Authors Note: The X-Files series and characters belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox. No copyright infringement is intended. This is a work of not-for-profit fan fiction. This story is copyright 2,000 by Stacy Smith and no part of this work may be reproduced, printed, posted or distributed in any manner without my express written consent. The town of Carlton and all people, places and things in it are a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, living or deceased, is unintentional. Further Note: The title for this story (and some inspiration for the plot) comes from the song "Blue on Black" by Kenny Wayne Shepherd. Title: Blue on Black Author: Stacy Codes: MA, SA, MT, MSR, RST, Rape Spoilers: A few, all the way into season 7. Rating: NC-17 for violence, sexual situations, and language. Archive: MTA. Anywhere else, please write and ask me for permission. Summary: Mulder is abducted by a serial killer known as "The Music Man," and Scully must race against time to save him while they come to terms with their feelings for each other. "Night falls and I'm alone Skin, yeah chills me to the bone You, turned and you ran, oh, yeah Oh, slipped, right from my hand. Blind but now I see Truth lies on in-between Wrong can't be undone Slipped from the tip of my tongue. Hey, blue on black, tears on a river Push on a shove, it don't mean much Joker on Jack, match on a fire Cold on ice is a dead man's touch A whisper on a scream, doesn't change a thing Don't bring you back Blue on Black" "Blue on Black," Kenny Wayne Shepherd Carlton, Alabama Tuesday, 4:17 A.M. "Wake up, Mr. Mulder..." The voice, quiet, smooth, brought Mulder out of his semi-conscious state. He twisted around with difficulty, trying to place the direction the voice was coming from. It wasn't Scully's voice. It was different; deeper. Darker. He forced his eyes partly open, gazing up in a daze. His mouth was dry. It took a moment to realize he wasn't gagged. Not that he could scream right now anyway. His body didn't want to obey him. 'Drugged,' he thought hazily. He didn't seem to be injured. Just tired, weak. "That's good," the voice said softly. "I'm going to get you some water. You'll be more alert in an hour. Then we'll have some fun." Unable to speak, Mulder groaned. Footsteps receded. He shook his head, forcing himself to become more alert. He opened his eyes fully and squinted at his surroundings. He was lying on a large black metal bed. His wrists were handcuffed to a post on each side. His legs were also spread apart and his ankles cuffed to posts at the foot of the bed. He was fully clothed, nothing bleeding or broken that he could see. He rested his head on the pillow again and looked beyond himself. The room he was in was... eerie. There was no other word for it. Not because it was filled with grotesque statues or books of Satanic verses. It was... almost seductive. The walls were a rich purple, or at least they seemed to be. Only candles resting in tall metal candleholders lighted the room. There was a faint scent of roses in the air. He heard strains of violin music. Yet at the same time there was a sense of stillness and decay. It was the combination of the two forces that gave off the subtle vibrations he felt. He shivered. The only furniture in the room was the bed, a black metal chair, and two tables. One was beside the bed. The other was a longer, wider table near the chair. On this table was a frightening arrangement of items; handcuffs, duct tape, two bowie knives, what looked like acupuncture needles. A candle and cigarette lighter. Latex gloves. An ugly premonition crept into his mind. He moaned. 'How the fuck did this happen?' He asked himself. But even as he did he knew the answer. It was his stupidity, his eagerness to rush in where angels feared to tread. Now he was in trouble. And he didn't know if Scully could find him in time. If only he'd waited for her... Three days earlier Mulder had bounded up to Scully with a huge grin. She knew what that smile meant. She sighed. "So, what is it this time?" She asked wearily. "Vampires? UFO sighting? Lions and tigers and bears oh, my?" He raised an eyebrow at her words. "Come on, Scully, you act like my only purpose in life is to drag you off into crazy adventures." She arched an eyebrow of her own. "It's crossed my mind." Ignoring the comment, he prepared his slides and turned on the projector. She moved closer, waiting as he turned off the lights. A second later a street flashed onto the screen. It looked like Anytown USA- storefronts, lots of people. She glanced at him. He licked his lips and began the monologue. "Carlton, Alabama. Population: 19,000, more or less. It was a peaceful little city until last week." "And what happened last week?" She asked rhetorically. "Glad you asked, Scully. Three men disappeared, one every other night. The days in between the bodies were recovered." He clicked the slide. Scully found herself looking at a young man in his twenties. He had no distinguishing characteristics, unless you counted the fact that he was physically attractive. "David McIntyre. Disappeared this past Monday. Body was found Tuesday." He showed her two other men, each very good-looking. By now she had noticed a pattern, or thought she had. They each had dark hair, and were more beautiful than strictly handsome. "And their bodies have been found now, too," she said. He nodded. "Chris Vaughn's body was found yesterday. If the pattern holds, the killer will take a new victim tonight." "What's the cause of death?" She asked. "Stab wound. One in each body. Right through the heart." Scully winced. He caught the look. "I know, but don't worry, Scully. I don't think this is the work of a vampire slayer." "Oh?" She asked in surprise. "Nope. I think it's a good old-fashioned serial killer." "That's amazing." "Scully, you wound me. Even I know not everything is an X-File." She couldn't resist a smile. "Just most things." He smiled back before turning his attention back to the case before them. "Each man disappeared without a trace, no one remembers seeing anything unusual. There are, of course, only a few obvious clues." "Which are?" "You've figured some of them out already, I'm sure." She sighed. She hated it when he tested her, almost as though after all these years he still thought she couldn't make anything other than a scientific assessment of anything. She schooled herself to be patient as she played his game. "All the victims are male, fairly young, physically attractive, dark-haired." He nodded approval. "Any signs of sexual abuse?" She asked. He glanced down. "Not in the strictest sense." She shook her head. "What does that mean?" He took a deep breath. "No signs of rape. But... there is evidence of some physical torture of a sexual nature." "Such as?" He glanced down again before gazing at her. "Mild burns. Lacerations on the nipples. One guy's pubic hair had been completely shaved off. Chris Vaughn had a heart carved into his chest. Nothing major, but enough to say that these are some type of sex crimes." She nodded. "What's the other clues?" "Only one more right now. Each of these men were last seen in dance clubs." "Dance clubs?" "Yep. Rave type places. Fast stuff. Where the college kids go." "Were these places homosexual clubs?" He slanted a grin at her, impressed with her leap. "Nope. Straight, though I'm sure gay people go to them." She nodded thoughtfully. "So when do we leave?" she asked. "Today. I've already spoken to the sheriff and the state boys. We're posing as a married couple new to the area. And we like to dance." "DO we," she said. "Umm-hmm. Pack your sexiest boogie clothes, Scully. We're going on the disco round." They had left D.C. as Mulder and Scully. When they arrived in Carlton they were Brian and Angela Davis. Mulder had gotten their wedding rings out of storage from their adventure as the Petris. He'd also arranged for a rental car and a room at the local Marriott. As they drove Scully absently twisted the gold band on her finger. Playing wife to Mulder was as much of a mind trip as anything else relating to him. After all these years she had learned to try and take it in stride. And she usually succeeded. But at times it was hard. She glanced over at him, looking relaxed in his black polo shirt and white cotton pants. He also looked damn good, but she'd never tell him that. The wedding ring on his hand glinted in the sun and for just a second she felt like they really were married. She pushed the thought away quickly. Dangerous. Not professional. And definitely not something to dwell on. They arrived at the Marriott and checked into their room. Scully noted that it had two double beds, and wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed. She tossed her bag on the one nearest the window, sitting on the edge and stretching her legs. Mulder took out a small bag of sunflower seeds and began crunching. "So where do we start?" She asked with a yawn. "There's a club called the Odyssey on Elliot Street. It's just a few doors down from Darkside, which is where Chris Vaughn's roommate heard him say he was going Wednesday night." "Why don't we go in Darkside?" "Because my guess is that the killer is changing clubs each time a victim is taken." She nodded, glancing at her hands, then back up as a thought struck her. "Mulder, can you even dance?" He raised one seed-filed hand to his heart. "Can I DANCE? Scully, I will shake you down until you beg me to stop." "What an offer." "I'm serious! I was quite the clubber in my college days." "That was years ago, Mulder. We're both older now." "So what are you saying? That we can't get down anymore?" "No, I'm simply saying that things are bound to be different now and we're going to look at little out of place at first." He sat beside her, resting one hand lightly on her knee. "Don't worry, Scully. Dirty dancing never goes out of style, and I bet we can BOTH do that really well." He grinned and moved his hand, trying to ignore the sense of loss at not being in contact with her skin. "Uh-huh," she scoffed, but inside she felt a little thrill. Dirty dance? With Mulder? She had a jolt of electricity run though her just thinking about it. Mulder got up; the idea of holding Scully close on the dance floor making his heart beat faster. He headed towards the bathroom. "Let's have dinner before we go, ok? We'll need all the calories we can get." She nodded. "I wanna take a nap first." He paused, grinning at her. "Feeling your age, Scully?" She tilted her head and made a sour face. "I just want to be well-rested and able to stay awake longer." "Good idea. OK, let's take a two hour nap, get ready and go." She murmured agreement, taking off her shoes and removing her jacket before getting under the covers. She heard Mulder humming "Disco Inferno" in the bathroom as she fell asleep. Three hours later, Mulder banged on the bathroom door in irritation. "Come on, Scully. We gotta meet the sheriff before we go to the club." "I'm almost ready," she answered. He sighed, deciding to pace the room again. He was dressed in a dark green short-sleeved silk shirt and a tight pair of black jeans. He checked his reflection in the mirror again. Not bad, he thought to himself. He couldn't wait for Scully to see him. He'd show her how good an "old timer" could look. The door opened, and when Mulder turned he instantly realized that he could not breathe, that he needed immediate medical attention, preferably in the form of mouth-to-mouth from Scully. Because looking at her was robbing him of his ability to draw air into his lungs. She was wearing a short black dress, with thin shoulder straps and a plunging neckline. The material flowed over every curve and clung to her like a second skin across the breasts and hips. Her makeup played up her blue eyes and full lips; her hair was soft and loose around her face. His first coherent thought was: 'I didn't know Scully HAD a dress like that.' The second was: 'Damn, she looks good in it.' "Mulder?" He realized with a start that he'd been staring. "Sorry, Scully. You just look... amazing." "Yeah?" She asked, trying not to sound eager. She'd debated on whether or not to bring the dress, which was left over from her own wild horses days. Now, with Mulder gaping at her in astonished pleasure, she was glad she'd had the nerve to wear it. He was smiling like a maniac. "Yeah." "Well, you don't look too bad yourself," she said casually. The truth was that seeing him in those clothes made her knees weak and she had to fight the urge to walk over to him and run her hands over his body. "Told you I still have it," he said. "I never doubted you for a second," she said solemnly. He stuck his tongue out at her. "Come on. We gotta meet Sheriff Larson at the Golden Tree restaurant." ====== The restaurant was a small, cozy place, not casual or fancy but somewhere in between. Sheriff Larson was waiting for them at the table Mulder had reserved while Scully was getting ready. He was a tall, thin man with nervous eyes that danced as he talked. He was dressed in street clothes because he along with some of his men were going into the clubs as well. They had, in fact, done that after the second murder. But as he said, it was damn hard to look for something when you didn't know exactly what it was or how to look for it. After they had ordered, Mulder leaned forward and looked at him. "Sheriff, any new developments come up yet?" He shook his head, blonde hair threatening to fall into his eyes. He shoved it back as he replied: "Nothing so far. But I tell you one damn thing; I hope we catch the Music Man before he strikes again." "The Music Man?" Scully asked, puzzled. "It's what we've nicknamed this sicko. Because he gets all his victims from clubs." "You seem pretty sure it's a man," Mulder commented. "Well, what else could it be? No woman could do things like that." Mulder shrugged. "You may be right." Scully knew that this was what Mulder did when he was not entirely convinced about something. But she wasn't in the mood for a confrontation to escalate over it. "Sheriff perhaps you can give us some more details," Scully suggested. He smiled, but it was grim. "I'll wait til after ya'll eat." And he did, waiting patiently until their steaks and baked potatoes had been consumed before speaking about it again. "How much do you know about the victims?" He asked. Mulder wiped his hands on his napkin before saying: "Just what we read in your reports." "Pretty bad, if you ask me. I knew the second boy, Eric. His family lived next door to mine for 11 years. He was a good kid." "Eric. He's the one..." Mulder stopped as he saw a look of anger mixed with pain on the other man's face. "Yeah, he's the one who got shaved. And had needles in his chest." Scully winced; glad she had finished eating. Although she'd seen more than her share of blood and horror, she still didn't like discussing it. Mulder didn't look too thrilled either, wiping his hands again as though they were still dirty. "Sorry," Mulder said quietly. Larson shook his head. "Hell, Mr. Mulder, it's not your fault. It just hits close to home, you know what I mean?" "Yeah, I know." "This has always been a pretty quiet place. Even with the college. Now this happens. People know something is going on. We haven't released all the details to the public yet because we don't want to scare the killer into hiding. But if he strikes again we may have no choice." "Then I guess we'd better find the killer fast," Mulder said. "Yeah. I guess so." As they left the restaurant the sheriff looked at them. "I'm putting two men in each of the five clubs. I'll be at Darkside. Maybe someone will remember something." Scully nodded. "We're going to start with Odyssey. If we find anything we'll let you know." "Sounds like a plan, Miss Scully." He shook hands with them then hurried off. Mulder took a deep breath and looked down at his partner. "Ready to rumble?" He asked. She raised her eyebrows and sighed. "As ready as I'll ever be." "Come on. What could be more fun than dancing with me while searching for a killer?" He asked, and was rewarded with an extremely sarcastic look. "Mulder, you don't have enough time to hear that list." "Probably not," he replied. After she got in the car, he opened his door, pausing to look at some teen-agers walking towards Elliot Street. One of them let out a lusty howl. Mulder grinned. "Yeah! Get down on it!" He yelled as he got in the car. Scully sighed again. It was going to be a long night. They parked across from the entrance to the Odyssey in one of the spaces marked VIP. The club's owner was expecting them and had secured them the best spot for their car. They could sit and watch the doors of the club from there if they wanted, because it was the only entrance. Plus they were in a perfect spot if they had to engage in pursuit. As they got out, Scully could hear the furious thumping of techno music and once again questioned as to how well they would do dancing to this. Mulder, of course, didn't seem the least bit concerned. He put one arm lightly around her waist as they flashed their driver's licenses at the door. Their right hands were stamped with a black circle that had the word "Odyssey" inside it, and they were waved inside. Scully's ears protested the volume of the sound around them immediately. She glanced around. The place was packed out. Couples were moving in a mass of arms and legs on the dance floor, many grinding their bodies together in what looked like little more than clothed sex to her. There was a bar on each side of the club. Black lights were everywhere, along with multi-colored posters from various bands and films. Mirrors lined the walls in between the posters. They headed for the bar nearest the front door. Waiting there were the two police officers, sitting on barstools and sipping from cups of water. They nodded at one another before sliding to the other side. "Want a drink, Scully?" "Diet Pepsi." "You know that stuff is bad for you," Mulder deadpanned. She looked up at him with a faint trace of amusement. "So is alcohol." "No, no, Scully. You've got it all wrong. Diet drink; bad. Alcohol; good." "Not while we're on duty it isn't," she said firmly. "True," he admitted. He ordered her a diet Pepsi and got an ice water for himself. After about five minutes of drinking and absorbing their surroundings he took her drink and sat it down next to his. "Ok, Scully. No more stalling. Let's hit it." "I haven't been stalling," she protested. But she did get a strange feeling as Mulder took her hand and let her towards the dance floor. The music changed from rave to dance. "Move Your Body" by Eiffel 65 began to play. Scully had heard the song earlier that night on the radio and figured she could handle it fine. She let her body begin to sway with the rhythm, closing her eyes as long-ignored drives resurfaced within her. She felt herself collide with something hard and her eyes flew open as she gasped. The something hard was Mulder's body. He'd pulled her to him and was gently rubbing his lower body against hers as they moved. "Mulder, we don't have to be all over each other," she protested. But even as she said it she could feel her pulse race. Without conscious thought she ground her hips back against his. "See? You've enjoying it as much as I am," he said with a sly grin. She wanted to say he was wrong, but before she could speak he moved his lips to her ear. "Scully, as far as these people can see we're married. Almost everyone else is doing it. You said we need to fit in." "Yes, I did, but not-" "Oops!" A woman bumped into Mulder, giggling. Her date grinned too as he pulled her back towards him. "I'm sorry," she shouted over the song. "It's okay," Mulder smiled. "We just got married five days ago," the woman said with a drunken laugh. "Congratulations," Mulder replied. Both the man and woman nodded. "How long you two been married?" The woman asked, looking at Mulder's hand. "Seven years," he replied quickly. "Wow. And you're still raring to go. That is so cool," the man said dreamily. "Did you hear that, honey? We're still cool," Mulder beamed. "That is... fantastic," Scully replied with a tight smile, a smile that clearly said 'I'll get you for this, Mulder.' Oh, well. If he was dammed anyway... Mulder tipped her head up and kissed her on the lips. He could feel her stiffen in shock, but he didn't stop until she relaxed against him. She brought one hand up to twine in his hair, and gave it a yank. "Ouch," he exclaimed as he drew back. "Did I hurt you, honey? I'm so sorry," she cooed with a malicious gleam in her eyes." She smiled at the couple standing next to them. "Sometimes I don't know my own strength," she said. They only nodded, then wove their drunken way back into the crowd. Mulder pulled her hard against him. "You sure don't." "Well, you were getting a little out of hand." "You liked it." She opened her mouth but he put a finger across her lips. "Didn't you?" She glanced down. "All right, maybe a little." "A LITTLE? Scully, you're no good for my ego." She smiled. "I try." They continued dancing. Scully let herself enjoy the feeling of Mulder's lean, firm body pressed to hers. And Mulder was definitely reveling in having her soft curves molded to him. They danced to three more songs, keeping their eyes moving around the club as they did. "See anything suspicious?" Mulder said into her ear. She shook her head. "Not yet. Mulder, how in the hell are we even supposed to know how to look? Any man or woman leaving with someone could be the killer." He nodded. "Maybe we should go stake the place out from the car. Maybe we'll catch something we won't see in here with all these people." "Yes. I just need to go to the bathroom first. Don't leave without me." "I'll wait for you at the bar." They left the dance floor, brushing past people and saying "excuse me" or having someone say "sorry" to them. Both of them were completely unaware of a pair of cold blue eyes following their movements. As Scully pushed her way towards the bathroom, Mulder glanced around again. He saw a man leaving the bar, something glinting from his back pocket. Mulder strained to get a better look. Even in the semi-darkness, he could tell it was the handle of a knife. A warning bell went off in his head. Without thinking of Scully or anything else, he began shoving people out of his way to get to the door. Once he did he raced outside. The man was nowhere in sight. He turned to ask the bouncer at the door if he'd seen the guy, only to find that the bouncer was gone. And no one was on the street. He saw an alley beside the bar. As he walked towards it he heard a moan. He ran into it, listening. It was coming from beside a trash dumpster. He looked. It was the doorman, lying semi-conscious on the ground. Mulder knelt down to him. "What happened?" He asked. Before the man could say anything, Mulder felt something heavy strike him. Then everything faded. The footsteps returned. The music seemed a little louder. Mulder could barely make out a figure hiding in the shadows. "What do you want?" He croaked. "Interesting question, Fox. I CAN call you that, can't I?" The voice was mocking. "Sure, as long as I can call you asshole," Mulder quipped. The voice only laughed. "How witty you are. I was HOPING we could have some sparkling conversation together." Mulder turned his attention to something more important. "Why don't you let me see you?" He asked. "As you wish." The figure stepped out of the shadows into the room. Mulder drew a sharp breath. "You..." his voice trailed off. "Oh, yes. It was nice of you not to wait for your friend. Or I suppose I should say your partner. It made it so much easier for me to get you. I'd been watching you all night, you know." "I'm flattered," he said dryly, and was rewarded for his comment with a surprisingly hard slap. "Don't get too cocky," the voice hissed. "You might be as replaceable as the others." Mulder's head swam and his heart sank down into his feet. "Then it is you. You're the one we've been looking for." The figure said nothing, only watched him as he struggled with his fear and horror. "You're the Music Man." The man laughed. "So how's your head?" The man asked casually. "Sorry I had to club you, but I knew I didn't have much time." "And then you drugged me," Mulder said accusingly. "Didn't want to take any chances. After all, you ARE an FBI agent." 'The sheriff was right. I was wrong,' Mulder thought. 'I was wrong. I wish Scully was here to know that..." "What are you thinking about so hard, Fox?" "That I was wrong. I didn't think you were a man." His captor smiled. "Actually, you're right and wrong. But mostly you were right." Dazed, Mulder shook his head. "I don't understand. What are you saying?" "I'm saying things aren't always what they seem. You should know that." And as Mulder watched in terrified fascination, the man's features blurred and dissolved, his body shrank, his entire appearance metamorphosized. When he was finished, the man he had been was gone and a woman stood in his place. Blonde, brown-eyed. Smiling. "See?" She said gleefully. "You were right." 'I'll be damned,' Mulder thought. 'And I thought this wasn't an X-File. Wrong two times in two days. Scully would be amazed. I hope I live long enough to tell her.' "You're a morpher. A shapeshifter," he said softly. She shook her head. "Not really. I can only take these two forms, these two appearances. But now you know why I'll never be caught. Even if someone saw me, they saw me as a man. They always do. The man is who they'll look for. And I change from him as soon as I'm out of sight from people. Like tonight. As soon as I pulled you over the alley wall into my car, I changed. They won't be looking for me." She smiled again. "That means you and I will have plenty of time together." He swallowed. She brought the glass of water up to his lips. He hesitated. "If I wanted to poison or drug you, I could. I don't want you dead." He drank. When he was done his throat was no longer so dry and his head cleared a bit. "What if I start screaming?" He asked. Her eyes seemed to take on a feral glow. "Do you want to?" "No. I don't. Because if anyone could hear me scream you would have gagged me." "Very good. We're in the basement. You're very intelligent. Of course, you'd have to be to work for the FBI. Your only weakness is you're headstrong. You didn't wait for your partner. But I didn't think you would. So I set the trap." She trailed one long finger down his cheek. He shuddered. "And it looks like I caught me a Fox." ===== Dana Scully walked the length of the club's tiny office yet another time. It accomplished nothing, except to let her work off some of her anger. And at the moment she had quite a lot of that. Anger at Mulder, for rushing off without her. Anger at herself for not being there and helping him. Anger at the police officers who had been hitting on girls in tight spandex and hadn't noticed he was gone until it was too late. Anger at the club owner, the killer, and the universe as a whole. None of which was helping her think. She forced herself to shove the anger down so she could concentrate. The abductor had taken him; that much she was sure of. She would have heard from him a long time ago otherwise. She didn't like to admit it, but he fit most of the pattern; dark hair, good-looking, in a club. And now the killer would know the FBI was on the case. The doorman had given them their only leads so far; that a blonde haired guy had told him someone was injured in the alley and could he come help him bring the guy out. He was able to give them a good description, including that he saw a knife sticking out of his back pocket. Then he'd been struck. The last thing he remembered was Mulder bent over him, then falling as he'd been hit. When he woke up he was alone in the alley. 'A good start, but not enough,' Scully thought in despair. "Agent Scully?" She turned to see Sheriff Larson just inside the doorway. "I... I'm sorry. About Mr. Mulder." She nodded, face tight. "Any luck yet with the description?" He shook his head. "I've had a sketch drawn that Tom says is an almost perfect match. We're running it through the system now. Nothing yet." "Hey, boss!" One of the deputies burst in. "We got a clue! We think we found what they got hit with!" Scully ran. ====== Mulder fought down panic. He had to keep focused. Anything he could do to stay alive longer gave Scully more time to find him. "What do you want?" He asked again. "Are you always so impatient?" "Only when somebody is planning on killing me," Mulder replied. To his surprise, she laughed. In other circumstances the sound might have been pleasant. As it was it sent renewed shivers through him. "I'm not planning on killing you, Fox." He was confused again. "You're not?" "Nope. Although whether or not I do will depend on you, not me." "But the others..." He said. She snorted, a low, contemptuous sound. "The others? They were little more than animals. All looks and no brains. And not very well-mannered." She touched his face again lightly. "But you're different. You could be the one I've been looking for." "Looking for?" He croaked. "Yes. My companion. Someone to be with me for the rest of my life." Mulder felt the blood drain from his face. Her fingers moved into his hair, tousling it. He forced himself not to pull away. "What was so wrong with the others? David, Eric and Chris? Why weren't they the right ones?" "Didn't you get it? Well, I suppose I should explain. That way you'll know what's expected of you." "I'm all for that," he assured her. "David was just an idiot, plain and simple. His greatest intellectual achievement was reading Sports Illustrated. Eric thought it was some kind of game. He laughed at me and told me to bring it on." "So you did." She smiled. "I shaved him. He still thought that was a riot. So I asked him if he liked pain. I told him I didn't think he could handle it. He said he could take anything. So I put needles through his nipples." Mulder's breath quickened. She seemed to take pleasure in the memory. "He was wrong. He didn't like it. He screamed. It was a sweet sound. But I had to kill him. He'd crossed the line. He was a reject." "And Chris?" Her eyes became dreamy. "I thought he could be the one. But he got an attitude. He called me names. A pathetic juvenile. Tried to tell me what to do. Typical man." "Isn't it though," Mulder said. She shot him a glance. "Sorry," he said in what he hoped was a meek, if not sincere, voice. "That doesn't matter now, though. Because now I have you. You won't act like they did." All the time she spoke she'd been playing with his hair. Her hand moved down to his cheek again, his jaw. Her nails were sharp and painted black. He looked at her, the psychologist in him cataloging everything she had said, assessing her mental workings. Her ability to gendermorph, though fascinating, had probably contributed to her psychosis. Afraid, alone, angry and in pain, she'd went over the edge of loneliness into this particular brand of dementia. Probably consciously thought she was superior to others and therefore deserved to take what she wanted; a man to be with her. Her voice brought Mulder out of his train of thought and his attention back to her. "At least, I hope you won't." "Maybe you should tell me exactly what you expect from me," he suggested, hoping that could save his life, if not a body part. "For you to behave. To keep me entertained." "Entertained? How?" "With conversation. And other things." "Other things?" He repeated numbly. Her hand left his face to slide down his chest, and he suddenly had a good idea of what she meant. "Isn't that gonna be kind of hard to do with me handcuffed?" He asked weakly. "Not the way I have in mind," she purred. Scully stared at the piece of metal pipe that officer White held between two gloved hands. "It was under the dumpster like someone had thrown it there in a hurry," he said. Scully quickly put on gloves and opened a print kit. After a few minutes of careful dusting she swore softly. "Damn." "What is it?" Larson asked. She looked up. "There are two sets of prints on this. One appears to be a man's; the other a woman's." "So it won't help any?" He asked, dejected. "Wait... there's something strange here." Scully turned the pipe in her hands, staring in confusion. "Shine a light on this for me." Larson aimed his beam where she directed. "These prints... they look the same." "That's impossible," he said uneasily. "That may be, but the fact remains that they do. Here, look for yourself." She directed his attention to them. "Except for the fact that some are larger, they seem identical." "But how could that be? Not even twins have the same prints!" "Normally, no." Scully's voice trailed off as she thought. She stood quickly. "I want these analyzed and ran through every possible database." "You got it. But that could take an hour or two." "Then you'd better get your ass in gear, sheriff," she replied, and as he stared at her in astonishment she took out her phone to call Skinner. Mulder found himself desperately wishing for more water. His throat had suddenly gone as dry as parchment. "What should I call you?" He asked. "Mistress." He nodded. Ok, he thought. Mistress. He could see how this was shaping up. But he knew he could play the game. All he had to do was watch his mouth. Hopefully he could fake it until someone could find him or he could escape. "May I please have more water, Mistress?" He asked softly. She smiled. "Very good. Of course you can." Mulder drank deeply when she held the cup to his lips. When he was finished he said: "Thank you, Mistress" in the same quiet voice. "You're welcome, Fox." She was beaming. 'So far, so good,' Mulder thought. Of course, there hadn't been any kind of real test yet. She sat the glass down and looked at him. "Now that you're feeling better, we can play." "Play?" He asked, suddenly very afraid that the first test was coming. When she slowly began to approach the large table, he knew. She casually withdrew a pair of scissors, then walked over to him. Her eyes had the same inner glow from before. He took a deep unsteady breath. "Mistress... what are you going to do?" He asked. "Shhh," she whispered, brushing a lock of hair back from his face. "Only speak when I tell you too." He nodded; eyes fixed on the scissors. She moved to the end of the bed, taking the bottom edge of one leg of his jeans in her hand. He closed his eyes as he felt the fabric being cut away from his body. She repeated her action on the other side, pulling them off him when she was finished. She repeated her actions with his shirt, then his boxers. By the time she got to his socks he was shivering, from both fear and cold. He opened his eyes to find her staring at him in appreciation. "You have a magnificent body, Fox." He lowered his eyes as a wave of shame overtook him. He felt movement and looked to see that she was moving atop him, resting her weight on him as she stretched out on the length of his body. Every inch of him was aware of her; her long hair, her breasts and hips, her arms and legs. And his skin crawled from the contact. He almost struggled to free himself as a reflex, but suppressed the urge. Instead he closed his eyes again. He didn't want to watch. He felt her face close to his, felt her lips grazing his cheek, his chin, his neck. Then he felt her mouth on his. He lay stunned, unable to believe what was happening. She raised up slightly. "Open your eyes," she ordered him. He slowly obeyed, blinking up at her in the dim candlelight. She lowered her mouth back to his, stopping only an inch away. "When I kiss you, you respond," she said, and there was a glint of steel beneath the softness of her tone. He swallowed. She closed her eyes as their lips met. He closed his as well. "Open your mouth," she murmured. He shuddered as he obeyed, feeling revulsion sweep through him as she explored his mouth with her tongue. It struck him that now he knew how it felt for a woman to be violated; indeed, he was being violated himself. And what worried him the most was how far she would attempt to take it. When she stopped kissing him, she began working her way down his body, placing kisses as she went. 'Definitely into power and control,' he thought. Like a male counterpart, it was not the act itself that she enjoyed so much as the power she had that allowed her to do it. He realized she was now nearing his waist, still working her way down. Oh, God, what would she do if she couldn't get a reaction from him there? He didn't want to consider it. When she took him into her mouth he kept his eyes shut and pretended that it was Scully, that Scully was touching him, tasting him. He felt himself getting hard. He fought down his anxiety. 'Let it happen,' he reminded himself. And in his mind he kept an image of Scully teasing him with her lush mouth while he was being licked and stroked. He cried out when he came, barely managing not to say his partner's name out loud. His face flooded red with anger and shame. He was trembling, and it upset him that he couldn't stop that, either. He felt her hand on his face and looked at her. She had that smile again. "Good, Fox. I knew you would be the one." The words came out before he could stop himself. "Lucky me." Her expression instantly changed, clouded over. He saw the anger again. 'Oh, shit,' he thought. "I'm sorry, Mistress. I'm still not myself, the drugs... please forgive me," he pleaded. She nodded once. "I understand, Fox. You've had too much stimulation too fast. And that was a small offense. I'm not going to punish you very hard." 'Punish me?' His mind echoed. She went to the table and picked up a black leather riding crop. The whip part of it was about two feet long. She came back to his side and before he could even think about begging he felt the first sting. She whipped him with it methodically, from his shoulders to his ankles, then back up. All the time he gasped, then moaned, then cried out as the leather bit into his flesh. Every time she hit him stung and burned then ached. When she stopped he was covered in dark welts like bruises. A few places were bleeding; others had blood at the surface. And he was in agony. As quick as her anger had come, it was gone. She smiled again. She gave him water, then smoothed his hair back. "You get some more sleep, Fox," she said. "When you wake up maybe I'll put something on your welts, if you're good. Just don't make any more mistakes today. I really want to keep you. We'll wait until you're a little better before we do anything else." She bent down to him, her lips meeting his. Mulder was past the point of resisting anything. He opened his mouth, a moan escaping him as she kissed him. She brushed his face tenderly, covering him with a soft blue blanket before she left. When she was gone the tears that he had been struggling to keep in would no longer be denied and he began to sob. He turned his face into the pillow, letting himself have this release. His entire body was burning, aching. He bit his lower lip to try and stop his crying. He was afraid of losing it again and ending up like the others. He couldn't. He had to be obedient. Had to buy more time. He thought of Scully, how she was trying to find him. How much he wanted to see her, touch her. He was afraid he might never get the chance. "Please, Scully," he begged out loud. "Please find me. Help me. I need you...I love you..." ======= Scully had decided that her new purpose in life, other than finding Mulder, was to pace. She was doing an excellent job of it. She sighed. Skinner was understandably worried, standing by for whatever she needed him to do. She needed for someone-ANYONE-to find Mulder. She knew Mulder would analyze his kidnapper, would do whatever he had to do for time. But if the pattern held, he would be dead within twelve hours. She had that much time to find him. "Damn you," she swore again. Always taking off, freeing psycho killers, charging into houses... and this could be the time that was his fatal mistake. 'And what about you, Dana?' A voice in her head asked. 'Didn't you go running off with the cigarette smoking man?' 'That was different,' she said. 'Maybe. But you've done a little of that yourself.' "I don't have time for this," she muttered aloud. She was waiting while the prints were being checked. It left her nothing to do but pace and think of Mulder. Loving him was hard. Loving him and not telling him was harder. But she couldn't risk it, couldn't take the chance of him saying he was sorry he didn't feel the same way. So she had kept silent for the past few years, happy just to be with him. But now... what if he died never knowing how she felt? What if it would have made a difference? What if she couldn't find him in time and then had to take his mutilated body back to D.C. with her? How could she live with that? Her eyes grew dark and wet with tears. 'Please, God,' she begged. 'Please let me find him. I'll tell him, I promise. Just let him be all right. Let me bring him home...' "Miss Scully!" She turned to see Larson grinning like a maniac. "We found a match!" She walked into the next room to the monitor, heart racing. Yes, it was a match all right. For the woman's prints. "Seems that two years ago she worked as a secretary for the prison in Montgomery." Scully read the information. "Denise Tolbert. Can you get a current address?" "Running her through now." Time seemed to stop as the system checked for the information. Just as Scully was ready to scream and hit the computer, black letters flashed up on the white background. "Thirty-seven Pine Valley Road." "That's about forty minutes from here," Larson said. "Then let's go. Get backup to meet us there. We'll bust in." "Without a warrant?" Scully looked him square in the eyes. She held up her badge in one hand. "This is my warrant. We're wasting time." She ran out to her car with Larson following, shaking his head. ===== Mulder was dreaming. He was standing in the woods. It was dark. Scully was standing in front of him. He was talking to her, trying to explain things to her, but it was so windy she couldn't hear him. He moved closer so she could hear him. Just as he did the ground split and swallowed her up. He was on his hands and knees, clawing at the dirt, screaming her name when he jerked awake. It took him a second to remember where he was. The pain came back to assault him. He moaned feebly. "Awake again, Fox? Good." His eyes flew to her. She was wearing a pink robe, and from what he could tell nothing else. She held a small silver jar. She sat beside him on the bed and looked at him. "Are you still in pain?" "Yes, Mistress," he answered. "This will help. It's a strong topical analgesic that they use for burn victims." And she began to rub it into his body. This time he kept his eyes open, filled with new determination. He wasn't going to end up dead. Wasn't going to leave Scully like that no matter what this woman did. He would endure it to stay alive. The cream helped; after a few minutes the pain eased considerably. "Thank you, Mistress," he said. "You're welcome, Fox. I want you to be good so I don't have to hurt you again, ok?" "I'll be good," he told her. She smiled. "Now that you're not hurting so much, it's time." As Mulder stared dully, she stood and removed her robe. He saw that she was indeed nude beneath it. But what was she planning on doing? She lay down beside him, slithering down on the bed to take him into her mouth again. She touched and sucked him, and he thought of Scully again until he was erect. Suddenly she moved up. He looked at her in panic. She unrolled a condom and put it on him. She straddled him, and as he watched in sickened helplessness she slid him inside her. She began rocking against him. He shut his eyes, his humiliation complete. He wanted to scream, do anything he could to stop this. 'Raped,' he thought, stunned. 'I'm being raped.' He opened his mouth to speak, and she began kissing him, stopping any protest he might have made. His mind was a rage of emotions; shame, anger, revulsion, fear. He fought for control. 'Think of Scully,' he told himself. And he repeated her name over and over in his head like a mantra as his body trembled with shame and fear. He forced himself not to struggle, to allow himself to be violated. To make things worse, his body was responding to the sexual stimulus. He realized he was going to climax. He kept his mind locked safely in the fantasy of his partner as his body was urged to a finish. When he came he cried out into the mouth of his captor, shuddering as he felt him empty himself into her. He fought down his nausea as it happened, felt his climax trigger one in her. After a few seconds she slid off of him, looking at him with a smile of contentment and victory. "Wonderful. You're wonderful, Fox." He looked back at her, eyes dulled with shock and pain but remembering what he needed to do. "I'm glad I pleased you, Mistress." "Oh, yes. You certainly did. I'm going to take a shower. Then I'll come bathe you." She took the condom off, throwing it into a wastebasket near the bed. She ran her fingers along his jaw, then rose from the bed and left. Alone again, he wanted to cry, but there were no more tears in him. Only an aching despair. How much would he have to endure? How long before he was found? IF he was found. He was tired, numb inside, still in pain somewhat. His mind was exhausted. He would sleep for awhile. When he woke up he would think of a plan to escape. "Mulder?" Mulder heard Scully's voice. It was nice to be dreaming of her again. He hoped this dream would be better. "Mulder, can you hear me? Mulder, wake up!" 'This isn't a dream,' he realized with a jolt. And he opened his eyes to see his beloved Scully staring down at him, worry and joy shining in her blue eyes. "Scully..." "Mulder... what did she do to you?" Scully was unlocking him from the handcuffs. She had pulled a sheet over him. He shook his head. Scully sighed. She was elated at finding him alive, but now there were new questions. Like why he was naked, covered in marks that suggested he'd been beaten. And worst of all, seeing the condom in the trash and the traces of sexual fluids she'd wiped off of him. Mulder turned, noticed Larson standing at the stairs, his back to the room. He was obviously trying to give them some privacy. Either that or he couldn't handle looking at Mulder in his condition. Mulder didn't know if HE could handle his condition. When Scully had freed him, he sat up, rubbing his wrists. The sheet fell to his waist, exposing his injuries. He saw Scully looking at him. "Riding crop," he said tonelessly. She breathed a gasp of horror. "How did you find me?" Mulder asked to distract her. "He... and she... left fingerprints on the pipe you were struck with. We got a match for them as the woman, Denise Tolbert. Found her address." "So you know that she can gendermorph." "Could," Scully said after a pause. He looked confused. "She's dead, Mulder. When we came in she pulled a gun. I shot her." He nodded. "I understand. Which form? After death?" "Female. That will make it much easier to explain to the police." He nodded again, then looked at her. "Um, Scully? My clothes... they're gone." "One of the deputies is getting you some." He managed a weak smile. "Thanks." "No problem, partner." Time stopped as they looked at each other. Mulder's Apartment Thursday, 7 P.M. Scully stood outside the door of Mulder's apartment, feeling nervous. She didn't know why; she'd been to his place plenty of times. Maybe it was because of the mysterious message he'd left on her machine. He only said for her to wear "that dress" again and be at his place at seven. Since they'd come home it had been nothing but reports and files to close the case, and she'd made Mulder stay home to recover while she took care of the work. Late last night he'd finally told her the details. Not that she hadn't guessed the basics. But him telling her about his whipping, the rape-it had left her stunned. She'd held him as he cried, her heart breaking for what he'd endured. She'd murmured softly to him, telling him he was home now, it was okay, she'd help him get through it. He asked her to stay with him, and she hadn't hesitated. They slept in his bed, her holding him and thinking about her promise. She had to keep it. She wanted to keep it. She'd gotten up that morning to go to the office, waking him to tell him. He'd brushed his lips to her forehead and mumbled: "Have a nice day, honey," before falling back asleep. She checked on him twice during the day. Then he called right before she left and told her there was a secret message waiting for her at home. When she played it she'd been puzzled, but had done as he asked. Now she was stalling. 'Stop being ridiculous, Dana,' she ordered herself and knocked on his door. He opened the door immediately, as though he'd been standing waiting for her to knock. He was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a gold t-shirt, hair still wet from the shower. Her heart skipped then began beating fast. She took a deep breath. "Hi." He smiled. He still looked a bit pale, drawn, but otherwise he was her Mulder. "Hi yourself. Ready to go?' "Where are we going?" She asked. "You'll see." At her look of mild exasperation he said: "It's a surprise. Humor an old man, Scully." "Okay, Grandpa." He took her to Karaoke Corner in Arlington. She was confused, but didn't press him. She knew Mulder well enough to know he had to have some method to his madness. He took her hand as they went inside. Her skin tingled from the contact. They sat down in a corner booth for a minute, then Mulder rose. "I'll be right back. What do you want to drink?" Scully debated for a moment, then surprised herself by saying: "Jack and coke." He seemed surprised as well, but his eyes twinkled. He left and made his way towards the bar, stopping to write something on a piece of paper and hand it to the man near the karaoke machines. He also handed him some money, or it looked that way as she strained to watch. When Mulder started to walk back to her she quickly turned away so he wouldn't know. He slid back into the booth next to her, handing her the Jack and coke. Amazingly, he was drinking a pina colada. "Going tropical on me?" She asked. "One for each hand, Scully, except then I couldn't have carried your drink, too. So one for one hand." She said nothing, only sipped her drink and pondered his seemingly happy mood. But there was no trace of it being an act. "Patience, Scully," he said with a smile, as though he knew what she was thinking. She nodded. They drank and listened to the songs being performed. After about 15 minutes the MC took the microphone from the last performer and looked out into the crowd. "Ladies and gentleman, I don't want you to think we can be bribed. But about 20 minutes ago a gentleman gave us fifty bucks to be put on priority, and that is a lot of money, so he must have a good reason. Mulder, come on up." Scully whirled and stared at her partner, shock painted on her face brighter than any makeup could be. He smiled at her. "My public awaits." As he got up and started towards the center of the room he turned and looked at her. "Pay attention, Scully. This one's for you." And as she watched he took the mike, conferred with the man working the machines, and waited. The lights dimmed again and music began to play. Scully recognized the song, and her mouth opened as she went numb. Mulder stood where he could watch her and when his cue came he began to sing. "Well I just heard The news today It seems my life Is gonna change I close my eyes Begin to pray As tears of joy Stream down my face With arms wide open Beneath the sunlight Welcome to this place I'll show you everything With arms wide open." Scully felt tears forming, but she didn't give a damn. At that moment her entire world ceased to exist except for the man singing to her. Mulder began the second verse, his voice strong and perfectly on-pitch. "Well I don't know If I'm ready To be the man I have to be I take a breath I take her by my side We stand in all We create in life With arms wide open Beneath the sunlight Welcome to this place I'll show you everything With arms wide open Now everything has changed I'll show you love I'll show you everything With arms wide open." The instrumental began. Now Scully felt the drops of salty water flowing down her cheeks. But all she could do was stare at Mulder. He stared back at her, his own eyes looking a little misty. He smiled quickly before his cue came again. "If I had just one wish Only one demand I hope he's not like me I hope he understands That he can take his life Take it by the hand And he can greet your world With arms wide open With arms wide open Beneath the sunlight Welcome to this place I'll show you everything With arms wide open Now everything has changed I'll show you love I'll show you everything With arms wide open Wide open." ===== They didn't talk much on the way back to Mulder's apartment, just rode in companionable silence, each very aware of the other's physical presence. Once they got back Mulder didn't even ask Scully if she wanted to come in; just held the door open for her as she did. He turned off all the lights and lit several candles, turning on the stereo and putting on some quiet jazz music. Scully raised her eyebrows at him, but didn't comment. She sat on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her, smoothing down the dress. Mulder sat beside her after bringing two glasses of Pepsi and putting them on the coffee table. For a few minutes they did nothing but sip and stare until Scully couldn't stand it any longer and put down her glass. "Mulder, there's something I need to tell you." "What, that I made a complete fool out of myself at the bar?" He asked flippantly, but she could hear the fear and pain behind the question. "No, you didn't. But that does relate to what I need to say." "Look, Scully-" "Mulder, would you for once in your life shut up and let me finish a sentence?" He shut up, round-eyed. She would have laughed if the situation weren't so serious. As it was she smothered a smile, gathering her thoughts. When she spoke again her voice was quiet but determined. "Mulder when you were taken and I was trying to find you, it made me do a lot of thinking. About us. And I made a promise that I need to, and want to, keep." "Scully what are you talking about?" He asked, confused. She took a deep breath. "What I'm talking about is..." He waited. Her eyes met his as she said: "I love you." A thousand expressions ran across his face: shock, delight, joy, relief. "You do?" He whispered. "Yes, I-God, this is hard!" She laughed self-consciously for a moment. "Mulder I've loved you for years. But I was too afraid to tell you." "You really mean this? Scully, tell me you really mean this," he begged. "I mean it, Mulder. I was afraid you didn't feel the same way and I couldn't... I didn't want to lose you as a friend. But I'm through with being afraid. When you were gone I knew that even if you didn't love me back that I had to tell you if I got the chance." She took another deep breath. "So now I've told you." "Scully..." In two seconds Mulder had her pulled to him, wrapping her in his arms as though he thought she might somehow vanish into thin air. He buried his face in her hair as he said: "Oh, Scully, you have no idea how much I love you." She pulled back to look at him, eyes shining with happiness. "You do?" "Didn't you know? How many ways did I have to show you for you to see it? I thought I did everything but rent a billboard." "Well, that might have helped." Mulder groaned. "Now you decide to develop a sense of humor." He pulled her to him, looking into her eyes. "I love you, Dana Catherine Scully." "I love you too, William Fox Mulder," she replied softly. He grinned like he had the night he first saw her in the dress. "So, uh, now that we know we love each other what do we do?" Scully moved onto his lap, lifting her face up to his. "I can think of a few things," she murmured. He brought his mouth slowly down to hers. He had waited a long time for this. And as he went to kiss her an image of Denise Tolbert flashed through his mind and he jerked away. "Mulder?" She looked afraid. "Oh, jeez, Scully, no, it's not you," he whispered and held her close. "I saw..." "Denise Tolbert," she finished. "Yeah. I'm sorry, Scully." "Don't be sorry, Mulder. My God, the woman beat you and raped you a few days ago. Nobody expects you to be over that, least of all me." He nodded. She spoke again. "Mulder, maybe you should consider-" "No," he said. "I don't want to go to any doctor for this, Scully. There's nothing they can do for me that I can't do for myself. I just need time. And your patience and love" She smiled at him. "You have that." "Then I'll be fine." She nodded. He looked at her almost shyly. "Will you stay with me tonight, Scully?" "Yes." Mulder woke up from a dream. He had Scully were taking a carriage ride down on old English street. They were smiling and laughing. Everything was perfect, so naturally he had been waiting for something to screw it up. But nothing did. He smiled as he looked at her and realized she was curled up against him, clad only in her underwear and one of his T-Shirts. He was wearing boxers and nothing else. Looking at her while she slept, red-gold hair framing her face, lips parted, he was struck with a sudden rush of desire for her. He knew he wanted her more than anything else in the world. And he didn't want to wait any longer. He leaned down and kissed her. She opened her mouth a bit more, still asleep, and he began kissing her in earnest. Scully felt Mulder's lips on hers; she opened dazed blue eyes to stare into his green ones. He pulled back a bit and smiled. "Hi, sleeping beauty," he whispered. "Are you my handsome prince?" She murmured, arching against him. He felt his body's immediate response to hers. He ran his hands down her back, pulling her even closer. "I don't know about being a prince, but I AM handsome." "And to think anyone would accuse you of arrogance," she replied. "Some people have their nerve," he agreed, and the grin on her face matched his as they came together for another kiss. When they separated again she looked at him with an expression of concern. "Mulder, are you sure you're ready for this? I don't want to rush you..." "I'm sure. I'm as sure as I've ever been in my life." She continued to look skeptical. He decided he would just have to show her. Slowly his hands traveled down her body, caressing as they went. He pulled his T-shirt off her, baring her upper body to him. His eyes glittered as they took in her full breasts, round and soft with pink nipples. He bent his head to them, licking and kissing first one, then the other, while she moaned and arched against him. His tongue traced lazy circles as his fingers kneaded and stroked. Scully thought she was on fire. He slid his hands on down to her dark blue cotton panties. As gently as before he removed this last barrier to her skin. She lay bare before him, part of her feeling stupidly embarrassed, part enjoying the way he was looking at her. Then he spoke and took any apprehensions or shyness she might have had away. "Scully you are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." She couldn't stop herself from beaming. He smiled back before he bent to kiss her again. He spent the next half hour just touching, kissing and nibbling her, from her earlobes to her tiny toes. She lay beneath him in total bliss, the fire she'd felt at the beginning spreading into an inferno of aching need. She felt safe and whole with him, the way she now knew he felt with her. She wanted to take everything he was into herself, give him everything that she was in return. She gently pushed him beside her on the bed. At his look of confusion she grinned wickedly. "My turn." "Scully I had no idea you were a closet dominatrix." But he lay still, waiting for her to do whatever she wanted. The main thing she wanted was to rip his boxers off, but she controlled her urge. This was their first time and dammit, she was going to make sure she would be the only woman he would want to think about ever again. Instead she began gently running her fingers through his hair, encouraged by his soft moan of enjoyment. Her fingers trailed down his face, her lips following them. She worked her way down to his chest, loving the feel of his smooth muscles. She rubbed his nipples between two fingers, causing him to moan again as they hardened beneath her touch. She licked them, then blew on them. He gasped. She continued further down, tugging at his boxers while licking his navel with a warm moist tongue. He raised his hips to help her get them off, and then he, too, was naked. She caught her breath at the sight of him, sleek and hard and hungry for her. She traced his hipbones, his thighs, but she hesitated to put her mouth completely on him after what he'd told her Denise Tolbert had done. He realized this and said: "It's okay, Scully." After a seconds hesitation she took him gently into her mouth, snaking her tongue up and down him as she did. Mulder jerked beneath her in soundless pleasure. This time it wasn't a fantasy or a dream. It was really Scully with him. Now and always. "Scully..." he breathed after a minute. "If you don't stop, Mr. Wiggly is gonna lose it." Scully moved off him and laughed so hard tears came to her eyes. "Mr. Wiggly?" She gasped. He shrugged sheepishly. "Seemed like as good a name as any when I was 16." She smiled. "Who am I to judge." He growled at her, then turned her onto her back. He was still hard. She opened herself to him. Eyes locked together, he entered her welcoming warmth. Time stopped for them; held itself in place as they moved as one body and soul. Even when they closed their eyes they could still see each other. Holding each other tight they rode wave after wave of ecstasy, crashing to the surface only to be swept back up again. When Scully cried out his name, digging her nails into his back, he followed her out into the depths; calling out to her repeatedly as her climax triggered his own. When they were finally spent, they lay holding each other, bathed in sweat and satisfaction. Mulder peered down into her eyes. "Hi, partner." "Hi yourself," she yawned. "Need another nap, Scully?" "Mmm. That sounds good. Want to have lots of energy for later." He couldn't resist. "What happens later?" She licked her lips, staring back at him. "I'm going to fuck you like an animal." "In that case, I think we'd BOTH better take a nap." "I knew you were a bright boy, Mulder." ===== They called me mad, and I called them mad, and damn them, they outvoted me. -Nathaniel Lee (on being consigned to a mental institution, circa 17th c.)