From: mimic117@yahoo.com Date: Thu, 8 Apr 2004 20:34:26 -0400 Subject: Wishing I Could Tell You Source: revision Title: Wishing I Could Tell You Author: mimic117 Email: mimic117@yahoo.com Rating: NC-17 no doubt, no fooling, no children Category: S,R, mild A, willing suspension of disbelief Spoilers: None that I know of for the show, but this is part of a series I call the Wishing Universe. You might want to read the other ones. In fact I'd like it if you did, but this one can stand alone if you don't want to. You just have to accept that they're in an established relationship. If you can, then have at it. Summary: What do you do when the words can't be spoken? What if you might never say them again? Archive: Would you? Really? I'd be so grateful. But I'll handle Gossamer and Ephemeral myself, thanks. Keywords: MSR, Season 6-ish timeline Disclaimer: I didn't see anything! I don't know what you're talking about! I'm innocent, I swear! Oops, wrong disclaimer. They're not mine, I'm sorry to say. If they ever go up for auction, let me know so I can bid. Legally they belong to a bunch of other people, but morally, anyone who can't take better care of their toys shouldn't be allowed to have them. Author's Notes: I really hadn't intended to keep the series going this long. All your lovely feedback gave me the courage to continue. So it's all your fault. Yeah, you know who you are. Birthday dedication: This story was finished specifically for Audu's birthday because she kicked and screamed and whined that she wanted one. I have children -- I'm used to that kind of behavior. It was the "pretty pwease" that got me. What can I say? I'm easy. Thanks: To Cindy for her usual ruthless beta-whipping. She does such an incredible job of keeping my nose to the grindstone and I always appreciate it once I stop weeping. I hate to think what my writing would look like without your help. This SexPig!Mulder is for you, Twinsy. Enjoy! Feedback: Is printed out, fawned over and stroked to tatters at mimic117@yahoo.com. Visit all my fics at the little house that XochiLuvr built. www.mimicsmusings.com Your depravity levels may vary. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Wishing I Could Tell You by mimic117 Georgetown Memorial Hospital Tuesday 4:42 PM *pain* *terrible pain* *pain* "I want that sedative in here stat! I don't care if it's not time! Give it to me and I'll do it myself!" *pain* *no more pain* ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Thursday 8:35 AM "Hey, Rip Van Winkle. You ready to wake up now?" Mulder decided Scully's amused tone was a good sign. It meant he wasn't disfigured, dying, or missing any limbs. He cranked one eyelid open as far as he could, which ended up being less than half way, then gravity took over and it slammed shut again. "Good try, partner. Now let's see if you can get both of them open at once. Time to quit lollygagging around in bed all day." That remark deserved a strong reaction. He was planning to tell her off just as soon as he got his eyes open, but at the rate he was going, that wouldn't be for several hours. He strained to crack his eyelids again and was rewarded with Scully's fat-cheeked, grinning face hanging in his line of sight. "There you are," she said. When he parted his lips to reply, she placed her fingers over them. "Don't try to talk. You've damaged your vocal cords. Open your mouth and I'll give you something to make your throat feel better." Mulder stared at her. He'd just managed to get his eyes open, and now he was supposed to find the energy to open his mouth, too? He did it anyway. She sprayed something into the back of his mouth, and the pain he'd just begun to notice receded. It really seemed to help -- until he swallowed. *pain* The cry of agony that tried to leave his throat came out as an open-mouthed wheeze. Scully sprayed the back of his mouth several more times while she had the chance. He tried not to swallow, but it was either that or choke on it. This time, it hardly hurt at all. The absence of pain went a long way toward waking him up. "You're going to need this anesthetic spray for several days," she said, placing the bottle on his bedside table. "I know your throat hurts, but there's not much else they can do for it. You were sedated for over twenty-four hours because of the pain, so the worst is over, even if it doesn't feel that way right now." Wrapping one hand gingerly around his neck, he raised his brows in question. Before she could answer, a man in a white coat, carrying a chart, walked in and moved to stand on the other side of the bed. "Dr. Scully." So, she'd already established her credentials and standing. "Agent Mulder." And his. "It's nice to see you awake at last, although I must admit you've been one of the most cooperative patients we've ever had. Being drugged to the gills might have something to do with it, I suppose. I'm Dr. Halbert, ear, nose, and throat specialist here. I'd like to take a look at you, now that I don't need someone else to pry your mouth open for me." Mulder decided he liked this doctor. No "how are we today" or smarmy platitudes. The man had a sense of humor, which meant he wouldn't be offended when Mulder was well enough for his own to kick back in. Dr. Halbert pulled some metal implements out of his coat pockets. "This won't take long, but it may not be pleasant," he cautioned. "Nothing wrong with the ears or nose -- it's the throat I'm concerned about. You took quite a chemical hit, but thankfully it didn't reach your lungs. You must have gotten a mouthful, then coughed it back out before it went too far. Still, your throat's going to hurt for a while, and I'm not going to make it feel better by poking around in there. You want to brace yourself first?" Mulder closed his hand into a loose fist and pretended to knock back a glass of liquid. The doctor laughed. "No, I'm afraid we can't numb the pain with whisky," he apologized, "but as soon as I'm done, you can have a hit of throat spray. It's not the same thing, but it'll have to do. Now, I'm going to need you to stick out your tongue as far as you can, which won't be all that far, because it's going to hurt. Then I'll gag you with a tasteless tongue depressor and take a gander down your throat with this little doodad." He held up a standard dental mirror to which a small light was attached. It wasn't very large as such things go, but to Mulder, it appeared as big as a submarine. He pointed from the mirror to his mouth and raised his eyebrows almost to his hairline. "Afraid so," Dr. Halbert replied. "But I'll be as quick as I can. Ready?" Taking a deep breath, Mulder nodded and opened his mouth. As he watched the flat wooden stick advance toward his extended tongue, he felt Scully's hand creep under his. He clutched it for comfort, hoping he would be able to control the strength of his grip if things got hairy. Halbert kept up a litany of soothing coos to Mulder's pained squeaks as he swiveled the mirror around. Mulder did his best not to retch from the sensation of something at the back of his throat, but he was very much afraid he was going to lose the battle and suffer the humiliation of puking on himself. He was saved that embarrassment when the doctor removed the mirror and stepped back. Scully picked up the anesthetic spray and squirted Mulder's throat several times before reaching up to wipe the tears from his face. He nuzzled his cheek into her hand in thanks. "I know that hurt," Dr. Halbert said, patting Mulder's leg, "but you did just fine. It's still pretty inflamed, as I'm sure you've discovered from trying to swallow. But it actually seems a great deal better than yesterday. I'd like to keep you here for one more day, just to make sure there's no actual infection. Then, if it isn't any worse, I'll let you go home tomorrow. How does that sound?" Mulder took a careful breath and gave him a thumbs-up. He looked at Scully to see if she had any more questions for the doctor, only to find her staring at the doorway. Walter Skinner was standing at the threshold. Scully invited him in and made the introductions. "How's he coming along, doctor?" Skinner asked. Halbert smiled. "I was just telling Agent Mulder that he'll be going home tomorrow if he's no worse, although he won't be back to work for a few days. He's doing pretty well, considering the state he was in when he arrived here." Skinner turned to his two subordinates. "I'm sorry I was out of town, agents. The SAC has already phoned in his report. Now I'd like to hear a preliminary one from you." Mulder waited for Halbert to excuse himself, but the doctor remained standing next to the bed, apparently uninterested in leaving at the moment. And Skinner had asked for their report, so the AD must not be too concerned about an audience, either. Mulder locked gazes with his partner for a moment, to let her know that she could speak for him. "We had Conroy dead to rights, sir. Everything indicated that the main chemical lab would be at that location. The SAC agreed with us and set up a raid for Tuesday. We took a small team, with back-up on stand-by, and Mulder went in with the first wave to clear the scene. Conroy must have found out about the raid somehow because the next thing we knew, there was a small explosion. Then Mulder yelled 'GAS!' and came staggering out of the building. A couple of the other agents dragged him away from the door, but he'd already gotten a mouthful of gas, which caused his throat and vocal chords to become badly blistered. The lab identified the gas as a pepper-spray derivative --" "Pepper spray?" The incredulity in Skinner's voice was hard to miss. Mulder was surprised, too. He'd never heard of pepper spray being more than an irritant. It didn't seem possible that it could have caused the damage he felt in his throat. "It's not ordinary pepper spray, sir," Scully answered. "Conroy must have devised this one himself. It seems to have been made from the extract of several different kinds of peppers, but the highest concentration was red savina." "And this is significant how?" Good question. Mulder wanted to hear the answer, too. "Think of it this way. The heat of a pepper is measured in Scoville units. The green peppers you buy in the grocery store to put on your salad have zero Scoville units. In other words, they have no heat. Jalapeno peppers can have up to 5,000 Scovilles of heat. That sounds like a lot, until you discover that the hot peppers used in salsa range from 15,000 to 30,000 Scovilles. The red savina that Conroy used in his concoction is thirty times hotter than that -- 500,000 Scoville units, to be exact. We're not talking about your standard, law-enforcement- issue pepper spray, sir." Skinner appeared to consider her information for a moment. "Is that what caused the blisters on his skin?" Mulder's head jerked up in surprise. He raised one hand to his face and winced as the salt from his fingers came in contact with a raw patch on his jaw. Scully reached over and lowered his hand before he could explore further. "Yes, sir," she replied. "The gas probably came in contact with his face when he inhaled as he shouted the warning. His face is healing well, but it's still going to be a few days before the redness disappears. It's similar to a second-degree sunburn, with some minor damage to the rete mucosum. The injury to his throat, however, is much worse." This was not welcome news as far as Mulder was concerned. If his throat looked anything like his face felt, it was going to be a difficult recovery. What if his voice didn't come back? What if there was permanent damage and he never got full use of it again? Sure, Halbert and Scully seemed pleased with his healing, but they couldn't be totally sure how bad it was at this point. His career could be over after today. How would he tell Scully all the things he had to say with only half a voice -- or worse, none at all? He took a deep, steadying breath. The heart monitor was going to give him away if he couldn't get his emotions under control. This wasn't the right time or place to think about his future. There was nothing he could do to change anything, and worrying wouldn't help. He'd just have to use Scarlett O'Hara as his role model and "think about it tomorrow." Hopefully, his voice would return before it became an issue. His attention was drawn back to the conversation by Skinner's next question. "Is that all you have to report, Agent Scully?" "Yes, sir. Only the room Mulder checked was booby-trapped. We didn't find anything else once the house was cleared for searching. I stayed with Mulder until the ambulance arrived, so I didn't participate much in the actual search." Nodding his thanks, Skinner asked Mulder, "Do you have anything to add?" Mulder thought for a moment. He walked his fingers down the sheets, then picked both hands up in the classic firing position, using one hand as the gun. Swinging his arms right to left and back again, he scanned the room before his eyes widened in fear. Dropping the finger-pistol, he clutched his throat with both hands, tongue lolling out, before closing his eyes and thumping back onto his pillow in a mock faint. His eyes popped open at the sound of Dr. Halbert's enthusiastic applause. "I'm going to submit your name to the Oscars committee," he said. "You could give Kenneth Branagh a run for his money." Halbert tucked the chart back under his arm. "I'll leave you in the capable hands of the nursing staff for now, but if you need anything, have them call me. Assistant Director, it was nice to meet you. Agent Mulder, I'll be back to torture you again tomorrow morning, so get some rest while you can. Good day, Dr. Scully." That seemed to be the signal for Skinner to leave as well. He wished them as good a weekend as possible, and left. Silence reigned for several minutes while Scully drew a chair up to the bed and got settled beside her partner. "I guess it's going to be pretty quiet around here for a while," she said. "Skinner nearly cracked his stone facade at the thought that you won't be talking back to him for a few weeks. Want me to sing so you can go to sleep?" Mulder rolled his eyes and shuddered. "Well it's not going to be easy holding a conversation right now," she complained. "I could always get you a pad of paper so you can write notes to me, but I'd hate for some of your thoughts to be seen by innocent eyes." He held one of his hands up in the classic 'stop' position. Using just the index fingers of both hands, he held them in front of his chin, then moved his fingers forward and back, alternating the right and left. Scully shook her head, a puzzled expression on her face. "Do your hands hurt?" He shot her an exasperated look and held up his right pinkie. Then he made a half circle with all his fingers, followed by a closed fist with his thumb straight up. He could tell when she got it. I C-A-N S-I-G-N C-A-N Y-O-U R-E-A-D "I didn't know you could sign," she exclaimed. "When did you learn?" SCHOOL FRIEND DEAF "And you still remember how?" COLLEGE CLASSES RUSTY "Me, too. I think every girl in my eighth grade class learned it so we could talk about boys behind their backs. Do you know how handy that would have been all these years? We could have talked to each other at crime scenes, even when we weren't standing together." His hands slowly began a ballet of words while Scully interpreted. "I could send you... ground?... dirt? Mulder, that doesn't make any sense." He leered and tried again. "OH! Dirty! Dirty messages." He tapped the end of his nose, signaling that she was correct. "With your luck, somebody else at the crime scene would understand sign language, too. The next thing you know, you'd be in Skinner's office, waiting for him to heat the boiling oil and flaming pincers." OUCH "Ouch is right," she replied. "So if you're smart, you'll keep your mouth shut and your hands to yourself until you can talk again." Mulder drew an imaginary zipper across his lips, stuffed his hands under his butt, then batted wide, innocent eyes at her. "One day, Mulder. That's exactly how long you'll be back at work before you make a rude gesture at the wrong person. Just one day." He had to give her credit. She knew him well enough to understand how difficult this was going to be for him. And even then she was being optimistic. He probably wouldn't make it more than a couple of hours before he flipped someone off. It was going to be a rough few weeks. For both of them. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 11:45 AM The nurse put the blood pressure cuff back in her pocket and slung the stethoscope around her neck. She checked the IV drip rate and made sure the heart monitor clip was still squashing Mulder's finger before making new notations in his chart. The Foley catheter had been removed after he first woke up, and he'd already eaten a liquid lunch. Not very filling, but at least it didn't hurt his throat the way solid food would. It was probably driving food services crazy that they couldn't torment him with green Jell-O and oatmeal. Now, his liquid lunch was having its standard effect. "Is there anything else you need, Agent Mulder?" the nurse asked. There was. The two women watched as his hands danced in the air, but Scully couldn't seem to catch what he meant. "Rain... sprinkle... water... Mulder, I have no idea what you're saying." He huffed, then clamped both hands over his crotch and jiggled up and down in the bed. The nurse burst out laughing. "I've got a 2-year-old in potty training. I recognize that one." Mulder threw an accusing glare at Scully. "Sorry." She shrugged. "'Take a leak' didn't translate well. Mulder, you've been flat on your back for two days. You can't just get up and wander off to the bathroom. One of us is going to need to help you so you don't fall." He pointed to the nurse. Scully's lips thinned into a straight line, but she agreed. The nurse moved up to the bedside as he swung his legs out from under the sheet. "Come on, Agent Mulder," she said. "Let's get you to the bathroom before you do the same thing my son does when he waits too long." As he shuffled along with the nurse pulling his IV pole, his gown fell open in the back. "Nice view there, G-man," Scully called. Pulling his gown together with one hand, he flipped her off with the other. She snorted. "I guess some signs don't need translating." The nurse allowed him to enter the bathroom alone, with the stipulation that the door not be closed all the way. He wasn't inside very long. He washed his hands, then commenced his shuffle back to the bed. This time he made sure to keep one hand on his gown. He would have killed for a pair of sweatpants. He let Scully help him back onto the bed while the nurse got the IV pole positioned again. The nurse told Mulder to push the call button if he needed anything else before supper, then left. He sank back onto his pillows. "Just about done in, aren't you?" The affection in Scully's voice was a relief. He flicked his hands in inquiry. YOU MAD "Don't be such an incredible ass. Of course I'm not mad at you." He twisted on the bed to peer down at his backside. She smacked his arm. "No, I didn't say you *had* an incredible ass, I said not to be one. I know you're feeling vulnerable, and you don't like me seeing you that way. I can stand to let someone else help you for once, because when we get home, you're all mine." Mulder pulled the blankets up under his chin and shook in mock terror. "Oh yeah," Scully purred. "Your ass is soooo mine." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Week 1 Georgetown Memorial Friday 10:15 AM Mulder was clearly ready to go home. He had an appointment for a check-up in a week and instructions on what kind of food he could eat. The IV had been dispensed with first thing in the morning, allowing him to move freely around the room. All they were waiting for was to sign the doctor's release form. Being wise in the ways of Mulder, Scully refused to give him the clothes she'd brought until they were sure he was being released. She'd shoved him into the shower just to give him something to do while she checked on the hold-up. She finally managed to track down and sign the paperwork, then returned to Mulder's room to find that he'd raided her hidden clothing stash -- he was gleefully pulling jeans on over his naked hips. "I put underwear in that bag, you know," she chided. He flapped a hand in dismissal. OUR SECRET "That could be enough to give me a sudden, uncontrollable urge to jump your bones." His brows waggled ecstatically until they disappeared inside a T-shirt as he pulled it over his head. "You'd better hope you're never in an accident while wearing jeans, Mulder. The ER nurses would be in for a hell of a shock." SEEN WORSE "Or better, depending on who they know." His crest-fallen expression transformed into utter disgust when an orderly appeared with a wheelchair. "You've done this enough to know the drill," Scully reminded him. "At least if you try to argue this time, I can shut my eyes and ignore you." Mulder "humph"ed through his nose as he shoved his feet into a pair of sneakers. He lowered himself into the wheelchair and, snubbing his partner, stabbed a finger at the doorway as if shouting "Tally-ho!" Scully gathered up all the bits and pieces that were being sent home with him, then followed Mulder and the orderly out the door. When they arrived at the parking lot, she retrieved the car, pulled it up to the patient drop-off area and stayed in the driver's seat. It would make him more irritable, but she knew the hospital would never allow him to drive himself home. She might as well save him a fruitless argument with the discharge nurse. The ride to her apartment was quiet since she needed to watch the road and he couldn't say anything. It wasn't a comfortable silence, either. She was used to him chattering like a squirrel, so the lack of noise was unnerving. It had taken some persuading before he'd agreed to stay with her until he regained his voice again. The deciding argument was his inability to use a phone. He wouldn't be able to call out for food, let alone call for help. It made Scully nervous to think how often help was needed. Still, she was thankful for small victories. She had a feeling the next couple of weeks would test her patience and their relationship. She hoped it would be possible to have a non- verbal Mulder underfoot twenty-four hours a day without losing either. Only time would tell, because Mulder certainly wouldn't have anything to say about it for a while. At least, not out loud. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Scully's apartment Saturday 1:36 PM Mulder swished the sudsy bath water around and tested the temperature. It had to be just right. He didn't want to risk damaging Scully's beautiful, delicate skin. His plan was to surprise her with a relaxing bath, not boil her like a lobster. His silence was going to take some getting used to. Lunch had been quiet by necessity. He couldn't very well eat and talk with his hands at the same time. He'd managed to get his requests across by pointing, but almost anything else was beyond him at the moment. They would eventually adapt their standard forms of communication, but he foresaw a lot of frustration until then -- at least on his part. He really didn't have any idea how Scully was coping with his lack of speech. Hopefully, if she was having a problem with it, she'd tell him. Mulder shut the water off and stood to dry his hands before checking to make sure that he had Scully's fluffiest towels ready. He could see the toll his injury had taken on her. Over the last few days, she'd spent more time at the hospital than she had in her own home. She was always there to help him communicate with other people and she'd made sure that he wasn't subjected to unnecessary discomfort. She had obviously been worried about him, but did her best to keep his spirits up. Now it was time for him to repay her devotion with a little pampering. He walked out to the living room and found her sitting on the couch, reading. Actually, more like slumped on the couch. And not exactly reading -- the magazine was sort of perched on her lap, in danger of sliding to the floor at any moment. Exhaustion was evident in every line of her body. Mulder mentally chided himself. It was past time that he took care of her. He whistled softly. When she raised her head, he crooked two fingers and beckoned her. "What is it, Mulder?" Even her voice sounded worn out. He waved down the hallway with a sweep of his arm. She blinked at him, but didn't move. "Can't it wait?" He shook his head, gesturing more emphatically down the hall. She slowly levered herself off the couch, not even trying to catch the magazine as it was dumped to the floor. It pained Mulder to watch as she tiredly shambled toward him. He salved his conscience with the knowledge that he was doing something that would make her feel better. When she was within reach, he took her arm and gently guided her into the bathroom, then presented his gift with a "ta da" motion of his hands. He saw tears gleaming in her eyes. OKAY She sniffed. "Yeah. It's more than okay. Thank you, Mulder." When she started to unbutton her blouse, he shooed her fingers away and signed, LET ME After she dropped her hands, he slipped each button out of its hole. Then he moved behind her and slid the fabric off her body, tenderly kissing each shoulder as it was uncovered. Next, he unhooked her bra and pushed it down her arms until it dropped to the floor. He unzipped her slacks, peeling them down her legs and snagging her panties on his way past. As he bent over to help her step out of the puddled cloth, he was hit by the hot, musky aroma of her sex. He took a deep breath and felt his groin tighten. Not now, he admonished his one-track mind. Pounding her unconscious on the bathroom floor wasn't going to help her relax and unwind. He could satisfy his own urges later, if she was up to it. But if not, that was okay, too. He was the one who'd spent several days in the hospital, resting and getting the best medical care. It would be beyond selfish for him to take what he needed without even considering how tired Scully must be. Having successfully tamped down his instinctive reaction, Mulder held her hand to steady her as she stepped into the tub. He'd judged the water-to-bubbles ratio pretty well -- she wasn't completely submerged and he could still see her head over the foam. She let out a heartfelt sigh as she sank down into the warm water. He let her scoot around and get comfortable while he put her clothes in the hamper and got her pajamas ready. Then he returned to the bathroom to see how she was doing. Her eyes were closed, but her hands were slowly sweeping the water back and forth, so she wasn't asleep. "Talk to me," she said. He chuffed and her eyes opened. "You know what I mean. Blind people say they 'saw' a friend in the store. Why can't someone who's speechless 'talk' to me?" She was right. He nodded and looked around for somewhere to sit. Other than perching on the sink, which wasn't a good idea, the closed toilet was his only option. Not a very suave way to hold a conversation. He lowered himself to the floor and folded his legs Indian-style. YANKEES She flicked water droplets at him with her fingers. "No, we're not going to talk about baseball, Mulder." He scowled at her. "Let's talk about how you're doing instead." ME "Well, you're the one who was gassed and lost his voice. How are you handling it so far?" She never ceased to amaze him. Here she was, dead tired after days of stress brought on by his injury, waiting on him and caring for him, and she's asking how *he's* holding up. How was he handling it? He hadn't really thought about it since he woke up in the hospital. He'd locked his fears into a shadowy corner of his mind and tried very hard not to think about them again. Now Scully was asking him to open the lock. He didn't want to. He preferred to pretend that the loss of his voice was no biggie. He could even tell her that, and she might let him get away with it. But he owed her his honesty at the very least. Apparently it was "tomorrow" already. He took a deep breath and prepared to peek in that corner. SCARED She frowned. "Why are you scared?" His eyes opened wide in disbelief. NO VOICE "Dr. Halbert explained that. Your vocal chords have been damaged. Your voice should come back once they heal." MAYBE "Well, yes, there's never a guarantee of complete recovery with any kind of injury. But Halbert seems pretty confident. How long has this been bothering you?" Mulder shrugged. He couldn't look her in the eye. He'd let loose his nebulous concerns and doubts, now. He couldn't go back to not thinking about them, no matter how much he wanted to. Jokes and pretense would only work for so long. There was just too much at stake. Splashing sounds drew his attention back to the tub. She reached toward his jaw and tentatively placed her hand on the side of his neck. His face was still covered in healing patches of skin. There really wasn't any place safe to touch yet. "I'm so sorry that I didn't know how you felt, Mulder." He waved off her apology. HIDING "I'm sure you were. But I should have guessed that you'd be upset. It's a natural reaction to major loss. I was so focused on helping your body get better that I forgot about your mind. You never stop seeing all the possibilities, do you?" He shook his head. NO HELLO NO GOODBYE NO TALK TO YOU FOREVER Her fingers caressed his neck. "I know. I would miss talking *with* you if your voice didn't come back. I'd miss how you say 'Sculleee...' when you're trying to wheedle me into accepting one of your theories. I'd miss the excitement in your voice over a new case. I'd miss your groans and moans when we make love -- especially the way you call my name. But your voice isn't the only thing I love about you. Even if I never get to hear you speak again, I still have my memories. And I still have you. That's all I need." The love and sympathy in her voice brought tears to his eyes. He blinked rapidly to clear them. He should have known she'd understand. Her words went a long way toward calming some of his fears. He still couldn't help worrying, but at least he didn't have to keep it to himself anymore. Perhaps Scully and Halbert were right. His voice probably *would* come back without any problems, but he had several weeks to wait before he'd know for sure. There was nothing to be gained from stewing about it the whole time. He still needed to take care of his partner, whose eyelids were drooping, even as she tried to give him comfort. Mulder kissed the inside of her arm. He rose up on his knees and opened the drain, letting the water gurgle out. NAP "Now?" Scully peered around the bathroom in sleepy confusion, then stood. "Maybe you're right. I can't imagine why I'm so tired." Typical Scully. She was so good at taking care of him, but lousy at caring for herself. He wrapped her in a bath towel and steered her toward the bedroom. The bath had worked exactly as he'd intended -- she was as limp as a rag doll. Relaxation accomplished, sir. She stopped next to the bed and waited while he pulled the covers down. He removed the towel and helped her to slide under the sheet. Her eyes were closing before her head was on the pillow. His groin tightened again when his gaze raked her naked body. Desire burned low in his belly and made his chest ache. But not now. He could wait. "Just for a few minutes, Mulder. Wake me. Okay?" Yeah. Right. He was going to let her sleep until she woke up on her own. She obviously needed it, even if she wouldn't admit it. Her eyes blinked open once, then closed for good. Her breathing was already evening out as he pulled the covers over her. LATER he signed. Later, he would tell her, as well as he could, how much she meant to him. Later, he would show her how much he adored her. Later, he would make sweet love to her and let his body tell her everything he couldn't say with words. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 4:40PM Warm fingers of late afternoon sunshine on her face tickled Scully awake. She could hear Mulder moving around in the bedroom, quietly opening and closing drawers. She cracked open her eyelids without moving, the better to watch him unaware. He was placing folded clothing into her dresser. He'd done laundry for her. He'd taken a shower, too. His hair was still spiky-damp, and he was now shirtless as well as barefoot. He moved from the clothing piles to the drawers with an effortless, unhurried grace. The slanting rays of the sun played hide-and- seek with the movement of his arms, first highlighting the bronzed creases of his biceps, then casting them into shadowy relief. His skin shone tawny gold wherever the light kissed his body, making her mouth water in anticipation of kissing those places, too. As she watched the muscles in Mulder's chest and stomach ripple and curve, she was reminded of a nature documentary she'd once seen about lions. It had shown a beautiful, golden male moving in just the same way -- leisurely, sensuously, as though preparing for a hard day of doing nothing at all. Suddenly, he stopped. She'd probably made a noise that let him know she was awake. When he resumed his chore, she noticed a definite wiggle to his ass each time he bent and straightened. When the last piece of clothing was safely stowed, he stood with his back toward her. Then his hips twitched. Then they twitched the other way. And back. And forth. And back and forth. He was doing an impromptu hula! He spun around, bent his arms up over his head, and started a classic bump-and- grind as he moved toward the bed. Scully was enjoying herself more than she had in at least a week. She clapped and hooted as Mulder shimmied closer, flinging his arms in wild abandon, eyes squeezed shut and body gyrating fit to rival Elvis. "Shake it but don't break it, G-String Man!" He'd finally reached the foot of the bed, which appeared to be his cue for the big finale. The back-and-forth gyrations became full-circle swings as he stood with his feet wide apart and rotated his hips. She could almost hear the drum beats that would follow his movements in a strip club, right up until the final, suggestive thrust. Bam! End of show. He bowed as she applauded and cheered, then he collapsed onto the bed. After a minute, he crawled up the mattress and lay down next to her. His hands rose to say something, but he suddenly stopped and sniffed. He held up a finger, then hopped off the bed and hurried out of the room. Scully sniffed as well. Apparently Mulder was making dinner, in addition to doing laundry. He returned and climbed back onto the bed. GOOD NAP "Yes, thank you. I guess I really needed the sleep. Is that supper I smell burning?" He stuck out his tongue. NO BURN TURNED OFF "Gee, you can do laundry, dance like a Chippendale AND cook. How did I get so lucky?" GOOD LIFE YOU HUNGRY "A little. Let's see what's on the menu." She pushed on his shoulder until he rolled onto his back. "I think I'll skip the main course, though, and go straight to the dessert." Reaching toward his waist, she popped the top fly button. Keeping her eyes glued to his abdomen, she watched the muscles twitch as each button slipped out of its corresponding hole. When she reached the last one, she teased the edges of his jeans open and ran her nails through the crisp curls underneath. "My my. What's this?" She snaked her fingers down into the denim and emerged with his stiffening penis. "You really know how to whip up something special, Mulder." His whole body went rigid as she wrapped her lips around him and took him in. He tasted salty, tangy, slightly bitter. He felt hot and sleek, velvety at the tip, bumpy along the shaft but smoothing out as he expanded and lengthened under her tongue. She always enjoyed a feeling of power when she had him in her mouth. She controlled his ability to experience exquisite pleasure or unbearable privation -- completely at her own whim. She would never deny him the release that he craved, but sometimes she liked to pretend that she would, just to see the pleading look in his eyes. Tonight, she didn't want to deny either of them. They'd been apart for almost a week. She needed him every bit as much as he needed her. She let go of him with a soft popping noise and sat up in the bed. His eyes were blazing with lust. He had a death grip on the blankets and his breath came in short gasps. Scully had a fleeting thought that all the hard breathing might damage his throat further. Then he grabbed her around the waist, lifted her free of the covers, and she forgot to worry. They rolled around a bit until they found a mutually satisfactory position on their sides. Mulder wiggled his jeans down his hips, then Scully grabbed them with her toes and pushed them the rest of the way off. He lifted one of her legs high over his hip and nudged her opening. She adjusted, tilting her pelvis until he slid inside of her. He pushed and impaled her on his hard length. She moaned as he stretched her, filling the one place that had been empty for too many days. She loved how their bodies fit together so perfectly, as if they'd been cast in one mold and then gently pried apart -- only becoming whole when fitted against one another like this. Her body curled against him as each of his upward strokes lifted her, abrading her nipples with his chest hair in a very stimulating manner. She groaned as his pelvic bone impacted her swollen bundle of nerves on every up-thrust. She was going to explode in sparks very soon, but she had no idea if Mulder was close as well. Usually, she could tell by the pitch of his groans, the volume of his cries. When his language became vulgar, she knew that his climax was imminent. But she didn't have those cues this time. She would have to learn a new way of maintaining her intimate mental link with him. She pulled back just enough to see his eyes. They were closed. Beads of sweat dotted his upper lip. He was concentrating so hard, his forehead was lined with creases. He didn't appear to be enjoying himself very much, in spite of the continued thrusting of his hips. Maybe she wasn't the only one thrown off balance by his lack of vocalization. She should have thought of this before. "Look at me, Mulder," she whispered. His eyes flew open and she saw frustration there. "Let your eyes speak to me. Let me see the words you want to say." His forehead smoothed out as if by magic. She gazed deep within his eyes and saw the panic change to lust, then love, adoration, gratitude. Yes, it was all there. The sounds of his passion, her name, his joy -- and finally, his orgasm. Mulder's body went rigid. He held her gaze with his, pulling her after him, sharing his release with her in a way she'd never experienced with him before. Her own climax hit without warning, jolting her spine and tightening her belly with a vice- like grip that radiated throughout her body. She kept her eyes locked with his, letting him see the ecstasy only he could give her. It seemed as though they shook together for a long time, but it was probably only seconds before they both went limp. He gathered her back against his chest, stirring her hair with his panting breaths. They stayed that way until the cooler air in the room raised goosebumps on her sweat-dampened skin. She didn't really want to move, but her stomach had decided that it needed refueling after such vigorous activity. It rumbled, rather loudly. She waited for a reaction from Mulder, knowing that he wouldn't be able to resist. None came. When she pulled back to find out why, she saw that he was asleep. "I'd say you overdid it, partner," she murmured. He *was* just out of the hospital, and bed-breaking sex probably wasn't on the list of doctor-approved activities for today. Still, Halbert hadn't said not to, so she wasn't going to feel guilty. Mulder had just tried to do too much in one day. As usual. He'd be fine after a short nap and some supper. That reminded her -- supper was already done and waiting, but she didn't have the heart to wake him. He probably wouldn't sleep long, and in the meantime, she would keep their meal warm. Her stomach could wait. She hoped. Scully carefully untangled herself from Mulder's limbs and got out of bed. He rolled onto his stomach and burrowed into the warm spot she'd left behind. She padded to the bathroom and cleaned up, then returned for some clothes. Glancing back before leaving the bedroom, she smiled at the sight of his long, naked body sprawled over her bed. Just the way she liked her man -- totally nude and sated. She headed for the kitchen. Time to make sure there was enough food on hand. With Mulder in the house for the next few weeks, she suspected they were both going to need plenty of energy. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Victoria's Secret Tuesday 7:03 PM "Mulder, put that down. I am not buying a bustier." He whistled and sculpted a curvy silhouette in the air, garment flapping from one hand. "Especially not a peach one with black lace trim. All I need is a few pairs of panties. You're not making this quick purchase any quicker, you know." He waited while she went back to sorting through the rack of clothes, pointedly ignoring him. When she turned, he was holding out a tiger-print thong. Snatching the hanger from his hand, she put it back on the display. He gave her a sad, hurt look. "Remind me never to take you shopping for underwear again, Mulder. And you can quit pouting. I wouldn't let you talk me into it even if you could talk." He poked out his bottom lip, but was finding it hard to maintain an injured expression. He'd always enjoyed teasing Scully. Now that he couldn't talk, he was forced to be more inventive. He liked the challenge. Gathering up her selections, Scully walked to the cash register, leaving Mulder behind to play in the under things. After the way they'd been treated in the last couple of stores, he was keeping one eye on the clerk. He'd already been politely ignored once and rushed through the check-out at the second store. This particular cashier was staring at him as if she was watching something fascinating, yet somewhat revolting at the same time. When Scully thumped her purchases down on the counter, the girl jumped. Mulder wondered if Scully was aware of the discomfort some people seemed to feel around him. It would be hard for her to ignore it for much longer if he continued to hang around here. Maybe they'd both be better off if he waited it out on a semi-comfortable bench. As much as he appreciated the chance to do non-work-related activities with Scully, sitting and observing the chaos of the mall appealed to him more at the moment. He didn't know anyone here, so nobody expected him to strike up a conversation. He was able to watch and listen to everyone around him, yet no one else could tell that he couldn't speak. Until he signed something to Scully. As a psychologist, it was interesting to watch peoples' reactions to his gyrating hands. They ran the gamut from indifferent to interested, patronizing to uncomfortable. He and Scully had been out enough over the past two days for him to figure out that he was either going to have to sit on his hands or put up with adverse reactions. It was fascinating, all right -- when it was happening to someone else. Mulder slouched against the back of the bench and scanned the stores within his view of the mall. This was much better than the going-from-one-store-to-the-next-without-actually- buying-anything that they'd been doing for the last hour. Thank goodness she'd finally made up her mind. Get in, get what you came for, get out -- that was the "guy" method of shopping. None of this fingering everything in the store and then deciding that the place you were in thirty minutes ago had better prices and selections. Who cared? It was the success of the hunt that counted. Aimlessly wandering from store to store without making a purchase did not lead to success. He was actually anxious to go back to work tomorrow. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy being there at the end of Scully's workday with a hot meal and a sizzling kiss. He rather liked this domestic stuff. The gratitude on her face the last two days, when she'd gotten home and found supper all ready for her, was worth the effort to make something rather than call for take-out. Of course, he *couldn't* call for food at the moment. He couldn't call out, couldn't answer the phone, couldn't speak to the grocery store clerk, couldn't say hello to her neighbors -- *that* was why he was glad to be going back to work. At first, with Scully there, his involuntary muteness had been bearable. But now that he'd been alone while she was at work, he realized how wise she was to insist he stay at her place. He was more vulnerable right now than he'd ever been in his life. With the help of the Gunmen, they'd set up a menu of prerecorded messages he could play into the phone if there was an emergency situation. At least help would be on the way if something happened. But not being able to answer the phone had finally gotten to him after the fifth time it rang on Monday. In spite of the fact that he knew he wouldn't be able to talk, he'd jumped up every single time, then had to stop himself before he grabbed the receiver. Three were automated political campaign ads, one was Scully's mother checking in with her, and the last one had been from a vinyl siding company that was "calling all the homeowners in your area." Guess someone wasn't doing their homework if they thought they could get customers in a block of apartment buildings. Mulder had erased all of the messages except the one from Mrs. Scully, but the experience left him feeling cut off and helpless. Mulder's mood perked up when he caught sight of a familiar figure briskly walking in his direction. Maybe an occasional encounter with an insensitive clod wasn't too high a price to pay if it meant he could spend some time with the woman he loved, doing normal-person stuff. He stood when she stopped in front of him. READY GO HOME "Are you asking if I'm ready or telling me that you are?" YOU ME TOO "Actually, I was thinking of trying a couple more stores at the other end of the mall." MORE Mulder didn't quite know how to sign emphatically enough to get across his disgust at her suggestion. When she glanced up at him from under her lashes, he realized that she was teasing him. He was all set to blast her with a sarcastic response until a small child barreled into his legs, almost knocking him back onto the bench. He reached out to steady the little girl, but couldn't quite get a good hold on her. It took him a moment to catch onto the fact that her hands were moving in a continuous blur. She was signing to him at hyper speed while hopping up and down at the same time. He couldn't understand a thing she was saying. SLOW DOWN SLOW DOWN TOO FAST He couldn't help chuckling at her enthusiasm even as he tried to stem the rush of words. He saw a name in among the twists and turns of her fingers, but her abilities were well beyond anything he still remembered from college. He was just about to make another attempt to slow her down when a woman rushed up and grabbed the child by the shoulder, turning her so they were facing. She signed and spoke at the same time. "What have I said before, Jessie? You can't just run off like that. It's dangerous." The woman shot Mulder and Scully an apologetic glance and ignored the little girl's tugs on her sleeve. "I'm so sorry that she was bothering you. I don't know what got into her." She finally took notice when Jessie stamped her foot and yanked on her arm. The girl's hands briefly flew through the air, then she beamed at Mulder. Jessie's mother signed as she exclaimed, "She says you talk like her. I'm sorry. I didn't know you were deaf." He looked over at Scully for help, but she flapped her hand in a "be my guest" gesture. Mulder hoped his rusty signing wasn't going to get him in trouble. NOT DEAF CAN HEAR CAN'T TALK "But you use ASL to communicate." NOT WELL RUSTY JESSIE FASTER The woman laughed. "She gets that way when she's excited. Jessie isn't in school yet so she doesn't know many people outside the family who use ASL. I guess she was surprised to see someone she understands." Mulder signed to the happy child, NICE TO MEET YOU JESSIE Her hands flew through the air and her mother said, "She wants to know your name. I'm sorry. She shouldn't be --" A wave of Mulder's hand told her it was okay. He pointed to himself. FOX Jessie's eyes got as big as saucers. NO Mulder grinned. YES He dug his wallet out of his pocket, hoping that he still had one of his Bureau cards inside. Eureka! He pulled it out and handed it to Jessie's mother. Her eyes went wide in surprise. "You can't speak, but you work for the FBI?" HURT ON DUTY NOT PERMANENT The woman handed the card to the little girl and showed her his name. Jessie's mouth dropped open. She stared at the piece of cardboard like it was the eighth wonder of the world. Her mother asked, "You'll be able to talk again, won't you?" DOCTOR SAYS YES She sighed. "I hope so. Being different can be hard sometimes." Her gaze seemed to be directed over Mulder's shoulder, so he glanced back. They'd attracted a small crowd. Several people were standing behind him, blatantly staring. A couple of teenagers were leaning close together, whispering to each other. Didn't these people have anything better to do? Mulder glowered, staring at each person until they dropped their gaze. After the first three, the rest seemed to get the hint. He waited until they'd all moved on elsewhere before he went back to his conversation. Jessie didn't seem to have noticed anything unusual, thankfully. Or maybe she was used to it. That was a sad thought. Jessie's mother signed to her and said, "Time to go now. Say goodbye." The little girl looked so disappointed, Mulder's heart melted. He indicated his desire for a pen. Scully fished one out of her purse and handed it to him. Then he took the business card back and wrote his email address on the reverse. When he gave it to her, Jessie's face lit up as brightly as ever. WE CAN TALK Her mother smiled at him. "You don't know what it means to her to find someone besides family who can speak to her. Thank you for being so patient." Mulder brought his hands up to tell her it wasn't any trouble, but Scully beat him to it. "We were happy to meet Jessie," she said. "Why don't you bring her to the Bureau for a tour sometime? If you email us beforehand, we can meet you in the lobby and visit again." "That's so kind of you," Jessie's mother exclaimed. "I'm sure she'd enjoy that." She thanked them again, then tapped the child's shoulder and indicated that they should leave. Jessie turned to wave before taking her mother's hand and skipping off beside her, the business card safely enclosed in her fist. Mulder hadn't spoken a word, but for some reason, he felt better than he had before. Scully's hand slid through the crook of his arm and curled around his elbow. "I can't take you anywhere, can I?" He smirked. "You ready to go home, G-Man?" she asked. NO MORE STORES "No, I think I've had enough for today. Let's go relax and get ready for your big day tomorrow." In all the excitement with Jessie, he'd forgotten about wanting to go back to work. Suddenly, the loss of his voice wasn't such a big deal. It was a damned nuisance at times, but he could handle that for a while. People lived every day without being able to talk. Maybe it was time for him to stop feeling sorry for himself. His voice would eventually be as good as new, and until then, he had Scully, who understood him whether he spoke or not. He patted her hand where it lay on his arm. It was time to go home. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ O'Halloran's Pub Thursday 5:16 PM The after-work crowd hadn't started to filter in yet and Mulder was glad they had the place mostly to themselves for a change. An occasional Friday Happy Hour with his partner had become a weekly relaxation ritual, which he looked forward to when they were in town. It was one of the very few chances he and Scully had to behave like regular people instead of the FBI's version of the Ghostbusters. Today, though, he was feeling cranky. Only two days back at work and he was in need of Happy Hour a day early. If he heard one more person ask, "Hey Mulder, cat got your tongue?" he would not be held responsible for his actions. Scully was wrong -- he had been back less than a day before he'd shot another agent the bird. There was only so much he could stand when he couldn't tell them off verbally. All his snappy comebacks wouldn't be any use to him after his voice returned -- by then they wouldn't make any sense. He had to do something *now*! Mulder felt a warm hand cover his fingers as he doodled in the condensation on his water glass. "You gonna pout all night?" Scully asked. A pity-party sounded like a good idea, so he poked out his bottom lip. "Rough day, huh?" BUNCH OF ASSHOLES Scully squeezed his hand but didn't say anything. It was just as well. There really wasn't anything she could do about it. Being here with her and knowing that she sympathized was enough to make him feel better. She was really all he needed. He took another sip of his water and checked out the place. The seats at the bar were starting to fill up. A large group of men in expensive suits arrived all at once, knocking elbows with a flannel-and-denim-clad construction crew already at the bar. Mulder spotted Ryan, their waiter, and flagged him down before he could get sucked into the frenzied ordering of the new arrivals. "What'll it be today, Agents?" the young man asked. Scully had already told him what items on the menu would be easiest on his throat, so Mulder indicated that she should order for him. "I'll have my usual, Ryan," she said, "but he'll have a large chicken noodle soup, a side of mashed potatoes, some applesauce, and tea." She handed back the menus. "No greasy burger and fries with cholesterol sauce today, Agent Mulder?" He shook his head and signed, TELL HIM NO THANKS Scully opened her mouth to relay the message but was halted when the waiter gave them both a puzzled look and asked, "What's the matter, Agent Mulder? Cat got your tongue?" Mulder knew that his reasons for leaping out of his seat and strangling Ryan would never hold up in court, but the urge was almost overwhelming. It probably was a funny situation, and he was sure he'd be able to see the humor in five or six years -- but not today. He shot Scully a pleading gaze. "Agent Mulder injured his throat and vocal chords, Ryan. I think the soup will go down with the least pain right now." "Huh." The young man cast a speculative eye over Mulder. "So no talking for a while?" Mulder ruefully shook his head. "That must be a novel experience for you, Agent Scully." If Mulder could have one wish, the poisonous glare he sent the waiter would have incinerated him on the spot. Instead, Scully interceded again. "Maybe you'd better place our order, Ryan. Thanks." He winked. "No 'Silent Agent Man' jokes. Gotcha." He scribbled on his order pad, then walked off toward the kitchen door, whistling the tune to 'Secret Agent Man'. THANKS "Anytime," Scully answered. "Heard a lot of that kind of thing today, did you?" SEVEN OR TEN TIMES "I'm sure it will die down soon." YEAH RIGHT CANNOT WORK LIKE THIS "Sure you can. You've still got email to contact people. You can write notes. I'll interpret when I'm there. You'll find a way, Mulder. You're very resourceful. And it's only for a few weeks. It's just going to seem longer." PHONE "So you can't use the phone. You hardly ever call anyone, unless it's me in the middle of the night. And as long as you can't talk, you're going to live at my place anyway, so who else do you need to call?" She had a point. As long as she was there to help, he knew he'd figure out how to deal with his temporary loss. But it still irked him that other people found it a source of amusement. There was nothing funny about being mute, as far as he could see. Mulder shifted in his seat. His mostly-liquid diet was catching up with him again. At least he could be certain there was nothing wrong with his kidneys. His bladder was getting a real work-out, though. MENS ROOM "As often as you need to go, I'm tempted to suggest a pregnancy test." HA HA HA Even Scully couldn't resist. At least with her, he knew the remarks weren't motivated by malice. He couldn't say the same about anyone else who'd yanked his chain the last couple of days. He got up and hurried toward the restrooms. If this was what pregnant women went through, he was glad he'd never have to experience it. He hadn't yet admitted to Scully that he checked for the restroom location wherever they went before he noticed anything else. It was like a trial run of his approaching "golden years." He felt much better after he'd relieved the pressure. Nothing like a really satisfying leak to make the world seem a little brighter. Fewer liquids in his diet could only be a good thing. He was looking forward to his doctor's appointment tomorrow. Maybe Halbert would ease up and let him have something solid for a change. He just hoped his stomach would still know what to do with real food. Mulder washed his hands, then loosened his tie. He would have preferred to remove it completely, but that would have to wait until he got home. Maybe he could convince Scully to undress him herself. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation and left the restroom feeling happier than when he'd entered. His happiness lasted until he saw the beefy construction worker who was looming over Scully. The man had one hand on the table and the other one on the back of her chair. She was pretty effectively boxed in and didn't appear especially friendly. This guy was in serious danger of getting kicked in the nuts, but he didn't seem aware of it. Mulder had half a mind to let him reap what he was sowing, but the repercussions would probably delay their dinner. Reluctantly, he stepped closer. The construction guy was so intent on hitting her up, he never noticed Mulder's approach. "Honey, I swear I've seen you on TV before. I'd never forget a pretty thing like you." "Are you trying to be deliberately insulting or does it come naturally?" she asked. The look she shot the moron made Mulder cringe, and he wasn't even in her line of sight. "You haven't seen me on television and I'm not interested in your lame attempt to pick me up. And as I've told you three times, I'm with someone." If Mulder could talk, he might have warned the guy to quit while he was ahead. Maybe. Then again, the numskull deserved whatever he had coming to him. If that was his best pick-up line, it was worse than lame. "The deaf stiff in the suit?" The intruder laughed derisively and leaned even closer. "Dump the dummy and come hang out with me. You're too much woman for him." Okay. That did it. This guy was going down, dinner or no dinner. Mulder took a step closer, but stopped when Scully caught his eye and shook her head. She obviously didn't want any physical violence, but this Neanderthal wasn't about to listen to her. Maybe he'd listen to Mulder if he put it in words that a knuckle-dragger could understand. He signed to Scully and inclined his head toward the creep. Scully translated, "I can't talk, you fucking moron, but I can hear you just fine." The construction worker reared back and stared down at her. She gave him an insincere smile. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't say that. He did." She looked at Mulder and the other man's gaze followed hers. Mulder signed again as she interpreted. LEAVE LADY ALONE DIPSHIT NOT INTERESTED The guy sneered at Mulder. "Why not let her decide for herself?" Scully banged her hand down on the table. Mulder could see the imminent bloodshed in her eyes. As a humane man, he really should try to stop it, but as her significant other, he was gleefully anticipating the carnage. "I've already told you more than enough times --" She was startled to a halt when Ryan appeared with their supper. Damn. Saved by the waiter. "Here you go, Agents," he said, putting their plates and fresh drink glasses on the table. "Anything else I can help you with?" He looked from one partner to the other, then slowly swiveled his gaze to their persistent interloper. Ryan had obviously seen the approaching donnybrook, too, and decided to save himself the cleanup. "Um, Agents?" The construction worker seemed more nervous than he had before. "Like, Federal agents?" "Well, yeah." The waiter's forehead crinkled and his eyes took on a puzzled expression. "I thought you knew them, since you've been talking to Agent Scully for such a long time. Are you joining them for dinner? Can I get you anything?" The other man looked at Mulder just as he casually brushed his suit coat back from his holster. The guy's face went completely still. Mulder pointed back and forth between his weapon and Scully. He used his thumb and forefinger to mimic a gun, then mimed it firing with a jerk of his wrist. The slap of Mulder's hand over his heart drove the message home. The construction worker wordlessly retreated to his friends at the bar. He threw some bills on the counter, grabbed his jacket, and walked out the door. Mulder didn't see him answer even one of the questions tossed out by his friends. A couple of agents Mulder recognized at the bar gave him a thumbs-up. Maybe Scully would have had more help taking that guy apart than she realized. "Jerk." Ryan's remark brought Mulder's attention back to his dinner. He saluted the waiter and sat down. Scully clarified as he signed, THANKS FOR BACKUP "No problem, Agent Mulder," Ryan replied. "Can't have my favorite customers being harassed when they're trying to relax." LET HIM GET ASS KICKED "Yeah, that would have been more satisfying, but a lot messier." He was right, but still... "So can I get you two anything else while I'm here?" Scully shook her head. "Thanks, Ryan. We're all set. I appreciate the help, too." "Anytime, Agent Scully. Enjoy your meal in peace." He gathered up the empty glasses and headed back to the bar. "That was a very impressive demonstration, partner," Scully said. "I knew you'd find a way to communicate and I was right." YEAH "Maybe you'd better leave Ryan a big tip this time." WHAT "Oh, I forgot. You usually don't leave a tip -- *I* do. But this time I think you owe him." GOOD BACKUP "Plus he saved you having to help clean up the mess while I explained it to the police." When Scully was right, she was really right. It would be worth a nice tip to know that they had a champion available if needed. You never could tell when he'd come in handy. Mulder peered at his partner's chef salad, then at his own monochromatic meal. He reached across the table; Scully feinted at his marauding fingers with her fork. Snatching a cherry tomato from her plate, he grinned at her as he popped it into his mouth and chomped down. That was when he remembered that tomatoes are acidic. The grin turned to a wince as the stinging juice slid down his still-raw throat. "Poetic justice, Mulder," she observed, not unsympathetically. "Halbert told you to stick to certain foods for a reason." A couple gulps of cool water helped, but he could still feel the acid's bite everywhere that the chemical spray had left blisters. Resigned for the moment, he dipped up a spoonful of applesauce. Doctor Halbert had better come through with the solid food or he'd sic Ryan on him. Mulder felt like he was going to float away if he didn't get off this liquid diet soon. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Week 2 Dr. Halbert's Office Friday 8:45 AM "Okay, Mr. Mulder, the doctor will be in shortly. If you'll just strip down to your under-shorts and put on this gown, I'll let him know you're here." The panic on Mulder's face caught both the nurse and Scully by surprise. WHY Scully answered. "It's just in case the doctor needs to check anything else at the same time. He'll want to listen to your lungs and make sure there's no insipient infection. He might want to palpate your abdomen to check for swollen lymph nodes. You know the routine by now." Mulder glanced down at his jeans, then back at his partner, then down at his jeans again, wiggling his eyebrows with determined intensity. It took her a few seconds to catch on, and then a few more to choke down a mean desire to let him explain it himself. She finally let him off the hook and said, "There may be a problem, nurse. Mulder doesn't 'dress' under his jeans, if you catch my meaning." The nurse's eyebrows rose. She carefully scrutinized her fidgeting patient. "In that case, you'd better leave the jeans on. I don't think Dr. Halbert would appreciate being flashed first thing in the morning. I'll let him know you're ready." Mulder ignored her sour "tsk tsk" frown as he pulled his shirt off over his head. He settled down on the examining table and they waited for Halbert. When the doctor entered the room a few minutes later, his eyes took in Mulder's half-dressed state with a puzzled glance. "Why the jeans?" Mulder pulled down his waistband until it was obvious that was all there was between him and his Levi's. "Fair enough. Too bad you're not here for a shot. That would be downright handy." The exam went smoothly. No nasty surprises, and Mulder didn't appear to feel as much discomfort from the tongue depressor this time. The little mirror still caused a bit of gagging, though. Mulder looked relieved when the doctor finished and started writing down his findings. He had been scribbling for a couple of minutes before Mulder impatiently signed to Scully. "He wants to know if he can quit drinking his meals now," she interpreted. Doctor Halbert continued to write as he answered. "I'm going to need to invest in a private stenographer for your chart, Mulder. You're not good for my carpal tunnels." He signed his name with a flourish of his wrist, closed the file and leaned back against the counter. "Yes, you can start adding in more solid foods now, but nothing that isn't soft enough to smoosh up in your mouth before you swallow it. No orange, grapefruit, cranberry or tomato juice for at least four more days. Acidic foods will slow the healing process, besides the fact that they'll hurt like sin going down." Mulder shot Scully a guilty glance. She cleared her throat, drawing Halbert's attention. "What did he eat?" the doctor asked. "A cherry tomato." Halbert whistled. "Serves him right for not listening. Over the next week, creamed chicken, beef stew, cooked veggies, smooth fruit sauces, milk shakes, pudding, soft breads are allowed. Nothing hard, spiky, crunchy, or too salty yet. No chips, pretzel sticks, popcorn, or crispy cookies. In hard foods, I include raw carrot sticks, green pepper wedges, apple slices, nuts, even sunflower seeds." Mulder's shoulders slumped. "I know, I know. But your throat is still very delicate. The tissue is weak and fragile. If you think it's unpleasant having my submarine mirror in your mouth, just imagine needing surgical repair to the back of your throat." Halbert patted Mulder's back when he shuddered. "It's best to be safe now, rather than sorry later. Doctors love fuddy-duddy sayings like that." He picked up the chart and walked over to open the door. "You're all set, but I want you back here in a week so I can torment you again. And if I hear about any more incidents of non-compliance, I'll tell my nurse to take your temperature with the rectal thermometer. There's one in the refrigerator with your name on it." He closed the door. BELIEVE HIM "I think you'd better," Scully said, "or 'a long, cold one' could take on a whole new meaning." Mulder cringed. YEAH ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ J. Edgar Hoover Building Wednesday 4:13 PM The raucous laughter coming from the third floor break room shocked Scully into stillness just outside the door. It wasn't so much the laughter itself as the fact that she'd heard Mulder's name mentioned. "Can you imagine him trying to interrogate a suspect?" There was a moment of silence, followed by another explosion of mirth. "Or how about chasing down a perp?" Renewed guffaws. "He'd probably shoot someone while trying to hold his gun and talk at the same time." Scully stepped into the doorway and took stock of the cretins inside the room. Carstairs, Gutierrez and Holbein. Why did that not surprise her? It took a few moments before they noticed her. The laughter died out into snickers but didn't stop altogether. The three men glanced at each other while making a very poor effort to stem their chuckles. Was this what Mulder had been putting up with for the last week? The very idea sent her blood pressure soaring. "Is there something we can help you with, Agent Scully?" Carstairs. He was the first one she'd heard. In fact, he'd probably started the conversation. He had to know that she'd been listening, but he was playing it cool. Let him. She was hot enough for all of them put together. "Yes, Agent Carstairs, there is. You can tell me what you find so funny about Agent Mulder losing his voice." She stared at each of them in turn. Gutierrez and Holbein had the decency to look away, but Carstairs smirked. "I didn't think so. I can't come up with even one good reason why anyone would want to make fun of a fellow agent who's been injured." "You have to admit, Agent Scully, he does look funny when he's talking to you." She glared, and Carstairs retreated a step. "I'll admit nothing of the kind. What makes you think that cruelty is acceptable at any time? Would you follow a blind person around and tease their guide dog? Do you make faces at deaf people behind their backs? Would you be saying these things *at all* if it was anyone other than Mulder? I can't believe you! This is a colleague, a fellow agent. I would think you'd be wishing him well in his struggle to communicate while waiting for his voice to return. I didn't know there was so much entertainment value to be lost if he recovers." Even Carstairs was finally wearing a sheepish expression. He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off. "Don't bother to apologize, if that's actually what you had in mind," she spat. "I'm not the one who's owed an apology. You disgust me, every one of you." She spun on her heel -- and ran right into Mulder. He grabbed her arms as she staggered from the impact. He'd heard everything. Or enough to know what was going on. He shot her a faint smile before he gave the other agents the once- over. He stabbed a finger at each one, then formed his left hand into a circle and ran his right index finger around the inside of it. ASSHOLE Scully didn't bother to translate. Let them figure out *that* one on their own. Mulder tipped his head toward the elevator, waving a file in his hand. She followed him without a parting glance at the men in the break room. They rode the three floors down without talking but she could see pride in his eyes. She also sensed that he had something to say. When they reached the basement, she confronted him. "Spit it out, Mulder." SCULLY WARRIOR PRINCESS "Yeah, well... They just pushed my buttons, I guess. Mean people need to have their heads whacked together every so often." Mulder held up a finger, then walked to one of the book shelves. He picked up the Obi Wan Kenobi action figure and removed the light saber from its hand. He walked back across the office, stopped in front of Scully and, holding the toy light saber in the palms of both hands, bowed low as he presented it to her. "Thank you, peasant," she intoned regally. She took the toy and bopped him on the head with it. "Now what's this file that you were waving in my face a few minutes ago?" She hoped her message was clear -- let's get back to work and to hell with all the morons in the world. He picked up the file and they settled down to go over it. Business as usual, no outsiders need intrude, all is forgotten. But Scully couldn't forget, no matter how much she wanted to. The idea of other agents making fun of Mulder behind his back, or worse, in front of him, because of an *injury*, something he couldn't help, incurred in the line of duty! It rankled until she could hardly concentrate on her work. She wanted to do something to take away the bitter sound of their laughter. Maybe he hadn't heard that part of the encounter, but she had, and he understood her well enough to know she wouldn't dress down another agent without a very good reason. Yet he would never question her about it or let on that it bothered him, and that hurt, too. They worked for over an hour before finally calling it a day. When Mulder headed to the bathroom while she was packing up her briefcase, Scully got an idea. She quickly called one of the fancy restaurants she'd been wanting to try and made dinner reservations for that same night. The best she could do was seven o'clock, which meant they'd need to hurry. She decided to keep it a surprise for the moment. They so rarely had time to go out as a couple, she didn't want anything to spoil the treat. She'd show him a wonderful, romantic evening -- let him know how important he was to her and how much she loved him. It might not make up for all the Carstairs of the world, but maybe it would help him to know that they didn't matter to her. He was the only one she cared about. By the time Mulder came back to usher her out of the office, she was really excited about giving him an evening he wouldn't forget. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Scully's apartment 6:32 PM Maybe she would have been better off telling him and spoiling the surprise. Mulder had insisted on visiting his apartment for more clothes and some of his personal items before going to her place. She tried to convince him that they could do it the next day, but he was adamant. Or as adamant as someone can be when they can't put their demands into words. By the time she'd finally broken down and explained about the reservation, it was too late. They had already arrived at his place, so she figured they might as well get what he needed. He picked out a suit for dinner, grabbed more jeans, t-shirts and socks, and they were back out the door in record time. They hadn't counted on his elderly neighbor who wanted to check up on him as they were leaving. Or the heavier traffic at that hour of the night. All things considered, they were lucky to get to her place when they did. Mulder hadn't needed to do more than put on fresh socks, a different shirt and the new suit coat. He was waiting out in the living room, checking through her phone messages. But Scully realized that they were going to be late for their reservation if she didn't get changed quickly. She pulled off her suit jacket and checked it over. Nope. No need for the dry cleaner this time. She hung it in the closet, then pulled the knit shirt over her head. She tossed that on the bed, then kicked her shoes off and into the closet. She'd put them away later. Slacks and knee-high hose were thrown onto the bed, followed by her bra and panties. Out of the dresser, she chose one of her fancier sets of underwear. They were all silky, richly colored, but not an animal print among them. Mulder had expressed his disappointment over that on several occasions. She gathered up her washables, took them to the bathroom hamper, and freshened up while she was there. A shower would have to wait, but there was no reason why she couldn't smell nice for a hot date with her partner. Now for something to help her look as nice as she smelled. Standing naked in front of her closet, Scully debated the merits of her dresses. Nothing too casual, but she wasn't going to a cotillion, either. Maybe that forest green she'd worn to her cousin's wedding two years ago... As she moved to snag the hanger, her bare toes bumped against the work heels she'd left on the floor. She sure wouldn't need those tonight. Might as well put them away now, before she forgot again. She bent over to pick them up and suddenly felt Mulder's large hands circle her waist from behind. She jumped, but his long fingers didn't lose their grip or allow her to straighten. In fact, he hung on a little tighter and pulled her backward a step. She could hear him drawing in deep lungfuls of air as she felt his teeth nip love bites onto her ass. First a few on the left cheek, then more on the right one. There was no way in hell he could miss the fact that he was really turning her on, considering how close he was to the source of her arousal. But as much as she was enjoying his attentions, they did have a dinner reservation fast approaching. "Mulder, stop it." She squirmed against his imprisoning hands. "Let me go or we'll be late." To her surprise, he released her. She staggered slightly from the loss of support before managing to stand upright again. When she stepped backward, out of the closet, he was still right behind her. This time, both of his arms wrapped around her waist, one high and one low, while his hands blazed trails all over her skin. His naked erection slid insistently against her back, leaving a cool trail of sticky fluid on her spine. Wait a minute. Wasn't he fully clothed the last time she saw him? That was the only organized thought Scully had for several minutes while she attempted to fend off his pillaging hands. They were everywhere at once. She dislodged his fingers from her breast, only to have others snake between her legs. She removed them after a brief struggle, and found the first hand toying with her nipple again. Each time she managed to swat away one groping paw, the other was there to take its place, until she almost had herself convinced that Mulder was spontaneously growing extra hands. When her knees bumped against the bed, she found out that he'd managed to slowly nudge her away from the closet and across the room while she'd been otherwise occupied. Now she was right where he wanted her. He grasped her waist again and lifted her onto the bed in a kneeling position. She tried to take off across the mattress, but he grabbed her ankles and held her in place. Then he climbed up behind her and lay on her back. She flopped flat, unable to physically resist him any longer. He was going to persist until she gave in anyway, so she might as save her strength. She was sure he could smell her excitement by now, but she still had to try one last time to get them to the restaurant. "We're going to be late, Mulder," she said breathily into the blankets. She couldn't even convince herself with that voice. It was pitched low, raspy, and chock full of "come and take me, big boy." She might just as well concede defeat and enjoy the ride. As soon as she stopped struggling, Mulder's touch became gentle. His silence throughout gave his lovemaking a surreal quality. Not only couldn't she see him, his hands couldn't talk to her behind her back. It was almost like being with a stranger, except that she recognized his touch. Even if Mulder couldn't talk, his hands spoke a language her body understood. The kisses across her shoulder blades were sweetly familiar. She was intimately acquainted with the rock- hard erection pushing between her swollen lips. He tilted her hips just a bit with hands that had guided her to completion many times in the past. The friction of his entry into her body was a dearly welcomed friend; the languorous pumping of his hips longed for and anticipated whenever they were apart. He carefully lowered himself onto her back like a blanket, covering her skin with the warmth of his own. His hands traveled the length of her arms where they lay on the bed, until their fingers laced together. He released her right hand and made two signs against the bedspread before clasping her fingers again. LOVE YOU Yes, Mulder was still there. She tilted her hips higher, wordlessly begging him for more. He understood and sped up his thrusts. If there was only going to be silence for him, then they would learn to adapt. There wasn't anything they couldn't overcome together. Her orgasm was different than usual -- a slow-burning flame that melted her very bones but left her senses intact. It curled around inside her, igniting Mulder's climax with her own. His hot release deep within her body set off new tingles in her fingers and toes as his hips shuddered to a stop. She wanted him to remain on her back, covering her with his love, but he quickly moved off to one side. She mourned the loss of his body inside of hers even as she welcomed the sight of his face again. He blinked sleepily at her. "You are such a pig sometimes, Mulder." He pushed up the end of his nose with one finger and made soft snorting noises. She couldn't help chuckling. They lay there for a few minutes, trading kisses, until his eyes suddenly snapped wide open and he signed, DINNER "Fancy you remembering that." She didn't try to hide the sarcasm in her voice and added a raised eyebrow for good measure. OOPS She might have milked the guilt angle for a while longer, but he looked so contrite, she didn't have the heart. Instead, she snuggled into his chest. "You know what, Mulder? I think they're just going to have to give our reservation to someone else." Whatever made her think that she had to take him out for a special dinner to show him how she felt? She should have known better. All he required was the same thing she needed -- each other. As she'd often said in the past, sometimes the most obvious solution was the right one. "What would you say to a large pizza and a couple of beers instead of a fancy dinner out?" HURT "We'll tell them to go light on the sauce. I think it's okay to cheat a little and I promise not to tell Halbert this time." Mulder whistled softly. Yeah, this felt right. Pizza and beer it was, then. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Week 3 Dr. Halbert's Office Friday 9:32 AM HOW LONG Dr. Halbert looked up from Mulder's chart at the sound of Scully's voice "You mean until you can try talking?" Mulder nodded. "Technically, you could probably speak now, in a Froggie-from-the-Little-Rascals fashion. Your throat is pretty much healed, and your vocal chords are a great deal better. I'd still like you to wait another week before putting any strain on them, though. The extra rest period will finish the healing process and give you the best chance of recovering your full voice." Mulder threw back his head and opened his mouth in a silent scream. Halbert patted his shoulder. "That's not what you wanted to hear, but it's necessary. Don't think of it as one more voiceless week. Instead, think of the weeks that have already gone by. In that sense, it's *only* one more week." EASY FOR YOU "Yeah. Doctors are mean that way. I'll see you next week. Now take off and stay out of trouble before I decide to flush your sinuses just for the fun of it." Mulder pulled on his shirt after Halbert left the room. He avoided eye contact with Scully. No matter how much he clowned around for the doctor, he knew that his frustration would be clearly visible to her. He doubted if anyone else would be able to tell, but he could never hide anything from her, even when he was able to talk. Now, she easily read his slightest gesture after having to pay close attention for so long. He knew he shouldn't be upset, but he just couldn't help it. There was so much he wanted to say -- two week's worth of stored quips, conversations and observations were crammed inside his head with no way to get out. Sure, he could sign or write things down, but it just wasn't the same. The strain was definitely getting to him. She stood in front of him and held out his jacket. "Are you okay, Mulder?" He held his hand out, palm down, and waggled it back and forth. Pulling on the jacket, he walked over to the door and opened it. AFTER YOU She gave him a long, appraising stare, but didn't say anything. He followed her out of the exam room and stood by as she made a new appointment. The fact that she'd dropped the subject didn't fool him. She was just waiting until a better time and place before she gave him the third degree. It was unavoidable. That didn't mean that he wanted to discuss his fears again. "All set, G-man." Scully gestured toward the waiting room door. "After you this time." Driving had become a quiet activity because they didn't have any other choice. If Scully was the one in the driver's seat, she couldn't take her eyes away from the road long enough to interpret whatever Mulder's hands had to tell her. If Mulder was driving, as he was now, his hands were needed for steering rather than talking. Which was just as well, since her cell phone suddenly demanded her attention. Mulder kept his gaze on the traffic while he listened to her side of the conversation. "Scully... Yes, sir... Where?... No, I'm not that far away. But, sir... No, sir... No, sir... sir, I don't think... Yes, sir... Yes. I'll do that." Scully slammed her phone down on the dashboard. "Skinner says they think they've found the main chemical cache not far from here. He wants me to assist in the search and seizure, since the initial bust was ours." Mulder pumped his fist in the air. "He doesn't know you're with me, Mulder. He never gave me a chance to tell him. Otherwise I'm sure he wouldn't have told me to go straight to the scene." Pointing from himself to Scully and back again, Mulder held up two fingers, which he then twisted together. "We're not a team right now," she answered. "You still haven't been cleared for field duty. There's no way you're getting out of this car once we arrive. Do you understand me? And put away the orphan-child face, Mulder. I'm not buying it this time." He pantomimed a pair of binoculars. "Yes, you watch my back better than anyone else. But who's going to be your voice when you need to talk to me? You aren't ready to be in the field, and you know it. You can't even call out a warning if you have to use your gun. I want you to promise me you'll stay in the car once we get there. I won't be able to concentrate on my job if I'm worrying about you getting into trouble with no way of letting anyone know. Either you promise, or I'll get out right here and take a cab." Mulder's teeth ground together as he squeezed the steering wheel. Blowing out a huge, resigned breath, he drew a cross over the left side of his chest with one finger, then held three fingers up in the Boy Scout pledge. "You were an Indian Guide, Mulder. How am I supposed to take that?" He stuck the three fingers behind his head and waggled them like feathers. "Thank you. I know how hard this must be for you. Take a right at this next intersection. It's just outside the city limits." Silence reigned for the remainder of the short drive. Pulling up behind several parked government cars, he caught Scully's arm as she reached for the door handle. She watched as his hands pinwheeled through the air. "Okay, Mulder. I'll remind them to check for booby-traps, and I promise I'll let someone else go in first. Although Skinner might actually pass out from sheer joy if neither of us could sass him for a while." Grabbing her hand, he dropped a kiss into the palm, then folded her fingers over it and made shooing motions. Closing the door quietly, Scully walked over to a small group of black-coated agents who were staring at the car. Accepting a jacket with yellow 'FBI' letters on the back, she shrugged it on. Considering how everyone kept glancing from Scully to the car, Mulder figured she was being grilled about his presence. She apparently was able to satisfy their concern, because they all walked away. He settled back for a long, boring wait. He could see their target about a hundred yards down the road. A run-down old barn -- probably one of the last left that close to DC. The perfect place for a chemical lab and storage facility. He kept his eyes glued to Scully's small figure among the black backs creeping into the brush around the building. Most of them were going to the left, while she and two others moved to the right. He figured the majority were headed for the main barn doors, while the smaller contingent would guard the rear. The sight gave him a measure of peace, knowing she was out of harm's way for the moment. Mulder watched the team's progress and tried to relax, but being so close to a bust had him jazzed on adrenaline. His eyes skittered back and forth over the people closing in on the structure. They had been working their way toward the barn for less than ten minutes. There was no sign of anything amiss. There was even a good chance that this would turn out to be a false alarm. So why was the hair on the back of his neck standing up? Gripping the steering wheel, Mulder scanned the receding backs again. There was Agent Corbo. There was Agent Hannan. That was Scully in the rear. Behind her was... Holy shit! The fourth jacket moving to the right didn't have any yellow lettering on the back. It was black, cut in a similar fashion, but it wasn't Bureau issue. And the person was carrying something long and cylindrical in one hand. Mulder popped the glove compartment open and fished out a pair of binoculars. He spared a moment to steady his shaking hands before lifting them to his eyes. Dear Lord. It was Conroy. Mulder opened his mouth to shout a warning -- and squeaked. Slamming his hands against the dashboard, he frantically scanned the car for anything he could use to warn his partner. He picked up the cell phone, but realized it would be as useless as his voice. Scully didn't have a phone with her -- he was holding it in his hands. And there was no point in trying to call for help. It would never arrive in time, even if he could make anyone understand him. So the phone was out. Blowing the horn would alert Conroy and could precipitate a crisis. So could firing his gun. He couldn't take that chance. In the meantime, danger was closing in on his colleagues. Flinging open the car door, Mulder took off in a crouching run. He had no idea what he was going to do when he got to the barn, but he was incapable of staying in the car while Scully was unaware of the peril behind her. By the time he reached the back corner of the barn, the larger group of agents had disappeared around the front. Scully and her companions were flattened on either side of the rear door, waiting for a signal from the team leader. None of them knew they'd been joined by an interloper. Conroy leaned against the same wall, a bit farther back, clutching a shiny tube with a valve on one end. So intent was he on the group of agents, he didn't notice Mulder, now quietly crawling through the grass on his belly. Keeping his eyes fixed on the cylinder, Mulder crept as close as he could without coming within the man's peripheral vision. A plan was forming -- not a good one, but it was the only thing he could think of. It would require exact timing, perfect reflexes, and a shitload of luck. Piece of cake. Hours seemed to stretch by. He heard the team barrel through the barn door at the same time the smaller group of agents responded to their leader's signal to break in the rear exit. Conroy stepped away from the wall, his hand moving to twist the valve on the cylinder. Mulder dug his toes into the soft dirt, pushed with his arms, and launched himself upward. "Scully!" His voice was raspy, and not very loud, but it did the trick. His partner's head snapped around to her right, gun leveled and finger tightening on the trigger even as her eyes scanned the area. She squeezed and one bullet from her gun impacted Conroy's shoulder as he pivoted toward the shout behind him. He jerked one way, falling toward the ground, as Mulder rocketed past, grabbing the cylinder and falling the other way. Mulder pitched the tube as far as he could into the brush before crashing to the dirt. Everything happened so fast, it took the other agents several seconds to react. "Suspect has been hit!" "Agent down!" Hurrying to where her partner lay, Scully dropped to her knees beside him. Mulder blew out great wheezing breaths, but he waved off Scully's hands as she checked him for damage. WINDED NOT HURT He thumped his chest to emphasize the point. OKAY Scully sat back on her heels, ignoring the other agents swarming around Conroy. "What the hell do you think you were doing, Mulder? You promised to stay in the car." SAW HIM HAD TO WARN "You could have blown the horn." GAS HAD TO STOP "But you're not on duty --" WATCH YOUR BACK ALWAYS "Right. I shouldn't have expected anything else." She held out a hand to help him off the ground. "Come on. We'll have to make a report to the ASAC and then you're going back to Halbert's office." WHY "You might have strained your vocal chords trying to shout. I want him to check you out." NO HOSPITAL "No, I don't think it's that serious. I just don't want to take any chances." He opened his mouth to speak again, but she held up a hand to stop him. "Don't damage anything further, Mulder. Let the doctor look at it first." SAY ONE THING "Okay. But just one, and then no more talking." He checked to make sure no one was paying attention to them. "I love you." His voice was gravelly and almost a whisper, but he managed to get the words out. She gave him a tender smile. "You didn't have to say it, Mulder. I always know." She rubbed his sleeve for a moment, then tugged his arm and steered him toward the cluster of agents. "Come on. We'll make our report, then I'm going to let Halbert kick your ass, and then it's MY turn when we get home." Mulder pulled back in pretend fright. "Oh yeah, partner. When I get you home, your ass is soooo mine." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ THE END Author's Notes: I realize that the idea of both Mulder and Scully knowing enough sign language to communicate with each other is a bit far-fetched, but that's why it's called "fiction." I hope you were able to suspend your disbelief a little and go with it. The speech patterns I've used don't necessarily represent the way American Sign Language is spoken. There is much that's implied with ASL, plus it doesn't contain things like articles and prepositions. I'm sure that once I start taking the classes for my language requirement, I'm going to be very embarrassed by how wrong I got it. Suffice to say that it was necessary to represent Mulder's speech in this way simply to make him understandable in the context of the story. BTW, I actually heard some guy in the grocery store using the construction worker's cheesy pick-up line on the checkout clerk. He didn't have any better luck than this guy did. I just couldn't resist the temptation to swipe it. Hope he doesn't mind. Feedback: mimic117@yahoo.com Homepage: http://www.mimicsmusings.com