TITLE:       V IS FOR VICIOUS
AUTHOR:      DONNILEE
E-MAIL:      DONNILEE@SNET.NET
RATING:      NC-17
SPOILERS:    Little ones - Fire, FTF. 
SUMMARY:     In the middle of a murder investigation, our 
duo realizes life is too short and finally give in to 
temptation.
DISCLAIMER:  The characters of Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, 
Walter Skinner and the Gunmen belong to Chris Carter, Ten 
Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting.  They would all 
have more active sex lives if I owned them!

DICTIONARY WORD
WEBSTER'S NINTH NEW COLLEGIATE DICTIONARY 
vi-cious \ 'vish-es\ adj. [ME, fr. MR vicieus, fr. L 
vitiosus-full of faults, corrupt, fr. vitium vice] (14c) 1 
: having the nature of quality of vice or immorality : 
DEPRAVED 2 : DEFECTIVE, FAULTY; also : INVALID 3 : IMPURE, 
NOXIOUS 4 a : dangerously aggressive : SAVAGE <a^dog> b : 
marked by violence or ferocity : FIERCE <a^fight> 5 : 
MALICIOUS, SPITEFUL <^gossip> 6 : worsened by internal 
causes that reciprocally augment each other <a^ wage-price 
spiral> -- vi-cious-ly, adv. -- vi-cious-ness, n.

INTRODUCTION (PG-13)
WILSON'S RIDING STABLE
ROUTE 118
LITCHFIELD, CT
5:00 PM - March 5, Monday

We approached the scene at the farm.  Several uniforms from 
the local police were standing in a semi circle around the 
corpse, probably obliterating any trace evidence.  I 
pointed to the ground where there were large double wheel 
impressions in the ground.  Mulder nodded.

Mulder and I both flashed our badges.  "Special Agents Dana 
Scully and Fox Mulder," I announced.  "Who was first on the 
scene?"

A man in his fifties with graying hair and a few extra 
pounds around the middle stepped forward and stuck out of 
hand, waving the other three away from the corpse.  "Agent 
Mulder, good of you to come so quickly.  This is weirder 
than shit."

Slightly miffed that he had shook Mulder's hand and was 
ignoring me as if I wasn't there and hadn't been the one to 
ask the question; I asked, "Weirder than shit?  Is that 
your official description, Officer? ..."

"Huh?  Oh sorry, Lieutenant Socks, State Troop L."  He had 
the red flush of high blood pressure across his cheeks and 
the tiny broken capillaries on his nose that usually 
signified a heavy drinker.

"As in stinky?" Mulder quipped.  The overweight officer 
belly laughed as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever 
heard.  

"Well, I don't know if 'weirder than shit' will go in my 
report, but ..." he responded finally.

"Why not?" I asked.  "It goes in his all the time," I 
deadpanned, pointing over my shoulder at Mulder as I knelt 
down next to the corpse.

"Hey, little lady, careful there, maybe your partner should 
take a look first."

I turned to give him my death glare.  I was pleasantly 
surprised when Mulder immediately rushed into the rift.  " 
Lieutenant Socks, was it?"

The man nodded.  "My partner is not only a Special Agent 
and an equal partner in the X-Files, she's a licensed M.D. 
and one of the finest forensic pathologists ever to come 
out of Quantico.  This part, corpses, is her area of 
expertise, so I would like to suggest that you give her 
some respect.  She can be awfully prickly when dismissed 
out of hand."

The man pursed his lips but said nothing.  Mulder pasted 
his most innocent look on his face, circled the corpse to 
the opposite side but declined to kneel down.  I snapped on 
some latex gloves and pulled the sheet off the torso.  I 
used a small stick nearby to carefully lift the blood 
soaked shirt away from the chest cavity.  A sucking chest 
wound was visible, or what would have been one earlier.  
Now it was turning black with dried blood.  I glanced at 
the Officer in time to see him grimace and turn away.

'No stomach? Huh, pal?'    I looked up at Mulder who was 
smirking away.  Loud enough to be sure the Officer heard 
him, who had taken a few steps back, Mulder asked, "What 
have we got, partner?"

I smiled a thank you at him and he nodded, almost 
imperceptibly.  "One shot to the heart, close range."

I hunched closer and peered down the lifted shirt.  

I shifted the shirt, not wanting to take it off, but wanted 
to look further down.  "It doesn't look like any other 
organs were damaged... wait a minute."  I paused, seeing a 
blackened mark on the waist band of his jeans which were 
unbuttoned and unzipped.

I lowered the shirt and carefully pulled the tails of the 
brown flannel shirt out of the way. I flipped the sheet 
completely off the body. The jeans were pulled down below 
the groin.  The flaps of the shirt had been covering it.  
"What is it Scully?" Mulder asked.

I looked up and inclined my head toward the crotch as I 
held up the tails of the shirt.  Mulder shouted, "Oh 
Christ!"  I heard the Officer behind me gag and stagger a 
few steps back.  Mulder swallowed and looked again, not 
thrilled, but knowing he should.  "God, Scully, that had to 
hurt."

I nodded unsympathetically, morbidly finding humor in this 
situation.  The man's penis was severed from his body.  His 
scrotum had been sliced open, and his testicles removed.  
"He would have bled out here too, that's for sure.  Hard to 
tell which wound was delivered first without tests.  I need 
to get this body to the morgue.  I'll do an autopsy first 
thing in the morning.  That's a surgical cut, Mulder."

Mulder motioned to the Lieutenant.  He warily approached.  
I grinned and pulled the sheet back into place, not wanting 
to appear totally unsympathetic to his sick stomach.   
Mulder spoke up, "Lieutenant, have the paramedics get over 
and load up the body.  Take it to the morgue.  Where's the 
closest one?"

"New Milford, I think, about 30 minutes up Route 202."

Mulder nodded.  "O.K., take it there then, put it on ice 
and tell them that no one is to touch it until Agent Scully 
arrives in the morning.  Did the other victim have his 
genitals ... defaced?"

"Uh, no, not that I know of.  I didn't see him, but that's 
not in the report.  Officer Sclapone investigated that 
one."

Mulder nodded, "O.K., get this man to the morgue.  And have 
forensics out here to take a cast of those tire tracks.  
Maybe we'll get lucky and they will be unique."

"You got it."  He trotted away, seemingly happy to have 
something to do.

I looked up at Mulder, putting a hand on the small of my 
back.  He extended a hand and I ripped off the latex before 
taking it.  I shivered slightly at the warmth of his hand 
as it engulfed mine as he tugged me to my feet.  He smiled 
and then knelt down, looking at the ground around the 
corpse, waiting for the paramedics.   "Look like anything 
you've seen before, Mulder?"

He shook his head.  "Not exactly.  I've seen organ's torn 
out or removed, but usually they were removed by animals or 
by hands, not with surgical precision.  Fortunately, I've 
never had the pleasure of investigating any missing 
genitalia cases.

"Today's your lucky day."

He grunted and stood as we made room for the paramedics.  A 
young Trooper, holding his hat in his hands, and obviously 
way out of his depth approached.  "Uh, agents, I was told 
to help you out if you was to need anything."

I grinned as he smiled at me shyly.  I looked at Mulder and 
found him glaring at the young man.  He was probably 25 
years old, blonde hair and blue eyes.  He was well built 
but rather short, probably only 5' 9".  I smiled 
at him and shook his hand.  Good heavens, he blushed!

I chuckled to myself, knowing he wouldn't appreciate it.  
"Agent Scully.  And this is my partner, Agent Mulder."

This officer stuck out his hand to Mulder as well.  "Hi, 
I'm Clancy Severn.  Can I do anything for you two?"

Mulder spoke up.  "I'd like to look in the barn."

He nodded and waved to us to follow.  We entered a well lit 
barn with 10 stalls lining each side, about every other one 
housing a horse.  I asked, "How much do you know about 
horses, Officer Severn?"

"Quite a bit actually, what would you like to know?"

"Well, the man out there was an employee here, right?  He 
wasn't the owner."

"That's right."

"Did you know him personally?"

"No, but there's a gal who works here, takes people out on 
trail rides.  Her name is Marguerite Wilson.  She isn't 
here right now but lives right in town.  I'll give you her 
address.  We already called to say we'd be stopping by to 
ask some questions."

"Good.  So she can give us some information on the victim."

"Headley Stores, yeah.  I guess she must have known him 
pretty good.  I mean they've worked together here for 
ages."

Mulder asked, "Who's the owner?"

"Lee Wilson."

"Ahh, so Marguerite is his wife?"

"Daughter."

"Oh."

We peered into each stall.  They were clean with shavings 
on the floor.  We entered the tack room and I was assaulted 
by the smell of leather and Neets Foot Oil.  Nothing seemed 
out of place or disturbed, but then again, I didn't know 
what a tack room generally looked like.

"Well, nothing looks out of place in here."

Mulder glanced around.  "Nope."

Officer Severn said, "We called Marguerite.  She said 
Headley usually closed up about 4:30 after getting the 
horses in and fed.  He would normally be leaving about now, 
a little after five.  He came in around 7:00 AM, but then 
left around 2:00 and returned around 4:00 to bring the 
horses in from the paddock and bed them down."

Mulder nodded.  "So we are working on a fairly short time 
frame here, say a half an hour between his arrival and his 
attack."

"Looks that way," the young officer shrugged.  "That mean 
anything to you?"

I spoke up.  "Well, it indicates that whoever assaulted Mr. 
Stores knew his schedule.  Probably staked the place out or 
is a known acquaintance that would know his schedule.  We 
are going to want a list of family members, known 
acquaintances, and the like."

"I'll get right on that.  Marguerite can probably help some 
with that."

"What about the missing horse?"

"We don't have a clue how that figures in.  It wasn't one 
of the regular trail horses that they own here though.  It 
was a brood mare, high class, apparently.  Some richies in 
Litchfield had bought her and asked Marguerite to board her 
until she foaled."

"Why bring her here?" I asked.

He smiled at me.  "Because of Headley, of course."

"What was so special about Headley?"

"He is ... was one of the finest vets in the area.  Second 
only to Lee Wilson, but Wilson is an old man now, doesn't 
see to many horsey patients.  Doesn't have the strength for 
delivering a foal anymore."

"So officer," Mulder asked, "do you think this was a 
straight murder, or did the expensive horse have something 
to do with it?"

The young officer looked at the ground.  "To be honest, I 
don't know, but my gut tells me a little of both."

Mulder nodded.

Officer Severn continued.  "These horse people can be 
weird.  And it's a real competitive business.  Not the 
riding stable, but the race horses."

"Race horses?" I asked.

"Yeah, the father of that foal was a race horse, a 
champion.  If they are healthy, those foals are worth a lot 
of money."

"How much money, ball park?" I asked.

He grinned.  "Million dollars."

"A million dollars!" I exclaimed. 

He nodded sagely.  "Yeah, and isn't money and greed a
universal motivator for murder?"

Mulder sighed.  "So you think someone was maybe trying to 
snatch the horse and Headley stumbled into it?"

"Maybe, but that doesn't make sense.  If they cased the 
place, why not come during the hours when they knew no one 
was usually here?"

"Good point," Mulder conceded.  The officer smiled at the 
little bit of praise.

"What about the first victim?" Mulder asked.

"At the morgue, waiting for you."

"No, I mean where was he found?" he asked.  We already knew 
that.  I guess Mulder was just asking to see if the Officer 
would give the same answer.  I wondered why.

"Oh, out in the woods on one of the bridal paths.  He was a 
runner.  Name of Olson Parks."  I shook my head to myself, 
not seeing any connection yet.

"Shot in the heart also?" I asked.

The officer nodded.  "That's what they tell me.  But his 
'little bits' were intact as far as I know."

Mulder laughed, "Little bits?  Wasn't very impressive, 
huh?"

The officer laughed then.  "Just a turn of phrase, Agent.  
I wasn't there."  

Mulder chuckled.  

I nodded.  "Let's go Mulder.  I don't think there's 
anything here."

"Me neither.  Oh, Officer Severn?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

"I know it's a long shot, but Andy Griffith out there 
didn't check for any foot prints in the dirt before the 
four of you ran circles around that body?"

He grinned sheepishly.  "I doubt it, but you could ask 
him."

Mulder sighed loudly.  "That's what I thought.  Have 
someone put up some crime-scene tape around the body area 
and then have everyone stay the hell away from it." 

"Yes, sir."  

We walked out of the barn and headed for the car.  "You 
were a little harsh, there, Mulder, don't you think?"

He looked down at me innocently.  "I don't know, Scully.  I 
just hate incompetence.  I mean, the basics of a crime 
scene, don't fuck with the trace evidence."

"I know, Mulder, but this is a small town.  How many 
murders do you suppose they get out here anyway?  They 
never have to deal with this stuff.  And Lieutenant Stinky 
Socks over there probably hasn't been in Evidence 101 in 20 
years."

Mulder threw his head back and laughed, graciously opening 
the car door for me and nodding his head for me to get in.  
I raised an eyebrow at his chivalry.  He merely smiled and 
said, "Get in, Scully.  Let's get some dinner.  You're 
going to have a long day tomorrow in the autopsy bay."

I nodded and slid into the car, curiously unruffled by his 
gentlemanly behavior.  Somehow, Mulder could pull off being 
a gentleman without being condescending.  Plus, he'd scored 
major points with me earlier by deferring to me in front of 
Lt. Socks.  I loved it when he did things like that.  Made 
me feel like an equal partner.  But it also let me know how 
much he respected me.

We rode in silence for several minutes.  We were only about 
ten minutes from our hotel.  Unbelievably, since there was 
little to choose from around here, we had been booked in 
the Litchfield Inn.  It was a very nice place with steep 
white pillars flanking the front entrance.  It boasted a 
large 
dining room, a bar, a ballroom for various large functions 
and very, very nice rooms.  They started at $150.00 per 
night.  The Bureau was going to have a cow when they got 
this expense report.  

PART 1 (R)
THE LITCHFIELD INN
ROUTE 202
LITCHFIELD, CT 
6:30 PM

I, however was in my glory.  I told Mulder I wanted a 
shower and change of clothes before dinner so we returned 
to our adjoining rooms.  I could taste the dust from the 
horse stable in my mouth.  I was sure my hair was 
covered in it and I wasn't entirely sure that we both 
didn't smell like horses.  Not a bad smell outside, but 
definitely less than fine inside a fine hotel.

I stepped out of the shower and pulled out some dark gray 
slacks and a loose white blouse to wear to dinner.  Simple 
but elegant.  I slipped into my black pumps and combed my 
hair.  I was deciding whether to blow dry it or not when I 
heard a knock on the adjoining door.  "Come in."

Mulder stepped into the room, having changed into dark 
charcoal slacks and a black silk shirt with two buttons 
undone and the shirt sleeves rolled up.  His hair was still 
damp from the shower and he had polished his wing 
tips, repairing them from their encounter with the barn 
yard.

The small lamp on the beside cast his face in shadow.  I 
gasped at  his appearance.  I was struck suddenly with how 
unbelievably attractive my partner was.  Not that I didn't 
know this already, but sometimes, it just ... struck me ... 
without warning.  This was one of those times.  When this 
happened, I was unable to ignore or deny my attraction.  I 
always tried to hide it.  I think I was successful most of 
the time.

He looked at me, his head tilted slightly to one side.  
"Almost ready to go?"

"Yeah!"  Shit, I sounded out of breath.  He smiled wide and 
I turned away to hide my blush.  "I was trying to decide 
whether or not to blow dry my hair."

"Leave it."

I turned to look at him, hearing the roughened tone of his 
voice.  It was soft, but rough.  He met my gaze and said, 
"It's beautiful when you let it wave up."

I sucked in my breath trying to think of an appropriate 
response.  I was supposed to say something here right?  
Mulder didn't give me compliments like this, ever.  What 
the 
hell was going on?

"Mulder?"

"The correct response is, 'Thank you, Mulder.'"

I chuckled in embarrassment.  "Thank you, Mulder."

He grinned.  "You're welcome.  I called downstairs to check 
on the tie requirement and they said it was unnecessary.  
But do you think I should wear one?"

"Depends, what did you bring along with you?"

He grinned.  "Well, there's the snoopy tie.  I also brought 
along a dark blue and white striped one, and then I think I 
threw in the one with little green men on it, or was it the 
one with the flying pigs?"

I laughed.  "Forget it, go sans the tie.  We want to relax 
anyway, right?"

"I do."

"Let's go then."  I ran my hands through my still damp 
hair, a little self conscious about it.

"Leave it, Scully, it looks fine, trust me."

I shook my head at him and followed him out the door.  His 
hand immediately went to the small of my back.  It was a 
familiar gesture that you would think I would be used to by 
now.  And most of the time I was.  But there were times, 
like now, when we were 'off-duty' so to speak and 
we were dressed down from our normal FBI G-man and G-woman 
attire that it felt so ... warm and intimate to have him 
touch me in any way.  I suppressed the shiver that wanted 
to creep down my spine as the warmth of his hand made its 
way through my thin, cotton blouse.

We waited a few seconds for the elevator and dropped the 
one floor to the street level.  He steered me to the dining 
room and stopped before the Hostess who had her nose buried 
in the reservation book.  She looked up and beamed at 
Mulder, fluttering her lashes slightly.  God, I hated these 
vapid women who drooled over my partner all the time.  It 
really got annoying sometimes.

"Oh, I'm sorry.  How can I help you, sir?" she purred.  
Mulder gave her his mega-watt smile. 

"Mulder, table for two, please."

She looked at her roster and ran her finger down the list, 
furrowing her pretty, little brow, tucking a died platinum 
lock of hair behind her Elven ears.  She looked up saying, 
"Oh, here you are, table 8."

Mulder glanced at me and I mimed sticking my finger down my 
throat.  He barked out a chuff of laughter and followed her 
across the dining room after gallantly holding out his arm.  
I placed my hand on it and followed him, quite enjoying the 
playful mood he seemed to be in.  Usually, the start of a 
case would drop him into his brooding, introspective mode 
as he dropped into his investigative role.  

"Why are you in such a good mood?" I whispered as we 
crossed the large dining room.

He smiled down at me.  "I'm not entitled?"

"No, I'm thrilled, I'm just wondering why?"

"I'm in a nice hotel with a nice restaurant about to have 
dinner with a beautiful woman.  What's not to be happy 
about?"

"Mulder!"  I was shocked again.  What was with all the 
compliments?  He was treating me like a ... woman ... like 
a ... date.  What the hell?

He grinned at my shocked expression and I realized he was 
probably just trying to get a rise out of me and I was 
feeding right into it.  I shook myself mentally and decided 
not to read into it and just enjoy the banter for once.  
We finally arrived on the far side of dining room and the 
hostess with the mostest indicated a table one row away 
from the wall.

I looked at her and asked, "Oh, I was hoping to be near the 
wall, perhaps in the corner over there?"

She furrowed her brow.  Mulder gave me an amused look as if 
to ask, 'what are you up to?'

"Umm," the hostess mumbled as she looked at her hand held 
roster.  "I guess so, I don't think that one is taken."  
She looked up and beamed again at Mulder, looking at him 
over my head.

I said, "Perfect, we want to be private.  Thanks so much."  
I spun on my heel and headed for the corner table, Mulder 
close on my heels.  The girl followed us and almost but not 
quite, dropped the menus on the table.  

A curt, "There you go."  And she spun and headed back to 
her post.  Mulder was grinning from ear to ear.

"What was that all about, Scully?"

"What was what all about?" I asked innocently.  Two could 
play at this game.

"Oh, you are enjoying yourself now, aren't you?" he asked 
facetiously, a grin on his face.  "I get it.  But why were 
you bothered by her?"

Before I thought about it I blurted out, "Other than the 
fact that she's eyeing you like you were a chocolate sundae 
with a cherry on top?"

He laughed now and his eyes twinkled as he gazed at me.  
"Jealous, Scully?" he asked smoothly.

"No, of course not, I just get irritated with vapid, flirty 
women."

"Try it sometime, you might like it."

"What?  Being vapid?  Not my style."

"No flirting, having fun."

My smile faded.  "What do you mean by that?"

His smile faded too.  "Nothing, Scully, sorry.  I didn't 
mean that the way it sounded."

"What?  You think I don't know how to flirt?  You think I 
don't know how to have fun?  Or that I don't enjoy my 
femininity?"

"Scully!  Whoa!  Whoa!  Calm down.  What's the matter with 
you?  All I meant was you don't ever flirt with ME."

I deflated, realizing that I was totally overreacting.  
Why?  I sighed deeply.  "Forget it, Mulder.  I was trying 
to have fun and it took a wrong turn somewhere.  I didn't 
mean to ..."

"Didn't mean to, what?"

"I don't know."  I picked up a menu and buried my nose in 
it.  "Let's decide what to order before the waitress 
comes."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him looking at me 
curiously, a serious look on his face.  I had piqued his 
curiosity.  Outbursts like that were not common for me and 
he figured it indicated something deeper was wrong when it 
wasn't.  Or was it?

"Look at your menu, Mulder," I instructed without lifting 
my eyes from mine.

He sighed and picked it up, scanning it briefly and setting 
it down.  I looked up.  "You decided that fast?"

"Yup.  I already pretty much knew what I wanted unless 
something on the special list caught my eyes, but it 
didn't."

"What are you getting?"

"The Surf 'n Turf."

I scanned once more, deciding to go for broke.  "I'm going 
to have the lobster."

His eyebrows rose.  "Going for the gusto, eh, Scully?"  He 
was trying to revive our earlier light mood.  I decided the 
least I could do was make an equal effort.

"Mmm, I haven't had lobster in a long time.  I'm a sea 
girl, remember?  I love all kinds of shell fish.  All that 
warm, gooey butter, I can't wait!"

He chuckled but then froze as I licked my lips playfully.  
I stopped, realizing what I had done could have been taken 
as a flirt.  The corners of his mouth twitched but he 
didn't say anything for a moment.  Then he said, "I think 
I'm going to enjoy watching you eat it.  Do you use your 
hands?"

I just looked at him.  "Some, some nut cracker, some hands, 
depends on the piece of meat you are trying to handle."

He chuckled again.  "Oh, you are getting good at this, 
Scully."

"Getting good?"

He nodded a conciliatory nod.  "You ARE good."

"What, Mulder?  No witty come back?" I teased.

"Wait, partner, just you wait."

We ordered our food and Mulder ordered a bottle of white 
wine to go with it.  There was a piano player in the corner 
playing jazzy tunes at a reasonable level.  The atmosphere 
was relaxed and rather swank and I sighed, enjoying myself.  
When the food came, Mulder insisted on helping me tie my 
lobster bib.  This time when his fingers brushed the back 
of my neck there was no hiding the shiver.  He stopped 
after tying it.  Then his hands slid down my neck to brush 
both my shoulders before he righted himself in his chair 
from his bent over position.  I swear he did it on purpose.  
I decided to pretend I didn't notice the lingering touch.

We ate with gusto, Mulder laughing as I struggled 
periodically with a particularly tough piece of shell.  I 
broke one leg and squirted lobster juice across the table 
hitting him in the cheek.  He had squealed in mock 
indignation all the while swallowing his laughter.  I 
couldn't remember the last time we had just relaxed and had 
such fun. 

I don't even know how it happened but I looked up two hours 
later, dessert and coffee later, and realized I was flushed 
with good food and wine and had been flirting with my 
partner.  He was holding his wine glass by the stem, 
peering at me over the rim.  A lock of his chestnut hair 
fell across his forehead.  The ambient lighting made his 
eyes look very green.  He slowly licked his lips and took 
another sip of his wine.  Several couples were out on the 
tiny dance floor in the center of the dining room.  Mulder 
glanced at them and then back at me.

He grinned.  I opened my mouth to protest, knowing what he 
was going to ask.  "Wanna dance, Scully?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because, we're ..."

"Having a good time?"

"We're on a case!"

"Not right now, we aren't.  Not until 8:00 tomorrow 
morning."  

I couldn't tell him the real reason I didn't want to dance.  
I didn't want to be that close to him.  He was having a 
weird effect on me tonight and I felt unusually vulnerable.  
But my protests were weak.  He was my partner, for Christ's 
sake.  And we were having such a good time.  I didn't want 
to be the party pooper.  His comment about my never having 
fun and flirting had hurt more than I was willing to admit.  
I'd set out to prove him wrong.  I wanted him to see that I 
could be fun and 'play' with the best of them.

The unfortunate side effect of that was that I had to drop 
the professionalism that always guarded me against his 
charms.  He smiled sadly, taking my silence for a negative 
answer and said softly, "If you don't want to, that's O.K.  
I just thought it would be nice."

He looked down at the table.  "O.K., Mulder."

His head jerked up.  "What?"

I stood up.  "Let's dance."  I knew I was in dangerous 
territory here, but my reasons for saying 'No' seemed 
distant and confused.  He took my hand and I immediately 
started having second thoughts.  Warmth flooded up my arm 
as he stood and tugged me gently to step in front of him.  
One hand on my back again, he led me onto the floor.  A new 
song was just starting up, an instrumental I didn't 
recognize but with a slow easy beat. 

Mulder deftly slid an arm around my waist and caught up my 
hand in the other raising it up to his chest.  He began 
rock to the beat and soon he was swaying back and forth and 
around with me clasped tightly to his torso.  He was a good 
dancer and easy to follow and I found myself relaxing into 
his guided steps.  I was overcome by a feeling of slight 
giddiness and leaned my head back, smiling up at him.  
"What?" he asked softly.

"Nothing.  You're a good dancer."

He smiled a little wider.  "Surprised?  Yeah, this is 
nice."

"What?"

"Dancing with you."  He pulled me against him a little 
tighter and said, "Feels good."

What did he mean by that?  I was no longer smiling but 
unable to take my eyes off him.  He was staring deep into 
my eyes and I felt a tingle go through my body, a wave of 
heat.  It made me nervous but slightly excited at the same 
time.

"Mulder?"  I asked quietly.

"God, Scully, you are so beautiful," he murmured.  And his 
head dropped to the side as he buried his nose in my hair.  
I shuddered and tried to pull away.  This was not good.  
This was dangerous.  What the hell was happening here?

My attempts to back away only prompted him to hold me 
tighter, the hand holding mine against his chest moving to 
back of my neck.  His fingertips played with the stray 
hairs at the nape of my neck.  It was a warm tickle 
that caused another shiver.  "Mulder, please!"  I 
whispered, sounding desperate even to myself.  I twisted in 
his arms.  He lifted his head, loosening his hold, a 
shocked look on his face.

He took a deep breath, his eyes darting over my shoulder 
and back to my face.  "I'm sorry, Scully."

Just then the song ended and he dropped his arms abruptly 
and turned away from me.  He looked over his shoulder 
waving toward the table.  "Sorry," he muttered again and 
walked away.  I had to hurry to catch up as he strode to 
the table as though his ass were on fire.

"Mulder!" I said in a frantic voice, trying to keep my 
volume down and not attract attention.  He stopped and spun 
around just as I reached the table.

We both froze and stared at each other.  All the fun was 
gone now ... again.  We'd dipped our toes over an invisible 
line and it had made us both nervous.  "I'm sorry, Mulder, 
I didn't mean to panic."

He swallowed and waved at my chair.  He pulled it out and I 
sat as he scooted me back under the table and then sat in 
his chair.  He leaned his elbows on the table, lacing his 
fingers together.  He was staring at his hands.  I glanced 
down to see his legs bobbing nervously under the table.  
It was unlike Mulder to have a nervous mannerism like that.  
Something was going on.

"What happened out there, Mulder?"

"I don't know," he whispered, glancing at me and back at 
his hands.

"I think you do."

He sighed.  "Maybe, but you probably don't want to hear 
it."

We sat in silence for several moments.  Did I want to hear 
it?  I wasn't sure.  What I did know was that I didn't like 
this tension between us and it was partially if not all my 
fault.  I'd freaked out just because he said it felt good 
to dance with me and said I was beautiful.

And he'd touched my neck, playing with my hair.  That had 
felt better than it should have.  I didn't want to cop 
right now to how his words and actions had made me feel.  
Mulder thought I was beautiful.  Jesus, when did that 
happen?

How did that make me feel?  Nervous for sure.  Scared as 
hell, not that I'd ever tell him that.  And, shit.  If I 
was honest, it titillated me.  He licked his lips and kept 
looking at his hands.  His knuckles were white with the 
pressure of squeezing them together.

I laid my hands over his clenched, laced fingers.  He 
gasped but loosened his grip on himself.  "Mulder, what's 
wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Oh come on, you can't even look at me!  I'm sorry, Mulder.  
You just startled me.  You never say things like that to 
me, and I ... it took me by surprise and I didn't know how 
to react and I ..."

"Freaked out," he said softly.

"Yeah, a little, but I'm O.K. now.  I'm sorry.  It has 
nothing to do with you.  It's me."  Why was I comforting 
him?  He was the one that had made me feel uncomfortable.

"This time it had everything to do with me."

"What?"

"It's not you, Scully.  You're a beautiful, funny, sensual 
woman and if any other man had held you out there you 
wouldn't have freaked out.  But you did, because it  was 
... me."

He looked so sad and dejected.  I didn't know what to say.  
Beautiful, funny and ... sensual?  Good lord, why was he 
suddenly spewing these words at me?  They threw me 
completely off balance.  He never said things like this and 
now they were pouring out of his mouth all in the course of 
one evening.

He was probably right.  I hadn't been with anyone in a long 
time, but I knew how to be with a man. I knew how act on a 
date.  I knew how to enjoy dancing.  It was just that 
dancing could be so intimate and I wasn't used to being 
that close to Mulder, to touching him that way.  And let's 
face it.  Again, if I was honest, other men wouldn't have 
effected me that way.  He did.

"Mulder, look at me."

He did, tentatively.  "You're right.  I wouldn't have 
freaked out if it was someone else."

He face twisted into a grimace and the corners of his mouth 
turned down.  My God, was he trying not to cry?  "Mulder, 
you're taking this the wrong way."

He blinked rapidly, still frowning but didn't look away.  
"I wouldn't have reacted that way because ... because 
someone else wouldn't ... effect me the way you do."

He continued to stare at me, shaking his head slightly, 
indicating he didn't understand.  I squeezed his balled up 
fingers under mine and he flattened his hands onto the 
table.  "Mulder, it felt just as good to me to be held as 
it did to you to be holding."

His frown dissipated but he didn't say anything.  His mouth 
dropped open slightly and he licked his bottom lip again.  
I repeated, "Mulder, you don't usually ... say things like 
that.  And you've never touched me that way.  You touched 
my hair and the nape of my neck and it ... it felt ... it 
was ... intimate."

"I know, I ... don't know why I did.  I just ... I feel 
different tonight."

"Different?"

"I don't know what I'm talking about," he said in a self 
deprecating tone.

I chuckled.  "Let's pay the bill and get out of here.  
We'll go upstairs and talk some more, O.K.?  It's early."

He nodded and flagged the waitress.  He yanked a MasterCard 
out of his wallet and handed it to her.  We sat in silence 
until she returned.  He quickly signed the slip and we 
stood.  I stepped in front of him out of habit.  His hand 
touched my low-back but then pulled back.  I turned and 
looked at him.  He was hesitating.  Oh God, had I upset him 
that much by pulling away.  Probably.  I knew how sensitive 
he was.

I tried to smile gently, not sure if I'd pulled it off.  He 
gently laid his hand back on the small of my back.  He 
flashed me a nervous smile and started to lead me to the 
elevator.  We entered it and there were others in there so 
he dropped his hand.  My back felt cold in its absence and 
I straightened my spine.

The doors opened and we all piled off.  Mulder followed me 
to my door.  He quipped, "My place or yours," but it fell 
flat.

I smiled at the door, not daring to look at him and simply 
unlocked my door.  He followed me inside, turning to chain 
lock the door.  I sat on the bed and leaned back on my 
hands.  He looked around and then decided to sit on the 
lone chair that was near the tiny table in the corner.  
"Mulder," I said.  He looked up.

I patted the bed.  "Sit here."

He nodded, but looked unsure and came and sat gingerly on 
the edge of the bed.  He turned slightly, pulling his long 
leg up onto the bed with a bent knee and turning to face 
me.

We looked at each other in silence again and then he hung 
his head.  I didn't know what was going on.  I did but I 
didn't.  I had no idea what to say, so I decided I should 
ask him.

"Mulder, what's going on?"

He looked up at me.  "I'm not sure," he replied.

"Why are you nervous around me all of a sudden?"

He chuckled mirthlessly.  "You don't know?"

"No."

He sighed.  "I tried to pay you a compliment.  I was having 
fun.  I thought we were having fun, being friends.  I felt 
so close to you down there for a few moments and then ... 
you pulled away ... you freaked out, Scully.  Not badly, 
but enough and it ... hurt.  I'm not sure why."  He paused.

"That's not true, I know why.  So now I'm afraid to ... do 
anything to make you pull away more."

"Because it hurts you when I do."

"Yes."

"Why?"

He smiled then a sad smile.   "You really don't get it, do 
you?"

He was staring at me again.  I shook my head.  "Then 
there's nothing else for me to say."

He stood up and headed for the connecting door.  "Mulder!"  
He didn't stop.  I leaped up off the bed and nearly 
shouted. "Damn it, Mulder, don't you walk away from me!"

He stopped and turned around but said nothing.  I realized 
I was panting and took a deep breath, trying to calm down.  
I stomped my foot and realized how silly that must have 
looked, especially after I saw the flash of amusement cross 
his face.  "Please talk to me, Mulder," I said through 
clenched teeth.

I was mortified to find that I felt like crying and I 
didn't want him to leave.  And now he was the one pulling 
away and I realized ... it HURT!"  

Jesus!

He watched my face and must have seen something because he 
slowly approached me.  He took my hand and led me back 
around to the side of the bed and coaxed me to sit down.  
He sat as before, turned sideways, only closer this time.  
I whispered, swallowing the lump in my throat.  "Why do I 
feel like ... if I let you walk out of here, things will be 
awkward between us for days to come?"

"Because they probably would be," he answered, very calmly.

"Why?"

"Because all of a sudden I don't know how to act around 
you."

"Why?"

"Any other question in your repertoire, Scully?"

I smiled and turned to look at him.  "What really happened 
down there, Mulder?  Be honest with me.  And don't give me 
any bullshit about being too sensitive.  What you did 
was different, out of character."

He asked, "You sure you want to know?  You sure you want me 
to be honest about this?"

I nodded, rather jerkily but I managed.  "O.K.," he said 
slowly.  "Actually, it wasn't out of character at all for 
me.  It's exactly how I always act when I'm with a woman I 
care about.  How I usually act around you or force myself 
to act around you is distinctly out of character.  What 
happened down there was I was having such a good time and 
was so relaxed that I let my guard down.  I forgot that I'm 
not supposed to touch Dana Scully.  I forgot that I'm not 
supposed to see my partner as a beautiful, desirable woman.  
I forgot ... that I'm not supposed to ..."

"Not supposed to what, Mulder?"

He looked at me for a few seconds, his lip curling up.  
Then he bit his lower lip and looked down.  "What, Mulder?" 
I whispered again, encouraging him.  My heart was beating 
fast and I wasn't sure if I was hearing correctly.

He looked up at me again and locked his gaze with mine.  
His voice was raspy and gruff with desire and it made me 
shiver.  "I forgot I'm not supposed to want you."

My mouth dropped open on what I'm sure was one of my more 
shocked expressions.  Mulder wanted me?  WHAT?  How did we 
go from friends having a nice time to this? 

"Mu...Mulder?"

His hand raised slowly and slipped behind my neck.  He slid 
his body in close and I gasped, feeling panic start to take 
a hold of me.  He bent his head and his hot breath 
cascaded down my neck.  His words rumbled into my ear and 
set up a humming vibration in my body.  "Do  you ever 
feel it, Scully?  This thing between us.  That vibration 
that sometimes flows between us and makes my body hum.  
It's there.  I can feel it.  I feel it all the time, and I 
pretend ... I pretend I don't feel it because I'm not 
SUPPOSED to feel it.  But I do."

"Feel what?"

He paused.  "And on those rare occasions when I can hold 
you, I CAN'T PRETEND I DON'T FEEL IT."  His words were 
forceful but still quiet.

My eyelids drooped closed and my head fell to my shoulder, 
in an unconscious action to dislodge his hand from my neck.  
It didn't work.  His other hand came down to rest on my 
hip.  I felt his lips brush across the skin below my ear 
and over my jaw.

I should stop him!  Damn it, I should stop him.  What the 
hell is he doing?  What is he talking about?  I shouldn't 
be doing this.  He shouldn't be doing this!  "Fee...Feel 
what?" I asked again meekly.  His thumb swept my bottom lip 
and I made an embarrassing squeaking noise in the back of 
my throat.

"This," he said sharply.

Oh my God - Fox Mulder is kissing me.  His lips warm and 
soft, swept over mine, brooking no argument as his tongue 
swept over my teeth pushing it's way gently inside.  I 
gasped and he plunged inside, rolling his tongue around 
mine and retreating to suck on my lips.  I heard a whimper 
and realized a second later that it was me.

What the hell?  He pulled me close and deepened the kiss.  
I moaned and felt my head spin as waves of pleasure rippled 
through my torso.  My hands came up instinctively and 
clutched his biceps for support.   I don't remember leaning 
down, I don't remember being pushed.  But the next thing I 
knew, I was flat on my back on the bed and Mulder was 
leaning over me, his hands in my hair and kissing me with a 
hunger and passion I had never imagined.

I gave up and started kissing him back.  There was no 
denying it now.

Minutes, hours, I have no idea.  Some time later, he 
finally broke the kiss when the need for air became 
paramount.  We were both panting.  He stared at me.  He 
asked, his voice gruff, "Did you feel it that time, 
Scully?"

This entire situation struck my hysterically funny all of a 
sudden.  I knew it was the panic and the acknowledgement 
and the confusion all mixed together.  But I began to 
laugh.  I belly laughed, feeling tension flow out of 
my body and the arousal abate somewhat.  He was smiling 
wide at me, and then began to laugh at the sight of me 
laughing.  Before we were through, we were both sucking 
wind and wiping tears from our face with the sleeves of our 
shirts.  

We finally quieted and he smiled softly at me.  He leaned 
in and gave me a quick, hard kiss on the lips.  And said, 
"That's what was happening."

He stood.  "Get some sleep, Scully.  I hope you won't hold 
it against me."

With that, he turned and went to his door.  He opened it 
and stepped through.  He turned around and fixed his eyes 
on my face again.  I was levering up on my elbows.  He 
said, "You're the most beautiful woman in the world to me, 
Scully, inside and out.  And you know what?  I'm tired of 
all the bullshit.  I'm tired of pretending.  So I'm not 
going to anymore."  He paused.  "That was my serve, Scully.  
You're turn to lob."  

He flashed another smile, that one looking quite self 
satisfied and he closed the door softly behind him.  I 
flopped back down on the bed and groaned.  What the hell 
just happened?  My body was buzzing with arousal and I was 
still breathing deeply.  My mouth was suddenly dry as a 
bone.  I heaved myself up and headed for the bathroom to 
get a drink of water.  Maybe a cold shower too.  

Fox Mulder had just kissed me like I'd never been kissed, 
and made me feel sensations I'd never felt.  Oh God, get a 
grip.  What now?


PART 2 (PG-13)
MARGUERITE WILSON'S HOUSE
MAPLE STREET
LITCHFIELD, CT
8:20 AM - MARCH 6, TUESDAY

How I'd managed to summon up the restraint to pull away 
from her, I will never know. I could have kept going. I 
know that. She wouldn't have stopped me. She had given in 
to the "thing" between us at last. She'd returned my kiss 
and it had felt like heaven.

But what of tomorrow? I could hear all the justifications 
flying out of her mouth. I had too much to drink with 
dinner. We have to go back to the way things were or it 
will ruin our working relationship. We were relaxed and had 
our guard down. I need time to think. I could hear them 
all. And being relatively paranoid, I was sure that 
somehow, if I were to stay, she would regret it tomorrow.

If we were ever to be together, she would have to come to 
me. She would have to approach me free of reservations, 
accepting of our fate, of her own free will ... hopefully 
sober. Because drunk or not, if she responded to me again, 
I didn't know if I would be able to push her away a second 
time.  Something in the back of my mind had told me it was 
time to declare myself. It was time to drop the mask. This 
might be the end of us, but if something didn't happen 
soon, it was going to be the end of us anyway, because I 
couldn't stand the tension anymore. I wanted her too much 
to hide it anymore. That was the bottom line.

I had seen something in her eyes when I turned to leave 
that first time. A desperation that I had never seen 
before. She was panicking over the fact that I was walking 
away. I was the one pulling away now, and I'd seen her 
recognize the hurt, and then identify with mine of earlier. 
I'd watched the realization paint a picture across her 
face. So when she asked me not to go, I couldn't continue 
to hurt her the way she had hurt me.

Two wrongs don't make a right. Even I know that. But now 
what? Here I am pacing my room, walking funny because I am 
so aroused I can't think straight. I need to lay down and 
do something about the third leg that has appeared on my 
body. Because it's obvious that after ten minutes of nearly 
painful pacing and thinking, I thought, 'This isn't going 
to go away.'

I'd already taken a shower, but maybe I should take another 
one. Lord knows had I started to sweat in there. Plus, I 
know Scully would be less likely to hear me if I jerked off 
in the shower than if I just laid down on my bed.

XXXXXXXXXX

Scully grabbed a ride to the morgue with Officer Severn 
early the next morning. I wasn't thrilled with the idea as 
I'd seen the way he looked at Scully the day before.  
Something was bothering me about him but I couldn't put my 
finger on it. And it had nothing to do with the way he eyed 
Scully.  At least I didn't think it did. But I needed to 
make my way to Marguerite Wilson's place and pin her with 
some tough questions.

Hopefully, our encounter last night would prevent Scully 
from doing anything stupid like accepting to go out on a 
date with that school boy. I drove our rental car down the 
two lane state road, thinking that the country side here 
was really nice. I was back in full G-man regalia, wearing 
a dark gray suit, blue shirt and navy silk tie, black 
trench coat and Ray bans. Figured I may as well look the 
part. Sometimes in these small towns, they were 
underexposed enough to be impressed with that shit. Then 
again, you didn't want to come off arrogant.

I was a hypocrite too, because I was not above flirting 
with a female witness to get what I wanted. But I certainly 
didn't do it when Scully was with me, so maybe this would 
be best after all. She would be in the autopsy bay for two 
hours at least on each autopsy. I didn't expect to catch up 
to her until 1:00 or 2:00 this afternoon. 

I glanced at the sign and made the turn onto Maple Street, 
squinting to see the numbers on the mailboxes. I really 
needed new glasses. Then I realized I had my sun glasses on 
and not my 'scripts. I pulled off the suns and fumbled with 
the eye glasses in my pocket. Definitely not as cool, but 
much more handy. I could see now! Fancy that!

I saw the bright green 436 painted on the black mailbox and 
swung easily into the wide driveway. I guessed I was only 
about a mile from the riding stable. She lived conveniently 
close, but then again, she would. I wondered if she lived 
with daddy, a/k/a owner, or if he squatted elsewhere. We 
had yet to meet up with him either. He, Mr. Lee Wilson, was 
on the top of my 'most want to meet' list right then.

The jarring sensation of my partner going soft in my arms 
and vibrating under my kiss last night kept whirling 
through my head. My crotch was standing at attention again. 
I shook my head. I had to get my head back where it 
belonged. It wouldn't do to walk in here sporting wood. I 
took a few deep breaths, thought about the dead body I'd 
seen yesterday and that pretty much took care of any 
remaining upstanding problems below my belt. 

I slid out of the car and stretched, looking around the 
yard.
The lawn was neat and mowed, the leaves raked. A small 
cement stoop led up o the front door. There was a light 
over the door which was not burning now at 8:30 AM. I 
knocked sharply three times and waited. No one appeared for 
a few seconds but then I heard shuffling behind the door.

"Who's there?" A rough male voice sounded through the door. 

"Special Agent Fox Mulder with the FBI! I'm here to see 
Marguerite Wilson." 

The door cracked open and an elderly man peeked his head 
around the end of the door. I flashed my badge and he 
squinted for several long moments at it and then pulled the 
door back. He was in flannel pajamas with teddy bears on 
them and a long, ratty looking, red striped bathrobe that 
had seen better days. His feet were bare on the plain wood 
floor. He was going bald on the top, but the rest of his 
gray hair was probably normally combed straight back, but 
now was doing a willow tree impression around his liver 
spotted skull.

I smiled easily at him as I slipped past him through the 
door. "Mr. Lee Wilson, I presume?" I asked, sticking my 
hand out. 

"Yeah, that would be me," he replied. Then he bellowed, 
'MARGGGIIIEEE!" 

"Coming!" she shouted from somewhere down a hallway off to 
my left. 

A tall woman, probably 5' 9" rounded the corner wearing 
fawn colored riding breeches and tall leather riding boots 
with a gold buckle. Her white shirt appeared to be some 
sort of thick gauze with an open collar. It was unbuttoned 
enough so I could see the top of her generous cleavage. The 
breeches hugged her like a second skin. her legs were long 
and slender, but she had no hips to speak of. 

Her hair was long, thick and brown and bound into a perfect 
braid which she wore hanging over one shoulder and down her 
ribcage. Her skin was that ruddy brown that occurred from 
long hours in the sun.

Her eyes were a odd color, light brown, almost gold and 
blended with her tan face slightly to create a disconcerted 
look, as though she was never really looking directly AT 
anything. I stuck out my hand and introduced myself.

"Special Agent Fox Mulder. The locals told me that you 
would expect me?" She didn't look like she'd expected me 
and she didn't look like she was happy about my arrival. 
She looked me up and down, taking in my outfit and 
was obviously not impressed, not intimidated but not put 
off by it either.

"What can I do for you?" 

"Well, I'd like to ask you a few questions." 

"About what?" 

About what?!  She was kidding, right?  "Headley Stores, 
Olson Parks, and the riding stable in general. Can you 
spare me a few moments? I won't take much of your time."

She sighed deeply and said, "Sure, I don't have much of a 
choice now, do I?" 

I smiled what I hoped was an apologetic smile and shrugged, 
"No, not really. You could throw me out. But then I'd have 
to get a court order or a warrant for questioning, which 
would piss me off and then you'd get mad and then we'd 
still have to talk only you'd probably have to go down to 
the State Police barracks, ..."

"I get the point," she said, cutting me off neatly, but 
then her lips turned up into a smile. She motioned towards 
a doorway and I followed her into a brightly lit kitchen 
and sat on a stool she indicated at a breakfast bar. "I 
need to grab some breakfast while we talk if you don't 
mind."

"Go right ahead."   She began frying eggs and said, "So, 
what do you want to ask me?" 

"How long did Headley Stores work for the stable?" 

"About eight years." 

"You knew him well?"  She turned suddenly and glared at the 
old man who had appeared in the doorway. I hadn't even 
heard him approach. He slowly backed away and disappeared 
from my line of sight.

Interesting. I wondered who was in charge around here? She 
looked at me and said softly, "Maybe we should wait until I 
finish eating. Then we could take a walk outside. What do 
you say?"

I looked at her for a moment and she nodded her head 
towards the doorway. 'Ahh, so she didn't want the old man 
overhearing what she had to say. This was even more 
interesting. I nodded my understanding.

"Coffee?" she asked. 

"Please, I'd love some. Only had one cup this morning. 
That's not enough to even get me into 2nd gear." 

She chuckled and poured out coffee from a pot into a 
generous mug and plunked it on the counter, waving casually 
at the cream and sugar off to the side. They looked like 
remnants from a greasy spoon diner, but I indulged anyway.

She finished her breakfast while I asked her mundane 
questions about the area and what there was to see. Turns 
out there was a Fair going on one town over in a town 
called Harwington. I was hoping I would have time to take 
Scully. We'd never been to a Fair together.

She had visibly relaxed in the wake of our mundane talk. 
She seemed like a normal woman, other than the fact that 
she was probably about my age and not married. But then, 
neither were Scully or I. Just thinking the word 'married' 
in the same sentence with Scully gave me a little pang. Did 
I want that some day? Not the time to ponder it.

I followed her outside the house and we circled around to 
the back and headed for a large pasture. I looked over my 
shoulder to see the old man watching us out of the window. 
He was dressed now in a flannel shirt and dungarees. 

Curious, what was the old man so uptight about? 

"So," I began, after we were a distance from the house. 

"So," she replied, grabbing a tall stalk of grass and 
popping it in her mouth. Somehow it looked natural there. 
She was a handsome woman. The kind of woman that used to 
turn my head. I noticed now that we were out in the light 
that her brunette hair was streaked with lighter ash blonde 
strands, probably also from the sun. She was tall and big 
busted. I found it curious that she did absolutely nothing 
for me. She was looking at me like she liked what she saw. 

I shook myself mentally. Scully was the only woman who did 
anything for me anymore. The rest were just ... people. 
Scully was my touchstone, my center.

"I need to ask some hard questions." She nodded. 

"How well did you know Headley Stokes?" 

"Very well." 

"Nice person?" 

"I thought so." 

"You said that like you know of others with differing 
opinions." 

"My father." 

My ears perked up. "What about your father? Didn't like 
Headley much?" 

"Oh, he liked him just fine, up until about a six months 
ago." 

"What happened six months ago?" 

"I started ... dating him for lack of a better term. It was 
weird. We'd been working side by side at this stable for 
close to eight years. We were friends, the closest. Then, 
something happened. One day, I just started looking at him 
differently. I can't explain it."

"I think I understand." 

It must have been something in the tone of my voice, 
because she swung her head around to look at my face. "You 
have a lady friend?"

I nodded, "Not in the traditional sense, but yes." 

She chuckled. "Define 'non-traditional' sense." 

I didn't know how much to tell her. "I'm supposed to be the 
one asking the questions." 

She smiled again, giving me a look that let me know that 
she was fully aware of my evasive tactic. She nodded, 
accepting it.

"So, your father didn't like that Headley put the make on 
you." 

"Put the make on me? I haven't heard that expression in 
years!" I smiled. 

She continued, "No, he didn't. You see, my mom died when I 
was seven years old. Dad opened this stable when I was 
about eight. I've been riding since then, giving lessons, 
trail rides. It has been just me and him all these years. 
I've dated, but never got serious with anyone."

"Never got serious in all this time?" She looked at me and 
was almost staggered by the look of sadness in her eyes. 
"Not until recently."

"What are you not telling me?" I asked gently. 

"Nothing.  I'm not sure it's really hit me yet that he's 
gone." 

I nodded.  "Did you know the other victim? Olson Parks?" 

"Yes, he was a customer. He came here quite often. He was a 
runner and we gave him permission to jog on the bridle 
paths. It was a quiet place for him and he didn't have to 
worry about running on the road with all the traffic and 
all."

"Did you date him?" 

Her head whipped around to look at me again and I saw a 
spark of something. Anger, maybe? Fear? I just wasn't sure. 
"Why?" she asked.

"I'm just gathering information, trying to establish a 
connection between the two victims. At this point, there 
doesn't seem to be one, except that the two men were killed 
one week apart, both at your riding stable. Little odd, 
don't you think?"

"Yeah." Her voice was far away and breathy. She was tearing 
up now. I didn't like it. I wasn't sure what the hell was 
going on here. "I have to tell you, I'm really shook by 
this whole thing. I'm scared. And I don't know what to 
think." She looked at the sky, then at the ground under her 
feet as we continued to walk slowly across the field.

She paused then sighed loudly. "I've never been a very 
'social' person. I'm a horse person." She said this as 
though it explained everything. "Truth be told, I like 
animals way better than people."

I chuckled. "I know the feeling. But then there are those 
very few people who ... are something special." 

She smiled sadly. "Exactly, and Headley was one of them. I 
went on only three dates with Olson, but there was just 
nothing there. By mutual agreement, we decided to be 
friends. Headley though ... was different. 

"We'd known each other a long time. We just sort of drifted 
into the intimacy part. It's the first really healthy 
relationship I've ever had.  I'd been in love with him for 
a long time, but was afraid to let it show, you know?  
Then he gave me a hint that he felt the same way.  I was 
so thrilled.  I thought I'd finally found someone I could 
spend my life with and now he's gone.  

"I'll tell you something, Agent Mulder.  I screwed up.  I 
let fear hold me back.  I wish I'd told Headley how I felt 
years ago.  I'd been in love with him for a couple of 
years.  Now I think of all the time we wasted.  God!  What 
a waste."

Her eyes became watery but the tears didn't fall.  She 
blinked rapidly and then said, "The others, they were not 
healthy."

"How were the others unhealthy?" 

She grimaced.  "I was lonely, needy, went to them for the 
wrong reasons."

"Those being?"

"They asked."

I chuckled.  "That's hard to believe.  You're a good 
looking woman, Marguerite, I don't see why you would have 
trouble getting dates."  Little compliments never hurt, I 
thought.

She beamed at me.  "Thanks, but my father scared most of 
them off."

"Why?"

"He's a miserable old man.  Don't get me wrong, I love him.  
He raised me all by himself and I never wanted for 
everything.  But ..."

"But?"

"He was always a little over protective, and frankly, I'm 
all he has.  I think he's afraid of being alone.  He's 
afraid if I found a man, that I would leave him."

"Wouldn't you?"

"No.  I would never leave him.  I might move out of the 
house, but I wouldn't move far away.  I couldn't.  My life 
in that stable anyway, and I get it all when he dies.  Its 
worth quite a bit of money now."

I nodded.  "Something's bothering me."

"What's that?"

"You dated both these men."

She stopped walking abruptly and turned to face me.  "I'm 
not a suspect, am I?"

"No, but it's the only connection other than the stable 
that I've seen so far."

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm wondering if whoever killed these men did it out of 
jealousy."

She threw back her head and laughed.  "No one's ever been 
jealous of me Agent Mulder."

"You'd be surprised.  Ever turn anybody down who asked you 
out?"

Her smile faded and she swallowed.  She opened her mouth as 
if to say something and then shut it.  "No."

I looked at her and knew she was lying, or hiding 
something.  "Marguerite, you're not a very good liar," I 
stated in a matter of fact tone.

"I'm telling the truth.  Other than Olson, and he's a 
victim, I've never turned anybody down."

"Anybody you know that liked you but never asked you out, 
maybe too shy?"

"Not that I know of."

"Do you know Officer Severn?"

"Yes, why?"

"How do you know him?"

"He comes and rides regularly on the trails.  Good rider, 
excellent actually."  

"He ever ask you out?" I asked.

She chortled.  "No."

"Did he know Headley?"

She scrunched her brow.  "Yeah, they were friends.  Talked 
horses all the time.  Why?"

"No reason, just verifying some things.  I need to know 
what everyone's relationship is to everyone else.  It helps 
to make connections.  Did he call to ask you about 
Headley's schedule at the stable?"

"No, he knows it by heart.  He wouldn't need to ask.  He's 
been coming to the stable for almost a year."

We stood in silence                                              
for a moment and she turned and we 
headed back toward the house.  "Your father is a vet, isn't 
he?"

"Yes, what's that got to do with it?"

"Headley had his ... uh, testicles ... cut out."

"And?"

"They weren't torn out or pulled out, they were CUT out, 
with something very sharp ... like a scalpel."

She stopped walking again.  "Are you insinuating that my 
father did this?"  The corners of her mouth twitched.

"No, but he would have those types of surgical tools, 
right?"  Could Wilson overpower a man the size of Headley 
Stores?  I couldn't see it.

"Yes."

"And are they in a place where someone could easily access 
them?"

Her mouth dropped open slightly.  "Yes, I guess they are.  
They are in his office in the house in a cabinet.  I don't 
think it's locked.  We never had any children in the house 
so it wasn't necessary to lock things up."

I nodded.  "I'm wondering if I could see them."

She nodded.  "Sure."

We returned to the house and went in through the back door 
into the kitchen.  I followed her out into a hallway and 
down another hall that led down the back of the house.  It 
ended in a door that she opened and I stepped in behind 
her.   The room was large with a couple of big windows.  
There was a metal examining table, much like an autopsy 
table in the middle of the room.  The walls were lined with 
cabinets, some with windows, some without.  She went to a 
cabinet that sat on the floor with double doors.  She 
opened it and waved me forward.  I stepped around the open 
door and looked inside.  There were four shelves, all 
neatly lined with scalpels, clamps, butterflies, sponges, 
gauze pads, rolls of sutures, and all the various 
accessories for surgery.  

I turned to her.  "Does anything look like it's been 
disturbed?"

"No."

"Did Headley have similar tools?"

"Yes."

"Here?"

"No, he kept his in the small examining room in the barn.  
He has a surgery bay at the stable that both he and my 
father used.  Neither one of them had a need for it too 
much anymore."

"I'd like to take these."

"Why?"

"I'd like to check them for fingerprints."  She scrunched 
her brow.  "Someone could have used them and put them 
back," I added.

She nodded.  "O.K., and reached for the first row of 
instruments."

"No."  I reached out and captured her wrist firmly.  She 
looked at me with a puzzled expression.

"Don't touch them.  I'll send someone over to bag them up, 
someone from forensics."

She nodded.  "In the meantime, don't touch anything in here 
and don't let your father touch anything."

"His prints may be on here.  Will that incriminate him?"

"No, I expect his to be on there.  I'm looking to see if 
anyone else's prints are on any of these sharp cutting 
instruments."

She nodded.  "O.K., I'll talk to my father."

We walked back into the kitchen and she offered me more 
coffee.  "No thanks."

"Is there anything else?  I really need to be getting to 
the stable."

"No, unless you want to tell me what you were hiding from 
me before?"

She stiffened from head to toe and shook her head curtly in 
the negative.  "I'm not hiding anything.  I'm being 
perfectly forthcoming and cooperative with you."

I held up my hands in surrender.  "O.K., O.K."  I pulled a 
card out of my wallet.  "If you think of anything that 
might help, no matter how small, call me or my partner, 
Agent Scully.  By the way, my partner is a woman and a 
doctor herself.  So if there's something you would rather 
discuss with a woman, feel free to call her."

She nodded, and her expression softened.  A strange haunted 
look came into her eyes.  "I'll let myself out.  Let your 
father know that we may want to talk to him later, but for 
now, I think you've answered all my questions."

"Agent Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"Your lady friend ... are you intimately involved?"

I hesitated.  "Why?"  There was only silence.  "Not yet," I 
answered.  I didn't really know why I answered.

"Don't be the fool that I was, Agent Mulder.  Life is too 
short.  Don't wait out of fear or insecurity.  I'm just 
realizing how short life can be.  I wish I'd been honest 
with Headley a lot sooner.  We might have had a lot more 
time together."

I nodded.  "I'll keep that in mind."

I walked back out to the car, contemplating Marguerite 
Wilson.  There was something ... off about her and I wasn't 
sure what.  Although if she truly wasn't a 'social' person 
and had little experience with men, then that could explain 
it.  But I didn't think so.  It was just a vibe that told 
me that she was scared of something that had nothing to do 
with these murders.  I wanted to know what that was.  But I 
wouldn't find out by frightening her myself, or pushing the 
issue.  Maybe I would send Scully back to talk to her.

I got in the car and headed to the stable.  I wanted to 
look around unhindered by the Mayberry crew and see if 
anything caught my eye.

PART 3 (PG-13)
LITCHFIELD COUNTY MORGUE
NEW MILFORD HOSPITAL
NEW MILFORD, CT
1:00 PM

I was exhausted.  My feet hurt and my back ached.   My eyes 
were dry and burning.  I finished scrubbing my hands and 
changed into blue jeans and a brown blouse shirt for my 
trip to the stable.  I pulled out my cell phone as I headed 
outside.

Officer Severn waved to me.  He was waiting as promised.  I 
slipped into the passenger seat and he slipped behind the 
driver's seat of his cruiser, firing up the engine.  The 
phone rang three times.

[Mulder.]

"Mulder, it's me."

[Oh, hey, Scully, what's up?  All done out there?]  

"Yes.  We have to wait for the toxicology report, 
otherwise, they're done."

[Find anything interesting?]

"Some things.  Look, I'll write up my report at the room 
later, but I wanted to go out to the stable again and look 
around, before we go talking to relatives and acquaintances 
of the victims."

[That's where I am.]

"At the stable?"

[Yeah, I met with Ms. Wilson this morning.  Something funny 
there, but I'll explain it when you get here if you are 
coming out.  What are you doing?  Taking a cab?]

I laughed.  "Cab?  Out here?  I don't even think they know 
what they are.  Officer Severn picked me up and he's giving 
me a ride out."

[Officer Severn again huh?]

Was that a note of disgust in his voice?  "Yeah, he's been 
real sweet."

[I'll bet.  Did he hit on you yet?  He will.]

"Mulder!"

[Forget it, Scully.]

I didn't want to say much with Officer Severn sitting in 
the car next to me.  "I know what you're thinking, Mulder 
and you're wrong."

[Am I?]

"Yes, where I'm concerned anyway, there is nothing to worry 
about."

[Sorry, Scully.  I have no right.]

"Yes you do."

[I do?]

"Yeah," I said gently.

I heard him hum.  [See you in a little while then?]

"You bet, twenty minutes or so."

[O.K., see you then.]

He ended the connection and I hung up.  Officer Severn 
glanced at me and asked, "You're partner upset with me?"

"Why would you say that?"

"He didn't seem to like me."

"Oh, it's not you.  He's a little strange, especially when 
he's in his investigative mode.  He's very good at what he 
does and he's a little impatient with people who aren't as 
smart as he is."

"And he's pretty smart, huh?"

"He's a genius."

Officer Severn snorted.  "That you're personal opinion?"  
He almost sounded sarcastic and I had a weird sense of 
foreboding all of a sudden.  I shook it off.

I grinned at him.  "Both my personal opinion and a proven 
fact.  He's a doctor of psychology, graduated from Oxford 
with honors, and he literally has a genius I.Q.  He's a top 
criminal profiler.  Considered one of the best."

"Oh, that is impressive."

"Not everyone thinks so."

"I do.   I have a brother who's got a thinker like that.  
Always made me feel inferior."

"Mulder isn't like that.  He tries very hard not to flaunt 
it.  But his mind can make leaps that the rest of us can't 
make."

"He doesn't make you feel inferior?  My brother used to 
talk down to me all the time.  Made me feel like an idiot.  
I hated that.  He was smart but he knew it too, you know?"

"No, Mulder doesn't do that.  If I feel inferior, I brought 
it on myself.  I know I'm intelligent."

"Obviously, you don't get to be a doctor and an FBI Agent 
by being dumb."

I chuckled.  "Thanks."

"I know it's even harder for a woman."

I smiled at him then.  He really was a nice kid.  "Thanks 
again.  My partner knows that too.  He also knows that I'm 
a little sensitive about being judged because of my gender.  
He respects me, and I appreciate that."

"I heard him put the Lieutenant in his place yesterday when 
you arrived."

I chuckled. "He can be very sweet that way."

"I like strong women myself.  I was laughing at your 
partner's comments, silently of course, I have to work for 
the Lieutenant so laughing out loud would be a serious 
CLM."

"CLM?"

"Career Limiting Move."

We laughed together then.  "That's good, I'll have to 
remember that one."

He grinned.  "So why do I get the feeling that if I asked 
you out to dinner, I wouldn't get a positive response."

My smile faded and I shook my head.  "No, I'm afraid you 
wouldn't."

"I thought so.  You're pretty taken with your partner, 
aren't you?"

I sighed.  "We're just friends."

"I don't believe you.  I was looking.  Men tend to notice 
the competition.  I saw the way he looked at you.  And the 
way he glared at me."

I grinned and laid my head back on the headrest.  "What are 
you talking about?"

"He noticed me too, didn't he?  Like I noticed him?"

I turned my head to look at him without raising it off the 
headrest.  "Yeah, I guess he did."

"He knew without even asking that I took one look at you 
and was ... attracted to you, taken with you.  So is he.  
If you're just friends, it's on you.  He wants you as more 
than a friend.  Trust me, guys know these things."

I blushed now.  Damn my lily white skin.  For God sakes, he 
was just a kid!  Then I remembered how much I hated it when 
I was 25 years old and was called a kid.  He was a man, 
regardless of his age in comparison to mine.  I had 12 
years on him.  But it felt good to have someone young and 
handsome find me attractive.  I would be lying if I said 
differently.  

"I'm flattered," I said quietly.

But I knew in my heart, that Mulder was the only man for 
me.  And now, he'd made it very clear that he wanted me 
too.  That thought churned up a new nest of butterflies in 
my stomach and I mentally shook myself.  Not the time to be 
thinking about that.

This guy didn't need to know how I felt about Mulder.  I 
was getting uncomfortable with the personal nature of this 
conversation.

"Agent Scully?"

"Yes?"

"Life's too short, I always say.  You have to grab 
happiness where you can.  Do whatever you have to in order 
to get it, regardless of the costs.  Any of us could be 
gone tomorrow."

I remained silent, not sure how to respond.

We pulled into the driveway of the stable and my eyes found 
Mulder immediately.  It was like the man had a magnet on 
his forehead.  I always knew whenever he was within 50 feet 
of me.  The Officer slid to a smooth stop and killed the 
engine.  We both exited the car and he whispered to me over 
the hood.  "Psst, Agent Scully.  He's a lucky guy."

I turned to look at him, shaking my head in a slightly 
exasperated fashion.  He graced me with a dazzling 
smile,  "Go get him!"

I threw back my head and laughed, shaking my head.  If it 
made it easier for him to blame it on Mulder, then so be 
it.  He was accepting his non-chances with grace and humor.  
Mulder strode toward us with a semi-scowl on his face and 
Officer Severn just smiled even wider, raising one eyebrow.  
I had to stifle my laughter at his using my patented 
eyebrow move.

Mulder reached me and stopped only when he was invading my 
space and towering over me.  "Hey, partner."

"Hey, Mulder.  Find anything?"

"Maybe, why don't we take a walk and you can tell me about 
the autopsies."

I turned to Severn.  "Thanks, Clancy."

Officer Severn waved and said, "Good bye, Agent Scully.  It 
was  a pleasure.  Call me if you need anything.  I'm only a 
phone call away."

Mulder scowled and I smiled.  "I will, thanks." 

He slipped back into the car and shut the door, the engine 
roaring to life.  We stepped back as he pulled a wide U-
turn and headed out of the driveway.  I turned to find 
Mulder staring down at me.  He wasn't frowning but he 
wasn't smiling either.  "Clancy now, is it?" he mumbled.  
"You're on a first name basis?"

"Oh, wipe that hurt look off your face right now."

He opened his mouth and then closed it again, his eyes 
darting out to the horizon and back to me.  "So, what'd you 
find?"  

He was changing the subject.  "Mulder."

"What?"  He sounded irritated. 

"Are you angry with me?"

"No."

"Then why the puss?"

"Puss?"

"Yeah, the sour puss?"

He sighed.  "Sorry, Scully.  I'm being a jerk and I know 
it.  Just let it go, O.K.?"

"No."

"No?"

"No, Mulder.  You're upset because I was laughing with the 
Officer, right?"

He swallowed and looked at the ground.  "I shouldn't be."

"No, you shouldn't be, is right."

"I'm sorry, Scully."

"Stop apologizing, it's starting to annoy me."

He clucked his tongue.  "What do you want me say?"

"Nothing."  

He looked at me and nodded.  "O.K."  He sounded curt.

"Mulder, do you want to know what I was laughing about?"

He shook his head.  "Not really."

I laughed then.  This was so ridiculous!  "Mulder, Officer 
Severn over there figured out that I was 'taken' with my 
partner.  Told me you were a lucky guy and when we exited 
the car he said, 'Go get him.'"

Mulder's eyes widened and a smile crept over his face.  
"Really?"

"Really.  No stop this jealousy nonsense and let's get to 
work."

"O.K., partner, you first."

"O.K.  Well, the testicles were surgically removed.  Good 
job too but not the cause the death.  The obvious bullet 
wound was the cause of death."

"Was he dead when he was cut open?"

"Probably not, although he was probably unconscious.  
There were indications that drugs were in the system.  
We'll have to wait for the toxicology screen before we know 
for sure.  The first victim had his 'little bits' in tact, 
as you know, Headley Stores did not, indicating that the 
killer had more animosity towards Headley than towards 
Olson."

Mulder scrunched his brow.  "What is it?"

"I spoke to Marguerite earlier.  She's a little strange, a 
loner, not much of a social butterfly.  She'd dated Olson 
about three times she said but there was nothing there and 
they mutually decided to be friends."

"Are you telling me that this is a connection."

"It might be.  She was seeing Headley Stores now.  Just 
recently.  They'd worked together for eight years, become 
friends and according to her, eased into the intimacy part 
of their relationship about six months ago.  She prefers 
animals to humans but said Headley was 'different', that he 
understood her and her life style."

"Hmm, interesting?  So she had romantic contact with both 
men."

"Yeah, but she didn't sleep with Olson."

"But she did with Headley."

"She didn't come right out and say that, but that was the 
impression I got.  And I also got the impression that she 
isn't very experienced with men despite her ..."

"Despite her?"  I raised an eyebrow.

"Despite her appearance."

"Which is?" I asked him, a slight tease in my voice.

"She's a ... good looking woman."

"How good looking?"  Now who was being jealous, Dana?

He smiled at me.  "Very good looking for a woman of 40, but 
not anywhere near as sexy as you."

I coughed and nearly choked on my own saliva.  "Mulder!"

He chuckled.  "Let's walk."  

We walked side by side, arms brushing as we circled the 
paddocks, casually eyeing the horses.  "She said her old 
man was very protective and always liked Headley until they 
became an item."

"Do you see him as a suspect?"

"Maybe, but I met him.  He's got to be 70 if he's a day.  
He's not feeble, but I don't see him taking down a man 6'2" 
and 200 lbs."

"Unless he was drugged," I suggested.

"Possible, I didn't think of that.  But, ... I don't think 
so."

A Chevy, John Deer green, pick up truck with dual wheels 
came bouncing up the drive and came to a stop in front of 
the main barn.  A woman in tight breaches and a gauze shirt 
swung out of the cab and headed around to the rear of the 
truck, dropping the tailgate.

I raised an eyebrow in question.  Mulder nodded.  "That's 
her."

I watched her silently for several moments as she threw two 
large bails of hay onto the ground and slammed the tailgate 
shut.  She proceeded to pick up one bail in each hand by 
the twine binding them and march into the barn.  "Christ, 
who is she, Amazon woman?"

Mulder laughed.  "She's in good shape."

I scowled.  He chuckled again, irritating me even more.  
"Not my type, Scully." 

"Doesn't matter."

He smiled and tilted my chin up with two fingers on my 
chin.  "I think it does matter, just like the attention 
that young handsome officer paid to you mattered to me.  
And it's O.K.  I'm flattered."

I pulled my chin away from him.  "She is your type, 
Mulder."

"How's that?"

"Tall, brunette, big boobs, long legs."

He laughed outright now.  "Given this some thought, 
Scully?"

I felt the heat creep up my neck.  "Not really, it's 
obvious."

"Wrong."

"Right!  Mulder, every woman you've ever been with was tall 
and brunette."

"Not by choice."

"What do you mean?"

"Coincidence."

"Yeah, right."

"Scully, nobody's turned my head but you in a long time."

I turned to meet his eyes then and they bored into me.  
"What's happening with us, Mulder?"

He smiled gently.  "Something wonderful, I hope.  Something 
I think should have happened a long time ago."

"Which is?"  I cursed the breathy quality of my voice.

"We're heading into the final frontier."

I chortled.  "Space?"

He laughed but then sobered.  "No, intimacy," he said with 
a perfectly straight face.

I swallowed hard.  "Mulder, we're supposed to be working."

"Oh yeah," he said casually.  

I chuckled.  "So what's wrong with Marguerite?" I asked, 
changing the subject.

"I'm not sure.  She acted funny around the old man.  Asked 
me to walk outside with her when she realized he was 
listening to our conversation.  And I felt like she was not 
telling me something at one point.  I sensed that she was 
scared."

"Interesting.  But two men have been murdered on her 
property.  That would scare me.  What about Mr. Wilson?"

"He has an office in the house.  I called and sent a 
forensics team over to confiscate all his surgical knives 
and such."

"What are you thinking?"

"That maybe we'll get lucky and find a print."

"Besides the old man's?"

"Yeah, worth a shot.  She said Headley kept a similar set 
here, so I told the forensic person to come here afterwards 
and get the tools from here also.  Maybe we'll get lucky."

"We're never that lucky."

He sighed.  "Did we get results on the tire tracks?"

"Yeah, I got a call from the lab while I was in the autopsy 
bay.  Tires are used on dual wheel pick up trucks, usually 
ones with a gooseneck trailer hitch."

Mulder pointed to the truck that Marguerite had arrived in.  
"Like that?"

"Just like that."

"Damn, I was hoping it would be something different."

"We should have forensics look at the truck for trace 
evidence anyway when they get here.  Couldn't hurt."

"No, couldn't hurt."

"Any theories yet, Mulder?"

"No, but I think we need to talk to the owners of that 
missing horse.  Find out if they had any enemies or people 
that were out to get them."


PART 4 (NC-17)
263 TORRINGTON ROAD
LITCHFIELD, CT
3:00 PM - MARCH 6, TUESDAY

Mr. And Mrs. Matthew and Isabella Martin were stuck up.  
That was obvious from the minute we walked in the door.  
They were defensive and snotty from the word 'go.'  They 
weren't uncooperative but seemed always to be looking down 
their noses at us.

They owned the brood mare, Lucky's Charm, who was about to 
foal an offspring from the stud, Crown Royale.  Said foal 
would be worth about $750,000, if it was healthy, which 
they had every reason to believe it would be.  They were in 
it for the money and infinitely more upset about the loss 
of the foal than the loss of Headley Stores.

They served tea and little sandwiches with the crusts cut 
off while we talked.  Having not had lunch, I wolfed down 
several while Mulder abstained and continued to ask 
questions.

He finally softened them up after asking if they'd ever 
been to Martha's Vineyard and began to regale them with 
stories of his childhood there.  Upon realizing that Mulder 
was an Oxford graduate and obviously came from money, their 
attitude had done a 180 and suddenly they were answering 
his questions with speed and detail.  They even put forth 
several theories and opinions on the people that worked at 
Wilson's Riding Stable, including Marguerite, whom they 
weren't especially fond of.

They respected her horsemanship but thought she was aloof 
and weird.  I found that ironic since aloof didn't begin to 
describe these two.  She was obviously of another 'class' 
of people and therefore didn't warrant much of their 
attention.  And although Headley was 'beneath them' as 
well, they were depending on him to deliver their foal 
safely.  They seemed more upset about the fact that he 
wouldn't be able to do that now than they were that he was 
dead.  What were they going to do now?

I wanted to say, 'Who gives a shit?  A man is dead.'  But I 
decided that wouldn't help right now and so let Mulder 
handle this one.  Even knowing he was playing a role I was 
a little repulsed by his fake attitude of superiority.  

We finally left and slid into the car about 5:00 PM.  I was 
good and ready to return to the hotel for a hot shower.  
"So, what do you think, Scully?" he asked.

"I think they're snots, Mulder."

He laughed.  "Indeed they are.  But besides that?"

"I don't know."

"Are you upset with me?"

"No, it was just weird to see you behaving like that.  You 
slipped into that role pretty easily."

He eyed me curiously.  "You do know I was acting, right?"

"Yes, it was still disconcerting."

"Why?"

"Reminded me of how different we are.  How different our 
upbringings were.  I forget you come from money."

He was silent for a few minutes.  "Sometimes I wish I 
didn't."

I looked over at him and the frown on his face.  "I know 
that wasn't really you in there, Mulder."

He sighed.  "Teena taught me well.  All I had to do is 
think of what my mother would say and the act came to me."

I reached over and squeezed his thigh, feeling sympathy for 
him well up in me.  I knew he didn't want my sympathy, so I 
didn't say anything.  His mother had been such an 
unfeeling, cold bitch.  Money or no, I had been loved and 
had a warm mother who gave out hugs and kisses liberally.  
Mulder had never known that.  I felt a wash of sadness as I 
realized that Mulder had never been really loved.  His 
parents hadn't really loved him the way a child should be 
loved.

Phoebe had mind-fucked him with her head games, and Diana 
had taken advantage of him and then left at the first 
opportunity that didn't jive with maintaining a 
relationship with him.  The man had never had anyone love 
him unconditionally.  It was amazing he was as 
compassionate and caring as he was.  It was no wonder he 
retreated into his mind and formed a hard candy shell over 
his psyche.  I had seen under the shell and knew there was 
a passionate, loving soul in there just screaming to get 
out.  But he'd never been able to trust anyone with his 
heart.  

I could hurt him very easily.  I realized that.  I was 
suddenly realizing that I could also bring him great joy.  
That thought was especially titillating.  Despite his 
reservations, his past hurts and his reason to be gun shy, 
he trusted me.  He was willing to take a chance with me.  
He was willing to risk his heart again, for me.

That was a humbling thought.  I don't know, given the same 
history, if I would be as brave.  My heart swelled in my 
chest as I realized how much courage it had taken for him 
to talk to me, to kiss me and then to walk away.

He'd put the ball in my court.  It was my move now and he 
would wait.  He would wait for me to come to him.  Was I 
ready?  Could I handle an intimate relationship with 
Mulder?  God, we were so entangled as it was.  Would there 
be no breathing room were I to let him inside my heart, my 
head?

Could I be everything that he needed me to be?  A romantic 
relationship with Mulder would be the challenge of a 
lifetime.  And I loved a challenge, God knows.  But 
challenges at work and challenges in my personal life were 
two different things.  

I sighed and closed my eyes, remembering the feel of his 
lips on mine.  They were soft, gentle, but firm enough to 
convey need and desire.  They weren't demanding, but they 
were seeking, asking.  I felt my chest flush hot, my 
nipples harden and a tingle invade the juncture between my 
thighs.

He was a good kisser.  Oh man!  Just thinking about it and 
I was aroused.  What would happen if I was to give in to 
these purely primal urges that were invading my mind on a 
daily basis now.  He'd given me a taste of something 
wonderful.  It had made me disoriented and dizzy, excited 
and scared.  How brave was I?

I must have made some sort of sound because his voice 
penetrated my contemplation of his kiss.  He sounded 
concerned.  "Scully, are you all right.  Do you feel sick?"

I opened my eyes.  "Huh?"

"Do you feel sick?  You moaned."

Oh God!  I'd obviously moaned in arousal and he thought I 
was sick!  "Uh, my back hurts a bit."

He said, "I'll rub it for you when we get back to the 
room."

"Mulder, I'm fine, I don't..."

"No buts, and you're not fine.  You performed two autopsies 
today.  I'll bet your feet are killing you too."

I sighed.  "Yeah, they are."

"I give a good foot massage."

"Do you now, Agent Mulder?" I teased.

He grinned.  "Just you wait, Agent Scully.  I have many 
hidden talents."

I felt myself flush warm again.  Oh god, what would it feel 
like to have his hands on me?  I suppressed  a shiver, 
knowing it would feel wonderful.

XXXXXXXXXX
LITCHFIELD INN
LITCHFIELD, CT 
5:30 PM - MARCH 6 - TUESDAY

We both showered and I slipped into some clean cotton 
underwear and threw my robe on.  I was searching through my 
suitcase for a tee shirt when I heard the knock on the 
connecting door.

"Come in."

Mulder entered and shut the door behind him.  He was 
wearing a faded blue tee shirt that hugged his chest and 
worn out black jeans.  He was in his stocking feet and his 
hair was still damp.

"Whatcha doin?" he asked.

"Looking for a shirt."

"Forget it.  Lay down."

"What do mean, forget it?"

"I mean forget it.  Just wear your robe, be comfy, lay 
down."

I watched him warily as he stepped up to the bed and sat 
down, cocking on hip on the edge and waving toward the bed.   
He laughed suddenly.  "God, Scully, you look like I'm Jack 
the Ripper!  Relax.  This is all for you.  Let me do 
something nice for you for a change."

This was Mulder.  He wouldn't do anything I didn't want him 
to do.  I knew that.  The problem was that I wanted him to 
do things that I probably shouldn't.  And although I wanted 
his touch, I was  a little fearful of it.  I knew it was 
going to affect me and I wasn't sure I would be able to 
hide it.  Although I was dying for a back rub, I found 
myself suddenly nervous.

I didn't have a voluptuous body.  I had decent sized 
breasts but they weren't the hooters I was used to seeing 
on the woman that turned his head.  I didn't have long legs 
and I was pale skinned.  I was suddenly very worried about 
what he would think of my body.  I needed to stop this!  
What did it matter?

But it did.  I tentatively made my way to the bed and 
crawled up and laid back nervously.  "Where do you want 
me?"

He smiled softly, almost a tease but then looked like he 
thought better of it.  "There's fine.  I'll start with the 
foot massage, how's that?"

I nodded.  He went on all fours and crawled to the foot of 
the bed and knelt there.  He raised one foot and placed it 
on his thigh.  His big warm hands wrapped around my foot 
from either side and squeezed.  I moaned, feeling the rush 
of blood that flooded my foot when he released his grip.  
He grinned.  "Wow, you were easy to please."

I made as if to kick him and he laughed.  His thumbs began 
long sure strokes over my heel and instep.  I bit my lip to 
keep the sounds in.  The room was silent but for my 
breathing.  He whispered, "You don't have to be silent, 
Scully."

I knew that, but somehow I didn't want to sound like I was 
enjoying it too much.  Why not? I let the moans come as he 
massaged each tendon on top of my foot and rubbed each toe.   
His hands were like magic and I could feel the tension 
draining out of me.  He startled me when he lifted my foot 
and placed a soft kiss on the ball below my toes and then 
lowered it to the bed.  I gasped and looked at him.  He 
seemed to ignore my reaction and picked up the other foot, 
repeating the slow procedure of massaging every tiny muscle 
in my foot.  This time, I let the sounds come.

By the time he was through I was moaning loudly and 
gasping, "Oh God, Mulder," as he continued his assault on 
my sore and tired foot."

Finally, he stopped, kissing this foot and placing it down 
on the bedspread.  I opened my eyes and realized my legs 
were spread on either side of his knees.  His eyes caught 
me and I froze.  He was breathing shallow and staring at my 
face.  I was suddenly very self conscious and tried to put 
my legs together.  He graciously tipped his legs to the 
side and let me close my legs.  Could he see my underwear 
before?  I was torn between being grateful I had them on 
and wishing I'd worn something sexier than white cotton 
Haynes Her Way.

He cleared his throat.  "Turn onto your stomach, Scully."  

I felt like a deer in headlights.  His eyes were nearly 
black, his lids hooded and lazy.  His voice was 
unmistakably deeper and gruffer than I'd ever heard it.  
Was he aroused?  I thought he was and a tiny thrill raced 
through me.  He ignored it and didn't mention it so neither 
did I.  I rolled over onto my stomach and then remembered 
that I didn't have a shirt on.

"Mulder, I don't have a ..."

My words broke off as I felt him straddle my rear end and 
his large hands come down on my neck.  I groaned as he 
began to work the cords of muscle down the sides of my 
neck.  I tipped my forehead into the pillow and 
concentrated on breathing.  Oh it felt so good.  He slowly 
moved down, pushing the collar of my robe ahead of his 
hands as he slowly worked the muscles of first one shoulder 
and then the other.  

I felt him shift down so that he was straddling my thighs.  
He hadn't put any weight on me.  He didn't hesitate and he 
didn't ask, he merely reached up, grasped the collar of my 
robe and slid it down over my biceps.  One hand followed 
and the other tugged the sleeve of my robe off my arm.  He 
repeated the process with the other arm.  Then he slid it 
down to bunch around my waist.  

I felt the cool air hit my back and I tensed.  I was now 
bare from the waist up and I took a deep breath.  I brought 
my arms down to my sides, making sure the side of my 
breasts were covered where they squished into the mattress.  
I cleared my throat.  Should I ask for a shirt?  How would 
he massage me with a shirt on?  He could rub through the 
shirt, couldn't he?

"Muld..."

His hands came down on my rib cage and I shivered as he 
gently drew them up my sides.  I squeaked in surprise and 
then moaned again as he began to make long strokes up first 
one side of my spine and then the other.  He concentrated 
on the area between my shoulder blades, working all my 
trigger points.  Then he slid backwards a little more on my 
legs.  I felt confined and made to move my legs a bit and 
gasped when my leg fell into the juncture of his thighs 
just as he leaned forward.

The jeans he was wearing were soft and well worn.  They 
weren't new, stiff denim.  I could clearly feel his 
erection pressing into the back of my calf muscle.  The 
heat of it was seeping right through his jeans.  At the 
second of contact, he moaned.  A low, loud, drawn out moan 
from the back of his throat and his hands froze on my lower 
back.  Oh shit, he was so excited.  He was so hard.  I 
didn't have to wonder now.  This was exciting him.  My 
breasts felt heavy and we both breathed heavily for a few 
seconds as if afraid to move.  Finally he croaked out, "I'm 
sorry, Scully. It doesn't mean I'm going to do anything 
about it."

My next question was stupid and obvious but my brain seemed 
to have gone on 'Pause.'  "This is arousing you?"  Was that 
my voice, low and ragged?

He chuckled low.  "How could it not, Scully?"

"It's just my back," I quipped, trying to sound light and 
failing miserably.

"I know.  It's YOUR back, YOUR creamy, silky smooth skin."

I didn't know what to say.  "I'm pale."  Oh brilliant, 
Dana, I thought.

"You're beautiful," he whispered.  Another few seconds went 
by and then he asked, "Do you want me to stop?"

I didn't even think and blurted out a little too quickly, 
"No!"

He chuckled and began to stroke my back again, this time 
concentrating on my low back.  He shifted his erection off 
my leg and I was grateful.   The warmth was invading my 
skin.  His hands were making my skin tingle where ever he 
touched.  I seemed to be super sensitive, like my skin was 
raw and electrified.  

I felt his hands slip under my stomach and I blurted, 
"Mulder, what are you doing?"

Instead of answering, he grasped the loosely tied strip of 
material holding my robe closed and pulled it apart.  
Without asking, he lifted up onto his knees and pulled it 
off. I came up on my elbows, gasping.  "Mulder!"

"Shhh, relax.  You know I won't do anything you don't want 
me to do."

I took a shaky breath and retreated into the mattress, my 
arms out at my sides, my hands by my head on the pillow, 
clenching the material.  To my embarrassment, I felt myself 
start to tremble.  I felt so exposed.  He leaned over me on 
all fours and I whimpered, feeling the heat of his body 
blanket my back.  He leaned down into my ear.  "Don't be 
frightened of me Scully," he whispered.

I shivered at the feel of his hot breath on the shell of my 
ears.  My ears were really sensitive.  He had no way of 
knowing that, though.  He spoke again.  "I would never hurt 
you.  And I would never take advantage of you.  I just want 
to make you feel good.  Can I keep doing that?"

He waited patiently while I tried to think.  But I 
couldn't, not with his body hovering over me like that.  
Finally, he sighed and sat back on his haunches.  He picked 
up the robe and tossed it next to my head.  "Put it back 
on, Scully."

He was upset.  I realized my non response was probably 
making him think I didn't want to continue.  If I stopped 
him, was I saying I didn't trust him not to put the moves 
on me?  Just a few minutes ago, I was afraid I wouldn't 
look good enough for him.  Which was it?  What the hell did 
I want?  I realized I needed to make a decision and I 
needed to make it fast.  

I remembered the officer's words, 'Life is too short, I 
always say.'  He was right about that.  Mulder could be 
dead tomorrow and I would have to live with the fact that I 
never told him how I felt.  I felt his weight shift on the 
bed and knew he was going to get off.  I sharp dart of 
panic went through me.  It wasn't what I wanted.

"No!" I said quickly.  He froze.  

"Scully, look, this is obviously making you uncomfortable.  
This is obviously too much for you.  I'll just go back to 
my room now."

"No!"  I felt his weight shift again and he laid on his 
side next to me, facing me.  He didn't look down at my now 
naked torso pressed into the mattress.  He took in my 
hunched posture as I tried to hide my breasts from him.  He 
smiled gently.

"What do you want, Scully?"

I met his eyes and they were so sad and full of longing I 
thought it might make me cry.  I blinked rapidly and took a 
deep breath.  I wanted him.  God, how I wanted him and the 
look on his face told me that he wanted me just as much, 
probably more.  He had been such a gentleman about this.  
He hadn't touched me inappropriately.  He really had been 
just trying to make me feel better and I was acting like a 
ninny.  It wasn't his fault that it turned him on.

If I was honest, I was thrilled that it had turned him on.  
What the hell was I afraid of?  I continued to hold his 
gaze as I raised up on my elbows.  He eyes flicked to my 
chest and back to my face.  I smiled, not daring to look 
down although I knew the view I was giving him.  He 
breathing was suddenly quickening. 

I slowly but deliberately lifted my arm and flipped over 
onto my back.  My nipples hardened instantly in the cool 
air and I watched him gasp, his eyes trekking between my 
breasts and my face.  "Scully?"  

Oh God, that voice.  "Are you going to massage the front 
too, Mulder?"

He smiled a nervous smile and scooted closer to me.  He 
raised up to sit on one hip.  His hand reached over and 
landed on my belly, searing me through with its heat.  I 
inhaled deeply feeling the warmth spread out in waves from 
his hand.  He moved slowly and swung his leg over to 
straddle my front.  I had been teasing but he did exactly 
what I asked.  He massaged my shoulders, and down each arm.   
He ran his thumbs between every rib.  I was panting lightly 
when he pulled the edges of my panties down just enough to 
see my hip bones.  His thumbs rubbed circles over them and 
I felt a hot gush of warmth in my crotch.

I moaned without warning.  "Oh God, Mulder."

He stopped and looked at me, blinking slowly.  "Scully, I 
have to stop ... touching you, or I'm not ... going to be 
able ... to stop ... touching you."

But his thumbs didn't stop their circular motion on my hip 
bones.  Darts of excitement were shooting into my womb.  
His voice was a ragged whisper, "Tell me to stop, Scully."  

His hands ran up around my waist and continued to climb.  I 
couldn't say a word.  I didn't want him to stop.  Screw it.  
I didn't want him to stop, ever.   I wanted him too much.  
His fingers traced the sides of my breasts and I gasped.  
Then they slid slowly over my flesh and gently tested the 
weight and he squeezed gently.  I moaned and reached up and 
captured the back of his neck in my palm.  

He looked into my eyes and I gently tugged him and he 
slowly lowered his head.  When he was an inch away I 
whispered, "Kiss me like you did last night."

He hummed in the back of his throat and slanted his lips 
over mine.  We kissed softly for a few seconds but it was 
soon not enough and his tongue asked entrance by stabbing 
at my teeth.  I let him in and his hands went to my hair, 
his elbows taking his weight as he deepened the kiss.  He 
was still kneeling, keeping all his weight off me, his legs 
straddling my thighs.  I wanted to feel him and reached up 
to run my hands along his sides.

I delighted in the shudder that went through him.  He broke 
the kiss panting.  "Scully, what do you want?  I'm ... I'm 
too excited.  I'm ..."

"Going to get undressed, I hope.  I'm starting to feel this 
is terribly unfair."

A grin that lit up the room spread over his face.  He shook 
his head slightly as if not sure he heard me right.  I 
giggled at his expression as his smile faded.  "If I take 
off my clothes ..."

"You won't be able to stop?"

He nodded.  I took a deep breath and took the plunge.  "I 
don't want to stop."

"Oh God, Scully?"

"I want to do it."

"Do it?"  He grinned.

My smile faded as the enormity of what I was doing 
overwhelmed me for a second.  No, I was not going to 
chicken out.  I was tired of depriving myself of this.  I 
was tired of depriving myself of him.  He loved me, I loved 
him.  Screw our enemies, screw the Bureau, I was tired of 
being frustrated and unhappy.

I smiled again.  "Make love to me, Mulder."

His eyes closed and reopened.  "Oh God, Scully."

"You said that already."  He grinned and leaped off the 
bed. I rolled onto my side, propping myself up on my elbow 
and he ripped his tee shirt over his head. 

"Slow," I said.

He nodded and reached for his waistband, slowly unbuttoning 
and unzipping the fly.  He slid them down slowly, pulling 
first one leg and then the other off.  He ripped of his 
socks and stood up in nothing but blue boxer briefs.  The 
bulge in front was impressive and I couldn't wait to see 
it.  I felt another wash of excitement seeing how aroused 
he was.

"All of it," I whispered.  

He glanced at my panties.  "What's good for the goose..."  
He let the sentence trickle away.  

I reached down and flopped onto my back, yanking my 
underwear down and tossing them over the side of the bed.  
I rolled back up onto my side and there he was.  He was 
standing very still, arms at his side, completely naked. 

He was fucking gorgeous.  His broad shoulders tapered down 
to a lean waist line.  His defined pecs and muscular 
abdomen stood out under a light dusting of chestnut hair 
that matched his head.  I spotted a few gray hairs on his 
breast bone.  I followed the line of hair down where it 
thickened slightly below his navel and emptied into an 
unruly mass of pubic hair framing his erection.  

It was standing tall and proud, bobbing slightly.  I nearly 
moaned at the sight of this evidence of his arousal, now 
uncovered.  He was pretty big, long and thick.  That was 
going to feel so good inside.  His thighs were large from 
running, but the muscles were elongated from swimming.  His 
skin was a golden brown, slightly whiter below the waist.  

I motioned with my hand and he approached and straddled me 
again as I rolled onto my back.  His hands landed in mine 
and he placed them at the sides of my head.  He dipped down 
and caught my lips, kissing me hungrily, but then he slowed 
and began to savor every moment.  I did the same.  Our 
hands explored each other's bodies.

I rolled him onto his stomach and explored his back, 
placing kisses down his spine.  I made him squeal when I 
squeezed his ass with both hands.  He hadn't been expecting 
that. 

I giggled and he chuckled at me.  I murmured, "God, your 
ass is gorgeous."  He laughed louder at this and raised 
said ass off the bed, bouncing me off him and grabbing me 
as I fell.  I squealed and we both laughed as he crawled 
between my legs, nudging them open with his knees.  He 
grabbed my hands again, lacing our fingers and pinning them 
to the bed.  I mock struggled.  In the process, I raised my 
hips and brushed the length of his erection.  We both 
groaned and he let his weight fall onto me, pinning my hips 
to the mattress with his own and gently grinding his 
pulsing shaft against my center.

Our smiles faded and we stared at each other.  "Last chance 
to run screaming," he said. 

I shook my head.  He smiled.  "Now?"

"Now," I whispered. 

He reached down with one hand and cupped my bottom.  I 
raised my legs and wrapped them around his hips.  I looked 
down and caught my breath at the sight of him, huge and 
hard, hanging between my legs.  He watched too, as he 
gently poked my entrance.  I felt my wetness burst loose 
and cover the end of his shaft.  "Oh!" I blew out.

He took a deep breath and slowly pushed his way inside.  I 
could feel him pushing my walls aside.  I was incredibly 
wet.  My walls parted like a wave as he slid inside.  We 
both groaned at the sensation.  Near the end, he was 
stretching me so taut.  It was on the edge of unbearable 
and I could feel the warm burn of muscles stretching.  He 
was staring at himself as he slipped inside.  

I had never been this full!

"Aaaawwww, Scully.  Aaaawww, oh this is so incredible," he 
murmured.

He paused, sensing my mini distress and waited.  I willed 
myself to relax and blew out another breath.  I nodded and 
he flexed his hips, driving the last of himself inside and 
pressing his sac against my ass.  He was in so deep.  We 
both groaned.  We stayed that way for a minute, humming at 
the feel of penetration.  

He finally moved his arms up to take his weight on his 
elbows.  He looked down one last time as if to confirm that 
this was really happening.  "So beautiful," he whispered, 
and started to move.

I couldn't seem to prevent the mantra of "Oh, oh, oh," that 
began to emerge with every deep, slow stroke.

I closed my eyes as the pleasure washed through me.  My 
walls loosened a bit and the feel of him, hot, hard and 
huge, sliding in and out of me was exquisite.  I'd 
forgotten how divine this feeling was.  He dipped his head 
and took one of my breasts in his mouth.  I shouted 
"Mulder!" and arched my torso off the bed, pushing myself 
into his warm, moist mouth.  

It felt so good, tingles of arousal shooting from my breast 
to my clit.  I choked out.  "Harder!  Suck it ... harder!"

He moaned against me and I felt the vibrations wash through 
my breast and into my womb.  He began to suckle me harder.  
As my groaning increased, so did his suction.

He was sucking ferociously, his back hunched over to reach.  
My hands ran over his back, feeling his ropy muscles move 
under his taut skin as he pumped himself in and out of me, 
never losing his rhythm. 

I felt my spine start to tingle and urged him on, my hands 
on his ass, pulling him as deep as he could go.  "Faster, 
Mulder, harder!"

He released my breast with an audible pop and buried his 
nose in my neck, sucking on the sensitive skin over my 
pulse.  I shouted as he began to pound into me, feeling him 
push my walls aside over and over, the slight burn of 
stretching escalating the sensation.  "Oh, God, Mulder, 
yes, right there, right there."

I didn't think he could hit me any harder, but he did.  He 
began to slam into me, my ass bouncing on the mattress from 
the impact.  His hands curled under my shoulders for 
leverage and pulled down from the top with every lunge 
inside me.  My belly tightened with that exquisite cringing 
sensation that happens just before an orgasm.  "Little 
more, little more," 
I panted.  "Don't stop!"

I shrieked, "Ooohhhh yeah, Muullddeerr!  Yes, Yes, Awww, 
yeah!" as my climax hit with the force of lightening, 
ripping through me from my core walls and spreading out 
over my whole body.  My scalp tingled and my nipples were 
so hard they hurt as his chest hair scraped across them as 
he continued to pound into me.

He shouted,  "Oh God, Scully!  Oh, oh, oh!"  

"Let go!" I nearly shouted at him.

He shouted as he began to jerk his hips and empty into me.  
I could feel the hot splash of his semen slam into my 
cervix and I tightened my wall muscles as hard as I could.  
"Scully!  Oh God, Oh God, Sccuullee!  Oh yeah! Oh Jesus!  
Scuuulllyyy."

He quivered to a stop, his weight delicious as it pinned me 
down.  We were slick with sweat and panting.  I was still 
dizzy from my climax when he began placing quick, little 
kisses all over my neck and collarbone.  He slid his head 
up my cheek and finally looked me in the eye.  "Christ, 
Scully.  That was so good."

"Hmm, for me too."

"You are so beautiful."

"You too."

"I love you, Scully."

The silence reigned for a couple of seconds.  I saw his 
eyes close and knew I couldn't keep it from him anymore.  
"I love you too, Mulder."  It was a whisper, but it was 
out.

His eyes snapped open and began to water.  He sucked in a 
deep breath.  "Scully, oh God."  He hugged me fiercely.

"You're saying that a lot lately."

He chuckled into my neck.  "I can't believe this."

"It is a little unreal, isn't it?"

"A lot unreal."

"I was scared."

"Of me?"

"No, of me.  Of how intensely I reacted to you, just your 
kiss.  It frightened me to think of how lost I was going to 
be when you really touched me, or made love to me."

"And the verdict?"

"I was as stunned and lost as I thought I would be."

"And?"

"And it was O.K., because you were right there with me."

He nuzzled my hair.  "Always, Scully.  I'm just as lost as 
you are, probably more."

"What now?"

"I don't know, but I know that I love you.  And I know that 
I'm not ever giving you up."

I chuckled as he rolled off me and pulled the blankets up.  
I curled up to his side and put my head on his shoulder.  
"That door swings both ways, Mulder."

"I'm all yours, Agent Scully.  Have been for a long time."

I pondered that for a moment and then decided I wanted to 
know.  "How long?"

"What do you mean?"

"How long have you been 'all mine.'"

He peered down at me and I looked at him sheepishly.  He 
chuckled, "Ever since you were returned to me."

"From Antarctica?"

He chuckled again.  "No, from Duanne Barry."

I gasped and looked up at him again.  "You're kidding, 
right?"

He didn't smile.  "No, I'm not.  When you were gone ... 
that's when I realized I was in love with you."

My head spun a little with that knowledge.  "So you've been 
..."

"Waiting a long time," he finished for me.  "In love with 
you for a long time.  What about you?"

I was trying to think of when I admitted that I was in love 
with him.  Frankly, it hadn't been too long ago.  But if I 
thought back to when the jealousies started, when the 
possessive feelings started, that was a different story.  
I'd been in love with him a long time, I realized.  I just 
hadn't identified what it was I was feeling.  I had 
disguised my feelings under the partner and friend 
headings.

He said, "Don't worry about it, Scully.  As long as you 
love me now."

I realized I'd been silent a little too long.  "No, I was 
just trying to think and I can't pin point it.  But its 
been at least, ... three years."

He sighed and pulled me into a tighter embrace.  "Why'd we 
wait so long?" he asked.

"Fear, I guess.  Plus, we both had stuff to resolve, work 
out before we could give ourselves to each other freely."

"Is that why ... now?  Because you can give yourself to me 
freely?" he asked.

"I think so.  I have no more hang ups about the Bureau and 
my career, what my family thinks, what might have been had 
I chose another path.  Plus, Severn said life was too short 
and we should grab happiness whenever we can, however we 
can and he's right.  Plus, you hit on me."

"Hey!" he exclaimed.  Then he sighed deeply.  "You still 
have choices, Scully."

"No!  I don't.  That's the point.  All roads lead to you, 
Mulder.  I wouldn't be happy anywhere else, don't you see?  
I wouldn't be happy because you wouldn't be there with me."

He pulled me up onto his chest, captured my head in his 
hands and brought me down for a bruising kiss.  It was a 
kiss of claiming, a kiss of affirmation and a kiss of 
gratitude.  I gave as good as I got.  Finally we broke for 
air and smiled at each other.

"I don't know how I got so lucky," he said.

"Ditto."

He smiled.  "I love you, Scully."

"I love you too, Mulder." 

He beamed at me.  "Hungry?"

"Starved!"

He chuckled rolled me off him.  "Let's go eat, then."