From: msbrooklyn@aol.com (MsBrooklyn) Title: Indecent Obsessions Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Alex Krycek, and Phoebe Green are all created/copyrighted and merchandised by our beloved leader, Chris Carter, who had no idea what he started when he invented these lovely characters. No permission, but no lawsuits, either, because why turn down free publicity? Ellen Feldman and Winky the Cat are mine. Indecent Obsessions by Ms. Brooklyn It started innocently enough. When Ellen Feldman came back from her lunch break, a dozen roses in a crystal vase were sitting on her desk. No card. No explanation. And nobody could recall seeing the flowers delivered. A smile crossed her face as she dialed the four number in-house extension that she committed to memory even before her first week on the job. He answered on the second ring. "Mulder." "Thanks." "For what?" Ellen laughed softly. "You know damned well, Mulder." "No." He sounded genuinely confused. "Are you still happy about last night?" "Well, yeah, but that's not why I'm calling." "Can you explain it to me?" "The flowers," she prompted. "That was very sweet of you. How did you sneak them in without anybody noticing?" "Flowers? I hate to tell you this, but they're not from me." "Oh. Never mind then." She started to hang up but heard him say her name. "What, Mulder?" "What kind of flowers, Feldman?" "Roses. Red ones." "You haven't been sneaking around behind my back, have you?" "Who has the strength after a night of being Mulderized?" Mulder chuckled on his end. "Mulderized? Is that what you're calling it?" "Considering I'm walking funny today, Ace, yeah." "Look, I'd love to chat, but I've got a ton of work. If you find out who your admirer is, tell me tonight." "Will do." She hung up the phone and stared at the flowers. Deep down, Ellen knew Mulder was not the type to dial 1-800-FLOWERS. So who was? When she arrived home that evening, there was a small package stuffed in her mailbox. After feeding Winky, Ellen opened it and was shocked to discover a pair of expensive earrings. No return address. This was getting weird. Too weird for her. Time to call in the expert on weirdness. Thank God he lived two doors down. She walked down the hall to Mulder's apartment and rapped on his door. Mulder had obviously just walked in the door and only had enough time to take off his jacket and loosen his tie, but he flashed her a slightly self-conscious smile that told her he was happy to see her. "Hi. C'mon in." He watched her walk. She did look a little stiff at that, he noted with a grin. Looked like he would have to be more careful with her. Ellen caught his stare and grinned back. "You putz!" "You're walking funny, cute stuff." "Shut up." Ellen winked at him. "I need your help, O great and powerful Mulder-man. I've gotten another gift from my secret admirer." "More flowers?" "No. Jewelry." "Jewelry?" Mulder arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure you haven't been sneaking around behind my back, Feldman?" "Mulder!" "Okay. Where is it?" Ellen handed Mulder a Ziploc bag containing the package and its contents. "It's got my prints on it and the postman's and probably the entire cast of the Brady Bunch." Mulder scowled when he got a good look at the earrings. "These diamonds are real." "Four points, if I'm not mistaken," she agreed. "Who have you been flirting with," he demanded. "Nobody! Why do you keep asking that? Would you tell a rape victim she was asking for it because she wore a minidress?" "That's not the same." "The hell it's not." Ellen poked a finger into Mulder's chest. "Some weirdo is sending me stuff and you're acting like I walk around naked in my apartment with the window shades open!" "Do you?" "You're there with me almost every night, you oughtta know!" "It looks like I don't know everything you've been up to, doesn't it," he shot back. "Who is he?" "That's what I'm asking you!" Ellen groaned and sank onto Mulder's couch. "This guy knows where I live and where I work. It makes me kinda nervous." Mulder's expression softened and he sat beside her. "Listen, Feldman, I have to go to Wisconsin with Scully for the next couple of days. If you think you'd feel safer, you and Winky can stay here while I'm gone." "That's okay..." "I insist. I'd feel safer. You're staying here and if you get more of these, don't open them. Take them to the office and have them checked first." Mulder cupped her chin in his hand. "Promise me?" "Thanks. Mind if I clean the place while you're gone?" "I was hoping you would." "Mulder!" There was another dozen roses on her desk the next morning and Ellen's tiny cubicle was starting to look like a florist's shop. With a slight shudder, she picked up the vase and brought it to the receptionist. "Here, Linda, for you." "Thanks, Ellen. They're gorgeous. Did Agent Mulder give those to you?" Linda, an older woman in her forties, smiled as she tried to elicit juicy details. The Spooky-Feldman romance was the object of much speculation in the Hoover building, particularly since Mulder was the agency oddball, but oh, what a hunk of an oddball! "Yeah," Ellen lied. "You should keep them, then." "I'm allergic. Besides, I'll thank him properly later." "Do tell." "I can't. You don't have the proper security clearance." It was nearly eleven o'clock and she was well into the brief she was writing when the phone on her desk rang. "Feldman." Silence. "Legal Division. Ellen Feldman speaking." Silence followed by a click. Her heart was pounding. No. It was probably a wrong number and she was becoming as paranoid as Mulder. And he would laugh at her anyway. There were no strange pieces of mail and she heaved a sigh as she slipped her key into Mulder's lock. Winky trotted out to greet her and she bent down to kiss him. "Hi, baby! Mommy missed you." "Raa-raaa." "I know. We'll probably go home tomorrow." Before she could open his can of cat food, the doorbell rang. "Who is it?" "UPS." Probably more of Mulder's movies that he denied owning. Ellen opened the door and the UPS man held out a bulky package. "The lady in 46 isn't home." Shit! It was for her. "Sure." She signed the receipt as F. Mulder and thanked the delivery guy. As soon as he was out of sight, she removed the yellow sticker from her door and went back to examine the box. Not too heavy. After reading about the Uni Bomber, there was no way she was taking a chance. Ellen fed Winky and put the package gingerly in her trunk, high tailing it back to the office. Allen Quagliana, the bombs specialist on duty frowned at her. "Sorry, Feldman, but unless you're an agent, I can't inspect this for you." Dammit! She took the package and got back in the elevator, pondering her next move. Skinner! He would authorize it. She went up to his office, but to her dismay, his secretary was gone. What was she going to do now? "Feldman?" Skinner walked back into his office. Looked like the big guy had to make a pit stop. "Is everything all right?" Suddenly, she felt like an idiot. "Yeah...I'm sorry, I shouldn't be bothering you." Skinner blocked her way. "It's no bother. Does the problem have to do with that package you're carrying?" She nodded and told him everything, starting with the flowers and ending with Quagliana's recitation of Bureau policy. The package in her hand was becoming a millstone around her neck. To her surprise, Skinner nodded sympathetically. "You're a single woman living alone. You have good cause to be concerned. Let's go down to Quagliana's office and see what's in that package." "Thank you, sir." "Well..." Quagliana rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. Looked like Feldman ran crying up to Skinner's office and Skinner took it upon himself to see that the package wasn't a gift from the Uni Bomber. "It's not a bomb." "What is it," Ellen asked. Quagliana tore the package open and held up naughty lingerie and a riding crop. "Gift from Mulder?" Ellen turned scarlet. No. The lingerie, yes. The riding crop, no. "I don't think so. Can we trace it?" The big man snorted. "Sorry. Lookit, Feldman, take it home with you and wear it for Spooky. This is silk and it looks expensive. No sense letting it go to waste." Skinner cleared his throat. "I don't think Agent Mulder, or any normal man for that matter, would appreciate it if his girlfriend wore something like that if another man picked it out." Ellen was about to agree, but she remembered Mulder's stash of porno magazines. If she could look at the label and then find an ad in one of those magazines, maybe she could trace her secret admirer. "I think I'll take Al's advice on this one, sir." There was something in Feldman's voice that made Skinner smile and he knew what she was thinking. He followed her to the elevator and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Do you need me to open Agent Mulder's office?" "I'd appreciate that." Skinner waited while Ellen rifled through the bottom drawer of the file cabinet behind Mulder's desk, where Scully, with a nod and a wink, told Ellen was where he kept his stash. Scully was right. She flipped rapidly through, a look of slight disgust on her face. Then again, Mulder hadn't the time to read these or watch those nasty movies since they started seeing each other. At one point, he suggested they watch one together, but they had only been seeing each other a couple of weeks and the idea made her nervous; what if he wanted her to do the things they did in those movies? He understood her reluctance and did not insist. Maybe, when he got back she would suggest it and see what he found so fascinating. These women did not look natural. Look! You could see the scars from her boob job! Ah, here were some ads now..... She snatched a legal pad from Mulder's desk and copied the phone numbers. Hopefully, this would put her on the right track. She put the magazines back where she found them, right next to a small stash of movies with titles that challenged the obscenity standards of the First Amendment. What in God's name did a smart, attractive man like Mulder need those for when women would throw themselves at him? Granted, Mulder lacked some---most of the social graces, but so did she. Maybe that's why they got along so well. Ellen's knees cracked as she stood up. Okay, she wasn't twenty anymore. Skinner was watching her every move. "Did you find what you needed," he asked. Mulder's porn collection was something of an agency joke. One of the cleaning staff found him dozing in his office while three women cavorted on the screen. Eventually, the story found its way back to Skinner, who decided to let Mulder have his diversions, as long as nobody complained. Nobody did. "I hope so." She tore off the page from the legal pad and put it in her pocket. "It might be a good idea if I took you home," Skinner suggested. "Thank you, sir." Ellen frowned slightly. Her car was here. How the hell would she get in tomorrow? Cab? Let Skinner play the great protector. After all, she might need another favor. "I'm staying in Agent Mulder's apartment. He thought it might be a good idea." Skinner nodded. "But he's only a couple of apartments over. That isn't much safer if you're being stalked, Feldman. Why don't you stay with me?" "Sir, that's really not necessary....." Mulder was going to kill her. "I'll feel better, Feldman, do it for me." "All right, but my cat has to come, too. I can't leave him by himself." That's right. Feldman and her cat--inseparable. "Bring the cat." Skinner's house was immaculate and everything was in its place. Not bad at all. She felt awkward about being here, even more so after Skinner went into both her apartment while she retrieved clean clothes and Mulder's, where Winky waited impatiently. "Mew?" She kneeled next to the carrier and let Winky out. He poked his head out and mewed silently, not sure where the hell he was. "Come on, Wink-bomb, it's okay." "Raa-raa?" Skinner smiled at the exchange. "Come on, boy, nobody's going to hurt you." Winky trotted over to Skinner and sniffed the big man's legs. "Mew?" "Good boy." Skinner scratched Winky under the chin. "My daughter had a fluffy white cat. Snowball, she called it. Damned thing clawed the couch and ignored everybody, except at dinner time." "I brought his scratching post and he knows better than to destroy other people's property, right Winky?" "Raa-raaa." Winky freed himself and ran back into his carrier, curling up deep in its depths, watching the scene through a single, slightly narrowed eye. "He's scared," Ellen decided. "Give him time." "What did you do with that list of phone numbers, Feldman?" Skinner held out his hand, expectantly. She pulled it from her pocket. "I was planning on doing this later---" "We'll do it now." An hour later, they were no closer to the answer and Ellen was exhausted. Suddenly, she remembered that Mulder was going to check in with her and it was past the appointed time. He must be frantic! She dialed Mulder's apartment and played his messages. The first was Mulder. "Feldman. I hope you're working late, young lady. I'm going to call your office extension and then I'll try you again in half an hour. You'd better have a good excuse ready." The next message was a hang-up and the next one chilled her blood. She did not recognize the voice. "Ellen. That's not very nice, switching apartments. Did you think I wouldn't figure out that you'd stay with your boyfriend? But he's not there and you're all alone. Except for me and I'm watching you." Click. "Feldman. It's Mulder. Where the hell are you? My number at the motel is (414) 555-2314. That's the Appleton Motor Lodge. Call the minute you get in." Ellen hung up and stole a glance at Skinner. "Mind if I make a long-distance call? I'll be happy to reimburse you." "By all means, call Agent Mulder. He must be worried." Skinner left the room, his expression unreadable. She dialed the number and Mulder's sleepy voice greeted her. "Hi, sexy, it's me." "Where the hell were you," he demanded. "At the office. I got another package." "Do tell." "Nasty lingerie and a riding crop." "Riding crop? Jesus." She heard him sigh. "I want you to keep the door locked at all times, Feldman and I'm going to see if I can get extra patrols in the area." "No need. I'm not in your apartment." "You're not? Where the hell are you?" "Skinner's house." "Why?" "He insisted." "He what? How much does he know?" Ellen glared at the phone. Trust Mulder to get offended because she was letting someone else help her. "Everything. Quagliana wouldn't check out the package because I'm not an agent, so I asked Skinner for help." "Quagliana's a jerk." "Tell me that now." Ellen nibbled her lower lip. "Did you check your messages, Mulder?" "Should I?" "Yes, and call me back at (202) 555-5654." The phone rang two minutes later. "Hi." "Feldman, put Skinner on the phone. Now." "Mulder, you're making too big a deal out of this!" "Now!" She put the phone down and got Skinner, shrugging helplessly as she explained that Mulder asked to speak to him. Skinner picked up the receiver and motioned for her to leave the room. Ellen complied but she had a bad feeling about this.... Skinner followed her like a mother hen until he dropped her at the office the next day. She made a token appearance at her desk, a plan hatching in her mind. No new flowers, but there was a Federal Express Box. Ellen tore open the packing slip, relieved to find documents she requested from opposing counsel. Nothing more. Paranoid. That's what she got for dating Mulder. Then again, maybe paranoid was what she needed..... Langley froze when he heard knocking at the door. "Are either of you expecting anyone?" Byers and Frohicke shook their heads in reply. CIA? MI-5? Ex-KGB? Langley leaned against the door and spoke loudly. "Who is it?" "Ellen Feldman. Mulder's girlfriend." "Let her in," Frohicke encouraged. Byers opened the door and slammed it shut behind Feldman. She felt like the fly entering the spider's parlor. What HAD she been thinking? "Hello, gorgeous. Does Mulder know you decided to drop by?" Langley was watching her intently. "Mulder knows everything," she said, firmly. "I need your help. How do you track a package if there's no return address?" "Are you kidding?" Byers snorted. "Piece of cake. Where's the package?" She dug the empty packages from her briefcase and handed them over. "Some weirdo's been sending me stuff and I can't trace it beyond the postmark." "What kind of stuff," Frohicke asked. "Jewelry, flowers and a merry widow with a riding crop." Frohicke raised his eyebrows. "Did you bring that with you?" "Yes, is it important?" "Let's see." She pulled the merry widow and whip from the zipper compartment of her briefcase and handed them to Frohicke who dangled the items in front of the others. "Did you try it on," Byers asked. "No. Was I supposed to?" "Definitely. Go in the kitchen and put it on," Frohicke instructed. "And take the riding crop with you." Ellen started to go, but then paused. "Why am I doing this?" "There...uh....may be a clue sewn into the lace," Byers said, quickly. "You wouldn't be able to tell unless you put it on." Okay. Sounded reasonable to her. "Okay." Byers watched Ellen retreat into the kitchen and exchanged high-fives with the others. "Get the Polaroid." She felt ridiculous. At least she was wearing black thigh highs, so this didn't look too bad. Probably looked good. The boys were in the other room and a devilish smile crossed her face as she cracked the whip. Oooh! That was nice. When this was over, she was keeping the whip. Ellen curled the whip up and poked her head out of the kitchen. "I don't see any hidden messages, guys." "That's because you don't know what to look for." Byers readied the camera. "Come out and let us see." She slid her pumps back on and fairly strutted out there. What was it about sexy lingerie that did that to women? The flash of a camera nearly made her topple over! "Hey!!!" "Wow!!" Frohicke nearly drooled at the sight of her. Mulder was soooo lucky to have a woman who looked like that. Okay, maybe she didn't have the biggest breasts in the world, but man, what a nice body on that girl. "Give me that camera, you little worm," Ellen snarled. Byers tossed the picture to Langley. They wanted to play games? She cracked the whip, menacingly. "I said give it here!" "You can whip me, Feldman," Byers offered. "I won't tell Mulder." As she raised the whip again, Frohicke snapped more pictures. How was she going to explain this? What a total waste of time, Ellen huffed as she peeled out her parking space. She wasn't sure she got all of the pictures either and wouldn't it be her luck for them to digitize one and send it to Mulder. Or make it globally available? They would dis-bar her for sure! And those three morons didn't even bother trying to track her mystery man. Dammit! When she got back to the office, a long package from the florist was sitting on her chair. Angrily, she tore it open and nearly threw up when she was what was inside. A dead cat, that resembled Winky. It wasn't him and it took her a minute to calm down. She dialed Skinner's extension and got his secretary. "Bette? I have to speak with him right away. It's an emergency." "He told me to put you through, Ellen. Hold on." Skinner was in her cubicle in under a minute, glaring angrily at the package. Two agents accompanied him, eying her curiously. "Feldman, I want you to meet Agent Peters and Agent Montoya. They're taking your case." Skinner's tone left no room for argument. "Where were you when this package arrived?" "The law library." Good answer. She pointed to a stack of photocopies and attempted to dazzle them with legalese. "I needed to check some cites." Montoya frowned at the cat. "The heart's been cut out." "Great. I'll probably get that around lunch time," Ellen complained. Nobody laughed. Mulder would have, she thought bitterly. Hell, he would have had a recipe. She pushed Montoya aside and grabbed her legal pad, sketching the position of the cat's body and the way the chest was cut open. Some people did not have eidetic memories. Maybe this was an X-File. It was eight-fifteen in the morning and Mulder had just gotten out of the shower when the phone in his motel rang. "Mulder." "Where do you keep your files on animal mutilations?" "Feldman?" He was dripping on the carpet. "Why do you need my files?" "I got a dead cat today. It looked like W-w-winky." She sniffled into the phone, hating herself for losing it, but she started worrying about her baby, all alone in Skinner's house. "And...h-he cut out it's heart!" "Okay." Mulder ran a hand through his wet hair. "Calm down, Feldman. Did you call Skinner?" "Uh-huh." He could hear her blowing her nose and the sound struck him as amusing, despite the gravity of the situation. "What did he say?" "He assigned two guys to look at the case--uh, Peters and Montoya, but they didn't seem too enthusiastic. I think they're giving this low priority." No kidding. Those two knew him from his days in VCU and disliked him then. Skinner was trying to help, though, and Mulder appreciated it. "Have them fax me everything they find out about the cat, including pictures." "It's okay, Mulder, I don't wanna bother you and I'm sure they know what they're doing." Yeah, right. They hadn't said two words to her. "Bother me, Feldman." This guy, whoever he was, was escalating fast. "Understand? This is what I do best." "Mulder....there's something else...something I didn't tell Skinner." Uh-oh. Did he want to hear this? "What?" "I went to see the Gunmen to see if maybe they could help me trace the packages and...uh..." Oh, boy. This was hard. "And what," he prompted. "I told them about the lingerie and they tricked me into putting it on so they could look for hidden messages---" Mulder started laughing. "Feldman, you didn't!" "They have the pictures to prove it. You've got to stop them from posting them on the Internet before they destroy my career!" "I'll talk to them." Too funny. He was going to have to log on with Scully's laptop and check his e-mail. "Are you going to be all right?" "What are you gonna do? Come running home? You're solving a murder for God's sake!" "As long as I don't have to solve yours when I get home, Feldman. Don't do anything stupid." "Like trying to solve this myself?" "Exactly." Like hell. ___________________________________________________________ This was not Krycek. No, Krycek would simply drop in and kidnap her. So who else could it be? She pulled up a list of all of the cases she worked on and frowned when she saw the sheer volume. Okay, think, Feldman, think. Mail fraud cases. She could skip those. Securities fraud cases, same. Murders. Yes, she would start with those. Why her? She didn't prosecute them. She got their Federal tort claims dismissed, mainly or helped secure warrants. Well, she'd worry about the why when she narrowed it down to the dirtbags who didn't mind killing helpless animals or stalking helpless women. Ellen Feldman, however, was far from helpless. No matter what Fox Mulder or Walter Skinner thought. Three hours later, she had it narrowed down to four men who weren't presently in jail. All were serial killers. All of them represented themselves at their hearings and all of their claims were dismissed. She needed help. But she couldn't call Carmine in on this, not with Skinner breathing down her neck. Damn it all. Peters and Montoya refused to take her calls, insisting they were 'working on it'. Sighing, she got up and took a walk through the building, heading to the cafeteria for a Milky Way Dark. Chocolate would help her think more clearly. Certainly chocolate would---- "Hey!" Ellen looked up, startled. She walked right into....Cancerman? "Sorry." "Hmmmph." Gross, he smelled like stale cigarettes. Wait a minute.... "Yo! Wait!" Cancerman whirled, eyes narrowed. "What do you want?" "A favor." She smiled fetchingly. "Please?" This was the dumbest thing she'd ever done. Without a doubt. Ellen sipped her iced tea and watched the door to the restaurant. There he was. He came. Why was she so happy about that? "You wanted to see me?" Alex Krycek slid into the booth across from her, eying her warily. "Uh-huh." Ellen reached into her briefcase and handed him copies of the case files. She could get into serious trouble for this.... "Some nutcase is stalking me." "Where's Mulder?" "On a case. Skinner assigned Peters and Montoya to the this. You know anything about them?" "Jerks. Both of them." Krycek snorted with disgust. "Tell me why you think you're being stalked." Ellen told him, watching as his expression didn't change. Mulder would kill her if he knew about this. "At first, I thought it was you." "Not my style, Feldman. Not after our little date a few weeks ago. If I take care of this, you owe me another date." Krycek smiled winningly. "I'm not sleeping with you, Alex." "Agreed. But I want to take you out and show you a good time." It was like selling her soul to the devil. "Mulder has to be out of town." "Fair enough." "Done." He took her hand, stroking it, lovingly. "You'll have a good time." "Provided this psycho doesn't kill me first." "I'll make sure he doesn't." Something nagged at her... "Alex, why do you like me so much? I've shot you and beaten you up, insulted you...by all rights, you should want me dead." "You've got chutzpah, Feldman." Krycek grinned at her. "I've never met a woman like you and I would give anything to have you for myself." It was flattering. In a sick sort of way. "If nothing else, why don't we call a truce and at least be friends? You don't try to kill me and I don't try to kill you. Fair enough?" "Friends? I'd like that." Mulder would kill her for sure. She was midway through a motion to dismiss when her phone rang. "Feldman." "Hi. It's Alex. I think I've found him." "How?" "I can't answer that. Want me to kill him?" "No! I want him prosecuted. Give me a way to trace him." Krycek's sigh was not muffled by the phone. "You're such a pain in the ass, Feldman." "But ya love me, Mu---- uh, Alex." Ooops. "If you gave me half a chance, Ellen, I would show you how much." "You can start by telling me who it is." She was gonna get burned, playing with fire like this. "Ybarra. Tommy Ybarra. Drug dealer, murdered his wife and girlfriend. Claimed the agents who arrested him forced him to perform oral sex when they arrested him. Case ring a bell, Feldman?" Oh, yeah. Ybarra was a weasel and there was no proof to his claim. But, why would anyone bring such an outrageous claim if there wasn't a morsel of truth to it? She was doing her job, getting the claim dismissed. Nothing personal. Except Ybarra didn't see it that way. "I thought he was in jail." "He jumped bail." "And you found him?" "For you? Of course." That's it. Play it up big for her. She was going to be his someday. "Alex! You're the best!" "You're just realizing that now, Feldman?" She laughed softly. The man kidnapped her, tried to rape her, why was she laughing with him? Maybe because he was so earnest about the way he felt. "Nut." "Just nuts about you." "Stop that. We're friends, remember?" "Harry and Sally were friends, too." He had a point. She took the information straight up to Skinner. No way she was going to Peters and Montoya with this stuff. Skinner removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You've got a drug dealing thug who jumped bail, do you? How did you get his address?" "You don't wanna know." Skinner nodded. "I'll have the U.S. Marshals pick him up and we'll see if we can find something to connect him to you. Nice work, Feldman." "Thank you, sir." "By the way, Agent Mulder is on his way back. He's picking you up at my house tonight." Thank God. Mulder threw his arms around Ellen and swung her into the air, not caring that they were in Skinner's living room. "C'mere, you!" "Mulder! We're in Skin----" He shut her up with a kiss. Skinner smiled approvingly. Finally, Mulder let her go, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Tell me how you cracked the case, Feldman." "Buy me dinner and I'll tell you everything," she cooed. "Buy me a hot fudge sundae and I'll tell you which goal post Hoffa's buried under." "Take her home, Agent Mulder. And her cat." "I had a good time tonight." It was true. Dinner at a cozy Italian restaurant, cappuccino in a cafe to strains of classical music. A walk in the park. "Of course you did," he said. "You were with me." Ellen smiled. "Stop that. We can't do this again. Not for a while anyway." "I'll wait." Alex Krycek took her hand. "As long as you want me to." She had the strangest feeling he would. "Where the hell have you been?" Mulder's door flew open as soon as she got out of the elevator. "And who gave you the rose?" Holy hell! Had he been watching out the window? Thank God she had the good sense to make Alex leave her two blocks away. The only evidence of her night out was the single white rose Alex gave her. She was reluctant to throw it away. White roses meant friendship and even Krycek proved willing to come to her rescue. The man had some redeeming qualities. Ellen sniffed the rose and presented it to Mulder. "I got it for you." He took it, a curious expression on his face. "You trying to tell me something?" "Only that you're my friend." "Just a friend?" "My very best." She smiled up at him, her expression unreadable. "Really?" He took her hand and pulled her into his apartment. "Wanna prove it?" "How?" Mulder reached into a stack of papers on his desk and held up a Polaroid of Ellen in black lace waving a riding crop. "Still have this outfit?" "As a matter of fact, I do." She blushed anyway. And then she recalled a promise she made to herself. "If I put that on, wanna do something for me?" "Oh?" Mulder raised an eyebrow while he slid the picture back into its hiding place. It was a great shot and he wasn't going to risk Ellen swiping it later. "Remember when we started dating? It was our third date and you asked me if I would do something. I said maybe we'd try it another time. Do you remember what that was?" Mulder scratched his cheek and mentally ran through his dates with Ellen. Third date? What did he ask her? A smile crossed his face as he remembered. Feldman dropped by while he was watching one of THOSE movies and she blushed furiously when she realized what it was. He asked if she wanted to watch with him and Ellen, who was never at a loss for words, was only able to manage a vigorous head shake. He never asked again. Had he corrupted her that much? "Feldman, you little devil!" "You have no idea." Mulder shut the door behind her, wondering how he was going to survive during the half hour she requested to shower and change. The white rose laying on his coffee table caught his eye and he picked it up, carefully avoiding the thorns. She was his best friend. His very best. The end.