From: donnilee@snet.net Date: 2 Jun 2003 21:12:17 -0700 Subject: [atxc-pi] NEW: "Truckin'" (00/14) Source: atxc Title: "Truckin'" Author: FatCat Donnilee Author Email: donnilee@snet.net Status: NEW - Standalone Size: 448k Rating: NC-17 Archive at Gossamer: Yes to Gossamer/Ephemeral Category: Adventure , Romance, Angst Keywords: None Pairings: Mulder/Scully Romance Spoilers: Pilot, Pine Bluff Variant, Millennium, Closure, Talitha Cumi, 3, Triangle, Per Manum, Tooms, Momento Mori, Milagro, First Person Shooter Summary: Mulder and Scully go undercover as an over the road, married driving team to break up a hijacking ring. "Truckin'" by FatCat Donnilee donnilee@snet.net Part 1 Please see part 0 (template) for warnings and summary. TITLE: TRUCKIN' AUTHOR: FATCAT & DONNILEE E-MAIL: FatCat926@msn.com / donnilee@snet.net RATING: NC-17 SPOILERS: Pilot, Pine Bluff Variant, Millennium, Closure, Talitha Cumi, 3, Triangle, Per Manum, Tooms, Momento Mori, Milagro, First Person Shooter. DISCLAIMER: Sometimes the urge just hits you take a ROAD TRIP! Oh, you mean the story? The characters aren't ours unfortunately. Frankly, I think we do better with them than their owners. But alas, they belong to their creator, Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. We're both poor as church mice. Don't sue. SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully go undercover as an over the road, married driving team to break up a hijacking ring. AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is FatCat's and my first attempt at writing as a team. We had great fun! Hope you enjoy the spewing of our combined imaginations. She wrote Scully, I wrote Mulder and away we went. THANKS: To our beta reader extraordinaire, Fran Hartman for doing her usual bang up job. When she's not looking, we call her "grammar nazi." Affectionately, of course! DEDICATION: I think this has to be dedicated to Mimic117, who caterwauled the longest and loudest for the completion of this fic. And I mean that in the nicest way, darling! This one's for you! PART 1 (PG) FBI HEADQUARTERS HOOVER BUILDING THIRD FLOOR - A.D. SKINNER'S OFFICE 3:00 PM - THURSDAY "Come in, Agents. Have a seat." A.D. Skinner gestured toward his conference table. I exchanged a glance with Mulder before we moved as one to take seats opposite Skinner and the two unidentified men. "Agents Dana Scully and Fox Mulder. These gentlemen are Mr. Franklin Thomas and Mr. Dennis McMahon of the Morehead Insurance Company." Skinner made short work of the introductions. "Mr. Thomas and Mr. McMahon have been investigating a number of hijackings and murders that have occurred involving a trucking company covered by Morehead." "Excuse me, Sir, but exactly what does that have to do with Agent Mulder and me, or the FBI for that matter?" I asked politely before Mulder could insult everyone present asking the same question in that insolent, scathing way of his. "The Director has approved the investigation into these incidents because the victims have been transported across state lines before being killed, and because the cargos that have been hijacked have all been federal property." Again I exchanged glances with Mulder. "Isn't that handled by the Department of Transportation, Sir?" he asked. "Normally, Agent Mulder, that would be the usual agency to handle this case, but there are extenuating circumstances that exclude pursuit of the investigation through the DOT. Mr. Thomas, if you would," Skinner indicated the man on his left. "Agents, I have been in charge of this investigation for several months. It has come to my attention during this time that there are possible links to the DOT and several other governmental agencies; links that seem to indicate a large number of federal employees are involved in these crimes." He looked from one agent to the other, trying to make sure they understood the gravity and scope of this investigation. "Those are serious charges, Mr. Thomas," I said. "Do you have the kind of proof you will need to bring this operation down?" Mr. McMahon broke in with, "No, and that's where you two come in." "What the Director wants is an undercover operation, using FBI personnel. When the task force asked for a few of our best teams to be considered for the job, your names were mentioned by the Director himself," Skinner interjected. "That's very flattering, Sir, but we're not a trained part of the undercover task force. Mulder and I have only gone undercover a few times; once with near disastrous results," I shot back. Mulder interjected, "The director probably just wants us off the X- Files." "We're aware of your lack of undercover training, Agent Mulder, but you and Agent Scully have a partnership that is known to be out of the ordinary," Thomas said. "Your solve rate is statistical proof of that." Skinner added, "You are close and work well together. You both know that agents are closer with their partner than their spouse sometimes, and that's especially evident with you two. I don't have to tell you that your partnership is nearly legendary in the Bureau. And yes, your solve rate has a lot do with you being selected by the Director. He may not know you personally, but he knows the numbers, and he knows your solve rate, even if he's not always impressed with your methods." "Just what kind of operation are you looking to run, Mr. Thomas?" I asked, secretly pleased at Skinner's praise as well as slightly uncomfortable with the comments about being so close. I was getting a bad feeling about this whole conversation. Skinner looked at us for a moment and then said, "This will be a deep-cover operation. You will not be able to contact your families or friends. You will be given a cover story for your absence. You will not be able to surface until the hijacking ring has been completely eliminated, or heaven forbid, your cover is blown." Mulder and I exchanged glances again. "What..." I cleared my throat. "What would our cover be?" Skinner picked up the conversation at this point, "You will be working as an over-the-road driving team for one of Morehead's clients, Global-Tech Express." My eyebrow shot toward my hairline. "With all due respect, sir, this is ludicrous. Neither Agent Mulder nor I have ever driven a semi and now you expect us to pass ourselves off as professional truck drivers?" Skinner held back the smile that threatened to crack his face. "Agent Mulder? Would you like to handle this?" Mulder turned to face me, squirming in his chair. "Scully, I do have truck driving experience. The summer before I went to Oxford, I worked at a logging camp in Maine. I wasn't a lumber jack. I was actually the cook's help until one of the regular drivers broke his arm unloading logs at the paper mill. They sent me to school and I drove for them for quite a while." "So you learned to drive a semi?" I was incredulous. "Yeah, I learned," he smirked. XXXXXXXXXX "By the end of summer I was the top driver. Not needing much sleep gave me an edge on the other guys. Oh, and by the way, if you want to sound like a truck driver, call it a 'big rig'. No self- respecting truck driver ever says 'semi'. They say 'rig' or 'big rig', or maybe 'big truck.'" "Thanks for the vocabulary lesson," she said sarcastically, unable to keep her annoyance out of her voice. "That's all well and good, but what about me? I don't know how to drive a ... big rig. I don't have my Class A driver's license and neither do you anymore, for that matter. What would be my role in this operation?" She sounded as if she definitely wasn't going to enjoy this. Knowing Scully as I do, I could almost see the dread in her eyes as she got a mental picture of herself in a short, pink waitress uniform. "Well, Agent Scully..." Mr. Thomas began. I interrupted, "Scully, you can be my 'better half' and take care of all the paperwork, etc." I began to grin and added, "I'm sure the idea of you doing all the paperwork appeals to you immensely. You know, finding ways to weasel out of filling out expense reports and case reports on concluded X-Files is my specialty. Just think of it, you can have complete control of the paper trail from day one." "Why don't I like the way you said that, Mulder?" she growled. I knew she felt like she was being ganged up on. I'd accepted this easily and it began to bother her. Suspicion of the true meaning of 'better half' began to dawn on her. As soon as it hit me what they were proposing, I liked the idea of this assignment even more. "Just what is a 'better half', Mulder?" she glared at me. Skinner interjected, "You'd be posing as man and wife, Agent Scully." That was it. Her jaw dropped. "That's preposterous!" she nearly shouted. I didn't miss the two insurance investigators' smirks over her indignation. Scully was not amused. She turned to give them her death stare, making it clear that she was anything but amused. Scully in full chill mode made their mirth disappear immediately. That however, made me smile softly at her. "It wouldn't be so bad, Scully." In a calm voice, she asked, "Mulder, do you know how small those sleepers must be?" She made a sound of disgust with her tongue. I frowned. Before I could respond, Mr. Thomas said, "We had anticipated an objection on those grounds, Agent Scully, and we've arranged for you to have one of our newest trucks with the largest sleeper compartment available. That's an optional feature we don't usually indulge in. The bed is nearly a double bed. You normally won't be sleeping at the same time anyway. Even though it is close quarters, A.D. Skinner has assured us that it should be adequate for two professionals such as you and Agent Mulder." "What about bunk beds?" I asked. "I can look into that," McMahon replied. Thomas continued. "It comes with a small refrigerator, microwave, stereo, headphones, sizeable clothing compartments and a small sink with a vanity mirror." "What? No TV?" I grinned at him. "Of course, I forgot to mention the television-vcr-dvd combination mounted in the sleeping area," Thomas assured me. "Lucky me," Scully muttered. "Hey, I was only kidding." I was impressed. Skinner was regarding me thoughtfully. "We've also consulted with a driving school in Somers, CT. We can send you there for a private crash course for your Class A license. Mulder will probably do most of the driving." "I don't know, Sir," Scully said. "Agent Scully, I know it sounds daunting, but the only real reason for you to have your license is in case of emergency." McMahon again contributed to the conversation, "DOT regulations are a lot stricter than when you drove, Agent Mulder. Long haul truckers are no longer allowed to drive for twenty-fours straight like in the old days." "What are the rules now?" I asked. "I have a whole list of them here," he said as he slid a file across the table towards me. I put my hand on it but didn't open it. "Summarize for me," I requested. McMahon nodded. "Well, drivers are cut off at ten hours. After that, they have to take an eight hour break. A lone driver will often drive for five, sleep for four, drive five, sleep four. This enables him to make better time than shutting down for an entire eight hours and allows him to take advantage of the low traffic times on the highways." "The dead of night was usually best," I commented. Scully was glaring at us again. I knew it seemed as if we had completely skipped over her objections. "That's still true. However, when you have a team, they usually drive straight through; eight hour shifts, alternating drivers. One drives, one sleeps and then they switch. In your case, if you felt the need to do most of the driving, you could drive like a lone driver, or you could just fudge the books to make it look like Agent Scully took over when she didn't. Because of the delicate nature of the operation, we are willing to bend the rules here a little and take a chance on circumventing the DOT regulations. We want these people caught." I looked at Scully who was still frowning fiercely. "Scully, the backing up, docking, and parking are the hard parts and I could always do those. Driving on the open highway is easy. As long as you learn to shift properly, and I've every confidence you can do that, you wouldn't have a problem. I've seen some of these new trucks. They're fabulous." "It's still a truck," Scully said under her breath. Thomas added, "They are. Not like the old days when you needed muscle. Power steering, power brakes, and air ride are all standard on our trucks. Oh, and I almost forgot, adjustable seats." "So the little women can drive?" she asked sarcastically. "Agent Scully ..." Skinner said softly, his voice a warning growl. She frowned heavily, embarrassed at the subtle reprimand. This sort of attitude and objections were usually coming from me. She knew Skinner was surprised that she was protesting so much. Thomas answered her as if she hadn't been hostile. "Not at all. It cuts down on fatigue for the drivers. The less physical it is, the more alert they remain. Cuts down on accidents. Air ride seats are great not only for fatigue, but it cuts down on back and kidney problems that used to be a chronic health issue for a lot of old time drivers. All that vibrating beats up the body after a few years." She looked down, suddenly ashamed of her outburst. It wasn't like her to be so defensive. I could tell she needed to get a grip and think this out after we left the meeting. "I'm sorry, Mr. Thomas. I didn't mean to sound nasty," she said quietly. "Not a problem. You have a right to have all your questions answered and I'd be happy to do that. If I can't, I'll find someone who can. I'm not a trucker myself, although I used to be before I went to work for Morehead. However, I've had to familiarize myself with all aspects of the industry in this line of work and keep up with all the changes in laws. They vary from state to state as well, concerning permits and such, which frankly, is a pain in the ass," he ended, his lips curling into an exasperated smile. She looked at him and then turned to Skinner again. "Sir, aren't there partners more qualified than Mulder and I?" It was her last effort. He frowned. "Not really. Mulder has the background, even if it was a while ago, so he will have the easiest time relearning. Plus, you two are close, one of our best teams. If anyone can pull off acting like a married couple, it's you. You don't have to smooch for the public, Agent Scully, just work as a team ... which is what you do best." He said quietly, "You two are best friends." Skinner's remark shocked her into saying a curt, "So what?" Mr. Thomas answered for him with a question, "How do most old, married couples act?" I answered him, "Like best friends." Thomas smiled broadly. "Exactly. You two can pull it off because you do know each other so well. Most people in the industry are uncomplicated folk, but they aren't stupid. And you'd be surprised at how well they read people. They see a couple that looks uncomfortable with each other, doesn't know anything about each other on a personal level ... well, they aren't going to buy it." McMahon added, "Even same sex teams are close. It's a tight environment to live in, for sure. I won't lie to you about that. But that's exactly why we need a couple of agents that can stand being around each other that much. Plus, in some of the other male/female agent teams, one or the other is married and their spouses would never. . . consent to let them go on the road with their opposite-sex work partners." She looked at her lap, seeing that her arguments were being ditched neatly, one by one. She sighed loudly, "I don't like that I won't be able to contact my family. What if there was an emergency? For that matter, what about my financial obligations?" Skinner said, "Kimberly will personally take care of paying all your bills. You can make arrangements with her tomorrow. And in case of a family emergency, you may give them my direct line number here and my personal home number when you inform them of your 'assignment'. If anything happens, we can pull you off the road immediately." "How will you find us?" she asked. Thomas said, "All the trucks are equipped with a computer with a satellite link over which you receive your routing instructions." "Satellites?" she asked. "Yes, we track our trucks wherever they go. We can find you in a heartbeat if a call comes in that you're needed or there is an emergency. We can locate you with no problem and send a message over the satellite." "Wow," I said. "Times have changed for sure." Thomas smiled. "All for the better, mostly. I can't say that I enjoy all of the regulations placed on the industry but a large number of them are beneficial to the drivers and the industry. Most changes deal with safety for the drivers and the public. The rest deal with protecting the companies from legalities." "People can be stupid near big trucks," I said, easily sliding back into the lingo. "Yes, they can. They don't understand how powerful the vehicle is. They cut in front of them not realizing that a fully loaded tractor trailer, going fifty-five miles an hour, can take nearly a quarter mile to come to a complete stop." Scully's eyes widened at this piece of information. I replied, "And it doesn't matter that the four wheeler was at fault most times." "No, because the other party IS usually the one that gets hurt and 'YOU' are the professional driver," McMahon agreed with me. "So you get bagged with the responsibility," I replied. "Exactly. As a professional, you're supposed to be better than the average driver ... drive defensively ... take evasive actions ... follow the rules of the road, know your truck and your load and drive accordingly." "What would we be hauling?" I asked. Thomas said, "It would vary. Really, that would be up to the trucking company. I have requested that you not have to pull any dual trailers or haul any hazardous materials. Other than that, it could be anything. You would actually be doing the job for real. Some of your loads might involve supplies for the military, computers for the government, metal for the ship building yards. It could be anything. But since the hijackers are targeting government loads, you'd be hauling almost exclusively government facility loads." I nodded, nonplussed by this. I said, "Trailers are easier than the flat beds used for logging. If I could flatbed a logger, I'm sure I can get the hang of a trailer." "They are bigger than they used to be," he warned. "Forty-three and forty-eight footers used to be the standard," I commented. "We have fifty-three foot trailers now. That's the largest and probably what you would be driving most of the time. You'll be hauling heavy loads." "Which means stopping at weigh stations throughout the country," Scully chimed in. "Exactly, and checking them out while you're there, seeing if you spot any suspicious activity by the DOT employees, anyone hassling you unnecessarily." "I imagine the paperwork is monstrous," she sighed. "Yes, unfortunately, you have to keep careful logs of your time driving, your distances, etc. Your average speeds are calculated from that so the companies can detect anyone racing on the roads out there. They know exactly how long it should take you to get from point A to point B going the speed limit. If you make it in half the time, there's a problem. Most of the trucks have governors on them anyway." "Governors?" she asked. "Devices that don't allow the truck to go over 65 miles an hour," Mr. Franklin supplied. "Don't be a cowboy, in other words," I joked. "Right. But they give you plenty of time usually. It's rare with the government that there is a rush job. You usually have a couple DAYS wiggle room to account for any mechanical problems or detours, etc. So you may actually find yourself with down time in some interesting places." "See that, Scully?" I teased. "You don't need to join the Army to see the world. Just become a long-haul truck driver." I smiled gently at her in spite of her misgivings. I was trying to lighten the mood and make her feel better about it. I actually felt excited about this assignment. Of course, I have no family to worry about. I was instantly stabbed with a dart of guilt for thinking that way. Lord knows, I have been responsible for enough pain in her life, and the lives of her family members. I knew she wouldn't trade places with me for the world. She loved her family and I knew she couldn't imagine what it was like to the be the last one in your immediate family. I hoped she'd never have to find out, never have to know that kind of loneliness. Quietly, a wave of affection stole over me for my partner. We were close, best friends. I knew she trusted me like I trusted her, but why did this assignment make her so nervous? She gazed up at me and sighed again, turning to Skinner. "We're not getting out of this, are we, Sir?" she asked, realizing that her arguments never stood a chance from the beginning. He shook his head slowly. "Afraid not, Agent Scully, unless there are some extenuating circumstances." "What about the X-Files?" Scully asked. "We do have other agents who could be trusted to handle a case or two if something urgent comes up. But I don't anticipate anything that can't be set aside until you return." Skinner was trying to assure her that they would be back on the X-Files when we returned. "What will our cover story be to our families and others?" she asked. "That we're sending you out of the country to work with Interpol on a classified basis," Skinner answered right away. Scully swallowed and nodded. Skinner wrapped up the meeting. "We'll meet again tomorrow to go over details, such as contacting the trucking company, who your contacts will be, reporting, etc. We'll meet here at 8:00 AM. We could be here all day. I have a representative from the trucking company coming in to talk with you. Then, you'll be leaving Sunday night and flying into Bradley International Airport in Hartford, CT. You start school Monday morning." "Oh, goody," she said, seemingly unable to help this last bit of sarcasm. It wasn't like Scully not to be able to control herself, or act in a professional manner. The men chuckled and they all stood. Mr. Thomas said, "Agent Scully?" "Yes?" "I know you're not ... happy about this, but you are our last hope, the FBI I mean, the undercover operation. We've been at this for months ... I've lost a couple of good friends to these guys . . . we don't want more lives lost ... and we have no solid leads." He paused, "We need you." She nodded. I wondered again why she was so reluctant and being so contrary about this. This was what we signed on for. We were Special Agents of the FBI. And if I could do this, then so could she. This wasn't about whether she could fit in or drive a rig. I knew that she could learn anything if she put her mind to it. I think I'd been on the X-files too long... even my partner's thoughts were becoming a mystery to solve. I had a feeling I knew exactly what this was about. The challenge of playing at being married again was making Scully remember how difficult it had been during our case at the Falls of Arcadia. Being assigned to play house with Scully brought up feelings that I kept carefully locked away most of the time. Close quarters with her would be difficult at best, but I had kept my feelings under wraps for several years and I felt confident that I would be able to handle this assignment. Then again, it would certainly be a break in routine for us and maybe just what we needed. We were getting stale and cranky running over the same old ground. Maybe it would be good for us to do something different, remember what it used to be like to be 'normal agents'. Scully smiled at Thomas and McMahon. "I'm sorry. I was just taken by surprise. I'll get used to the idea." "We heard you always give your best, Agents." "Thank you. We'll talk tomorrow," I said as Scully nodded at them. Skinner said, "Agents, take off for the day, discuss what you need to. When you come in tomorrow morning, be prepared to give Kimberly all your financial information so that she can arrange to pay your bills while you're gone. We'll begin at 8:00 AM, sharp." "You got it, Chief," I spouted, saluting him crisply. The investigators laughed, Skinner scowled and Scully grinned. "Come on, wise guy, we have plans to make," Scully said as she walked out the door. XXXXXXXXXX PART 2 (PG) DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT GEORGETOWN 7:14 PM - THURSDAY "Mom, I know. We've rarely been assigned outside the U.S. before so I am excited. It's not really a case. We're going as advisors, helping set up an X-Files department at Interpol." I was pacing while talking to my mother. I hated to lie to her, but I had my orders. "Mom, we will not be in danger.... Just because I can't get calls does not mean that I am working on something dangerous." I was running out of lies. "No, Mulder and I are going there to set up a new and highly controversial department for Interpol. They asked for us, they just don't want to let anyone know we're there so they've slapped a high level classification on it," I sighed. "They want the whole world to know what we're doing. I'll try to call or at least send you a postcard or two." I sighed with relief. She was finally buying it. "We are NOT going to be living it up on the government dime in Europe. We'll be working, I assure you. There's nothing to tell. Mulder is my partner, that's it." I sighed again. "I'm not having this conversation with you again, Mom. You're starting to sound like Charlie now. I listened as my mother continued to speak her mind, trying to soothe her and keep her from becoming suspicious. Finally I interjected, "Listen Mom, I have a lot to do before our meeting tomorrow. I'll see you on Saturday for lunch. I'll bring over my plants then." I smiled as she replied and then said, "I love you too, Mom." I hated to lie to her, but I knew it was important. I knew she would understand the need for secrecy if I could have explained it to her. After all, I was sure that my father had not given her the entire truth about some of the missions that he was ordered on during his years at sea, and that she knew it. But I still felt bad about lying. I walked back into my room and stared at my clothes. 'What does one wear to drive an 18 wheeler 24/7?' I asked myself. I looked at my rack of Donna Karan and Armani suits and knew what I wasn't going to pack. But I knew that if I didn't get them out of the closet and Mom came over to check things out, they would reveal my duplicity. I decided to store them while we were gone. My mother would never think to go to Mulder's apartment. I picked up my cell phone and hit speed dial number one. On the third ring Mulder answered. [Mulder.] "Mulder, it's me." [Hey Scully, what's up?] "Mulder, I need to bring over some of my better suits and shoes to your apartment..." I began. Mulder's quick intake of breath and teasing, [Are you asking to move in with me, Scully?] surprised me. "Mulder, if I did, you would run like a scalded dog!" I laughed. [Don't be so sure, Scully,] he said quietly. I smiled as said, "Mulder, I need to make sure my mother doesn't know we're not in Europe when she checks out my apartment while we're gone. She's a master at putting two and two together after raising four navy brats." [Okay. Sure, but I'm not home right now. Could we do it tomorrow night?] Mulder said. [I just took my fish over to the guys and I was doing a little shopping.] "That's fine, Mulder. I just wanted to make sure it would be okay." I heard a knock at my door and said, "Someone's here, hold on just a minute." I walked to the door and peeked out. Mulder stood there with a huge grin on his face. I shook my head and opened the door. He had his phone in one hand and a large bag in another. "Bye, Scully," he teased as he closed the phone. I sighed and smiled at him. "Come on in, Mulder." I switched off my phone and put it back on the charger. Mulder walked into the living room and sat on the couch. "You got any tea, Scully? Shopping works up a thirst for me." XXXXXXXXXX Scully always has tea on hand. If she doesn't have freshly made iced tea in the fridge, she keeps a supply of my favorite brand of canned iced tea. She grabbed two and came back to the living room. "Thanks, Scully," I gulped half the can down right away. "Boy, you weren't kidding about shopping making you thirsty, were you?" she teased. "Well, I put it off as long as I can then I have to do a lot. It's not my favorite thing, you know?" "I couldn't tell by the way you dress, Mulder," she continued to tease. "Is that a remark about my ties, Scully? I'll have you know that I get them from the best on-line shopping source available," I said with a straight face. "Ties R Us, a subsidiary of McDonald's and Toys R Us." Her peal of laughter over my ridiculous remark made me smile back at her. I loved it when I could make her laugh. She didn't do it nearly enough to suit me. "You really are beautiful when you laugh, Scully," I said softly, before I could stop myself. Her laughter faded to a gentle smile and a blush. "Thank you, Mulder. That's the nicest compliment I've had in ages." I didn't know what to say to that so I changed the subject. "I... umm... did a little shopping for you too, Scully," For some reason I couldn't look at her right now. "Mulder...." she said warily. "I knew you probably didn't know what to wear so I drove out and cased the truck stop on I66. I didn't really see too many women like you there Scully, but there were one or two, so I used them as a guide for shopping." "Mulder," she growled. "If the women you saw were the ones going from truck to truck and knocking on the door, you're in big trouble." "Scully," I feigned surprise. "Would I do that to you? By the way, the proper term for those ladies of the evening is lot lizards." "I don't know, Mulder. If I base my response on the quality level of your video collection, I think you may be wiser to leave now while you have both kneecaps." Her harsh words were spoiled by the smile that wiped the frown off her face. "I'll need those for this assignment, Scully. No physical abuse allowed," I teased back. "So, you really bought me clothes, Mulder?" "Uh, yeah. I know you're not happy about this assignment, so you don't need to be spending money on a new wardrobe on top of it. I know you only own two pairs of jeans and that's not nearly enough. And the ones you do own are too 'dressy' for what we need here," I prattled on, wondering why I was babbling. "I appreciate it, Mulder," she said quietly. "Let's see what you got." I opened the bag and pulled out three pairs of stone washed jeans, two blue and one black, and four chamois shirts, tan, black, red and green, and laid them on the coffee table. Then I pulled out matching turtlenecks to go under them. She stood with her mouth slightly open. "Mulder, that's too much." "Too late now, Scully. Try one of each on and make sure they fit. I got them all the same size." "How did you know my size?" "Do you really want me to answer that?" I teased. "Uh, I guess not," she replied, reaching for the green chamois, turtleneck and the black jeans. She picked them up and held them to her chest. "Thanks, Mulder. I'll be right back." She disappeared into the bedroom and I finished my iced tea while I waited. She reemerged wearing the soft, tight turtleneck with the chamois shirt over it, buttoned up only half way so it framed the generous breasts that rode high on her chest. The jeans fit her perfectly, except that they were a little long, but she wasn't wearing any shoes. She smiled. "Can I pass for a trucker chick?" she asked, clearly amused with her new look. "A pair of boots and some work gloves and you're golden, Scully," I said, nodding my head and smiling. She beamed me a smile and twirled around. I chuckled and stood up, walking over to her and placing my hands on her shoulders. She looked up at me and I said, "It's going to be all right, Scully. I promise. I know it won't be easy, but when is anything we ever do easy?" She swallowed hard and her smile faded. "We're going to need some ground rules, Mulder." I nodded, having expected this. "I know, whatever you want, Scully." She must have detected the note of resignation in my voice. "What's wrong?" "Nothing." "Mulder, come on." I turned from her and returned to the couch, sitting down. She came over and sat on the opposite end of the couch. "Do you have cowboy boots or work boots, Scully?" "I have hiking boots and I can pick up some work boots. Don't change the subject, Mulder. Nice try." I smiled sadly. "Can't blame me for trying," I quipped. She just stared at me, giving me the look that said I wasn't getting out of this. "Spill, Mulder." I sighed deeply. "Nothing, really. I just expected you to have a whole laundry list of rules and regulations that I'll have to follow. It's not really a surprise." She frowned now. "You expected it, why?" I smiled softly at her now. "Because I know you, Scully." She seemed to contemplate this statement for a minute trying to figure if there was hidden meaning in it. Then she said, "I don't know if I'm happy you know me so well, or bothered that I'm so predictable." I gazed at her for a moment, seeing an opportunity to talk to her. We rarely had conversations like this. Normally, we could retreat into our neutral corners if we got on each other's nerves. We weren't going to be able to do that on this assignment. If this was going to work, then we needed to talk more. (Continued in part 2) "Truckin'" by FatCat Donnilee donnilee@snet.net Part 2 See part 0 for header information. "Look, Scully. You trust me, right?" "Of course I do," she quickly replied. "And I trust you. But we don't talk enough, Scully. I mean, we know a lot about each other, but we're going to be working in close quarters, closer than ever before, and we won't be able to retreat to separate hotel rooms or our respective apartments when we piss each other off." "And you're sure we'll piss each other off?" she asked wryly. "Don't we always?" I asked, with another note of resignation. She frowned again. "What are you saying?" "I'm saying we're going to need to talk more than we normally do. If we do something that bothers the other one, we need to talk about it before it festers into a boil and we end up fighting over it. We're not going to be able to afford that on this assignment." "I guess you're right." "Can you do it, Scully?" "Do what? Talk to you more? Sure." I shook my head, thinking that she was taking this too easily, not putting enough importance on what I was saying. "Our partnership, our friendship is precious to me, Scully. I don't want to damage it for anything, and certainly not for this assignment. But this will be something completely different for us and we need to be able to communicate ... and not just silently like we usually do. We're going to be pretending we're married ..." I broke off and swallowed. Being married to Scully was one of those furtive dreams that I squashed into the back of my mind whenever it reared its ugly head. It was one of those fantasies that would bring more pain than pleasure because I knew it would never happen. This assignment was going to be rough on me for that reason. I would be living out that fantasy in one respect. I was quite certain Scully would approach this with her usual logic and stoicism. She would trudge through, doing what she had to do and concentrating on the case because she would want it over as soon as possible. I, on the other hand, was going to have trouble not paying attention to the roles we were playing. It hit too close to home. So this assignment was a double edged sword. "Scully ..." "Why are you shaking your head at me?" she asked, sounding annoyed. "I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize our relationship either." "Relationship or partnership, Scully?" She looked confused for a second. Then said, "We're friends, that's a relationship, Mulder. And I meant both, partnership, friendship, whatever you want to call it." "That's just it, Scully. What would you call it? If someone were to ask, I mean." She looked confused again. "I'm not sure what you're asking." "If someone came up to you and asked, 'What's your relationship with Fox Mulder?' What would you say?" I held her with my gaze and she swallowed hard. "I would say ... he's my partner at work, my friend, my ... confidante. He's my best friend." I nodded. "Same here, Scully." I looked at my lap, wondering if that was all we'd ever be. She seemed to sense that I wasn't entirely satisfied with her answer and I wasn't going to give up anything more than she was. She added, "Maybe what's important here is what I 'wouldn't' tell them." "What's that, Scully?" She cleared her throat then met my gaze. "That you're the most important person in my life, Mulder. You have to know that." "No," I whispered. "I didn't know that." Her eyes widened slightly and one eyebrow went up as if to say, 'How could you not know?' "Well, you are," she said briskly. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Mulder. I mean that." She stood up, suddenly fidgety, which wasn't like her at all. I stood too and took her shoulders in my hands again. I was wearing my black boots with the inch and half heel and I towered over her, especially since she wasn't wearing any shoes. Her cute red toenails peeked out from beneath the legs of her jeans. She looked up at me and I said, "Same here, Scully." She chuffed a breath out and said, "You don't need to say it just because I did." I placed two fingers under her chin and tipped her face up further. I stared into her eyes and said, "I'm not. You're all I have left, Scully. I'd be lost without you. So no matter what happens on this assignment, please remember that." She nodded and her hand came up to cup my cheek. I shivered slightly and she smiled. "We'll be okay, Mulder. We always are. I care for you ... so much. I know I don't say it often enough." I looked hard at her now. "Scully ..." "Yeah?" I leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. I wasn't sure, but I thought she shivered slightly. I smiled, letting her feel my lips move against her forehead. "Mulder?" I pulled back to look at her face. "I need you to know ..." Could I say it? "What Mulder? Tell me." I met her gaze for a long moment. "I love you, Scully." She gasped and her mouth opened. I placed two fingers over her soft lips and her mouth closed. "Don't say anything. Just ... know it. Don't forget it. I'd do anything for you ... anything." I brushed another quick kiss on her forehead and turned on my heel. I strode to the door and yanked it open. I looked over my shoulder and she was staring at me with a stunned expression on her face. I said, "Doesn't mean I won't still be the pain in the ass you're used to, though." She smiled tremulously at that and I turned and walked out, closing the door behind me with a soft click. I took a deep breath and nearly jogged to my car, needing air and to get away from her before the import of what I'd said sunk in. It had been surprisingly easy to tell her. She knew I loved her, but I knew it would jar her hearing it from me out loud. And I hadn't said I was in love with her, just that I loved her. It gave her an out, a way to interpret it that would be palatable for her. But it needed to be said, and I'd said it. I felt lighter somehow. I hadn't expected a tearful reciprocation or declaration of undying love from her. I never expected to get that. It wasn't 'Scully's way'. She held her cards very close to the chest. But that didn't mean I had to. I was going to be able to pretend Scully was my wife. I smiled evilly at the thought. Maybe I could get away with a few more touches than normal, a few more liberties. I'd have to be careful, though. If I made her angry, all bets would be off. 'You're a big boy, Mulder. You can handle this,' I said to myself. Too bad I didn't believe it. XXXXXXXXXX I stood staring at Mulder's back as he walked out of my apartment. What the hell had he just done? How could he tell me he loved me and leave like that? What did he think I would do if he stayed, shoot him again? I stalked over to my window and watched him drive away. I stood staring off into the distance, trying to grasp the implications of what he had just said. 'He loves me. He said it again and this time, there were no injuries or drugs to blame. He loves me. He would do anything for me,' I thought. Why didn't his words make me feel better about this assignment? I sat down on the couch and tried to think this through logically. What exactly was it about this assignment that bothered me? I began to list the positives first. We would be saving lives. We would be saving the government untold millions of dollars. We would be able to put a stop to corruption in the DOT. We were being recognized by the Director of the FBI as the best qualified team for this job. Okay... the positives were not the problem. I pulled the afghan down off the back of the sofa and began the list for the negatives. I'd never been inside a 'big rig', let alone driven one. I didn't feel comfortable in an undercover operation. We were being taken away from the X-Files and somehow I felt that it was a set up. The last time we were undercover as a married couple, our partnership was strained. Mulder just told me he loves me. Mulder didn't tell me he's in love with me. "Oh, my God!" I said aloud. That was the problem. I just recently accepted that I was 'in love' with Mulder, but he... he just loved me. How would I ever survive being cooped up in the cab of a truck with Mulder for an undetermined length of time without acting on my feelings? The sound of the phone ringing startled me out of the deep funk I had sunk into. I didn't want to concern my mother if it was her calling back so I sighed and thrust myself up to get it before the machine kicked in. "Scully." [Hey, Scully, it's me.] "Mulder, you can't be home yet," I said automatically. [No, I'm not. I forgot to tell you while I was there...] he hesitated for a moment. [Shit. Some drivers should be taken off the road!] "Mulder, are you okay?" [Yeah, just a near miss.] I could picture him grinning as he spoke. "What do you need, Mulder? I want to get to bed so that I make sure I'm on time for our meeting tomorrow." [Scully, I forgot to tell you that I have a theory about the hijackings,] he started. "Mulder, can't you tell me tomorrow?" I yawned. [Why don't you wear some of your new clothes to the meeting tomorrow, Scully? I'm going to.] "Mulder, you know you won't come to the meeting wearing jeans," I laughed. [You won't know till you get there, will you?] "Mulder!" I laughed again. It seemed like he always knew when I needed cheering up. [Scully, have you considered what our undercover names should be?] "No, I haven't given it any thought at all," I said as I walked into the bathroom and started the water for a bath. [I have some ideas...] he started. "Mulder, you always have ideas. That doesn't mean I agree with them," I teased. [Yeah, well, I was thinking your name could be Jane. That way you could use Calamity Jane as your handle.] "My what?" [Your CB handle,] he said. "Oh, no, we agreed that I could pick the names next time we went under cover. Besides, why ever did you pick Jane?" I was curious about it, but not agreeable to the name. [If you remember your western history, Calamity Jane was a crack shot, and I thought that really would be an appropriate name for you, partner.] "Thanks, but I WILL pick out the names this time, Mulder." [Okay, but let me tell you my theory...] I sighed, "Mulder, you can tell me your theory tomorrow. Besides, Skinner may have already chosen our names. Who knows, he may have used our real names, and you can use Foxy Loxey as your handle," I couldn't resist. [Cruel, Dana.] "Goodnight, Fox." We both snickered at the same time, "Let's stick with what works, okay, Mulder?" ['Nite Scully.] Once again we refused to say goodbye. XXXXXXXXXX PART 3 (PG-13) FBI HEADQUARTERS HOOVER BUILDING THIRD FLOOR - A.D. SKINNER'S OFFICE 11:00 AM - FRIDAY I convinced Scully to dress for our roles for our meeting the next day. Skinner's eyebrows rose when we marched in, Scully wearing one of the new outfits I'd purchased for her and me wearing a flannel shirt, jeans and work boots with the laces half undone. After a quick appraisal, he'd smiled, realizing this move was our acceptance and resignation to the assignment. We weren't going to fight him anymore. Mr. Ken Casey, Manager of Operations for Global-Tech Trucking, had been talking for over two hours and he was still going. "You should have some background information on the industry as well. Most truckers keep up with this stuff and it can't hurt to know it. There are approximately 2.3 million trucks on the road in the United States and approximately 3.12 million drivers nationwide. The country boasts around 500,000 trucking companies. Eighty percent of those have twenty or fewer trucks, small independent outfits. Those statistics come from the American Trucking Association, which keeps track of these things. Global-Tech is in the other twenty percent, having a fleet of 100 trucks. "A lot of people criticize the trucking industry, but never think about what they would do if they had to operate without it. They go into the store and buy all the products, never wondering how they got there." The guy was obviously passionate about his work, I thought with a smirk. I glanced at Scully and saw she was wearing the same amused look of interest as he rattled on. "And 9.3 billion tons of freight. That's over sixty-four percent of the total U.S. freight in the nation -- is moved by truck. Seventy percent of U.S. communities depend solely on the trucking industry to deliver their goods. Seventy percent, think about that." The number was impressive. "A new tractor costs between $70,000 and $115,000, depending on the model, not to mention the cost of the trailer." A low whistle escaped Scully at that little tidbit. He nodded sagely. "Yeah, that's a lot of beans. So losing a truck, just one, to an accident, or in this case, a hijacking, is a major set back for any company, even one as big as Global-Tech. A set back of about $150,000, to be exact. Because not only are these loads being hijacked and unloaded somewhere, the rigs have completely disappeared." "Couldn't you track them by satellite?" Scully asked. He made a face. "I wish, but they know about the satellites and always disable them. It's the first thing they do when they hijack a truck. All we know is that the truck has dropped off our radar. We've rushed to the area, and notified police in whatever area the truck was last tracked. Unfortunately, by the time the cops get there, the hijackers are long gone, and so are the rigs. We have no idea where they are storing these loads. The trailers are not turning up later, so they may not even be unloading them, but storing them somewhere in a drop and hook yard or a warehouse and selling them later. Who knows?" "I have a question for you," Scully asked. "Shoot," Ken replied, holding up his finger and thumb like a gun and pointing at her, lowering his thumb as though firing. It took all my effort not to roll my eyes. Scully seemed to take it in stride. "How many women are there in the industry?" He smiled. "Numbers are going up, ma'am. Among owner/operators, independent truckers, that is, about 12% are female." "And companies?" "About 10%." "Just 10%?" "Afraid so. It's not a job that attracts most women." "Why not?" "If they want to have a family, they simply can't be away from home for long stretches at a time. Not unless they have a house husband to take care of the chicklets." "Chicklets?" Scully questioned, her scowl telegraphing her displeasure at the derogatory terms he was using. To his credit, he caught on. "I didn't mean to be insulting, ma'am ..." "Agent Scully," she reminded him pointedly. He cleared his throat, "Yes, sorry, Agent Scully. I didn't mean to be insulting, but ... it's true. Most women, IF they have children, want to stay home with them." "And men don't?" He sighed. "Some men do, yes, and they end up quitting the job once they start a family. That's why so many truckers are single men. The wives don't generally like their absences either, so they end up quitting to stay home with the wives, or looking for local driving jobs rather than long haul. Most, NOT ALL, but MOST of the women in the industry are one half of a married, driving team. In other words, there are enough women that it won't seem unusual for you to be on the road, especially since you're posing as a married couple." The rest of meeting went smoothly. We were briefed on the trucks that had been hijacked and the contents of their loads. We went over the files and asked our questions. I think Ken Casey's admiration of Scully grew by the minute once we were into examining the evidence and operating techniques of the hijackers. Her questions were pointed, insightful and she scribbled furiously, making notes and writing questions that needed to be answered. He soon saw that she was not be trifled with and her mind was sharp as a tack. I caught him looking at her with open admiration a few times. It was starting to annoy me, but I reminded myself that we probably wouldn't see him again after today until the case was over. We were to go to Somers for a one week crash coarse in training, eight hours a day and then we would report to Global-Tech's main hub in Nashville to get our new truck and be briefed on our first set of loads and trips at that time. I had a feeling that by the time this was over, both Scully and I would know more about the trucking industry than we ever cared to know. Finally, the day was over, and we broke a bit early, at 4:00 PM. Skinner told us to go home and we wasted no time. I drove us straight to Scully's apartment where I helped her load several garment bags full of suits and shoes into the trunk. She cleaned out most of her underwear drawer. I won't even go into how exciting it was for me to handle her silky stockings as I tossed them into a grocery bag. It was quite the adolescent thrill for me. No silk stockings on this trip. Too bad, I thought ruefully. Then again, there was something to be said for Scully in casual clothes. I was wishing I'd bought shells for her rather than turtlenecks by the end of the evening. God, I could be such a pig. XXXXXXXXXX Sunday evening saw Mulder and I on a flight to Bradley International Airport. We were booked into the Sheraton Hotel in Somers near the driving school. Tomorrow was a school day and we decided to get in bed early. But throughout dinner we tossed around our ideas so far. It was nice to fall into the comfortable mode of examining the facts of a case. We threw ideas back and forth. Our conversation from Thursday evening had yet to be discussed. I was just as glad, I thought. Wasn't I? XXXXXXXXXX SHERATON HOTEL MAPLE LEAF RESTAURANT SOMERS, CT Sitting across the table from Fox Mulder in a motel coffee shop was not a new experience for me. But for some reason, tonight it felt... strange. Perhaps it was the diamond wedding band on my left hand that skewed my perception of reality. At first, Mulder and I talked about the case and his theory that connected the hijackings to the Consortium. But as the meal continued and I grew tired, I found myself staring into the sparkling diamonds and zoning out, rehashing memories of the last few days. Skinner had dismissed us early on Friday, well, early for us. We made arrangements to leave my car in the long-term underground parking area at the Bureau the next day and straightened up the office. Mulder drove me home, since he had picked me up that morning. I needed his help loading up the garment bags of suits and blouses I didn't want my Mother to see while I was gone. He reminded me that if I were actually going to Europe, I would also be taking several pairs of shoes and of course, lingerie and stockings. What is it about lingerie that makes a grown man respond like he has turned into a Bevis or Butthead clone? I swear I heard him snort and give a dirty little chuckle as he loaded my stockings into a grocery bag for storage. But as heavy as the garment bags were, I wasn't about to reject his help, especially since he would be carrying them upstairs to his apartment alone. Saturday seemed endless. I pulled several boxes of summer clothes out to choose what I wanted to take to complete my wardrobe. I had the new jeans, shirts and turtlenecks Mulder bought for me, but I wanted a few cooler outfits to wear. I selected a few pairs of shorts, tanks and tee shirts and returned the rest to storage. I would deal with changing over to my summer suits if I got home before the summer was over. As I did laundry, I cleaned my refrigerator and took out the trash. By the time all that was done, it was time to go to my mother's house and drop off my plants. Thank goodness the weather was mild and Mulder had helped me load them into my car the night before. He was going to meet me at the Hoover building to give me a ride after lunch, but Mom had blindsided me and invited him to lunch with us. I filled Mulder in on my cover story with Mom on Friday, so I was not worried about what he would say. I was, however, very worried about what Mom would say while she had us both as a captive audience. I had every reason to worry, as it turned out. "Fox, have you ever been to Europe?" she started innocently. I was as interested in Mulder's answer as she was. It surprised me to find out that he had traveled extensively in Europe while going to school at Oxford. "I really didn't have a good reason to go back to the States during the summer. Mom and Dad had already divorced and I didn't have a home to go back to," Mulder started. I could see my mother cringe at the life Mulder had led as a young man. "I was smart enough to save my money during the school year and was able to travel from hostel to hostel during the summer." "Have you every been to Paris, Fox? I hear it's one of Europe's most romantic cities. Do you think you'll go there on your assignment?" "We really don't know where we'll wind up until we get there, Mom," I said truthfully. I didn't want her to push either of us into lying to her again. "Well, if I were one of two young, unmarried people who were treated to a tour of Europe on business, I would make sure there was some pleasure involved as well," she continued innocently. "Mom! Mulder and I are going on assignment, not vacation." I blushed as I spoke. A quick glance at Mulder confirmed my worst fear. He was enjoying this banter. "I'm sure we'll have some down time to rest and do a little sight seeing," Mulder agreed. I glared at him and silently told him to change the subject. For once Mulder did as I asked, and steered the conversation into other family news. After that, I actually enjoyed my lunch. Mom didn't strike again until we were standing outside after unloading the plants from my car. "Remember, Dana, you can call and ask for anything that you can't find in Europe. I have years of experience in sending care packages. Just please don't ask me to send you condoms like Charlie did." "Mom..." I began but stopped. Mulder's face was flushed an attractive pink and I realized that he knew she was hinting to both of us. "I don't think that will be a problem, Mother. We have to go. I'm storing my car at work and Mulder is going to give me a ride home. I still have lots to do before tomorrow afternoon." My mother took the hint and dropped the subject. She kissed Mulder and bid him a safe and successful trip. He gave her a big hug and a kiss and left us alone to say our goodbyes. "Mom, I'm going to miss you. I'll get in touch as often as possible. Don't forget, I left A.D. Skinner's card by the phone. If there is an emergency, I'm sure I can be here by the next day." "Bye, darling. Good luck and for goodness sake, have some fun while you and Fox are in Europe." She teased, "You know, I wouldn't be too upset if you came home married." I teased back, "Mom, you know the chances of that happening are infinitesimal. I would probably have a better chance of coming home pregnant, and we both know that won't happen." At her raised brow, I continued, "For two reasons. First, Lourdes is not on our itinerary," I grinned to lighten the conversation. "Second?" she asked smiling back. "Second, I would have to have sex before I could conceive. That would mean finding a man between now and then," I couldn't help saying. "Dana Katherine Scully! What's wrong with the perfectly good man that's going to Europe with you? When will you two come to your senses..." she scolded, and then stopped, realizing that I had suckered her into declaring her real thoughts. "I'll see you when you get back, dear. Try to call when you get there at least." She hugged me tightly. "I love you Dana. Tell Fox I love him, too." "Love you too, Mom. I'll tell him." I had to kiss her quickly and run down the sidewalk to my car before I started crying. I really hated lying to her. Mulder beeped the horn and waved as he drove away from Mom's house. I cried all the way to the Hoover Building. I parked my car and turned the keys into the guard on duty. I found Mulder's car and climbed in. He wasn't there, but I knew he would be back soon. He probably forgot something he wanted to take on the assignment. He returned in a few minutes and we started back to my place. "Are you going to be all right, Scully?" he asked a few minutes later. "Yeah. It just hit me that it could be weeks or months until I see her again," I sniffed as I stared out the side window. I didn't want to start crying again and I especially didn't want Mulder to see my tears. After a few minutes of companionable silence he said, "Are you ready now to listen to my theory on this case?" The balance of the ride was taken up by Mulder giving me his opinion of what was going on. I wasn't really listening, and Mulder didn't seem to expect me to reply. I was grateful for his understanding. I should have realized his non-stop dissertation on his 'theory' was a cover for his fear of what he was going to do next. We pulled up to my apartment and I got out. I was surprised to see Mulder getting out to go up with me. I had a lot to do before the next day. He followed me in and sat down on the couch, glancing nervously at me. I began to get suspicious after the third covert glance he gave me. "Okay, Mulder, what's up?" I said and sat down facing him on the other end of the couch. "Skinner stopped me when I ran in to the office while we were parking your car," he started. "He gave me our undercover identities and paperwork." "Mulder, you promised I could pick out our names this time," I said automatically. I really hadn't given it any thought. I just knew I didn't want to be Laura Hale or Laura Petrie. "Yeah, I tried to tell him that, but he said he already had the papers drawn up." "Well, what are our names this time?" I sighed. "You're Dana Tanner and I'm Martin Tanner," he said. "You're Marty? Marty Tanner?" I couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, I guess Fox is too distinctive and Mulder would never do as a first name," he smiled back and handed me my papers. I sorted through them, surprised that there was a Class A driver's license in the group. "Skinner must have pulled some strings to get these before we even attended the driving school." "Yeah, he wanted to make sure we weren't spotted by a spy at the school." Mulder was not as relieved as I thought he should be. After all, I didn't really put up much of a fuss about my new name. At least we didn't have to remember something new for me and Mulder's new name at least started with an 'M'. It shouldn't be too hard to remember. "Uh, Scully. I picked this up too." I looked up at Mulder and saw fear in his eyes. I followed his glance downwards toward his hand. He opened his fist and I gasped. He was holding a diamond band that looked to be just my size. It was exactly what I would pick out for myself. There were three perfect diamonds, channel set with an invisible mounting into the heavy platinum of the band. With a ring like this I would never have to risk losing it by removing it to 'snap on the latex' while doing an autopsy. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. It was also scarier than my first glimpse of the fluke man. I knew that this gorgeous ring did not come from the Confiscated Properties Unit. I reached tentatively to touch it, but when he moved it closer to me, I snatched my hand back as if I were afraid to be burned. "Don't you like it, Scully?" Mulder asked. "It's... It's beautiful. Where did you get it?" "You like it?" he repeated. "Well, yes, Mulder. What's not to like? It's beautiful." I brought my face down to look at it closely, but held my hands behind my back. "It won't bite you, you know," he chuckled. He held the ring in his left hand and placed his right hand on my left shoulder. He let his hand slide down my arm until he captured my left hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed the back of my hand. He squeezed my finger gently and said, "Dana, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" His voice was teasing, but there was a gleam in his eyes that I had never seen before. "Oh, Marty, it's so sudden," I tried to joke my way around his suddenly serious words. His eyes darkened, "Answer me, Scully," he said. As I gazed into his eyes, I saw the sincerity of his question. This was Mulder asking me, not Marty. I had to wear this ring for the assignment. But I heard the unspoken question. If it was really him asking, what would I say? He wanted to know. He told me he loved me the night before and I was terrified that he hadn't meant it in the same context that I loved him. I had many doubts and fears but being rejected was one that was laid to rest while I stared into his beautiful eyes. He loved me. He was in love with me. But for right now, our assigned 'marriage' would be as close as we could get to expressing our real feelings aloud. What else could I do? I said, "Yes, Marty. I would be honored to have you as my husband." As I spoke I saw his face melt into a soft smile. The look of love in his eyes was clear and I knew that we had just taken another baby step toward an honest to goodness romantic relationship. He slid the ring on my finger and grinned his loopy smile at me as he bent down. "Can Marty give his wife a kiss?" he asked quietly, playing along with the name swap. "We might need some practice to pull off this married act," he joked. We both knew it was a cover. I didn't answer right away and he sighed, bending down to kiss my cheek. I turned my face quickly and captured his lips with mine. He wasn't the only one that had suffered from a fear of rejection. I now knew that he was in love with me and I wanted to let him know that I was 'in love' with him too. He grunted softly in surprise but didn't hesitate when our mouths came together. Our second kiss was everything our first kiss had not been. On New Year's our kiss was gentle and warm and loving, but tentative. This kiss was still gentle, but heat was there, and love, and with only a small stroke of his tongue against my lips, passion took over. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to me. Our lips kissed. Our tongues dueled, and yes, our breath mingled. Every clich from the hysterical romance novels Melissa used to read became God's truth. It took every particle of strength in my entire body to break the kiss. When I pulled away from his lips, he groaned. I drew in a deep breath and hugged him. We couldn't take this farther tonight, nor for the next few weeks or months. We had an assignment ahead of us and we needed to complete it before we could explore our personal relationship. "Mulder, we can't allow our feelings to get in the way of this assignment..." I began. "Shhhh.... Dana... Scully, I know. I just want to hold you for a moment and then I'll go," he said as his warmth enveloped me and we stood rocking gently back and forth for too few precious moments. "Kiss me goodnight, Scully. Just once before I leave," he murmured in my ear as he slid his hands up to stroke my hair. Scully now. No more playing. His kiss was so sweet and exciting, all thoughts of letting him go home left my mind. When he pulled away, I was stunned. "I better get out of here while I still can," he said. He turned around and walked out my door, pausing to lock it before striding down the hall. I was thankful that he was strong enough to leave, because I knew I didn't have the strength to ask him to go. I had started a bath and spent the entire time staring at the diamonds in my ring, too stunned to even try to sort out my thoughts. I realized I had forgotten to ask him where the ring came from. XXXXXXXXXX That was very much how I still felt as I came back to the present and realized that Mulder was waiting for a response from me. I found myself back in the restaurant again. "I'm sorry, Mul... Marty. I was zoning out. What did you say?" I decided to be honest. Mulder chuckled and said, "I said, you must be tired. Are you ready to go back to our room? We start our new career tomorrow morning at 8:00 AM and we need to be rested." I could feel my face flush in embarrassment. It was only 7:30 PM and Mulder knew anyone who heard us would think we were going back to our room to make love. The fact that we both wanted to do just that but had more or less silently agreed to hold off on a physical relationship until after this assignment was over made it all the more difficult. I glared at him, but said out loud, "Come on, Stud." I walked away from him without looking back to see if he was following. I knew he was. Several of the men that had been eating near us were giving him male bonding grunts of approval as he moved to follow me. Tomorrow should prove to be an interesting day. (Continued in part 3) "Truckin'" by FatCat Donnilee donnilee@snet.net Part 3 See part 0 for header information. XXXXXXXXXX I wondered what was going through her mind as she stared at the ring on her finger. Our little subterfuge in her apartment last night had been a big step forward for us. We'd couched our answers behind the assignment and the names we were given to play, but we'd both known what I was really asking her. I was afraid to put it all out there. I needed to know what she would say if I ever really asked her to marry me. My heart nearly spun out of my chest when she said yes. I'd imagined that I was really asking her and she was really saying yes. I swallowed harshly, already wanting this assignment to be over. Maybe I could get another kiss good night. It was worth a try. I nudged her out of her trance and said we needed to get some sleep to be fresh for the morning. She'd given me an odd look I couldn't interpret, but then she said, "Come on, Stud." I'd grinned so hard I thought my face would crack and secretly reveled in the sly looks given to me by the guys sitting at the next table. They were envious, and who could blame them? XXXXXXXXXXX PART 4 (NC-17) HOTEL ROOMS SOMERS, CT We made our way upstairs to our rooms. We said our awkward good nights and went into our separate rooms. I undressed, leaving my boxers on and knocked on our connecting doors. She opened it a minute later wearing a baby doll nightie and tap pants. My knees nearly buckled, seeing all that Scully leg. I just stared at her, sweeping her from head to toe with my eyes. When I reached her face again it was turning a nice shade of pink and I couldn't help the grin that graced my lips. "God, you're hot," I breathed out, nearly under my breath. She blushed a brighter shade of pink and I took a step toward her. "What do you want, Mulder?" she asked, her voice uncharacteristic- ally shaky. I let my fingers slide over her cheeks and into her silky hair. She shivered at my touch and I secretly cheered that I could make her react at all. I stared at her for a second. "What, Mulder?" she asked again, her voice stronger this time. I whispered, "I want a kiss good night." "Mulder, we really shouldn't do this. It'll just make it harder ... make the wait harder ..." I didn't let her finish. "Got to," I mumbled and bent down and covered her mouth with mine. Her lips were warm and soft and she let out a little adorable squeak of surprise as I touched down. I tugged gently on her bottom lip, gripping it between mine. "Mul ..." she tried to protest and I pressed in, opening her mouth under mine with the force of my kiss. She moaned gently and I slipped my tongue inside. She was hot and damp inside as I explored her mouth and then teased her tongue with mine. She moaned a little harder and I deepened the kiss again. Unable to resist, I momentarily broke the kiss and slid my arms down her back and cupped her dainty rear end. I could nearly fit her whole cheek in my palm. "Oh God," she murmured. Then I pulled her up and toward me, nearly taking her feet off the floor and pressed my now aching shaft into her tummy, kissing her again. My lust was going to take over any minute now, but I couldn't seem to let go. I squeezed her ass cheeks, kneading gently. I tried to kiss her again. She finally made a token struggle, her hands pushing on my chest and I let her pull her mouth from mine. "Please, Mulder, don't make this hard ..." I was hard all right -- "Too late." But I took a deep breath to steady myself and slowly let her sink down, her tummy rubbing on my dick as she lowered herself to the floor. I groaned. "Jesus, Scully. What you do to me." "Go to bed, Mulder," she said abruptly. I didn't want to leave, but I knew she was right. We couldn't keep doing this. "Sorry," I muttered as I turned around. Her hand landed on my forearm and I stopped, turning back to look at her. "Nothing to be sorry for, Mulder. I just ... we have to be reasonable about this. This could be so distracting. I think we need to ...keep our distance until this case is over, so we don't ... lose our heads here, you know?" I swallowed harshly, my dick still throbbing, not responding to her words at all, still feeling the phantom press of her tiny body. "I think it's already too late for that, Scully. I lost my head over you a long time ago." With that, I turned and walked back into my room, gently closing the door between us. Its soft click sounded like a resounding boom, separating us from one another. I wanted nothing more than to march back in there and toss her on the bed. She was right, but that didn't make it any easier. I honestly didn't know how long I could hold out. It would depend on how long this case lasted. If it lasted more than a few days, and it surely would, I was in big trouble. I'd just have to find a way to convince her that we could handle both. There had to be a way. My personal thought was that it would relieve the distraction. Waiting was the worst part. Knowing that she was willing to be intimate with me was going to drive me insane - until it happened. Kissing her wouldn't be enough for long, as wonderful as it was. I stripped off my boxers and laid down on the bed, not bothering with the covers. XXXXXXXXXX NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXXX I was so hot I might light the damn things on fire. I grasped my cock and began stroking slowly. I licked my palm and stroked again, closing my eyes and imagining her mouth pouting around the head of my shaft. I groaned loudly, not even trying to be quiet. Let her hear me. Fuck it. Let her hear what she did to me. I reached down with my left hand and cupped my balls, rolling them gently and stroking faster, feeling my orgasm coil at the base of my spine. The backs of my legs began tingling and I wailed as I climaxed, "Ssscccuuulllyyy. Oh God!" I laid there quivering with aftershocks. I reached for the tissues on the nightstand and then decided to take a quick shower instead. I hopped in, soaped up and rinsed off and crawled back into bed, under the covers this time. I sighed and then smiled. At least I could kiss her now. If I was persistent, I knew I could break her down. Plus, we were supposed to be married, no one would think anything of it once we were on the road. If I could hold out until school was over, and that was just one week, then maybe I could convince her it was silly to wait. It wouldn't blow our cover, that was for sure. I heard a soft moan from next door and knew that she was doing what I'd just finished doing. It struck me as ridiculous that we were in separate beds relieving our needs separately, needs caused by one another. This was the way it had to be for now. I sighed, closing my eyes and hoping that sleep would come quickly. It was just so hard to wait. It felt like I'd been waiting for years. I should be grateful and doing cartwheels over the fact that I could kiss her now. But all I could think was, 'I want more'. I loved the woman. Frankly, I thought waiting was stupid. She'd never know I felt that way. And I would wait, not because I agreed with her, but because I respected her feelings. I heard another soft groan and gritted my teeth. I reached down, surprised at the speed of my reload, and grasped my cock. The soft moans I could hear through the wall made my balls ache. It was going to be a long night. XXXXXXXXXX END OF NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX We parted at our room doors. I had insisted on separate, but connected rooms while we were here at the driving school. It was possible that we were being watched by one or more members of the hijacking group, but I knew for sure that our progress was being monitored by Skinner. It was appropriate for Marty and Dana Tanner to share a room on the road. But for Dana Scully and Fox Mulder the assignment was just beginning, and it was still inappropriate. Our goodnight was strained. I was beginning to regret letting Mulder know just how I felt about him. This undercover assignment was no more and no less dangerous than the infiltration of the militia group Mulder was assigned to a few years back. These men had killed before and if we weren't focused, we could be next. I heard him moving around and pictured him stripping down for bed in my mind. I was suddenly wet. How could he do that to me with just a thought? I changed into my pajamas. The warmer weather called for cooler pajamas and I had brought my favorites for this trip. A baby doll top and tap pants were my sleepwear of choice. I had decided to wear one of Mulder's old tee shirts and sweat shorts on the road. But tonight I felt...sexy and desirable...even if Mulder wasn't going to see me in these. I wanted to hold on to the feeling of being a desirable woman I felt every time I looked into his eyes. His knock on the connecting door surprised me. I started to pull on my robe but hesitated. Damn him. Two could play at this game. I pulled open the door and forgot how to speak. He stood there, dressed only in his boxers. His eyes widened and his breathing quickened as he caressed me with his eyes. "God, you're hot," he said. His voice was honey over velvet. I couldn't stop my blush as I managed to say, "What do you want, Mulder?" He stroked my cheek with his fingertips and then began to slide those long, sexy fingers through my hair. His smug look of satisfaction helped me regain my voice and I said, "What, Mulder?" with more strength this time. He growled, "I want a kiss good night." I began to speak, giving him good, solid reasons why we should not take this any further until after our assignment when he lowered those sexy lips to mine and kissed me senseless. His lips nibbled and sucked mine, and I heard a disgusting girly squeak come from my throat. I couldn't help it. As he deepened the kiss, the hands that had been stroking my face and hair and caressing my neck slid around me and down my body. One hand encircled my waist then moved down to cup the cheeks of my ass. "Oh God," I murmured. How did he do that? How could he know that I am sensitive on my derriere? It was as if God had given him a roadmap and said, 'Touch her here, touch her here, and here.' My tap pants were immediately as soaked as my panties had been. If this didn't stop soon I wasn't going to have any clean underwear left. I moaned harder as his lips deepened the kiss. He pulled me up against his body and I was standing on the precipice of total meltdown. I could feel the heat of his shaft against my stomach as he forcefully pulled me against his body. Oh, Mulder, I want this...I kissed him back and debated about giving in and dragging him back to my bed. I groaned, feeling him squeeze my ass. I felt my insides tighten up and knew I had to stop this now. I wanted to kiss him and touch him and have my way with him for the rest of my life. That's what I wanted to do, but I knew I couldn't. I had to try one more time to be the voice of reason. I pushed against his chest while still letting my fingers stroke against his golden skin. "Please, Mulder, don't make this hard..." He let me slide down his body, rubbing his incredible erection down the length of my stomach. What the hell was I thinking? I was so wet, I could smell my arousal. I knew that his control was stretched to the limit. He mumbled an apology and I tried to smooth things over. I could tell that he wasn't listening as I babbled some rhetoric about why we should wait, why we shouldn't lose our heads now, when his words stopped me cold. "I think it's already too late for that, Scully. I lost my head over you a long time ago." He turned and walked back into his room, gently closing the door. I covered my mouth with both hands to keep from calling him back. I could feel the wet heat between my legs and tried to tamp down the throbbing with thoughts of duty and honor and safety. It was no good. I returned to the bathroom after I felt my juices running down my leg. I needed a shower, but I would wait until morning. I cleaned up quickly and changed into yet another pair of tap pants. The rough washcloth had taken the edge off the throbbing of my sex, but I knew it was going to be a long time before I could relax enough to go to sleep. I toyed with the idea of masturbation, but somehow, it didn't sound right tonight. That is, until I heard the soft grunts and groans start from Mulder's room. I could picture him in my mind. Lying in the middle of the bed, naked. His golden skin glowing in the low light coming from the bathroom. The muscles of his abdomen would be working as he stroked his big, strong hands down his own body. Oh, God, there went another pair of pants. I practically ripped them off me. I had to sleep naked or I would go through every pair of underwear I brought with me. I didn't want to explain why I had to do laundry tomorrow to Mulder. The small breeze from the room heater flowed over my body and I began to fantasize that it was Mulder's hands and lips and breath on me. I let my hands begin to wander over my body. The sounds from his room increased and I knew he had taken his thick, hot cock into his hand and was working it towards an orgasm. No, women called them orgasms, what did men usually call them? Did he think of it as coming or as cum? Did he lick his palm to smooth the friction, or did he spread his pre-cum over his cock? Did he like to play with his balls as he masturbated? Did he like a gentle stroke, pretending that it was me, or was he rough with his strokes, pretending he was pounding into me as he came? I realized that the sounds were getting harsher and I heard a strangled, "Sssccccuuuulllyyy. Oh God!" And then silence. I could feel my breath coming in short pants and gasps. I tried to calm myself down. This would never do. How was I going to survive until this damn assignment was done? I heard the shower go on in his bathroom and a visual of him lying on his bed with his ejaculate all over his stomach and chest made me groan. I began to stroke my sex with one hand and my breasts with my other. I let my mind wonder over the way Mulder would make love. Would he be sweet and gentle or would he be a demanding lover? Would he want to mount me and surround me with his essence or would he want to watch me ride him? With every thought I came closer to reaching my orgasm, but was not quite able to reach it before his shower turned off. XXXXXXXXXX NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX I rolled over and buried my face in my pillow. The grunts and groans that I had been subduing poured into the muffling depths of the pillow. I pulled my knees up under me and began to fantasize that Mulder was taking me from behind. My fingers were flying over my clit and I pictured his turgid balls rhythmically striking my clit as his huge cock stroked into me. His hands would be stroking my ass and I would be begging him to 'fuck me harder, Mulder... fuck me...' Oh, fuck me! My orgasm swept over me and nearly made me faint. I groaned and tried to stifle the sound in my pillow, but the need for air was overwhelming. I moaned as I rolled onto my back again. I was panting hard. My heart was beating out of my chest and I realized that I had the biggest, silliest grin on my face I had ever had. XXXXXXXXXX END OF NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX I was well and truly screwed. Well, not literally, yet, but figuratively. How was I going to survive this case with any sanity? How was I going to be able to protect Mulder's back when all I could think of was getting him on it? This was going to be a long, hard case. I fell asleep grinning. XXXXXXXXXXX SOMERS CLASS A DRIVING SCHOOL SOMERS, CT The next day found us sitting behind the wheel of a big rig. God, it had been a long time and I'd forgotten how powerful these things were. I'd also forgotten how empowering it was to handle one of these awesome machines. It made you feel like Hercules. Scully was surprised at the ease with which she was able to adjust the seats and reach the pedals. Her spatial geometry was even better than mine and she had no problem using the mirrors. She didn't get confused and was able to back up using the mirrors, knowing instinctively which way to turn to cause the mirror image to straighten out. I know she'd been nervous at first but as the day went on, she relaxed. After driving through her first obstacle course of orange cones and backing into a dock for the first time, she set the brakes and let out a whoop, raising her fists in the air and pumping her arms once in a victory signal. I was laughing broadly as she climbed out of the cab and started toward me at the edge of the huge paved lot in front of the main building where I'd stood watching her progress. She was intercepted by Dean Blackwell, the instructor. "Excellent work, Dana. Most people don't do this well on their first day." "Thank you," she replied, grinning up at him and obviously pleased with herself. Morehead Insurance had hired this guy privately from a school in Tennessee. He'd come up here to teach us after the school agreed to let us use their facilities. They didn't have a class scheduled to start for another two weeks. I sauntered over to her as I saw him reach out to put his hand on her shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie. 'Oh, no, we'll be having none of that,' I thought. No one was going to be touching her, except me. I lengthened my stride and arrived just as his hand landed on her shoulder. She was frowning and I knew she didn't like it, but was too polite to say anything at this point. I slid my right arm around her shoulder and casually knocked his hand off with my left. I glared at him, the alpha male in me coming out big time. He smirked, but upon meeting my eyes, his smile died and he recognized the challenge in mine. I looked down at Scully and she said, "It's all right, Mu...Marty." I looked from her to him again and then said softly. "Yeah. Everything will be just fine as long as he keeps his hands to himself." I made no attempt to lower my voice so he couldn't hear. I wanted him to hear. Then I abruptly changed the subject, "Good job, Honey." She scowled briefly at the endearment and I said, "My turn, I guess." I hated to leave her there with him while I drove, but there was no choice. I had to concentrate too and worrying about his advances, if indeed that's what they were, would be a big distraction. I knew Scully could take care of herself and didn't need me to protect her, but damn it. I hoped every man we encountered on this assignment wasn't going to drool over her. I hoped they would have more respect for her and me than to openly do that. Because if they didn't, I honestly couldn't say whether I'd be able to hold onto my temper. Scully touched my forearm as I glared at the instructor. I turned back to her and she whispered, "I'm fine. I can handle this M... Marty." I bent down so my lips were close to her ear. "He touches you again I want you put his balls in his throat. You understand?" She threw her head back and laughed and I straightened up, smiling down at her and glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. Her easy laughter was intimate and he probably thought we were making fun of him. He scowled and I didn't give a damn. He did finally speak up though, "Your turn, Mr. Tanner. Days a wastin'." He turned and walked towards the rig with me. I nodded, smiling at him. "No hard feelings, man. Sorry about that," I said casually as I could. I didn't need to alienate this guy on the first day of class. He nodded his head in grudging acceptance. "I'm a little sensitive about her," I added, now that we were out of Scully's hearing. "I didn't mean nothin' by it," he drawled. "I know." No, I didn't. "Forget it." He nodded again and I headed for the driver's side of the rig. I jumped in and released the brake. I put it in gear and slowly pulled out of the bay and headed for the other side of the parking lot where the cones were set up. I forced myself to concentrate and took the truck through the obstacle course. At this point, it was only hauling a 38 foot trailer. As the week went on, Dean had said he would increase the size of the trailer. We needed to be hauling a 53 foot trailer by the end of the week. I went through the course, turned and went back through before docking the truck. I was secretly pleased with myself and grateful that it was all coming back to me so quickly. XXXXXXXXX Our first day of school hadn't been the disaster I had foreseen. We were given a few hours of classroom information and study time and then taken right out to the obstacle course after lunch. I was surprised that I did as well as I did. I guess being a math geek when I was younger finally paid off. The rig, though intimidating upon first approach, was not the horror I thought it would be. The driver's seat was very comfortable and after adjusting everything to fit me just right, I found that my geometry classes were finally being put to use. The same rules of mathematics that had attracted me by their order and scientific basis now transferred to driving a big rig, of all things. The only glitch in the day was Mulder's run in with Dean Blackwell, our instructor. I knew it was going to happen the moment we had stepped through the front door of the main building and Dean had introduced himself to us. He was a man about the size of Mulder, but that's where the comparison stopped. Mulder was a tall man, but he was graceful as a big cat. His incredible intelligence made him sensitive to others, a trait that attracted every woman he met. Unfortunately, it gave the wrong impression to other men. Dean Blackwell was more like a bull, intelligent, but depending heavily on his strength and size to get him what he wanted in life. I'm sure that there were many women who found his type attractive. I'm not one of them. He was an excellent teacher. He had been a driver since he was in his teens and started teaching after an accident injured his back badly enough that he was no longer capable of long-haul trucking. He had a feeling for the rig, and was able to verbalize it in a way that made it easy to learn. He was also a touchie-feelie son-of-a-gun. I am not a person who has ever allowed my personal space to be invaded, that is, until Mulder came along. I didn't mention all the little encroachments to him or to Mulder, at first. A few times he had gotten too close and I had backed him off with a glance. But towards the end of the day I had just completed the obstacle course and backed the rig and a 38 foot trailer up to the dock. I was pretty proud of myself for doing it on the first try. I jumped out of the truck and looked for Mulder. He was standing over by the main building and I couldn't resist a victory dance. I raised my fists into the air and gave out a whoop as I walked towards him. He was grinning widely, enjoying my success as much as I was. Dean approached me from the other side of the rig and congratulated me. He put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. I could see the expression on Mulder's face change from one of happiness to one of danger. Most men dismiss Mulder as a threat. He is most likely to use his intelligence and his dry sense of humor to defuse a situation. What most people don't know about Mulder is that there is a dark side to his personality. He is a trained agent of the FBI and his understanding of the havoc that violence can wreak on the human body usually keeps him on an even keel. But he is possessive and protective of those he loves. I needed to act fast or Dean Blackwell was going to be of no further use to us. I frowned at him to let him know that I was aware of his feelings and to back off. He stepped to my side and slid his arm around my shoulders, blatantly pushing Dean's hand away. He glared at him and I sucked in my breath as Dean smirked back at him...that is, until he met Mulder's eyes. Mulder finally broke the glare and looked down at me. I could see the remnants of his alpha male dominance in his eyes soften as they searched my face. I whispered, "I'm fine. I can handle this M... Marty." I was relieved when he bent down and placed his lips close to my ear. "He touches you again I want you to put his balls in his throat. You understand?" He wanted me to use my training to protect myself and his belief in my abilities made me laugh aloud. I changed my mind about the lecture I was planning to give him tonight. Dean probably thought we were making fun of him, but I didn't care...not even when he scowled. He and Mulder moved back towards the rig and I could tell they exchanged words, but everything seemed to be back on an even keel. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all. XXXXXXXXXX SOMERS CLASS A DRIVING SCHOOL SOMERS, CT TUESDAY AFTERNOON The next day didn't go as well for Scully. We'd pretty much been in low gear around the parking lot, but today he took us out on the road to drive around the block. She had a hard time shifting, got frustrated and stalled the truck when she tried to double clutch, bucking the cab and making it whine. At one point, she pounded the steering wheel as if to make the beast do what she wanted. It was NOT like Scully to lose her cool like this. I was sitting in the sleeper, which was small, and I had to duck to not hit my head. I hoped ours was going to be bigger than this. Dean sat in the passenger seat as we idled along side the road. "O.K., you can do this," he spoke calmly to her and I had to give him credit. He'd kept his hands to himself today but I'd watched him closely. "Take a deep breath, let it out slow," he drawled. Christ, his voice was going to put me to sleep. These southerners took an hour to say 'shit.' It was only day two and already I wanted to scream at him, 'Get to the fucking point!' He didn't hurry, no matter what. I surmised that this must be because if they moved like we did, the heat would kill them. I smiled internally at this thought as he continued to drone. Scully was listening intently though, having regained her composure. "All riight, now. I'm going to walk you through thiiss, step by step." He sounded like a demented cowboy. "We're gonna take thiiss, realll slow." Scully smiled, then bit her lip to prevent herself from laughing at the way he talked. We'd better get used to it. I had a feeling we'd be spending a lot of time in the south and mid-west where most of these hijackings were occurring. That's one of the reasons they wanted us to come here, up north to Connecticut. The hijackers hadn't hit New England yet, so it was safest place for us to learn undetected. "Now push in the cluuutch," Dean said. She did. "Hoed it," he said with his peculiar accent, instead of 'hold' it. He glanced at me. "I gotta touch her, Mr. Tanner." I raised my eyebrows and so did Scully. "How so?" I asked. "I wanna to put my haand on hers and shift with her. That be awlright?" I nodded, smiling. Scully gave me the eyebrow, but said nothing. He placed his hand on hers. "Now, push all the way to the left, and gently sliiide that baaby up thare till you feel it catch on that nottch, in there. Feel it?" Scully nodded. "Then you gohead and push it straaiight up." The truck slid into gear. "Goood, now let up slowly on the cluuttch, just like in a caarr." She began lifting off the clutch. "Let her start to rowl, and then press gently on the gaasss, jest feather that puppy." I was biting the inside of my cheek now. I tuned him out as he continued and the truck began to roll forward. "Nooowww, the important ppaaart. Listen to the engiine. Hear it? Hear it start to strain? That soouwnd, lit'l higher pitched?" Scully nodded. "Now you shiift." He pulled down on her hand and slid it into second. She gained confidence as we tooled down the road. "Keep going straaight. I'll take ya up through the geears." Rather than turn back to go around the block, she continued on. The streets were nearly deserted at 10:00 AM and he continued to shift her up until we were tooling along at 45 miles an hour. He had her slow down for a light and shift down and then pull onto the highway. He took her up to 45 and then flipped toggle button on her gear shift to bring us up into the high gears. She sailed along as I suspected, having no trouble with the open highway. We went back into town, his hand still firmly on top of hers and guiding her through the gears as she double clutched and slowed down. "Hit the cluutch, tap the gas and spin those gears, and slliiiddeee her home," he continued his non-stop commentary as he talked her through double clutching. "Hit that clutch once more and release it slooowww." We finally made it back to the yard 40 minutes later. Scully slumped in the seat and turned to Dean as he released her hand, glancing at me once with a slightly nervous expression. I smiled at him and at Scully. "Damn," she muttered, embarrassed that he'd had to coach her through all that. "Don't be embarrassed, Dana. It's only day two and this a crash course," I reminded her. Dean nodded, "For sure, buuddy. Norm'ly you'd have a couple of weeks 'fore you went on the rowd." I said to Dean. "She's used to things coming easy to her. She's very smart." "I know she is," he said with a firm nod. "But this issn't liike ani'thin' else. Youse got ta get a feeelll for it, smart or nooot." We both smiled now, unable to help it. XXXXXXXXXX The week flew by and somehow we managed to keep our hands off one another. I never missed my good night kiss though. I didn't want her to forget what was waiting for her whenever she was ready. There was no freakin' way I was lasting until the end of the assignment. If I wasn't boffing her inside of a week, I was going to explode. I figured she didn't need to know that, though. I wish we had another week for Scully to get used to things and for me to brush up, for that matter, but our week ended and we thanked Dean and hopped a flight to Tennessee. First stop ... Nashville. XXXXXXXXXX PART 5 (PG-13) CRICKET MOTEL NASHVILLE, TN Nashville is a hole. I never knew that. There are some nice sections, but for the most part, it's a city like any other. Trash and dirt lined the streets. There was corruption, crime and seedy bars. More than the average city, Nashville was filled with little juke joints with low lighting, smoke-filled rooms and stages for amateur musician wannabes to try out their stuff. I was a little surprised at the dilapidated look of many of the buildings and streets. Being such a tourist attraction, I'd expected a better infrastructure and upkeep of the streets and buildings. Global-Tech had a contract with the Cricket Motel, a no-tell motel downtown with Spartan rooms featuring the TV and chairs bolted to the floor. The mattress was hard and the floors and bathroom were clean. I guess that's about as much as we could hope for. They told us it would look funny if we signed into the Regency or the Sheraton. This was the 'trucker's motel' and that's where we would stay. We showed up at headquarters and a dispatcher named Cole led us to our rig. He knew nothing of our new identities, only that we were a newly hired driving team. His eyes seemed permanently attached to Scully's ass until I glared him down, too. This was going to be a long assignment. Scully pulled in a gasp as we climbed into the rig. The sleeper was spacious, the bed folded out into a mattress almost as big as a double bed, but not quite, and was able to fold up into a single bed during travel. There was a small dormitory size fridge and a small sink. Every available corner was a cubby hole to store things. Under the bunk was a large space to store suitcases or larger items. All around the ceiling were hanging cupboards for storage. The dashboard looked like a cockpit of a jet fighter. Even I was impressed. Cole showed us how to use the satellite, receive, and send messages. This was how dispatch would contact us 99% of the time. He gave us a schedule for truck maintenance and a list of authorized garages throughout the continental US should we experience any mechanical trouble. He droned on through our orientation as I tried to pay attention. Scully took a few notes and it was a good thing, because I missed half of what he said. I was too busy planning where to put things and deciding the best place to store weapons. I'd contacted the Lone Gunmen and they were meeting us at the hotel tonight with some back up weapons and extra ammunition. We were trying to lure killers and I was going to be prepared. We would be a moving armory by the time I was done. All the weapons were magically registered in our fake names through the miracle of technology ... and some fancy hacking by Langly. I drove the tractor back to the hotel, explaining to Scully that driving without a trailer was called, 'bobtailing'. We immediately moved everything but essential toiletries and a change of clothes for morning into the truck, spending a good deal of time divvying up the space and deciding what was going where. We went to Denny's for dinner, which was within walking distance about four blocks away. We returned to find the Gunmen in the parking lot, their rental car parked in front of our door. I'd called to give them the number earlier. We walked up to them and Frohike started in immediately. "Christ, Mulder. We come all this way and you couldn't even be here to greet us." "He's Marty now," Scully said with a smirk in her voice. "I thought you only used that name for 1-900 calls," Langly cracked, earning him a glare from me. I groaned internally as I saw the look of amusement on Scully's face. That was definitely in the 'Scully doesn't need to know' column. Changing the subject abruptly, I asked, "What have you got for us?" "Pushy, pushy. The gratitude is overwhelming," Frohike mumbled as he opened the trunk of their rental car and they started pulling cases out of the trunk. Scully unlocked the door and we traipsed inside. They laid the cases out on the bed and began opening them. There were some interesting items in their collection. Scully was particularly impressed with the Ares Defense Mini Mag flashlight that would fire a .380 and still operate as a flashlight. There was also the Ares Defense Companion, a big 3-cell mag lite with a single shot .410 shotgun built in. The rest of the grocery list included a Glock with gunpower foldable stocks, a Berreta 92 Bigadier, two Sig Sauer P229 - 357, and a Para Ordnance Full Auto 85. Those things could fire 800-900 rounds a minute. They also threw in a Beretta Mag light shot gun. I was glad to see the Sigs. They had a safety, which our government issue ones didn't, but otherwise it was a familiar gun. But my personal favorite was a Sig77 with a M203 grenade launcher. I felt like James Bond preparing to go to war. "Holy shit, Batman," Scully muttered after they were all laid out on the bed in my room. The Gunmen chuckled as Scully shook her head. "What'd you think, guys? We were going to be playing Mad Max?" I laughed at her Thunderdome reference, silently impressed that she'd seen that movie at all. Didn't seem like her type of fare. In his calm, unruffled way, Byers said, "We wanted you to be prepared for any eventuality." "No doubt about that," I commented. "How much do I owe you?" Frohike was shaking his head. "Don't worry about it." "Yes, worry about it. These guns cost a fortune." "There's ammo for them all in the car too. I'll go get that," Langly announced and disappeared through the door. "Frohike, I have the money. How much?" He sighed, "A lot." I nodded. "Send me a bill. I'm serious. Total it all up and let me know. I'll be in touch with you guys in a few days and I'll wire you the money. I don't want you to sit on this type of bill." He nodded. I knew the price tag was in thousands. There had to be $10,000 worth of firepower here. We carefully put the guns back in the cases and thanked the guys. We walked them out to the parking lot. Byers pulled a small canvas bag from the trunk of the car and handed it to me. I didn't want to discuss the contents of the bag with Scully until later on the road. (Continued in part 4) "Truckin'" by FatCat Donnilee donnilee@snet.net Part 4 See part 0 for header information. Frohike stared unabashedly at Scully as she stood with her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, pushing her chest out unconsciously and stretching the material of her snug fitting tee shirt. He glanced at the hiking boots that she was wearing until we picked her up some work boots, and he scanned her from toe to head. She took her hands out of her back pockets and scrunched her shoulders slightly as she realized the effect she was presenting. "You make a hot trucker momma," Frohike blurted out, unable to help himself. Scully scowled and I grinned. "Shut up, Frohike," she responded. "Mmm, mmm, mmm, definitely an improvement on those schoolmarm suits you wear to work." "Hey, those suits cost a lot of money," she exclaimed, totally missing the point. Or maybe she wasn't and was trying to change the subject. He grinned. "Yeah, but they cover you up too much." "She doesn't dress for you, Frohike," I said, figuring I better step in before this got ugly. He grinned unrepentant. "Don't I know it." "Good bye, guys," she said curtly and they turned and piled into the car with Byers behind the wheel, Frohike in the passenger seat and Langly in the back. They backed out of their parking space and we waved. Frohike peeled out a wolf whistle as they drove out of the driveway. I couldn't help laughing and looked down to see Scully scowling. "Better get used to it," I said in between chuckles. "Get used to it? What's that supposed to mean? I'm not becoming the little woman, so just get that out of your head right now." I smiled at her. "I meant that men are going to be checking you out, Scully. You're a beautiful woman, it's just a fact. They aren't all mature and respectful like me," I teased. That made her chuckle. "Yeah, right. You're soooo mature," she teased back. I put my hands over my heart and said, "Moi? You wound me, Scully." "I'll wound you all right, if I hear any sexist comments in front of anyone. So help me Mulder, you embarrass me and there will be hell to pay." She turned on her heel and headed for the door to her room. "I don't doubt it," I muttered as I followed her. "Help me get these into the truck?" I asked. She sighed. "Yeah, we better in case we have to roll out early in the AM." I smiled at her choice of words. I didn't even think she realized she was already starting to talk the lingo. "Let's roll, baby," I teased, unable to stop myself from getting in one last jab. She scowled, "Go ahead and push it, Mulder. I'll make you sorry." "Oh, I hope so!" I replied. She chuckled and we began taking the cases out to the truck. We had to find a place to hide them all. The pistols were put under the seats, the Mag Lites in the glove box. At least we would have those within easy reach. The rifles and larger guns were stored in the overhead compartments situated over the bunk. Finally, we were done and ready for bed. I checked the locks on the cab door and exterior compartments and turned to follow her back to the sidewalk. Before leaving her, I pulled her to me outside our motel room doors. She smiled up at me. "What?" "You know what. Where's my good night kiss, Mrs. Tanner?" I teased. She sighed a long suffering sigh, still not liking being called Mrs. Tanner. "Mulder ..." "Kiss me," I whispered, leaning down and capturing her lips before she could lodge any protests. Her hands came up around my neck and I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her up tight against me. I deepened the kiss and felt my groin tingle as I started to harden. I felt daring and moved away from her mouth, tracing a path to her neck and sucking gently on her pulse at the base of her neck. She moaned and I gripped her tighter, swirling my tongue on the skin and tasting her. She pushed gently on my shoulder. "Mulder, stop." I moved back up to her lips, ignoring her command and took her mouth under mine again, slipping my tongue between her swollen lips and teasing her tongue. She mewled into my mouth, a sound that made me harden fully and I pressed into her soft belly, her jeans and mine doing nothing to block the heat coming off my dick. Just then, a trucker I recognized from the headquarters walked past and grumbled, "Geez, get a room, you two." I chuckled and released Scully as she flushed bright red. "Jesus, Mul... Marty, we're right out in the open." I smiled softly, "So what? We're supposed to be married, remember?" "That's not the point ..." she trailed off. "Forget it. Good night, Marty." "Good night ... Dana." I reluctantly watched her disappear through her door and put the key into mine. Another lonely night with a hard on to relieve. I couldn't go on like this. I told myself I should be happy with what we had. I should be doing thrilled just over the fact that she allowed me to touch her at all. I should be ecstatic that she was giving me good night kisses. But I'm a pig. All I could think was, 'I want more.' I was a greedy bastard and now that I'd tasted her, nothing but the whole enchilada was going to satisfy me. I was tired of pussy footin' around. I wanted IN, and I wanted IN NOW. I stripped and lay down on the bed to complete my nightly ritual. I gripped myself and gasped, closing my eyes and picturing her swollen lips in my mind's eye and replaying the mewling whimper that I swallowed just minutes before. I wasn't going to last long tonight. Didn't matter, it was just a means to an end, anyway. I wanted the real thing and I was going to have it ... soon ... even if I had to push. XXXXXXXXXX ROUTE 65 NORTH TENNESSEE Our first assignment came in the morning. We were to go to a drop and hook warehouse in Portland, Tennessee on the Kentucky border. There we would pick up a trailer full of old computers and bring them to a business named Computer Solutions in Louisville, Kentucky. These were all outdated computers that were being turned in for overhaul or being sold for parts to this business. Computer Solutions had a government contract to upgrade hardware throughout the mid-west for most government installations. It was no coincidence that we were hauling government computers. This would be a prime target for the hijackers as their previous heists had targeted technology type loads. Once there, we were to pick up newly reconditioned computers and deliver them to various government agencies roughly along a path toward Nevada. We rose and dressed after the phone call that awoke us with our assignment and we headed out. I chose to drive the first leg and headed north on Route 65. Scully chattered about the significance of the load we were hauling as we tooled up the highway. "Do you think they'd hit us so soon?" "You mean on this first run?" I asked for clarification. "Yeah." "I don't know. We have no idea if there's someone inside the company that's arranging these loads and tipping off the hijackers, or how they are getting their information on the loads. It could be an inside job at Global-Tech, or it could be DOT workers that inspect the trailers and loads at weigh stations. We have no way of knowing. That's what we need to find out." "I think when we hit the DOT weigh stations, we should work out a plan." "What kind of plan?" "Well, I was thinking one of us should stay with the inspectors while they go over the truck and the other one should wander around and observe any others that may be there, see if anything pops up." "You mean split up?" I asked with a note of anxiety in my voice. "Not really split up, per se. But we want to watch the inspectors to see if we notice anyone taking undue interest in the content of our load. On the other hand, if there's some stoolie in the weigh station picking up the phone as soon as he knows what we're hauling, I want to know about that too and we can't be in two places at the same time unless we split up. It's just while we're at the weigh stations." "What excuse could we have for wandering inside? Most of these places are little more than huts, some have a building, but even those aren't usually large. Others are located in a space that has more of a rest area with a convenience store or whatever." "I can always ask to use the bathroom. Women always have to pee." I chuckled at that. "Most of the bathrooms are located in the rear of the buildings." "Right next to the offices. Just a thought," she tossed out. I sighed, knowing her plan was sound but always hating it when we split up. I would never admit to her my niggling concern about her being a woman in this environment. I'd meant what I said about a lot of men not respecting women. I knew, intellectually, that Scully could take care of herself. That didn't mean that I could stop myself from worrying. I had to keep reminding myself that she was a fully trained FBI agent and she'd be insulted if I told her the real reason I didn't want us to split up. "Just be careful if we do that. I don't like the idea of splitting up." "Afraid I'll get in a jam?" she asked, zeroing in on my concern without even trying. I sighed. "No, I'm afraid *I* will," I answered, which was also true. She chuckled. "I won't ever be far away and we both know how to yell for help, Mulder." "Marty." "Huh?" "We need to start calling each other Dana and Marty, or we're going to mess up at some critical point. I know it's hard, Dana, but we have to try and get into our 'roles.' If we don't, we'll never pull this off." "You just want to play house," she teased. "Well, that is a side benefit," I said in a cavalier tone. "I'm serious, though," I added, growing more somber. "You're right. It's hard, though." "Hard how? To remember to call me Marty?" She swallowed. "No, it's just ... hard to pretend we're married," she said finally. I concentrated on the road for a few seconds while I took a particularly sharp corner on the highway, my eyes darting to all the mirrors to check for traffic as I changed lanes. Like riding a bike, I thought. This was something that you never forgot once you'd done it. I found the mindless activity of driving soothing. I would often go driving when I needed to think or relax. It was a secret of mine that not many people knew. That summer, driving for the loggers, I'd discovered the peace that there was to be found on the open road with nothing but the moon and stars for company. I still had some of that in me. Maybe it was why I loved traveling so much. There really wasn't much waiting for me at home. I never minded being on the road, although I knew Scully longed often to be more stationary. I didn't quite know what to make of her comment. Finally I answered, "Why? Can't picture it, can you?" She must have detected the note of hurt in my voice that I was trying to hide. Her next words were, "What are you saying? It's easy for you to picture us married? Come on, Mulder. This is US we're talking about." My thumb moved up to finger the wedding band on my left ring finger. I twirled it around and swallowed around the lump in my throat. "What do you mean, it's US we're talking about? What's so fucked up about me that you can't even imagine being married to me?" I glanced at her and she looked puzzled. "It's not YOU, Mulder. It's US, who we are, Federal Agents, on the road all the time." "Who said marriage has to include the farm house with the white picket fence and 2.5 kids? There are lots of ways to have a marriage, Scully. Granted, not all of them are ideal. But if two people love each other and they work well together, it doesn't matter where they are, where they roost at night." "Roost?" "You know what I mean. There are couples that work on opposite coasts and maintain marriages. There are couples that travel for their work and make a go of marriage." I paused. "And there are FBI agents who make marriage work." She was silent for so long that I was afraid I'd said too much. At long last, she spoke quietly. "Are you saying you can picture it?" An instinct told me to go for broke. "I picture it all the time, Scully. It's one of my favorite fantasies." I glanced at her again and she looked startled. "You mean your fantasies don't include sexy lingerie and lap dances?" she tried to tease, but her voice came out breathy. I chuckled. Gee, thanks for that visual, Scully. I felt my groin tingle and ruthlessly suppressed it. This was serious. She rarely opened up to me, and her questions indicated that she wanted to clarify some things, too. Maybe answers to these questions were what she needed to finally make the decision to move this gravy train forward. I felt like we were standing on a precipice. How I answered her questions would determine the fate of our relationship. I was scared and exhilarated at the same time. "I have some of those too, but mostly, I just dream of what it would be like." "What it would be like? What's IT, Mulder?" I swallowed hard, keeping my eyes on the road. I needed to, but it was also a good excuse not to have to look at her. I was suddenly sweating for no apparent reason. We didn't talk like this often and I didn't want to pass up the opportunity to get some things out in the open. On the other hand, I didn't want to blow it by saying too much and scaring her off. She was softening toward me and I didn't want to send her scurrying for cover again. I needed to be honest with her. I said, "Just ... being with you, Scully." "You mean sex?" I sighed. "No, you're missing the whole point." "Which is?" she asked, sounding a bit testy. I risked glancing at her again and realized she was staring at me. I squirmed in the seat a bit and then said, "The point is, Scully, that I want to be with you and not just as your work partner or your best friend. I thought I'd made that clear." "Yeah, but wanting to advance our relationship into the physical realm doesn't mean you want all the baggage of a committed relationship," she responded. I scowled. "We really aren't on the same page sometimes, you know that?" She clucked her tongue. "I don't know where you're going with this, Mulder." "Marty." "Marty, whatever. What are you trying to say ... exactly?" "I'm saying I want it all, Scully." "Dana," she corrected. "Right, Dana. Hello pot this is the kettle," I quipped but then got serious again. "I don't know about you, but I've been committed for a long time already." "Meaning?" "Meaning ... you're the ONE, Scully. I've known it for a long time. We've already been sharing each other's baggage for years and it hasn't sent either one of us screaming for the hills. We're as close as two people can be without making love. Hell, yes, I can picture us married. We're already closer than most married couples. We just don't have that little piece of paper that makes it legal ... well, that, and we don't sleep together." "Elaborate on what you mean by you've already been committed.'" "That didn't make sense? I love you, Scully. I told you that. I want to be your man, in every way. I want to have sex, yes, but it goes WAY beyond that." At that very moment, I realized it for myself. It did go way beyond that. For all my frustration and vows to push a physical relationship, that wasn't what it was about for me. "I want to be THE man in your life, Dana. I want to have the right to knock some asshole's hand off your shoulder. I want to be able to kiss you in public. I want to come home to you every night and eat dinner together and watch TV." "You don't get enough of me during the week?" she tried for another half hearted tease. "I never get enough of you, Dana." I heard her huff out a breath and glanced at her again, surprised to see wetness pooling in her baby blues. "You've been the only woman for me for ... a long time. There's a reason why I don't date. That reason is YOU. Nobody measures up to you, Dana. Nobody even comes close ... not for me. It's you or nobody." "God, Mulder. How can you say that? You don't know who you might meet down the road." "No, I don't, and it doesn't matter. In my heart, I committed to you a long time ago. Don't you get it? I want it all. I would never push you, but I want to be intimate with you. I want to share everything with you. And yes, damn it; someday, I want to be married to you." "I don't know what to say." "Don't say anything. Just think about it. I know you're not ready for that yet ... but know that it's there waiting for you ... whenever you are ready ... if you're ever ready. I'll still be here waiting." She didn't say anything and I watched the road again, concentrating harder than I had to. Traffic was light. I stole glances at her as she stared out the window, avoiding looking at me. I decided some levity was needed here. "Besides, you should know by now that I'm like a burr under a saddle. I'm very hard to get rid of and I'll keep poking you until you give in. I can be very persistent when I want to be." "Don't I know it," she muttered. I turned and she was smiling at me. I returned the smile and said, "Just think about it." She nodded and turned away again. "You know what?" "What?" "Screw this name thing. Just be careful to call me Marty in public or if someone else is around. When we're alone, we're Mulder and Scully, that's who we are. I'm not going to drive myself crazy with it." "O.K.," she said softly. After a minute, I asked, "Just tell me one thing." "What?" "You do love me, don't you?" "Yes," she said softly. "You're IN love with me?" I pushed. Her breath hitched in her throat and she whispered, "Yes." I smiled, feeling warmth steal through my chest, feeling tears sting my eyelids. I blinked rapidly and said in a husky voice, choked with emotion, "Then I can wait forever, as long as I know you love me." XXXXXXXXXXX We made it. We both finished the driving course and made it through the introductions to our dispatcher at Global-Tech. We'd even picked up our truck...rig. I have to admit, it hasn't been the nightmare I thought it would be. Driving a big rig was just another skill I had to learn, like Mulder had tried to tell me. I thought he was just trying to talk me into taking the assignment and reassure me when he first promised me that I could do this, but he was right again. One more off-the-wall theory that proved to be true. I've been puzzled by Mulder's behavior during the entire first part of this assignment. Something about Mulder is different. I was trying to analyze exactly what and why, when it came to me out of the blue. We were checking out our new rig and it hit me . . . Mulder was happy. The darkness that had been his constant companion for most of our partnership was missing. He told me he was free after his revelation about Samantha in starlight, but the grief over his mother's death had still colored his world a deep shade of grey. During the day to day routine of our lives, I somehow lost track of the precise moment that Mulder's depression lifted. I tried to think back to a conversation or event that should have clued me in to his relief, but I couldn't. I think it was a gradual adjustment that wasn't obvious while we continued in our normal surroundings. Then another revelation struck me. As soon as he was able to kiss me, touch me, the final veil had lifted from behind his eyes. While he had changed over the course of time, there was a hesitancy, a quality of indecision that permeated his interactions with me. By the simple act of allowing that first lover's kiss, all his hesitation was gone. He was smiling more and he looked like a man ... with a future ... something to look forward to ... like a man in love. I was talking to Cole about the maintenance schedule for our rig while Mulder was climbing like a monkey all over it, inside and out. I turned toward his exuberant, "S...Dana! Check this out!" He was hanging off the handle on the cab, grinning like a little kid. The sun was peeking through the clouds and took that exact moment to bathe him in a patch of gold. He was so brilliant and beautiful in the glare of the sunshine, I had to shade my eyes with my hand. The happiness in his smile was blinding. The long, lean line of his body was highlighted against the black and chrome of the Kenworth we were given to drive. His blue chambray shirt molded to his body as if it were custom tailored and his jeans were like a second layer of skin on him. I gazed at the breadth of his shoulders and the ropey muscles in his arms. The muscles in his long legs flexed as he climbed over the back of the truck with amazing agility. When he jumped down and bent over to check the air lines, I knew I gasped. The worn denim of his jeans cupped his spectacular ass and left nothing to the imagination. I had never wanted him more than I did at that moment. Happy Mulder was a hard man to resist. I must have stood there for several minutes, grinning like a fool. I would probably still be there if Cole hadn't cleared his throat and said, "You two been married long?" I blushed and looked down at the clipboard in my hand, "Not that long, two years." Thank God I remembered the cover story Skinner had set up for us. Cole laughed and shook his head. He continued with the orientation and I tried to pay attention. We drove, I mean, we bobtailed the rig back to the motel for a final night before hitting the road. Mulder surprised me with the news that the Gunmen were meeting us at the motel later. When I asked him why, he gave me a secretive smile and told me that I would find out soon enough. Find out I did. They brought enough armament to start a small war. We had not been allowed to bring our service weapons along, as they were too easily traced to our real names. Skinner had approved us purchasing, legally, a few guns and had even gotten permits for Marty and Dana Tanner to carry concealed weapons. I don't think this arsenal was what he had in mind. The guys dropped off the weapons and ammunition and then took off right away, but not before Frohike got in a few drooling remarks. If I didn't know that he truly respected and liked Mulder and me, I would have taken the little troll out. As it was, Frohike was just being Frohike. Ya had to love him. The last thing the guys gave us was a small canvas bag that Mulder stored in the rig without opening. I assumed it was a 'guy gift' and didn't question him. If he wanted to share, he would later. The next morning, I was difficult. We were off on our first assignment and needed to be sharp. I felt like I needed at least a gallon of coffee before I could face the day. I didn't get to sleep until after 4:00 AM. Mulder's goodnight kiss had kept me awake until then. I knew I was being argumentative and purposely distant, but I couldn't help it. We discussed the possibility of an early attack and some ideas I had been thinking about to flush out our perps. Mulder was concerned, as usual, about us splitting up. Sometimes his protectiveness drove me crazy, but this time he did have a point. When he cautioned me to call him Marty, I tried to lighten the subject by teasing him, "You just want to play house." His quick uptake on my tease surprised me. "Well, that is a side benefit," he said lightly. "I'm serious though," he added somberly. "You're right. It's hard, though," I responded. "Hard, how? To remember to call me Marty?" I swallowed and decided to tell him the truth. "No, it's just... hard to pretend we're married," I said. A few moments later he said, "Why? Can't picture it, can you?" I could hear the pain in his voice. Could I tell him the truth? Could I tell him how dear the idea was to me? No, we had to keep this professional until the assignment was over. I answered his question with a question. "What are you saying? It's easy for you to picture us married? Come on, Mulder, this is US we're talking about." He seemed taken aback by my words and replied, "What do you mean, it's US we're talking about? What's so fucked up about me that you can't even *imagine* being married to me?" He shot a quick glance at me and I knew he could tell I was puzzled by his response. I added quickly, "It's not YOU, Mulder. It's US, who we are, Federal Agents, on the road all the time." I purposely left out the unspoken reasons. We were in constant danger of being killed or separated by the vermin that hid in the shadows of the conspiracy we were trying to uncover. I didn't want Mulder to even think about that aspect right now. We didn't need to add his guilt over past happenings to this conversation. I had obviously deflected his thinking when he responded, "Who said marriage has to include the farm house with the white picket fence and 2.5 kids? There are lots of ways to have a marriage, Scully. Granted, not all of them are ideal. But if two people love each other and they work well together, it doesn't matter where they are, where they roost at night." "Roost?" "You know what I mean. There are couples that work on opposite coasts and maintain marriages. There are couples that travel for their work and make a go of marriage." Then he paused. "And there are FBI agents who make marriage work." I was silent for a long time. "Are you saying you can picture it?" I asked quietly. "I picture it all the time, Scully. It's one of my favorite fantasies." He glanced at me again and could tell I was startled. Once again he had managed to surprise me. "You mean your fantasies don't include sexy lingerie and lap dances?" I teased, but my voice came out entirely too girlie for my comfort. It must have given him the go-ahead for the rest of the conversation. He rocked my world. He loved me and wanted to be married to me. It wasn't entirely about sex. It was about commitment and love and friendship and comfort. All the things I had been denying that I needed for years. All the things I wanted from Mulder and never believed that he would ever want from me. All the things that I couldn't allow him to feel for me. He deserved a whole woman. Someone that could give him children. Someone unlike me. But his words continued and he told me that he was committed to me. To me. He really did want to be married to me. I realized suddenly how insulting it was for me to assume that this was purely about sex and intimacy, although that was a part of it. Mulder was not a shallow person in any other way; why had I assumed that he would be in this situation? But I had. I thought he wanted the sex without the marriage, the intimacy without the full commitment. It never occurred to me that he would want marriage. Guess I was wrong again. Was this a real proposal? I was at a loss, so I said, "I don't know what to say." "Don't say anything," he responded. "Just think about it. I know you're not ready for that yet ... but know that it's there waiting for you ... whenever you are ready ... if you're ever ready. I'll still be here waiting." When I didn't reply, the Mulder self-deprecating sense of humor came out. "Besides, you should know by now that I'm like a burr under a saddle. I'm very hard to get rid of and I'll keep poking you until you give in. I can be very persistent when I want to be." "Don't I know it," I grumbled, smiling at him. "Just think about it," he smiled back. I nodded and turned away thinking of all he had just said. After a minute, he asked, "Just tell me one thing." "What?" I couldn't wait to hear what was coming next. "You do love me, don't you?" I had to force a quiet "Yes," from my lips. He was taking my breath away with his directness. "You're IN love with me, right?" he clarified. "Yes," I managed. He smiled and said in a husky tone, "Then I can wait forever, as long as I know you love me." I looked away, trying to gain a little space to process all that had just been said. Being in constant contact with Mulder was driving me crazy and this conversation had not helped. Sure, we were together constantly in DC, but I had my apartment, my mother's house, church... places I could relax and enjoy without the constant edge of sexual tension that haunted me every time I was around Mulder. I was a woman in the middle of my sexual peak and I had what most women would agree was one of the most desirable men in the western hemisphere as my constant companion and I couldn't do a thing about it. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Or at least, I couldn't before now. I felt like I was going crazy. I'd masturbated more in the past ten days than I did all through high school, college and med school. I couldn't stand it. I knew he was only a door away... an unlocked door away. No one would know. No one could prove anything. He was letting me know that he wanted me. He called out my name when he hit his orgasm. So what was stopping me? I'd asked myself that a hundred times last night alone. Each time it came down to one statement. We needed to keep our professional lives and our personal lives separate so that we could survive to enjoy said personal lives. That was it. The assignment came first. When this was all over, I had no doubt that we would take some time off and explore every aspect of our relationship. I knew I wanted to. There were a lot of things I wanted to do with and to Mulder. I wanted to strip him and lick every inch of his beautiful body. I wanted to have sex with him everywhere and anywhere . . . every way and every position. When I heard him moan and knew that he was yelling my name because he had jacked off again, I was jealous of his right hand. Was it his right hand or did he use his left? Does he switch hit? I wanted to know everything. I wanted to know how he tasted and smelled and felt. I wanted to tease him with my tongue and draw him as far down my throat as I could. I wanted to taste him, every part of him. I wanted to run my teeth over his nipples and tease him with my tongue. I wanted to stroke my sex with his cock until I came. I wanted his tongue in my ear, my mouth, my sex. I wanted him. I didn't want to ever have to worry about another woman touching him. I was amazed to realize that I was jealous. I hated his clothes because they caressed him as I could not give myself permission to do. I hated every waitress, clerk, secretary, police woman, female agent and doctor we met that coveted him with their eyes, thought of him sexually, lusted after him. And now that he had just laid it all on the line and told me how he felt, I was definitely going to be certifiable by the time this assignment was over. Why was I driving myself crazy? Over and over I forced myself to think about all the good, sound reasons to hold off on this relationship. But every good reason was countermanded with a visual of Mulder lying naked under me, over me, oh my God, IN me. Somewhere near Portland, I came to the conclusion that this must end. Tonight, after we dropped our load, I'd get Mulder to stop at a motel and we would take this final step in our relationship. Well, the second to the last step. We would have our consummation, tonight. Talk of marriage could wait until after the assignment. If I didn't get relief from the need for Mulder I was experiencing, I was going to be too distracted to do my job. We both had to be at the top of our game to catch these guys. This was a dangerous assignment. Besides, if I didn't quit creaming my panties with flashes of fantasies about Mulder, I was going to get diaper rash. We dropped the load and were immediately given another pick up. We had a load of refurbished computers to drop in Little Rock, Arkansas. I took my turn driving down I40 first and Mulder dozed in the seat beside me. I was somewhat tentative at first, but Mulder's confidence in me helped settle my nerves down, at least about driving. I was totally psyched about our evening together. I smiled to myself, thinking of the way things were going to proceed tonight. XXXXXXXXXX PART 6 (PG-13) I40 MEMPHIS, TN SUPER 8 MOTEL I slammed the door of the motel room and threw myself down on the bed, tears beginning to fight their way past my resolve and stream down my face. 'How could he do this to us?' I asked myself. Just when I was ready to take our relationship one step farther, Mulder killed it. I wasn't sure I could even continue the assignment. All the barriers I had built up around my heart that Mulder had so effectively torn down with his words of love and commitment earlier began to move back into place. I could do this. I was a professional. We were on assignment and I could complete it. I'd get a transfer as soon as we solved this case. The thought of living without Mulder caused a fresh spate of tears. I sobbed into my pillow, lying in the dark. What made a man do such things? Why did he have to turn out to be like all the others? I should have known better. I could see it now in my mind, as if it were just happening. We stopped for fuel about five hours down the road. I pulled into a decent looking truck stop and woke Mulder. I asked him if he wanted to stop at the motel across the parking lot for the night, but he said that after we got fueled and ate that we should go on. He didn't know what I had in mind. When I tried to coax him into staying, he was firm about continuing. After I pushed him about his reasoning he finally said, "I don't think I can take another night of jacking off, Scully. I've had enough sleep. Let's just keep going." "There are other things to do in a motel than masturbate, Mulder," I said. I was losing my temper with this stubborn man. How could I convince him without telling him outright that I wanted tonight to be our first time and I didn't want it to happen in a truck bunk. (Continued in part 5)