Truth 
Part 22
by Jessica Zyvarek Taylor & eponine119 
jzyvarek@udel.edu, eponine119@att.net


 For Mulder, the night was long.  He'd slept through
 her curling up
against him, but the moment her lips had touched his
skin, his whole body awoke.  It was like pure
electricity jolted through his body.  He feared at
first that the kisses would continue, that they would
rain their way slowly down his body, across his neck,
onto his face and if they did, he'd be powerless to
resist her.  And even when they didn't, he wasn't sure
he had the strength to not roll over onto her and
begin his own assault of kisses.

 He'd made her a promise, one he intended to keep, and
 even though
it was the absolute most disgustingly ridiculously
infuriatingly agonizingly stupid promise known to man
to be made, he'd done it.  Now he had to live with the
results.  Unless he could piece together a time
machine and have them transported back to their real
lives and have her agree to marry him.  But the lack
of self esteem whispered in his ear that they would
probably go home and become federal agents again and
the ring would disappear and not a single word of this
vacation would ever be spoken again.  At least not
during waking hours. 

 After her lips remained against his skin for an
 interminably
torturous amount of time, he rolled over and put his
arms around her.  He was going to be in hell anyway,
he might as well make her comfortable. She wanted to
be close to him and he didn't have a real good reason
to ignore her.  He hadn't thrown her down in the sand
yet, he'd most likely be able to deny the urge for a
while longer.  A few hours before dawn, he drifted
into a light, dreamless sleep.

 An almost unrecognizable sound woke him the next
 morning.  He
blinked awake, taking more time to do so than usual
because he was loathe to move his blanket.  Partner. 
She was his partner.  But at some point after he'd
fallen asleep, she'd moved again, winding up squarely
on top of him and he wasn't sure how exactly he'd
managed to sleep through it.  The noise intrigued him,
and since he'd had nothing to investigate in almost a
week, he was itching to look into something.  He
carefully pushed her onto the bed, but she was dead to
the world and he really could have thrown her onto the
floor without her waking up.  Then he strode to the
door, pulling it open, intent on finding the source of
the noise.

 It was clear the moment the door opened.  There was a
 howling gust
of wind that pried the door out of his hands and
slammed it against the wall.  He checked back at
Scully.  She shifted and mumbled slightly, but
remained asleep.  The rain was coming down in torrents
and it was so foggy that the best description Mulder
could come up with was that a cloud had descended and
was sitting outside the door.  The little bit of
ground he could see was gooey, sandy mud and the wind
started to blow the rain in the door.  Mulder closed
it, having a bit of trouble because of the fight the
wind was putting up.

 He looked around the room and his eyes fell on his
 sneakers.  He
hadn't gone for a run in a week either.  The voice of
reason, the voice that sounded remarkably like Scully,
told him that going out in the middle of a tropical
rainstorm was dumb.  One of the dumbest ideas he'd had
in years.  He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a
windbreaker, tied his sneakers, and set out into the
storm.  

 It took a while to find any kind of rhythm to his
 steps because
every time his feet landed, they sank into the mud
about three inches.  He decided that if he moved
faster, they wouldn't have as much time to sink. He
couldn't see much, the wind was so loud that he
couldn't hear himself think, and the windbreaker
wasn't water proof and was doing a pathetic job of
breaking the wind too.  He ignored it, knowing the
alternative was watching Scully sleep.  Or sitting
there staring at Scully awake.  It was good for him to
get out, he figured.  Have something to do besides
watch her.  Something like thinking about her.  He
stopped running and shook his head, water shooting out
in all directions like a wet dog shaking itself dry.  

 Something had to give before they got home.  He'd
 never last that
long.  He pondered asking her to break his promise,
but he couldn't. She'd think he was a low down sleaze
if he did.  He was a low down sleaze, of course, but
she didn't seem aware of it yet.  He decided to hide
it as long as he could.  Maybe he could orchestrate
something that would break the tension, but not make
him look too guilty.  25 years in the future, he could
tell her the truth.  Strip twister might be the
answer.  Since he'd turned her away that first night,
she hadn't really physically come on to him again. 
Maybe if he could get her to again, then he could
accept her advances, on the premise of not wanting to
hurt her feelings, and it wouldn't really be his fault
then.  A half hour later, he turned around and headed
back, hoping he'd wind up back where he started.  

 She awoke relaxed.  Content.  Happy.  She could hear
 the wind and
the rain and she had a nice big bed and a nice warm
blanket and a nice cuddly partner.  Wait, no,
something was different from the last time she'd been
awake.  She opened her eyes.  No Mulder.  No nice
cuddly partner.  The day was already headed down the
drain.  She called out for him, thinking maybe he was
in the bathroom, or at least somewhere within earshot,
but she got no answer.  She sighed, tucked her feet
in, and rolled over with the covers pulled up to her
chin.  She wouldn't fall back asleep, but she could
enjoy the rest.  The days where she didn't have to
jump out of bed and save Mulder's ass or get right up
and go to work were few and far between.  She couldn't
remember the last time she'd slept in late, spent the
day in bed, reading the paper or watching TV, or
reading a book.

 She wondered if it would be like that with Mulder,
 sleeping in on
the weekends, doing the Sunday crosswords, with a
small red haired hazel eyed little girl sleeping
soundly between them and a brown haired blue eyed
little boy playing at the foot of the bed.  She rolled
over to her other side and frowned.  She couldn't have
children.  Unless they adopted, assuming that they
ever made it to the altar and that she could either
persuade Mulder to be married in a Catholic ceremony
or convince her family to let her not have a church
wedding, there would never be any children in her
future.  She was in the middle of sighing unhappily
when the door blew open and Mulder tripped back
inside.

 He was on his knees barely having managed to close
 the door behind
him.  Coughing and sputtering like an old car engine,
he pushed the hair out of his eyes.  St. Scully
appeared before him then, holding an armful of towels,
telling him she'd started the shower, and that the
water was hot.  The weather had taken a turn for the
worse on his way back and his legs had been half
covered with mud.  But that was before he stumbled
over a rock and fell face first into the sandy mud. 
It was not something he wanted to taste ever again. 
If that wasn't enough, on his way down, his leg had
connected painfully with the rock and he knew before
he saw it that it would be black and blue.  He crawled
into the bathroom, leaving a twenty foot streak of mud
behind him and climbed in the bath tub, fully clothed.
 He didn't bother to take of his clothes or shut the
door. Scully peered in worriedly, finally deciding to
follow him and make sure he was all right.

 She reached for the hem of his jacket, pulling it up
 and over his
head without so much as a word from Mulder.  He
dropped his mud splattered face onto her clean white
robe, burrowing into her neck and moaning.  But it
wasn't a happy moan.  It was the moan of a soaking wet
hurt cold unhappy man who was too embarrassed to admit
to having done something stupid.  She gently lifted
his face up, holding it in both of her hands.

 "Are you all right, Mulder?  What happened?"

 He grimaced and wiped some mud off his lips, but
 never moved away
from her hands.  "I tripped."

 She pressed her lips into a thin line.  He knew she
 wasn't
pleased.  "What the hell possessed you to go out
today?"

 He shrugged and smiled.  "The spirit of the great god
 of rain."
She shook her head, switching the controls to run the
water for a bath instead of a shower.

 She put the stopper in, leaving him to undress
 himself.  "I trust
you won't drown if I leave?"

 He leered at her, but the effect was lost since most
 of his
features were disguised in the mud mask.  "I'd rather
you stay."

 She pulled the door shut behind her.  "Tease."

 She could heard him laugh from the other room.  The
 mud streak on
the floor caught her attention.  She picked up the
phone to call housekeeping, to demand that someone
remove the offensive stain, but the line was dead. 
She shivered, looking around the dark room, dark
regardless of the lights that were turned on.  It was
the perfect sort of day to watch a deliciously scary
movie.  And she even had someone to tease her when she
screamed at the intense parts and make her feel
better.  She wandered into the kitchen area,
scrounging around until she found popcorn. It was a
perfectly despicable breakfast, and therefore, the
perfect vacation food.

 Unfortunately, a thorough search of the room revealed
 no movies
with any sort of plot and the popcorn smelled so good
that it was long gone before Mulder stumbled out of
the bathroom in his robe.  She looked at him, took in
the pink heart logo on the robe and burst out
laughing. It was about the funniest thing she'd seen
in a long time.

 He let her laugh at him, choosing only to shoot a
 glare at her
rather than mention it.  He grabbed some clean clothes
and disappeared back into the bathroom to change.  She
used that time to get dressed herself, pulling on
jeans and a light sweater because of the chill from
the rain.  He reappeared a few minutes later, leaving
them with the question of what to do.  They looked at
each other for a while, uncomfortable with having no
options of escape, should the need arise.  

 "The phone's dead."  Scully offered helpfully, hoping
 that a
conversation might break out.

 "Yeah, it's a pretty bad storm."  They returned to
 dead silence
then.  Scully sighed, having made her attempt to start
a conversation.  He pulled open the bottom drawer,
pushing the seduction game aside because that game had
not developed well.  He lifted out the twister game
and looked at it.  Seemed pretty simple.  Maybe they
could change the rules. "Hey, Scully."  It was
unnecessary since she was still standing there staring
at him.  "Want to try this?"

 She regarded him uncertainly and then nodded.  "OK,
 what are the
rules?"

 "Same as regular, but every time a person messes up,
 they have to
lose and article of clothing."  He spread the mat out
on the floor, gazing intently at the colorful pattern
of circles.  He wasn't the most flexible person.  This
game could prove to be one of the more embarrassing
experiences of his life and there was some major
competition for that title on this trip.  "We could
take that part out?"  He tried to hide the hopeful
tone in his voice.  He was sure being 5'2" would be an
advantage in a game of twister.

 "No, let's play by the rules."  She screwed up her
 face for a
moment, looking at her outfit.  "Can I put on some
more clothes?"

 Mulder grinned, feeling how uncomfortable she was
 too.  Maybe he
would have the advantage.  Besides, he could stand to
lose more clothing before utter embarrassment set in. 
"Nope.  It's in the rule book: no players may don
additionally clothing for the purposes of play."

 She narrowed her eyes at him.  "Are you sure it says
 that,
Mulder?"  Her voice gave away how very much she didn't
believe him.  He just smiled and set the spinner on
the floor.  "OK, then, let's play."

 He flicked his finger at the spinner.  "Right foot
 red."

 And so it began, they started on opposite ends of the
 mat,
eventually getting more and more tangled up, slowly
becoming untangled. After almost an hour, Scully was
bent backwards, supported by her arms, and Mulder was
stretched out over top of her.  Their faces were
almost touching.  Both were red from the physical
aspect of the game, but both remained fully clothed,
not so much as a sock had been removed.  They stared
at each other, the inanity of the game making them
both start to laugh.

 "Scully?"  With their faces inches apart, he barely
 had to
whisper.

 Her eyes darted to his lips.  He was going to kiss
 her, she knew
it.  "Yes?"  Her voice was a whisper too.

 He smiled softly at her.  "We must be the two most
 flexible people
on earth."

 She started to smile, slightly let down over the fact
 that it had
been another false alarm. Damn the man and his
heartfelt promises.  She was ready to make her
decision right then.  She shifted her hand on the mat,
allowing her fingers to feel the now familiar shape of
the ring.  "Do you think they have some sort of
Twister competition?  Maybe we could win a prize..."

 He started to grin.  "I'm determined to win this
 game, Scully."  

 Scully groaned.  Her muscles were starting to protest
 the strain.
"Come on, we're going to break something before either
one of us loses our balance."

 "We suck, Scully."

 Her professional mask settled on her face, the
 regular tone
evening out the playful inflections in her voice. 
"I'm sorry?"  The same tone she would have used if
Skinner had told her that she was fired.

 He smiled again.  "The one game in the world that you
 want to
lose..."  She saw his point and started to smile.  "We
can't even lose right."  Scully laughed outright,
relaxing when she realized he was just joking.  "It's
not funny, Scully.  I'm going to win this game."

 "How so?  I'm not giving up."  She could put up with
 the strain on
her arms a little longer.

 "I'll cheat."  He moved one of his hands, a flagrant
 infringement
on the rules of the game.  She felt him tugging on her
sweater, sliding his hands up underneath.  She took a
deep breath, knowing she was not exactly ready to
stave off the sensory overload.  But then his fingers
moved to her side, an evil grin taking over his
features.  By the time she realized what he was doing,
it was too late to stop him.  He continued to tickle
her, resting a good portion of his weight on her to
free up his hand.   With her arms behind her, there
was no way she could shift her weight enough to let
her move her hands.  After a few minutes, though, she
was gasping for breath, completely unable to stop
laughing.  Her stomach hurt from laughing and not
breathing.  She moved one hand, trying to shift her
weight and not fall.  But she was off balance and both
of them tumbled to the ground.

 They landed in a tangled pile of arms and legs on the
 plastic mat,
their sock clad feet offering no resistance on the
game board to stop their fall.  Mulder was keenly
aware of the fact that his knee hurt, as did the leg
he'd injured earlier when he fell.  But he was
concerned for Scully.  He'd come down directly on top
of her.

 He lifted his face off her hair.  "Scully?  Are you
 all right?"

 She was still trying to breathe from the tickle
 attack, and the
arm that had tried to hold her up was throbbing
painfully.  But she was fine.  "Cheater."  She
playfully pushed him to the side and attempted to
crawl out from under him. "You forfeit."

 He dropped his arms down to either side of her,
 holding her in
place.  "But you're the one who fell."  She didn't say
anything, giving him a look that warned him not to
argue with her.  She had declared herself the winner. 
Seeing things had worked out like he planned, he
dropped his face back down, nuzzling the side of her
face and neck.  She obediently turned away slightly,
allowing him better access.  Even with her permission
to break his promise, it didn't feel right.  He pulled
back, looking at her, sucked in completely by the
desire in her eyes.  She groaned softly when he
removed his lips and he felt so guilty for driving her
to make that unhappy noise that he immediately put his
lips back against her neck, shifting his body into a
more comfortable position, completely pressed against
hers.  She moaned again, this time in pleasure.

 The lights flashed once, twice, three times, and then
 went out
completely, leaving them in total darkness.

End of part 22.  Comments: jzyvarek@udel.edu,
eponine119@att.net

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

Truth
part 23
by eponine119  & Jessica Zyvarek Taylor
eponine119@att.net, jzyvarek@udel.edu


 "Mulder?"  Scully's voice coincided with her body
 clutching around
him - her hands, her arms, her legs.  He sucked in a
deep breath, wishing he could have caused such a
reaction without the help of the storm.
 "It's just the storm," he said with a jollyness in
 his tone that he really
didn't feel with her wrapped so tightly around him. 
He wanted her completely.  But he could feel the tiny
but incredibly strong beat of her heart against his
chest, fast with fear.  He knew it was fear rather
than excitement. He couldn't take advantage of that.
 Lightning flashed blindingly, and thunder boomed
 directly over their
heads.  Scully shuddered and Mulder could feel her
breath coming fast and shallow.  She was really
afraid, he marveled.  With his arms, he pushed himself
to look into her eyes since he was no longer kissing
her neck and indeed, no longer felt welcome to do so. 
He didn't notice that this pressed his lower body
closer against hers, but Scully did.
 She didn't meet his eyes.  She gave a little groan
 and took advantage of
the clearance space to roll onto her side, drawing her
knees up into her chest protectively and wrapping her
arms around.  Mulder knew that position.  It was
protection.  Because he wasn't doing it. Is this what
having your heart ripped out feeling like? he
wondered.
 He sat next to her and placed his hand against her
 back, wishing to
comfort her and not knowing how because he didn't know
what was wrong. She took a deep breath and said, "This
is how it always begins."
 "What begins?" he asked, wanting desperately to
 understand what had
the fearless Scully terrified.
 "The dreams."  Her voice almost broke.  He didn't
 know what to say,
so he waited.  She spoke again finally.  "Ever since I
was a kid, storms meant bad things to me.  Not rain,
not regular storms, but powers-out, thunder and
lightning storms that leave it dark and you
defenseless.  That's always been with me.  You know
that my father used to read to me from Moby Dick when
I was a little girl and I called him Ahab and he
called me Starbuck.  There's a terrible storm at the
end of the book, and Ahab is lost at sea.  Still
relentlessly pursuing his goal, willing to face even
death.  He didn't care about anything but that one
pulsing need inside him.  Then, when I was small, it
made me afraid for my father when he went to sea. 
What if he saw a white whale like Ahab and cared more
about it than me?  And, along the way, there have been
others.  Other men."
 She didn't have to say "other men fixed
 wholeheartedly on their goal,
blinding them to the world and to me."  Mulder knew. 
He knew she was talking about him.  That made him
almost wish that she had said it, because then he
would have been able to answer to her fear once and
for all.  He could promise never to leave her.  Or
could he?  He didn't make promises he didn't know if
he could keep.  And he didn't know if he could keep
it.  That put real fear into his bones.
 Scully had relaxed.  By thinking about her fear, it
 had dissolved from
her unconscious into her conscious mind.  The storm
was beginning to fade into the distance, as well.  She
rolled onto her back and stretched her legs and her
back, seeming to lengthen in a lithe way like a cat. 
A sexy cat, Mulder thought, unable to take his eyes
from the outline of her body in the darkness. She
smiled up at him and he waited to see if she would
purr.
 God, he wanted to make her purr.
 "You're safe," he promised, placing his hands on her
 waist and
drawing her closer to him.  Insinuating his legs
between her thighs, he lowered himself so he was
laying over her, tantalizingly close.  Then he bent
his head and pushed her shirt up, nuzzling the
intriguingly warm skin of her stomach.
 Scully flinched, surprised by the touch, and raised
 her head, looking at
him and what he was doing.  After a moment, she closed
her eyes and let her neck relax, allowing herself to
sink back onto the carpet.  She put her hand on the
back of his head and said, "What are you doing?"
 "I adore your body, Scully," Mulder said with the
 reverence of a man
in a temple.  "All of it."
 You're kissing the wrong part, she thought, feeling a
 vast dark
emptiness in places that would have better served by
his mouth.  His hands moved higher than his head,
pushing her shirt up farther and pressing against her
ribs.  Close to her breasts, but not close enough.  He
is either the foreplay king, Scully thought, or he has
no idea what he's doing.
 "Let's do it in the dark," she whispered.
 Mulder froze.  Hands, mouth, body, everything that
 wasn't already stiff
became that way in response to one murmured phase. 
"Do what?" he asked and it struck him as comical,
because he knew what he thought she was asking and he
was certain he was the only man on earth who had to
ask to make sure they were both on the same playing
field.
 "Play Twister, what did you think I was talking
 about?" Scully said
and pushed herself up.  "You don't want to walk away a
loser, do you?" she taunted, taking up a stance on the
game board.
 "No, Scully, I'm determined to win," he insisted,
 even more
determined than he had been before.  The game began
anew, and the darkness added another dimension to it,
an aspect that would have been like the junior high
school party game "Seven Minutes in Heaven" if it
hadn't been so sensual.  Their bodies moved against
each other in almost a sensual, tribal rhythm.  They
were like dancers on a stage, perfectly choreographed.
 Mulder was right, they were too good at this game,
 Scully thought,
wondering if she should think about forfeiting it. 
She could fake a fall.  It wouldn't be hard.  She'd
just have to allow herself to become slightly more
distracted by his proximity than she already was.  But
she wasn't certain she wanted to be the one to
disrobe. Mulder was the model of self control so far
on this trip, and it was becoming the most painful
thing she'd ever experienced in her entire life.  In
addition to the physical longing for his body, she had
to constantly wonder how it was that Mulder had
developed such amazing reserve.  Mulder was constantly
like a child at Christmas - he couldn't wait for
anything.  His waiting for her had to be because he
didn't really want her.  So she tried to think of a
way to make him lose, so she could jump him.  She was
getting tired of this game.  It was a workout, all
those contortions...
 Mulder was having similar thoughts. A good accidental
 shove would
make her fall, he thought.  Or he could trip her.  He
knew such thoughts were wrong.  He knew he shouldn't
think of her that way, that he shouldn't be working so
hard to get her clothes off, because she would take
them off when she was good and ready and he had
decided to leave this in her hands, hadn't he?  He
polled himself. He had.  So wait it was, he knew.  His
arms were growing weary of supporting his weight and
his back ached.  He was no longer the spry young
fellow he once pretended to be and a glance at the
clock told him why: it had been almost an hour since
their last break, the one during which he'd wanted to
make her purr.  That was going to be his lifelong
goal, he thought, and wondered how to achieve it. 
Quickly.
 The lights came back on.  Even though the worst of
 the storm had
passed, the rain had continued to beat down and kept
the sunlight away. Mulder groaned at the sudden
brightness and Scully used the opportunity to sink
gratefully to the floor.  Mulder raised his head as
though she'd done something terribly interesting.  His
eyes were on her, questioning: had she forfeited? 
What would she remove?
 "I'm tired," she said simply.  "This isn't turning
 out the way we thought
it would."
 That could be said of so many things, Mulder thought
 woefully.  He
watched as she picked up her light jacket from the
chair it was slung over. "Where are you going?" he
asked.  He knew he should get up and go with her, but
he couldn't. He couldn't get up.  He was tired too. 
First the running, and the falling down, and now
this...he needed a nap.  Too bad he couldn't reach the
remote control to turn on the TV to lull him to sleep.
 "I've been with you all day every day for almost a
 week, Mulder,"
Scully said. "Amazing as that may seem, nice as it's
been, I think I need some time to myself."
 "In the rain," he said in a flat voice.
 "I'll be back soon," she vowed and he heard the door
 bang shut.
Mulder groaned, a long and painful sound, wondering
what he had done wrong this time.  It had to have been
something.  Now he couldn't even figure out what it
had been.  Scully understood him so well - why did he
not understand her at all?
 Scully knew Mulder wouldn't understand.  It was her
 first thought as
she left their little cabin and ventured out into the
gentle rain.  It felt good, beating cool but not cold
down on her face and hair and body.  It was so wet and
fresh and its sound was so soothing.  The perfect day
for a walk.  The perfect time for a walk.  Mulder
wasn't responding to anything.  She needed time to
plan.
 He couldn't reach the remote from where he was lying
 on the floor. 
Telling himself it was laziness rather than an
inability to get up, Mulder tried to propel himself
across the floor with his legs.  All that got him was
a carpet burn on the back of his neck, and he could
think of several better ways to get a carpet burn.  So
he decided to forget the remote.  Forget the nap.  He
didn't need sleep.  He was Mulder.
 He also didn't need the time to think, as it turned
 out, because every
time he began to do so, his mind reeled back through
their excruciatingly long games of Twister.  That idea
was a real success, he thought as he raised his knees
and felt the pure pleasure of his spine straight
against the floor.  The only game left in the drawer
was Battleship.  Mulder knew at this point, was
perfectly certain and had accepted it as an
inevitability, that they would play Battleship. He
tried to think of a way to make it more enjoyable.
Because if he didn't add some element of seduction to
it, he knew he was going to be in for a long session
of "Captain Scully's travels" stories.  He knew Scully
had loved her father very much.  But she hadn't been
married to the man, for god's sake!
 Scully walked and walked and walked.  She didn't
 think so much as
just stare out at the waves crashing against the shore
with their leisurely pace. They were higher due to the
storm out over the ocean.  Some debris was cast up
onto the beach, but not much.  The wind whipped her
damp hair about her face and blew her wet clothes
against her, chilling her, but she didn't care.  It
felt good. More than anything, it felt alive.
 Alive in a big, open way instead of a close, dark
 smothering way.  She
also felt alive when Mulder was lying against her,
whether on the floor or in the bed they'd shared so
carefully and platonically since the trip had begun.
But that wasn't like the rain.  The rain infused her
soul and saturated her body. Nothing could stop it. 
Whereas she and Mulder had hit all kinds of snags. She
knew she would feel more alive and excited if Mulder
would simply do a few specific things.
 He could kiss her for starters.  She was never going
 to believe that he
wanted her, as a woman or as a wife, until she felt
his lips, on hers, pressed tight, kissing her,
touching his tongue to hers so she could taste him
and...
 She groaned, right there on the beach.  Looking
 around quickly as she
wet her lips, she was relieved that only the seagull
overhead could have heard her.  If thinking about
Mulder could bother her so greatly, what would happen
if he ever did bother to touch her properly, none of
this silly nuzzling and caressing stuff.  Not that she
disenjoyed those moves.  She just wished he would
expand into a more traditional market.  His hands led
her to believe he would be a phenomenal lover.
 But she wouldn't know for certain until she kissed
 him. Until *he*
kissed *her,* rather, since she was not going to make
any more moves until he did.  If he wasn't playing,
neither would she.  Nothing would tell her more about
his lovemaking than kissing him.  Well, besides
lovemaking, obviously.
 At least I have my fantasies, she thought, setting
 her lips determinedly
as she turned around and reversed her path back to the
cabin.
 Mulder was having a dream.  It was vivid, though, and
 the colors were
odd.  It seemed to be more of a flashback to his
childhood.  He could feel his body, thin and wiry the
way he had been before he'd become a man.  He
recognized the house - the one on Quonochontaug, where
they had never returned after his sister's abduction,
although the house had never been sold. She hadn't
been abducted from there, but for some reason, the
house was mixed up with the memory in his mind.  If
he'd given it any thought, it would have made him
question the validity of any of his alien-abduction
scenario memories.  But he never thought of that.
 He had, in the past, been aware that the Cigarette
 Smoking Man had
known his parents, had spent time with them.  Mr. X
had implied, before his unfortunate death that had led
the landlord in Mulder's apartment to carpet the
hallway to disguise the terrible, inconvenient
bloodstains, that his mother and the CS-Man had known
each other better than he and Scully did, though not
for lack of trying on his part.  The fact that his
mother whacked him when he asked her about it was
considered a clue by Mulder.
 Regardless, in this dream, there was another man
 there with the
Smoking Man and his father as Mulder leaned over the
loft high above the seventies style living room.  Even
though he was looking down on them, he could see the
man's face clearly. It was round, and red, and he
didn't have any hair except a small bit of yellowish
orange fluff.  The man was wearing a full dress
uniform of the military, white and starched with brass
buttons and lots of insignia.  Mulder heard his father
call the man,  "Captain."
 Scully's father was a captain, Mulder thought in the
 dream, which was
odd in itself because when he was twelve, he hadn't
known  Scully.
 A hand on his shoulder roused him.  He opened his
 eyes a moment
before he realized he was awake.  He found himself
focused on Scully's face, her blue eyes worried, her
hair dark with rain.  He realized what had been weird
about the dream.  Not that he had possibly remembered
that Scully's father had been involved with the
terrible Project his father had run and sacrificed his
daughter to.  It wasn't that at all; Mulder had
practically forgotten that detail already.  It was
that the dream had been a memory from before he'd
fallen colorblind. He'd been able to see strong red
and greens.
 "I wish you were in my dream," he said sleepily,
 gazing at his lovely
partner.
 "Mulder, what are you doing on the floor?" Scully
 asked. "Back hurt," he replied smoothly.  "Don't you
 want to know why I wish
you'd been in my dream, Scully?" he asked, still
staring at her.
 "Am I sure you want to tell me?" she asked warily.
 "I'd have been able to see your hair," he said and
 reached up to grab a
handful of it.  It wasn't like silk, he found. It was
wet and rather tangled and her head jerked as he tried
to run his fingers through it because it was snarled
from the weather outside.  "Your beautiful red hair,
that through the fact that I can't see red or green, I
can't appreciate."
 Scully looked at him like he was delusional.  Or else
 she was deciding
she was going to have to cut his fingers from her
hair, he hadn't decided what that look meant. 
"Mulder, you can't be in the FBI if you're
colorblind."
 "Don't ask, don't tell," he said mildly, a phrase she
 was uncomfortable
with, considering that she wanted to drag him outside
and screw him in the rain with the hard packed sand
against her back.
 She frowned.  "Where does your back hurt, Mulder,"
 she asked, trying
to get at it, but he wouldn't budge an inch from the
floor.
 "Everywhere," he said and there was a studied note of
 pain in his
voice.  His eyes almost seemed to well with tears as
he straightened his legs and let his back sway
naturally again.  "Would you walk on my back, Scully?"
he asked.
 "I - uh - no, I don't think I -"
 Mulder rolled over onto his stomach, presenting his
 back to her.  That
back included his gorgeous, perfectly rounded ass. 
She wanted to fill her hands with it.  That would get
his attention, she thought.  "You won't hurt me," he
promised.
 "This has absolutely no medical value whatsoever,"
 she informed him,
already preparing to step up onto his delicate
composition of flesh and muscle.  She didn't warn him
that her feet were damp and sandy as she stepped up,
pressing her foot down bit by bit against his spine
and hearing it crack.
 He sighed deeply as she listened to more vertebra
 pop.  She tried to dig
in her toes as sort of a massage, but it didn't really
work.  "Your clothes are dirty now," she said as she
moved off of him.
 "What do you suggest I do about that?" he asked, now
 finding the will
and the power to sit up.
 "Take them off," she said, reminding herself of her
 promise to herself
not to make a move on him until he kissed her.  That
was the price he was going to have to pay if he wanted
anything.  She'd made up her mind. If he didn't kiss
her, she would give both the beautiful emerald
engagement ring and the timeworn traditional ring back
to him. Doing so would hurt her terribly, but she was
a woman and a Scully, and she did have her pride.
 He shot her a tigerish look.  "Okay," he said, moving
 to do as she'd
said, thinking they were finally getting somewhere. 
All bets are off, he thought.  He was right about
that, but he didn't know what Scully had in mind,
either.
 Just as she didn't know that he'd come to the
 decision that he wasn't
going to leave her side - not for a second - until she
kissed him.

End of part 23.  Comments: eponine119@att.net,
jzyvarek@udel.edu

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

Truth
Part 24
by Jessica Zyvarek Taylor & eponine119 
jzyvarek@udel.edu, eponine119@att.net


 Mulder sat up, enjoying the fact that his back was
 once again
relatively pain free, cracking his neck along the way,
making Scully cringe.  He climbed up onto the bed,
crossing his legs Indian style and propping his face
up on his hands.  "So, what now?"

 Scully settled across from him.  "I don't know." 
 Dead silence
reigned.  It wasn't their usual comfortable silence
and it was driving her mad.  "So, what was your dream
about, since it wasn't about me?"

 He shrugged.  He knew Captain Scully had only been
 there because
he'd been thinking about him.  He didn't feel
comfortable about telling her anyway.  "I don't
remember it really."

 She raised an eyebrow.  "But you remembered that I
 wasn't in it."

 He drug his eyes over her body slowly, in fact, the
 best leer he'd
given her the whole trip.  "I always remember my
dreams about you."  

 A flush rushed into her cheeks, forcing her to stand
 and hide her
face from him.  She opened the door and glanced
outside.  "The rain's slowing up.  Want to go into the
town?  Maybe get something to eat?"

 He smiled.  "I'm starving, Scully."  His stomach
 growled in
agreement as he stood up to join her.

 She pulled out a brush, intent on fixing the tangles,
 but he
pulled it out of her hands.  "Hey!  Give it back!"

 He didn't say anything, just prodded her back toward
 the bed.  He
sat down, pulling her to sit on the edge, right
between his legs.  Once they were settled, he began to
brush her hair, gently working out the tangles.  She
closed her eyes and leaned back.  There was nothing
that felt as good as having someone play with her
hair.  Well, nothing else that Mulder appeared to have
any plans to do.  A moment later, though, the
hairbrush dropped onto the bed.  He wrapped his arms
around her, giving her a tight hug and pressing his
face into her hair.

 She prepared for him to tease her a little more, but
 he didn't.
He pushed them both forward, keeping a tight hold on
her so she didn't fall when he stood up.  As soon as
she gained her balance, he let go, holding his arm out
to her.  She took his arm, grabbed an umbrella and
stepped out the door.

 She'd been waiting for them, they knew it.  Bekkie
 was smiling,
the gleaming smile enough to light the entire resort
when the power had gone out.  She was in the standard
blue skirt and white shirt, but she'd pulled on a navy
and white jacket and had her happy little ponytail
sticking out the back of her hat. 

 "There you are!"  She bounced up to them, ignoring
 their open
mouthed unhappy faces.  "I haven't laid eyes on you
the whole time so far!"

 Scully looked up at Mulder.  "Oh, geez, we're sorry."
  Her tone
was sweet and high and only Mulder knew it was fake.

 Bekkie took Scully's free arm and tried to lead them
 toward the
main building.  "Oh, don't worry about it, it is your
honeymoon."  Bekkie winked knowingly at her.  "We're
so sorry about the power outage and the phones and
all, but everything's back up and we want everyone to
come on in.  We're going to serve everyone a free
dinner and they'll be dancing and..."

 Mulder let go of Scully's arm momentarily, just long
 enough to
detach the parasitic leech.  "Thanks, Bekkie, but we
have plans.  Bye." He started walking away.

 "Oh, but wait!  Are you guys joining any of our
 sessions or
lectures?  We've got some great lectures on..." 
Bekkie's voice trailed off as Mulder and Scully walked
away.  

 Scully leaned against Mulder's arm while they walked.
  "Thanks.  I
don't think I could stomach any more relationship
counseling for a while."  

 He moved his arm, lacing their fingers together
 instead.  He loved
the way it felt to be so close to her, to have her
openly demonstrate her feelings.  "I think we're
managing pretty well."

 She lifted her head and smiled.  "Yeah, yeah we are."

 The bad weather must have gotten to most of the
 visitors on the
island, because it appeared that everyone was in the
town.  There were wall to wall people in every
direction and it appeared most of them were headed
towards the restaurant.  Mulder ducked into the first
store he could get to, sighing happily to have escaped
the mob.  He didn't know it was the boutique that
Scully had spent a great deal of money in.

 Elizabeth waddled over.  "Oh, Dana! Hello again!  How
 are you?"
Scully smiled and nodded, hoping that Elizabeth would
waddle away.  No such luck.  "Dana, are you going to
introduce me?"

 Scully let go of Mulder's hand and motioned toward
 Elizabeth.
"This is Elizabeth.  This is Fox."  She watched them
shake hands, knowing Mulder's eyes were questioning
how she knew Elizabeth.  Elizabeth took hold of
Mulder's hand and led him off, talking excitedly about
whatever. Scully moved away to look through the racks,
seeing nothing she wanted.  

 Ten minutes later, Mulder grabbed her arm and bolted
 for the door.
Instinct sent her running with him, knowing she could
ask later.  As soon as they were outside, he slowed. 
"Mulder?"

 He shrugged.  "I had to get out of there.  She wanted
 me to buy
things.  All kinds of things.  In fact, I think she
expected me to buy the whole store."

 "Yeah, she has that way.  She talked me into dropping
 way too
much.  So, are you still hungry?"  The crowds had died
down a little, but there was still a large group
around the restaurant.  

 "Yes.  I'm still starving."  He motioned toward the
 overflowing
restaurant.  "But even if we get in there, the service
will be horrible and it'll take forever."

 Mulder sacrificing food for quality service?  "Who
 are you and
what have you done with my Mulder?"  Mulder lived to
scrounge up crap in dinky roadside dinners with dirty
dishes and bad food.

 He stopped and looked at her, a pensive expression
 settling in.
"Your Mulder?"  There was a teasing lilt to his voice
and it made her smile.

 She squeezed his hand quickly, then let go and slid
 her arm around
his waist.  "My Mulder."  She raised an eyebrow at
him.  "Unless you'd like to be my Fox."

 He draped his arm around her shoulder and steered her
 back towards
the hotel.  "I'd like to be your anything."  She
leaned against him and they walked back in silence. 
When they reached the end of the path, Mulder turned
and headed to the main building, not their cabin. 
"Um? What are you doing?"

 "Two words, Scully:  free food."  He pushed open the
 door, holding
it for her, gently maneuvering his hand onto the small
of her back.

 The place was decorated beautifully, everything going
 well with
the navy and white nautical theme of the employees'
uniforms.  Scully was sure that if the staff was to
lean against the walls, they'd blend right in.  She
was right, as it turns out, because Bekkie surfaced
right in front of them.

 "I'm so glad you made it!  The dining room is this
 way!"  Every
syllable that came out of Bekkie's mouth was an
exclamation.  She was an exhausting person to listen
to.  She led them into a large room, tables pushed
closely together, giving Scully the impression that
more people had shown up than were expected.  Bekkie
dropped menus onto the table in the center of the
room.  Scully grimaced, missing the privacy they'd
been enjoying.

 "Bekkie?"  Mulder's voice was soft and Scully knew he
 was about to
wheedle his way into a better table.  He had that
magic, magnetic quality around women, no matter their
age, he could always get his way and leave the woman
glad to have given it to him.  "This is a wonderful
table, but Dana and I would appreciate something maybe
just a little more private. Do you have anything else?
 Maybe with some candles?"  Scully hadn't realized it
before he said something, but the room was lit with
overheard lighting.  Bright, conference room, or group
session, lighting. Irritating lighting.

 Bekkie's smile faltered slightly.  "Uh, hold on, just
 one second."
They stood in the middle of the room as Bekkie walked
over to a tall, heavyset man. He was also in navy and
white, but his sweater and dress pants gave him away
as a manger of some sort.  He nodded at Bekkie,
followed her pointed finger to Mulder and Scully, and
then tapped her on the shoulder and sent her in a
different direction.  Then he approached the couple in
the middle of the room.

 "I understand you're looking for a bit more privacy?"
  His tone
was flat and even.  Neither of them could read him.

 Mulder was ready to scamper out of the room with his
 tail between
his legs.  He was afraid of bullies.  Scully stepped
forward though, her business face back on.  "Yes, sir,
we would appreciate a little more space and privacy. 
We are on our honeymoon after all."

 The man stepped back, signaling to two of the boys. 
 Then
extending his hand to Scully first, then Mulder.  "I'm
Bob Minner, manager of the Wedded Bliss Resort and our
aim is to provide you with whatever you require to
have an enjoyable time."

 Mulder and Scully watched, shocked, as the two boys
 hoisted the
table over their heads and marched out of the dining
room.  Two other boys followed the first group,
carrying the chairs.  Bob cleared his throat and spoke
again.  "We've got a great place for you, complete
with the candles you requested.  If you'll just follow
me..."

 They followed and were lead into a small alcove off
 the main
dining room.  They had a perfect view of the beach,
soft romantic music was playing, and the table was
already set and adorned with flowers and candles. 
Scully just smiled, amazed at how easily their goal
had been accomplished.  Bob pulled out a chair for
Scully.  She accepted it gracefully and allowed him to
push her back into the table.  Mulder sat in the chair
across from her, smiling at the realization that
candlelight made her look even more beautiful.  

 There were no other people in the room, except for
 the kind woman
who served them with the utmost care and attention. 
She had perfect timing, not interrupting once, still
bringing them their food while it was hot and keeping
their wine glasses full.  She didn't hover nor did she
bother them with clearing the table when they stood up
to dance.  Over an hour later, after spending a great
deal too long staring into each other's eyes while
dancing closely, they backed apart and wanted to
leave. The waitress reappeared at exactly the right
moment, refusing to let them tip her, and ushering
them out the door.

 The rain had stopped while they were eating and the
 ground had
miraculously changed from the sandy mud back into
sand.  They walked slowly, knowing what frustration
would greet them when they returned to their room. 
Their hands were still linked, as they had been most
of the evening.

 "Let's go for a walk on the beach, Mulder."  She
 waited for a
response, not wanting to make him do anything unless
he wanted.

 "OK."  Anything, he'd agree to anything so long as he
 was attached
to her.  That was all that mattered to him.  He led
her down the path to the beach, walking right up to
the water line and then turning to walk up the beach. 
She smiled and followed his lead, hoping that a
romantic stroll on the beach, following that intensely
romantic dinner and dancing, might actually do the
trick and make him kiss her.  It would be such a shame
to waste all that wine and candlelight.

End of part 24.  Comments: jzyvarek@udel.edu,
eponine119@att.net

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

Truth
part 25
by eponine119  & Jessica Zyvarek Taylor
eponine119@att.net, jzyvarek@udel.edu


 Mulder sighed.  This would be the perfect time to
 lean over and ever
so gently press his lips to hers.  The sand, the
moonlight, the ocean, the gentle breeze, all of the
conditions were ideal. Her fingers would dig into his
shirt as she clung to him.  They'd end up rolling
about in the sand.  He looked at her. She looked like
she wanted him to kiss her.  But as he had well
learned already, he couldn't judge Scully's thoughts
by the look on her face.  He had promised not to
pressure her, and he wouldn't.  "Guess we should head
back," he said softly.  The low tone to his voice
covered the sound of his disappointment in not being
able to kiss her.
 He was looking at the ground, so he didn't see the
 look on her face. 
Startled and upset, because she'd been so certain he
was finally going to do it. It's just a kiss, what's
the big deal, she tried to tell herself.  But it felt
like he didn't care about her.  It felt like an
emerald on her finger big enough to put someone's eye
out was a stand in for the things that would really be
important in a marriage.  So she turned with him to
walk back.
 Inside the main building, the guests who had been
 dining were sitting
in a large circle in the cleared-out conference room. 
For a second, Scully was worried they were having an
enormous seance, but then she saw what was in the
center of the circle.  An empty champagne bottle.
 Fifty or more honeymooning couples were playing spin
 the bottle. 
Another quick glance told her that no nautical-suited
Bekkie types were anywhere to be seen. Just the man
who was the manager of Wedded Bliss, looking nervous
and overwhelmed by the crowd he'd found himself in
charge of.
 Scully's hand tightened on Mulder's. "Mulder -"
 "Let's go before they see us," he completed her
 thought.  They turned
around, starting for the door, and came face to face
with Bekkie.  They were caught, and instantly began
trying to think of excuses to get out of whatever she
had planned out on her clipboard.
 "You're just in time!"  Bekkie cried happily.
 "For what?" asked Scully, dreading the answer.  Her
 list of excuses to
escape had disintegrated.  So had Mulder's.
 "Our best, most exciting seminar ever!" Her eyes
 sparkled.  "Mr.
Mulder, you stay here and Ms. Mulder, you come with
me."
 "Wait," said Mulder.  "It's a couples' seminar and
 you're splitting us
up?  How does that work?"
 "You'll see," Bekkie giggled and took Scully's hand
 from him.  They
shared a tormented look just before Bekkie dragged her
away into a neighboring conference room.  Scully sat
there alone, feeling uncomfortable, certain that if
she got up to make an attempt to leave, the door would
be open and she would be caught in the act by Bekkie,
her erstwhile jailer.  The door did open and a large
group of women entered, talking and laughing among
themselves. They were all tanned and looked to be in
robust health, while Scully knew that the fake tanning
cream she'd applied days earlier had begun to wear
through and show her regularly pale skin beneath.  
These women radiated sexuality - they were on their
honeymoons.  Scully crossed her legs, unwilling to
think about how long it had been since she'd had sex.
 A woman in a business suit and a casual,
 authoritative manner strolled
to the front of the room.  "Settle yourselves," she
told the women.  Scully thought it might be Bekkie's
mother.  Or perhaps the woman Bekkie would be if she
ever grew up.  A hush fell over the legion of women in
the conference room, and Scully looked at their faces.
 They looked as though they were waiting to have the
greatest mysteries of the natural world revealed to
them in a triumphant blaze of sisterhood.
 The last time Scully had been called into a room with
 a bunch of
women under similar circumstances, it had been in
third grade when Sister Clement had explained to them
in the cafeteria that very soon they would begin
bleeding monthly.  The elderly nun, who'd seemed quite
baffled about the scientific principles involved,
perhaps because she was a music teacher, had managed
to set almost half the class into hysterical tears. 
They'd prayed for almost an hour, and then been
released to go home early.
 Scully began to feel dread in her stomach.  The woman
 at the front of
the room showed no such tremors and began to speak. 
"My name is Lilith," she opened, "and this seminar is
going to tell you everything you ever will need to
know about male sexual desire."  She nodded to an
unseen person in the back of the room and the lights
dimmed.  A slide projector clicked on.  As the other
women giggled and made anticipatory sounds, Scully
groaned.
 This was not what she needed.
 On the screen was a badly drawn, anatomically correct
 figure of a
man.  "Most of us don't give any thought to the sexual
process," Lilith continued, picking up a long wooden
pointer and approaching the slide screen.  "Men want
us, and we respond to their overtures.  Most of us
learned some time ago what works and what doesn't. 
This seminar will take away some of the doubt you may
be experiencing as new brides, embarking upon a
lifelong relationship.  The era of the virgin bride is
over, but that doesn't mean there isn't a lot to be
learned."
 And I haven't even kissed him, Scully thought,
 wondering if there
would be a question and answer session or if she would
have to approach Lilith about this when class was
over.

xxx

 A man was teaching the class Mulder found himself in.
  None of the
men looked particularly thrilled to be there, except
for a thin geeky man with bad skin. Mulder wondered
what the class was about that the men would look like
they were being forced by their new wives to attend. 
Then the chiseled profiled man at the front of the
classroom addressed them.
 "My name is Roque, and I will be your instructor.
 You've all shown a
great deal of courage joining this class, I'd like to
say that up front.  Requested attendance can be seen
as an affront to manhood, but I'm sure we're all macho
enough to put that aside."  Wink wink, nod nod,
thought Mulder.  Roque - pronounced Rock, of course -
looked like a soap opera star and had a voice like a
cartoon character, ridiculously deep.  "But get out
your pencils, men, because we all have a lot to learn
about how to please a woman."
 A collective groan went through the room. Except from
 the geek who
looked like he'd never seen a woman before. Mulder
wondered what the man's wife looked like.  He also
wondered what he was doing taking a class on
lovemaking when he'd promised to give her time and
space.
 "I know you're all having the same thought: I've
 never had any
complaints before.  But at the same time, are any one
of you positively certain that she's never faked with
you before?" Roque asked.
 Mulder wanted to raise his hand, but being a smart
 ass would just draw
attention to him and he didn't think he wanted that. 
He was sure Scully's never faked with him before,
though.  He often wondered if she would ever get the
opportunity to do so in the future.
 He wondered what she was learning on the other side
 of the wall. "I can - and will - teach you the
 techniques that will guarantee she has
a screaming orgasm each and every time you do it,"
Roque continued.  "Please direct your attention to
this video..."
 I can't believe I'm stuck in a screaming orgasm
 class, Mulder thought,
trying not to snicker.  The video proved to be a real
challenge to his sense of humor.  He was expecting
something along the lines of the movies they showed in
drivers' ed, of terrible car accidents, only these
would be terrible examples of lovemaking.
 It turned out to be a woman with an obscene hand
 puppet.

xxx

 "One of the most important elements to a mind blowing
 sexual
encounter," Lilith told them, "is confidence.  Too
often, even in this day and age, a woman takes the
passive position, waiting for the man to initiate sex.
 It doesn't have to be this way.  What are some ways
to get his attention?"
 "Undress," said one woman.
 "Strip!" cried another, building on that suggestion.
 Scully wondered if she should be taking notes.
 "Do something he can't ignore."
 Like walk on his back, she wondered ironically.
 "These are all very good suggestions," Lilith said
 woodenly.  "But I
know one that works even better. Communication.  All
you have to do is say, 'Honey, I want you.'  That's
all it takes.  You all probably have your own
shorthand already.  Let me hear you say it, nice and
clear."
 "Honey I want you," Scully mumbled, her voice lost in
 the chorus of
other embarrassed mumbles.
 "Don't be shy," Lilith admonished.  "Be proud of your
 sexual nature. 
Just shout out your desire.  Don't be afraid to let it
go."
 The chorus grew louder.
 "Again!" Lilith cried, and they complied.  "Again! 
 Again!" Scully found herself getting into it,
 enjoying the anonymity of
shouting, her voice lost among the voice of so many
other women.  She imagined the freedom and courage to
say this to Mulder, to end their game playing and
doubt by just telling him what she wanted.  It felt
powerful. It felt good. It even felt a little sexual.
 She tried to imagine his face if she shouted it out:
 "Mulder, I want you
to fuck me!"
 The silence startled her.  Scully looked around
 quickly, feeling her
face turning a bright shade of scarlet. She hadn't
realized that they'd finished the exercise. She wanted
to melt into the floor.

xxx

 Sounds from the other side of the wall distracted the
 men from their
focus on the videotape.  Wondering what their wives
were learning on the other side of the wall was much
more interesting than learning the proper names and
techniques to identify various parts that were
sensitive on the female body, and what type of touch
they were sensitive to.  Mulder had been wondering if
there would be a test later, and if so, what would
happen to the men who didn't pass.
 That all shattered as they heard muffled, excited
 shouting coming from
the other room.  It sounded to Mulder like a cultish
exercise, the sort of thing evil religious leaders
made their new initees do to brainwash them.  That
made him feel chilled.  Brainwashing was a serious
matter, and since Scully didn't believe it worked,
that would make her more susceptible to it.
 What are they doing? he wondered.  He'd just assumed
 they were
learning about men and sex.  A short class, he'd have
guessed: always ready, always willing.  What else was
there to know?  Roque was apparently as intrigued as
he was, moving to the VCR and stopping the picture for
a moment.
 The mens' ears strained against the silence, waiting
 to hear something
come from next door, straining to pick their wife's
voice from the pack.
 Mulder didn't have any trouble.  He could have heard
 a pin drop when
he heard a shrill voice scream, "Mulder, I want you to
fuck me!"
 The men around him cringed and glued their eyes back
 to the video. 
Roque pressed the play button and they were once again
involved in the complexities of the responses of a
woman's body.  Mulder couldn't focus on it, for
obvious reasons.  That had been Scully.  And maybe she
had been participating in some sort of role playing -
he hoped it hadn't been a spontaneous shout - but he
didn't know what to make of it.  She hadn't screamed
that she wanted him to love her.  She wanted him to
*fuck* her. Did he mean so little to her?  Was his
physical self the only one she wanted?  The thought
disturbed him greatly.

xxx

 "Next, we're going to learn how to get men to slow
 down and focus on
*us,*" Lilith continued.  "We're going to practice
telling a man specifically what it is we like. 
Usually this is another group exercise to keep down
the embarrassment factor, but -"  She looked at Scully
and Scully slid down farther in her chair.  "Perhaps
we'll go around the room instead."
 Scully didn't want to hear what these couples had
 been doing for the
last several days in their explorations of each other.
 She didn't want to hear what each women liked the
best.  She thought this was terrible idea, and she
wished it would end.  Quick.

xxx

 The video ended. Mulder was a little worried about
 what he might
hear from the other room in the ensuing silence, but
the women were as quiet as the men were.  He looked at
his fellow students and saw that they looked either
lost in thought or confused. Brows were furrowed
across the room. Making plans for the evening
probably, Mulder thought, wondering what he would be
doing that evening. Playing Battleship or watching
television.  Both such tempting choices, he thought
wryly.
 "Now for the hands on part," Roque told them and
 Mulder raised his
eyebrows.  Roque went out of the room and Mulder hoped
against hope that he would return with the group of
women.  He didn't want their first real caresses to be
in such a public forum, but maybe this is what they
needed, Mulder thought.  To be made to touch each
other.  To be made to grow closer, to expand their
relationship to the next plane.
 Roque returned with a bag of tomatoes.  He placed two
 on the desk of
each man.  "Many women's greatest complaints are that
men don't know their own strength.  This is often
difficult for men to come to terms with, that they
squeeze too hard or are too rough. That's where these
come in." He grinned and held up a tomato.  "We're
gonna practice."
 Mulder wondered what would happen if he got up and
 walked out at
that moment.  He looked around and saw that the other
men looked the same way.  At least he wouldn't be
suffering on his own.

xxx

 "Now that we've explored our powers of
 communication," Lilith said,
"We're going to explore what men have said they enjoy.
 Of course, not every man will respond to every
technique.  The most important thing is to establish
communication with your lover, to make it a two way
street.  The second most important thing is to be open
to try new activities."
 Like kissing? Scully thought, annoyed by all of this.
  Lilith stepped out of the room for a moment and
 returned with a TV-
VCR unit which she dragged into the front of the room.
 She popped in a tape and pressed play.
 Great, thought Scully.  A porn tape like the ones in
 the room. 
Naptime.

xxx

 Mulder and Scully reunited in the larger ballroom of
 the main
building.  They tried their best to ignore the couple
around them, most of whom could not resist throwing
themselves into each others' arms and touching and
kissing intimately before starting on the way to their
cabins. There was little doubt what would be going on
all over the island that night.
 Mulder and Scully were both a little nervous.  They
 approached each
other gingerly, looking carefully to see if there was
any evidence of what the other had been doing.  Mulder
saw that Scully had a red mark on the side of her face
in approximately the shape of her arm, as though she
had been asleep and lying on her arm.  Scully was more
straightforward, probably because she couldn't see any
changes in his appearance.  "How'd you do?" she asked.
 He held up his hands.  "I passed," he said.  "Not a
 bruise." "Mulder, you sound like you were
 arm-wrestling." "Not exactly," he said uneasily.  He
 didn't want to tell her that he'd
spent the last half-hour squeezing tomatoes.  Many of
the other participants had ended up with the red fruit
on their hands, having squeezed too hard and punctured
its thin skin with their fingers.  The geek, Mulder
had noticed, hadn't even put soft dents into his with
his weak, girlish hands. Mulder was proud of himself
for going just far enough.
 Maybe I should tell Scully, he thought, wondering if
 she would be
proud of him.  Maybe with a guarantee, she would trust
him to touch her.  But he didn't want to have to offer
that to gain her trust.  He wanted her trust
naturally.
 "What about you?" he asked uneasily.  They walked
 side by side
toward their cabin, but this time they didn't clasp
hands.  There was suddenly a strong no-touching taboo
between them, like a wall that had been dropped
between their bodies.
 "They made us watch porn flicks to get ideas," she
 admitted in a bored
voice.  "I fell asleep."
 "Why?" he asked.
 "Why what?" she asked back.
 "Why did you fall asleep?"
 "Don't you think watching other people having sex is
 boring?" she
asked, then stopped herself.  "No, I guess you
wouldn't."
 "Does my interest in pornographic videos bother you?"
 Mulder asked
her frankly.
 She shrugged like she didn't care.  "I'm not one of
 those militant
feminists who think they severely degrade and demean
women, if that's what you're asking me," she said.
 "Funny how you said that just like you do think those
 things," Mulder
said.
 "Convincing, aren't I?" she deadpanned.  He opened
 the door and they
went inside.  They sat down on opposite ends of the
couch and didn't look at each other.  The seminar had
apparently allowed them to make great strides in their
relationship.
 "So, TV?"  Mulder asked, taking the remote.  Scully
 nodded and he
turned the TV on.  Even on a tiny island paradise,
there was still ESPN and Mulder managed to find it. 
Scully drew her feet up underneath her body and leaned
toward Mulder.  After a moment, he took the hint and
edged closer, allowing her to place her head against
his shoulder.  She sighed and he could feel it.
 "Fishing, huh?" she asked.
 "The best darn sport there is," Mulder said in a
 false southern drawl. "Don't you think we should be
 doing something else?" she asked. "Like what?" he
 asked back.  Both of them were unwilling to make a
move, so they sat there and watched the large men in
flannel shirts fish.  
 Scully was beginning to have an idea though.  Mulder
 liked those
videos.  There had to be a video camera available
somewhere on the island.  If she could make one...but
that would be making the first move, and she was
determined to make him kiss her first.  Then again,
she thought, it might be just the thing to make him
want to kiss her.  It might just be the thing to make
him want to do a lot of things.
 She shifted on the couch, sitting up, and Mulder
 looked at her. 
"Where're you going?" he asked.
 "For a walk," she said, lying though her teeth.
 "I'll go with you," he said, and a small part of her
 closed off. "Okay," she said as he clicked the TV
 off.  She was thinking, kiss me
on the beach Mulder and don't make me make a fool of
myself...again.  She doubted he would.  And suddenly,
she wondered if it was worth it.  Maybe they would
keep their same relationship forever.  And be happy
with it, maybe.  Suddenly she thought her video idea
had been incredibly stupid.  She wasn't going to
humiliate herself for Mulder's titillation.  No way.
Not until he leveled with her.  She would make him
*talk* to her on the beach.  Much as her body craved
him, she needed to get things straight between them
first.
 They went through the door and were on the beach in
 no time.

End of part 25.  Comments: eponine119@att.net,
jzyvarek@udel.edu

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

Truth
Part 26
by Jessica Zyvarek Taylor & eponine119 
jzyvarek@udel.edu, eponine119@att.net


 They walked for several moments in silence, their
 linked hands
saying all they needed.  Scully stopped walking to
remove her shoes, leaving them up on the beach and
deciding to come back for them later. The sand felt
good between her toes and she walked a little closer
to the edge of the water.  Mulder took his shoes off
as well, leaving them next to Scully's and then
rejoining her.  The water was cooler than it had been
during the day, but it was still warm enough to feel
refreshing lapping at their ankles.  They continued to
walk, falling into step with each other naturally and
reaching out at the same moment to take hold of the
other's hand.  

 The clouds had moved on and the sky was clear.  There
 was a full
moon, lighting the beach so brightly it seemed more
like twilight than nine at night.  But the romance of
the moonlit stroll started to fade. Scully could feel
the weight of the rings on her finger.  She'd grown
used to them, but they suddenly seemed wrong.  They
weren't married.  They weren't engaged.  And every
minute that went by with them holding hands, the more
it seemed to her that it was all just pretend.  He'd
drug her there claiming that there was a case that
needed their attention, a murder.  She'd seen no
evidence of a victim or any indication that anything
was out of the ordinary.  Mulder had gone out of his
way to fool all the staff members that they were a
couple.  She was sure that he'd lied.  And to build
their relationship on a lie was wrong, no matter how
honest his intentions.  She glanced at the rings,
staring at the way they reflected the moonlight.  She
didn't want to wear them anymore.  Not unless it was
real.

 "Mulder?"

 "Hmmm?"  He sounded so content, she glanced up to be
 sure that he
wasn't half asleep.

 "What's going on here?"  It was a perfectly good
 question, and as
good a place as any to begin the conversation.

 He sounded startled, almost guilty.  She started to
 wonder how
much of what he'd said to her was true.  Maybe the
reason he kept starting to seduce her and then backing
out was out of his guilt for lying.  Maybe he did just
want to get her in bed and every time he got close, he
realized it was wrong to use her like that.  But even
so, she knew this was a little too involved for anyone
for the mere purpose of getting laid.  But then,
Mulder was an involved man.  Nothing was ever simple
for him.

 "What do you mean?"  He left his hand linked with
 hers, but she
could swear he started acting nervous.

 She lifted their hands up and then let them drop back
 down.  "I
mean this.  She threw her arm out around her,
indicating the beach and the water and the island. 
"All of this, Mulder?  What are we doing here?"

 She felt his hand loosen, but he didn't try to take
 it back.
"We're on vacation?"

 She pulled her hands away and turned to face him,
 shaking her head
in disbelief.  "We're on vacation?"

 "That's what I said."  His tone wasn't soft and sweet
 and romantic
anymore.  It was flat, even, measured.  It made her
uncomfortable.

 She put her hands on her hips.  "What about the case?
  The murder
you brought me here to solve?"

 He waved his hand dismissively.  "We'll get to that,
 OK?  Just
relax."  He reached for her hand, not masking the
disappointment when she twisted away to avoid it. 
"What?"

 "You brought me here for a reason, Mulder, and I
 don't think that
it had anything to do with a case.  I think you lied
to me.  Actually, I'm sure you lied to me and I want
to know why."

 "I didn't lie, Scully.  I just want us to relax and
 enjoy
ourselves and not have to worry about mutants and
killers and bosses and work."  He put his hands on his
hips as well, sounding almost convincing, but not able
to meet her eyes.

 "Why would you decide to take us on vacation?  We're
 not a couple,
we're friends, barely that anymore, and you decided to
sign us up for a romantic getaway?"

 He looked her in the eye for a moment, silently
 conveying his
hurt, and then turned back to the sand.  "I thought
you might enjoy it. We've been through so much
recently.  I thought maybe..."

 "You thought maybe what?"  He sounded like he was
 about to tell
her she was right, that he had lied and brought them
here for the sole purpose of getting her in bed.  She
started to feel sick to her stomach thinking he'd
betrayed her like that.

 "Nothing has to change, Scully.  I told you that.  We
 can go back
any time and forget this.  I just didn't think you
wanted to leave.  I thought you were having fun.  I
thought we were having fun.  Sorry."  He turned away
from her entirely then, staring out at the hated ocean
and wishing he could vanish.

 "Why don't you just tell me the truth?  Don't lie to
 me, I'm not
going to believe you."  Her mind had closed off to
him, deciding that she was being lied to, not even
willing to believe him.

 "You already don't believe me, Scully."  His hands
 raised to his
face, but since his back was turned, she couldn't see
that he was wiping away tears.  

 "You haven't given me any reason to.  Can you turn
 around and tell
me you've been completely honest with me?"  He was
thinking about his promise to give her time and not
pressure her.  She was thinking about everything else.

 "No, Scully, I can't.  I'm sorry."  He wanted to die
 right then
and be spared the agonizing pain of her leaving him.

 She felt like the rug had been pulled out from under
 her.  She
pulled the rings off her finger, pushing them into his
hand and then turning and running back toward their
room.  She wouldn't let him see her cry.  He'd just
been playing an elaborate game of seduction and he
didn't know how to tell her once he'd realized she'd
fallen for it.

 He looked at the rings in his hand, still warm from
 the heat of
her body and started to cry.  He had her answer.  And
he wished he'd left the whole thing alone, not
bothered her with his one sided feelings. Then maybe
she'd still be by his side.  He put the rings back in
his pocket, fighting the urge to throw them out into
the water.  Even if she hated him, she'd worn the
rings, and that was a good enough reason to keep them.
 

 He sat down in the wet sand and stared out at the
 water.  The
water he hated, the water he feared, and the water
he'd braved to be at her side.  And now he was facing
what he hated, she was nowhere to be found.  His
greatest fear was realized:  He was all alone.

 Finally, Mulder got up, feeling numb.  He walked on
 stiff legs back to
their cabin, hoping Scully would be there.  There were
no words he could say that would make things all right
- he knew he was wrong to have been untruthful to her
- but he would feel better if he knew she was nearby
and not trying to make a swim for it.

 She was sitting on the bed with her arms wrapped
 around her knees. 
She
looked at him when he walked in.  "Scully, I'm sorry,"
he said, but she made a movement with her hand like
she really didn't want to hear it. He sat down on the
bed, waiting for her to yell at him to get off.  She
didn't.  She didn't seem to care at all.  "Are we
going home tomorrow?" he asked quietly.

 She didn't say anything for a long time.  Her eyes
 looked damp, but he
knew he had to be imagining that.  There was no reason
for Scully to cry; besides that, Scully didn't ever
cry.  She was the one who wanted this.  She was the
one who didn't want their relationship to change, who
couldn't trust him enough to let their relationship
change.  But that was his fault.  He blamed himself.

 "Maybe that would be best," she said finally.

 Mulder's heart sank.  But then it rose again on the
 wings of hope, as
only Mulder could manage.  He still had one night, and
part of the day tomorrow.  The cruises back to the
mainland left each day at about 3 pm.  They weren't
scheduled to go for another few days, but he was sure
they could finagle their way onto tomorrow's boat.  He
wasn't going to committ another crime in Scully's eyes
and lie and say they couldn't change their
reservations.  He just knew he had a limited time to
make her want to stay with him. To make her want to
wear these rings.  To convince her that he loved her,
and that he was safe for her to love.

 "Then we should make the most of our last night here,
 don't you think? 
Enjoy it while we have it?" he said in a
non-threatening tone.

 "Mulder, I think I'd rather just stay here and watch
 t -"  Scully
began, but then she interrupted herself.  A new
thought occurred to her - that he was right, that as
long as they were both there, why shouldn't they have
fun?  Specifically, why shouldn't she have fun?  This
entire fiasco was at his expense, at his insistence.  
She might as well take advantage.  She didn't have to
sit home and pine because they'd argued, because she'd
said what was on her mind and their relationship was
maybe not strong enough to stand that.  "Okay," she
said determinedly.  "Let's go."  Bring it on, she
thought, we'll be safe as long as we don't run into
Becky. Er, Bekkie.

 She and Mulder walked into town together.  After the
 scene on the
beach, it didn't seem like such a tropical paradise
anymore.  Scully knew she would miss it, though.  She
wasn't looking forward to their rapid return to cold
weather and reality as of the next day.  She wasn't
sure she was ready for this to end. It just had to. 
Unless she could make Mulder see her point of view,
and change himself, all in one short night and part of
a morning.

 "Where are we going?" Mulder asked when the sand gave
 way to a
street. 
"The shops are all closed, and we already ate, unless
you want to try the restaurant for desert."

 "I'd be happy if I never set foot in that restaurant
 again," Scully
said, remembering her ordeal waiting tables. It would
be too easy for Mulder to forget to pay the bill and
walk out on her again.  "That leaves...there," she
said, gesturing to a beaten up looking windowless
building.

 "What is it?" he asked.

 "We'll find out," she said. She reached for his hand,
 but then
remembered she wasn't pleased with him and she didn't
want to give him the wrong idea.  Awkwardly, she stuck
her hand in her pocket, knowing he saw anyway.  They
walked together to the building and went inside.

 Inside, it was smoky and dark.  Music filled the
 room, as did
conversation and the smell of alcohol.  Someone was
singing along with the music and the harsh sound of
his voice grated on Scully's ears. Cringing, she
turned around to see where it was coming from.  A man
was standing at a table, looking down at his blushing
bride, serenading him.  A spotlight shone on him.  He
had a lot of energy, at least, she thought.

 Mulder froze just inside the door.  "We're in a
 kareoke bar," he said
with obvious horror in his voice.

 "So?" Scully said.  "We'll have a couple of drinks
 and relax."  It was
enough to coax him into sitting at at table, but that
wasn't exactly what happened.  She ordered an Irish
whiskey, knowing she would need her strength, and
waited for the right moment to present itself.  And it
soon did.

 She stood and saw Mulder's eyes widen.  The spotlight
 careened madly
around the room before it found her. Someone slipped
the microphone into her hand and she spoke into it,
her eyes locked with Mulder's.  "This song is for Fox
- Mulder," she said, hesitating on his name.  "He
should find it very...meaningful."

 The first strains of music filled the room with an
 odd power and Scully
began to sing in a beautiful, clear voice.  She could
have been a singer, Mulder thought, marvelling at how
very different she had sounded in the Florida woods,
her flat voice mangling a song to keep herself awake. 
This Scully was a siren.  He tried to keep his
captivation to a minimum and listen to the words, as
she'd instructed him to.

 Listen as the wind blows, across the great divide, 
 Voices trapped in yearning, memories trapped in time,
 

Why can't you hear my voice, Mulder?  Why don't you
listen to all the memories we have? Scully thought.

 The night is my companion, and solitude my guide,
 I could I spend forever here and not be satisfied, 

Mulder didn't want to have to leave the island.  She
was right.  The words were meaningful.  He was
solitary in the night, but he wanted her there with
him, why didn't she know that.  What he didn't know
was whether she felt the same way he did.

 And I would be the one to hold you down,
 Kiss you so hard I'll take your breath away
 And after i'd wipe away the tears just close your
 eyes dear.

Which was exactly what Scully had been wanting to do
for days.  Her eyes dipped closed as she focused on
the song and the image - Mulder, tossed down beneath
her on the sand. Sometimes she thought that was the
only way their relationship would progress.  Could
progress.  If it was sexual and nothing more.

 Through the world i've stumbled, so many times
 betrayed Trying to find an honest word to find the
 truth enslaved. 

She had been right. This song could be about him,
Mulder thought.  About them.  He'd been lost in this
world until she'd come to him.  She was the only one
who hadn't betrayed him, even though at times he'd
thought she had.  The truth was his goal, his shining
light, and yet it didn't keep him company.  She did
that. He was a slave to her just as much as he was to
the truth.

 You speak to me in riddles and you speak to me in
 rhyme, My body aches to breathe your breath, your
 words keep me alive

Mulder could never be straight with her. That was what
their problem always was.  Even now.  He danced around
the truth.  He loved it so, and yet couldn't open his
own life to the truth. She knew he'd been hurt by lies
before.  But now she was hurt by his dishonesty.  She
wanted him, wanted him desperately, if only he could
give her the words she needed to hear....

She glided through the chorus again and onto the next
verse.

 Into this night I wander, it's morning that I dread,

No words could have been more true.  She was alone
tonight and they were both lost.  When morning came,
the dream would be over.

 Another day of knowing of the path I fear to tread,

Back to their old life. She knew they would never
speak of this island once they returned. It would be
too painful, the way "it might have been" always was.

 Into the sea of waking dreams i follow without pride 
 Cause nothing stands between us here and i won't be
 denied

This trip was a dream on the verge of waking. It was
real, but unreal. If she went along with it as he
wanted her to, she would lose her pride.  Was it worth
it, she asked him through the song.  Maybe it was.
Their barriers were gone on the island.  He could not
resist him if she took him.  But what would happen
when morning and reality came?

 She finished the song and a quiet moment hung in the
 air. 
Conversations resumed around the room and she
gradually came back to reality.  She felt the sweat
cooling her body, and the microphone leaving her hand.
Scully even managed to tear her eyes from Mulder's,
and she knew nothing had changed between them. That
angered her and she left the restaurant, walking along
on the beach, overwhelmed with the emotions she'd
allowed to billow up and fill her with the music. 
This entire time she'd been deluding herself.

 Back at their cabin, a room so full of possibilities
 that would be
unfulfilled, she went out to the patio and sat down
before the waterfall, letting its beauty and soothing
sound wash over her. She wasn't certain how much time
had passed before she heard the screen door scrape
open again and was aware that Mulder had joined her.

 "The song was beautiful, Scully," he said. "You're
 beautiful."

 "But it doesn't mean a thing," she said in a voice
 light and rough with
tears.  Emotions that were threatening to tear her
apart.  He didn't deny it, didn't say anything, and
she turned away from him, going into the cabin.  It
was time for bed.  Let the morning come that much
sooner, she thought.  Let this torment end.

 If she'd looked at Mulder, she would have seen that
 he was kneeling
with the emerald ring in his hand, ready to propose
all over again. She'd walked away before he could. 
And he let her go.

xxx

 The next morning,  Scully awoke as alone in the bed
 as she had gone
to
sleep. One thing was different, though.  The emerald
and diamond ring had resurfaced on her hand. Mulder
had slipped it there while she slept.  Anger shot
through her and she wanted to twist the ring from her
hand and hurl it as far away as possible, but
sentimentality kept her from doing it.  She looked
down at it for a long moment and got out of bed.

 Her things were packed. She had no doubt that Mulder
 had been
thorough.  All that remained was to join him in town
and wait for the ship to leave, sailing back to
reality.  He'd taken his things with him, she saw,
lifting her bag and making a final check around the
room.  She turned her back on it sadly, feeling the
death of a dream.

 Mulder was sitting on the doorstep with his suitcase.
  His smile when
he saw her held all the radiance of the sun.  "Good
morning, sunshine," he said.

 She almost smiled back, but reminded herself that ice
 queens didn't
smile at men who'd broken their hearts.  "Are you
ready to go?"

 He nodded mildly and they set off together, carrying
 their bags and
walking slowly in step with each other, across the
beach and down through the town.

 They'd almost reached the boat when Bekkie came
 running up,
accosting
them.  "You're just in time!" she said, her eyes as
fevered as a maniac's.  "I heard you'd been called
back home on urgent business, but I'm so glad I caught
you!  You have just enough time to join us!"  She
began to run back toward the town center, then stopped
and looked back. "Come on!" she yelled.

 Mulder and Scully looked at each other and followed
 her.

End of part 26. Comments: jzyvarek@udel.edu,
eponine119@att.net

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

Truth
Part 27
by Jessica Zyvarek Taylor & eponine119 
jzyvarek@udel.edu, eponine119@att.net


 Bekkie bounded back to the main building in half the
 time it would
have taken the road runner.  Two boys appeared in her
wake, taking the luggage and allowing Mulder and
Scully the chance to catch up to their track star
host.  Scully reached the door half a second before
Mulder, pulled it open and stopped short.  Mulder
crashed into her, sending her sprawling, then helping
her back up before noticing why she'd stopped. The
dining room had been converted, in a manner of
speaking, to a church of sorts.  It tried to be
nondenominational, but it was fashioned primarily on
the Catholic church.  On instinct, Scully genuflected
before walking forward to take her seat.  Mulder hung
back.  He was raised Jewish, this was a new and
entirely frightening experience for him.  He tried to
believe in something, but it was hard for him, given
his life, and he was sure that if there was a God, He
wasn't happy with Mulder. Feeling eyes on him, he
copied Scully's quick movements as quickly as he
could, hoping people would mistake his unfamiliarity
with old habit.  No one seemed to notice, other than
Scully who shot a glare at him.  

 He slid into the seat next to her as others arrived. 
 The service
hadn't begun yet and others were still speaking
quietly.  He took his cue from Scully though.  She had
dropped onto her knees and dipped her head in quiet
prayer, her fingers straying to touch the cross at her
neck.  By the time he realized he too should be on his
knees, she was settling herself back in the seat.  He
leaned over and whispered to her.  "Am I allowed to be
here, Scully?  Is it some kind of sin?"

 She glared at him, as though to rebuke him for
 talking in church.
But she hadn't been in a Mass for years, so she
couldn't really blame him. She could barely remember
what to do.  "As long as you don't take Communion,
you're welcome at the service."  She looked like she
was about to say something else, but a hand on her
shoulder caught her attention. Bekkie was standing
there and whispered to Scully, who did something with
her hands and then motioned to Mulder.  Bekkie nodded
and smiled and Scully seemed relieved.  Mulder decided
to be relieved too.

 A man stepped forward from the group in the front of
 the room, an
oddly casual liturgical garment draped around his
shoulders.  Thankfully, he seemed to be aware that
there were people present who weren't used to
attending church and issued simple instructions.  The
prayers he used were run of the mill 'thank whatever
god you pray to for your wonderful life' and Mulder
simply clasped his hands and bowed his head.  Scully
seemed to take to the service well, mumbling things
along with the crowd, her hands remaining clasped for
an extra second or two to finish her prayers.  

 As quickly as it began, the service ended and the
 couples began to
leave.  Bekkie approached the man acting as priest and
pointed to Mulder and Scully.  The man smiled and
nodded and spoke to another person who also smiled. 
Mulder was getting nervous.  Scully was too.  Bekkie
had asked if everything was all right, because they
had to leave and everything.  She'd said that
everything was fine, feeling horribly guilty for
telling a lie, and then had asked if the priest might
be willing to give them a blessing.  Bekkie assumed it
was because of their wedding, Scully had been hoping
it would help them stay friends after this.  Then
Bekkie had asked for her rings, and  Scully had given
them over, mentioning that the wedding band was an
heirloom and to please be careful with it.  At any
rate, the commotion at the front of the makeshift
church was beginning to scare her.  

 Bekkie hopped back over to them.  "OK, they're all
 set.  We're
ready when you are."

 Scully was about to ask what was going on, but Mulder
 bent over
and asked her what was going on.  She looked back at
him, feeling guilty for signing him up for an
encounter with a priest without his consent.  "I just
asked for a blessing.  We have a long trip ahead of us
and several problems to deal with once we get home." 
He nodded, understanding, and adding his own silent
prayer that everything would be fine.

 He leaned over once more as they approached the
 priest.  "Is it OK
for him to bless me?  I'm not going to hell or
anything over it am I?"

 Scully laughed and stopped walking long enough to
 answer.
"Mulder, you would be the first man in the history of
the world to go to hell for receiving a blessing."  He
smiled too, realizing his own complete ignorance of
her faith.

 They presented themselves in front of the priest,
 with Bekkie at
Scully's side and the other man at Mulder's side. 
Mulder narrowed his eyes and looked at Scully.  She
looked like she was about to explain that she wanted
turkey and not chicken to the guy at the deli counter.
 She closed her mouth again, deciding she was just
paranoid.  This was merely a blessing, not what it
looked like.

 The priest cleared his throat.  "Dearly beloved, we
 are gathered
here today to renew the wedding vows..."

 Two jaws dropped open in sheer horror.  Just as they
 were both
about to back away, each felt the arm of their
'witness' holding them in place.  Scully turned to
Bekkie, wanting to scream at her.  Bekkie beamed
happily back, thinking that the seminar on sexual
desires had been rather helpful.  Mulder, horror
stricken to the point of utter speechlessness, assumed
that since he wasn't of this faith, the wedding would
mean nothing.  But it got harder and harder to believe
that as first he and then Scully mindlessly repeated
the words spoken to them.  Their eyes had long since
locked together, both searching the other to see just
how much truth lay there.  

 Mulder tried to listen to the words as Scully said
 them to him,
looking for all the world like she meant every word,
especially with those tears in her eyes, but her voice
was drowned out by the voice in his head, the one
screaming at him 'she's marrying you.'  He wanted to
be upset since he'd really never thought much about
getting married, nothing other than that he wanted to
be married to her.  But he couldn't be.  If she was
saying this and he'd already said it, it meant that he
could kiss her.  It meant that he could make love to
her.  And she could tell her very Catholic mother that
they'd waited until they were married to have sex. He
was so proud of himself for waiting.  He smiled at
her, hoping she would stop crying.  

 Bekkie presented the rings to the priest, who made
 the sign of the
cross over top of them, and who, in turn, presented
them to Mulder.  He took them one at a time and slid
them onto Scully's finger, keeping hold of her hand
when he was finished.  Her hands shook slightly even
while he held them.  Then the one sentence he'd
actually heard during the ceremony floated through his
mind: You may kiss the bride.  He had the permission
of God, for Christ's sake, and he was still gazing at
her hesitantly. Tears continued to roll down her face.
 Was she having second thoughts?

 She couldn't stop the tears that made their way down
 her face.
>>From the moment she'd realized what was happening,
>>she knew he had to
have
realized it too and she kept waiting for him to run
out of the church. But he hadn't.  Every moment he
stayed there, looking intently into her eyes, saying
words she'd begun to think she'd never hear from any
man, she felt a little piece of her heart crumble to
make room for him.  By the time he slid the rings onto
her finger, she could even pretend that she wasn't
crying.  It was the prefect wedding for them, she
realized.  Tiny, just them and the bare minimum of
others present, no fancy clothes or flowers or hours
of preparation.  It was so beautiful she almost wished
someone was there to take a picture.  Their first kiss
would be as a married couple.  And the best part of
all, he wasn't insisting that they get married in a
courthouse, with a justice of the peace.  He was
marrying her in her church, before the eyes of her
God, and she couldn't wait to call everyone in her
family and say they were all wrong about him.

 And then he hesitated.  It was the moment she'd been
 waiting for
since, and it shocked her to admit it finally, since
the day she'd met him.  She thought and planned and
wished and fantasized and hoped and waited for him to
kiss her from that first day, that first embrace in a
dark candlelit motel room.  She tilted her head up and
saw his face.  He was confused, upset, mad?  Could he
think she'd planned this?  Even if she had, he could
have left.  She didn't know why he was looking at her
like that, but she did know he wasn't about to kiss
her.  She turned and ran through the door, across the
grounds and onto the dock where a crowd of people
waiting to get on the boat had amassed.  They were all
happy and in love and she was still crying, though now
in pain and humiliation and let down.  She'd just
married him, and for whatever reason, whether to
please her or mock her or be mean to her, he'd married
her right back.  And then he'd refused to kiss her, in
front of those people, for no reason except to spite
her.  She pushed through the crowd and onto the boat,
ignoring the crew telling her she had to wait, threw
the rings onto the deck, hoping they'd roll off and
get eaten by a shark, and ran into the first room she
found that was unlocked.  It was a storage room, full
of any paper product anyone might ever need.  She sat
down on a box of paper towels and let the tears rock
her shoulders as she sobbed.

 He didn't get it.  He was trying to decide if she was
 for real, if
she meant any of what she'd said during those few
minutes they'd been in front of the priest.  He'd come
to the conclusion that she had just married him and
that he was finally going to have the chance to kiss
her and she ran out the door.  Just turned and ran. 
Afraid he'd done something terribly wrong, he chased
her, watching her get swallowed into the crowd on the
dock.  He wasn't crying hysterically and so, didn't
get the crowd's permission to push through.  He had to
wait his turn and after a half hour, he knew she'd
found a good hiding place.  He had just decided that
he'd search the place until he found her when a
glimmer caught his eye.

 He bent down and picked up the wedding band, looking
 around until
he spotted the engagement ring as well.  The wedding
ring was intact, somehow surviving.  The emerald ring
however, was missing one of its diamonds and the ring
itself was smushed into a wide oval.  He was sure they
could fix it with a little help from a jeweler, the
problem would just be whether or not she'd put it on
again.  Assuming he could ever find her.

 He spotted a crew member and approached him, shoving
 the rings
roughly into his pocket.  "How long before we dock?"

 "It's a short trip, about three hours.  You might
 want to head
back inside though, cause there are some pretty nasty
looking clouds the way we're headed.  It's probably
just rain though."

 Mulder gulped, already feeling psychosomatic
 seasickness since
Scully wasn't there to tell him it was impossible. 
"Probably?"  He was squeaking again, the most obvious
sign that he was terrified.  The other sign being the
way he was squeezing the life out of the poor guy's
arm.

 "Aw, I reckon it could be a tropical storm, doubt
 it's a
hurricane, not so close to the mainland without
warning."

 Mulder went deathly pale and headed to the middle of
 the ship,
turning down a hallway, trying to figure out where the
sturdiest and steadiest part of the ship would be.  He
leaned on a door frame for a few minutes, then
remembered that was for earthquakes, and tried sitting
on the floor.  He was horribly nervous, scared out of
his mind about the damn ocean already, now they were
headed into a doubtful, but possible hurricane and he
wanted Scully to hold his hand.  He needed Scully to
hold his hand.  But he couldn't find her.  And he was
too afraid to go back up on deck and see the ominous
clouds they were sailing into.  He started to wonder
where the life jackets were.  He desperately wanted
one, not caring how dumb he would look.  One of those
would make him feel better.

 A half hour later, Scully was about cried out.  Or so
 she thought.
She'd sob and sniffle her way down to a hiccup and
think she'd regained control of herself, but then
she'd envision his annoyed face as she waited for her
kiss and start sobbing all over again.  She was
jostled from her seat atop the paper towels by the
ship as it rocked to one side, then overcorrected its
balance and rocked to the other.  She didn't panic,
quickly wiping the tears from her face and stepping
out of the closet. This was a big boat, it would take
a lot for it to actually capsize, but hiding in the
closet, with things piled up on either side of her,
was a bad idea.  She stepped out into the hallway, and
fell against the opposite wall at the ship rocked
violently again.  She heard a woman's shrill scream
and found herself taking deep calming breaths.  It was
probably just a storm.  But should something happen,
she knew she didn't want to be deep in the belly of
the ship.  She walked down the hallway, bracing her
arms out to either side, falling anyway when the boat
inevitably rocked several more times, each time
farther and more sharply than the last.

 She reached the door onto the deck and pushed it open
 with all of
her strength.  The wind whipped by, pulling her
unrestrained hair across her face and blinding her. 
The rain was falling hard enough to sting when it made
contact with her skin.  And the fog was so think that
she blinked three times before she realized her eyes
were open.  She clung to the railing as the ship
rocked again, coming so close to the water on its
return trip that her hands touched the ocean water. 
Involuntarily, she screamed at the thought of what was
going on.  The ship was completely out of control. 
They were in the tropics, she knew the storms were
terribly violent there, they'd had one the day before,
and she'd still forgotten to check the weather report
before they left. 

 Refusing to give in to the panic, she made her way
 down the deck,
hoping to find a life jacket somewhere.  She ran into
a group of people huddled around a life boat.  One of
the women was screaming about taking the boat before
they lost their chance and Scully bit down the urge to
point out that a life boat would be toast in water so
rough.  But she didn't.  Seeing the hysterical woman,
she thought of Mulder.  As mad and hurt as she was,
she was still in love with him and he was still afraid
of water.  She found a few life vests, strapping one
on for herself and then grabbing one for Mulder.  Her
initial decision that the ship was going to survive
began to disintegrate as a wave of water ten feet high
crashed over her.  She held on to the railing,
determined not to leave without Mulder.  

 She tried to think logically as people, the crew
 included, began
to panic around her.  Mulder was afraid of the water. 
He'd probably have faith in the boat though and try to
get somewhere as far away from the water as he could. 
And knowing his tendency towards motion sickness, he
would probably aim for the stillest part of the ship. 
She headed for the door again, pushing through the
group with the now wet, screaming woman, and running
down the stairs.  He'd probably be down in the belly
of the ship, the least likely to survive if the boat
was to flip, and the least likely to know he'd be the
least likely to survive.  

 She'd only made it down one flight of stairs, though,
 when the
ship rocked again, more violently than the last few
times.  She realized what was happening in the heart
stopping second when the boat teetered on it's
precarious balance.  Then she felt the horrifying
moment of weightlessness as the ship rolled to its
side, before she crashed into the floor that had once
been a wall.  Pain ripped through her shoulder when
she landed.  She tried to think.  But it was hard. 
The ship was sinking and for once in her life, she was
scared to death that she was going to die on the sea. 
She pushed herself back towards the door and pushed it
open, hoping she could get back to the deck before the
rest of the ship went under.

End of part 27.  Comments: jzyvarek@udel.edu,
eponine119@att.net

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


Truth
part 28
by eponine119  & Jessica Zvyarek Taylor
eponine119@att.net, jzyvarek@udel.edu

 She'd only made it down one flight of stairs, though,
 when the
ship rocked again, more violently than the last few
times.  She realized what was happening in the heart
stopping second when the boat teetered on it's
precarious balance.  Then she felt the horrifying
moment of weightlessness as the ship rolled to its
side, before she crashed into the floor that had once
been a wall.  Pain ripped through her shoulder when
she landed.  She tried to think.  But it was hard. 
The ship was sinking and for once in her life, she was
scared to death that she was going to die on the sea. 
She pushed herself back towards the door and pushed it
open, hoping she could get back to the deck before the
rest of the ship went under.

 "Mulder!" she shouted, her voice carrying and echoing
 oddly off the
walls of the inner decks of the ship.  Answer me, she
prayed.  What the hell had either of them been
thinking? she wondered as she fought against the water
to try to get to him.  She thought he'd only married
her to be polite.  She had no idea what he'd thought
of the whole scene, but she suspected he believed
she'd set it up. She had, after all, been throwing
herself wildly at him for days now.  Nothing like a
fight for survival to bring things into clear focus,
she thought.
 Something slithered across her leg and for the first
 time she realized
she was in sea water.  Even though she was in an
enclosed environment, even though it seemed really
safe, this wasn't a movie. The water around her was
dark and murky and all sorts of things lurked down
there.  She remembered the foundering of several
ferryboats near Europe - they'd had the tendency to
roll over.  She thought this ship was large enough it
wouldn't have gotten knocked over.  Scully hoped that
it would remain on its side.  Perhaps it would be able
to float that way.  She didn't really know.
 "Mulder!" she shouted again, feeling herself grow
 weary from fighting
against a current.  Wait, a current?  If she was
fighting against it, that meant she was heading
towards where the water was coming into the ship. If
Mulder was there, it was likely he was already
dead...or swept out to sea.  She couldn't let that be
so. There was so much pain and hurt between them, all
unnecessary.  They'd wasted so much time with game
playing and unwillingness to be honest.  They'd both
been equally guilty of not being able to put their
feelings on the line, to risk saying the words.  This
was what it got them.  A ship full of water.
 It was getting deeper, and she wasn't going to go
 without him, even if
that meant she would die here herself.  She imagined
Mulder having fought his way out of instinct, to the
surface and surviving while she fought to save him. 
She could picture her funeral - Mulder trying
valiantly not to cry, everyone she knew dressed in
solemn black.   Her body wouldn't be found, but they'd
lose hope quickly.  They had done so before.
 Chills had arisen on her skin and she could feel
 herself being bogged
down by the idea, by all of the nightmares she had
already endured in this life. "Mulder?" she cried once
more, no longer a demand for an answer.  She heard the
sigh of hopelessness in her own voice.  Already she
had grown tired.  She wasn't even calm.  She felt
hiccupy and weak, like she was going to sob. "No," she
said to herself, to hear it aloud. "No," she said
again more strongly. She began to move through the
water again.

 Mulder hadn't known what was happening, only that
 something was. 
He'd felt the violent rocking of the ship, but
everything had happened too quickly.  By the time he'd
gotten to his feet, the room had been disoriented,
turned upside down and had begun to fill with dirty
water. Just the kind of water he hated.  Water he
couldn't see through.
 Knowing Scully was on the ship somewhere, he knew he
 couldn't stay
where he was.  They should be together, was all he
could think.  Their lives had been joined in matrimony
- however phony or false or contrived it may have
been, that still meant something to Mulder.  He knew
it had happened to their souls long ago, perhaps from
their first meeting.  Or perhaps it was something that
had been destined even longer ago than that.  Mulder
didn't believe in reincarnation, but he didn't
disbelieve either. If any relationship upheld the
tenets of that belief, it was his relationship with
Scully.  He could believe they had been put on this
earth to find each other. He had learned so much from
her already.  As had she, he was certain. But there
were things they had to learn together.
 To love without fear.
 If they died now, apart, like this, he at least had
 the consolation of
knowing it would guarantee another lifetime together
to learn where they had failed in this one.
 Unfortunately, that wasn't good enough for Mulder,
 although god
knew he'd considered it before.  End this life and
start fresh with less pain, he'd thought.  But in the
end, the instinct to survive always won in him.  As it
did at that moment.  He had to see her again, hold her
again, and tell her just how very wrong he had been.
 "Scully!" he yelled, even though he knew she couldn't
 hear him.  Just
as he began to move his legs in the water, even though
he couldn't see them. He knew they were there.  And he
knew they wouldn't fail him, not when it was so very
important.  He'd trained as a swimmer for a reason.
That reason was now.
 As he broke through the door, Mulder became aware of
 a strange
presence in the water.  Presence was the wrong word,
but he didn't know the right one.  An energy, a
buzzing, a filling of the void between the atoms that
made the air and the water and all matter, including
his body.  He didn't understand it, and yet he did on
the most primal of terms: something really fucking
weird was happening.
 "Scully!" he called again, and his voice stretched
 oddly into infinity,
yet bounced back to his ears too quickly.  Mulder
never for a moment thought he was having a
hallucination or that this was what death was.  He
knew this was real, and it filled him with the same
wonder and awe he had for all paranormal phenomena. He
only wished he had more time to stay and study it. He
had to find Scully.
 "Mulder!" her voice sounded just as odd to his ears,
 but there she was,
alive, and safe.  She was looking for him.  It brought
tears to his eyes as he opened his arms, moving
towards her.  She swam at him, and he enfolded her in
a hug so tight neither of them could breathe.
 "You shouldn't be here," he murmured into her wet
 hair. "You should
have gone, you shouldn't have come back."
 "I shouldn't have run away," Scully said and he could
 tell she was
crying too.  She held her arms around him, and neither
of them made any move to break the hug.  He felt warm
against her storm chilled body, and she was never
going to let go of him.  She was never going to let
him out of her sight again.  He got into too much
trouble.  She looked up and met his eyes. "Why did you
hesitate?" she demanded.
 He didn't know what she was talking about.  "Why did
 you force that
wedding on me?  I was determined not to pressure you
and you -"
 "I didn't do it, Mulder, it was that Bekkie person. 
 She must have
thought that was what we were asking for," Scully
said. Mulder's arms relaxed and she took the
opportunity to push out of them and look at him
frankly.  "It's okay.  We didn't sign a license, and
the ceremony he performed was a renewal of vows, not
the vows themselves.  You're safe, Mulder, we're not
married."
 "I don't want to be safe," he told her.
 "You could say that again," she cracked, "Look where
 we are!" "I asked you to marry me, Scully." "But -"
 "I did mean it. I do mean it."  Mulder found the
 rings in his pocket. 
The engagement ring was too damaged for him to put it
on her finger again. But the heirloom wedding ring was
perfect.  He put it back on her finger where it
belonged.  "I don't want to pressure you, Scully, but
I don't need a license or a ceremony. In my heart,
where it matters, I am married to you." She looked
away and his heart sank.  "Even if you don't want to
hear it, that's how I feel."
 "It's how I feel, too, Mulder," she said, licking her
 lips and looking at
him again.  "We've both been so foolish."
 He nodded and they felt the water lap around them as
 something set
the ship rocking around them. Scully clutched at him
involuntarily, and he grabbed her, holding her tight. 
This is it, they were both thinking.  They'd survived
mutants and killers and giant bugs and being stranded
in a ship that aged them and clone viruses and alien
abductions and cancer and a hundred other things that
would have killed any normal people.  Just as certain
as they had been of being able to overcome those
obstacles, they were certain they were not going to
cheat death this time.
 "Kiss me now,  Mulder," Scully ordered him.  "We've
 wasted too much
time."
 He looked down at her, wanting to be sure she was
 sure. He wanted
this to be perfect, even more so now given the
circumstances. But he held her tight against his body
so she wouldn't get any more bright ideas that he
didn't want her. Mulder's hands roamed up and down her
back and he held her blue eyes with his.  The
electricity between them was intense as he began to
slowly lower his lips to hers.
 Scully made a soft, terrible noise and went limp in
 his arms.  "Scully?"
he cried as his eyes flew open.  He saw blood, bright
and terrifying oozing from her head.  A split second
later he saw a piece of wood floating on the water. 
She'd been hit in the head.  He struggled to hold her
upright with her head above water, knowing she would
drown in her unconsciousness in a moment.  There
seemed to be so very much blood and she was cold.  Too
cold even for this water.  Tears stung Mulder's eyes. 
He'd waited too long.
 Even through the tears, he knew the melting and
 jumbling of the walls
in front of him was unusual.  It wasn't supposed to
happen.  I've been hit in the head too, he thought
madly, or this is what oxygen deprivation due to
drowning causes.  He would never see Samantha again. 
He would never find her, and redeem himself.  He would
never be given the opportunity to show Scully every
day how much he loved her.   This was the end.  Mulder
fought and lost and his eyes closed.  His arms
released Scully into the water, and the world seemed
to cease.

xxx

 There was a big, painful...*pain* in her head. She
 groaned before she
even thought about opening her eyes and the sound set
off all kinds of interesting colors exploding behind
her closed eyelids.  She drew in a deep breath full of
the warm, humid air and opened her eyes.
 The sunlight made her squint, but she was all right. 
 She reached up
and gingerly touched the spot on her head that hurt. 
Sure enough, she had a bump and it was sore.  She made
herself jump when she touched it. Something had hit
her, she reasoned.  But what?  And when?  She didn't
know.  It's not unusual to block out a trauma, she
told herself.
 Even as she reassured herself, she knew it wasn't
 that simple.  She
didn't know where she was or how she'd arrived there. 
The basics were easy to discern: she was on a hot,
bright, sandy beach.  There wasn't a footprint in
sight, so it was a fair guess she'd come from the
ocean, although she didn't know how she'd come to be
there.  She was fully dressed, so she hadn't been
swimming.
 She became aware of two things at almost the same
 moment: the
heavy gold ring on her finger, and the man lying a few
yards down the beach. She got to her feet, but stood
there for a moment, deciding which to investigate
first.  The man didn't move.  He looked dead, but she
didn't want him to be dead.  She looked down at the
ring and twisted it from her finger.  It was worn. 
She'd been married a long time.  The feeling in her
chest that told her she didn't want the man to be dead
told her he was the man she was married to.
 It didn't tell her her name or how she'd come to be
 where she was, but
it was a beginning.  She walked down the beach,
realizing things as she went. She'd lost her shoes in
the water and the sand was hot.  Her clothes were
torn, but not badly.  She was uninjured but for the
bump on her head.  She reached the man.
 He was limp and it was easy for her to roll him onto
 his back. 
Handsome, she thought, touching his face with its
finely chiseled features. His lips were parted and she
held the back of her hand inches from them. Brief, hot
moisture touched her skin. He was alive.  She ran her
hands through his dark hair, searching for some sign
of injury.  There was none.  She didn't know why he
was unconscious.
 She didn't know a lot of things, but she wasn't
 thinking about that now. There was a ring.  On his
 hand.  It was a simple gold band like the one
she wore.  He was her husband.  She didn't remove the
ring to look for an inscription.  Chances were it
would be as worn as hers was.  It also seemed a bad
omen. If she removed it without his permission, it
would be like allowing him to die.
 A large wave approached the shore more quickly than
 she could
anticipate or move and it washed over the man.  She
was tense, waiting to see if he would be all right. 
He sputtered against the water he'd inhaled and he
rolled to his side, curling up and coughing weakly. 
But his eyes opened and they looked at her.  He
smiled.  "You're safe," he said in a low voice that
resonated intimately through her.  She loved that
smile.  She loved him, she knew it by instinct and not
conscious memory.  He sat up and held out his hands
and she let him touch her face and her hair, wanting
him to touch her.
 "I don't remember anything," she said, liking the way
 he left his hand
to rest against her cheek.
 "Probably better that way," he murmured, his eyes not
 leaving hers. "No, I mean, I don't remember
 *anything,*" she repeated, feeling
strangely vulnerable.  She was at his mercy, she
realized, and she had to trust him. There was no one
else to trust.  His eyes widened but he didn't speak.
"Not my name, not your name, or where we are or how we
got here or any of it," she said.
 He looked at her a few long moments.  Then he removed
 his hand
from her cheek and got to his feet.  She jumped up,
following him. It was her only choice. He knew her, he
knew what was going on.  That meant she needed him
with more than just her heart.  He looked up at the
sky and not at her. "It's going to be dark soon," he
said, not answering one of her questions. "We need to
be prepared."
 She followed him as he tramped through the sand, also
 shoeless, to the
edge of the foliage.  She watched as he picked at the
trees and the bushes like he was shopping. He looked
up at the sun a few times.  It began to grow colder
and dimmer, and still she followed his footsteps.  She
could read his emotions. He was frustrated.  He was
scared.  And he didn't want her to know.
 Finally, she walked directly in front of him where he
 couldn't ignore
her.  She stuck out her hand at him. "Hi, I'm not sure
we've met," she said with a smile.  "I realize it's
kind of embarrassing, seeing as how we're married and
all, but I don't remember your name."
 Mulder gaped at her.  She thought they were married. 
 That was his
first big shock. He was able to figure it out rather
quickly, however.  She'd noticed they were both
wearing wedding bands.  Women always noticed these
things, he thought.  The other thing that absolutely
shocked him was Scully herself. How very
un-Scully-like she seemed.  She was relaxed.  There
was no tension in her face, no worried line between
her brows.  She was beautiful, and she was free.  He'd
done so much to change her - to hurt her - since he'd
met her those five years before.  She used to be like
this.  Free, and easy, and happy.  Willing to stand
there looking mildly foolish, waiting for him to shake
her hand and introduce himself.
 "Mulder," he said gruffly, shaking her hand.
 "Mulder," she said with a smile.  She leaned in
 charmingly and asked,
"And I am...?"
 "Sc - ah - Dana," he answered.
 "How do you spell that?" she requested.
 "Dana.  Your name is Dana.  Dana Scully."  He felt
 embarrassed, for
when she remembered everything and thought back on
this moment and what an idiot he was.  He wondered if
he should be concerned about her amnesia or if it was
a natural reaction to being conked on the head and
shipwrecked.
 "How'd we get here?" she asked him, gathering twigs
 in her hands as
they walked.
 "The ship we were on sank."
 "Weird," she said, sitting down and making a little
 pile of the twigs.
He watched her, interested.
 "Very weird," he concurred.  "We're in the Bermuda
 Triangle." "What's that?" she asked, picking up a
 pair of stones from the sand. 
Mulder thought she would have said the same thing even
if she had her memory.  But she'd already been knocked
out when the strange vortex like tunnel had taken them
out of the water and carried them unharmed to the
island.  She wouldn't believe it if he told her. 
Striking the two stones together, she made a spark
that ignited the pile of sticks.  Her face light up.
"Wonder where I learned to do that!" she said with a
grin that melted his heart.
 "I don't know," he said, getting up again.
 "Where are you going?" she asked him.  He didn't
 answer, but he
stopped walking.  "Stay here, tell me about me." She
laughed and patted the sand beside her. "Keep me
company."  Reluctantly Mulder sat back down. "So,
we're married."
 "Scully I should -"
 "Why do you call me by my last name if we're
 married?" she asked
practically.
 "There's something you should know -"
 "What?" she asked brightly.  She was sitting very
 close to him and he
couldn't answer with her eyes so dark a blue in the
fading sunlight.  He could only try to close his mouth
and shake his head.  She drew closer, aware that the
heat of the sun was going with its light.  "We're
going to need more heat than this fire can provide,"
she murmured, almost crawling into his lap. Mulder
made little effort to get away because he was stunned.
 He'd never known  Scully as a seductress before and
it amazed him.  Her hand snaked up around his neck and
drew his face close to hers.  "I want to know my
husband."
 In that moment he wondered if this was all a ruse of
 amnesia aimed at
seducing him.  He didn't care.  She captured his mouth
with hers, working magic with her lips and her tongue.
Mulder knew it was wrong, but he couldn't push her
away.  The fire coming from within her felt so good
and he'd waited for so long.  He knew this was Scully.
 Your personality, your loves and your desires didn't
change just because you got knocked on the head.  So
he let himself kiss her back and touch her as she lay
back on the sand and opened herself to him.  He
accepted willingly, and she was not exactly a passive
participant herself.  In the early hours of the
evening, they found contented sleep.

xxx

 When Dana Scully awoke to the bright pink rays of
 dawn the next
morning, she remembered everything. Not only her name
and where she'd gone to school, but the pretense of
being married and the pseudo wedding and the
shipwreck.  The thing she remembered most was the
previous evening, though. It was strange to think back
and know that only a few hours before she hadn't known
her own name, and know that fact had changed her.
 Her reaction to the fact that Mulder was lying beside
 her and she
remembered every loving, pleasant detail was
embarrassment.  She'd thrown herself at a man she
hadn't known anything about, except that she thought
she knew him and was married to him.  Scully knew
about psychological amnesia, where a person blocked
out their memory because they couldn't - or wouldn't -
deal with it at that moment.  The fact that her mind
had done that to her, seemingly for the express
purpose of seducing  Mulder, embarrassed her all the
more. Not only had her body betrayed her, but her mind
had helped.
 Before she had time to decide how she wanted to
 react, he stirred
beside her and opened his eyes.  He smiled and the
love she saw in his eyes was incredible. He loved her.
Her heart pounded because she still didn't know what
she was going to do.  She could tell him the truth. 
She could pretend she'd regained her memory, but
forgotten the previous night. Or she could pretend she
still had amnesia.
 Pretending is wrong, she thought.
 Just look where it's gotten us.
 She looked at Mulder and knew she had to say
 something.

End of part 28. Comments: eponine119@att.net,