TITLE: Jealous Rival AUTHOR: Donnilee E-MAIL: Donnilee@snet.net WEBSITE: http://donnilee.tripod.com RATING: NC-17 CATEGORY: MSR - Krycek/Other SUMMARY: Sequel to J is for Jealousy. Someone's stalking Scully and threatening her. Can they figure out who it is before someone gets hurt? WARNING: This story contains scenes that depict graphic descriptions of rape, rape fantasies, incest and sexual abuse as well as bondage and anal sex with SECONDARY CHARACTERS. There is plenty of bad language and raw, graphic descriptions of sex. If this sort of thing bothers you, you may not want to read this fic. Many find these subjects disturbing or personally frightening. If you do, then please go read something else. I do not wish to upset anyone or receive flames for this fic. Anyone who has personal experience with abuse or incest ... I would recommend that you read something else. I have plenty of light, fluffy fics without these elements. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Don't tell me you weren't! Proceed with caution, all who are sexually squeamish. If you like light, fluffy, romantic stuff, this IS NOT YOUR FIC. Thanks for reading! SPOILERS: Lazarus, Fire, The End DISCLAIMER: Nope. Not mine. Used shamelessly and without remorse. They belong to Chris Carter, 1013 and Fox, and god knows who else, but not me. AUTHOR'S NOTE: I made a boo-boo in J is for Jealousy. I mentioned the Millenium kiss and then had Diana making a move on Mulder. And ... duh! ... Diana was dead by then. Ooppss! So for the purposes of this story, one must accept the convention that this takes place post Millenium and that Diana never croaked. (Not that that event broke my heart or anything!) DEDICATION: I've had lots of requests for this sequel. Among the noisiest are: Taty73, Tanya, Corran, Melanie, Song, Wendy and Babsi. So this one is for all seven of you! Thanks for your encouragement and continuing support. SPECIAL THANKS: As always, to Sdani, my wonderful beta reader. Thanks for all your time and effort. It's truly appreciated. She really put in the overtime on this one. I lost count of the number of drafts we swapped back and forth! Also a special thanks to Satina for helping out in a rough spot. PROLOGUE Fox Mulder's Journal November 24, 2001 Evil does not have horns on his head, a barbed tail and carry a pitchfork. Evil usually comes in the form of your unassuming family accountant, resident banker, or respected college professor. Evil usually doesn't wear a black face. Evil usually comes between the ages of 25-35, men who have had one woman early in their lives who laughed at the size of their penis, or told them that even an egg takes three minutes. Maybe they had a mother who was domineering and emasculating, who made them wear dresses while she pinned the hems. Most evil is made, but some, maybe is born. I'm not really sure. But what I do know is that we usually look for it in the wrong places. We do this because we don't want to believe that it isn't obvious to see. We want to believe we will recognize evil when it passes us on the street, or sits next to us at work. But we won't. Not until they make a mistake. And they always make a mistake ... eventually. It's the *eventually* part that's tough. Usually, before that happens, someone has to die. That's the way it works. Evil goes on about its life. Some people see evidence of the homicidal triad, all the signs of deviant behavior including cruelty to animals, starting fires and late bed wetting, abusive sexual behavior ... and they do nothing. Why? Because usually it is a family member that sees it and they don't want to believe that *their* child is evil. They don't want to believe that it can happen in their family, no matter how cruel they have been themselves. Or they don't know what it signifies. They don't know what it means, that it's a portent of things to come. A blend of disrespect, lack of communication and abuse create evil in our midst. Most killers feel disrespected, abused and out of control. Healthy human beings know that control is an illusion. There is no control over people, places and things. There is only control over our own behavior. We cannot change others unless they want to be changed or allow it. And if they are allowing it, then it is an illusion of control, not real in the truest sense of the word. It's when someone takes away a person's control over himself or herself though that the trouble comes in and is given birth. We need to feel that we have control over ourselves if nothing else. Without that, we cease to have an identity of our own. We see this in the battered women's syndrome, abused children, and many other offshoots. Sometimes it's transference of hatred from one figure, maybe parental, to another, the victim. Sometimes it's an escalating need for control, or both. Usually both. Killing gives evil the ultimate control. And that's what evil is all about ... hatred and control. In 'Star Wars, the Phantom Menace', Yoda said, "Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hatred. And hatred ... leads to suffering." And ... too much suffering and abuse can lead to murder. And sometimes, just sometimes, evil ... is a woman. Hatred breeds evil. There it is in a nutshell. Two days ago, evil came to visit. PART 1 (NC-17) Margaret Scully's Home Baltimore, MD Two Days Earlier Thanksgiving-Nov. 22, 2001 2:30 PM A mere three months ago, I was sitting home in my dark apartment with no company, wondering what my first set of holidays without either of my parents was going to be like. I had no one anymore. My mother had been the last. I was on the far side of six years without a romantic relationship and on the far side of five years since I'd had real sex. Then something bad turned into something good. My ex, Diana Fowley, decided to make a move for me. I knew she didn't want me. She merely wanted control and she had lost that, over me anyway. As usual, her timing was stellar and she lunged into a kiss before I knew what was happening. Scully happened to be approaching us in the parking garage at that very moment. She misinterpreted what she saw and groaned like she was going to be sick, saying something like, 'Oh God, No!', and she tried to flee. I followed her, of course, after shaking Diana off my tail. My partner of over six years had just tipped her hand. She was jealous. My head had spun with that knowledge and after nursing severely bruised ribs that she had given me for my efforts, I kissed her, right there in the office. And proceeded to tell her that if she wanted more from me, all she had to do was ask. I can still hear her plaintive, nervous voice asking, 'Is there anyone that could take you away from me?' I also remember feeling my heart turn over in my chest. While solving a case out in the Connecticut countryside, we had come together in a fiery collision of need and lust and longing. Now, here I was at the Scully family Thanksgiving dinner table, laughing with her in-laws and her brothers. Yes, even Bill was softening a bit. He was still wary, but he and Dana had talked and we had called a tentative truce. I felt welcome. I felt like I belonged. And I was getting fucked till my teeth rattled on a regular basis. That never hurts my disposition! Life couldn't have been better. As dinner broke up and we were saying our good byes, standing shaking hands in the driveway ... when all hell broke loose. XXXXXXXXXX ONE WEEK EARLIER OUTSIDE FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT ALEXANDRIA, VA I watched him walk inside with the bitch, his hand on her back, guiding her along the sidewalk. They were smiling at each other and I wanted to gag. I had lost control of the situation. I'd been given my assignment and I'd blown it. I'd moved too fast, counting on my past to make a difference and bridge the gap that had opened up when I'd make him a cuckold so many years ago. He'd always been like a faithful, little puppy. But something had changed since I'd been gone. He'd chased away numerous partners. I knew this since I'd kept tabs on him. He didn't know about that either. I'd never really loved him. And that hadn't changed. But I'd loved being with him. I'd loved having sex with him. He knew his way around a woman's body, and I knew all about the package inside those pants. I wanted it again. I would have it again. Maybe I could drug him? I thought. Or maybe I could just find a way to take the bitch out. Then I could be there, the supportive shoulder to cry on and weasel my way back in this time. I hated losing control. But even worse, I just plain hated losing. My employers had done something to me also. I wasn't sure what it was and I wasn't sure I cared. But it made me ambitious, and it made me crave the material comforts of life. It made me want power. That was one of the great things about our relationship. When we were having sex, I had all the power that the female can wield over a man. And it was a heady feeling. I wanted to feel that again. They had fixated me on him by giving me this assignment. I was to gain his trust, gain his bed, and then gain his secrets, find out what he knew about the alien/consortium plans. He still didn't have a clue that I was involved. I didn't think so anyway. The more I failed, the more obsessed I became with accomplishing my goal. I'd gotten his cooperation on the last case, and then walked away, knowing I'd blown it. But now, out of the blue, they'd called on me again. And there was more at stake this time. But that red headed bitch had gotten in the way ... right at the wrong time. He was resistant, but if she hadn't interfered, I probably could have gotten his hormones to override his brain the last time. I'd been so close! He was in love with her. That much was obvious. Obviously, they'd gotten together since the last time I came around. I watched him stop, swing her into his body and lay an open-mouthed kiss on her lips. She sagged against him. I didn't want to examine too closely the pang that gave me. I envied her. I wondered what it would be like to have someone love you that way, for you, not for the sex. At one time he loved me, but not like he loved her. And I'd told him that I loved him. What I really loved was the sex. So in a way, I did love him. But not the way he loved me. That would have meant surrendering a part of myself that I just couldn't let go of. Plus, I was into some weird stuff sexually and he would never have gone along. Now my current lover, he was a different story. He would do anything. He would probably be glad that I had failed. He was jealous of Fox Mulder anyway. He told me it would never work. He told me that Fox was in love with his partner and I would never break past the bond they had. But everybody had a weakness and she was his. And I needed to take her out of the equation and then use that as an excuse to get back into his life. This was risky. He'd nearly become suicidal the last time we took her. But I could probably help him through that period. I'd be the sympathetic, understanding old friend who would ease his pain with a little hanky panky. Just the thought of that fat cock sliding in and out of me made me wet. My lover was a fine lover ... but he wasn't Fox Mulder. I would have loved to goad him about it, but he was too unpredictable. He was violent when provoked and would brook no nonsense in that regard. He was dangerous, and that was part of what made him so exciting. He was pretty easy on the eyes too. Plus, he shared my little sadistic tendencies and we regularly indulged them. He would never admit his jealousy. However, he did things for me. I'm sure simply to prove that he could give me something that Fox Mulder never could. And he would be right. I also knew that deep down, he lusted after Dana Scully as much as I lusted after Fox Mulder. We were each other's substitutes, whatever that was worth. Thanksgiving was next week. I wondered where they were going. I'd find out. The phone was tapped in both of their apartments. That would probably be a good time. Their guard would be down on the holiday. They would be looking forward to a long weekend. I rubbed my hands together and then brushed them over my breasts, pushing hard to relieve the ache. I moaned out loud at the sensation. My head fell back and closed my eyes, trying to remember the last time we were together. His face flashed before me but then it changed. It became the hard, lined face of a man with dark, lush hair, an aristocratic nose, and hard, beautifully muscled body honed by hours in the gym. He loved his designer suits and damned if his six foot, four inch frame hadn't looked good in them. He was always the professional, rich businessman always well respected. He always smelled like sweet cigars and whiskey. I could remember the feel of him, hot and hard against my thigh. I could smell him now as my mind took flight. He was long dead and in the ground. Still these images haunted me. I felt the bile rise in my throat, as the phantom sensation of his huge prick jamming into my dry core make me suck in an involuntary breath and brace for the pain that wasn't there. As always, to my horror, I felt my crotch flood with wetness as I remembered looking down between my then narrow girl's hips and seeing his 9" cock, fat as his wrist, hanging between my legs. His muscular thighs, pressed together were wider than my hips. I hadn't grown yet, was still under 5 feet. In my mind, I was there again, all over again. I was twelve years old with my breasts recently formed. I'd been pretty well developed for my age though, wearing a 30B. I was quite a bit bigger now. I could remember his fists in my hair, my knees suspended with ties to the headboard as I lay on my back, spread eagle, my legs spread wide, my sex exposed. He would tie me when I wouldn't give in. He never stimulated me. He would just pounce, slam his prick into me and grunt and rut until he came, leaving me stretched and sore. Sometimes he would talk, saying things like, "Oh you're such a good girl, daddy's girl. Love you so much. Tell me you love me, baby doll." I pinched my nipples through the thin sweater I wore, trying to picture Fox Mulder's face, but to my horror, or delight, I wasn't sure, the visage of the dark-haired business man that nobody ever really knew was still there, mouth nearly drooling above me, rutting like a drunk pig, mouth open in a rictus of ecstasy. I would feel the skin inside sting with the brutal intrusion. I groaned as I relived it now, the feeling of my hair nearly ripped out of my scalp as he neared completion, my screams reverberating off the walls as the pain consumed me. He loved to hear me scream. It made him wild. My hands slid inside my shirt and under my bra. I pinched my nipples ruthlessly, simulating the almost forgotten sensation of when he would bite my nipples, jerking spasmodically as he emptied himself into me with a deep groan, making me scream that I loved him and wanted him to fuck me. I felt the bile in my throat again and at the same time, I felt my orgasm wash over me, my empty core walls fluttering against nothing. After the first couple of years, he'd been a little tender with me once or twice and that's all it took. I'd started coming for him every time, riddled with guilt and shame afterwards that he had given me pleasure, that I had found pleasure in the pain. I was 12 years old when I had my first orgasm. He came to me even more frequently after that. I panted as I came down, smoothing my clothing back in place. I coughed and swallowed hard. Shit. It had been a while since I'd had that fantasy. But lately, I had it more and more. I looked around and noticed that the sun had set. I glanced at my watch, surprised to see that it was 7:30 PM and nearly dark out. How long had I been lost in my little world? That was dangerous. Anyone could have walked by and saw me. I wondered how could something so traumatic at the time, could bring me such perverse pleasure now? I was sick. I knew it, but had no desire to change it. He was dead and there was a perverse feeling of power in letting his memory give me pleasure rather than pain. There had been only pain and humiliation then, mixed with a perverse desire to please him. He'd never tried to give me pleasure on purpose, but I'd found pleasure anyway. Then the guilt and self-loathing was tremendous. He'd had a big dick and by the time I left for college, my cunt was well stretched. All my lovers after that had been smaller and much less satisfying. Then Fox Mulder had come along and he was even bigger than my father was. For the first time since childhood, a man had been able to bring me to orgasm. After that I was hooked, like a junkie that needed a regular fix. I don't think I'd gone more than a couple of weeks without sex since then. I'd take anyone I could get as long as they weren't physically repulsive. It was like Fox Mulder had opened a floodgate in my body and after that it took less and less to make me come. I'd become addicted to the power it gave me over men. I'd even resorted to paying for it few times but I had to have it. Now I had my lover and that expense had become unnecessary. I was meeting my lover tonight and now the blood was pumping in my veins. I needed a good stiff cock inside me and I needed to relive this again. And he was going to help me. XXXXXXXXXX WATERGATE APARTMENTS WASHINGTON, D.C. LATER THAT EVENING I heard the knock on the door and peeked out the peephole. I undid the chain and opened the door. He stepped in, wearing all black. His jeans, turtleneck and leather jacket was all black. He wore his usual cocky grin. I planned to wipe that off his face. I shut the door and locked it without saying a word. He looked around and raised his eyebrows in question. He knew what I wanted. I'd told him over the telephone. "Do you have it?" I asked. He nodded, grinning and pulled his hand out of his leather jacket. He handed me the cassette tape and I smiled as I looked down at it. The label said, 'Dana Scully, AB1995.' "Did you edit it?" "Yes, this is a copy, I couldn't alter the original. I just re-recorded the good parts for you." "Good," I whispered, already feeling my nipples harden. I walked in the bedroom without looking back. I heard his jacket thrown over a chair and he followed me in. Without a word we undressed. When I was naked I crawled up on the bed and lay on my back. He straddled me and picked up the fur cuffs on the bed, wrapping them around my wrists and slipping the ties into the eyehooks on the headboard. He then picked up the parachute chord and wrapped it around my thigh after placing a gauze sheath underneath it so my skin wouldn't chaffe. He pulled my leg high and wide and tied it to the headboard then repeated the process with the other leg. My breasts jutted up as I arched my back, feeling my arms start to ache from being stretched straight up. Juices were flowing out of my cunt already and coating the inside of my thighs and the crack of my ass. My gaping red sex was exposed to the cool air. He blew lightly on me and I trembled. "Bastard," I whispered. He just chuckled and got off the bed, leaving me in my vulnerable position. I turned my head, although it strained my shoulders and watched as he strode to the portable cassette deck on the nightstand. "How loud?" he asked conversationally. I drew in a deep breath. "Set it on six. I want it loud, but I don't want the neighbors calling the cops." He chuckled and it was dark sound. "No, we wouldn't want that now, would we?" He adjusted the volume and hit play. He walked back to the bed as I heard the silence of the tape. "What's that?" I asked. He grinned. "I left a little lead time on the front of the tape so I could prepare." I breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, O.K." "You are one sick lady, you know that?" I smiled at him. "That one of the reasons you love me," I teased. He gave me an odd look and swallowed. I opened my mouth, not sure what I was going to say. I wondered if he had genuine feelings for me? Probably just wishful thinking. "Now shut the fuck up," he said, easily sliding into his role, not letting me voice my question. I felt my brain go fuzzy as I slipped into my role, and felt the anxiety and the excitement of being ten, eleven and twelve again. Scared but feeling so grown up. "Please, not again. It's too soon. I'm still sore," I squeaked out feeling another gush of wetness below. Even as I watched him place the extender on his dick that made him an inch longer and half again as wide, I didn't really register the sight. The long hard pink penis extender was made of durable plastic and was covered with nubs of plastic about the size of a pencil eraser. The stimulation was fabulous. And with this on, he was the exact size I needed him to be. He was becoming my fantasy, my nemesis, my torturer, and my pleasure. I stared wide-eyed as he prepared, pulling the wig on easily over his close- cropped hair. The wig was lush but combed. He leaned over to the bedside table, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it, smoking jauntily and taking his time. He got off the bed and I whimpered as my eyes followed him. He strode to the dresser, flexing his ass muscles for my benefit and picking up the bottle of whiskey I'd left there. He drank generously a couple of times, swirling the liquid in his mouth before swallowing and then finished his cigarette. He half stubbed it out in the ashtray, leaving some embers burning, so the smell of burnt tobacco and smoke filled the room. His voice lowered as he climbed onto the bed, running his hand up and down my thighs as he stared at my gaping cunt. "Oh, baby doll, I'm going to fuck you so good. Again. You ready?" My pussy lips were swollen and wet now, hanging open, grasping desperately at the cool air. I whimpered again. "Tell me how much you want me. Tell Daddy how much you love me." "No! Please, no!" I cried, my voice pathetically weak as I transformed into my former self. In my mind, part of me opened a door and went inside. The other me emerged and looked out of my eyes, taking over, ready to take the abuse so that the real me didn't have to. And the real me wouldn't have to acknowledge exactly how messed up this whole thing was. "Wrong answer, baby doll," he growled. He pounced, his knees bouncing on the bed as he leaned over me in one swift motion, grabbing two fistfuls of my long hair tight against my scalp, lifting his hips. Without preliminaries, he plunged himself inside me right to the hilt. The hard, unforgiving plastic slamming my tender skin open and the nubs of the extender scraping my core walls. I cried out, "Aaaaahhhhh, no!" "Aaahhh, YES!" he growled and began to pound me unmercifully, using my hair as reins for leverage as he jerked his hips against me, burying himself over and over again. "That's my girl. Love you so much. Tell me you love me, baby doll." I shrieked, and just then the tape kicked in. The melodious sound of high-pitched screaming floated out of the cassette deck and blended with my own cries. The surround sound speakers in the canopy of the headboard provided a cocoon of sound. "Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Muullddeerr!" the tape cried. His yanked hard on my hair and my head was forced back so that I was staring up at the mirrors in the canopy of bed. I couldn't see his face, only the bushy black hair, so familiar, and the feel of his super hard cock plunging into me was fabulous, making me feel twelve, small and making my cunt feel tight again like it was back then. My head reared back and my arched back put my boobs directly in his face. He lowered his head and growled, "I know what you want!" "No!" I shrieked. He ignored my plea as I knew he would and began biting my nipples, first one and then the other. He would bite hard and then scrape his teeth over them as he tugged upwards, letting my turgid buds slip out of his mouth. My nipples exploded in pain and I began to orgasm, my walls clenching on the hard plastic as he rammed into me, the nubs scraping my clitoris to the point of pain. "AAAAHHHH, stop it, stop it, stop it!" I cried. The voice on the tape continued to scream, "Nooooo, pleeeaaassseeee! No! Ahhhh hahaha, Nooooo, Oh Gooodddd, Oh God. Why? Nnnnnoooooooooooo!" The sounds encircled my brain as I continued to spasm. I felt the sensations of being unable to move, being bitten, and fucked hard blend into a sensory overload. I was helpless. In contrast, I'd felt more powerful than I ever had in all my life when I'd been making that pretty bitch scream in agony. Her screams were like an orgasmic wave washing over me. And she never knew it was me. "Tell me you love me, baby doll," he growled. "Aaahhh, nnnooo!" the tape screamed. "Tell daddy you love me, baby doll," he growled. "Aaahhh, nnnooo! Oh you bitch!" the tape warbled. "Daddy's little girl is sooo tight! Tell me you love me, baby doll." He said it over and over like a chant while I screamed 'Nnnnooo' and my cries blended with the sounds Dana Scully's screams. Screams she couldn't remember from her abduction in 1995. Screams she uttered as instruments had invaded her body and orifices without the benefit of anesthesia, only the fog producing drug that shrouded her brain. I'd nearly had an orgasm back then, listening to her shriek. The tape sobbed, "Mull...hhulll...deeerrr. Oh God, nnnnooo, not again. You bitch! Noooo! Aaaaaahhhhhhhh! My legs vibrated with my continuing orgasm as his hips slapped against my suspended thighs, making them sting with the impact. "Teeelll mmeee!" he ground out. "Say it! TEELL MMEEE!" When my muscles became weak and my cries became pathetic I finally broke. I shrieked. "I LOVE YOU, DADDDDYYYY! I'm yours. Oh God." I gasped and whimpered, sucked in a deep breath, falling limp, no longer able to think as I spasmed and twitched. His thrusting slowed down and he remained inside until I nodded my head. I was enjoying the rippling feeling of my muscles shuddering around the still hard fullness in my cunt. He slid out and pulled the extender off. It was covered in my juices. He tossed it in the clean bucket I had by the bed and ripped his wig off. His eyes gleamed with a feral light. My neck and shoulders hurt and my back ached as I twitched with aftershocks. "O.K.," I said my voice hoarse. "Untie me." He smiled then, an evil smile that did reach his eyes. I felt panic rip through me as he slowly shook his head in the negative. "Not this time, ... baabbyy ddooll," he mocked me. "Untie me right now!" I shrieked, hearing that the tape had finally run out and the sound of static filled the room. He shook his head again. "I always play out your little fantasies, now your going to satisfy me. There's something I've been wanting for a long time." "What is this?!" I cried, hating the sound of panic in my voice. The real me had exited that special space of safety and was aware now. I had lost control again. "This is payback time baby," he said calmly. I struggled against my bonds but they wouldn't budge. He merely chuckled at my efforts as he reached down and stroked himself. He wasn't bad size, but he wasn't my father either. And he sure as hell wasn't Fox Mulder. He sounded calm but I could tell he was angry and tired of playing my games. He didn't like me pretending I was with someone else. Until now, though, he'd always played along. He climbed up and swung his body backwards, his face towards my legs. His dick hung in my face, just out of reach. I knew what he wanted and I began to struggle. I hated this. I'd never been able to do this. I'd never been relaxed, or allowed to relax and it was one more thing inflicted on me since the age of ten. Once out of my house, I'd never done it since. I'd licked them, sure, but I knew he wanted more. I panicked and began to struggle, "Noo, please, I mean it this time, please let me go." Unbidden, the picture came of my father, sitting me back against the headboard with his hands cupped around the back of my head, holding me tight to his body as he rammed his cock down my throat. He would be screaming, "Oh fuck, baby doll, even tighter than your little baby cunt. Oh fuck, SUCK ME!" I went frantic, yanking my hands in my cuffs, feeling them bite into my wrists as the bones separated. "No," he said firmly, grasping the side of my head with his hands. "Stop struggling. Hold still." He peered down at me and said, "And if you bite it, I'll beat you so bad, no one will recognize that pretty face of yours." I gasped, swallowing hard against my fear. "Please, not this. I mean it." I whimpered again. I hated that I was reduced to begging. He merely shook his head smiling again and used his fingers to pry my mouth open. His fingers bruised my skin as he held my lower jaw open. I tried to close my mouth but I was no match for the strength of his hands. The more I tried, the harder his fingers bit into my skin. I was going to be bruised ... on my face. I stopped struggling and closed my eyes. I heard his sadistic chuckle. "You think I'm so small, don't you, so small compared to your Daddy. So small compared to fucking Fox Mulder." He paused and then ground out between clenched teeth, "Well, let's see how small I feel when my cock is buried in your throat." I shrieked. I couldn't help it and again, without warning, he leaned forward, supporting himself with one hand next to my ribs. The rigid hardness of the fingers on his other hand slipped between my lips and wedged between my back molars, to keep my mouth open. There was no stopping it now. I could bite those fingers till doomsday and it wouldn't affect him at all. His cock head teased my lips, rubbing his pre-cum on them. I swallowed awkwardly, my mouth wedged open. My head swam with dizziness and I prayed I'd black out. He took a deep breath and lowered his hips, steadily burying his cock in my mouth. I felt the wide head pop past the back of my throat and I gagged. He stilled and I sucked air in harshly through my nose, the tears starting to stream down my face. He looked down at himself and moaned out, "Oh it feels so good in here." I could feel the throbbing hardness of him in my throat and the pain in my esophagus was tremendous as it spasmed and tried to contract. He moaned and began thrusting. He would pull almost all the way out and then slide back in. I could tell he was holding back, being a little careful but I gagged and choked just the same, sure I was going to throw up and be suffocated. But I'd eaten nothing in the last six hours and he knew that too, probably. He mumbled, "Awww, pretty tears, pretty tears." Then, as if he'd read my mind, he said, "Oh fuck, SUCK ME!" I tried to suck, but gagged and gurgled around him instead. The vibrations in my throat must have had the desired effect. Because he grunted and sped up, muttering, "Oh, that's good, that's really good." His praise gave me a perverse dart of pleasure. His bouncing jarred my arms where they hung suspended from the bed above my head. My shoulders screamed in pain. And to my horror, my womb spasmed in response to the pain. And he thrust, and thrust and thrust. "Aaahhh, yeah, baby!" Cough, gag. My nipples pulled up into tender, rock hard points. "I feel small now?" he taunted. Thrust, thrust thrust. Cough, gag, cough, gag, cough, gag. His hand left my mouth, but I was too far-gone to resist now. He held himself with that stiff arm and used the other to squeeze my nipple like a vice. I flooded my crotch, feeling my abdomen vibrate as another orgasm built quickly. He leaned down, sucking my clit hard into his mouth. It buzzed and lightening zipped through me as I peaked again, sharply and quickly. BASTARD! My mind screamed. His thrusting seemed to go on forever as I began to fade in and out of consciousness with my panic level. I felt him swell in my throat and was praying for the end, weeping with relief that he was about to come. Just then, he stopped and carefully pulled out. I lay there coughing and wheezing, swallowing convulsively against the pain in my throat. He crawled off me and turned to look at me, his hand reaching down to stroke himself lightly as though he were teasing himself. "Did Daddy last this long?" He reached up and stroked my throat gently with his fingers as I swallowed convulsively. I shook my head and whispered, "No," knowing that's what he wanted to hear and what I needed to say to get out of this. I'd pushed him too far, one too many times. "Did Fox Mulder last this long?" I shook my head and whispered, "No." "No, they didn't. There's something else I want to do with you." His voice was so deceptively controlled and calm, I didn't see it coming. Our eyes met and he muttered, "I want you so bad sometimes." I shivered under his lustful gaze, knowing that whatever happened, I could make him want me. "I'll bet they never did this either," he said calmly. He sprang over my upturned sex, his hands snaking around my waist, one warm and pliable, the other cold and hard, as my legs dangled helplessly in their ties. I was spread as wide as I could be with my pelvis tipped up, exposing everything. He grasped each ass cheek and pulled them apart roughly. I gasped, suddenly realizing what he was going to do. "No! Please, no!" He merely grunted, "Oh, Please, Yes!" and rammed his incredibly rigid cock into my ass with no preparation, no lubrication, and no warning. I felt the impact like an implosion and I felt the skin inside tear as he sunk deep into my ass. He pulled my cheeks apart brutally and ground his pubic bone against me, angling to go as deep as he could. I screamed, wailing incoherently. He was bent over at a sharp angle, his chin resting below my breasts. He began to thrust smoothly and steadily into my dry ass to the hilt as I screamed and cried, my head whipping back and forth. He kept his hands on my ass, pulling the skin taut. I felt like I was splitting apart. I could feel him deep in my belly. "Oh I need this!" he shouted. "So scratchy, so tight! Scream your pretty little head off, baby. It won't matter. Cause this is all for ME this time." He was completely out of control. He'd finally lost his cool as he humped me, driving deep into the core of my rectum as I screamed against the stinging pain. At the same time I felt my womb contracting painfully. His beautiful washboard stomach rubbed my clit across my pubic bone with every thrust. And to my horror, once again, I was flooded with arousal and his thrusts began to make a wet, slapping sound as his stomach slapped my cunt with every stroke. He asked, "Did DADDY fuck your virgin tight asshole? ... Huh? ... Did Fox Mulder pound his monster prick into this tight tunnel? Huh? Am I the first one in here?" I don't think he expected an answer. Right now, he felt like he had an elephant cock. His good hand slipped up my ribs and pinched my nipple brutally. "Bet they couldn't make you come when you didn't want to, could they? You're MINE and I'm going to show you that you belong to me. I'm going to make you come, baby. Whether you want to or not." He thrust silently for several seconds and then wailed again, "Oh baby, so tight, so good this way. I love this. I've always loved anal sex. There's nothing like it. This is so much better than your sloppy cunt. I'm the first one drilling your ass, aren't I? AREN'T I?" I vigorously nodded my head, affirming his suspicions. I could tell that excited him. He began to grunt. "Ah, ah, ah, come for me! I'M going to make you come! Not Daddy, not Mulder! ME! I'm gonna pound your virgin tunnel until you come!" He stretched his neck up and grabbed my nipple, biting it viciously while pinching the other one. He was up on his knees and using his back and legs for powerful thrusts. He began pulling all the way out and slamming back in. He surged into my ass, forcing it open over and over again. "Does my cock feel as big in here as Daddy's cock felt in your little girl pussy? Huh? I'll bet I feel even bigger in here!" My bowels exploded in burning, hot, ripping pain; my nipples flared with warmth and pain and I screamed as felt my orgasm slam into me as his stomach rolled over my clit. "OOOHHH, GOOODDD, NOOOO!" "Oh God Yes!" he mimicked me. I couldn't believe I was coming. I didn't want to come. He'd done it; he'd made me come anyway. He'd made the connection for me and my whole body spasmed with pleasure, my nipples burning and aching, my womb contracting to just this side of pain. And the contractions weren't stopping. I was coming so hard I could hardly catch my breath. He laughed a maniacal laugh and slammed into my ass so hard it felt like I would split wide open. "I've made you so hot! Can't deny it now! You're coming so hard, FOR ME!" I felt my muscles of my rectum spasm along with core walls and grip his steel hard cock like a vice. He continued to ride me hard and resumed biting my nipples. Wasn't he ever going to come? And he was right, he felt huge in there. I'd never felt fuller, not even with Fox Mulder. He kept talking as he panted with his exertion; "To hell with your big cock lovin' sloppy pussy. Who fucks you the BEST, BABY!? I made you come even when you didn't want to ... because you're MINE!" My body continued to convulse like a traitor. No longer able to differentiate the sensations of pain from pleasure, I floated in a haze of back-to- back orgasms. They blended together in a symphony of body wracking pleasure. It had always been that way for me. Pain and pleasure, all mixed up together. No other lover had ever understood that about me. Just this lover and he made it happen for me. He knew what I wanted better than I did sometimes. And I remembered why I stayed with him and why I kept coming back to the well; because he was dangerous, unpredictable, and because he was right. I shouted, "YOU FUCK ME BEEEHHHESSST!" "BEG ME, Baby!" he shouted. My voice was rough and scratchy still as I hollered, "DON'T STOP! Please, please, keep going. Don't stop. You feel huge, so hard; so big it hurts me! Oh God, it hurts! I'm so full. Oh God, baby, keep doing me hard!" The words tumbled out of my mouth as though on auto-pilot. I felt him shudder "Aww, yeah, your tight ass belongs to me. I'm the first one here. This belongs to me! Admit it!" "Yes! It belongs to you! I belong to you. Come for me, come in my ass!" I felt his whole body spasm violently in response to my words. He was going to come because of the words! Paradoxically, a rush of power flooded back through me like a wave and my contractions increased. He muttered, "Sweet Jesus, Oh Christ, baby. I'm gonna come so hard. Oh Fuck Me, your ass squeezes me so good." He paused and ground out, "Christ, baby, here I come! Oh FUCK YEAH!" he shouted and began jerking his hips against my ass, staying embedded fully as his cock throbbed and sprayed his hot semen deep into the core of my ass. I shrieked again at the sensations, feeling every throb. His hot semen stung the walls of my rectum. I must be torn inside, I thought vaguely. I'd never felt a cock so hard in my life. Its very hardness was painful, even if it hadn't been in my ass. My womb and core walls convulsed one final time as he came to the end of his long release. He collapsed on top of me, not supporting a bit of his weight. His weight sagged my body and I groaned as I felt my arms tremble and feel like they were going to pull out of the sockets. He shuddered and ground himself into me, flexing his hips forward and suckling my tit like a baby, not wanting to leave until he was too soft to stay. I whispered, "Please untie me. My shoulders are killing me." He rose reluctantly up onto all fours and reached up to undo my cuffs. I groaned in pain as I lowered my shoulders. He rubbed them gently with an odd look on his face. "That was ... the best sex I've ever had," he muttered, his voice laced with astonishment. I just looked at him. "Glad it was for you," I muttered, unable to resist a little sarcasm in the wake of the relief that we were done. He leaned over and fisted a handful of hair, bringing my face into his. "Don't get smart ... baby doll," he taunted. "You can't always have control. We share everything." I felt a tremor go through me. I was truly afraid of him sometimes. I just nodded and reached between my legs to unfasten the cords wrapped around them. I groaned as my protesting muscles spasmed painfully from being held in the same position for too long. He helped me by reaching up and releasing the chords from the hooks. My legs fell and he massaged my hip flexors as I groaned loudly. "Are you really hurt?" he asked. He was so cruel sometimes, yet now, he was being caring, helping me recover. He was a walking oxymoron. Hot one minute, cold the next ... just like me. I shook my head 'no' and moaned as blood flooded into my legs and pins and needles invaded my skin. "I don't think so. I don't know." When I thought I could walk, he helped me up and walked me to the bathroom with an arm around my waist. He left me to clean up and I felt faint when I saw the blood that I wiped from my ass. I took a hand mirror and sat on it. The skin of the sphincter was not torn, so the blood must be from torn tissue inside. It would probably heal. I hoped it didn't get infected. Maybe I should see a doctor ... but that would be embarrassing. I felt my bowels spasm and quickly hopped up and opened the lid of the toilet and sat just in time before my bowels emptied in a rush of air and then loose movements. I wiped and sat there for a long time, not knowing what to say to him and not wanting to face him after this. This fantasy had gotten out of hand. We'd done it before but never to this extent. He'd never worn a wig and he usually didn't smoke. And he usually didn't rape me. That was what had happened. I shuddered. But it was a fine line. He never heeded my 'No' when we played this fantasy. It was part of it, the rape fantasy. There was a fine line between that and the real thing. The line was very, very blurry right at the moment. The bitch of it was, I had an orgasm with his prick in my throat. In spite of it all, he'd given me back to back orgasms ... twice. So whether I consented beforehand or not, I would have a hard time proving he was in the wrong. 'Gee, Judge So and So, I liked the rape fantasy when I pretended he was my father. That was my idea. However, without the wig and then with the anal sex, well ... that was rape. Yes, I came like a whore, but so what? Sure, right. That would go over big, I thought sarcastically. Why couldn't I be a normal woman? Why couldn't I be happy with my tidy career, have a nice man for a husband and normal sex. No. I had to want more, become ambitious, tie myself to these scumbags. And now there was no escape. And Alex fed my perversions with glee. Sick, sadistic, bastard. But I was just as sick. We were perfect for each other. Knowing it and caring were too different things. Now that it was over, did I care enough to make an issue out of it? Was it any different than the hundreds of times I'd been raped as a kid? I couldn't show him my anger. That would be showing him weakness and I didn't want to do that, not outside the fantasy. I sighed and stood up, jumping in the shower. I wasn't ready to face him yet. When I finished I dried myself off, wrapped the towel around my wet hair and strode confidently back into the bedroom, buck-naked. And he was gone. The bed was made. The cassette deck stood open and he had taken the tape. Damn it. I'd wanted to keep that. The whiskey was gone off the dresser and the ashtray was dumped in the wastebasket. He must have cleaned the extender in the kitchen because it lay on the bed in the middle of the comforter, all cleaned up. Bastard, he couldn't even wait for me to have a shower and get cleaned up? I didn't want to see him anyway. Did I? I was so confused. And I was rapidly becoming a hypocrite. I wondered what Fox Mulder and Dana Scully were doing right now? Probably having nice, normal sex in his nice, normal bed. Or maybe they were doing it on the couch. I stepped to the dresser and dragged out a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt. I didn't bother with a bra or underwear. I headed for the living room, feeling my crotch twinge with discomfort. I was going to be sore as hell tomorrow. I rounded the corner into the kitchen and gasped. He stood there, fully dressed, eating a piece of toast he'd made for himself. I thought how sexy he was, just watching him chew and swallow. He knew it too, the smug bastard. He smiled and then went back to eating his toast. "You're taking the tape?" I asked. "I can't leave it, baby. It's too risky. What if you lost it with all your moving around? Don't worry though, I can always bring it again." I nodded, swallowing a sudden lump in my throat. He threw away the paper plate, brushed his hands together and headed for the living room on his way to the front door. I followed, "Hey," I said, not even knowing what I was going to say. He stopped as I came up along side him. "We still have plans to make," I reminded him. We were in this together. And our employers were not going to be happy unless they saw some results soon. We needed to come up with a divide and conquer plan. He bit the inside of his cheek and looked at me, tilting his head to one side. Then he reached out and swatted me on the ass. "Not tonight, babe. I'm done. See you round." I frowned, cursing the tears that stung the back of my eyes. His face softened and he pulled me to him, one hand on my low back, one on the back of my head. He kissed me softly, tenderly, running his fingers feather light up and down my throat. "I'll see you soon, O.K.? Just not tonight. Stay out of trouble." Then he turned on his heel and was out the door before I could argue any further. At least he hadn't left without saying good-bye and he'd kissed me so tenderly. That had to mean something, right? I felt the sting of tears behind my eyes again and I realized how silly that thought was. He cared for himself and nobody else. I didn't want him to care anyway, did I? I liked my life. At least, I thought I did. No complications, a sex life with no strings attached. Sometimes though, I just wanted my old life back, the one without intrigue and dangerous jobs and death threats hanging over my head. There was a sharp knock on the door and I strode quickly to it. Had he forgotten something? Was he coming back? I opened the door a crack and didn't stop to examine or hide my disappointment. "Oh, it's you." PART 2 (PG-13) MARGARET SCULLY'S HOME BALTIMORE, MD NOVEMBER 22, 2001 2:30 PM We stood shaking hands in the driveway. As I held the door open on the passenger side for Dana to slip into the car, a shot rang out, the sound reverberating in the air. I immediately ducked my body over Scully's and shoved her into the car seat by instinct. The bullet pinged off the rear quarter panel of our government Taurus. Tara and her kids screamed as Bill scooped one kid under each arm and ran for the house, Tara close on his heels. I stood and wheeled away from the car, drawing my weapon and crouching, using the door as partial cover. Scully whispered, "Where did it come from?" I shook my head. "I don't know, but I think that way." I pointed toward the rear of the car. "I'm going to get out ..." she started. "Stay right there," I demanded. She gave me one of her 'Scully looks' that said, 'Fuck off, Mulder' and pulled her weapon. I scooted over to make room for her while she slid out and crouched behind me. "What's the plan?" "I don't know. I'm assuming Bill is calling the cops and I hope, keeping everyone away from the windows." "What the hell?!" she whispered fiercely. "It's Thanksgiving for God sakes!" I sighed. "I see you brought your weapon too, though," I commented. She just gave me a dirty look. "Look," she began. "Move out of the way and I'm going around the front of the car and heading for the woods toward the street. I'm going to circle around and see if I see anything." She pointed to the other side of the driveway that was lined with trees as well. "You go that way, we'll meet on the street. Nobody's gonna shoot us on a public street in the middle of the afternoon." "They just did," I commented wryly. She rolled her eyes. "This is a long driveway. I'll bet no one on the street heard a thing." She was right. Mrs. Scully's house was set back from the road quite a ways. Wee, Happy Thanksgiving! I thought sarcastically, and stood out of my crouch as Scully scurried around behind me. She moved in a semi crouch, at least keeping her head down, I was glad to see. I hated splitting up like this but I knew it was the best plan of attack. Go on the offensive. I made a run for the far side of the driveway and spun to see Scully disappear into the trees. I plunged into the woods at a trot, my head swiveling back and forth as I headed diagonally toward the street. I didn't see a thing. I stopped and stood still, listening. If there had been a breeze I probably wouldn't have heard it. But I did hear it. The faint sound of a boot scuffing on wood ... above my head. I spun around and lifted my weapon, looking up just in time to see a body flying towards me. He must have been in the tree. I shouted, "FBI, Bastard!" That was all I got out before he crashed into me. He was dressed all in black and wearing a ski mask that revealed only his eyes and mouth. I fell backwards, landing hard and feeling the air whoosh out of my lungs. A hand grabbed my wrist and my weapon went off, my hand reflexively squeezing the trigger. We struggled for a moment then I dropped my weapon. I shouted, "Oh, Fuck!" Our eyes locked for a split second. He growled, "Don't fight me!" Like hell, I thought, recognizing his voice. I took a lousy left handed swing at him as he straddled my chest and then saw his arm fall, the butt of his gun flashed in my face and then everything went black. XXXXXXXXXX My heart leaped up into my throat when I heard Mulder's shout and then the shot that rang out. I took off at a dead run toward the sound, shouting, "Mulder!" I heard footsteps behind me and glanced over my shoulder to see my brother Bill in a full sprint behind me. I didn't have time to deal with him or tell him to stay back. I hit the woods at a run after crossing the driveway and heard a scuffle. I heard Mulder's mumbled, "Oh fuck!" and then silence. I was at once flooded with relief that the shot I heard hadn't hit him, but then panic followed as I shouted again, "Mulder!" and he didn't answer. I came upon him abruptly almost not stopping in time and fell to my knees beside him, sticking my weapon in the front of my slacks. There was blood on his temple and a nasty lump forming on the side of his head. He was out cold. "Jesus, Mulder," I whispered. Billy went by me in a dead run and then I focused ahead of me and could hear someone crashing through the woods ahead of him. I shouted, "He's armed, Billy! Forget it!" Of course he didn't listen. And I checked Mulder's breathing and heart rate. At least they were O.K. I moved to his feet and stood, struggling to raise his heavy legs up in the air. As the blood left his extremities and flowed back into his head, he moaned and gasped. I set his legs down clumsily; leaving them bent at the knees and kneeled again, holding his head gently. "Don't move yet, Mulder. You've got a nasty bump on your head." As I palpated his scalp for fractures or other lumps, he hissed in pain but then went silent. I found nothing scary, but would want to have his head X-rayed to make sure there was no damage under the skin. He tried to sit up and groaned, flopping back down as I reached helplessly for his shoulders. "Lie still!" I reprimanded. I sounded harsher than I meant to, my concern for him crowding out my control. Mulder mumbled, "It was Krycek." "How do you know?" "Ski mask, but I'd know those beady eyes anywhere. He talked." I heard a scuffle and another shout, "Asshole." It didn't sound like Billy. I shot to my feet and looked at Mulder. "Mulder ... damn!" I cried in frustration. He waved me off. "Go!" he said, his voice hoarse. "I'm all right. Go after him." I bolted away from him, my fear for him warring with the fear for my brother. My brother was no slouch. And although not an FBI agent, he was a Navy Captain and an expert marksman. He was a qualified sharp shooter. I didn't know if he carried a weapon with him though. I knew he didn't have one in my mother's house. "Billy!" I shouted as I ran, and pulled my weapon out of my pants. "Here!" he shouted, and I veered left following the sound of his voice. I skidded into a clearing to the right of him, just in time to see him go into a firing stance and squeeze off a round at he retreating figure in the distance. I heard the figure shout, "Aaahhh, mother fuck!" But he kept moving. I recognized that voice, even from this distance and it sent a chill down my spine. It was Krycek all right. Billy made to move but I put a hand on his shoulder. "No, Billy. Let him go." He took a deep breath. "Shit!" he shouted in frustration, his pistol hanging at his side. I holstered my Sig Sauer in my holster on the back of my pants. I gestured toward his pistol. It was a .22 caliber automatic. Nice little gun. He shrugged and held it up. "I keep it in a lock box in the glove compartment." I nodded. He glanced after our assailant and said, "I hit him, Dana." "I know, Billy, I know." "He could have killed you." "He could have killed any one of us. You shouldn't have come running out here. I know you can shoot, but Mulder and I are trained for this." He gave me a dirty look. "Bullshit. I'm just as trained as you are." I didn't want to argue so I sighed. "Let's go back." "We can start calling the hospitals and tell them to be on the look out for someone with a gunshot wound to the arm." "He won't go to a hospital," I said with sad conviction. Billy just looked at me asking how I knew. I shook my head, indicating he shouldn't ask. The less he knew the better. "How do you know?" he asked pushing the issue. I shrugged. "You know who it was, don't you?" he asked. I sighed again, not wanting to lie to him. "Yeah, I know who it was and believe me, Billy, you're better off not knowing." He had the saddest look on his face but he didn't say anything more. As I made my way back to Mulder, he turned and followed me quietly. I found Mulder upright and leaning against a tree, his head tipped back. He looked pale but otherwise alert. He swayed slightly and rested his hand on the tree for balance when he stepped away. I shot to his side and he waved me off. "I'm all right, but I don't think I can drive." I nodded my understanding and wrapped an arm around his waist. "Let's get you back to the house and cleaned up. And I'll want to X-ray that bump." "He hit me with the butt of his pistol." "How did he get the drop on you?" I asked as we walked slowly back toward the house, his arm around me as well. Billy trailed behind, trying to be discreet, but I'm sure, listening to every word. "He dropped out of that tree." I looked over my shoulder then back to concentrate on where we were going. "He was in a tree?" I asked. "Yeah, I heard his boot scuff on the wood about one second before he fell on me. It knocked the wind out of me or he wouldn't have gotten the best of me." "Thank God you didn't get shot." Mulder huffed a sarcastic sound. "Funny thing about him, he likes to use his fists." "Or his pistol apparently," I added. "He told me not to fight him." "What the hell did he expect you to do?" "Maybe he was just trying to scare us." Billy asked again. "Who was it, Dana?" Mulder and I said in unison, "You don't want to know." Then we smiled at each other, always tickled when we spoke in unison, despite the circumstances. Bill snorted and shook his head, deciding not to pursue it. When we broke out of the woods and into the driveway, my mother and Tara came rushing out. They helped us back into the house and I cleaned Mulder up in the bathroom. Tara and Bill left and Mulder and I retreated to the kitchen for a cup of tea before we left. My mother was solemn as she sat the tea in front of us. She plopped into a chair, sighing loudly and I knew something was coming. I decided to cut her off at the pass. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to ruin the holiday." She laughed and it sounded slightly hysterical. "How could this possibly be your fault?" she asked, as if that was the most ridiculous idea she'd ever heard. "He was after us." "He?" she asked. "Whoever it was," I added quickly. She raised an eyebrow at me and I turned back to Mulder. He smiled gently. "I'm sorry too, Mrs. Scully. I hoped this would be a nice day." "It was a nice day, Fox," she replied. "Right up until the part where my daughter got shot at." Her voice was sarcastic, but held no malice toward Mulder. She looked from him to me and added, "And don't tell me it comes with the territory." I shrugged. She sighed again, "When will this end, Dana? Will it ever end? You and Fox always being a target, running into trouble?" I took a deep breath. This was an old, worn out conversation. I understood her fears. But I wasn't about to give up my career or the X-Files either. "I don't know, Mom. I just don't know," I answered honestly. She took a sip of her tea and closed her eyes, but not before I saw the wetness in them that she was hiding from me. XXXXXXXXXX DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT GEORGETOWN, D.C. FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 2001 9:00 AM We had the day off. After spending the night with me, he had left an hour ago to go home and get some clean clothes. He planned on spending the weekend here. I was looking forward to two days holed up in the apartment with nowhere we had to be. The doorbell surprised me. I knew he couldn't be back yet. I started the dishwasher and went to the door, peaking out the peephole. I didn't see anyone. "Hello? Who's there?" I asked. An overwhelming feeling of dread came over me. I stepped back from the door and put my back to the wall. There was no answer. "Hello? Is anyone out there?" I heard footsteps making their way away from my door. I unbolted the door, took the chain off and stuck my head out quickly to peek, pulling back in immediately. I hadn't seen anything. I peeked again, looking both ways, seeing nothing. I took a cautious step forward and kicked something. I stopped short and looked down at the shoebox that was lying there on the floor. With trembling hands, I picked it up cautiously. It didn't weigh anything. I closed the door again and bolted it as I made my way back into the apartment. I went to the kitchen and put the box in the sink. I stood staring at it for a long time, wondering if I should open it. There was something bad in there. I knew it. Some instinct told me that this was not a tip from an informant. There was a string tied around it to keep the lid on. I decided to leave it there until Mulder got back. I felt stupid, panicking over a stupid anonymous shoebox, but I couldn't shake the feeling. I left the kitchen and the feeling of disquiet left. I was being silly. I wandered into the bedroom and concentrated on putting another load of laundry into my laundry basket. Then I sat on the bed and looked at the doorway then down at my lap. "You're being stupid, Dana," I said out loud. "Stupid about what?" I gasped loudly and sprung off the bed, spinning toward the door. Mulder stood there casually leaning against the jamb, his duffel bag dangling from one hand. "Jesus Christ! Mulder! You scared the shit out of me. Do you have to be so quiet? Make a little noise next time, huh?" My voice rose dramatically and I took a deep breath to calm myself. He dropped his bag by the door and approached me wearing a frown of concern. "Sorry, Scully. Why are you so jumpy?" I shook my head. "It's nothing." "No, it's not." I looked up at him as his hands landed on my shoulders. I sighed again. "Someone rang the bell while you were gone, about a half an hour ago." He looked at me steadily, waiting for the rest. "And?" he prompted. "And when I got to the door, there was no one there." "Did you check the peephole?" "Yes, I always do. I asked who was there and there was no answer." "So now you're spooked," he said. It was a statement. "There's more." "What happened?" "I opened the door when I heard footsteps." "Scu...llyy!" he said, a reprimand in his voice. I shrugged, ignoring his censure. "There was no one in the hall, but they left a shoebox." He was silent a moment and then prompted me again. "And what was in the shoebox?" "I don't know." He looked confused now. "What do you mean, you don't know?" "I didn't open it," I admitted. He nodded. "Where is it?" He immediately understood that I hadn't wanted to open it without him here. He really was an amazing man, sometimes. He could read me like a book. "In the kitchen sink." He put his arm around my shoulder and guided me out of the bedroom, down the hall and into the kitchen. We approached the sink. It was sitting there just as I had left it. "I feel stupid now," I said blandly. He chuckled. "Don't worry about it. Sometimes we just get spooked. And after the day we had yesterday, we have every reason to be spooked. He gently pulled the string and it came out of its simple knot. He got a funny look on his face. "What is it, Mulder?" "I don't know. Why didn't you open it?" "I just had this weird feeling it was bad and I didn't want to touch it anymore." He nodded. "There's a peculiar odor. Do you have any latex gloves?" I raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you think?" I asked, knowing the question was rhetorical. I always had gloves. I darted into the bathroom and opened the cupboard under the sink, pulling out an open box of gloves. I went back to the kitchen and set them on the counter. Mulder pulled two out and set about putting them on. I couldn't help the smile that came over my face when he was done. They were small gloves, made for hands my size. He could barely pull them to his wrists. He smiled back and then reached for the lid, gingerly tipping it up and back off the box. My hand flew to cover my mouth and I backed away a step. Mulder muttered, "Oh, Jesus." We both stood in silence as we looked. There was a dead kitten in the box. Someone had slit its throat. The peculiar odor was blood. There was a sheet of wax paper in the bottom that had prevented the blood from saturating the box. Neither of had to say a word. It was a warning from someone. "What are they trying to warn me off of, that's what I don't get?" "And who is doing the warning?" he added. "Well, we know it was Krycek yesterday." "This isn't his style." The scariest thing, the cat was ... orange, almost the exact shade as my hair. I drew in a shaky breath and watched as Mulder opened the door under the sink and pulled out a garbage bag. He picked up the box about to throw it in the bag when he stopped and set it back down. "What?" "There's something else in here," he muttered. He fingered the back leg aside and emerged with a lipstick tube. I frowned in confusion. What the hell was the significance of that? Mulder turned it over and looked at the top and I saw the color drain from his face. He whispered, "No, it can't be." "What?!" I asked, a little more frantically. His eyes moved slowly from the tube to my face. Then he turned it toward me so I could read the top. All it said was 'Via Pr=E8ve'. I scrunched my brow and swallowed, licking my lips. "What does that mean to you, Mulder?" He looked down at his feet and back up to lock his gaze with mine. I was surprised to find tears in his eyes. I stepped into him as he dropped the tube back in the shoebox. I wrapped my arms around him and reached up to grasp his head, turning him to look at me again. I waited while he regained his composure. "That lipstick ..." he began. "Yeah?" I asked, dreading the answer. Why did he have such a sudden and profound reaction? His bottom lips quivered slightly and then he whispered, "It's French. You can only get it through mail order." "So?" "Diana ... wears that lipstick." PART 3 (NC-17) J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING WASHINGTON, D.C. NOVEMBER 23, 2001 FRIDAY - 11:00 AM So much for getting a day off. We had put the box and its contents into the garbage bag and headed straight for the office. I brought it up to the lab and left it with Patty, one of the girls I trusted to do a thorough job and told her it was important and to put a rush on it. She said she could do it right away. What she was working on could wait. We went to Skinner's office and weren't surprised to see him there. Most people had taken the day off, but he was there, poring over files on his desk. We explained what had happened on Thanksgiving and then what had happened this morning. Mulder told him about the lipstick cap. Skinner sat back in his chair and looked thoughtful. "I wouldn't jump to conclusions, Agent Mulder." "But Sir," I began. "Agent Scully, it could be someone wanting you to THINK that it's Agent Fowley." Mulder muttered, "I doubt it." "What was that?" Skinner asked. Mulder looked at him. "Look sir, something happened about three months ago, just before we went on that case in Dudley Town, that makes me think ..." "What happened Agent Mulder?" Mulder and I looked at each other and he silently asked permission to tell Skinner. We would be taking a chance. We could only hope that he wouldn't care and would be discreet on our behalf. But I didn't see how we could avoid telling him if we wanted his help. I said, "We don't have a choice, Mulder." He nodded and turned back to Skinner. "Agent Fowley ... tried to come on to me in the parking garage downstairs." The corners of Skinner's lips turned up. I glared at him. I didn't find that amusing at all. I still saw that picture in my head every time I saw her. He raised his eyebrows at Mulder, silently asking him to continue. "She, uh, she tried to kiss me ... without warning," he added. Skinner fought a full-blown smile. I cleared my throat. "Try my ass, Mulder. She planted one right on you." Skinner turned his attention to me as Mulder took his turn at clearing his throat. He was clearly uncomfortable discussing this and I couldn't blame him. I continued. "I saw it, Sir, and I ... didn't have a good reaction to it." I tried to sound as dignified as I could. He looked at me a moment and then turned back to Mulder. Mulder sighed, "I blew her off, told her to take a hike in so many words and went after Scully. She ... misinterpreted what she saw and I didn't want that. I was furious with Diana." Skinner blinked rapidly, obviously amused at our fumbling explanation and turned back to me as though it was my turn. I sat up straight and said, "Agent Mulder and I discussed it and ... realized that ... " "Realized what, Agent Scully?" he asked, not trying to hide his smile now. Mulder said, "What's so God damned funny?" That question only made Skinner smile wider, cough behind his hand and then look at me again, now with a straight face. I blushed and looked down, unsure how to proceed. Skinner said, "Let me guess." We both looked up at him and he said, "You finally realized that you're in love with one another but it took seeing Agent Fowley make a move on Agent Mulder to get Agent Scully to admit it. And now you're a couple and Agent Fowley is probably steaming in her boots." He delivered this in a perfectly no-nonsense fashion. My mouth hung open. I glanced at Mulder to find his mouth open too. Skinner looked at me, at Mulder, then back at me. "Am I close?" he asked, shrugging. I began to laugh. I couldn't help it. I felt the color rise up my neck again and blossom over my face. Mulder looked at me smiling, and it was contagious. He started to laugh too, and before we knew it, Skinner was chuckling softly with us. When our mirth died down he said, "Judging by your reaction, I'd say I'm pretty close in my educated guess." We both nodded. "We didn't realize it right away, Sir," I said. "Of course not," he said solemnly and then smiled again, shaking his head in amusement. "Doesn't matter. What matters are these two events in the last two days." He turned to Mulder. "Agent Mulder, do you think Agent Fowley could be that vindictive?" Mulder's mouth opened and then closed. "I don't want to think so, but ..." Skinner finished for him. "But the evidence points that way." "Yes. I didn't want to believe a lot of things, but Agent Scully has also convinced me that she is or was mixed up with the Cancer Man and that crew." Skinner raised his eyebrows. "So there could be more to this than a jealous rival?" he asked. I sighed deeply. "I don't like Agent Fowley. I've made no secret of that. And I don't trust her as far as I could throw her. But whether Mulder believes me or not, I don't want to believe that she is behind this." Mulder looked confused. This seemed contradictory to my usual spiel when it came to Agent Fowley. "Why not?" he asked softly. I met his gaze and paused, licking my lips again, my mouth suddenly dry. Then I said, "Because I know how much that would hurt you." He hung his head and said, "I'm sorry, Scully." "Don't be. It's only natural. She was a part of your life once. And whether time and circumstances have changed her or not, we never want to believe someone we ... once ..." I couldn't say loved. "Cared for," I continued, "could turn on us. And if she is behind this, she has to know that by hurting me, she will hurt you." Skinner cleared his throat again. "All right, look, the evidence is flimsy. Millions of women probably wear that lipstick, imported or not. But based on what you've told me, she has a motive. And based on your history ... and our suspicions about her dubious acquaintances ..." He sighed. "I'll see if I can put a tail on her." Mulder nodded. "We didn't want to bother you with this, but this is too much. We don't even know what we're being warned about." "Maybe that's the point," Skinner said. "What do you mean?" Mulder asked. "I mean that maybe this has nothing to do with the consortium and it's strictly personal. Maybe she's gone around the bend with jealousy." Mulder shook his head. "I doubt it. She doesn't even care for me." "How can you say that?" he asked, looking confused. "She doesn't care for me, Sir, she simply wants control and that's the best way to get it." "And why would she want control of you?" he asked. Mulder looked at him. "To get information, find out what I know. That is if she is working with the consortium like Agent Scully has suspected." "There's been no evidence of that," he stated the obvious. I interjected, "They never leave evidence. Nobody said they were stupid. They are very good at covering their tracks, experts in fact. And if she's connected with them, then she's no slouch either. She was under cover overseas. Who the hell knows what she learned or was taught while she was gone? She did specialize in counter terrorism, didn't she?" "That was the official word," he replied. "You don't believe that?" I asked. He pursed his lips. "I don't know what to believe. But I know you can't make accusations without evidence. You can't follow her. She'd spot either one of you in a second." "She's probably watching us, or has someone doing it for her," Mulder said. "Well, someone dropped off that box," I said. Mulder looked at me. "And Krycek took a shot at us yesterday. I don't know if he was aiming for you or me, but he took a shot." "The whole personal thing doesn't fit when you bring Krycek into the picture. He's a puppet for the consortium, I think, but I doubt he'd be one for Diana," I added. "You never know. If they need her to do something," Mulder speculated, "And she wanted something done in return ... they might order Krycek to do it." I felt dizzy suddenly and hungry. "Look, this is all speculation and a big waste of time. We'll see if the lab picks up anything, although I doubt they will. Sir, if you put a tail on her, will you let us know what you find out, please?" "Of course, I'll keep you advised. I'll have to go outside the Bureau. She probably knows all the guys we use anyway. And if she doesn't and spots the tail, she'll look up the list in the Bureau computer. That would tip us off that she knows. I'll tell Lucy to keep an eye out for any checks on private investigators and tails that we use being accessed on the Bureau computer system." We nodded and stood up. "Well, Agents," Skinner said as he stood up. "Keep me posted on your end as well. I'm sure you'll be digging into something." "I think we are going to go home and try to enjoy the rest of the weekend off. Patty has my cell phone number so she can call when she's done." Skinner nodded. "I'll call up there and have her give me a buzz too." "Good," Mulder said. "We'll talk to you on Monday, unless something comes up between now and then. "Sounds good," he said as we made our way to the door. Mulder's hand fell on my low back as he leaned around me to open the door. Skinner said, "Agents." We stopped and looked back at him. He smiled. "I'm glad ... well, congratulations." "Congratulations, Sir?" I asked. "On figuring it out. It's about time." We smiled at each and then at him. "See you later, Sir," Mulder said. XXXXXXXXXX We went home and climbed into the shower, both of us feeling dirty from our encounter with the shoebox, even though we'd gotten nothing on ourselves. When we emerged from the shower and dried off, I returned to the bedroom to pick out clothes while he brushed his teeth. I was standing at the closet, trying to decide whether to wear jeans or leggings when Mulder slipped his arms around me from behind, pressing his damp, naked body against my chest. I smiled and laid my arms over top of his where they rested on my ribcage. He put his chin on my shoulder and said, "Don't get dressed yet." I turned and looked at him out of the corner of my eye. "And why not?" "Because I've got plans for you." "Oh you do, do you?" I played along. His pelvis rocked against my backside and I felt his erection press between my ass cheeks. I was unable to stifle the moan that slipped out of the back of my throat as my crotch flooded with wetness. It was amazing what this man could do to me with just a touch. As promised all those weeks ago, we'd christened just about every piece of furniture in both of our apartments. He walked backwards until we were at the edge of the bed. He sat. When I made to sit down on his legs, he stopped me, holding me firmly by the hips. "Bend over," he said. I tossed him a saucy look over my shoulder. "And why should I do that?" He smiled. "Trust me." I grinned and faced forward, realizing I was staring into the mirror that hung on the closet door. I leaned down, putting my hands just above my knees to balance myself and bend forward at the waist. I felt my nether lips split open slowly as he caressed the crease where my butt meets my thigh, rubbing each thumb back and forth and setting up a delicious tingle in my thighs. He leaned forward and licked the crease of my ass and I gasped. My eyes closed when I felt his lips touch down on my soaking lips and gently suck them, one at a time into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them to taste my juices. "Awww, Mulder," I whispered in a breathy tone, feeling my nipples start to harden as they hung in the open air. I raised my hands to my breasts, squeezing to relieve the ache. He licked me everywhere and then poked at my clit with his tongue. I bent my knees and leaned forward further to give him better access. He slid two fingers inside of me and I gushed liquid around his fingers, hearing it fizzle softly. He muttered, "Always so wet." "Only for you," I whispered, and he groaned softly. He carefully moved me backwards, guiding me by my hips and his thighs rubbed on the outsides of my knees. He pushed my calves together between his legs and carefully lowered me down. I looked between my legs to aim and was aroused further by the sight of his towering erection. It was red and throbbing and I could feel the heat of it teasing my folds. "Now Mulder," I said. He gripped me tighter and lowered me down, filling me in one abrupt move as my weight carried me down and his hips tipped and thrust upwards. We both moaned as he found himself seated completely. I wiggled a little and he moaned. "Don't do that!" I chuckled. He began lifting me gently almost to the top of his shaft and letting my weight carry me back down. I used my legs to assist and glided easily up and down. I was so wet; my juices were coating the insides of my thighs. One of his hands snaked around my waist as his breathing become rapid and he brushed over my clit from top to bottom with his fingers. I groaned and tipped myself toward his hand, seeking more contact. As he continued to rub me, I widened my stance a bit, enough to reach through my legs. His balls, big, full and swollen, hung over the edge of the bed. I grasped them gently and began rolling his testes between my fingers, feeling his skin slide over the spongy internal organs. He groaned low and deep in his throat and I felt an answering quiver between my legs. His hand dipped and rubbed my clit frantically. I shouted, "I'm coming!" and began squeezing his shaft with staccato muscle spasms. He surprised me a few seconds later when he rolled abruptly to the right, holding fast to my waist and rolling me underneath him so my torso was on the bed and my legs on the floor. I groaned as he bent over and began driving into me with gusto. My sensitive nipples scraped on the bedspread and I began pant and moan, feeling my orgasm build in my belly. He crushed my cheeks and legs together, making me a tighter fit and drove into me repeatedly, grunting with his efforts. My fists curled into the bedspread and I let the power of his thrusts rock me forward and my own weight and momentum carry me back to impale me on his rigid sex. "So good, Mulder," I moaned low. "Love you so much," he whispered, leaning over and kissing my shoulder blades, one hand on my shoulder, the other on my hip. I felt him speed up and his strokes become clumsy. I reached down between my stomach and the bedspread and found my clit, rubbing either side of it vigorously with my forefinger and middle finger. His hand slid off my shoulder and under me to cup my breast and pinch my nipple. His rough voice floated to my ear. "Come for me, baby." I cried out, "Ohohohoho, I am! Mulder! Yes!" His quivering flanks slammed into me a couple more times and then he shouted, "Ssscccuuulllyyy! Oh Christ!" as he began to empty into me in long drawn out spurts. His semen was hot and coated my insides with warmth as my core walls spasmed around his cock. He fell forward, supporting his weight on his elbows so as not to crush me. I twisted as far as I could and we kissed tenderly. XXXXXXXXXX I almost had a heart attack when I heard a sound behind me at the door to the bedroom. I whirled around to see Krycek standing in the doorway. He raised his black leather gloved hands and began to clap slowly. Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap. I yanked my still hard dick out of Scully and whirled to look for my boxers. "Holy Shit," Scully shouted, and scrambled for the bedspread, which I helped whip around to cover her body from his leering eyes. I grabbed my dirty boxer briefs off the bureau and yanked them on. "What the fuck are you doing in here?!" Scully shouted, her voice on the edge of hysteria. I couldn't imagine her embarrassment. How long had he been standing there? "Very nice show, kids," he said with a grin on his face. His good arm reached down and he squeezed the bulge in the front of his jeans, grunting and thrusting his pelvis forward. "What the fuck do you want?" I asked as I pulled on my jeans, feeling vulnerable half dressed. He leaned casually against the doorjamb. As if he hadn't heard me, he looked at Scully. "She told me Mulder had a dick like a horse. What she didn't tell me was how fantastic your tits are." Scully gasped, burrowing further into the comforter. "Get the fuck out of here!" she hissed. I picked up a tee shirt, panties and grabbed leggings out of the dresser and handed them to her. She disappeared under the comforter to get dressed. He was staring at her moving form under the covers and turned to me. "I'll bet she's tight as a virgin, isn't she, Mulder? Shirtless I went to Krycek, grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the bedroom. "Free show's over, asshole," I growled, feeling rage burn through every cell in my body. He followed me docilely into the living room, looking for all the world like he had every right to be there. I needed to get him away from Scully and my weapon was in my holster hanging on the back of her dining room chair. I sighed when I saw it still there. I grabbed it and slung it over my shoulder. He laughed and shook his head. "If I meant to do you harm, I would have done it while you were ... distracted," he taunted. "Fuck you." He chuckled. "Did you know you look like a giant fucking a little girl?" "Shut the fuck up! I'm not interested in your observations. You had no right to see that!" He raised an eyebrow. "You made her come twice. I'm impressed. Of course, fucking her with that pole must make it a little easier." He'd seen the whole thing. I opened my mouth as I vibrated with rage. Then I realized that was what he wanted, for me to lose control. I took several deep breaths and brought my breathing under control, clenching and unclenching my fists. I gave him a dirty look. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I repeated my question. "I came to warn you of something." "Yeah, right." Scully emerged fully dressed, a big sweater over her tee shirt, hiding her frame. I felt horrible that she had been leered at, even worse that I hadn't heard him come in. I looked at the front door that was slightly ajar. Nothing was forced so he must have picked the lock. I strode over to it and pushed it shut. Scully stood at the edge of the couch, her back ramrod straight, her face tense and guarded. I returned and placed myself between him and her, not liking the way he looked at her. He taunted me further when he leaned to the side in an exaggerated fashion to see around me as though staring at her body. It was an involuntary reaction when my hand flew up and popped him in the jaw ... hard. His head snapped back on his neck, and his hand flew to his face. The sound of flesh smacking flesh echoed slightly in the room. He staggered backwards but then caught his balance, spreading his legs. He looked up at me and I saw a feral anger flash in his eyes for a second. Then he buried it and straightened up, that quirky, irritating smile back on his face. "Is that any way to treat a guest?" "You're no fucking guest. You're an intruder. You leer at her again and the next time I'll knock you unconscious. Now tell me what the fuck you want and then get the hell out!" I was shouting by the time I finished. He licked his lips and frowned. "My ... employers asked me to find out what you know. I wasn't aware of it, but apparently they asked Diana to get to you too. Double insurance, I guess." I sucked in my breath, my worst fears confirmed. I glanced at Scully over my shoulder and she looked genuinely sad. I turned back to Krycek. "And you're telling me this ... why?" "Because she failed. The only way she knows how to operate is use sex to control the men in her life. But you know all about that, don't you, Mulder?" I scowled at him, gritting my teeth. I opened my mouth and let him see me gritting my teeth. I clenched my fists at my side, feeling the reassuring press of my shoulder holster against my bare ribs. Scully spoke up. "Get to the point, Krycek. You attacked us yesterday. Why should we believe anything you say?" He smiled. "You knew it was me, huh?" Neither of us responded. It was rhetorical. "That brother of yours isn't a bad shot. Too bad he hit my prosthesis. Made my shoulder go numb, but no injury." He raised his glove-covered prosthesis and waved it back and forth to prove his point. "Get to the fucking point before I decide it's easier to just put a bullet in your head." He sighed. "All right, touchy, touchy." He tilted his head to the side and then said, "She's desperate, and she's not thinking right." "And so?" I asked. "She has this crazy idea that she's going to take Dana out and then rush in like the cavalry for you and be your old friend. That's how she plans to get to you." "She'd fail," I said with conviction. "I know that, and I've told her that, but she doesn't want to listen." "So what do you want us to do? So you told us. We suspected all this anyway. Not the why, but we suspected Diana." "How?" he asked, seemingly genuinely interested. Scully spoke up again. "She left a calling card." He raised his eyebrows. "When?" "This morning," I answered. "A shoebox with a dead kitten in it. Very tasteful." He chuffed out a breath. "And how do you know it was her?" Scully answered, "She left her lipstick tube in the box. Or put it there purposely. The brand she wears, knowing Mulder would recognize it." Krycek pulled his brows together, looking truly confused. "That's stupid ... and sloppy. Doesn't sound like her at all." He was silent a moment. I asked, "How do you know this is her plan? Did she tell you? Pillow talk?" I taunted. He grinned then, biting the inside of his cheek. He seemed highly amused. "No, she's dingy enough to keep a journal and I read it." Scully made an inarticulate sound like, "Humph. Nice to know you respect your friend's privacy as well as you do ours," she said sarcastically. He merely smiled again, immune to our taunts. He became serious again. "It doesn't make sense. If she tipped her hand as to her identity and you knew it was her if something happened to Dana, that would blow her plan to hell and gone." I didn't like what he was saying. It made sense. And I hated it when Krycek made sense. Scully came up along side me and we glanced at each other. I could see the same questions in her eyes. "He's right, Mulder. That doesn't make sense." "I don't want to believe it's her, but then again, I don't want to be stupid either and let my ... past perceptions of her get in the way. She's not the same woman I knew, Scully. I know that now." "Let me sniff around," Krycek said. We both looked at him. I asked, "Why do you want to help us? That doesn't make sense either." "My employers don't want you dead, either one of you. Diana is going rogue on this one. I think her personal feelings for you are getting in the way. Like I said, she isn't thinking straight. But even so, I'd be surprised if she was so sloppy, or openly tipped her hand. She's a vindictive bitch, but she's not stupid." I smirked at that. "You have a high opinion of her, don't you? I thought you were on the same side." "And what side would that be?" he asked. Scully glared at him. "The opposite side." He laughed then. "You don't know me at all," he said. Scully retorted, "And I don't want to." "Ouch, that stings a little," he said. "Tough shit," I commented without remorse. He just smiled. "Well, I'm going to see what I can find out. She did plan to scare Dana, maybe even kill her but at least scare her away from you so she could move in. Whether you believe me or not, I don't want either of you hurt." Scully scowled. "I didn't even know what I was being warned away from! This is ridiculous." Krycek nodded. "That's why it doesn't make sense. I'd bet she didn't leave that box." "None of this makes sense; the warnings, you shooting at us one day and warning us the next. Why should we listen to you?" He sighed. "I told her I would take a shot at you. But I never intended to hit you. I just needed to placate her and make her think I was on her side. If I'd wanted to kill you, you'd be dead." He paused. "And you know it. I missed on purpose." My mind spun. The absurd thing was, I didn't think he was lying right now. I believed he hadn't meant to hit Scully or I. I knew he was a good shot. And he seemed genuinely confused about Diana. Of course, we knew he was an extraordinary actor, but still. "I don't know what to say," I said finally. "Leave us alone. If you really want to help, stop Diana's maniacal plan." "I'll try. Next time, I'll knock ..." His lips jerked up into a smile. "That is, if you promise not to shoot me on the spot." I just made as sound of disgust and thought again of getting Scully a hard-wired alarm system. He went out the door, closing it behind him. I turned and took Scully in my arms. She was stiff with tension. I massaged her back muscles gently and she relaxed against me, wrapping her arms around my waist. She pulled back and made a face at my holster. I gave her a sheepish look and removed it, depositing it on back on the dining room chair. We embraced again and I nuzzled her hair. Neither of us knew what to say. Finally she sighed and said, "This whole thing doesn't fit. Something's missing. Or we are missing something obvious. I just can't figure what it is." "Well, trying to take Krycek's word for anything is not my forte. But something tells me he was thrown by the idea of Diana leaving a calling card. And now that I think about it ... she can be devious. I've never wanted to believe she was vindictive and vicious, but she is clever and she isn't stupid." "If he's right about her plan. He might be wrong." "She wrote it in a journal." "We only have his word for that," she reminded me. "You asked him how he knew and taunted him ... pillow talk? Do you think he and Diana are lovers?" I shuddered. "God, I hope not." She pulled away slightly and looked up at me with an odd look on her face. I blinked slowly. "Look Scully, I don't have feelings for her anymore, but that doesn't mean I want to believe the worst about her." "How much evidence do you need before you start believing that her motives aren't pure?" she asked, sounding agitated. "I don't believe she's pure in any way, shape or form. I just want to believe that even if she was trying to get information, she wouldn't intentionally hurt me." She looked at me with a look that was rather sad. I had expected anger, not her pity. And it struck me deep. "I'm not stupid either, Scully." "I didn't say you were." "You didn't have to. I know that look. I hate it when you pity me." She sighed. "I don't pity you, Mulder. I just think that you're too close and there's too much history between you and Diana for you to be objective. That's all. It's perfectly normal. It would be like trying to convince me ..." I looked her in the eye, "That Jack Willis was a invaded by a homicidal maniac's spirit?" She hung her head and sighed. "That was different." "How?" She looked at me again. "I don't want to argue about this anymore." "Neither do I. But I don't want it to come between us, either." I put my hands on her shoulders and she was forced to look at me. "Whatever I say or do in regard to Diana, I need for you believe that my heart and soul belong to you ... no matter what." She smiled and I saw her eyes get wet. She hugged me again. "I know, Mulder. Ditto." I smiled into her hair. "I now believe that Diana has ulterior motives. I just don't know what they are. And I don't believe she's homicidal. I just don't." She turned my example around on me. "I didn't believe Jack was either," she said softly. She lifted her head and we looked at each other for a long time. I said, "We have to look at the evidence." She smiled. "You, not go with your gut? Go with the hard evidence instead?" Her voice was teasing. I smiled. "This time, yeah. I can't trust my gut." She leaned in and kissed me. "We'll figure this out." "Yes, we will." "What if I confront her?" "Diana?" "Who else are we talking about?" I asked blandly. "No," she said emphatically. "Why not? If I push hard enough, she's bound to crack." "Why, because you know her so well?" she threw at me, sounding angry again. "Scully, you don't need to worry about this." "What are you talking about?" She pulled away from me and turned her back, crossing her arms under her breasts. "I mean," I said softly, "that you do not need to be jealous of Diana or anything that I may have had with her in the past. It doesn't even come close to what I have with you." She turned to look at me and snapped. "I'm not jealous. But damn it, Mulder, can you blame me for not wanting you to go spend some quality time with her? Things can happen, despite your best intentions." She looked at her feet, toeing at the carpet in a nervous gesture. I felt her words like a blow to the chest and felt my eyes sting. My voice came out a pathetic whisper. "You don't trust me." Her eyes snapped up to mine. "Oh, Mulder. Of course I trust you. I DON'T TRUST HER!" I swallowed heavily. "If you trust me, then you don't need to trust her." "What's that supposed to mean?" "We've had this discussion before only the roles were reversed. Remember? It means ... that if you trust me ... completely ... then you trust that if she were to make a move on me, I will turn her down, push her away, whatever. And if you trust me to do that, then you don't need to trust her." "This isn't about sex!" "Isn't it?" "No!" She huffed an exasperated sigh. "I know you love me, Mulder, and I trust you." She made eye contact. "You KNOW I trust you. But ... she could trap you somehow ... I don't know. You're just not naturally suspicious of her." "I am now." She held my gaze for a while. "Are you?" she asked softly. "Yes. I want to know what the fuck she's up to. And I don't appreciate her playing on our past friendship to gain whatever it is that she wants. I despise behavior like that. I don't want to be used. And I feel like I'm being used. And I especially don't like her threatening you. If that's in fact what she's doing, I won't tolerate it." She kept looking at me. I stared back, trying to convey my sincerity. "I believe you," she said softly. "I still don't want you to go." I sighed. "What if you come with me?" She tilted her head. "You'd take me with you?" "I'm not going to go without your approval, Scully." "You don't need my approval." "I know that. But I want it. I promised I was through ditching you. And I mean to keep that promise. I'm not going to go behind your back, especially about this. It's too touchy a subject between us." She walked up to me slowly again and unwound her arms. She held them out and I stepped into her, enfolding her again. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm still just ... I don't know ... sometimes I'm so afraid of losing you." "I'm afraid of losing you too, Scully. Don't you think that door swings both ways? And you're the one being threatened here. Not me. I'm only in danger of being used. Your life may be on the line!" She was silent for a long moment. "I'll go with you." I sighed in relief, knowing we'd made it over one more hurdle in our relationship. I had promised never to take off again without letting her know where I was going. I fully intended to honor that promise. But until I proved it, there would always be that kernel of doubt in her mind. I wanted to erase it. I intended to erase it. And it would start with how we handled this situation. I whispered, "We'll handle this like we handle everything else, Scully." I paused. "Together." "Together," she agreed. PART 4 (NC-17) WATERGATE APARTMENTS EARLY SATURDAY MORNING NOVEMBER 24, 2001 I knocked soundly on Diana's apartment door. I had a queer feeling in my stomach despite my determination to remain detached. I didn't want to see this woman, but I wanted Mulder to see her alone even less. And if she taunted me or threw her past relationship with Mulder in my face, I might have to hurt her. I heard footsteps on the hardwood floor. They stopped. After a pause, where I assume she was looking out the peephole, I heard the chain disengage and the door swing open. She was wearing a bathrobe and ... probably nothing else. Her hair was sleep tousled and she obviously hadn't been up. "What are you doing here?" she asked, looking at Mulder and not even acknowledging my presence. "We came to talk to you," he said calmly. Her lip curled up. "Ever hear of calling first? I wasn't even awake." "We wanted to be sure and catch you in," he replied. She rolled her eyes and stepped back, waving us in. We stepped in and I looked around. The place was relatively neat with some clutter of magazines and such on the coffee table. She headed down a hallway off the back of the living room and said, "Have a seat. I'm going to put something on." "Good," I muttered under my breath. Mulder jabbed me lightly in the ribs and I looked up giving him my innocent look. He chuckled silently, smiling at me. "Don't start," he whispered. "Who me?" I threw back. He sighed heavily and I touched his arm. He brought his eyes back to mine and I said, "Sorry, I know I'm being catty." His hand cupped my cheek and I turned my face into it. "A little jealousy is nice. Lets me know you care." I grinned at him. "No doubts about that, are there?" He shook his head. Just then, Diana cleared her throat and we jerked away from each other. She regarded us with barely concealed disdain. "Did you come here to place touchy, touchy, or to talk to me? Because I wouldn't mind doing this another time. "Sorry," Mulder mumbled. She gestured toward the couch. She'd put on jeans and a bulky sweater and pulled her hair into a messy ponytail. She sat in a wing back chair and crossed her legs. She wasn't wearing socks or shoes and her toenails were painted fire engine red. "So what was so urgent that you had to roust me out of bed at 6:00 AM, Fox?" We both winced at her use of his first name. "Call me, Mulder, please." She made a sound of disgust. "Oh for Christ's sake, ... Mul..der." She obviously thought it was ridiculous. He looked at her; I could feel the tension building and I wasn't even touching him. Just by the way he sat, I could see him coiling and pulling up his walls. Good. I didn't want him vulnerable in front of her. "Some things have happened lately and circumstances have led us to believe ... you are somehow involved." She raised an eyebrow. "What sorts of things?" "Why don't you tell us?" I asked. She finally looked at me, acknowledging me for the first time. "I don't have a clue what you're talking about." Mulder bit his bottom lip and then asked, "Diana, who do you work for?" She looked amused for a second and then said, "The Federal Bureau of Investigation." Her tone was mocking. He stared at her, not amused. "Don't play games with me," he said. "Play games with you?!" she asked incredulously. "You barge in here at 6:00 AM to ask me who I work for, give vague references to something happening and imply that I'm involved. But you haven't really said anything yet to explain your presence here. Who's playing games?" I swallowed. The bitch could be convincing. I had to give her that. I cut in. "I was at my mother's Thursday for Thanksgiving. As we were leaving, someone took a shot at us." Her eyebrows went up. "Oh really?" "Yes, really." I repeated. "We chased him, and he got away, but we're sure it was Krycek." She frowned. "And this has ... what? ... to do with me?" Mulder spoke up. "He came by our place last night and said you sent him to do it. To scare Scully." She barked out a laugh, looked at us smiling, and then burst out laughing. She shook her head, swallowed her laughter and said, "You can't be serious." "As a heart attack," I said. She sobered. "What makes you think I could tell Krycek to do anything? The little prick doesn't answer to me. Wish he did, but he doesn't." "Then you're well acquainted?" I asked, the insinuation implicit in my tone. She regarded me like I was a retarded child. "I know who he is. That's about it. I don't like him. He doesn't like me. End of story. So what?" "He said he knew of your having a plan to mess with Scully and take her out of my life. You could then move in and get information from me because you have been ordered to do so." Her face went slack and her eyes went wide. "You can't be serious. He said that?" "Yes," Mulder replied firmly. And he stared at her. They engaged in a staring contest that left me feeling extremely left out. I finally couldn't stand it anymore. "So how do you plead?" I asked, only half- serious. "Plead?" she asked, still not taking her eyes off Mulder. I waved my hand in front of his face and he turned to look at me, his blank mask in place. Diana smiled, clearly amused. "I plead ... not guilty. I don't know where he got that idea. I don't know what you're talking about and I'm pretty pissed off that you're accusing me of something with seemingly no evidence." Late last night, Mulder and I had made a trip to lab only to find out that they had found no prints, no fibers, nothing in the box, on the wax paper or the cat or the lipstick tube. We left them to bag it as evidence, but not before Mulder had snatched the tube. He looked at her now and asked calmly, "Still wear 'Via Pr=E8ve' lipstick, Diana?" She blotted her lips like you do after applying lipstick and smiled. "Yes. Why? Would you like me to put some on?" Mulder reached into the pocket of his trench coat that he had not removed. I was still wearing mine too. His hand emerged and he held up the tube, top out, so she could read it. She leaned forward and squinted. "Yup. That's a ' Via Pr=E8ve' lipstick tube all right," she said calmly. "Missing any tubes, Diana?" She sat back and squinted at him again. It made her look ugly, I thought. I'd always thought her mouth looked sloppy anyway. And lipstick accentuated it. She looked better without it. What an inane thing to think about. "Not that I know of." "Well this was found inside a shoebox that was left outside Scully's apartment door." She tilted her head to the side. "And?" "It was accompanied by a dead kitten that had its throat cut. An orange ... dead kitten." Her eyes went wide. "My God." She sat up straight. She looked at me and back at Mulder, who had sat the tube down on her coffee table. "And you think I did that?" Mulder held her gaze. "What else are we supposed to think when we find that inside? You would know that I would recognize it." She moved her jaw to one side and back again. A nervous gesture? "You do have an eidetic memory. But I'm telling you, I didn't do it." We both stared at her and she fidgeted a little, uncrossing her legs. She leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees, her hands hanging negligently between her legs. She said, "I don't know what to say. I don't know how to make you believe it. But I didn't do it." She paused. She sounded sincere, but didn't she always? That was why she was so dangerous. "Can I look at your collection of lipstick?" She actually got a hurt look on her face and her mouth opened, hung there and then closed. She licked her lips. "If you must." Mulder actually looked like he felt guilty pushing the issue. But then he said, "Look, if it wasn't you, then you have nothing to worry about. Just show me your make up collection and ..." She stood up abruptly and headed for the bathroom. Mulder stood up, looking tentative. He shrugged and followed her. I jumped up and followed. We entered the bathroom to find Diana opening her cupboard under the sink and her medicine cabinet. She left them hanging wide open and brushed by us with jerky movements giving away her agitation. She went into the kitchen saying, "I'm going to put on some coffee." Mulder and I methodically went through her cabinet. I checked the opened tampon boxes and everything. We found nothing. There was a small bag under the sink with blush, eye shadow, mascara and eyeliner. And two tubes of ' Via Pr=E8ve ' lipstick, both in tact, with both tops and bottoms. Mulder carefully put everything back where we found it, closed the door and went back into the living room with me on his heels. Diana was sitting in her chair again, now with a mug of coffee cradled between her hands and resting on her chest. She looked up at us, her face blank. Mulder looked at her and said, "I'm sorry, Diana. I had to check." She nodded curtly, put her coffee mug on the coffee table and stood up. She looked at us and said, "Get out." "One more question," I said. She and Mulder both turned to me. Mulder looked expectant. She looked pissed. "Do you keep a journal?" She scrunched her eyebrows together, clearly puzzled at the question. "No," she answered smoothly. She tapped her temple. "I keep all my nefarious deeds up here," clearly mocking me. "Diana," Mulder's voice held a warning. She looked at him. "What? I don't appreciate this, Fox ... uh, Mulder," she said as she rolled her eyes again. I asked, "Look, Diana, I know we've never been friends ..." "Ha!" she barked out. Mulder gave her a warning stare again. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. I continued, "But someone wants us to think this is you. And whether you believe it or not, I don't want it to be you." She looked at me again. "Why not? You've hated my guts since the day you laid eyes on me." I took a deep breath, reigning in my temper. I met her eyes and held them. "Why not? Because it would hurt Mulder to know that someone he once cared deeply for, and still wants to consider a friend, would betray him. And if you believe nothing else about me ... you can believe that I never want to see Mulder hurt." Her face softened. "Neither do I, Agent Scully." We stared at each other for a moment. She didn't even blink. Then she said softly, "I didn't do it." With that, she turned and walked back into the kitchen, effectively dismissing us. Mulder's hand reached out as if he would follow her. I touched his arm and shook my head and then turned towards the door. He followed me silently and we let ourselves out. XXXXXXXXXX It was a quiet ride back to Scully's apartment. I felt terrible. I believed Diana, but I was afraid to say so. I feared Scully's reaction. I decided to wait for her to talk first, but it looked like I was in for a long wait. Once inside her apartment, we shed our coats and she went to the kitchen to make tea without saying a word. I sat on the couch and rested my head in my hands, trying to still my racing thoughts. What was I missing? We had jumped to conclusions and Krycek had led us along. Who did I believe? Diana? Krycek? I didn't trust either one of them, no matter what Scully thought. She returned with two steaming mugs of tea and handed me one. She sat on the sofa and pulled her legs up underneath her, reclining against the arm of the couch. She looked at me and said, "I hate to admit this, but I believe her." I lifted my head and looked at her cautiously, waiting. I knew there was more. She looked at me calmly. "I doubted her right up until the last few minutes. When she looked me in the eyes, I believed her." She paused. "Maybe I'm an idiot, and she's that good of an actress. But I want to believe I can read people better than that." I decided defending Diana outright at this point was still a bad idea. Scully's belief was tentative. Instead, I focused on the other end of the problem, the other player. "Krycek has lied to us before." She replied, "He's told us the truth before too." "But we KNOW he's lied before. But Diana ... we think she may have lied, but we never really had any proof of that." She looked at me and blinked slowly. "You're right." "Did you want it to be her?" I whispered. "Didn't you hear me back there in her apartment?" "Yes, but I don't know if that was for her benefit or not." I saw the flash of hurt in her eyes before she quickly covered it with rapid blinking and took a sip of her tea. "I meant what I said, Mulder." I scooted down the couch and opened my arms. She put down her tea and slid under my arm, her head on my chest. She sighed deeply. "Now what?" "Now we need to find Krycek. Maybe the boys can find him and tail him." "Maybe if they find him, they can slap a tracking device on him." "That would be good," I said, knowing how implausible that was. She chuckled mirthlessly and silently against my chest. Her voice was soft and subdued. "I don't know what to do now, Mulder." "Me neither." We held each other for a long time, saying nothing, sipping our tea. Then she stood and pulled her sweater off over her head. I gasped at the sight of her bare breasts. I hadn't realized she wasn't wearing a bra. The bulky sweater hid everything. The sight of her giving herself, offering herself to me could still take my breath away. I smiled. "So beautiful." She smiled in return and shucked off her jeans, panties and socks. I toed off my sneakers and stood up, pulling my shirt over my head. She deftly unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down, taking my boxers with them. My rapidly hardening cock sprung free of its confines and bumped her belly like an anxious kid. She smiled again and took me in hand. I moaned as she stroked me. "Oh, that always feels so good." She pushed gently and I sat down on the couch. She slowly straddled my thighs. I reached for her juncture, but she stopped me and brought my hand to her breast instead. I cupped it and measured the weight in my palm. She leaned in and licked my lips. I held still, my mouth opening as she paused, breathing on my lips. The moist air eddied around my lips and I licked them in anticipation. Her tongue traveled the length of my upper lip from one corner to another. When I leaned into her, she leaned back, teasing me. My breath hitched in my throat. She leaned in again and licked the bottom lip. This time though, when she was done, she sucked my bottom lip into her mouth and sucked gently, her own tongue waving back and forth over the inside skin. I moaned and leaned in again, not to be put off this time. I sealed my mouth over hers and plunged my tongue into her mouth, feeling her breasts brush my chest. I surged to fully erect and bucked against her. She raised slowly and I felt her nether lips. They were warm, swollen, and very wet. I could never believe how quickly she was ready for me. She grasped me firmly and guided me to her entrance. I held her waist steady as she sank down, wiggling her hips to seat herself firmly. We both groaned and resumed kissing as she undulated against me, her ass brushing my balls with every tilt of her hips. She was barely moving and the sensations were incredible. I crushed her to me and she kept circling her hips against mine with me fully embedded in her warm sheath. "Love you," I whispered. "Love you too," she whispered back. Her hands went to my shoulders and she braced herself. She began lifting and falling faster and harder. I began thrusting up into her, but we were still being very gentle and lethargic. It was so erotic, like a slow motion dance. Her face flushed and I bent my head down to capture her nipple. She cried out when I suckled her and her head fell back. I peered up to take in the sight. Her hands went to my head, holding me to her breast and I suckled like a babe, sucking and releasing, lapping her nipple with my tongue as I sucked. She began to moan continuously and embedded me firmly again and resumed her thrusting of her hips in a circular motion against mine, crushing her clit between us. I grasped her ass cheeks and aided in her movements, speeding them up. She kissed me again but then suddenly broke the kiss, gasping. She went still for about a second and thrust quickly against me, grinding her pubic bone against me as I felt her internal muscles massage my aching cock. I groaned and let go of my own release, feeling my seed surge in slow, powerful spurts inside her warmth. We both gasped. I fell back and she collapsed on my chest. When our breathing returned to normal she hummed in her throat. "That was very nice." "Very nice?" "Yes. Slow ... but powerful." I hummed in agreement and lifted her head and kissed her gently. Without a word, we stood, scooping up our clothes and heading for the shower. Tomorrow was another day. XXXXXXXXXX As it turned out, we didn't have any more investigating to do. The trouble came to us. We emerged to go to breakfast the next day, and I spied something out of the corner of my eye. I backed Scully behind me and pressed her into the building. "What?" she hissed. "There's someone around the corner." "Who?" "I don't know, but when I glanced that way, they ducked around the corner." "You go one way, I'll go the other." "No way. We stay together this time." She pried herself out from behind me. "Should we go back in and get our weapons?" "Probably." "You're not going to though, are you?" "They'll be gone if we go back inside." "They're probably already gone while we stand here jabbering." I jerked my head toward the corner of the building and we headed to the opposite corner where I'd saw someone duck out of sight. We circled the building, seeing nothing. When we reached the last corner, I peered around the corner and saw nothing. I sighed, "I don't see anyone." "Let's go back the other way." I followed her as she strode back the way we came. As she reached the corner and went to turn into the alleyway, someone grabbed her arm and yanked her forcefully out of sight. "Scully!" I shouted. I lunged. But someone hit me in the back of head and my vision swam. I spun unsteadily, seeing double and Krycek's face blurred before me. I backed away on unsteady feet. "You bastard!" He grabbed my jacket. "Let me handle this! Trust me!" "Like hell!" I shouted, jerking out of his hold, feeling my equilibrium return with my anger. I trotted as fast as my spinning head would allow toward the alley, hearing scuffling. Krycek jumped me from behind and put me in a chokehold. "You DON'T know what she's capable of. Let me handle this!" he hissed in my ear. "FUCK YOU! She who? Diana?" He laughed that maniacal laugh of his and shoved me hard toward the building. My face impacted with the brick and my head spun again. Stupidly I thought, 'that's gonna leave a mark,' as I felt my skin on my cheek slide down the brick building, my knees giving out. I stumbled to my feet as Krycek bolted around me and headed for the alley. I staggered after him, my vision swimming. What the hell did he hit me with? That fucking pistol again? I heard him shout, "Knock it off!" I heard more scuffles, Scully yelling, "You fucking bitch!" I staggered again, leaning on the building. Another female voice echoed down the alley as I heard sirens in the distance. "I HATE YOU, YOU RED HEADED BITCH!" Then Alex, "Leave it, the cops are coming, you idiot." "FUCK YOU, I HATE YOU TOO!" That voice! I recognized it! And it wasn't Diana. What the fuck?! I gritted my teeth and surged away from the building, stumbling around the corner into the alley. Scully stood huffing, crouched and ready to swing. Krycek had a woman in a chokehold now. He said, "We're out of here. She won't bother you again. I'm putting her silly ass on a boat. Time to go back across the pond, baby doll." "Nooooooo!" she howled. He wrenched her violently back and forth. She was easily as tall as he was. "I can believe you did this, you pretty idiot! God, I thought it was Diana!" he growled at her. "Holy Shit," I muttered. Scully turned to face me. My head swam as I looked at Krycek and the woman in his arms. The woman looked at me and said, "Damn it, you always win." I croaked out three words before the world spun. "My God! Phoebe." And then everything went black. FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT NOVEMBER 26, 2001 MONDAY, 7:00 PM The next couple of days were interesting. Mulder had received two bumps on the head in as many days and was experiencing dizzy spells. I had him thoroughly checked out and although he was in no danger, he couldn't drive and he certainly couldn't work until the swelling went down. He hissed and winced as I laid a fresh ice pack on the back of his head and gently replaced it against the back of the couch. "How you doing there?" I asked softly. He looked at me, only his eyes moving. "About the same. A little better. I'm less dizzy, but it still smarts like hell." "It will for a few days." I had lunged for Mulder when he passed out in the alleyway, easing his decent to the pavement. I checked his vitals and looked up. And they were gone. Just like that. I hadn't had time to worry about it as a cop car pulled up and blocked the alleyway. I'd flashed my badge and he'd called for an ambulance without asking any questions. We took Mulder to Alexandria General and had him X-rayed and his bumps iced down. I had them do an MRI too, just in case. Everything checked out fine, thank God. We were both still reeling from the bizarre conclusion of these events. Phoebe. Who knew? She was apparently completely cracked. As she swung and punched at me, landing a few good blows, she had hissed and spat at me, calling me all kinds of names and threatening to take me out yet. Unbelievably, Krycek had saved me. I was no slouch, but the woman had seven inches and 30 pounds on me and she knew how to fight ... like a girl. Women were actually harder to fight than men, because they didn't hesitate when faced with another woman, and they didn't punch. They tended to slap and claw and kick ... and all around fight dirty. Why didn't Krycek let her have me? Why had he stopped her? Just when I was sure I should hate him, he would do something to help us. None of it made sense. We still didn't know what side he was on. We'd put out an APB on both her and Krycek but had no expectations of catching up with them. Krycek would get her out of the country, no doubt. I didn't know how to feel about that. She was obviously psychotic and should be locked up. Knowing she was wandering around out there didn't make me very happy. But there was nothing I could do about it now. We didn't know if Phoebe had been hired, was acting on her own delusions, or was working with Krycek. He obviously knew her and that disturbed Mulder, I could tell, but he wasn't willing to talk about it yet. I knew Phoebe was one person he was really reluctant to discuss, even more so than Diana. She had worked him over good and he had never forgiven her. He almost did when she'd waltzed in her a few years ago looking for help on her case. I'd seen him kiss her in that hotel, so distracted he didn't know the fucking place was on fire. But then I'd had the last laugh, when he'd caught her with the Senator and later when I nursed him in the hotel room and he spurned her when she stopped by to check on him. I knew he was humiliated by that experience and I didn't push it. But now the implications of her knowing Krycek were staggering. She was Scotland Yard. If she was working for the Consortium too, it would mean we had more eyes on us than we had thought. It was a conversation for another day. He lifted his arm and I scooted under it in my customary position with my head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mulder." "For what?" "For the way this all worked out. That it was Phoebe. That I blamed Diana ... just everything. I'm sorry." I hurt for him inside. He sighed. "It's all right. Nothing to be sorry for. We stuck together the whole way. I shouldn't have been taken by surprise again by Krycek. I could kick myself. It bugs the hell out of me that he saved you. It should have been me." I chuckled. "I didn't need saving, Mulder. I was just flexing my claws. I would have kicked her ass." He chuckled and then winced, bringing his free hand up to anchor the ice pack. "Ouch." "Sorry." He smiled. "Don't make me laugh right now." "Deal." "Just cuddle me?" he asked. "Definitely a deal," I said snuggling into his side. XXXXXXXXXX WATERGATE APARTMENTS NOVEMBER 26, 2001 MONDAY, NOON I answered the door and said, "What the hell are you doing here? Alex said you were leaving." "I am, but I left something here." "What?" "It's in the bedroom." She waltzed past me and I followed her. She got down on her knees and reached under the bed. "What the hell are you doing?" She emerged with a hard cover notebook and stood up. "I forgot my journal. I'm going back to England now. Thanks for letting me use your place the other night." "No problem," I mumbled as I followed her to the door. I let her out and bolted the door behind her. Alex emerged from the kitchen and smiled at me. "Do you really think she'll go back?" "I bought her a ticket, but I doubt it." "We need to keep an eye on her, Alex. She's a loose cannon." "I know." "Why are you still protecting her?" He leered and waggled his eyebrows. "Oh Jesus Christ, you're still competing with Fox to get your dick wet?" I said in disgust. His smile faded. "I don't need to compete. I have something she wants. She'll be back." "And what's that? Dicks are a dime a dozen." He laughed. "Ah, but it's what I'm willing to do with mine." I sighed in disgust. "Well, here's hoping she doesn't have anything catching. God knows where that cunt has been." He scowled and I laughed. "That's gross," he said. "Never thought of that did you?" He was silent. "If you've dipped your wick there, I'd go get tested, buddy." "I'm not your buddy." "No, you're not. Go home, Alex." "What if I don't want to." He approached me and pulled me to him with a hand on my ass. "Let go." "Make me." "Get tested." He clucked his tongue. "I mean it. That equipment gets nowhere near me till you hand me written proof that you're clean." "You're becoming a prude, you know that, Diana." "No, I'm a survivor. Be careful or you'll end up dead from AIDS." He snorted. "I'll be back, Di." I sighed as he made his way to the door and let himself out. After the door closed I whispered, "Unfortunately, I'm sure you will be." THE END. Donnilee http://donnilee.tripod.com "The armchair is the neurotic's spaceship." Bob Earle "When you talk to God, they call it prayer. When God talks to you, they call it schizophrenia." - Fox Mulder