From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 8 Apr 2001 16:38:29 -0000
Subject: Revenge (Part 27 of 29) by Lovesfox by Lovesfox
Source: direct

Reply To: lovesfox@home.com



Title:            Revenge
Author:           Lovesfox
E-mail:           Lovesfox@home.com  (Feed me, please)
Web site:         http://www.geocities.com/sstormc/index.html
Rating:           NC-17 (violence, consensual M/S sex and strong 
                  language)
Category:         Implied UST then MSR, Angst, Story/X-File
Classification:   XRA
Spoilers:         Not really, but up to mid-S7
Archive:          As long as my name and everything stays attached
Summary:          An old case of Mulder's resurfaces seeking revenge

Disclaimer:       Alas, not mine.  They belong to Chris Carter and
                  1013 Productions

Dedication:       To true friendship, through thick and thin.  
                  Thanks, T.

Warning:          This story contains some scenes of violence, a
                  rape attempt, implied character death, references
                  to incest, and graphic sex.


Revenge Part 27 of 29
by Lovesfox


Walter Reed Army Medical Center
Washington, D.C.
Saturday
4:10 am


Margaret Scully kept her strides even and steady as they entered 
through the emergency doors of Walter Reed, remembering doing the 
same thing with Walter Skinner not so long ago, also seeking word 
about her daughter's condition.  She had been a bundle of nerves 
since receiving Mr. Skinner's phone call where he had told her Dana 
and Fox had been found and that Dana was injured, but had managed 
to keep it well hidden.

The young man who had driven her here from her house, Agent Hughes 
she recalled, had his hand on her elbow, and gently led her to the 
Nurse's station just inside the next set of sliding double doors.  
He then excused himself and stepped politely back, leaving her some 
privacy.

There was only one nurse behind the chest high counter, and she was 
on the telephone.  She held up one hand to signal she would be a 
moment, finished up her call, and then stepped over to stand close 
to the counter.  "May I help you?"

"My daughter, Dana Scully, was brought here.  She's an FBI agent..." 
Margaret began.  There was only the slightest quaver in her voice.

A sympathetic look immediately crossed the nurse's face, and 
Margaret felt her heart speed up, terribly afraid she was going to 
hear very bad news.  Mr. Skinner had not gone into great detail on 
the phone, but he had said Dana was in stable condition.  Had she 
worsened since then?

The panic must have shown on her face, for the nurse quickly said, 
"I didn't mean to alarm you, I'm sorry.  Your daughter's been taken 
upstairs to surgery, but she's doing very well.  There's another 
agent here who came with her in the ambulance, I'll get someone to 
take you to him, all right?"  She turned away and then looked back, 
adding, "Just a moment, please."  She paused once more and said, 
"Oh, and the doctor will be there shortly to speak to you and give 
you a better update."

Margaret released the breath she had been holding as soon as she 
heard the words 'she's doing very well', and eased her grip on the 
edge of the counter where she had unknowingly latched onto in her 
fear, and watched the nurse move out of sight.  Her fingers felt 
unnaturally cold, as she did all over.

A moment later another nurse came out from a door to the right of 
the nurse's station and touched Margaret softly on the shoulder, 
a kind smile on her face. "Ma'am?  If you'll follow me?"  She 
indicated which direction they were to go in with one hand, and 
started walking, the soles of her white nurse's shoes nearly 
soundless on the uncarpeted floor.

Margaret nodded and followed the nurse, along the hall a short bit 
to where it ended, branching off either to the left or the right.  

The nurse stopped and pointed down to her right, saying softly, 
"He's right there."

She thanked the nurse and turned the corner.  She immediately saw 
Mr. Skinner, sitting military straight in an uncomfortable-looking 
plastic chair, and beyond him, several meters further along, was 
Fox, apparently in mid-pace.

Both men appeared to see her at the same time, Mr. Skinner rising 
from his seat as she approached him, while Fox seemed to momentarily 
freeze in place before he resumed walking in her direction, his 
steps quite slow.  Margaret felt her heart twist.  He looked so 
lost and alone.  She put aside her worry for Dana for a moment, 
and concentrated on Fox.

It was obvious to her he was carrying an enormous burden, one of 
guilt and worry.  She sighed softly, inwardly, at his apparent need 
to lay claim to any and all blame when terrible things happened to 
her daughter, even when there was none.  She took a moment to curse 
the cold and uncaring nature of his upbringing, and to wonder what 
could bring parents to treat their child so, remembering the pain 
for him in Dana's voice as her daughter had related some of Fox's 
background to her after arriving late and unexpected one night on 
her mother's doorstep.

Margaret made sure there was no pity in her eyes as he drew nearer, 
only her love, and held open her arms in invitation.  She thought 
she saw tears glisten in his eyes, just before he came into her 
embrace, and felt answering tears spring into hers.  She held him 
tight, and rubbed one hand up and down his back, feeling his deep 
sigh, and the slight trembling of his body.  She said his name 
softly, and whispered, "Please don't blame yourself, Fox.  It hurts
me to see you like this."

Fox made a snuffling sound, and then spoke, his voice muffled by the 
fact that his face was pressed into her shoulder. "It is my fault.  
I...I pushed him and he..."

"Shhhh."  Margaret gave him one last squeeze and then drew back, 
lifting her arms up to cup his cheeks, and stared into his pain-
filled eyes.  "Don't," she said, and when his mouth worked in 
protest, added, "Please."

He closed his eyes briefly and then nodded, and she pulled away, 
turning to face Mr. Skinner, who had stood silently by while she had 
been hugging Fox.  She reached out and found one of Fox's hands, and 
held it, finding the chill of his fingers outmatched hers.  "The 
nurse told me Dana's been taken up to surgery, and that she's doing 
well," she told them.  "She also said the doctor should be coming 
shortly to speak to us and tell us a little more."  Her use of the 
pronoun 'us' showed she intended for the conversation to include 
both of them, for she knew they were just as worried about Dana as 
she was.

Through the clasp of their hands, Margaret felt Fox stagger a 
little, and turned back to him quickly.  His face was pasty white, 
and that was when she finally noticed the bandage at the side of his
hairline.  

"Fox, what happened?" she gasped, and manhandled him easily into one 
of the chairs. She was stronger than she looked.  She bent slightly 
at the waist, so their eyes were level with each other's, and asked, 
"Do you need the nurse?"

Fox shook his head and then winced, bringing one hand up to touch 
his forehead.  "No, I'm okay, Mrs. Scully.  I just got a little 
dizzy."

She sat down to his left, and touched him gently on the knee, 
resting her hand there.  She had always felt that the touching of 
another person was vital in life, particularly when that person was 
hurting.  She hoped he drew comfort, and perhaps strength from her.  
"What happened?" she repeated, and when Fox remained silent, shifted 
her gaze to his superior.

Mr. Skinner was frowning slightly while watching Fox, but he shifted 
to meet her eyes.  "He was shot at, but fortunately the bullet only 
grazed his head."

Margaret turned to look at Fox again, and asked him, "Did you see 
the doctor, Fox?"  She was almost positive he had not, for the 
bandage appeared to have been applied almost hastily, as if it were 
only a temporary one.  And it would be like him to ignore his own 
injuries in his worry for Dana.

He was silent for a minute, and would not look up at either of them, 
confirming her suspicion.  His voice was low and scratchy when he 
replied.  "They looked at it in the ambulance and cleaned it up.  
It's fine."  

She could feel the tension in his body as her hand lay on his knee, 
but had also learned from Dana that pushing him only resulted in him 
digging his heels in further.  So she didn't push, and said only, 
"If you're sure then."  Already plotting to get the doctor aside to 
ask him or her to take a look at Fox.

He nodded, and slumped back into his chair.  Mr. Skinner resumed his 
seat on her other side, and they sat silently together waiting for 
the doctor to appear.

Fortunately they did not have long to wait.

A tall, bespectacled man in a white doctor's coat came around the 
corner and called out, "Mrs. Scully?"

Margaret rose from her seat, followed by both Fox and Mr. Skinner 
and headed towards the man, whom she assumed was the doctor.  He met 
them halfway and holding his hand out, said in introduction, "I'm 
Dr. Richards, and I saw your daughter when she arrived in the 
Emergency Department."

Margaret shook his hand, confirmed she was indeed Mrs. Scully, and 
before she could say anything further, he spoke again, nodding at 
both Fox and Mr. Skinner.

"Agent Mulder, Mr. Skinner," he said, and then turned back to her. 
"I understand the nurse has already told you Miss Scully is up in 
surgery.  The bullet to her upper shoulder was what we call a 
through and through gunshot wound, and although I was fairly 
confident there was minimal, if any, damage to her joint or tendons, 
I called in the orthopedic surgeon for a consultation.  She remains 
in stable condition, and should be out of surgery within the hour.  
As for the other bullet, which struck her in the upper back, due to 
the intervention of her Kevlar vest, there is only a deep tissue 
bruise.  Of course there will be some pain from this injury, but I 
do not expect any complications to arise.  She'll be sent to our 
surgical floor after recovery, and will more than likely need to 
stay here for 2 to 3 days.  If there are no questions, I'll send 
an orderly to takeyou up to the surgical waiting room."

Margaret released a huge sigh of relief, and sent a quick glance 
upwards to thank God.  She could not think of any questions right 
then, she was just so glad to hear that Dana was going to be all 
right, so she shook her head and said, "Thank-you, Dr. Richards."

Fox had walked a few steps away, his back to them and his hands on 
his hips, but not before she had heard him echo her sigh.  

Remembering his head wound, Mrs. Scully took a step after the 
doctor, who had started to walk away after shaking Mr. Skinner's 
hand.  "Doctor?" she called softly, and when he turned, continued, 
"Agent Mulder was injured by a bullet grazing his head, and I don't 
think he's been treated yet." Seeing Fox had turned back to look at 
her, she added with a little wobble in her voice, "I'm worried 
about him."

The doctor looked towards Fox with concern, and told her, "I'll take 
a look at him right away, Mrs. Scully.  Come with me, Agent Mulder."

Fox had been frowning, with what looked like a protest on his lips, 
but at her last statement, he capitulated and headed after the 
doctor.

"Thank-you, Dr. Richards.  And thank-you, Fox," she said, and 
watched the two of them walk away.  She turned to resume her seat in 
the row of chairs and saw Mr. Skinner watching her with a look she 
could only describe as admiration.

"Very nice move, Margaret," he said, shaking his head a little and 
smiling.  He joined her at the chairs and sat down beside her again.

"Mother's guilt," she said with just a hint of smugness, and not a 
trace of a wobble.  "Works every time."

***

6:45 am

The feel of his chin hitting his chest woke Mulder from the 
unnatural sleep he had drifted into, and he snapped his head up, 
gaze immediately flying to the hospital bed, one hand going up to 
rub at the ache in his neck.  

Scully was still there, her eyelashes dark against her pale cheeks 
and her only slightly dulled red hair spread out on the crisp 
white pillow.  Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and the 
room was so quiet except for the quiet beeps of the heart monitor, 
that he imagined he could hear the steady drops of the IV solution 
as it was slowly fed into her system.

She was on her right side, facing him, propped up by a multitude 
of pillows, to help keep pressure of her bruised back and to elevate 
her injured and heavily bandaged shoulder, and her right arm lay 
outstretched from her body atop the covers.  Her hand was palm up 
with her fingers curled a little, and he fancied it was as if she 
were reaching towards him, even in her drugged state. 

Lifting himself partly off the chair, he reached down and grabbed 
the seat edge with one hand and carefully walked closer to the bed, 
pulling the chair with him.  Once his knees brushed the metal frame 
of the bed, he stopped and took his seat once more.  It was much 
better this way, for now he could easily hold her hand, and he
wondered why he hadn't thought of it earlier, when the nurse had 
first led him into Scully's room.

Of course lack of sleep and hours of worry and fear had taken their 
toll, not to mention a small head injury, leaving him fuzzyheaded 
and tired beyond all belief, and he felt he was lucky to have been 
able to walk after the nurse. Not that he would have let any of that 
stop him from seeing Scully.

Mulder's eyes flickered to her bandaged shoulder once more, and he 
recalled the update they had received from the surgeon, after Dr. 
Richards had finished the forced examination of his head wound and 
he had gotten the all clear.  

Mrs. Scully, Skinner and he had gone up to the other waiting room, 
and it seemed like just minutes after they had taken their seats, 
the orthopedic surgeon, a Dr. Chambers, had come in and told them 
Scully was in recovery and that there had been no other tissue 
damage to her shoulder.  She had tolerated the procedure well and 
would be moved to a surgical room in the next hour.

Mrs. Scully had been the first one to see Scully, at his insistence, 
for he had planned on staying until they kicked him out.  Scully had 
woken only very briefly to whisper to her mother that she was fine, 
and then Skinner had taken Mrs. Scully home.

Before Mrs. Scully had left though, she had taken something from 
around her neck and given it to him for safekeeping, until he could 
return it to Scully.  

Her cross necklace, the one she had thought lost forever.  

Mulder remembered how he had decided to buy her a new necklace, once 
they had learned it was gone, and how he had wanted to surprise her 
with it.  Only he hadn't been able to, with them being in each 
other's back pockets as their living arrangements had once been 
quaintly put, and he supposed it was just as well.

His free hand reached up and gently touched the cross where it lay 
at his throat, for around his neck was the safest place it could be 
until he could put it around hers.  Now that it was unnecessary for 
him to buy her a necklace, he wondered if there was some other piece 
of jewelry he could buy her.  The thought of going to purchase a 
necklace, of buying anything for her, had sent such an odd feeling 
of joy through him that he wanted to run out as soon as he could and 
do so.  He tried to picture her reaction to receiving a gift from 
him, having only a few short experiences to draw from, and each one
of those had been entirely different.

He remembered her childlike glee the Christmas morning at his 
apartment, after the interesting night spent at a haunted house, 
as he handed her a present, despite their mutual avowal not to buy 
anything for each other, and the enigmatic looks and her soft, 
flirty behavior at the baseball diamond the time he had given her 
the really early or really late birthday present, depending on how 
you looked at it.  Both times had been pretty pleasant experiences 
in his humble opinion.

Mulder wracked his brain, trying to think of any other times he had 
given her a present, and could only think of the Apollo 11 key 
chain, now broken by its collision with the pavement outside 
Scully's building, that he had given to her for her birthday quite 
a few years ago.

Was that all he had ever bought her?

He didn't like to count the gag gifts they had exchanged on other 
Christmases, chosen for their laugh or shock factor, like the tiny 
rubber alien hiding in her desk drawer that he had given her once.  
Mulder blinked in surprise as he recalled that in return that year, 
she had given him a beautiful, sedate silk tie.  He tried to think 
of any gag gifts that she had given him, and he could not.  It was 
always his to her that had been for fun.  

He had a lot to make up for, he thought.  Birthdays, Christmases, 
Valentine's Day...the list was endless.

Mulder was so intent on planning his shopping agenda for some time 
in the near future that he at first did not notice the twitching of 
her hand within his.  It was not until she actually squeezed his 
fingers did he realize Scully might be waking up.

He rose from the chair and leaned over the bed, saying her name very 
softly, still holding her hand.  She squeezed his hand again, and a 
smile took over his face.  He repeated her name, and watched as her 
eyelids flickered and then slowly opened, revealing hazy blue eyes 
that rolled as they tried to find him.

Her mouth opened and closed like a baby bird's, and then she licked 
her lips before trying to speak.  "Mul..." It was the faintest of 
sounds, and he could tell her mouth was very dry by the way she 
tried to swallow several times to work up some moisture.

He brought his free hand up to softly stroke her bangs off her 
forehead, and said, "Hey, Scully, I'm right here.  Do you want some 
ice chips or water?"

"Mmmm," was all she said, and her eyes drifted shut.  

He thought she had fallen asleep again, and was about to sit back 
down when she whispered,  "Mulder?  You...okay?"  Her eyes had 
remained closed, but he could tell she was not going to sleep as he 
had first thought.

"Me?" he asked.  "I'm fine, Scully, and so are you."  He continued 
to stroke her hair, and she moved her head a little on the pillow, 
a slight smile on her lips.  "Doctor said there was no damage to 
the tendons in your shoulder or anything, and you'll be out of here
in a couple of days."

"That's good..."she sighed, and he smiled a little to himself.  She 
was on the good stuff, and thankfully feeling no pain.  

Unfortunately he knew that would change, probably when the initial 
dose wore off.  But Scully was a trooper, and hated to give in to 
her pain.  Knowing her, once she was alert and clearheaded, she'd 
be trying to convince the doctor to let her go home early.

And as much as he wanted her home, so they could talk about where 
they were going to go with their relationship, he did not want her 
to push herself to soon.  Recalling Mrs. Scully's trick to get his 
head looked at, he hoped she could pull the guilt trip on Scully 
just as well as she had pulled it on him.

"You just rest, Scully," he said.  "Okay?"

She moved her head against the pillow and his hand in agreement and 
then whispered, "You...stay?"

"Always, Scully," he replied.  

And he meant it in more ways than one.

Mulder kept up the motions of his fingers on her head until she had 
reentered never-never-land, and then resumed both his seat in the 
chair and his grasp of her hand.  He let out a deep yawn and then 
shook off his tiredness.  His own sleep could wait until later.

***

10:15 am

Slowly a persistent, nagging ache in her upper body penetrated her 
sleep, and Scully began to wake, swimming towards consciousness with 
reluctance, not yet ready to leave that calm place where nothing 
could disturb her.

Other things drifted into her awareness, the dry, gummy feeling in 
her mouth, that all too familiar antiseptic smell of a hospital, the 
slow steady blip of a heart monitor, and the most welcome of all, 
the touch of Mulder's fingers on her hand.  With a small smile, she 
opened her eyes, blinking rapidly in an effort to clear the residual 
drugged sleepiness from them.  

When her vision was clear, she turned her head carefully on the 
pillow to look for Mulder, trying not to move to quickly or jar her 
shoulder in any way.  She was only partially successful, the slight 
pull on her neck muscles caused her shoulder to twinge angrily, and 
she winced with the fresh pain.  She took several slow, deep breaths 
until the pain had subsided to a dull ache once more.

Luckily she had been able to hold in the accompanying moan when she 
had moved, for it would have woken Mulder, whom she had immediately 
spied, sleeping in what had to be the most uncomfortable position 
she could imagine.  And having spent too many nights, more than she
wanted to think about actually, on stakeouts in cars and other, more 
unsavory places, she could imagine quite a few.

Lifting her head just slightly from the pillow for just a moment, 
she was able to see that he was sitting in a chair, one of those 
ugly plastic ones, standard to every hospital she had ever had the 
misfortune to be in, that never conformed to your body no matter how 
many times you tried.  It both amused her and relieved her, for at 
first glance she had thought he had been overcome with exhaustion 
and was sleeping on his feet, leaning over the rail of her bed.  She 
knew the chair had to be pushed as close as he could get it, for him 
to be able to achieve the position he had, which seemed to almost be 
stretching his spine.

Scully was glad he was asleep, because it gave her time to study 
him, without him jumping up and making everything about her.  She 
appreciated his concern, had even grown somewhat dependant on it, 
but sometimes she wished it wasn't so all-consuming.  

Because he was on the right side of her bed, she had a clear view of 
the side of his head where the bullet had grazed him.  She could see 
it had been taken care of, and she was thankful, for it would be 
like Mulder to push aside his own hurt in his concern for her.  

The bandage was neat, and cleanly white without a hint of a 
bloodstain, which relieved another worry she had been holding inside 
her since the moment she realized Elliot's first shot had indeed 
struck Mulder.  He had told her the bullet had just grazed him, but 
she had seen him stagger, and there had been quite a bit of blood.  
She had been afraid he had been hurt worse than he had admitted to.

Now that her fear had been partly assuaged, for it would only truly 
be alleviated when Mulder was awake and talking to her, she was able 
to study the rest of him.  His hair was spiked every which way, like 
it was in the mornings before he showered, or after her hands had 
run through it over and over again while he pleasured her with his 
mouth, and the lower part of his face that she could see was lightly 
stubbled, for his other cheek was pillowed on his bent arm.  There 
were deep lines around his eyes and mouth, lines that she knew were 
from fatigue and anxiety, and he was paler than normal.

His other hand was lying on the mattress, only millimeters from 
hers, and with the tiniest of stretches, she was able to reach it, 
so that her fingers brushed his.  The small contact was enough to 
wake him.

Mulder's eyes popped open as he lifted his head, bloodshot and full 
of confusion for just a brief instant.  Then all traces of tiredness 
fled, and his hand was moving to clasp hers more firmly, a gentle 
smile crossing his lips.   "Scully."

His voice was husky, as was hers when she replied.  "Hey, Mulder."

He gave her hand a small squeeze and then released it to get up, 
the chair scraping back noisily as he did, and moved until he was 
standing at the head of her bed.  "How are you feeling?"  he asked 
tenderly, one hand coming up to brush a strand of hair off of her 
face, his hazel eyes lovingly tracing her every feature.

"Actually, not too bad," she replied honestly.  "A little sore, 
and I could probably go back to sleep again, but I was enjoying 
looking at you."  She paused a second and then added in her prim 
doctor's voice, having caught the wince he had tried to hide as he 
stood, "Even if you should be at home sleeping.  Mulder, you 
look..."

"Terrible?" he put in with a wry twist of his lips.

Scully pursed her lips in mock displeasure.  "I was going to say 
that you look exhausted."

"I'm fine," he insisted.

Now she knew why he hated those two words so much.  "Mulder," she 
sighed, and forgetting for a moment she had to be careful when 
moving, tried to lift her arm to touch him.  Pain flared, fast and 
furious, in both her shoulder and her back, and she squeezed her 
eyes tightly shut as she moaned.

Shit, did that ever hurt.  

She clenched her teeth to hold back another moan, the fingers of 
her right hand gripping at the bedclothes, and heard Mulder say her 
name with apologetic regret.  Once again assuming he was to blame.  
If she'd had the strength, and wasn't being wracked by pain, she'd 
have called him on it.

Naturally her heart rate had accelerated, and the monitor gave a 
discordant note.  Only seconds had gone by and there came the sound 
of the door swooshing open and rapid footsteps as someone came to 
the bed.   

Scully was dimly aware of a female voice, most likely one of the 
nurses, trying to order Mulder from the room, and he vehemently 
refusing to go while she panted in an effort to control the pain.

She wasn't ready for him to go yet, hadn't really had much time to 
look at him, and to talk to him. She opened her eyes and this time 
the sound she made was more one of protest than anything else.  

It had the effect she wanted, for the nurse subsided in trying to 
eject Mulder from the room, and he resumed his spot close to her 
head.  His hand hovered over her for a moment before it descended 
to stroke through her hair.

The nurse leaned over the rail and patted her hand, which had 
relaxed its hold on the sheets.  "Can you tell me what's wrong?" 
she asked in a gentle voice, so different from the one she had 
spoken to Mulder with.

"I moved by mistake," Scully replied, a little tightly.  While the 
pain was not as intense, it had not retreated completely.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Scully," the nurse said then.   "You're 
slightly overdue for your pain meds.  We had two new patients come 
down from surgery and we got a bit backlogged.  I'll be right 
back."  With that she turned and swiftly left the room.

Before the door had even finished closing, Mulder was already 
apologizing.

"Mulder, stop blaming yourself for everything," she sighed.  She 
kept her eyes on his face, and saw his mouth opening, probably to
protest.  She spoke again, not giving him the chance to do so. 
"Mulder, I wanted to hold your hand, and I forgot and moved, 
okay?  You didn't do anything."

"But, Scully..."

"Mulder, when the nurse gives me the pain medication, I am going 
to fall asleep within a matter of minutes," Scully interrupted 
him.  "So please give me a kiss before she comes back."

His face immediately softened like she knew it would, and he bent 
down over the railing to bring his face to hers.  His hand moved 
from her hair to her cheek, and his thumb gently caressed the 
delicate skin beneath her eye before he brought his lips to hers 
in a soft kiss.

For some inexplicable reason, her eyes welled with tears.  She tried 
to blink them away, but of course Mulder saw them as he was drawing 
back, and his eyes grew worried. 

"Scully?  What's wrong?  Did I hurt you?"

Scully sniffled, feeling foolish and tired and weepy, and hastened 
to tell him in a watery voice, "No, Mulder, you didn't hurt me.  
I just...I, oh...I love you so much, Mulder!"  A lone tear had 
gathered and lay trembling on her lashes.

"I love you too, Scully," he replied, sliding his thumb up to wipe 
away the wetness.  He smiled anew, and this time it was teasing. 
"Boy, those drugs really make you silly, don't they?"

She chuffed out a tiny laugh.  "Brings back memories of another 
hospital bedside declaration, doesn't it?"

"Oh, brother!" he mimicked, still smiling, and bent to press another 
kiss on her, this one at the corner of her mouth.

The door opened then, and Mulder straightened rather hastily, but he 
stayed at his post by her head.  The nurse came over to the bed and 
competently injected the pain medication in Scully's IV port.  "My 
apologies again, Miss Scully," she said, and then turned her gaze to 
Mulder.  "Excuse me for a moment, please.  I need to take her 
vitals."  

Mulder stepped aside with a small nod, and Scully watched him while 
the nurse checked her blood pressure and temperature and jotted the 
results down on the chart she had brought with her.  He kept his 
eyes on her face the whole time, until the nurse moved to lift the 
bedcovers.  Then he turned his back to them and Scully knew it was 
to give her some privacy.  The nurse first looked at the surgery 
site, peering briefly at the drainage tube, before she checked her 
catheter quickly.  She then fixed the bedclothes around her, gave 
her a small smile, picked up her chart and left the room.

Once the nurse's footsteps could be heard leaving, Mulder turned 
again and came right back to his position by her head.  

Scully smiled and blinked sleepily at him, the medication was 
already taking effect.  "Mulder?" she sighed.

"Yeah, baby?" he almost crooned at her, his hand smoothing her hair 
back in a gesture she found immensely soothing.

Her lids were so heavy, but she managed to keep them open.  "Promise 
me you'll go get some rest?"  Her eyes started to slide shut, and 
she forced them wider.  "Really rest, I mean.  At home, in my..." 
she hesitated, for that hadn't sounded right, and found the words 
tthat did. "In our bed."  They sounded even better when she said 
them out loud.

She watched with bemused interest as a goofy smile crossed his 
lips.  "Our bed, I like the sound of that," he whispered.  

She mouthed, 'me too', and then he said, "I will as soon as you fall 
asleep again, I promise. Indian Guide's honor."

"'Kay," she murmured, and let her eyes finally slide shut.  

The last thing she remembered was the press of his lips on her 
forehead.

***

Walter Reed Army Medical Center
Surgical Floor, Scully's Room
Saturday
3:30 pm


Mulder walked through the hospital lobby towards the elevators.  
In one hand he carried a bouquet of flowers, a riotous mix of 
colors and scents he hoped Scully would like, in the other her 
overnight bag, and inside the inner pocket of his leather jacket 
was the result of his two hour shopping trip.  Besides missing 
Scully like hell, he was nervous and very tired.  As he pressed 
the button to summon the elevator, he ducked his head down to hide 
a yawn, and wondered how long it would take Scully to deduce he 
had not kept his promise.

He had tried to sleep, he really had.  

After Scully had drifted off, he had watched her for long moments, 
his eyes focused on her face.  On the fan of her dark lashes resting 
against cheeks just blushed with the palest of pinks, a sign her 
body was rejuvenating itself, and on the faint flicker of movement 
behind her eyelids as she slid into what was hopefully a pleasant 
dream.  

Once he had been certain she would not wake again for some time, he 
had left, and gone home to Scully's, not even questioning how easily 
he had termed it 'home' in his mind.

He had been glad Mrs. Scully had chosen to go back to her own home 
instead of staying at Scully's, for the apartment had been quiet and 
still.  His boots and coat had been shed at the door, and from there 
he had gone straight into the bedroom.  The first thing he had 
noticed was that the bed was not made, the bedclothes still thrown 
back and disheveled, as if he and Scully had just climbed from it.  

He had not been able to resist the lure to surround himself in the 
place she had last been.  The borrowed tee shirt and his jeans had 
been shucked, along with his socks and briefs, and he had climbed 
into the bed nude. His body had immediately rolled into the spot 
long ago vacated by Scully, trying to pretend it was still warm from
hers, and he had buried his head in her pillow, nostrils flaring for
a moment as he had inhaled her sweet scent.

An enormous yawn had cracked his jaws wide then, and after nuzzling 
Scully's pillow once more, he had closed his eyes to catch up on the 
sleep he desperately needed, and that Scully had wanted him to get, 
had made him promise he would get.

He had actually drifted off, his body weary and sore, his mind 
filled with thoughts of Scully.   Thoughts that had quickly turned 
to dreams.  

Dreams that had him reaching out for her, and meeting only empty 
space.

Panic had had him shooting quickly awake and upright, his heart 
pounding and his eyes searching the bedroom frantically before he 
had remembered where she was.  

The dream, and the realization that he did not want to be there 
without her, had been the end of his attempt at sleep.

A long, hot shower, a quick shave and a fresh change of clothes 
had been followed by a bowl of his secret stash of Lucky Charms, all 
he had been able to muster the will to make.  A few minutes spent 
stuffing Scully's overnight bag with her toiletries and some 
underwear and extra clothes, and then he had left.  He had gone to 
the Gunmen's first, to fill them in on all that had happened after 
he had left her building the night before, and had given them 
Scully's hospital room number once Frohike had gotten over the news
that Scully had been shot.

His next stop had been to his own apartment, to collect his mail and 
to check on his fish.  After disposing of the one floater down the 
toilet and listening to a couple phone messages, he had left to go 
to his last planned destination before heading back to the hospital.

The jewelry store.

He hadn't had a particular one in mind, in fact had had no idea 
where to go at all. He just had that lingering feeling that made him 
want to buy Scully something personal, something that would maybe 
show her how he felt.

So he had gone to Union Station, on Massachusetts Avenue, and 
wandered in and out of all kinds of stores while he fought the 
butterflies that had taken up sudden residence in his stomach, and 
the little voice in his head that had been telling him it was a bad 
idea.

An entire hour had been spent like that, until he had finally found 
his nerve, and walked into the first jewelry store he had seen.  It 
had been fairly busy, which had made it easier to wander about 
peering in all the different display cases.  He had shied from the
one that had so very obviously contained engagement rings and 
wedding bands, that was something he thought they both were not 
ready for, and had ended up looking at one that showcased rings of 
a different sort. As he had stared at them he had tried to think 
over the years if he had ever seen Scully wear a ring.  He didn't 
think he ever had.

Just as he had decided that maybe a ring wasn't the way to go, even 
if it wasn't one that screamed 'Marry me!', he had seen several 
displayed beside a small sign that had made him take a second look.  

A saleslady had come by then, and had told him a bit more about 
them.  The more he had looked at them, the more sure he had become 
that this was what he should buy for Scully.

While the saleslady had been ringing in his purchase, his eye had 
been caught by something else that he just hadn't been able to 
resist. So he had bought them both.

The elevator doors opened then, startling Mulder out of his 
reverie.  He saw a young woman with a cane moving towards the car, 
and jammed his foot inside the door to hold it open for her.  Once 
she had gotten in with a smile of thanks, he followed her inside and
pressed the button for Scully's floor.

His grip on the flowers had tightened as he walked down the hallway 
towards her room, making his fingers cramp, so he switched the 
bouquet over to the other hand, holding the bag and the flowers
together.  Her door opened when he was a few feet away, and out 
walked Skinner.

"Mulder," the AD said when he spotted him.  His eyes flicked to the 
flowers in Mulder's hand, and he quickly hid a smile.  "How's the 
head?"

"It's fine," Mulder replied, reflexively reaching up to touch the 
now unbandaged wound.  After his shower he had decided some air 
would do the injury good.  It had garnered a few strange looks
during his shopping excursion, but he was used to getting odd 
stares.

"That's good," Skinner said, and reached into his pocket to pull 
out a small, white business card, holding it out towards Mulder. 
"Listen, you need to stop by the police station and give your 
statement about last night.  They're going to arrange a time to 
come and get Scully's statement as well.  There will also be some 
loose ends to tie up at the office.  You should probably come in 
on Monday, but I'll see what I can do about postponing things a 
couple days."

Mulder nodded, he had expected no less.  Skinner had confiscated 
the weapon he had used to kill Elliot Andercott while they were 
waiting for the ambulance, as well as the one that Andercott had 
used to fire upon both he and Scully, and their other pieces, but 
the AD had also told him he would handle the police while Mulder 
went to the hospital.  "Thank-you, Sir," he replied, and hoped his 
words and his expression conveyed his measure of gratitude for all 
his help.

Apparently he had, for Skinner cracked another smile before nodding
and taking his leave.

Shifting the flowers once more and taking a deep breath, Mulder 
knocked briefly on Scully's door before pushing it open.  He found 
her propped up just slightly, with more pillows under her head, and
staring expectantly at the door, and watched her eyes light up.  

Seeing that gave him the warmest feeling, and suddenly he wasn't 
quite as nervous about the contents of his jacket pocket as he had 
been moments ago.

She was smiling as he approached her bed, and her voice, while still 
a little groggy, was filled with happiness.  "Mulder."  

"I couldn't stay away," he told her as he dropped the bag on the 
floor by the night table, and bent to kiss her on the cheek.  Only 
she moved her head just before his lips touched her, so that he 
kissed her lips instead.

"I'm glad," she said softly.  "Even though I know you didn't get 
the sleep you need."  She gave him that look, the one that dared him 
to tell her she was wrong, and then softened it by adding, "I missed 
you."

He knew his cheeks had gone red by the way her smile widened, but 
chose not to respond to her comment about his sleep, or lack 
thereof.  He instead held out the flowers, and said, "I always miss 
you when you're not with me."

"Ohhhh..." was her soft exhalation.  He knew it was for his words, 
and not the flowers.  She sniffled then and moved her eyes from 
where she had been holding his to the bouquet he held out.  
"They're beautiful, Mulder.  Thank-you."

He reached out and laid the flowers down on the little side table to 
the left of her bed and then looked from the bed to the chair pulled 
nearby.  He didn't want to sit on the chair, he wanted to sit with 
Scully.

She had seen him looking at the bed, and said, "Lower the side rail."

Smiling, he carefully moved it down before easing his hip onto the 
mattress, making sure he did not jostle the bed in any way.  His 
hand went to hers, lying atop the covers and he lifted it gently to 
lie on the knee that he had raised and now rested close to her hip.  
He played with her fingers while they stared at each other, and was 
extremely conscious of the small bulge pressing against his ribcage 
beneath his jacket.

Should he give them to her now?  It was probably a good idea, before 
he lost his nerve.  "Hey, Scully," he said.  "I, uh, got you a 
little something while I was out."  She looked at him with curiosity 
as he let go of her hand and reached inside his pocket.  His fingers 
felt the plush velvet of the little, square box, and then on further 
exploration, the longer, rectangular box.  Which one first?

"Mulder, you didn't have to buy me anything," Scully said.

"I wanted to," he told her, while trying to formulate the right 
words to tell her how he had come to buy her what was in his pocket. 
"When you found out your cross was gone, I decided to go out and buy 
you another one, only I was not going to leave you alone while I 
went out, so I put the plans aside for the time being."

"Oh, Mulder," she sighed.  "That's so...sweet."  She looked a little 
sad, and he knew she was thinking about her necklace, for he had 
never got the chance to tell her it had been found.  He wished he 
had remembered, so that she didn't have to feel sad about it, even 
if it was only for a moment, and also because he thought returning 
it now might take away the impact of his gifts for her.  Yet he 
could not hold back the news from her, not just because it might 
spoil his surprise.

"But..." he drawled.  "I found out early this morning I didn't have 
to."  Her expression changed to one of puzzlement, and he removed 
his hand from his pocket to go up and pull her necklace from under 
his shirt collar.  "Your mom gave me this for safekeeping," he told 
her.  "It's yours."

Scully blinked slowly, seeming a little stunned.  "But...how?" she 
asked.  "Where did she find it?"

"It's a long story," he said, and when she opened her mouth, 
probably to insist he tell her, he added, "A story for another time, 
please, Scully?"

"Okay," she said, chewing on her lip.  He knew she had sensed it was 
not exactly a pleasant story, and although she wanted to know how, 
she would not press him because he had asked her to wait.  She 
managed a small smile for him.  "You'll wear it for me until I come 
home."

Mulder nodded and tucked it back against his skin. "So," he said. 
"Has the doctor been it yet?"  

He had decided the hospital wasn't the right place to give her his 
gifts.  He would do it at her apartment, when he brought her home.  
Besides, she wouldn't be able to wear them anyway, not now.

Scully nodded, a little carefully he noted.  "Just before Skinner 
came."  She paused and took a slow, deep breath before continuing. 
"He took a look at the two sites, and said there's no sign of 
infection, that everything looks clear.  He's still estimating my 
stay here at a couple days, but I'm hoping that might get 
shortened." She then yawned, grimacing slightly, and smiled 
sheepishly at him. "Getting tired again, and the damn meds are 
sneaking up on me."

"I think that's to be expected," Mulder said, and picked her hand 
back up to rest on his knee again.  He played his thumb over her 
knuckles.  "You close your eyes if you want.  I'm just going to sit 
here for a while."  And watch you, he added silently, as her eyes 
drifted from his face to her hand in his, before starting to slide 
shut.

"But you just got here," she said, forcing her eyes open, and yawned 
again.  Her lids started to close once more, and she fluttered them 
open to look at him with a small pout.

"Scully, you need your rest.  Especially if you want to get out of 
here early."  He added that last one as an enticement for her to go 
to sleep. 

"I know," she sighed, and then cranked her eyes open yet again.  
"You need your rest too," she said, and tried to pin him with a 
glare.  It was ruined by another yawn.

Actually, rest sounded good.  But not in her empty apartment that 
seemed lonely without her there.  "Tell you what.  You go to sleep,
and I will too.  Right in that chair there."  He indicated the one 
near her bed.  Getting up carefully, he pulled it closer to the bed 
and arranged it sideways and sat down, so that his long legs lay 
parallel to her bed, his feet level with her head.  That way he 
could 
stare at her until he fell asleep, and still hold her hand.

"Deal," she murmured, and let her eyes stay shut.

"Deal," he whispered back, and laid his fingers on top of hers, his 
right arm resting along the mattress.  Her hand twitched slightly, 
but that was the only reaction.  He let his head fall to the right 
shoulder, keeping his eyes on her face.

The soft sounds of her breathing lulled him to sleep.

***

end Part 27 of 29

Revenge Part 28 of 29
by Lovesfox



Skinner's Office
J. Edgar Hoover Building
Monday
11:40 am


Skinner heard Mulder's voice out in the outer office, talking to 
Kimberley, and pushed the report he had been reading aside.  
Removing his glasses and laying them atop the file, he stood up and 
walked out to greet the agent, needing to get up and stretch a bit.

Mulder was surprisingly dressed in a suit and tie, and Skinner 
guessed the surprise must have shown on his face, for the agent 
shrugged his shoulders and gave him a wry, twisting grin.  "I went 
to give my statement," he explained.  "Had to give a good 
impression."

Skinner felt his lips quirk in response, not quite a smile.  "Come 
on in," he said, and headed back into his office.  

A moment later Mulder followed, and took his customary chair in 
front of the desk.  

Skinner sank back down into his leather chair, feeling the pull in 
his calf muscles as he used his legs to bring the chair close to the 
desk once more. Time to get back in the routine of going to the gym 
on a regular basis, something he had intended to do, and not yet 
gotten around to.  

"How's Scully doing?" he asked, both out of politeness and a genuine 
concern.  He had not yet been able to get back to the hospital to 
see her after his brief visit Saturday afternoon.  He had spent most 
of Sunday here in the office going over all the reports from the 
shooting at the warehouse, preparing everything for the meeting he 
had had with his superiors earlier in the morning.  He had also had 
dinner at Allison's apartment.

"Going stir crazy," was Mulder's humorous reply.  "She's been trying 
to convince the doctor to let her go home today, but he's sticking 
to his guns.  No earlier than 9 am tomorrow."

They shared a smile, for Scully's dislike for hospital stays was 
well known by the two of them, and then Skinner got back to 
business.  "Your statement went well?"

"Took a little longer than I expected, but yeah, it went fine," was 
Mulder's reply.  "I suppose I need to give one for the Bureau file?"

Skinner nodded, rubbing his hand over his chin.  "There will be a 
meeting with OPR as well, I just found out this morning it's 
scheduled for this Friday.  They want to hear Scully's report of the 
shooting as well."

Mulder frowned slightly, but said nothing, merely nodded his 
acceptance.  "How does it look?" he asked quietly.

"It definitely helps that both Agent Andrews and myself heard 
Andercott threaten to kill you.  It's also been pretty much agreed 
upon that he fired first, and though we did not hear the gunshot 
that injured you, we did hear the two shots that hit Agent Scully.  
I'm sure that Agent Scully's report will reflect that he did indeed 
fire that first shot.  All the ballistics tests validate your story, 
there were no shots fired from any other weapons than the one 
possessed by Andercott, and the weapon used by you to kill him, 
which as also witnessed by Andrews and myself, was after he had 
shot Scully and threatened to kill you."

Skinner stopped for a second, the fingers of one hand playing with 
the wire rim of his glasses lying on the blotter before him.  "As 
for the...excessive use of a firearm," and here he was referring to 
the fact that Mulder had emptied a clip into the man, and by the 
grimace on Mulder's face, he knew the agent was very aware of that, 
"I'm sure that it will be understood that it was a very explosive 
and dangerous situation.  You were in fear for your life and that 
of your partner's, and..."

"I wanted to kill him," Mulder stated baldly, his eyes like flint.  
His face was a wooden mask.

One that Skinner was fairly certain he could still easily read.

"And that was entirely off the record," Skinner added smoothly, 
dipping his chin slightly, his own eyes conveying a warning.  

Fortunately Mulder took it, and said no more. 

The admission had not surprised Skinner in the least.  He himself 
was glad the sick bastard was dead.  He was more thankful however 
that Mulder would not be censored in any way for having killed him. 

"Anyway," he continued.  "I think OPR will merely be a formality, 
although I am sure you'll be required to see Karen Kosseff, as will 
Agent Scully."  He tried to lighten the almost uncomfortable 
situation with a small smile and said, "Not exactly how we had 
planned to have Scully go back to her, was it?"

Mulder blinked, and then his features relaxed completely, regaining 
life and warmth.  "Not exactly, no sir," he replied, and smiled 
too.   He stood then, and said, "Well, I promised Scully I'd bring 
her something decent for lunch.  Hospital food, you know."

Skinner nodded in understanding and commiseration, and stood, hands 
going to his hips.  "Say hello to Scully for me, would you?  I'll 
try and drop by the hospital tonight to see her in person."

"I will, Sir," Mulder replied, and headed for the door.  

Skinner watched him go, and saw him slow at the door, and then stop 
completely.  

Mulder looked back over his shoulder and quietly said, "Thank-you, 
sir."

Skinner twisted his lips slightly and nodded once more, silently 
telling Mulder no thank-you was necessary.  Seconds later Mulder was 
gone from the doorway and he was listening to the agent say goodbye 
to Kimberley.  With a sigh of regret that he had not been able to 
show more of his personal thoughts about the entire situation to 
Mulder, Skinner re-took his seat and donned his glasses once more 
in preparation for battling his never-ending stack of reports.

***

Scully's Apartment
Georgetown, D.C.
Tuesday
10:15 am


Home at last.  Thank God Almighty, she was home at last.  

Scully giggled to herself at her painkiller induced parodic 
interpretation of the old Negro spiritual about their freedom from 
slavery and wobbled slightly as she waited for Mulder to finish 
turning the key in the lock.  She sobered quickly though, not 
having meant in any way to belittle the momentous struggle for 
emancipation, and shuffled through her now opened door into her 
apartment.  

Mulder was thankfully busy with her overnight bag and the largest of 
the flower arrangements she had received while in the hospital, the 
one that had arrived with a card that had read 'Love Frohike' in 
large letters, with the names Langly and Byers squeezed in messily 
beneath.  He hadn't caught her momentary lag in the hallway.

Scully carefully eased down onto her sofa with a contented sigh, 
hiding a grimace from the flare of pain that resulted when her 
injured arm hit the arrangement of pillows a little too hard.  

Mulder had quickly hastened after her, dropping the bag with a 
heavy thud, the flowers mysteriously gone as well, and was now 
hovering above her like...

There was a sharp inhalation of breath coming from near the kitchen, 
followed by her mother's voice. Mulder had not seen the grimace, but 
her mother apparently had.  "Dana, honey, why didn't you let Fox 
help you?  You don't have to do everything yourself."

...an anxious mother.

Just what she needed, two of them.  She loved them both, dearly, but 
combined they were sometimes overwhelming.  And she'd yet to be home 
five minutes. 

"I'm fine, Mom," she said without a hint of her exasperation and 
offered her a sincere smile.  She was fine; the twinge had been just 
that, a twinge, already forgotten.  Probably one of many she would 
have to endure while she healed.  After a second, her mother nodded 
and returned to the kitchen.  Scully yawned, and peering down at her 
feet, struggled to toe off her running shoes.  Before she had even 
thought of asking for assistance, Mulder was on his knees, pulling 
her feet onto his lap, his fingers quickly undoing her laces and 
then tugging each shoe off.  

He looked up and said, "Do you want to put your feet up on the 
couch?"  At her nod, he circled her ankles with his hands and swung 
her legs up and onto the couch, keeping his eyes on her face for any 
sign of distress.

But the half-dose of painkillers she had taken before leaving the 
hospital had her fully in grasp now, and she was floating nicely. 
She had also been admiring the play of muscles in his forearms as he 
had shifted her legs from the floor to the sofa.  She smiled a 
little muzzily at him, still on his knees beside her, and murmured, 
"Thanks."

"That's what I'm here for, Scully.  I'm at your beck and call, okay?"

A line from a movie, or maybe it was a book, she couldn't remember, 
flitted into her head and made her giggle again.  Definitely feeling 
the effects of the meds.  At his quirked eyebrow, she said, "I've 
never had a beck and call boy before, Mulder.  I think I like it."  
The words were breathy, from the sleepiness that was overtaking her,
but sounded sexy instead.

The look on his face was priceless.  Eyes wide as saucers, eyebrows 
up to his hairline, mouth open.  With that pouty lower lip just 
begging to be sucked.  Scully blinked her heavy eyes.  Had she 
discovered a new aphrodisiac?  She didn't remember feeling like 
this with all the other doses of painkillers.  So...horny.  True 
she had been getting far more sex over the last week than she'd had 
in months.  Okay, years.  Maybe she was just missing Mulder.  

Or she was getting her period.  Scully closed her eyes and tried 
to count backwards.  Her fogged brain made it difficult, but she 
managed.  Yep.  She was definitely due in a few days, and was 
experiencing one of the few quirky little benefits to ovulation, 
in her case anyway, which was an increased appetite for sexual 
satiation.  

Damn.  

Her arm was certainly going to make it tricky, if she could convince 
Mulder to go for it, that is.  He had been treating her like a 
hothouse flower ever since he helped her from the wheelchair into 
his car, and she had barely been able to talk him out of carrying 
her into her apartment, having had to use the excuse it would 
probably hurt more because of the jostling than if she walked 
herself.

At Mulder's loud exhalation, she opened her eyes again to see him 
still regarding her open-mouthed, and his eyes slightly dilated.  
The sight made her smile and murmur, "Cat got your tongue, Mulder?"

Whatever he had been about to say was interrupted by her mother, who 
came out of the kitchen baring the laden tea tray.  Mulder scrambled 
to his feet, kicking her running shoes out of the way, and came 
around the coffee table to take the tray from her and place it on 
the wooden surface.

Scully watched through half-closed eyes as her mother poured tea for 
the three of them.  She knew she was not going to stay awake long 
enough to drink it, but could not summon the energy to tell her 
mother not to bother with a cup for her.  

She closed her eyes for just a moment, and when she opened them 
again, she just knew hours had passed.  

The tea tray and its contents were gone, the shadows stretched 
farther across the floor, and there was no sign of Mulder or her 
mother.  She moved carefully on the sofa, trying to shift herself 
and relieve the ache in her back from lying in the same position 
ffor so long, and seconds later, heard Mulder approaching.

His hand stroked through her hair, and then he was kneeling on the 
floor once more, leaning over to press a kiss on her cheek.  "Hey, 
sleepyhead," he said.  "How are you feeling?"

"Mmmm..." she said, and took mental stock of her body.  The 
slightest of aches in her shoulder, but a tolerable ache, one she 
could handle.  The sling was going to have to go though.  It was 
chafing her neck. Her throat was dry, and her stomach was vaguely 
protesting its emptiness.  

"Good.  Thirsty.  Hungry."  She smiled at him, and remembered 
their earlier, brief conversation.  "I'm calling, boy."

Mulder was silent for a minute, before taking a deep breath and 
giving her that look, the one that said she had impressed him with 
her little comment.  His voice was just slightly husky when he 
playfully said, "Yes, mistress."  

His reply sent a pleasant tingle through her entire body.  Oh, now 
that was a fantasy she wouldn't mind carrying out.  Damn, there she 
went again.  She had better stop thinking about things like that, or 
she was going to hurt herself trying to jump him.

He gave her hair one last caress before rising and heading to the 
kitchen.  She watched him go, staring at his jean-clad butt.  She 
listened to the sounds of him in her kitchen, heard him opening and 
closing cupboards, and the whirring of her microwave, and slowly the 
savory aroma of her mother's chicken soup drifted out from the 
kitchen.  

Ah, heavenly.  There was nothing like mom comfort food.

She closed her eyes to await his return, and actually dozed for a 
bit, awakening to the sound of the tray being placed on the coffee 
table.   Mulder came around and asked, "Do you want to sit up a bit 
more?"

"Please," she said, and together they shifted her about on the 
pillows until she was half-sitting, half-reclining, her arm in its 
sling resting on a pillow draped across her stomach, and supported 
by the back of the couch behind her.  Scully used her other hand to 
quickly adjust the sling against her neck, her cool fingers 
momentarily soothing the irritated skin.  Mulder waited for her to 
move her arm back down and then lifted the tray from the table and 
put it carefully on her lap, sitting on the floor to help keep it 
steady.

Besides the bowl of soup, there was a glass of what looked like 
apple juice, a plate with some cheese and crackers, and one single 
yellow rose in a tiny vase.  "Oh," she said.  The man was a 
sweetheart, and a bit of a romantic it seemed.  "Thank-you, Mulder.  
That's so sweet."

"I do try," he said modestly, and smiled at her.  He then filched 
some of her cheese, and used it to indicate the soup.  "Your mom 
made that yesterday for us.  She left after her tea, and said she'd 
call you later on and see how you're feeling."  That said, he popped 
the cheese in his mouth and downed it, before asking,  "You mind if 
I flick on the TV?"  At her negative shake, he grabbed the converter 
and aimed it at the set, turning it on.  It was on the sports 
channel, and he was immediately engrossed in their sports update.

Scully watched him as she ate all her soup and most of the remaining 
cheese and crackers, and drank all her juice.  She loved seeing the 
myriad expressions that crossed his face, and hearing the occasional 
groans and comments he mumbled to himself as he learned the scores 
of various games that had been played in the last day.  She had 
missed this closeness, craved it actually, while she had been in the 
hospital.  

True Mulder had been there as much as he could, and had even snuck 
back the first night after visiting hours were over to stay longer, 
but it hadn't been the same.  She wished she had a free hand, so she 
could play with the hairs at the nape of his neck, just inches away 
from her, and sighed softly.

Not softly enough.  Mulder caught it, and turned his head quickly.  
"You okay, Scully?"

How to answer?  She went with the truth.  "I'm okay, Mulder.  Just 
wishing I could touch you."

He looked inordinately pleased as they stared into each other's eyes 
for a moment, and then smiling, he shifted his gaze to the tray.  
"Are you all finished?"  At her nod, he lifted it easily and 
carefully, shifting to put it on the coffee table again.  When that
was done, he scooted over on the floor until he was much closer to 
her.  

This allowed her to sift her fingers through his hair without 
straining, and she did so happily.

They sat that way for quite some time, with Mulder occasionally 
rolling his head so that her fingers touched more of his scalp, and 
whenever her nails happened to gently scratch at the skin of his 
neck, he would shiver or give a low groan.  But her hand grew tired, 
and she had a pressing need to use the facilities, so she 
regretfully stopped with a squeeze of the shoulder closest to her. 

"Mulder, can you help me up?  I need to go to the washroom."

At her words, he was up in a flash and helping her stand.  Once he 
was sure she was steady, he let go, and they headed down the hall, 
Scully conscious of his warm body close to hers, knowing he was 
ready to grab her in an instant if she faltered.  After she entered 
the bathroom, he stood in the doorway to ask, "Do you need me to 
help you?"

It was awkward doing things with one hand, but she had managed for 
the last day and a half while in the hospital.  And as much as she 
relished the fact that she was home with him again, this was 
something she really didn't need him to witness, or assist.  "I'll 
be okay, Mulder.  I'll call when I'm done, or if I need help."

"Okay," he replied.  "I'll wait in your bedroom."  With that, he 
pulled the door most of the way closed, leaving it cracked about an 
inch.

Scully did her business, managed to wash her one hand, and brush her 
hair into some semblance of order, all without irritating her 
shoulder, for which she was thankful.  She hoped to lengthen the 
time between the pain medication doses, because she did not want to 
sleep so much during the daytime, and it was easier to do that when 
the pain was minimal.  As long as she was careful and did not jostle 
it, she would be able to use the medication in moderation.

She pulled the door open and said Mulder's name softly.  His
footsteps sounded a second later, not coming from the bedroom, but 
rather from the direction of the living room.  

"Everything okay?" he asked, and at her nod, waited for her to pass 
him so he could follow her back to the couch.  "How do you want to 
sit?" he asked, and for some reason he seemed fidgety to her.

"Like I was when I was eating is fine," she replied, and with his 
help, eased herself back down onto the sofa and into her nest of 
pillows.  Instead of sitting on the floor, Mulder lifted her legs 
and carefully sat down, his hip just touching her upper thighs, and 
placed her lower legs over his lap.  

"This okay?" he asked.  "You're not uncomfortable, are you?"

She could feel the warmth of his hand on her calf through the 
material of her sweat pants, gently stroking up and down.  "It's 
just fine, Mulder."

He smiled, and they remained sitting and looking at each other for 
long moments.  

She saw him flick a glance to the pillow beside him, and then 
begin nibbling on his lip.  He didn't look uncomfortable, was in 
fact slouching in his normal couch potato position, but maybe he 
wanted the pillow for his neck, and didn't want to disturb her to 
get it. 

"What's wrong Mulder?" she asked.   "Is your neck sore or 
something?"

"Huh?" he asked, whipping his head back to look at her with 
puzzlement.

"You were staring at the pillow," she said each word distinctly, 
feeling like she was talking to her little nephew.   "Do you need 
it for your neck?"

"Uh..." he said, and flicked another glance towards the pillow in 
question, briefly gnawing on his lip again.

She was just about to say something when he seemed to reach a 
decision.  He looked at her almost shyly, and then leaned over 
and stuck his hand under the pillow.  What was he doing?

"Um, Scully..." he said.  "Do you remember me telling you I got 
you something the other day?"

Scully felt a nervous little flutter in the pit of her stomach.  
"Yes..." she answered slowly.  "And then you showed me my cross, 
which I thought I'd lost."

"Yeah," he said.  "Well...I wasn't talking about your cross.  I 
just got nervous and used it as an excuse.  I really did get you 
something."

He was acting really odd, hesitant and kind of hopeful.  

The nervous feeling intensified, and a slight hint of excitement 
began to war with it.  She didn't know if Mulder knew this or not, 
but she loved getting presents.  And each and every time he had 
gotten her one, even if it was a silly gag gift, she had been 
secretly and utterly thrilled.  She still had her Superstars of 
the Superbowls tape, despite the fact that Bill had tried to steal 
it a couple times, and had even watched it, because it had been 
from Mulder.

Mulder was fidgeting with whatever was under the pillow, still 
biting his lip and regarding her with those puppy dog eyes.  

Her eyes flicked from his face to the pillow and back again, and 
she found herself biting her own lip, in nervousness and 
anticipation.  

"Mulder..." she said after the heavy silence continued to grow, and 
cringed inwardly at the slight whiny sound to it.

At that, he finally pulled his hand out from underneath the pillow.  
Her eyes immediately went to his hands, and she had to suck in her 
breath when she regarded the small velvet box he now held.  Her 
heart started to pound.  

Was it...?  

Oh, God, they had never talked about marriage since they had 
become...lovers.  They hadn't even discussed what they were going 
to do about living arrangements after it was no longer necessary 
for him to stay with her because of Elliot Andercott.  

It was something she had been afraid to bring up, and with her 
just getting home from the hospital, they really hadn't discussed 
anything at all.  Like why he hadn't taken her as back-up when he 
had gotten the call...

Scully told herself to stop her mental babbling, she was going to 
start hyperventilating soon.  And it might not even be what she 
was thinking it was.  Oh, God, he wouldn't have, would he?

There she went again.  Stop it.

Fortunately Mulder spoke again, and saved her from herself.  And 
also surprised her with how much his words mirrored her thoughts. 
Though she told herself, she really shouldn't be surprised, they 
had almost always been on the same wavelength, for years.  With 
the occasional total misunderstanding, of course. 

"Scully...I know we've never really talked about...well, this thing 
between us.  Not seriously anyway."  He paused, and his swallow was 
noisy, a sure sign of his nervousness.  For some reason, it calmed 
her, and she began to breathe again.  "I love you, and I know you 
love me, and I wanted to get you something to show you how I felt.  
So that you would always have a reminder of it, and of me, 
especially if I wasn't there."  

He shifted his hips slightly then, so he was facing her better, and 
she watched as he held out the little box, with just the smallest 
of tremors.  "Not that I won't be here," he added hastily, 
swallowing noisily again.

Her own hand was shaky as she reached up to take it, and they both 
seemed to realize at the same time that she wouldn't be able to open 
it on her own.  With a sheepish smile, he leaned forward even more 
and put it into her palm, so that their fingers cradled it 
together.  He then brought his other hand up and lifted the lid. 
"It's a..."

Scully sucked in her breath at what was revealed.

And they both said it together, "Claddagh ring."

***

1:50 pm

Mulder had long ago cleaned up the remains of the tea and sandwiches 
Mrs. Scully had fixed for them, and even walked her down to her car 
as Scully had slumbered on.  Not wanting to disturb her with the 
television, he had headed to her room and tidied up there too.  
While she had been in the hospital, he hadn't been quite as diligent 
in cleaning up after himself, and thankfully she had fallen asleep 
and given him the opportunity to rectify the matter.

He had just finished putting away the contents of Scully's overnight 
bag, dumping the dirty clothes in the hamper and taking the 
toiletries back to their proper places in the bathroom, and was 
feeling a little restless.  

His gaze kept wandering over to his underwear drawer, the one that 
was currently housing the two velvet boxes he had yet to give 
Scully.  He was just about to go and take them out, to look at them 
yet again and see if they bolstered his courage any when he heard 
the slightest of sounds coming from the living room.  

Sounds that meant Scully was awake. He flicked a glance at her alarm 
clock on her night table, and saw that she had been sleeping for 
just over three hours.  The painkillers had certainly kicked in as 
she hadwarned them they would on the drive home from the hospital.

Feeling desperate to see her, despite the fact he had watched her 
sleep for a while, because now he would be able to talk to her and 
to touch her, he headed down the hall to be her 'beck and call boy', 
smiling faintly to himself at the term.  

Woo, had that one knocked him for a loop.  

Especially spoken in that husky, just about to fall asleep, totally 
bedroom voice he'd lately had the incredible pleasure of hearing on 
a pretty regular basis.

She was shifting about on the couch when he entered the living room, 
and he slid his hand over her hair before going to his knees to kiss 
her on the cheek and ask her how she was feeling.  The sleepy 
huskiness of her voice was endearing as she replied, until she said, 
"I'm calling, boy."

Then it became downright sexy.  

His pulse leapt.  

Oh, he was a sick man for wanting to jump her while she was injured, 
he thought to himself, after spending a delicious few seconds 
planning a way to keep her shoulder from harm's way while they did 
the wild thing on her couch. The thought didn't stop him from 
responding with a teasing, "Yes, mistress," after taking a deep 
breath to slow his heart rate.

Of course watching her eyes darken in response to his reply did 
incredible things to his ego, and the hungry beast behind his 
zipper.  

On that note, he decided it was time to remove himself to the safety 
of the kitchen.  He ran his fingers through her hair once more and 
went to fix her a late lunch.  

While the soup her mother had made warmed in the microwave, he 
readied the tray, plucking a yellow rose from one of the bouquets 
she had received, but not the one from dear brother Bill, that was 
just...not right, and putting it in a tiny bud vase he had 
discovered in the one of her cabinets while looking for a place 
to hide his Lucky Charms. 

Once everything was organized, he carried the tray over to the 
coffee table, seeing that she seemed to have dozed off again.  Her 
eyes opened though when he put the tray down, and together they got 
her arranged on the pillows and the tray on her lap.  He was pleased 
at her response to the rose, and after swiping a piece of the cheese 
he had cut up for her, told her that her mother would call later.  
He then asked if she minded if he watched TV, which she didn't, and 
settled in to catch up on some sports.

Even though he was engrossed in the program, he was very aware of 
her lying just behind him.  He was on the floor propped against the 
couch, and he knew if he tilted his head back, he would encounter 
her thigh.  

Her firm, smooth...Whoa!  Them be dangerous thoughts.  Think 
basketball instead, my man.

When Scully sighed, he turned to her in concern, and was relieved,
and buoyed beyond belief at her explanation about wishing she could 
touch him.  After confirming she was finished, he lifted the tray 
out of the way and then moved over a bit on the floor quickly and 
happily, nearly moaning at the feel of her hands in his hair.  

Mulder thought he might actually have been able to doze off, was 
not even sure how much time had passed, when Scully squeezed his 
shoulder and said she needed to go to the bathroom.  He helped her 
up from the couch, feeling relaxed and loose, and then stepped back 
to let her make her own way, staying close just in case, and 
followed her as she shuffled down the hallway.  

He wasn't sure if she needed his help in there or not, or even if 
she would accept it, for she was still very private about some 
things, and was not surprised or hurt when she declined his help 
with a gentle explanation.  He told her he'd wait in her bedroom, 
and found himself once again sitting on her bed and contemplating 
that same drawer.

Remembering the reaction the rose in the vase had gotten, and how 
good it had made him feel, he took a fortifying breath and got up 
from his perch to take the velvet boxes from their hiding spot and 
sneak them out to the living room.  

It didn't mean he had to give them to her right away, just that they 
would be closer if he decided to.  

In the living room, he turned in circles a few times, trying to find 
a spot to tuck them away, and hearing the water in the bathroom turn 
off, knew he didn't have much time.  He stuffed the two little boxes 
under the throw pillow at the opposite end of the couch from where 
Scully had been propped, and heard her call his name.

He hastened back down the hall, to where Scully was standing outside 
the bathroom, and asked her if everything was okay.  She gave an 
affirming nod, and started her slow, careful walk back to the 
couch.  He was again at her back, at the ready if she needed 
assistance.  

He could not help glancing at the pillow he had tucked the gifts 
under, but as he was behind Scully, she did not notice.  

Once they got her resettled on the couch, like she had been sitting 
to eat her lunch, he joined her on the couch instead of resuming 
his spot on the floor.  He scooted closer to her, his side bumping 
her thigh gently, and lifted her legs to lay them across his lap.  
He inquired as to whether she was okay, and that she was 
comfortable, and then began to rub her calf.

Scully said, "It's just fine, Mulder," and he could only stare at 
her and smile, wondering if he looked as goofy as he felt.  Or if 
his nervousness showed.  Worried he would blurt it out before he 
was prepared; he finally had to look away, unconsciously gnawing at 
his lip, his eyes flicking to the pillow that hid his secret and 
away again.

Her next words startled him. "What's wrong Mulder?" she asked.   
"Is your neck sore or something?"

"Huh?" he said.  Way to dazzle her with a brilliant Oxford graduate 
response, he told himself, and turned his head to look at her, 
seeing her blue eyes regarding him seriously.

"You were staring at the pillow," she replied, speaking slowly as if 
to a child.  He felt like one.  "Do you need it for your neck?"

"Uh..." he managed.  Jeez, where did all his intellect go?  It had 
been sucked right into the beauty of her eyes.  He had to look away 
from her, and ended up shooting another glance at the pillow while 
biting his lip yet again.

What the hell was he waiting for?  The perfect moment?  What exactly 
defined a perfect moment?  To him, a perfect moment was any time 
spent with Scully.  

Like now.

Mulder looked at Scully again, a tense, achy feeling low in his 
belly, and decided to bite the bullet.  Slanting his body to the 
side a bit, he stretched his arm out and groped under the pillow.  
The ring should be first, so he found the small, square box and 
grasped it tightly.

"Um, Scully..." he said,  "Do you remember me telling you I got you 
something the other day?"  He was surprised at how calm he sounded, 
amazed he had a voice at all.

Mulder could see curiosity and confusion in her eyes, and her reply 
about her cross was a little hesitant.  "Yeah," he continued, gaining
a little more confidence.  "Well...I wasn't talking about your 
cross.  I just got nervous and used it as an excuse.  I really did 
get you something."

Scully's eye widened, and he could see excitement warring with the 
confusion now.  There was a faint hint of color in her cheeks, and 
she seemed to be sitting up just a little bit straighter.  

He watched her eyes leave his face and look at the pillow, as if she 
were trying to sneak a peek at what might be under it, and then come 
back to his face.  He had a feeling that if she were not hampered by 
her injured shoulder, she'd be trying to climb over him and get at 
the pillow herself.  It made him smile, and the ache in his belly
disappeared, to be replaced with a feeling of serenity, or 
tranquility.  This was the right moment.

Wanting to enjoy it as much as possible, he decided to tease her a 
little.  So he played with the pillow some more, and gave her his 
puppy dog eyes, the ones he knew made her melt.  He sucked in his 
lower lip and saw her eyes flick down to watch the motion.  

She then bit her own lip, and after a few seconds, said his name in 
this pleading, kind of whining tone that almost made him want to 
smile.  

Instead, he brought his hand and the small velvet box out.  

Her breath was an audible gasp.

"Scully..." he said slowly, thinking of the words he wanted to say.  
"I know we've never really talked about...well, this thing between 
us.  Not seriously anyway."  

His mouth was suddenly dry, and he had to swallow, the sound loud in 
the quiet of the room.  He could even hear his own heartbeat, a 
steady thud in his ear.  

Okay, so he wasn't as calm as he had thought he was.  

It almost felt like he was proposing to her, which he supposed in 
his own, weird way, their way, he was.   They had never talked 
about commitment, and where their relationship was headed, or even 
what their living arrangements were going to be like after Elliot 
Andercott, and while he knew they weren't ready for marriage, and 
maybe never would be, he also knew he wanted her to know he was 
declaring himself to her, declaring himself hers.  

"I love you, and I know you love me, and I wanted to get you 
something to show you how I felt.  So that you would always have 
a reminder of it, and of me, especially if I wasn't there."  

Mulder turned his body carefully, so that he was facing her 
directly, and held the little velvet box, seeing that his hand 
was actually shaking slightly.  His last sentence registered, 
and its implication that he might not be there, and he hastened 
to add, "Not that I won't be here."  

Hoping she understood that he meant 'here' as anywhere she was.

Scully's hand shook as well when she lifted it to take the box, 
and just as it clicked in his slow-witted brain that there was 
no way she could open it one-handed, her lips quirked in a tiny 
acknowledgement of that fact.  

He smiled with chagrin and leaned closer to her to rest the box on 
the palm of her hand, keeping his fingers there in support, and 
because he craved the contact.  He used his other hand to open it, 
nerves striking again, and began to explain it to her, "It's a..."

She made that gasping sound again, and spoke the words with him. 
"Claddagh ring."

They smiled at each other, and Mulder watched as her eyes grew big 
and shiny.  "It's beautiful, Mulder.  So very beautiful."

"Like you," he whispered, and watched her cheeks bloom with color.  

Her hand moved within his, until he was the one holding the opened 
box, and then her index finger traced the air just above it lightly,
as if she were stroking the gold circlet.  

"Do you know the legend?" he asked, and his voice was husky.

Scully's was too when she replied, "Yes, but I want you to tell me 
it."

Mulder let his hand with the box lower until it was resting on her 
lap, and her hand came down to rest upon both his and the box.  She 
seemed torn between wanting to keep her eyes on his face, and on the 
ring.  

"Well, the lady at the jewelry store told me a little, but I went on 
the Internet to learn more."  He shifted his hand slightly, so that 
he could run his thumb over her knuckles.  "It was the name Claddagh 
that caught me in the first place.  I knew it was Irish, so I asked 
her what it meant, and she told me it was the name of a fishing 
village in Galway, Ireland.  She also said that it was used as a 
symbol for friendship, love and loyalty, and that there were many 
legends as to how it came about.  I was sold when she said those 
three words, Scully.  Friendship, love and loyalty.  For they 
symbolize everything that you are to me."  

"Oh, Mulder..." Scully sniffled, and her fingers were gripping his 
tightly now, the box lying on her lap.  "As you are to me."

He lifted his other hand, and stroked it softly down her cheek.  
Before he could move it away, she turned her head and kissed his 
palm.  

It sent a shiver of heat down his spine, and he had to clear his 
throat in order to speak again.  

"There was one legend I liked the best.  It's about a man from 
Claddagh who was kidnapped by slave traders just before he was to 
marry his sweetheart.  He designed it for her, with the crown 
signifying loyalty, the hands signifying the hands of 
friendship, and the heart signifying love.  When he finally was 
released from his slavery, he returned to Galway to learn his 
sweetheart had never married, and presented it to her."

"I like that one the best too," she whispered.  She tilted her head 
a little to the side and looked at him, her eyes luminous and the 
most incredible shade of blue, as if she were waiting for him to 
say more.  

When he didn't, she said a little hesitantly, "There's more to the 
legend though."

Of course there was, he had just gotten a little nervous again, 
even with her reaction and her avowal that he was also to her what 
those three words symbolized.  He cleared his throat before 
beginning again.  

"Yes, there is.  It's about how the ring is worn.  If worn on the 
right hand, with the crown facing outwards, it shows that the 
wearer's heart has not yet been won.  If worn on the right hand, 
with the crown facing inwards, it shows that love is being 
considered."  

He paused, the hand holding hers suddenly damp, and his heart 
thumping loudly, before finishing with, "If worn on the left hand, 
with the crown facing inwards, it means two loves have joined 
forever."

Scully's hand was trembling a little beneath his, but her voice 
sounded clear and strong when she said, "Take the ring out, Mulder."

His fingers felt huge and clumsy, but he managed to lift the small 
circle of gold from the little slot in the satin that lined the box, 
staring at it the whole time, afraid he would drop it.  Suddenly her 
hand was grasping his hand, the one that held the ring, and she was 
moving it to her other hand, her injured hand, holy shit, her LEFT 
hand, which was lying in the sling's hold against her midriff.

"Put the ring on."  No hesitation, no hitch.

He had to use his other hand to lift her hand gently, terrified he 
would hurt her, and brought the ring to the fourth finger of her 
left hand.  Here he stopped, until he heard her voice again, guiding 
him.

"Crown facing in, Mulder."

He pushed the ring onto her finger, easing it over her knuckle, and 
saw that it was a perfect fit.

She spoke again, and after the first word, he said the rest with her.

"Two loves have joined forever."

***

end Part 28 of 29


Revenge Part 29 of 29
by Lovesfox



Scully's Apartment
Georgetown, D.C.
Tuesday
2:15 pm


Scully watched as Mulder's fingers, fingers that had caressed and 
stroked and teased every inch of her body, eased the Claddagh ring 
from its satin enclosure.  She flicked a glance up at his face, and 
saw that his eyes were focused on the ring, and that he had sucked 
his lower lip in between his teeth, a sure sign of nervousness.  

Once he had removed the ring, she gently grasped his hand and 
brought it to just below her breasts, where her left hand rested.  
She had forgotten to take the sling off, and made a mental note to 
do so later.  With all the butterflies in her stomach she was 
surprised her voice remained so calm and even as she gave him her 
next instruction.  

"Put the ring on."

His touch was tentative and so gentle as he lifted her hand up from 
her stomach with his free hand, using his elbow to support his 
weight against the back of the couch, while bringing the ring ever 
closer to her fourth finger.  

He stopped, and she sensed his uncertainty.

It left her with a pang in her heart.  Oh, Mulder, how can you still 
doubt how much I love you?  She once again silently cursed the 
coldness of his parents and the women in his past who had damaged 
him so, and then said, "Crown facing inwards."  There was no trace 
of her hurt - hurt for him, and for his doubt.

But his hand was steady when he slid the ring onto her finger, 
guiding it gently over her knuckle so it wouldn't scrape.  She was 
not surprised to see that it was a perfect fit, that Mulder had 
known the exact size to buy.  She started to speak, with Mulder 
joining her after the first word.

"Two loves have joined forever."

There were no wedding bells, no friends or family surrounding them, 
no priest before them to bless their union, but she felt as if a 
ceremony had just been performed.  All that was required now was a 
kiss, as one last seal for their pledge.

Scully raised her eyes from the glimmering band of gold around her 
finger, to see that Mulder had raised his head to look at her.  
Their gazes met, locked.  She murmured, "Kiss me, Mulder."

And watched as his head slowly descended towards hers.  His eyes 
slipped shut as he let instinct guide him home, but she left hers 
open to the very last second, until his lips brushed hers as 
delicately as a butterfly's wings.  Shivers tingled along her spine 
at the contact, and then her eyes fluttered shut, her mouth opening 
in supplication for his tongue.

He accepted the invitation, swooping his tongue inside her mouth 
to mate and duel with hers, sending a rush of heat straight to her 
groin.  

Her injury was completely forgotten as she lifted her other arm to 
cup the back of his neck, her fingers playing in his hair as she had 
earlier.  He moaned into her mouth, and slanted his head further to 
the side, deepening and intensifying their kiss, while at the same 
time he brought his own hands up to fist into her hair.  His body 
leaned even further into hers, and his groin was now pressing into 
her thigh.  She shifted slightly so that she turned onto her left 
hip curving her body towards him, trying to straighten her legs, 
which had been curled up on his lap. 

Their positions were awkward, and a little uncomfortable, and 
finally Mulder pulled away, mumbling, "Are you okay, Scully?"

She slid her hand from his neck to rest on his laboring chest, 
feeling the fast, furious beating of his heart, which matched the 
pace of her own heart, and whispered, "I'd be more comfortable on 
our bed."

If it were possible, his heart started pounding faster, and his eyes 
were glittering with passion and arousal.  Yet he panted, "Scully, 
we have...we have to wait."

"Wait for what?" she asked, and scratched her fingernails over his 
nipple.  She was delighted when he sucked in a breath, but before 
she could do it again, he reached up to move her hand away, 
squeezing it tightly before laying it down on his thigh.  

Which was an even better location.  She was sliding her hand up the 
soft, worn denim as he replied, "Wait until your arm is bet-TER!"  
She giggled at the way his voice rose when she reached her target.  

"Scuh-lee," he moaned, "You're not playing fair."  Still, he pushed 
up against her hand once, and then moaning again, took it away, this 
time holding it against his stomach and not releasing it.

"The operative word being 'play'," she said, in a credible imitation 
of his leer, waggling her eyebrows up and down.  She could see 
though that he was really worried.  "Mulder, I want you.  Very 
much.  And I think if we're careful, we'll be able to play without 
incident."

His lips quirked up in a smile before he replied,  "Without 
incident?  That's no fun.  I want you to have...multiple 
incidents."  Then he shook his head, like a dog shook water off his 
back, the sober, responsible man back in the forefront.  "We can't.  
I'm afraid I'll hurt you."

She was going to hurt him if she didn't get any action soon.  
"Mulderrrrr," she groaned.  "I know we can do this.  We'll prop 
lots of pillows under my arm, and I promise I won't move."  She 
tried the wagging eyebrows again, and teased, "You can do all the 
work."

He looked stubborn, even with an obvious erection straining against 
his tight jeans.

Time for the big guns.  

With effort, she leaned forward until her lips were brushing his 
ear.  She let her tongue dart out and touch the lobe, and felt the 
shiver that went through his body.  

Mulder had very sensitive ears.  

She followed up by whispering directly into the canal, "Did you know 
that I have been aware for quite some time that you chart my time of 
the month?"  She spoke reasonably, without a hint of anger, for in 
fact, it had amused her to no end the first time she had caught him 
at it, unbeknownst to him.

His body jerked beneath her hand, his stomach muscles tightening as 
if he expected a blow.  

She chuckled softly into his ear, eliciting another shiver.  "But 
what you don't know," she continued, and threw every bit of 
seductiveness she could into the words,  "is that for the few days 
before my period starts, I am so...unbelievably..." She paused 
to suck in a noisy breath and exhaled the last word, "horny."   

Bull's-eye.

Mulder's hands were in her hair, and his lips were on hers before 
she could take her next breath.  A long, delirious second later he 
was releasing her and rising from the couch, holding his hand out 
to help her up.

Scully placed her hand in his, and while he gently tugged, she 
leaned her weight forward, and together they got her up and off 
the couch.  

He released her hand and brought both of his up to frame her face.  
"I love you, Scully.  More than I can ever say."  He punctuated the 
words with the sweetest of kisses, close-mouthed and gentle.

When he lifted his head, he was smiling.  So was she.  "I love you 
too, Mulder."  She lifted her hand to hook it in the waistband of 
his jeans, just above the zipper, millimeters away from the visible 
result of her teasing.  "Now take me to our bed and make love to 
me."

"With pleasure," he said, and grabbed her hand to lead her down 
the hallway.

"God, I hope so!" she teased, lagging just slightly behind him.  
If she'd had a free hand, she'd have pinched his butt, which was 
framed so nicely in those jeans.  

Of course, she would prefer him out of the jeans, for now anyway.  
Maybe later he could walk around in just the jeans, with a bare 
hest and bare feet.  One of his better looks, after the one where 
he wore nothing at all.

"That had better not be a disparagement of my prowess," he growled,
and shot her a look over his shoulder. He followed up by winking 
at her.  "But I'll certainly do my best."

Once they had reached her bedroom, he led her to the chair in the 
corner and helped her sit.  He then turned to the bed and began 
arranging her pillows, muttering that he needed more.  "I'll be 
right back," he said, and left the room.  He was back less than a 
minute later, more pillows stuffed under his arms.  He added them 
to the pile, and then turned back to her.  He helped her up from 
the chair and looked at her, one eyebrow lifting in question.

"I need the sling off first," she told him, and instructed him on 
how to pull it off in one direction while she gently moved her arm 
in the other.  He then lifted it off from around her neck and placed 
it on her dresser.  She had worn a buttoned shirt, because it was 
easier to slide on and off, and after she slowly lowered her arm to 
her side, he began to undo each tiny button, starting at the one 
between her breasts.

His knuckles grazed the swell of each breast, and she sucked in her 
breath at the contact, fleeting as it was, for he had already moved 
on to the next button.  As he continued down to the last one, the 
shirt had slowly fallen open, baring her skin to his view.  

She was not wearing a bra, having decided the strap would have been 
too painful on her shoulder, and knew Mulder had realized it when he 
exhaled rather loudly, his eyes riveted to her cleavage.  He stood 
that way as if transfixed, for a few seconds before a shudder went 
through him and he moved to unbutton each of her cuffs.  

Once that was done, he eased the material down off her injured arm, 
while she shrugged out of it on the other side.  The shirt fell to 
the floor and pooled at her feet.  She kicked it away with a flick
of one foot.

She stood before him nude from the waist up, with the white bandage 
at her shoulder, and her nipples hard and aching for his touch.  

One of his hands came up and just barely brushed a tight, little 
bud with his palm, and goosebumps raced over skin.  She moaned and 
thrust her chest forward in mute invitation.  

He ignored it though, and hooked his hands in the waistband of her 
leggings.  

Her stomach jumped and twitched at the feel of his fingers beneath 
the material, almost brushing the edges of her panties.  With a 
gentle tug, he pulled them down over her hips, going down on his 
knees before her as he brought them to her feet.  

Scully placed her good hand on his shoulder and lifted each foot one 
at a time to step free of the leggings.  Mulder tossed them aside, 
remaining on his knees.  She watched as he slowly leaned forward and 
nuzzled her center through her panties, inhaling deeply.

He made an 'mmmmm' sound, which reverberated over her flesh, and she 
thought vaguely to herself that she should be embarrassed, knowing 
he was smelling the most intimate part of her, a sure sign of her 
excitement, which was slowly saturating her panties, but she was 
not.  

She was extremely aroused, and her knees buckled slightly.

Mulder chuckled, sending a wave of pleasure through her, and then 
pressed a moist kiss on her before bringing his hands to the 
waistband of her panties and guiding them off as he had with the 
leggings.  

Tossing them aside, he rose to his feet and took her hand to lead 
her to the bed.  She sat down and he helped her swing her legs up 
onto the mattress.  She was able to shimmy over a bit so that she 
was not so close to the edge of the bed, and Mulder helped her get 
settled on her mound of pillows.  He softly asked if it she was 
comfortable, and she nodded in reply, licking her suddenly dry 
lips.

Mulder had watched her as she did that, and echoed the gesture on 
his own lips, unconsciously it seemed to her, before he met her 
eyes.  They commanded hers to watch him, and then his hands moved 
to the hem of his untucked tee shirt.  He ripped it over his head 
in one smooth motion, and threw it aside, his hands then going to 
the button of his jeans.  

It opened with a tiny, audible pop, which made her jerk slightly on 
the bed.  She could not take her eyes off of his hands, and watched 
as he slowly lowered his zipper, careful of the bulge behind the 
denim.  He moved to his waistband, hooking his fingers beneath the 
jeans, and with a shimmy of his hips, pulled them down a little, 
teasing her with a look at his heather gray boxer-briefs.  

She loved those boxer-briefs.  How they clung to his ass and upper 
thighs, and gently cupped him between the legs.  Scully licked her 
lips in anticipation of when he would be revealed in all his naked 
glory, and heard Mulder chuckle again. 

"Getting anxious, Scully?" he teased, and shimmied his hips again.

Yes, but damned if she was going to admit it.  So she faked a yawn, 
patting her mouth theatrically.  "Getting tired, actually," she 
sighed, and batted her eyelashes at him.

He grinned at her, and then with one quick yank, pulled his jeans 
and the boxer-briefs down.  His erection sprung free, and she felt 
herself grow even wetter.  A few kicks of his legs, and the rest of 
his clothes were gone.  He placed on knee on the mattress, which 
caused it to dip slightly from his weight, and then climbed 
carefully onto the bed, easing himself beside her, lying on his 
side.  

His hardness pressed into her thigh, and she moved her leg slightly 
to rub at it, which made him hiss in his breath.

Scully tilted her head a little and stared into his desire-filled 
eyes.  She licked her lips again, and gave him a command.  "Kiss 
me, Mulder."

He did, with alacrity.

***

It took all his will power and then some to get back up on his feet 
after kneeling before the altar of Scully, her scent surrounding 
him, enflaming him, when all he had wanted to do was drag her down 
on the floor, cover her with his body and let nature take its course 
in the wildest of ways.  

He was still reeling from her assault on his ear and her admission 
to being horny.  Scully was a very sensual and passionate woman, but 
she still had this inherent shyness about her sexuality, and much 
insecurity about revealing it to him, although together they were 
slowly getting her past her barriers.  Hearing those words from her 
had nearly thrown him for a loop.  

And sent arousal skyrocketing throughout his body.

But his flicking glance upward, past the triangle of curls, her 
quivering stomach and turgid nipples, had caught the flash of white, 
the bandage on her injured shoulder, and he quickly regained the 
ironclad hold on his control.  He was not going to risk hurting her 
for the sake of pleasure, as mind-blowing as it would be.

Mulder took her hand and led her to the bed, where he helped her 
climb onto the mattress, gently lifting her legs up so she would not 
have to strain her shoulder, and arrange herself on the pillows.  
He asked her if she was comfortable, and her reply was a nod of her
head, followed by her tongue licking her lips.

The gesture captivated him, it was so innocent and so erotic at the 
same time, and he had to lick at his own suddenly dry lips.  He then 
met her eyes, which seemed as desire-filled as he knew his must be.  
The desire in her blue orbs flared brighter after he ripped his tee 
shirt over his head and moved his hands to the button of his jeans.  

She jolted a little as the button popped open, and he slowed his 
movements in response, dragging the zipper down in increments, 
careful of the erection that was contained within.  Once the tab was
down all the way, his moved his hands to his waistband, but instead 
of yanking the jeans off, he merely lowered them a little and 
wiggled his hips slightly, giving her a little glimpse at his 
underwear.  

He kknew Scully had a thing for the boxer-briefs he often wore; he 
had caught her eying him in them on numerous occasions as he had 
dressed or undressed.

He was rewarded by another dart of her tongue, and he couldn't 
resist asking, "Getting anxious?"  He punctuated the question with 
another wiggle of his hips.

Not to be outdone, his little temptress mock-yawned and replied, 
"Getting tired, actually."  She punctuated her retort with a flutter
of her eyelashes.  

What a tease.

His grin was wide.  How he loved her.  Forget the little strip show, 
he wasn't sure who was more turned on by it, him or her.  His 
fingers gripped both his jeans and his underwear and hauled them 
down quickly.  He almost sighed as his erection was freed from 
captivity.  

Mulder still held onto his control, the one that kept him from 
descending onto the bed with a pounce, and slowly lay down on his 
side next to Scully, careful not to move the bed too much or 
dislodge her from her nest of pillows.  His hardness bumped her 
thigh, and she responded by infinitesimally moving her leg in a 
teasing caress on the sensitive tip of his penis that he felt from 
his toes to his scalp, and had him sucking air in noisily through 
his teeth.

Scully shifted her head slightly on her pillow so that their eyes 
met.  

He watched avidly as she traced her lips with the tip of her tongue 
yet again and then said, "Kiss me, Mulder."

As he hastened to obey her, Mulder was not sure what he loved more.  
Hearing those three words spoken as a demand or as a breathless 
plea, or seeing them shaped by her utterly perfect mouth.  The mouth 
that was currently being crushed beneath his.  The mouth he had 
fantasized about for longer than he could remember.  She had to know 
about his fascination with her mouth and her lips, for all the 
wetting and licking she did couldn't all be accidental or 
unconscious.

Not that it mattered right now.  

Their tongues had immediately resumed the duel they had begun out on 
Scully's couch, and somehow his hand had found her right breast.  

Her nipple was a hard little peak beneath his palm, and he moved 
until he was pulling and tugging at it with his fingers.  

She thrust her chest upwards in reaction, and moaned into his mouth.

He eased up on her mouth, afraid she had hurt her shoulder, and 
mumbled against her lips, "Are you okay?"  

"I'm...fine!" she gasped back, and nipped at his upper lip with her 
teeth, sending a shockwave of pleasure/pain through his body.  

He growled in response, and reciprocated by sucking her lower lip 
into his mouth to first bite it and then sooth the sting with his 
tongue.  

Her hand swept up his back to wind into his hair, and then she was 
pushing his head down, until their lips were mashed together again.  

Keeping most of his weight on his elbow, he leaned his body forward 
a little more to press himself firmly against her length, and slid 
one leg up and between hers, nudging them apart.  

Scully bent one leg at the knee, so that her heel rested on the bed, 
which brought his thigh in snug against her center.  She began to 
rock her hips, rubbing herself against his leg, and he started a 
slow thrusting to deepen that contact, and from the way her hand 
tightened in his hair, her pleasure as well.  It also allowed his 
erection to slide along her hip, creating a wonderful friction.

Except he would not last long if that friction continued.  He forced 
himself to slow his movements, which made Scully groan her 
disappointment.  He peppered her face with tiny kisses in apology 
before shifting his body and inching downwards with his mouth and 
his hand.  He sucked and nibbled along her neck to her collarbone, 
which he traced with his tongue, while his hand left her breast to 
meander its way down towards the nest of curls between her legs.

Scully sighed his name and her head rolled lazily back and forth on 
her pillow as the leg closest to him moved restlessly, brushing 
against his straining erection.  

Mulder grit his teeth and lurched his hips back with a gasp, for the 
contact was too much, and had to gulp in a lungful of air, needing 
to slow the rapidly intensifying feelings.  He was not ready to be 
inside her yet, he wanted to tease and taste for a while before 
bringing them both to completion.

His mouth and his hand worked in concert and reached their intended 
targets at the same time, wringing a gasp and then a moan from 
Scully.   

Her grip on his hair tightened as she held his head to her breast 
while his teeth worried her nipple, and her hips began a dance as 
old as time in tune with the stroking of his fingers.

He teased her nipple with his tongue before slowly pulling back, 
sucking on it and drawing it along with his mouth until he released 
it to gently blow across it.  

Scully shivered, and a fine tracery of goosebumps dotted her skin.  
With one last kiss to the slope of her breast, his lips began a 
meandering journey downwards.  He traced each rib with his tongue, 
and then scraped his teeth over her hipbone, feeling her stomach 
muscles skittering and jumping beneath his mouth.  

Her belly button was next.  First he circled it with his tongue 
before teasing it too with a blowing breath.  Scully's breathy 
giggle turned into a moan when he gave it an open-mouthed kiss.  
Her hand tightened even more in his hair, and she called his name 
with urgency.

Lifting his head and letting his chin rest on her lower belly, he 
saw that she was regarding him with heavy-lidded eyes.  

"Mulderrrr..." she sighed.  "I can't wait any more.  I want...I 
need you inside me."

His cock leapt at those words, and with careful, precise movements, 
he was lying on top of her, his thigh insinuating itself back 
between her legs.  He held his weight off of her with his right 
hand planted on the mattress on the left side of her head, and his 
left elbow also planted firmly, but snug by her right side.  Her 
good arm was wrapped around his shoulders, and her knees had fallen 
open so that his pelvis was pressed against hers.  

With a few experimental movements of his hips, he had his hardness 
poised at her opening.  She surged upwards as he thrust forward, and 
then he was buried deep inside her.  

They both moaned, and Mulder dropped his head to rest on her good 
shoulder, feeling her hand stroke his back.  He held completely 
still, to absorb the wonderful feelings of being inside her at 
last.  

After a minute, Scully whispered his name, and swept her hand down 
to cup the cheek of his ass. 

At that, he could hold still no longer.  He began a slow, steady 
thrusting, feeling her hips responding to his rhythm, and hearing 
her breath huff in and out with each surge of their bodies.  

She lifted her right leg and encircled his hips, her heel pushing 
firmly into his flesh, and began to grind her pelvis into his.

He still had the presence of mind to ask, "Is this...
<thrust> ...hurting...<thrust>...you?"

"Only...if you...stop," was her response.

"I don't...<thrust>...think I...<thrust>...could."

"Oh...God...that feels...sooooo...good."

"Yes...<thrust>...you do!" he gasped.

As much as he wanted it to last, the pleasure was spiraling 
throughout him, coiling in his balls, gathering in the base of 
his spine.  

He began to thrust harder, faster, and still Scully matched him 
pace for pace.  He panted into her shoulder, sweat forming on his 
brow, and managed to lift his head and bring his lips to hers for 
a deep, wet kiss.

Her hand swept up from his ass to his hair again, and fisted 
tightly, while her heel dug into his lower back, pushing him even 
harder into her body.  Inside, her muscles were gripping and 
releasing him, slowly pushing him over the edge.

"Scuh..." he grunted.  "Gonna come.  You...ready?"

"Right with you," she panted back, and he felt the first flutters 
within her that signified the beginning of her climax.  He added a 
twisting motion to his thrusts and a few seconds later her back was 
arching and her head thrashed back and forth on the pillow.  "Mul-
DERRRR!" she cried.

He felt her orgasm rush through her, and as the contractions caused 
her muscles to clamp down on his penis, he began to pump madly, 
finally giving one last, deep thrust and exploding with a long, 
furious burst and a hoarse shout.  "SCUH-LEE!!!"

His arms were quivering with the strain of holding his body off 
of hers, but he would not let himself collapse on top of her.  Once
his hips had stopped moving, he gently slipped from inside her and 
rolled to her side, his right hand splayed over her belly, which was
still rising and falling in rapid bursts, and sighed her name. 
 
"You...okay?" he asked, and lifted his head weakly to see that her 
eyes were closed, and that she was breathing through her mouth in 
pants.

She inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled before replying, "I'm 
wonderful," in a sighing voice.  "That was...fantastic."  She opened
her eyes and turned her head to look at him.  "I love you, Mulder."  
Her right hand came up, a little awkwardly, for he was pressed 
against her, and her thumb rubbed his bottom lip.  "So very much."

Mulder grabbed her thumb with his lips, sucking it into his mouth 
for a moment before releasing it to reply, "I love you too, 
Scully."  He lifted his hand from her belly and reached for hers,
entwining their fingers together and brought them back down to rest
on her belly.

It was then that it occurred to him that he had forgotten to give 
her his other gift, which he had tucked beneath her pillow when he 
had brought the group of pillows in from the living room for her
nest.  

He was just too comfortable to move right then.  He'd give it to 
her as soon as they were cleaned up.  Which would be...<yawn>...
in just a minute.  

Scully was still watching him, but she looked as sleepy as he felt.  
She blinked slowly, and then her eyes closed as she yawned herself.

His own eyes slipped shut.

***

The pleasure was building and building within her, bringing her ever 
closer to the final pinnacle, and Scully could not stop her hand 
from moving endlessly over him.  She cupped his ass, stroked his 
back, and finally as she felt the beginnings of her orgasm, she 
fisted it in his hair.  She moved her leg too, up higher over his 
hip, to squeeze him tighter against her.

Mulder grunted an approximation of her name, telling her he was 
going to come, asking her if she was ready.

Was she ever.  

Scully answered him on a panting breath, "Right with you."  

His thrusts remained steady, but he added a little swivel to his 
hips, and the motion added pressure in just the right spot, throwing 
her over the edge.  

Her back arched impossibly high off the mattress, and she thrashed 
her head back and forth on her pillow, a cry bursting from her 
lips.  

His name.  "Mul-DERRRR!"

He began to pound into her, his breaths short, harsh pants in her 
ear, and then Scully felt his entire body go rigid for long seconds 
as he emptied himself into her body. "SCUH-LEE!!!"  Mulder shouted, 
a glorious cry of completion.

She was still flying high on the heels of her own orgasm, her 
insides quaking and quivering, but concentrated on absorbing every 
nuance of his pleasure.  She loved the way his eyes scrunched 
tightly shut, and how the tendons in his neck stretched taut as he 
threw his head back and groaned her name in long, drawn out 
syllables.

She also loved that moment after, when he would collapse on top of 
her, and all his weight would press her into the mattress, providing 
a cocoon of heat and love and protection.  

Instead though, after slipping out of her warmth, he lowered himself 
to lie at her side, his big hand resting easily on her belly.  She 
was disappointed, but at the same time touched by how careful he was 
even while in a post-coital haze.  Speaking of that haze, she let her
eyes slide shut and concentrated on slowing her breathing, still 
rapid and short, and on the flutters still rippling through her 
body.

He said her name again, a sighing sound, and from the movement 
against her shoulder, she knew he had lifted his head and was 
probably looking at her.  "You...okay?" he said next.

Scully took another deep breath, held it for long seconds before 
releasing it and sighed out, "I'm wonderful.  That was...
fantastic."  

Opening her eyes, she turned her head to the side, met his gaze.  "I 
love you, Mulder," she said softly.  Her eyes dropped down to his 
lower lip, slightly swollen from the eager attention she had laved 
on it, and wiggling a bit, managed to pull her arm free from where 
it had been caged between their two bodies, to stroke her thumb 
across its fullness.  "So very much," she added earnestly.

She watched the pupils in his eyes contract, and their hazel color 
deepen and darken, and realized she could lose herself in those 
depths, staring at the flecks of green and gold and brown.  

Mulder quickly moved to capture her thumb with his lips and pulled 
it into the heat of his mouth, applying gentle suction and starting 
the faintest of stirrings in the pit of her belly.  But he released 
it almost as quickly as he had grabbed it and said, "I love you too, 
Scully."  The warmth of his hand left her stomach as he lifted it 
up to reach for hers, twining their fingers together, and brought 
them both back down to lay against her flesh.  

His head lowered again, to share her pillow, his chin resting gently 
against her shoulder.  Their breaths mingled as they continued to 
stare at each other, and her eyes felt heavy, a sweet lassitude 
sweeping through her body. Her eyelids had drooped to half-mast but
she still saw him yawn, felt as his chest swelled against her side 
with its force, and blinking slowly, sighed out a tiny yawn of her 
own.

She kept her eyes shut, and knew his eyes must have closed too as 
his body sank and relaxed further into hers.  Her neck was getting 
sore angled like the way it was, so she let her head roll gently 
back into the groove of the pillow where it had rested before. 

It was nice, lying like this with Mulder, but she wished they were 
able to spoon instead.  

But it would be another week at least before that would be 
possible.  

Surprisingly though, their muted yet still vigorous activity had not 
caused her any pain.  Not that she recalled anyway, she thought with
a smirk.  She'd been too caught up in the incredible sensations 
swamping her body to notice if her shoulder or back had hurt.

Mulder made a snuffling, snoring sound in her ear then, and she 
smiled slightly, opening her eyes and turning her head to the side 
once more to watch him sleep.  Although she was tired, a very 
pleasant kind of tired, she did not think she would be able to do 
the same.  Her long afternoon nap almost guaranteed she would be 
awake for a while.

He looked younger, and more innocent, his features slack, relaxed, 
despite the shadows under his eyes.  Shadows that were a result of 
his confessed sleepless nights while she had been in the hospital.  

She hoped that now she was home, those shadows would disappear.  

His lush lower lip jutted out endearingly and that boyish, stubborn 
lock of hair was lying on his forehead.  She automatically lifted 
her free hand; the one not entwined with Mulder's, her left hand, 
to stroke it off his face.  

She was halfway towards her goal when a spike of pain deep in her 
shoulder had her freezing in place.  She bit down hard on her lip 
to hold back the moan that had risen in her throat as tears formed 
in her eyes, turning her head away from him once more, and slowly 
lowered her arm back down along her side.  Several deep breaths in 
and out through her mouth helped, and the pain subsided to a dull 
ache.

She had clenched both hands into fists when the pain struck, with 
her right one squeezing Mulder's fingers so tight she was surprised 
he didn't wake up.  

As for her left hand, she was now aware of her ring, the beautiful 
Claddagh ring from Mulder, digging into her flesh.  That sharp 
little pain distracted her from the one in her shoulder.

Releasing her fists slowly, the blood rushing back into the digits
with a vengeance, she felt Mulder's fingers twitch against hers.  
She moved her head slightly, and saw a frown flicker across his 
face.  As always, her instinct was to soothe.  "Mulder," she 
whispered softly.  "I'm here, everything's all right."

Immediately the frown disappeared, to be replaced by a small smile.  
Behind closed lids his eyes moved rapidly, and his lips moved almost 
soundlessly.  Scully.

"That's right, Mulder.  It's Scully. I'm here," she whispered.  She 
squeezed his fingers gently, not like the death grip she'd had on 
them before, and he returned the squeeze, still smiling in his dream 
state.

God, he was so beautiful.  She could stare at him for hours.  And 
with him asleep, she had a chance to do so without him trying to 
distract her, or moving away in embarrassment.  

Or divert her attention by kissing her silly, and touching her 
anywhere he could reach.  

Both were diversions she quite willingly went along with of course, 
but it was such a treat to look at him, and to know that she did 
not have to sneak these looks like she had in the past, before they 
had admitted their feelings to each other.

As they had reaffirmed them again today.

That thought brought to mind the gift Mulder had given her in 
celebration of those feelings, now gracing her left hand, her 
wedding finger. Unable to bring her hand up to study her Claddagh 
ring, she used her thumb to rub against the circlet, closing her 
eyes to replay that moment when they had opened the velvet box and 
she had gotten her first glimpse of it.  She was not even sure she 
could accurately describe the emotions and feelings that had run 
through her and over her and all around her.

Shock, amazement, pleasure, fear, you name it, but most of all, 
over-whelming love.

She wondered if Mulder knew how completely and utterly he owned 
her heart.  She would have to tell him when he woke up again.

Despite her wish for him to get some rest, Scully hoped it would 
notbe too long.

***

3:30 pm

Mulder woke slowly, easily.  He did not immediately open his eyes as 
was his usual first response, but instead snuggled his face deeper 
into the pillow beneath his head.  The pillow that was scented like 
Scully.  His chin brushed something soft and smooth and warm, and he 
smiled to himself, remembering drifting off to sleep, his head by 
her shoulder.

There was also something tickling his nose, and he wiggled it before 
finally opening his eyes.  Scully's hair was fanned out across the 
pillow, and a strand of it lay curled just beneath his nose.  Every 
time he inhaled and exhaled, his breath disturbed it, lifting it to 
tease his nose.  He did not mind.

He looked past her hair, to her face, presented in profile to him.  
His eyes caressed the smooth line of her brow, her proud Roman nose, 
the beautiful rosebud lips slightly parted as she breathed evenly 
and slowly, and her usually stubborn chin softened in relaxation.

So involved was he in his visual feast, he was startled when Scully 
spoke, without opening her eyes.

"I can feel you looking at me," she said softly.  Her lips then 
curved into a tiny smile.

Mulder smiled too.  "You can, huh?" he asked, and ducked his head 
a little to press a kiss on that shoulder, delighted by the little 
shiver that ran through her at his touch.  "What does it feel like, 
Scully?"

"Love," she whispered, and turned her head, her eyes now open.  They 
captured his with their intensity.  "It feels like love."

This time it was he who shivered.  "Oh, it is love, Scully.  It is," 
he whispered back. "More than I can say." He felt his abdominal 
muscles strain as he lifted slightly and propped himself up on one 
elbow.  

He then tugged gently to free his other hand from her clasp, 
bringing it up to her face.  He used the tip of one finger to 
delicately trace the features his eyes had touched just moments 
ago, before leaning forward to brush his lips across hers.

"Mmmmm," she sighed against them, her eyes fluttering shut. "More."

Always happy to oblige her, he let his own eyes slip shut, and 
applied more pressure to her lips, while still keeping the kiss 
somewhat chaste.  

Her chin angled up, and she nipped at his lips, in an attempt to 
entice him into providing the more she had requested.  

He smiled without easing up, and opened his eyes again to see that 
she had as well.  And that they were filled with love and laughter.

He gave her one last, quick close-mouthed kiss before raising his 
head again.  Using the hand that had been stroking her face, he 
reached way over her to search under the mound of pillows for the 
other jewelry box.  

His arm brushed over her face in the process, and he had the hell 
surprised out of him when she used the opportunity to lick at the 
tender skin on its underside.  The action sent a jolt of fire 
through his veins, and he huffed out, "Jesus!" twitching his arm 
away from her mouth.

She giggled and replied, "No, the name's Scully."

"Ha, ha," he responded, and with one final lunge, he located the 
velvet box.  He remained the way he was though, half-leaning on her, 
his face just inches from hers.  "Close your eyes," he said huskily. 

She looked at him with curiosity plain in her eyes, one eyebrow 
quirking up adorably, before she obeyed his request. 

"Don't open them until I tell you."

She nodded and kept them closed, although her head turned a little 
when the pillows rustled as he withdrew his second gift.  "Mulder?" 
she said softly.

"Shhhh..." He lifted his arm back, and wiggled a bit until he was 
more comfortably arranged on his hip, bringing the velvet box to her 
stomach.  Using just its edge, he nudged her hand off of her belly, 
where upon she let it slide back between their bodies, and then 
traced a circle around her belly button.  

Her stomach muscles jumped and quivered, and her breath escaped in
a noisy rush of air that was an approximation of his name.

Twisting his wrist slightly, he dragged the box up and along her 
body, and watched the expressions flit across her face, knowing she 
was trying to figure out what he was touching her with.  But she did 
not try and peek.  Her honesty and sense of fair play was stronger 
than her curiosity.

After a minute of tracing idle patterns on her flesh and watching
her twist and shiver in reaction, her nipples harden to little 
points, and her breaths grow more and more rapid, he whispered, 
"Open your eyes."

They popped open immediately, and he had to laugh.

She blushed adorably, but her eyes were searching unashamedly for 
the object he had teased her with.  She was hampered by her injury, 
unable to lift her head or really try to grab at it, so he lifted 
the box from where it rested just under her chin and held it up to 
her eyes.

Like her reaction when she had seen the box that had held the
Claddagh ring, her eyes went all misty and soft, her lips twisting 
in an effort not to cry.  "Mulder..." was all she said.

"I saw this when I was paying for your ring, and I couldn't resist.  
Guess it was fate."  Her eyebrow crooked upwards in question, and he 
squirmed around again until the hand that his head had been propped 
on joined his other one.  

The box opened with a creak, and Scully stared at what it contained 
for several seconds before sputtering out his name again.  She then 
followed that up with a giggle.

"It's...it's perfect, Mulder," she finally managed to say, shifting 
her gaze from the box to his eyes.

He grinned and nodded, and watched as she looked again at the gold 
bracelet whose links consisted of tiny X's. 

"I thought so," he said.  "It was also a good back-up for if I lost 
my nerve regarding the ring."

"I'm glad you didn't lose your nerve," she said quietly, and lifted 
her right hand up so that she could caress his cheek with her thumb.

He turned his head so that her thumb brushed his lips, and pressed a 
kiss upon the digit.  "So am I," he said huskily.  Laying the box 
down on her belly, Mulder awkwardly pulled the bracelet free of the 
tiny hooks that held it pinned to the satin that lined the box, and 
brought it to her right wrist.  He fastened it easily and Scully held
her arm up, twisting it from side to side so that it gleamed in the 
late afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows.

"Thank-you, Mulder," she whispered, and lowered her arm to touch his 
chin, turning his head to face hers.  Their lips met in a deep, 
slow, satisfying kiss that went on and on until Scully finally pulled
her lips free.

"So, Mulder," she said, her voice and expression serious.  

He was almost worried, until he saw that her eyes were smiling.  
"Yes, Scully?" he asked.

"When are we going to move your couch and your fish in?"


THE END

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