From: eponine119  <eponine119@att.net>
Date: Thu, 12 Mar 1998 11:14:54 -0800
Subject: Submission: Truth - 640K 

Disclaimer: The X Files and its characters belong to
Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox, not to us. Authors'
notes: This story riffs off just about every fanfic
cliche we could think of.  We did this on purpose, and
hopefully it will be obvious we wouldn't have been
able to write this if we didn't love fanfic enough to
have read lots and lots of stories over the past few
years.  It's also very long. We hope it's amusing
enough to justify both of these things - it sure
cracked us up! ;)  Anyway, send comments, we'll be
devastated if we don't hear from anyone, and you don't
want to do that to us...do you?

Also, because the story is so long, it is available at
http://members.aol.com/shippergrl/truth.txt   At the
moment, the first half is there.  The second half will
be added when it can be!

Enjoy...

The Truth
part one
by eponine119  & Jessica Zyvarek Taylor
eponine119@att.net, jzyvarek@udel.edu


 Mulder was giving a slide show.  Scully always
 thought they were
funny. Not that the images of UFOs, mangled bodies, or
crime scenes were particularly amusing, but that she
always had the notion that he was trying to impress
her with an exciting show - and the best he could
manage were some grainy, reversed slides and an
attempt at witty repartee.  She liked the idea of
Mulder trying to impress her.  It wasn't required that
he succeed or even try. She thought it was cute, and
it made her smile to herself.
 "Agent Scully, can you identify this substance?" he
 intoned.  He
always did his best to make things interactive.
 She looked at the screen, realizing that she'd been
 staring at her
partner.  "It's blue," she offered.  She glanced at
him and he nodded enthusiastically.  "It looks like
the ocean."
 "And what about this one?"
 She looked at the image projected onto the blank wall
 and then looked
at him, wondering if he had finally lost his mind. 
"That's the sun."
 "Agent Scully, I am surprised," he said, but he was
 grinning. "Why?" she asked, not understanding this in
 the least.  And why on
earth was he grinning like that?
 "I'm surprised you recognized it. How long has it
 been since either of
us saw the ocean? Or the sun, for that matter?"
 Scully thought about it, but didn't admit that he was
 right and it had
been a very long time. Instead, she crossed her arms
and asked, "What kind of case is this?"
 "A murder."
 "Somewhere that the sun shines this time of year?"
 she asked, daring
to hope.
 "A tiny island resort in the Virgin Islands," Mulder
 answered.  He
looked like he was also daring to hope.
 "If you're lying to me - if this is a joke -" she
 threatened, uncrossing
her arms in preparation for strangling him in just a
few moments, when the inevitable occurred and he
cried, "Gotcha!"  It was her birthday in a few days -
maybe humiliation was his gift again this year.
 And maybe she wouldn't mind it so much, just as she
 hadn't really
minded the embarrassment of the flaming snowball and
singing waiters at last year's celebration.
 "No joke," Mulder said, and his face turned cold and
 serious, proving
Scully's theory that he could not remain smiling for
more than five minutes.  It was a physical
impossibility or something. He'd been close to
breaking the record this time, as he had been other
times, but...no go.
 "What is it?" she asked,  knowing the case must be
 particularly
gruesome for him to look like that at the prospect of
spending time in the tropics when there was slush on
the ground in DC.
 "No," he said. "I think I'll wait and surprise you."
 "Have I ever mentioned that I dislike surprises,
 Mulder?" "I'll let you read the file when we're on
 our way," he promised. "Playing it safe?" she teased.
 His response was an honest look. "It's
okay, I won't change my mind about going to an island
paradise, no matter how bad it seems," she assured
him.  "Nothing could be that bad."
 "This is."  His face was grim, backing up his
 assertion.

xxx

 "Now Entering Wedded Bliss," read the sign fluttering
 over the end of
the gangplank on board the gleaming white cruise ship.
 "Mulder?" Scully dropped her suitcase and turned to
 face him after her
eyes had given the sign a once-over.
 "You probably shouldn't call me Mulder," he suggested
 gently, taking
her hand into his.  She yanked on it, trying to get it
back, but his tender squeeze held her fast. 
Separating her fingers, he isolated her fourth finger
and slid a plain gold bank onto it.
 Scully stared at her hand in amazement.  Not only did
 the ring fit
perfectly, encircling her finger with its faint gold
caress, but the sensation of having a ring slid onto
her finger was unique. That she probably never would
have felt it but for Mulder and this case did not
escape her, and she knew that she was giving her
partner an odd, soft look, but she couldn't help it.
 "What - what should I call you?"   Her voice had
 turned light and
almost uncertain, betraying her.  She didn't like it.
What other effects could a simple gold band on her
finger have on her personality?
 "Marty?" he tried hopefully, with such a boyish look
 that she had to
laugh.
 "Only if you call me 'Chantal.'"  She was aware that
 Marty was
Mulder's sex kitten alias, and she didn't want him to
think he had rights just because she was wearing his
ring.  "Fox it is," she said, and he made his cringe
comic to amuse her.  She didn't honestly think he had
anything to worry about.  If she remembered to call
him "Fox" even once, she'd be shocked. Old habits
really did die hard.
 "So what is 'Wedded Bliss'?" she asked.
 "Maybe we should take this to our room," he said,
 looking
uncomfortable.
 "Mulder?"
 "Okay, it's a honeymoon cruise for couples who
 postponed the
wedding more than twice and need counseling," he
whispered, then plastered a permagrin on his face.  It
made him look absolutely maniacal.  She didn't like
smiling Mulder, she thought, it was too weird and
disconcerting.  He thumped her back and ordered,
"Smile."
 Her head came up in response to being hit and she saw
 then why he
had been so quick to silence her.  A perky young woman
with reams of golden blonde curls stood before them,
grinning like a moron.  She held a clipboard and wore
a uniform that identified her as a member of the
on-ship staff. "Name?" she chirped.
 "Mulder," said Mulder. "We're in cabin 47A.  If we
 could -"  Grabbing
Scully's hand, he made an effort to push past the
woman.
 "Ah-ah-ah," she cautioned.  She looked at her
 clipboard until she
found them on the list.  "Dana and Fox," she
proclaimed.  "How cute!"  Scully didn't have to look
to know that Mulder was rolling his eyes.  "A lot of
your information is  missing!"  She sounded genuinely
dismayed.
 "Do we have to do this now?" Mulder asked.
 The cruise ship woman whose name tag noted she was
 "Julie" looked
shocked.  But then she broke into a grin, which she
focused on Scully.  Scully imagined Julie thought
another woman would be more susceptible to her
touchy-feeling plight. Scully also knew Julie was
pretty damn wrong.  "I think someone needs some
therapy!" she clucked, nodding her head at Mulder as
though sharing a private joke with Scully. "How many
times did you postpone the wedding?"  Her pen was
poised, ready to write.
 "Too many to count, really -"  Scully tried, vague
 because she didn't
know what a good answer would be, and uncomfortable
with lying.
 Julie patted her arm. "I know you counted every
 instance and that you
hold that number like a grudge in your heart."
 This was making Scully ill.  "How do you know I
 didn't call it off?"
Scully demanded.
 Julie's mouth made a small, shocked O.  "At least you
 finally took the
plunge," she stated, and bounced away to another
couple, leaving a stunned Mulder and Scully to stare
after her. Scully was wondering if water metaphors
like "plunge" were really appropriate on a cruise
ship.
 "Oh my god," said Mulder. "She used to be on The Love
 Boat." "Bite your tongue," Scully snapped, grabbing
 her suitcase and starting
deeper into the ship.  She was anxious to see how bad
their cabin - their *shared* cabin - would be.

xxx

 "There's two beds," she said, and was unable to keep
 the absolute
amazement from creeping into her tone.
 "Disappointed?" Mulder smirked at her as he tossed
 his bag down on
the bed nearest the door.
 "At this delicate time, we wish to accommodate all of
 your wishes,"
came a voice from the door.
 "Who're you?" Scully snapped. She hadn't realized
 she'd left the door
open and that they had gathered an audience. She would
definitely have to be more careful in the future.
 "The porter."
 "We carried our own bags," Mulder pointed out,
 thinking the man was
seeking a tip he wasn't going to be getting.
 "I brought you the schedule of events." The porter
 offered them a pair
of matching ivory sheets of paper. He handled them as
delicately as if they were made of glass.  Scully
thought she saw him wince when she tossed hers
carelessly onto the bed without looking at it.
 "If you need anything," offered the porter. 
 "Champagne, flowers,
security...please call."  He closed the door ever so
gently behind him.
 "Security?" Scully snorted.  "And you say there was a
 murder on this
boat?"
 Mulder shook his head. "On the island, actually," he
 told her. "May I see the case file?" she requested,
 holding out her hand, which
Mulder ignored, as usual.
 "The schedule of events is much more interesting,"
 Mulder told her.
He glanced up from it and saw her outstretched hand.
Into it, he placed his copy of the schedule.
 "I've already got one," she said, but she looked down
 at the page in her
hands.  It was just beginning to amuse her when she
heard her partner's startled cry.  "Mulder?" she
asked.
 "There's no TV," he said forlornly.	
 "What did you expect?" she asked.  "This is a
 honeymoon therapy
cruise.  I'd think a TV would just exacerbate the
situation."  At his troubled, sad pout, she suggested,
"Maybe the porter could get you something."
 "Like some Dramamine," he muttered.
 "Mulder, we haven't even left port yet!"  As though
 the ship had heard
her words, it lurched into motion at that very moment.
 Mulder clutched at the side of his bunk.  "You are
such a baby," she told him. "It's virtually impossible
to detect the motion of the sea in a ship this size.
Its weight acts as a stabilizer -"
 "I just love it when you call me baby," Mulder
 purred, and his eyes
were alight with a teasing fire.
 She was about to correct him, that she had called him
 *a* baby, but
decided it wasn't worth antagonizing him.  He'd heard
her the first time.  "We have to get our story
straight," she said seriously, sitting down on the
bed.
 "Why?" he asked, similarly reclining on his own bunk.
 "We almost got caught by the woman,
 whatsherwhatever," Scully
pointed out.
 A slow grin spread across his face, that same grin
 that always
threatened to melt her inside to a pool of warm
emotion.  "I thought we could just stay here," he
taunted.
 "No," she said, a little too quickly.  Damn it, he
 had to be aware of
these charms of his. He had to know what that grin did
to her or he wouldn't use it.  "We have to
participate, in order to understand the state of mind
of the murderer when -"
 He was closing his eyes like she was boring him to
 death.  It had been
a long day of travel, she realized that, and she could
take a hint, but she also knew it was going to become
an even longer day. "Speaking of the murder, don't you
think I should look at the file?"
 "Don't worry about it," he said, his eyes still
 closed as he waved his
hand dismissively.  She was about to demand what was
in the file that he didn't want her to see when his
hand slowly sank back down onto the bed. He'd fallen
asleep, and almost in mid-thought.  He must have been
exhausted, she thought, feeling sorry for him.
 She walked over to where he lay sleeping and
 experienced the oddest
urge to push back his hair and pull the blankets up to
tuck him in.  Yawning, she called herself insane in
response to these urges, and pushed aside the crazy
notion.  She had approached intending to swipe the
file and study up, but Mulder's head was resting on
his carryon bag.
 She shrugged and yawned again, picking up the
 schedule of events. 
Three days on this ship.  Exploring "couplehood."  She
might as well unpack.

xxx

 Mulder made a noise and Scully lowered her large
 unfolded map so
she could look at him over it.  He made another sleepy
sound and one hand pushed the carryon off the bed.  He
flopped over like a fish and pressed his face into the
pillow.  He was awake, even if he didn't want to be.
 "Mulder, can you explain something to me?" she asked.
 He made a
semi--affirmative sound, so she continued.  "Why is
this a three day cruise when we're only going forty
five miles?"
 He flopped over onto his back and stared up at the
 ceiling, crossing his
arms over his stomach.  He didn't know he had a red
mark on his face, an imprint of the trim of his
luggage.   "So they can have their seminars and
classes," he said.
 "Weird," said Scully.
 There was a bold knock at the door and she rose to
 open it. There
stood Julie.  "It's time!" she cried.
 "For what?" groaned Mulder, but Julie had already
 gone. "It says 'introduction' on the schedule,"
 Scully told him. "Come on." "Do we have to?" he
 groaned again, digging his body closer into the
bed and closing his eyes again. A man in total denial.
 "We should," she told Mulder. Reaching out, she took
 his hand and
pulled him up.  Into a sitting position was the best
she could manage.  His eyes locked on her face, but
she didn't notice.  The sudden movement made the gold
ring catch the light and she stared down at it.  She
still couldn't believe, or explain, all the things it
made her feel.  The sight of one small accessory on
her pale hand, which was linked to Mulder's larger,
strong one, almost took her breath away.
 "Admiring it?" he said softly.
 She felt her face flush but denied it.  "No,
 wondering why you don't
have one," she said casually, releasing him and
stepping back.
 "So Scully, what do you think they make you do at an
 introduction?"
he asked, getting up and stretching.
 "Talk about your feelings," she said in a very, very
 quiet voice.  She
wasn't even sure he'd heard.  But he put his hand
against her back and together they left the cabin.
 She didn't know, but she probably could have guessed,
 that he was
thinking, "That's what I'm afraid of."

xxx

Disclaimer in part one.  If you're missing parts,
visit: http://members.aol.com/shippergrl/truth.txt

Truth
part 2
by Jessica Zyvarek Taylor & eponine119 
jzyvarek@udel.edu, eponine119@att.net

 As they walked down the hall, more couples joined
 them.  Mulder
noticed that all of them were abnormally quiet, but he
figured they were all as nervous about this cruise as
he was.  A few moments later, he corrected himself. 
There was no way they could be as afraid as he was.
they were in no danger of letting something slip that
would destroy their relationship with their best
friend.  Of course, his best friend would probably be
none too pleased with the fact that their boss knew
nothing about their new case.  He had thought it would
be interesting, a chance to relax and spend some time
together that wasn't overly stressful.  Walking
through the open doors of the reception area, he
realized that he should have just offered to take her
on vacation.  Trying to promote friendship and good
feelings was not something that should be based on a
lie.

 The room was small and dimly lit.  It was full of
 tables,
decorated with flowers and candles and sickeningly
romantic music wound its way through the air.  Mulder
was about to suggest that they find a table far in the
back corner, but the cruise line had other ideas for
them.  Julie and her group of happiness gurus were
located just inside the door, speaking with each
couple and directing them to their tables.  Julie
handed Mulder and Scully their name tags, each shaped
like half of a heart holding their own first name and
half of their last name.  Scully turned around
quickly, so that Julie couldn't see it and
demonstrated how, when fit together, the tags formed a
heart that read 'Fox and Dana Mulder.'  She rolled her
eyes and then allowed Julie to fasten the tag to her
shirt.  Then Julie pointed them to a table, almost
directly in the center of the room.  

 He would have protested, but Scully took his hand and
 walked
toward the table, politely nodding to the two other
couples at their table.  She stood there, not sitting
down and not saying anything, but staring pointedly at
Mulder.  He knew he was missing something.  Another
couple arrived, the man offering his hand to each
other person, introducing himself and his wife before
pulling out her chair.  Catching on, Mulder copied
Mike's actions, glaring at Scully for her assumption
that he would be chauvinistic.  She smiled sweetly at
him, completely ignoring that he was making faces at
her, knowing that he couldn't say anything to her.

 The final two seats at the table were occupied by
 Julie and a man
dressed in the same sort of outfit.  They said
nothing, merely observing the couples for several
minutes.  The others smiled and began talking amongst
themselves, but Mulder and Scully just sat there,
staring at everything except each other.  A waiter
served them glasses of wine, giving them one more
thing they could stare at.

 Julie cleared her throat and made eye contact with
 each person at
the table; her partner did the same.  "I just want to
take this opportunity to invite all of you to share
with the group.  You are all here because you have
some issues that you need to explore before you jump
into the ocean of marriage."  Oh, God, all the water
references were going to land this woman in a watery
grave.  Mulder snickered to himself and was answered
with a sharp look from Julie and a sharp pain when
Scully's elbow made contact with his rib cage.  He
winced and promised himself that he would be good. 
"We know that there are as many different reasons for
being here as there are people, but our wide range of
sessions and lectures will offer solutions and problem
solving techniques that will help all of you."

 Julie's assistant took over so quickly that it seemed
 they were
one in the same.  "Private and group counseling will
be available.  At least two counseling sessions with
each couple is an intricate and required part of your
retreat."  Mulder caught Scully's groan, but no one
else heard it.  She hadn't turned to look at him, and
wanting her to know he understood and appreciated her
trepidation, he reached for her hand and squeezed it. 
She squeezed back, and didn't pull her hand away.  He
didn't understand it, and didn't really have time to
question it before he received Julie's approving gaze.

 She once again took over the speech, nodding
 obviously to Mulder
and Scully.  "For those of you with romance on your
mind"  The other couples at the table turned to look
their way and Scully abruptly withdrew her hand. 
"There will be candlelit dinners every evening and
dancing to follow."  Julie finished with a wide,
incredibly fake smile and lifted her glass.  

 Her friend lifted his as well and spoke.  "To love!"

 The sound of clinking glasses followed.  Mulder
 looked around and
saw that the other tables were also having their own
private toasts.  He leaned over and toasted Scully's
glass, smiling a disturbingly intimate smile.

 "To us."  He'd intended to whisper, but in the hushed
 room, the
sound carried further than he'd expected, drawing
several glances their way.  Scully blushed, and
avoided having to respond by taking a long sip of her
wine.

 He knew she was basically brushing him off, probably
 thinking it
was for show.  He hoped no one else noticed.  Someone
did.  Sarah, Mike's wife, who was sitting directly
across from them saw the disappointment on Mulder's
face.  He caught her staring, and expected her to look
away when he met her eyes.  She didn't.  She smiled,
what Mulder considered to be a completely out of place
seductive smile, and then he felt a foot sliding
against his.  His jaw actually dropped open and he
pulled his feet back under the chair.  This was the
last place he expected to have someone come on to him.
 Even more uncomfortable than before, he shifted
slightly, leaning closer to Scully's chair, hoping to
give everyone the impression that they were very much
in love.

 Sarah laughed then, a deep rich laugh connected with
 nothing in
particular and tossed her long brown hair back.  He
was too busy staring at Sarah, a woman he did have to
admit was obnoxiously beautiful, to notice Scully
glare first at Sarah and then at Mulder.  

 Julie's partner, identified by his name badge as
 Matt, completely
missed the cause, but could see the tension between
Mulder and Scully. He'd been staring at them the whole
time, unable to understand why their interactions were
changing from touchy feely to utter annoyance so
quickly and so often.  The ship's staff worked in
pairs with four couples to each pair.  They worked
together, one male, one female, to isolate and
identify the problems, then to try every trick
imaginable to cover, if not eradicate, the problem. 
He cleared his throat and waited for everyone's eyes
to turn to him.  He knew he needed to interrupt before
the fight started, since at this point, it was the
only way to avoid it.

 "Everyone is free to walk on deck or retire to your
 cabins now.
Dinner will be served here at six, and also in the
other dining room at seven, if you prefer to eat
later."  The couples began to stand and Matt continued
before any of them got away.  "We do ask that you fill
out your schedule requests as soon as possible and
return them to myself or Julie so we can plan
accordingly.  We will make every attempt to fulfill
everyone's first choice, but we can't guarantee it.  I
also would like to take this opportunity to remind
everyone that there will be a justice of the peace
available on the island if you would like to renew
your vows." He let the insinuation that they would
make everything better hang in the air.  It sent a
pleasant murmur through the group, the murmur
successfully masking Mulder's rude grunt.

 Scully looked at him, about to rebuke him for
 embarrassing her and
flirting with Sarah, but her cell phone rang,
instantly silencing the room and turning all eyes
toward them.  She reached for it, even more
embarrassed. 

 Mulder saw the chance and used it.  He stood up
 quickly, and
practically threw the chair back at the table.  "I
thought I told you to leave that at home."

 Scully's bewildered look made him want to apologize
 immediately.
She spoke quietly, completely opposite of the way
Mulder had.  "I don't recall you mentioning it."  All
she wanted was to crawl back to the cabin and feign
being seasick until she could hop on the first flight
back to the snow covered streets of home.

 "You know I asked you not to bring it.  We're on a
 romantic cruise
and you have to bring your work along."  

 She hid her smile at the irony of his words and
 looked him in the
eye for the first time since his outburst, expecting
to see a hint of humor in his eyes.  There was none. 
She stood up, turned off the phone and threw it at
him, watching as he scrambled to catch it.  Then she
put her hands on her hips and gave him a look that
made his blood run cold. "What difference does it make
to you?  We're on our honeymoon cruise since we
finally made it all the way to the altar"  Her
emphasis on the word 'all'  made it seem as though
there had been several instances that he had jilted
her, making him cringe and want to pat her on the back
at the same time.  "and you are playing footsie under
the table."

 He winced, not even hearing the whispers of the
 others, and let
his shoulders droop.  There was no point explaining
that Sarah was playing footsie with him, not the other
way around.   He could tell by her tone that she was
either genuinely hurt or that she was an excellent
actress.  

 She waited for him to respond, unprepared for the
 fury that seized
her.  They were undercover on a romantic getaway and
he still had to flirt with every woman except her.  It
burned her, more  than she had imagined possible. 
There was one good thing about this argument, though. 
She could be as irrational as she wanted and then
later just say she was pretending.  She picked up her
wine glass and doused him with what was left, then she
turned and stomped out of the room.

 He ran a hand through his damp hair to push it back
 from his face.
There was no faking the anger he'd seen on her face. 
She was mad.  Just in time for three days of
relationship counseling.  Suddenly aware of the eyes
glued to him, he looked up and stared back.  The room
began moving again, everyone looking away and
conversations resuming, undoubtedly about him.  Mike
looked furious and Mulder could only assume that this
was not the first time Sarah had acted
inappropriately.  Sarah, on the other hand, didn't
seem the slightest bit interested in Mulder anymore. 
He saw Julie turn towards him and he quickly pushed
through the crowd and followed Scully.  He knew he was
the last person, other than Sarah, that she wanted to
see, but he didn't think he could stand the stares of
people if he headed anywhere else.

 He knew it would be locked, but he tried the door
 anyway.  The
knob didn't budge.  He knocked on the door, and when
it went unanswered, he knocked again.  "Come on, Dana,
open the door."  Sarah and Mike walked past him and
stopped at the door next to his.  Mulder sighed with
the injustice of it all.  "Honey, please unlock the
door."  He turned and caught Sarah's gaze as she was
closing the door, a tight smile on her lips.  He
couldn't be sure, but he thought she winked.  At any
other time, under any other circumstances, he'd be
flattered.  He'd probably even pursue her, but at this
time, under these circumstances, he couldn't be less
interested in a woman.  He was still staring at the
closed door next to his, when Scully pulled it open.

 "Go ahead.  I'm going for a walk."  She stormed off
 again, not
giving him the chance to apologize or talk her into
sitting down.  She was misunderstanding his role in
all this and he didn't like it.  Maybe relationship
counseling was exactly what they needed.  He walked
into the room and was rather upset to discover that
one of the two beds had been removed.  Walking over to
it and carefully moving Scully's things to the table,
he thought about the situation.  Maybe counseling
wouldn't be necessary.  Maybe one night having to lie
next to each other, where they would be acutely aware
of the other's every move, would be enough to spur a
conversation and convince Scully to forgive him.  If
not, he could just pretend he was sleeping and put his
arm around her and getting to lie there next to her
would be rewarding enough to forgive her for not
listening to him.

 He stretched out and closed his eyes, lulled to sleep
 by the
gentle motion of the ship.  A knock at the door awoke
him.  He rubbed his eyes and walked to the door, not
knowing whether it had been twenty minutes or twenty
hours, but still thinking it was high time Agent
Scully and her huff returned.  He barely got the
chance to realize that it wasn't Scully before a robe
clad, hysterical Sarah threw herself into his
unexpecting arms and sobbed. 

 He pulled back and saw a large red welt on her cheek.
  His
protective urge surged up and he ran his hand across
it gently.  "What happened?"

 Sarah hiccuped and made quite a show of trying to
 gather herself.
Mulder was too busy being concerned to see that Scully
was standing almost two feet away with her arms
crossed over her chest, tapping her foot.

 "Oh, Fox, he hit me!  He thought I was cheating on
 him!"  

 Sucked into the soap opera, thinking it was his fault
 for the
scene at the reception, he put his arms around her and
patted her back. "Shhh.  It's all right.  It's my
fault.  I'll explain it to him.  I'll tell him there's
nothing going on.  The problem is between Dana and me,
it has nothing to do with you."

 Sarah, appearing so innocent and helpless to Mulder,
 knew that
Scully was standing there listening.  "Oh, but Fox,
you can't lie! He'll know.  He might hurt you and I
couldn't live with myself."

 Scully couldn't take anymore.  She stepped forward,
 pushing the
embracing couple out of her way and starting throwing
her stuff back into her bag.  "Oh, Fox, darling, I
couldn't live with myself if I let this charade
continue for another moment."  The sarcasm dripping
off her tongue was enough to make Mulder immediately
withdraw from Sarah.

 "It's not what it looks like, Sc.... Dana."

 She zipped her bag closed and through it over her
 shoulder,
shooting Sarah and Mulder looks at the same time. 
"You would be amazed how many times I've heard that
and known, as I do now, that it was a complete and
utter lie."  She stepped toward the door, but
sniffling Sarah was blocking her path.  "Get out of my
way!"

 Sarah whimpered and moved aside, whining at Mulder as
 Scully tried
to walk away.  "Fox, I've ruined your cruise.  I'm so
sorry.  I just didn't know who else to turn to.  I
knew you would help me and now I've" She stopped long
enough to sob loudly.  "I've ruined everything and
everyone hates me!"  Sarah was so good at whining that
a person could get drunk off it.

 Ignoring her, Mulder grabbed Scully's arm.  She tried
 to pull
away, but he tightened his grip and pulled her around
to face him.  "Where are you going?"

 She jerked her arm away, but his grip was tight and
 she knew her
attempt to free herself was going to give her bruises.
 "Anywhere.  I'm getting off this boat and away from
you if I have to swim to shore."  She threw another
glare at Sarah, and then stared back at Mulder.  "I'm
sure you won't miss me too much."  

 She'd caught him off guard with her last remark and
 was able to
wrench her arm away and tear off down the hall so fast
that Mulder actually missed which way she went.  He
tried to follow her, but Sarah threw herself at his
back and wrapped her arms around his neck.  As if
Mulder wasn't having enough problems, Mike chose that
moment to open the door.  Sarah saw the opportunity
arise again and couldn't resist.

 "Oh, no, Fox, please don't let him hurt me!"  She
 ducked her head
and whimpered.

 Mike's stoic face reminded Mulder more of someone who
 was
incredibly bored than of someone who was violently
angry.  "Fox, I'm terribly sorry for the trouble Sarah
has caused you and Dana.  She hasn't been taking her
medicine lately, and I'm afraid it has some rather
irksome effects.  She's not like this usually."  He
reached out to take Sarah's hand and she pulled away,
still connected to Mulder enough to cause him to trip
backwards.

 "NO!  He's going to drug me and then beat me again." 
 She dropped
onto the bed and cried into a pillow.

 Mulder stepped in front of Mike, aborting his second
 attempt to
collect Sarah.  "What's she on medicine for?"  He was
not about to allow anyone to beat anyone, no matter
how much trouble she was making for him personally.

 "I've got papers documenting her condition in the
 other room.
She's delusional."

 "I'd like to see those papers.  She has a huge mark
 on her face
that came from someone's hand.  Unless I'm delusional
too."

 Mike sighed.  "I really don't see what business it is
 of yours,
Sir.  If you'd like to summon security, I'd be more
than willing to show the proof to the proper
authorities."

 Mulder pulled out his badge.  "I'm an FBI agent and
 I'd like to
see those papers now."

 Mike nodded and went back to his room for the papers.
  Mulder
checked both ways down the hall, hoping that Scully
was going to come back.  And Sarah lifted her tear
streaked face out of the pillow and offered a
brilliantly insane smile to Mulder's back.

end of part two
send comments
jzyvarek@udel.edu, eponine119@att.net

Disclaimer in part one.  If you're missing parts,
visit http://members.aol.com/shippergrl/truth.txt

The Truth
part three
by eponine119  & Jessica Zyvarek Taylor
eponine119@att.net, jzyvarek@udel.edu


 Mulder accompanied Mike to his and Sarah's cabin,
 where Mike
showed him the prescriptions for powerful
anti-psychotic drugs, and the reports and paperwork
from her physician that would allow them to transport
such drugs out of the country.  Sarah was a basket
case, Mulder read.  "Why hasn't she been taking
these?" he asked Mike, surprised that under the
circumstances, she had been allowed to discontinue her
treatment.
 "I give them to her. She'll do anything to not take
 them.  Fake
swallowing, hide them in her sleeves, anywhere, to
discard later.  I can tell by her behavior," Mike said
and he sounded very sorry.
 "Don't they make her feel better?" Mulder asked Mike,
 surprised that
Sarah would resist treatment so very strongly. He knew
there was an acute societal bias against the mentally
ill - he was a student of psychology and even he
cringed when somebody referred to him as "crazy" - but
Mulder thought Sarah would like to feel better.
 "She thinks her normal state is 'better.'" Mike
 explained.  "You didn't
see where it listed 'paranoid' among her symptoms?"
 Mulder let his eye fall over the papers again, and
 this time he did
notice the inclusion of paranoid among the many other
problems.  He looked up and met Mike's eyes.  "That
doesn't explain the handprint on her face."
 "Doesn't it?" Mike asked.  By unspoken agreement, the
 two men
walked back to Mulder's cabin, where they found Sarah
as they'd left her, pretending to sleep.
 "Sarah?" Mulder said, and she sat up and immediately
 began her
attempt to reattach herself to him.  He took one of
her hands and she gave it willingly, thinking this was
leading to where she wanted it to, even though Mike
was standing in the doorway.  Mulder held her hand,
which was rather large considering her size and
feminine stature, up against the mark on her cheek. 
It fit exactly.  Sarah had walloped herself one.
 As soon as she realized she'd been discovered, she
 began to fight him.
Mulder struggled to hold her still, crushed against
his body so she couldn't actually injure him. "Sarah,
I'm very flattered you'd go to these lengths.  But
you're a very sick young lady.  Please stop fighting
me - stop fighting Mike - so that we can help you."
 Her struggles ceased and she looked at him
 tentatively.

xxx

 It was almost eight o'clock before the matter was
 resolved.  Mulder
left Mike grim-faced, supervising the loading of a
screaming, cursing Sarah onto a helicopter they'd
summoned from Florida to remit Sarah to an institution
where she would be kept from harming herself, and
hopefully she would gradually get better.  She hadn't
liked the straight jacket when they put it on her, and
Mulder hated the thought of anyone being restrained in
such an archaic way, but he also knew it was
necessary.
 He needed to relax. His shoulders ached and his jaw
 was pure agony.
He knew he tended to carry the majority of his tension
in both spots when he was feeling pressure.  And he
needed to find Scully.  He didn't know what was going
on with her.  Had she really been angry, or had she
(hopefully) just been putting on a good show?  Mulder
knew he was being optimistic with that last option. 
She'd seemed genuinely angry.  A fact he found very,
very interesting.
 She was jealous.
 And that was about the only way he could tell when
 the normally stoic
Scully was having feelings about him.  She kept them
so very well hidden, but she couldn't moderate her
temper all of the time.  Mulder was fairly certain
that when he found her, she was going to be extremely
cool with him.  Calm, collected, absolutely rational,
but also very reserved.  Careful.  That made him
sorry.
 Which was why he swiped a posie of flowers from one
 of the outer
dining tables as he passed it.  It was mostly white,
with a couple of daisies and some other weedlike
flowers he couldn't identify.  But they were flowers,
and they would help.  He remembered Julie saying that
dinner was served at seven.  Mulder figured Scully
would be there out of boredom, curiosity and a need
for understanding in the terms of their case, if
nothing else.  He was also hoping that he wasn't too
late to grab a bite to eat, even if it was almost
eight.
 Mulder spotted Scully sitting at the bar, alone.  Her
 eyebrows were
slightly raised in her staring off into space, lost in
thought expression and her fingers toyed with the
moisture on the glass before her.  The liquid in it
was clear and Mulder knew she was drinking water.  He
approached her stealthily from behind, watching her
all the while.  She sighed just before he reached her,
a gentle relaxation of her back, giving her shoulders
an almost forlorn tilt to them.  He thrust the flowers
underneath her nose.
 Scully jumped and whirled around. Her eyes were full
 of surprise for a
few seconds until she fully saw him.  Then they closed
down, turned to that arctic blue. "Mulder," she said
without much expression at all.
 He waved the flowers again, re-presenting them. 
 "These are for you,"
he said, finding himself grinning at giving her
flowers. It also eased some of the tension in his jaw,
which he liked.
 Her eyes flicked over to the few remaining diners in
 the room.
"They're from one of the tables."  She located her
target, and then looked back up at him.  "The second
table from the door, in the corner."
 "But I got them for you," he tried, giving her his
 best 'please forgive
me?' look.
 Reluctantly, she accepted the bouquet.  Yes! Mulder's
 heart cried in
triumph. Until she placed them on the bar behind them
without so much as sniffing them.  "How's Sarah?" she
asked carefully.
 "She was delusional, Scully," said Mulder.  "The
 handprint on her face
was her own, she was injuring herself to get attention
- or something.  We summoned a helicopter to take her
to a hospital in Florida.  Hopefully, there she'll
learn to be okay."
 Scully gave him a look like he'd just told her Sarah
 had actually been
the ghost of his great-uncle Larry's beloved 1946
Buick.  Incredulous.  "You're serious?" she asked.
Mulder nodded. "And I supposed that as a psychologist
and a profiler, you recognized these severe symptoms
in her and felt you had to act, and that's why -"
 He interrupted her with a self-depreciating look.  "I
 don't think we
need to have lies in our relationship, Scully.  Why is
why I have to admit that, no, I didn't see those
things in her."  Scully closed her mouth and set it
and Mulder felt that terrible ache return to his
stressed out body.  "However, I was never interested
in her.  The fact that you and I are here should tell
you -"
 "Hey!"  That perky scream could only belong to one
 person.  The two
agents turned around, frowning at the interruption,
and focused their glares on the effervescent Julie. 
"There you two are!"  she said, as though she had
missed them both personally.  "There's a great seminar
starting at eight, I know you two don't want to miss
it!"
 Rather than going away, moving on, inviting other
 couples to join their
little party as well, Julie remained, looking at them
expectantly.  "Well? Come on!"  She seized Mulder's
right hand and Scully's left and dragged them along
behind her to the main conference room, which was
beyond the formal dining room.  Mulder shot Scully a
look and she returned it.  They had just been
kidnapped.
 Great idea, Mulder thought, two people are finally
 talking and on the
verge of discussing their intimate personal feelings
for one another - or at least, confessing to a tiny
bit of inappropriate thinking - and Julie interrupts
them. What a road to communication.
 The conference room boasted thick, forest green plush
 carpet, wood
(or a reasonable facsimile of wood) paneling, and an
enormous fireplace, which crackled and glowed with
heat and fire.  There were also twelve other couples
gathered, sitting on the floor, all of them in Tshirts
and shorts or workout gear.  At first glance, it
reminded Mulder for all the world of a Lamaze class
and that set his heart to beating a frightened rhythm.
 That didn't ease when Julie released her grip and
locked the door behind them.
 "Now we're all here," she said, casting a beaming
 grin on Mulder and
Scully.  "We don't want to be interrupted."  She
bounced on up to the front of the room, where her
partner Matt was waiting for her.  Mulder remained
standing near the door, as did Scully.  She looked
just as freaked out by this as he felt.  Julie turned
and looked at them, wondering why they were just
standing there.
 "Thirteen's an unlucky number," Mulder tried.
 "Oh, but you counted wrong!"  Matt's voice boomed
 through the space
of the room.  "Julie and I are here, that makes
fourteen. That's why we needed one more."
 "Please, don't be shy. Come on up here," invited
 Julie.  She waved her
arm and didn't stop until Mulder and Scully began to
move closer.  They only did as she said because they
feared she would suffer an injury from the repetition
of that wild arm movement.
 They settled on the floor in front of the fireplace. 
 Scully looked at
Mulder, and he just looked on back.  "Do you have any
idea what this is?" she leaned in to whisper to him.
 "No clue," he admitted.
 It was at that moment that Julie began to speak,
 introducing their
seminar of the night.  "Welcome to Touch Therapy!" she
cried.
 Mulder and Scully groaned simultaneously. 
 Julie heard them and turned sharply in their
 direction.  Her face
showed no dismay or judgment at their reaction.
Instead, she worked them into her little spiel.  "The
healing power of touch is often underestimated in
every day life.  I'm sure that many of you - most of
you - enjoy healthy, exciting sex lives.  You may even
be thinking, how is this going to help our
relationship, if that's not the problem?  Well, this
isn't about sex."
 Scully let out a little breath she hadn't realized
 she'd been holding. "This is about trust." Mulder's
 jaw hurt so much he imagined it was a bow, strung
 taut into a
curve inside the musculature of his face.  Any second
that thin string was going to snap and it was going to
become a straight stick again and fly across the room.
He imagined that would be pretty painful.
 "Most people are protective of their personal space. 
 Even with their
partners," Julie continued, and Mulder and Scully had
to wonder at her apt choice of words.  "Only certain
people are allowed to breach this space, and only at
certain times.  By learning to accept touch, we can
begin to heal our inner love."
 "There are also channels of energy that flow through
 the body," Matt
picked up where Julie had left off.  "These channels
can become blocked by stress, or illness, or any
number of things.  Simple, directed touching can open
these channels, and even redirect them to flow in more
productive directions. Acupuncture functions on these
same ideas."
 "And touching feels so much better," Julie quipped,
 and the other
couples in the room laughed, right on cue. Not Mulder
or Scully.  They weren't even looking at each other at
this point.  They couldn't.
 "Women first," Julie ordered, stripping her
 sweatshirt off and
arranging her shiny Lycra covered form on her stomach
in front of Mike. "Come on," she said, coaxing them. 
The sounds of twelve couples shifting into position
could be heard throughout the room. Then couple
thirteen realized there was no going back, and moved
as well.  Scully pulled off her suit jacket, revealing
the light knit sweater she wore underneath.  It was
rather form fitting, Mulder noticed as she gingerly
lay on her stomach in front of him.
 She jumped when he first touched her.  Her entire
 body jerked and she
let out a hiccuping laugh, embarrassed.  She tried to
force herself to relax, but somehow she couldn't, not
with Mulder's hands on her.  She thought she could
feel the details of his fingerprints burning into her
skin even through her shirt. She closed her eyes and
found that it helped her to leave self-consciousness
behind and focus on Matt's instructions on breathing. 
 A few minutes later, she began to notice her limbs
losing their tension.
 That was when Mulder's fingers, previously resting
 against her back,
began to move.  They swept almost too lightly down the
bones of her spine and she lost the momentum of her
calm breathing for a second.  As that feathery touch
reached her lower back, it shifted outwards and then
she felt the heels of his hands burrow into the flesh
between her hipbones and her ribs. She moaned at the
pleasant pain.
 "That's good, go with the feeling, don't hold your
 feelings inside,"
cooed Julie, who seemed to be having no reaction at
all to Matt's impersonal, demonstrative touch.
 The sensation continued as his hands continued to dig
 in even, circular
grinds into her muscles.  Mulder focused just the
proper amount of time on every area, giving her the
attention she needed without letting the good feelings
fade into irritation or pain.  His fingers climbed
back up towards her shoulders, spending extra time
there, and even moving down the muscles in her upper
arms.  She had no idea that she could be tense there. 
She'd been carrying so much for so long, and now he
was helping her to release all of that.
 His touch turned delicate on her neck.  She sighed
 with the softness of
it, and then found tears flooding her eyes as each
horrible moment represented in the knots of her body
were untied and released.  At Matt's bidding, Mulder
removed his hands.  She almost cried out for him to
keep touching her, because it felt so good. Not what
he was doing, not that he was rubbing her muscles, but
just that he was touching her. The simple touch of
another human being had that power.  It had been so
very long.  She lay there limp on the carpet and
feeling the heat of the fire infuse her, feeling
emotional and spent.
 "Now turn over," Julie said, obviously having missed
 her calling as a
fitness video instructor.
 Scully hesitated.  She could sense Mulder's confusion
 at that pause.  It
was as though somehow his touching her had opened a
sharing of thoughts and understanding between them. 
She found that notion both comforting and uneasy.  She
barely had enough strength to flop onto her back.
 She opened her eyes for just a second, wanting to
 check in with
Mulder, wanting to see his eyes.  Tears she'd been
holding back spilled out and she knew he could see
that she was crying because he'd been touching her. 
It had been that good, that...powerful.  She was also
aware of her nipples being hard despite the fact that
she was lying a foot from a roaring fire, and she
didn't imagine he'd miss that one, either.  She felt
like she was lying naked in front of him, stripped to
the essence of her physical and emotional self. All of
her defenses had melted away in the massage.  One
instant of contact between their eyes transmitted all
of this.
 "Close your eyes," Julie instructed, and Scully was
 glad. At Matt's urging, Mulder's fingertips began to
 roam over her face,
exploring its contours.  They washed lightly over her
eyelids several times like a gentle rain, then prodded
deeper into her temples and behind her ears.  The
world was drifting away again and she was pleased.
 Until it had to end.  "Okay, his turn!" Matt cried
 jubilantly.  "The
rewards for your hard work are at hand, ha ha."
 Mulder's fingers remained against her bare skin for
 several long
moments.  She opened her eyes and looked at him.  She
couldn't sit up; the faint pressure of his ten fingers
near her lips held her into place as surely as an
invisible science fiction forcefield.  "Mulder -" she
began to say, and her voice cracked.
 His fingers were gone. She was free.  The spell had
 been broken. 
Drowsily, she sat up and then drew her body up onto
her knees as Mulder lay down before her.  Now she felt
powerful.  She had not felt subservient to him as she
had lain on the floor open to him, but now she felt as
though he was somehow giving himself to her.  It was a
very special feeling, hot in her chest. Or was she
merely too close to the fire?
 She followed Julie's instructions loosely, listening
 with only half an
ear for general suggestions.  Scully knew the
structure of the muscles - it hadn't been that long
since med school - and she could use that knowledge,
paired with physics and the way it acted on the body
together with years of observing her partner, to
discover his own personal tension zones.
 He gave a little scream when she teasingly pinched
 the beginnings of
fat deposits on the sides of his stomach - "love
handles."  That scream made her smile.  She was
beginning to feel like his body was her property and
she liked it.  She discovered Mulder's spine was hard
and bony, and that his back curved enticingly.  The
skin above his elbows was tender and white.  The scar
on his shoulder where she'd shot him was smooth and
stiff and wonderfully sensitive, judging from the way
he reacted when she slid her hand inside the collar of
his white undershirt to touch it.  Or maybe her hands
were cold?  She didn't know.  He bore more tension in
one shoulder than the other, one side of his neck more
than the other. His hair grew in gorgeous patterns on
the back of his neck, thick and silky.  He sighed when
she began to explore behind his ears, where she could
feel the right-angle corner of his jaw under that
beard- stubbly skin.
 Julie was walking around, checking on the couples as
 she gave her
instructions.  Scully wondered if Matt had done the
same thing. She hadn't been aware of his voice
approaching and receding, but she had been unaware of
everything but Mulder's touch while he was ministering
to her.  "Good," Julie said encouragingly, dropping a
hand on Scully's shoulder.  She paused there to give
the command for the men to turn over and lie on their
backs.
 Scully wondered what she would see in Mulder's eyes
 when he moved
to his back.  He didn't move at the command.  His
hesitation persisted into reluctance.  Julie, still
standing close, noticed, and moved a step closer.
"Relax," Julie told Mulder.  "Think about something
else for a moment."  Her eyes flickered to Scully,
raking over her hands.  "The wedding.  Why did the two
of you finally marry?"
 "She was pregnant," Mulder said in the voice a
 contented, purring cat
would use if one could talk.
 But the words hit Scully like an entire bucket of icy
 water.  Her back
stiffened and she couldn't say she didn't gasp.  She
stumbled backwards onto her feet, blind to everything
but the pain she felt, pain Mulder had to know he had
inflicted, and the fact that she had to get out of the
room, immediately.
 "Shit!" Mulder said, rolling and getting to his feet.
  The moment he
heard that sharp intake of breath as though Scully had
been sucker-punched in the stomach, he knew he'd done
something very wrong.  He hadn't meant to hurt her, he
hadn't even fucking been thinking, that was the
problem. Julie had put the image of a wedding into his
mind, with a pristine white satin gown and a dance at
the reception that placed Scully in his arms, his,
forever, and the thought had been so appealing it had
expanded into the bedroom, a house with a white picket
fence in the country, and Scully heavy with his child.
He'd forgotten the truth, that none of it was real. 
And in his need to get to her and explain, apologize,
to regain a fraction of the healing energy that had
flowed between them, he'd also forgotten the reason
he'd been so embarrassed to turn over and had needed
Julie's mind-game in the first place, and that was the
fact that he was very, very aroused by the way Scully
had been touching him.
 He ran out after her.

end of part three.  send comments. 
eponine119@att.net, jzyvarek@udel.edu

Disclaimer in part one.  If you're missing parts,
visit http://members.aol.com/shippergrl/truth.txt

Truth
Part 4
by Jessica Zyvarek Taylor & eponine119 
jzyvarek@udel.edu, eponine119@att.net

 Julie had understood the reason behind Mulder's
 reluctance to move
and knew how to get his mind off it, but she wasn't
prepared for him to stand up just then.  Her green
eyes grew wide for a moment before she turned away let
Mulder leave the room.  The thought that Julie and
Matt were going to have a good laugh over the
situation and the knowledge that Scully was probably
never going to forgive him was enough to effectively
destroy the mood.  His first goal was to find Scully,
after that he would figure out what to say to her.

 He approached the first people he saw, another Matt
 and Julie,
with name tags he couldn't read in the dark.  "Have
you seen my wife? Petite redhead who just went running
through these doors?"

 They shared a confused look and the woman spoke. 
 "It's unusual to
see people running out of Touch Therapy.  Counseling
it's almost common..."

 True to form, the man picked up where the woman left
 off and
Mulder wondered how extensive their training must have
been to get pairs of people to be able to finish each
other's sentences.  But then he thought about Scully. 
Sometimes it just happened, like it was supposed to
be.  "She went that way"  waving his hand to indicate
the left.  "I  think I heard the door open, she's
probably on deck somewhere."

 The woman smiled and continued.  "It can get very
 cold out there,
you should make sure she's all right."

 Mulder nodded and swallowed his pride enough to walk
 back into
Touch Therapy to collect the jacket Scully had
abandoned.  Then he followed the man's directions. 
Scully's father was a sailor and Mulder knew she loved
the sea.  It made sense that she would be out there,
staring off at the water, thinking about something
infinitely more pleasant than her partner who was so
adept at hurting her feelings that he didn't even have
to try.

 He eventually found her up on the sun deck, a good
 three stories
above their cabin in the windiest section of the boat.
 If he was cold, she was freezing.  He didn't say
anything, just put her jacket around her shoulders and
hoped she would turn around.  She quickly slide her
arms into the sleeves, buttoning up the front, looking
for all the world like someone standing in the arctic
circle wearing a bathing suit rather than someone on a
cruise ship wearing a sweater and a jacket.  His
prayers were answered and she turned around. 
Unfortunately, his earlier suspicions were correct
also and he could recognize easily the cold stare in
her eyes without being able to clearly make out the
rest of her features.

 "Scully, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to..."

 She held up her hand and stopped him, and then
 completed the
transformation into his stand-offish unfeeling
coworker.  She wasn't his partner when she looked at
him like that, she was the person who found out he'd
been drinking coffee without putting money in the
collection.  "Don't worry about it, Mulder.  It's all
an act.  I didn't think anyone would sit there while
their husband said they'd only gotten married because
she was pregnant.  I certainly wouldn't."

 He looked her right in the eye.  Maybe she was
 convincing herself,
but she wasn't convincing him.  "You certainly
didn't."  She made an annoyed noise and turned away. 
He took advantage of it and stepped close behind her,
putting his hands on either side of the railing and
leaning in so she could hear him over the wind.  At
least, that's what he told himself.  "We're supposed
to be a disgruntled couple who want desperately to
fall back in love.  It was the first thing that popped
into my head"  A complete lie since the first thing
that had popped into his head was how she'd gotten
pregnant in the first place.  "that would make a
relationship fall apart."

 She turned her head a little, but, realizing that it
 would put
their faces within inches of each other, thought
better of it.  "Well, it worked wonders on our
relationship.  I mean, our fake one."

 Her quick correction instantly clued him in on how
 much he'd hurt
her.  His hands inexplicably moved from the railing to
her arms, Mulder unconsciously recalling the entire
touch speech Barbie and Ken had given them.  She
shrugged him off, but his hands remained fastened to
her.  "Why don't we get some sleep and talk about this
in the morning?  We're tired from the flight down here
and these are stressful working conditions."

 She turned suddenly, the vast majority of her body
 coming in
contact with his, and glowered at him.  "Yes, I
imagine it could be especially traumatic to have to
act like you care about someone when you really
don't."  She stopped momentarily to breathe, but not
long enough for him to defend himself.  "Since they've
taken the liberty of removing one of our beds, how
about you go get some sleep and I'll stay here for a
while.  I'm not tired.  I'll wake you up when I want
to go to bed."

 He opened his mouth Matt's voice came out.  Scully
 winced and
slipped up long enough to let Mulder see her
crestfallen look.  "Hey guys! We were worried about
you.  I'm sorry to interrupt your romantic moment, but
we've got something we think you'll appreciate."

 The rushing wind couldn't muddle Matt's voice any,
 but it worked
on Scully's so that Mulder could just catch what she
was muttering.  "Is that the royal we or are you
referring to your imaginary friend?"

 Matt smiled a brilliant gleaming smile and stepped
 forward.  "I'm
sorry?"

 She mirrored his smile, not even noticing Mulder's
 dumb-founded
open mouthed acknowledgment of seeing a full-fledged
smile on her face. "Lead the way!"

 Matt led them to a room, almost identical to the
 Touch Therapy
room except with chairs.  He escorted them in and
handed them off to Tanya and Daniel, and then
disappeared.  Mulder couldn't shake the feeling that
Matt had followed them and waited to intervene until
the exact last moment to stop them from storming away
from each other.

 Tanya was almost a perfect copy of Julie, but short
 obviously
faked auburn hair replaced Julie's golden curls.  The
happy smile was intact, as was the little skipper
outfit, all in all giving Mulder the idea that Tanya
was really a grown up Annie.  He expected her to
launch into a stunning alto rendition of 'Tomorrow' at
any moment.  Instead she reached for Scully's hand and
smiled harder. 

 "Dana, I'm so glad you're here."

 Dana was not amused or fooled.   Her icy tone made
 Mulder thank
his lucky stars that it wasn't aimed at him for once. 
"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

 Tanya emitted a sweet giggle.  "No, dear, but I've
 just spoken
with Julie and we were afraid that you might be
upset."

 So confused by a girl that was maybe 19, if she was
 being kind,
calling her dear, Scully didn't formulate a reply fast
enough.  Daniel outstretched his hand and motioned
toward two of the four unoccupied chairs.  "If you'd
be so kind as to sit down, we can all begin our
session."

 Mulder found his voice finally.  "And what session
 would this be
again?"  All the information he had was that he and
Scully were going to love it.  Judging from Daniel's
grin, he seriously doubted that.

 "It's our Positive Criticism session."

 Mulder raised his eyebrows, exactly the same way
 Scully did.
Annie, Tanya, whoever laughed.  "You guys are too
much."  Both of their inquisitive expressions
disappeared as they sat down.  There were ten chairs
in all, set in a large circle, but each one was turned
to face a partner.  Once they were seated Tanya's
speech continued.  "Criticism is usually harsh and
undoubtedly at the center of most arguments.  But
often, such criticism is needed."

 Mulder leaned over to Scully and muttered.  "I wonder
 how well she
would take criticism on her lecture."

 Daniel frowned while Tanya pretended not to notice
 the whisper.
"There is a way to make correction easier and we do
mean more than just constructive criticism.  Here, we
use positive sentiments and positive words to help our
partners stay on track.  Daniel and I will demonstrate
and then we ask that you each take turns trying it."

 Tanya sat down in her chair and reached for Daniel's
 hands.  His
smile faded slightly, but not completely.  He even
sounded partially sincere and Mulder decided this was
his employment until he could afford the plane ticket
to LA.  "Tanya, I love you and I hate it when you
leave dishes in the sink."

 Tanya nodded, pretending to consider his words, and
 then looked
over the group, never separating her hands from
Daniel's.  "If you can't think of anything critical to
say, you can always say something positive. For
example, Daniel, I love you dearly and your hair looks
wonderful today."

 Daniel spoke again.  "Are there any questions?"  He
 waited, there
were none, it wasn't a difficult concept to grasp. 
"OK, Nicki and Kyle, your turn."

 Two couples later, all eyes turned to Mulder and
 Scully, who
reluctantly turned their eyes on each other.  Their
hands were apart, twisted in their laps.  Tanya's
voice filled the air, distracting everyone from the
nerve-racking silence.  "You guys need to hold hands. 
It helps the flow of communication."

  Mulder and Scully were fresh out of smart remarks,
  so they
reached out to grasp hands lightly, tentatively. 
Mulder swallowed and decided to speak first.  "Dana, I
love you and"  He was careful to avoid making eye
contact, fearful that she might see the absolute truth
to his words.  "It bothers me when you shut me out." 
He hadn't meant to be honest, but it was the least
critical thing he could think of and he knew everyone
would see through him not having anything negative to
say since they'd all seen one argument and heard about
the other.

 Scully paled slightly, giving Mulder the chance to
 pray that she
might pass out and spare them both the embarrassment
of letting this continue.  "Fox I love you and it
bothers me when you invade my privacy."  

 Mulder sighed.  The argument would continue.  They
 sat through
another round, managing to come up with things that
wouldn't make each other too angry and before they
knew it, the third round was upon them and the other
couples had all made dramatic break throughs and one
woman was actually in tears.  Mulder still couldn't
get Scully to look him in the eye.  And somehow, the
honesty of the other couples permeated his mind and
truthful words slipped out.  "Dana, you mean the world
to me and I want to get past our problems and be with
you."  He ran his thumb over her fingers, driving his
point home.

 She tried to pull her hands back, but he wouldn't let
 her.  If he
was going to be honest, or give a damn good impression
of it, she would too.  But she was going to play the
game her way.  "Fox, I love you and I think you're
unbelievably sexy when you wear your glasses."  She
smirked and play passed to the couple on their left,
leaving a blushing Mulder behind.

 When it was Tanya and Daniel's turn again, they
 explained that
each couple should continue, speaking quietly to each
other, giving them to opportunity to talk about
private things.  Scully actually felt let down that
she couldn't embarrass Mulder again, but she figured
she'd get the chance again.  A quiet noise filled the
room and Tanya and Daniel began to circle.  

 "Marvelous, they're going to make sure we're
 discussing intimate
secrets."  Mulder let go of Scully's hand and ran it
through his hair, wishing desperately for a TV, a
remote control, and a sport of any kind. He felt a
man's hand grab his, and redeposit it on Scully's. 
Daniel looked at him reproachfully, but spared him the
lecture.

 Tanya walked over then and squatted next to Mulder's
 chair.  "I'm
sure you can think of something, Fox."

 Sadly, the only thing he could think of was how much
 he hated to
be called Fox.  He shrugged helplessly and Tanya faced
Dana.  "How about you?  Julie did share what Fox said
earlier and I know that must have hurt you.  How about
sharing that?"

 Scully glanced at Tanya.  "Dear, I think you just did
 that for
me."  Tanya's eternally happy mask slipped and she
stared at Scully, somehow the staff had not been
trained to deal with sarcasm.  It was exactly what was
needed to rid them of Tanya.  But Daniel hovered over
them after that, tormenting them as a punishment for
hurting delicate little Tanya.

 Mulder groaned unhappily and laced his fingers
 through Scully's.
They wanted honesty and they were going to get it. 
"Dana, I love you and I wish you try to have a good
time and not be miserable."

 Scully's blank stare faded and her mouth turned down
 at the
corners.  "Fox, I love you and you're making me
miserable."  Daniel patted her shoulder, apparently
glad to see another fight threatening.

 Mulder was not dissuaded.  His words were affecting
 her.  He could
tell by the way her answers were swinging from one end
of the spectrum to the other.  He checked his watch. 
It was three minutes of nine and he was sure the
session wouldn't reach past nine.  Time to pull out
all the stops.  He took a moment to twist their hands,
delighting in the feel of her tiny hands in his,
amazed by the way his heart flipped over in his chest
by a mere glance at the wedding ring.  It wasn't just
another prop from the FBI.  It was a family heirloom,
his great-grandmother's, grandmother's and mother's
wedding band and he couldn't vocalize how it made him
feel to see it gleaming happily on Scully's finger. 
He pulled her hands into his lap, resting them on his
thighs, forcing Scully to lean much closer to him.  He
leaned forward too, their knees met, and their faces
hovered inches apart.

 "Dana, I love you more than anything in the world and
 I want to
make love to you right now."  His gaze was locked with
Scully's, so Daniel's astonished face went unnoticed. 
Scully's disbelieving stare was received with a wide
smile.  Feeling bold and confident, he lifted each
hand to his lips in turn, kissing first the back and
then her palms.

 After a moment, Scully found her voice.  She knew
 time was running
out for this little party and she was determined to
have the last word. She waited until she heard Tanya
take a deep breath, preparing for her closing remarks,
and then she leaned forward, whispering directly in
his ear.  Both of them knew no one else would overhear
her words.

 "I love you, Fox."

 Scully turned then, facing Tanya with feigned rapt
 attention,
separating their hands and crossing her legs.  To
anyone else, she looked like she was ignoring Mulder
completely.  But he knew better.  He knew she was
intently focused on him and his reaction to her words.
 Words he desperately hoped weren't just to throw him
for a loop.  

 He listened to Tanya and Daniel with one ear, missing
 the reason
why all heads turned and smiled at him and Scully
before he heard applause.  He could see Scully looking
around and knew she had no idea either.  Maybe Daniel
had shared Mulder's last statement with them.  He
didn't really care.  He had other things on his mind. 
Sitting forward in his chair, which was still facing
Scully even though she wasn't facing him, he pulled
her hair back from her neck and planted a kiss behind
her ear, pausing just long enough to gently take her
earlobe between his teeth and tug.  He was glad she
wasn't wearing earrings for once, because he would
have missed the way her legs uncrossed and her arms
fell to her sides with the unexpected assault on her
senses.  Smiling, he inhaled taking in the luxurious
scent of her strawberry shampoo and her perfume, and
then he stood up, taking her hand and walking out,
leaving the room to stare after them in unadulterated
jealousy.

end of part four.  send comments.  jzyvarek@udel.edu,
eponine119@att.net

Disclaimer in part one. If you're missing parts, visit
http://members.aol.com/shippergrl/truth.txt

The Truth
part 5
by eponine119  & Jessica Zyvarek Taylor
eponine119@att.net, jzyvarek@udel.edu

 Mulder clasped her hand in his and held her close as
 they headed out
into the hallway.  He turned and bent down to nuzzle
her neck as they walked, which made it hard for her to
concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.
 Mulder's problem was that he was hunched over more
than twelve inches to place his lips against her neck.
 These two together led to them practically staggering
together in the direction of their cabin.
 With every step, Scully grew more anxious.  They'd
 put on a good
show at the Positive Criticism session.  She'd gotten
enormous satisfaction out of the way they'd shown up
all the other whining couples and walked out of there,
with every eye in the room fixed on them, and she knew
that Mulder had planned it that way. But the fact that
she didn't know what was going to happen when they
reached their room with its one bed made her very,
very nervous.  They were just pretending, weren't
they?  Even though she hadn't really felt like she was
lying when she'd said, "Fox, I love you."  But she
hadn't felt like herself, either. She would never say
such a thing. Fox was not someone she knew.  Mulder
was someone she knew.  Or did she? She tried to look
at him but it was pretty awkward with his mouth
attached to her neck.
 Which he was only doing to keep up appearances,
 right? she thought. 
She wished she could claim that she had been
pretending when he had taken her earlobe between his
teeth in the session.  But the electricity that had
shot through her had not been faked.  The sensation in
her stomach that she'd always before identified as
love couldn't be ignored. The things he did to her
when he touched her, even now...
 "Mulder, stop," she said, and jerked her head away
 from him as she
withdrew her hand from his grip.  He looked confused,
looking at her with dark, hurt eyes and a puppyish
tilt to his head.  After a moment, she realized he had
a terrible crick in his neck.  Serves him right for
being so tall, she thought with a smirk she couldn't
suppress.  "I can't - I need a moment to think," she
said.  Her brain was still addled from all the
physical activity.
 To her surprise, he nodded.  "Okay," he said evenly. 
 He didn't look
angry at all. His eyes had taken on that luminous
quality and he was being the sweetest man on earth. 
Scully tried to remember the last time she'd seen
Mulder acting so wonderfully.  A long time was the
best answer she could come up with.  "I'll meet you in
our cabin in ten minutes."
 She nodded, unable to find even the word "yes" in her
 vocabulary. She
was shocked.  Absolutely shocked.  He'd just given up
and walked away. Which was what she had wanted, but
the fact that he had given in so easily...that had to
back up her theory that stopping was the right thing,
because they were just pretending.  Right?
 Scully watched Mulder walk away.  He was taking the
 long way to
their cabin.  Considerate of him to let her take the
short path, so she would have a few minutes to think
before he arrived.  Mulder being considerate was
suspicious, she thought.  He hadn't been replaced by a
green goo blooded morphing clone, had he?  She quickly
shelved the idea.  A clone wouldn't be able to affect
her the way that he did.  As her eyes returned to his
retreating form, she also knew for certain that it was
really Mulder. No clone could reproduce an ass as cute
as his was.  She watched him walk away for several
more moments, until she realized that her face was
flushed and she was feeling very warm.  Tearing
herself away, she returned to their cabin.
 Mulder was having no such doubts.  He knew that
 Scully was
pragmatic and careful.  Which was why he was walking
straight to the onboard drugstore to buy a box of
strong latex condoms.  Because he was certain that
when he opened the door to their cabin, she would be
waiting for him and they would make love.  He had been
serious when he said that the only thing he wanted to
do was make love to her.  He was equally certain that
she had been serious when she had said in that low
tone that she loved him. He had been looking into her
eyes and the look in them had given him goosebumps on
his arms.  She had meant it. This was real.   They
were finally, finally connecting.
 He paid the inflated price at the drugstore without
 comment and
ignored the leer from the clerk.  Mulder just hoped he
hadn't forgotten to pack anything else he needed. 
They'd probably charge him five dollars for a
toothbrush, since he couldn't exactly get off the ship
to go to the local discount store, could he?
 Relaxed and confident and feeling excited about the
 coming change in
his relationship with Scully, Mulder ambled back to
the cabin, taking his own sweet time.  Anticipation
could be a great thing.  His mind was spinning all
sorts of delicious fantasies, the kind he'd rarely
allowed himself to indulge in up to this point because
hadn't known if he would ever get his wish. And his
sincerest wish was to be with Scully, mind body and
soul.  He respected her. He'd waited long enough. 
He'd brought them onto this cruise because he wanted
something to happen.  Now it was finally going to.
 He wondered, as he walked, whether she would be
 waiting for him to
come to her. Would she have turned off the lights, or
lit candles?  Would she be wearing a nightgown or
nothing at all? Or would she have waited for him to
undress her?  Mulder was glad when he reached the door
that was labeled 47-A.  Their cabin.  Theirs. What a
word.  It symbolized their unity.
 He took a deep breath and gathered himself together. 
 Then he opened
the door.
 Scully was sitting in the chair.  The lights were on
 and she was fully
dressed.  She hadn't removed so much as her shoes. 
Her legs were crossed and she was looking out through
the porthole at the darkness of the sea.  At the sound
of the door and his entrance, she turned in his
direction and rose gracefully from the chair.
 The hopeful look on his face bothered her.  Because
 she knew in just a
few seconds, she would be watching it fall with
disappointment. "Mulder, I can't do this," she said. 
"Not now, not here."  His face didn't move, but the
expression in his eyes did.  He felt she'd toyed with
him, and maybe she had. She continued speaking to
stave off the accusations.  "This place - this
situation - it makes it too hard to know what's real. 
I hear myself saying things and I can't even know if I
mean them.  It's so confusing.  I don't want anything
to change based on something that might not be real.
Something that might only turn out to be a passing
dream waiting to wake."  She looked at him, hoping for
understanding that she knew she would be lucky to get.
 She waited for him to curse or yell or call her a
tease, as her first boyfriend had done in the backseat
of his father's car when she'd realized things had
gone too far too fast.  Scully had been called many
things in her life, but "tease" was one of the very
few that had actually hurt.
 Mulder's face was white and tense and he didn't say
 anything.  That
worried her.  Was he about to explode into a rage? 
She didn't know how he would react in this situation. 
Did he feel like she'd manipulated him in some way? 
Had she?  She probably had. "It's okay, Mulder, I'll
go...find somewhere else to spend tonight."  Breaking
their prolonged eye contact with her shame, she put
her head down and took a few steps toward the door
before he stopped her.
 "No. I'll go.  It's all right," he said almost
 woodenly.  Something
crumpled in his clenched fist and when she looked at
him, he didn't appear to be breathing. Was he that
angry? she wondered.  He turned and walked stiffly out
of the room.  The door closed harshly behind him, a
sure sign that he was angry.  Door-slamming was a sign
of frustration.
 "Damn it, Mulder, I'm frustrated too," she whispered
 fiercely.  Couldn't
he see that he meant too much to her for her to risk
this being a lie, or a carefully constructed game of
pretend?  She wanted things to be perfect between
them.  She wanted an experience they could build a
lifetime upon. The thought startled her.  She hadn't
consciously admitted the scope of her feelings before.
 She wanted a life with Mulder.  Oh god, why did that
panic her so much?  Because she had turned him away or
because he had gone?
 Or had he gone because he hadn't wanted her anyway? 
 Had she
overestimated his feelings for her?  Had he been so
eager to give her a few minutes to reconsider for the
very reason that he had been putting on a show, and he
knew that given a little time she would realize it and
do exactly what she'd just done - tell him no?
 "Why don't I understand him?" she groaned to herself
 and began to get
into her pajamas.  She stopped. "Why am I talking to
myself?" she asked herself.  Thankfully, she did not
reply to her own question.
 As she crossed the room again to shut off the light
 before sinking into
the plush double bed, she saw what Mulder had been
clutching in his hand. He'd dropped it onto the table
before he left.  It was a now-mangled brand new box of
condoms.
 He'd actually wanted her.
 She didn't know what to do with that knowledge, so
 she got into bed. 
The sheets weren't at all scratchy or forbidding like
most hotel bedding.  They were softer and warmer than
even her sheets at home. Scully stretched out, sighing
as she repositioned the pillow and then let the thick
comforter settle heavily over her body.  It was
lonely.  She could still feel the phantom touches
Mulder had given her earlier. She could feel his hands
on her body, his teeth on her earlobe, his lips on her
neck.  They made her body ache.  All she could see
when she closed her eyes was his face before he walked
out of the cabin. It made it impossible to close her
eyes.  So she stared at the ceiling in the dark,
listening to the motor of the ship and feeling the
gentle rocking motion as she began to count off
bottles of beer on the wall.
 She was still awake at one-forty-eight, as it read on
 her travel clock. 
Mulder hadn't returned.  She wondered where he could
be.  With every minute that had passed, she grew more
and more worried about him. It was a ship.  A closed
environment. How much trouble could he possibly get
into?
 Deciding she didn't want to think about it any more,
 Scully got out of
bed and dressed quickly. She would find him and bring
him back.  As two adults, they could overcome both
their differences and their misunderstandings. Which
didn't mean she was going to have sex with him, not
when she'd lain awake for more than three hours
worrying about where he was.  It just meant that they
could certainly find a way to cope with the two
people, one bed situation.  They were both smarter
than the average bear. There had to be a way.
 Closing the cabin door behind her, Scully didn't
 realize that sometimes
the intelligence of the average bear is superior to
that of a college educated FBI agent.  The average
bear wouldn't have had any dilemma at all. The average
bear would have shared willingly.  And enjoyed it
immensely.

xxx

 "One more round on me!" Mulder cried.  Then he looked
 around and
realized he and the bartender were the only people
left.  "What do you know?" he slurred, pulling money
out of his wallet.  "Have one on me, buddy," he said
to the bartender.  "And I'll have another scotch on
the rocks."
 "No more for you, pal, you've had enough."
 "What're you going to do, take away my *keys*?" 
 Mulder cried and
burst into giggles.  He laughed for a long time,
hunching over the bar and closing his eyes.  He was so
tired.  And so unhappy. He was only laughing because
he knew that if he didn't, he would cry. He didn't
want his new friend Mr. Bartender to see him cry. That
would be embarrassing.  Almost as embarrassing as
thinking Scully wanted him and finding out she didn't.
 Passing by in the corridor, Scully heard a sound that
 was familiar. It
was a choking, unmirthful laugh that sounded almost
like sobbing.  She knew instantly that it was Mulder. 
She walked into the room and saw that it was a bar,
complete with dim lighting that didn't hide the dingy
decor. It was practically empty.  At the bar, she
recognized the downtrodden slump of Mulder's back.
 "We're closed," called the bartender.
 "We are?" came Mulder's voice.  It made Scully's
 steps hesitate. He
was drunk.  Really drunk.  She'd never seen Mulder
drunk before. Suspected it when she talked to him on
the phone sometimes, yes.  But seen him...no.  She
felt even more worried.
 "I came for him," she said, approaching and gingerly
 putting her arm
around Mulder's shoulders. He shrugged, trying to make
her go away.  It didn't work, and he stopped trying. 
"Come on, Mulder," she said softly and near his ear. 
She felt very sorry suddenly. For him to be this
plastered, she knew she had done something wrong. 
They had both done something wrong.
 "You done a number on him, lady," said the bartender.
 Scully wanted to ask him what he meant, but getting
 Mulder onto his
feet took most of her concentration.  He leaned
heavily against her and she put an arm around his
waist. "Walking, Mulder," she said.  "Yes, like that. 
Come on."  Once she had him in motion, she turned to
the bartender over her shoulder.  "Sorry about this,"
she said.  The bartender shrugged coldly and Scully
knew it was Mulder she should really be apologizing
to. But what was she supposed to say?  Apologizing for
not humoring his sexual wishes when she wasn't ready
was not something Scully was ever going to do for any
man. Even if it was Mulder.
 They reached the elevator that would take them down
 to the level of
their cabin.  Scully pressed the 'down' button and
Mulder began to come around and actually attempt to
rejoin the world of the living and sober. "Scully," he
said.  The way his voice broke over her name touched
her heart. His fingers began to thread their way
gently and clumsily through her hair. "You're really
here."
 "Yes I'm really here," she answered, wondering when
 the damn
elevator would come.  What could be taking it so long?
It wasn't as though there was anyone else up and about
on the ship at this hour. All those unhappy couples
with great sex lives had settled in for the night. 
But this formerly happy couple with no sex life was
all messed up.  "I was worried about you."
 "You were?" He sounded thrilled.  "You don't have to
 worry about me, 
Scully. I'm fine on my own."  The elevator doors slid
open and Mulder pulled away from her to enter via his
own power, to show her that he was okay on his own. 
He stumbled over the elevator threshold and Scully had
to steady him with both hands.  They ended up in a
strange kind of embrace as the doors closed.
 Mulder's head dropped even lower, closer to hers, and
 he inhaled
deeply. "Mulder?" Scully asked, wondering what he was
doing because it seemed that he was sniffing her hair.
 "You smell so good," he murmured, his words so close
 to her skin that
she could feel the heat of his breath. It was igniting
small fires in various areas of her body.  If he would
just lean down another fraction, he would be kissing
her.  The overpowering stench of alcohol that had
clung to him seemed to be dissolving into an almost
sweet, seductive perfume of his own. Mulder was
leaning heavily against her, pressing her into the
wall and there was little she could do to protest even
if she had wanted to as he cradled her face in both
his hands. His eyes were dark and unfocused almost
crossed because his face was so close to hers.
 The elevator doors opened again.  It startled them
 both and they turned
their heads to look.  Beyond the doors was the floor
they had just left.  If, indeed, they had ever left at
all, which Scully realized they hadn't. She had
neglected to press the button indicating their floor
and Mulder certainly hadn't done so.  The elevator,
confused, remained stationary, and opened its doors
again.
 "Press four," Scully said, since Mulder was closer to
 the buttons and
she couldn't move out from under his heavy embrace to
reach.
 "Going down," he said and the words seemed strangely
 significant as
he pressed the button with the 4 on it and it lit up. 
His hands didn't stop there, though, as he also
reached over and pulled out the red button labeled
"Stop." Which the elevator did.
 "Mulder, what are you doing?" Scully asked with a
 heavy warning note
in her voice.
 "You know what I've always wanted to do?" he said and
 he sounded
more intense than drunk now.  One of his hands slipped
under her shirt and found her breast.  She opened her
mouth to protest his taking such familiar liberties
without permission, but all that escaped was a little
squeak of sensual pleasure as he began to knead the
sensitive flesh through the silky fabric of her bra. 
"I've always wanted to do it in an elevator."
 "Mulder, this is crazy," she said as she arched her
 back so he could
give her even more pleasure.  Her head fell back and
her eyes closed.  She felt the fingers of the hand he
wasn't using delicately raise the fabric of her shirt
and then his mouth planted a hot, wet kiss against the
skin of her stomach. "Mulder -"
 His lips moved away and his hands followed.  Leaning
 down, he
pushed his head into her stomach, which didn't feel
nearly so nice.  "Mulder?" She looked down and saw
that he was struggling to unfasten his trousers.  He's
so drunk he can't get his pants unzipped, she thought,
and it was something of a wake up call.  His hand took
hers and tried to get her to help him with his little
problem. "Mulder, no," she said and her tone was so
firm that he froze and looked up at her.  "You're
drunk, and this is an *elevator,*" she explained.
 "So?" he asked.
 "So, an elevator is not an appropriate place to have
 sex," she informed
him.
 "Aerosmith thought it was," he muttered, still
 yanking at his zipper. It
would have been comical if it hadn't been so sad.
 "Mulder, stop it."
 "And it's not sex, Scully," he said in a low voice.
 "It's love."  His voice
sent hot shivers down her spine.  But he pressed the
STOP button back in and the elevator continued its
descent.  Within moments, they were reached the level
of their cabin.  For the split second before the doors
opened, Scully wanted to yank that STOP button back
out and take Mulder.  It would be exciting, primal,
with the small space and fear of discovery to contend
with. But since he was drunk, she also knew it would
be wrong.
 The doors opened and she found herself angry that he
 only
propositioned her when he was drunk.  But then, that
wasn't true, she realized as she led the way to their
room.  He also propositioned her when he was making a
point in public.
 Why was the time and situation never right?
 Why was she too good a person to take advantage of
 his drunken state?
she wondered, opening the door and pushing Mulder
inside ahead of her. Why did these things only happen
to her?  It had to be something she did to herself.
She couldn't think of one person she knew that had
problems like this.
 Mulder flopped face-down onto the bed and began
 snoring instantly. 
Scully, still standing at the door, stared at him,
shocked.  As another soft snore tore from his body,
she began to smile.  He was wasted, she thought. 
Besides, she thought practically as she put her
pajamas back on, drunk men made terrible lovers.  She
curled up in the chair and slept there.

xxx

 Tortured moans roused Scully from sleep only a short
 time later.  She
jolted awake, instantly alert, her heart pounding
because she was certain someone was going to do her
harm.  Or they were already doing harm to Mulder. "I'm
armed!" she called forcefully into the darkness,
reaching for her gun and not finding it.  She got up
from the chair and found herself dreadfully stiff. 
She stumbled to the lightswitch and flipped it.
 She and Mulder were alone in the room. No one was
 hurting him.  He
was moaning and sweating in the bed, though, his face
contorted into terrible pain.  Mulder thrashed on the
mattress, tossing the sheets one way and the covers
another.  He was fighting as though some unseen hand
was attempting to hold him back.
 The moans took on the shape and substance of words. 
 "Samantha," he
cried, his voice plaintive and young sounding.  He
sounded like a fourteen year old boy.  "Samantha, come
back!  Samantha, where are you?"
 His movements only became more worried and
 distressed. Scully
climbed onto the bed with him and he sensed her
presence instantly, not opening his eyes or awakening,
but he knew she was there and detected that she was
the enemy. "You let her go!" he cried, sitting up and
pushing her.  Her hands flew to grab at the covers to
keep herself from falling backwards off the bed.  
 Scully pulled herself up more fully and seized his
 hands. "Mulder," she
said, hoping to wake him up.  "Mulder!"
 He froze and his face changed.  His brow furrowed and
 his mouth
opened.  "Scully," he said.  He was still asleep.  He
still looked like he was seeing something terrible.
 "Mulder," she said again.
 "That's what she said."  He was amazingly coherent
 for a dreamer.  For
a second she thought he would open his eyes. It seemed
as though the nightmare had faded and she had his
attention.  "She needed my help."  Dread began to fill
her and he began to fight her again.  "They took her
away. Where is she, you bastard?  What have you done
to her?  Where is she!"
 "No, Mulder, it's all right, I'm here."  Is this what
 he did when  I was
taken? she wondered.  This is my fault for leaving
him. She knew that Mulder was sensitive to abandonment
issues.  And while that would never lessen the horror
of what had been done to her, while she could not feel
sorry for leaving him until she had revenge on the men
who had hurt her so much more badly, she now realized
he, too, had gone through torture.  Just a different
kind.
 "Leave her alone. Don't touch her, don't do that to
 her."  He was
practically sobbing now.
 "Mulder, come on, wake up.  You don't want to dream
 this. Open your
eyes."
 He didn't. He just descended back into inarticulate
 sounds of horror. 
He began to fight her, but she held his arms,
crooning, "I'm here, I'm safe, you're safe, Mulder. 
No one can hurt us."  She stroked back his sweaty hair
and finally he stilled and lay back on the bed. 
Scully remained sitting next to him for a long time,
waiting to see if the nightmare recurred.  It didn't. 
She wondered if he would remember it in the morning,
if he would remember any of it.  What would he think
if he woke up and remembered trying to seduce her in
the elevator - and that she'd rejected him again - and
that she'd witnessed his nightmare fears about losing
her?
 Maybe, she thought, returning to her chair, she
 should just go jump
overboard now and spare them both the embarrassment
that the morning was going to bring.

xxx

 Coffee...and bacon. She smelled them before she was
 even awake.  In
the muddle of her dream, she wondered why Skinner was
suddenly wearing a chef's hat and serving her and
Mulder breakfast when only moments before he had been
yelling at them about a criminal's right to life,
liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
 "Wake up, sleepyhead."  A soft touch against her
 cheek made her jump
and her eyes opened.  Scully found herself face to
face with a strange creature with a thick protective
coating over its sight organs.  She blinked and drew
back and managed to focus. It was Mulder. For some
reason, he was wearing his glasses and hovering over
her.  She blinked again and shifted into more of an
upright sitting position.
 "Was I drooling?" she asked, hoping for a joke, even
 though she wasn't
entirely kidding. Now that she was awake, she could
smell the coffee and bacon more strongly and her
stomach clenched, reminding her that her dinner the
night before had been a glass of water.  Mulder merely
grinning and placed a steaming plate of food within
her reach.  She accepted it, almost burning her
fingers as she began to eat.
 When all of the bacon and egss were gone and only one
 link of
sausage remained, Scully looked up and found that he
was watching her eat. "What?" she asked.
 He nodded and she looked down.  The top button of her
 pjs had come
undone in the night. He wasn't watching her eat, he
was looking at her chest. She shot him a look and
fastened the button, smearing grease on the cloth.
Then she realized she was wearing pink pajamas in
front of her partner and somehow felt embarrassed for
wearing such a girly color.  "How do you feel this
morning?" she asked carefully, searching his face for
any sign of remembering his escapade.
 "Great," he said.  She gaped at him in amazement.  He
 wasn't even
hung over.  Mulder was a medical miracle, given the
things he survived without permanent damage, she
thought.  "How'd you sleep?"
 She realized that the sun was streaming into the
 cabin through the tiny
window. "What time is it?" she cried, setting the
plate aside and jumping up from the chair.
 "Almost ten," he answered, grinning like the Cheshire
 cat. "Ten!" she cried. She gathered some clothes and
 looked around for a
place where she could change where he wouldn't be able
to see her. Not that he hadn't been staring at most of
her charms through her unbuttoned pj top for god knows
how long.  A flicker of doubt as to how the button had
come undone shot through her mind, but burned out just
as quickly. He knew she would kill him.  Of course, he
had also felt most of her charms the night before in
the elevator. She cast him a skittish look, still
wondering if he remembered.
 She wished he would take off his glasses because she
 wanted to forget
about dressing and stare at him all damn day.  "The
bathroom," Mulder said.
 "Wha?" she asked. Great, now she wasn't even speaking
 in complete
words.  Her brain had gone to mush. She hadn't felt
like this since she was a teenager.  She'd passed
frustrated and crossed over right smack into the
middle of horny, she thought, and that was not a good
place to be, considering their situation.
 "You can change. In the bathroom."  He was smirking
 at her
confusion.
 "Oh. Right."
 "Are you like this every morning?" he asked as she
 turned to go into
the small room.
 She turned back.  "Like what?"
 Beautiful. Rumpled.  Intensely kissable.  This is
 what Mulder was
thinking in answer to Scully's question.  Sexy as
hell.  But he said, "Confused."
 The slow grin that spread across her face turned his
 stomach inside
out.  "Wouldn't you like to know," she said saucily
and it was almost an invitation.  Right before she
slipped into the bathroom and he heard the door lock. 
He began to pace the room.  When he thought he heard
her laughing, he turned and looked at the door.  He
was about to ask, "Scully, are you okay?" when she
emerged.
 She looked like Scully again.  She was wearing long
 pants and another
of her under-jacket shirts.  Her bare feet had been
covered with nylons and high heels.  Her hair had been
combed and lipstick coated those once-kissable lips
forbiddingly. She was still smiling at him.  She
walked directly to him, standing so close that he
couldn't even think to ask her what she was doing.
 She reached up slowly and pulled his glasses from his
 face.  Just the
way you would remove someone's glasses before giving
them an intensely passionate seductive kiss.  But then
she stepped back and placed the eyewear on the table.
 "Scully, what are you doing?"
 She took his hand and pulled him out of the cabin,
 closing the door
firmly behind them.  While she was dressing, she'd
realized why he was wearing his glasses. It was
because she had said that he looked incredibly sexy
wearing them.  Which was why she didn't want him to be
wearing them, even though the fact that she'd made
that confession had led him to wear them made her feel
incredibly powerful. He wanted to be sexy for her. 
Was this how men felt when women put on fuck-me tight
skirts and tops?  If so, why weren't there more men
telling women to go put some more clothes on and quit
tempting them?
 "Scully, I can't see anything," Mulder complained as
 she dragged him
up to the conference room to begin day two of their
therapeutic cruise.

end of part five.  Send comments! eponine119@att.net,
jzyvarek@udel.edu

Disclaimer in part one. If you're missing parts, visit
http://members.aol.com/shippergrl/truth.txt

Truth
Part 6
by Jessica Zyvarek Taylor & eponine119 
jzyvarek@udel.edu, eponine119@att.net


 They barely got out the door when Julie and Matt
 blocked their
way.  "OK, you guys have got a big choice to make." 
She cocked her head to the side and squinted at them
for a moment.  "I hear you had a great time in our
positive criticism session.  Congrats."  Mulder and
Scully nodded uncomfortably, not wanting to think
about how their wonderful experience had backfired. 
"Anyway, as I was saying..."

 Matt arrived and took over.  Scully fought to keep
 the smile from
developing into a cackle.  "You've got two choices
since you never turned in your schedule cards."  Julie
did her best disapproving face and Matt clicked his
tongue in a rather condescending matter.  "OK, so your
choices are one of your two mandatory couple
counseling sessions"  Mulder and Scully looked at each
other and then back at Matt hopefully, praying the
other choice was more acceptable.  "Or you can attend
another one of our group sessions."

 "Group session."  Their voices came out in unison,
 causing both
Julie and Matt to laugh.

 Julie grabbed Scully's hand.  "I'm so glad it's
 starting to work
already."

 Matt slung an arm around Mulder and he groaned.  So
 far, 'at least
three feet of personal space on all sides' Scully had
been the recipient of the invasive touches.  Now it
was his turn.  He shrugged Matt's arm off, but it
immediately returned.  Mulder was not about to bond
with anybody who was eternally happy.  He saw no way
around Matt's arm, so he tried his favorite old trick.
 He looked over and caught Matt's eye and then winked.
 Almost a millisecond later, Matt's arm dropped to his
side. Mulder smiled for real.  One problem down, a
million to go.

 They entered the room where Touch Therapy had been
 held.  Still no
chairs, but lights had been turned on and there was no
fire.  Scully smiled too, assuming that it couldn't be
too intimate if there were fluorescent lights
involved.  And for once, they weren't the last couple
to join the party.  Julie led them over to two free
cushions and instructed them to sit down.

 "Mulder, am I being overly optimistic in my hope that
 they aren't
going to make us sit on beanbag chairs?"  Mulder
grinned.  "Did Julie slip you some of her happy pills,
Mulder?"  He grinned harder.  She didn't get it. He
was in too good a mood.  She reached the conclusion
that he did remember the entire night before and that
he was pretending he didn't. Probably just to see how
she would react.  And she also had a very strong
feeling that her pajama button hadn't undone itself.

 Matt handed out small tablets and pencils to everyone
 while Julie
belted out instructions.  A few more couples arrived,
each drug in by the happiness police assigned as
scouts.  Mulder smiled when he saw another couple
practically shoved into the room.  They wore the
expressions that he and Scully must have worn when
they were abducted and forced to socialize.

 "Now that everyone has joined us, we can begin.  But
 before we do,
we want to establish one rule for this session. 
Couples are not permitted to touch."  Mulder and
Scully, and the other couples, looked confused. "We
want you to perform this exercise without holding
hands or kissing or touching in any way."

 Julie went back to smiling and Matt continued.  "Each
 one of you
has a notebook and a pencil.  We'd like you to started
by making a list. You can have as many things on it as
you like, but there must be at least ten.  Write down
all the things that you look for in a potential lover.
You can write anything you like,  the list will remain
secret.  When you're done, just put your pencils down
and wait for the rest of the group to finish.  Any
questions?"

 "Yeah, can we opt for the personal counseling
 instead?"  Mulder's
quiet mutter was unheard by all but Scully.

 Everyone began writing, pausing after a few moments
 to stare off
into space and think.  Scully looked at her pencil. 
It was a Faber Castell #2.  Her page remained
painfully blank.  She knew she'd been promised
secrecy, but this was an intimate retreat.  She knew
Mulder was going to see it.  She made a decision and
put down her pencil.  She knew what Mulder was
writing: big breasts, long legs, long curly brown
hair, IQ of ten or below.  She wasn't about to let him
mortify her.  Not again.

 A few moments later, everyone's eyes turned
 expectantly toward
Julie who was sitting primly, however that was managed
on a dislodged couch cushion, studying her nails. 
Deciding that they were ready, she addressed the
group.  "Now, on the next page write down anything
that annoys you about a potential lover."

 Mulder thought of one word: Julie.  Her attention had
 become
refocused on her hair, examining for split ends.  He
added another name to the list: Sarah.  He glanced at
Scully, who had given up her conscientious objection
to the session and was scribbling away furiously.  He
wondered what she was doing.  Then he wrote one last
thing on his list and placed his tools on the floor.  

 Several minutes later, Matt cleared his throat and
 Scully looked
up from her opus.  Everyone else was long done and she
wasn't halfway through.  She closed the tablet and
smiled sheepishly.  "OK, everyone we have one more
list for you to make.  Write down all the things about
your partner that you would change if you could." 
Scully looked confused. Hadn't she just written that? 
She shrugged to herself and continued with her list,
and finished the other half of the first one instead.

 After a few more minutes, Matt continued his speech,
 while Julie
collected all the pencils.  "Now that you've written
everything down, please exchange books with your
partner."

 Scully's jaw dropped open, as did Mulder's.  They'd
 known this was
coming, but they still weren't prepared to relinquish
their books.  Before they had the chance to argue,
Julie and Matt swapped their books.  "Sorry guys,
gotta play by the rules if you want to see that
Justice of the Peace."  Mulder couldn't help but
wonder why this place reminded him of a prison.

 Scully folded her arms across her chest and glared at
 Mulder.  He
averted his eyes.  It was a conspiracy and he was
beginning to think that Scully was in on it, to crush
what shreds of his ego were left.  He remembered his
utter disappointment from the night before and heading
to the bar.  He didn't remember anything else before
the morning when he'd woken up to see Scully curled
adorably in the chair, one of her buttons undone and
offering him an excellent view of what he'd been
denied the night before.  He'd seen the accusation in
her eyes when she noticed it, but she hadn't said
anything.  She'd been in a good mood.  And then once
they joined the session, she'd closed herself off
again.  He was about to be cut down to size, unless
she'd revealed as many secrets as he had in the lists.
 He hoped he'd underestimated the power of prayer.

 "Now that everyone has your partner's book, read over
 their lists
and talk about anything that bothers you."  

 Happy Julie piped up.  "Or anything that makes you
 happy."

 Cringing, Scully opened Mulder's book.  She flipped
 the pages,
making sure the first list was the one about
characteristics he liked. Then she wanted to cry.  Or
a time machine.  A time machine would do much more
good for her.  Mulder's list was brief and simple,
falling short of the minimum of ten things.  Way
short.  There was only one thing on it: Scully.  

 She wanted to rip her lists back out of Mulder's
 hands before he
had the chance to read them, but it was too late.  He
was completely engrossed in her words.  She turned the
page and read his second list. Things about lovers
that annoyed him.  Julie, Scully laughed, Sarah,
Scully suppressed a snort, and Anyone who isn't
Scully, her laughter ceased instantly.  He was either
hell-bent on seducing her or he had been honest when
he said he loved her.  He'd written Scully, not Dana,
so she knew it had been directed at her and not for
the approval of the cruise staff.  She had no idea
what to say.  She turned the page and read his last
list, another one item list that spoke volumes.  What
would he change about her? Take her off this cruise
from hell to somewhere that made her happy and keep
her safe.

 All the color drained out of her face as she laid the
 notebook
back on the floor.  She'd screwed this up royally.  If
he ever spoke to her again, she was going to force him
to work out some kind of system so they would know
when the other was being serious and open and
completely honest and when they wanted to act like an
ass so she could prevent further occurrences of them
taking completely opposite sides.  Something that
would prevent to total and utter guilt and self
loathing she was experiencing.  She had some
explaining to do, so long as he was willing to listen.

 One of the other couples in the room joined hands and
 Julie
immediately jumped on them.  "Rule Number One:  No
touching.  You'll have to wait till the session is
over."

 Mulder didn't even look up.  He was mesmerized by how
 Scully had
managed to write so many cruel things so quickly.  And
how she'd been able to work with him for so long. 
Everything that had happened the night before must
have been an act and he was almost glad they hadn't
slept together.  He could only imagine how used he
would have felt.  It was the last item on her list,
though, that he didn't understand at first, but
finally realized might have something to do with her
mood.  Her writing was sloppy, she had been hurrying,
but he could still easily make out the words:  The one
thing I hate the most about my obnoxious, pigheaded,
stubborn partner is when I'm attempting to drag his
sorry drunken ass back to our cabin and he accosts me
in an elevator and expects sexual favors.

 At least he finally knew both why his stomach hurt
 and why he'd
allowed her to sleep in the chair while he got the
bed.  He was just amazed that all his limbs were still
intact.  He glanced up, embarrassed that he'd written
such open and honest things about her, knowing that
her words had been just as open and honest, and
wondering what her reaction could possibly be.  She
was staring back at him, but she looked away quickly. 


 "OK, everybody now the moment you've all been eagerly
anticipating!"  Julie's exuberance was sadly not
contagious.  "Reach out and touch your partner!"  Matt
felt the need to demonstrate, wrapping his arms around
a smiling, giddy Julie and hugging her tightly.  The
other couples followed suit.  Mulder stared at a spot
on the floor and tried to fight the wave of nausea
that swept over him.  Scully stood up and walked away,
calmly but quickly.  She needed air.  Mulder needed a
hug.

 Almost two hours later, Scully had gotten her fair
 share of fresh
air and was sick of having to make polite small talk
with other couples. She was also worried about Mulder.
 She'd hurt his feelings again.  She tried the cabin
first, and when she didn't find him, she searched the
decks.  He was nowhere to be found and she was
worried.  She bumped into Tanya, who regardless of
Scully's infraction on her psyche the previous night,
offered her help.  Scully nodded and headed back to
where she'd left him.

 He was still sitting there, in the same spot, and
 Scully could
swear he hadn't moved a muscle since she'd walked out.
 She closed the door behind her, throwing the lock
because of the staff's uncanny ability to interrupt
them in private moments.  Mulder didn't look up.  His
eyes were still fixed on the imaginary spot on the
floor and as long as he continued to stare at it, he
could continue to breathe.  His complete focus on the
spot gave his mind something to think about other than
the crushing blow Scully had just delivered.

 She crossed the room and sat down on the cushion in
 front of him,
hoping that he'd look up.  He didn't.  She gave him a
moment, thinking he might eventually react, but when
it became clear that he would not, she tried another
tactic.  He wasn't ignoring her; he simply hadn't
noticed her yet.  She scooted around behind him and
placed her hands on his shoulders, copying the
movements she'd used in touch therapy.  His head
snapped up instantly, but he didn't say anything.  He
didn't move either, letting her massage and knead the
muscles in his back in a loving and possessive manner.
 His eyes slid closed and his head fell forward.

 Her gentle massage continued for a while before she
 carefully
moved closer, running her hands down his arms and then
sliding them around his waist.  She leaned toward him
and pressed her face into his back, holding him as
tightly as she could.

 "I'm sorry, Mulder.  You have to know I didn't mean
 that.  I was
angry."  Her face didn't move from his back.  She felt
his hands cover hers and she thought he was trying to
hold them.  But it became clear that he was just
trying to unwrap her from him.  She held on tighter,
inching forward on her knees so her legs rested on
either side of him.  If touching was the only way they
were honest with each other, then she'd attach herself
to him.

 "Leave me alone, Scully."  His tone was low and held
 an unspoken
warning.  He was terribly hurt.  He'd trusted her and
when his trust was violated, he was liable to become
violent.  He didn't want to hurt her.  He needed her
to leave until he got a better grip on his temper.

 She was not deterred.  "I was wrong, Mulder.  I admit
 it.  I'm
sorry."

 "When you're telling the truth, there's no right or
 wrong
answers."  He renewed his efforts to free himself from
her embrace.

 Seeing that he was determined, she let go, watching
 forlornly as
he moved forward so there was no body contact.  Then
he went back to staring off into space with his jaw
tightly clenched.  "But a lie is always wrong,
Mulder."

 He looked back at her, meeting her eyes for a long
 moment.  "Yeah,
yeah it is.  So is lying."

 Ashamed, she looked down.  She'd been trying to hurt
 him and she'd
succeeded a little too well.  And now he wasn't going
to forgive her. "I'm not trying to defend my lying to
you, I know it was wrong.  But you hurt me last night,
Mulder.  You got drunk and you"

 "Accosted you in an elevator and demanded sexual
 favors?"  His icy
tone cut her off.  

 "You did push me up against a wall and try to take my
 shirt off."
She started to feel even more guilty.  He'd gotten
drunk and come on to her and she was reprimanding him
for something he didn't remember doing.

 "I was drunk, Scully.  I don't even remember it."  He
 began
picking at another invisible spot on the floor,
something to keep him from having to look at her.

 "Drunk drivers are held accountable for their
 actions, Mulder."

 He sighed, giving her the impression that he was
 very, very bored.
"I'm not drunk now, Scully."  He glanced at her and
continued once she nodded in agreement.  "And the only
thing I want from you now is for you to leave."

 She felt her chin tremble slightly and cursed the
 traitorous
muscles.  "Is that so?"

 "Yeah, that's so."  

 She reached out for him, refusing to let him push her
 away.  She
grabbed hold of his arm and didn't let him shake her
off.  "I'm not leaving you, Mulder.  So get used to
it."

 He glared at the hand attached to him and then at her
 face.  "I
can make you leave."

 "Oh, yeah, how?"  Short of prying her fingers off
 with a crowbar,
she wasn't going to budge.

 "Maybe I'll get drunk and slobber on you.  Then you'd
 want to go
take a shower."  She didn't let go.

 He decided to try a different attempt.  He stood up,
 pulling her a
good two feet before she finally got her feet
underneath of her and was able to stand up.  But she
wasn't a quitter and her hand remained fastened to his
arm.  He wanted to admire her tenacity, but he was
trying to hate her.  He growled in frustration.  She
wouldn't let him love her and she wouldn't let him
hate her and she wouldn't let him be her friend. 
Anger coursed through his veins, giving him the
adrenaline rush to rip her hand away from him and push
her up against the nearest wall.  He was furious,
wanting to find something that wasn't alive on which
to take out his anger, and she was absolutely
gorgeous.  His face inched closer to hers. She was
afraid of this rage, of the irate man pinning her
against the wall, but his lips were getting closer to
hers and she desperately wanted him to hurry up and
kiss her.

 Fate cackled maniacally as Julie pushed open the
 door.  "Only
staff is allowed to lock doors!  Now come on, Daniel
has a great session and he's waiting for you two."

 The shock released the rest of his anger and Mulder
 backed away
from Scully.  Embarrassed at his violent aggression
and that even after learning how she really felt about
him, he still wanted to kiss her.  He had tried to
kiss her.  He hung his head and followed the two women
to his next torture session, wondering if Scully was
going to have the police waiting on the island when
they arrived or if she was going to just throw him
overboard.

End of part six.  Please send comments. 
jzyvarek@udel.edu, eponine119@att.net

Disclaimer in part one.  If you're missing parts,
visit http://members.aol.com/shippergrl/truth.txt

The Truth
part 7
by eponine119  & Jessica Zyvarek Taylor
eponine119@att.net, jzyvarek@udel.edu

 They walked into Daniel's "great session" together. 
 It already seemed
to be in progress and people were screaming at each
other like they were on the Jerry Springer show. 
Scully cringed and Mulder took a step back.  They were
doing bad enough, they didn't need this. 
 Daniel looked at them sharply.  "You can't be here,"
 he told them. "What?" asked Scully, not sure why she
 was suddenly ready to fight
for her right to fight.
 "You haven't done your mandatory couples' counseling
 yet.  This slot
has to be filled with that if it hasn't been already,"
Daniel explained. "I think Theresa is free, go and see
her."  He looked away, dismissing them just in time to
remove the chair from the hands of a red-faced woman
who was brandishing it at her wheelchair-bound mate. 
Scully stared a moment, horrified, until she felt
Mulder leave her side.  If she didn't accompany him,
she knew, she would lose him. She'd promised not to
leave him, and she wouldn't.
 Theresa was sitting in a tiny office as though she
 was waiting for
them.  "Hello," she greeted them at the door, shaking
their hands and looking at their unhappy faces. 
"Please, be seated and get comfortable."  They did, in
opposite corners, without looking at each other.  "I'm
here to act as a moderator. If you become stuck, I can
help you get over it.  But I want you to forget that
I'm here and talk honestly to each other about your
problems. Don't worry about me judging you at all. 
I'll give suggestions at the end of the session."
 "This is such crap," Mulder said, but he didn't get
 up and storm out. He
remained sitting in his chair as though restrained. 
Theresa didn't respond to his accusation, so he pushed
harder. "We could talk on our own and get a hell of a
lot farther and wouldn't have to censor ourselves."
 "You don't have to censor yourself here," Theresa
 offered. Mulder shook his head. Scully understood. 
 They didn't trust anyone
on the outside.  And now, if they didn't trust each
other, what was going to happen to them?  The silence
became deafening and Scully thought back to what she
had done, the way she had written those hurtful things
even knowing that he would see them.  She thought back
to his roughly shoving her up against the wall.
 "What has happened between us?" Scully said softly. 
 She couldn't
raise her voice or it would break into tears.  She
didn't want this to be happening.  She remembered what
he had written in his notebook and it was what she
wanted too, to get off this ship from hell so
everything would be all right.  She looked at Mulder,
almost pleadingly, but he didn't respond.  "What
happened just now?"
 "You mean when I -"
 "What were you doing, Mulder?" she asked.  It had
 scared her.  His
violence, the rage she knew he carried just under the
still surface, it was frightening when it was focused
on her.  But it was exciting.
 "You liked it," he accused in a sneering drawl.
 She looked at the floor.  Silence dawned and
 stretched on and on. She
couldn't say the next thing.  It would hurt him too
much.  Finally, Theresa stepped in.  "Perhaps it would
help, to discuss your feelings, if you addressed each
other and began each statement with 'I feel.'"
 Scully took a deep breath.  She still didn't look at
 Mulder, but he knew
she was talking to him.  "I felt afraid of you when
you did that, Mulder.  I felt, for a second, like you
were going to...hurt me."
 "You liked that," he said. "I saw it in your eyes.
 Violence excites you." 
He turned and looked at her and she knew he could see
the shock on her face. "If I'd taken you last night
when you said no, would that have been what you
wanted?"
 "No," she said, a tortured sound.  
 "That's why you work so hard to hurt me.  You like
 pain. You like to
feel it and you like to inflict it."
 "No!"  she cried, and this time she faced him.  "I'm
 so sorry that I hurt
you, Mulder.  I never intended for you to see what I
wrote."
 "You knew what they were going to do."
 "I was venting, I didn't mean it, Mulder, you know
 that I didn't mean
it."
 "But you did."
 Another impasse.  Scully looked at Theresa, wondering
 why she wasn't
intervening. Not that Mulder had taken her "I feel"
advice anyway.  The woman looked like she was out of
her element.  She looked like she thought Scully and
Mulder were some kind of weird S&M duo and there was
nothing she could do to help them, so she'd given up. 
She even looked faintly embarrassed.  Scully knew she
was going to have to do this herself.
 "Ten things I look for in a potential lover," Scully
 said, invoking the
game from the prior session, the one that had
snowballed this mess past repair.  This was
embarrassing.  She'd never confessed her intimate
preferences to anyone before.  Not even to
girlfriends, not even to her sister. What she valued
to was too important to her.  But she had to tell
Mulder. Especially now that he'd called her
preferences into question.  "One. Passion. That glows
in his eyes and radiates from his body in pure energy
and heat. Passion so strong that he can't turn away
from it, doesn't care what people say or think or try
to do to change his mind.  Two. An unwillingness to
yield. Like the strongest tree, his will cannot be
bent. He is always true to himself and what he
believes. He does not give up.  Three.  Sensitivity. 
He is aware of the people around him.  He is aware of
what they think and what they feel. He can't control
it, but he feels it, and even though this sometimes
hurts him, he is powerless to shut it out or close
himself off to it.  Four. Tenderness. I can feel it in
his touch.  His fingers are so gentle against my skin.
 And yet he has to touch me.  Five.  Humor. The
ability to look into the face of any situation and
have a sarcastic, biting, completely goofy, stupid,
inappropriate remark to make.  One that makes me know
that he thinks the world of himself and his opinion.
The sensitivity is what makes him cringe when I don't
laugh.  It also makes him know that I'm amused even
when I don't laugh.  Six.  An amazing physical
presence. I can't ignore him when he's in the room.  I
can feel his heat from across the room. I have to look
at him, risking being caught by his eyes. Seven. 
Intensity. The feeling I get in my stomach when he
looks at me.  The feeling I get when I stare at him
and I think about what could happen.  The way the
hairs rise on my arms when I imagine what kissing him
will be like. And I know that fifty years from now
when we are both shriveled and old, those lips will
still make my blood sing.  Eight.  Integrity.  Nine.
Honor. Ten. Honesty."  Her voice rose with every word.
 She did not falter or lose count or search for even
one word.  The words poured from her heart as surely
as blood would flow if she opened a vein for him.
 "I hope you find him, Scully," Mulder said quietly.
 "I have," she said, looking directly into his eyes.
 He shook his head and looked away, unimpressed. He
 didn't think she
was idly flattering him because he did not believe
that he fit that description. He believed he was
unlovable.  Which meant he would believe that he
matched every word of what she was about to say as she
continued.
 "Ten things that annoy me about a potential lover. 
 One. Insensitivity. 
He doesn't care about my feelings. If I want to watch
'National Geographic' but the Superbowl is on, there's
no point in my even asking, no matter how much it
means to me.  Two.  Ego.  A fuck-you-I'm-right
attitude when there is no reason for it.  He always
leaves the toilet seat up."  Theresa half-giggled.
Scully ignored her. "Three. Weakness.  If I shove him,
he falls down and he is too afraid to get up and shove
me back. Four. Ignorance.  The unwillingness to learn.
Five. Dominance.  If he needs to own me, tell me what
to do, it isn't going to work.  Six.  Foolishness.  He
grins all the time.  He laughs for no reason. I want
to slap him. Seven.  Ugliness. Of his soul.  He hates,
and this is why he is hated.  Eight. Faithlessness. In
himself and the world around him. Nine. Selfishness. 
He is the only person in the world.  Ten.
Inconsideration and disrespect.  He will leave without
telling me where he's going because he doesn't even
think he should tell me.  He knows that I'll worry and
he walks away anyway."
 Mulder was looking at the floor.  She wanted to reach
 out and touch
him, but she could not.  So she just kept talking.
"Ten things I would change about my partner if I
could."  There was a long, long pause as she attempted
to think of something. It was also manipulative, as
much as she hated to do it, but she knew if she waited
long enough with nothing to say, he would raise his
head and look at her. At the moment that he did, she
moved.  He began to turn his face away again in
embarrassment, but she stopped him.  Scully jumped off
of her chair and walked over to him, bending down in
front of him, taking his hands in hers.
 "I would give him the power to accept what he can
 never change. I
would absolve him of the guilt that eats him like acid
inside.  I would never let misunderstanding come
between him. I would let him know that I care about
him.  I would make the man who believes in everything
believe in himself and that he is lovable.  I would
make him believe that I would never leave  him.  I
would make him believe that sometimes it is the
differences between us that make us stronger.  I would
give us both the freedom to communicate without
misunderstanding.  I would free us from hurt and pain
and self-protection so that we could both, finally,
grow and realize that we -"
 There were tears in Mulder's eyes.   There were tears
 in her own.  She
was leaning in close to him and his fingers had a
stranglehold on hers. Theresa interrupted before
Scully could finish her sentence. She said, "We're
down to only a few minutes, so let me make my final
recommendations."
 The moment was broken. Mulder blinked and the tears
 were gone.  He
looked at Theresa and Scully felt as though she had
ceased to exist.  Her hands were freed and she sank
back to sit on the carpet as Theresa made her
judgment.  "You need to participate more," she said to
Mulder. "Don't be shy and let others dominate the
conversation."
 Theresa turned to Scully.  "Since you did most of the
 talking, I know
more about you.  You have a real problem with
authority.  You also have a problem with abandonment
issues.  You mention specifically that you don't want
your man to go off and leave you alone to sit at home
to worry.  You need to take action yourself.  You need
to be able to rely on yourself.  I also think that
your aims are too high.  No man could ever fill the
shoes of your ideal man. I suspect that is where your
trouble comes from.  You have a fear of commitment
because you are afraid to see the man you think you
love fail to live up to your stringent standards.  And
yet your criticisms are not strenuous enough.   You
need to aim for the middle, and be happy with what you
have."
 Scully didn't know if Theresa was done or not, but
 she knew that she
was wrong.  She wasn't going to listen to this any
more.  Scully had just made the most honest confession
of her entire life, in the interest of harboring no
more misunderstandings.  She had said, seventeen
different ways, how very much she loved Mulder. She
had just been about to lay it clear in simple terms
when Theresa interrupted her.  Scully felt humiliated
and hurt somehow by it all.  So she walked out of the
room.
 She didn't expect Mulder to follow her.  He did,
 remaining close to her
side like a leech.  Scully dreaded his first words,
because she was terrified they would be a judgment
against her. She was afraid he would agree with
Theresa.  "What an idiot," Mulder said.  For a second,
Scully thought he was talking about her.  Then he went
on, "I can't believe she interrupted you.  I can't
believe she said those things.  She thought she knew
you when she wasn't even listening."
 Scully stopped walking and faced him.  "Were you
 listening, Mulder?"
she asked.
 He nodded, unable to look away.  "I'm sorry, Scully."
 "No," she said.
 "I never should have been so arrogant as to force you
 to come here. 
And I have been so self-prioritizing that I never even
noticed that you weren't with me, all those times I
went off by myself. I never gave a thought that you
would wonder where I had gone.  I never thought you
cared."
 She wanted to say 'I do,' but those were rather heavy
 words.  So she
said, "You don't value yourself."
 "I do.  Too much. That's the problem.  I take and you
 give.  Today,
with this -" He gestured with her list.  That he still
had it hurt her.  "You were taking control. You
weren't going to give any more.  And that knocked me
right off balance."  Mulder crumpled the paper in his
hand.  He threw it overboard.  She watched it sail in
a lovely arc out into the great vast blue beyond.  She
wondered when it had gotten dark.  The moon was
enormous and silver.  What better for lovers than
moonlight, she thought.
 "I wonder if we missed dinner," said Mulder, who
 turned and started
into the dining room.
 Scully allowed her jaw to drop in shock.  At least
 they were being
honest, but she couldn't believe him.  He threw away
her thoughts, discounted everything she had just said,
and he was thinking with his stomach.  Crossing her
arms and frowning as she followed him, she thought
ironically that she'd liked him better when he'd been
thinking with a primal organ somewhat lower than his
stomach.  Then she'd been in his thoughts at least
peripherally.
 Mulder stopped in the doorway of the dining room. 
 There were no
tables and the room was full of people and noise. 
Conversation and laughter abounded.  They had
apparently missed dinner, but the faint smell of it
lingered tantalizingly in the air.  The people in the
room were sorted into couples, and they were all
dancing.  Some were goofing around, and some were
painfully focused, and some were working a silent,
seductive magic on each other. But they were all
dancing.
 The final strains of "Can't Fight This Feeling" faded
 away and Scully's
stomach felt odd.  She began to edge back towards the
door, knowing that she didn't belong here. These
couples were happy. Their problems had been resolved
and their honeymoons had begun.  There would be no
honeymoon for her and Mulder. There would be no
dancing, and no sneaking out, hot and lethargic from
slow music, to kiss tenderly under the lovers' moon. 
They didn't belong.  She didn't belong.
 The next song opened with a strong beat and melody. 
 Recognition
flooded her and she found herself unable to complete
her intention to walk out of the dance area and
retreat to their quiet, lonely cabin.  She looked at
him, and knew the same thought was in his mind. 

 "Put on my blue suede shoes and I boarded the plane 
 Touched down in the land of the delta blues 
 In the middle of a pouring rain 
 W.C. Handy, won't you look down over me 
 Yeah I got a first class ticket but I'm as blue as a
 girl can be"

They just stared at each other as the unmistakable
sound of Cher filled the room.

 "Cause I'm walking in Memphis 
 Was walkin with my feet ten feet off a Beale 
 Walking in Memphis  
 Do I really feel the way I feel?"

Mulder held his hand out to her, unable to meet her
eyes.  With an odd feeling about this, she accepted it
and allowed him to pull her against him.

 "Saw the ghost of Elvis on Union Avenue 
 Followed him up to the gates of Graceland 
 And watched him walk right through 
 Now security they did not see him 
 They just hovered around his tomb 
 There's a pretty little thing 
 Waiting for the King 
 Down in the Jungle Room"

Moving slowly with the music with Mulder was pure
torture.  Not because he was a bad dancer. In fact,
the opposite.  He looked down at her and he was
smiling.  She found herself smiling back.

 "Well I was walking in Memphis 
 Was walkin with my feet ten feet off a Beale 
 Walking in Memphis  
 Do I really feel the way I feel?"

He was leaning in closer to her.  Her smiling lips
parted in anticipation of the kiss.  Her head tilted
back to ease their meeting...

 "Do I really feel the way I feel?"

A sudden, terrible screech sent them apart, startled. 
There was a crackle, a pop, and a hiss and then one of
the large speakers burst into flame.  The flame
disappeared almost as quickly as it erupted, leaving a
curl of smoke emitting from the speaker. Scully stared
at it as though it had been a cautionary omen. Just as
Cher was cautioning her - okay, it was only a song,
but still - to be sure she knew she really felt how
she felt - just as Mulder was about to finally kiss
her with the same tenderness and feeling she detected
in his touch as they danced - a stupid, inexplicable,
practically supernatural thing had to happen. Well,
she got the message.  This was not meant to be.
 "Goodnight, Mulder," she mumbled, and walked away,
 heading for
their cabin.
 He must have been right behind her as she stumbled
 down the
stairwell and let herself into the small room because
she'd just barely sat down on the bed when she heard
the door open again.  She glanced over in its
direction just to verify that it was Mulder and not
some nefarious villain and then proceeded to untie her
right shoe and remove it.  This was followed by her
left shoe, both earrings, her necklace, her jacket and
her socks.
 She heard Mulder sigh and looked at him. He'd settled
 sideways in the
chair and was staring at the porthole.  He wasn't
really looking out of it, he was just looking in that
direction.  She had the oddest feeling she'd almost
caught him looking at her.  She ruffled her hand
through her hair and stood up, on her way to the
bathroom. She needed a hot shower and good night's
sleep.
 Scully's hand went automatically into her pocket to
 remove the day's
collection of change, keys and lint.  What she found
was the list Mulder had made in his notebook.  Things
he loved - her. Things he didn't love - not her.
Things he'd change - he'd make her be happy.  She was
unaware of the small sound that escaped her lips when
she reread it and thought about how wonderful and
sentimentally sweet he was to have even thought to
write such things.  She was equally unaware of
Mulder's eyes on her, drinking in every rich detail of
her expression as she stared at the paper like it was
a dear thing to her.
 When she emerged from her shower, Mulder was asleep
 in the chair
and so she ended the second day of the cruise by
climbing into the big, soft bed.  Alone.  As ever.

End of part seven. Please send comments. 
eponine119@att.net, jzyvarek@udel.edu

Disclaimer in part one.  If you're missing parts,
visit http://members.aol.com/shippergrl/truth.txt

Truth
Part 8
by Jessica Zyvarek Taylor & eponine119 
jzyvarek@udel.edu, eponine119@att.net

 A loud crash woke her up.  She jumped out of bed,
 searching for 
her gun and then reaching for the light.  

 "Mmmmphhh."  Mulder shifted around on the floor, in
 the overturned
chair and promptly fell back asleep, regardless of the
fact that one of his legs was twisted in such a way as
to cause a conscious person great pain and both of his
arms were trapped under the chair the rest of him was
resting on.  

 She should never have been so inconsiderate to let
 him sleep in
the chair while she got the bed.  Not only had she
found the chair comfortable, she curled up when she
slept and she knew he stretched out and tended to
flail.  She didn't know what had taken so long for him
to move far enough to knock himself over.  Somehow,
the man she'd never known to sleep through a pin
dropping in the apartment above him had slept right
through it and was obviously more comfortable on the
floor than he had been in the chair.  Still, she felt
guilty and walked over to him.  She shook his
shoulder, hoping he'd wake up, but he was caught in
the sleep of the dead, probably from the emotional
exhaustion she'd inflicted on him.

 "Come on, Mulder.  Go get in the bed.  You're going
 to be in pain
tomorrow if you sleep like this."  She spoke softly,
aiming on only waking him enough to shuffle to the
bed.  She didn't really want to wake him up. He half
mumbled something at her and rearranged one of his
legs, but remained on the floor, knotted around the
chair.  She pulled the covers back on the bed,
separating one out for her own use when she freed the
chair up.  Then she went back to prodding him.  

 She'd reached the point where she was kneeling next
 to him,
resting one elbow on his chest, and poking her finger
at his face by the time she actually got him to open
his eyes.  But when he did, she saw the most
unfathomably sexy grin form on his face.

 "Morning beautiful."  

 She blinked at him, not comprehending his words.  He
 couldn't
possibly have been awake.  Or maybe she should have
let him keep the glasses on.  It wouldn't have
bothered her any to see them.  "Mulder, you're
delirious.  Get in the bed."

 His sleepy leer was absolutely adorable, but he
 followed her
orders without comment.  She pulled the covers back
up, watched him pushed them back down, and then
shrugged and turned away, heading for her chair.
Strong arms encircled her waist, throwing her
completely off balance and forcing her to fall back
onto the bed with him.  She was so surprised that she
didn't move immediately, waiting for the shock to wear
off before she tried to regain control of her limbs. 
He used the time wisely, yanking the covers up,
pressing every inch of their bodies together that he
possibly could, and then tucking his face into her
neck and sighing happily.  All the while preventing
her escape by keeping one arm wrapped around her.  He
was good, she had to give credit where credit was due.
Her intention was to get up as soon as he slipped
deeper into sleep and lost voluntary control over the
arm that was holding her against him, really, it was. 
But at some point right as she started to think he was
sleeping, he moved his face so that his breath fell
right on the sensitive spot behind her ear.  The same
place he'd kissed her the night before.

 All of her resistance ran together and pooled in a
 little puddle
next to the bed as she carefully flipped over and
pressed her face into his neck.  She smiled to
herself, and convinced herself that she'd claim
complete innocence and say he must have climbed in bed
with her when he asked.  In the meantime, she'd enjoy
the company.

 A little while later, she woke up again.  Unlike the
 earlier
instance, she couldn't immediately identify what the
problem was.  Then she noticed an odd sensation.  Her
neck was wet.  Her eyes focused on the head of hair in
front of her and she realized he was planting wet
kisses on her throat.  She wondered how long it had
been going on before she noticed it.  Then she
remembered that she had to stop it, or at least offer
some sort of token resistance.

 She pushed him away slightly, causing him to utter
 another
multisyllabic word meaning nothing, yet clearly
demonstrating his unwillingness to release her.  She
tried again and his head moved, kissing the side of
her neck instead.  She felt herself giving in and
pushed him away a little more forcefully.  His eyes
flickered open briefly and then closed again,
searching blindly for somewhere to kiss her.  There
was something not quite right about it, other than the
fact that she couldn't really picture Mulder taking
advantage of her in her sleep.  He hadn't made a
single smart remark about them being in the bed
together.  She pushed his face away again and held it
there.  His eyes didn't open.

 The bastard was sound asleep.  She was not amused. 
 She was now
wide awake and uncomfortable and she wasn't about to
let him have his happy little dream while costing her
precious sleep.

 "Mulder!"  She said his name loud and sharp, the
 professional tone
weaving its way through into his foggy brain and
waking him up.

 He looked startled at first, well aware that he had
 not gone to
sleep with his arms around her. Then he merely
withdrew his arms and tried to sit up, mumbling a
quiet apology.  She put her hand on his arm and shook
her head.

 "You don't have to get up, Mulder.  Just move over." 
 She didn't
really want him to move over, but she could tell he
had no idea of what he'd been doing.  She couldn't
embarrass him by telling him.

 "No, I'll go back to the chair."  His voice was low
 and thick and
Scully felt one more shred of her self control slip
uselessly to the floor.

 "Please, Mulder, just lay down."  She saw his wary
 glance.  "I'm
cold."  True, ever since he'd withdrawn the heat of
his body from her side.  Also true because of the
blanket that was sitting on the overturned chair. 
Maybe he wasn't awake enough to notice.

 He opened his mouth to say something, but after a few
 moments of
his best fish imitation, he flopped back down on the
bed, leaving ample space between them.  He was awake
for the day.  If she'd just let him go back to his
chair, if there had been a TV he could put on, he
could have fallen back asleep. But when she asked him
to stay in bed with her, every nerve in his body had
gone on alert and sent his mind reeling.  He had no
idea how they'd ended up in the bed together with
their arms and legs tangled together, but since they
were both dressed, he was sure he hadn't missed too
much.  He stared at the ceiling for a while, assuming
she had gone back to sleep.

 Her voice startled him.  "Are you just going to lay
 there and
stare?"

 He turned to look at her.  She was laying on her
 side, facing him,
her arms tucked under her pillow, and her legs pulled
up.  And she was just watching him.  Her hair was
ruffled and her eyelids drooped.  And she had a huge
hickey on the side of her neck that he knew she was
not aware of.  He stared back towards the ceiling
wondering if it was possible to extricate himself from
the situation and ignore the incredibly erotic image
his partner was providing.  He felt her cool hand
brush his warm one and he knew there was no polite way
to do it.  He'd just have to deal with it.  He
couldn't hurt her again.

 But then she snuggled up against him, resting her
 head on his
shoulder and draping her arm across his chest.  He
turned slightly, repositioning his arm around her and
holding her tightly.  She knew how he felt about her
and she wasn't avoiding him, so he didn't really see
the point in hiding it anymore.

 Morning came soon after, Scully reluctantly moving
 out of Mulder's
reach to gather her clothes.  He turned over when she
got up and was facing the wall away from her.  She
decided to chance it, wanting to avoid the cold
bathroom floor on her bare feet.  She shed her pajamas
and pulled on khaki shorts and a tank top, with a
sweatshirt over top.  They would be arriving at their
island resort that afternoon and she wanted to be
dressed appropriately, hoping to not stick out as much
as they had from the moment they set foot on the ship.
 Watching Mulder with one eye, she put on socks and a
pair of sneakers.  She was going to head out for a
walk, but she stopped.

 Deciding not to question her motivation for fear she
 wouldn't be
able to answer herself, she climbed up and knelt on
the bed.  He was still facing away from her, the lines
from stress and worry and hurt feelings eased in
sleep.  She bent forward, brushing his hair back and
kissed his cheek before heading out for her walk.  As
she walked a smile formed on her face.  It was such a
domestic thing, giving her sleeping husband a peck on
the cheek before leaving.  She stopped walking so
quickly tripped over herself.  He wasn't her husband. 
He was her partner and friend and while they'd both
basically admitted to some decidedly unprofessional

feelings, she knew she was taking it too far to
consider him her husband.  

 She pulled the ring off her finger, the first time
 she'd done so
since Mulder had put it on her, and examined it.  A
simple plain gold band, the perfect stereotype of a
wedding band.  But something about it had felt special
from the moment he'd entrusted it to her.  She looked
closely at the inside, not quite able to make out the
barest trace of an inscription.  It took a lot of
normal use to naturally buff out an inscription.  And
somehow, she just knew.  It was his family ring,
several generations old, and he had put it on her
finger.  He hadn't just handed it to her and waited
for her to put it on.  He'd taken her hand and slid it
on, with all the reverence of a man at a wedding.  It
had been a wedding of sorts; from that moment on,
they'd been husband and wife. Feeling oddly unsettled,
oddly only because it was a comfortable type of
unsettled, she put her ring back on and walked to the
dining room, intent on bringing breakfast back to her
sleeping husband, even if it was only for pretend.

 He'd been awake, never quite able to fall asleep
 after she'd put
her arm around him, when she got up.  He only turned
away to stop himself from watching her and letting her
find out that he was awake.  He listened to the sounds
of her opening drawers and pulling out clothes and
waited for the bathroom door to close.  But it hadn't.
 The moment he realized that she was changing not even
four feet away from him almost made him turn over and
'wake up.'  But she'd trusted him enough to be so open
and he wouldn't trespass on that trust.  Their whole
relationship was too tenuous.  He had actually gotten
a grip on himself after that, managed to close his
eyes from their wide as saucers state, and was
patiently waiting for her to leave.

 Then he felt the bed depress and her hand in his
 hair.  And then
the slightest hint of her lips touching his cheek. 
Thankfully she moved away too quickly to see the wide,
totally unguarded grin on his face. She'd kissed him. 
On her own, without prompting.  It didn't matter that
it was barely a kiss at all.  It was the closest thing
to a real kiss he'd ever received from her and he was
ecstatic.  Nothing, not even breakfast with Julie,
Sarah, Skinner, Phoebe, and Krycek would rain on his
parade. As it turned out, he was sitting on the edge
of the bed, stretching his arms out above his head
when she returned, holding two plates of something
that smelled absolutely irresistible.

 She smiled at him and offered him his food, along
 with utensils
she'd stolen from a table when no one was looking. 
His stomach growled loudly, reminding him he'd skipped
dinner the night before.  He grinned at her
sheepishly, not half as embarrassed about his stomach
as he was about the whole night before.  The dancing,
his attempted kiss, her second reading of his lists,
the way they'd ended up in the bed together, the
hickey he'd obviously caused on her neck that he
noticed she'd covered completely with make up. 
Everything.  The whole insane way he had been acting
suddenly occurred to him, a deep red blush flourishing
on his face. He hoped she didn't notice.

 She didn't.  She was eating her breakfast, picking at
 the food
that had looked better in the dining room and still
smelled more appetizing than it actually was.  She
looked up, still lost in her own thoughts.

 "I bumped into Julie in the dining room.  Our choices
 this morning
are ballroom dance instruction or the chair throwing
lessons we observed yesterday.  This afternoon,
they're offering an island luau, she told me we should
come appropriately dressed if we decide to go,
although I believe a luau is completely inappropriate
since we're not on our way to Hawaii anyway, another
round of counseling, or what I have the sick feeling
we will wind up attending, an onboard psychic will
read our palms, tell our future, read our tarot cards
and tell us if the souls of our dearly departed
relatives are smiling on our union."

 Mulder nodded, considering the choices and noting the
 fact that
she was doing her professional Scully bit even though
they'd just spent the night curled around each other. 
"Well, I'm honestly torn between the luau and the
counseling session."  Scully laughed and went back to
her food.  "I'm really rather curious what would be
considered appropriate dress for an inappropriate
luau."  She laughed harder, giving up on eating and
pushing the food around on her plate instead.  "We
could lock ourselves in here and moan and jump up and
down on the bed until the second shift."

 She grinned at him.  "Actually, I was leaning towards
 locking
ourselves in here until we dock on the island.  I
think, if you remember the last two days the same way
I do, that we would be ill advised to attend anymore
of these relationship sessions.  They seem to have
just made us fight."  She dumped her plate into the
trash can and folded her hands together, waiting for
Mulder to finish.

 "On the surface, yeah."

 She looked around the room and then leaned forward to
 touch her
hand to his forehead, checking for a fever.  "Mulder,
have you experienced what I have or am I having the
most insanely detailed nightmare of my life?"

 His plate joined hers in the trash and then he turned
 to look at
her.  "The sessions do seem to make us argue, I agree,
but if you think about it, they've also done us some
good."

 She gave her best incredulous look.  "Oh, well, I
 guess so.  Hurt
feelings certainly toughen you up."  She stood up,
dreading the feeling in the pit of her stomach that
told her another fight was on its way.

 He stood up and followed her, placing his hands on
 her shoulders
and catching her eyes in the mirror.  "No, that's not
what I meant.  I meant that we've talked about things
we never would have talked about, learned a little bit
more about each other."  She nodded a little, still
unconvinced this cruise was helping them.  "Scully, we
slept in the same bed, holding each other last night
and you don't think we've covered some ground in the
past two days?"

 The blush that rose to her cheeks confirmed his
 suspicions.  They
had made breakthroughs, but she was apprehensive. 
That was what the time on the island would fix.  Give
her some time to get used to the idea, give them some
time together without Julie and Matt and Tanya and
Daniel and the other people who were bound and
determined to force Mulder and Scully to have a good
time.  He squeezed her shoulders and then stepped
away, snagging her hand in the process.  "I've always
wanted to take ballroom lessons, I just never had
anyone to take them with."

 She rolled her eyes at his back, but followed him,
 saying nothing
as he laced his fingers through hers on their way to
the next session.

End of part eight. Please send comments:
jzyvarek@udel.edu, eponine119@att.net