'm hoping I can get some information on him that will give us some leverage."
	"How can we be sure Walter Skinner won't be there?"
	"Skinner always plays racquetball on Thursday nights," answered Mulder.
	Eddie looked down at his clothes.
	"I'm going to need something better than this."
	"Come on.  I'm sure I have something you can wear."


	Mulder had Eddie/Walter try on a suit that would make the ex-marine proud.  While the clothes were convincing, Eddie's posture wasn't.  No ex-marine slouched explained Mulder, especially not Skinner.  For the next two hours Mulder had Eddie practice walking and speaking like Walter Skinner.  After what seemed like the entire afternoon, Mulder gave up.  
	"Why don't you just keep your mouth shut, and I'll do the talking," suggested the FBI agent.  Eddie just nodded. 
	"Can we get something to eat?" asked Eddie, "I'm starved."
	"Ya, I guess we might as well.  We can't do anything until dark," said Mulder, "What do you want?"
	"Can we go to Murphy's in Old Town?" asked Eddie, "They've got the best roast beef sandwiches."
	"You aren't going anywhere," said Mulder flatly.  "I'll go to the corner market and pick up something.  Stay here, and don't touch anything!"  Mulder looked Eddie straight in the eye.  Eddie looked down at his feet.
	"Can you at least pick up some ice cream while you are there?" asked Eddie with a small pout.
	"Anything else?" asked Mulder smugly.
	"Curly fries?"
	Mulder just looked at Eddie.
	"Curly fries."
	Eddie nodded with an apologetic smile.
	Mulder grabbed his overcoat and his wallet and walked to the door.  On his way out he stuck his head back in the door,
	"Don't     -     touch     -      anything!"
	Mulder locked Eddie inside the apartment.  The FBI agent lived in apartment number 42 on the fourth floor.  Given the prisoner's current state of health, he was sure Eddie wasn't going to try and shimmy down the drain pipe, to make a daring escape.  Mulder didn't like the idea of leaving him alone in his apartment, but Eddie had  been there before and hadn't destroyed anything.  Hopefully, now would be no different.  He didn't really have any choice, and besides, Eddie really did want to help Dana.  Mulder had promised him a "date" with Agent Scully if everything worked out.  He decided he'd worry about that later.  
	Mulder crossed over King Street in Alexandria and headed towards Pitoli's Market.  Traffic was predictably heavy during rush hour, and the streets were bustling with tourists and couples dining al fresco.  Old Town was such a quaint romantic town, right on the Potomac River.  Mulder watched a petite red-head and her date holding hands across a little round table.  They occasionally sipped their cafe late, but they rarely took their eyes off eachother.  Mulder's mind went back to the night before.  

	When he looked into her beautiful teal eyes, he saw a part of his partner he never knew existed.  She looked vulnerable.  He'd seen her frightened before, he'd seen her grieve, but he'd never seen her like that.  She was like a fragile little girl afraid to make a mistake.  How could she make a mistake?  She was perfect.  He was so afraid to kiss her, afraid she'd break.  But when he finally did feel her warm lips on his, he knew the only thing he had to fear was never kissing her lips again.  From that moment, he knew that his life would cease to exist without her.  She was his nourishment and his oxygen.  
	That night he wanted her desperately, but knew he had to be strong.  He felt that Scully would have opened herself up to him,  body and soul, if he had let her.  But he had stopped, knowing it was too soon.  He imagined what it would have been like to undo each of the pearly white buttons on her blouse.  What would she have been wearing underneath?  No doubt Scully would have worn a very feminine lacy bra.  She was so strong, confident, and fearless, but she was a woman in every respect.  Mulder traced the garment in his mind, wondering how she would react if he began to caress her breast with his able fingers.  Would she ask him to stop?  Doubtful.  The woman he saw last night had hidden passions aching to be released.  She had wanted to be touched as much as he wanted to touch.  He palmed her warm soft skin with both hands.  In his mind he deftly undid the clinging fabric.  He laid her down gently on the couch and watched her.  Her breathing was sharp and quick.  Her chest heaved with his every touch.  He leaned forward to kiss her lips, she pulled him closer, but he resisted her.  Slowly his lips journeyed down to her chin and traveled to her neck.  There he enjoyed laving the pulsing vein on her neck.  Her breathing grew more rapid, and her hands clutched at him.  He held her at bay, afraid to go too fast.  No, he would not rush a moment of this pleasurable pain.  His tongue traced a path down her collar bone, and then between her breasts.  The beautiful red head sucked in her breath quickly and arched her back.  Her nipples were erect.  He teased her skin around the sensitive nub.  She moaned and dug her nails into his back.  He knew she was close.  Instead of giving into what they both so desperately wanted, he moved to the other, again teasing her, laving her just around the edge.  Scully's hips began to grind against him, and her little mewing sounds grew louder.  She was on the edge and falling fast.  Mulder could deny her no longer.  His warm wet mouth opened to suckle her...

	Mulder rudely came back to reality when a truck came whizzing down the street with a loud blast from the driver's horn.
	"Watch it, buddy!"  yelled the driver.  
	Mulder jumped off the curb, knocking into a passerby.
	"Excuse me," he apologized.  The woman just eyed him suspiciously and continued on her way.  Mulder was taken aback.  He looked around and remembered that he was on a side walk, with hundreds of people around him.  Suddenly, he was embarrassed to also find that while Scully had only been in his imagination, part of his anatomy reacted as if she were quite present.  He wrapped his overcoat around his body to hide himself, and continued to the corner market.

*		*		*		*		*		*

	Eddie couldn't help himself.  Mulder had told him not to touch anything, and he hadn't.  But it was so much more fun to be Mulder than Skinner.  Mulder was a very attractive guy.  He'd always thought so.  
	"If I could only look like him," thought Eddie, and that was all it took.  Eddie promised himself he would only do it for a couple of minutes, until the real Agent Mulder came back.  Then he would go back to being Skinner, and help save the day.
Eddie was already dressed like Mulder, but he didn't have a badge or his gun.  
	"No fun," thought Eddie.  As he had done before, he practiced looking "FBIish" in the mirror.  Agent Mulder made it look so easy.  Eddie the janitor always looked awkward, and oafish.  After all, the real Eddie Van Blundht *was* awkward and oafish.  The agent had several overcoats in his closet, and Eddie/Mulder tried one on.  That helped a little.  	"Special Agent Fox Mulder," Eddie replied to the mirror.
	"Agent Mulder,"
	"Hi, Fox Mulder,"
	"Mulder,"
	Eddie repeated the agent's name in every context into the reflecting glass.  Eddie was beginning to get his confidence.  He liked being  Fox Mulder.  Eddie would find that he =would= be Fox Mulder both in life =and= death.  As soon as Eddie had unconsciously wished he could be Agent Fox Mulder forever, a bullet entered his right temple killing him instantly.

*		*		*		*		*		*

	"Is he dead?" asked CSM.
	"I made it look like a suicide," replied the Gray Haired Man.
	"Good.  We won't have to worry about this turning into a crusade.  Nobody's going to play follow the leader with him.  He just shot himself in the head."
	The Gray Haired Man just nodded.  The Cigarette Smoking Man took one final drag on his Morley's, and stubbed out the cigarette.

*		*		*		*		*		*

	Mulder cursed himself for taking so long at the market.  Surely Eddie had gotten into his stuff while he was away.  The little bastard had a way of getting himself into all sorts of trouble.  He never should have gotten Eddie involved.  He was a putz, a loser.  Thank God Mulder had walked in on Eddie and Scully before he kissed her.  He could have killed the little bastard for deceiving her that way.  Using HIS body to seduce his partner.  The thought made him sick.  
	Mulder keyed into the apartment.  Instantly he knew something was wrong.  The lock he had used to keep Eddie inside the apartment was no longer bolted.  The bolt could only be undone from the outside.  There was no way Eddie could have done it himself.  Mulder gently set the groceries down on the wooden floor and removed his gun.  He cocked it and quietly entered the apartment.  He didn't need to go very far before he saw Eddie.  Eddie?
  
	"Oh shit!" said Mulder out loud.
  
	Eddie was sprawled out on the floor next to the coffee table.  In his right hand was a Smith and Wesson 1056 just like Mulder's own.  Mulder went down on his hands and knees to get a closer look.  Mulder was taken aback when he saw that Eddie had transformed himself not into Skinner, but into himself.  A gaping hole was visible in Eddie's right temple.  His eyes were open, but not in shock or fear.
  
	"He didn't even know it was coming," thought Mulder.  "Thank God for that." 

	Mulder had come close to dying before, but he still couldn't help but shiver.  If he had arrived only moments before, or left a few minutes later, it would have been him on the floor with a bullet in his brain.  If the assassin had arrived a few hours earlier, Scully might have been here too.

	"Damn," wondered Mulder.  "What the hell am I going to tell Scully?" 
 
	Scully...  		Scully...  		Scully...

	Mulder paced around his small apartment, perfecting his plan.  He could take his gun, but he'd have to leave his badge.  He figured he had at least a couple of weeks until they realized that they had killed the wrong guy.  That would give him at least that much time to try and figure out what to do.  Maybe with him out of the way they'd give his partner the cure for her cancer.  He doubted it would be that easy, but it was worth a shot.  With him out of the way there was no reason for her to die.  The difficult part of the plan would involve deceiving Scully.  He'd have to let her believe he was dead.  She'd never forgive him, but he didn't have a choice.  It was the only way to make it look real.  At least for a little while.  Still Mulder wasn't convinced he could do this to her.  
	Mulder stuffed his hands into the pockets of his overcoat and paced again.  In the right hand pocket he pulled out a piece of paper that had been folded up.  He unfolded it and read the words:

Mulder,
	  
	I've never been more alive.

Love,
Scully

	Mulder thought for a moment, but he knew what he had to do.
  
	"I'm sorry Scully," spoke Mulder.  "It's the only recourse I have, to keep you that way."

End of Part II

Disclaimer:  The characters in this story don't belong to me.  They belong to Chris Carter and the Fox Network.
Summary:  A post Gesthemane MSR, rated R.  

The Ressurection:  Part 3/4

	When Scully got the call from Detective Rempulski, it was like being hit in the gut.  Her body began to contort inwards and she grabbed her stomach first with one hand and then the other.  The detective called out to her from the phone which now lay on the ground.

	"Agent Scully, " his voice was firm, but concerned.
	"Agent Scully?"

	Scully heard the voice, but it was a long way off.  It seemed the room was a long way off.  Her body felt increasingly heavy and she could no longer hold herself up.  She grabbed the closest chair and sat.  Leaning over, as if she would be sick, she began to rock back and forth.  

	"Hello, are you there?" asked Rempulski.  Scully could only hear the pounding in her head.  She felt as if she were floating away.   She couldn't feel her legs, her arms, only the tremendous weight of her pounding head.  The pain in her gut spread quickly throughout her body, crippling her.  She heard a guttural noise, like the sound of a wounded animal.  She realized it was coming from that pain in her gut and out her mouth.  She continued to groan and rock back and forth.  
	Scully kept her eyes shut so tightly they began to spasm.  

	"Agent Scully, are you all right?!"  

	Rempulski's increasingly loud voice forced Scully out of the trance and she opened her eyes.  On the floor by her feet lay the fallen phone.  She slowly reached out for it and brought it to her ear.  

	"I'm here," she replied.
	"I need you," began the detective, then paused to take a breath, "I need you to identify the body."

	Scully tried to force herself to sit up, but her body wouldn't let her.  
	"The body, the body, the body," her mind repeated the words.  How many bodies had she identified?  Hundreds.  
	"The body, the body," the words got louder in her head.
	"What body?  What body?"  Scully began rocking again.  

	"Agent Scully are you still there?" asked the detective.

	Scully literally shook her head.  
	"I can do this," she thought.  "I can identify a body."
	"Maybe," thought Scully "it isn't even Mulder.  He just said =a= body is in the apartment.  Maybe..."

	"Yes," replied Scully.
	"I need you to identify the body," he repeated.
	"I'll be right there.  Right away," she answered and hung up the phone.

	"I can do this," she thought, "I can do this."  
	Scully grabbed her overcoat.  It was the only one on the hook.  Usually her coat was hung up next to Mulder's.  It looked lonely there all by itself.  She put on her coat while she stared at the hook.
	"It looks so lonely," she thought while she buttoned it up.  "So all alone."
	
	Scully made a right turn onto the street, just as she had done countless times.  In fact, she didn't even remember driving, until she pulled into the parking lot.  Her actions were instinctual now.  She unbuckled her seatbelt, yanked the keys from the ignition, closed the door, and locked it.  The gold keychain flapped against her hand and she looked down at it.  
	She thought he'd forgotten her birthday, but he had surprised her with this keychain, that he never fully explained.  She smiled to herself, meaning to ask him once and for all, what it really meant.  She felt another punch in the gut and fell forward onto the car.  One hand grabbed her stomach, the other held onto the door with the keychain still clutched in her hand.  

	"I can do this," she repeated over and over like a mantra.  

	Scully pushed herself off the car and forced herself to walk.  She looked for the entrance at the side of the building.  It looked so far away.  Every step was a tremendous effort.  Her feet felt like they were made of cement.  She forced herself to continue towards the door.  When she finally made it, she stopped to take a breath.  She'd never make it up the stairs.  

	"I can do this," continued the mantra.

	Scully grabbed hold of the handrail and pulled herself up the stairs.  Even from the first floor she could hear the commotion.  Familiar noises from the hundreds of crime scenes she'd witnessed.  She recognized some of the voices, others she didn't.  She moved up the staircase, slowly, but methodically.  When she reached the top of the stairs two police officers were posted at the door, one on each side.  When they saw her, they instinctively moved together to bar her from entering.  The female agent retrieved the badge from her pocket and identified herself.  They stepped aside.  She entered the apartment.  With the exception of the officers and detectives, it looked exactly the same as it always had, cluttered.  She wondered if the fish had been fed recently.
	Scully looked down to the floor and instantly everything was different.  The detective approached Scully and greeted her with a nod of his head.  Scully introduced herself, showed him her badge, and moved further inside the apartment.  A body lay on the floor, but it was covered with a standard white sheet.  She could see the feet sticking out, and the top of the head.  She moved closer and bent down beside the body.  With one hand the detective pulled back the corner of the sheet.  For a moment she just stared and then she righted herself.   Her sudden movement caused her to stagger, but only for an instant and then she recovered her balance.  She hadn't realized that since the phone call from the police department she'd been secretly doubting the truth.  It had to be a lie.  A misunderstanding.  A terrible mistake.  Now she had to face it.  It was true.  Her stomach began to rumble, and bile threatened to escape from her throat.  She took two steps backwards and turned towards Rempulski.

	"It's Agent Mulder," she stated and rushed out the door.

*		*		*		*		*		*

	Agent Mulder watched from a distance in his rental car at the goings on in his apartment.  Mulder himself had been the one to call 911 to report the sound of a gun shot coming from apartment 42.  He felt dirty knowing he was deceiving the officers of the law.  He knew his actions would cause a lot of people a lot of pain and confusion.  He fought his conscience to run across the street and explain that it had all been a huge misunderstanding.  He quickly dispelled the idea when he thought of his partner.

	"I'm doing this for Scully," he reminded himself.  Still, he felt dirty.

	The county coroner showed up, along with various other officials.  Mulder watched in a trance as the scene unfolded.  It was a strange and eerie feeling being alive, while everyone else thought he was dead.  It made him feel suddenly immortal.  However, any pleasure from this ordeal quickly vanished when he saw Scully's car.  He figured she'd be the one to identify him, but he didn't expect her so quickly.  His stomach tightened as he watched her.  

	"This is wrong, all wrong," he thought, as he watched her exit the vehicle.  
She looked composed, and he suddenly felt disappointed that his partner wasn't more upset, until she almost fell over onto the car. Then he knew she was hurting.  Mulder grabbed the car door and pushed it open.  He'd forgotten he'd been wearing his seatbelt and it pulled him back into the car.  The jolt shocked him, and he stopped.  He slowly pulled the car door closed again. 

	"For Scully," he repeated and watched her slowly walk towards the door.  It was tearing him up inside knowing what awaited her in the apartment.  He knew this was cruel and it was so hard to remind himself of the reasons behind this whole charade. 

	"I'm doing this for you, Scully," he said out loud, hoping to convince himself that this wasn't an enormously cruel hoax.  He watched her enter the apartment and imagined her little body walking up the stairs.  Right about now she'd be reaching the top and walking towards the door.  A little more and she'd be in the apartment.  He started to perspire.  He knew she'd be looking at the body, his body, at this moment and taking it all in.  He knew she'd keep her composure, and do everything by the book.  He also knew this decision he had made, would change both their lives forever.  She might never forgive him for this.  It was a chance he had to take.  

	Mulder watched the woman he loves rush out of the building towards her car.  He could almost hear the *click *click of her heels against the concrete.  He saw her put the key in the car door and paused.  Scully put both hands against the car to brace herself.  Mulder unconsciously put both hands on the steering wheel.  He watched her, as she clung to the door for support.  He squeezed the steering wheel tighter.  

	"This was wrong, all wrong," he screamed inside his head.  

	Mulder looked down to undo the restricting seatbelt.  He couldn't do this to her, not to his Scully.  The seatbelt slapped back against the door and recoiled.  Mulder grabbed the door handle again and opened the door.  Cars poured past him on the street, but he never took his eyes off her.  A tour bus rumbled down the road and he lost sight of her for a moment.  When the bus passed, Fox Mulder looked towards the parking lot for her car, but all that remained was an empty space.  He stared at the white lines painted on the asphalt and wondered if he hadn't just made the biggest mistake of his life.
*		*		*		*		*		*

	Scully busied herself around her apartment afraid to stop moving.  She hung up her coat, put her purse on the table, removed her gun, brushed her teeth, emptied the dishwasher, anything to keep her mind off the day's events.   

	"Keep moving, Dana, keep moving," she thought.  If she could only keep moving maybe it wouldn't hit her.  But it did hit her quite abruptly.  She found herself staring at her refrigerator.  A picture lay there held up by a large watermelon magnet.  It was a stupid picture really of Mulder holding up one of the worst ties she'd ever seen.  She knew all about his terrible taste in ties, but this one was truly exceptional.  Scully had thought this tie so funny, that she had to get a picture of it.  

	They'd been out questioning witnesses, when they came across the monstrosity.  Mulder held the tie up to his chest and looked at her.

	"What do you think, Scully?" he asked with that cute little grin.  "Is it me?"
	She'd lifted one eye brow in mock disgust.
	"Oh, it's you all right, Mulder," she responded.  "It's you."
	Mulder had chuckled, but she believed he was honestly admiring it.  She'd been carrying a camera to take pictures of the crime scene they'd be canvasing soon, but she couldn't resist.  She held the camera up to her grinning partner and snapped the picture.  She'd removed the entire roll of film just for that picture, not wanting it to get into the wrong hands.  She'd immediately had it developed and was thrilled at the final product.  Mulder stood over the display holding up the tie to his neck.  He looked so cute, like a little boy, in that picture. Except, he was no little boy.  Scully was well aware of his masculinity.  It seemed every woman he came in contact with was affected by him in one way or another.  The way his body looked in a suit.  His hazel eyes behind his glasses.  That little pout of his.  Scully had always thought her partner attractive, but there was something about that photograph.  Something about the way his eyes followed her no matter where she was in the kitchen.  She'd even felt self-conscious walking around in her bra and underwear, feeling his eyes on her.  After a while, she liked the way she felt wondering what he'd think of her if he saw her like that.  She knew she was no bombshell like some of his past girlfriends, but she was tight, with curves in all the right places.  Dana knew she was attractive, and had often seen Mulder look at her "in that way."  She'd allow herself occasional moments to think about what it would be like to be more than just his partner.  
	Just last week Scully had allowed herself a brief Mulder fantasy.  She'd been languishing in a hot bubble bath when she thought of him.  Mulder had just left her apartment after putting the finishing touches on a brief for Skinner.  They'd ordered pizza and Scully had opened a bottle of wine.  Normally she wouldn't allow herself the luxury of alcohol while working, but it had been a particularly long day and she felt she deserved it.  The wine relaxed her and improved her mood.  When the pizza arrived Mulder and Scully had taken a break.  Scully sat on the floor next to the coffee table and opened the box.  She'd separated the pizza with her fingers and handed a slice to Mulder.  When she turned to hand the pizza to him he'd been leaning over towards the box and she almost hit him in the face with the pizza.  They'd both laughed.  Something they didn't do together very often.  She'd loved the sound of his laugh and saw just how truly attractive her partner was when he smiled.  Her eyes had stayed fixed on his for a moment before he took the pizza from her.  Again that evening, after even more wine, Mulder had lifted his napkin up to Scully's face to wipe away a spot of pizza sauce.  Normally she would have taken it as a friendly gesture, but tonight, after several glasses of wine, she saw it in a different light.  He'd stared at her just a little longer than usual.  She'd stared back.  The look in his eye was more than just friendly, it was... romantic.  Scully had kept that thought hidden until the bubble bath and another glass of wine had reminded her of it.  
	Scully allowed herself to fall further into the tub and rested her head against the inflatable pillow.  The wine glass balanced on the edge of the tub between sips.  

	"What would have happened," she thought, "if I had leaned forward and kissed him?"

	Scully doubted Mulder would have resisted, or pushed her away.  She wondered if he would have allowed it to go any further.  She imagined him kissing her back gently and sweetly.  It wasn't the first time she'd allowed herself to fantasize about those lips.  Her fantasy continued...
	Mulder lifted his hands to her face and stared into her eyes.  He kissed one cheek chastely and then the other.  Scully could feel his warm breath and sighed.  Then he returned to her lips brushing her's gently with his own.  He moved back and forth over her lips teasing her.  She wanted so badly to grab his head and slam her tongue into his mouth, but she waited enjoying the feel of his skin on hers.  His tongue slowly traced the outline of her lips, wetting them slightly.  Scully's mouth voluntarily opened to his.  His kiss remained controlled and soft, and excruciatingly gentle.  He removed his lips momentarily then with greater pressure turned to envelope her entire mouth.  His tongue found hers and they explored the inner warmth of eachothers' cavity.  The kiss grew stronger and more heated.  Mulder's hands held her tightly still cradling her head in his hands.  She could feel his passion slowly rising.  Mulder kneeled down before Scully placing his strong arms around her waist and lifted her up to the couch.  Effortlessly he moved her legs over his lap and eased her down on the couch.  The warmth of his body covered her completely.  She felt like a twig that he could easily snap if he dared.  One hand remained around her back holding her, the other caressed her cheek tenderly, his lips never leaving hers.  His passion grew.  Their kisses became deeper and more desperate.  Scully could feel his hardening body beneath her and stirred.  She heard a moan escape his swollen lips and she smiled.  She loved having this effect on him.  It made her want him even more. 
	Scully raked her fingers down his back with her long nails.  She could feel his muscles contract with each touch.  Scully slid her hands around his waist and found the first button of his shirt.  She slowly unbuttoned each button until she reached where his shirt was tucked into his pants.  Her hands went straight to his belt buckle, but he stopped her.

	"No Scully," he groaned into her ear.  "If you touch me now I will burst, and I have no intention of embarrassing myself."
	"But I want..." interrupted Scully.
	"No, Scully," he demanded.  "Not yet."
	"At least let me remove your shirt," she pleaded.
	Mulder hesitated, but agreed.  Scully pulled his shirt tails from his pants and unbuttoned the remaining buttons.   She slid his shirt over his shoulders, but the cuffs got stuck on his wrists.
	"Allow me," he suggested and unbuttoned the cuffs.
	"The T-shirt too," she commanded.  Mulder used both hands to remove the clinging shirt over his head.  His arm muscles flexed as he did so.  Mulder wasn't built, per se, but he had a swimmer's tight lean body.  Now with Mulder naked from the waist up, Scully didn't know what to do with herself, so she just stared at his beautiful body.
	Mulder smiled and leaned in to kiss her.  Scully nudged him away.
	"No, Mulder," she whispered.  "I just need to look at you."
	Scully placed both hands on his chest and slid them down to his belly.  Mulder's chest tightened.  She slid them back up again stopping at the curve in his chest where his nipples were.  Her hands danced around his pecs massaging the points that became more and more erect with each turn.  Mulder's eyes closed and he sucked in his breath.
	"You're killing me," he pleaded.  "Please let me touch you."
	"Not yet," she informed him.
	Scully's hands paused for a moment, allowing his breathing to slow down, but only momentarily.  She leaned forward and kissed his lips.  He tried to reciprocate.
	"Patience," she cooed, and pulled away again.  Then she  moved to his chin and kissed him again.  She heard him groan in what sounded like pain, but she knew better.  She moved her legs off his lap and kneeled in front of him on the floor.  He allowed his legs to open and she sat between them.  With both hands she pushed him back so that he was resting against the back of the couch.  Scully wrapped both her arms around him and placed her cheek against his beating heart.  He tried to grab her shoulders to pull her closer, but she moved away.  Mulder just grunted knowing there was no use in arguing with this red-head.  Instead he clenched his hands and kept them at his side.  Scully moved from the left to the right brushing her soft cheek against the hair on his chest.  Scully slid down to his belly button and kissed him.  She used her tongue to dip in and out of the little opening, all the while basking in the moans that grew louder with each kiss.  She moved back up his chest to the erect nipples and flicked her tongue on the very tip.  His hips jerked forward, but she didn't stop.  Her lips now swollen from the force of his previous kissing, surrounded the little nub and suckled gently.  His hips moved against her belly.  She was painfully conscious of his erect member on her belly.  She moved to the other nipple sucking a little harder this time and used her warm tongue to tease just the tip.  His hips were rocking now and his member tensed against the denim fabric of his jeans.  He clenched and unclenched his fists grabbing at the couch for support.  Scully was enjoying every minute of this torture.  With each movement, she grew hotter.  With each moan, she wanted him more.  She wasn't sure who would give in first, but she knew neither one would last much longer.  In a flicker of an instant her question was answered.  Mulder grabbed both of her hands from his chest and pulled her towards him.  
	"Come here," he commanded pulling her to the couch.  Scully found herself straddling his hips, her knees against the back of the couch, his face between her breasts.  His hands grabbed at her flesh, his mouth suckling her over the fabric.  His hips continued to rock, only this time against the warm pulsing flesh between her legs.  She sucked in her breath and moved with him.  His able fingers found the edge of her shirt and pushed it up and over her head, leaving her totally exposed save the thin wisp of lace that was her bra.  He quickly undid the plastic clasp at the front of the garment and it snapped open, exposing her completely.  Without a moment to spare he filled his mouth with her, moving, groping, suckling, laving every bit of her.  It was her turn to groan and beg for mercy.  But no amount of pleading would stop him from satisfying her completely.  He needed her, wanted her, had to have every inch of her.  He moved to the other breast.  Using his able tongue he flicked and teased the rim of her pebbled skin then devoured the nub with his warm wet mouth.  Scully sucked in her breath and grabbed his head pushing him further into her body.  His manhood strained against his pants and she moved her body against him, feeling how ready she was for him.  My God, she'd never wanted anyone more.  She'd never wanted anything more than to feel his body tightly inside her, pushing, pulling, until she exploded with him.  She was totally in his control now.  No amount of pleading would stop him from this tremendously beautiful torture he was inflicting on her.  Mulder slid his hands beneath her round bottom and found her core through the thin fabric of her stretch pants.  Scully bit her lip, but the whimper escaped anyhow.  Mulder's right arm encircled her waist, while the left explored the inner warmth of her center.  Even through the fabric and her panties he could feel how ready she was for him.  Scully moved with him, her arms around his neck holding on to him for support.  She grew higher and higher with each movement of his hand.
	"I've got you, Scully" he cooed in her ear, never stopping the flaming assault on her senses.  She tried to articulate something, but she couldn't quite make the words.
	"I"ve got you," he repeated.  "Let it happen."
	Scully held him tighter afraid she'd fall apart if he let her go.  Suddenly the world stopped spinning.  Scully's eyes were tightly shut and she felt her body falling, falling away out of this world.  Her  muscles tensed, spasmed and released against him.  He held her all the time repeating,
	"I've got you, I"ve got you, I've got you."
	A cry escaped her throat, and she felt his arms hold her tightly.  She was safe, secure, and loved.  No one could hurt her.  No one would dare harm her with him at her side.  Scully rocked her body against him as he held her tightly.  
	When the wave subsided, Scully found herself crying softly against his shoulder.  Mulder whispered something consoling, loving, and gentle in her ear.  The words were unimportant.  She knew that she was loved.  Nothing else mattered.
	The water in the tub had grown cold.  Scully quickly stepped out of the tub and into her terry cloth robe.  She'd had fantasies about Mulder before, but this one was by far the most intense.  She wondered if she'd be able to look her partner in the face without blushing.  
	That whole week Scully found that she couldn't look him straight in the eye.  She thought for sure he could read her mind.  She would never have guessed that just yesterday when she went to his apartment to  consul him, they'd end up in eachother's arms.  Her fantasy had become a reality.  Yet in just 24 hours that fantasy had turned into a nightmare.  The man she had loved secretly in her heart for four years was dead. 

End of Part III 


Disclaimer:  The characters in this story don't belong to me.  They belong to Chris Carter and the Fox Network.
Summary:  A post Gesthemane MSR, rated NC-17.  

The Ressurection:  Part 4/4
	Scully slid down the wall clutching the photograph to her chest. She hit the floor suddenly but without feeling.  All the feeling her body contained, fell into her heart.  She felt hot, and moisture seeped from every pore like humidity from the rainforest.  She was warm and chilled, her body tingled and froze.  Her brow furrowed and her eyes began to burn.  The salty water held back by her lids swelled and overflowed down her burning cheeks.  The pain in her belly filled her body and poured out through her eyes and onto her hands, collecting each one like petals in the wind torn from a flower.  Her steamy skin held the tears as they fell from her face.  She curled herself up into a ball and tumbled to the side, her arms clutching her legs in a fruitless embrace.  The tears stung, until her cheeks were saturated and could not feel the individual droplets any longer.  When the pain of loss grew so deep and she could no longer contain it, pitiful cries poured out of her throat.  Inaudible at first, then increasingly louder until the room rang with the sound of her grief.  Her stomach knotted and cramped, her throat tightened.  Agony poured from her lips, strangled by the pressure of her hands against her face.  She stifled the sobs as much as she could, but they emerged all the same.  Wailing cries of torment poured forth over and over until her body was spent.  The moisture from her falling tears and the sweat from her palms were indistinguishable, as she righted her body against the wall.  Her hair fell over her face and was left in her eyes.  Her arms sagged to the ground, her head tilted to her shoulder under the weight of their pain.  Tears continued to flow unabashed down her face, but the sounds from her deepest hell ebbed into silence.  Her sweaty body grew chilled and she shivered, though no attempt was made to warm herself.  She sat with her knees to the side on the kitchen floor for what seemed like hours.  When it seemed the agonizing sobs had abated, the well burst forth once again.  Over and over for hours Scully struggled to control the pain.  She alternated between cries of rage and utter despair.  Gradually, the pain turned into a calm numbness.  She could no longer cry, even if she had wanted to.  The streaked mascara had all vanished along with any trace of make up.  Her tousled hair hung limp over her face and she tucked it back behind her ears.  She'd never felt so alone in her life.  Ashamedly, even Melissa's death hadn't bore a hole this deep into her soul.  She felt unbearably heavy and unable to move.  Surely death felt akin to this, although death would have been preferable to this torment.  She'd lost her touch stone.  More than a friend or lover, the ultimate soulmate.  She'd never fully realized how much her life had become apart of his, until she'd lost him.  Part of her had died today.  A part that could never be filled.  A chasm destined to remain empty.  Worse than death, she'd remain alive with the reminder of her lover lost.  Fate had allowed her a taste of joy, only to be hastily and fatally  removed.  Her life had been rendered unbearable.  His love, a wink of a memory.

	Scully crawled to the nearest chair and pulled herself up.  Walking to her couch was as far as she could carry herself.  She fell like a massive weight onto the sofa and pulled the Afghan over herself.  Sleep would come quickly, but not peacefully.  Like fireworks exploding in the sky, the dreams came on suddenly.  

	The lovers sat beneath an oak tree.  A traditional picnic lay before them half eaten.  A wine bottle half drunk leaned against the wicker basket.  The woman allowed the full weight of her little body to lean back against the man behind her.  His arms encircled her, her head leaned back against his shoulder.  The man's rough cheek brushed against her auburn hair.  They were at peace.  A small votive candle burned in an ivory holder.  The flame was small and unnecessary but it created the perfect detail to a romantic setting.  His hands played with her red hair, alternating with caresses down her arms.  It was a perfect day with the perfect man.  Her man.  As the day progressed, the sun slid behind the trees and nighttime engulfed the happy  couple.  It grew dark and the wind picked up it's lazy breeze.  The candle flickered but instead of blowing out as she had expected the flame grew brighter and more vivid.  As the wind picked up, the flame grew higher and eventually the little votive  was knocked over.  At first she wasn't concerned expecting it to immediately extinguish itself.  The winds grew louder and the flame engulfed the red and white blanket.  Dana dashed to put out the fire as it consumed the remaining articles.  The blaze was rising now, devouring everything in it's path.  Feeding on every branch, leaf, and twig, the fire now encircled her little body, separating her from her lover.  
	Dana's body blistered from the heat surrounding her.  Every attempt to escape her prison, only seemed to fuel the fire.  Branches above her ignited and exploded, dropping lethal balls of fire dangerously close to her head.  Realizing she was losing the battle,  Scully called to her partner.  Her plea unheard against the roar of the blaze.  Turning in circles to search for him, he was no where to be found. 
	Perilously close to death, she screamed into the wind,
	"Mulder!" 
	She woke up feverishly hot, her body soaking wet from sweat.  Immediately she knew it was only a dream, but knowing it did not change the fact that he really was gone.  
	Dead.
	Once again the sobs racked her body.  Her ears buzzed and  tingled, her lips pressed together.  She bit the inside of her bottom lip desperately trying to remain in control.  Failing, she looked up at her ceiling to keep the tears from falling.  This time instead of streams they fell like droplets onto her chest.  She gasped for air, no longer able to breathe from her nose.  She held her breath momentarily to try and gain control, but unable to, the sobs leapt from her body in strangled gasps.  The pressure from trying to hold it in grew increasingly worse.  She squeezed her eyes closed, her mouth hung open, and her face scrunched up into a distorted painful mask of horror.  She gasped for air barely able to breath now, even from her mouth.  She placed her hand across her face and pressed one finger into her mouth.  She sucked the finger for comfort but found none.  The gulps for air became desperate and she began to cough and hiccup.  Her body was desperately hot and sweaty, and her wet clothes  clung to her sobbing body.  
	When her breathing eased, the wailing cries subsided.  Instead tears fell effortlessly down her cheeks.  With her finger still in her mouth, she gnawed at the fingernail.  Over and over she repeated the futile words and stared at the ceiling.
	"Mulder.  Mulder.  Mulder.  MulderMulderMulderMulder..."

*		*		*		*		

	He woke up suddenly hearing someone calling his name.  He couldn't remember for a second where he was, then looked around the dingy motel room.  He saw his overcoat.  His gun in the holster.  Then he remembered.  I'm dead.
	Mulder glanced at his watch and was surprised to find that it was already 10:35 AM.  He rarely overslept.  The ringing in his ears continued.  He could have sworn he heard someone calling his name.  Then he remembered.  It wasn't just someone, it was Scully.  
	He dashed out the door grabbing the few possessions he still owned.  He couldn't do it.  He could not deceive her this way. He'd find another way to save her, but not like this.  This charade was  callous and heartless.  He glanced at his reflection in the mirror.  
	"You better hope it's not too late," he said to himself.

*		*		*		*		

	Somehow, miraculously, the FBI agent pulled herself together.  She showered and even managed to dress herself when the phone rang.
	"Agent Scully, it's  Walter Skinner."  The introduction was unnecessary, she knew his voice well.
	"Yes sir," The agent managed to sound professional despite the anguish in her heart.
	"How are you?" he asked.
	"I'm fine sir," she muttered with all her strength, though it was apparent to them both that she wasn't.  Walter Skinner had long suspected his two agents were more than partners, and if his hunch was true, she was anything but fine.
	"Agent Scully," he paused "you are needed at a meeting of the Section Chief."
	"Scott Blevins?" she asked curiously.  Blevins had been the one to assign her to the X-Files all those years ago in order to discredit Mulder's work.  
	"There will be other FBI officials as well," he explained.  "But it will be lead by the Section Chief."
	"Yes, sir."  Scully wondered at the purpose of this meeting, but she had her suspicions.  All Blevins had ever  wanted was a reason to shut down the X-Files and Fox Mulder.  She suspected now they had a reason, and they needed her to substantiate it.  
	Mulder tore through traffic like a madman, but found himself staring at brake lights on the 270/495 split.  The urgency to get to his partner was overwhelming.  He went over it again and again in his mind.  He could explain everything, he told himself.  She'd understand.  She'd have to understand.

	Scully was already in Blevins office before Fox Mulder had even made it to her exit.  The Section Chief explained the purpose of the meeting.  As she had previously suspected, the purpose was to report on the illegitimacy of her partner's work.  Later during the meeting while battling to maintain her composure, Dana disclosed to the group that her partner died of an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.

*		*		*		*		

	Mulder pounded on her door.  It was apparent she wasn't home, but he couldn't accept it and continued the assault on the door.  
	"Please God, answer the door."  
	When it finally became apparent to him that she wasn't answering he gave up.  
	"I'm too late," he thought.

*		*		*		*		

	The meeting had taken more out of her than she realized.  She made it home, and was grateful she hadn't gotten in an accident on the way.  Scully slipped the key into the lock and entered the dark apartment.  
	"I don't remember turning all the lights off," she thought and walked apprehensively into the apartment. She threw her overcoat into the closet and with great trepidation continued.  She knew something was wrong when she saw the photograph of Mulder on the coffee table.  She was sure she hadn't left it there.  Her eyes darted around the room looking for the nearest light.  She found it and flicked on the lamp.  That's when she saw him.  
	"Scully," he whispered as he stood .  Her whole world turned upside down.  The room went pitch-black and it felt as if she'd been hit in the head.  She didn't try to fight the overwhelming darkness.  She gave into it, and gratefully everything went blank.
	Mulder ran to her and knelt by her side.  He'd anticipated many reactions, but he hadn't expected her to faint.  He didn't think it was possible to feel any worse, but seeing her collapse, his heart plunged even further.  He gently lifted her little body off the floor and carried her to the bedroom.  He'd often fantasized about carrying the petite red-head off to the bedroom, but never had he envisioned this scenario.  Very carefully, he placed her on the center of the mattress.  He lifted her torso for a moment to remove her coat, then placed her back down on the bed, putting her head on the pillow.  He removed each of her high healed pumps and debated whether or not to remove her panty hose.  In the end he decided to make her as comfortable as possible and removed the restricting nylons.  Her comforter had been folded neatly over the bottom of the bed and he pulled it over her body, tucking it under her chin.  Afraid to leave her, he sat by the edge of the bed and watched her.  Her breathing was steady, so he knew she wasn't in any medical danger.  Confident she'd be okay if he left her for a moment, he went to the kitchen to fetch a cool rag to place on her brow.  Watching her on the bed, he wondered  how he ever could have thought of putting her through even a moment of pain.  How could he have been so selfish?  Hadn't she been through enough?  He continued to berate himself until he saw her little eye lids flutter, and open.
	When she woke up, she was in her bed.  The table lamp was on and a cool damp cloth had been placed on her forehead.  She felt lighter, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her.  She couldn't understand it, until she saw him sitting at her side, by the edge of the bed.  
	"I'm dreaming," she stammered blinking her eyes.
Mulder said nothing, but inched closer, so that his body was flush up against hers.  
	"How?" The only word able to escape her lips.  Mulder still said nothing, only looked down, instantly ashamed.  Scully tried to sit up, but her head began to spin and quickly changed her mind.  Mulder eased her back down, and leaned one arm protectively over her body, his face but mere inches from hers.  
	"Touch me," she said, still unable to move.  Mulder reached out and caressed her face with his fingertips.  And with that one touch she knew it was no dream.  He was alive.  Tears formed again for the hundredth time in 24 hours, and spilled down her face.  He brushed them away, and leaned forward his lips now only a kiss away.  He pressed his lips against hers softly and gently.  She found suddenly she had the strength of ten men and reciprocated willingly.  Their bodies met in a heated embrace.  Their lips slamming into eachother in utter desperation.  She bit his bottom lip drawing blood, tasting it in her mouth, loving the feel of his life inside her.  The frantic mingling continued.  Mulder pulled her upper body off the bed wrapping both arms around her tiny waist.  Scully wrapped her arms  around his neck and pulled him tightly against her breast.  Sounds of joy, ecstasy, lust and passion filled the room, though no words were spoken.   

	Afraid that if she let go, he would disappear, as he had in her dream, the red head grabbed at every part of her lover's body.  Her fingers caressed his back, her hands fondled his chest, her eyes bores holes deep into his soul searing them together forever.  The erotic dance choreographed by the two lovers, grew in intensity, threatening to overflow, as Mulder grabbed the back of her head in an attempt to bury his tongue even further into her mouth.  When he did so, she jumped back and grunted loudly.
	"Ow!"
	He pulled away quickly, surprised such little force caused such pain.  She grabbed the back of her head and rubbed the swelling knot.
	"Must have been where I landed when I fainted."
	"I'm not surprised, you pretty much landed square on your head," he teased.  "Gracefully, I might add."
	She gave him "the look" and swatted his chest.  Changing his tone from sarcasm to concern, her lover touched the bump and rubbed it gently.
	"Are you okay?"
	"Well, I haven't eat since..."  
	Mulder looked down knowing this conversation was inevitable, but dreading it all the same.
	"you died."  Eying him curiously, she continued, though her statement sounded more like a question.
	"I know what I saw.  I saw you dead on your apartment floor." 
	He inhaled deeply, stalling, looking for all the right words, knowing there were none.
	"You did see me, Scully," he sighed.  
	"Well, you saw what you thought was me."
	She continued to eye him curiously.
	"You saw a body that looked like me."  
	Her stare made him increasingly nervous as he stammered over the words.
	"You saw, Eddie.  Van Blundht."  His eyes were now permanently locked on his lap.
	"The one with the tail?" she asked in disbelief.
	"Well, ya, but he doesn't have it anymore."
	Her voice grew louder, though no less shocked.
	"The one who tried to kiss me that night, pretending to be you?"
	"The same," he replied matter of factly.
	"I don't understand,"  
	He could see the wheels in her head spinning to make sense of the overload of information.
	"I thought he was in jail.  What was he doing in your apartment?" The questions poured out of her like lava from Vesuvius.
	"What was he doing pretending to be you?"
	  He wanted to answer each question, yet feared her reaction to his feeble explanations.
	"I brought him to my apartment," he stammered.
	"You what?"  Her voice became still, but incredulity ran deep as water.
	"I wanted him to help me," he said.
	"What on earth for?" she questioned.
	"Please," he began," this is really difficult."
	"Mulder, why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this?"
	"Women's intuition?"  he joked.  Scully wasn't smiling.
	"I wanted Eddie to... become Skinner so..."  he paused at every word.  
	"he could break into... his office."
	"You what?"  She asked incredulously.
	"So he could get some information on Cancerman."
	"All right, all right," she said aloud, though it was apparent she was talking to herself.
	"What does this have to do with Eddie shooting himself in your apartment?"
	"He didn't shoot himself," he started, but Scully interrupted him.
	"Oh, here we go again."
	"I left him alone in the apartment, but I had my gun with me, see..." he showed her his weapon.  
	"Eddie must have been playing G-man when they broke in.  They thought it was me and made it look like a suicide."
	"Who's 'they'?" she asked, disbelieving.
	Mulder's nervousness turned to anger and his voice began to rise along with hers.
	"I don't know.  THEM  The ones who gave you cancer, the ones who are covering up the truth.  The ones who took the body of the alien.  THEM."
	"Did you see this happen?"
	"No, I came back and saw him dead," he knew this was leading to the eventual specifics.
	"Wait a minute..." she fumbled, "You knew?"
	"Let me explain," his voice suddenly distant.
	"You knew?" she cried, "and you let me believe..."
	He reached out to her, but she pulled back slamming against the head board.  
	"You let me believe you were dead?" she yelled in anger, but the tears formed instantly on her lids.  His heart shattered.
	He was afraid of the rage that poured from her eyes, but it didn't stop him from pulling her body into his.  He knew no amount of explanation would justify his actions.  He only wanted to hold her until she stopped hating him.  
	Though tiny, the red headed agent was no pushover.  Mulder pinned her against his chest, but she fought like a tiger.  She pulled at his shoulders, kneed him in the back, and screamed like a hyena.
	"You bastard!  You bastard!" she shrieked, never giving up the fight.  But she was no match for him, and she knew it.  Mulder held on for dear life, as she clawed his back with her nails.  He wrestled her arms against the headboard to keep her from assaulting him.  She shook her red mane vainly, trying to attack.  He moved to sit on her legs so she couldn't fight him with her knees.  She was immobile, and she hated it.  Hated him.  She'd never hated anyone more in her life.
	"You lying, manipulative, bastard!" she roared.  
	Mulder hated pinning her against the bed, but he had no choice.  At this point if he let her go, she'd shoot him.  Also, he knew that if he let her go, he might never get her back.  He had to keep her in reach.  If he could just explain...
	"Scully, stop it!" he pleaded, his voice once again rising.  
	"Let me go!" she yelled still fighting against him.  Mulder was growing tired and knew he couldn't keep her like this forever.  He grabbed both her wrists in one hand and pulled her forward, down the bed.  With the other, he twisted her around onto her stomach.  He straddled her thighs, and kept her hands locked behind her.  Her struggling intensified, though it was far more difficult for her to maneuver in this position.  
	"Damn you, let me go!"
	"Not until you calm down!"  His voice like thunder.
	"You bastard, how dare you?" she barked.  "You let me believe you are dead.  You let me suffer, thinking you were gone, and now you want me to calm down?"
	"I did it for you!" countered.
	"For me?!" she yelled.  Scully reaffirmed her struggle, only this time with greater ferocity.  He knew he shouldn't have said that, but he was so angry and frustrated, he didn't know what to say.  He only knew he wanted her to calm down, so he could explain.  Mulder pulled her wrists closer together, hoping it would convince her the struggle was useless.  Surprisingly,  she slowed her movements and moaned.
	"Let me go.  You're hurting me," her voice softer, more fragile.
	He immediately loosed up his grip, but didn't let go.
	"You promise to calm down?" he asked skeptically.
	"Yes," she whimpered.
	Mulder sat up, his hips off her thighs, and turned her around on the bed so that she was now facing him.  His hands remained around her wrists and he leaned forward, placing each one beside her head.  He knew she could knee him in the groin, if she'd wanted to,  but he counted on the fight being out of her.  He had expected to see her cheeks flushed with rage, but instead, he saw her face streaked with tears.  Mulder's face was only inches from hers.  He yearned to kiss away the pain, to take her in his arms and make endless love to her.  But he knew, for her to share that kind of bond with him, she'd have to trust him.  And right now he was the enemy.  He'd made her suffer unnecessarily and he prayed he could undo the hurt.
	"How could you do this to me?" she asked so softly he almost didn't hear her.
	"How could you tell me you loved me," she pleaded, "and then make me believe you were gone?  How could you?"
	So, she *hadn't* been asleep.  She'd heard him mutter those words into her ear.  Knowing he loved her, had only made her suffer more.  
	"I'm so afraid to lose you," he confessed.  
	"And you think me losing *you* would be easier?"  she queried.
	"Scully," he paused, afraid to say something else that would dissolve the truce between them.  "You're dying."
	She looked at him, her eyes conveying that she didn't understand where he was going with this.
	"You say you're fine, but... I know you're getting worse," he said.  "I had to do something.  I thought that if Eddie could get some information on Cancerman, I could bribe him, for your life."
	Scully's eyes became clearer as she began to understand his motives.
	"I didn't intend for Eddie to get killed, but when I saw him - me dead, I thought..."
	"I thought that if they believed I was dead, they'd... cure you."
	A single tear spilled down her temple, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, she smiled at him.  Realizing he was still holding her wrists, he let go.  He flinched instinctively when he saw her hand come up to his face, but instead of hitting him, she touched his cheek tenderly.  He covered her hand with his and drew it back and forth over his cheek, feeling the warmth of her palm on his face.  
	"I'm so sorry," he said, "I never wanted to hurt you, I just..."
	"Shhhh," she whispered, "Kiss me."
	And he did.  He leaned forward and touched his lips with hers briefly.  He moved his body to one side, to avoid crushing her and ran his hand down her body, and up once more to her cheek.  She stirred beneath him, brushing her leg against his lean thigh.  Mulder bent his leg, fitting it directly between hers, feeling the warmth of her center on his knee cap.  Without her nylons, her bare flesh was only a wisp of satin away.  The thought excited him, and he grew hard.  She encircled his thigh with her leg, and teased him lovingly with her bare foot, as she slid it back and forth over his jeans.  
	His gentle kisses continued, but his hands roamed freely.  He found her breast and cupped it with his large hand.  It felt soft and warm, but the nipple grew harder with each stroke.  He heard her moan and her body squirmed beneath him, as he very lightly drew his palm over the tip of her nipple.  He marveled at her sensitivity and ached to feel her naked in his arms.  Moving to the buttons on her blouse, he deftly undid each one, taking his time, enjoying her movements below him.  Free at last, with only her bra separating them,  he stopped to gaze at her.  She was breathing deeply, and her breasts swelled with each inhalation.  He looked up at her, staring at her in amazement.  She blushed and looked away.
	"Look at me, Scully," he said.  
	As her eyes returned to his, Mulder revisited the warm mounds.  This time undoing the clasp in the front of her bra.  Her full breasts popped into view.  Slowly he pulled the nipple into his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers.  Her back arched and her eyes closed, as her head rolled back in ecstasy.  Still, he watched her.  Gently at first, he rolled his tongue over the flat nub, then lapped at it like a cat drinking milk.  She wiggled her hips against his growing erection, and turned her head from side to side, her red hair covering her face.  Harder now, he suckled the erect nipple, her moans increasingly louder with each tug.  His member ached to be released from the confines of his jeans, but he didn't want to stop.  Didn't want to miss the erotic mask she displayed, as he brought her further and further, higher and higher to the peak.  
	He knew she was close, but he wasn't ready to free her yet.  He wanted her to hold out a little longer.  He wanted her to ache for him, as he ached for her.  He wanted her to scream for him.  He wanted her to beg.
	He removed his mouth from her breast and heard her exhale in disappointment.  Her hands quickly went to his belt and undid the buckle.  Grateful to have an opportunity to remove his jeans, he took advantage of the situation.  She undid the zipper, but he moved to the edge of the mattress to remove the pants himself.  Along with the denim, came his socks, and his shirt.  All but the boxers beneath were removed.  Scully studied him, and quickly moved to him, kneeling behind him.  Her legs beneath her, she straddled his rear, and placed both hands around his waist.  Delicately she moved her hands about his chest, roving to and fro over his now erect nipples.  Without hesitation, Mulder turned to her, placing both hands around her bottom.  He picked up her little body without effort.  She wrapped her slim legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.  Mouths met in earnest.  Each taking from the other greedily, each giving selflessly.  She felt light as a feather in his arms.  Totally in his control, something she didn't give up easily.  But tonight, she was his.  
	With one hand beneath her rear, he held her to him.  The other hand undid the button of her skirt, and lowered the zipper.  Placing her gently back down on the bed, he pressed her onto her back, her legs bent, with her feet on the ground.  She tilted her bottom up so he could remove her skirt.  Slowly he slid it over her legs and down to the floor, where he picked it up and threw it to the corner.  He kneeled between her legs, as if praying before a goddess.  His goddess.  She was acutely aware of his eyes on her.  He could plainly see the effect he was having on her.   The only thing separating them were her panties now sodden with desire.  Her face flushed and she threw her hands up over her eyes to cover herself.  Love making was not something she indulged in often, but she'd never been embarrassed before.  She was astonished at her intense reaction to this man, and mortified she couldn't control her impulses.  But all inhibitions were gone now.  Any doubts, or questions were removed.  She wanted him with every drop of blood in her body.  First, she felt his hand run up the base of her calf.  Then, both hands up and down her legs, over her thighs, to the elastic on her panties.  Two fingers traced the edges and entwined themselves around the wiry curls of her hair.  He moved forward his face increasingly close to her secret opening.  She jerked when she felt his lips caress her inner thigh, his hands still exploring her white skin.  His lips moved closer and closer, teasing, then pulling away.  His tongue now journeyed to the upper edge of her panties.  He slipped his tongue just inside the rim then pulled back again.  Her legs were shaking now, and her little mewing sounds echoed through the room, begging him to release her.  
	"Not yet, Scully," he said to himself.  "Not quite yet."
	His lips traveled over the satin and down to her hiding place.   Over the fabric he exhaled, filling her with his warm breath.  She shuttered beneath him, grinding her hips against the mattress.  He inhaled, filling himself with her dark musky scent.  Her smell was erotic, hardening his length further.  Using his tongue, he found her nubbin through the fabric and teased just the tip, eliciting a loud moan from the woman shaking in front of him.
	"I can't, please," she begged.
	"Yes, you can.  Just a little longer," he whispered encouragingly.
	Mulder sat up, and placed both thumbs around the edges of the elastic.  With one movement, her panties were removed and tossed carelessly atop her skirt.  He pushed her legs further apart, exposing her totally to him.  Using his thumbs again, he pushed her inner lips apart to peer at the beautiful nub hidden in the protective walls.  He breathed on her again, this time slower and longer.  Her thighs tensed and she groaned.
	"Please," she begged.
	"Soon, soon," he cooed, enjoying her torment as much as he was enjoying his own.  Again his lips found her inner thighs and stroked each one, moving just a little closer each time to the center of her sex.  Unable to deny her any longer, he lifted his lips to her center and suckled gently.  She squirmed wildly beneath him, but he stayed with her.  His tongue lapped gently at the nub, stopping to keep her just on the edge, until he was ready to let her go. 
	"Are you ready?" he asked.
	He couldn't understand her words, but sure they were in the affirmative.  He clasped his mouth over her sex and suckled just a little harder his time, giving enough friction with his tongue to allow her release.  Her back arched off the bed and a high pitched squeal escaped her.  Bucking wildly against his mouth, her muscles contracted again and again, lifting her higher and higher over and back once more.  When the wave subsided, she fell back onto the bed, spent, her hands weaving their way through his hair, the only part of his body she could reach.
	"Come here," she muttered once she got her breath.
	On command, the agent rose to his feet and slid himself over her carefully.  Knowing she was painfully sensitive at the moment, he refrained from caressing her, though his body cried out for contact.  Still he waited patiently.
	"I love the way you come," he murmured.  "I love the way you taste."  Once again she became flushed.  Surprised at his ease for words.  
	Speechless, she pulled his lips to hers.  He pulled away to look at her before he spoke.
	"Are you sure?"  
	Any doubts he had about her willingness to make love to him were tossed into the wind.  Her eyes said everything he needed to know.  He moved away once more to remove the only clothing separating them.
	"Um, Scully?" he asked.
	"Top drawer," she answered, knowing the question.  Mulder opened the drawer and found an unopened box of condoms.
	"Were you a Girl Scout, Scully?" he teased ripping open the cardboard box.
	"Girl Scout?" she asked, unsure of the question.
	"Be prepared?" he grinned, and waved a foil package in the air.
	Scully sat up on her elbows, and lifted one brow in mock disapproval.
	"I just bought them, Mulder," she explained.  "Last time you kissed me, I knew I wouldn't last very long.  I decided to be ready when the time came."
	"That's my Scully," he joked. 
	He slipped the latex over his engorged member, and rolled it down.  Moving himself between her legs, he positioned his body over her.  Scully wrapped her legs around him and looked longingly into his hazel eyes.  Slowly, and gently, he inserted the tip into her opening.  He suspected she hadn't been with another man in a long time, and wanted to give her a chance to get accustomed to him.  Gliding into her cave, he felt her tense up.
	"Just relax, let your body take me in," he murmured, barely able to control the desire to thrust himself into her.
	He felt her relax beneath him, and continued moving himself into her, until he was engulfed in her warm, tight haven.  Moving back out again almost completely, Mulder struggled to hold himself together.  Repeatedly, he rode inside her body, and out again.  With each thrust he could feel her body rise once more.  Her breathing became labored, as did his.  Her movements grew short and choppy, as did his.  Their bodies separated and collided over and over until she cried out,
	"Mulder, now,"
	Obeying his partner, his friend, his lover,  he picked up the speed for one final thrust.  Every muscle in his body stiffened as he let out a moan, pouring every ounce of himself deep within her confines, filling her completely with his liquid life.
	Completely exhausted,  he withdrew himself very carefully, and moved to the side, to avoid crushing her.  She moved over him, resting her head on his chest.  Like the old friends they were, they didn't need to speak.  Each knew what the other was feeling.  Each had lost the other before, and each time they'd been resurrected.  They'd never let anyone or anything separate them again.
	"I won't leave you, Mulder" she said, reading his mind.  "I won't let it kill me.  Knowing you love me, is all I need to fight this thing."
	"We'll fight it together," he corrected.
	"Together."

The End

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