From: ANGELA WARD <tapw63@hotmail.com>
Date: Fri, 1 Mar 2002 10:26:47 -0800 (PST)
Subject: Fanfic submission
Source: direct


Title: "What You Do For Me"
Author: Angela W.
Categoy: MSR (Mulder/Scully married)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When Mulder is at his wit's end while
out-of-town investigating a case with the serial
killers task force, Scully comes to visit him.
Timespan/Spoilers: This is part of my "married"
series, which diverged from the "real" XF universe
about midway through season seven; assume everything
through the events of "Closure" has taken place, but
that Mulder was never abducted and that the
consumation of the MSR and the conception and birth of
their child were different from the events portrayed
in late season seven and beyond. No real spoilers,
although there are vague references to the events of 
several episodes from season six or before. In my
series, this story comes after "Home Again".
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. They
are the property of Chris Carter and 1013 Productions.
Feedback: If it's nice or contains *constructive*
criticism, feedback is valued.
Archive: Feel free to archive anywhere.


 FBI Special Agent Fox Mulder rolled his shoulders as
he stared at the autopsy reports in front of him. He
and the other members of  his serial killers task
force has been in Charleston, South Carolina for a
week, trying to track down a serial killer who was
operating in the historic city.

 There were obvious religious overtones to the crimes,
as the victims had all been found on the doorsteps of
churches. All the victims were white, male and ranged
in age from early adolescence to mid-20s. Other than 
that, Mulder was stymied in his attempts to find a
connection between them. His initial guess was that
religion would be the common denominator, but it
simply wasn't. One victim had been a devout Catholic,
another an equally devout Baptist. The others had
included those who professed Christian beliefs but
only attended chuch sporadically, one who had been
raised in an extremely fundamentalist church but had
ignored its teachings since turning 18 and one who was
pretty much an agnostic and had never - as far as
Mulder had been able to ascertain - been formally
affiliated with a church of any kind. He couldn't find
any place or time where their paths could have
crossed. They came from all socio-economic levels and
had lived in the city for time periods ranging from
just a few months to their entire lives. Well, they
were all single, but that was pretty much to be
expected, given their ages. The youngest victim was
only 11, the oldest was just 24; not many men married
prior to 25 nowadays.

 All Mulder knew was that if he didn't find a
connection or a key soon, this coming Sunday morning
or one soon after, another congregation would arrive
at church to find a dead body blocking their entrance
to the anctuary.

"Mulder? Why don't you go back to the motel, try to
get some sleep?" Special Agent Andrew Chan 
suggested.

"Yeah," Mulder agreed. But as soon as he entered his
hotel room, Mulder realized sleep was likely to prove 
elusive. He undressed anyway and lay down on the bed,
but the details of the case kept flitting through his
mind. Eventually he drifted off into a fitful,
troubled sleep.

***

 Several hours later, Special Agent Dana Scully woke
from what had been a sound sleep with her heart
pounding and sheets drenched in sweat. She felt like
she'd had a nightmare but, at the same time, she 
didn't think the dream was hers. It must be Mulder's,
she realized. While Scully was usually a sceptic when
it came to paranormal processes like dream
communication, she'd stop fighting the fact that she
could sometimes tap into her husband's subconscious
while they were both asleep, no matter how far away
they were from each other physically. It had simply
happened too often for her to ignore it or explain
it away as coincidence.

Scully reached for the cell phone beside their bed and
pushed the first button on the speed dial.

***

Mulder tossed restlessly as the faceless killer
advanced upon him. There were church bells ringing in
the background. 

 Suddenly he realized that the sound wasn't bells, but
his cell phone. Now awake, but with the dream still
vivid in his mind, Mulder reached for it. "Mulder," he
muttered.

"Mulder, it's me. You need me down there, don't you?"

If he'd had a few minutes to compose himself, Mulder
would have thanked his wife for her concern but
waived off her offer. But he was still half asleep and
still frightened by the adversary his subconscious had
supplied. "Please. Come to me, Scully."

***

By mid-morning, Scully and their daughter, Melissa,
were on their way. Scully actually enjoyed the chance
to do some interstate driving. Despite the fact that
she and Mulder differed from the stereotypical married
couple in many fashions, they clung to the traditonal
sex roles when it came to driving. If they were both
in the car, her husband was the one behind the wheel
about 98 percent of the time.

 They stopped for lunch at a fast food restaurant that
provided an attached playground where Melissa could
toddle and play in a ball pit after eating. As soon as
they were back on the highway, the baby's dark curls
began to nod and soon she was asleep. She didn't waken
again until her mother had pulled into the parking lot

of the motel.

"Come on, sweetie, let's go see Daddy," Scully said,
lifting the little girl out of her car seat.

"Daddy?" Melissa asked, her face lighting up.

However, after stopping by the front desk to pick up
the key card her husband had left for her, Scully
reached the room and realized her husband was nowhere
in sight. Probably off interviewing the family member
of one of the victims or viewing the site where one of
 the bodies had been found, she thought.

Melissa wandered around the room, looking behind
curtains and in closets, saying, "Daddy?" at regular
intervals, as if she suspected her father of playing
hide and seek with her. 

"He's not here yet, Melissa," Scully explained. "But
soon."

***

It was well into the evening hours when Mulder and the
rest of his crew finally returned to the hotel. Mulder
was tired, angry and frustrated. The feelings abated,
however, when he spied a familiar car in the parking
lot. He practically ran down the corridor to his room.
As soon as he opened the door, a small figure clad
only in a diaper and smelling of innocence hurled
herself into his arms. "Daddy!"

Mulder tried to return the enthusiastic kisses his
daughter was showering on his face and, at the same
time, scan the room for his wife. He felt a gentle
touch on his back, just below his neck. "You're tense,
lover. Why don't you take off your shirt and I'll give
you a back rub?"

"As soon as Melissa lets go of me. I think I'm in
danger of being loved to death here," Mulder replied
with a chuckle.

They eventually managed to make it to one of the two
double beds in the room, where a nearly naked Melissa
and a shirtless Mulder stretched out beside each
other. Scully straddled her husband's hips and began
working her hands along the knotted muscles of his
spine.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, Melissa?"

"Daddy!" she said triumphantly, patting her father's
cheek. Scully had the amused notion that their
daughter
actually believed Mulder had been in the room all
along, but that she had only "found" him after
emerging
from her bath.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Melissa."

"Woof-woof, key-cat," she said in a solemn tone.

 "Uh, you want to translate for me, Mommy?" Mulder
said then let out a low moan as Scully put a little
more pressure into the tight muscles between his
shoulders.

"I think she's trying to tell you that Elvis chased a
kitty cat out of our yard this morning," Scully
explained.

After massaging her husband's back until the tension
was gone, Scully slid off the bed and said, "I'm going
to take a bath. Why don't you see if you can persuade
our little near-nudist here to put on her pajamas,
then
sing her to sleep?"

"Will do," Mulder agreed.

***

When Scully finally emerged from the bathroom - with
Mulder there to watch Melissa, she hadn't thought
it necessary to do the usual rush job while she kept
alert for the sound of her daughter - she found father
and daughter snuggled together on the bed with their
eyes closed. Melissa was asleep, but still clad in
only her diaper. Oh well, Scully thought with a smile,
one out of two wasn't bad. 

 Scully assumed Mulder was asleep, too. She was glad;
he needed some rest. She was debating whether
she wanted to try to squeeze into the same bed as the
rest of her family or lay down in the other one when
her husband opened his eyes and smiled at her.
Bringing a finger to his lips to indicate they should
be quiet, he slowly slid Melissa's arm off his chest
and stood up. Melissa gurgled for a moment, but her
father pulled the covers up around her and stroked her
cheek gently, and she settled back down to sleep.

Mulder stood up and stretched and Scully was struck
anew by how *big* her husband was. Not just his
height, but his broad chest with its mat of crisp hair
in the middle, his well muscled arms and his
incredibly
long, strong legs. With a grin, he reached out to
touch her and with a single flick of his dexterous
fingers, the towel she'd had wrapped around her was on
the floor.

 Not to be outdone, Scully reached for his belt buckle
and quickly unfastened it. She slid his slacks and
boxer-briefs - the only two items of clothing he was
still wearing - down to his feet and he stepped out of
them.

 Mulder pulled the covers down on the empty bed and
gestured with his hand, as if to say, "After you, my
dear." Scully slid in and scooted over, so that Mulder
had room to lay beside her. It wasn't until after they
were both in bed that she spoke.

"I thought you were asleep. You looked tired."

"I am. But I haven't even had a chance to kiss you
hello yet; somebody else was monopolizing my
attention."

"Yes, I know, but she's asleep now," Scully pointed
out.

Mulder brought his mouth down to hers and Scully felt
the familiar rush of wetness between her legs as his
tongue began a leisurely exploration. After being
married to Mulder for nearly three years and having
given birth to his daughter over a year ago, it was
amazing that a simple kiss could still turn her on
this much, she thought hazily, with the small part of
her brain that was still functioning. Of course, it
*had* been nearly a week since the last kiss. And they
*were* naked.

When Mulder eventually lifted his mouth from hers,
Scully gave a small whimper.

"Shh!" Mulder whispered, his voice amused in her ear.
"We're going to have to be quiet; Melissa's asleep
not five feet away."

"I know," Scully whispered back. "I love you. And I
missed you."

"I love you, too. Thanks for coming down. I probably
shouldn't have asked, but I was going nuts without
you."

"So what else is new, Mulder?" she replied with a
smile, only to have to bite her lip to keep from
groaning when he began to nip at her neck.

Scully managed to keep quiet - although her breathing
was ragged - as her husband licked her breasts and 
stroked her back, bottom and thighs. When she moved
her hand between his legs, though, she was surprised
to find he was still small, not hard and engorged as
she'd expected.

"Fox? Do you want me to use my mouth?" she inquired,
beginning to slide down the bed.

"Sure," he replied. However, after several minutes, he
still hadn't sprung to attention and he lifted her
back
up so that their faces were side by side on the
pillow.

"Sorry about that Dana," he murmured. 

"It's okay, Fox. You're over 40 now. This is going to
happen once in a while especially when you're under
the kind of stress you've been dealing with during the
past week. The important thing is not obsess about
it."

Scully would have kept on talking, but her husband
stopped his fingers pressed gently against her lips.
"Thank you for the medical information, Dr. Scully.
I'm well aware that most middle-aged men experience
occasional episodes of impotence and that, unless it
happens frequently, it's not anything to worry about.
And, actually, an inability to get an immediate
erection every single time I want one isn't going to
make me feel like I'm less of a man than the
twentysomething guys on my squad or rush out to my
doctor and demand a prescription for viagra. The
question now is, what can I do for you?"

"Fox, you don't have to do anything! I'm just so glad
to be with you, to hold you."

"Damn it, Scully, don't do this to me!" Mulder hissed.
Scully had the feeling he would have shouted if it
hadn't been for their daughter asleep in the same
room.

"Do what?"

"Lie to me about sex. Issue the equivalent of "I'm
fine, Mulder", when you're practically throbbing with
unfulfilled sexual tension! Because, while the
inability to get an erection might not harm my sense
of manhood, leaving my wife restless and unsatisfied
damned sure will. You want to come, Dana. You *need*
to come. I can see it in your eyes, feel it dripping
onto my fingers. . .hell, Scully, I can *smell* it!"

Scully let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd
been holding. "You're right, Mulder. I'm sorry. I
shouldn't have lied to you. . .even though simply
holding you *does* make me happy. But. . ."

"What?" he murmured.

"Would you use your mouth, please?"

Mulder flashed her a grin and murmured, "C'mere." Then
he pulled Scully up so that she was straddling his
face
and he had her ass cupped in his hands.
 
Scully reached out to grab the headboard as she
lowered herself onto her husband's mouth. While Mulder

frequently performed oral sex on her, this position
was unusual. Generally, she was lying on her back with
her head on the pillow while he knelt between her
legs. Or, if they were engaging in mutual oral-genital
stimulation, she'd lie on top of him. But to simply
sit on his face like this. . .it seemed a bit like a
scene from one of those movies Mulder had watched back
in their pre-marital partnership days; the ones that
weren't his.

Still, Scully realized this felt awfully good. His
tongue could angle deeper inside her in this position
than it usually did and his nose was getting into the
act, too. She flexed and arched and felt the familiar
quivering begin between her legs. Mulder brought one
of his fingers around to join the party and she came
against him with a shudder, biting her lip hard to
keep from making any noise.

 As Mulder repositioned her so that she was snuggled
in his arms, with her face next to his on the pillow,
he flashed her a smug smile. "See, Scully? Isn't
honesty the best policy?"

"Mmm. Yes. I love you. Sleep now."

***

The next morning, Mulder awoke drenched in sweat from
another nightmare about the killer. This time it 
apparently hadn't transmitted itself to Scully, as she
lay sleeping soundly in his arms. He realized he
wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, but at least he
felt more refreshed than he had for several mornings.
He slid out of bed and pulled on a tank top and
jogging shorts, then put on his running shoes.

"Mulder?" Scully murmured sleepily.

"Going out for a run. I'll be back in a bit, then
we'll go down to breakfast after I shower."

Scully  nodded and buried her face in the pillow that
still bore his scent, trying to grab an extra few
minutes of sleep. As the mother of a toddler and with
a job that, despite only requiring her to work three
days a week demanded her full concentration when she
was in the labs, she'd learned to grab every moment of
rest she could. However, just as she had fallen fully
back asleep, the phone rang. "Hello?" she answered,
her voice still husky with sleep.

"Er, I'm trying to contact Special Agent Fox Mulder.
Do I have the right room?" a male voice inquired. It
was vaguely familiar to Scully, but she wasn't yet
awake enough to put a name to it.

"Yes," Scully said, still not functioning enough to
identify the voice.

"I'll call back later," the voice replied.

As soon as she hung up, Scully heard Melissa give her
usual morning greeting of "Mommy! Up! Up!" and 
slid out of bed to change her daughter's diaper and
get them both dressed for the day.

***

Special Agents Tom Colton and Andrew Chan were sitting
in the hotel dining room engaging in a furious,
albeit soft-voiced, debate.

"I'm telling you, Spooky picked up some woman for the
night!" Colton said. "I called his room and a woman
answered. And it wasn't a wrong number, because I
*asked* if it was Fox Mulder's room and she said yes!"

"Colton, for all you know it was the maid!" Chan
snapped back.

"She sounded awfully sleepy for a maid," Colton
replied with a sneer. "And have you ever heard of
a hotel maid starting her housekeeping routine before
seven in the morning?"

"I'm sure there's an explanation," Chan replied. "In
any case, it isn't your business, my business or the
business of anyone on the task force except Agent
Mulder." 

"It's Agent Scully's business," Colton pointed out.
"I'm a friend of hers; we went through the Academy
together. If her husband makes a habit of having sex
with strangers when he goes out-of-town for business,
she has a right to know. It's not just a matter of
morality, it's a matter of her health. Some sexually
transmitted diseases can kill, you know."

"I'm aware of that," Chan said, his voice tight.
"Look, if you really think it's necessary to inform
Agent Scully of your suspicions - and remember, that's
all they are, suspicions - fine, tell her. But only
her. If I find out you've been spreading rumors
throughout the task force or to other members of the
bureau. . ."

Before Chan could finish his sentence,  Mulder walked
in. . .hand-in-hand with Scully and with their
daughter in his arms. When Scully spied Colton, her
face seemed to light up.

"Colton! It was you who called our room this morning,
wasn't it? I'm sorry I sounded so spacey."

"Colton, you are a *complete* idiot," Chan muttered,
too quietly for Mulder and Scully to hear. Actually,
he
was annoyed with himself for not thinking of the
rational explanation: that the woman most likely to be
asleep in Mulder's bed was his wife.

As the other agents who were members of the task force
joined them for breakfast, most greeted Scully with
little surprise and Melissa with expressions of
delight.

"I didn't know you were going to be joining us on this
investigation, Agent Scully," Agent Donna Briggs - the

only female agent on Mulder's force - said politely.
"I mean. . .all the bodies have already been
autopsied."

Scully shrugged. "I'm not really here in an official
capacity, although I suppose I could do some lab work
if it should become necessary. But, as you can see, I
brought our daughter with me. The only way I'd be
free to work would be for Mulder to stay here at the
hotel and keep an eye on Melissa. Since he's the head
of the task force, that hardly seems a good idea."

"Well, we're glad to have you," Agent Charles
Guillbeau said. "Agent Mulder seems to think more
clearly when you're around."

"Amen to that," Mulder replied with a nod.

***

Scully spent the morning walking through the historic
district of the lovely seaside city. There were
several
public parks full of azaleas and magnolias where she
let Melissa get out of the stroller and wander around.

Just when Scully was about to head back for the hotel
for lunch, her cell phone rang.

"Scully."

"Hey, are my two favorite girls free for lunch?"
Mulder asked.

"You bet. Where do you want  us to meet you?"

"There's a seafood restaurant right on the shore, a
few blocks from our hotel. I figured you'd like that,
my little beach bunny."

"Mulder, I *sincerely* hope no other members of your
team can overhear this conversation!"

"What, you don't want to be nicknamed Agent Beach
Bunny?"

"I think I'll stick with Mrs. Spooky, thank you very
much. See you in a bit."

During lunch, Mulder shared his frustrations and
information about the case with his wife.

"So what's your theory, Mulder?"

"At this point, I don't have one, Scully. The fact
that all the victims were found on church steps
practically screams 'religious mania' but, like I
said, other than the fact that all of them were at
least vaguely Christian in their beliefs there's no
common denominator. And, let's face it, in the Deep
South you're not going to find too may Buddhists,
outright atheists or whatever."

Scully noticed that the waitress -- a  nondescript
woman in her early 20s, with mousy brown hair and hint
of acne on her chin -- was listening to their
conversation with rapt attention. Scully assumed she
was just curious. Mulder's holstered weapon was in
plain view just under his shoulder and he'd told his
wife he'd been on several of the local newscasts a
couple of nights earlier, asking that anyone with
information or suspicions about the case call him at
the Charleston Police Headquarters.

After they'd finished eating and paid the bill, Mulder
asked Scully what she planned to do for the rest of
the day.

"Well, I think Melissa's ready for a nap; after that,
she and I will probably go for a walk on the beach."

"I don't know when I'll be back at the hotel, Scully.
Probably not 'til late. I guess it was sort of selfish
of me to ask you to come down here, then leave you on
your own for most of the day and evening."

Scully shook her head. "You're working, Mulder. I'm a
big girl and it's not like I don't have
companionship," she said, letting her hand rest
briefly on Melissa's downy cheek. "Even when we worked
together full-time, on the X-Files, it's not like we
were side-by-side all day everyday. Lots of times we'd
go our separate ways for hours on end, you to
interview suspects and me to perform autopsies. Call
me if you need me, otherwise don't worry."

"Right. Bye," he murmured dropping quick kisses on
Dana's and Melissa's cheeks in turn.

***

Several hours later, refreshed from their naps, Scully
and her daughter sat on a pier, tossing bits of stale
bread to the seagulls and pelicans that circled the
wharf. Melissa squealed with delight every time one of
the birds dive-bombed the water. Scully was so intent
on the birds and her daughter, that she paid little
attention to the rest of her surroundings. She was in
"Mommy-mode" not "FBI Agent-mode".

 The first she was aware of the presence of another
person on the pier was when a voice sounded a few
inches above her ear. "Hey. Lady."

Scully turned with a start and found the waitress who
had served them at lunch squatting behind her.

"Yes?"

"That man you were with at lunch. The handsome,
dark-haired guy. He's your husband?"

"Yes," Scully replied, trying to quickly assess the
situation. The three of them were alone on the pier.
If she placed herself between Melissa and the
waitress, Melissa would be perilously close to the
edge. But she didn't feel comfortable leaving her
daughter between the two of them. She reached out and
scooped Melissa into her lap, trying to make the
gesture seem casual.

"He's an FBI Agent, right? Sent down here to
investigate all these killings of the young guys."

"That's right," Scully replied.

"There's a place called Joe's. A comic book and
trading card shop not far from downtown. Tell him to
check out the owner." After saying that, the woman
turned and walked quickly back to the esplanade.

Scully balanced Melissa on one hip while she whipped
out her cell phone and hit the first number on the
speed dial. "Mulder, it's me," she said when the
familiar voice answered on the other end. "I think I
may have a lead for you."

***

It was well past midnight, but Scully couldn't sleep.
Mulder had called her once, a couple of hours after
she'd called him, to tell her that he was going to be
staking out the place she'd mentioned and that he'd be
turning the ringer off on his cell phone. She and
Melissa had eaten supper, then she'd bathed the baby
and read to her. After that, she and her daughter had
indulged in the rare treat of watching cartoons
together in bed; at home, Scully was strict about
limiting Melissa's TV watching to no more than an hour
per day, but on vacation -- without the usual
distractions of a houseful of toys and a playful dog
--she tended to relax her standards a bit. 

 Melissa had been asleep for hours, however, and
Scully had had little to do but channel surf and pace
the room. She was restless and would have liked to go
out for a run or a swim but, of course, that was
impossible; she couldn't leave her daughter alone.

 Finally, just when Scully had decided she'd better
lay down and at least attempt to get some sleep, so
that she wouldn't be a zombie when Melissa awoke at
the break of dawn the next morning, the door inched
quietly open. Scully had a frisson of fear before she
recognized the familiar tall frame in the doorway.

"Hi, Fox," she said softly, trying not to startle him.

"Dana? You're still awake? I thought you'd have gone
to sleep hours ago!"

"I was worried about you. And curious about the case."

"I'm fine and the case is solved."

"Tell me about it," she invited, patting the spot
beside her in bed. 

"Give me a minute in the bathroom, then I'll give you
all the details," he agreed.

"What You Do For Me" (part 2)
Disclaimed, summarized, etc. in part 1


Mulder was as good as his word. Barely a minute later,
stripped down to his boxer-briefs and smelling faintly
of toothpaste, he slid into bed beside Scully. He
leaned down and kissed her gently, then said, "You're
a genius, you know that?"

"Me? Why?"

"Because I had an entire task force down here for a
full week and we didn't make an inch worth's of
progress on this case. You wander into town and before
you're here for more than 24 hours, people are
crawling out of the woodwork to give you vital clues
that allow us to make an arrest. I think the wrong
member of this family heads up my division."

"Well, Melissa's too little to work full-time and I
don't want to," Scully replied. "Besides, I'm not sure
what it is I actually *did*. The waitress recognized
you from TV and she had some vital information to
impart about the case. She approached me instead of
you, because. . .well. . ."

"I don't know why, but I could take a guess," Mulder
said. "For some reason men, perhaps particularly men
in positions of authority, like law enforcement
officers, frighten her. There could any number of
reasons for it: she could be a victim of rape, or
domestic violence or God only knows what else. But
you're a woman. Not just a woman, a mother with a
beautiful baby girl. You're the very definition of
gentle and trustworthy. So she approached you when she
couldn't bring herself to approach me."

"So what did you find out, Mulder? What weird
religious obsession led to this man - Joe, I'm
presuming - killing all these boys and young men?"

"Nothing, Scully. There was no religious obsession, no
sexual angle, nothing -- speaking as a criminal
profiler -- particularly interesting about these
crimes. It was all smoke and mirrors. These were
crimes for profit, pure and simple. What I learned
was: collectibles can be a cutthroat industry. Joe was
apparently a loner with few friends and no close
family members. He prided himself on having the most
extensive and valuable collection of comic
books and trading cards, with some of the rarest
items, in the entire southeastern section of the
United States. Occasionally, when somebody approached
him offering to sell him an item he couldn't afford
but that he really wanted, he'd arrange for them to
come back at a time when he'd be alone in the store.
Then he'd kill them, take the item, and dump the
body."

"But why on the steps of churches, Mulder?"

"Apparently, people like me have received a bit too
much publicity in the last few years. He figured that
by leaving the victims on church steps, I'd jump to
exactly the conclusion I did - that there had to be a
warped, religious angle to the crimes. I almost forgot
the most fundamental question every investigator is
supposed to ask about every crime: who benefits
financially."

"So everything's wrapped up?"

"Pretty much so," Mulder replied. Then gave a huge
yawn, glanced over at his daughter asleep in the 
neighboring bed, spooned Scully up next to him, and
was snoring in her ear in less than a minute. Scully
smiled softly as she snuggled down in his arms. As a
doctor, she knew exactly what had just happened:
the adrenalin rush that had been fueling her husband
during the investigation had given out and he'd
crashed.

***

It was early afternoon of the following day before the
various members of the task force were able to begin 
travelling back to Washington. Most of the members
were flying from Charleston to Dulles, but Mulder 
had elected to drive back with Scully and Melissa. 

They'd been on the road for several hours, and were
discussing whether they should begin looking for
a place to stop for dinner now or wait until Melissa -
currently asleep in her car seat in the back - woke
up. For the past thirty miles, they'd been driving in
rain, but it was becoming heavier by the minute. 

"God, Mulder! This is almost as bad as that time you
tried to drive through the hurricane in Florida."

"Where's Arthur Dales when you really need him?"
Mulder muttered.

After a few more minutes, Mulder spied a rest area and
pulled over. "I'm not even going to try to drive
in this. There's no reason. We'll just wait here 'til
it lets up. If Melissa wakes up. . .well, you've got
juice and snacks and stuff in her diaper bag, the way
you always do. It's not like she'll starve."

"So what do you suggest we do in the meantime,
Mulder?"

"We could always make out," he suggested. Then he
waited for the usual eye-rolling or for Scully to
point
out that Melissa was sleeping only a few feet away. 

Instead there was a long moment of silence, then the
sound of Scully's seatbelt being released and her
seat being pushed back as far as it would go. "I think
it would work better if you came over here. And, Fox,
you do realize that if Melissa wakes up we'll have to
quit immediately, no matter how, er, far along things
are? We don't want to warp her for life."

"Actually," Mulder said slowly, easing over to
Scully's seat and lifting her up so that she was
sitting in his lap, "I've read that almost all kids
walk in on their parents making love at least once
during their childhood. As long as what they witness
is normal, loving sex - nothing involving violence or
humiliation - it doesn't do them a bit of harm. They
just block it out of their memories. Some
psychologists even say that those subconscious, buried
memories of parental sex form the building blocks of
our own sexual behavior when we're adults. But, yes,
of course we'll quit if we realize Melissa is awake
and watching us."

"So, Fox, when you were undergoing all your
hypnoregression therapy back to your childhood days,
did you discover any memories of parental sex in there
with the aliens?" Scully asked as she settled herself
more comfortably on her husband's lap and began
unbuttoning his shirt so that she could slide her hand
inside and caress his well-muscled chest.

"Please, Dana! If you don't want me to have a repeat
of the problem I suffered the other night, don't bring
my parents into this conversation."

"You were lucky," Scully pointed out. "You only had
one sibling; you could allow yourself to believe that
your parents had only had sex twice. Once I had
learned the facts of life, I was forced to acknowledge
that Mom and Dad had "done it" at least four times!"

"I'm not too wild about the idea of bringing *your*
parents into this conversation, either," Mulder said.
Then, deciding that there was an obvious solution to
keep her from talking, he brought Scully's mouth to
his in a forceful kiss. It was deep and passionate,
similar to the one they'd shared so many years ago --
and despite Scully insistance that it was all a dream,
he still believed they'd really been there -- on the
Queen Mary. 

This time, however, when the kiss ended she didn't
punch him. Instead she sighed deeply and said, "I love
you, Mulder. Kiss me again, please."

"I love you, too, Scully," he replied, before doing as
she'd asked. He let his hand glide down to her breast
and began stroking her nipple through the double layer
of her dress and bra.

 When they came up for air again, she whispered, "I
can't feel you enough." Pushing herself a bit away
from
his body, she unbuttoned the bodice of her dress and
reached behind her back to unhook her bra. Then
she replaced his hand on her breast and wiggled
ecstatically on his lap as he pinched her nipple
lightly.

Mulder grinned at her enthusiastic response and slid
his hand to the other breast. He knew she'd pout
if both didn't receive equal attention. Scully zeroed
in on his neck and began licking and nipping at it.

"This seems awfully familiar," Scully murmured.

"We've done something vaguely similar a few time
before," Mulder replied, his tongue delicately tracing
the outline of her ear.

"I don't mean the sexy stuff," Scully explained. "I
mean being in a car with you while it's pouring down
raining outside. Is it just my imagination, or did it
rain an awful lot the first year we worked the X-Files
together?"

"Every single, damned case," Mulder confirmed. "A
lesser woman would have taken it as a sign from God
to get as far away as she could, as fast as she
could."

"I've always liked the rain," Scully replied with a
sigh. "And I liked you phoning me late at night, right
before I went to sleep. . .did I ever tell you that?"

"Mmm. No, but you never told me to stop calling you at
that ungodly hour, so I figured you didn't mind too
much."

Mulder moved his hand up under her dress to squeeze
her bottom lightly. Only the wispy lace of her panties
separated their skin. "Dana, how far did you want to
take things? I mean, are we just making out or. . ."

"Or am I going to let you go all the way?" she
whispered, an teasing glint in her eyes.

"Yeah. Tonight I'm primed and ready."

"I sort of noticed that Mulder. I'm sitting directly
on the evidence."

"So. .  .?"

"Is Melissa still asleep?"

Mulder craned his head back to look at his daughter's
face. "Yep. Her eyes are closed. Besides it's almost
dark in here, even if she wakes up she's not going to
be able to see much. And all she'd see anyway, from
the
angle she's at, is you sitting on my lap and me
kissing you; she sees that all the time."

"Okay, pull off my panties."

Mulder bit back a groan as he hooked his fingers in
the elastic at her hips and slowly eased them down.
Scully knew how much he liked to be the one to remove
her clothes. Of course, she was doing the same thing
to him, yanking off his shirt and fumbling for the
zipper in his shorts. Once she had him in hand and he
had her panties off, she slowly eased herself down on
him. The confines of the car didn't leave much room
for manuvering, but he set up a gentle rocking motion
that bounced her bare bottom softly against his thighs
and brushed her breasts against the wiry hair on his
chest.

After a few minutes, Scully moaned softly in his ear
and came with a shudder that ran through her body all
the way from her widened eyes to her twitching toes.
Normally, this position wasn't the easiest one in the
world for Mulder to climax in, but he let the sound of
the rain drumming on the roof and his wife's earlier
comments bring him back to the time when having his
pretty partner bare-assed in his lap while he fucked
the living daylights out of her had seemed to be an
impossible dream. . .and the fact that it was really
happening, rather than just a sexual fantasy, pushed
him over the edge.

Scully was dozing in his arms, his now softening cock
still partially inside her, when two things happened
almost simultaneously. The rain came to an abrupt halt
and a small voice called out "Mommy?"

"Yes, Melissa," Scully said automatically, reaching
out to touch her daughter's petal-soft cheek.

"Up!" Melissa demanded.

"You can't get up, sweetie," Scully explained. "We're
still in the car. But soon we'll stop to eat and you
can get out."

"Up!" Melissa repeated.

"You heard Mommy, Melissa," Mulder said. "No 'up'
until we've reached a restaurant or a motel."

"Daddy?" Melissa said, her small voice sounding
puzzled. Although she lacked the verbal skills to come
out with words she needed, the tone of her voice made
it clear that she was trying to say, "Daddy, why
are you in Mommy's seat instead of behind the wheel?"

"Daddy was just taking a little break from driving,"
Mulder explained, sliding his hands between his body
and his wife's to zip up his pants. He reached for his
shirt and pulled it back on, then shifted back into
his seat. "As soon as Mommy buckles back up, we'll
start driving again. When we stop for dinner, we'll
get you some French fries."

"Fies!" Melissa shouted, clapping her hands
enthusiastically.

"Just a minute," Scully replied, feeling around the
floorboard of the car to find her panties, then easing
them back on before she rebuckled her seat belt.
"Okay, let's roll."


***

Several days later, Scully was at work when she
received a notice to report to Section Chief Kersh
that afternoon. Wonder what he wants now, she thought
idly. The man had been a thorn in the sides of 
both her and Mulder since several years before their
marriage. She didn't have to deal with him much
any more, now that she was out at Quantico, and
Skinner usually ran interference between Mulder and
Kersh, since he was Mulder's direct supervisor. Still,
when an FBI section chief requested your presence,
every agent in the bureau knew it was a "request" that
had best be honored if you hoped to keep your job.

When Scully reported to headquarters that afternoon,
she wasn't surprised to see her husband in Kersh's
outer office, as well. What *did* surprise her was the
presence of Agent Guilbeau, Mulder's second-in-
command on the serial killers task force.

"Just out of curiousity, Mulder, what are you in
trouble for now?" Scully inquired as she sat down
beside him.

"This time around, I honestly have no idea," he
replied.

"Agents. Come into my office," Kersh said at that
moment.

Once they were all seated, Mulder asked, "Is there
some problem with my report, sir? We apprehended
the killer of all those boys and young men in
Charleston."

"So you did," Kersh replied. "But yes, I do have a
problem. In your report, you say that the decision to 
run surveillance on the storeowner who turned out to
be the alleged murderer was based on information 
provided to Agent Scully by an informant who
approached her anonymously. What I want to know is: 
what the hell was Agent Scully doing in Charleston in
the first place? Unless someone forgot to inform me,
she wasn't assigned to that case."

"She. . .I" Mulder and Scully began, both trying to
speak at the same time.

"Agent Mulder, please. Allow Dr. Scully to speak,"
Kersh said.

"I don't work on Fridays, so I have a three-day
weekend. Melissa - that's our daughter - and I wanted
to go down to Charleston. I drove my personal vehicle
and paid for all of my and Melissa's expenses out of
my own pocket. I didn't miss any of the days I was
supposed to be working out at Quantico, so I'm
confused
as to exactly what the problem is, sir."

"Why did you want to go to Charleston, Agent Scully?"

"Because Melissa and I were lonely for our Daddy,"
Scully replied with icy composure.

"I see," Kersh replied.

"May I speak now?" Mulder inquired, the clenched
muscles in his jaw the only proof of how perilously 
close he was to losing his temper.

"Certainly," Kersh answered.

"Agent Scully came down at my specific request. Not as
an agent but as my wife. Because I was going nuts
down there. Profiling is a dirty, tricky business.
Sometimes it can drag the profiler right to the edge
of sanity. Sometimes, as with Bill Patterson, it can
drag you right over the abyss into insanity. You know
that as well as I do. Criminal profiling has the
highest burnout rate of any job category within the
bureau. I realize some people around here already
question my grip on  my sanity, but I don't want it to
get any looser than it is. So if you're 
going to bust someone's ass for this, bust mine, not
Scully's. She doesn't deserve this. She's never once
called *me* to come out to Quantico and hold her hand
while she performs an autopsy. She's perfectly capable
of doing doing her job without my help. I'm the one
who's incapable of doing mine without spousal
support," Mulder snapped. 

"That is, at least, an honest appraisal of the
situation," Kersh said. "Agent Mulder, you are
temporarily suspended from all duties until a
psychiatric evaluation can be completed to see if
you're fit for your current assignment. Specail Agent
Guilbeau, you're to take over command of the serial
task killers taskn force."

"No."

Mulder, Scully and Kersh all stared at Guilbeau in
surprise. It was the first word he'd spoken so far.

"What did you say, Agent Guilbeau?" Kersh inquired.

"I said no," Guilbeau repeated, rising to his full
height and leaning both hands on Kersh's desk to look
him straight in the eye. The two men were the same age
and race, but that was where the similarities ended.
Kersh was a desk jockey who hadn't been in the field
in over a decade, while Guilbeau was an active
investigative agent with a long history of undercover
assignments. He was also several inches taller and a
several pounds heavier - all of it muscle - than his
supervisor. 

"I will not take Agent Mulder's position away from him
due to your vindicativeness," Guilbeau continued. 
"Unless I'm very much mistaken, the purpose of the FBI
going down there was to find out who was killing
those kids. We did that. If Agent Mulder needed to
call in his wife to make that happen, I'm okay with
that. Hell, if the two of them needed to have sex on
the beach to make it happen, I would, personally,
volunteer to babysit their daughter so they could get
on with it!"

"That's part of the problem," Kersh snapped. "We can't
have agents using out-of-town assignments to
indulge in second honeymoons."

"Not that it's really any of your business, Kersh, but
if it will put your mind at ease, I can give you my 
word that Scully and I didn't have sex while we were
in South Carolina working on the case together,"
Mulder chimed in. He was actually busy fighting down
the amazement that had arisen at Guilbeau's spirited
defense of his actions. Mulder knew he was respected
by the other members of his task force. But - with the
major exception of Scully - he'd always thought of 
himself as outside the close-knit community of fellow
agents. He'd never thought he'd see the day when
anyone other than Scully, except possibly Skinner,
would stand up for him this way.

"Mulder is the best profiler I've ever seen," Guilbeau
continued. "And that includes the legendary Frank
Black, with whom I had the privilege to work early in
my career. Mulder's not only doing his own job, he's
mentoring Special Agent Andrew Chan to the point where
Chan may be able to take over the task force in
another ten years or so. Right now, there's nobody
else who's capable of doing the job. Oh, Tom Colton
would probably jump at the chance to head it up if you
offered it to him, but he'd do a piss-poor job at it.
So, I'm not taking over. Mulder's my boss. If you take
him off the serial killers task force and assign him
to do wire taps and manure checks, then I'll do that
right along with him. If you assign him back to his
beloved X-Files, tracking down aliens and werewolves,
then I guess I'll load up on my supply of silver
bullets. Am I making myself clear, sir?"

Kersh took a deep breath. He knew when he was beaten.
Other than Guilbeau, none of the other agents on
the task force had the skills and experience to head
it up. And, as much as he disliked Mulder personally,
he had a grudging respect for any boss who could
inspire this sort of loyalty in his team members.

"Fine," Kersh said. "But I'll be watching you. All
three of you. Dismissed."

As the three agents walked down the corridor together,
Mulder said, "Guilbeau. . .thanks. I appreciate it.
But I hope you know what you're doing. You've just
made yourself a powerful enemy."

"I'm aware of that, Mulder," Guilbeau replied. "But I
think I've also made a couple of important allies -
two agents who may be a bit out of the bureau
mainstream, but whose loyalty to their friends and
bravery in assisting them is worth having."

"Thank you, Guilbeau."

"I meant what I said, Agent Scully. Having you on a
case with us always makes things go more smoothly."

"Why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off,"
Mulder told his employee. "I think Scully and I will
just head on home from here. It's almost four
already."

Guilbeau nodded and left them.

As they approached their car, Scully said, "You were
kind of splitting hairs in there with Kersh, weren't
you? I mean, technically we didn't have *intercourse*
while we were in South Carolina, but. . ."

Mulder shrugged and gave her a grin. "Hey, I'm just
following the lead of a former Commander in Chief.
President Clinton's the one who set the standards for
oral sex not being the same thing as having sex. If
 it worked for him, I figure us rank-and-file
government employees can use the same argument."

Scully smiled, rolled her eyes and shook her head just
fractionally. "Get in the car, Mulder. Let's go home."


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