From: Sasha0012@aol.com Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 21:16:26 EDT Subject: completed story Source: direct "Seeing Red" By Angst Summary: Aw, I don't wanna spoil it. Rating: NC-17 for sexual content Category: S, MSR Key Words: Mulder/Scully romance Spoiler warning: Biogenesis (slightly), Wetwired (Again, only slight) Disclaimer: As always. Don't own `em. Chris Carter, Fox and 10:13 do. Ain't getting any profit from this. So please don't sue me, `cause I ain't got anything but this here computer. Author's note: This story was written shortly after, and takes place post Biogenesis. As CC hadn't yet written our beloved heroes out of the "Scully on the Ivory Coast/Mulder in a mental hospital" predicament, that much is left entirely uncovered here, but written in such a way that the information is not needed. Suffice to say, important things happen post Biogenesis, but that is not what this story is about. Feedback: If you'd like. "Seeing Red" By Angst They had been on another renegade adventure, following some anonymous tip from yet another informant in the shadows, wandering though the ancient redwood forest in Northern California when they vanished, like two blips on a radar screen that were there one second and gone the next. This time, though, no one was monitoring the radar screen. It wasn't for five days until their absence was noticed. Worse still, as they had left no word of their destination, it wasn't until one week after they were noticed missing that those concerned even knew where they should have looked. A crew of forrestry engineers were out in the woods collecting data for a forest health assessment report when one young man, a college senior working on his directed field study requirement, tripped over something soft. The roll of orange marking tape, clipboard and pen flew from his hands and he tumbled unceremoniously forward, landing with his face in a pile of pine needle covered twigs. He pushed himself up with one hand, and rubbed his slightly scrapped up face with the other. "Ow," he muttered, feeling rather annoyed with himself, then feeling his annoyance turn to whatever it was that tripped him in the first place. Still sprawled on the ground, he twisted his head to look behind him and what he saw made him scramble to his feet and take a few hurried steps back. Which is when he tripped yet again over a root. He let out a surprised yelp before he landed on his ass, resulting in a chorus of responses from his field team-mates. "Who was that?" "Who got hurt?" "Pete, was that you?" Pete scrambled to his feet again, staring wide eyed at the something that had caused him to trip the first time. "Pete?" Pete stood numb for another moment before shaking himself out of it enough to call back. "Yeah! I found something! Hurry!" The rest of the crew came from all directions to see what the matter was. The man who had called Pete by name earlier found him first. "Jeez, Pete, I thought you hurt yourself. Why did you- " The man stopped short as he looked to where Pete was pointing and his jaw dropped. "Holy shit. . . . ." Without any of Pete's hesitation, the older man moved in quickly, kneeling down by the body, carefully brushing away the forest floor debris. He heard the others gasp and mutter hushed words of shock and concern as the reached the site. "It's a woman," he announced. He took her wrist in his hand. It was warm and it faintly beat with the unmistakable pulse of life. "She's alive!" he told them loudly as he exhaled a sigh of relief. "Call down to base. We need a medi-vac." "Yes sir," someone quickly replied. "Here's my emergency blanket, John," a woman said, holding up an package. "Wait, let me. . ." She opened the plastic with her teeth and pulled out the space-aged silver foil and shook it open. "Here." "Thanks, Sheila." Crew foreman John Steiger wrapped the blanket around the woman. He then sat back on his heels and stared at her, wondering who she was. She certainly was pretty. He reached out and brushed some of the excess dirt and leaves from her hair. Red, he thought. He always had a soft spot for red heads. The woman moaned a little. Yeah, John though. She's going to be fine. "You're going to be fine," he repeated aloud. * * * * * * * * * Assistant Director Skinner sat at his paper laden desk not reading a single document spread before him. He was staring at the words, but he wasn't seeing them. He stared unfocused at the black markings and listened to the thunderous silence that permeated the room. It pounded in his ears like the ticking of a time bomb waiting to explode. With a sudden awareness, he snapped himself out of his self induced trance, realizing that monotonous whooshing sound he heard rising and falling in his ears was none other than the pulsing of blood through his veins. Realizing that, he remembered the uninvited guests that his vascular system played host to. With a snort of disgust, he tossed the pen that he had forgotten he was holding at the cabinet on the right. The cabinet that held the video camera which, presently, sat idle. Skinner pulled his desk's file drawer open and fingered through the folders until he came to the one he wanted. He reached inside and withdrew a picture of her. He held it delicately in front of him and stared at it, feeling the twisting pain in his heart, but this time he knew the pain was not being caused by the abhorrent nanites. He had the picture memorized down to the last detail. It was taken at a crime scene while she wasn't looking. It was Mulder who had noticed the photographer's wandering eye and scared the poor man into relinquishing that particular negative. Skinner had found the print in Mulder's office the several days earlier while trying to find some clue as to where his agents had gone. He ran his finger over her image, a small smile coming to his face in spite of himself. She hated him, he remembered. He had lied to her. Lied right to her face in order to save his own pathetic life. But he had wanted to kill himself that day in the psch-ward lobby, when Scully looked at him with her pained, beautiful eyes, the tears about to fall. "Your both liars," was the last thing she had said to him before shaking her arm from his grasp and rushing away. He wanted desperately to go after her. To tell her everything. Fuck the nanites and fuck Krychek with his stupid threats constantly hanging over his head. Fuck the Powers that Be. He didn't want to live if it meant hurting her, if it meant having to suffer her looking at him that way one more time. That was just what he was going to tell Krychek too, but things just shot forward like a whirlwind. After Scully returned from the Ivory Coast, events of mind-blowing proportion took Krychek's focus off Skinner while everybody tried to get their bearings. Before anyone had really come to terms with the situation, Mulder was back with Scully and the two were just gone. Skinner wasn't even sure how it all got to this point. The piercing ring of his phone startled him out of his reverie. He quickly answered with a gruff, "Yes?" "Sir, I have a Mr. Steiger of the California Department of Forestry on line one." "Who? Never mind. Just put him through." There was a pause and then his receptionist said, "Go ahead, sir." "AD Skinner speaking." "Hello, Mr. Skinner. I'm John Steiger of Cal Forestry. It seems I may have found something you lost." * * * * * Scully felt like she was underwater. She might have even thought that was the case except that she could breath. She tried to wake herself, but found that her consciousness was buried under layers of mental cobwebs that were fogging her mind. Slowly, one by one, she began to peel off the layers, and slowly, her sense of being returned to her. Eventually she was able to open her eyes. It took a few longs moments more for her eyes to come into focus and the muffled noises reaching her ears to gain some sense of clarity. Her mouth hadn't yet caught up, and when she tried to ask, "Where am I?" it came out more like, "Worm eye," but the doctor understood just the same. "Your in Redwood Memorial Hospital, and you are one lucky lady, I might add." "Where's Mulder?" Scully attempted, managing only, "Wermuller." This is where the doctor faltered. "Uhmmm. . . ." "He's not here," another voice announced, sparing the doctor. Scully managed to turn her head enough to see the body that went with the voice. When her eyes met AD Skinner's, she rolled her head back away and stared at the wall. Skinner sighed and stared at the floor. "Get out," Scully said. There was no mistaking her words this time. They rang out clear as a bell. Skinner's jaw locked in his infamous outward jut, which it often did when he was angry or upset. Without another word, he strode out of the room, only glancing back once before he closed the door behind him. Scully didn't turn her gaze from the wall. Word was later passed on to Scully that a team of rescue workers were scouring the area where she was found in hopes of recovering Mulder, but so far, nothing had turned up. Four hours later, Scully was feeling miraculously well and insisted that she was ready to be released. She dressed in the slightly dirty, yet amazingly clean clothes under the circumstances of what she had been through. Then with her doctor playing her shadow, telling her all the while that he did not advise that she leave the hospital so soon, she signed herself out against the doctor's advise. Several hours after that, she was back on the mountain, searching with the rescue team for her missing half. * * * * * Two weeks passed since Scully returned to the mountain to search along side the others, which, she had noted, seemed fewer and fewer with each passing day, yet no sign of Mulder was found. Nothing. Not even a fragment of clothing or some hair stuck in a low hanging branch. Not even a footprint left in the drying mud. Even the dogs could not come up with a continued sent. Everyone in the official rescue team had already come to a determination as to the man's fate, but not one of them voiced that opinion. That is, no one voiced it when his determined partner was within earshot. It was time to head back down to base that day. Soon it would be too dark to see. All but two team members gathered up their gear and headed down. Team leader Chris Johnston and his FLIR operator, Marc Walsh waited for Agent Scully as she charted spots on her terrain map of where they had been and where she thought they should go tomorrow. She would start at a point five miles east of where she was standing and have the team fan out from there. Sure, they had covered that spot, but they hadn't realized that they may have missed some caves, as was evidenced by the fact that they had discovered a cave today in a spot they thought had been searched thoroughly. "What do you think?" Marc asked Chris while Scully was well beyond earshot, looking intently through a telescope at the valley spread out below her. "I don't know," Chris replied. "What do you think?" "I think he's dead." "Yeah well, what am I supposed to do about it? What am I supposed to tell her?" "He either got eaten up weeks ago or drowned in the river." "Well I'm not going to order we troll the river right now. I can't, what with the Coho breading season right now, and all. The EPA nuts would have my neck." "And the fishermen." "I'm not gonna receive a world of shit for trolling through a salmon bed for a guy we know is dead. Finding him ain't gonna change nothing," Chris stated sadly. "Yeah, and anyways, more than two weeks rotting in the river, I'll bet he ain't even all here anyway and what's left of him got washed away." "Yeah, you're probably- " Chris stopped suddenly when he noticed the agent standing there staring at them both with a look of pure fire equal to the red of her hair. "Uh, ma'am, " he started. Scully interrupted him, spitting out each word with equal emphasis. "He - is - not - dead!" Chris swallowed hard. He looked at her small frame, now even smaller since two weeks ago. He knew she barley ate. "Ma'am, it's been three weeks at least, counting the one you were both unaccounted for." "I don't care," Scully countered. "I'm not giving up." She added softly, "God knows he never gave up on me." "Look, Agent Scully, I want to find him for you, really I do, but there's nothing more we can do tonight. We have to head down now while we still have some light." Not that Chris was worried about hiking in the dark. He knew the way better that anybody, but he didn't think he could keep her from slipping away from them in the dark, and at this point, he was certain that's what she'd do. "And besides," he told her, hoping to strike some sense in her by logical reasoning, "Marc here needs to get home to his wife who was running a bit of a fever this morning. Isn't that right, Marc?" "Yeah. She maybe has a touch of the flu. I ought to get home and fix her some soup or tea or something." Scully regarded them sourly for a moment, before uttering, "Fine. You go. I'll look for him myself." Before Marc realized it, Scully had relieved him of the FLIR and was trudging off with it pointing it out in front of her and staring at the screen in hopes of seeing a large infrared spot indicating a human sized, warm body. Marc started to vocalize a protest and go regain possession of the equipment when Chris held him back. "Forget it. Let her go. You head down. I'll stay with her for a while. Just do me a favor when you get down there and make a phone call for me." Scully swept the FLIR slowly from side to side, but saw nothing hopeful. When Chris caught up with her, she subconsciously tightened her grip on the device. He didn't try and take it from her though. He merely walked by her side for about fifteen minutes until he finally had had enough. He had to stop this. As he came to that decision, he simultaneously wondered what it was like to have a woman, especially such a pretty woman, love him as much as he knew Dana Scully loved this poor Mulder fellow. He wondered if this Mulder ever knew how lucky he had been to have had someone like that while he was alive. "Agent Scully," Chris began. "No." "Agent Scully," he repeated. When she didn't stop, he took a firm hold of her arm. "Agent Scully it's time to go back down. Now," he finished, gently, but firmly. "You go if you want to," she said bitterly and tried to disengage herself from his grip, but at the same time didn't want to drop the FLIR. Chris took hold of her other arm at the elbow as well and tightened both grips. "No. I'm not leaving you up here. I'm not going to loose you up here too. Now you're coming back down with me now, even if I have to bind and gag you and carry you slung over my shoulder if necessary." They tried to stare each other down for the next few moments. "Don't think I won't do it," Chris finally said. They stared at each other for a few minutes more. With a sigh of a patience lost, Chris let one of her elbows go and wrenched the FLIR pieces from each hand. Then he looked into her eyes again, giving her another moment to choose returning down the trail willingly. Scully was beat and she knew it. She was exhausted to the brink of becoming seriously ill, or maybe even delusional, and she didn't have any fight left in her. She dropped her head in defeat and heaved a painful sigh. "Fine." She looked up at him with wet eyes. "Fine, let's go." In the distance, she thought she heard something. A helicopter, she unconsciously registered, but her conscious mind didn't process it. Until they reached the base below and she saw a helicopter parked in the field. When Skinner emerged from the base office, she stopped short. He looked ridiculously out of place, she thought, in his smartly pressed suit and London Fog trench coat. As he approached her, Scully shot Chris an accusatory look. He wouldn't return her gaze, but moved away as Skinner came to stand before her. "Agent Scully, I'm here to take you home." "I'm not leaving." "Agent Scu- " "I'm not leaving until I find him." With that she tried to walk away, but he grabbed her arm. She had to learn how to keep that from always happening, she thought with disgust. "Not this time, Dana. You're not walking away." A small spark ignited her core, and she very slowly began to feel the burn. "I beg to differ, sir. And you have no jurisdiction over me right now. This- " "The hell I don't!" She shouted over him, "This is a personal matter!" "Have you taken a look at yourself lately? When was the last time you ate, or slept even? You think you're invincible? Jesus Christ, Scully, you're wasting away. How are you doing Mulder any good if you make yourself sick?" "I'm fine," she stated in no uncertain terms. "That's a load of crap. Now you're going to get on that helicopter and you are going home." "Now that, sir," she began, spitting out the "sir" as if it were something distasteful, "is a load of crap." She yanked her arm hard and managed to free herself from him. She took a step back. "Well, you have a choice, Agent. You can get on that chopper willingly, or I can place you on it forcibly. Up to you." The slight burning inside of her rose to the surface, pushing aside the veil of exhaustion and defeat she felt earlier. This was the second time in one day that she was threatened with the forcible confiscation of her personal control and it made her furious. Dana Scully did not relinquish control without a fight. She took another step back. "You just try it," she spit at him. Skinner caught her subtle arm movement and while she was quick, he was quicker, and had her wrist in his hand just as the tips of her fingers barely grazed the handle of her holstered gun. He pulled her gun from its resting spot and tossed it to Chris, who handed it off to one of the helicopter crewmen. Then with one fluid series of motions, he had her turned around, her back against him, one strong arm wrapped around her waist, one large, strong hand holding her small wrists so that her arms were pinned against her chest. Her struggle was admirable, but wholly ineffective. He held her such that her feet were dangling off the ground and her kicks could not gain enough force to actually hurt him enough to make him let go. So she tried the "toddler" tactic, trying to raise her arms and throw her weight down so that she would slide though his embrace but she forgot one important fact. She wasn't a toddler. She was a grown woman. And grown women had breasts. Breasts made sliding through a tight hold impossible and a little painful in the attempt. Skinner bent his knees to readjust his hold around her waist and hauled her towards the helicopter, which had begun to come to life as the pilot began the start-up procedure. "No!" Scully screamed. "Let me go! Damn you, Skinner! Let me go, you bastard!" With a hand from Chris, Skinner managed to get himself and Scully into the body of the air ship without having to let her go. Once inside, he sat down, pulling Scully into his lap. He knew she would jump if she could. Even as the air ship lifted off the ground, he feared she might jump. Scully still struggled against his hold, legs kicking, back arching, until finally Skinner felt her collapse against him, her head falling back onto his shoulder. Skinner loosened his hold on her as her shoulders heaved up and down and he realized that she was sobbing uncontrollably, the sound of her crying barely audible over the sound of the chopper blades. Skinner felt a stinging sensation come to his own eyes in response to her pain. He wanted to comfort her. To let her know that she wasn't alone. There was so much he wanted to tell her. All he could do for her at that moment though, was hold her. He buried his face in the wild mess of her hair as her head lay back on his supportive shoulder and hoped that she could feel the love he felt for her through the hatred he knew she felt for him. * * * * No one had made any official declarations yet. No one dared. Still, no one thought that this would turn out with a happy ending. After all, it had been two weeks since Scully had returned from California and a little over a month and a half from the day it was estimated that Mulder had disappeared. Scully hadn't returned to work yet. She couldn't bear it, in fact, she wanted to tell the entire FBI and the whole lousy government to piss off. She made up her mind to do just that one evening and finally slipped into a fitful sleep. She soon found herself wandering through a dreamscape devoid of anything except the sound of her beating heart and a soft, ever-blowing wind. She wandered through the blackness searching. She dared not call out, for fear that at that precise moment, he would call out too and she would miss it. Her wandering was aimless at first. . .then more purposeful, as if the soft tendrils of mist were guiding here, gently wrapping moist arms about her wrists, leading her. She let herself be pulled ever so gently, for she had no direction of her own in mind and the urge to follow overwhelmed her. When she heard a sound, low and very distant, she froze in mid- step. She craned her neck to the side, listening intently, not moving, not breathing. . .and there it was again. She took a few quick steps towards the direction from which she thought it came and then stopped to listen again. The mist was beginning to swirl more wildly about her and the increased volume of the wind made what she was listening for harder to hear. Then again, a sound not borne of the wind. Louder this time, more distinct. She took a few more running steps, stopped and listened again. It sounded like, "Uhhhhhhhh eeeeee. . ." Yes, it was definitely getting louder and she ran towards it. "Uhhhhhhhlllleeeeee. . . ." She ran full speed, her arms taking wide strokes in front of her as she fruitlessly tried to push the ever enclosing mist away so that she might see better where she was going. The closer she felt she was getting, the louder another sound grew. A ringing sound began to crack violently threw the air, thundering inside her head, bouncing off her cranium. "Ssss. . .Scuulllleee. . . ." "Mulder!" "Scully. . ." "Mulder, I'm here!" The ringing caused her ears to throb with the pain off overload. "Mulder, where are you!? MULDER!!" Scully doubled over in pain, her hands covering her ears. The ringing! Now there was a pounding as well! It had to stop, had to stop had to-- Scully woke up fighting the blankets on Mulder's bed that had wrapped themselves around her, binding her firmly. When she finally managed to kick her self free she realized that someone was pounding on the door. The sudden ring of her cell phone, which, for some reason was lying on the floor on the opposite side of the room, caused her to jump. Without making a conscious decision, she went for the door first, grabbing her gun from inside the night stand as she went. When she peered through the keyhole, she lowered her weapon immediately. She undid the series of locks with haste and let the door swing wide, revealing an anxious looking Skinner, hand poised in mid knock, cell phone to his ear. He quickly pulled the phone away and pressed END and Scully's own cell phone stopped ringing. "Thirty more seconds, " Skinner told her, "And I would have broken the door down." She didn't ask him how he knew that she was at Mulder's apartment and not her own. Scully just stared at him expectantly, then they both said, at the same time, though Scully in question and Skinner in affirmation, "They found him." * * * The time it took to travel back to Northern California had been the most excruciating time Scully had ever experienced. When they reached Redwood Memorial Hospital, Skinner couldn't help but laugh lightly as he tried to keep Scully from running full speed through the halls. When he reached for her arm though, she moved quickly from his reach. "I think it's this way," Scully said, and turned down a hall. She counted room numbers as she jogged along. "Twenty three, twenty five, twenty seven. This is it," she finally announced, and there she stopped. Her trembling hand reached for the door handle, but couldn't move beyond that. What would she find behind that door? Skinner took the initiative for her, reaching around her from behind and turning the handle. He gave the door a slight push, then stood back, waiting for Scully to go in. When she didn't, he gently pushed her. Scully closed her eyes as she allowed herself to be propelled forward and when she opened them, let out the breath she had been holding. There he was, complete in body if not in mind. The latter of which she couldn't know for he was still unconscious. Skinner gave her another gentle thrust forward with his hand on her back and she suddenly remembered that she had legs. Scully took to Mulder's bedside, where she remained for the rest of that day, and halfway into the night. It wasn't until around one AM that Mulder finally opened his eyes. The first drawling moan out of his mouth was, "Ullleee." Scully smiled, leaning closer to him as she sat in the chair beside the bed. She covered his hand with hers. "I'm here," she told him. "I'm glad," he slurred, then closed his eyes with a smile. By the next day, Mulder was so close to being back to normal that the nurses couldn't wait to get rid of him. He was being such a pain in the ass. He was the worst patient. He complained so much about his eyes hurting that one exasperated RN gave him her own sunglasses. "I don't know how you put up with him, Mrs. Mulder," the nurse muttered as she walked out. Scully almost choked on her own saliva at that. "Oh, he can be really charming when there are no bees around." She smiled at him. "Mrs. Mulder?" he questioned. "Yeah, I guess they got the wrong idea from somewhere." "But I noticed that you didn't correct her." He was wearing sunglasses, but she could still see him waggling his eyebrows at her over the rims. "Yeah, well," Scully starting as nonchalantly as she could, "she was already walking away and besides, I'll take any sympathy from being subjected to you where I can get it." Then it was Scully's turn to waggle her eyebrows at him. "Gee, Scully, you sure know how to kick a guy when he's down," Mulder quipped. Later theat day, Mulder was released from the hospital after the doctor found nothing wrong with his eyes. Sensitivity to light after a prolonged absence from it was what they determined, and gladly sent him on his way. So Mulder kept on the free sunglasses and didn't even try to take them off until they made it back to Dulles International Airport. As Scully pushed him along in a wheelchair (her idea, not his) he tested his eyes by peering over the rims of the glasses. "It's strange, Scully. Everything seems so much brighter." "It's your pupils. They're just a little dilated. It'll go away." "But they don't hurt as much. You think it was just because I was probably in the dark for so long?" "That's the most logical explanation," Scully grunted as she pushed him up a ramp. At the top of the ramp, Mulder stood up. "I can walk the rest of the way. Jesus, Scully, you're going to spoil me. And then you'd REALLY think I was a pain in the ass." "I already do, Mulder. Sit down." "No dice," he said firmly, "but here." He tuned the chair around for her. "No thank you." Before she could move, he quickly turned her about, and with hands pressing on her shoulders, pushed her into the chair. He then swivled it around again and began pushing her towards the entrance. "This is silly, Mulder. Some people actually NEED these chairs." She tried to get up, but he wouldn't stop pushing, and she didn't want to fall on her face. She gave up with a light hearted laugh and sat back. So what if a series of totally bizarre events just happened to them? He was with her again and damn it, she was going to enjoy that fact while she still could, before They started screwing with their lives again. Scully drove them to his apartment, and in an act of reverse chivalry, opened the car door for him. Mulder stretched as she got a small suitcase from the truck of the car. She walked up to the front door of his building and turned to him. "Are you coming?" He was testing his eyes again, lowering the glasses ever so tentatively, peering up at the sky. "Hmmm. . ." Scully waited patiently. "Hmm?" Mulder pulled the glasses down lower onto the end of his nose. "Wow." "Wow?" "Strange." "What?" She waited for him to look at her and explain what he was experiencing. She took a deep breath of the crisp air and turned her face into the sun for a moment. That's when Mulder finally looked over at her. His jaw dropped and he whipped the glasses off his face completely. Scully opened her eyes and saw him staring speechless at her. Her brow furrowed in classic Scully fashion. "What is it? Are you in pain?" "Scully. . . " Mulder began. "Yeah?" she asked, tentatively. Mulder tossed the glasses aside, causing Scully to glance off after them, a look of bewilderment in her eyes. She looked back at Mulder and started to say something about throwing a pair of perfectly good sunglasses into the street when Mulder stepped forward and cupped her cheek, then ran his hand through her hair. Scully couldn't move, couldn't breath. She felt her pulse quicken and her skin burned like fire where he touched her. She looked into his eyes, but he was looking at her hair. "Mulder. . .," she said, barely above a whisper. Mulder delicately played with the shining strands of her auburn locks, bringing his other hand up to her face as well. When he finally looked into her crystal blue eyes, his own were welling with tears, and a soft smile played on his lips. "Red, Scully." "What?" "I can see it." Mulder choked back what could only be a sob of joy and he looked up into the sky. Then he looked all around him, never letting Scully go. "The leaves are green, Scully. The bricks of my building. . .The grass. . . .Blue is even brighter and bluer than I-" and he trailed off as his eyes came to rest on her face again. He always knew that most men were attracted to Scully right off the bat, but until this moment, he had never truly appreciated why. "I can see what they saw. . .but, Scully, I loved you before I knew." She opened her mouth so say something, ask something, but just like the time in his hallway, before the bee, before Antarctica, no words could come. Mulder laughed slightly and her sudden case of speechlessness. One thing he loved about her- she became speechless at the most opportune times. He let his hands drop from her face and took her small hand in his. "Come on. Let's go inside. I'll tell you everything." Scully felt nervous as she opened his apartment door for him. Intellectually, she had already put together what he was going to tell her had happened to him. She was a smart woman after all, yet she was afraid of where they were going to go from here. She decided to let things play themselves out on their own terms and see where things led them. Mulder shed his jacket and headed towards his bedroom. He needed to change. Scully did a quick, panicked double take. "Oh, uh, Mulder! Wait, I " she tried to get past him, but he opened the door first. Mulder smiled at what he saw. He walked into the room and circumnavigated it, taking in all the things he found. Her pajamas thrown haphazardly on his bed, her brush and other personal items on his bureau and his bed sheets obviously slept in. He smiled at her in the most amused, and endeared way and brushed past her, going towards the bathroom. He smiled again when he saw her things there as well. When he came back out, he found her in the bedroom, quickly throwing her things into a bag. "What are you doing?" he asked. "Cleaning up," she answered quickly. He knew she was embarrassed, but there was no need. "I forgot. I was going to have it, I just, Skinner showed up, I left so quickly." "Leave it." She continued to gather her things. When she reached for her pajamas, Mulder gently took hold of her wrist. "Leave it." "I have to " "Leave it." Scully looked at him in what she hoped would appear to be a calm stance, but her open mouth and quickened breath gave her away. It always did. . .and it always turned him on. He never told her that. He valued his life. Instead, he smiled at her again, and led her into the living room. He sat with her on the couch and waited until she was able to look up at him. When she did, there were tears in her eyes. "I thought I'd never see you again," she started. "Scully, you don't have to explain it to me." "I just " "I understand. And I'm honored, Scully. . .no, touched, more than I could ever put to words that you wanted to feel that close to me while I was gone." He took her hand in his. "I never told you this, but when you were taken from me the first time, I wore your cross. I had to put it on another chain so it would fit, but I wore it the entire time. It was like I was carrying a part of you no matter where I went. The night Melissa called to tell me that you were waking up, I put it back on your chain and went charging to the hospital like a lunatic. It's a wonder I didn't get pulled over." Scully couldn't help but smile at that. The tears, which had only threatening to fall now rolled freely down her cheeks. "I needed to feel you," she finally admitted, her voice shaky. "I needed to draw strength from the essence of you, to feel it around me, comforting me. I thought I'd never see you again." She finished her last sentence in a whisper. Mulder gently touched her cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb, then he gathered her in his arms, crying softly with her. They needed this release, and they both took full advantage of the moment, gently rocking each other in a warm, comforting embrace. When Scully finally looked into his eyes again, she asked plainly, "What do you see, Mulder?" He smiled again, as the joy of his change came to the forefront again. He brought one hand that had been holding her up to her hair again and ran his fingers through it. "I see red, Scully. Red and green. I see all the colors. I see them brighter than ever. You're hair. . .your eyes. . .your lips. . ." he trailed off at that point, her lips completely captivating him. He leaned in slowly. "Mulder," was the last thing Scully whispered as his lips joined hers in a soft, lingering kiss. They gazed at each other momentarily, then he took her face in both hands, kissing her again with more urgency. Their bodies then melded into one as the kiss deepened. His tongue sought entrance and her lips parted to allow it. He gently pushed her back onto the couch with his body and her legs wrapped around him, pulling him closer. For his own part, his hands grasped at her with an intensity so strong, he didn't think he could ever let her go. A funny thought came to Mulder in spite of himself, and he smiled against her lips. "What?" she whispered. He shook his head and kissed her again. When they finally broke for air, he explained. "I was just remembering a funny line from an old Marx brothers film. It was 'If I was any closer to you I'd be behind you'." He laughed lightly. "I love you, Mulder," Scully said suddenly, silencing his laugh immediately. "You know," he started, "that's the first time you ever told me that." "I should have told you sooner." "It's okay." "I'm not good at it. Telling people I love them, I mean." Mulder let out a slight chortle, "Ha, yeah, well, neither am I so " "But you told me. You told me and I didn't believe you. And then nothing. At first I thought you said it because of the Demerol. Then I thought you didn't say it again because of the way I blew it off. I'm sorry " "Don't even think about apologizing, Scully. It's not like either of us are good at this. And I think we're both WAY out of practice. So how about we both just say we love each other and go from there?" She couldn't think of anything to say to that, so she just kissed him. That suited him just fine as he ran his hand down her neck and over her breast, gently fondling it through her shirt. Then lower, down her side, cupping her bottom, squeezing it slightly, eliciting a moan from deep within her. When their lips parted, he moved to her neck, nuzzling her warm skin that smelled of violets and honey. She gasped as his lips blazed a trail. She arched up to him, her own hands mindlessly running up and down his well muscled back. That's when one lucid thought finally seeped its way into her foggy mind. "You can see red and green, Mulder?" Mulder looked up at her, a sparkle in his eyes, laughing slightly at the fact that she had finally caught up. "Yes, it appears that I am now color-blind free." "How?" "How?" he echoed. Then with a slight shrugged he asked, "How did Cassandra Spender become able to walk again?" "They healed you," Scully said, not in question, but in statement. "But why?" "I don't know, and I'm not going to question it." With that, he got up from off of her, but before she could question him, he had scooped her up into his arms and was carrying her to the bedroom. He lay her down on the mattress (no longer a water bed) and picked up where they had left off, his lips gently sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin on her neck, while one free hand went to work unbuttoning her blouse. Scully, for her part, couldn't think. She was carried away into another realm by his touch. That, plus she hadn't been with a man for just over six years and was rather unsure of herself. This was Mulder, for gosh sake! She couldn't quite believe it was even happening. She was almost afraid that if she touched him, the illusion would pop, and she'd wake up alone in his bed again, and he'd still be gone. A sudden rush of pleasure shook her from her momentary lapse of non-action as she realized he had undone her pants and had his hand in them, fingering her most sensitive bundle of nerves. This thrust her into action and suddenly she couldn't get enough of him. Her hands raked up and down his back while she applied her own ministrations to his neck. She blindly pulled at his shirt, pulling it from his pants and them up, kissing his now bared chest. Mulder quickly pulled it the rest of the way off of him and pulled at her blouse. She leaned forward off the bed so he could remove it. The rest of their clothing were similarly dispatched until they lay naked in each other's arms. There were no more words to be said. There was nothing but exploring hands and lips, interrupted by the occasional gasp or moan. He worked his way down, first to each breast, then her stomach, until he reached her center. At first she resisted as he tried to gently spread her legs to him. She felt a rush of panicked uncertainty, of not wanting to loose control-- her control that she coveted like nothing else. He simply said, "It's me," and that was all she needed. She trusted this man. He was the only one she trusted, and she was the only one he trusted and as she opened up to him, she thought, "I found my soul mate," and gasped in shock when she heard his voice in her head reply, "And I found mine." She threw her head back as his lips and tongue skillfully went to work. One hand touched his head, not guiding him, but just wanting to feel him, and the other grasped at the head board for dear life. Damn he was good at this. Years of enduring his well noted oral fixation in the form of sunflower seed shells everywhere had paid off for her in a big way. She cried out in pleasure as first one, then two of his fingers enter her slick core, their thrusting movements matching the movement of his tongue. She tried to hold still for him, but found that impossible. Her back arched, and her other hand flew up to the head board, slamming it hard as the most powerful orgasm she had ever had rocked her body. When she finally came down from her post orgasmic high, he was up nuzzling her neck again. When she had caught her breath, she whispered, "Need you," in his ear, and reached between them, to take him into her hand. He felt hot and rock hard and she realized that he must have been experiencing a little bit of pain in his valiant restraint. She meant to relieve him of tha t pain. Now. She guided him into her and he let out a moan of pleasure. A few quick, short thrusts and he was in her completely, and there he held himself for a moment. When he felt her muscles adjust to his size and relax around him, he began to move, slowly at first. He wanted this to last. If he had his way, he would make this last for hours, but he had wanted her for so long, had waited for so long that he knew it wasn't going to last as long as that, and her insistent moans of pleasure and encouragement to go faster, harder, were making restrain a near impossibility. The slow pace quickly picked up, his thrusts becoming deeper and faster until he was pounding into her, their bodies making a slapping sound with each forceful thrust as skin met skin. He could feel himself approaching the point of no return, as he called it, and buried his face in the crook of her neck as his movements reached a fevered pitch. He cried out her name as she brought her legs higher up around him, giving him even greater access. She cried out his name in return, driving him wild. With his last coherent thought, he reached between them and fingered her clit, bringing her over the edge with him as he felt the waves of his own powerful orgasm wash over him, through him, through the both of them. Then he collapsed, his head on her chest, as they both gasped huge gulps of air. When he started to move off of her so that he wasn't crushing her, she held him there. She still wanted to feel the weight of him for a bit longer. Eventually he moved off of her and pulled her to him in the classic "spoons" position, the both of them drifting off into the most peaceful sleep they had ever experienced in the past seven years. * * * * * To say that Mulder and Scully had gone domestic was an inaccurate assessment. They incorporated the new dimension of their personal relationship within the frame-work of the one that already existed. Work was work, but nights. . .nights belonged to them. At work, they were living the waiting game again, but this time, they filled the waiting with the kind of living they had only dreamed about for so long. Life had gone on for about a month like this and nothing new that would help further their ultimate cause came to light. They sat in a meeting one morning playing the parts of the dutiful agents, not really listening to what anyone was saying. It was all bullshit anyway, any they felt like they were the only ones who knew it. But this was the part they had to play if they were to be in the most powerful position they could be when another situation important to the grander scheme of things presented itself. Mulder idly tapped his pencil on the note pad in front of him while Scully made a show of writing notes, like she was even paying attention. Mulder smiled because he knew what was really going on in her head because he could sense it, an after effect of the pre-Ivory Coast events that never really went away. Suddenly though, Scully's thoughts changed, and Mulder's head snapped to looked at her due to the intensity of the sudden shift. "Are you alright?" he whispered. Scully dropped her pen and stared urgently at the door, her face gone totally pale. "Scully?" he whispered, more urgently. Skinner glanced over at them from across the table. Kersh, sitting further down, afforded them an annoyed glance, but that was all he afforded them. They weren't his concern anymore. Let Skinner deal with it. Scully suddenly stood, pushing her chair back so quickly, it fell backwards, and she rushed from the room. Mulder jumped up and ran after her, and Skinner, for his part, managed to stay seated for about thirty seconds more before jumping up as well. "Excuse me," he told the room, and hurried out. When he got to the hall he couldn't see them. He pulled aside a young agent who was walking in his direction, but glancing back the other way. "Did you see where a male and female agent went? She has red hair." "Yeah," the young man said, indicating the direction in which he had been glancing. "The blew by me like bats out of hell. They went into that rest room at the end of the hall." Skinner thanked the man and went to the rest room door, but he didn't go in. He waited for them to come out. Inside the bathroom, Scully kneeled by a toilet while Mulder held her hair back as she lost her entire breakfast to the porcelain god. When she seemed to have no more to give, Mulder pulled a wad of toilet tissue from the roll and handed it to her. She wiped of watered eyes and blew her nose. "I'm sorry," she told him. "For what? For being sick? Don't be ridiculous." She sat down on the floor, her back to the side wall of the bathroom stall, as he sat opposite of her, his hands on her knees. He waited for her to gather herself, a look of concern in his eyes. She took a few deep gulps of air as she willed her stomach to settle. "I'm going to take you home," he finally told her. To her credit, she didn't argue with him or insist that she was fine. Instead she told him, "That's probably a good idea," and let him help her up. As the left the restroom, the ran head on into an anxious Skinner. "Scully seems to have a touch of stomach flu," Mulder told him. "I'm taking her home." When Mulder had Scully home and settled into bed, he boiled some water for some tea. He ran to her bathroom when he heard her in there, throwing up again. As he crouch down beside her, pulling her hair back, he told her, "Maybe I should take you to the doctor." "I'll be fine, Mulder. It just feels like what you said, the stomach flu. I just have a case of a common virus, I'm sure. In fact, you better get out of her before you catch it." Mulder smiled. "Scully, in light of last night and this morning, if you have anything that's catching, I've already got it." "Then you should go back to work while you're still able to. We left some unfinished reports in the office." Mulder tried to argue the point of staying with her for a few moments longer and finally gave in when she was literally pushing him out the door. "Okay, I'm going but I'm coming back at lunch." With that he was off, thinking smartly to himself that he lied and would be back in just as long as it took him to grab those unfinished reports from their office and get back here. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to get past Skinner, who ran into him just as he was getting onto the elevator. "How is she?" "She'll be fine." "The meeting's still going on. You can just catch the tail end of it and present your portion." Mulder groaned inwardly. "Great," he muttered under his breath, and followed Skinner back to the conference room. When he was finally free to go back to the office and gather the files, he nearly crashed into Scully as he was on his way out. "What are you doing here?" he asked her angrily. "The strangest thing," she began. "Whatever it was just sort of played itself out and now I feel fine. Come on," she said, brushing past him back into the office. "Let's finish those reports and grab some lunch. I'm starving." Mulder stood where he was, mouth agape. He closed it, then opened it to say something, couldn't think of what to say, so closed it again. With a confused sigh, he shrugged his shoulder and joined her inside, closing the door behind him. Aside from the fact that they were not in a meeting, the next morning played itself out much as did the previous morning. This time, however, Mulder refused to let Scully come back to the office and stayed at her apartment with her just to be sure. By around 11 o'clock, she was insisting that she was fine. At around noon she scarfed down two peanut butter and honey sandwiches, two apples and half a pint of frozen non-fat vanilla rice dream. Mulder, for his part, just watch her in awe, scared to hell because he didn't understand what was wrong with her. The next morning, things went a little different. As they sat in the office at their perspective desks, Scully quietly got up and drifted out the door at around 9:30. Mulder didn't realize that she was gone for at least five minutes, at which point he went into a panic. He ran straight for the tiny little bathroom at the end o the basement hall, but she had locked the door. "Scully," he called, knocking on the door and jiggling the handle. "Just a second," she called, sounding impressively normal, betrayed only seconds later by the sound of retching. Mulder quietly, and impatiently fumed on the other side of the door until she finally unlocked it and walked out past him as if nothing was amiss. This infuriated Mulder even more. He caught up with her and grabbed hold of her arm. "I'm fine, Mulder," she told him, and tried to free her arm, but he held tight, and pulled her up short. "Bullshit. You think I don't know what your 'I'm fine' means by now? I'm taking you to the hospital." "No." "Yes!" "No, Mulder!" She yanked her arm hard enough to free herself then walked away. She beat him back to the office and shut the door. Mulder grabbed the door knob and turned, but she had locked it.. He gave an annoyed grimace and dug his keys from his pocket. When he opened the door, She sat at his desk, elbows resting on the top, face in hands. He sat in the chair on the opposite side, the chair where she had often sat before they got their office back. Before he had gotten her a desk, and waited. When she finally looked at him, she was crying. He leaned forward, held back only by the desk separating them. "I'm afraid, Mulder. I'm afraid what they'll tell me." "Have you had any nose bleeds?" "No. No, but I have only been in remission for a short time. It takes five years. FIVE years, Mulder, for them to consider you cancer free. To consider you cured." Here her voice began to falter. "I'm so scared of what they'll have to say to me, Mulder." She said his name like it was a call for help. He was up immediately, and by her side, holding her. "I'll be right there beside you, Scully. You're not alone." And he was true to his word. They sat together in the room and waited for the doctor to come back with the news. Good news, hopefully. There was a soft knock on the door, and the doctor stuck her head in. She smiled at Dana and Dana smiled back. "Well," she started but was interrupted. "What's wrong with me?" Scully asked, brows furrowed with worry, Mulder's expression matching hers. The doctor couldn't help but smile. "Nothing's WRONG with you, Dana. You're pregnant." Mulder let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "But she can't-" then it dawned on him and he stared gaped jawed at Scully, who stared gape jawed at him. Without a word, they both jumped up. Scully turned her back to him and lifted her hair, and Mulder took a good look at her neck. He ran his thumb over her perfect skin. When he let out a choked, "Oh my god," Scully turned back around to face him. "It's gone?" Scully asked, her breath catching in her chest. Mulder was beyond words and could only nod, tears welling in his eyes, and a ridiculously happy smile forming on his lips. "Oh my god," Scully breathed as the reality sunk in. The enfolded each other in a tearful, yet joyful embrace as they thought to each other in unison: "Color blindness isn't the only thing that was cured." END Coming soon.....Red, the Continuance.