From: ANGELA WARD <tapw63@hotmail.com>
Date: Sun, 29 Sep 2002 11:06:43 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: Fanfic Submission
Source: direct

Title: "Undercover Lovers"
Author: Angela W.
Category: MSR (Mulder/Scully married) and
Skinner/Maggie Scully friendship
Rating: Strong R
Summary: Mulder, Scully and their daughter go
undercover to help Skinner catch a cop killer.
Timespan/Spoilers: This is part of my "married"
series, which diverged from the "real" XF world about
midway through season seven. Assume that everything
through "Closure" has happened, but that Mulder was
never abducted and that the consummation of the MSR
and birth of their child were different from the
events depicted in late season seven and beyond. In my
series, this comes after "A Day at the Beach". I think
the only XF ep referenced is a vague mention of
"Arcadia"; there's also a brief mention of "The
X-Files Movie: Fight the Future".
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. They
are the property of Chris Carter and 1013 Productions.
Archive: Feel free to archive anywhere!
Feeback: If it's nice or contains *constructive*
criticism, feedback is valued.
***
Dr. Dana Scully was extracting a bullet from a cadaver
while performing an autopsy. Gathered around her were
half a dozen students of the FBI Academy, all of whom
had a background in medicine or hard science.
"We want to remove the bullet as gently as we can, to
avoid destroying any rifling marks it may have on it,"
she said, placing the bullet in a box beside her.
"When the autopsy is over, we'll run a trace on the
bullet to see if it matches the bullets retrieved from
the victims of any other unsolved homicides in the
past five years."
"Why only five years?" one of the students asked.
"Well, at the moment, because that's how far back the
nationwide computerized ballistics archives go. But as
a matter of probability, it's about a 99 percent
certainty that any other murders committed by this
same perpetrator would have taken place within that
timeframe. It's only in Agatha Christie novels that
people seek revenge by waiting 20 years between one
murder and the next. Most killers -- even serial
killers who move from city to city and commit their
murders over a series of months -- usually either
quit, get caught or commit suicide within a five year
timeframe," Scully answered.
"Where did you get that information?" another student
inquired.
"From the criminal profiler who's the head of the
FBI's task force on serial killers," Scully replied.
"I've heard him mentioned; that's Special Agent Fox
Mulder, right?" the original student said. "You know
him?"
"Intimately," Scully replied with a small smile.
"He's your husband?" one of the female students
suggested.
Scully was surprised. The woman, an Asian-American by
the name of Jenny Okamata, had been her quietest
student up to that point.
"You're right," Scully said. "But why don't you
explain to the rest of the students how you came to
that conclusion."
"It was more of an inspired guess," Okamata said.
"Sometimes inspired guesses simply mean we've
assimilated clues faster than our brains can process
them," Scully replied. "Tell me what led you to guess
that Agent Mulder and I are married."
Okamata was quiet for a moment, then she began stating
the facts precisely. "Well, I know that you're
married; you wear a wedding ring and you've mentioned
that you're only here at Quantico three days a week
because you have a baby girl. And you used the word
'intimately' to describe the type of relationship you
have with Agent Mulder; that word doesn't necessarily
have to imply a sexual relationship but in most cases
it does, especially when used by a man or woman in
relation to a member of the opposite sex. And you kind
of smiled when you said it; like you found it funny to
be asked if you knew him. . . and most people would
find it funny if somebody asked if they knew a member
of their own family."
"Very good," Scully said, impressed. "Anything else?"
Okamata seemed to blush slightly, but it was a bit
difficult to tell. "Well. . .I've seen Agent Mulder.
He gave a guest lecture in one of my classes last
month. He's, um, very attractive. If you were married
to another man, I'm guessing your husband would
probably object to you describing your relationship
with Agent Mulder as 'intimate' since it could create
the impression, or at least cause some speculation,
that the two of you were, or had been, romantically
involved."
"You're showing a remarkable ability to backup your
conclusions, Okamata."
"Yeah, but it's *still* just guesswork," a male
student grumbled. "Nothing she said would constitute
proof that you're married to Agent Mulder or be
admissible in a court of law."
"You're right," Scully agreed. "But out in the field,
faced with an almost endless variety of choices and
possible clues, we have to start somewhere. That often
means following the trail that our gut instinct
suggests to us. Sometimes we'll be wrong and have to
start over again, but a lot of times you'll soon find
the proof to back up what your initial impression
pointed to. Now let's run these bullets."
About an hour later, the FBI computer began beeping
and spitting out data.
"That means the computer found a match; the bullet
found in our corpse was fired by the same gun as one
used in another unsolved murder within the past five
years," Scully said. She crossed the room and looked
at the display. She blinked, then double-checked.
Then, without hesitating, she grabbed her cell phone
and pushed the first number on her speed dial.

***
Anyone glancing in at Mulder in his private office at
FBI headquarters might have been excused for thinking
he was dozing on the job. Mulder had his feet up and
his eyes closed. However, he was working harder than
virtually anyone else in the building at that moment.
He was trying to create a profile of a serial killer
who was stalking Miami. The process required him to
project himself into the mind of a madman. It was
nasty, psychologically dangerous work and something he
did extremely well.
The ringing of his cell phone startled Mulder out of
his reverie. Damn! he thought. Only a handful of
people used his cell number nowadays; most of his
calls came through his secretary to the landline on
his desk and he'd instructed her to hold all calls
unless they came from Skinner, from a woman with the
last name of Scully -- either Dana or Margaret -- who
said it was an emergency or directly from either God
or the President.
"Mulder," he snapped tersely.
"Mulder, it's me," Scully said.
"Scully, I'm kind of in the middle of something right
now. Is this urgent?"
"In a purely professional sense, yes. It's nothing
personal, nothing's wrong with me or Melissa, but I've
run across something here in the labs I need your
input on and that I think you'll want to be involved
in."
"I'm listening," Mulder replied. He had absolute trust
in his wife's professional judgment. If Scully said it
was important, then it damned well *was* important.
"I just did an autopsy and ran the bullet. It matches
a bullet used in another unsolved homicide about three
months ago in another state."
"So we're looking at a traveling serial killer.
Granted, that's what I do, but I'm guessing there's
something more to this than what you've told me so
far."
"Plenty, Mulder. Both cases were flagged code red. You
know what that means."
"Law enforcement officers. You're telling me we've got
a serial cop killer on the loose?"
"That's what it looks like to me, Mulder, but you're
going to have to be the one to make that judgment. If
it's okay, I'm going to let some of my students sit in
on our discussion. They could learn a lot from
watching you."
"I'll be there as soon as I can make it, Scully. They
watch up until I say so. Then they leave."
As he headed out the door of his private office into
the general staff room of the serial killers task
force, Mulder barked out, "Chan!"
"Yes sir?" asked an Asian-American agent in his early
30s.
"Come with me. We're heading out to Quantico. Scully's
found some evidence we need to look into."
Chan nodded, grabbed his jacket, and followed his
boss.
***
After several hours of going over the evidence related
to each case and the background of each officer,
Mulder said to the assembled students, as well as
Scully and Chan, "Okay, here's what we've got: two law
enforcement officers, both shot at close range by guns
fired from the same gun. Both were off-duty at the
time they were killed. Both were white, middle-aged
and married with grown children. Other than that,
there are no obviously similarities. One was 49 and a
lifelong resident of Tucson, Arizona. The other was 60
and had lived in a variety of different places -- born
in Michigan, graduated high school in New Jersey and
had spent most of his adult life working as a police
officer in Pennsylvania -- but had never lived in
Arizona, unless it was for a period of time so brief
that nobody bothered to mention it on his background
report. So our task is to find out when and where
their paths crossed -- presuming they did, at some
point -- or find out what it was that they had in
common. Any suggestions?"
"Well, some obvious areas are ruled out," one the
students suggested hesitantly. "There's an eleven-year
age gap between the victims, so they it's highly
unlikely that they went to college or through military
training together."
"Agreed," Mulder said. "Keep in mind, those
potentialities aren't impossible -- our older vic
could have been a non-traditional student or an older
recruit -- but you're right that either is highly
unlikely."
"How about right here?" Okamata suggested. "In
addition to the long course those of us training to be
agents take, we all know that Quantico offers
refresher courses for law enforcement officers from
various localities to learn the latest crime-fighting
techniques. Couldn't both of them have been enrolled
in one fof the same FBI courses at some point during
the last 20 years or so?"
Mulder nodded. "Good call. We'll run their names
through our own data base. That's such an obvious
suggestion -- to look through our own records -- that
it would have been easy to overlook. Any other
suggestions?"
"How about something connected to their children?"
Chan volunteered. "Just because they were 11 years
apart in age doesn't mean they couldn't have kids the
same age. Maybe their kids were college roommates or
something."

"Okay, we'll check on that. Anybody else want to toss
an idea into the ring?"
"Something. . .medical maybe?" suggested one of
Scully's male students. "They could have both had some
sort of rare disease."
"Scully, you want to field that one?" Mulder asked.
"It's not a bad idea," Scully admitted. "But both
victims had complete post-mortems done on them, which
included getting their medical records from their
doctors. Other than the fact that they both had high
blood pressure -- which is a condition you'll find in
almost half of all males over the age of 45 -- they
didn't have any medical conditions in common."

"So. . .it's almost five. Scully and I will take these
records home and continue to dig. Chan will contact
the local police departments both men worked for and
alert them to the probability that we've got a serial
cop-killer on the loose. Chan, you'll also check our
own files, see if both men were ever students here."
"Will do, boss," Chan replied affably.
"Class dismissed," Scully said.
***
"Want to just take my car home?" Mulder suggested. "I
can drop you back here on my way in tomorrow morning.
It seems silly for both of us to fight Beltway
traffic."
"Sounds good to me, Mulder," Scully agreed.
On their way home, Mulder noticed that Scully kept
shooting glances at him and smiling. Finally he said,
"Okay, Scully, my finely-honed profile skills are
picking up on those looks. You got something you want
to tell me?"
"I was just thinking about something one of my
students had said," she replied. Then she relayed the
whole conversation she'd had with Okamata to him,
ending up with, "So I guess it's a good thing you
don't teach at the Academy full-time, Fox. You'd
probably have a whole host of nubile young
agents-in-training wanting some *very* personal
instruction from you."
Mulder chuckled. "Considering you'd be right down the
hall to shoot them if they suggested it, I kind of
doubt it, Dana. In any case, that sort of thing has
never appealed to me."
"What sort of thing?"
"The sort of romantic relationship where the guy is
considerably older and more experienced and better
educated and everything than the girl or woman he's
with. I've always sought romantic partners from among
my peers. And now I have you; believe me, sweetheart,
you're MORE than enough woman for me."
Scully smiled and reached over to pat his thigh.
***
Later that evening, after having retrieved Melissa
from her Grandma's house and spent several hours
eating dinner, playing with Melissa and their dog, and
getting their daughter off to bed, Mulder and Scully
settled down in their den to work on the case.
"Anything jumping out at you, no matter how
insignificant it may seem?" Mulder inquired after
they'd spent an hour going over both men's personal
and work histories.
"Just one item," Scully replied. "In both their
obituaries, one of their surviving relatives is listed
as a married daughter in Colorado Springs. It's just
barely possible that both men were visiting their
daughters at the same time and saw something that
somebody didn't want them seeing."
"It's slim, but at the moment it's the only lead we've
got, so let's run with it," Mulder said. "I'll call
both daughters first thing tomorrow morning and ask
them when the last time their fathers visited was.
I'll also find out exactly how close they live to each
other, things like that."
"Okay," Scully agreed. She was glad she'd come up with
the lead for two reasons. One was the purely
professional desire to provide a path for bringing a
cop killer to justice. The other was her desire for
her husband. Mulder had changed into a tank top and
shorts when they got home and he'd been munching on
sunflower seeds and wearing his reading glasses while
they were working and he looked. . . .really, really
good. She wanted that oral fixation of his directed
toward her, not those damned seeds!
"You ready for bed, Fox?"
"Not really. I may watch TV for a bit. You can go on
up if you're tired."
Damn, the man could be dense sometimes! But she wasn't
going to fall back into her premarital habit of
assuming he didn't want her just because they weren't
on the same wavelength at the exact same moment.
Leaning over the couch he was sitting on, she wrapped
her arms around his neck and nipped lightly at his
ear. "I didn't say I was tired, Mulder. I said I
wanted to go to bed. Now. With you. I want to make
love. I want to be naked with you. I want to. . ." she
paused form a moment, trying to decide *exactly* what
it was she wanted to do to him and have him do to her,
"to sixty-nine."
Mulder was instantly rock hard. He'd pointed out once
that just because he *believed* in extra-sensory
perception, that didn't mean he was a mind-reader;
that things would work better if she'd just tell him
what she wanted. She was certainly doing so!
"Come on," he said, reaching out so they could hold
hands while hurrying upstairs.
"What put this in mind?" Mulder asked as they reached
their bedroom and quietly closed the door. "It's been
a while since we. . .indulged in this particular
manner."
"Watching the way you work those sunflower seeds,"
Scully admitted. "It got me to craving your mouth on
me. But then I got distracted by your thighs, and
thinking about how good it felt to have you in my
mouth so I thought. . .why not both at once?"
"Mmm! Why not indeed?" Mulder asked. They were both
naked by now, having shed their clothes quickly and
carelessly, with the ease of longtime lovers. They
hadn't really kissed yet, though, and he remedied that
situation immediately, diving directly in for a deep,
open-mouthed kiss.
"Oh, yeah!" Scully murmured when his lips finally left
hers.
"I can do that somewhere else," Mulder offered.
"Please!" Scully said.
Mulder maneuvered them to the bed and laid Scully
down, then crawled over beside her. Ever the
gentleman, he positioned them so that her head was on
the pillow and his near the foot of the bed. Lying on
his side, he lifted one of her legs and licked lightly
at the juncture of her hip and thigh, smiling in
masculine pride when she whimpered at his action.
Mulder parted her lower lips and smiled. She was open
and throbbing. He dove in tongue-first and felt more
than heard Scully's gasp of pleasure. Grabbing her ass
with both hands, he proceeded to eat at her
passionately.
Scully moaned as Mulder moved his mouth against her.
Damn, he was good! And as if what he was doing between
her legs wasn't enough of a turn-on, he was also
flexing his fingers against her bottom, providing a
sensual massage to that part of her anatomy.
Wasn't there something she was supposed to be doing?
Scully thought hazily. Oh, yeah. Returning the
pleasure. Taking that big, swollen cock of Mulder's
--- the one that was just inches away from her face --
into her mouth. Turning her head slightly, she licked
him up and down like an ice cream cone, then began to
slowly suck him into her mouth.
Mulder gave a groan that vibrated against Scully's
body, making her shudder in response. Which in turn
made her gulp at him, trying to take him in more
deeply. This game of erotic tag, with each spouse
trying to make the other's pleasure intensify, kept on
'til both were about to explode.
Finally, Scully began to pump herself heedlessly
against Mulder's mouth, desperate to reach climax.
Just as she came, she reflexively sucked on Mulder as
hard she could and squeezed his balls, which she'd
been lightly palming. The result was that he came at
the same time.
When both had stopped throbbing, Mulder slowly eased
around so that his face was next to Scully's on the
pillow.
"Sorry 'bout that," he murmured. "I know you prefer to
give me blow jobs more as a form of foreplay than as a
substitute for the main event, but I got kind of
carried away."
"That's okay, Fox," she murmured, on the verge of
falling asleep. A killer orgasm always wore her out.
"Variety is the spice of life and all that jazz." Then
she cuddled closer to him and was out like a light.
***
Early the next afternoon, Mulder showed up at Scully's
office.
"Okay, I think we've got something here, and I've got
an idea of how to pursue it, but I want to run it by
you first."
"What have you got, Mulder?"
"Both men did, indeed, visit their daughters and
grandchildren less than a month before they were
murdered. It wasn't at the same time -- our second vic
didn't even visit until the first was already dead --
but they have granddaughters the same age and went to
a lot of the same places. I think our best bet would
be to go out Colorado and act like we're a new family
moving into the neighborhood where, apparently, a
killer of grandfather-cops lives."
"You want me to ask my Mom to watch Melissa?" Scully
asked.
"No, she's an integral part of my plan. In any case,
we're talking maybe a month or more undercover. I know
neither of us would want to be away from her that
long."
"Mulder, I'm not going to put Melissa into danger. I
don't care how many cops' lives it might save!"
"Do you think I'd even suggest this if there was the
slightest hint of danger to our daughter?" Mulder
demanded.
"No. . .no, of course not, Mulder. I'm sorry I said
that. What's your plan?"
"We move into the neighborhood. After a week or two
"Grandpa" comes to visit. He spends a lot of time
taking Melissa out to parks and stuff and makes it
known he's an FBI agent. We also tell all our new
found acquaintances about "Grandpa's" occupation, just
so word gets around. Then "Grandpa" goes back home and
is kept under surveillance until somebody tries to
kill him. Melissa would never be in any danger. Even
you and I wouldn't be in any danger. The only person
who would be at risk would be the grandfather and even
his killing would happen far away from where we were."

"Okay, the only flaw I see in your plan is that
Melissa doesn't *have* a grandfather, much less one
that's in law enforcement."
"True," Mulder agreed with a small smile. "But she has
an older man in her life who -- as you yourself once
pointed out -- she seems to regard as a grandfather.
And he just happens to be an Assistant Director for
the FBI."
"Skinner?"
"Unless Melissa has met up with some *other* AD and
begun to regard him as a grandfather."
"The problem with that is that while Skinner's in his
early 50s -- which is certainly the right age for a
man to be the grandfather of a toddler -- he's not old
enough to be either your father or mine. Let's face
it, Fox, we were both what the doctor politely
referred to as "mature parents" when Melissa was
born."
"Yeah, but you look younger. You could easily pass
for, say, 32 instead of 39. And I doubt that anybody's
going to inquire too closely as to Skinner's *exact*
age. In any case, some men can and do father children
when they're only 18 or 19. He shows up, you introduce
him as your father, he refers to Melissa as his
granddaughter. . .I don't think there will be too many
questions."
"Well, let's run it by him."
***
A few hours later, both agents were sitting in
Skinner's office, outlining the plan to him.
"I'm willing to do it, agents. In fact, I'd enjoy the
chance to do some undercover work again, especially if
it's going to put a cop killer behind bars. But I
think we've overlooked one aspect of the situation."
"What's that, sir?" Scully asked.
"Both the men who were killed were married and brought
their wives -- the children's grandmothers -- with
them to Colorado Springs on their visit. I'm not
married. I suppose we could try to find a mature woman
agent to go undercover with us."
"I've got what I think may be a better idea," Scully
suggested. "Why don't I just ask my own mother to come
out at the same time? The two of you can both be
visiting us and, of course, Melissa calls her Grandma.
That would solve the nagging problem of why Melissa
doesn't actually say 'Grandpa' when talking with you;
we can just say the whole family -- even your wife and
granddaughter -- call you Skinner."
"Works for me, if you think your mother would be game
for it," Skinner replied.
"We'll go now and ask her," Mulder said. "It's about
time for us to head over there, anyway."
As they got into the car, Scully noticed that Mulder
was trying -- but not completely succeeding -- in
hiding a grin. "What's so funny, Mulder?"
"I'm just thinking of Bill Junior's reaction to all
this. He thinks it's bad enough that I get his sister
involved in my schemes. What's he going to say to the
idea of his mother and favorite niece going along for
the ride?"
Scully giggled. "He'll survive. And, unless I'm very
wrong, I think my mother will get a kick out of the
idea."
***
Once they had arrived and greeted Melissa, Mulder and
Scully explained the plan to to Maggie.
"It sounds like fun, sweetheart," Maggie said. "Being
as Colorado is landlocked, it's one of the few states
I never had a chance to visit during all my years as
the wife and mother of Navy officers. The only thing
is. . .Mr. Skinner and I. . .I mean, if I'm supposed
to pretend to be married to him. . ."
"Just in public, Maggie," Mulder assured her. "We'll
make sure we get a four- or five-bedroom house -- it's
an upscale neighborhood and most of the houses have
that many bedrooms anyway -- so you'll have your own
private sleeping accommodations. When the five of us
are "at home" so to speak, you and Skinner can treat
each other like the casual acquaintances you are."

"You might, possibly, be called upon to let him hold
your hand or call you 'honey' or something when the
two of you take Melissa out to the park or McDonald's
or someplace like that," Scully said, "but I can't see
that it would be anything that would violate your
religious beliefs. For heaven's sake, Mom, it's not
like he's going to bite you!"
Scully was never quite sure, but she thought her
mother whispered "pity" under her breath to that last
comment.
***
A couple of weeks later, Mulder and Scully put the
first part of their plan into action. After three days
of driving cross country with Melissa and Elvis, their
dog, they arrived late one afternoon at their new
"home"; a fancy, five-bedroom house in the same upper
middle class neighborhood of Colorado Springs where
the daughters of both the victims had lived. They'd
selected the house over the internet and had leased it
from the builder for six months with an option to
buy.A couple of movers were already in the process of
unloading their new furniture from a van. Because they
weren't really moving -- just going undercover in the
neighborhood for, they hoped, no more than a month or
two -- they'd left almost all their own things at
their home in Maryland and arranged for the bureau to
ship new furniture to the new house. It could always
be used in safe houses or something of that nature at
a later time. The few boxes of personal items they'd
felt they couldn't do without for any length of time
were in their trunk, along with their suitcases.
Since the idea was to set Skinner -- in his own
identity as an Assistant Director of the FBI -- up as
a possible victim for the cop killer, they hadn't
altered their own identities too much. Mulder had
suggested that he just continue to work as a criminal
profiler out of one of the FBI field offices in
Colorado, but it was eventually agreed that having
both Mulder and his erstwhile father-in-law working
for the FBI might be regarded as suspicious. Instead,
a series of high level negotiations between the
Justice Department and the military had netted him a
temporary post as a civilian psychologist performing
evaluations for duty at the Air Force Academy. It
would be real work -- the Air Force would actually
make job assignments based on his assessments of the
candidates -- but it would end as soon as Mulder's
presence in Colorado was deemed unnecessary.
Scully had been offered the choice of working or not
during the weeks they were undercover. One of the
victims' daughters had been a full-time homemaker,
while the other had worked part-time, so neither
choice was deemed essential to their assignment. She
had opted simply to take the role of a stay-at-home
mother during the time they were there.
For the most part, they were using their own names and
backgrounds. He was still Fox William Mulder and their
daughter was Melissa Samantha Mulder, as always.
However, for the length of time they were in Colorado,
Dana's last name was officially Mulder and her maiden
name had been Skinner, not Scully. He was an
Oxford-educated psychologist, but he'd done consulting
work -- not criminal profiling -- prior to moving out
west. They were still arriving from Maryland, where
they'd lived not far from her "parents". Dana's own
professional background -- should anyone ask -- was
still in medicine, but she'd switched herself from a
doctor who'd taught at Quantico to a nurse who'd
worked in an emergency room prior to giving birth and
embarking on full-time motherhood. Mulder's birthday
was still the same; Scully had kept the same date and
month but had knocked off six years so that she was --
just barely -- officially young enough to be Skinner's
daughter, should anyone bother to check their mutual
ages.
"Wow, this is nice," Scully said, wandering around the
house. It was certainly bigger than anything she'd
ever lived in growing up or than their house in
Maryland. And brand new, too. There were four bedrooms
and two full bathrooms upstairs. Downstairs was the
master suite, a half-bath, a large living room, formal
dining room, spacious kitchen with breakfast nook and
two other rooms that could be used as dens, playrooms,
exercise rooms or whatever.
While the movers were still unloading, a few of the
neighbors knocked on the door to introduce themselves.
Like Mulder and Scully, they were professional couples
with small children. One family consisted of a
husband, his *very* pregnant wife and their
three-year-old daughter, while another consisted of a
husband and wife with twin boys a few months younger
than Melissa.
After the movers and neighbors had left, Mulder looked
at Scully and said, "You certainly seem to be enjoying
this".
"Well, moving into a new house -- even if it's only
for a month or two -- brings back lots of memories for
me, mostly happy ones."
"Memories of when you were growing up as a Navy brat,
you mean?"
"Those, sure. But also memories of us; times we've
done something similar to this together."
Mulder looked faintly puzzled. "Something similar to
this? The only time I can remember us doing something
even *vaguely* similar to to this was that time we
went undercover in Arcadian Falls, about a year before
we got married."
"That's part of what I was remembering. That was fun.
But I was also thinking of the time we went out to
Hawaii shortly after we were married. In some ways --
I guess this sounds kind of silly -- but I still sort
of think of the bureau-maintained apartment in
Honolulu as our first home. It was the first place we 
ever lived openly together."
"That doesn't sound 'silly' Dana; it's very sweet. But
I do object to your description of the week we spent
in Arcadian Falls as 'fun'. It was the most
frustrating experience of my entire life!"
"It wasn't exactly easy for me, either, Fox."
"You could have responded positively to one of the
8,000 sexual innuendos I made that week. Then neither
of us would have been frustrated."
"I didn't know you were serious; I thought you were
just teasing me. How was I to know you really wanted
to my lover?"
"If there was one thing that whole experience in the
Stepford Subdivision made clear to me, it was that I
*didn't* want to be your lover!"

"Huh?" asked Scully, now thoroughly confused.
"I wanted to be your husband. I didn't want a
temporary, clandestine sexual relationship with you. I
wanted an on-the-record, out-in-the-open,
for-long-as-we-both-shall-live sexual relationship
with you."

Scully couldn't think of an answer to that, so she
kissed him instead. It was beginning to deepen --
she'd just slipped the tip of her tongue into his
slightly open lips -- when a small hand tugged at her
leg.
"Mommy?"
"Umm, what Melissa?"
"Daddy bye-bye?"
Scully laughed softly and bent to scoop up her
daughter. "No, sweetie, Daddy's not going bye-bye.
Mommy just wanted to kiss Daddy. Because I love him."
"Lissa kiss!"
Scully promptly began covering her daughter's chubby
cheeks with kisses while the little girl giggled. When
she finally stopped, Melissa said, "Daddy kiss!" and
reached for her father. Mulder repeated the process
and then sat down in an easy chair, pulling both
Melissa and Dana into his lap.
"Do you know I can't believe that for years I thought
this would be boring?" he inquired, nuzzling Dana's
ear with his nose while tousling Melissa's hair with
his hand.
"What?"
"Marriage, kids, pets, the whole shebang. I would have
never believed that a single hour of being a Daddy
would provide more thrills and satisfaction than an
entire career of alien-busting. But it does."
"You just needed to reach the time in your life when
you were ready for it, Fox. You probably wouldn't have
been a good father -- or not *as* good of one, anyway
-- when you were in your 20s or early 30s. Same for
me. If I'd gotten married right of high school, had my
first baby at 19, the way my mother did. . .I would
most likely have resented my child. There were other
things we both wanted to accomplish in our lives
before we tackled parenthood."
Melissa, apparently bored with this conversation,
scrambled off her father's lap and toddled across the
living room. "Tairs!" she announced at the foot of the
staircase.
"Oh, heck, I guess we need to put up safety gates at
the top and bottom, like we have at home," Scully said
as she followed her daughter and hovered over her.
Mulder got up and stood beside them, then shook his
head. "I don't think so. There are only six steps to
the landing, which is nice and broad, then another six
steps to the second story. Both the landing and the
area at the foot of the steps are covered with deep,
soft carpet. We'll watch her and try to help her climb
the stairs, but if she tumbles, it's not like she's
going to do herself any serious damage. She's got to
learn how to go up and down stairs at some point;
she's almost two."
Scully opened her mouth to protest, then said, "Yeah,
I guess you're right."
"You mean I win? Just like that? Without any
argument?"
"Mom actually said something to me the other day about
being an overprotective mother; that I needed to
loosen up. We'll consider this the first step in me
untying the apron strings just a tiny bit."
That night, when they tried to put Melissa to bed, she
cried and clutched at them.
"I think she's nervous being in a strange house,"
Scully said. "We'll let her sleep in our bed with us
tonight. I don't like this floor arrangement as much
as the one at home, anyway. Here the master bedroom is
downstairs."
"There's an intercom," Mulder pointed out. "We can
hear if she wakes up in the middle of the night."
"I just think, for tonight, we'll all be more
comfortable in the same room."
Mulder opened his mouth to protest, but promptly shut
it again. Scully had given in to him on the stairgate
issue, so he'd let her be the parent to decide this
situation. Besides, he admitted to himself, his
motives for not having Melissa sleep in their bed were
mostly selfish. The past two nights -- long days of
driving followed by nights sleeping in the same motel
room with both their daughter and their dog -- hadn't
exactly provided much chance for romance. After the
kissing and conversation earlier this evening in the
living room, he'd been looking forward to making love
with his wife tonight. But he could wait another day
or two, if necessary. At least this time around --
unlike the whole fiasco in San Diego several years
earlier -- he knew that he'd eventually get lucky.
As the three of them cuddled together on the brand
new, king-sized bed in the master bedroom, Mulder
said, "You don't suppose this is going to do any kind
of psychological damage to Melissa, do you? I mean,
uprooting her from her home for a couple of months,
then going back?"
"I sincerely doubt it, Mulder. To a child under the
age of three, 'home' is wherever their parents are.
Melissa's not going to differentiate between the fact
that we're supposedly living here and the times we've
spent a week at the beach house in Rhode Island or a
few nights in a motel room. She's got Mommy and Daddy
with her, that's all that really matters to her at
this point in her life. But that is the main reason I
elected just to be a full-time mother during our stay
here. We would have had to put her in some sort of
formal daycare if I were working even part-time, and
I'm not ready for that."
Mulder shuddered slightly. "Me neither. Call me
paranoid if you must, but the idea of anybody but us
or your Mom looking after Melissa scares me to death."
"In a year or so, we'll probably need to seriously
consider some sort of nursery school or Mother's Day
Out program, for at least one or two mornings a week.
Eventually, she's going to have to be entrusted to the
care of someone other than family members."
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Hey, you
said that was the *main* reason you elected not to
have a career as part of your cover. Was there
something else?"
"Mostly I just wanted to spend more time with her. I
guess this sounds silly, but sometimes I get almost. .
. jealous of my own mother. She spends just about as
many of Melissa's waking hours with her as I do and I
sometimes feel that Melissa is more attached to
Grandma than she is to Mommy."
"No way, Dana! Having a loving, involved grandmother
like Maggie is a blessing for Melissa, but it's always
been obvious to me that the two of you have a
wonderful mother-daughter relationship. I've seen the
way Melissa's face lights up whenever you come into a
room."
"She loves you, too."
"Yeah, I've noticed that."
By this time, the object of their discussion was
sleeping. Her eyelashes lay still against her cheeks
and her breathing was soft and regular.
"Are you tired?" Scully asked Mulder, reaching out to
run her foot gently along his shin.
"Not particularly. Why?" He was trying not to get his
hopes up, but Scully had *that* smile on her face; the
one that was usually a prelude to a suggestion of
something that had nothing to do with work or
parenting.
"Did you see the size of that Jacuzzi in the
bathroom?" she asked. "I'm sure it's big enough for
two."
Mulder slid quietly out of bed and walked into the
bathroom. He'd only been wearing his boxer-briefs and
he slid those off as soon as he started the water.
Scully was right behind him, unbuttoning the sleep
shirt she'd been wearing and letting it pool around
her ankles before stepping out of it.
They scrambled into the oversized tub and snuggled
together, Scully sitting on her husband's lap, her
back against his chest. Mulder leaned over her
shoulder and captured her mouth in a deep kiss. After
they'd turned off the water, however, she switched
positions so that they were face-to-face, straddling
his thighs with her own.
"I want to see you tonight," she explained. "To look
into your eyes when we make love."
"Whatever you want, sweetheart." He captured her face
with his hands and kissed her again, teasing her lips
with his tongue until she gave a feral growl and wound
her arms around his neck to get full access to his
mouth.
"You've got the prettiest breasts," he murmured,
caressing them as they floated lazily atop the water.
"They're -- mmm! -- so little. The only time they were
ever of a decent size was when I was pregnant and
nursing Melissa."
"They're perfect," he assured her. And because he
thought so, she quit arguing.
"You look so sexy like this," she said. "Just your
head and shoulders and about half of your bare chest
visible above the water. . .leaving me to speculate on
what's going on below."
"Like you have any doubts?" he asked, pulling her
slightly forward so that her auburn curls bumped
against his rock hard erection.
"Is this really going to work?" Scully inquired. "I
mean, with both of us, um, submerged?"
Mulder shrugged. "We'll try it and see, I guess. If it
doesn't, we'll move out of the tub."
Scully lowered herself onto him. After a few minutes
of wiggling and arching, she said, "Fox, this feels
good but somehow. . .I'm not getting enough. .
.traction or something."
"Here," he said. Wrapping one arm securely around her
hips so that they remained joined, he used the other
to lever himself up enough so that he was sitting on
the marble edge surrounding the tub, with his feet and
the lower portion of his legs still in the water. The
stonework was surprisingly cold against his naked butt
and thighs; however, it provided an intriguing
contrast to the heat surrounding his feet and his
cock.
Scully wrapped her legs all the way around his waist
and squeezed him tightly. Their bodies were still wet
and slippery, but now she could maneuver a bit better.
Mulder also began to vibrate his thighs, bouncing her
gently. However, it wasn't until he hauled her tightly
against him and bent her upper torso back enough so
that he could latch onto one of her breasts and lave
her nipple with his tongue, while lightly pinching the
other nipple with his fingers, that she came.
"Wow!" she murmured when she'd stopped throbbing and
panting.
"Can we kind of switch positions?" Mulder asked. "So
that you're sitting on the edge of the tub and I'm
above you?"
"Sure," Scully agreed. But she gave a little gasp when
her bare ass settled on the cold marble.
"I know," Mulder said. "It's cold after being in the
warm water. But you won't notice it after a minute."
Scully was pretty sure that after a minute she
wouldn't have noticed if an elephant had marched
through the bathroom. Mulder was smiling down at her
and thrusting into her at a hard, steady pace. She
grasped his biceps and hung on; her ass skittered
against the marble with every thrust but damn it felt
*SO* good! He came with a harsh groan of her name.
"You're going to have to watch that, you know, while
we're undercover," she murmured, covering his face
with gentle kisses.
"Watch what?"
"Calling me Scully. It's not officially part of my
name for this assignment. I'm Dana Katherine Skinner
Mulder now."'
"I mostly call you Dana nowadays anyway."
'That's true, you do. So why'd you growl 'Scully' into
my ear just now?"
"Doing a bit of time traveling, I suppose. Thinking
about that time in Arcadia and how much I would have
liked to have done this with you then. And I always
called you Scully back in those days."
"Mmm. Ready for bed?"
"Sure am."
***
The next week past quickly and pleasantly for the
Mulder family. They attended Mass at the local
Catholic church, signed up for a trial membership at a
health club their neighbors recommended and learned
their way around town. Dana was especially fond of an
open air farmers market she'd found just minutes away
from their house and a park with a special
toddler-scaled playground. The weather was delightful
-- crisp and cool enough for jeans and long sleeves,
but sunny and not cold enough to make staying outside
for hours at a time uncomfortable, even for Melissa.
"So, do you like it here?" Dana asked her husband on
Friday evening.
"It's a nice change from Washington," Mulder admitted.
"It's kind of enjoyable to use my psychology skills to
work with people who are basically normal and just
find out whether or not they're up to the rigors of,
say, flying supersonic jets, rather than spending all
my time analyzing the minds of wackos and deviants."
"Do I sense a 'but' at the end of that statement?"
Scully inquired.
"I remember what you said the first night we were
here, about this situation reminding you of our time
in Hawaii. I feel that way, too. I mean, it's hard to
imagine two states more dissimilar than Colorado and
Hawaii and our personal situation is different, as
well; there's a big difference between being newlyweds
hiding our marriage from the bureau and being an
openly acknowledged  married couple with a daughter
who's nearly two. Yet the *feel*of it is the same.
It's our real life yet, at the same time, our real
life is what we'll be going back to in Washington when
this case is over."
"You don't like this neighborhood, do you?"
"It's not as bad as Arcadian Falls with all their
rules and regulations," Mulder replied quickly. "But I
prefer the multiethnic, multigenerational composition
of our neighborhood in Maryland; with a black family
next door and an elderly couple across the street. I
mean, you *have* noticed that everybody in this
neighborhood is pretty much a clone of us, haven't
you? Everybody's white, all the adults are in their
30s and 40s and everybody has one or two children
under the age of 12. I keep wondering where all the
old people are, where all the teenagers are, where all
the racial minorities are?"
"Well, it's a brand new neighborhood, Fox," Dana
pointed out reasonably. "You'd have to expect it to
mostly be populated by younger families with small
children. As for racial minorities. . .there simply
aren't as many of them in states like Colorado and
Utah as there are in the D.C. area. Also, it's an
expensive neighborhood; although there's been a lot of
progress in narrowing the gap during the past couple
of decades, non-white families are still less likely
to have income levels in the upper brackets."
"Dana. . . .if you really like this lifestyle. . .I
mean, there are houses and neighborhoods similar to
this in Maryland and Virginia. And it's not as if we
can't afford it; God knows, my parents left me more
than enough money to live as lavishly as we might
wish."
"No, I like our house. I like our neighbors. We live
close to where we both work and close to my mother.
It's just that, unlike you, I can see the upside to a
neighborhood like this."

"Meaning?"
"If this was my actual life. . .if I really was going
to be a full-time, stay-at-home mother for the next
several years. . .I think I'd want to live in a
neighborhood similar to this. I've met more mothers
with kids near Melissa's age during the one week we've
been here than I have in the past 18 months in
Maryland. But at home that's not so much of an issue.
I work three days a week and mostly just want to hang
out at home with Melissa or need to run errands on the
days I'm off."
Mulder nodded. "So, what time are your Mom and Skinner
getting in?"
"Monday at three. Melissa and I will pick them up at
the airport and your 'in-laws' should be waiting at
home to greet you when you return from work. Do you
have an itinerary of where we're supposed to take
them?"
"Yes, Chan faxed it to me at the office today. He's
spent several hours over the past week talking with
the victims' daughters and widows. He's
cross-referenced every place both men went while they
were here. Parks, restaurants, stores, museums; most
of them are in this neighborhood or are recognized
tourist attractions, so it won't be considered at all
odd for us to go to them with Skinner and your Mom."
"I hope this works although, at the same time, I worry
about putting Skinner's life in danger. He's not just
our boss, he's our best friend. As we said when we
began this, he really *is* the closest thing to a
grandfather Melissa has."
"Both the victims were shot in the chest, while off
duty, within a week of returning from Colorado
Springs," Mulder pointed out. "During that time,
Skinner will wear a bulletproof vest at all times
except, I guess, when he's in the shower. He'll also
be kept under surveillance by other members of the
bureau. And let's remember that he didn't make it
through a tour of duty as a Marine in Vietnam, then
another 15 years as an FBI field agent, by being
stupid or careless or weak. He's tough and he's smart
and he knows what he's up against."

***

Maggie Scully was having the time of her life.
Although she'd never really been bitten by the women's
liberation bug that had effected so many middle class
women back in the 1970s -- being a Navy wife and the
mother of four children had always been more than
enough of a "career" for her -- she'd found her
younger daughter's profession to be fascinating and
had sometimes daydreamed of what it would be like to
take part in one of her undercover assignments. . .and
here she was, doing it exactly like that.
Having an attractive man in the vicinity of her own
age pretending to be her husband was a nice bonus.
Maggie had no serious desire to marry again; she had a
full, happy life with her children, her grandchildren,
her siblings, her friends, her church activities and
her voracious reading. But sometimes she simply got
tired of being an older, unescorted woman. Unlike
women accompanied by men, or young, attractive women,
or even elderly women who were obviously in need of
special attention, middle-aged women traveling by
themselves were often routinely ignored in
restaurants, stores and other so-called "service"
establishments.
She'd often thought that Dana and Fox's boss was a
nice-looking man. There was nothing more to it than
that. He was a good seven or eight years younger than
she was and she was well aware that attractive,
professional men in their early 50s dated -- if they
chose to date -- women in their 30s or 40s, not
60-year-old grandmothers.
"So, I suppose we should get to know each other a
little better, if we're going to be believable,"
Skinner suggested.
"Yes, that's a good idea, Mr. Skinner."
He chuckled. "First of all, it's just Skinner. That's
what Mulder and Scully, er, Dana and Fox, call me.
Even Melissa calls me that, or tries to; she actually
says Kinner."
"What's your first name?"
"Walter, but I hate it. It was my grandfather's name
and I always thought it belonged to someone of his
generation."
"You were married at one time, weren't you?"
"For quite a while," he replied. "I've been divorced
for the past six years."
"No thoughts of marrying again?"
Skinner shrugged. "My job keeps me pretty busy. Hell,
Mulder alone keeps me pretty busy! I'm not saying I
wouldn't consider it, if I happened to meet the right
woman, but at the same time. . .I wasn't successful at
marriage the first time I tried it, and I don't really
know that I've changed, so the end result might not be
any different."
"You and your ex-wife never had children?"
"No."
"Were you childless by choice?" Maggie asked, then --
before he could answer -- added, "I'm sorry, Skinner.
That's a very personal issue and it's none of my
business. Please forgive me for even mentioning it."
Skinner smiled slightly. "No forgiveness is necessary,
Maggie. In fact, although it's not an issue I've
discussed with many people, I don't mind talking about
it with you. We were childless by Sharon's choice, not
mine. I would have welcomed children."
"She didn't want children?"
"I can't accuse Sharon of deliberately misleading me.
What she actually said, back when we were engaged, was
that she wasn't sure if she'd ever want children. I
chose to interpret her statement as meaning she didn't
want children within the first couple of years of our
marriage and I was okay with that. I figured that, as
time went on, she'd eventually decide she wanted them.
Or we'd have an 'accident' that she might initially be
upset about but would soon adjust to and be happy
about. But neither of those things ever happened. Her
career was going great guns and the time just never
seemed right -- in her opinion, anyway -- to start a
family. And she was careful; she took care of all the
birth control, never asked me to assume responsibility
for making sure our marriage remained barren.""So that
was what led to your divorce?"
"When she left me," Skinner said slowly, "she said it
was because I was too obsessed with my career, didn't
share enough with her, wasn't home enough. All those
things are probably true; I'm not going to claim that
the problems within our marriage were all her fault.
It's just that, after about a decade, rushing home
every night so we could hit the hottest new restaurant
and discuss our careers began to get boring. Maybe if
we'd changed the focus of our lives, added children, I
would have wanted to spend more time at home."The two
of them spent the rest of the flight engrossed in
conversation so that by the time they landed they were
easily able to carry of the illusion of a long-married
couple. It was helped by the fact that as soon as they
disembarked they were met by Melissa, who gripped both
their necks in ecstasy; neither one of them had to
"pretend" that they loved her.
***
When Mulder arrived home that evening, he was greeted
by Melissa and Dana, as usual. As he kissed them both
he asked -- while standing in the doorway and in a
voice loud enough for any of the neighbors who
happened to be outside to hear -- if her parents had
made their flight.
"Yes, Mom and Dad got in right on time," Scully
replied, her own voice slightly louder than usual.
Mulder entered the house and said, "Hi, Maggie,"
giving her a kiss on the cheek. He vaguely wondered if
their whole plan might be undermined by the fact that
-- unlike, apparently, the vast majority of men in the
world -- he was honestly happy to have his
mother-in-law come to visit.
"Hi, Skinner," he said.
"Hello, son," Skinner replied. The two men greeted
each other as they always had, with a handshake.
"Son?" Mulder asked.
"It's what my father-in-law always called me," Skinner
said with a shrug. "Like you, I dislike being
addressed by my first name and it seems a little odd
for an older man to call a younger family member by
his last name."
"What did your wife call you?" Scully asked. It was a
question she'd been curious about in the past, but
they'd never been an appropriate time to ask it
before.
"Walter occasionally, but usually Honey or Hon,"
Skinner answered. "Right near the end of our marriage,
I sometimes think she was tempted to add 'Attila the'
in front of it."
Mulder chuckled.
"Mom cooked," Scully said. "I told her she didn't have
to, but she insisted."
As they were eating, Mulder asked a question that he'd
occasionally wondered about over the years. "Maggie,
if Dana's father was still alive, do you think he and
I would have gotten along?"
Maggie and Dana looked at each other for a long
moment. Then Dana raised one eyebrow slightly and sort
of nodded at her mother as if to say: the question was
addressed to you, so you field it.
"Probably not at first," Maggie said. "It wouldn't
have been anything personal, it's just that he didn't
think *any* man could ever possibly be good enough for
either one of his precious daughters. But Bill Junior
is a lot like his father and I think the relationship
would have preceded along much the same lines. Once he
got accustomed to the idea -- and especially once he
saw how happy Dana was with you -- he'd have become
attached to you."
"Do you think your parents would have liked me?" Dana
asked.
"My mother *did* like you," Mulder replied. "The last
few conversations I had with her centered specifically
around when I was going to get off my duff and make
that pretty partner of mine into her daughter-in-law.
As for my Dad. . .sure, I guess so. I don't think
fathers have as much emotional investment in who their
sons marry as they do with their daughters, or as
mothers do with kids of either gender. Dad just would
have been glad I was married and a father; that was
always kind of important to him. . .carrying on the
family name and all that jazz."
After dinner, Skinner said, "I need to talk with
Mulder -- and Dana, too, if she feels she has anything
to add -- about the case."
"You can just talk with Fox," Dana said. "He's already
shared his theories with me. On this part of the case,
I'm really more window-dressing than an active
participant; I haven't done anything in the labs since
my initial autopsy and ballistics match-up. Mom and I
will clean up the kitchen and then get Melissa ready
for bed."
***
As Skinner and Mulder closed the door and settled down
in the den, Skinner asked, "So what are we looking
for? Any ideas *why* these cops were killed?"
"My best guess, at this point, is that the perpetrator
had a grandfather in law enforcement and suffered some
sort of abuse -- probably sexual -- at his hands. So
now he or she is trying to 'save' other children from
the same fate by killing off grandfather cops."
"He or she? You don't even have an assumption of
whether or not the killer is male or female?"
"Not on this case," Mulder replied. "The vast majority
of serial killers are men, so I'd be inclined to say
male simply for that reason. But the younger victim
had only one grandchild and she was a girl, so maybe
we're looking for a female killer."
"Do you have *any* kind of profile of the killer?"
"Almost certainly white. The victims were both white
and serial killers very rarely choose victims from
outside their own race. Probably young. Intelligent,
but most likely an underachiever who is working in a
job far below his or her actual abilties."

"So what am I supposed to do, just run around
announcing to anyone who will listen that I'm an
Assistant Director with the FBI and I'm here visiting
my granddaughter?"
"Well, don't be quite so blatant about it but pretty
much so, yeah. My guess is the killer will probably
try to engage you at conversation in some point, so be
on the lookout for that. Wear your gun; the bulge
under your jacket will be an indication that you're in
law enforcement."
As soon as Melissa had been put to bed -- an event
that took quite a while, as she wanted each adult
present to rock and sing to her and kept getting up
and moving to another lap as soon as she started to
grow sleepy -- Mulder, Scully, Skinner and Maggie sat
down in the living room.
Mulder was uneasily aware that he didn't actually know
what to *do* with houseguests. Maggie lived close
enough to their house in Maryland that she rarely
spent the night. When Charles came into town, he and
Christa stayed with Maggie, not with Dana and Fox.
Mulder himself had no family other than his wife and
daughter and his only friends, other than Skinner,
were the Lone Gunmen; and they, like Maggie, lived too
close for overnight visits.
"Umm, so does anybody want to play cards?" Mulder
suggested.
"Play cards?" Scully echoed, confused. She remembered
that Bill Junior had taken Mulder to a poker game once
when they visited him in California, but that was the
only time she could ever remember her husband showing
any interest in cards.
"It's what my parents usually did when my grandparents
visited when I was a kid," Mulder explained.
Maggie, feeling a little sorry for her son-in-law in
his role as inexperienced host, said, "Sure, Fox. That
sounds like a lovely idea."
When it was finally time for bed, Skinner noticed that
Dana had strategically placed him and Maggie at
complete opposite ends of the upstairs hallway, with
Melissa's room, both bathrooms and an empty bedroom
between them. Did she think his temporary role as
Maggie's 'husband' might tempt him into an attack on
her mother's virtue? he wondered with silent
amusement. Maggie Scully was a very nice woman -- he'd
really enjoyed talking to her on the flight out -- but
he couldn't imagine being sexually attracted to a
post-menopausal grandmother.
***
Over the next few days, Mulder continued to go to work
at the Air Force Academy while Scully took Melissa and
her "parents" to various tourist attractions, the park
and other places of interest.
On Thursday afternoon, Mulder wasn't met at the door
as per usual. He supposed he was getting spoiled, but
he'd become accustomed to having his wife and daughter
fling open the door as soon as his car pulled into the
driveway and greet him with kisses. He knew everybody
was home, because Dana's car -- one they'd leased for
a short terrm while undercover in Colorado -- was in
the garage.
When he walked in, he found Skinner and Dana sitting
in the study. Skinner was talking on the phone, asking
for a background check and giving details.
"What's up?" Mulder asked in a whisper to his wife.
"And where are your Mom and Melissa?"
"Mom and Melissa are upstairs, playing in her room.
This is business; we think we have a possible lead."
"What happened?" Mulder asked, drawing her out into
the hall after Skinner shot them a stern look and
gestured at the phone he was holding.
"The four of us went to the park this afternoon as
soon as Melissa woke up from her nap. While we were
there, a blonde woman in her early 20s began chatting
with us. She seemed *very* interested in the fact that
'Grandpa' was an assistant director for the FBI. We
asked her name and now Skinner's requesting a
background check on her. Of course, that's presuming
she gave us her real name. If she's our killer, she
might not have."
"How'd she give it?" Mulder asked.
"What did you mean?"
"Did she hesitate or ask you why you wanted to know or
anything?"
"Nope. Skinner introduced himself first and then
introduced me as his daughter, Mom as his wife and
Melissa as his granddaughter. I asked her name and she
gave it -- Kellie Dupree -- without any hesitation at
all."
"Probably her real name, then. And serial killers tend
to be arrogant. She might even get some sort of thrill
out of introducing herself to potential victims."
After Skinner had finished his phone call and the
three agents had discussed the situation for a while,
they decided to go out to dinner. There was only one
place left -- a rather upscale steakhouse -- on the
list of places that both victims had visited while in
Colorado. While it seemed less urgent now that they
had a lead, they'd go ahead and have dinner there.
Dana and her mother decided to dress up for dinner and
to dress Melissa up as well.
"She looks adorable," Mulder said when his wife
brought their daughter down stairs a little while
later, wearing a gingham dress with a starched
petticoat. "Is that a new dress?"
"Yes, Mom bought it for her at the mall where we went
shopping yesterday."
"It's fun having a little girl to buy pretty things
for," Maggie said with a smile.
"Didn't you get enough of that with two daughters of
your own?" Skinner inquired.
"Not really. For one thing, with four closely spaced
children and living on a junior Naval officer's
salary, we didn't have a lot of money to spend on
clothes when the girls were this little. I tended to
look for 'cheap and durable', rather than 'adorable'.
Also, *one* of my daughters," here Maggie shot an
amused glance at Dana, "started refusing to wear the
pretty little dresses I bought her any place other
than church practically as soon as she was old enough
to talk."
"How come she didn't fight about wearing a dress to
church?" Mulder asked.
"Because I knew it wouldn't do me any good," Dana
replied.
***
As soon as the five of them were seated -- Melissa in
a high chair -- at the steakhouse, their waiter, a
college-aged man, walked up to Skinner and said, "Sir,
you have what appears to be a firearm under your
jacket. State law prohibits anyone other than law
enforcement officers carrying weapons in places where
alcohol is served, as it is in this establishment".
"I'm a law enforcment officer," Skinner answered.
"If you're going to continue to wear your weapon while
dining here, I'll have to see your identification and
make a note of your badge number," the waiter replied.
Skinner nodded and pulled out his FBI identification
to show it to the waiter. "Wow, FBI," he said. "Are
you in the local office?"
"No, I"m an assistant director at FBI headquarters in
Washington ," Skinner said.
"Why are you here in Colorado? Or is that classified?"
the wide-eyed waiter inquired.
"My wife and I are here visiting our daughter and her
family," Skinner answered, gesturing toward Scully,
Melissa and Mulder. One thing his long years as a
field agent had taught him was that you never back
down from a cover story you've established until the
case is over. The waiter was close in age to their
suspect and the town wasn't that big; for all any of
them knew, he could be Kellie Dupree's boyfriend.
After establishing Skinner's right to be armed, the
waiter actually turned quite friendly. He played
peekaboo with Melissa over the top of the menus,
recommended specific dishes and urged them to try the
microbrew beer the restaurant had on tap.
"This is really *good* beer," Mulder said as he took
an appreciative swallow. "Do you sell it in bottles to
take home?"
"No sir, I'm afraid it's only available here at the
restaurant," the watier answered. "Keeps the customers
coming back. Would you like another?"
"Better not; I'm driving," Mulder replied regretfully.
"Toss me your keys and you can have as many beers as
you like," Skinner suggested. Mulder gave a quick
glance at Scully to make sure this idea met with her
approval and, at her barely perceptible nod, did as
his boss had suggested.
Scully and her mother each had a margarita; just one
apiece, but they were big and potent drinks. And
considering that both women were on the petite side,
Skinner figured that by the end of the meal the only
two completely sober people at their table were
himself and Melissa.
Melissa began her "toss a kiss game" while they were
eating dessert. Normally, Mulder and Scully would have
discouraged her from playing it in a public place, but
they were both a bit. . . mellow. . .by this point.
"Mommy!" Melissa said.
"Yes, Melissa?"
"Wuv ooo!" Melissa said, kissing her palm and blowing
at it in her mother's direction.
"I love you, too, Melissa," Scully said, blowing a
kiss back.
"Daddy!"
"Yes, Melissa?"
"Wuv ooo!" she replied, blowing a kiss at her father,
who returned the gesture and comment.
"Grandma!"
"Yes, Melissa?"
"Wuv ooo!"
Maggie played along.
"Kinner!

"Er, yes, Melissa?"
"Wuv ooo!" she said.
Skinner was more touched than he would have been
willing to admit. It was the first time he'd ever been
on the receiving end of such a gesture from a small
child.
"I love you, too, Melissa," he answered. Then, to the
amusement -- and utter amazement -- of Mulder and
Scully, he kissed his palm and blew it at Melissa.
It was dark by the time they left the restaurant and
Skinner insisted on carrying Melissa to the car, with
his other hand tucked solicitiously against the small
of Maggie Scully's back.
Mulder and Scully were a few paces behind the older
couple. Initially, Mulder had his hand in the same
position on Dana's back as her 'father' had on her
mother's back, but then he allowed his hand to drift
downward and gave her ass a squeeze. Scully let out a
tiny squeak in protest.
"Fox, stop that," she whispered.
"Why? We're married. And this time around we're
*really* married, not like that whole exercise in
frustration in Arcadian Falls. And one thing you've
never been, my darling Dana, is the kind of wife who
doesn't like her husband to touch her."
"Yes, but Mom and Skinner are only about two feet away
from us!"
"Dana, I may be a little tipsy but I'm not drunk
enough to have forgotten that he's not actually your
father. I don't think he cares if I grab your ass."
"I may be a little tipsy myself, Mulder, but I'm not
drunk enough to have forgotten that he's our boss! I
don't think he wants two of his agents getting frisky
in a parking lot!"
"How about the back seat?" Mulder asked with a wicked
grin, holding the door open for his wife.
Actually, the backseat proved to be less interesting
than Mulder might have hoped. He *had* been drunk
enough to have temporarily forgotten that Melissa's
car seat was right in the middle of the back; he and
Scully sat on either side of their daughter and the
most contact he could manage with her was a mild game
of footsie on the floor boards.
***

Melissa had fallen asleep in the car on the way back
home and Dana quietly tiptoed upstairs with her and
slid the pretty new dress off without completely
waking her. She figured Melissa could just sleep in
the petticoat and her diaper.
"Well, I hate to be a party pooper, but I think I'm
going to follow Melissa's lead and head for bed,"
Maggie said with a yawn. "That margarita packed quite
a wallop and I'm also a bit worn out from all the
running around we did in the park this afternoon."
Skinner glanced at Mulder and Scully. He knew they
both thought they were being discreet, but he'd picked
up on the nudging and winking going on between the two
them in the backseat. It was pretty obvious that they
had both slipped out of "agent" mode and were
regarding each other strictly as husband and wife at
the moment.
"I'm not particularly tired," Skinner said, "but I
think I'll probably go on up to my room and get some
reading done."
"If you're sure there's nothing else we need to
discuss about the case, sir," Scully said. He wasn't
sure *what* mode she was operating in now. .
.somewhere between efficient-yet-horny agent and
tipsy-but-still-trying-to-be-polite hostess, he
assumed.
"I can't think of anything. Good night."
""Night, Skinner," Mulder said.
As soon as Skinner had disappeared up the stairs,
Scully turned to Mulder and said, "Ready for bed,
G-man?" She assumed she already knew the answer, but
her husband surprised her.
"We'll get to bed eventually. I want to make out on
the couch for a while first."
"The couch? Why?"
"Because this whole situation -- riding home in the
back of the car, having your 'parents' upstairs --
reminds me of being a teenager and that's what teens
do; they make out on the couch."
"Mulder, teens make out on the couch because their
parents won't let them go into a bedroom and close the
door! We're married grown-ups. We've got a bed."
"So, no couch?" Mulder asked giving her his best puppy
dog look.
Scully bit her lip in vexation. Mulder had now tossed
the ball squarely into her court. He did the same
thing to her in their marriage that he'd done to her
during the years they'd worked on the X-Files
together: forced her to think outside the box, to
consider possibilities other than the usual. But, just
as he'd never insisted she accept his theories
regarding aliens, mutants and psychics, he never
forced her to go along with his sexual suggestions.
However, she'd learned that she was usually happier
when she did so.
"For a little while," she agreed. "But we move into
the bedroom before things get too far along."
Mulder grinned, pulled her down onto the couch beside
him, and curved an arm around her shoulders. Then,
surprising her for the second time in as many minutes,
he flipped on the TV.
"Fox, what are you doing? I thought you wanted to fool
around, not watch TV!"
"Horny little thing, aren't you?" he asked with a
grin. "We'll get to the make out session soon enough.
I'm just setting the stage. TV on, with the volume
turned up just loud enough to make your 'parents'
think we're watching a show, and to cover up any
noises we might make; it will also provide a little
bit of illumination. Otherwise, lights off." he
reached up and clicked off the lamp.
"Who's going to be making noise?"
"You are, Scully."
She nearly moaned right then. Mulder did have the
capacity to cause her to make the most amazing sounds.
Moving into his lap, she settled down comfortably,
then stretched up to kiss him. After a long minute,
she moved her mouth to his ear and whispered, "You're
damned right I'm horny, Mulder. What are you going to
do about it?"
"Tease you 'til your almost out of your mind, then
carry you into the bedroom and make love to you so
good that your climax rocks the Richter scale."
Before Scully could reply, he latched onto the side
her neck with his mouth. She squirmed in his lap and
gave a little gasp of delight. He let one of his hands
drift across her breasts in a feather light caress.
Scully went to his shirt and began to unbutton it.
Then she slid her fingers inside and caressed the
warm, hair-sprinkled vee of skin that was bared to her
touch.
Mulder maneuvered them so that they were lying on the
couch. He was half above and half beside her. They
kissed some more, long and lingeringly, while their
hands glided over each other's backs and bottoms.
Scully rubbed her breasts restlessly against Mulder's
chest, but as they were both still fully clothed it
didn't provide the relief she was seeking.
***
Skinner was bored and thirsty. He wasn't really tired,
he'd simply offered to go up to his room so that
Mulder and Scully would have an acceptable excuse to
retire to their bedroom. He figured they were asleep
-- well, in bed, anyway -- by this point, so he'd go
down and get himself something to drink, then maybe
watch a little TV. He'd stripped down before getting
into bed; now he pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms,
but remained bare-chested. There was always the off
chance that someone would get up to go to the bathroom
or something, and he didn't want to be caught
wandering around naked.
As Skinner reached the last step and walked into the
living room, he noticed the TV was on. Maybe too many
years behind a desk at headquarters -- or too many
years without a wife of his own -- had wreaked havoc
on his investigative skills or his ability to decode
the subtle signals between spouses. Maybe Mulder and
Scully hadn't been anxious to get physical with each
other, after all.
Just at that moment, two heads popped up over the back
of the couch; one dark, the other bright red. He heard
Mulder's husky, slightly drunken laugh and Scully's
tipsy giggle. Good Lord, he'd never have pictured
Scully as a giggler! He was so startled that he he
barked out the first thing that came into his mind,
"Don't you two *ever* get enough of each other?"
Mulder and Scully turned to look at him over the back
of the couch. Scully flushed an even brighter red than
she had before but Mulder looked, if anything, proud
of himself.
"We thought you were in bed," Scully said.
"That's where I assumed you two were," Skinner replied
gruffly.
"We're headed in that direction," Mulder said. He
stood up and pulled a wobbly Scully against him with
an arm wrapped tight around her shoulders and walked
the few steps down the hallway toward the master
bedroom.
"Goodnight, Dad," Scully said, then dissolved into
giggles again as Mulder shut their bedroom door.
***
Mulder turned to Scully and scooped her up in his arms
to carry her to the bed. It was only about three feet
away, but the gesture was important to him. As soon as
his knees hit the bed, he dropped her and flopped down
on top of her. They kissed some more and Scully tried
to get his shirt the rest of the way off. But
something -- alcohol or lust, she wasn't sure which --
was dulling her normally sharp fine motor skills.
Finally, she muttered, "Oh, fuck it!" and yanked the
shirt off. Buttons popped loose and made soft plopping
noises as they fell on the thickly carpeted floor.
"Fuck *it*, Scully? I was under the impression you
wanted to fuck me."
"Mmm!," Scully said with a nod. "Want you. Inside me.
Now!"
Mulder chuckled and kissed her. He vaguely remembered
wondering once, years and years ago, if a bit of the
"sizzle" would go out of their relationship once she
was no longer forbidden fruit. It hadn't happened yet.
They were going on four years of marriage, all but the
first ten months of which had been openly acknowledged
at the bureau. Familiarity had only deepened, not
lessened, the intensity of their desire for each
other.
He stood up and stripped his remaining clothing off.
Then he quickly removed her clothing as well. He'd
noticed that Scully, who was such a neatness freak
about many things, never EVER complained about waking
up to find their bedroom strewn with clothing.
Scooping back the covers with one hand, he lifted her
with the other and scooted them so they were under the
sheets.
Mulder ran one finger in a zigzag pattern down her
chest and belly, flicking lightly over each of her
nipples as he went by. Then he slid his finger into
her. She was definitely ready; hot, creamy and open.
Without think much about it, he lifted her legs up
over his shoulders and crossed her ankles behind his
neck. The position lifted her ass from the bed while,
at the same time, drawing their faces closer together.
Balancing his weight on one hand, he used the other to
guide himself into her.
Scully gave a loud moan as he entered her. Unsure if
it was totally from pleasure, he murmured, "Is this
position uncomfortable, sweetheart? Would it be better
if your legs were down lower?"
"This. is. fine," Scully groaned out. Her legs were
spread wider than they usually were and maybe it was
the position but he felt even larger than normal. It
was intense, but erotic. She wasn't sure if she'd be
able to stay like this for a long period, but she
sensed they were both pretty close, anyway.
"Open your mouth and close your eyes, Dana."
"Fox, I think I already have my 'big surprise'. And
it's not in my mouth. Not tonight, anyway."
"C'mon, just do it. Trust me."
"I trust *only* you, Mulder," she murmured,
paraphrasing the words he'd spoken to her years ago.
Then she did as her husband had requested and let her
eyelashes flutter gently down to her cheeks while
parting her lips.
Mulder begin fucking her and kissing her at the same
time. Each time he thrust into her, his tongue darted
inside her mouth. Scully was convinced she'd died and
gone to heaven. Every time she thought they'd
experienced every possible variation of loving sex, he
came up with something new.
He was speeding up, licking at her more, now, rather
than stopping and starting separate kisses. Scully
didn't often climax in the missionary position, but
she was about to this time. When Mulder used the hand
that wasn't supporting his weight above her to capture
both her breasts and squeeze them, then ran his thumb
over her nipples it was the last straw. She
reflexively tightened her legs around his neck and
drew him more fully into both her mouth and her lower
body as she started to pulsate relentlessly around
him.
Mulder gave a groan and came at the same time she did.
When the world had stopped spinning, he gave her one
last, lingering kiss, pulled out and lowered her legs.
Spooning her beside him, he whispered, "Good night,
Dana. I love you."
"I love you, too, Fox," she replied before slipping
off into a contented sleep.
***
The next morning, while Dana was getting breakfast for
Melissa and putting on coffee, and just after Mulder
had come in from his run, Skinner came downstairs.
"About last night," all three of them began
simultaneously.
"Let me go first, agents," Skinner said briskly. "This
is, even if it's only temporarily, your home. What the
two of you do together on your own couch on your own
time is not any of my business. I'm sorry if I
embarrassed either of you. Please accept my apology."
"Apology accepted," Mulder said. Scully nodded her
agreement.
This was Maggie and Skinner's last day in Colorado;
Dana and Melissa took them to the airport around noon.
Melissa cried herself to sleep on the way home, which
Dana figured was just as well, since it was around the
time she usually took her nap, anyway. Scully herself
had mixed feelings; she'd enjoyed the visit, but it
would be nice to have their home -- even if it was, as
Skinner had said, only their temporary home -- to
themselves again.
***
Mulder and Scully spent the next week going about
their business as usual in Colorado. Dana discovered a
local branch library with a special story hour for
toddlers one morning a week. Their pregnant neighbor
gave birth. Life went on.
Exactly a week after Skinner and Maggie had left.
Mulder's cell phone beeped in the middle of the night.
"Mulder," he answered immediately.
"We've got him," Skinner's gruff voice said. "The
agents who were shadowing me caught him red-handed as
he shot me in the chest while I was returning home
late last night.. Luckily, the bulletproof vest I was
wearing under my shirt saved my life; I've got a bitch
of a bruise, but otherwise I'm fine The two of you can
pack up and head on home as soon as the Air Force
Academy is done picking your brain. In fact, if you're
not urgently needed there within the next day or two,
Mulder, I'd like you to fly back to Washington and do
an initial interview with our perp."
"You said him. So I'm taking it that Kellie Dupree
wasn't the shooter?"
"Kellie Dupree has been under surveillance since the
day we met her and has had her background thoroughly
investigated. Apparently she's simply a friendly young
woman who reads a lot of mysteries and found the idea
of meeting a real, live FBI agent fascinating. But I
did recognize the shooter."
"Who was it?" Mulder asked.
"Remember the waiter in the steakhouse? The one who
insisted on checking my credentials when he noticed
that I was armed? It was him."
"Shit," Mulder said.
***

A few days later, Scully and Melissa met Mulder at the
airport as he returned to Colorado. "I'm not sure what
I'm supposed to say," Scully murmured when Mulder let
her up for air after greeting her with a passionate
kiss. "It seems silly to say 'Welcome home', when you
were the one who was *at* home last night while
Melissa and I stayed here."
"Welcome home would be correct, Dana. 'Home' isn't the
house we own in Maryland. It's wherever you and
Melissa are."
"Daddy home!" Melissa said.
"Yes, Melissa, Daddy's home," Mulder said. He held
Melissa tightly in one arm and wrapped the other one
securely around Scully shoulders. "We should be able
to wrap everything up here by the end of this week,
leave to start driving home on Saturday. But we're not
expected back at Quantico and Headquarters,
respectively, 'til the following Monday so we can
either take our time driving home -- maybe make a
little side trip or something -- or zip on home within
three days and spent the rest of the week just vegging
out there. The choice is yours, Dana."
"Can I think about it?"
"Sure. You don't even have to decide 'til we're on the
road, if you want to wait. Just whatever mood strikes
you."
Once they'd arrived home and Melissa was occupied with
playing with Elvis in their fenced backyard, with her
parents watching her through the sliding glass door of
the den, Scully slipped temporarily out of "Mommy
mode' and into 'Agent mode'.
"So, why was the waiter killing grandfather cops? He
seemed so nice -- so sweet to Melissa, especially --
the night we were having dinner there. It's hard to
believe that was all an act."
Mulder shook his head. "It wasn't an act, Scully. He
truly *was* concerned about Melissa. That's why he
tried to kill Skinner. I talked to him for quite a
while yesterday. He had a sister a couple of years
younger than he was. She'd always been kind of a
screwy, mixed-up kid and nobody ever knew why. Their
grandfather died a few years ago and she revealed,
after his death, that he'd been sexually abusing her
ever since she could remember; apparently it began
when she wasn't much older than Melissa is now. Told
her he'd shoot both her and her brother if she ever
told anyone. So she never did, at least not when the
grandfather was alive. Once she told her parents and
brother what had been going on, they got her some
help, but it was too little, too late; she committed
suicide about eight months ago."
"Oh God, Mulder! That's awful!"
"Yeah, it is. And it sank her brother into the deep
end. He somehow decided that *all* grandfathers in law
enforcement would sexually abuse their granddaughter
if they got the chance. He decided to kill them before
it could begin. He was smart. He realized that this
was a booming town, one in which a lot of young
families without roots in this area were moving to.
And his job as a waiter in an establishment that
served alcohol gave him the perfect excuse for
inquiring if any of the older men carrying firearms
whom he saw with young girls were in law enforcement;
even for asking to see their IDs' and making note of
their badge numbers. Then he'd find out as much as he
could about them, ask for a few days off work, use the
internet to find a cheap airfare to whatever city they
lived in and shoot them. He still doesn't really
understand why I wanted him in custody. He's honestly
convinced he saved our daughter from a fate worse than
death; or, rather, an experience that was so difficult
to deal with that death would seem a preferable
option. And you know what the really scary part is,
Scully?"
"The similarities to your own situation?" she
suggested.
"Got it in one. I mean, I can totally *relate* to the
idea of a man dedicating his whole life to avenging
something that happened to his little sister when they
were kids."
"You never killed anybody, Mulder."
"I've killed several people over the years in the line
of duty, Scully. You know that."
"Yes, but you never took it upon yourself to act as
judge, jury and executioner of a man who didn't even
know what hit him. You killed suspects only after
identifying yourself as an FBI agent and only in order
to save your own life or that of someone else. Not to
protect children from theoretical abuse they might
suffer at some time in the future."
"I know, but I still. . .I love you so much, Dana.
What I said all those years ago in the hallway still
holds true. You've saved me and made a whole person.
Without you, I'd probably on the opposite side of the
padded doors."
"I love you, too, Fox. Don't ever think that it's all
been one way. Not everything you said in that hallway
was true. Maybe you do owe me everything, but it's not
accurate to say I owe you nothing. You saved me, too.
Saved me from a life of loneliness and
purposelessness. You gave me a cause -- and a man --
worth believing in."
Mulder framed Scully's face with his hands and looked
deeply into her eyes. Then he kissed her; deeply, but
tenderly. It wasn't a passionate kiss so much as a
loving one. Scully smiled softly at him . . .then they
were interrupted by a sound of barking and banging on
the sliding door.
"Melissa and Elvis want in," Scully pointed out,
pivoting in his arms to open the door.
"Know what, Melissa?" Mulder asked as he scooped her
up.
"What?"
"You're cuter than a bee."

Author's e-mail addy: tapw63@hotmail.com