Title:  To Love Somebody
By:  Tess and Jacquie LaVa

*****************

~ Chapter Five ~

My hand searched blindly across the floor for the phone that I had
dropped.  I wrapped my fingers around the slick plastic casing and
lifted the phone back to my ear.

"Mulder?"  I listened for a moment before I realized that he wasn't
on the line any more and I fumbled for the off button.  He was on his
way over here.  Oh God.  If I hadn't felt nauseous before, I
certainly did now.

I don't know what I was thinking when I picked up the phone to call
him at two o'clock in the morning.  The truth was that I wasn't
thinking - I was reacting.  I had been feeling so good all week.  It
had felt wonderful to be back at work and a productive member of
society and I wasn't prepared when the nausea had started shortly
after I had eaten dinner.  I spent a few minutes trying to convince
myself that I had simply eaten something that had disagreed with me,
but I've become very much attuned to my body and I recognized this
symptom even as I tried to deny it.  When the headache began to pound
behind my eyes a short while later, I knew that my week-long reprieve
was over.

When it got to be too bad, when the fear became overwhelming, I
picked up the phone to call Mulder.  Lillian's soft voice when I had
been expecting Mulder's middle-of-the-night mumble had thrown me for
a loop.  I can honestly say that it never occurred to me that she
would be sharing Mulder's bed when I broke down and called him.  In
the last week or so, Lillian had dropped off my radar.  

From the moment Mulder had pressed his lips to mine last week, I
have been hyperaware of him in a way that I had never been before. 
His mouth had tugged lightly at mine and I had buried my fingers in
the springy warmth of his hair and when our lips parted, I had looked
cautiously into his eyes, searching for a sign - for something that
would tell me that he had kissed me as an expression of pity or of
sorrow.  But his eyes had been clear and honest when he told me that
he kissed me because we needed it; that he had kissed me because he
had wanted to.

I had fallen in love with him...  Not at that moment - no.  But like
a princess in a fairy tale, it had taken just the brush of his mouth
over mine to make me realize that I had loved him for years; that I
had loved him in a way that I'd never loved before.  For so long
now he had been the first thing I thought of when I awoke in the
morning and it was his face that I'd see when I drifted off to sleep
at
the end of the day.

I'd spent the past week basking in the warmth of his company,
soaking in the pleasure of being the center of his attention as we
whiled away the hours in his basement office.  I spent five days
enjoying the happy smile that was plastered to his face whenever he
turned to look at me while we worked.  I had foolishly mistaken the
joyful gleam in his eyes to be a reciprocation of my feelings.

It had taken Lillian's soft, sweet voice to shake my fantasy loose
and to bring the truth to life.  I fought down a bitter swell of
jealousy as I pictured her lying in Mulder's bed, wrapped in his
arms.  When she answered the phone, her voice had been sleepy. 
Sated?  The pounding behind my eyes seemed to increase.

Now, he was on his way over to my apartment and the thought of
facing him was... mortifying.  I felt raw, exposed - the pain and the
nausea leaving me ill equipped to hide my feelings from him.  I
stumbled into the bathroom as another wave of sickness swept over me
and when it passed I leaned shakily against the porcelain sink and
studied my face in the mirror above it.  I was a mess.  I soaked a
washcloth under the cold-water tap and held it to my face for a long
moment then I used my toothbrush to scrub the bitter taste from my
mouth.  Snapping off the bathroom light, I stepped out into the
hallway and slumped wearily against the wall.  The simple act of
washing my face and brushing my teeth had wiped me out and I crawled
back to the living room on my hands and knees.

I climbed onto the sofa and gratefully stretched out on the
overstuffed cushions.  I eyed the prescription bottle of pain
medication that was lying open on the coffee table and then I
squinted at the watch on my wrist.  I had already exceeded the dosage
amount, but I might as well have been swallowing baby aspirin for all
the good the pills were doing.  My eyes were burning with the strain
of trying to hold them open. I closed them with a sigh of relief
and fretfully rubbed my fingertips against the bridge of my nose.  

I never heard my door open and I was unaware of Mulder entering my
home until he touched me with gentle hands.

"Scully?"  His fingers stroked down my arm and he lightly squeezed
me above the elbow.  His voice took on a panicked edge as he called
my name again.

"Scully?  Can you hear me?"  He groaned softly and his hands clamped
onto my arms as he gently shook me.  "God!  Scully, please - wake
up!" His voice was pleading and I struggled to lift heavy lashes to
see him.  His face was frantic and a smile wobbled on his lips when
his eyes made contact with mine.

"Oh thank God!" he exclaimed.  My eyes slid closed again for a
moment and I drew in a fortifying breath as I gathered my strength in
order to open them again.  All of the joy that I had associated with
him this week had been drained from his face as I watched his gaze
sweep over me.  I saw the shimmer of tears in his eyes when he
noticed the towel that I had spread over the cushions of my sofa in
an attempt to protect them from the nosebleeds.

"Oh, Scully," he moaned sadly as he rose from where he had been
crouching.  Bending over, he scooped me into his arms and sank down
onto the sofa, settling me into his lap.  "Should I take you to the
hospital?" he asked quietly. I shook my head and burrowed my face
into his neck and inhaled deeply to fill my lungs with his scent. 
The pain that lanced through my heart rivaled the relentless
throbbing behind my eyes as the musky aroma that clung to his skin
assailed me and once again I was left to wonder what I had
interrupted when I had called him. Weakly, I pushed against his
shoulders, trying to force him to let go of me, but he simply curled
his hand around the back of my head and tightened the arm that was
wrapped around my waist.  His grip was gentle, yet purposeful and
within seconds, I was once again slumped against him.  His body
shifted almost imperceptibly as he rocked me in his arms and I let
his wordless, crooning murmurs wash over me.  I lifted one arm and
wrapped it around his shoulder.  I settled my cheek more comfortably
against his chest and my breathing fell into concert with his as I
was soothed by the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath me.

I was drifting, caught somewhere between sleep and wakefulness,
between pain and peace when the nausea struck again.  I clapped a
hand over my mouth and pushed ineffectually against him.

"Scully, where are you going?" he asked as he tried to pull me back
into his arms.  I shook my head violently and cried out as a fresh
wave of pain burst behind my eyes at my sudden movement.

"Sick!" I gasped, stumbling to my feet as he finally loosened his
grip on me.  I staggered dizzily for a second and Mulder wrapped his
arms around me and carried me into the bathroom.  I fell to my knees
next to the toilet and shuddered as I hung my head over the bowl. 
The bitter taste of bile rose in my throat, but my stomach had long
ago been emptied and I hung my head as I was wracked by the dry
heaves.  Mulder crouched beside me and rubbed a soothing hand over my
back and his voice was a low murmur of gentle compassion and support.

"It's okay," he whispered continually.  "You're going to be
all right."  I concentrated on the sound of his voice until the
violent
shudders faded.  Exhausted, I fell back on my heels and kept my chin
pressed into my chest.  Although I was grateful for his presence, I
couldn't bear to look at him - to see the sadness and fear on his
face.  I shouldn't have called him, I thought miserably.  Less than
an hour ago he had been sleeping soundly in his bed, in his
girlfriend's arms no doubt, and now he was kneeling on the cold tile
of my bathroom floor in the middle of the night.  I reached out and
tore a wad of toilet paper from the roll and gingerly blew my nose,
surreptitiously checking for blood; grateful when there was none.  I
reached up and grabbed the edge of the sink for support as Mulder
helped me to my feet.  He filled a cup with water and I took it from
him, rinsing my mouth out.

"Tired?" he asked softly.  When I nodded, he lifted me into his arms
again and carried me into the bedroom, setting me down in the middle
of the bed.  He sank down on the edge of the bed and smoothed the
hair back from my forehead.

"I wish you would let me take you to the hospital," he said
imploringly.  I sighed and shook my head, nestling my hot cheek into
the cool cotton of the pillow beneath it.  

"Won't help," I whispered.  "Please, don't make me go."  The
headache raged unabated and I kept my eyes closed, feeling, rather
than seeing him inch closer.

"When are you due to take your next pain-killer?" he asked and I
felt him shift as if he was preparing to go into the other room for
the small plastic bottle lying on my coffee table.

"I can't take another one until morning," I rasped as I grabbed his
hand and pulled him back onto the mattress.  He moved closer to me and
gathered my hands in his.  

"I know the side effects of the treatments are horrible," he
murmured as he stroked his thumbs over the backs of my hands.  "But
the treatments are necessary if you're going to beat this thing."  I
fought off the urge to tell him the truth - that the treatments
weren't working - but I held back.  The doctors hadn't admitted it
yet, but I knew - somehow I knew - that I was fighting a losing
battle.  My body was weakening and I realized that
I needed to begin to prepare Mulder for the inevitable.  But not
tonight, I told myself.  I don't have the strength to tell him
tonight...  

His fingers had begun to trace tiny patterns over my forehead and I
felt his weight press lightly into me as he leaned over me.  His
breath stirred the hair near my temple and then he brushed his lips
over my brow, just as he had in the corridor of a hospital in
Allentown, Pennsylvania and just as he had done countless times since
that night.  He pressed his mouth warm and tender on the skin between
my eyebrows, just above the place where the tumor was growing fast
and strong.  Miraculously I felt the pain ebb and with each whispered
kiss, my limbs relaxed into the sheets beneath my body as sleep
finally crept forward to claim me.

Long moments passed and I was nearly asleep when I felt Mulder begin
to ease away from me.  "Good night," he whispered softly as he sat
up.  I reached out quickly and clutched his wrist tightly.

"Don't leave," I begged sleepily.  I pried open drowsy eyes at the
soft sound of his sneakers thudding onto the floor and then he was
sliding into the bed beside me.

"Go to sleep," he ordered softly as he curled his body toward mine. 
"I'll stay right here," he promised.  I turned onto my side and
snuggled my cheek into the pillow as I caught his fingers with my own.

"Thank you for coming over," I murmured around a yawn.  My eyes
blinked open again to study his face.  I was reluctant to fall asleep
because I knew that when morning came, I would once again wake up
alone.  But Mulder was determined that I should rest and he stroked
his knuckles over my cheek.

"Sleep," he demanded again in a soft but firm voice.  I was losing
my struggle to stay awake.  My eyes met his and I forced a tired
smile onto my lips and he matched it with one of his own.  I nodded
and curled my body around our joined hands.

"Good night, Mulder," I whispered.  I was asleep before I ever heard
his reply.

*************************

When four o'clock came and went without a sign of Fox or a phone
call, I gave up pacing around the kitchen, and turned out the lights
as I made my way back to the bedroom.  I knew I would not be getting
any more sleep that night, so I picked up the remote and clicked on
the TV.  Never much of a tube watcher, I mostly wanted the
background noise.  And I wasn't in the mood for music.

I sat propped up against a mound of pillows that smelled of my
lover, and I watched an old black and white sci-fi film without even
seeing it, reminding myself several times in an hour or so that Fox
WAS my lover.  Mine, not Dana's.  He had been mine for so long now,
mine in a way that his partner could never compete with - interfere
with.  Yes, it was true that he belonged to Dana in very complicated
patterns, in some place that I could never go.  I felt I had accepted
that - was fine with it.  And I had already admitted to myself that
there was love between them - and it went very deep.  But I could
accept those feelings, as long as they didn't go beyond what I
thought was right and proper between platonic friends.  I could
handle it...

What I could not handle very well was the need I could see in Dana,
and the way Fox reacted to it.  As far as I was concerned the line
between empathy and sympathy was as close as pity and love.  When the
emotions were engaged it didn't matter what their defining edge was -
it all blurred into reactionary responses.  And right now I knew Fox
was being very reactionary.  He saw his best friend in pain - and he
wanted to help, even at the expense of himself.  And Dana couldn't
help the way she cared for him - God, who could?  This is a very
special man.  I would think very few women could resist him - and Fox
didn't even try to attract them; he didn't have to.  He was also
completely unaware of his own appeal.  

I watched a Japanese man run screaming down the middle of a city
street with an enormous, Godzilla-like creature chasing him, and
wondered if a casual observer of my and Fox's relationship would
think I chased him.  Did I come off as needy?  Desperate?  In most
relationships there was usually one who loved, and one who was loved.
I thought back on my past loves, trying to picture the way I was with
those men - trying to remember if I'd ever been the one who was
loved. My shoulders slumped as I realized that I had always done the
loving... and as much as I refused to admit it I knew I was doing the
loving this time, as well.  

I clicked off the stupid movie and slid down into the pillows,
fighting to hold back tears.  I hated feeling sorry for myself, and I
despised feeling petty.  My Gran had raised me better than that.  If
she knew how I resented Dana Scully, she'd flay me alive for my
unkindness.  The last time I'd sought her counsel and advice she'd
warned me not to place Fox in a situation where he would have to
choose.  I understood the wisdom of her caution - if forced to make a
choice I knew Fox would not pick me, not during this critical time in
Dana's illness.  He would sacrifice all his time and his energy for
her and she would gratefully soak it right up.  

I couldn't blame her for it - any more than I could stop myself from
resenting her, and in a very small and very mean part of my mind,
wanting this to just be over.  As soon as that awful thought came to
me, I was truly horrified at the direction I'd been heading.  I
clapped both of my hands over my mouth in shock and sat up abruptly. 
God, I had just wished for a woman to hurry up and pass on so that I
could have my boyfriend back... I had sunk frighteningly low.  So low
that I could begrudge a dying woman the comfort of her best friend -
not only his comfort but any small bit of his time away from me.  I
felt like shit.

Unfortunately, I also felt very human - and fragile, and weak. 
Where had all my hard-won independence gone?  The little orphaned
girl whose Gran had to take her in and play mommy and daddy; whose
well-intentioned love and protectiveness had sometimes gotten heavy-
handed.  I'd been a good girl growing up but I had also struggled
against those velvet bands and had won my right to lose as well as
win... it was all a part of maturing.  And I'd had my share of
winning, and losing.  I always tried to see the positive side of any
event in my life, good or bad.  

This time I couldn't see anything past my own escalating panic, that
the man I loved was in danger of falling for his partner, and would
be too close to the situation to see the blurring of those defining
edges - 

And I would be the ultimate loser.  

With a deep sigh I got out of Fox's bed and dressed in the dark.  I
dragged on my clothes with a heavy heart, knowing exactly where Fox
was at this very moment and what he was doing.  He'd be most likely
sitting on the edge of Dana's bed holding her hand and willing her to
improve - to get stronger.  All of that healing warmth in those
elegant hands of his, draining out of his fingertips and infusing
life through her pale palms.  And when Dana awoke in the morning he'd
be in the same exact spot, still holding her hands... still sharing
his warmth - his life.  I told myself it was the right thing for him
to do - I told myself I was proud of him for being that sort of
wonderful man.  I reminded myself that for now Dana needed him, but
there would come a time when Dana would no longer be here, and when
that day came Fox would be the one lost, and needy - and he'd draw
upon my strength to put himself back together.

I walked out of his apartment feeling better about most everything,
including my brief bout of rotten selfishness - and took a cab home.

***************

I woke up in the morning to find muted sunlight streaming over the
bed.  I stretched, feeling remarkably good considering how
desperately ill I had been only a few hours earlier.  Even more
remarkable was the fact that Mulder was still asleep.  In my bed.  I
pushed myself up onto an elbow and took advantage of the opportunity
to study his face.

His chest rose and fell steadily with his even breathing and his
face was turned towards me.  His eyelashes cast dark shadows on his
cheekbones and his mouth was slightly open.  I wanted to press my
lips to his, to awaken him with my kisses...

I studied him in the clear light of day and I knew that my love for
him was true and strong and not something imagined and wished for in
a moment of pain and weakness.  Over the past four years I had loved
him in every possible way - as partner, friend... as the man I would
willingly die for.  Knowing him has been the most important thing
that has ever happened to me and I wanted so badly to cry out to him
and to the world that I love him.

But I didn't.

It wouldn't be fair.

Mulder didn't need to know that things had changed; that my feelings
for him were stronger and deeper than ever before.  I didn't want him
to feel guilty for not returning my love; nor did I want him to
sacrifice the happy life he had built with Lillian.

I settled back against the pillows and closed my eyes, savoring the
moment, lost in a world of make believe.  I opened them again when
Mulder sighed and shifted, and the moment was lost.  This is not who
we are, I realized.  Long, lazy Saturday mornings snuggling in bed
with Mulder were meant for another woman.  He didn't belong to me.  I
slipped quietly from the bed and pulled a robe over my pajamas.  As
much as I longed to burrow back under the covers and into Mulder's
arms, I didn't want to see the look on his face when he awoke to find
me and not Lillian lying beside him.  And although I knew that Mulder
loved me deeply, I didn't believe that he was in love with me and I
didn't want our sharing a bed to cloud or confuse things for him.  I
understood Mulder well enough to know that it wouldn't take much for
him to take friendship and compassion and mistake it for love.  My
death was going to be agonizing enough for Mulder without him
convincing himself that he had lost the woman he loved.

I washed up quickly in the bathroom and pulled my limp hair into a
loose ponytail before heading to the kitchen to start breakfast.  I
made a small pot of coffee for Mulder and a cup of tea for myself.  I
didn't want to risk upsetting my now steady stomach with the strongly
brewed coffee that Mulder and I both enjoyed.  I was pulling a box of
frozen waffles from the freezer when I heard Mulder's feet thump hard 
onto the floor before the sound of his panicked voice reached me.

"Scully!" he yelled as he moved from room to room.

"I'm in here, Mulder," I called, frowning as I heard the heavy beat
of his bare feet hitting the floor as he hurried into the kitchen.  I
stopped in the act of putting two waffles into the toaster oven,
surprised by the frantic look on his face.

"Mulder?" I asked.  "What is it?  What's wrong?"  I blinked at him
in confusion and gasped when he crossed the room in three long
strides to snatch me into his arms, lifting my feet from the floor.

"I woke up and you were gone," he rasped as he anxiously clamped his
arms around my waist.

"I was hungry," I said in a voice muffled by the soft cotton of his
T-shirt.  A disbelieving laugh rumbled through his chest and he
pulled his head back in order to look down into my face.

"You were hungry?" he asked incredulously.  "But last night you...
I..."  He pulled me closer and I felt a violent shudder go though his
long frame.  One hand cupped the back of my head and he pressed my
face into his chest.

"I was so scared, Scully," he admitted with a bleak look on his
face.  I nodded and rubbed suddenly damp eyes against his cotton
shirt.  

"I know, Mulder," I whispered.  "I know.  I was scared too - that's
why I called you."  I wrapped my arms around his neck for added
balance.  "But I feel so much better this morning," I assured him.

"Stomach's not bothering you?" he queried anxiously.  "Your head..."
I shook my head and smiled when he lowered me so that my feet could
once again touch the floor.  

"I feel good," I promised.

Mulder's shoulders sagged as if a massive burden had been lifted
from them and the relief was evident in the tiny smile he graced me
with.  He cupped my face in his hands and lowered his lips to my
forehead again.  He pressed a lingering kiss against my temple and
then brushed two gentle, whispery kisses to my cheeks before burying
his face in my neck.  He crushed me in his arms and his mouth moved
lightly on the sensitive skin beneath my ear.  His breath both warmed
my skin and tickled and I hunched my shoulders, trying to dislodge
him from the crook of my neck and away from one of the most ticklish
spots on my body.  I felt him lift his mouth from my neck and when I
rapidly turned my head in an attempt at blocking him from tickling me
again, my mouth brushed over his stubbled chin.

Surprised, he stared at me for a moment and then his eyes darkened. 
The hands on either side of my face moved and tilted my head back and
he kept his eyes locked on mine as he lowered his mouth to brush over
my lips - once softly and a second time with a little nip as he
lightly bit my bottom lip.  When his tongue darted out to tease the
corner of my lips, I turned my head, blindly seeking his mouth with
my own.  Mulder's grip on me changed again as he tilted my head back
even further and he bent nearly in half as his lips began to move
over mine in a series of soft, drugging kisses.  In some distant part
of my mind, warning bells were ringing, but they were muted when his
tongue slipped out to trace a slick path over my lips before pushing
against my teeth, begging for entrance.

"Mulder..." I groaned as my hands came up to clamp around his
wrists.  I don't know if I was trying to push him away or hold him
tight but as his name slipped out of me on a long, low groan, he slid
his tongue into my mouth, rubbing it lightly, teasingly against my
own.  In a heartbeat the kiss changed from sweetly inquisitive to
greedy as I released his wrists to clutch fistfuls of his hair.

I gasped when I felt him lift me onto the table and my legs fell
apart naturally as he stepped between them.  I used my grip on his
hair to pull his face down and he moved closer to me as he shifted to
keep his balance.  His hands fell away from my face and I shuddered
when I felt them trace patterns across the silky material of the
pajama
bottoms that were stretched over my thighs before he skimmed his
fingertips over my hips and along my ribcage.  I should send him
away, I thought - as my nipples tightened in anticipation of his warm
hands on my breasts.  I should send him away, but I couldn't.  I
didn't want to.  I felt more alive in the moments since he had first
caught my mouth with his own than I had in months... more alive than
I'd felt in years.  I loved this man and I told myself that I wanted
this... I needed this - just once.  Just one time before I die...

**************** 

Hours later, in my own apartment sitting slumped over my own sofa, I
would shake my head in bewilderment at what happened between Scully
and me in her kitchen that morning - what we almost did.  I would
wonder aloud at the power of desperation, any kind of desperation -
and shudder again in reaction to that moment when I awakened in her
bed and she was not there.  

I had never been so frightened in all of my life as I had been last
night when I held her pale and trembling in my arms after she'd been
so violently ill in her bathroom.  Dry heaves - the worst.  She'd had
nothing left to vomit up, which in itself was scary - no water,
nothing.  She'd been dehydrated for God knew how long, and in her
weakened condition that was especially dangerous.  

I didn't want to let her out of my sight, and if she hadn't asked me
to stay I know I would have made it as far as just outside her door
before I'd turned around and come running back in.  I sat with her
all night, gladly - anything to watch over her, as if by my very
presence I could somehow stave off the monstrous enemy within her
frail body.  I guess when I woke up this morning and she wasn't right
next to me, I thought it had finally gotten her.  Childish thought, I
know - but bone-jarring fright owes nothing to age and maturity.

When I rushed into the kitchen and saw Scully standing there with
nothing more life-threatening happening to her than the toasting of
waffles... the relief I felt almost dropped me to my knees.  I had to
get my hands on her, anywhere I could reach - and assure myself that
she was all right.  I found her in my arms before I'd realized I'd
pulled her to me; found small, tender places on her sweet face and
neck to press thankful kisses... 

When her mouth brushed over my chin it felt like an epiphany.  

I pulled back to stare at her and it was as if I'd never seen her
before.  I gazed into her eyes and then at that rosebud mouth of
hers.  Suddenly, I had to have it - I had to have her mouth.  I would
die if I didn't take it.  There was no discussion in my brain, still
half-frantic with the residual worry of a few minutes before.  If one
tiny voice of rational thought in my head was screaming at me to give
serious consideration to what I was about to do - I ignored it with
unswayable purpose.  Her mouth.  Naturally pink and full and dewy and
curved just a little at the left corner... a hint of pearly whites
behind it.  I wanted her mouth, more than anything I'd ever wanted in
my life.

More than I'd ever wanted Lilly, in the more than two years we'd been
together.  

Later I would remember that silent confession I made to myself, and
feel like a total prick for thinking that way.  But this morning the
lips I wanted were a breath away and I took them.  I tasted the
sweetness of Dana Scully and one taste was not enough.  A million
tastes would never be enough - I drank her in as if tomorrow would
never come - and when she moaned low in her throat it unleashed so
much that I'd been carrying around for so long. I bent over her small
body and with no thought of the rough night she'd had, I kissed my
partner with the sort of passion I'd been unknowingly carrying for
her.  And in that moment I understood that regardless of the amount 
of time we had left together, I wanted - needed - her.  Scully.  
Only Scully. So much a part of me for so long that at times she 
seemed an extension of my body... so deeply entrenched in my heart 
that I was amazed there had ever been room for anyone else.

I propped her on her kitchen table and pressed myself between her
slender thighs.  The heat emanating from her scorched me but I was so
willing for the burn.  It meant that I held a woman brimming with
life in my arms.  Not a sick woman - not a dying woman... but alive. 
Vital.  Beautiful... 

Scully.  

I forgot everything I was supposed to remember as soon as I covered
her mouth with my parched lips, and drank her in.  My restless hands
itched to touch her, everywhere; my ears strained to hear the moans
and sighs coming from her throat as I curled my tongue around hers. 
She tasted amazing, and I was so hungry I was in physical pain from
it.  She felt astonishingly right in my arms and I finally let those
afore-mentioned restless hands curve over her, slipping up from her
silk-covered hips to burrow underneath the little pajama top, and
press over her breasts.  At the feel of them under my hands I groaned
in harsh reaction and her answering moan was just as raw and shot
down my throat, all the way to my heart.  Oh, God, Scully...

"Oh, God... Scully..."  I was humming her name into her mouth as we
kissed more passionately, clutched at each other with stronger need. 
She arched against my palms and her little nipples bore into my skin
as I rubbed them into even harder points.  Our combined breathing was
harsh and loud in the silent kitchen and as I rubbed at her soft
breasts again I decided I had to have the nipple; it didn't matter
which for I knew by the feel of them that each one would be
perfection.  Left or right, it was a moot point.  I wanted at least
one of them...  I bent her back a little roughly but my lips were
gentle with each.  Over the silk covering them, drawing first one and
then the other into my mouth - deciding I had to have them both yet
wanting to tease myself by leaving them covered for this first,
urgent kiss -  I took them.  Heard the rough groans shivering through
me and soaking into Scully as I increased the pressure...

And suddenly her hands were pushing against me and over the roaring
in my head I could barely make out her breathless, "Mulder, stop!"  

I lifted my head in sudden panic, thinking I'd hurt her in some way -
and as my eyes met hers, glittering with unshed tears - what I saw in
them shook me to the core.  And I knew in my shocked gaze she'd seen
the exact same thing...

Lilly.  Both of us had thought of her at almost the same time,
though Scully had been quicker to react.  Oh my God...  

With jerky movements Scully pushed at me again until I loosened my
hold, and she wriggled out of my embrace and hastily scooted
backwards, out of reach of my hands, which were still outstretched in
her direction.  She gulped in a shuddering breath and my hands
dropped to my sides.  I didn't know what to say; I simply stood there
and stared at her - and she stared back.  I couldn't help but wonder
if the despair I felt in my heart was echoed on my face.  Apparently
so...

"Oh, Mulder.  What are we doing?"  Scully turned away and slipped
off the table to her feet, running her hands through her hair.  I
could see the way those hands shook.  A small part of me felt
instant, selfish pride at the knowledge that I'd affected her so
strongly - that she'd tremble afterwards.  Then that same small voice
jeered at me.  Of course she'd trembled, Jesus Christ!  She'd been
about at Death's Door just hours ago!  Scully looked a hundred
percent better but she was still seriously, gravely ill.  And I'd
given her little or no opportunity to get away from me - to decide if
she'd even wanted my embrace at all.  

When she turned back to me I noticed the way the damp silk covering
her breasts showcased each tender nipple.  I'd been responsible for
the condition of those sweet points; again I felt selfish pride - and
as ruthlessly squashed it and pushed it down.  Now was not the time -

Yet, now was exactly the right time - now or never.  But when I
stared into Scully's remorseful eyes I knew that it had to be...
never.  I took a deep breath and so did she, and when I opened my
mouth to speak she beat me to it.

"Mulder, back at your apartment is a woman who is crazy in love with
you.  She's healthy and strong and she adores everything about you. 
She would spend the rest of her life doing everything in her power to
make you happy... I on the other hand have very little life left." 
Her voice dropped to a rasping whisper and I shook my head so
violently at her words, I swear I made the fillings in my teeth
rattle.  I can't hear this, I thought to myself!  Please, God, don't
make me hear this... I must have spoken aloud because Scully offered
me the tiniest of smiles, and her voice was small and hoarse but firm.

"Yes, Mulder.  Yes.  We both know it.  Please don't waste what time
is left trying to avoid it.  I have had test after test.  The
treatments are not working, Mulder - you need to understand how
serious this is.  I am not getting better.  Oh, I have spots of
relative health, such as this morning... but it's not real - it's
only temporary.  Let's be honest about it, Mulder - it's not going to
last."  Scully blinked and the tears standing in her beautiful eyes
slid down her pale face.  She turned away and picked up a dishtowel
hanging over the back of a kitchen chair, and buried her face in it,
shoulders shaking with sobs.  I rushed to her side and tried to wrap
my arms around her; my heart was breaking into a thousand pieces and
I could not bear the distance between us.  When I touched her
shoulder her muffled, "Don't..." drew me up stiffly.  

I waited for Scully to turn again - to face me.  To face us - and
what was obviously between us.  My God, how could I let this go?  I
was only beginning to comprehend the enormity of what I felt for this
woman, and I had to stop?  Just stop... No!  I couldn't!  I tried to
make her see that.

"Scully... we can't pretend this didn't happen!  Dammit, you felt it
too!"  I stood behind her without realizing I'd stepped forward, and
I enclosed her in my arms, wrapping them around her middle and
pressing her close.  She stood like a little statue in my embrace,
and her words cut into me when she spoke.

"Yes, I felt it.  I admit it.  But there's nothing to be done about
it, Mulder.  You have a girlfriend.  You have more than two years of 
your life invested in her and in your relationship with her.  Even if 
I was healthy I would still push you away.  You have chosen someone
else
and you need to deal fairly with her, Mulder..."

Scully stepped out of my arms as she whispered the last few words to
me, and she never turned around to look at me again as she walked
into the bathroom.  But I heard what she uttered under her breath,
just before the door closed gently behind her...

"I love you, Mulder..."

And now, hours later - I sat on my sofa in my cold apartment and
wondered how in hell I would be able to pick up and continue my
relationship with Lilly when every pore in my body cried out for Dana
Scully.

****************

~ Chapter Six ~

It wasn't until I heard the knock on my door - the old "Shave and a
Haircut" five knocks, Fox's habitual door-pounding - that I
remembered I'd left the answering machine off.  When I'd arrived home
early in the morning I hadn't switched on any lights, and I'd
unplugged the machine as I'd shuffled by on the way to my bedroom. 
I'd been exhausted, but wondered if I'd even be able to sleep.  I'd
shed my clothes a piece at a time as I'd moved through my bedroom,
dropping each item on the floor and not really caring when after I
finished cleansing my face and brushing my teeth, I stepped on the
trail of them on my way back to bed.

I climbed in between cool sheets and curled into a little ball on my
side, willing my mind to rest and let me sleep.  I kept my hands
tucked under my pillow to keep them from reaching for the phone on my
night stand, and dialing Fox's cell number.  I knew he always left it
on, and I knew he'd answer it regardless of what was happening.  I
didn't want him to think I was needy.  I didn't want him to wonder
whether or not I trusted him.  I couldn't bear the thought of him
feeling as if he couldn't breathe... was being smothered by me.

As I lay there I made myself think of Dana - what she was probably
going through.  If Fox never had the time to even ring me or leave a
message and let me know how she was doing, to me that boded very ill
for an optimistic outlook.  I wondered if he'd think to call me from
the hospital, for I was convinced that's where he'd taken her.  She
was dying, after all, and dying people usually went to the hospital. 
I pulled the blankets up around my chin and relaxed a little, feeling
somewhat better.  He'd need my strength when Dana finally passed
on... he'd need the cocoon of my love, to sustain him and get him
through the loss of his partner and his best friend.

It never occurred to me to consider Fox spent the night anywhere but
at Scully's hospital bedside.  I never stopped to think that his
absence from my bed that night had signified anything different than
a last desperate need to hold Dana's hand as she slipped away.

It seemed like hours before I was able to sleep, to shut down my
over-productive brain and allow myself to rest.  I woke up four hours
later feeling drained and bleary, dragging myself from my bed and
managing to make it over to my sofa before I sank down into a stupor
again.  I told myself it was natural to feel depressed at the thought
of someone I knew whose life was slipping away.  That it was all
right for me to worry at the mental state of the man I loved, and
experience empathy for him.

And it felt like less than an hour later when that odd little knock
of Fox's announced his presence outside my door.  I had been sitting
on the sofa, staring off into space and blinking every so often. 
Thinking, about everything and yet nothing...  At the knock I jumped
a little and glanced at the wall clock, which told me I'd been
sitting on the sofa almost-unblinking for well over two hours.  I
roused myself from my zombie-like state and moved to the door,
opening it wide and taking in the sight of a wrinkled, bone-tired and
incredibly appealing Fox Mulder leaning against my door frame.  I
stared into his eyes, red-rimmed and sad as I had never seen them
look before; I reached out a hand to him and pulled him inside, into
my arms.  His own arms were slow to embrace me, but I understood.  My
God... he was grieving; he must have been with her when she...

My poor Fox.  He'd just lost his partner and his best friend - then
he'd come to me in his need and I was honored to be there for him - 

"Oh, Fox.  I'm so sorry.  So sorry.  Was it... did she... oh, Lord. 
Did Dana suffer?  I pray she didn't suffer."  I felt him stiffen
slightly against me as he digested my halting words of comfort, and
then he pulled back a little to peer into my face with a look of
confusion on his.

"Wha -? Lilly... Scully is fine, much better today than last night. 
It was touch and go for a bit, but she managed to sleep some and when
she awoke this morning she had improved greatly."  The shine of quiet
joy in his hazel eyes was unmistakable, and I found myself pinning a
smile on my face as I replied.

"Fox, that's... I'm glad.  Very glad to hear it."  And I was, I told
myself.  Of course I was glad.  With another smile sent in his
direction, this one brighter, I stepped away from his arms when he
released me and turned to shut the door and I led him into the living
room where he collapsed wearily on my sofa.  I perched on the
cushioned arm next to him and stroked the mussed hair off his
forehead as he leaned his head back and sighed.  He did look
exhausted, I thought.  It had obviously been a long night for him.  I
had so many questions to ask him, beginning with an explanation of
his absence all night and most of today.  I parted my lips to speak
but thought better of it - and waited for him to tell me.

"I tried to talk Scully into going to the hospital but she was so
sick from the treatment she'd received; she begged me not to make her
go.  She fainted a couple of times on me - I was so worried about
her.  I couldn't help her, Lilly - she was vomiting and passing out
and in terrible pain and there wasn't a thing I could do for her
except hold her and pray she'd make it through.  And she did, thank
Christ - she made it.  I don't know what I would have done if I'd
lost her, last night."  I made sympathetic noises while Fox talked,
and tried not to feel jealous when the tears filling his eyes spilled
over and ran down his cheeks.  And even as I lambasted myself for
such rotten, selfish thoughts - I was thinking back on over two years 
of giving my all to this man and trying to remember if Fox had ever
cried for me.

Of course, he never had - because I'd never given him a reason to
cry.  I was just his healthy girlfriend... Dana Scully was his
terminally-ill partner.

Damn - there I went, again.  Jealousy was an ugly emotion and did
not become me.  Once more I reminded myself that I had everything
wonderful and good in my life, and Dana was nearing the end of hers. 
Regardless of her improvement last night the fact of her inoperable
tumor still remained.  Her days were numbered...

A few seconds after thinking that uncharitable thought, I
immediately chastised myself in self-loathing.  God, I was so low...
what was the matter with me!  Yes, I was a woman in love, and
insecure about the place I held in my lover's life.  But that was no
excuse for the sway of my thoughts. I cussed myself out so thoroughly
in my mind that I failed to hear Fox's next remark.

"I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to call you, Lilly.  I know you
were worried.  By the time Scully finally fell asleep, it was so
late... I assumed you'd probably be asleep and I would have hated to
wake you."

I gazed into his eyes; they were genuinely contrite.  Relieved, I
moved closer to Fox and he wrapped an arm around me and hugged me
close.  I sighed into his neck, leaning against his comforting warmth
and soaking up the sheer joy of being close to him.  God, I loved
this man so much -!  How I wished I'd been allowed to stay with him
last night when he'd had to tend to Dana.  I lifted my face from his
neck and he bent down to kiss me, the caress of his lips so gentle
and sweet.  I smiled up at him when he released my mouth.

"So, did you sit up all night, keeping watch over Dana?"  It would
be just like Fox to sacrifice sleep for his best friend, I thought -
and it would explain the traces of utter exhaustion I could still
detect in his eyes.  He didn't answer right away - and my smile
slipped a little when I saw a pink flush steal over his handsome
face.  My eyes narrowed; was that a... blush?  I looked closer,
noting the pink getting rosier as it centered high on each of his
cheeks.  It WAS a blush... Fox was blushing and acting flustered. 
And he wasn't looking me directly in the eyes - or answering my
question.  I sat up a little straighter, and stared at the pinkened
face of the man I adored - and I couldn't help but wonder...

Just where the hell HAD Fox slept - at Dana's, last night?

*****************

I didn't get any sleep.  I couldn't relax enough to get drowsy
enough to bypass my thoughts, enough to sleep...  I lay in the
darkness with Lilly beside me, and I thought of another woman, all
night.  

What sort of a bastard did that make me, I wondered?

Lilly wanted to know more about the other night than I was willing
to say.  I found myself being secretive, and rather lousy at it since
I'd really never had to hide anything from a woman before.  This was
the sort of thing you told your best friend... except my best friend
was rapidly becoming something much more than just a friend.  And my
feelings were compounding the predicament - and I am sure Lilly could
tell something was amiss.  I told myself I was still a relatively
free agent - that I had never lied to Lilly or given her any false
hopes.  And I hadn't - I had been honest with her, all this time. 
But that didn't make me feel any better.

I had managed to deflect most of Lilly's curiosity and I hadn't
liked doing that to her - but I could barely stand to think of how
confused I was feeling, much less hold a discussion with my
girlfriend centering around wildly unpredictable feelings for my
partner.  A conversation like that would have gone very bad, very
quickly...

I did the only thing I could think of doing, to stop the questions
and reassure Lilly - and perhaps, myself - that all was as well as it
could be.  I took her into my arms, there on her sofa - and I kissed
her gently.  Softly - carefully.  As lovingly as I could, for of
course I knew she needed to feel loved.  Don't we all... Trouble was,
I couldn't decide how much of what I felt for her was affection and
how much was an attempt to create romantic love between us.  Those
lines, unclear at best these past two years, had become hopelessly
blurred in just a few minutes - those few minutes I'd spent with
Scully in my arms.  

But I tried to put that behind me, I really did.  In the few seconds
before I embraced Lilly, I thought about my options, and tried to
imagine I was not being a selfish prick for doing so.  I kept
chanting to myself, 'Normal life, normal life...' as if it would be
some sort of magical mantra for me.  I saw before me a lovely woman
who had fallen in love with me and was just waiting for a decision
from me.  She would not push me, but her very attitude could
unknowingly send me in one direction or another - because I felt such
deep affection for her and the last thing I wanted to do was cause
her pain.  She wanted to make a future with me - perhaps babies, as
well - and I was willing to throw it all away because I didn't love
her - at least, not yet. 

When I was younger I'd often wondered just how long it would take me
to fall wildly in love with someone.  I don't doubt that 'love at
first sight' truly does exist for some people.  I imagined I would
fall somewhere in between the instant variety and longevity... two
years, to be exact.  I had to face facts:  if I'd been meant to fall
in love with Lilly it would have happened by now.  And although I
couldn't deny my feelings for her, I likewise couldn't ignore the
pain of knowing I was going to lose Scully, just when I had
discovered her.

But Scully would not let me have her.  Not when her future was so
shaky - when she had all but given up on finding a way to prolong
her life. 

Meanwhile, I faced the woman with whom I'd spent the last couple of
years, and knew she deserved far more than I'd been inclined to give
her.  But I would never know for sure about a future with her unless I
was willing to try.  So, I held Lilly and kissed her, feeling the
warmth and affection I always felt when I held her; enjoying her
delicate perfume and the feel of her silky hair under my hand. 
Familiar and dear to me, after two years of being with her... of
course it felt good.  I liked the way her fingers pressed against my
nape and the little sighs she breathed into my mouth as we kissed
more passionately.  I slid down into the sofa cushions and urged her
down next to me.  I wanted to show Lilly how I felt - I needed to let
her know that my affection for her ran deep.

Affection.  That's what it was, that's all I needed.  This I told
myself as I slipped my hands underneath her sweater and caressed her
breasts.  Soft, sweet breasts, rounded and full.  So much different
than - 

Shit!  Don't do this; don't go there, Asshole!  I closed my eyes and
concentrated on the lovely woman in my arms; the one who deserved all
my focus.  I could give her this, I thought - as I touched her and
caressed her and felt the way her breathing hitched and heard her
sighs.  I could give Lilly my focus and my caring and maybe - just
maybe - it would be enough.

Making love to Lilly had always been such a tender experience; she
was giving and generous and always made me feel very good.  I liked
being the center of her world, even though I sometimes felt guilt at
not being able to return the level of love she directed at me.  I had
never worried overmuch, when we made love, if my emotions were not as
minutely engaged.  I always figured it would come, that magical day
when I would look into her eyes and know I'd found my soul-mate.  I
always hoped such a moment would happen for me...

But I'd assumed it would happen with Lilly.  And it hadn't... and I
think she knew it.  But I tried, I really did - and she let me try. 
She responded to my kisses and my caresses and when I removed her
clothes she smiled at me with warm eyes and kissed me when I slipped
into her body.  I think she knew I wasn't completely with her, though
- at about the same moment I realized it too.  When I looked into her
eyes as I sank slowly within her; as I wound my fingers into her hair
and for several tell-tale moments I imagined my hands were winnowed
into red locks, instead of brown.  When for more long seconds I
stared into eyes that I tricked myself into believing were blue...
and as I thrust I fought the image floating before my tightly-closed
lids because in all my adult life I had never made love to one woman
while thinking of another... 

Not until now.  God, not until this moment.

Later I lay next to her and stared up at the ceiling and wondered if
she'd suspected that I'd had Scully in my mind even as I'd held Lilly
next to my pounding heart and underneath my driving body.  That it
had been Scully's face I'd seen when I'd shuddered in the throes of
my climax; Scully's name I'd bit back from shouting.  That I felt
like an utter shit for making love to one woman while I was dying
inside for another -

I could never let her know.  The guilt would kill me and cause her
so much pain - I would never tell her.  I would find a way to live
with the guilt I already felt; my punishment for what I saw as a
betrayal.  

I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep - and waited for morning.

*******************
end of chapter six

********************

~ Chapter Seven ~

Realizing I was in love with Mulder didn't mean that he didn't
still have the ability to drive me crazy.  The ringing phone in the
pre-dawn hours had startled me out of a deep sleep.  I was in a panic
as I called the airline and booked myself on the next flight.  I
pulled on a pair of white jeans and shrugged into a blazer as I
grabbed my keys and ran out of my apartment.

What the hell was Mulder doing in Rhode Island? I had wondered this
for what had to be the hundredth time as I squinted at the map I'd
picked up at the car rental counter.  Had he and Lillian gone away
for the weekend together?  That thought brought with it a flare of
jealousy that I hastily sought to shrug off.  I had been the one to
bring a halt to our embrace a few weeks ago.  I had sent him back
home to Lillian.  I blinked back an unwelcome tear as I reminded
myself that it was for the best.  I had more pressing matters on my
mind at the moment, namely why Mulder was holed up in a motel in
Rhode Island. Why hadn't he told me where he was going?

The truth was that Mulder and I had been very awkward around each
other ever since the kisses we shared in my kitchen.  I didn't know
what had been going through his mind after that morning, but I know
that my emotions had been off-kilter ever since.  I jumped wildly
from silly daydreams centered around the memory of his mouth on my
breasts - to jealousy at the thought of him doing the same thing with
Lillian - to a deep, black anger.  Of late, that had been the most
overwhelming emotion.  I was angry at the world.  Angry at my cancer;
angry with my doctors for not being able to find a way to save me;
angry that I had realized I was in love with Mulder at a time when
there was no hope for us; angry with Mulder for kissing me and
touching me and confusing me.  What did he feel for me?  Love? 
Pity?  

When we returned home from Rhode Island, my anger soared to new
heights.  Now that Mulder was safe, the reality of what he'd done
scared me to death.  Allowing someone to drill a hole in his head and
then drug him... what had he been thinking?

Trembling, I picked up the phone to call him.  

"Are you alone?" I asked when he answered the phone.  His voice was
groggy and I knew I had awakened him.  At the sound of my voice,
he was instantly alert.

"Scully?  What's wrong?"  I could hear the sheets rustle as he sat
up in bed.  I was hoping he was alone, but even if Lillian was there,
I was determined to speak with him.

"I'm fine, Mulder," I told him.  "I just wanted to talk to you."  I
tucked the phone under my chin and yanked a sweater from the back of
my sofa on my way out of my apartment.  "I'm coming over," I warned
him.

"Scully, wait!" Mulder said, confusion evident in his voice.  "Why
are you coming over to my apartment at - " There was a pause and I
pictured him squinting at the glowing red numbers of the digital
clock next to his bed. "Two o'clock in the morning?" he finished. 
"Are you sure you're okay?"  I could hear the mounting concern
in the tone of his voice.  "Maybe I should come over to your place
instead," he suggested.  

I was shaking my head as I slid the key into the lock of my car
door.  "Mulder, I'm already on my way," I told him.  There was no
need for him to know I was still parked outside of my building. 
I didn't want to have this conversation at my apartment surrounded by
pill bottles and thermometers and all of the other paraphernalia of
the sick.  I was still enjoying a longer than usual spell of good
health and I wanted Mulder to see me as the strong woman who had been
his partner for almost five years.

He had obviously been watching the window for my arrival because he
opened his apartment door just as I was stepping out of the elevator.
He held the door wide open and I slipped under his arm.  He closed
the door and turned to face me.

"Do you want anything to drink?" he asked.  I shook my head and saw
the way his eyes searched my face for some clue as to why I had
felt it necessary to wake him up and drive all the way over to his
apartment in the middle of the night.  Face-to-face with him, I
wasn't quite sure how to begin.

"No, thank you," I said as I slowly pulled my sweater off.  I sat
down on the sofa, perched on the edge of the leather cushion and
smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from the soft cotton of the sweater
draped across my knees.  "Is Lillian here?" I asked again, stalling
as I looked up at him.

Mulder dropped down onto the other end of the sofa and rubbed his
hands over his face.  "I know you didn't drive all the way over here
at two AM just to find out whether or not Lillian is here," he said
tiredly as he rolled his head against the back of the sofa to face me.

I sighed and nodded.  "No," I said quietly.  "I didn't."  He was
watching me with an expectant look on his face and I took a deep
breath.  "Why did you go to Rhode Island without telling me?" I asked
point-blank.  Mulder closed his eyes and shook his head.

"We've already had this discussion," he sighed.  I bit back a
sarcastic laugh as I remembered our supposed 'discussion' on the
short flight back to DC.  

"Yeah. You said you didn't remember.  And then you went to sleep," I
added, recalling the way he had shifted his head and shoulders away
from me in the cramped seats of the airplane, effectively shutting me
out and blocking any further attempts at continuing the conversation.
Mulder nodded again and opened his eyes.  

"That's right," he agreed.  "I told you that the last thing I
remembered was talking to you on Friday night.  The next thing I
knew, it was Sunday morning and I was calling you."  I pursed my lips
and scratched my nails over the buttons marching down the front of my
sweater. 

"But you've had some time to think about it," I pressed.  "So, do
you remember now why you went without telling me?"  I looked up but
he refused to meet my eyes.

"God, Scully," he mumbled, throwing his arm over his face.  "It was a
personal matter."  I ran my tongue over my lips and considered his
answer.

"Personal," I repeated.  He nodded from behind the arm shielding his
face.  I let the silence grow until he peeked out from behind his arm.
He glanced at the disbelieving look on my face and scowled.

"Scully, let it go already," he suggested in a low voice.  I shook
my head and continued to study him silently.  Mulder ground his teeth
together and glared at me from across the divide of the sofa.

"I told you, it was - "

"Personal," I interjected flatly.  He nodded again, now clearly
impatient.  I raised my brows and settled back against the sofa. 
Mulder took note of the body language that told him that I wasn't
planning on leaving until I got an answer that satisfied me. 
Scowling again, Mulder sat up straighter.

"Fine," he said, throwing his hands up into the air.  "I didn't tell
you because I knew you would insist on going with me and I thought
you should stay at home and rest!"  He stood up and planted both hands
on his hips in an 'are you happy now' stance.  I blinked at him once
and returned my gaze to the fascinating study of the knit of my
sweater.

"Well, that plan worked really well," I said sarcastically.  "Tell
me, Mulder.  Were you thinking of me when you were letting Dr.
Goldstein drill holes in your head?" I began harshly.  "What part of
you thought it would be a good idea to let him inject you with a
tranquilizer intended for ANIMALS?" I asked, my voice rising into a
near-shout.  I took a deep breath and tried to rein in my temper.

"Jesus," he breathed angrily.  "You know, believe it or not, this
had nothing to do with you!" he said harshly.  "It was about me!  My
family!  My sister!"  I nodded and closed my eyes as I gathered my
thoughts.

"Yes, Mulder.  I know that.  But you just sat here and told me you
specifically didn't let me know of your plans because you thought my
health would be better served by staying home and resting," I pointed
out.  "So, what I'm asking you is - at what point during the whole
head-drilling-tranquilizer-taking procedure did you think that you
wouldn't need me?"  I crossed my arms over my chest and waited for
his response.  

"I..." His mouth opened and closed futilely as he tried to come up
with a response.  I tilted my head to the side and pressed on.

"I'm still your partner - aren't I?" I asked calmly, striving for a
rational tone.  Mulder pinched the bridge of his nose between his
thumb and forefinger and I watched him visibly force back his anger
as he nodded tersely.  My head bobbed up and down as I continued to
push my point at him.

"You went up there alone because you knew I wouldn't approve," I
said and paused again for his response.  He continued to knead his
forehead with his fingertips and once again a brief nod was his only
reply.

"But in the back of your mind, you were counting on me to come up
there if you needed me," I ventured, knowing I was right.  Mulder
heaved out a long sigh and opened his eyes.

"Yes," he was grudging as his eyes locked onto mine briefly before
skittering away.  "I knew you would come if I needed you," he told 
me.  Then it was my turn to close my eyes and sigh.  I leaned 
forward and clasped my hands between my legs.

"Mulder," I began softly.  "You can't keep taking these chances with
your life.  I'm not always going to be here to save you," I reminded
him.  He sucked in a deep breath and his head snapped back in shock. 

"Dammit," he hissed before stalking into the kitchen.  I knew he
hated discussing the implications of my failing health.  In fact,
I'd decided to spare him the results of my last appointment with my
oncologist who believed it was only a matter of time before the
cancer would metastasize... that there was, in fact, very little
hope.  But I had to make Mulder understand that he couldn't keep
inviting trouble the way he has done throughout the course of our
partnership.  That unless he had a death wish, he couldn't keep
putting his life on the line the way he had done a few days ago.  I
bit my lip as a sudden, unwelcome thought flashed through my head.  I
stood and followed him into the kitchen.

"Mulder," I called in a soft voice.  He had his hands braced on the
counter and his head hung down to his chest.  I walked slowly across
the yellowed linoleum to lay my hand between his shoulders.  He
flinched at my touch and didn't lift his head.  I stroked my hand
over the column of his spine as I spoke.

"You went back to Dr. Goldstein a second time," I said as I slowly
picked my way through the jumble of terrifying thoughts crowding my
head.  "Even though I had already told you that the treatments could
kill you... even though as a result of the treatments you couldn't
remember the events of more than the prior twenty-four hours. I
watched you rolling around in agony..." I choked on the memory of
Mulder clutching his head in pain and my fingers tightened on his
back.  "You let Dr. Goldstein treat you again, even though you knew
that Amy Cassandra died as a direct result of her exposure to the
Ketamine."  I worried my bottom lip between my teeth as I forced out
the last of my thoughts.

"When I found you at the summer house, swaying... with that gun
pointed at your head..." I pushed my face down next to his, trying to
force him to look at me.  "Mulder," I swallowed harshly before
continuing.  "Mulder, you don't have a death wish... do you?" I
asked - hating the timid tone in my voice but deathly afraid of his
answer.

Mulder turned his face toward mine and I was chilled by the bleak
look I saw in his eyes.  It was only evident for a moment and
then his eyes cleared, but his smile was forced when he replied. 
"Scully, I won't leave you.   Don't worry about me."

I opened my mouth to argue further, realizing immediately that he'd
avoided my real question.  I was worried about what would happen to
him after I was gone.  Who would take care of him?  Who would watch
his back?  I was still angry at the idea of his treating his life so
cavalierly that he would allow such brutal experimentation in his
search for the truth as he saw it.  Who would talk sense into him
when I am no longer here to do it?  I suspected Mulder had kept
this part of his life separate from the life he shared with Lillian. 
To this day, I don't know how much she understood about our work and
Mulder's quest and the constant threat to our lives.

Mulder pushed away from the counter and straightened his back,
drawing himself up to his full height.  His eyes were shuttered and I
knew he had closed himself off to further discussion of the matter. 
I reached out with one hand and he caught it in his own, pulling me
out of the kitchen behind him.  He led me back to the sofa and I
thought I'd been wrong - maybe he was willing to discuss it
further.  Instead, he leaned forward and lifted my sweater from the
sofa cushion.  Releasing my hand, he held the sweater up so that I
could slip my arms into the sleeves.

"Mulder," I protested, but he only shook his head and concentrated
on fastening the top button.  He looked up and I watched his eyes
rove over my face for a moment before he spoke.

"It's late," he said in low, rumbling voice.  "And you should be
home sleeping," he chided as he led me toward the door.  "Shall I
drive you home?"  I hung my head for a moment, resigned to the fact
that I wasn't going to get any more answers out of him tonight.

"No," I said softly as I lifted my keys from the table near the
front door.  "I'll be fine," I promised.  He nodded and followed me
out into the hallway.  We waited for the elevator in silence.  Mulder
walked me several yards down the street to where my car was parked
and waited until I was settled behind the steering wheel before
turning back toward his apartment building.   I pulled out of my
parking space and brought the car to a halt when I drew near the
entrance to his building.  His face was hidden in the shadows and I
felt a wrenching pain around my heart.  Standing in the darkened
doorway, he looked so alone as he lifted his hand in farewell.  I
couldn't bear to leave him there... where would I find the strength
to let go when the time came?

********** 

More than two weeks had passed since the last time Fox and I had
made love.  Although his touches had brought me so much pleasure, I
sensed he wasn't completely with me... that he had left a part
of himself back at Dana's.  Something was off and I couldn't put my
finger on it.  Afterwards, he held me so gently in his arms and
whispered beautiful nonsense into my ears, but I'd felt the first
truly visible crack had appeared in the foundation of our
relationship that evening.

Fox had to leave town almost immediately after that.  He said
something about Alaska and the Yukon Territory in a hurried telephone
conversation as he explained that he would call me when he returned
home.  I had received two short e-mails from him during his absence
and I took heart in the knowledge that he knew I was worried and that
he had made an effort to allay those fears.  When I returned from
lunch this afternoon I found a voice mail message from him.  I waited
all night for some further word from him but he never called.  Tired
of waiting for him to come to me, I decided to drive over to see him.
If he was already asleep, I would simply curl up beside him
and we could talk in the morning.  If he was awake and willing to
talk, I was determined to find out where we stood.  I knew that it
would be selfish of me to demand he stop spending time with
Dana.  They needed each other, now more than ever.  But I needed to
know how he felt about me.  I thought perhaps if I'd felt like I was
on
firmer ground with regards to my place in his life, it would be
easier for me to be charitable about the time he spent with her.  I
hated the feelings of shame and guilt that swept over me every time I
thought of how much easier and more stable my life would be when she
no longer needed him.  But most of all, I needed to know I
wouldn't be competing with a ghost when the time came for him to say
goodbye.

I parked on the street and thumbed the remote control dangling from
my key chain to arm the car alarm.  I was fumbling for the key to his
apartment in my purse as I hurried down the street toward his
building.  I looked up to see Fox run out of the front door and turn
in the other direction.

"Fox!" I shouted.  He didn't respond and I broke into a run.  "Fox! 
Wait!" I called as I dashed after him.  His long, loping stride
faltered and as he spun toward the sound of my voice I stopped dead
in my tracks, shocked by the light from the street lamp glinting off
the barrel of the gun he held in his right hand.  I'd never seen his
gun out of its holster before.  He was at my side in seconds and I
felt the cold steel of the gun against my back as he yanked me into
his arms.

"Lilly!  God!  What are you doing here?" he asked.  His voice was
rough and I could feel his heart pounding against the wall of his
chest.  His manner was frightening and I pushed out of his embrace
to look into his face.  What I saw there shocked me even more than
the sight of the gun that seemed to fit so comfortably in his hand. 
His eyes were feral... murderous - and for the very first time since
I had met him, I realized I was looking at Mulder...  

Not my Fox, but Dana Scully's Mulder.  

"What is it?" I cried out and the fear choking me must have
been evident. His face softened fractionally and I could feel
the man I knew as Fox, in the hand that stroked roughly through my
hair.

"Nothing... everything," he muttered distractedly as he clasped my
hand and dragged me back to my car by my hand.  I stumbled along
behind and he took the keys from my other hand and disarmed the alarm
before swinging the door open.  I dug my heels into the pavement as
he tried to muscle me into the car.

"Fox! Stop it!" I gasped as I grabbed him by the forearms. 
"Please, tell me what's wrong."  My breath was coming in rapid pants
and I looked at him pleadingly.  He heaved out a sigh and cupped my
face in his hands.  Beneath the rage simmering in his eyes, I saw a
look of desolation so deep that my first instinct was to assume that
Dana had passed away.  But the gun in his hand and the angry ticking
along his jaw line told me otherwise.

"Everything is going to be okay," he told me.  I swallowed hard at
the implication that everything was not okay now.  He dipped his head
to position his eyes on a level with mine; his voice brooked no
argument.  "I want you to go home," he said and he stroked his thumbs
over my cheeks.  "Go home and lock your doors and windows and don't
answer the door for anyone but me," he ordered.  "On second thought,"
he continued, "I'd feel better if you went to stay with your
grandmother."  I could feel the blood draining from my head and I
must have swayed slightly because his hands dropped from my face to
my shoulders.

"Lilly!"  His voice was urgent, hands tightening their grip on me.  I
shook my head to clear it and nodded to let him know I was all
right.  

"What is it?" I whispered.  "Are you in danger?"  My lip quivered
and I bit down on it to stop the betraying tremble.  Fox leaned close
and brushed his lips over mine softly.

"I'll be fine," he said.  "And so will you, Lilly."  His hands
slipped back up to tunnel into my hair.  "This is just a precaution. 
I'll call you as soon as I can," he promised.  His lips met mine
again and this time his kiss was warm and lingering.

"Go, Lilly," he whispered against my mouth.  I nodded and checked
back the tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks.  I sank down
behind the steering wheel and Fox watched while I fastened my
seat-belt.

"Please be careful," I begged as I turned my face up to his.  He
nodded and braced his hand on the door as he bent close to me again.  

"Are you okay to drive yourself?" he asked and his lips quirked up
in a tiny smile when I nodded resolutely.  "Okay." He straightened. 
"Drive carefully, Lilly.  And remember what I told you."  I nodded,
frightened anew at his ominous warning. His smile comforted me. 
"I'll call you," he said as he pushed the car door closed.

I willed my hands to stop shaking as I twisted the key in the
Ignition.  When the car rumbled to life, Fox stepped back from the
curb.  As I drove down the street, I watched in my rearview mirror as
he began to lope toward his car again and I shuddered anew when I once
again saw the light playing off his gun.

Hours later, the sun was peeking through the blinds as I sat in the 
rocking chair in my old bedroom and idly picked at the threads of the 
afghan I had thrown over my legs.  Fox's warning tone had frightened 
me, enough to cause me to drive directly to Gran's from his
apartment.  

I had called her from my cell phone to let her know I was on my way 
and she was in the kitchen laying out the teacups and a plate of
cookies when I arrived.  There wasn't much for me to tell her as 
Fox had not been very forthcoming about what was going on but 
sipping tea in Gran's cozy, warm kitchen was comforting.  When 
I caught Gran fighting back a yawn, I insisted that we try to get 
some sleep.  I could hear her rhythmic breathing coming from the 
room next to mine where she slept, but I was too nervous to join 
her in slumber.

When my cell phone trilled, I pounced on it.

"Hello?" I asked breathlessly.  I closed my eyes with relief when I
heard Fox's voice over the line.

"Lilly?" he asked.  "Are you okay?"  I pulled my feet up onto the
chair and drew the afghan up to my chin, reveling in the loving
concern evident in his voice.

"I'm fine," I reassured him.  "I took your advice and went to
Gran's."  I paused for a moment before continuing.  "Fox, what about
you?  Are you all right?"  I could hear the sound of traffic in the
background and I knew he was calling me from his car.  "Where are
you?" I asked.  "Can you come over here so that we can talk?"  There
was a long silence and I knew the answer before he spoke.

"I can't Lilly," he said and the regret in his voice was genuine. 
"There's so many things going on... things that I can't explain right
now."

"Try me Fox," I implored.  "I'm a good listener."  I was mentally
pleading for him to come to me but I knew from the tone of his voice
that he wouldn't be coming.

"Oh sweetheart," he sighed.  "I know you are.  Listen, I need you to
trust me until this is over.  Can you do that?" he asked solemnly. 
Inanely I nodded as if he could somehow see the gesture through the 
phone, and was startled when he called my name impatiently.

"Lilly?"  

"Fox, yes of course I trust you."  I wanted so badly to know what
was going on.  

"Good," he said.  "I can't tell you everything right now, but what I
can tell you is that Scully and I have cause to believe that her
cancer was given to her by some of the people that we have been
investigating for the last few years," he told me.  I pulled the
phone away from me ear and looked at it in shock.  What?

"Fox, that's... that's... crazy," I spluttered.  "No one gives you
cancer!" I protested.  "And besides why would anyone do that?"  I was
afraid that grief had caused him to become delusional about Dana's
condition.

"Oh, Lilly," he said so softly that I almost didn't hear him at
first.  "There is so much evil in this world, so many horrors... you
can't even imagine," he murmured.  "But Scully and I - we've seen
this evil firsthand many times."  I didn't know what to say to that.
I knew he was right.  I'd seen the bleak look in his eyes many
times when he and Dana had returned home after investigating a case. 
Sometimes it took days for him to decompress.  

"...go away for a few days."  Blinking, I pulled myself back to the
present and the conversation I was holding with Fox.  "If someone was
capable of making Scully this sick, then someone has to be able to
cure her as well," he said.  I ran my hand over my face, trying to
figure out what he was telling me.

"Wait," I said.  "Wait. Fox, did you say you were going away?"  This
conversation was making me dizzy - I was having a terrible time
trying to wrap my brain around it as Fox leapt from one crazy topic
to another.

"Lilly," he asked.  "Do you have any vacation time coming up?"  My
heart was pounding as he asked, but I couldn't figure out what he was
up to.

"Yes, Fox. I have plenty of time left for the year," I told him.  

"Good," he said.  I need your help."  Over the next fifteen minutes
Fox laid out an insane plan... pretending to be dead so that he
could search for the men he believed had given Dana her terrible
disease. To assure the plan's success, though, I had to pretend he
was dead as well, which meant taking a couple of days off from work. 
No one would believe that I would go into the office if Fox were dead.

"It might have been better if I didn't tell you about this plan,"
Fox said cautiously.  "But I didn't want you to hear that I was dead.
I couldn't do that to you." Confused, I tried to get him to promise
to call me so I would know that he WAS alive and only pretending to
be dead.  

"I'll try," he said quietly.  "I can't guarantee that I'll call you
directly though. I promise I'll get word to you somehow," he vowed. 
Before I knew it, I was agreeing to his plan.

When Fox disconnected the call, I set my phone down and looked
across the room at the bed in the corner and I knew that a good
night's sleep wouldn't be possible... not until I knew Fox was safe.

**************************

In retrospect I suppose my actions the previous day had been
reminiscent of the worst sort of madman - but at the time I was too
panicked to give much of a shit.  I laid my head down on the pillow
in the silent and darkened hospital room and watched Scully slumber,
knowing it would be a long night and not caring because it was the
only place I wanted to be, right now.

Yesterday - I would call it "Hospital Visit Number One", I had
torn through the parking lot like that afore-mentioned madman,
almost wiping myself out on several parked cars, before slamming to a
stop in a space reserved for 'Medical Staff'.  If my car got towed,
who the fuck cared?  I was so frightened...

Not bothering with the elevator I'd taken the stairs two at a time
and burst through the double doors, ignoring the stares of shock as a
few fellow agents who'd thought I was dead reacted to seeing me very
much alive.  Of course they tried to stop me from seeing my partner -
and I let them succeed, that first time.  I didn't want to add to
Scully's already over-stressed situation by acting like a pathetic
jerk in front of her doctors and colleagues; even though I did
resemble one, much of the time.  I let Skinner and two other agents
take me out of there, figuring I'd get my chance to come back and see
her.  But the glimpse I got of my partner in ICU... well, it about
killed me.  

Everything I knew about my feelings for Scully, and a few of the
clouded issues about which I'd been unsteady - all of it came into
sharp focus when I sat with her much later the next night, holding her
hand and communing with her on more than a verbal level.  At first
Scully had wanted me to go home and get some rest.  As if, Partner...

"Mulder, come on.  Those dark circles under your eyes now extend
all the way to your nostrils.  I am not even going to ask you when
you slept last.  Please, go home and do that little thing, okay? 
I'll be fine.  Mom's coming back and she'll stay with me.  Bill may
also come back later, although I'd almost rather he stay away." 
Scully's eyes were as dark-ringed as I knew mine had to be; she was
pale to the point of being translucent and her voice came out on a
soft, blurred thread of sound - but I had never seen a more beautiful
sight in my life.  Life pulsed under the delicate skin of the hand I
held clasped in both of mine, and that's what mattered now.  I didn't
want to leave her - I was the only person in her sphere right now who
believed she would beat this, somehow - would live.  As much respect
as I had for her mother, Maggie Scully seemed ready to commit her
daughter into the hands of Heaven - and so did brother Bill.  Scully
didn't need that sort of defeatist attitude right now.  

"Scully, I'm not going anywhere.  I have a blank dance-card and
that's how it's gonna stay.  I'll share your Jell-O and apple juice
dinner and we'll watch the tube a bit, and if you're really lucky -
or unlucky, depending on your musical tastes - I'll even sing you a
lullabye..."  Her tired snicker and mumble of protest made me grin
like a baboon.

"Ooo, lucky me, indeed, Mulder.  Seriously," her eyes were fighting
the urge to droop as she stared at me, "I know you must have things
to do, people to see - when was the last time you spoke to Lillian? 
Does she know what's been going on, lately?"  I returned her sleepy
gaze with one purposely vague, and tried not to lie to Scully as I
avoided telling her everything.

"I've told her a little.  I asked her to assist in the 'game' by
taking a day or two off from work and pretend to mourn me. I suppose
you could say I implicated her in our deception.  But I didn't give
her any information other than that, Scully."  At the sad shaking of
her head, I broke off and wisely shut up.  Scully laid a hand over
mine as it rested on the blanket next to her, and in her voice I
heard a new note of worry and concern.

"Mulder, you were right to keep the bulk of this from her, but she
has to be worried out of her mind about you.  I know I'd be, if it
were me.  Why don't you just go home and spend some time with her?  I
told you, Mom will be here."  Scully pressed my hand, then placed her
palm against my chest and tried to give me a little incentive push. 
It was about as effective as a gnat trying to push Mt. McKinley - I
was not budging.  I covered her pushing hand with mine to still it,
and felt the way her fingers trembled a little under mine.  My voice
came out on a determined rush.

"I'm NOT going.  I'm not letting your mother and your brother Bill
hang out here tonight and go tearing off down the hall for the priest
every time your vitals fluctuate as the result of you burping up 
Jell-O.  Forget it.  They can camp out here another time, okay?"  I
reinforced my decision by moving from the bedside chair to the edge
of her bed, settling myself comfortably next to her and maneuvering
her gently until she lay nestled in one arm, head leaning back into
my shoulder.  If I lowered my cheek I could rest it against her soft
hair, and I did just that, briefly, before reaching for the remote
with my free hand and clicking on 'Lifetime'.  Scully's snort of
disbelief sounded so blessedly normal and Scully-ish that for a
moment I could forget that we weren't sitting on her sofa together,
or in my apartment on my lumpy excuse for a piece of furniture.

"'Lifetime', Mulder?  Now I know you're coddling me - you hate this
channel."  I grinned and dropped a careful kiss into her hair, and
felt her lean and relax until I was bearing her full weight in my
arms.  In the dimness of her hospital room we watched TV and as far
as I was concerned it was any other night in the life of Mulder and
Scully.

*************************


I exited the elevator on Dana's floor and walked slowly down the
silent corridor, peeking into open doors and tiptoeing past rooms
that held sleeping patients.  I knew the general vicinity of her
room, and I knew when I got there I would most likely find Fox as
well.  

I hadn't seen much of him lately, and of course I understood why. 
Dana was getting worse.  Whatever treatment she was receiving must
not have been working very well, because although Fox spoke of her
progress in positive terms, I could see the truth in his eyes.  Those
clear hazel eyes... they didn't hide much.  I had been looking into
them for over two years - I felt I knew them.  I saw sadness and 
worry and the imminent knowledge of loss, and my heart ached for 
the man I loved because he was going to lose someone he cared 
about.  And I felt sadness, too - for the waste of a young, vital 
life to the insidious monster called cancer.  

I let some time go by before I decided to visit Dana, knowing that
she needed her rest and figuring that Fox would comfort her the most.
I tried not to mind the hours he spent at her bedside, but I worried
for his health.  He wasn't eating much and I knew he wasn't
sleeping well either.  Fox had lost weight and his exhaustion
was evident.  I was worried but I accepted the fact that he would
have to work this out by himself.  I could only be there for him when
he needed someone to talk to.

I had to work late but hoped that Dana would still be awake, and
that the nurses wouldn't mind another visitor.  I also hoped to
persuade Fox to come home with me and try to eat something and maybe
even get some sleep.  After searching a few minutes I found the right
corridor and headed for Room 357H, getting a better grip on the
balloons in my hand as I felt the strap of my purse slip off my
shoulder.  I looked up at the balloons, glad to have bought them
instead of yet another flower arrangement which Fox had assured me
already overflowed Dana's room.  But he added that no one had thought
of balloons, and these were particularly charming.  One in the shape
of a colorful butterfly and the other a dramatic dragonfly, I thought
they might make Dana smile.

Rounding Corridor H east, I easily spotted Dana's room and moved to
the doorway.  I could hear the murmur of voices... With a smile on my
face I started to walk in - and then stopped dead in my tracks, just
outside the half-open door, in the shadows where the occupants of
that room would not see me.  In a dim corner of my mind I registered
my hand opening and letting go of the balloons; I suppose they must
have drifted to the ceiling to hover, the way butterflies and
dragonflies were meant to.  I couldn't look up to see; my stare was
riveted to the tableau inside the hospital room.

The bed was indeed surrounded by flowers, sitting on the night
stands and even on the rollaway table next to where Fox was sitting. 
On the bed, where he was sitting - holding Dana in his arms.  Her
head was on his shoulder and turned just enough for me to see fully
into her face, although from this angle Fox's lowered head would not
allow me to see his face as well.  And I was glad I could not... for
the expression I saw, there on Dana, was enough.

In the soft light of her hospital room Dana's eyes were lifted to
Fox and it was obvious to me she was staring deeply into his own. 
Even from here I could see the love burning there; it was so blatant.
One of her thin, pale hands rested on the arm wrapped around her and
I watched as if in a daze as his long fingers stroked through her red
hair.  Gently... carefully.  Even from the doorway I could see how
careful he was, how reverent.  The soft voices floating over to me
were too low to make out any specific words, but I saw Dana nod, and
smile up into the face of the man I loved - 

The man she loved.  My God, it was all there for me to see; how
could I have been so obtuse?  I could only hazard a guess as to how
long she'd loved him, in ways other than a friend.  I reckoned quite
a while, for the depth of emotion I saw in her shining eyes had to
have been growing for more than just a few weeks, or months.  Dana
was in love with Fox, and suddenly it did not matter whether or not
she was gravely ill - because the hand moving over her hair was the
most loving hand I had ever witnessed.  I could see it from here - I
could feel it as well.  I knew the capacity of those hands; I had
been the lucky recipient of their tenderness for these past few
years.  

But this was different.  This was much more than one friend
comforting and aiding another; this was more than partners huddling
together and reminiscing about their grand times.  These two people
adored each other; it was there in his fingers and in her eyes.  I
cursed myself for being a blind fool, as my vision blurred and the
tears ran hot and scalding down my cheeks.  I felt fright such as I
have never felt before in my life - fright and panic that I was
losing Fox, the overwhelming anxiety of it all wrapped up into a lump
that settled within my throat and threatened to suffocate me.  I
could not breathe; I spun on a heel and ran down the silent corridor,
somehow inanely remembering to run on my tiptoes so that my heels
would not clack and alert anyone to my presence.  

I did not want Fox to know what I had seen - I could not let Dana
witness my ravaged face.  A woman would read another so well, at a
time like this; it was what we women did.  I ran to the elevator and
jumped on, blindly pushing at buttons until I found the one that
closed the doors.  As it began to move I slumped against the far 
wall and slid down until I hit the floor, finally releasing the 
clogging tears from my aching throat.  The elevator was slow and 
I cried all the way down to the lobby, only scrabbling to my feet 
when I realized someone could be standing there at the door when 
it opened and would surely wonder about the crazy woman sobbing 
on the floor.

I walked out the double doors and through the well-lit parking lot,
numb.  I began the search for my car and walked in circles through
the rows of parked cars a good five minutes before I remembered that
I'd taken a taxi instead of driving.  Sighing wearily, I slogged back
to the main entrance and found a waiting cab; told the driver my
address and leaned my head against the padded seat.  

All the way back to my apartment I brooded over what I had seen,
finally coming to the unwelcome conclusion that Fox most likely
didn't realize the depth and timbre of his love.  Hopeless, to be
sure - for Dana was slipping away and there wasn't a thing to be done
about it.  But I was very attuned to him, and I could see - had in
that moment of involuntary voyeurism delved far enough into his soul
to know that he loved her in a way he could never love me.  And I
asked myself if, when Dana did pass on, could Fox ever see me in any
other light?  I thought about it as I rode through the streets back
to my place, wondering if I should wait and see... injured pride
telling me it was time to get out... my heart knowing that I could
not give up yet.  

Very soon, Fox would need someone to listen to his grief and to
offer him a shoulder and a loving embrace.  As long as he was in need
of me I would never just let it go - I couldn't.  As the taxi pulled
up to the curb in front of my building and I climbed out and paid my
fare, I told myself I would always be there.

Where else, after all, should I be?  I was a woman in love.

******************
end of chapter seven


~ Chapter Eight ~ 

He wasn't sleeping well.  Of course, that was assuming he'd
been sleeping at all.  He divided his time between sitting on the
edge of my hospital bed and God only knows where else.  Mulder had
been pretty closed-mouthed about what he did when he wasn't camped
out in my room, but if the dark circles under his eyes were any
indication, he wasn't getting any rest...

I glanced at the clock on the wall.  Almost five o'clock.  He would
be arriving shortly.  I noticed early on that he had taken to timing
his visits around mealtimes.  He would perch on the edge of the bed
and try coaxing me into eating.  If it didn't work, he would
pout, bully or plead with me to eat something, anything.  The
pleading was most effective and despite the ever-present, underlying
nausea that had robbed me of my appetite, I usually succumbed to the
imploring look in his eyes as I choked down a few bites of food.

I reached into the small drawer of the wheeled tray next to my bed
and pulled out a small mirror and brush.  I gently stroked the brush
through my hair, smoothing it and pushing it behind my ears,
studiously ignoring the strands of red tangled in the brush as I laid
it back into the drawer.  I raised the head of the bed and smoothed
the sheets over my lap, grimacing as I realized that I was primping
for Mulder.   Well, why not? I thought defensively.  I was tired of
seeing the sad look creep into his eyes every day when he first saw
me.  He always covered it quickly with a smile but I saw it lurking
there each time his eyes roved over my face, taking note of the
pallor of my skin, the shadows under my eyes.  Tonight - I just
wanted to enjoy his company.  I touched my fingers to the tiny bandage
covering the back of my neck.  Dr. Zuckerman had given me the result
of the PET scan I had undergone earlier today.  The chip - whatever
it was - didn't seem to be working. The scan showed no improvement -
my cancer was still spreading rapidly and I knew I didn't have a lot
of time left.

A sound outside of my door caught my attention and I took a deep
breath and composed my features.  The smile that spread over my face
was happy and genuine as Mulder stepped into view.

"Hi," he said as he crossed the room.  I scooted over, making room
for him on the bed next to me.  He put a small brown bag down onto
the bedside table and sank down into his spot as I tilted my face up
to his.  From the moment he first found me in the hospital earlier
this week, he has greeted me with a kiss.  His lips glanced off the
corner of my mouth and my lips curved upward in response.

"You look good," he smiled as he took one of my hands into his.  I
grinned, happy that I had taken the time earlier to fix my hair.  The
door swung open again and an orderly came in bearing my dinner.  He
set it down on the wheeled table and quickly left the room.  Mulder
wiggled his eyebrows comically as he lifted the plastic lid from the
tray.

"What do we have tonight?" he asked as he perused the meal spread
out over the tray.  I ignored the food, choosing instead to
concentrate on his face while he was distracted.  

"Mmmm," he said theatrically.  "Broiled chicken and rice," smacking
his lips and making 'yummy' noises.  I snorted and he looked up with
a smile.

"Tell you what," he was persuasive as he pushed the fork toward me. 
"If you eat at least half of that," he nodded toward the chicken, "I
won't make you eat the green Jell-o."  His tongue slipped out of his
mouth as he mock-gagged at the sight of the slimy, wiggly dessert.

"Mulder..." I began.  I really wasn't hungry but at least today the
mere smell of the food didn't make me sick.  I knew that I would give
in and eat and so did he.  But I had to lodge a protest if only for
the principle of it.  He shook his head and picked up the bag he had
brought with him.  

"At least half," he said again as he opened the bag.  "I brought you
a treeeaaat," he sing-songed.  I licked my lips and jutted my chin
toward the bag.

"What is it?" I asked suspiciously.  I'd wait to know what was
inside the bag before I caved in.  Mulder dug his hand down into the
bag and ceremoniously withdrew a small plastic tray covered in
cellophane.

"Lady Fingers," he crowed, waving the small package temptingly under
my nose.  I took the package into my hands and smoothed my fingers
over the label, blinking back tears.  It was silly really, to cry
over his gift, but the fact he remembered that I'd once told 
him of my mother's habit of supplying me with the bland little cakes
to eat when I wasn't feeling well touched me deeply. Keeping my head
lowered, I laid  the package on the bed and picked up my fork.  When 
my features were composed once again, I looked up at him.

"Half of everything?" I asked.  "Or just the chicken?"  Mulder
glanced over the tray of food and pursed his lips as if it was a
matter worthy of the deepest concentration.

"Well..." he began consideringly.  "Half of the chicken and the
rice," he suggested.  "But I won't make you eat this vegetable-like
substance."  He poked a finger at the small plastic cup that held an
unappealing glob of mixed vegetables.

"Thanks so much," I muttered as I lifted the first bite of chicken
to my mouth.  Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him pull a tea
bag from its paper envelope and dunk it into a cup of hot water
before adding a teaspoon of sugar and a drop or two of creamer.  Just
the way I liked it...  I forced the chicken down past the lump in my
throat and took the teacup from his hand.

"Thank you," I whispered, as I took a sip of tea.  After just a
couple of mouthfuls, I was already tired.  Mulder picked up the knife
and fork and cut the chicken into small pieces.  He stabbed a bite of
chicken onto the fork and for a moment, I thought he was going to
feed me.  He hesitated and then held the fork out to me.

"Just a couple more bites," he said encouragingly.  I took a deep
breath and continued eating under his watchful gaze.  I hadn't quite
reached Mulder's goal of half, but I couldn't choke down another bite
and I laid the fork onto the tray with a sigh.

"Close enough," he said as he put the plastic lid over the tray and
pushed it to one side.  He lifted the teacup again and held it out to 
me and I wrapped my fingers around the cup, absorbing the warmth
through my fingertips.  

"Is something going on?" I asked.  While he had been covering the
tray and straightening my blankets, his eyes had been distant and
pensive.  I knew the look well.  It was the look that told me he had
something on his mind and was brooding over it.  "You can tell me," I
encouraged as I set the cup down and laid my hand over his.  Mulder
nodded and turned his hand over, lacing his fingers with mine.

"I know," he said softly.  "I'm not ready to talk about it yet," he
said.  "Soon.  I'll tell you soon," he promised.  I wanted to inform
him that I didn't know how much time I had left, but I didn't want to
ruin the evening.  Instead I tightened my fingers around his.

"Can I have my Lady Fingers now?" I asked, deliberately lightening
the mood.  He grinned and picked up the package.  I let go of his hand
and he tore the cellophane open and lifted one small cake out of the
tray, tearing it in half.  He held one half of the treat to my lips
and I opened my mouth, savoring the bland yet sweet taste as the
light sponge cake melted on my tongue.  Mulder popped the other half
of the cake into his mouth and chewed.  He screwed his face up and
picked up another cake, studying it closely.

"It needs a cream filling," he pronounced gravely.  I snatched the
small, golden cake from his hand.

"Then it would be a Twinkie," I told him reprovingly.  Mulder nodded
and smiled.

"Exactly!" he exclaimed.  I huffed out a breath and took another
bite.  As I chewed, Mulder leaned forward and ran his thumb over the
corner of my mouth.

"Crumb," he explained quietly.  He kept his hand curved over my
cheek and I leaned into the warmth of his palm.  My heart
constricted as I stared at him... and suddenly I hoped that Mulder
was right in his belief in spirits and ghosts.  If I had to leave him
behind in this world, I wanted to be able to come back and be with 
him from another.

Mulder set the tray of Lady Fingers aside and scooted closer. 
Wrapping his arms around me, he pulled me against his chest.  I
curled my arms about his waist and buried my face in the collar of
his shirt, breathing in his scent, memorizing the feel of his flesh
and bones beneath my hands, absorbing him into my soul to take with
me when I had to go.  His hands stroked over my back and he rested
his cheek on the crown of my head.  We rocked slowly together and I
stifled a yawn against his chest.

"Go to sleep," he whispered.  I nestled closer and let my body grow
limp in his embrace.

"Stay until I'm asleep?" I asked around another yawn.

"I'll be here," he promised.  Knowing he would keep his promise, I
let sleep claim me.


*******************

My legs felt like lead as I forced one foot in front of the other. 
Climbing stairs when I could have taken the elevator, but I welcomed
the ache.  Pain meant that at least I was feeling something; at least
some part of my body had life.  Not my heart, though... not that
vital organ. Oh, it still beat and pushed blood throughout my system,
but that was about it.  

I rubbed at my aching eyes and came away with a wet hand.  The tears
must have been pouring down my face; no wonder the cabbie had been
staring at me on the ride over.  And I thought I'd cried it all out
at Scully's bedside... guess not.  Jesus, what a difference in
mindset between one night and another.  I'd left my apartment with
hope curving a smile on my lips and I was coming back to it in utter
despair.  Wearily I climbed the stairs.

I had pinned all those former hopes on the promise of a tiny chip
implant holding the magic cure for Scully's rapidly-spreading cancer.
So desperately eager to hear a voice, any voice, telling me that all
would be well - even if that voice had the sibilant hiss of Satan
himself.  Smokie had made yet another worthless promise and I'd leapt
right onto it with both feet poised for action.  I'd spent the better
half of the night on my knees beside Scully's bed, crying my despair
onto her small hand; she'd never stirred once.  Heavily-sedated, I
knew she would not awaken even though every cell in my body screamed
for her to open those blue, blue eyes of hers and shine some sort of
reassuring gaze on me.  

I had slipped gently trembling fingers underneath her hair, needing
to feel the tiny incision on her neck and acknowledge the presence of
that damn chip - the one that didn't seem to be working.  Another red
herring, white elephant, whatever I could call it - just another
placebo.  It was not helping and I knew it.  Scully knew it - and so
did her family.  Perhaps that was the worst of all; that I'd made a
promise to her family and now it was as though I couldn't deliver.

I'd once more lowered my face to her hand and cried against the cool
skin.

Now I walked slowly down my hallway and rubbed at my face with hands
that shook.  And they shook with anger as much as anything else.  In
those brief seconds before I reached my door I knew I would never
want to lay eyes on that smoking bastard again, for if I did I would 
surely kill him and subsequently spend my remaining days in prison
for murder.  I managed to unlock my door without dropping my key, and
walked in without bothering to put on a light.  So tired... God.  I
shuffled to my bedroom, tugging at my shirt -

Only to come up short at the sight of Lilly in my bed, asleep.  I
stared down at her in confusion, wondering why she was there,
forgetting for the moment that I'd told her to come over when she'd
had the time.  So, with the hallway light behind me throwing
illumination over my bed, I watched her sleep - the sleep of a young,
vibrant and healthy woman.

In that first minute I was so furiously angry, as I stood at the
foot of my bed and looked down at Lilly.  Angry - because I should
love this woman and yet what I felt paled to nothing when compared to
the avalanche of feeling brought on earlier when I'd kneeled at the
side of a hospital bed and cried all over Scully.  Anger at the sure
knowledge of that coveted 'normal life' slipping right through my
fingers unless I reached out and grabbed Lilly with both hands. 
Resentment that I couldn't be happy about it, and for more reasons
than just the imminent loss of Scully.

Awareness that Lilly was being grossly shortchanged because of my
inability to offer her anything more than what little I'd given 
her so far in our relationship.  

In the dim light Lilly slept on her side with a hand curled under
her cheek.  She was a lovely woman - sweet and kind and loving;
generous with herself and always ready to listen and offer her
support - deserving of a man who would worship the ground she walked
upon and be anxious as hell to marry her and spend his life giving
her children and the happiest of memories.  As I gazed at her I could
see superimposed over her features the pale, thin face of the woman I
had just begun to need more than food or air or even my own pathetic
life.  I had left it too late; had not possessed the brain matter to
see what had been in front of me all along. Now it was too late.  I
knew it, even as I fought to denounce it.  Too late for me and too
late for Scully, ah Christ... I fumbled for the edge of the bed and
sat down before I fell over.

"Fox." 

Lilly's sleepy murmur brought my attention back from the desolate
place it had been wandering, and I turned to face her as she sat up. 
I forced a smile and moved up closer to her, reaching out a hand to
squeeze her fingers gently.  Her hair was tousled and she smelled of
roses and sleep, and I felt a great wave of tenderness flood me as I
held her hand.  She was wonderful and I didn't love her, not the way 
she deserved to be loved.  She was everything I'd once thought I'd 
wanted, a full representation of that normal life I craved - and 
I couldn't take that step - not with her.  The only woman I would 
ever want to walk with lay in a hospital bed, weakening daily 
despite all that had been done to the contrary.  And I...

I had trusted the Devil to give me a cure that in all probability
was just another goddamned smoke screen.  Well, considering the
source - it was appropriate.

"Fox, are you all right?"  Lilly's soft hesitancy broke into my dark
thoughts, and I formed another hasty smile and nodded, slipping an
arm around her shoulders and giving her a gentle hug.  Lilly rested
her cheek into my neck and her query was mumbled into my skin.

"Have you been to see Dana?  How is she?"  I took a deep breath and
made my reply as positive as I could.

"She was asleep while I was there, but it seemed to be a good, solid
sleep.  I'm going to try talking to her doctor tomorrow, if he's
available."  Not quite the whole truth; I was actually going to talk
with the man just long enough to assure myself Scully was holding her
own - then I was going to track down the black-lunged snake who'd 
been responsible for the agony Scully was experiencing... and
throttle him until he swallowed the fillings in his nicotine-stained
teeth.

I shook away the nasty images brewing inside my head and released
Lilly, pressing her down into the mattress.  "You should get some
sleep, Lilly - you have to work in the morning."  I started to cover
her over with the blanket but she stayed my hand.

"I'm not going in tomorrow, Fox - I'll call in sick.  I don't want
you to be alone now - I really think I should stay with you, in case
you need... well, just in case.  Please, I don't mind.  Let me help."
In the gloom her eyes were pleading with me and I knew she was
offering much more than help - she was offering the assuage of my
inevitable grief.  And I felt again that flare of anger and
resentment, this time directed at Lilly.  With her words she was
accepting the loss of Scully, expecting and accepting it - and I
would not go there, even though in my conscious depths I would
eventually have to.  But I would not go there today, or tomorrow or
next week or month - I refused.  I shook my head and scraped together
one last parody of a smile.

"No, Lilly - you don't have to.  I'll be fine.  Why don't you try to
get some sleep, okay?  I have some work to do and if I get tired I'll
just doze on the sofa.  I'll take you back to your place tomorrow
morning on my way to the hospital."  I stood up and made a move
toward the door but Lilly again caught at my hand.

"Fox, won't you please just come to bed?  I've missed you... it's
been so long since we've had any time together.  I just want to
snuggle next to you and make sure you're really okay."  I shook my
head again, the drain of these past few days robbing me of the
ability to force another smile.  I gently disengaged her clinging
fingers and stepped away, steeling myself against the resigned
awareness I now saw in her eyes.

"No, Lilly - I can't sleep right now. I wouldn't be able to relax;
I'm too keyed up.  You sleep - and I'll just finish my work."  I
turned and walked out into the living room, heaving a sigh of relief
when she made no further attempt to detain me.  I went into the
kitchen and got a glass of water, filling and draining it twice.  I
felt dry as a desert inside and knew that regardless of how much
water I downed I would need even more.  I filled up the glass a third
time and sat at the kitchen table in the dark, sipping at it and
thinking about Scully... wishing I were there with her right now. 
There with her, absorbing her sweetness and not wasting any more
precious time.  Precious, every second of it - valuable beyond
measure.  And I sat in the dark and crammed water down my throat.  

What an asshole I was.

Three minutes later I was out the door and running down the hallway,
on my eager way to Scully.  It would be hours later before I realized
that in my urgency to get back to the hospital, I had put Lilly out
of my mind... all too easily.

************************


Two days after my aborted attempt to visit Dana, I found myself once
again walking the hallways of Trinity Hospital. Empty-handed this
time, my steps faltering as I drew closer to her room, my stomach
clenched at the thought of finding Fox tenderly cradling Dana in his
arms again. What was I doing here? I wondered. If, indeed, Fox were
with Dana, would I turn and run again? Two days ago, I had come to
this hospital naively hoping to bring some cheer into Dana's room
with my silly little gift while at the same time, hoping to persuade
Fox to come home with me for a little while to rest. I was ashamed
that my intentions today were much more self-serving. I'm not sure
what I thought I would accomplish with today's visit. I already knew
Dana was in love with Fox and judging by the sick feeling in the
pit of my stomach, I was almost certain that he returned those
feelings. Was I here looking for proof that I had lost him to her or
reassurance that he was still mine? I ruthlessly suppressed the tiny
voice whispering that I was really looking for proof that in few
days or weeks it wouldn't matter any longer.

I stumbled to a halt and grabbed onto the wall for support when
Dana's door swung open and a priest stepped out. Hot tears flooded my
eyes belying my worries that jealousy had made me mean and ugly and I
gratefully realized that no matter what, I could never wish for the
death of the young woman on the other side of that door in order to
ensure my own happiness. I waited for a moment but there was no rush
of doctors or nurses into her room, no sounds of mournful weeping.
Perhaps, I wasn't too late after all.

I took a deep breath and laid my hand on the smooth wood of the
door, mentally preparing myself to accept whatever it was that I
found in that room. I pushed the door open gently and took one step
inside and stopped, taking a moment to study the woman lying in the
bed on the other side of the room. She was alone and her face was
turned toward the window, but even from this distance I could see the
gaunt cheeks and pale skin. Her fingers rested lightly over the tiny
gold cross that I knew she always wore around her neck and her gaze
was fixed on the sunlight spilling through the blinds. I took another
step toward the bed and cleared my throat softly. 

************ 

I sighed at the delicate sound of someone clearing her throat and
rolled my head toward the source, resigned to submitting to the
demands of yet another nurse or medical technician looking to draw
blood or check my vitals. My eyes widened, the small measure of
peace I had attained with Father McCue's visit vanishing at the sight
of Lillian hovering in the doorway. I fumbled for the elevation
controls on the left rail of my bed and hastily raised the head of
the mattress into a sitting position.

"Lillian," I said slowly as I forced a tired smile onto my face.
Mulder had mentioned to me a few days ago that he thought she might
stop by to see me, but I was still surprised to find her here. She
crossed the room hesitantly and I gestured toward the guest chair
next to the bed.

"Mulder was here about two hours ago," I began but she shook her
head and leaned back into the vinyl seat.

"I'm sorry I haven't been by to see you sooner," she blurted
apologetically. I waved her apology off with one hand and she nodded.
She was nervous and her hands moved restlessly in her lap.

"How are you?" she finally asked as she looked up at me. I shook my
head and picked at a loose thread in the blanket draped over my legs
and we lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Lillian agitatedly ran
her thumb over the glossy polish on the fingertips of her other hand
and I waited in confusion for her to begin to speak. When she wasn't
forthcoming, I realized as I watched her sitting next to my bed that
there was something I needed to say to her.

"Lillian," I said quietly and she lifted her eyes to mine. "I..." I
stopped, unsure of how to put into words what I was feeling, what I
needed to say. I licked my lips and once again touched my fingers to
the tiny cross around my neck. I had promised myself only a short
while ago to start putting my affairs into order. I'd had a
lawyer draw up a will and other testamentary documents several years
ago. I don't own a home but I'd made arrangements for my family
members to take whatever they wanted of my personal possessions as
keepsakes and to have the remainder of my property sold. Any money
from the sale of my property was to be combined with the proceeds of
my life insurance, my savings and retirement plans and was to be
invested to help pay the college tuition of any nieces and nephews
that I may have. Bill and Tara were expecting their first child in a
few months and I hoped that someday Charlie would meet someone and
settle down to raise a family of his own. I told my mother before she
left my room this morning that I wanted to be sure that Mulder be
given my cross. I had made no provisions for him in my will - he
didn't need my money - but I wanted him to have this small reminder
of me.

Looking at Lillian, I knew it was time for me to finalize the most
important detail. Mulder. I needed to be sure that he would be taken
care of before I could rest.

"Lillian," I said again. Drawing in a shaky breath I lifted my eyes
to hers. "I wanted to talk to you about Mulder," I said softly. Her
eyes skittered away from mine and dropped back to her fidgeting
hands. I cleared my throat nervously. 

"I think..." I blew out an impatient breath and tried to compose my
thoughts. "I'm not getting better Lillian," I finally said. Her eyes
shot back up to mine.

"Fox said..." she began but her gaze wandered over my face and she
knew the truth. I smiled sadly.

"Mulder doesn't want to admit what is right in his face," I told her
quietly. "And that is going to make this so much harder for him," I
whispered. I went back to picking at the blanket as I struggled for
the right words.

"I know I don't have any right to pry into your relationship
with Mulder and I hope that you don't take this the wrong way," I
began. "But he's going to need you to -" Lillian held up her hand and
interrupted me.

"You're in love with him," she murmured. Her eyes were brimming with
tears, but her face was kind and her voice held no accusation. I
sucked in a surprised breath and felt tears prick the back of my own
eyes. I couldn't deny it, but neither could I admit it to her. I
couldn't - wouldn't - burden Mulder with my feelings at this late
date, and if I couldn't tell him the truth of my feelings, I wouldn't
tell anyone.

"I think he's in love with you too," Lillian said and I saw the
sadness and despair in her eyes. I closed my own eyes against the
pain of her words. Too late, too late, too late, I thought. I waited
and wasted so many years. I said a quick and fervent prayer for the
strength to continue.

"Lillian," I began. "I'm his best friend." She huffed out a 
disbelieving breath as I added, "He may think his feelings 
for me have changed, but Lillian, that's just grief talking." 
I thought of the tender hugs and late nights that he had spent 
with me over the last few months. The gentle kisses and waking 
to find him beside my bed. There is a difference between loving 
someone and being in love with them and that's what I tried to 
tell Lillian.

"I know Mulder has been spending most of his free time with me,
Lillian," I said. "And I just... I want you to know how much I
appreciate your patience."

"Oh, Dana...I..." She shook her head and rubbed her fingers over her
eyes, automatically denying the validity of my statement. I sat up
and leaned forward.

"I know how many dates Mulder has canceled, how preoccupied he has
been, of late," I said. "I needed him and I've been selfish, hoarding
his time and you've been very... gracious." My voice trailed off into
a choked whisper and I furiously blinked away the tears that were
blinding me.

"Dana..." Lillian said, casting her eyes around the room before her
gaze landed back on my face. "I... he needed to be here," she told
me. I knew she was right just as I knew it must have been terribly
difficult for her to sit by while Mulder lavished so much of his time
and attention on me.

"I know I have no right to ask you for any favors," I said quietly.
"But I'm going to ask you to promise me something." Her lips were
drawn down in sad curve and her eyes were red-rimmed and in their
soft, brown depths I saw confusion.

"He feels everything so intensely," I told her. "Especially guilt.
Please, promise me that you won't let him wallow in it." She seemed
startled by my request and I plunged ahead before I lost the nerve to
continue.

"He's going to need someone to lean on when I'm gone," I said.
"Don't let him run off half-cocked trying to avenge me," I begged.
"Keep him home, stay with him." I looked away from her for a moment
and stared out the window at the sunshine and bright blue sky of
what promised to be another lovely fall day.  There wouldn't be many
more of them, for me... I blinked back tears of self-pity and turned
back to Lillian.

"I know how much you love him," I told her and I smiled softly. "And
I feel so selfish for saying this to you, but I need to know... I
can't rest until I'm sure..." I stopped and knuckled a stray tear
from my lashes. "I can't rest until I know he that he is going to be
taken care of," I said.

Lillian rose out of the chair and stood next to my bed. She lifted
her hands to her face and wiped away the tears that were streaking
her cheeks. She laid one hand over mine and squeezed it softly.

"I promise."

**************** 

After Lillian left my hospital room, the tears I'd been
struggling to hold back spilled over.  Lying in my bed, fingering the
rosary that Father McCue had left with me, I tried to regain the
acceptance I had found while praying with him that morning.  But the
tension of my visit with Lillian combined with the long bout of
weeping after she was gone had left me with a raging headache.  After
trying to cope with the pain for more than an hour, I finally rang
for the nurses and requested a painkiller.  The morphine drip barely
took the edge off of the furious pounding behind my eyes and left me
nauseous.  Even under the influence of heavy medication, I was unable
to sleep.  I was afraid to sleep because I knew that once I finally
did, I wouldn't reawaken and I had one more thing to do.

I had to say goodbye.

Mulder came back to the hospital late in the afternoon after his
confrontation with Section Chief Blevins and the FBI review panel. 
He settled into his customary place next to me on the mattress and
his long fingers played with the tiny beads of my rosary as he began
to fill me in on the events that had transpired only a short while
earlier at the Hoover Building.

"You're tired," he said finally said as he looked into my face. 
"This can wait until tomorrow."  He stroked his fingers lightly
through my hair.  "Why don't you try to get some sleep," he
suggested.  I reached out and caught his wrist with my hand and
although my grip was weak, it was enough to cause him to sit back
down.

"Mulder," I rasped and he reached for the small plastic pitcher on
the tray by my bed and filled a cup with cool water.  He slid his
hand under the back of my head and supported me as I took a couple of
sips of water.  Exhausted by even the most simple of movements, I
slumped back into the pillows as he set the cup down.

"What is it, Scully?" he asked.  His hands were busy rearranging the
various items on the top of the tray and he bit at his lips
nervously, refusing to meet my gaze.  I laid my hand on his leg.

"Mulder," I whispered again.  "Look at me."  Reluctantly, he stopped
fidgeting with a tiny box of tissues and raised his eyes to mine.

"Dr. Zuckerman gave me the results of my PET scan yesterday," I
began quietly.  Mulder immediately looked away and began to shake his
head back and forth.  

"Mulder, please," I implored as he pushed the tray out of his way
and climbed to his feet.  

"No," he said.  "Scully, I don't care what the tests say..." He took
a step back from the bed and stumbled into the tray, knocking the
tissues and pitcher of water to the floor.

"Fuck!" he swore as he strode toward the tiny bathroom.  He came
back with a handful of paper towels and squatted next to the bed,
mopping up the water that had formed a puddle on the linoleum.  I
shifted, painfully turning onto my side and held out my hand.

"Let that go, Mulder," I begged.  He ignored me and continued to mop
up the spill.  I stretched my fingers toward him.

"Mulder," I said.  He hung his head and I watched his chest rise and
fall as he sucked oxygen into his lungs.  He looked up and my vision
blurred at the sight of the tears rolling silently down his cheeks. 
He pitched the wet towels into the wastebasket and scrambled to his
feet.

"Don't, Scully," he pleaded.  "Please, you've got to believe that
you can beat this.  You can't... you can't..." He pressed the heels
of his hands against his eyes, hiding his face from me.  "Please,
Scully.  You've got to try."  I felt hot tears brim and spill over my
lashes.  I reached out again and my fingers brushed against his white
shirt.

"Oh, Mulder," I sighed.  "I wish there was a way - " He grabbed my
hands in a bruising grip and sat back down next to me.

"There is," he insisted.  "Just believe, Scully.  Please," he
whispered as he pressed our joined hands to his lips.  "Please try." 
I slid one hand free and ran my fingers through the hair that had
spilled over his forehead.

"I'm tired, Mulder," I said softly.  "I'm so tired."  Mulder gasped
and dropped his head onto my stomach.  His shoulders shook with great
hitching sobs.

"Don't leave me, Scully," he pleaded.  "Please don't go away."  He
wrapped his arms around me and burrowed his face against me and I
could feel his tears soaking through the thin, cotton hospital gown. 
"I can't... I can't do this without you," his voice was a broken
whisper. 

I tugged on his shoulders and he climbed into the bed next to me. 
Drawing his head onto my shoulder I threaded my fingers through 
his thick hair.

"I don't want to leave you, Mulder," I said softly.  "I would stay
with you forever if I could."  He sighed and wound his arms even
tighter around me.  "I'll always be with you," I promised.  "But I
don't think I can stay with you here, in this place anymore..."

Mulder shifted slightly and laid his head between my breasts,
pressing his ear over my heart.  His body continued to shudder as he
wept in my arms.  Finally, I felt his rigid posture soften and his
sobs quiet as he matched his breathing to my own, his head rising and
falling with every breath that I took.

Together, we watched the sun go down and as darkness encroached into
the room, we slept.

*******************

Perhaps an hour or two after we had fallen asleep, the wind rattled a 
window in her room and the sound roused me enough from my uneasy
sleep for me to recall that I was in bed with Scully, and holding
her.  For a minute I was disoriented; my eyes burned and ached and 
my face felt tight from the tears I'd shed earlier in the day.  
I turned my head on the pillow and let my arms tighten around 
Scully's thin body, counting the breaths I felt her take against 
my side.  They were steady, thank God - deep and steady.  

I shifted a little in the bed and cuddled her closer, now wide awake
and knowing there would be no more rest for me.  I would rather stay
awake anyhow - hoarding these precious hours and hugging them to
myself, gladly watching over her and counting the minutes until dawn.
In the dim room her pale face was never more beautiful than now,
relaxed and serene, all the shadows of her illness smoothed away as
if by magic.  Her hand lay against my chest, fingers curled into my
shirt and pressed to my heart, and her lips nuzzled into my neck; I
treasured the feel of it - of Scully.

Yet even as I cherished this time with her, residual anger, black
and rending, threatened to displace any quiet joy I felt, and I
fought to keep it at bay as I held her.  Anger at the cards we'd been
dealt, years ago when we were only beginning to understand the
magnitude of this conspiracy in which we'd become embroiled. 
Helplessness so complete it caused actual pain - that I was, in spite
of all I'd done, losing her.  My heart could refuse to accept it from
now until Doomsday, but my mind was too sore and exhausted to fight. 
Yet I had to fight - I could not let her go.

If I let her go, I'd die.  There would be no reason to go on.

I lay awake with Scully in my arms and so many small things fell
into exact and precise place; things I'd felt and things for which
I'd attained an awareness these past few years.  Times when the tilt
of her head or the placement of one small hand could make the
difference between a good day or a bad one.  The simple happiness I
could obtain from nothing more than needling her science and waiting
for her ascending eyebrow, or her slow burn as she digested my half-
baked theory with true Scully disdain.  The times I watched for that
one small upwards curl of her mouth, as she grudgingly allowed
herself amusement at my expense... I realized now that I would gladly
put myself at her expense time and again for the rest of my life if
it meant I could see her little smile, and join in her amusement.

It seemed as though I'd been born loving Scully... that somehow I'd
grown up with an innate knowing, of a redheaded child who would
someday own my soul and control my heart with nothing more
complicated than the soft way she spoke the word, 'Mulder'...

It would not have mattered how many women I'd met; how many lovely
women such as Lilly could cross my path in one lifetime.  I knew
without a single doubt I would never have been satisfied with what I
may have found in their arms or in their offered love.  I knew that
now.

As the hours crept deeper into the night I held my love in my arms and
plotted with desperate calculation the obliteration of the enemy
within her frail body, prepared to do battle with any and all demons -
until its defeat was in my grasp.  And as full darkness slipped in
through the slotted blinds at the windows I as gently slid from her
embrace and tucked the blankets around her shoulders.  Pressing a
kiss to her soft hair and silently promising her a miracle, I left
Scully in God's capable hands - and went off to find a demon to
fight.

***********
end of chapter eight