Disclaimer in part one. For missing parts:
http://members.aol.com/shippergrl/truth.txt

The Truth
part 15
by eponine119  & Jessica Zyvarek Taylor
eponine119@att.net, jzyvarek@udel.edu

 "You hate it," he said, his voice not changing.
 "Mulder, I -" Words absolutely failed her.  "I - this
 is amazing.  But
how...?"  She looked up at him, her lips still turned
into a smile, wondering at the light in his eyes.
 "Come on, Scully," he said, and she could tell from
 his tone and the
way his eyes slid away that he was embarrassed.  "From
everything you've said over the last few days, it was
pretty obvious you wanted one."
 "I did, but - this means - you - I'm amazed that you
 would -"  She
wondered why she kept pausing.  Maybe she was hoping
Mulder would interrupt her again and finish her
thought for her, since she was having so much trouble.
 He was looking at her again and she had to complete
her sentence. He was waiting for her amazing
proclamation.  There were no words that would say all
that needed to be said between them and she couldn't
think of an appropriate gesture, either.  But she
tried. With words.  Again. "That you would - be
willing - to *give* yourself this way."
 "It's not like I gave you the keys to my apartment,"
 he quipped. "I already have the key to your
 apartment," she reminded him with a
wink that stopped him in his tracks.  "Should we try
it out?" she asked.
 "Oh, boy, yes," he said sarcastically.  Immediately
 he apologized. "I'm
sorry, Scully.  Being sarcastic undermines the real
feeling behind this."
 It sure as hell does, she thought, feeling slightly
 less delighted already. 
She was actually beginning to feel that he was making
fun of her with this, rather than giving her something
she wanted so much.  The gift in the box was a symbol.
And symbols were useless unless they symbolized
something. Something real and heartfelt.
 "Scully?" he asked again since she hadn't said
 anything or moved, but
the look on her face had changed. He knew her well
enough to know that her normal expression, even when
she was content, resembled a frown, but this looked
like a real frown.  She didn't like it.  She'd maybe
even misinterpreted it.  He could never do anything
right, and this was just more proof.
 "Maybe we shouldn't try it," she said in a voice so
 soft he could barely
hear it, and she was right next to him.
 "You don't like it."
 "Was I supposed to?"  She looked at him, expecting an
 honest answer. "Yes, of course. Why would I have
 bothered if -  You liked it at first,
what -?"
 "That was before I thought about it," she answered.
 "You think too much."
 "I know that.  But you put a lot of thought into
 this," she said and he
nodded.  "You tell me what it was supposed to mean."
 "You know what it was supposed to mean, Scully."  He
 was beginning
to be annoyed by this. If taking her on that damned
cruise now meant she was programmed to question
everything, every word or look or thought to try to
anticipate and avoid even the slightest
miscommunication, he'd made a big mistake.
 "Why don't you tell me so I know," she suggested.
 "Why don't you tell me what you think it means so I
 can correct you." "Because I'm wrong?" she asked and
 he was amazed that she sounded
surprised rather than angry.  It must be surprised
leading to angry, he thought, and waited for the
explosion.  It didn't come.
 "Tell me what you think it means that you don't
 like." She sighed and pushed herself up from the bed,
 beginning to pace the
room. Mulder recognized that - it was a way of
avoiding eye contact.  Of depersonalizing him and the
situation.  But he wasn't going to get up and pace
after her.  "I think it means I'm possessive. Too
possessive and you hate that, you resent it, so much
that you bought this thing to make fun of me because
you knew I would like it.  It means the only way I'll
be happy is if I can put chains on you, and I don't
want to hold onto anyone who wants so desperately to
get away from me!"  In a burst of fury, she hurled the
box at him.
 Mulder was stunned.  That she would infer all of that
 from a simple
gift and that she would throw the box at him.  But
sitting here in the honeymoon cabin on a tropical
paradise, he really didn't want to fight with her. 
"Maybe it was supposed to mean I'm ready to be
chained," he said in a low voice, rising from the bed
and walking to her.
 She took a step back, but realized that she was
 retreating and stood
firm, planting her feet against the floor and looking
up at him defiantly.  "I don't think so," she said.
 "Why not?"
 "I think it's time to end this, Mulder."
 He felt like she'd held her gun to his chest and
 pulled the trigger,
shooting him point-blank in the heart.  "End what?" he
asked in a voice that he couldn't keep from trembling.
After everything they'd been through, she wouldn't end
their relationship over a stupid birthday gift she
didn't like. Hell, if she was going to do that,
wouldn't she have over the idiotic keychain last year,
which was also a symbol, but not of what she'd thought
it was.  See, he told himself, that was your clue to
buy her something she would understand. He cursed
himself for not buying her those heart shaped emerald
earrings at the store the night before.  But they'd
seemed so...cliched somehow and he'd had such a better
idea.
 "This conversation," she said.  "We were talking, and
 somehow we
just went right past each other.  If we keep going, it
could get ugly and we'll say things we don't mean, and
I don't want that to happen since Julie isn't here to
stop us from hurting each other."
 He hoped her mention of Julie was supposed to make
 him laugh,
because he did.  Mulder looked at her and she was
grinning, too, so he knew he was back on solid ground.
 He picked up the box from where it had fallen and
held it out to her, an offering. "You don't want to
use this?"
 She picked it up and held it between the fingers of
 both hands, letting
the light play off the thin, sparkly gold chain.  It
was real, and it was very long.  At one end was a
heavy gold band.  As he watched, she twisted the ring
and broke it from the chain.  He gaped and she
explained self-consciously, "It's beautiful, but I
don't do too well with things on leashes."  But she
held out her hand and a moment later, he realized what
she wanted and put his hand into hers.  With care and
grace, she put the gold band onto his fourth finger.
"This will remind you," she said, and looked up into
his eyes.
 He was mesmerized for a moment by the bright sheen in
 her eyes and
how beautiful she looked when she looked up at him
like that, waiting.  They were both standing on ground
that was too shaky for him to chance kissing her,
though.  He was waiting for her to be ready - and not
when she was drunk, and not when she was desperate. 
So he lowered his eyes and looked at the ring that now
weighed heavily on his finger.  "It will," he
promised.
 "I trust you, Mulder," she said, and he looked at
 her, startled that she
would feel she had to say the words aloud.  "All that
gift symbolized to me was your lack of faith in that."
 She let the chain drop onto the bed and turned for
the door.  "Let's go to the beach."
 He followed her as she walked outside.  Without
 speaking, they
crossed the small distance between their cabin and the
almost endless-looking expanse of sand and the truly
endless blue water.  There was no one else around. 
They were as completely alone as they had been inside
their cabin, but here the sun beat down on them with a
heat that renewed their vigor.
 "I forgot the towels," Scully said, taking a step
 toward the hut to return
for them.
 Mulder put his hand on his arm and stopped her.  "We
 don't need
them."
 "We don't?" she asked.
 "It's just sand, what can it hurt?"  He smiled and
 sat down on it. After a
moment, she followed and then they were sitting
cross-legged, looking at each other. Mulder remembered
just how boring the beach was. Sun, sand, nothing to
do.
 "You're going to get a farmer tan," he cautioned her,
 looking at her
shorts and shirt.
 "So are you," she said back. It was almost a
 challenge.  Instantly, they
broke into grins and scrambled to throw their clothes
off.  Scully put her clothes into a small heap and
stretched out on the sand.  It was warm, having
absorbed the warmth of the sun, and it felt good
against her skin.  She sighed luxuriously and turned
over to feel the warmth on the front of her body as
well.  Closing her eyes, she pressed her cheek against
the sand.  "It smells good," she said.
 "Scully, you have sand stuck all over you now,"
 Mulder said, watching
her with amusement.  He'd never thought Scully could
act like such a free spirit.  Of course, she stopped
as soon as he said that because it made her realize
that he was watching her.
 "Only one way to fix that," she said, getting to her
 feet.  "You
coming?"  She turned and held a hand out to him and
that was the first time she'd looked at him since he'd
disrobed.  "Mulder," she said, with the same surprise
in her tone as she would have if she'd walked into
their office and discovered him sitting at his desk
naked.
 There was a reason for that - in his tiny red Speedo,
 he was practically
naked.  She knew she was staring, but she couldn't
make herself stop.  The swimsuit left little to the
imagination.  Very little.  What little it covered
aroused more than her curiosity and she wanted to
knock him down into the sand and ravish him. But she
knew that wouldn't be proper behavior.  He'd probably
toss her off, she thought, managing to close her
mouth.
 "Scully?" he said after a period of time she couldn't
 measure because
she'd been gaping.  "Are you okay?"
 "I'm fine," she snapped, knowing that her bathing
 suit didn't do for her
body even half of what his did for his body.  With
that, she sprinted the distance into the ocean.
 Mulder wouldn't have agreed that her swimsuit didn't
 flatter her.  She
looked beautiful, he thought, with that tanning cream
rubbed into her formerly fair skin, contrasting darkly
with the gleaming white of the bathing suit.  It was
cut high on her leg in the back, but not high enough. 
It seemed unstructured in the front, allowing her a
gentle, natural bounce that threatened to set him on
fire, but at the same time gave her cleavage that
impressed him. He chased after her and grabbed her
waist just as a wave broke over them, leaving him
sputtering.  
 Scully took a look at his face, with his hair
 plastered down over his
eyes, and couldn't help laughing.  She reached up and
pushed the wet strands back and found him looking at
her with eyes like the Big Bad Wolf's.  Since she'd
left both her red cloak and her goodies for grandma
back in DC, and she didn't really want to be eaten
alive, she removed her hand from his wet skin and
stepped away from him, trying to think of anything but
the fact that he'd just been drenched in saltwater and
she wanted to locate each and every tiny grain of salt
with her tongue and lick it off of him.
 When Scully disappeared under the water with the
 fluid movement of
a dolphin, Mulder looked around himself, figuring this
was a new game.  He didn't see her.  Apparently, she
was serious about swimming.  He could be serious, too,
he thought, and dove under the water himself.  A
tantalizing view of a kicking foot appeared in front
of him and Mulder seized it.
 There was a loud splash and a frustrated scream as
 she tried to get
away.  They both foundered in  the water and ended up
finding the squishy bottom with their feet.  "Mulder!"
she cried.  "I thought you were a shark!"
 "You didn't really think I was a shark," he told her.
 "Yeah, I actually did," she informed him.  "I never
 told you how much
Jaws scared me when I was a kid?"
 "Why don't we get out of the water and you can tell
 me all about it," he
invited.  Since the water was cool, she was eager to
feel the sun directly on her skin again, so she
agreed.  He held her hand and they walked back
together, standing firm against the waves that
threatened to pull her feet out from under her. 
Mulder never seemed to have that problem, she noticed.
 He's probably got stronger toes than I do, she
thought, and immediately decided that was a weird
thought.
 The sun had risen to an even more glorious point in
 the sky, and
though Scully knew they should seek the solace of
shade, but she didn't want to.  Glancing around, she
saw there wasn't much shade to be had.  Those palm
trees really didn't cast much of a shadow.
 "So," said Mulder pleasantly, arranging himself on
 the sand.  Scully
glanced at him and wondered how he could lay there,
completely open and exposed, without dying of
embarrassment. He loves his body, she thought, and
even that thought turned her mind to sex, because she
had to wonder if a man who loved his body would be so
into it that he would be an excellent lover. Or would
he be too egoistic to give a damn about her needs? 
That was the question - would Mulder care about my
needs, she thought, and she felt herself turning red
just thinking it, as though she was afraid he could
read her thoughts.
 "Scully?" he said, pulling her out of it.
 "What?" she asked sharply.
 "You were off in space," he said.
 "I was not."
 "What were you thinking about?" he asked.
 Here's my chance to ask him, she thought, but she
 couldn't say it. "Because I know it wasn't Jaws,"
 Mulder continued. She couldn't even think of a good
 lie.  "Okay, so Jaws.  I was eleven
years old and I was the biggest tomboy and -"
 "No you weren't," Mulder said.
 She raised her eyebrows at him.  "Mulder, I was there
 and you weren't
and I was a tomboy."
 "But when you were...gone..."  The words had begun to
 tumble out
before he thought about what he was dredging up until
he had to think of a pleasant, non-offensive word for
her abduction that wouldn't make either of them cry. 
Then he realized that there was no such a way, but
gone was the best word he could come up with.  It best
represented the big gaping hole that he'd felt ripped
in his chest during those days that she had been,
well, gone.  "I don't know if I ever told you about
it, Scully, but I spent a lot of time with your
mother.  She needed someone to lean on, and I think
she could see something in me...because I'd known you
so differently than anyone in your family or your
circle of friends had.  Or maybe because she's such a
wonderful mother and she recognized that I was blaming
myself terribly for the fact that you were missing and
it was all my fault...but we spent a lot of time
together. One day, your mother called me to say that
she'd had a dream.  That all the Scully women have
dreams, sometimes, that are about things that are
going on in their lives.  She avoided the word
psychic, just like you would have if you'd been
telling it.  She didn't think you were coming back,
and it hurt too much for her to try to hold onto that
hope anymore.  That man, Addie Sparks's father, was
right when he said missing is worse than gone.  We
picked out your tombstone that day," Mulder said,
worried about the way she would react.  He was ashamed
that he had been so close to giving up on her, the day
that she had returned to them. The very day.  He
doubted her mother had ever told her, out of that same
shame.
 "I've seen it," Scully said.
 That surprised him and he looked at her. She didn't
 say anything,
though, presumably lost in her own world of torment
about what had been done to her.  "Afterward, your 
mother needed to talk.  We went to her house and spent
hours looking through old photograph albums and she
told me about you when you were young. That was when
she told me I could call her 'Mom.' Seeing those
pictures is why I've never felt the need to ask you
about those years, since I'd already seen the pictures
and heard the stories.  And you weren't a tomboy,
Dana."
 "I was," she insisted.
 "Then explain to me this," he said, and to her
 extreme shock, he
produced his wallet and in it, there was a faded color
photograph that she recognized as one of her school
pictures.
 "Mulder, you stole that from my mother!"  She
 expected him to deny
it, to say that Margaret Scully had given it to him,
but he didn't.  "You did steal it," she said, shocked
again to learn that her partner was a thief who would
steal for personal satisfaction from a mother in her
time of grief and need.
 "I couldn't help it, Scully, I had to take it.  I
 didn't have any pictures of
you - except the one from the office Christmas party
that was taken by one of the other partygoers, but
your eyes are closed in that and besides, you were
having a bad hair day so it didn't really look like
you -"
 "But a picture from when I was a kid does look like
 me?" she cried.  "I
don't look anything like that now," she insisted.
 "That's why it's so charming," he said.  "That's why
 I keep it here with
this picture of me and my sister.  Neither of us look
like that any more.  Well, I don't know about her, of
course, not having seen her in more than twenty five
years, but since I know she's out there, I can assume
she no longer looks like she's eight years old.  But
these are the people we once were.  The people we
still are in our hearts."
 "That's very sweet, Mulder, but I'm not this girl any
 more," she said,
touching the picture lightly with one finger. The fact
that he'd even seen it, let alone carried it around
with him, bothered her.  If this is the way he thinks
of me, she thought, no wonder he keeps rejecting me. 
At least Mulder had been sort of cute as a little boy,
she thought, looking at the photo in his still-open
wallet.
 "Only because you try so hard not to be," he said.
 "Mulder, I don't know any adult who wouldn't fight
 against being a
fluffy-haired, freckle-faced teenager with a mouthful
of braces."
 "Then I hate to be the one to tell you that your hair
 is curling up, I can
see your freckles, and you still have an overbite," he
said, and even though she could see that special
caring for her that he had in his eyes, she closed her
mouth quickly, since it was the only thing she could
do anything about at the moment.
 "I was a tomboy," she insisted, hoping he would put
 that stupid wallet
away.  "My mother wouldn't let us go see the movie
because she knew it was too scary for us, so one night
we rode off on our bikes and went to the drive-in
where it was playing and climbed up in the trees to
watch."
 "What happened?" Mulder asked.
 "I got so scared I grabbed my brother Bill and he
 fell out of the tree,"
Scully said. Mulder laughed, thinking Bill had gotten
exactly what he deserved.  After a moment, Scully
smiled too, although she said, "It wasn't very funny
at the time.  He was furious and called me a baby for
weeks and wouldn't play with me."
 "At least you had other siblings to play with,"
 Mulder said. Scully shook her head vigorously. 
 "Charlie was too busy dressing up
in Mom's clothes, and Melissa was already dating boys
who were old enough to drive and smoke and wear tough
leather jackets. She always did love bad boys," she
said, and thought back to the couple she'd seen that
morning. She had to stop thinking about this, she
knew, or it would just make her feel worse and worse
until she'd convinced herself that it really was then.
 "Sounds like you had a lot of fun," he said forlornly
 and she instantly
felt sorry for him.  When he was that age, his sister
had disappeared, leaving him with the burden of guilt
for the rest of his life.  "I don't know if I ever
told you about this, Scully, but when I was young, my
parents sent me off to this school for genius kids." 
Sensing this wasn't easy for him to tell, Scully
remained silent, encouraging him to continue. 
"Thinking back on it now, it seems like it had to have
been run by the people in the project that my father
was working on.  What they called 'creative teaching
methods' actually involved terrible psychological
testing and..."
 "I'm so sorry," she said, thinking he had faced so
 many things she
couldn't even imagine.  Being tortured by evil
teachers driven by the project couldn't compare at all
to being uprooted and losing all of her friends two or
three times a year as her father brought the family
with him from naval base to naval base. Scully had
never been able to figure out why, since he was always
going off on ships anyway - why couldn't he have gone
and left the family in the same house?  She shrugged.
It had made her a stronger person, and that was all
that matter.
 "It's all right," Mulder said, his voice turning
 tough, trying to show her
that nothing could ever hurt him.  "It prepared me for
what happened after Samantha left.  I mean, was
taken." He frowned and she wondered if he was having
another flash of memory return.  But his face cleared
and she decided he'd just been reliving the horror of
having his father beat him and call him names and
blame him for his sister's disappearance. Scully,
having seen Mulder's mother slap him recently, doubted
the abuse had stopped with his father.  Unless, of
course, his mother had been raised to remain silent no
matter what happened and turned to the world of Valium
while their family was falling apart.  It was amazing
Mulder was even a functioning human being.
 "You've done such a great job getting past that,
 though," she said,
touching his arm and trying to sound encouraging.
 "It took me a long time to pull myself together,"
 Mulder told her. 
"When I was the FBI's golden boy, the most brilliant
profiler they'd ever seen, I got drawn in too deeply. 
It was this terrible case involving a sicko who was
abusing children.  The man was a high up in the
government.  The more I profiled him, the more I
started to feel like I was living in his nightmare,"
Mulder explained. He'd never told anyone about this
before.  He thought he probably shouldn't even be
telling her.  She would think badly of him.  She might
even get up and walk away and not come back to him,
afraid to be near someone who had been so terribly
mentally disturbed.
 Scully's other hand wrapped around his arm, joining
 the one that she'd
already placed there.  Now she was literally hanging
on his every word. "What happened?" she asked, knowing
it was all very painful for him, but wanting him to
know that he was safe with her.
 "The other agents began to think I was copycatting
 the crimes.  They
thought I'd lost my mind.  I had terrible nightmares
and had to be sedated, but even the strongest doses
didn't work.  Even then, they had to keep me on the
case so I could find the real killer, or so they could
prove it was me.  Of course, then the killer kidnapped
me because he thought I was the only person who could
understand him.  It was a confusing time. If they'd
just let me go, maybe I wouldn't have had to have been
committed."
 Scully gasped.  Mulder's heart sank. He knew this was
 going to
happen.  "No, not committed - just, helped.  I was in
terrible shape when that case ended.  We got Monty
Props, but the cost to me was very high.  I needed
time.  That was when I first went through deep
regression hypnosis and was able to recall what had
really happened when my sister was taken. So something
good came of it."
 "I'm shocked."  What else was there for her to say?
 "Talk about something happy, Scully," he said and his
 voice broke
slightly, betraying his desperate need to think of
something else.
 "This reminds me of one summer when I was about
 sixteen when my
father took our family for vacation on the East Coast.
 Some town with a really weird name. I don't even
remember what state it was in.  It was just for a few
days, but I had one of the most profound experiences
of my life there." Scully stopped and looked at him,
thinking he didn't really want to hear about what had
qualified as a profound experience when she was
sixteen.  He looked interested, though, so she
continued on.  "I met this boy, and we spent all of
our time together.  We were both so unhappy - me
because my father was always making the family move
around, and him because of his family, too.  He was
older than me, and incredibly smart and sensitive.  He
had the soul of a poet. He was going away to college
again in the fall.  But he'd had a hard time fitting
in there too.  I think I was in love with him, even in
those few days," Scully confessed. "But he wouldn't
kiss me."
 Mulder was nodding.  "I had an experience like that,
 too," he said. 
"Only it was when I was at Oxford.  Phoebe and I were
living together, but things had already turned sour. I
was looking forward to getting my degree and striking
out on my own in the states.  One night I had to get
away from her and I went to this bar and met this
lovely American tourist.  She told me about how she
was going to become a brilliant doctor, but all I
could look at was her cascading brown hair.  It was
almost to her waist.  When she started to tell me
about her job as a waitress, I thought she was going
to say it was in Denny's or somewhere. But she worked
at a Playboy club. Topless."  He looked at Scully, and
she had a shocked look on her face, just as he'd
expected he would.  "I lost her in a sudden crowd of
triumphant rugby players and never saw her again."
 "Love lost," she said in a strange voice, and they
 were silent for a long
time.  The moment grew so heavy she knew she had to
say something amusing to break the tension.  "Next
you'll tell me you've had feelings for Skinner," she
joked.
 "Well -" he said and she looked at him, thinking he
 was about to tell
her that he and the Assistant Director did indeed have
a closer relationship than she had ever imagined. 
"Relax, Scully, I was just going to say I think he has
a crush on you."
 "Skinner?" she cried.
 "Obviously you don't see how he looks at you," Mulder
 told her. "Obviously *you* don't see how he looks at
 *you,*" Scully echoed
back, and Mulder got a stunned look on his face that
told her he hoped she was kidding.  She hoped she was,
too.  "Let's just sunbathe here a while, Mulder," she
said, stretching out underneath the hot sun again and
closing her eyes.
 "Are you telling me to be quiet?" he asked.  He'd
 been enjoying their
discussion.  They never really talked, and he didn't
know why that was. Maybe they'd just never had the
chance to tell each other these things. He was shocked
they hadn't said them before.
 "You can talk if you want to," she said graciously,
 yawning and
moving into a more comfortable position in the sand.

End of part 15. Please send comments:
eponine119@att.net, jzyvarek@udel.edu

Disclaimer in part one. For missing parts:
http://members.aol.com/shippergrl/truth.txt

Truth
Part 16
by Jessica Zyvarek Taylor &  eponine119 
jzyvarek@udel.edu, eponine119@att.net

 He regarded her uncertainly for a moment.  Had she
 just said he
could talk because she'd seen the look on his face and
heard the unbearable silence or did she mean it?  He
decided to try and if she got too snippy, then he'd
lapse back into silence.  "So, Scully, what's the
craziest thing you've ever done?"

 She propped herself up on her elbows, staring
 thoughtfully out at
the ocean, giving a perfect impression of those models
stretched out luxuriously in those cruise
advertisements he'd seen on TV.  "I'm not really a
wild and crazy person, Mulder.  I was raised Catholic,
had my rebellious green haired streak, had some weird
friends, posed for Playboy, graduated from college,
you know the story."  She didn't look at him, and
therefore missed the perfect chance to perform a
tonsillectomy on him.

 He scraped his chin off the sandy beach and
 swallowed, grimacing
at the salty, sandy taste.  "Yyyyouuu?"  Had his voice
cracked?  He thought it had.  Looking down, he said a
small prayer begging for  forgiveness.  He'd worn the
suit to ruffle her feathers.  And now, with the
thought of her as a Playboy centerfold, well, a skin
tight red Speedo wasn't the most brilliant clothing
selection.  He squeaked on.  "poseddd for, for Play,
huh?"

 She turned to look at him, her cold FBI stare in
 place, smirking
slightly at his uncomfortable squirm.  "What, didn't
think the Ice Queen had it in her?"  

 "No, I never thought..."  No, that was just the
 problem, wasn't
it?  He never thought and therefore never anticipated
her throwing him for a loop.

 "The photographers showed up on campus one day and
 Missy
convinced
me to go with her.  She was afraid to go alone.  But
the guy talked me into it and they ended up using one
of my pictures."  She watched him as his mouth worked
to form a word, but with the absolute lack of brain
function, it wasn't easy.  "It was May of '84.  Right
before I graduated. In case you want to go find a back
issue."  She winked at him and laid back on the sand. 
"Should I ever hear Frohike tell of it though, you may
have difficulty having children."  She shrugged,
giving him every indication that she was indifferent
and unfazed by his speechless condition.  Truth was,
she was rattled beyond words and wished he could make
a joke and let her feel comfortable again.  "Mulder? 
You there?"

 He couldn't look at her.  He knew he'd probably seen
 that issue.
And the thought that he'd seen her like that...  It
was just too much to think about.  Especially with her
wearing only a very thin, very tiny bathing suit,
sprawled out enticingly in the sand next to him.  Damn
it, he'd seen too many movies, a good number involving
a beach.  He needed to leave.  "We forgot sunscreen. 
I don't want you to burn.  I'll just go get it."

 It was a good long time before he returned.

 When he did, he'd thoughtfully remembered to collect
 beach towels
and paperbacks and sunscreen and her beach pillow. 
Her heart skipped when she recognized it.  Beach
pillow.  Had been in Straw Bag.  With Sarong. Oh,
shit.  She threw her face back into her makeshift
grave.  She heard him moving around but she didn't
dare look at him.  She couldn't.  He'd seen her hide
the bag.  He'd seen her come out of the bathroom with
the bag.  He must know she'd been wearing it.  She
wanted the sand to swallow her up.

 She yanked her head up and turned to look at him.  He
 was busy
spreading out his Marvin the Martian beach towel, next
to hers.  He'd just told the man she'd posed for
Playboy and she was worried about him seeing her in a
sarong?  Her priorities were messed up.  She sat up,
dusted the sand off her and moved over to her towel. 
She didn't miss how he'd overlapped their towels by a
good six inches.  Had she been with anyone else, she
would have said it was to help keep the sand off them.
 But this was Mulder.  He just wanted to accidentally
bump into her.  Deciding not to mention it, she
flopped back on her stomach and idly wondered if she
could still tan with tanning cream on.

 Then she felt a cold squirt of something on her back
 and jumped.
He laughed.

 "Calm down, it's just oil."  As if knowing he was
 carefully,
gently massaging oil on her back was going to make her
relax.  Ha.  Every single muscle in her body was
tensed.  And since he was rubbing her back, being a
good deal more careful than she'd ever known anyone to
be, he had to know how tense she was.  He didn't
mention how tight she was, just continued the massage
in silence, letting his hands wander a little too far
down her sides as he worked.  She could swear she
heard a chuckle when she squeaked.  He'd gotten a
little too friendly there.  He was trying to seduce
her so he could tell her no.  It didn't make sense. 
He was taunting her.  Well, she thought, two can play
that game.  

 Innocently reaching back, she unhooked the top piece
 of her
bathing suit, slowly removed it and tossed it aside. 
She was careful to not let him see much.  He was
teasing her.  So she would be a tease.  She waited for
his hands to return to their task, but they didn't. 
She glanced in his direction.  He was just staring at
her.

 "I hate tan lines."  Then she turned away and
 suppressed her own
chuckle.  The poor thing was speechless.  The tiny
little conniving part of his brain that had remained
above his waist after the whole Playboy confession was
now gone.  She'd won the game.  She was quite happy
with herself as she drifted off to sleep.

 He woke her up an hour later, after he'd managed to
 tear his eyes
away from her bare back.  Never in his life would her
forget her slim fingers deftly unhooking the clasp nor
the way she rolled her shoulders forward to remove the
straps.  Eidetic memory would gleefully reproduce that
image time and time again, most likely while they were
sitting in Skinner's office or somewhere equally
inappropriate.

 Distracted as he was, he didn't forget that under
 that gorgeous
fake tan was her beautiful creamy white skin, skin
that he couldn't imagine allowing to burn.  He touched
her shoulder gently.  She didn't move a muscle.  He
changed strategies, running his fingers down her back
with a feather light touch.  Her head turned
immediately.

 "Wha?"  She rubbed her eyes, forgetting there had
 been a reason
she'd pressed herself into the towel.

 "Iiii, um, ddduh didn't want to burn?"

 His stutter reminded her immediately.  She got the
 gist of what he
was saying, but he was so fun to tease.  She smiled
innocently, reaching for her top, and then turned away
from him to sit up.  The moment her back was turned,
her face broke into a wide grin.  Then she forgot how
to be a woman momentarily and slid to shoulder straps
up her arms and looked back at him.  He was just
staring like a little lost puppy.  Good.  That was the
whole point of her cruel coy act. 

 "Mulder?  Could you help me out here?"

 His eyes dropped from her face to her still bare
 back.  Had she
just batted her eyelashes at him?  He must be
hallucinating.  Maybe the whole day was just a really
strange completely unrealistic dream.  He reached out
and took hold of the two ends of the suit.  It was a
simple hook and eye closure.  He'd removed them
countless times, even help put them back on too, and
the concept was extremely straight forward.

 But ten minutes later, he still hadn't managed to
 figure it out.
He'd snapped the thing against her back three times,
stabbed himself in the finger with the deceptively
sharp metal object, and had succeeded in being the
source of amusement for the woman who sat laughing
before him. She was laughing so hard she couldn't keep
her shoulders still, and he snapped at her, pretending
that was the reason.  She just laughed harder. He got
tired of letting her laugh at him and gave up.  He sat
back on his towel, choosing to remain on his stomach
so he'd have a place to hide his face.

 "I think it's broken, Scully."

 She snorted and then reached back, much to his dismay
 and had the
thing fastened a second later.  She got up and shook
out her towel, ignoring the accusing stare.  He
couldn't believe it.  She hadn't needed his help at
all, she'd just been trying to torture him.  He rolled
over and sat up, hoping she could see the scowl on his
face.  He didn't like to be made fun of.  

 "I'm tired of the beach, Mulder.  Want to get some
 lunch?"  He
scowled harder.  Of course she was tired of the beach.
 She'd already mortified him.  

 "No."

 She turned around and raised an eyebrow.  "The human
 eating
machine isn't hungry?"  She waited for him to smile,
nod, change his mind and say he was hungry, anything. 
But he didn't.  He was pouting because she'd been
teasing him.  He deserved it.  She hadn't been teasing
him the night before and he'd decided to play
gentleman again.  "You know, your face is going to
freeze like that someday."

 His eyes shifted from the water to her face and back
 to the water.
The scowl remained.  The troublesome little voice in
her head clubbed her conscience over the head with
five inch red spike heel.  She smiled an evil little
smile and squatted down next to him to whisper in his
ear. "It's OK, Mulder, I'm sure you don't have any
trouble getting them off."

 Then she started to laugh and walked back towards
 their room.  She
knew he was watching her, so she added the slightest
sway to her hips and rolled her eyes heavenward.  "Oh,
Missy, if you could see me now!"

 She said it a little too loudly and a little too
 closely to the
cabin.  She could hear voices, and decided to
investigate, walking as close to their yard as she
could.

 "... I swear, I just heard her say my name again.  I
 know it.  I'd
recognize her voice anywhere."  The Missy like woman
sounded upset, almost frantic.

 The guy laughed, quietly, but it was an unmistakable
 sound.
"Honey, don't worry about it.  She's not here. 
Neither is he."  Why did that man's voice sound so
familiar?  She couldn't place it.

 She could place the whine though.  She definitely
 sounded just
like Missy.  "Stop laughing at me.  Why is it so
unbelievable that they're here?  Everyone knew they
were in love four years ago!"

 "Him?  Here?  After taking the honeymoon cruise?  No,
 they'd never
do that.  Even if you convince me that your sister
would do that, and you won't, I know he'd never be
involved.  No way."  

 She didn't catch anything else because Mulder
 happened up the path
behind her.  He placed his hands on her shoulders
unexpectedly, and she yelped.  He laughed then, amused
at having caused so many heretofore unimaginable
sounds to come out of Dana Scully's mouth.  It was her
turn to scowl.

 "Eavesdropping, Scully?"

 She ignored him and walked into the cabin and digging
 out her
phone.  The no service light blinked at her.  She
scowled at it and threw it back in the bag and reached
for the eleven dollars a minute phone on the dresser. 
She dialed her mom's number, not feeling comfortable
confiding in Mulder about the woman right then.  A
decidedly deep masculine voice that she distinctly
recognized answered.  She hurled the phone back on the
cradle and stared at it.  She was wrong.  She had to
be. It must have been one of her brothers or maybe
she'd dialed his number by accident.

 Mulder, who observed her actions silently, fell in
 her line of
sight.  She pointed at the phone.   "Could you dial my
mom's number?"

 Mulder looked confused.  "Can't you?"

 "No, I can't remember it.  And I just tried the wrong
 one."
Mulder continued to stare, not swayed.  "Could you? 
Please?  If she answers, just give it back to me."  He
shrugged and did as he was told, quickly handing her
the phone.

 "Mom?"  She must have simply lost her mind.  Hell,
 she even
thought Missy was having her honeymoon in the room
next door.  "Are you there by yourself?"

 Mulder watched, intrigued by the whole ordeal. 

 Her mother's voice was quiet, but she could easily
 understand her.
"Good Heavens, Dana!  Where you'd get off to?"

 Paranoia seized her.  "Who's there, mom?  Who
 answered the phone?"  

 "Oh, it's just a friend, dear, my hands were full and
 I asked him
to grab the phone."

 No!  The evil little voice was jumping up and down
 telling her
things that she refused to believe.  "What sort of
friend, mom?"  Mulder cracked up at the scared tone in
Scully's voice.

 "A very very good friend, Dana."  Poor Dana's face
 crumbled.  She
could just imagine how good a friend if he was
answering the phone.  "Now, I thought you were
working, where on earth are you?"

 "What sort of very very good friend, Mom?"  Tears
 sprang to her
eyes and reflected in her voice.  It wasn't just about
her father being replaced.  It was the replacement
that she was having an issue with. "Mom, how would you
know I'm not working..."  Sniffle.  "Unless that's who
I think it is."

 She heard a quiet thump and knew her mother's hand
 was placed over
the phone.  Probably whispering to her boyfriend that
her daughter was distraught over the news.  Scully
looked to Mulder for support.  He reached for her hand
and mouthed the question 'what's wrong' at her.  She
put her hand over the phone too.  "Oh, God, Mulder, it
just can't be true."  She heard her mother calling to
her and stopped looking at Mulder's worried face.

 "Dana, honey?"  Dana hiccuped from trying to force
 down a sob.
"How's Fox doing?"  

 She stopped trying to hide her tears.  "He's fine,
 mom.  Now you
have to tell me who that guy is."

 "Dana, I think it might be best if we were to discuss
 this when
you get home when you and I and Walter can sit
down..."

 She screamed.  Dana Katherine Scully dropped the
 phone, opened her
mouth and let out a scream.  A horror movie,
blood-curdling, gut-wrenching scream.  Then she
collapsed on the floor and sobbed.  Mulder picked up
the discarded phone.  "Mrs. Scully?"

 "Oh, hi, Fox, is Dana all right?  And please, call me
 mom."
Mulder looked from the whimpering muddle that had
attached itself to his leg to the phone.  He put it
back to his ear.  He heard a slight muffled
conversation and was greatly intrigued by the identity
of Scully's mom's new very very good friend that had
caused such a horrified reaction from Scully.  Then a
new voice popped onto the line and Mulder instantly
understood Scully's horror.

 "Agent Mulder, where in bloody hell have the two of
 you been?
Maggie's been worried sick.  You know better than to
worry her like that. Think of what she's been
through!"

 Mulder set the phone gently back in it's cradle, not
 quite able to
stomach the reprimand about hurting his partner's
mother's feelings from his partner's mother's
boyfriend who was also his boss.  He sat down on the
floor beside Scully and held her until the sobs
ceased.  She looked up at him hopefully.

 "I was wrong, right?  It's not him?"  Mulder pushed
 her hair
behind her ears and looked away.  He couldn't tell her
that she was right, not when she was begging him not
to.

 The phone started to ring.  They both looked at it in
 horror.
Mulder reached for it.

 "Mulder, don't.  It's them.  You know they traced the
 call."

 "Scully, you're paranoid."  He lifted the phone to
 his ear and was
greeted with the not too happy voice of Walter
Skinner.

 "What the hell are you two doing in the Virgin
 Islands, Mulder?"
His voice was loud enough that Scully could hear him. 
Mulder glanced at Scully and she watched a grin form.

 "Looking for virgins?"  Scully started to crack up,
 releasing the
stress of the last few minutes.

 "Tell Agent Scully that I am not amused."  Mulder
 watched Scully
suppress the rest of her laughter by pressing her face
into a pillow.

 "Sir, Agent Scully can hear you.  Quite clearly." 
 Mulder suddenly
felt guilty for invading on Skinner's personal life. 
But it was his own fault.

 Scully snatched the phone out of Mulder's hand.  "Can
 I call you
Dad now?"

 This time it was Mulder who started laughing.  But
 his laughter
threatened to be contagious and Scully shoved a pillow
in his face.

 "I don't think any of this situation is at all
 amusing.  I'm still
waiting to hear what you're doing on vacation when
neither of you have requested vacation time."

 Skinner had lowered his voice and Mulder had not
 heard him.
Scully look at Mulder and started to wonder again why
she hadn't been allowed to see the case file.  "Well,"
 She cleared her throat.  "Sir" Mulder snickered. 
"We're working on a case."  Mulder stood up and headed
for the door, inexplicably.

 "And what case would that be, exactly?"

 She looked at Mulder's quickly retreating form and
 started to
understand.  "I've got to go, Sir."  She hung up
without waiting for an answer and followed Mulder,
breaking into a run the same time he did.  He slowed
down a few minutes later, seeing her determination to
catch up to him.  

 She grabbed his arm so that he might not get away
 from her again
and swung him around to walk back towards the cabin. 
"We're going back to our room, Mulder."

 "You know, once you mentioned it, I realized I am
 sort of hungry."
He turned and headed for the town. 

 She planted her feet and pulled.  He faced her
 reluctantly.
"We're going back to the cabin now, Mulder, where you
are going to show me the case file, OK?"

 "No, not really Scully, I'm really hungry."

 She glared at him and started walking, pulling him
 miserably along
behind her and locking the door behind them once they
were safely back inside the cabin.  "I've just found
out my mother is sleeping with my boss, there's a
woman next door who looks, sounds, and acts just like
my dead sister and I've started to think that my
partner is lying to me. Tell me my day isn't really
this bad this early.  Please."

 Mulder just stared back.

End of part 16.  Please send comments:
jzyvarek@udel.edu, eponine119@att.net

Disclaimer in part one.  For missing parts:
http://members.aol.com/shippergrl/truth.txt

The Truth
part 17
by  eponine119  & Jessica Zyvarek Taylor
eponine119@att.net, jzyvarek@udel.edu

 "Scully, maybe you should sit down," he said,
 pressing gently on her
shoulders until her bottom made contact with the
chair.  "Are you -"
 She didn't want to hear him ask her if she felt all
 right.  "I know it
sounds crazy, Mulder, but it looks and sounds just
like her."
 His eyes were serious and not mocking at all as he
 crouched down
next to her.  "What do you think is going on, then?"
he asked.
 "I don't know!" she cried.  "I just don't know. It
 doesn't make any
sense."  She glanced at him. "I know this has happened
before.  I know what happened in San Diego.  And
maybe...maybe I am imagining things, maybe I am losing
my mi-"
 "No, Scully," he told her, holding her eyes with his.
  "There has to be a
logical explanation, right?  You know what we have to
do."
 "Talk to her?" Scully asked.
 Mulder shook his head.  "Eat lunch," he said. "Can't
 you hear my
stomach?  I'm starving, and I'm sure you are too. 
Things will look better once you've eaten."
 "You sound like my mother," she said, annoyed, but
 realized what
she'd said.  "Oh god, Mulder, my mother and Skinner. 
It can't be true."
 "And yet it is," he said lightly.  She groaned. 
 "Your mother's a grown
woman, she's entitled to a life of her own."
 "Mulder, how would you feel if your mother was slee-
 fu- doin- um,
*with* Skinner?"  She frowned, thinking about it. 
"You don't think it's a conspiracy, do you?  You don't
think they would use her that way to get at us, do
you?" she asked.
 "Scully, listen to yourself.  Get dressed and we'll
 eat." "Mulder, I'm dressed," she said, crossing her
 arms and waiting for him. 
"Where are we going?"
 "There has to be somewhere to eat in town," he said.

xxx

 There was.  One restaurant.  It was an Italian
 restaurant, complete with
dim lighting, red checked tablecloths, and
candlelight.  It was also quite crowded, probably
because it was the only place to eat on the island. 
It must make breakfast interesting, Scully thought. 
They should have stayed in and gotten room service.
 Then again, room service had its uses. Like when you
 couldn't drag
yourself out of bed long enough to eat.  She and
Mulder would probably never know what that was like,
she thought.
 "Are you having a good birthday?" Mulder asked her.
 Scully was distracted, though, by the entrance of a
 woman with bright
red hair that flowed to her waist.  She never turned
in their direction as she was seated at a table by
herself.  Scully stared nevertheless. "That's her!"
she whispered to Mulder.
 "I see her," he said.
 "Don't you think she looks like my sister?" 
 "Scully, I only saw your sister the one time," Mulder
 pleaded
ignorance.  Scully didn't stop staring, turn and
answer his question.  She continued to look at the
other woman.  He reached out and took her hand to get
her attention.  "I'm worried about you," he said.
 "If you could see her, you wouldn't be," she
 insisted, and the hopeful
look on her face made him feel very sad.
 "I know what this is like," he told her.  "Don't
 think it's never happened
to me.  But you know that your sister is gone.  You
know what happened to her, that she isn't coming back.
 There is no explanation for this that you want to
accept.  A twin, a clone, a freak resemblance...which
do you want it to be?" He knew his words were harsh,
but he wanted her to see how ridiculous this was.
 "What do you think?" she asked.  A waitress
 approached and they
ordered their meals without much gusto.  Mulder
refused to answer.  He believed Scully's sister was
dead.  She looked down at the table and began to
speak, to try to explain herself.  "Maybe it's because
I've worked so closely with you, but I had so many
doubts about the way Melissa died.  Would they have
really mistaken her for me?  Professional killers, and
they were so careless?"
 "Maybe she saw them."
 "Maybe it wasn't her."  At his surprised look, she
 went on, "Not that I
think it was someone else, someone who had no reason
to be in my apartment. But I think it's possible it
wasn't her in the hospital.  By the time anyone was
called, her head had been bandaged.  There was no
positive identification." She shook her head.  "I
know, Mulder, I know how it sounds but -"
 "What about the autopsy?" he asked gently.
 Scully shook her head again. "There was a mix-up. 
 Her body was
cremated before it was scheduled to be.  We never saw
the body without the bandages on."
 "Listen to yourself, Scully.  You've gone from 'her'
 to 'the body' in a
matter of minutes."
 She looked at him defensively.  "What are you saying,
 Mulder?" "I'm saying, this can all be solved. Go and
 talk to her." Scully turned around quickly to do just
 that.  She was just in time to
witness the woman going in the direction of the
ladies' room. With a backwards glance at Mulder,
Scully followed.
 Mulder sat at the table and waited for her to come
 back.  The waitress
brought their bread and drinks.  Then, some time
later, she brought their food. Mulder at that  point
wondered if he should go and get Scully, but he knew
he couldn't go into the ladies room without getting
into some trouble, and he assumed she wouldn't want to
be interrupted.  He ate.  When he finished his food
with no hint of Scully's return, he began to be
worried.  Mulder got to his feet to go to the ladies
room to find out what she had been doing in there for
more than forty five minutes.  There could be danger
involved, he thought, worrying.
 He stopped before he reached his destination,
 however.  Sitting at the
table where the woman Scully thought was her sister
had been sitting was a man he recognized.  Mulder
reached out and grabbed the scumbag by his ratty
leather jacket and shoved him up against the wall. 
"What did you do to her?" he demanded, the entire
scenario unfolding in his mind with color and detail.
Mulder couldn't believe he'd had the guts to hurt
Scully and then come in here and sit so smugly.
 "Mulder, it's good to see you again," his companion
 grinned ironically
at him.
 "Where is she, what have you done with her, answer me
 you slimy rat
bastard or I'll blast your ass from here to Canada!"
Mulder roared. It attracted the attention of the other
patrons, who understandably, didn't wish to interfere.
In fact, the restaurant began to empty out rather
quickly.
 "It's awfully cold in Cana-"
 "Not as cold as it's gonna be where I take you and
 leave you to die if
you did anything to hurt her, Krycek!" Mulder sneered.
 "Mulder, you won't believe -"  Scully began and
 stopped short. "Well,
maybe you will," she amended.
 "Is it her?" Mulder asked, unwilling to take his eyes
 off his
untrustworthy former partner.
 "I don't know," Scully said.
 "Will you let him go, please?" the red haired woman
 requested,
placing her hand on Mulder's arm.  Mulder turned and
looked at her at the touch.  He could see why Scully
thought this woman was her sister.  The resemblance
was uncanny.  "Please?" she said again.  Mulder sighed
and released Krycek, giving him a mean glare to remind
the other man that he meant business, and he would
hurt him if he tried anything.  The woman slid her arm
around his waist and looked into Krycek's eyes. 
"What's going on?"
 "You tell me," Krycek said, looking back at her.
 Mulder looked at Scully.  "She says her name is
 Kristin." "It is Kristin!" the Melissa-looking woman
 insisted. "She also says that it's only been Kristin
 for about two years.  She has
no memory of anything that occurred before that.  She
awoke in a hospital in North Dakota with no memory. 
Which is where she claims she met this man. Alex
Krycek."
 Krycek had that confused, amused look on his face
 Scully remembered
from his partnership with Mulder and their subsequent
encounters.  He even laughed.  "You think this is your
sister, Scully?  Your sister's dead, remember, you
accused me of having shot her."
 "It's not her?" Scully demanded.
 "I don't know this woman." Melissa/Kristin said,
 looking suitably
confused.  Scully stared at her. Melissa had never
been a very good liar.  She said it messed with your
karma.  Kristin wasn't wearing the crystal Melissa had
vowed never to remove.  And why would Melissa want to
fake her death? Her sister had never had any qualms
about running off without a word whenever it suited
her.  She wouldn't have to go to a ruse like this.
 "Scully?" Mulder asked.  Feeling confused, she turned
 away.  It was
strange that Krycek was involved, she thought. 
Coincidence?  She didn't really know.  Mulder turned
to Krycek.  "What are you doing here?"
 "Hiding out from the men who would like to kill us
 both," Krycek
answered with an intense look in his eyes.  Mulder
bought it.  "Now that you're here, I'll be leaving."
 "Good," said Mulder.  Scully placed her hand on his
 arm before he
could inform Krycek that "there wasn't enough room on
this island" for the both of them.
 "I don't want them to find me."
 "You don't want me to find you," Mulder replied,
 staring him down as
the red haired woman pulled Krycek out of the
restaurant.  Scully had an odd feeling about
everything that had happened, but beyond its obvious
weirdness, she couldn't put her finger on what it was.
 "It wasn't her," Mulder said.
 "I guess not," Scully said, and she had a sad, sad
 look on her face. "I know how much you wanted it to
 be true," Mulder offered.  Scully
shrugged delicately and his heart sank.  She couldn't
allow this to drive a wedge between them.  Not this
time.  "Your food's cold," he told her.
 "I'm not hungry."
 "You have to eat."
 "No, Mulder."
 "Do I have to forcefeed you?" he threatened.
 "I'd like to see you try," she challenged, not
 imagining for a moment
that he'd take her up on it.

xxx

 Outside, the couple grabbed hands.  "What time does
 the boat leave?"
Krycek asked.
 "We have ten minutes.  We'd better run!"  They ran
 for the dock, just
making it onto the ship before the loading ramp was
raised and the ship set sail for Florida.  They shared
a deep, intimate kiss then.  "I can't believe she
bought it," Melissa said.
 "Maybe your brilliant sister isn't as bright as
 people think she is." Melissa didn't answer.  "I
 hated lying to her." "Leaving your life behind
 entails that, Lis.  You knew that when you
signed on."
 "I know.  And the money's nice.  But I never thought
 she'd find me. I
never thought I'd have to look her in the face and
lie."
 Krycek slipped his hand into hers.  "You know if that
 cigarette
smoking bastard finds you, he'll kill you."
 "So I'm living dangerously being with you, since he's
 searching for
you," Melissa teased.
 "Good thing you like to live dangerously," Krycek
 teased back "Good thing," she said, kissing him again
 as the tiny island
disappeared over the horizon.

xxx

 Back in the restaurant, Scully found herself pulled
 into a position
where she was practically lying across Mulder's lap as
he shoved cold spaghetti into her mouth. Every time
she tried to get up, he held her more firmly and if
she didn't chew and swallow, he crammed more into her
mouth until she was in danger of choking.  He was
determined that she eat and since he'd turned it into
this game that took her mind off things, it was not
such torture.
 "No more!" she cried.
 "More!" he insisted, tickling her sides to get her to
 open her mouth
when she refused.
 "No," she groaned, "I'm full, stop!"
 "But this is so much fun!"  He leaned in close to her
 face and their
eyes locked.  She thought he was going to kiss her. 
She thought it was finally, finally going to happen. 
Her eyes even began to close before he said, "No, if
you say you don't want any more..."
 He'd given her the distinct impression that if she
 wanted a kiss, she
was going to have to let him feed her.  She opened her
mouth willingly, but Mulder shoved the plate away from
them.  With one hand against her back, he pushed her
into a sitting position again.  They were done.  No
kiss. Fine, Scully thought, getting to her feet.
 "Scully," Mulder said, from the other side of the
 table. "What?" she turned back. The way he was
 looking at her made her
eyes go wide.  His eyes were fixed on her lips with
such a heavy gaze she could practically feel it. 
"Mulder?" she said.
 He began to move closer and her heart began to pound.
  "You've got a
little..."  he gestured to the corner of his own lips.
 "Not surprising, you slob," she teased.
 "I'm not the one with sauce all over my cute little
 face." He thought she was cute?  "What are you going
 to do about it?" she
taunted, shaking her hips defiantly.
 "This." He seized her shoulders, and she thought they
 were finally on
their way.  Mulder lowered his head and she raised her
face up, her eyes closing as his lips touched...her
cheek.  Her mouth and her eyes opened in shock and
protest, but he held her still. He wasn't finished. 
His lips moved to her other cheek, another soft kiss. 
Then he dropped down to touch her chin. This time his
tongue touched her skin and an erotic sound slipped
from her mouth.  Mulder shifted in even closer and she
knew this was it.  This had to be it. He lifted his
lips again. Finally they would kiss, she thought.  
 But his mouth closed on the tiny space between the
 end of her nose
and her lips. He was torturing her on purpose, she
thought.  So close and yet so damnably far...
 Mulder released her.
 Scully thought her knees would buckle and she would
 slide to the
floor.  That had to be the only reason why she didn't
grab him and shove her tongue down his throat while
wrestling him onto the floor.  Her senses were
overwhelmed.  So she could only watch as Mulder walked
out of the restaurant.  She didn't notice the grin on
his lips that would have told her he really had been
toying with her on purpose, and that was why she
didn't have to kill him.
 "Here's your check," the waitress said perkily and
 shoved it into
Scully's limp hand.  She looked at mournfully,
wondering if her body could self destruct under the
pressure of such temptation after so many long years
without.
 Then she realized she didn't have any money.  The
 waitress was
looking at her as though she suspected that very
situation.  How do I get out of this one, Scully
wondered.

End of part 17.  Please send comments:
eponine119@att.net, jzyvarek@udel.edu

Disclaimer in part one.  For missing parts:
http://members.aol.com/shippergrl/truth.txt

Truth 
Part 18
by Jessica Zyvarek Taylor & eponine119 
jzyvarek@udel.edu, eponine119@att.net


 Scully looked at the waitress and smiled.  "I don't
 have any..."

 The girl began clearing plates, throwing them
 violently into the
dish pan she was holding.  "Don't go anywhere."

 Too embarrassed to move, Scully stood there until the
 waitress and
her leering friend came back.  "Tony, the chick here
doesn't have any money and her hubby ran off."

 "Well, he didn't really run off, he just didn't
 realize..."  She
stopped, realizing it didn't really matter.  "Can you
charge my room or let me get my credit cards?  Is
there an ATM around?"

 Tony put his hand on her shoulder.  "Nah, don't worry
 'bout it,
hon, you can just work the dinner shift."  The man had
so much grease in his hair he made Krycek look like
he'd just washed his hair.

 "No, really, Tony,"  She stepped backwards and pulled
 out of his
grasp.  "I'll just call him and and and he doesn't
have his phone with him."  Her voice had dropped to a
mutter by the time she finished.  Tony smiled and
wrapped his arm around her shoulders.  

 "I'll get you a uniform."  Scully instantly became
 very attached
to the bikini top and shorts she was wearing.  But she
didn't see any other way out, so she followed Tony
back into the kitchen.  She would make Mulder pay for
this.  The moment they got home, she was going to
destroy every one of his tapes.  And then she'd think
up even worse things.  

 What Tony hadn't mentioned about the dinner shift was
 that it went
on for seven hours because there were nowhere else for
people to eat and most people went out for dinner,
even if they couldn't scrape themselves apart any
sooner.  Scully did not like waitressing, but she
figured if she was nice, she'd get a bigger tip and
then she could leave earlier.  She was doing OK, but
then she started mixing things up.  She was working
six different tables and none of the waiters could
produce a spare pen or piece of paper and she was
working from memory alone.  She switched a veal
parmesan for chicken, gave someone marinara sauce
instead of meat and brought several people diet soda
rather than regular.  After two more hours, though,
she'd pretty much gotten into the swing of things, and
controlled her forgetfulness.  To an extent.  

 She was walking out of the kitchen, proud at her
 ability to
balance a tray with such little practice, and the guy
in front of her held the door for her.  Until she was
halfway through it.  Then, without so much as a
backward glance, the guy let go and the door came
crashing back. It hit the tray and sent her sprawling
on the slippery floor, spaghetti sauce and noodles
everywhere, most especially on her and then the back
of her thigh exploded in pain as it made contact with
the still hot plate underneath her.  And all the
staff, who were well aware that she'd been 'ditched'
started to laugh.  Then she turned around and walked
away. She'd go back with the money later.  First, she
had to rip Mulder limb from limb.  It was almost 11 at
night, pitch dark, and had become very chilly.  And
suddenly her room seemed really far away.  She
whimpered with each step because of the way the sauce
stained bandage rubbed the blisters.  She would have
killed to see Mulder, or anyone actually, who she
could convince to carry her home.

 She walked up to their cabin, pushed open the door,
 and walked in.
She shed her shoes, untucked her shirt, and headed
straight for the heart shaped bath tub.  She didn't
even notice Mulder, stretched out on the bed with his
eyes closed.  Everywhere she looked, all she could see
was sauce and noodles and meatballs.  She felt sick
thinking about the food he'd fed to her.

 He heard the door open, but he never looked up.  Yes,
 he knew it
was mean to walk away from her like that, but he was
trying to prolong the exquisite agony as long as he
possibly could.  There would never be another first
kiss.  And he didn't want it to be in that restaurant
simply because he'd shoved food in her face.  He
wanted it to be perfect.  He didn't understand why she
didn't understand that.  He knew he could just tell
her, but then, he was kind of afraid to.  He was the
sentimental fool, she was the cool headed scientist. 
She'd probably think he was being ridiculous.  She did
think he was being ridiculous.  That was the only
reason he could think of for why she didn't come back.
 His fear that something had happened to her waxed and
waned.  He wanted to postpone the inevitable moment
went he went running through the one street in town
screaming desperately for someone to tell him where
she was.  Somehow he managed to remain sitting there
until she meandered back.

 His eyes were closed as he spoke.  "I'm so glad you
 decided to
grace me with your presence."  His tone started out as
sharp, but faded to mildly annoyed as he realized that
at least she was back safe.

 She made a face as him, knowing he couldn't see it. 
 "Well, this
is the most unbelievable story, but this guy I went
out to lunch with ditched me with the check and I
didn't have any money on me so I ended up getting
roped into waitressing the dinner shift and it was
horrible and then I fell and everyone laughed at me
and yes, in answer to the question you asked me
before, I'm having a wonderful fucking birthday and I
just really want to go home now."  It was just stress.
 But she was still crying again, in front of him and
she wiped madly at the tears, unknowingly wiping more
sauce on her face.

 Mulder's eyes flew open at her pained voice,
 practically jumping
off the bed to get to her.  He reached for her, but
she shoved his hands away and began working on the
buttons of her shirt.  She was still wearing the now
ruined white bikini underneath and with her hair in
all different directions and stains all over her
waitress uniform, she looked like a little kid.  He
reached out again, intent on wiping the tears away. 
She'd have none of it, yanking her face out of his
hands.  "Why don't you act like a jerk like you always
do?  Stop trying to be nice.  It's all your fault and
now you're trying to be nice so I'll forgive you."

 He held his hands up in surrender.  "Fine.  How was I
 supposed to
know you didn't have any money?"

 "You could have come back to see what happened to
 me."  She
unbuttoned the shirt and threw it behind her.  Then
she took off the shorts and tossed them in the pile. 

 He'd seen her in the bikini all that day, but still,
 it was weird
seeing her undress in front of him.  He turned away. 
"I thought you wanted to be alone."

 She glared at his back, then stepped forward and
 shoved him out of
her way.  She was just so angry right then.  "I didn't
want to be alone then.  But I do now.  Get out.  Go
away.  Just don't be here when I come out."  She
stomped away, turning the water on full blast and
dumping in half the bottle of complimentary bubble
bath.

 A half hour later, he was standing exactly where
 she'd left him,
toying with the box in his hands.  It was her real
birthday present.  The one he'd planned on giving her
at dinner that night.  But then she hadn't come home
and he'd decided he didn't want to give it to her
after all. But then she did come home and given her
mood, he couldn't tell if it would make her feel
better and forgive him or if she'd hate him even more
for it.  He swallowed hard and made his decision.

 A tap on the door jolted her from the semi conscious
 state she'd
been drifting in and out of.  "What?"

 The water was still running and it masked any tone he
 could hear
in her voice.  He looked at the box again.  He wasn't
a chicken.  He reached for the door knob and thanked
his lucky stars that she was up to her neck in
bubbles.

 She glared at him, her dark cloud returning the
 moment he moseyed
in the bathroom.  "What do you want, Mulder?"

 He didn't say anything, didn't even look at her as he
 walked
across the room and sat on the sopping wet floor right
next to her.  He looked up, and seeing an errant bit
of the suds from the bath on her cheek, gently wiped
them off.  She stared at him, wide eyed.  She hadn't
seen the box yet.  "Look, Dana, I know you had a bad
day and I know I was most of the reason, but I want
you to know that I'm sorry."  He forced her to look at
him by sliding one finger under her chin and turning
her face towards him.  "I never intended for anything
bad to happen.  I wanted you to have a good time and
enjoy yourself and I mistakenly thought you might be
able to do that with me."  She opened her mouth, but
he didn't let her talk.  "Everything has been so crazy
these last few days.  I know we're both feeling
strange and out of sorts, and I think maybe we should
just wait.  I know how I feel right now, how I've felt
off and on this whole trip, but I don't want something
that's just going to make us feel less lonely now and
then fizzle when we go home.  I think we should not
make any decisions regarding our relationship until we
get back home to the misery and the messes that we're
are comfortable with.  OK?"

 She was hurt.  But only because she was disappointed.
  She
understood what he was saying and had she sat down and
thought about it, she would have come up with the same
thing.  She didn't want to mess things up between them
either, for fear of how awful her life would be
without her job and Mulder.  She sat for several
minutes, just contemplating what he'd said.  She
didn't realize he was waiting for an answer.

 "Scully?"  She looked back at him, disappointment
 still evident.
"Oh, man, Scully, I didn't mean to..."

 She touched his hand to stop him.  "It's all right,
 Mulder.  I
understand.  I do.  I'm just tired."  She noticed the
box in his hand then and looked up to question him.

 He held it out to her.  "It's your real birthday
 present."  He
loved that he was the reason behind her bright smile,
even if it didn't quite reach her eyes.  "Before you
open it, I just want you to remember that it's OK if
you don't want it or don't like it or hate me for
buying it.  But I want to offer it to you."

 "Can I open it or are you going to insist on ruining
 the
surprise?"

 He grinned and motioned for her to open it.  This
 time, she didn't
bother being careful with the paper.  She just wanted
to see it, to see what he was so apprehensive about
giving her.  Another dark blue velvet colored box. 
She checked his face and saw how nervous he was.  It
made her nervous too.  She lifted the lid and almost
dropped the box.  Inside was the most beautiful
emerald ring she'd ever seen.  It wasn't obnoxiously
huge, but the setting, with the two small diamonds on
either side, gave away its value.  Tears sprang to her
eyes.  It looked like an engagement ring.  He must
have had it before she'd vanished and now he'd given
her the speech about nothing changing between them and
she knew she'd ruined it.  If she'd only stopped
teasing him, if she had only held her temper in check,
it would be an engagement ring and he would be sliding
it on her finger just like he was doing right then and
he'd be on his knees just like he was right then and
it would be an engagement ring, rather than the overly
expensive, inappropriate gift he was giving his pal.

 She let the tears fall, looking at the ring, loving
 it, loving
him, knowing she couldn't have him, and knowing it was
all her fault.  He let go of her hand and lifted her
chin again.  "Dana, honey, what's wrong?"  She let him
wipe at the tears this time, since they were
immediately replaced by fresh ones.  "You don't like
it?  Don't cry, I'll take it back"

 She looked back down at the ring.  It wasn't fair. 
 She'd had no
idea what her grumpy mood and short temper were going
to destroy.   "It's beautiful.  I love it."

 He smiled and cocked his head to the side, imploring
 her to tell
him what was going on.  "Scully, why are you crying
then?"

 She was already crying hysterically in a bathtub over
 the
ridiculously expensive engagement ring her partner had
bought her with no intention of asking her to marry
him.  What more dignity could she possibly lose?  "It
looks like an engagement ring, Mulder."

 He didn't understand why she sounded so heartbroken. 
 "Well..."

 Her eyes darted up to his and then she sobbed loudly.
  "But you
don't want to marry me.  You don't even want to kiss
me." Her shoulders shook and he knew he should have
just asked her.

 "Aw, Scully, come on.  Look at me."  She turned her
 face toward
him, but she couldn't see him through the tears.  She
had decided she was never going to get married and
didn't want to, but now that she knew she could have
had it, she wasn't so sure about not wanting it
anymore. "Dana, it is an engagement ring.  If you'll
have me."  She managed to look confused, even through
the sheer misery reflected on her face.  "I don't want
you to decide now.  I want you to think about it. 
Sleep on it, think all the way home.  And then think
about it some there too.  I don't want to rush
anything.  I don't want you to think you feel
something because you're surrounded by happy couples
on their honeymoon.  Just wear the ring and think it
over.  I'm not going anywhere."  He reached for her
hand squeezing it tightly in his.  "Read the
inscription.  And then get out of the tub before you
turn into a raisin."  He winked at her and walked out
of the room, with his pants soaking wet from the knee
down from all the water on the floor.

 Curious, she pulled the ring off and read it.  It was
 simple, but
it told her everything she needed to know.  'D -
BELIEVE - F'

 She smiled and slid the ring back on, then stepped
 out of the tub
and wrapped herself in one of the dumb looking white
robes with the pink heart.  She walked out of the
bathroom and saw Mulder sprawled across the bed,
flipping channels on the TV, wearing only a T-shirt
and black silk boxers.  She smiled and curled up next
to him.  

 "I love it, Fox.  And I love the boxers."

 He turned to face her and winked before turning back
 to the TV.
"I figured you would."  He held her hand in his and,
without looking at her, finished speaking.  "And Happy
Birthday, Dana."

end of part 18.  Comment! jzyvarek@udel.edu,
eponine119@att.net

Disclaimer in part one.  For missing parts:
http://members.aol.com/shippergrl/truth.txt

Truth
part 19
by eponine119  & Jessica Zyvarek Taylor
eponine119@att.net, jzyvarek@udel.edu

 "It's been a wild one," she admitted, about her
 birthday, to her partner
who was lying across the bed next to her, channel
flipping to her heart's content.  Scully rolled onto
her back and crossed her arms over her stomach,
staring up at the ceiling and feeling the weight of
yet another ring added to her finger.
 "I can't believe any of this is real," she said. 
 "You know what I mean?" 
He didn't respond, but that didn't keep her from going
on.  "That crazy cruise, and now the perfect island
paradise.  I guess the fact that it's been so crazy is
how I can tell it is real, that it's still us. Nothing
ever runs smoothly for us, does it?"  She paused to
think of all the twists and turns in their
relationship. "In a way, this fits right in, who ever
heard of getting engaged while you're already
pretending to be married?  Of course, we're not
*really* pretending to be married.  And I guess we're
not really engaged, since you've been gracious enough
to let me think about it...As much as I love you, I
can't imagine spending the rest of my  life with you,
and yet -"
 There was no response. Scully had thought that she
 would at least get
an interested noise, seeing as how she'd just admitted
to man who had been with her through thick and
platonic thin that she loved him.  But he said
nothing. Trust a man not to be listening, she thought,
turning her head to look at him so she'd know where to
kick.
 His eyes were closed and his face was mashed into the
 mattress.  The
remote control dangled limply from his hand. He was
asleep.  She admitted that she loved him, and he was
too asleep to hear it.  That pissed her off to some
degree.  It hadn't been an easy thing to say and he
hadn't even bothered to stay alert to hear it.
 Fine, she thought, taking the remote from him and
 switching off the
TV.  Looking down at him, she considered tossing the
covers of his thinly- clad body.  But this was the
tropics, he wasn't in any danger of freezing to death.
So she reached out and felt the tempting silk of his
boxers instead.  A part of her wanted him to awaken to
find her hand caressing his ass, just to see what he
would say, but Mulder was dead to the world.
 She began to look around the rooms, trying to
 determine what Mulder
had been doing all afternoon. She found no clues.
Neither did she find the case file. Mysterious that
Mulder hadn't mentioned it now that they were on the
island.  Not that she was desperate to be facing some
kind of weird monster or mutant.  Let the sea monsters
stay in the sea, she thought.

xxx

 Mulder roused the next morning to the scent of toast
 and the feeling
that he'd missed something.  His face felt a little
swollen from laying on it all night.  He must have
been really tired, he thought, sitting up and
stretching, sore from lying in the same position all
night.  
 He saw Scully sitting in the breakfast nook, eating
 and reading
something.  He groaned, trying to attract her
attention, but she didn't look at him. Fine, he
thought, getting up and getting dressed right there in
full view, hoping she would look over and feel the
need to throw him down on the bed and jump his bones.
 Needless to say, it didn't happen.  Mulder was very
 disappointed.  He
joined her at the table and she didn't even look up. 
Just like being married, he thought wryly.  Then he
saw that she was wearing the ring and his heart leapt
a little.  She was wearing the ring!  It looked so
right on her finger.  He wanted to make a crack about
not wearing the ring until she'd answered the
question, but he couldn't. It was too serious, too
important.  He was also worried that if he reminded
her, put it to her that way, she would remove the
ring. He wanted her to get used to wearing it.  He
wanted her to forget he'd asked her and just move onto
accepting that their engagement was truth.
 Because he did want to marry her.
 "What do you want to do today?" Scully asked.  She
 hadn't looked at
Mulder at first because she wasn't certain she would
be able to with a straight face.  He didn't know she'd
been looking, because as a woman she was aware of the
meaning of the word "subtle" but she hadn't missed
much of the little striptease he'd been doing to try
to get her attention. It had, more than he knew.  But
she wasn't going to give in so easily. This was her
vacation and she was going to enjoy it.  She looked
into his eyes and asked, "Did you know that this
resort offers a choice of 17 different  outdoor
sports?"
 "You know, Scully, I'm kind of better at indoor
 sports," Mulder said
and gave her a come-hither look that would have sent
her into giggles if she hadn't wanted to go, hither,
and promptly.
 "Indoor sports are such a waste of a beautiful, sunny
 day," she pointed
out.
 "Indoor sports can easily be taken outside," he said.
  By the way his
eyes turned dark, she had the notion they weren't
talking about Monopoly here any more.
 "Cheer up, Mulder, I hear rain is in the forecast for
 tomorrow," she
said and the hopeful look on his face warmed her
heart.  "There's a tennis court," she told him, laying
the brochure on the table.
 "Is there a basketball court?" he asked hopefully.
 "There's also a full stable of horses.   Which do you
 want to do," she
asked, "Ride or play?"  The look in his eyes told her
she'd phrased the question dangerously, and his smile
only confirmed it.  Suddenly Scully needed air.
"Tennis it is," she proclaimed.
 Mulder glanced down at his worn grey shorts and
 accompanying black
T-shirt.  Scully's eyes followed, but she didn't let
him know that.  "Too bad they don't rent costumes to
go along," he commented.
 "Too bad," she murmured in agreement.  In her mind's
 eye, she
conjured up an image of her tall, lean partner in
short, tight white tennis shorts and a polo shirt that
opened at his throat, exposing a clavicle that begged
to be kissed.  That little fantasy descended quickly
into a romp on the clay court - and not the kind that
involved rackets. Although the rackets could introduce
a healthy element of fun, she thought before she
realized it was very warm where she was sitting.
Perhaps it was too warm for sports.
 She didn't know her partner was thinking the same
 thing.  Mulder
would much prefer Scully in a bright white tennis
skirt that barely covered the tops of her thighs over
the  Scully he had in a baggy, knee-length pair of
walking shorts.  Adding a halter top to the mix made
his temperature shoot several degrees higher.  Maybe
if he claimed to be sick, she wouldn't make him play
outside, Mulder thought.  Maybe she'd let him stay in
bed all day...and maybe she would join him.
 "Time's a-wasting," Scully said, shoving herself away
 from the table
and tearing herself away from her fantasies.  "Last
one to the courts is..."  She couldn't think of a
suitable insult as she raced for the door.
 "I don't even know where the courts are!" Mulder
 cried.  He heard the
door bang shut behind her.  Ditched, he thought
miserably, jogging the few steps to the door and
opening it. "Scully!" he bellowed after her.
 "What're you waiting for, slowpoke?" she teased from
 down the walk. 
He smiled.  She hadn't ditched him.  And she was being
playful. That was a good sign.  He'd think of a way to
turn tennis into a contact sport yet, he vowed,
following her to the courts.
 They borrowed a pair of rackets from the pro shop as
 well as one of
those furry green balls that looked so much more
appealing on the end of some old Volvo's windshield or
hanging out of a drooling dog's mouth. Mulder wandered
onto the court, standing at one end as though
uncertain of what he was supposed to do.  Scully
jogged perkily to the other end and he really wished
she was wearing a tennis skirt.  They were alone on
the courts, of course.  Everyone in their right minds
was indoors, celebrating their honeymoons by screwing
like rabbits, Mulder thought bitterly.   He looked up
just in time to see Scully toss the ball in the air
and clobber it with her racket with more power than
he'd ever realized was packed into her petite frame.
 He was vaguely aware of the ball headed straight for
 him, but before
he could react or even raise his racket in self
defense, the object of great velocity smacked right
into his forehead, making an interesting smacking
sound.  Or was the smacking sound the one his body
made as it hit the ground?  Mulder would never be
sure, because things had gone pretty dark at that
point.
 He opened his eyes to Scully's out of focus face
 hovering nearby over
his.  "Mulder, are you all right, can you sit up?" 
She sounded frantic, and he could feel one of her
hands on his arm and one on his back.  She dragged him
into a sitting position and he blinked several times. 
"Mulder, why didn't you tell me you'd never played
tennis before?" she demanded.  "Why do you keep
blinking?  Are you all right?  Seeing double, any
spots or nausea?"
 "Everything's blurry," he said through the fog in his
 mind. It cleared
rapidly after that, but his vision didn't.
 "Oh God, Mulder, I'm so sorry -" In her furious
 concern, Scully
touched the exact spot on his forehead where the ball
had impacted.  He was surprised there wasn't a crater
there.  It felt like there was a hard bump instead. 
He winced and she removed her hand.  "I've hurt you."
 "They say you only hurt the ones you love," he joked,
 but her sharp
intake of breath alerted him that it hadn't been funny
to her. "I'm fine, really," he promised, crouching
down and beginning to feel the ground with his
fingertips.
 "Then what are you doing?" Scully demanded, that
 worried edge
lingering in her voice.
 "Don't move," he instructed, wrapping one of his
 hands around her
ankle to hold her foot still.  She went stiff at his
touch and he leaned in closer, so that he was
practically kneeling between her legs.
 "Mulder?" she asked.
 "There we go," he breathed carefully, picking up the
 small shiny object
on the end of his finger.  He held it up for her
examination.  "Lost my contact lens," he said.
 "Don't -" she said, squirming at the idea that he
 would put something
that had been on the ground into his eye. To her
relief, he didn't, instead jumping to his feet and
going to the drinking fountain to rinse the lens
before he blinked it back into his eye.
 "All better," he said and even managed to smile, but
 she still felt sort
of grossed out by what she had just witnessed.  She
was fairly certain the drinking water was clean,
having been swimming in the crystal blue ocean the day
before, but she couldn't help thinking about the
bacteria that was bound to be lurking on the drinking
fountain.  Then again, she told herself, if she was so
concerned about his well being, she wouldn't have
brained him with a tennis ball.
 "Mulder, you didn't tell me you'd never played," she
 said again. He didn't admit to the truth, and neither
 did he tell her a lie.  "Show
me," he said, holding out his hand that was clutching
the tennis racket.  He loosened his wrist and let it
droop towards his toes pathetically.
 Scully took the bait, moving in close to him and
 placing her hand
around his wrist.  "Like this," she said,
straightening the line of his arm and shaking his
hand, repositioning each of his fingers individually
on the grip.
 "How do I stand?" Mulder asked, adopting a stance
 like a batter in
baseball. He spread his legs wide apart and angled the
racket at the other end of the court as though he'd
just hit a home run and didn't even have to bother
running for home plate.
 "Not like that," Scully informed him, walking around
 behind him.  Just
where he wanted her to be, Mulder thought.  She placed
her hands on his hips and she almost groaned. Until
she twisted his back and they both heard it crack like
a fighter's knuckles.  "That was a good one," she said
sarcastically. "You want to be facing that way," she
told him, and bring your feet closer together.
 Mulder pressed his feet against each other like a
 virginal schoolgirl
being threatened by the inquisitive nose of a rude
mutt.
 "Not that close!" Scully cried, insinuating the tip
 of her sneaker
between his heels and nudging his legs apart. This
pressed her body up against his back.  "Comfortable?"
she asked when, looking down, she judged his feet to
be about the proper width apart.
 No, he thought, suddenly wishing she was pressed
 against the front of
his body so she would know what she was doing to him. 
"Mmm," he murmured non-committally.
 "Now swing," she instructed.
 Mulder did, and made it sorrowful.
 Scully hurried back to his side to attend to him. 
 She leaned against
him again, outlining his arm with her own as she
guided him in the arc of the swing.  Her firm breast
pressed into his side and he twisted closer, ready to
drop this whole racket.
 "Why can't you swing straight?" Scully demanded,
 moving away from
him.  "That's better!" she cried encouragingly when he
managed to swing straight, since he had no reason to
twist against her any more.  To his dismay, she kept
getting farther away, scurrying over to her side of
the court again. She tossed the ball up and hit it to
him gently.
 Allowing his frustrations to display themselves, he
 returned the serve
with passion and strength.  Scully was so surprised,
she didn't even try to hit it back to him.  She
watched it go past her with wide eyes and then stared
at him, her mouth open.  "I think you've got it," was
all she could manage to say, and she looked so stunned
he wanted to laugh.

xxx

 After he beat her at every match they played, Scully
 began to get the
idea that he'd hustled her.  To her credit, he
thought, she didn't say a word. Maybe she'd enjoyed
their training session as much as he had, Mulder
decided and couldn't keep the smirk from his face.
 "What do you look so smug about?" Scully demanded.
 Mulder's head came up and he looked at her.
 "Nothing," he said
quickly.
 "Do you ride as well as you play tennis?" she asked.
 "Well -"
 "Novice at that, too, huh?" she teased.
 "Maybe we should leave the horses for another place
 and time,"
Mulder suggested.
 "You don't think it would be ro -" she censored
 herself before the word
"romantic" slipped from her lips and replaced it with,
"fun to ride horses down the beach?"  He didn't
answer.  "It's quite a picture, huh?" she continued.
 "Makes me think of that last scene of 'Planet of the
 Apes,'" Mulder
said with a sour look.
 "That's bad?" she asked.
 "I hate that movie," he grumbled.
 "Why?  Did you feel threatened by the fact that
 humans could one day
be overwhelmed in their intelligence by a terrestrial
species we believe to be primitive and inferior to our
own through our own ignorance?"  Scully asked.
 "No, it just pissed me off when they nuked the
 world." "That was in the second movie, wasn't it?"
 Scully asked. "Whatever," said Mulder. "I promise we
 won't encounter the Statue of Liberty's buried hand
 out
there in the sand," Scully said diplomatically and
opened the barn door. Mulder tried to image them both
dressed in animal skins, on the back of a wild horse
without a saddle, but the image came about as freely
as did the notion of Scully and himself conversing
with a pair of apes that looked like bad props from a
scifi movie.
 "What do you know," Mulder said, feeling better
 already. "There's only one horse," Scully said,
 frowning.  She looked at him
and he wiped the grin off his face as quickly as
possible.  "Why would they have an odd number of
horses if this is a place for couples?"
 Mulder knew that if he explained to her the appeal of
 two human
bodies pressed close together on horseback, she would
never agree to ride with him.  So he shrugged and
began to lead the horse from its stall.  He walked
over to the wall and pulled down the heavy leather
saddle.  Scully watched the play of muscles in his
back and arms, visible through his shirt. "Aren't you
going to help me?" Mulder asked her.
 "I'm holding the horse," she replied, patting the
 side of its face, feeling
the softness of its silky coat against her palm.
 "Of course," he muttered as he struggled to get the
 saddle onto the
horse that kept sidestepping him. He had a good idea
of why this horse was the only one left.  
 "You know about this, don't you Mulder?" Scully
 asked, sounding
impressed.
 "We spent a lot of time riding in the summers," he
 answered.  "You?" "I learned in college because I
 thought I should.  We never had the
time or money for horses when I was young."
 Mulder nodded.  "Why did you think you should?"
 Scully hesitated and moved her body as though she was
 about to relate
something she found embarrassing.  "Okay, my friend
taught me to drive a stick shift because we were
having an argument about what if you were stranded
somewhere with a killer and the only way out was a
stick shift car. So I thought about it, and decided
that an FBI agent should be able to ride a horse, too.
Just in case."
 "Makes perfect sense," Mulder said, making a face
 that indicated that
it made no sense to him at all.  Scully was usually
much more logical than that, he thought.  Or else it
was a logical thing to say and that was why it went
right over his head,  he thought.  "All set," he said,
patting the horse's rear.  It sidestepped him once
again.
 He took the reins from Scully's hands and led the
 horse outside.  Then
he met her blue eyes and asked,  "Ready?"
 She smiled her brave smile in return and he could
 tell she was having
doubts.  Mulder swung up into the saddle and then
reached down to help her up.  She ignored his hands,
determined to do it herself.  She smashed her foot on
top of his in the near stirrup and struggled to haul
herself up.  Mulder put his hands out and grabbed her
body to steady her against him.
 The horse, startled by this unfamiliar activity,
 began to walk, throwing
Scully against Mulder before she could seat herself in
the saddle.  "Grab the reins," Mulder cried.
 "What?" Scully said, taken off guard.
 "Reins?" he said pointedly.
 "Oh," said Scully.  She had to lean forward to grab
 them from where
they were hanging down.  This pressed her behind
against Mulder provocatively.  The horse began to trot
and Mulder threw his arms around her waist, worried
she was going to take a bad fall.  "Got them," she
said, settling back into a sitting position.  "There's
not much room," she judged, trying to get comfortable.
 No there's not, Mulder thought as she squirmed
 against him.  "Ever
ride a motorcycle?" he asked, hoping the motion of the
horse and everything else would distract her from how
much this was turning him on.
 "No," she told him.
 "You think they rent them here too?" he joked.
 "I don't know, can you ride them in the sand?" she
 said in a seductively
teasing tone, leaning backwards and turning her head
to meet his eyes for a moment.  She was equally
uncomfortable, with her the saddle horn pressed
tightly against her.  She was beginning to quickly
understand the Victorian appeal of sidesaddles in a
way she never had before.  She was also beginning to
understand why young girls found horses so exciting
and why many psychologists contended that horses were
a stand-in for sexuality in young girls.  The movement
between her thighs, especially with the saddle rubbing
against her, was very....enticing.  Especially with
Mulder's chest pressed against her back and his arms
resting loose but strong around her.  She leaned back
against him and heard him groan low in his throat.
 "What was that?" she murmured.
 "I didn't say anything," Mulder protested and his
 voice was low and
sensual.
 "This is fun," she said and the words were weak.
 "Mmm," he agreed.  He leaned forward and placed his
 lips behind her
ear, nuzzling warmly at her neck.  She threw her head
back to allow him greater access  For a second, she
felt unsteady and like she was losing her balance, and
Scully strained to hold herself upright by pressing
into the horse's side with her feet.
 The horse broke into a run and the two enamored
 people were taken
off guard.  Unable to move quickly enough to hold on,
they tumbled off together in a tangle of arms and
legs.  When they came to a stop, hard against the
ground, Scully was on the ground with Mulder curled
around her as though he'd been trying to protect her.
It hadn't worked, since her body had been the one to
hit the ground, but it had been a nice try.
 "Ow," Scully commented.  Her body ached where she'd
 fallen and
Mulder was crushing her with his greater male weight.
 "Are you okay?" he asked, looking concernedly into
 her eyes. "Get off me," she insisted, pushing at him.
  He got to his hands and
knees and crawled backwards from her body and she sat
up. "I'm going to be sore tomorrow," she said, not
looking forward to it.
 "But you're okay?" Mulder asked eagerly.
 "Yeah, are you?" she asked, looking at him. His
 forehead was
beginning to turn dark and bruised where she'd socked
him with the tennis ball.
 "Great," he answered.
 "This is fun," she said.
 "I've got good news for you, then, if you think so,"
 Mulder told her. "Yeah, what's that?" she asked. "The
 horse is gone." "Hell," she breathed, trying to
 decide if it was worth the effort to get
up.  Then she realized what he was saying - they were
going to have to drag their battered bodies back. 
"How far do you think we rode?" she asked.
 Mulder shrugged.  "Do you know what direction we were
 going?" he
asked.
 She'd forgotten his utter inability to pay attention
 to his location at any
time.  Scully looked up at the sun and thought for a
moment.  "That way," she said, stretching out her arm
and maneuvered herself back onto her feet.  She hoped
it wasn't going to be a long walk.  She also knew
better.  Just think of the jacuzzi at the end of the
trail, she told herself, linking arms with Mulder and
they started on their way.

end of part 19. comments: eponine119@att.net,
jzyvarek@udel.edu

Disclaimer in part one.  For missing parts:
http://members.aol.com/shippergrl/truth.txt

Truth 
Part 20
by Jessica Zyvarek Taylor & eponine119 
jzyvarek@udel.edu, eponine119@att.net

 Two miles later, Scully plopped down in the sand. 
 Mulder remained
standing for a while, staring first in the direction
they were walking and then in the other.  "You sure
we're heading the right way?  It didn't take this long
to get here."

 Scully wiped at the beads of sweat that were
 threatening to drip
into her eyes and make them sting.  "We were on a
horse who was doing all the work.  And we were, uh," 
She saw that his attention had returned to her.  He
was staring intently.  And grinning.

 "We were uh what, Scully?"  He sat down beside her,
 closer than
she wanted any human being to be at that moment.  The
damn island was a little too tropical for a long walk.

 "We were... Stop that!"  She batted at his hand which
 was slowly
making it's way up her leg.  He ignored her.  When his
hand reached her knee, she pushed him again. 

 "We were what, Scully?"  His grin, his hand, his
 voice, the way he
was leaning forward and just barely gliding his cheek
against her hair, she knew he was teasing her.  He was
never going to make a move on her that wasn't a joke. 
But then the sparkle of the ring caught her eye and
she smiled.

 She shoved him away, more forcefully, knowing the
 last shreds of
her self control were going to snap at any moment. 
"Distracted, Mulder. We were distracted.  I, in fact,
was purposely being distracted by you."

 He tried to look innocent for a moment, but failed. 
 He pointed
his finger at her.  "You were the one distracting me. 
You were bouncing up and down in my lap.  It was kind
of hard to ignore."  Scully blushed at the insinuation
and since she couldn't think of a comeback, she stood
up and started walking again.  "Hey, where are you
going?"

 "Somewhere where I can get out of the sun. I'm about
 beached out
right now, especially since we're still nowhere near
the room."  He caught up to her, respecting her need
for personal space, but close enough that they
occasionally brushed arms.  "What I wouldn't give for
a swim right now!"

 Mulder looked between his partner and the ocean so
 many times he
started to get dizzy.  "Uh, Scully, I think you have
heat exhaustion, or sun poisoning, or heat stroke,
or..."

 She looked at him, noticing the odd, quick way he
 head was
turning.  "Mulder, are you having a seizure?"

 He looked at her, not realizing what she was talking
 about.
"Scully, there's a whole ocean, right here."  He made
a wide sweeping gesture with his arm, to indicate that
there was actually an entire ocean at her disposal.

 She gave him The Look.  "Mulder, I'm not wearing my
 bathing suit."

 He stared back, straight faced.  "So?"

 Indignant, she folded her arms over her chest. 
 "You're not
suggesting that I..."

 He grinned and started pulling his shirt over his
 head.  "Last one
in has to clean the sunflower seeds out of my car!" 
He'd changed in front of her that morning, so he
didn't feel too embarrassed stripping it all right
back off.  He left his boxers on, though, and she
couldn't help but be disappointed.  There was no
telling what could happen if they were to go
skinny-dipping.  He dove into the water with all the
grace of a swan. She watched him, contemplating his
strong shoulders.  He was a swimmer, she could tell,
although she'd never seen him in a pool or heard him
talk about it.  She watched him take a few strokes,
not looking back to see if she was following him.

 She started to pull off her shirt, folding it
 carefully, before
unbuttoning her shorts.  She toyed with the idea of
taking her bra off, but in the end, she left it on,
figuring that was wearing as much clothing as she had
been when she'd paraded around in the bikini.  So why
did she feel so nervous?  Probably because underwear
wasn't meant to get wet and therefore couldn't be
counted on not to turn transparent.  She shrugged off
any remaining thoughts in her head and chased him into
the water.

 They splashed around for almost a half hour.  And
 then Mulder dove
under the water and vanished, reminiscent of the way
he'd done the day before.  He knew it scared her.  She
counted to twenty and when he didn't surface, she
started walking back to shore.  She wasn't going to
play if he wasn't going to play fair.  He reappeared
behind her, not scaring her because she was too
annoyed to get scared, and wrapped his arms around
her.  She clawed lightly at his hands, trying to get
away, but gave up and relaxed against him.

 "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.  There's a
 strong
undertow."  

 She attempted to face him, but he held her tight. 
 "Are you OK?
Did you get hurt?"

 He rocked her slightly, tucking his face next to
 hers, both of
them amazed at the way it seemed to fit perfectly. 
"I'm all right."  He tightened his grip.  "I'm all
right, now."  He let her go, swimming back to shore
quickly and then depositing himself spread-eagle in
the sand. She could tell he was rattled by the
experience and hurried to join him, feeling partly
responsible because she'd just assumed he was playing
around and not that he might be in any danger.  She
stretched out beside him on her stomach, catching his
hand and holding it between both of hers. He let her
hold it, turning his head to watch her.

 She kissed his knuckles and then the back of his hand
 and then his
palm before he moved his hand out of her reach and
pulled her against him. "Mulder, I'm never going to
let anything happen to you."  She said it quietly and
was caught off guard at how much she meant it.

 He grinned at the top of her head.  "Hey, that's my
 line."  

 They stayed like that for a while and once they were
 dry, they got
dressed and started walking again.  She stole a few
sideways glances at him, still worried, but not
wanting to harass him.  He noticed her watching him,
and let her until it really started to bother him.

 "OK, Scully, what?"

 She sighed, caught red handed.  "You like to swim,
 don't you."
She said it as a fact, knowing he'd say it was true,
barely waiting for his confirmation.  "But you hate
the water."  He shrugged, as if to claim it didn't
really bother him.  "Why are you afraid of the water?"
 She said it quietly, not trying to make him feel self
conscious, but wanting to understand.

 He didn't speak right away.  "When I was little, long
 before
Samantha was abducted, I used to have nightmares." 
She didn't say anything.  She'd never heard him
mention having nightmares, but she knew they plagued
him.  All the nights in dinky motel that couldn't
afford insulation had taught her to expect to be woken
up by his screams.  She just never knew what to say. 
"Terrible ones, horribly vivid.  I used to dream the
same thing every night, that Samantha was drowning and
I was there and couldn't get to her.  I could hear her
calling to me and then her head would disappear under
the water and she never came back up."  She took his
hand again, squeezing it to provide support, but
letting him finish without interruption.  "Sometimes
I'd run into her room and wake her up and other times
I'd just stay in my bed and scream.  My father would
come in those nights.  He'd hit me and call me a loser
and all kind of names."  Scully wanted to say
something to undo the years of damage the abusive man
had caused, but she couldn't think of anything.  "My
mother sent me to a shrink a couple of times, but he
never got anywhere.  The nightmares stopped right
before... it happened.  Then they were replaced by
different ones.  Real ones.  That's when I stopped
sleeping."

 "You've certainly slept a lot the last few days." 
 She hadn't
realized it until then, but it was uncharacteristic of
him to sleep all night.

 "It's different when you're here."  He smiled at her
 and then
turned his eyes back to the sand as they walked.  "I
can only sleep through the night when you're in the
same room."

 "Mulder, I'm flattered, but I'm sure there some..."

 He interrupted her.  "No, Scully, I know I haven't
 slept more than
a few hours at a time in 25 years.  You're a miracle
worker.  You make me feel safe."

 She didn't know what to say to that.  So she said
 nothing.  After
a while, he continued.  "I've always loved to swim, as
long as it's in a pool."

 "Then why did you.."  She trailed off, afraid she was
 pressing
him, being too logical when he was talking about his
feelings.  Feelings and fears didn't have to pay any
attention to logic.  That's why Scully was so afraid
of having them.  It was the only fear she allowed
herself to have.

 "I know you love the ocean, Dana.  You've told me
 about your
father calling you Starbuck and about how much you
love the water.  And I want to love it too.  I want to
love anything that you love.  I want to love it with
you."

 She squeezed his hand again, loving him so much it
 hurt because he
was willing to do something he was afraid of for her. 
With her.  "Thank you."  It was the only thing she
felt it was right to say.

 He toyed with the idea of telling her that he'd heard
 her
confession the night before and had been so surprised
that he pretended to be asleep.  He hadn't seen it
coming and then she'd mentioned that she loved him and
had been so casual about it.  He hadn't known what to
do. He had a hard time saying the words, but he knew
there were other ways and opening himself up to her
was one of them.  He knew he trusted her, but thinking
about what she'd said on the cruise, he wasn't sure
that she knew he trusted her.  He wanted to show it,
and telling her about his fears was one way.  She was
so forgiving and gentle, not saying anything to make
fun of him, that he couldn't help but love her more.

 He wanted to throw her down in the sand right then,
 and he knew
she probably wouldn't resist him, but he'd made a
promise to her the night before.  He would give her
time to think.  But that didn't mean he couldn't try
to sway her every step of the way.  She was wearing
his ring. He'd caught her staring at it quite a few
times.  A downright foolish grin spread across his
face.  It was such an outdated idea, her being 'his,'
but he knew it was true.  He knew no one else in the
world could take her away from him.  He looked up at
the scattered puffy white clouds and decided someone
up there like him a whole hell of a lot.

 They were shocked when they realized they'd made it
 back to the
inhabited part of the island.  Walking along the
beach, holding hands in silence, the time and the
distance just seemed to fly past.  Their hands
remained joined as they walked past the other couples
and back to the hotel grounds.

 "Mulder, we really should tell them we lost their
 horse."

 "Scully, we really should sue them.  Their horse lost
 us.  We
could have been seriously injured from the fall."

 "I'm sure there's some kind of release somewhere in
 the paperwork,
Mulder.  They have no proof we knew anything about
horses, and I don't think they were really all that
concerned about getting sued when they let us run off
and play Black Stallion."

 "Scully, do you think we could possibly find
 something even lamer
to fight over?"

 "Yes, I think so."  She paused for a moment. 
 "Mulder,  I'd
appreciate it very much if you weren't so damn sexy."

 He grinned.  "And I'm not even wearing my glasses."

 Pure laziness told them to head back to their room
 for a nap
rather than for the stables to defend themselves
against having lost the horse.  But when they got
there and Mulder sprawled on the bed, Scully decided
that it wasn't going to work.  She couldn't continue
to stay glue to his side, even while they were
napping.  Not if she was going to make it home before
she begged him to marry her.  She started to smile. 
She had a better idea than a nap.  An idea, that if it
worked out the way she wanted it to, guilt would
prompt him to take her to see that Justice of the
Peace to make an honest woman out of her.

 "Hey Mulder?"

 "Hey Scully."  Poor baby, had no idea what was
 coming.

 "Know what I found this morning?"

 "No clue."  It sure as hell wasn't the case file.  He
 fought to
hide the grin.

 "I'll give you a hint. It's in the bottom dresser
 drawer."

 He sat straight up in bed, remembering what he'd
 found in the top
drawer and very very frightened of whatever they'd
hidden in the bottom drawer.  "Um, no?"

 She smiled.  "Twister."

 He raised both eyebrows.  "You want to play twister?"

 "That wouldn't be much fun.  I want to play strip
 Twister."

End of part 20.  Comments: jzyvarek@udel.edu,
eponine119@att.net

Disclaimer in part one.  For missing parts:
http://members.aol.com/shippergrl/truth.txt	

Truth
part 21
by eponine119  & Jessica Zyvarek Taylor
eponine119@att.net, jzyvarek@udel.edu


 "Strip. *Twister*?" Scully asked in that wonderfully
 incredulous voice
she usually reserved for when he was telling her that
little grey men had landed at the local Burger King to
try those new fries.  The expression faded into an
amused, teasing smirk.  "Poker wasn't good enough for
you, Mulder?"
 "I didn't see any cards," he admitted, feeling as
 embarrassed as he
would have if he'd suggested he handcuff her to the
bedposts and blindfold her and do unspeakable things
to her body. Which, actually, wasn't a bad idea.
"Well, there were cards but -"
 His shrug was self conscious and Scully would have
 sworn his face
was actually turning red. "Mulder, are you telling me
there are erotic playing cards in that drawer?" she
asked in a low sexy monotone.  He didn't answer and
she jumped up to look in the drawer for herself.	
 "Maybe you shouldn't -" he began but stopped.
 "I'm a doctor," she reminded him, as she'd known he
 would.  Her hand,
dipping into the drawer, found the cards at once. She
looked down at them, flipping through, turning a few
over, her eyes growing ever wider.  When she set them
aside, she couldn't look at him.  "And those people on
the internet think they invented pornography," she
murmured.
 "Scully?" Mulder said.  Was *that* what she did when
 she was sitting
so demurely at that table in his office, glued to her
computer screen for hours at a time?  Looking at dirty
pictures?  The mind boggled.
 Realizing what it sounded like she'd said, Scully
 said, "No, you know,
those Republicans who want to regulate everything
don't realize -"
 "Scully, you say that like you're not one."
 "A Republican?" she asked, shocked.  "I'm not."  She
 looked at her
partner.  "I'm not that stodgy, am I?"
 "You really voted for Clinton?" Mulder asked.
 "Who was my other choice again?" she reminded him. 
 "Anyway," she
said, wanting to get the conversation off of politics
as quickly as possible. "These were interesting."  She
set the cards aside and pulled the drawer out further
to see what else was there.
 She raised her head and looked at him a moment later.
 "See, Mulder,
we don't have to play Twister," she told him. "There's
Battleship!"  He groaned.  "Or there's this game
called Seduction that sounds interesting."
 "Scully, that's an adult game!" Mulder cried and he
 sounded like a
thirteen year old who had just been told by his more
mature best friend to put his parents' porno tape in
the VCR, sit down, and shut up.
 She looked him up and down in a way that made his
 blood hot.  "We're
both adults, aren't we?" she said, pulling the box
into her lap and wiggling its lid off.  "More cards,"
she observed.
 "Are you sure you want to do this?" Mulder asked,
 suddenly feeling
sort of tense and afraid when faced with the
possibility of changing their relationship in this
way.  There would never again be a first time.  He
didn't want theirs to be part of a game for old,
tired, impotent married couples.
 "What can it hurt?" she asked with a casual tone that
 hurt him already. 
He was beginning to think that she didn't care.  He
was beginning to think that she thought he'd gotten
her out here just to seduce her. Which, okay, was
maybe sort of half true, but there was more to it than
that.  Mulder wanted so much more, and Scully was
acting like she was hot and horny and any reasonably
warm body would do.
 "There is a case," he proclaimed out of the blue,
 thinking she'd been
doubting him.
 The look on her face said it all.   She was so
 certain he was lying about
it that she wasn't even going to bother to ask him
about it.  Instead, her eyes lowered to the first card
on the deck.  "It's a suggestion card," she said.
 "I seem to have missed the point at which you read me
 the instructions
in great detail," Mulder said, not liking this new
sexually forward partner at all. To say she was
weirding him out would be an understatement.
 "There are suggestion cards, which are actions, and
 there are
discussion cards, which have questions.  Pretty
simple, isn't it?" she said. "And this is a suggestion
card."  She set it aside for a moment while she wiped
her heavily sweating palms off on the fabric of her
shorts.
 "What's it say," Mulder sighed as though she were
 tormenting him.
Which she was.  Just the idea of this game had him hot
and bothered already.
 She looked at him sharply, then looked at the card. 
 "It says we should
hold hands for five minutes."
 "I thought this was an adult game," Mulder said.
 "I bet holding hands can be a more profound
 experience than you
think," Scully told him, holding out hers for him to
take.  He did.  The room fell into silence.
 Mulder couldn't keep still for more than thirty
 seconds, Scully learned
as she sat there listening to him breathe.  His hand
kept squirming against hers as he shifted position,
his fingers grinding into hers.  She closed her eyes
and soon all of her attention seemed to be focused on
that one small area of skin. Her nerve endings seemed
to be ten times more sensitive than they had been. Her
hand had suddenly become the center of her body.  And
Mulder was rubbing it.
 His thumb slid up and down, making a slow sweeping
 circle.  Her
breath caught and she jumped.  "That was five," she
said, aware that her voice was unnaturally high.  She
was also aware that Mulder was now staring at her.
 "What's the next card?" Mulder asked evenly,
 convincing her that men
were just not into these things the same way as women
were.  Men didn't need foreplay to be able to climax,
she thought as though it explained everything about
the species in general.  She had no idea how deeply
the sound she made just before she jumped away from
him had affected him.
 "It's a discussion card," she reported, glancing at
 him.  She looked
back at him with eyes that gleamed with naughtiness. 
"Kissing."
 "It has to be more specific than that," Mulder
 complained.  She shook
her head vigorously and he thought how cute she looked
with her hair being tossed from side to side in that
carefree way.  "What do you want to know?" he asked.
 "What do you have to tell me?" she asked back,
 beginning to grin.  He
didn't answer, willing to take the fifth amendment on
this question completely, although that meant going on
to the next card.
 "What do you like?" she asked seductively.
 "What do you mean, what do I like?" he demanded.
 "What do you like?" she repeated. "What else is
 there?" "I don't know, what do you like?" "I asked
 you first!"  They'd reached an impasse quickly.
 Another moment and this could
easily become an argument, Mulder thought.  So he'd
better answer.  "I don't know, it's different with
everyone."
 "Well, how old were you when you first frenched a
 girl?" Scully asked
and suddenly she sounded more like a dirty-mouthed
rebellious Catholic schoolgirl than his partner, and
Mulder had to consider that at one time in the past,
she may have been just that.  Picturing her in a
jumper with knee socks made him want to throw her down
on the sand and have her there...but alas, they were
indoors.
 "Age, that's all you want to know?" he asked. "Like,
 twelve." "Like twelve?" she repeated.  Obviously he
 was not comfortable
discussing sex, she decided, or he would be talking
more like himself and less like someone else.  She
wondered what reason he would have to be insecure
about sex.  She'd seen him in the speedo, he didn't
appear to have anything to worry about in the size
department.  "Who was she?"
 "Older," he said.
 "Did she intimidate you?" Scully asked and he merely
 looked at her. 
"I only ask because you seem so uncomfortable with
this entire subject, and it seems to bring out
insecurities that, unlike most of your other
insecurities, you are having a hard time hiding."
 "Who are you, Dr. Ruth?" Mulder snapped. "Tell me
 about you." Scully waited a moment, and he expected
 her to tell him to answer the
damn question himself.  But to his surprise, she got a
delicious look on her face and answered him.  "I was
fourteen and I'd just started a new high school in
Texas.  There was this boy who didn't fit in at all. 
In the middle of all those cowboys, he was pale and
wore black and wrote poetry.  And his tongue did the
most amaz -"
 "Scully!" Mulder yelped.  
 She looked at him innocently, then her expression
 turned confused
bordering on hurt.  Because he wasn't playing the
game. Instantly he felt guilty because Scully never,
never pulled out all the stops like this.  "Then tell
me what kind of kisses you like," she said
insistently, taking his hand in hers again.  He
wondered worriedly what she was going to do with it,
but he soon found out.  She held it to her lips and
touched it ever so gently, just barely brushing their
moist, lush surface against his knuckles.  It made the
hair on his arm stand up.  "Gently," she asked, "Or
more...intense?"  Now she pressed her lips against his
hand again, crushing it to her open mouth.  When she
began to use her tongue in such a way that it felt
like she was making love to his hand with her mouth
and he could really think of better places for it, he
pulled away.  She raised an eyebrow at him.  "Well,
I'm waiting."
 It would serve her right if I leaned over there,
 knocked her to the floor,
and showed her what kind of kiss I like and what comes
after it, Mulder thought, but there was a violent rage
that accompanied the thought that worried him.  He
couldn't unleash that on her, not now, not the first
time, not until they were both ready to face that kind
of intense darkness.  "I like long, slow, deep, wet
kisses that last three days," he drawled and cast a
devil-may- care look at her.
 Scully's toes were actually curling in her sandals. 
 He'd hit a sensitive
spot, he suggested, and it made his longing worse.  "I
loved that movie," she sighed.  Then she straightened
up and he was amazed at how quickly she could go from
looking like a soft, adorable kitten to looking like
his straightforward, practical partner.  "Do you want
the first shower?" she asked.
 He blinked, taken off guard by her question.  "I - uh
 -" "Go ahead, really," she told him. Was this his cue
 to suggest sharing? he wondered.  She didn't look
 like
it was.  He didn't think they were ready for that. 
"Scully -"
 "No, honestly, go ahead," she insisted.  "I'll be
 here." Was that an invitation, he wondered as he went
 into the bathroom with
its hot pink colored molded tub.  He set the shower
going on hot, then after a moment reconsidered and
turned it down several notches.  Scully might not have
realized it, but she'd really gotten him going with
her questions and her insinuations, and mostly by the
side of her that he'd never seen before - the sexual
side.  He liked it.
 Maybe too much. He was in the bathroom for a very
 long time. Too long, as it turned out.  Mulder
 emerged in a cloud of steam to the
sounds of huffing and puffing and general moans
filling the now-darkened living room.  "Scully?" he
said, stopping in his tracks, worried that he might be
interrupting something.  He didn't know how he felt
about that possibility - he knew that men did it,
frequently, but women? - Scully?  He wasn't sure he
wanted to know about that.  Then he realized he heard
male sounds as well, and he knew that even if there
had been another couple on the island searching for a
threesome, he hadn't been in the shower that long.
 Mulder walked bravely farther into the room,
 wondering why Scully
hadn't answered him when he called her.  Sure enough,
the TV was on, its flickering images displaying a sad
example of one of the products from the top drawer. 
Over on the bed was Scully, her face pillowed against
her hands, fast asleep.
 She must have been tired, Mulder thought, walking
 over to her and
drawing the blanket over her lightly enough that it
didn't wake her.  He had never heard of anyone falling
asleep while watching an erotic video before. He
looked at the screen, holding the remote in his hand. 
Then again, this wasn't the best example he'd ever
seen.  It was more clinical, like a National
Geographic special, than erotic.  And, he thought,
glancing at his partner's hair illuminated by the warm
light from the screen, women didn't react to visual
stimuli the way that men did.  At least, that's what
he'd heard. Now Scully had proved it.
 Mulder clicked the button and the movie disappeared. 
 He sat down in
the chair, not tired at all, to watch her sleep and
contemplate why she'd put the movie in the VCR in the
first place.  He sat there, staring at her for hours,
listening to her sigh and watching the way her body
burrowed deeper into the covers.  Lying against her
the past few nights, he'd had the best sleep of his
life in the last twenty five years.  The downside to
that was he'd had more sleep than he was used to
getting and wasn't tired at all.
 I'm in for the long haul, Mulder thought, feeling
 slightly bored. 
Usually he had something to work on, even late at
night.  People to call, a backlog of decidedly odd
paranormal letters to wade through from strangers
who'd heard of his work through the Freedom of
Information Act or heard his name from a friend or on
Jerry Springer.  Not so in the complete peace of the
island paradise.  He settled back and wondered if he
could convince sleep to come.
 Which was when Scully groaned something that sounded
 suspiciously
like his name and moved to lie on her back.  He
watched, his eyes growing larger, as she raised her
hand and dropped it casually on her bosom, touching
her breast as her back arched.  "Mulder," she said,
and this time he heard it clearly as her head turned
on the pillow.
 Ignoring the areas of his body that had been set on
 fire by hearing her
say his name in a way he had never heard before,
Mulder carefully approached the bed.  As he'd
suspected, her eyes were closed.  A jolt of excitement
went through him as he realized Scully was having a
hot dream about him!
 He couldn't just stand back and watch.  He knew that.
  Much as he
wanted to, because this was a very human side of his
partner he was seeing, oddly vulnerable in a way he'd
never imagined.  He would never block the image of her
face as it looked at that moment from his mind -
unless he had a better memory to replace it.  Since
he'd heard her say that she couldn't imagine spending
the rest of her life with him the night before, he
doubted that moment would come, even for all of her
seductive teasing.
 Mulder didn't know what to do as the dream escalated,
 pulling Scully
deeper into layers of obviously intense physical
sensations.  Amazing the way the body can manufacture
these emotions and feelings, Mulder thought,
fascinated for a moment.  He could run into the
bathroom and hide until she was done, or he could wake
her.
 Or he could stay exactly where he was.  Except he
 knew that was
wrong.  He wanted to touch her, but he thought she'd
wake up.  Gingerly, he put out his hand to touch her
shoulder.  He shook her gently. "Scully," he said,
feeling a fear that defied logic.  He wasn't doing
anything!
 "Mulder," she replied, turning and shifting in such a
 way that she
insinuated her breast against the hand he'd placed on
her shoulder.  Mulder's hand was glued there as though
by some unseen power. Her nipple was so hard and her
breast was so soft.  He took a deep breath, gathering
the strength to yank his hand away.
 "Scully," he said sharply just as a low squeakish
 sound tore from her
throat.  Her eyes opened and he saw the puzzlement in
her eyes as they met his.
 She sat up halfway, her eyes never leaving his as she
 frowned. "What
is it, Mulder, what's wrong?"
 "Nothing," he said, feeling shy about his urgent
 tone. Obviously it
hadn't been called for.  "I - you - it sounded like
you were having a bad dream."	
 "No," she said, thinking back.  Wake a dreamer and
 they remember
their dream, Mulder thought, but she showed no signs
of comprehension about his tension or embarrassment
over being caught dreaming about him.
 "What were you dreaming?" he asked, barely above a
 whisper. She whispered back because it was dark and
 late and night was all
around them.  "I don't know," she said truthfully,
shaking her head over the dream that had disappeared
from her mind like a bubble popped by the wind,
ceasing to exist.  "Maybe...you were making me a
sandwich?" she tried, since it sort of rang a bell but
she knew Mulder had never done such a thing and never
would.
 "What kind of sandwich?" he asked in a throaty,
 tempting voice that
made her look at him.
 "Mulder?" she asked.
 "Never mind, go back to sleep," he told her.
 "What about you?"
 "What about me what?" he asked.
 "Aren't you going to sleep?"
 "I don't think so, Scully, I'm not tired."
 She patted the bed next to her.  "You said you could
 sleep when you
were with me."
 "It's okay," he told her, shaking his head.
 "No, Mulder, get in," she insisted, pulling back the
 covers and looking
at him.
 "I don't think I -"  He didn't want Scully pressing
 against him in sleep.
She'd done enough to arouse his body when he'd just
been sitting across the room from her.  If he was
lying next to her, she'd know. He knew she'd know. And
being awake next to her would be torture.  Wanting,
but not able to do anything.
 "Mulder," she said again, and he knew he'd lost the
 battle, if not the
war.  He sat down carefully, swinging his legs up onto
the bed. She was still looking at him in the darkness
and he wondered how good her night vision was.  He
slid down and turned his back on her. 
 "Good night, Scully," he said, forcing himself to
 relax against the
mattress and forget that she was there.
 Scully lay on her back a few moments longer,
 frowning.  She'd just
pulled Mulder into bed with her and he wouldn't look
at her.  He lay on the edge of the bed, all stiff and
careful like he was afraid of touching her.  She knew
that turning your back on your bed partner was
actually a sign of trust, but it didn't make her feel
better.  She wanted him to *be* with her, but she
didn't know how to ask him any better than by doing
what she'd already done. She was trying so hard and
nothing was happening.  She could only conclude that
he didn't want her.  It was the only explanation. So
she turned on her side, also, and faced away from
Mulder, lying miserably staring into the darkness.
After some time, she heard him begin to take those
deep breaths that wanted to be snores but weren't and
knew he'd found sleep.  She knew she wouldn't.
 Annoyed by everything and wishing she could sleep,
 Scully kicked the
covers off her body.  Too warm with them, she was cold
without them.  So she bit the bullet and moved against
the hottest thing in the bed - Mulder.  She scooted in
close, curving her body around his back like two
spoons in a drawer.  Her face was against his shoulder
and she was once again confronted with a reminder that
she had at one time pointed her gun at this man and
pulled the trigger.
 It had been to save him, and he understood that as
 much as she knew it
had been necessary at the time, but it hurt her that
she'd caused him so much pain.  The exit wound, which
she was looking at, had left a gaping hole-like scar
in his flesh.  That was because he hadn't had proper
medical care. Which was her fault.  She'd patched him
up with silk thread and prayed against infection.  He
would bear the scar of her wounding for the rest of
his life.
 She pressed her lips against it in a moment of
 weakness, wishing with
a fiercely protective urge that she could heal him
with a kiss.  Make that one marred spot match the rest
of his beautiful body.  Maybe while she was at it, she
could heal his broken soul as well.  She worried about
Mulder. Because she loved him.
 Scully fell asleep there, with her lips still
 brushing her partner's bare
skin with the faintest hint of her breath.

end of part 21.  Comments: eponine119@att.net,
jzyvarek@udel.edu

Disclaimer in part one.  For missing parts:
http://members.aol.com/shippergrl/truth.txt