From: Tnv099@aol.com Date: Mon, 25 Jun 2001 23:01:06 EDT Subject: To Love Somebody by: Char Chaffin and Tess Source: direct Title: To Love Somebody By: Tess and Char Chaffin Category: Mulder/Other, Mulder/Scully Rating: R to NC-17 Spoilers: "Never Again", "Irresistible", "Gethsemane", "Redux I and II", and other spots during season 4 and 5 Disclaimers: Ours to play with, ours to love - not ours to profit from! Author's Notes: At the end! Feeback: you know we'd adore it! Tnv099@aol.com and char@chaffin.com Summary: In the midst of attempting to have a normal romance, Mulder's escalating feelings for Scully, and her deteriorating health due to her advancing cancer, make it impossible for him to commit... To Love Somebody ~ Prologue ~ "...There's a light - a certain kind of light that's never shone on me..." "So... tell me about your young man." "Well, there's not much to tell, Gran. He's a Federal Agent... FBI. I don't know much about his job, yet. We've been dating about a month, and it's been fun, so far. He's very sweet; I think you'd like him." "Hmmph. If you'd ever bring him over so I can meet him... maybe I could see for myself. What's he look like? Handsome? You deserve someone handsome, Lillian." "Gran! Yes, he's very handsome. Tall and slender, with dark brown hair and the loveliest hazel eyes. Very nice smile. He can be shy sometimes... and he has this great sense of humor. He's the kind of guy you're proud to be seen with, you know?" "Hazel eyes, huh? Your grandfather had hazel eyes. They were so clear they could make me melt at twenty paces... So. When's the wedding? I'm not getting any younger, y'know." "GRAN! We've only gone on maybe four dates! I haven't even met his family yet!" "Well, what's the hold-up, eh? You're not getting any younger either, Lilly. I'd like to hold a few great-grandkids in my arms once before I die. You're my only granddaughter, my love... don't make me wait too long." "For heaven's sake, Gran... you're only seventy! And you run rings around all of us, even me! Look, I have to go. I've got a lunch date. I promise we'll come over, maybe this weekend, okay? You'll get to meet him, if he's agreeable. As I said, it's early days still; I don't want to jinx this. He could end up being somebody very important in my life. I'll let you know, okay? But right now I'm running late. I don't want to keep Fox waiting..." I remember that conversation as if it happened yesterday, instead of over two years ago... we'd only just begun getting to know one another and I was eager and needy and trying so hard to hide it. Fox was the first man I had dated in a long time that made me feel as if anything could be possible in my life. And don't get me wrong; these last few years have been wonderful. Fox is wonderful. He's romantic and loving and funny and just so sweet. Sometimes my feelings for him make me ache. I fell in love with him on our third date, and after two years I am no closer to knowing for sure if he loves me in return. Oh, I know he cares for me a great deal. I can feel it in the way he touches me, makes love to me. A woman can tell when a man cherishes her - and Fox cherishes me. But, love? Oh, I just don't know... once, about six months ago, I thought maybe he'd say it. Maybe, I'd finally hear the words. He'd taken me to a little country inn outside of Boston, for the weekend. It was my thirtieth birthday, and he'd devoted the entire weekend to making me happy. We'd gone out to dinner and dancing; had gone hiking in the hills and had made love out under the stars. I had come so close to telling him, saying those words to him. I'd held them inside for a very long time, wanting so much to tell him but always not quite finding the right moment - not feeling the right vibe from Fox. It was as if a piece of him was cooler than the rest; as fiercely as he could give me physical love, that cool piece edged out the vital words I'd been expecting to hear, after we'd both collapsed against each other and our bodies cooled in the night. This particular weekend was no different... We'd gone dancing again, and we'd both had one too many. We'd walked back to the inn and on the way there we'd found a little copse of trees far away from the lights of the inn and the security lamps dotting some of the lanes. A small circle of the night sky was visible above the close-knit leafy tree-tops, and it was here that Fox laid me on the cool grass and removed my clothes, kissing each bared spot of skin tenderly. He'd used his hands and his beautiful lips to stroke me and caress my skin until I was on fire with it, with the need to scream aloud my love for him. He'd parted my thighs and slipped between them with one long, smooth glide of hard silky flesh, and had buried himself so deeply within me that I could feel him touch my soul. To me, it had to be love; what else could it be? With every thrust I felt he was calling to me, telling me of his devotion. He wouldn't make such exquisite love to just any woman; this I could not believe. All that passionate tenderness; the wealth of reverence I could sense in each touch of his trembling fingertips, as he drove harder, and deeper... The way his mouth clung to mine and his tongue copied each delicious movement of his body... He had to love me. He had to. And he'd tell me; this time Fox would say the words... "Lilly... God. It was wonderful... you are wonderful. Thank you for coming with me... thank you." I lay underneath his warm body in the cool summer night and wondered why, after having given me so much of himself, Fox Mulder couldn't bring himself to say those few simple words that would make my world complete. Six months later I am still wondering. **************** ~ Chapter One ~ I used to think that someday, when I got what I wanted in life, I would be happy. I'd treasure these things, cherish them, and never again complain that life is not fair to me. When my maturity came and stretched out to accommodate my advancing years, and I not only didn't get what I wanted out of life but still searched for those things I'd lost - such as my sister - I became resigned to not living that ideal life. I didn't seem fated to meet somebody, fall in love and make a future filled with babies and PTA. I had wanted that for so long; wanted to improve upon the legacy my parents had left in the world, under the name of Mulder. Maybe by finding my way in that idyllic world I could somehow atone for losing my sister - and the respect of my father. I would protect my family, and I would treat my son so wonderfully... In the meantime I had a job and a partner who was also my friend - who also seemed to have an abbreviated personal life - and in between cases and mutants and annoying Assistant Directors, I could sometimes convince myself that I was moderately not unhappy. I guess I just wanted the normal life that other men seemed to enjoy. I'd look around at some of the other agents, the ones who had wives and families. They went to work every day and fought the criminal demons just as Scully and I fought; the only difference I could see for us centered around the X-Files, and all they represented. And that was very daunting, to be sure. But still... why couldn't we be right up there with normalcy? Yes, we both had our share of excess baggage - certainly I had more than Scully. I had a lost sister and a murdered father and a shell-shocked mother. I had nightmares and insomnia and no outlet for my physical needs, save a few well-worn videos for which I was forever denying ownership. I had fish, instead of a dog. I had a Taurus and expensive suits instead of a dirt bike or a Jeep, and falling-off-the- legs-jeans and holey tee shirts. I had a smooth face instead of a beard. I frequently suffered from headaches instead of heartburn from too many hot dogs at the game... So when, during what appeared to be the busiest time in my Spooky little life, I met Lillian... I grabbed for that normal with both eager hands. I wanted to be Joe Average, taking his girl out to dinner and a movie. And I did just that, with Lillian. Movies and ball games, long dinners whenever I could swing it - weekends in the park. I did it - and I tried hard to remember that on my time I could be that regular guy. I never talked shop with her; she knew I had a partner named Dana Scully, and that was about it. I really tried... It took me two years to understand that as long as I worked the X- Files, I would never be Mr. Average. That as long as I had in my possession a Fed ID and a Taurus and a fucking Sig hanging out of my jacket - and knowledge of all things X... Joe was just a figment of my overzealous imagination. That as long as I had a partner whose back I watched and whose friendship meant so much to me - and whose demands on my time were legitimate and consuming and necessary, a relationship with any woman would have to be damned unique. But two years ago, I'd sure as hell tried. I met Lillian in a Starbuck's of all places. I rarely went there on the weekends, but one pre-winter Saturday I'd had a craving for a vanilla latte, and had found myself standing in a long line, patiently awaiting my turn. Next to the last in line, and I was very near the door; consequently when it suddenly flew open on a gust of winter wind and the woman who came in with the wind literally blew into my arms... I'd done the gentlemanly thing and had helped her to keep her feet while we both struggled to shut the door. Her smile flashed up at me and for that one second I'd felt warmer than I'd felt in a long time. She'd beamed at me; I had never seen anyone beam before - but that's just what she did. "Thank you very much! Nothing like a little brisk wind to knock you over!" She had a soft, high voice; not a little girl tone but she would never be able to sing "Old Man River", either. I found myself staring openly at her - very impolite, I realize. But it had been so long since a woman had just fallen into my arms, with the circumstances owing nothing to on-the-job hazard. I saw pale brown, shoulder-length hair, waterfall-straight and cut to frame her pretty face. Brown eyes, and a very sweet smile. Lillian wasn't too tall and wasn't too thin - nicely rounded, would be a good way to describe her. In a world of flashy, leggy flamingoes I guess you could call her a soft, cute little robin. And I'd seen enough leggy flamingoes to last me a while... Lillian was suddenly very attractive to me. I'd offered her my place in line and she thanked me; I stood behind her and inhaled her delicate perfume and tried not to stare at the back of her shiny hair. When she'd turned to face me and had started up a conversation I joined in, willingly. We'd talked about the early feel of winter and the puddle in front of Starbuck's that had drenched both our feet, and the way prices on gas had skyrocketed lately. She got her order first and found a table; by the time I'd paid for mine and turned around all the tables were taken and I just figured I'd drink and drive, when her soft voice spoke up from a side table overlooking the parking lot. "Would you care to join me?" She'd smiled up at me and I had smiled down at her and murmured a thanks, then sat down opposite her and sipped my latte very slowly, as she did with her brownie frapp. We'd exchanged names and occupations; Lillian's last name was Maxwell and she worked as an accountant at a law firm just a few miles from my office. She'd asked about my job and I'd told her as little as possible - and downplayed it, as well. "Oh... I work for the Federal government. Nothing big - I do profiling for the FBI." Well, that was a half-truth; I did profile and I did work for the FBI. Lillian was suitably impressed and said as much, while I shrugged and made it seem as though the work I did was boring and average. An hour had come and gone before I realized it. I knew I had to leave - and I also knew with sudden certainty that I wanted nothing more than to see her again. I stood and shook her hand and didn't let go of it right away, while I asked her out to dinner. I said words that I had not said in years to a woman... "Would you have dinner with me?" Simple words, the simplest in fact. Men used these words every day of their lives, all over the world. Most men. Fox Mulder usually took it for granted that when dinner came around he'd either be eating alone, or he'd be closeted in the office, or in a motel room somewhere, hunched over a laptop with his partner - eating cold pizza or bad Chinese takeout and courting indigestion. And I never had to ask Scully because it was always a given that if we were stuck working a case after hours there would be takeout of some sort and we would be sharing it. "I'd love to, Fox." She'd called me 'Fox'. How long had it been since a pretty woman accepted my formal dinner invitation, AND called me Fox? How long had it been since I had allowed another woman to even call me Fox? Maybe that was the real question. Obviously only one woman was allowed to call me Mulder... and suddenly I needed to differentiate between my best friend and a potential date-mate. I got her address and I went home to live out the rest of my day, until I could dress for dinner and pick Lillian up. That first dinner was wonderful and strange and I never wanted it to end. Lillian wore pale pink and looked soft and pretty and very touchable. We ate a leisurely dinner and talked about everything - well, I guess I listened more than talked, at first. She told me about the dry-as-dust law firm she worked for and the fact that she'd been orphaned as a toddler and raised by her grandmother. I told her about my apartment in Arlington. She told me about her hobbies and about her cat Mange and about her childhood wish to be a world-famous author. I told her about my fish. She told me, in one evening of much talking, about some of her deepest, fondest wishes. And after three hours of her revealing all to me and of me giving up squat in return... I finally told her a little about Scully. "Yes, I do have a partner. Many FBI agents are paired up when they do investigative fieldwork. Her name is Dana Scully. We've been partners for over two years." I'd sipped my coffee and waited for the curiosity, but Lillian's response was politely inquiring. "I'll bet it's nice to have a partner to share the workload." She'd smiled at me over her own coffee cup and her words made me feel relieved that I didn't have to say any more than that... Just a female partner named Dana Scully, who watched my back and kept me on track and in balance and reeled me in when I ran amok - and who shared cold pizza and bad Chinese in seedy motels during some of the worst cases in FBI history. A partner, and a friend. I wondered if she'd like Lillian. I wondered if Lillian would like her... and at that moment there was never any question that I would not ask this charming woman for another date - or that she would not become someone important to me. It was a given, I think - after that first date. I'd taken her home after a really enjoyable evening, and had kissed her cheek at her door; had turned to go - and then I'd turned back, to where she'd stood in the door watching me leave. I'd taken one step back to her and had leaned into her and had cupped a hand under her chin, holding her in place for the kiss I placed on her pink lips. I'd kissed Lillian very slowly and very softly and she'd kissed me back - and when I raised my head and looked into her face her eyes were glowing - for me. I liked it. I'd missed it; that look a woman gives when she's just been kissed, and her entire being is soft and open and everything is just... nice. Actually, maybe I'd never had it, not quite in that manner. I just knew I liked it - and I wanted it. I'd had a taste of normal, and if I had my way there would be more than just a taste in my future. ********************** I've had more than two years of normal. It's been great, it really has. Knowing Lillian has been one of the best things in my oftentimes-sorry life. She is incredibly sweet and kind and never has a bad word to say about anyone. We decided early on to maintain our own places, both of us independent enough to need our own space. Right from the beginning we spent so much time together it didn't really matter. Lillian has always been very tolerant of my sometimes-erratic work schedule, and the great hanks of time when I have to be away on a case. Over the past few years I have been able to explain to her some of what Scully and I have to face on the job - and while she doesn't pretend to understand, I think she has a healthy respect for the work we do. She and Scully have met frequently over the past two years and they get along. They aren't friends, but they get along. Honestly I'd expected less and hoped for more. Let's face it - my relationship with Dana Scully would be a difficult thing for a lot of women to accept. The first time it was brought home to me that I would have to sometimes put my partner before my girlfriend, came just a few months after we started dating. Another horrible case, worse than many but not as bad as I had a sinking feeling we would face in the sometime future; Satan in the form of a monstrous serial killer with a fetish for the hair and fingernails of his dead victims. He went after Scully and I barely made it to her in time; barely saved her. Donnie Pfaster was carted off and I took Scully back to the hotel; she'd fallen apart on the drive over and there wasn't a way in Hell I was leaving her alone in her room. Her shaky, repeated vow of, "I'm fine, Mulder," cut no ice whatsoever - not this time. I knew better. I'd held her, trembling violently in the wake of what had almost ended her life in the most brutal fashion, and had thought about how close I'd come to losing my partner and my best friend. I think I shook a bit that night, myself. She'd had two nightmares; after the first one I'd given up trying to sleep in the chair next to the bed and had climbed in beside her, propping myself up against a couple of pillows, and held her head cradled in my lap. Her tears had soaked through the leg of my jeans and she'd gripped my hand so hard it felt as if she'd broken my fingers - but Scully had finally fallen asleep. I'd winnowed my spare fingers through her hair and kept watch over her for the rest of the night. It was the right thing to do, I'd told myself. She'd done the same for me in the past; it was what good partners did for each other. And good friends. We'd get up the next morning and find a place to eat a quick breakfast, and we'd fly back to D.C. - and put all of this mess behind us. In the meantime I'd forgotten to call Lillian and let her know what had happened, why I'd had to leave town on almost no notice. It was really the first time it had happened, and of course I was angry with myself for not thinking. I'd resolved to call her first thing in the morning... *************** "Hi, Lilly - it's me." I'd smiled at the relieved tone in her soft voice, coming at me over the receiver. "Fox! I've been so worried - are you all right?" I cradled the phone against my shoulder and peeped in on Scully; she was still sleeping. I partially-closed the bathroom door and spoke low into the mouthpiece. "I'm fine, really. I feel terrible about not calling sooner - but this is the first chance I have had. I've been out of town on a case..." And as briefly as possible I'd told her some of what had happened, during the case. I told her a little about Pfaster and his attack on Scully. Lillian had been horrified; up until that point she'd really had no idea just how dangerous our jobs were. "My God, Fox! Is Dana all right? Did that animal hurt her?" Lillian was horrified, and rightly so. She was an accountant in an old, established law firm and events like this were as far-removed from her daily arena as they were commonplace in mine, and Scully's. My new girlfriend was a gentle soul and still fairly innocent of the more foul side of the human existence... I hastened to assure her of Scully's safety. "She's going to be fine, Lilly. She's scraped up and shaken up but he didn't have a chance to do any more than that. I got to her in time." I'd sighed under my breath and rubbed at my tired eyes, thinking suddenly about all the times I had 'gotten to her' in time - and the one time I had not. And as if Lillian could read my mind, her soft voice had resonated in my ear, sympathy in her tone. "There's a lot more to your job than I'd been led to believe, isn't there, Fox? I have a feeling, somehow - that you two are in a lot more danger, on a regular basis, than you have let on. I guess I assumed that FBI agents spent most of their time doing investigation, in a safe little office." There was resignation in her words and I'd sighed again, knowing that this was a critical place for us. I wanted this relationship to work, I really did. I sank down onto the rim of the bathtub and attempted to explain further. "We do push pencils, and investigate from our office, Lillian. We do a lot of that. But Scully and I are assigned to a special project that deals with the unexplained cases, the ones that no one can solve or understand. We deal with the kind of danger that a lot of other agents couldn't handle - and we sometimes get caught right in the middle of it, the way we did with this Pfaster asshole. Both of us get hurt, sometimes. It's part of the job. We're good at what we do and that's because we work together and trust each other and are loyal partners to each other." I'd stopped to take a deep breath, suddenly knowing that her acknowledgment and acceptance of my next words would dictate whether or not we had any sort of future together as a couple. "Look... there will be times when a case comes up and Scully and I have to take off and just go. We spend a lot of time together on the road more often than not. For some reason we'd had a lull in between cases, which does happen but it's rare - and that's why I've been more or less rooted in the office for the past couple of months. And the few stakeouts and cases we've been involved with didn't take us out of town and that's why we seemed like office-bound agents to you. I assure you it's not the norm for us." "Well, then... what IS the 'norm' for you?" I could tell Lillian was trying to be understanding. I reached out my free hand for the bathroom door and shut it completely, before answering. "Pfaster is normal for us, Lillian. Mutants like Pfaster are what we face, most of the time. Our division is called the X-Files, as in 'unexplained'. And unfortunately the dregs of society can sometimes be the cream of the crop in our line of work. I won't sugar-coat what we do, Lillian - and I won't deny that there will be times, like tonight... when Scully comes first. She is my partner and she watches my back just as I watch hers. She has saved my life several times already - actually, more than I can count - and when she needs me I go. She does the same for me." My voice had petered out as the silence on the line threatened to overwhelm me. Had I managed to make her understand, and accept? I'd really hoped so, for it was very important to me that Lillian and Scully understand their placement in my life - and just the fact that I was offering up to Lillian a piece of myself said reams about the way my romance with her was heading - and it had only been a few months. "Fox... it's okay. No, I don't understand it all but I think your loyalty to your partner is admirable and must be maintained. I'm not going anywhere... I promise..." Her words had made me smile in relief. She'd understood; it was going to work out. **************** As much as facing monsters like Pfaster had become almost commonplace for Scully and me, and did not frighten me... the day Scully collapsed in my apartment, right in front of me, and Lillian... I thought I'd lose my mind. On that frightening day I'd known it was bad when I'd seen the blood dripping from her nose, and I'd been in a panic. Holding her limp body in my arms; calling to her, then shouting to Lillian to call 911, I tasted the worst sort of fear, that day. Scully had been quiet lately; more tired than usual and less inclined to linger at the end of the day when our work was done and we usually sat in the office and shot the shit for a few before taking off for home. But we'd had a falling out, of sorts - and over a month later we were still tiptoeing around each other because of it. Maybe during that time she'd been brooding on her health, or worrying about any number of things that she refused to share with me. I honestly don't know. Sometimes Scully was harder to read than anyone I'd ever known. She would get touchy about things that I just did not understand. And she'd get cool to the point of almost frost. When that occurred she'd knock down my theories with barely-concealed contempt, which would result in pissing me off and making me even more determined to play the jerk, just to get her goat. Sometimes I'd figure out why, right away - and sometimes it would not hit me until months later. This was one of those times when I knew nothing until it was almost too late... But back to the falling-out. I guess I'd let it show in my demeanor and in my general outlook on life, that I was happy, for the first time in a damned long time. I had a girlfriend and life was very good. Lillian was wonderful to be with, affectionate and easygoing and so very sweet... we had been together two years and it was the longest romantic relationship I'd ever managed to maintain. I was proud of that, and although I didn't flaunt my relationship or rub it in, neither did I keep quiet around Scully. As I'd said, she and Lillian had met several times. I liked being happy - and I wanted nothing more than for Scully to be happy - to find someone - the way I had. But she hadn't, yet - and if her solitude made her terse or grouchy I tried to be empathetic, for I'd been there myself. On the morning I came into the office after a great night with Lillian and found that I was expected to use a week of vacation, or lose eight weeks' worth of vacation money... force of habit had made me try fighting it. I didn't want to be away right now; I had a case to work. I could sense things were not right between Scully and me but I didn't know why, and I didn't want to be away from our partnership either. It worried and bothered me though I did my best not to let on. I finally gave in when I realized I could use a week - away from it all, with Lillian if she could get the time off. Why the hell not? So I took Lillian with me on a pilgrimage to Graceland and I had a great time, but found myself thinking about Scully up in Philly by herself working my case; worrying about her and the case... well, mostly about her. The odd attitude she'd had just before I'd left, and the frigidly polite tone she'd used with Lillian when she'd come by to pick me up. It's true Scully had never gushed over Lillian, but up until that point she had at least been polite. I called Scully a couple of times while I was gone and I could hear it in her voice, that something was wrong. She tried to hide it but I could feel it, and I let those feelings get in the way of my enjoyment of sharing my special place with Lillian. I think Lillian could feel it as well - but she never asked... and when I heard about Ed Jerse I about flipped. I'd never felt so angry, at what I perceived to be Scully's carelessness for herself and for her own safety. At the time I never asked her why she'd been so on the edge that a walk on the wild side with a dangerously unbalanced stranger had seemed a good thing to do. I only knew I was hurt, deeply hurt - and the why of that confused the hell out of me. And of course in my inimitable, tactful way I was 'kind' enough to let her know. "All this because I didn't get you a desk...?" Yes, I was stupid enough to ask Scully that question, upon my return from vacation and her return from the hospital - and the hurt my careless remark caused her was plain to see on her face. And she was absolutely right; at that moment it was all about her and nothing about me. But I wasn't to know that, yet - and I think Scully was only beginning to know it. When she finally knew for certain; as certain as she could be... her revelation shook me to my very core and for the first time in my life I was very, very afraid. "Scully! Jesus! SCULLY!" I held her, pale and lifeless in my hands; her fingers were like ice. Lillian rushed to call 911 and I held my partner in my arms and tried to rouse her; tried to stem the steady stream of blood coming from her nose. I was in a wild panic, trying to imagine what was wrong with her. She'd been waxy-pale and on the shaky side all day long; I'd finally convinced her to go home early, thinking maybe she'd been coming down with a cold. And I'd just let Lillian in and had kissed her hello when Scully knocked on my door and I opened it to find her pale face looking up at me, almost swaying on her feet. She'd had a thick sheaf of files in her hands that she'd held out to me, standing in the open doorway. "Mulder, you left these on the desk..." That was all she'd gotten out before her eyes had rolled up in her head and she'd pitched forward. ********************* end of chapter one ~ Chapter Two ~ Skinner had called Mulder up to his office to go over a few questionable items on our latest expense report and I was taking advantage of the respite from pretending that I was feeling fine. Mulder would be leaving shortly to spend the weekend with Lillian in Virginia to attend her cousin's wedding. I knew that Mulder was worried about leaving me behind... It was at times such as this one that I regret having come to lean on him so heavily. But the truth is that throughout these last few months when I have been so ill, Mulder is the only one I can bear to have around. My mother worries and her fear is a palpable thing. She overcompensates by cooking enormous meals for me and by wrapping me in sweaters and blankets, clucking at me to stay warm. Mulder worries and is afraid too, but he works hard at maintaining a calm exterior. He tempts me with takeout, but never pushes me to eat when I can't and he wraps me in the warmth of his presence, which is more comforting to me than any blanket or pain pill the doctors can prescribe. Over these last months our partnership and our friendship has sustained me through the darkest of hours. When the pain and the fear threaten to overwhelm me, he is there to soothe and support me. His deep voice rumbling in my ear assures me that I am not going through all of this alone. And when my resolve is not enough to hold me upright, when the pain drives me to my knees to vomit in wretched misery... when the headache pounding behind my eyes becomes intolerable, it is Mulder who makes it bearable. I have had good days and bad since I was diagnosed with this inoperable tumor. This past week had been a good one and Mulder and I took advantage of my spurt of energy by getting out of the office and following up on some leads for a case that had come across our desks. Today, however, I could not claim to be in good health although I put on the performance of a lifetime to convince Mulder otherwise. He deserves a weekend away from worry and sickness. He deserves to spend some time wrapping his arms around his girlfriend instead of around a dying woman. And so I spent the day surreptitiously sneaking my pain meds and ruthlessly pushing down the bile that burned at the back of my throat. With Mulder temporarily gone, I indulged my weakness by hiding my face in the curve of my arm where it lay atop my desk. I peered at my watch and rubbed my fingertips against my aching forehead and was tiredly contemplating the thirty remaining minutes of my performance before Mulder would leave for the weekend when I heard the door slide open and Lillian stepped into the office. "Oh, Dana," she said in a softly apologetic voice. "I decided to leave the office early to pick up Fox so that he wouldn't have to drive all the way across town to get me," she explained. "Your office is so much closer to the interstate than mine." I raised my head and tried to focus on her nervous chatter. She leaned against Mulder's desk and her hands fidgeted with some of the pencils propped up in the cup on the top of the desk as her uneasy gaze finally settled on my face. I knew the very second when Lillian had catalogued all of the changes the cancer had wrought in my appearance as I saw pity darken her warm, brown eyes and I was taken back to the first time I had met her... About a month after the Pfaster case, she had popped into the office, surprising Mulder and me. I had known that Mulder had begun seeing someone - he had told me about the pretty, young woman he had met in Starbucks a few months earlier. I had risen from my chair when Mulder guided her to where I was sitting to make the introductions. "I'm so pleased to meet you, Dana," Lillian had said in her soft, high voice. "Fox has told me so much about you." I murmured my pleasure at meeting her and threw an arched brow Mulder's way. My mind flashed back to the early days of our partnership when he had uncomfortably stopped me from calling him by his first name by telling me that he even made his parents call him by his surname. After my abduction, I had spent fruitless weeks trying to convince my mother to abide by his wishes and to stop calling him Fox, but deep down, I knew that he had not been truthful with me. And as Lillian stood in his office, gazing at him with soft eyes and using his given name in an even softer voice, it dawned on me that Mulder had expertly established the groundwork for our relationship in the first weeks and months of our association. I had been firmly slotted into the role of partner and buddy. In those early days I played the part of 'one of the boys' and as our relationship deepened and grew it never occurred to me to call him by any other name. Mulder was my partner. Mulder was my best friend. I didn't know Fox. I had never met him and until the moment I laid eyes on Lillian, I didn't realize that he even existed... For Dana had died at the hands of the faceless men of my tormentors in the harsh lights of that boxcar and I had been reborn as Scully. Little remained of the young woman I had been when I was assigned to the X-Files. Dana had died so that Scully might live to work with Mulder; to fight with Mulder to uncover the truth; to protect and defend him against those who would seek to harm him, as Mulder sought to protect and defend me. Our friendship was my reward for the sacrifice of family and friends; of peace and innocence. I was drawn back to the present by the soft lilting of Lillian's voice as she gently inquired about my health. I was spared from making another bald-faced lie that day by the sound of Mulder's feet beating a familiar tattoo down the hallway from the elevator. A moment later he stepped into the office and a smile lit up his face, smoothing out the tired lines that I had become so familiar with over the last few weeks as his eyes landed on Lillian's bright and happy face. Mulder smoothed a hand over her shining hair and dropped a quick kiss on her upturned lips and openly admired the pretty, floral dress that swirled around her ankles. I plopped back into my chair, suddenly conscious of the clothes hanging from my spare frame as I fingered the brittle, dry ends of my own hair. I had been so pleased that the cancer treatments had not resulted in the loss of my hair, but faced with Lillian's fresh, wholesome, healthy appeal, I was reminded that the cancer was not only growing inside of me but was evident in the ravages to my appearance. I watched the sparkle dim in Mulder's eyes as they slid from Lillian's face to mine and the lines reappear around his eyes and above his nose. Licking my dry lips, I stood and began to stuff papers into my briefcase, deliberately looking at my watch. "If you two want to beat the weekend traffic, you'd better leave now," I advised briskly, an expectant look plastered on my face. Lillian smiled and began to draw Mulder across the room. "Have a good weekend, Dana," she said gently. I smiled in reply and lifted my brows as Mulder stopped in front of me. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" he asked, worriedly studying my face. I sighed in mock exasperation and threw a rueful glance toward Lillian who was waiting serenely for Mulder to make his goodbyes. "I'll be fine, Mulder," I assured him. "Go on," I urged. "You'll be late." I nodded toward the door. I knew he was torn between wanting to spend some time alone with Lillian and the fierce need he had to take care of me and I summoned a bright, reassuring smile for his benefit. "Do you need a ride home?" he asked. I shook my head. "I have my car," I told him. "You promise to take it easy this weekend?" he pleaded. "Rest. Eat..." I nodded patiently as he ran through a laundry list of do's and don'ts for me. "I'll leave my phone on. Call me if you need me," he urged. I poked two fingers into his chest. "Turn the cell off during the ceremony, Mulder," I told him crisply. "It's rude to have a ringing phone in the middle of a wedding." Lillian and I shared a look of feminine frustration but Mulder continued to glare at me stubbornly. I blew out a long-suffering sigh and ran the tip of my index finger over my heart in a tiny cross. "I'll be good," I vowed. "Cross my heart." Mulder smiled at the childish gesture and leaned down to brush his lips over my cheek. "Call me, if you need me," he stressed and this time I nodded, silently promising to call upon him if the need arose. Mollified, Mulder straightened and reached out for Lillian's hand, leading her from the room. Straining to hear the sound of the elevator doors opening and closing, I slumped back into my chair and stared at the empty doorway and contemplated the long, lonely weekend that stretched out before me. ***************** I stifled a sigh when I saw Fox pull his cell phone from his pocket and peer at the illuminated screen for what was easily the twentieth time tonight. The moment the wedding ceremony was over and we had cleared the receiving line, he had stepped out of the church and quickly thumbed the phone's power button back on. I smoothed my fingers over my upswept hair, and took a sip of wine as I tried to focus my attention on my cousin, Marian, who was animatedly bringing me up to date on the antics of her three-year-old twin boys while I ruthlessly buried the twinge of anxiety caused by the man standing next to me who was obviously a million miles away - or to be more precise - whose mind was one hundred and twelve miles north in D.C. Fox had been distracted throughout the ceremony and had barely touched the delicious meal during the reception. The band had been playing for almost forty minutes and he had yet to ask me to dance. I had hoped that this weekend away would be a chance for us to spend some time alone together. Ever since Dana had been diagnosed with cancer, Fox had been preoccupied and moody. I understood his concern and I tried not to begrudge Dana the time that Fox spent with her. At night, if he was not at her apartment, I offered him the comfort of my embrace. I used soft words and gentle hands to soothe the tension and fear from his body. His best friend was dying and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Marian indicated that she was going to the ladies room. Picking up my purse from the table, I leaned toward Fox. "I'll be right back," I whispered into his ear. His head jerked toward me and his eyes were clouded and troubled and I knew at that moment that he wasn't seeing me. He shook his head slightly and his eyes cleared and crinkled at the corners when he smiled. He stood politely as Marian and I rose from our seats and brushed his lips across my cheek. "Hurry back," he murmured softly as he sank back into his chair. I nodded and followed Marian across the room. As we skirted the dance floor, I glanced toward our table and found Fox's chair empty. My eyes swept across the room and I saw him striding toward the door, cell phone in hand. He was already speaking into the phone as he pushed open the door and stepped out onto the patio. "Is Fox expecting an important call?" Marian asked as we settled onto the plush stools in front of the lit vanity. She drew a small comb from her purse and was looking at me curiously in the mirror as she lightly rearranged a few mussed tendrils of hair. "His partner - his best friend is very sick," I explained, pulling a compact from my purse and dusting powder over my nose and forehead. "Cancer," I said by way of further explanation. Marian made a sympathetic face. "Poor Fox," she commiserated. "Have they been partners a very long time?" she asked. I nodded and carefully outlined my lips with lip liner. "Over four years," I told her as I put down the liner and lifted a tube of lipstick. Marian shook her head and dug through her bag for a small bottle of perfume. "I guess they're almost like brothers," she said guilelessly as she dabbed her wrists with the delicate fragrance. She looked up and flashed a quick grin into the mirror. "At least that's the way they make it seem in the movies and on television." I frowned and stroked the berry-colored lipstick over my lips. "His partner is a woman," I said, reaching for a tissue and blotting my lips. My frown deepened and I shook my head as Marian now directed a pitying look at me and what I could only imagine she thought was my silly naivete. I snapped my purse closed and stood. "You're wrong," I told her as I slipped the delicate gold chain of my purse strap over my shoulder. "It's not like that." I pushed the door open and stepped out of the room. It's not like that, I repeated to myself as I made my way past the dance floor and through the tables of the hotel's ballroom. Fox's seat was still empty and my eyes darted toward the doors leading out to the patio. I had watched Fox and Dana together for more than two years now and I had never, not even in the earliest days, suspected that there was anything more between them than a deep and loving friendship. Over the years, I had found Dana to be an intensely private person and I had accepted the fact that we would never be great friends. But I also accepted that she was a vital part of Fox's life and always would be. Marian had no idea what she was talking about... I shook my head slightly and chided myself for allowing her to raise suspicions that I knew had no foundation. I resolutely put her pitying look out of my mind and stepped into the cool night air. Fox had his back to me and was leaning against the wrought iron railing, staring sightlessly into the darkness. "How is she?" I asked, laying a gentle hand on his arm. Startled, Fox lifted his head to look at me. "Dana," I said quietly, glancing toward the cell phone still clutched in his hand. "How is she feeling?" Fox smiled softly and I knew that my concern for Dana's well-being pleased him. His smile quickly faded and he turned to lean his hips against the railing. "She says she's fine..." he began; I heard an underlying note of disgust in his voice. I tilted my head to one side and folded my arms across my chest. "But you don't believe her?" I asked cautiously, rubbing my hands over the chilled skin of my bare arms. Fox blew out an exasperated breath and shook his head. "No, she always says she's fine," he told me. He wore a look of agitation and I cast about desperately for some way to comfort him. "That's not true," I told him slowly. He looked at me quizzically and for a moment I thought he was going to tell me that I had no idea what I was talking about. Instead he held out one hand, indicating that I should continue. "It seems to me that Dana has been very honest about her health." I carefully choose the right words. I took a step closer and laid my hand on his chest, my fingers rubbing against the expensive silk of his tie. "She calls you when she needs your help," I added. Fox closed his eyes and nodded slowly and I knew that he was remembering the phone calls and the doctor's visits that he had accompanied her to. I tugged on his tie and his head jerked up - he looked at me for what seemed like the first time since we left his office yesterday. "It's chilly out here," I complained softly. "Let's go inside," I suggested. Fox nodded and absently chafed his hands over my bare arms. "You haven't danced with me all night," I reminded him. He raised his eyes and looked over my head at the couples swaying on the dance floor. "Lilly," he said in a funny, formal tone. "May I have the pleasure of this dance?" I smiled happily and linked my arm through his and allowed him to lead me inside. *************** Later that night, I stroked my hands over his back. The sweat was still drying on his skin and he shivered in his sleep as a cool breeze wafted through the open window. I could feel the warmth of his breath puffing rhythmically against the bare skin of my breast and although I was tired, my mind refused to shut down. Fox had thrown himself into being an attentive escort for the remainder of the evening. We danced several times and spent long minutes in a quiet corner of the room talking. For the first time in weeks, I truly felt that I was the center of his world and I basked in the familiar warmth of his attention. When the reception was over we joined the rest of my family in bidding a fond farewell to the happy couple before making our way up to our suite. Fox stole a couple of kisses from me in the elevator and I floated blissfully into the bathroom after snatching from my suitcase the pretty new nightgown I had recently purchased. I quickly washed up and slid the satin oyster-colored gown over my head and took a few minutes to fuss with my hair. Snapping off the bathroom light, I laid a hand over my fluttering belly. Fox and I had not made love in almost two weeks and I was strangely nervous. A shaft of moonlight spilled over our bed and I was surprised and disappointed to find it empty. My eyes darted around the room and I heard the quiet murmur of his voice coming from the small living room of our hotel suite. Padding silently over the thick carpeting, I eased the door open and found him speaking softly into the phone. And I knew he was checking up on Dana again. He had ended the call a few moments later and his eyes had swept over me and my new nightgown with seeming interest... I held out my hand and led him to our bed. Later, lying awake and alone with my thoughts, I was plagued by the memory of Marian's sympathetic face. I mentally chastised myself for allowing her to stir up worries and fears that I knew were groundless. And yet a nagging voice in the back of my head was reminding me that the seeds of doubt had been planted more than six months ago. Fox and I had gone away for our first real vacation together. He was a workaholic and when the Bureau had forced him to take a week off, I had eagerly latched onto his invitation to join him at Graceland. But instead of the carefree week of fun and solitude I had envisioned, Fox had spent an extraordinary amount of time calling Dana. "We're supposed to be on vacation," I pouted at one point. He looked at me ruefully and made a production of stuffing his cell phone into his back pocket. He had held his hands up in surrender. "I know," he began apologetically. "I just wanted to check on Scully - she didn't seem very happy when I asked her to go to Philadelphia and follow up on a lead I had on a case," he explained. I planted my hands on my hips and huffed out a frustrated breath. "You're always telling me what a fantastic agent Dana is," I said, pressing my lips together and staring at him hard. He nodded under my fierce gaze and we spent the rest of the day exploring Memphis. We returned to our hotel room hours later and I went downstairs to the spa for a massage when Fox announced his intentions of taking a nap before dinner. Relaxed and limber after my massage, I returned to our room to find Fox trying to reach Dana on the phone. He hadn't seen me enter the room and he threw the phone down onto the bed in a fit of anger when Dana apparently failed to answer the phone. "Is everything all right?" I asked quietly as I eased the door closed behind me and tossed the key card down onto the small table near the door. Fox had thrown his hands up into the air. "Scully isn't answering her phone," he said in an annoyed tone. I looked at him in confusion and then glanced down at my watch. "Didn't I hear you say when you spoke with her earlier today that she had a date with someone she met in Philadelphia?" I asked softly. "She probably turned the phone off," I said. "I'm sure she's fine." I was beginning to become annoyed with his preoccupation with the case she was investigating. I was shocked to see his cheeks flush and his eyes darken when I mentioned Dana's date, but I shook it off when his eyes cleared and he apologized. "Why don't we get dressed for dinner?" he suggested softly. I nodded, relieved at the change in subject - and I forgot my fears as we ate dinner and lingered over dessert and coffee. Two days later I huddled in the corner of the sofa in Fox's apartment as he stalked around the living room. "What the fuck was she thinking?" he had raged. "Going back to some creep's apartment - some guy she just met?" His voice had been shaking with barely suppressed anger. "She's a cop for chrissake!" he thundered. "She should know better!" When he had fallen into an exhausted slumber after spending hours pacing and raging about the apartment, I had lain awake convincing myself that his seemingly frenzied anger was due to the scare he had received when he had learned of Dana's injuries and brush with death - not due to her choice of bedmates. All these months later, lying in a hotel bed, with Fox's dark head pressed to my breast, I was finding it increasingly difficult to keep my fears at bay. He had been passionate and tender in his lovemaking and just the tiniest bit... preoccupied. In the darkened room, I fought against my worries and insecurities. He was sleeping in my arms - had emptied himself into my body - I reminded myself. And clinging to these thoughts, I had fallen into a troubled sleep. ******************* I set the phone back into the cradle and stared at it for a long moment. I spent the last twenty minutes reassuring Mulder that I would be okay until he returned. He had called me at least five times since he and Lillian left yesterday afternoon. He called once from the road and then again under the pretext of wishing me a good night. He called early today to say good morning, although the relief evident in his voice when I answered the phone told me that he was afraid that I might have slipped away during the night. Two more phone calls rounded out the day and his husky 'sweet dreams' lingered in my ears. I couldn't imagine what Lillian was thinking... I was sure she was looking forward to getting away and spending some time alone with Mulder. I was also sure that she had become tired of sharing him with a sick woman. I looked at the clock. It was late and I should have been sleeping. There were days when it was all I could do to keep my head up and I was more than happy to sleep the day away. Then there were the other days - like today - where I was acutely conscious of the fragility of life and the passage of time. Days where I fought to stay awake and savor every precious minute. Tonight, my mind didn't want to shut down; I pushed myself from the sofa and made my way toward the bathroom, hoping that a hot bath would relax me. Twisting the taps, I tested the water temperature with my fingertips, forgoing bubbles in favor of the purity of clean, clear, hot water. I stepped out of the pajamas that I had been wearing all day and pinned my hair up. I did all of this without once looking into a mirror. Lately I'd found myself avoiding my reflection whenever possible. As my disease progressed it was harder to hide its effects on my appearance. In the beginning I tried using a heavier hand when applying my makeup, but a couple of months ago I realized that I was highlighting rather than hiding the ravaging effects of the cancer. Now I would stand before a mirror only long enough to apply minimal makeup and bring some order to my hair. I braced my hands on the safety bars that Mulder had insisted on installing two months ago when the dizzy spells began, and gingerly lowered myself into the hot bath. Dipping a washcloth into the water, I squeezed it out and draped the hot, steamy cloth over my face. I realized that I'd left the cordless phone in the living room and I briefly considered climbing out of the tub to retrieve it. Chances were slim that Mulder would call again at this late hour, but I didn't want him to panic if he should call. A familiar lethargy spread through my limbs as the hot water began to work; I decided against fetching the phone. Surely he won't call again, I reasoned. It was late and although Lillian had been exceedingly understanding about the amount of time that Mulder was spending with me over these many months there was little doubt that she had other plans for him this weekend. Lillian. I couldn't understand the visceral reaction I'd sometimes have toward her. It was true that we'd never been close, but in the more than two years since she became a part of Mulder's life, we have been friendly - if not exactly friends. She'd always been very gracious and accepting of my relationship with Mulder. I was intensely aware of the fact that this seemed a strange line of thought. I was Mulder's partner and if I were a man, I would not have been contemplating Lillian's gracious understanding of our relationship. People would have accepted our friendship without question; they would expect me to be a welcomed presence in Mulder and Lillian's social life. But the truth was that after Mulder met Lillian things did change. Mulder slotted us into our appropriate positions in his life - girlfriend and best friend - and he made a few tentative approaches at melding the two. The three of us met several times for drinks after work or for the occasional dinner. But sitting across a booth from Lillian and Mulder and watching the happy, adoring look on her face or seeing the indulgent, affectionate way he played with her fingers made me intensely aware of my third- wheel status. The next time Mulder suggested that I join them for drinks I found that I had to finish up a report that I was working on. And when he invited me to his apartment for pizza and a ball game on a chilly autumn Sunday, I had plans with my mother. The invitations dwindled and stopped shortly after that. From that point on Mulder stopped trying to blend the two different aspects of his life and we settled into a comfortable rhythm. Mulder's late night telephone calls to discuss a case or shoot the breeze didn't stop, although at times his voice was hushed and I knew that Lillian was asleep nearby. And when we were on the road investigating a case, I would watch with sleep-heavy eyes as he would drag himself out of the other bed in my motel room and away from whatever late night horror movie or sports wrap-up show that had caught his interest for a few moments before he would toss the empty takeout cartons into the trash can on the way to his room. Through the thin walls of the various nameless motel rooms, I could hear the low murmur of his voice as he called Lillian to wish her a good night or tell her that he missed her. So I was caught off-guard by the suddenly negative feelings that had assaulted me when Lillian had walked into our office last February to pick Mulder up for their trip to Graceland. I had already been angry with Mulder for the heavy-handed way he had tossed the assignment at me. A little something to keep me busy while the boss was gone... that was how it had seemed. I had taken a look around the office and felt an intense wave of dissatisfaction with my life. To my way of thinking, I had given up everything else in my life for the job. I had drifted away from friends and family. The few attempts I had made at establishing a relationship with a man never lasted. Most men were not as accepting of Mulder's presence in my life as Lillian was about my presence in his. They didn't understand our friendship, the sudden trips out of town or the random phone calls... and they were threatened by it. The few vacations I took - I took alone. I had put my career and my life on the line time and again for our partnership - for our work - for our friendship. And in the back of my mind, I knew, even though I wouldn't admit it at the time, that I had sacrificed my health on the altar of Mulder's quest. I had taken a look around the office toward the dark corner that Mulder had indicated was mine and I saw the rickety chair and the long low table crammed with books and files and newspaper articles - all Mulder's. The poster on the wall, the trophies on the shelves, the basketball, the framed picture of a lost sister - all Mulder's. There was nothing in that room that I could claim as my own - nothing that said Dana Scully worked there, toiled there. His, not mine. Then Lillian pushed open the door and the dim light from hallway glinted weakly against the nameplate on the door and the quiet rage that had been simmering for days exploded quietly inside of me. Mulder's look of pained confusion at my attitude disappeared into a happy grin as Lillian brushed her lips across his. She was chattering excitedly about the thrills of an unexpected vacation and I forced myself to remain coolly polite. The teasing curve of Mulder's lips disappeared when he turned to me and dropped a piece of paper on top of the file that he had set down on his desk. "That's the name and number of the hotel we'll be staying at," he told me. "You know my cell phone number," he said. Slinging his arm around Lillian's waist, he steered her toward the door. "Call me if you need my help," he flung over his shoulder and then they were gone. I bit back an oath and fumed that I had better things - more important things - to do with my time than to chase down one of his stupid leads. Twenty minutes later I was on my way to Philadelphia. I leaned forward and spun the taps, sending a fresh wave of hot water into the tub; then I lathered up the washcloth and began to furiously scrub my skin - trying to wash away the shame and sickness that crawled over my body when I remembered that time. To this day, I was mortified by my behavior in Philadelphia and my attitude toward Mulder and Lillian. At the time I didn't understand what was driving my anger and my dissatisfaction with the course of my life. Everything I had said that weekend had been a lie. I wasn't acting out against the authority figures in my life. I wasn't angry with Mulder for giving me an assignment and expecting me to do it. I was angry because he had a life - a good life with Lillian - and I was afraid. I was afraid that I would never be happy. I was afraid of the truth that whispered to me in the darkness of my dreams - 'You have something I need' - it said. I had drinks with Ed Jerse because he was handsome and interested in me. I allowed my body to be marked by the needles of the tattoo artist because I wanted to do something wild and naughty - something that Agent Scully would never do. And I went with Ed to his apartment because it had been so long since someone had looked at me with desire in his eyes. So long since someone had touched me with trembling fingers. So long since the passion I heard in a man's voice had been directed at me instead of a case. So long since anyone had taken the time to look past Scully to the woman inside. I went with him because I wanted... I wanted... I went with him because I was so tired of being lonely and because I wanted to know the warmth and the passion of another's hand. In the end it all went horribly wrong and two weeks later I knew... Never again would the hands of a lover touch me; never again would I know the whisper of a kiss being trailed across my skin. I learned then, and I acknowledged now, that it would be the gentle familiarity of my mother's hands and the comforting strength of my friend's arms that would be the last touches I'd be destined to enjoy as they eased me from this world and into what I could only hope and desperately pray would be the welcoming embrace of a sister lost and a father gone before. ******************* end of chapter two ~ Chapter Three ~ When I overslept for the third time in a week, I knew two certainties: that Skinner was going to call me out for missing the first twenty minutes or so of an important meeting - and the very real possibility of having to make a choice between the women I cared so much about. I stood in the shower with as hot a stream of water as I could stand, waiting for the steam and the pounding spray to ease the tension away. Never a sound sleeper, I'd found myself with too busy a mind to sleep at night and too much to have to think about during the day. I was not eating properly, walking through my hours at work without that clear head in which I'd always taken such pride. It was only a matter of time before Skinner reamed me about that, as well. And I would not blame him a bit. I was not performing the way a good agent should perform. My only saving grace was the knowledge that at least I was office-bound for the rest of the month and not out in the field. Bumbling around the basement was marginally better than out on a case with your peers snickering behind their badges. Drying off, I peered into the fogged up mirror over the sink; even through the mist I could see how tired and red my eyes looked. I was accustomed to functioning with just a few hours' sleep per night but in the past month those nightly hours had not been restful. And it didn't seem to matter where I slept - my apartment or with Lilly - or on Scully's sofa... I couldn't shut down my brain. In just a little over a month I'd watched Scully's health take a plunge that frightened me and violently tilted my world. The cancer had its grip firmly locked upon her and each day I'd see its ravages on her face and hear it in her voice. I knew she wouldn't give up - Dana Scully is so much stronger than that - but her body could only take so much abuse. And her courageous heart might not be enough to combat the invading enemy within. As I dressed for work, thanking my lucky stars I'd miss nothing more than the first ten minutes of yet another importantly dull meeting... I pondered the way my need to be with Scully was affecting my still- evolving life with Lilly. We'd been together two years and I knew Lilly wanted that total, final commitment. What marriage-minded woman wouldn't? And I knew she was marriage, as well as children-minded. Women like her - nurturing and caring - always were. I'd seen her with her nephews; she was crazy about them. She'd stop in the middle of a street to coo at a baby. I knew she loved me, was in love with me - she'd told me. Oh, I don't believe she'd meant to; it just slipped out one night. We were lying in bed at my place and I was almost asleep. Lilly had made such sweet, generous love to me, and in need of some strong comfort I'd taken all she'd had to give me and had managed (I'd hoped) to return in some measure her generosity. Maybe she'd thought I'd fallen asleep; I might have dozed a little - but I was fully awake when those whispered, tremulous words were pressed into my neck, her head against my shoulder. "Fox... I love you so..." And I pretended to sleep because I could not face those words of hers - not yet. On the way to work, still running late, I contemplated my feelings for Lilly. I care for her, so much. She's easygoing and loving, intelligent and humorous. She's lovely and soft and her eyes sparkle at me. I care for Lilly. But it's not the kind of love I'd thought would develop - it's just not there yet. After two years I'd expect it to be there. I've told myself it's the nature of my job; enough of a hazard to give me serious pause and hesitancy when considering a long-term relationship. The woman I marry could easily become a widow three days after the ceremony; children I father could become fatherless in the blink of an eye. I'd seen it happen to other agents - I wouldn't be able to imagine it happening to a family I'd helped create. I found myself stumbling over the words I know Lilly waits to hear. Now I was suddenly not so sure. Now I wondered if something - someone - else was holding me back. I spent what was left of my morning attending a meeting that bored me and that couldn't even begin to capture my attention. Luckily for me, Skinner seemed equally preoccupied and aside from one sharp glance in my direction when I first slipped in, he'd mostly ignored me. I sat and twiddled a pencil between my fingers and worried about Scully. She'd been released from the hospital a few days ago and was at home, supposedly resting. Somehow I doubted she was resting as much as her doctors had prescribed. I had a lunch date with Lilly but had impulsively canceled it - I'd called on my cell phone and had left a message for her explaining that I needed to visit Scully. I'd been strangely relieved to be able to give that message to her phone, and not to her. As soon as the meeting broke I was out of my chair and headed to the door. I didn't want to answer the now-standard question, "How's Agent Scully doing?" Almost out the door... a few more steps... "Agent Mulder, wait." Shit - Skinner. I turned to him, fighting to hide my impatience. He walked up to me, staring hard, no doubt ready to comment on my half-assed shave job or my red eyes. His own shrewd orbs raked me up and down, then he spoke in a row rumble. "You look like shit, Agent. When was the last time you got a decent night's sleep? No, don't answer that. I already know. How's she holding up?" I let out the breath I'd been holding and rubbed at my eyes, suddenly gratified that I could at least speak my thoughts in front of someone. "She has her fair days and her poor days, Sir. I fight with her on a daily basis to tell me when she's in pain, when she needs comfort - someone to talk to. Sometimes she does and other days she isolates herself. It's frustrating." Skinner nodded and we fell into step together as we headed for the parking garage, and our respective vehicles. I walked him to his car and we stood outside a few minutes longer, talking about Scully. "I've called her several times, in between visits when she was in the hospital. I get a lot of 'I'm fine, Sir.' I don't believe it for a minute, of course - but I'm sure you know the feeling." I nodded at Skinner, resignedly. "Oh yeah - I know the feeling. But sometimes she'll call me, and she'll talk to me. About her fears - her worries for the future. I'll hold the phone close to my ear and she'll tell me what's on her mind. Sometimes I'll go over to her place in the middle of the night and I'll sit with her. When she's awake and in pain I'll hold her hand and we may not talk at all - just sit together. When she's asleep I sit there next to her bed and watch her sleep." I didn't add the feelings of anguish and despair I'd have, seeing what this horrible disease had done to Scully; how it had changed her. I didn't say that - I didn't need to. My boss nodded in understanding, and regarded me with curiosity. "How's your lady friend handling this, Agent? Lillian, isn't it?" My head jerked around at the mention of Lilly. Skinner had only met her once in two years. 'Lady friend' - yes, that would be a good way to describe her... I smiled. Well, more of a grimace, I suppose - and as Skinner climbed into his car and rolled down his window, I chose my answer carefully. "Well, she's been very understanding, Sir - but it's not easy for her either. I cancel a lot of dates." My voice trailed off; I was remembering how many dates I'd either cut short or canceled, since Scully's diagnosis. And I knew Lilly was trying to hold her impatience with me. I couldn't be everywhere at once and the strain of dividing myself between Lilly and Scully was beginning to make itself felt. "Well, Agent - I suppose the logical question would be - how badly do you want your relationship with Lillian to succeed?" Skinner's eyes were as enigmatic as always as I raised mine to stare at him. Skinner nodded at me and with a short wave backed out of his parking spot. As I walked to my car I couldn't help but wonder... How badly, indeed? Scully was asleep when I let myself into her apartment. I walked into her room and perched on the edge of her bed; I reached out a hand and gently stroked her hair. With her face relaxed in sleep Scully looked as young as she'd looked years ago when we'd first started working together, the shadows underneath her eyes eased out and the strain of her illness smoothed away. As I slipped my hand down and linked fingers with her, she came awake slowly and the sleepy smile she gave me was easy to return. "Hi... what're you doing here in the middle of the day, Mulder?" Her voice was thick and she yawned as she spoke. I shrugged and squeezed her hand. "I just wanted to see you, that's all." I gazed at her, noticing that awake, all the strain of the cancer became more apparent on her face. The ravages of her treatments showed, in her eyes and around her mouth. A sudden squeeze back of my hand brought me to the awareness that I had been staring hard at her, wordlessly. I met her inquiring glance, and took a deep breath. "Truth, Scully - how are you?" She opened her mouth, probably to utter the usual retort - then she huffed out a little breath of impatience, and her eyes met mine. "Awful, Mulder... I feel awful. The treatments still leave me nauseous; it's getting worse instead of better. This morning I raked a hand through my hair and for the first time came away with a lot in my hand. I find myself forgetting things, Mulder - Charlie's birthday. I can't even remember my little brother's birthday!" Scully's voice broke and so did my heart; I groaned in despair and gathered her close, feeling her ball her fists into my shirt as her tears soaked my neck. I held her tightly and rocked her as she cried it all out. I could feel myself fighting to hold my own tears at bay, swallowing the lump in my throat, enough to speak the words of encouragement that she so urgently needed. I parted my lips to speak - but nothing came out; the trite phrases I'd said to her on other occasions stuck in my vocal chords and refused to be set free. Instead I saw my hands slip from her frail body and cup her face; brushing unsteady thumbs across her wet cheeks... leaning in to press her trembling lips with mine. And the tiny hiccup of surprise she uttered against my mouth was accepted gratefully as it registered within my head, that Dana Scully was alive and vital despite the cancer slowly killing her. Alive... in my arms. For now. It was our first kiss on the mouth and I told myself I was kissing a friend, or perhaps a beloved sister. While her lips clung to mine and her hands gripped my hair; while my fingers stroked her cheeks and my mouth moved on hers, I told myself some lies and I'm sure Scully told herself a few as well. Oddly neither of us thought to bring our tongues into play. And equally oddly, the lack thereof only made the kiss more intense - as if the denial of intimacy caused a rush that neither of us could ignore. Long seconds later I released her mouth; kissing Scully had been so sweet. Sweeter than any kiss I'd ever experienced... and all the more precious to me because our time was running out. I could feel it slipping through my fingers, the sand of her trickling down, grain by grain - within an hourglass of her life. I looked into her face, noting the tinge of pink and so damn proud to have been the one to put it there. For one wild moment I wanted to chuck it all; fuck the job and to hell with the relationship. I wanted to spend my every waking hour just finding ways to make Scully's days happy - I would devote it all to her, gladly - if it meant her remaining time could be free of tears and loneliness. I could do this... but Scully would refuse me that sort of decision - would see it as a sacrifice, and would not let me. For endless moments after the kiss, we stared at each other, I think neither of us knowing quite what to say. Finally, I cupped the back of her head and pressed her into my shoulder, cradling her gently. Under my hand her hair was dry and brittle, and I fought a losing battle against comparing it with Lilly's silky mass. And of course I'd remembered the feel of Scully's hair before the treatments - just as soft and silky as Lilly's. One more outward reminder of this insidious monster - At that moment, if cancer had been a tangible creature, I would have killed it with my bare hands - for forcing me to feel a need to choose; to notice a difference and to make a comparison. "Mulder... why? Why the kiss?" Scully's low, choking words reached my ears as her head moved back so as to better see the face I quickly erased of sadness, and I managed a half-assed smile as I looked down at her. My words came out in a rasp. "Because we both needed it - and because I wanted it. Is that okay with you?" I held her gaze and watched the smile fill those baby blues first, before it spilled over into her face and curved her lips. "Yes, Mulder - it's okay with me..." I leaned her back into the pillows and pulled the blanket up over her shoulders, and held her hand as I guarded her sleep. I never called Lillian back, that day. **************** The quarterly budget meeting ended around twelve-thirty and I hurried to my office. Dropping a stack of files in the middle of my desk, I bent over to open the bottom drawer and grabbed my purse from within. I was supposed to meet Fox for lunch in fifteen minutes and I wanted to touch up my lipstick and run a brush through my hair before leaving the office. As I straightened up, I noticed the message waiting light blinking on my telephone. I set my purse down and picked up the phone. Tucking the receiver under my chin, I quickly dialed the code to access my voice mail. Great, I sighed. Three messages. I glanced at my watch impatiently as I listened to the beginning of the first message. Not important, I decided and quickly pressed a button to skip to the next message. I listened for nearly a minute as one of the junior partners in the firm droned on in an outraged voice over the 'hatchet job' I had performed on the latest expense voucher he had turned in to accounting. "Next time, don't take your mistress out on the company dime," I muttered as I cut the message off in mid-drone and skipped ahead again. Eager to get through this last message so that I would not be late for my lunch date, my fingers hovered over the keypad. The caller had barely begun speaking when I impatiently pressed the pound key to skip over the call. "Damn," I said as I realized that I had cut off a message from Fox. I punched in my access code again and rolled my eyes in frustration as I waded my way through the first two messages again. Finally, I heard Fox's low rumble as his message played in my ear. "Lilly, I'm so sorry, but I'm going to have to cancel our lunch date. I thought I'd stop by and check up on Scully, maybe take some lunch to her place. She's still not eating and I'd like to try to bully her into eating some soup or something." His voice had been brisk as he spoke, then suddenly it softened. "I'm really sorry, sweetheart. I promise I'll make it up to you. I just... you've been so great about all of this, but I... I hate the thought of her lying in that apartment all alone." I could hear the muffled sound of someone speaking in the background and then - "Lilly, honey - I've got to get to this meeting. I promise I'll call you later. Bye." And then he was gone. I played the message back a second time and tossed my purse into the bottom drawer of the desk as I sank down into my chair. I sat quietly for several long moments as I willed my racing heart to slow, then I pushed my chair away from the desk and stood. I grabbed five dollars from my wallet and walked down the hallway to the elevator. As I rode the elevator down to the lobby, I kept my eyes glued to the electronic panel that displayed the floor numbers as the elevator swiftly made its way downward from the fiftieth floor. My heels clicked across the marble tiles as I strode across the lobby to the small luncheonette that was attached to my office building. He hates the thought that she is lying all alone in her apartment, but it doesn't seem to bother him that he's left me lying alone in my apartment three nights this week, I thought as I viciously yanked a plastic container of fruit salad out of one of the refrigerated cases. I smacked the plastic container and a bottle of diet iced tea onto the counter and fished the five-dollar bill out of my pocket. I stuffed my change into my pocket and snatching up the bag containing my meager lunch, I stalked back across the lobby to the bank of elevators. She's dying, I reminded myself. You're not being fair to him, I thought as I entered my office and closed the door behind me. I sank back down into my chair and pried the lid from the container of fruit salad. Staring sightlessly downward, my eyes filled with sudden tears, until the small mountain of fruit was a blur of reds and greens and pale, pale orange. Sniffing, I reached for the telephone and pressed the first button on my speed dial. The phone rang only one time before I lunged forward to slam the receiver back into the cradle. I can't call him, I thought. I shouldn't. What would I say? My fingertips stroked idly over the slick plastic of the phone and I resolutely lifted the receiver again and punched down another button on my speed dial. The phone rang three times before it was answered. "Hello?" I closed my eyes with relief as the beloved voice drifted over the telephone lines. "Gran?" I ask softly. She laughed lightly at the sound of my voice and my lips curved upward in response. This, I thought, this was the right call to make. "Lilly! Darling girl! What's wrong?" Her voice was sharp and knowing and I briefly tried to pretend that nothing was bothering me - even though I knew it was useless. My grandmother would pry the truth out of me in minutes - and that was exactly what I had been counting on when I picked up the phone. Still, there was a ritual to be maintained... "What makes you think that something is wrong Gran?" I say, trying to inject a teasing note into my voice. "Can't a girl just give her grandmother a call if she wants to?" Gran made a tsking sound and I could picture the slow, sad shaking of her head. "Lillian Maxwell, I have been able to tell when you are lying from the time you were able to say your first word," she said tartly. "Now, what is so wrong that you have to call me in the middle of the afternoon when you know my shows are about to start?" Her comment had the desired effect when I snorted out a tiny laugh. Gran is simply not the type to spend her day watching game shows and soap operas. The truth is that I was lucky that she was even home. Gran keeps busy volunteering at the library for reading hour after school or by getting together with her girlfriends for an afternoon of bridge. She always has something going on. She tells me that an active life keeps her young. I tucked the phone under my chin and listlessly poked at the fruit salad with a plastic fork. "Oh, Gran," I sighed heavily. "What isn't wrong?" I groaned. And she listened quietly as everything spilled out of me in a rush. Dana's cancer and its effect on Fox and our relationship. The canceled dates. The distracted look on his face when he was away from her. The constant telephone calls. Gran listened and made small encouraging noises until I slumped back against the imitation leather of my chair in exhaustion. "Oh my sweet girl," she finally said. "I wish I could wave a magic wand and tell you that everything is going to be all right." I heard her sigh softly into the telephone. "Let me ask you something," she began. "Sure Gran," I said as I lifted a chunk of cantaloupe from the container and began to nibble on it. I could hear her lifting the kettle from stove; Gran says that the ritual of brewing a pot of tea helps her to think. "Are you afraid that Fox is falling in love with his partner?" I sucked in a deep breath at the blunt question. Gran had sifted through everything that I had said to get down to the base level. "Maybe," I whispered in a choked voice. I dropped the piece of fruit back into the container, all pretense of having an appetite gone when Gran gave voice to my deepest fear. I couldn't see her, but I knew she was nodding as she let the tea steep in the pot. "Okay," she said softly. "Then let me ask you another question. Before his partner became ill, did you ever worry about the nature of their relationship?" I instinctively started to shake my head no, but I paused and forced myself to really think about my answer. "Noooo," I said slowly. "No. There was never any question. Fox always made it very clear to me that Dana is his partner and his best friend. I never had any cause to doubt him," I told her. I closed my eyes and listened to the rhythmic clinking of Gran's teaspoon against the delicate china of the teacup and I gave an involuntary smile as I pictured her lifting the cup to her lips to gently blow on the hot liquid. Gran was a firm believer that it was acceptable to drink coffee from a mug, but that tea should be sipped out of the prettiest, most translucent of china cups. "And did Dana ever give you cause to believe that she felt more for Fox than friendship?" Gran asked, prodding gently. Again, I forced myself to think back. From the moment I had met Dana, I knew that she cared deeply for Fox. Over the years, I had come to know that she loved him - and that he loved her - but it was a love based in friendship. It was a love that had never threatened my relationship with Fox. There had been times, early in my love affair with Fox, when I wondered if Dana's cool, reserved attitude toward me was the result of some deeper, hidden feelings that she had for him. But as time passed, I realized that we were simply different people, with different interests and vastly different outlooks on the world. "No, Gran," I said. "I've never questioned the depth of her feelings for him or his feelings before. They are often away for days on end when they are working on a case and I've never been threatened by it," I told her honestly. "Until now." I heard Gran settle the china cup into its saucer. "Well," she said finally. "I'm not saying that you don't have cause to worry," she told me softly. "But I think you need to speak with him, Lilly," she counseled. "I know," I sighed as I brushed a tear from the corner of my eye. "I know, Gran," I said. "But it's hard... I don't know what to say." I sniffed and yanked a tissue out of the box that was perched on the top of my desk. I dabbed at my eyes as I let Gran's loving, familiar voice wash over and reassure me. "Tell him the truth," she advised. "Tell him your fears," she said. Her soft voice paused for a moment, thiking... then she gave me her final words of advice. "Fox is a good man," she said. "But he's spreading himself too thin. Don't force him to make a choice," she warned. "Lilly - he needs you now, even if he isn't showing it. But that doesn't mean that you don't need things from him as well. Just tell him the truth." After I thanked her and told her that I loved her, I hung up the phone and thought about everything she had said to me. I nodded sharply and grabbed a file from the stack on the center of my desk and began to study it while I nibbled on my lunch. I had come to a decision. ********************** end of chapter three ~ Chapter Four ~ The knock on my door came just as I was finishing cramming my dishwasher with several days' worth of dirty dishes. I hadn't been home very much and since my housecleaning skills always left a lot to be desired, the dishes were usually the last to receive my grudging attention. Drying my hands on a towel, I walked to the door and smiled when I beheld Lilly framed in the doorway, a bottle of wine in her hands. I dropped a kiss on her upturned mouth and ushered her inside, taking her sweater and laying it over the back of a chair. She handed me the bottle and smiled at me brightly. "An apology for the last-minute visit, Fox - but I'm glad you're home. I've missed you these past couple of days." I set the bottle down on a small table near the door and curled my arms around her waist, giving her a big hug. She smelled so nice and felt good in my arms. Leaning back a little, I stared into her lovely face, and wondered why, when it seemed to me I finally had all that I wanted - I couldn't take it to the next level of commitment. I had wanted this for so long, and now it was within my grasp... "I've missed you too, Lilly. Come sit down. I'll pour the wine and we'll talk, okay?" She nodded and perched on my sofa as I walked to the kitchen and dug out a corkscrew, and then scrabbled in my cupboards for wine glasses. I was moving slowly, avoiding the re- entry into my living room. I knew what she wanted to talk about; I'd known since her phone call, an hour ago. It didn't take much of a profiler to figure it out. I'd been missing in action a lot lately, even when we were together. I knew with certainty that Lilly wanted to know where she stood in my life. Walking back onto the living room I set the glasses down and wrestled with the bottle for a few minutes, finally working the cork free and pouring some into both glasses. I handed her one and we drank in silence, with me waiting to hear what she had to say and both dreading and looking forward to getting everything out in the open. "Fox... first of all I just want you to know that I am here for you, no matter what - whenever you need a shoulder, I'm here. I know this has got to be so difficult for you - your best friend in the world is so sick, and dying..." Fortunately for Lilly her eyes were lowered as she said that dreaded word; she'd taken a quick swallow of wine right after she spoke and I know she never saw what had to be one serious flare of anger in my own eyes as I processed what she'd said. My fingers clenched around the glass; she didn't see that, either. I fought to keep my temper, knowing Lilly meant well. She would never intentionally say something to cause me such direct pain - it simply wasn't in her nature. She truly wanted to help me, I knew this. And there wasn't anything she could do for me because in my mind and in my heart Scully was going to beat this. She was going to live. She had to live; I would accept nothing less. So I drank my wine and sighed into my empty glass and turned to face Lilly on the sofa, choosing my words very carefully. "Lilly, thank you. I know these past weeks haven't been easy for you either. I've been gone a lot and have been canceling dates left and right. I appreciate so much your understanding." I reached out my hand and clasped hers, twining my fingers around her palm as I searched for the words I wanted to say. "Dana Scully means a great deal to me, and I can't let this defeat her. I won't contemplate for a second her passing from my life. She would never give up on me, if the situations were reversed and I was going through something like this. I have to be there for her when she needs me, Lilly." For one tiny second I saw the smallest drop of disappointment in her eyes. And I wanted to say I hadn't seen it - that Lilly couldn't be that selfish. But as quickly as that thought had streaked across my mind it dissipated. Lilly couldn't help being human, and I would probably react in much the same manner, had it been me, trying to keep a relationship going. I tugged on Lilly's hand and pulled her into my arms, needing to feel her vitality and her warmth. Fighting Scully's battles with her was emotionally exhausting. I was so tired, but I needed to make Lilly understand, and I had to re-affirm in some way my desire to keep striving for that 'Joe Average' life. I buried my face into Lilly's soft hair, resolutely ignoring the small voice inside of me that screamed aloud how healthy, and whole, and silky and firm and rounded and real the woman in my arms felt, compared to... No! I would not go there. I refused to go there. It would break my heart to go there. I raised my head and met Lilly's loving gaze for two brief seconds, before covering her mouth with mine. And I was suddenly ravenous, for feminine warmth and tenderness; for the balm of comfort she could offer; for the love I knew I needed yet wasn't quite ready to accept. I let my lips and tongue soothe her immediate worries and allowed my body to be led by its own primal need to seek the physical release it craved. I pressed her down into the sofa cushions, my hands stroking her skin in wide, firm sweeps, trailing kisses over her cheeks and down her neck. When her pretty dress got in the way I removed it carefully and draped it over the back of the sofa. I slipped the straps of her lacy bra down over shoulders scented with delicate perfume and I kissed a path over each of her full breasts, thinking how voluptuous Lilly was compared to Scully's tiny slenderness. And as soon as that thought crossed me I shook it off, more determined than ever to submerge myself in my lover's tender embrace, and concentrate only on her. Our lovemaking was silent and intense and although her need for me soaked into my consciousness in a way I could not return - not yet - I gave her all of myself that I was capable of giving, at that moment. I responded to every broken moan that escaped her throat as I made love to her with my hands and my body; as I cupped her hips and opened her gently and gazed down into her half-closed eyes, I moved against her, and within her eager heat. I felt her legs close around me as I thrust deeper, and when her moans became disjointed vows of love, gasped into my ear as I shuddered and clenched inside her... I told myself it was only the heat of the moment and that Lilly had only meant she cared, each time she'd whispered, "Love you, oh, Fox... love you." Much later, in the tangled sheets of my bed, dozing off with Lilly curled into my side, I told myself she hadn't realized what she'd been saying - and I suppose thinking that way made it easier to accept my hesitancy to commit - and to take that last small step. At least that's what I told myself. ***************** A week of heaven. Seven days of feeling like the luckiest woman on the face of the earth - of being the envy of other women. I suppose I should have been satisfied with it - content. It was far more than a lot of people had; this I knew. It was a hundred times more than Dana Scully had. And I did feel a twinge of shame for thinking that way, I truly did. It wasn't like me to be unkind in thought. I tried to tell myself I wouldn't normally be so unkind, but there were extenuating circumstances. For the first time in my life I was in love. And being in love does odd things to a body. It makes them insecure and achy; makes them dream and plot and plan for the future regardless of whether or not the object of their affection is of the same mindset. And in my case it made me want to be selfish, to want to cut out anyone in Fox's life who could claim a piece of his personal time. I knew it was unfair and unworthy of me - but I couldn't stop myself. Last week when I'd called Fox and then gone over to see him and to talk it out, the evening had not ended quite the way I'd hoped. Oh, going to bed with him and being the recipient of his tender lovemaking was wonderful, as always. He'd made exquisite love to me and I fell asleep cocooned in the warmth of his strong arms with his breath puffing in my ear. He had fallen asleep almost immediately and I had stifled my disappointment at not being able to talk to him. I knew he'd been very tired - I knew he'd been burning the candle at both ends. And I knew I was not being a supportive girlfriend. But I'd wanted - needed - to firm up the groundwork of our relationship; to choose boundaries and stay within them. I wanted Fox to tell me that I was numero uno in his life - that I came first regardless of his partner and her quality of life. Lying there in his arms, I spent half the night beating myself up for begrudging Dana a part of his time. I spent the other half vindicating my attitude. I finally dozed off to sleep jealously hoarding the deep warmth emanating from my lover's body and promising myself to re-double my efforts in my quest to be everything Fox Mulder needed - friend as well as lover - confidante, helpmate... Future wife material. Oh yes, in the back of my subconscious mind, already heavy with sleep and sinking down into the vacuum of my dreams... God help me. I was that needy. I was that determined. I spent the weekend with Fox, and it was wonderful. I never went home after Friday night for anything except a change or two of clothing, and to water my plants or do a little cooking. We went out to dinner on Saturday night and spent all of Sunday at the lake - and luck was with us for Fox's phone never rang once. He was between cases and mostly office-bound during the week, which meant the weekend was ours. Fox was wonderful; caring and loving and tender with me. A tiny voice deep inside me kept whispering that he was acting this way because I'd more or less pushed him into it. I as resolutely pushed that voice so far within that it became a distant echo that I could easily ignore. I told myself Fox wouldn't do anything he truly didn't want to do; that in declaring myself on Friday night when we'd made love, I'd opened up his eyes once and for all and it was a much- needed revelation. All that following week Fox really did act like a man in love. He never said the words, but sometimes actions spoke louder than words. That's what I told myself. Dana had come back to work and seemed to be holding steady, so Fox had the days with her in the office. I had asked him on Monday how she was doing and his smiling answer had been short but did reassure me that perhaps seeing her at work would be enough for him. "She's tired, Lilly - but she says she feels better. I'm going to keep an eye on her at work and make sure she doesn't overdo it." I had smiled back at him and nodded, relieved. Maybe things were starting to look up. I sent Dana a 'Thinking of You' card and looked forward to the rest of the week. We met at his apartment every evening after work. It was a relatively quiet week for both of us, and getting together to spend the evening, and then the night, was making me feel positively pampered. By the end of the week my confidence was at an all-time high and I felt much more secure about our relationship. I cooked for him on Friday evening and after we cleaned up the dinner dishes we snuggled on the sofa together and I did my best to gently prod Fox into letting me know more of his life. I'd been his girlfriend for over two years and so much about him was still a mystery to me. I had only met his mother twice, and he rarely spoke of his father, who I knew was deceased - or his missing sister. His mother was a stately, still-lovely woman who had greeted me with conservative politeness on the two occasions I'd met her. I had seen photographs of his father and his sister Samantha. Fox said she'd been kidnapped when she was a child, and had never been found. I'd let it go for two years; curious as hell but determined not to prod and risk pushing him away. On that Friday evening I did the one thing I swore I'd never do: I prodded. Confident enough in the way Fox had responded to me over the prior weekend and suddenly more secure of my place in his life than I'd been in a long time, I tried my best to guide the conversation into areas probably best left alone. I waited until we'd settled on the sofa with slices of pineapple cake that I'd made at home and brought over. Cups of coffee sat on the low cocktail table in front of the sofa and as I curled up next to Fox and watched him eat his cake, I thought for the umpteenth time how utterly beautiful this man was. More than outward good looks; the world was full of handsome men and if one wanted only that level of beauty the pickings were generous. There was so much more to Fox Mulder, and the beauty within, the beauty of his soul... it shone through those amazing hazel eyes and reached out to embrace the world with the wonder of a man-child whose enchantment hadn't really dimmed all that much - not yet. From the little he'd told me about his job, I knew he'd seen some truly horrible things. But it hadn't hardened him, in the two years I had known him. It hadn't laid him low. I prayed in that moment that nothing in his life would take him down like that - and if it did then I would be by his side to help him. So we ate our cake and made small talk, and I finished my dessert and most of my coffee before I broached the subject of his family. I truly felt it was necessary for Fox to open up to me, and finally let me in. Two years was a long time to be involved with someone at this level of intimacy and still be left so much in the dark. "Fox - how is your mother? Have you heard from her lately?" I was proud of the way I'd chosen to bring it up; asking after his mother seemed a good way to begin. Fox regarded me curiously at the mention of her, but answered agreeably enough. "I suppose she's well; I haven't spoken to her lately. Usually if she needs me she calls." Fox finished off his cake and relaxed against the sofa cushions with his cup, obviously not prepared to say any more. I studied him, this sometimes-enigmatic lover of mine - and suddenly it was of paramount importance that he talk about his family - now, tonight. In some insecure part of my brain I rationalized the need for this confidence as his assurance that I was part of his life and a much-desired ingredient in the recipe of his future. I told myself that if Fox loved me he would want to share all aspects of himself with me, and I had to know that very minute. I took a deep breath and plunged in. "You must miss her when you don't hear from her, Fox - she seems like a very special lady. I enjoyed meeting her; maybe we could go up and see her. I bet she'd like that." As soon as I said it I realized I'd made a mistake, for the look on Fox's face was a clear indication that I'd somehow overstepped whatever bounds he'd set for me - and the knowledge that I had been set into boundaries in the first place... it scared me. Without answering me Fox set down his empty cup, then stood and collected the plates and forks, carrying them into the kitchen. I heard the clatter of dishes and silverware in the sink, followed by running water. I sat on the sofa mentally berating myself for opening my mouth and saying anything. And I immediately redeemed myself by rationalizing that I had every right to assume the man I loved would be willing and eager to incorporate me into his family life. I looked up as Fox re-entered the living room and sat back down on the sofa. He picked up my hand, which had been resting in my lap, and encased it in his warm palm - and it was several more seconds before either of us spoke. "Fox, I'm sorry -" My voice trailed off when he squeezed my fingers. "It's all right, Lilly. Your comment just took me by surprise, that's all. Look - my mother and I - well, we're not close. Neither of us feel the need to get together frequently. She knows if she needs me she can call me and I'll go right up there as soon as I can get away. She has a lot of friends and she spends most of her time with them." The explanation seemed purposely vague to me, and of course I couldn't leave it alone. "But I would think that in light of the loss of her husband, and a child... she'd want you around her a lot. It had to be so hard on her when your sister was kidnapped, and having to come to grips with not knowing what became of her. Having to accept her death, find closure..." Once again my voice broke off, as Fox suddenly let go of my hand, and stood. I glanced up into his eyes, and the darkened hazel of them should have warned me that I was treading in dangerous waters. My need to get closer to Fox blinded me to that danger. And stupidly, I blundered on. "I'm sure she and your father were grateful you were safe and sound, at home with them, Fox - that had to have been a comfort..." Fox had tuned away from me while I'd been speaking but as I uttered that last sentence he whipped around to face me and the storm in his eyes had gotten much blacker. "Lilly... I don't want to talk about this. I told you my mother and I are not close. Believe me, it's not necessary to go visiting her; she would probably not appreciate the gesture. Let's drop it, okay? It doesn't matter; it's not important." His jaw was set tightly and it should have been obvious to me that this was one subject he was unwilling to discuss, for whatever reason. But honestly, I could not see why something as important as a family should be kept so quiet. And so in my infinite wisdom I chose to pursue it. Not the smartest move I ever made... "Fox, I simply meant that it was good for them that they had you to ease their pain over losing your sister like that - sometimes another child can lessen the pain of the one that died -" Fox's low rasp cut through my placating explanation and effectively shut me up; not a moment too soon, either. "Dammit! Not now. I can't talk about this, Lilly. Not with everything else I've got on my mind. I can't get into this with you right now; there's so much you don't understand." With that, Fox moved to the front door and locked it, then snapped off the kitchen light, adding, "It's late, and I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow. We should get some sleep." With a troubled sigh I stood up and walked ahead of him to the bedroom, knowing I had pushed it way too far, angered at myself for doing so, trying not to be angry with him for not opening up to me and relieved that he still wanted me to stay over. I took the bathroom first, cleaning my face and brushing my teeth with the spare toothbrush I kept there. I left the light on for Fox and walked to the bed, slipping underneath the covers and watching warily as he moved silently around the bedroom, hanging up his clothes. He didn't say a word as he entered the bathroom, and I listened to more running water as he finished up and came back to the bed. In the dim light his skin gleamed and his hair looked almost black. The sight of him like this never failed to make me ache - and tonight I ached in a new way, the ache of panic. I couldn't lose him. The bed dipped as he climbed in, and straightened the covers over his waist. Seconds ticked by, with neither of us moving or touching. It had never felt this awkward between us before, not even that very first time in his bed when it should have been strange and new and shaky. My fault... God. When would I learn? I was so busy beating myself up about it that when Fox turned to me and took me into his arms, I barely felt it. Not until I looked up to find his face so close to mine did I realize that he was holding me and I had started to cry, feeling the hot tears tracking a burning slide down my face. In the silent bedroom Fox's voice was soft and clear. "Please don't cry, Lilly. I'm not angry. I don't like to talk about my family. You couldn't have known that, honey. I'm sorry..." And he kissed that apology against my parted lips and I sucked it down into me and kept it against my heart as a promise, that if not tonight then maybe soon - very soon - Fox would let me in. And I tried not to think about the probability that Dana already knew everything about him - and that I still knew so little... As Fox held me in his arms and kissed my shoulders, down over my collarbone to my breast, I re-doubled my determination to find a way to make him understand and to know that I was all he would ever need. I wound myself all around him, entwining not only my body but my soul with Fox Mulder - not sure if he accepted all I was giving him - and not quite certain I could handle it if I discovered that my love wasn't what he needed. ***************** Somebody's phone was ringing, from a very far distance. I could hear it right on the edge of my consciousness, and it bothered me the way an annoying mosquito would irritate. I was too tired to answer it; that's why God made answering machines. Dimly I felt the bed dip a little, and I opened one eye. In the shadowy bedroom I could just make out Lilly's arm as she reached over me to grab at the phone. As I let myself succumb to sleep, her low tones faded out, and then right back in again, accompanied by a hand shaking my shoulder. "Fox... it's for you. It's Dana." I sat up abruptly, all traces of sleep gone, as I took the phone out of Lilly's hand. I raised it to my ear with trepidation, knowing that for Scully to call me this late at night outside of a case, and as ill as she was... "Scully, what's wrong?" For a moment I could hear her breathing into the receiver, but she didn't talk. She breathed, then sniffed once. Jesus... she was crying... "Scully! Tell me what's wrong!" I pressed the phone to my ear, hard - as if I could will her to speak to me by applying pressure. I heard another breath, then her voice; shaky and thick. "Mulder... sorry. I didn't know... you had company. Sorry to bother you." Her voice dropped to almost a whisper, and I knew she would hang up without telling me anything. I found myself on my feet with the phone gripped in my hand, feeling the worst sort of panic. "Scully, wait! Don't hang up. Are you sick? Tell me! I'll come over, okay? I can be there in fifteen minutes." Her hurried protest rang in my ear. "No Mulder... it's all right. I'll be all right. I just... I had another nosebleed and I guess it scared me. I couldn't get it to stop, and..." Her words ended in a choking cough, and a loud clatter in my ear told me she'd dropped the phone. I paced the floor and repeatedly called her name, feeling the original panic escalating fast. "Scully, talk to me! Come on, what's going on?" I glanced at the bed once, meeting Lilly's concerned gaze and wondering if I could look as frenzied as I felt. I was on the verge of dropping the phone myself and tearing over there, when she got back on the phone. "I'm here, Mulder... sorry. I - Mulder... I just... I don't know - I just wanted to talk to you, but I didn't know Lillian was there... I'm sorry. I should just - you should go back to sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow." A ragged breath in my ear, and that sound, combined with what little she'd told me, was enough for me to break out into a cold sweat. Dana Scully is the strongest person I know. Her threshold for pain has always amazed me... her repetitious and notorious "I'm fine", a standard in our partnership. I kept the phone to my ear and grabbed my jeans, hopping around on one foot as I struggled to get them on, not bothering with underwear. As I fought to get my clothes on without dropping the phone, I made her tell me her symptoms. "Throwing up. The last time there was blood in it. My head is splitting, and I'm so dizzy... had a treatment today but I don't think it helped me. My nose wouldn't stop bleeding, Mulder..." The fade-out of her voice coincided with another clatter - she'd dropped the phone again. I could feel the blood drain out of my head, as I shouted into the phone. "Scully! SCULLY! Dammit!" Lilly was on her feet and at my side as I yanked on a shirt and scrabbled under the bed for my sneakers. I shoved my feet in without unlacing them and turned to her briefly to press a kiss to her temple. She followed me to the door, running to keep up, and I looked back at her one last time before I ran out the door. "Lilly, I'm sorry. Scully is deathly ill. I've got to get over there. I'll call you later - and I'm sorry, honey." I saw her nod, worry in her soft eyes, as I ran out the door and down the hall, not bothering to wait for the elevator. I ran out of the building and jumped into my car and roared off... and all I could see in my head was Scully, bleeding from her little nose and clutching her pounding head while she vomited with the extreme nausea her treatments caused. All alone with her cancer, while I lay in bed with my girlfriend... I couldn't stand it. I wouldn't be able to bear it if anything else happened to Scully; if she did not survive this physical devastation. I drove like a fiend, all the way to her place. From: Tnv099@aol.com Date: Mon, 25 Jun 2001 23:01:06 EDT Subject: To Love Somebody by: Char Chaffin and Tess Source: direct ~ Chapter Five ~ My hand searched blindly across the floor for the phone that I had dropped. I wrapped my fingers around the slick plastic casing and lifted the phone back to my ear. "Mulder?" I listened for a moment before I realized that he wasn't on the line any more and I fumbled for the off button. He was on his way over here. Oh God. If I hadn't felt nauseous before, I certainly did now. I don't know what I was thinking when I picked up the phone to call him at two o'clock in the morning. The truth was that I wasn't thinking - I was reacting. I had been feeling so good all week. It had felt wonderful to be back at work and a productive member of society and I wasn't prepared when the nausea had started shortly after I had eaten dinner. I spent a few minutes trying to convince myself that I had simply eaten something that had disagreed with me, but I've become very much attuned to my body and I recognized this symptom even as I tried to deny it. When the headache began to pound behind my eyes a short while later, I knew that my week-long reprieve was over. When it got to be too bad, when the fear became overwhelming, I picked up the phone to call Mulder. Lillian's soft voice when I had been expecting Mulder's middle-of-the-night mumble had thrown me for a loop. I can honestly say that it never occurred to me that she would be sharing Mulder's bed when I broke down and called him. In the last week or so, Lillian had dropped off my radar. From the moment Mulder had pressed his lips to mine last week, I have been hyperaware of him in a way that I had never been before. His mouth had tugged lightly at mine and I had buried my fingers in the springy warmth of his hair and when our lips parted, I had looked cautiously into his eyes, searching for a sign - for something that would tell me that he had kissed me as an expression of pity or of sorrow. But his eyes had been clear and honest when he told me that he kissed me because we needed it; that he had kissed me because he had wanted to. I had fallen in love with him... Not at that moment - no. But like a princess in a fairy tale, it had taken just the brush of his mouth over mine to make me realize that I had loved him for years; that I had loved him in a way that I'd never loved before. For so long now he had been the first thing I thought of when I awoke in the morning and it was his face that I'd see when I drifted off to sleep at the end of the day. I'd spent the past week basking in the warmth of his company, soaking in the pleasure of being the center of his attention as we whiled away the hours in his basement office. I spent five days enjoying the happy smile that was plastered to his face whenever he turned to look at me while we worked. I had foolishly mistaken the joyful gleam in his eyes to be a reciprocation of my feelings. It had taken Lillian's soft, sweet voice to shake my fantasy loose and to bring the truth to life. I fought down a bitter swell of jealousy as I pictured her lying in Mulder's bed, wrapped in his arms. When she answered the phone, her voice had been sleepy. Sated? The pounding behind my eyes seemed to increase. Now, he was on his way over to my apartment and the thought of facing him was... mortifying. I felt raw, exposed - the pain and the nausea leaving me ill equipped to hide my feelings from him. I stumbled into the bathroom as another wave of sickness swept over me and when it passed I leaned shakily against the porcelain sink and studied my face in the mirror above it. I was a mess. I soaked a washcloth under the cold-water tap and held it to my face for a long moment then I used my toothbrush to scrub the bitter taste from my mouth. Snapping off the bathroom light, I stepped out into the hallway and slumped wearily against the wall. The simple act of washing my face and brushing my teeth had wiped me out and I crawled back to the living room on my hands and knees. I climbed onto the sofa and gratefully stretched out on the overstuffed cushions. I eyed the prescription bottle of pain medication that was lying open on the coffee table and then I squinted at the watch on my wrist. I had already exceeded the dosage amount, but I might as well have been swallowing baby aspirin for all the good the pills were doing. My eyes were burning with the strain of trying to hold them open. I closed them with a sigh of relief and fretfully rubbed my fingertips against the bridge of my nose. I never heard my door open and I was unaware of Mulder entering my home until he touched me with gentle hands. "Scully?" His fingers stroked down my arm and he lightly squeezed me above the elbow. His voice took on a panicked edge as he called my name again. "Scully? Can you hear me?" He groaned softly and his hands clamped onto my arms as he gently shook me. "God! Scully, please - wake up!" His voice was pleading and I struggled to lift heavy lashes to see him. His face was frantic and a smile wobbled on his lips when his eyes made contact with mine. "Oh thank God!" he exclaimed. My eyes slid closed again for a moment and I drew in a fortifying breath as I gathered my strength in order to open them again. All of the joy that I had associated with him this week had been drained from his face as I watched his gaze sweep over me. I saw the shimmer of tears in his eyes when he noticed the towel that I had spread over the cushions of my sofa in an attempt to protect them from the nosebleeds. "Oh, Scully," he moaned sadly as he rose from where he had been crouching. Bending over, he scooped me into his arms and sank down onto the sofa, settling me into his lap. "Should I take you to the hospital?" he asked quietly. I shook my head and burrowed my face into his neck and inhaled deeply to fill my lungs with his scent. The pain that lanced through my heart rivaled the relentless throbbing behind my eyes as the musky aroma that clung to his skin assailed me and once again I was left to wonder what I had interrupted when I had called him. Weakly, I pushed against his shoulders, trying to force him to let go of me, but he simply curled his hand around the back of my head and tightened the arm that was wrapped around my waist. His grip was gentle, yet purposeful and within seconds, I was once again slumped against him. His body shifted almost imperceptibly as he rocked me in his arms and I let his wordless, crooning murmurs wash over me. I lifted one arm and wrapped it around his shoulder. I settled my cheek more comfortably against his chest and my breathing fell into concert with his as I was soothed by the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath me. I was drifting, caught somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, between pain and peace when the nausea struck again. I clapped a hand over my mouth and pushed ineffectually against him. "Scully, where are you going?" he asked as he tried to pull me back into his arms. I shook my head violently and cried out as a fresh wave of pain burst behind my eyes at my sudden movement. "Sick!" I gasped, stumbling to my feet as he finally loosened his grip on me. I staggered dizzily for a second and Mulder wrapped his arms around me and carried me into the bathroom. I fell to my knees next to the toilet and shuddered as I hung my head over the bowl. The bitter taste of bile rose in my throat, but my stomach had long ago been emptied and I hung my head as I was wracked by the dry heaves. Mulder crouched beside me and rubbed a soothing hand over my back and his voice was a low murmur of gentle compassion and support. "It's okay," he whispered continually. "You're going to be all right." I concentrated on the sound of his voice until the violent shudders faded. Exhausted, I fell back on my heels and kept my chin pressed into my chest. Although I was grateful for his presence, I couldn't bear to look at him - to see the sadness and fear on his face. I shouldn't have called him, I thought miserably. Less than an hour ago he had been sleeping soundly in his bed, in his girlfriend's arms no doubt, and now he was kneeling on the cold tile of my bathroom floor in the middle of the night. I reached out and tore a wad of toilet paper from the roll and gingerly blew my nose, surreptitiously checking for blood; grateful when there was none. I reached up and grabbed the edge of the sink for support as Mulder helped me to my feet. He filled a cup with water and I took it from him, rinsing my mouth out. "Tired?" he asked softly. When I nodded, he lifted me into his arms again and carried me into the bedroom, setting me down in the middle of the bed. He sank down on the edge of the bed and smoothed the hair back from my forehead. "I wish you would let me take you to the hospital," he said imploringly. I sighed and shook my head, nestling my hot cheek into the cool cotton of the pillow beneath it. "Won't help," I whispered. "Please, don't make me go." The headache raged unabated and I kept my eyes closed, feeling, rather than seeing him inch closer. "When are you due to take your next pain-killer?" he asked and I felt him shift as if he was preparing to go into the other room for the small plastic bottle lying on my coffee table. "I can't take another one until morning," I rasped as I grabbed his hand and pulled him back onto the mattress. He moved closer to me and gathered my hands in his. "I know the side effects of the treatments are horrible," he murmured as he stroked his thumbs over the backs of my hands. "But the treatments are necessary if you're going to beat this thing." I fought off the urge to tell him the truth - that the treatments weren't working - but I held back. The doctors hadn't admitted it yet, but I knew - somehow I knew - that I was fighting a losing battle. My body was weakening and I realized that I needed to begin to prepare Mulder for the inevitable. But not tonight, I told myself. I don't have the strength to tell him tonight... His fingers had begun to trace tiny patterns over my forehead and I felt his weight press lightly into me as he leaned over me. His breath stirred the hair near my temple and then he brushed his lips over my brow, just as he had in the corridor of a hospital in Allentown, Pennsylvania and just as he had done countless times since that night. He pressed his mouth warm and tender on the skin between my eyebrows, just above the place where the tumor was growing fast and strong. Miraculously I felt the pain ebb and with each whispered kiss, my limbs relaxed into the sheets beneath my body as sleep finally crept forward to claim me. Long moments passed and I was nearly asleep when I felt Mulder begin to ease away from me. "Good night," he whispered softly as he sat up. I reached out quickly and clutched his wrist tightly. "Don't leave," I begged sleepily. I pried open drowsy eyes at the soft sound of his sneakers thudding onto the floor and then he was sliding into the bed beside me. "Go to sleep," he ordered softly as he curled his body toward mine. "I'll stay right here," he promised. I turned onto my side and snuggled my cheek into the pillow as I caught his fingers with my own. "Thank you for coming over," I murmured around a yawn. My eyes blinked open again to study his face. I was reluctant to fall asleep because I knew that when morning came, I would once again wake up alone. But Mulder was determined that I should rest and he stroked his knuckles over my cheek. "Sleep," he demanded again in a soft but firm voice. I was losing my struggle to stay awake. My eyes met his and I forced a tired smile onto my lips and he matched it with one of his own. I nodded and curled my body around our joined hands. "Good night, Mulder," I whispered. I was asleep before I ever heard his reply. ************************* When four o'clock came and went without a sign of Fox or a phone call, I gave up pacing around the kitchen, and turned out the lights as I made my way back to the bedroom. I knew I would not be getting any more sleep that night, so I picked up the remote and clicked on the TV. Never much of a tube watcher, I mostly wanted the background noise. And I wasn't in the mood for music. I sat propped up against a mound of pillows that smelled of my lover, and I watched an old black and white sci-fi film without even seeing it, reminding myself several times in an hour or so that Fox WAS my lover. Mine, not Dana's. He had been mine for so long now, mine in a way that his partner could never compete with - interfere with. Yes, it was true that he belonged to Dana in very complicated patterns, in some place that I could never go. I felt I had accepted that - was fine with it. And I had already admitted to myself that there was love between them - and it went very deep. But I could accept those feelings, as long as they didn't go beyond what I thought was right and proper between platonic friends. I could handle it... What I could not handle very well was the need I could see in Dana, and the way Fox reacted to it. As far as I was concerned the line between empathy and sympathy was as close as pity and love. When the emotions were engaged it didn't matter what their defining edge was - it all blurred into reactionary responses. And right now I knew Fox was being very reactionary. He saw his best friend in pain - and he wanted to help, even at the expense of himself. And Dana couldn't help the way she cared for him - God, who could? This is a very special man. I would think very few women could resist him - and Fox didn't even try to attract them; he didn't have to. He was also completely unaware of his own appeal. I watched a Japanese man run screaming down the middle of a city street with an enormous, Godzilla-like creature chasing him, and wondered if a casual observer of my and Fox's relationship would think I chased him. Did I come off as needy? Desperate? In most relationships there was usually one who loved, and one who was loved. I thought back on my past loves, trying to picture the way I was with those men - trying to remember if I'd ever been the one who was loved. My shoulders slumped as I realized that I had always done the loving... and as much as I refused to admit it I knew I was doing the loving this time, as well. I clicked off the stupid movie and slid down into the pillows, fighting to hold back tears. I hated feeling sorry for myself, and I despised feeling petty. My Gran had raised me better than that. If she knew how I resented Dana Scully, she'd flay me alive for my unkindness. The last time I'd sought her counsel and advice she'd warned me not to place Fox in a situation where he would have to choose. I understood the wisdom of her caution - if forced to make a choice I knew Fox would not pick me, not during this critical time in Dana's illness. He would sacrifice all his time and his energy for her and she would gratefully soak it right up. I couldn't blame her for it - any more than I could stop myself from resenting her, and in a very small and very mean part of my mind, wanting this to just be over. As soon as that awful thought came to me, I was truly horrified at the direction I'd been heading. I clapped both of my hands over my mouth in shock and sat up abruptly. God, I had just wished for a woman to hurry up and pass on so that I could have my boyfriend back... I had sunk frighteningly low. So low that I could begrudge a dying woman the comfort of her best friend - not only his comfort but any small bit of his time away from me. I felt like shit. Unfortunately, I also felt very human - and fragile, and weak. Where had all my hard-won independence gone? The little orphaned girl whose Gran had to take her in and play mommy and daddy; whose well-intentioned love and protectiveness had sometimes gotten heavy- handed. I'd been a good girl growing up but I had also struggled against those velvet bands and had won my right to lose as well as win... it was all a part of maturing. And I'd had my share of winning, and losing. I always tried to see the positive side of any event in my life, good or bad. This time I couldn't see anything past my own escalating panic, that the man I loved was in danger of falling for his partner, and would be too close to the situation to see the blurring of those defining edges - And I would be the ultimate loser. With a deep sigh I got out of Fox's bed and dressed in the dark. I dragged on my clothes with a heavy heart, knowing exactly where Fox was at this very moment and what he was doing. He'd be most likely sitting on the edge of Dana's bed holding her hand and willing her to improve - to get stronger. All of that healing warmth in those elegant hands of his, draining out of his fingertips and infusing life through her pale palms. And when Dana awoke in the morning he'd be in the same exact spot, still holding her hands... still sharing his warmth - his life. I told myself it was the right thing for him to do - I told myself I was proud of him for being that sort of wonderful man. I reminded myself that for now Dana needed him, but there would come a time when Dana would no longer be here, and when that day came Fox would be the one lost, and needy - and he'd draw upon my strength to put himself back together. I walked out of his apartment feeling better about most everything, including my brief bout of rotten selfishness - and took a cab home. *************** I woke up in the morning to find muted sunlight streaming over the bed. I stretched, feeling remarkably good considering how desperately ill I had been only a few hours earlier. Even more remarkable was the fact that Mulder was still asleep. In my bed. I pushed myself up onto an elbow and took advantage of the opportunity to study his face. His chest rose and fell steadily with his even breathing and his face was turned towards me. His eyelashes cast dark shadows on his cheekbones and his mouth was slightly open. I wanted to press my lips to his, to awaken him with my kisses... I studied him in the clear light of day and I knew that my love for him was true and strong and not something imagined and wished for in a moment of pain and weakness. Over the past four years I had loved him in every possible way - as partner, friend... as the man I would willingly die for. Knowing him has been the most important thing that has ever happened to me and I wanted so badly to cry out to him and to the world that I love him. But I didn't. It wouldn't be fair. Mulder didn't need to know that things had changed; that my feelings for him were stronger and deeper than ever before. I didn't want him to feel guilty for not returning my love; nor did I want him to sacrifice the happy life he had built with Lillian. I settled back against the pillows and closed my eyes, savoring the moment, lost in a world of make believe. I opened them again when Mulder sighed and shifted, and the moment was lost. This is not who we are, I realized. Long, lazy Saturday mornings snuggling in bed with Mulder were meant for another woman. He didn't belong to me. I slipped quietly from the bed and pulled a robe over my pajamas. As much as I longed to burrow back under the covers and into Mulder's arms, I didn't want to see the look on his face when he awoke to find me and not Lillian lying beside him. And although I knew that Mulder loved me deeply, I didn't believe that he was in love with me and I didn't want our sharing a bed to cloud or confuse things for him. I understood Mulder well enough to know that it wouldn't take much for him to take friendship and compassion and mistake it for love. My death was going to be agonizing enough for Mulder without him convincing himself that he had lost the woman he loved. I washed up quickly in the bathroom and pulled my limp hair into a loose ponytail before heading to the kitchen to start breakfast. I made a small pot of coffee for Mulder and a cup of tea for myself. I didn't want to risk upsetting my now steady stomach with the strongly brewed coffee that Mulder and I both enjoyed. I was pulling a box of frozen waffles from the freezer when I heard Mulder's feet thump hard onto the floor before the sound of his panicked voice reached me. "Scully!" he yelled as he moved from room to room. "I'm in here, Mulder," I called, frowning as I heard the heavy beat of his bare feet hitting the floor as he hurried into the kitchen. I stopped in the act of putting two waffles into the toaster oven, surprised by the frantic look on his face. "Mulder?" I asked. "What is it? What's wrong?" I blinked at him in confusion and gasped when he crossed the room in three long strides to snatch me into his arms, lifting my feet from the floor. "I woke up and you were gone," he rasped as he anxiously clamped his arms around my waist. "I was hungry," I said in a voice muffled by the soft cotton of his T-shirt. A disbelieving laugh rumbled through his chest and he pulled his head back in order to look down into my face. "You were hungry?" he asked incredulously. "But last night you... I..." He pulled me closer and I felt a violent shudder go though his long frame. One hand cupped the back of my head and he pressed my face into his chest. "I was so scared, Scully," he admitted with a bleak look on his face. I nodded and rubbed suddenly damp eyes against his cotton shirt. "I know, Mulder," I whispered. "I know. I was scared too - that's why I called you." I wrapped my arms around his neck for added balance. "But I feel so much better this morning," I assured him. "Stomach's not bothering you?" he queried anxiously. "Your head..." I shook my head and smiled when he lowered me so that my feet could once again touch the floor. "I feel good," I promised. Mulder's shoulders sagged as if a massive burden had been lifted from them and the relief was evident in the tiny smile he graced me with. He cupped my face in his hands and lowered his lips to my forehead again. He pressed a lingering kiss against my temple and then brushed two gentle, whispery kisses to my cheeks before burying his face in my neck. He crushed me in his arms and his mouth moved lightly on the sensitive skin beneath my ear. His breath both warmed my skin and tickled and I hunched my shoulders, trying to dislodge him from the crook of my neck and away from one of the most ticklish spots on my body. I felt him lift his mouth from my neck and when I rapidly turned my head in an attempt at blocking him from tickling me again, my mouth brushed over his stubbled chin. Surprised, he stared at me for a moment and then his eyes darkened. The hands on either side of my face moved and tilted my head back and he kept his eyes locked on mine as he lowered his mouth to brush over my lips - once softly and a second time with a little nip as he lightly bit my bottom lip. When his tongue darted out to tease the corner of my lips, I turned my head, blindly seeking his mouth with my own. Mulder's grip on me changed again as he tilted my head back even further and he bent nearly in half as his lips began to move over mine in a series of soft, drugging kisses. In some distant part of my mind, warning bells were ringing, but they were muted when his tongue slipped out to trace a slick path over my lips before pushing against my teeth, begging for entrance. "Mulder..." I groaned as my hands came up to clamp around his wrists. I don't know if I was trying to push him away or hold him tight but as his name slipped out of me on a long, low groan, he slid his tongue into my mouth, rubbing it lightly, teasingly against my own. In a heartbeat the kiss changed from sweetly inquisitive to greedy as I released his wrists to clutch fistfuls of his hair. I gasped when I felt him lift me onto the table and my legs fell apart naturally as he stepped between them. I used my grip on his hair to pull his face down and he moved closer to me as he shifted to keep his balance. His hands fell away from my face and I shuddered when I felt them trace patterns across the silky material of the pajama bottoms that were stretched over my thighs before he skimmed his fingertips over my hips and along my ribcage. I should send him away, I thought - as my nipples tightened in anticipation of his warm hands on my breasts. I should send him away, but I couldn't. I didn't want to. I felt more alive in the moments since he had first caught my mouth with his own than I had in months... more alive than I'd felt in years. I loved this man and I told myself that I wanted this... I needed this - just once. Just one time before I die... **************** Hours later, in my own apartment sitting slumped over my own sofa, I would shake my head in bewilderment at what happened between Scully and me in her kitchen that morning - what we almost did. I would wonder aloud at the power of desperation, any kind of desperation - and shudder again in reaction to that moment when I awakened in her bed and she was not there. I had never been so frightened in all of my life as I had been last night when I held her pale and trembling in my arms after she'd been so violently ill in her bathroom. Dry heaves - the worst. She'd had nothing left to vomit up, which in itself was scary - no water, nothing. She'd been dehydrated for God knew how long, and in her weakened condition that was especially dangerous. I didn't want to let her out of my sight, and if she hadn't asked me to stay I know I would have made it as far as just outside her door before I'd turned around and come running back in. I sat with her all night, gladly - anything to watch over her, as if by my very presence I could somehow stave off the monstrous enemy within her frail body. I guess when I woke up this morning and she wasn't right next to me, I thought it had finally gotten her. Childish thought, I know - but bone-jarring fright owes nothing to age and maturity. When I rushed into the kitchen and saw Scully standing there with nothing more life-threatening happening to her than the toasting of waffles... the relief I felt almost dropped me to my knees. I had to get my hands on her, anywhere I could reach - and assure myself that she was all right. I found her in my arms before I'd realized I'd pulled her to me; found small, tender places on her sweet face and neck to press thankful kisses... When her mouth brushed over my chin it felt like an epiphany. I pulled back to stare at her and it was as if I'd never seen her before. I gazed into her eyes and then at that rosebud mouth of hers. Suddenly, I had to have it - I had to have her mouth. I would die if I didn't take it. There was no discussion in my brain, still half-frantic with the residual worry of a few minutes before. If one tiny voice of rational thought in my head was screaming at me to give serious consideration to what I was about to do - I ignored it with unswayable purpose. Her mouth. Naturally pink and full and dewy and curved just a little at the left corner... a hint of pearly whites behind it. I wanted her mouth, more than anything I'd ever wanted in my life. More than I'd ever wanted Lilly, in the more than two years we'd been together. Later I would remember that silent confession I made to myself, and feel like a total prick for thinking that way. But this morning the lips I wanted were a breath away and I took them. I tasted the sweetness of Dana Scully and one taste was not enough. A million tastes would never be enough - I drank her in as if tomorrow would never come - and when she moaned low in her throat it unleashed so much that I'd been carrying around for so long. I bent over her small body and with no thought of the rough night she'd had, I kissed my partner with the sort of passion I'd been unknowingly carrying for her. And in that moment I understood that regardless of the amount of time we had left together, I wanted - needed - her. Scully. Only Scully. So much a part of me for so long that at times she seemed an extension of my body... so deeply entrenched in my heart that I was amazed there had ever been room for anyone else. I propped her on her kitchen table and pressed myself between her slender thighs. The heat emanating from her scorched me but I was so willing for the burn. It meant that I held a woman brimming with life in my arms. Not a sick woman - not a dying woman... but alive. Vital. Beautiful... Scully. I forgot everything I was supposed to remember as soon as I covered her mouth with my parched lips, and drank her in. My restless hands itched to touch her, everywhere; my ears strained to hear the moans and sighs coming from her throat as I curled my tongue around hers. She tasted amazing, and I was so hungry I was in physical pain from it. She felt astonishingly right in my arms and I finally let those afore-mentioned restless hands curve over her, slipping up from her silk-covered hips to burrow underneath the little pajama top, and press over her breasts. At the feel of them under my hands I groaned in harsh reaction and her answering moan was just as raw and shot down my throat, all the way to my heart. Oh, God, Scully... "Oh, God... Scully..." I was humming her name into her mouth as we kissed more passionately, clutched at each other with stronger need. She arched against my palms and her little nipples bore into my skin as I rubbed them into even harder points. Our combined breathing was harsh and loud in the silent kitchen and as I rubbed at her soft breasts again I decided I had to have the nipple; it didn't matter which for I knew by the feel of them that each one would be perfection. Left or right, it was a moot point. I wanted at least one of them... I bent her back a little roughly but my lips were gentle with each. Over the silk covering them, drawing first one and then the other into my mouth - deciding I had to have them both yet wanting to tease myself by leaving them covered for this first, urgent kiss - I took them. Heard the rough groans shivering through me and soaking into Scully as I increased the pressure... And suddenly her hands were pushing against me and over the roaring in my head I could barely make out her breathless, "Mulder, stop!" I lifted my head in sudden panic, thinking I'd hurt her in some way - and as my eyes met hers, glittering with unshed tears - what I saw in them shook me to the core. And I knew in my shocked gaze she'd seen the exact same thing... Lilly. Both of us had thought of her at almost the same time, though Scully had been quicker to react. Oh my God... With jerky movements Scully pushed at me again until I loosened my hold, and she wriggled out of my embrace and hastily scooted backwards, out of reach of my hands, which were still outstretched in her direction. She gulped in a shuddering breath and my hands dropped to my sides. I didn't know what to say; I simply stood there and stared at her - and she stared back. I couldn't help but wonder if the despair I felt in my heart was echoed on my face. Apparently so... "Oh, Mulder. What are we doing?" Scully turned away and slipped off the table to her feet, running her hands through her hair. I could see the way those hands shook. A small part of me felt instant, selfish pride at the knowledge that I'd affected her so strongly - that she'd tremble afterwards. Then that same small voice jeered at me. Of course she'd trembled, Jesus Christ! She'd been about at Death's Door just hours ago! Scully looked a hundred percent better but she was still seriously, gravely ill. And I'd given her little or no opportunity to get away from me - to decide if she'd even wanted my embrace at all. When she turned back to me I noticed the way the damp silk covering her breasts showcased each tender nipple. I'd been responsible for the condition of those sweet points; again I felt selfish pride - and as ruthlessly squashed it and pushed it down. Now was not the time - Yet, now was exactly the right time - now or never. But when I stared into Scully's remorseful eyes I knew that it had to be... never. I took a deep breath and so did she, and when I opened my mouth to speak she beat me to it. "Mulder, back at your apartment is a woman who is crazy in love with you. She's healthy and strong and she adores everything about you. She would spend the rest of her life doing everything in her power to make you happy... I on the other hand have very little life left." Her voice dropped to a rasping whisper and I shook my head so violently at her words, I swear I made the fillings in my teeth rattle. I can't hear this, I thought to myself! Please, God, don't make me hear this... I must have spoken aloud because Scully offered me the tiniest of smiles, and her voice was small and hoarse but firm. "Yes, Mulder. Yes. We both know it. Please don't waste what time is left trying to avoid it. I have had test after test. The treatments are not working, Mulder - you need to understand how serious this is. I am not getting better. Oh, I have spots of relative health, such as this morning... but it's not real - it's only temporary. Let's be honest about it, Mulder - it's not going to last." Scully blinked and the tears standing in her beautiful eyes slid down her pale face. She turned away and picked up a dishtowel hanging over the back of a kitchen chair, and buried her face in it, shoulders shaking with sobs. I rushed to her side and tried to wrap my arms around her; my heart was breaking into a thousand pieces and I could not bear the distance between us. When I touched her shoulder her muffled, "Don't..." drew me up stiffly. I waited for Scully to turn again - to face me. To face us - and what was obviously between us. My God, how could I let this go? I was only beginning to comprehend the enormity of what I felt for this woman, and I had to stop? Just stop... No! I couldn't! I tried to make her see that. "Scully... we can't pretend this didn't happen! Dammit, you felt it too!" I stood behind her without realizing I'd stepped forward, and I enclosed her in my arms, wrapping them around her middle and pressing her close. She stood like a little statue in my embrace, and her words cut into me when she spoke. "Yes, I felt it. I admit it. But there's nothing to be done about it, Mulder. You have a girlfriend. You have more than two years of your life invested in her and in your relationship with her. Even if I was healthy I would still push you away. You have chosen someone else and you need to deal fairly with her, Mulder..." Scully stepped out of my arms as she whispered the last few words to me, and she never turned around to look at me again as she walked into the bathroom. But I heard what she uttered under her breath, just before the door closed gently behind her... "I love you, Mulder..." And now, hours later - I sat on my sofa in my cold apartment and wondered how in hell I would be able to pick up and continue my relationship with Lilly when every pore in my body cried out for Dana Scully. **************** ~ Chapter Six ~ It wasn't until I heard the knock on my door - the old "Shave and a Haircut" five knocks, Fox's habitual door-pounding - that I remembered I'd left the answering machine off. When I'd arrived home early in the morning I hadn't switched on any lights, and I'd unplugged the machine as I'd shuffled by on the way to my bedroom. I'd been exhausted, but wondered if I'd even be able to sleep. I'd shed my clothes a piece at a time as I'd moved through my bedroom, dropping each item on the floor and not really caring when after I finished cleansing my face and brushing my teeth, I stepped on the trail of them on my way back to bed. I climbed in between cool sheets and curled into a little ball on my side, willing my mind to rest and let me sleep. I kept my hands tucked under my pillow to keep them from reaching for the phone on my night stand, and dialing Fox's cell number. I knew he always left it on, and I knew he'd answer it regardless of what was happening. I didn't want him to think I was needy. I didn't want him to wonder whether or not I trusted him. I couldn't bear the thought of him feeling as if he couldn't breathe... was being smothered by me. As I lay there I made myself think of Dana - what she was probably going through. If Fox never had the time to even ring me or leave a message and let me know how she was doing, to me that boded very ill for an optimistic outlook. I wondered if he'd think to call me from the hospital, for I was convinced that's where he'd taken her. She was dying, after all, and dying people usually went to the hospital. I pulled the blankets up around my chin and relaxed a little, feeling somewhat better. He'd need my strength when Dana finally passed on... he'd need the cocoon of my love, to sustain him and get him through the loss of his partner and his best friend. It never occurred to me to consider Fox spent the night anywhere but at Scully's hospital bedside. I never stopped to think that his absence from my bed that night had signified anything different than a last desperate need to hold Dana's hand as she slipped away. It seemed like hours before I was able to sleep, to shut down my over-productive brain and allow myself to rest. I woke up four hours later feeling drained and bleary, dragging myself from my bed and managing to make it over to my sofa before I sank down into a stupor again. I told myself it was natural to feel depressed at the thought of someone I knew whose life was slipping away. That it was all right for me to worry at the mental state of the man I loved, and experience empathy for him. And it felt like less than an hour later when that odd little knock of Fox's announced his presence outside my door. I had been sitting on the sofa, staring off into space and blinking every so often. Thinking, about everything and yet nothing... At the knock I jumped a little and glanced at the wall clock, which told me I'd been sitting on the sofa almost-unblinking for well over two hours. I roused myself from my zombie-like state and moved to the door, opening it wide and taking in the sight of a wrinkled, bone-tired and incredibly appealing Fox Mulder leaning against my door frame. I stared into his eyes, red-rimmed and sad as I had never seen them look before; I reached out a hand to him and pulled him inside, into my arms. His own arms were slow to embrace me, but I understood. My God... he was grieving; he must have been with her when she... My poor Fox. He'd just lost his partner and his best friend - then he'd come to me in his need and I was honored to be there for him - "Oh, Fox. I'm so sorry. So sorry. Was it... did she... oh, Lord. Did Dana suffer? I pray she didn't suffer." I felt him stiffen slightly against me as he digested my halting words of comfort, and then he pulled back a little to peer into my face with a look of confusion on his. "Wha -? Lilly... Scully is fine, much better today than last night. It was touch and go for a bit, but she managed to sleep some and when she awoke this morning she had improved greatly." The shine of quiet joy in his hazel eyes was unmistakable, and I found myself pinning a smile on my face as I replied. "Fox, that's... I'm glad. Very glad to hear it." And I was, I told myself. Of course I was glad. With another smile sent in his direction, this one brighter, I stepped away from his arms when he released me and turned to shut the door and I led him into the living room where he collapsed wearily on my sofa. I perched on the cushioned arm next to him and stroked the mussed hair off his forehead as he leaned his head back and sighed. He did look exhausted, I thought. It had obviously been a long night for him. I had so many questions to ask him, beginning with an explanation of his absence all night and most of today. I parted my lips to speak but thought better of it - and waited for him to tell me. "I tried to talk Scully into going to the hospital but she was so sick from the treatment she'd received; she begged me not to make her go. She fainted a couple of times on me - I was so worried about her. I couldn't help her, Lilly - she was vomiting and passing out and in terrible pain and there wasn't a thing I could do for her except hold her and pray she'd make it through. And she did, thank Christ - she made it. I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost her, last night." I made sympathetic noises while Fox talked, and tried not to feel jealous when the tears filling his eyes spilled over and ran down his cheeks. And even as I lambasted myself for such rotten, selfish thoughts - I was thinking back on over two years of giving my all to this man and trying to remember if Fox had ever cried for me. Of course, he never had - because I'd never given him a reason to cry. I was just his healthy girlfriend... Dana Scully was his terminally-ill partner. Damn - there I went, again. Jealousy was an ugly emotion and did not become me. Once more I reminded myself that I had everything wonderful and good in my life, and Dana was nearing the end of hers. Regardless of her improvement last night the fact of her inoperable tumor still remained. Her days were numbered... A few seconds after thinking that uncharitable thought, I immediately chastised myself in self-loathing. God, I was so low... what was the matter with me! Yes, I was a woman in love, and insecure about the place I held in my lover's life. But that was no excuse for the sway of my thoughts. I cussed myself out so thoroughly in my mind that I failed to hear Fox's next remark. "I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to call you, Lilly. I know you were worried. By the time Scully finally fell asleep, it was so late... I assumed you'd probably be asleep and I would have hated to wake you." I gazed into his eyes; they were genuinely contrite. Relieved, I moved closer to Fox and he wrapped an arm around me and hugged me close. I sighed into his neck, leaning against his comforting warmth and soaking up the sheer joy of being close to him. God, I loved this man so much -! How I wished I'd been allowed to stay with him last night when he'd had to tend to Dana. I lifted my face from his neck and he bent down to kiss me, the caress of his lips so gentle and sweet. I smiled up at him when he released my mouth. "So, did you sit up all night, keeping watch over Dana?" It would be just like Fox to sacrifice sleep for his best friend, I thought - and it would explain the traces of utter exhaustion I could still detect in his eyes. He didn't answer right away - and my smile slipped a little when I saw a pink flush steal over his handsome face. My eyes narrowed; was that a... blush? I looked closer, noting the pink getting rosier as it centered high on each of his cheeks. It WAS a blush... Fox was blushing and acting flustered. And he wasn't looking me directly in the eyes - or answering my question. I sat up a little straighter, and stared at the pinkened face of the man I adored - and I couldn't help but wonder... Just where the hell HAD Fox slept - at Dana's, last night? ***************** I didn't get any sleep. I couldn't relax enough to get drowsy enough to bypass my thoughts, enough to sleep... I lay in the darkness with Lilly beside me, and I thought of another woman, all night. What sort of a bastard did that make me, I wondered? Lilly wanted to know more about the other night than I was willing to say. I found myself being secretive, and rather lousy at it since I'd really never had to hide anything from a woman before. This was the sort of thing you told your best friend... except my best friend was rapidly becoming something much more than just a friend. And my feelings were compounding the predicament - and I am sure Lilly could tell something was amiss. I told myself I was still a relatively free agent - that I had never lied to Lilly or given her any false hopes. And I hadn't - I had been honest with her, all this time. But that didn't make me feel any better. I had managed to deflect most of Lilly's curiosity and I hadn't liked doing that to her - but I could barely stand to think of how confused I was feeling, much less hold a discussion with my girlfriend centering around wildly unpredictable feelings for my partner. A conversation like that would have gone very bad, very quickly... I did the only thing I could think of doing, to stop the questions and reassure Lilly - and perhaps, myself - that all was as well as it could be. I took her into my arms, there on her sofa - and I kissed her gently. Softly - carefully. As lovingly as I could, for of course I knew she needed to feel loved. Don't we all... Trouble was, I couldn't decide how much of what I felt for her was affection and how much was an attempt to create romantic love between us. Those lines, unclear at best these past two years, had become hopelessly blurred in just a few minutes - those few minutes I'd spent with Scully in my arms. But I tried to put that behind me, I really did. In the few seconds before I embraced Lilly, I thought about my options, and tried to imagine I was not being a selfish prick for doing so. I kept chanting to myself, 'Normal life, normal life...' as if it would be some sort of magical mantra for me. I saw before me a lovely woman who had fallen in love with me and was just waiting for a decision from me. She would not push me, but her very attitude could unknowingly send me in one direction or another - because I felt such deep affection for her and the last thing I wanted to do was cause her pain. She wanted to make a future with me - perhaps babies, as well - and I was willing to throw it all away because I didn't love her - at least, not yet. When I was younger I'd often wondered just how long it would take me to fall wildly in love with someone. I don't doubt that 'love at first sight' truly does exist for some people. I imagined I would fall somewhere in between the instant variety and longevity... two years, to be exact. I had to face facts: if I'd been meant to fall in love with Lilly it would have happened by now. And although I couldn't deny my feelings for her, I likewise couldn't ignore the pain of knowing I was going to lose Scully, just when I had discovered her. But Scully would not let me have her. Not when her future was so shaky - when she had all but given up on finding a way to prolong her life. Meanwhile, I faced the woman with whom I'd spent the last couple of years, and knew she deserved far more than I'd been inclined to give her. But I would never know for sure about a future with her unless I was willing to try. So, I held Lilly and kissed her, feeling the warmth and affection I always felt when I held her; enjoying her delicate perfume and the feel of her silky hair under my hand. Familiar and dear to me, after two years of being with her... of course it felt good. I liked the way her fingers pressed against my nape and the little sighs she breathed into my mouth as we kissed more passionately. I slid down into the sofa cushions and urged her down next to me. I wanted to show Lilly how I felt - I needed to let her know that my affection for her ran deep. Affection. That's what it was, that's all I needed. This I told myself as I slipped my hands underneath her sweater and caressed her breasts. Soft, sweet breasts, rounded and full. So much different than - Shit! Don't do this; don't go there, Asshole! I closed my eyes and concentrated on the lovely woman in my arms; the one who deserved all my focus. I could give her this, I thought - as I touched her and caressed her and felt the way her breathing hitched and heard her sighs. I could give Lilly my focus and my caring and maybe - just maybe - it would be enough. Making love to Lilly had always been such a tender experience; she was giving and generous and always made me feel very good. I liked being the center of her world, even though I sometimes felt guilt at not being able to return the level of love she directed at me. I had never worried overmuch, when we made love, if my emotions were not as minutely engaged. I always figured it would come, that magical day when I would look into her eyes and know I'd found my soul-mate. I always hoped such a moment would happen for me... But I'd assumed it would happen with Lilly. And it hadn't... and I think she knew it. But I tried, I really did - and she let me try. She responded to my kisses and my caresses and when I removed her clothes she smiled at me with warm eyes and kissed me when I slipped into her body. I think she knew I wasn't completely with her, though - at about the same moment I realized it too. When I looked into her eyes as I sank slowly within her; as I wound my fingers into her hair and for several tell-tale moments I imagined my hands were winnowed into red locks, instead of brown. When for more long seconds I stared into eyes that I tricked myself into believing were blue... and as I thrust I fought the image floating before my tightly-closed lids because in all my adult life I had never made love to one woman while thinking of another... Not until now. God, not until this moment. Later I lay next to her and stared up at the ceiling and wondered if she'd suspected that I'd had Scully in my mind even as I'd held Lilly next to my pounding heart and underneath my driving body. That it had been Scully's face I'd seen when I'd shuddered in the throes of my climax; Scully's name I'd bit back from shouting. That I felt like an utter shit for making love to one woman while I was dying inside for another - I could never let her know. The guilt would kill me and cause her so much pain - I would never tell her. I would find a way to live with the guilt I already felt; my punishment for what I saw as a betrayal. I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep - and waited for morning. ******************* end of chapter six ******************** ~ Chapter Seven ~ Realizing I was in love with Mulder didn't mean that he didn't still have the ability to drive me crazy. The ringing phone in the pre-dawn hours had startled me out of a deep sleep. I was in a panic as I called the airline and booked myself on the next flight. I pulled on a pair of white jeans and shrugged into a blazer as I grabbed my keys and ran out of my apartment. What the hell was Mulder doing in Rhode Island? I had wondered this for what had to be the hundredth time as I squinted at the map I'd picked up at the car rental counter. Had he and Lillian gone away for the weekend together? That thought brought with it a flare of jealousy that I hastily sought to shrug off. I had been the one to bring a halt to our embrace a few weeks ago. I had sent him back home to Lillian. I blinked back an unwelcome tear as I reminded myself that it was for the best. I had more pressing matters on my mind at the moment, namely why Mulder was holed up in a motel in Rhode Island. Why hadn't he told me where he was going? The truth was that Mulder and I had been very awkward around each other ever since the kisses we shared in my kitchen. I didn't know what had been going through his mind after that morning, but I know that my emotions had been off-kilter ever since. I jumped wildly from silly daydreams centered around the memory of his mouth on my breasts - to jealousy at the thought of him doing the same thing with Lillian - to a deep, black anger. Of late, that had been the most overwhelming emotion. I was angry at the world. Angry at my cancer; angry with my doctors for not being able to find a way to save me; angry that I had realized I was in love with Mulder at a time when there was no hope for us; angry with Mulder for kissing me and touching me and confusing me. What did he feel for me? Love? Pity? When we returned home from Rhode Island, my anger soared to new heights. Now that Mulder was safe, the reality of what he'd done scared me to death. Allowing someone to drill a hole in his head and then drug him... what had he been thinking? Trembling, I picked up the phone to call him. "Are you alone?" I asked when he answered the phone. His voice was groggy and I knew I had awakened him. At the sound of my voice, he was instantly alert. "Scully? What's wrong?" I could hear the sheets rustle as he sat up in bed. I was hoping he was alone, but even if Lillian was there, I was determined to speak with him. "I'm fine, Mulder," I told him. "I just wanted to talk to you." I tucked the phone under my chin and yanked a sweater from the back of my sofa on my way out of my apartment. "I'm coming over," I warned him. "Scully, wait!" Mulder said, confusion evident in his voice. "Why are you coming over to my apartment at - " There was a pause and I pictured him squinting at the glowing red numbers of the digital clock next to his bed. "Two o'clock in the morning?" he finished. "Are you sure you're okay?" I could hear the mounting concern in the tone of his voice. "Maybe I should come over to your place instead," he suggested. I was shaking my head as I slid the key into the lock of my car door. "Mulder, I'm already on my way," I told him. There was no need for him to know I was still parked outside of my building. I didn't want to have this conversation at my apartment surrounded by pill bottles and thermometers and all of the other paraphernalia of the sick. I was still enjoying a longer than usual spell of good health and I wanted Mulder to see me as the strong woman who had been his partner for almost five years. He had obviously been watching the window for my arrival because he opened his apartment door just as I was stepping out of the elevator. He held the door wide open and I slipped under his arm. He closed the door and turned to face me. "Do you want anything to drink?" he asked. I shook my head and saw the way his eyes searched my face for some clue as to why I had felt it necessary to wake him up and drive all the way over to his apartment in the middle of the night. Face-to-face with him, I wasn't quite sure how to begin. "No, thank you," I said as I slowly pulled my sweater off. I sat down on the sofa, perched on the edge of the leather cushion and smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from the soft cotton of the sweater draped across my knees. "Is Lillian here?" I asked again, stalling as I looked up at him. Mulder dropped down onto the other end of the sofa and rubbed his hands over his face. "I know you didn't drive all the way over here at two AM just to find out whether or not Lillian is here," he said tiredly as he rolled his head against the back of the sofa to face me. I sighed and nodded. "No," I said quietly. "I didn't." He was watching me with an expectant look on his face and I took a deep breath. "Why did you go to Rhode Island without telling me?" I asked point-blank. Mulder closed his eyes and shook his head. "We've already had this discussion," he sighed. I bit back a sarcastic laugh as I remembered our supposed 'discussion' on the short flight back to DC. "Yeah. You said you didn't remember. And then you went to sleep," I added, recalling the way he had shifted his head and shoulders away from me in the cramped seats of the airplane, effectively shutting me out and blocking any further attempts at continuing the conversation. Mulder nodded again and opened his eyes. "That's right," he agreed. "I told you that the last thing I remembered was talking to you on Friday night. The next thing I knew, it was Sunday morning and I was calling you." I pursed my lips and scratched my nails over the buttons marching down the front of my sweater. "But you've had some time to think about it," I pressed. "So, do you remember now why you went without telling me?" I looked up but he refused to meet my eyes. "God, Scully," he mumbled, throwing his arm over his face. "It was a personal matter." I ran my tongue over my lips and considered his answer. "Personal," I repeated. He nodded from behind the arm shielding his face. I let the silence grow until he peeked out from behind his arm. He glanced at the disbelieving look on my face and scowled. "Scully, let it go already," he suggested in a low voice. I shook my head and continued to study him silently. Mulder ground his teeth together and glared at me from across the divide of the sofa. "I told you, it was - " "Personal," I interjected flatly. He nodded again, now clearly impatient. I raised my brows and settled back against the sofa. Mulder took note of the body language that told him that I wasn't planning on leaving until I got an answer that satisfied me. Scowling again, Mulder sat up straighter. "Fine," he said, throwing his hands up into the air. "I didn't tell you because I knew you would insist on going with me and I thought you should stay at home and rest!" He stood up and planted both hands on his hips in an 'are you happy now' stance. I blinked at him once and returned my gaze to the fascinating study of the knit of my sweater. "Well, that plan worked really well," I said sarcastically. "Tell me, Mulder. Were you thinking of me when you were letting Dr. Goldstein drill holes in your head?" I began harshly. "What part of you thought it would be a good idea to let him inject you with a tranquilizer intended for ANIMALS?" I asked, my voice rising into a near-shout. I took a deep breath and tried to rein in my temper. "Jesus," he breathed angrily. "You know, believe it or not, this had nothing to do with you!" he said harshly. "It was about me! My family! My sister!" I nodded and closed my eyes as I gathered my thoughts. "Yes, Mulder. I know that. But you just sat here and told me you specifically didn't let me know of your plans because you thought my health would be better served by staying home and resting," I pointed out. "So, what I'm asking you is - at what point during the whole head-drilling-tranquilizer-taking procedure did you think that you wouldn't need me?" I crossed my arms over my chest and waited for his response. "I..." His mouth opened and closed futilely as he tried to come up with a response. I tilted my head to the side and pressed on. "I'm still your partner - aren't I?" I asked calmly, striving for a rational tone. Mulder pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and I watched him visibly force back his anger as he nodded tersely. My head bobbed up and down as I continued to push my point at him. "You went up there alone because you knew I wouldn't approve," I said and paused again for his response. He continued to knead his forehead with his fingertips and once again a brief nod was his only reply. "But in the back of your mind, you were counting on me to come up there if you needed me," I ventured, knowing I was right. Mulder heaved out a long sigh and opened his eyes. "Yes," he was grudging as his eyes locked onto mine briefly before skittering away. "I knew you would come if I needed you," he told me. Then it was my turn to close my eyes and sigh. I leaned forward and clasped my hands between my legs. "Mulder," I began softly. "You can't keep taking these chances with your life. I'm not always going to be here to save you," I reminded him. He sucked in a deep breath and his head snapped back in shock. "Dammit," he hissed before stalking into the kitchen. I knew he hated discussing the implications of my failing health. In fact, I'd decided to spare him the results of my last appointment with my oncologist who believed it was only a matter of time before the cancer would metastasize... that there was, in fact, very little hope. But I had to make Mulder understand that he couldn't keep inviting trouble the way he has done throughout the course of our partnership. That unless he had a death wish, he couldn't keep putting his life on the line the way he had done a few days ago. I bit my lip as a sudden, unwelcome thought flashed through my head. I stood and followed him into the kitchen. "Mulder," I called in a soft voice. He had his hands braced on the counter and his head hung down to his chest. I walked slowly across the yellowed linoleum to lay my hand between his shoulders. He flinched at my touch and didn't lift his head. I stroked my hand over the column of his spine as I spoke. "You went back to Dr. Goldstein a second time," I said as I slowly picked my way through the jumble of terrifying thoughts crowding my head. "Even though I had already told you that the treatments could kill you... even though as a result of the treatments you couldn't remember the events of more than the prior twenty-four hours. I watched you rolling around in agony..." I choked on the memory of Mulder clutching his head in pain and my fingers tightened on his back. "You let Dr. Goldstein treat you again, even though you knew that Amy Cassandra died as a direct result of her exposure to the Ketamine." I worried my bottom lip between my teeth as I forced out the last of my thoughts. "When I found you at the summer house, swaying... with that gun pointed at your head..." I pushed my face down next to his, trying to force him to look at me. "Mulder," I swallowed harshly before continuing. "Mulder, you don't have a death wish... do you?" I asked - hating the timid tone in my voice but deathly afraid of his answer. Mulder turned his face toward mine and I was chilled by the bleak look I saw in his eyes. It was only evident for a moment and then his eyes cleared, but his smile was forced when he replied. "Scully, I won't leave you. Don't worry about me." I opened my mouth to argue further, realizing immediately that he'd avoided my real question. I was worried about what would happen to him after I was gone. Who would take care of him? Who would watch his back? I was still angry at the idea of his treating his life so cavalierly that he would allow such brutal experimentation in his search for the truth as he saw it. Who would talk sense into him when I am no longer here to do it? I suspected Mulder had kept this part of his life separate from the life he shared with Lillian. To this day, I don't know how much she understood about our work and Mulder's quest and the constant threat to our lives. Mulder pushed away from the counter and straightened his back, drawing himself up to his full height. His eyes were shuttered and I knew he had closed himself off to further discussion of the matter. I reached out with one hand and he caught it in his own, pulling me out of the kitchen behind him. He led me back to the sofa and I thought I'd been wrong - maybe he was willing to discuss it further. Instead, he leaned forward and lifted my sweater from the sofa cushion. Releasing my hand, he held the sweater up so that I could slip my arms into the sleeves. "Mulder," I protested, but he only shook his head and concentrated on fastening the top button. He looked up and I watched his eyes rove over my face for a moment before he spoke. "It's late," he said in low, rumbling voice. "And you should be home sleeping," he chided as he led me toward the door. "Shall I drive you home?" I hung my head for a moment, resigned to the fact that I wasn't going to get any more answers out of him tonight. "No," I said softly as I lifted my keys from the table near the front door. "I'll be fine," I promised. He nodded and followed me out into the hallway. We waited for the elevator in silence. Mulder walked me several yards down the street to where my car was parked and waited until I was settled behind the steering wheel before turning back toward his apartment building. I pulled out of my parking space and brought the car to a halt when I drew near the entrance to his building. His face was hidden in the shadows and I felt a wrenching pain around my heart. Standing in the darkened doorway, he looked so alone as he lifted his hand in farewell. I couldn't bear to leave him there... where would I find the strength to let go when the time came? ********** More than two weeks had passed since the last time Fox and I had made love. Although his touches had brought me so much pleasure, I sensed he wasn't completely with me... that he had left a part of himself back at Dana's. Something was off and I couldn't put my finger on it. Afterwards, he held me so gently in his arms and whispered beautiful nonsense into my ears, but I'd felt the first truly visible crack had appeared in the foundation of our relationship that evening. Fox had to leave town almost immediately after that. He said something about Alaska and the Yukon Territory in a hurried telephone conversation as he explained that he would call me when he returned home. I had received two short e-mails from him during his absence and I took heart in the knowledge that he knew I was worried and that he had made an effort to allay those fears. When I returned from lunch this afternoon I found a voice mail message from him. I waited all night for some further word from him but he never called. Tired of waiting for him to come to me, I decided to drive over to see him. If he was already asleep, I would simply curl up beside him and we could talk in the morning. If he was awake and willing to talk, I was determined to find out where we stood. I knew that it would be selfish of me to demand he stop spending time with Dana. They needed each other, now more than ever. But I needed to know how he felt about me. I thought perhaps if I'd felt like I was on firmer ground with regards to my place in his life, it would be easier for me to be charitable about the time he spent with her. I hated the feelings of shame and guilt that swept over me every time I thought of how much easier and more stable my life would be when she no longer needed him. But most of all, I needed to know I wouldn't be competing with a ghost when the time came for him to say goodbye. I parked on the street and thumbed the remote control dangling from my key chain to arm the car alarm. I was fumbling for the key to his apartment in my purse as I hurried down the street toward his building. I looked up to see Fox run out of the front door and turn in the other direction. "Fox!" I shouted. He didn't respond and I broke into a run. "Fox! Wait!" I called as I dashed after him. His long, loping stride faltered and as he spun toward the sound of my voice I stopped dead in my tracks, shocked by the light from the street lamp glinting off the barrel of the gun he held in his right hand. I'd never seen his gun out of its holster before. He was at my side in seconds and I felt the cold steel of the gun against my back as he yanked me into his arms. "Lilly! God! What are you doing here?" he asked. His voice was rough and I could feel his heart pounding against the wall of his chest. His manner was frightening and I pushed out of his embrace to look into his face. What I saw there shocked me even more than the sight of the gun that seemed to fit so comfortably in his hand. His eyes were feral... murderous - and for the very first time since I had met him, I realized I was looking at Mulder... Not my Fox, but Dana Scully's Mulder. "What is it?" I cried out and the fear choking me must have been evident. His face softened fractionally and I could feel the man I knew as Fox, in the hand that stroked roughly through my hair. "Nothing... everything," he muttered distractedly as he clasped my hand and dragged me back to my car by my hand. I stumbled along behind and he took the keys from my other hand and disarmed the alarm before swinging the door open. I dug my heels into the pavement as he tried to muscle me into the car. "Fox! Stop it!" I gasped as I grabbed him by the forearms. "Please, tell me what's wrong." My breath was coming in rapid pants and I looked at him pleadingly. He heaved out a sigh and cupped my face in his hands. Beneath the rage simmering in his eyes, I saw a look of desolation so deep that my first instinct was to assume that Dana had passed away. But the gun in his hand and the angry ticking along his jaw line told me otherwise. "Everything is going to be okay," he told me. I swallowed hard at the implication that everything was not okay now. He dipped his head to position his eyes on a level with mine; his voice brooked no argument. "I want you to go home," he said and he stroked his thumbs over my cheeks. "Go home and lock your doors and windows and don't answer the door for anyone but me," he ordered. "On second thought," he continued, "I'd feel better if you went to stay with your grandmother." I could feel the blood draining from my head and I must have swayed slightly because his hands dropped from my face to my shoulders. "Lilly!" His voice was urgent, hands tightening their grip on me. I shook my head to clear it and nodded to let him know I was all right. "What is it?" I whispered. "Are you in danger?" My lip quivered and I bit down on it to stop the betraying tremble. Fox leaned close and brushed his lips over mine softly. "I'll be fine," he said. "And so will you, Lilly." His hands slipped back up to tunnel into my hair. "This is just a precaution. I'll call you as soon as I can," he promised. His lips met mine again and this time his kiss was warm and lingering. "Go, Lilly," he whispered against my mouth. I nodded and checked back the tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks. I sank down behind the steering wheel and Fox watched while I fastened my seat-belt. "Please be careful," I begged as I turned my face up to his. He nodded and braced his hand on the door as he bent close to me again. "Are you okay to drive yourself?" he asked and his lips quirked up in a tiny smile when I nodded resolutely. "Okay." He straightened. "Drive carefully, Lilly. And remember what I told you." I nodded, frightened anew at his ominous warning. His smile comforted me. "I'll call you," he said as he pushed the car door closed. I willed my hands to stop shaking as I twisted the key in the Ignition. When the car rumbled to life, Fox stepped back from the curb. As I drove down the street, I watched in my rearview mirror as he began to lope toward his car again and I shuddered anew when I once again saw the light playing off his gun. Hours later, the sun was peeking through the blinds as I sat in the rocking chair in my old bedroom and idly picked at the threads of the afghan I had thrown over my legs. Fox's warning tone had frightened me, enough to cause me to drive directly to Gran's from his apartment. I had called her from my cell phone to let her know I was on my way and she was in the kitchen laying out the teacups and a plate of cookies when I arrived. There wasn't much for me to tell her as Fox had not been very forthcoming about what was going on but sipping tea in Gran's cozy, warm kitchen was comforting. When I caught Gran fighting back a yawn, I insisted that we try to get some sleep. I could hear her rhythmic breathing coming from the room next to mine where she slept, but I was too nervous to join her in slumber. When my cell phone trilled, I pounced on it. "Hello?" I asked breathlessly. I closed my eyes with relief when I heard Fox's voice over the line. "Lilly?" he asked. "Are you okay?" I pulled my feet up onto the chair and drew the afghan up to my chin, reveling in the loving concern evident in his voice. "I'm fine," I reassured him. "I took your advice and went to Gran's." I paused for a moment before continuing. "Fox, what about you? Are you all right?" I could hear the sound of traffic in the background and I knew he was calling me from his car. "Where are you?" I asked. "Can you come over here so that we can talk?" There was a long silence and I knew the answer before he spoke. "I can't Lilly," he said and the regret in his voice was genuine. "There's so many things going on... things that I can't explain right now." "Try me Fox," I implored. "I'm a good listener." I was mentally pleading for him to come to me but I knew from the tone of his voice that he wouldn't be coming. "Oh sweetheart," he sighed. "I know you are. Listen, I need you to trust me until this is over. Can you do that?" he asked solemnly. Inanely I nodded as if he could somehow see the gesture through the phone, and was startled when he called my name impatiently. "Lilly?" "Fox, yes of course I trust you." I wanted so badly to know what was going on. "Good," he said. "I can't tell you everything right now, but what I can tell you is that Scully and I have cause to believe that her cancer was given to her by some of the people that we have been investigating for the last few years," he told me. I pulled the phone away from me ear and looked at it in shock. What? "Fox, that's... that's... crazy," I spluttered. "No one gives you cancer!" I protested. "And besides why would anyone do that?" I was afraid that grief had caused him to become delusional about Dana's condition. "Oh, Lilly," he said so softly that I almost didn't hear him at first. "There is so much evil in this world, so many horrors... you can't even imagine," he murmured. "But Scully and I - we've seen this evil firsthand many times." I didn't know what to say to that. I knew he was right. I'd seen the bleak look in his eyes many times when he and Dana had returned home after investigating a case. Sometimes it took days for him to decompress. "...go away for a few days." Blinking, I pulled myself back to the present and the conversation I was holding with Fox. "If someone was capable of making Scully this sick, then someone has to be able to cure her as well," he said. I ran my hand over my face, trying to figure out what he was telling me. "Wait," I said. "Wait. Fox, did you say you were going away?" This conversation was making me dizzy - I was having a terrible time trying to wrap my brain around it as Fox leapt from one crazy topic to another. "Lilly," he asked. "Do you have any vacation time coming up?" My heart was pounding as he asked, but I couldn't figure out what he was up to. "Yes, Fox. I have plenty of time left for the year," I told him. "Good," he said. I need your help." Over the next fifteen minutes Fox laid out an insane plan... pretending to be dead so that he could search for the men he believed had given Dana her terrible disease. To assure the plan's success, though, I had to pretend he was dead as well, which meant taking a couple of days off from work. No one would believe that I would go into the office if Fox were dead. "It might have been better if I didn't tell you about this plan," Fox said cautiously. "But I didn't want you to hear that I was dead. I couldn't do that to you." Confused, I tried to get him to promise to call me so I would know that he WAS alive and only pretending to be dead. "I'll try," he said quietly. "I can't guarantee that I'll call you directly though. I promise I'll get word to you somehow," he vowed. Before I knew it, I was agreeing to his plan. When Fox disconnected the call, I set my phone down and looked across the room at the bed in the corner and I knew that a good night's sleep wouldn't be possible... not until I knew Fox was safe. ************************** In retrospect I suppose my actions the previous day had been reminiscent of the worst sort of madman - but at the time I was too panicked to give much of a shit. I laid my head down on the pillow in the silent and darkened hospital room and watched Scully slumber, knowing it would be a long night and not caring because it was the only place I wanted to be, right now. Yesterday - I would call it "Hospital Visit Number One", I had torn through the parking lot like that afore-mentioned madman, almost wiping myself out on several parked cars, before slamming to a stop in a space reserved for 'Medical Staff'. If my car got towed, who the fuck cared? I was so frightened... Not bothering with the elevator I'd taken the stairs two at a time and burst through the double doors, ignoring the stares of shock as a few fellow agents who'd thought I was dead reacted to seeing me very much alive. Of course they tried to stop me from seeing my partner - and I let them succeed, that first time. I didn't want to add to Scully's already over-stressed situation by acting like a pathetic jerk in front of her doctors and colleagues; even though I did resemble one, much of the time. I let Skinner and two other agents take me out of there, figuring I'd get my chance to come back and see her. But the glimpse I got of my partner in ICU... well, it about killed me. Everything I knew about my feelings for Scully, and a few of the clouded issues about which I'd been unsteady - all of it came into sharp focus when I sat with her much later the next night, holding her hand and communing with her on more than a verbal level. At first Scully had wanted me to go home and get some rest. As if, Partner... "Mulder, come on. Those dark circles under your eyes now extend all the way to your nostrils. I am not even going to ask you when you slept last. Please, go home and do that little thing, okay? I'll be fine. Mom's coming back and she'll stay with me. Bill may also come back later, although I'd almost rather he stay away." Scully's eyes were as dark-ringed as I knew mine had to be; she was pale to the point of being translucent and her voice came out on a soft, blurred thread of sound - but I had never seen a more beautiful sight in my life. Life pulsed under the delicate skin of the hand I held clasped in both of mine, and that's what mattered now. I didn't want to leave her - I was the only person in her sphere right now who believed she would beat this, somehow - would live. As much respect as I had for her mother, Maggie Scully seemed ready to commit her daughter into the hands of Heaven - and so did brother Bill. Scully didn't need that sort of defeatist attitude right now. "Scully, I'm not going anywhere. I have a blank dance-card and that's how it's gonna stay. I'll share your Jell-O and apple juice dinner and we'll watch the tube a bit, and if you're really lucky - or unlucky, depending on your musical tastes - I'll even sing you a lullabye..." Her tired snicker and mumble of protest made me grin like a baboon. "Ooo, lucky me, indeed, Mulder. Seriously," her eyes were fighting the urge to droop as she stared at me, "I know you must have things to do, people to see - when was the last time you spoke to Lillian? Does she know what's been going on, lately?" I returned her sleepy gaze with one purposely vague, and tried not to lie to Scully as I avoided telling her everything. "I've told her a little. I asked her to assist in the 'game' by taking a day or two off from work and pretend to mourn me. I suppose you could say I implicated her in our deception. But I didn't give her any information other than that, Scully." At the sad shaking of her head, I broke off and wisely shut up. Scully laid a hand over mine as it rested on the blanket next to her, and in her voice I heard a new note of worry and concern. "Mulder, you were right to keep the bulk of this from her, but she has to be worried out of her mind about you. I know I'd be, if it were me. Why don't you just go home and spend some time with her? I told you, Mom will be here." Scully pressed my hand, then placed her palm against my chest and tried to give me a little incentive push. It was about as effective as a gnat trying to push Mt. McKinley - I was not budging. I covered her pushing hand with mine to still it, and felt the way her fingers trembled a little under mine. My voice came out on a determined rush. "I'm NOT going. I'm not letting your mother and your brother Bill hang out here tonight and go tearing off down the hall for the priest every time your vitals fluctuate as the result of you burping up Jell-O. Forget it. They can camp out here another time, okay?" I reinforced my decision by moving from the bedside chair to the edge of her bed, settling myself comfortably next to her and maneuvering her gently until she lay nestled in one arm, head leaning back into my shoulder. If I lowered my cheek I could rest it against her soft hair, and I did just that, briefly, before reaching for the remote with my free hand and clicking on 'Lifetime'. Scully's snort of disbelief sounded so blessedly normal and Scully-ish that for a moment I could forget that we weren't sitting on her sofa together, or in my apartment on my lumpy excuse for a piece of furniture. "'Lifetime', Mulder? Now I know you're coddling me - you hate this channel." I grinned and dropped a careful kiss into her hair, and felt her lean and relax until I was bearing her full weight in my arms. In the dimness of her hospital room we watched TV and as far as I was concerned it was any other night in the life of Mulder and Scully. ************************* I exited the elevator on Dana's floor and walked slowly down the silent corridor, peeking into open doors and tiptoeing past rooms that held sleeping patients. I knew the general vicinity of her room, and I knew when I got there I would most likely find Fox as well. I hadn't seen much of him lately, and of course I understood why. Dana was getting worse. Whatever treatment she was receiving must not have been working very well, because although Fox spoke of her progress in positive terms, I could see the truth in his eyes. Those clear hazel eyes... they didn't hide much. I had been looking into them for over two years - I felt I knew them. I saw sadness and worry and the imminent knowledge of loss, and my heart ached for the man I loved because he was going to lose someone he cared about. And I felt sadness, too - for the waste of a young, vital life to the insidious monster called cancer. I let some time go by before I decided to visit Dana, knowing that she needed her rest and figuring that Fox would comfort her the most. I tried not to mind the hours he spent at her bedside, but I worried for his health. He wasn't eating much and I knew he wasn't sleeping well either. Fox had lost weight and his exhaustion was evident. I was worried but I accepted the fact that he would have to work this out by himself. I could only be there for him when he needed someone to talk to. I had to work late but hoped that Dana would still be awake, and that the nurses wouldn't mind another visitor. I also hoped to persuade Fox to come home with me and try to eat something and maybe even get some sleep. After searching a few minutes I found the right corridor and headed for Room 357H, getting a better grip on the balloons in my hand as I felt the strap of my purse slip off my shoulder. I looked up at the balloons, glad to have bought them instead of yet another flower arrangement which Fox had assured me already overflowed Dana's room. But he added that no one had thought of balloons, and these were particularly charming. One in the shape of a colorful butterfly and the other a dramatic dragonfly, I thought they might make Dana smile. Rounding Corridor H east, I easily spotted Dana's room and moved to the doorway. I could hear the murmur of voices... With a smile on my face I started to walk in - and then stopped dead in my tracks, just outside the half-open door, in the shadows where the occupants of that room would not see me. In a dim corner of my mind I registered my hand opening and letting go of the balloons; I suppose they must have drifted to the ceiling to hover, the way butterflies and dragonflies were meant to. I couldn't look up to see; my stare was riveted to the tableau inside the hospital room. The bed was indeed surrounded by flowers, sitting on the night stands and even on the rollaway table next to where Fox was sitting. On the bed, where he was sitting - holding Dana in his arms. Her head was on his shoulder and turned just enough for me to see fully into her face, although from this angle Fox's lowered head would not allow me to see his face as well. And I was glad I could not... for the expression I saw, there on Dana, was enough. In the soft light of her hospital room Dana's eyes were lifted to Fox and it was obvious to me she was staring deeply into his own. Even from here I could see the love burning there; it was so blatant. One of her thin, pale hands rested on the arm wrapped around her and I watched as if in a daze as his long fingers stroked through her red hair. Gently... carefully. Even from the doorway I could see how careful he was, how reverent. The soft voices floating over to me were too low to make out any specific words, but I saw Dana nod, and smile up into the face of the man I loved - The man she loved. My God, it was all there for me to see; how could I have been so obtuse? I could only hazard a guess as to how long she'd loved him, in ways other than a friend. I reckoned quite a while, for the depth of emotion I saw in her shining eyes had to have been growing for more than just a few weeks, or months. Dana was in love with Fox, and suddenly it did not matter whether or not she was gravely ill - because the hand moving over her hair was the most loving hand I had ever witnessed. I could see it from here - I could feel it as well. I knew the capacity of those hands; I had been the lucky recipient of their tenderness for these past few years. But this was different. This was much more than one friend comforting and aiding another; this was more than partners huddling together and reminiscing about their grand times. These two people adored each other; it was there in his fingers and in her eyes. I cursed myself for being a blind fool, as my vision blurred and the tears ran hot and scalding down my cheeks. I felt fright such as I have never felt before in my life - fright and panic that I was losing Fox, the overwhelming anxiety of it all wrapped up into a lump that settled within my throat and threatened to suffocate me. I could not breathe; I spun on a heel and ran down the silent corridor, somehow inanely remembering to run on my tiptoes so that my heels would not clack and alert anyone to my presence. I did not want Fox to know what I had seen - I could not let Dana witness my ravaged face. A woman would read another so well, at a time like this; it was what we women did. I ran to the elevator and jumped on, blindly pushing at buttons until I found the one that closed the doors. As it began to move I slumped against the far wall and slid down until I hit the floor, finally releasing the clogging tears from my aching throat. The elevator was slow and I cried all the way down to the lobby, only scrabbling to my feet when I realized someone could be standing there at the door when it opened and would surely wonder about the crazy woman sobbing on the floor. I walked out the double doors and through the well-lit parking lot, numb. I began the search for my car and walked in circles through the rows of parked cars a good five minutes before I remembered that I'd taken a taxi instead of driving. Sighing wearily, I slogged back to the main entrance and found a waiting cab; told the driver my address and leaned my head against the padded seat. All the way back to my apartment I brooded over what I had seen, finally coming to the unwelcome conclusion that Fox most likely didn't realize the depth and timbre of his love. Hopeless, to be sure - for Dana was slipping away and there wasn't a thing to be done about it. But I was very attuned to him, and I could see - had in that moment of involuntary voyeurism delved far enough into his soul to know that he loved her in a way he could never love me. And I asked myself if, when Dana did pass on, could Fox ever see me in any other light? I thought about it as I rode through the streets back to my place, wondering if I should wait and see... injured pride telling me it was time to get out... my heart knowing that I could not give up yet. Very soon, Fox would need someone to listen to his grief and to offer him a shoulder and a loving embrace. As long as he was in need of me I would never just let it go - I couldn't. As the taxi pulled up to the curb in front of my building and I climbed out and paid my fare, I told myself I would always be there. Where else, after all, should I be? I was a woman in love. ****************** end of chapter seven ~ Chapter Eight ~ He wasn't sleeping well. Of course, that was assuming he'd been sleeping at all. He divided his time between sitting on the edge of my hospital bed and God only knows where else. Mulder had been pretty closed-mouthed about what he did when he wasn't camped out in my room, but if the dark circles under his eyes were any indication, he wasn't getting any rest... I glanced at the clock on the wall. Almost five o'clock. He would be arriving shortly. I noticed early on that he had taken to timing his visits around mealtimes. He would perch on the edge of the bed and try coaxing me into eating. If it didn't work, he would pout, bully or plead with me to eat something, anything. The pleading was most effective and despite the ever-present, underlying nausea that had robbed me of my appetite, I usually succumbed to the imploring look in his eyes as I choked down a few bites of food. I reached into the small drawer of the wheeled tray next to my bed and pulled out a small mirror and brush. I gently stroked the brush through my hair, smoothing it and pushing it behind my ears, studiously ignoring the strands of red tangled in the brush as I laid it back into the drawer. I raised the head of the bed and smoothed the sheets over my lap, grimacing as I realized that I was primping for Mulder. Well, why not? I thought defensively. I was tired of seeing the sad look creep into his eyes every day when he first saw me. He always covered it quickly with a smile but I saw it lurking there each time his eyes roved over my face, taking note of the pallor of my skin, the shadows under my eyes. Tonight - I just wanted to enjoy his company. I touched my fingers to the tiny bandage covering the back of my neck. Dr. Zuckerman had given me the result of the PET scan I had undergone earlier today. The chip - whatever it was - didn't seem to be working. The scan showed no improvement - my cancer was still spreading rapidly and I knew I didn't have a lot of time left. A sound outside of my door caught my attention and I took a deep breath and composed my features. The smile that spread over my face was happy and genuine as Mulder stepped into view. "Hi," he said as he crossed the room. I scooted over, making room for him on the bed next to me. He put a small brown bag down onto the bedside table and sank down into his spot as I tilted my face up to his. From the moment he first found me in the hospital earlier this week, he has greeted me with a kiss. His lips glanced off the corner of my mouth and my lips curved upward in response. "You look good," he smiled as he took one of my hands into his. I grinned, happy that I had taken the time earlier to fix my hair. The door swung open again and an orderly came in bearing my dinner. He set it down on the wheeled table and quickly left the room. Mulder wiggled his eyebrows comically as he lifted the plastic lid from the tray. "What do we have tonight?" he asked as he perused the meal spread out over the tray. I ignored the food, choosing instead to concentrate on his face while he was distracted. "Mmmm," he said theatrically. "Broiled chicken and rice," smacking his lips and making 'yummy' noises. I snorted and he looked up with a smile. "Tell you what," he was persuasive as he pushed the fork toward me. "If you eat at least half of that," he nodded toward the chicken, "I won't make you eat the green Jell-o." His tongue slipped out of his mouth as he mock-gagged at the sight of the slimy, wiggly dessert. "Mulder..." I began. I really wasn't hungry but at least today the mere smell of the food didn't make me sick. I knew that I would give in and eat and so did he. But I had to lodge a protest if only for the principle of it. He shook his head and picked up the bag he had brought with him. "At least half," he said again as he opened the bag. "I brought you a treeeaaat," he sing-songed. I licked my lips and jutted my chin toward the bag. "What is it?" I asked suspiciously. I'd wait to know what was inside the bag before I caved in. Mulder dug his hand down into the bag and ceremoniously withdrew a small plastic tray covered in cellophane. "Lady Fingers," he crowed, waving the small package temptingly under my nose. I took the package into my hands and smoothed my fingers over the label, blinking back tears. It was silly really, to cry over his gift, but the fact he remembered that I'd once told him of my mother's habit of supplying me with the bland little cakes to eat when I wasn't feeling well touched me deeply. Keeping my head lowered, I laid the package on the bed and picked up my fork. When my features were composed once again, I looked up at him. "Half of everything?" I asked. "Or just the chicken?" Mulder glanced over the tray of food and pursed his lips as if it was a matter worthy of the deepest concentration. "Well..." he began consideringly. "Half of the chicken and the rice," he suggested. "But I won't make you eat this vegetable-like substance." He poked a finger at the small plastic cup that held an unappealing glob of mixed vegetables. "Thanks so much," I muttered as I lifted the first bite of chicken to my mouth. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him pull a tea bag from its paper envelope and dunk it into a cup of hot water before adding a teaspoon of sugar and a drop or two of creamer. Just the way I liked it... I forced the chicken down past the lump in my throat and took the teacup from his hand. "Thank you," I whispered, as I took a sip of tea. After just a couple of mouthfuls, I was already tired. Mulder picked up the knife and fork and cut the chicken into small pieces. He stabbed a bite of chicken onto the fork and for a moment, I thought he was going to feed me. He hesitated and then held the fork out to me. "Just a couple more bites," he said encouragingly. I took a deep breath and continued eating under his watchful gaze. I hadn't quite reached Mulder's goal of half, but I couldn't choke down another bite and I laid the fork onto the tray with a sigh. "Close enough," he said as he put the plastic lid over the tray and pushed it to one side. He lifted the teacup again and held it out to me and I wrapped my fingers around the cup, absorbing the warmth through my fingertips. "Is something going on?" I asked. While he had been covering the tray and straightening my blankets, his eyes had been distant and pensive. I knew the look well. It was the look that told me he had something on his mind and was brooding over it. "You can tell me," I encouraged as I set the cup down and laid my hand over his. Mulder nodded and turned his hand over, lacing his fingers with mine. "I know," he said softly. "I'm not ready to talk about it yet," he said. "Soon. I'll tell you soon," he promised. I wanted to inform him that I didn't know how much time I had left, but I didn't want to ruin the evening. Instead I tightened my fingers around his. "Can I have my Lady Fingers now?" I asked, deliberately lightening the mood. He grinned and picked up the package. I let go of his hand and he tore the cellophane open and lifted one small cake out of the tray, tearing it in half. He held one half of the treat to my lips and I opened my mouth, savoring the bland yet sweet taste as the light sponge cake melted on my tongue. Mulder popped the other half of the cake into his mouth and chewed. He screwed his face up and picked up another cake, studying it closely. "It needs a cream filling," he pronounced gravely. I snatched the small, golden cake from his hand. "Then it would be a Twinkie," I told him reprovingly. Mulder nodded and smiled. "Exactly!" he exclaimed. I huffed out a breath and took another bite. As I chewed, Mulder leaned forward and ran his thumb over the corner of my mouth. "Crumb," he explained quietly. He kept his hand curved over my cheek and I leaned into the warmth of his palm. My heart constricted as I stared at him... and suddenly I hoped that Mulder was right in his belief in spirits and ghosts. If I had to leave him behind in this world, I wanted to be able to come back and be with him from another. Mulder set the tray of Lady Fingers aside and scooted closer. Wrapping his arms around me, he pulled me against his chest. I curled my arms about his waist and buried my face in the collar of his shirt, breathing in his scent, memorizing the feel of his flesh and bones beneath my hands, absorbing him into my soul to take with me when I had to go. His hands stroked over my back and he rested his cheek on the crown of my head. We rocked slowly together and I stifled a yawn against his chest. "Go to sleep," he whispered. I nestled closer and let my body grow limp in his embrace. "Stay until I'm asleep?" I asked around another yawn. "I'll be here," he promised. Knowing he would keep his promise, I let sleep claim me. ******************* My legs felt like lead as I forced one foot in front of the other. Climbing stairs when I could have taken the elevator, but I welcomed the ache. Pain meant that at least I was feeling something; at least some part of my body had life. Not my heart, though... not that vital organ. Oh, it still beat and pushed blood throughout my system, but that was about it. I rubbed at my aching eyes and came away with a wet hand. The tears must have been pouring down my face; no wonder the cabbie had been staring at me on the ride over. And I thought I'd cried it all out at Scully's bedside... guess not. Jesus, what a difference in mindset between one night and another. I'd left my apartment with hope curving a smile on my lips and I was coming back to it in utter despair. Wearily I climbed the stairs. I had pinned all those former hopes on the promise of a tiny chip implant holding the magic cure for Scully's rapidly-spreading cancer. So desperately eager to hear a voice, any voice, telling me that all would be well - even if that voice had the sibilant hiss of Satan himself. Smokie had made yet another worthless promise and I'd leapt right onto it with both feet poised for action. I'd spent the better half of the night on my knees beside Scully's bed, crying my despair onto her small hand; she'd never stirred once. Heavily-sedated, I knew she would not awaken even though every cell in my body screamed for her to open those blue, blue eyes of hers and shine some sort of reassuring gaze on me. I had slipped gently trembling fingers underneath her hair, needing to feel the tiny incision on her neck and acknowledge the presence of that damn chip - the one that didn't seem to be working. Another red herring, white elephant, whatever I could call it - just another placebo. It was not helping and I knew it. Scully knew it - and so did her family. Perhaps that was the worst of all; that I'd made a promise to her family and now it was as though I couldn't deliver. I'd once more lowered my face to her hand and cried against the cool skin. Now I walked slowly down my hallway and rubbed at my face with hands that shook. And they shook with anger as much as anything else. In those brief seconds before I reached my door I knew I would never want to lay eyes on that smoking bastard again, for if I did I would surely kill him and subsequently spend my remaining days in prison for murder. I managed to unlock my door without dropping my key, and walked in without bothering to put on a light. So tired... God. I shuffled to my bedroom, tugging at my shirt - Only to come up short at the sight of Lilly in my bed, asleep. I stared down at her in confusion, wondering why she was there, forgetting for the moment that I'd told her to come over when she'd had the time. So, with the hallway light behind me throwing illumination over my bed, I watched her sleep - the sleep of a young, vibrant and healthy woman. In that first minute I was so furiously angry, as I stood at the foot of my bed and looked down at Lilly. Angry - because I should love this woman and yet what I felt paled to nothing when compared to the avalanche of feeling brought on earlier when I'd kneeled at the side of a hospital bed and cried all over Scully. Anger at the sure knowledge of that coveted 'normal life' slipping right through my fingers unless I reached out and grabbed Lilly with both hands. Resentment that I couldn't be happy about it, and for more reasons than just the imminent loss of Scully. Awareness that Lilly was being grossly shortchanged because of my inability to offer her anything more than what little I'd given her so far in our relationship. In the dim light Lilly slept on her side with a hand curled under her cheek. She was a lovely woman - sweet and kind and loving; generous with herself and always ready to listen and offer her support - deserving of a man who would worship the ground she walked upon and be anxious as hell to marry her and spend his life giving her children and the happiest of memories. As I gazed at her I could see superimposed over her features the pale, thin face of the woman I had just begun to need more than food or air or even my own pathetic life. I had left it too late; had not possessed the brain matter to see what had been in front of me all along. Now it was too late. I knew it, even as I fought to denounce it. Too late for me and too late for Scully, ah Christ... I fumbled for the edge of the bed and sat down before I fell over. "Fox." Lilly's sleepy murmur brought my attention back from the desolate place it had been wandering, and I turned to face her as she sat up. I forced a smile and moved up closer to her, reaching out a hand to squeeze her fingers gently. Her hair was tousled and she smelled of roses and sleep, and I felt a great wave of tenderness flood me as I held her hand. She was wonderful and I didn't love her, not the way she deserved to be loved. She was everything I'd once thought I'd wanted, a full representation of that normal life I craved - and I couldn't take that step - not with her. The only woman I would ever want to walk with lay in a hospital bed, weakening daily despite all that had been done to the contrary. And I... I had trusted the Devil to give me a cure that in all probability was just another goddamned smoke screen. Well, considering the source - it was appropriate. "Fox, are you all right?" Lilly's soft hesitancy broke into my dark thoughts, and I formed another hasty smile and nodded, slipping an arm around her shoulders and giving her a gentle hug. Lilly rested her cheek into my neck and her query was mumbled into my skin. "Have you been to see Dana? How is she?" I took a deep breath and made my reply as positive as I could. "She was asleep while I was there, but it seemed to be a good, solid sleep. I'm going to try talking to her doctor tomorrow, if he's available." Not quite the whole truth; I was actually going to talk with the man just long enough to assure myself Scully was holding her own - then I was going to track down the black-lunged snake who'd been responsible for the agony Scully was experiencing... and throttle him until he swallowed the fillings in his nicotine-stained teeth. I shook away the nasty images brewing inside my head and released Lilly, pressing her down into the mattress. "You should get some sleep, Lilly - you have to work in the morning." I started to cover her over with the blanket but she stayed my hand. "I'm not going in tomorrow, Fox - I'll call in sick. I don't want you to be alone now - I really think I should stay with you, in case you need... well, just in case. Please, I don't mind. Let me help." In the gloom her eyes were pleading with me and I knew she was offering much more than help - she was offering the assuage of my inevitable grief. And I felt again that flare of anger and resentment, this time directed at Lilly. With her words she was accepting the loss of Scully, expecting and accepting it - and I would not go there, even though in my conscious depths I would eventually have to. But I would not go there today, or tomorrow or next week or month - I refused. I shook my head and scraped together one last parody of a smile. "No, Lilly - you don't have to. I'll be fine. Why don't you try to get some sleep, okay? I have some work to do and if I get tired I'll just doze on the sofa. I'll take you back to your place tomorrow morning on my way to the hospital." I stood up and made a move toward the door but Lilly again caught at my hand. "Fox, won't you please just come to bed? I've missed you... it's been so long since we've had any time together. I just want to snuggle next to you and make sure you're really okay." I shook my head again, the drain of these past few days robbing me of the ability to force another smile. I gently disengaged her clinging fingers and stepped away, steeling myself against the resigned awareness I now saw in her eyes. "No, Lilly - I can't sleep right now. I wouldn't be able to relax; I'm too keyed up. You sleep - and I'll just finish my work." I turned and walked out into the living room, heaving a sigh of relief when she made no further attempt to detain me. I went into the kitchen and got a glass of water, filling and draining it twice. I felt dry as a desert inside and knew that regardless of how much water I downed I would need even more. I filled up the glass a third time and sat at the kitchen table in the dark, sipping at it and thinking about Scully... wishing I were there with her right now. There with her, absorbing her sweetness and not wasting any more precious time. Precious, every second of it - valuable beyond measure. And I sat in the dark and crammed water down my throat. What an asshole I was. Three minutes later I was out the door and running down the hallway, on my eager way to Scully. It would be hours later before I realized that in my urgency to get back to the hospital, I had put Lilly out of my mind... all too easily. ************************ Two days after my aborted attempt to visit Dana, I found myself once again walking the hallways of Trinity Hospital. Empty-handed this time, my steps faltering as I drew closer to her room, my stomach clenched at the thought of finding Fox tenderly cradling Dana in his arms again. What was I doing here? I wondered. If, indeed, Fox were with Dana, would I turn and run again? Two days ago, I had come to this hospital naively hoping to bring some cheer into Dana's room with my silly little gift while at the same time, hoping to persuade Fox to come home with me for a little while to rest. I was ashamed that my intentions today were much more self-serving. I'm not sure what I thought I would accomplish with today's visit. I already knew Dana was in love with Fox and judging by the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I was almost certain that he returned those feelings. Was I here looking for proof that I had lost him to her or reassurance that he was still mine? I ruthlessly suppressed the tiny voice whispering that I was really looking for proof that in few days or weeks it wouldn't matter any longer. I stumbled to a halt and grabbed onto the wall for support when Dana's door swung open and a priest stepped out. Hot tears flooded my eyes belying my worries that jealousy had made me mean and ugly and I gratefully realized that no matter what, I could never wish for the death of the young woman on the other side of that door in order to ensure my own happiness. I waited for a moment but there was no rush of doctors or nurses into her room, no sounds of mournful weeping. Perhaps, I wasn't too late after all. I took a deep breath and laid my hand on the smooth wood of the door, mentally preparing myself to accept whatever it was that I found in that room. I pushed the door open gently and took one step inside and stopped, taking a moment to study the woman lying in the bed on the other side of the room. She was alone and her face was turned toward the window, but even from this distance I could see the gaunt cheeks and pale skin. Her fingers rested lightly over the tiny gold cross that I knew she always wore around her neck and her gaze was fixed on the sunlight spilling through the blinds. I took another step toward the bed and cleared my throat softly. ************ I sighed at the delicate sound of someone clearing her throat and rolled my head toward the source, resigned to submitting to the demands of yet another nurse or medical technician looking to draw blood or check my vitals. My eyes widened, the small measure of peace I had attained with Father McCue's visit vanishing at the sight of Lillian hovering in the doorway. I fumbled for the elevation controls on the left rail of my bed and hastily raised the head of the mattress into a sitting position. "Lillian," I said slowly as I forced a tired smile onto my face. Mulder had mentioned to me a few days ago that he thought she might stop by to see me, but I was still surprised to find her here. She crossed the room hesitantly and I gestured toward the guest chair next to the bed. "Mulder was here about two hours ago," I began but she shook her head and leaned back into the vinyl seat. "I'm sorry I haven't been by to see you sooner," she blurted apologetically. I waved her apology off with one hand and she nodded. She was nervous and her hands moved restlessly in her lap. "How are you?" she finally asked as she looked up at me. I shook my head and picked at a loose thread in the blanket draped over my legs and we lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Lillian agitatedly ran her thumb over the glossy polish on the fingertips of her other hand and I waited in confusion for her to begin to speak. When she wasn't forthcoming, I realized as I watched her sitting next to my bed that there was something I needed to say to her. "Lillian," I said quietly and she lifted her eyes to mine. "I..." I stopped, unsure of how to put into words what I was feeling, what I needed to say. I licked my lips and once again touched my fingers to the tiny cross around my neck. I had promised myself only a short while ago to start putting my affairs into order. I'd had a lawyer draw up a will and other testamentary documents several years ago. I don't own a home but I'd made arrangements for my family members to take whatever they wanted of my personal possessions as keepsakes and to have the remainder of my property sold. Any money from the sale of my property was to be combined with the proceeds of my life insurance, my savings and retirement plans and was to be invested to help pay the college tuition of any nieces and nephews that I may have. Bill and Tara were expecting their first child in a few months and I hoped that someday Charlie would meet someone and settle down to raise a family of his own. I told my mother before she left my room this morning that I wanted to be sure that Mulder be given my cross. I had made no provisions for him in my will - he didn't need my money - but I wanted him to have this small reminder of me. Looking at Lillian, I knew it was time for me to finalize the most important detail. Mulder. I needed to be sure that he would be taken care of before I could rest. "Lillian," I said again. Drawing in a shaky breath I lifted my eyes to hers. "I wanted to talk to you about Mulder," I said softly. Her eyes skittered away from mine and dropped back to her fidgeting hands. I cleared my throat nervously. "I think..." I blew out an impatient breath and tried to compose my thoughts. "I'm not getting better Lillian," I finally said. Her eyes shot back up to mine. "Fox said..." she began but her gaze wandered over my face and she knew the truth. I smiled sadly. "Mulder doesn't want to admit what is right in his face," I told her quietly. "And that is going to make this so much harder for him," I whispered. I went back to picking at the blanket as I struggled for the right words. "I know I don't have any right to pry into your relationship with Mulder and I hope that you don't take this the wrong way," I began. "But he's going to need you to -" Lillian held up her hand and interrupted me. "You're in love with him," she murmured. Her eyes were brimming with tears, but her face was kind and her voice held no accusation. I sucked in a surprised breath and felt tears prick the back of my own eyes. I couldn't deny it, but neither could I admit it to her. I couldn't - wouldn't - burden Mulder with my feelings at this late date, and if I couldn't tell him the truth of my feelings, I wouldn't tell anyone. "I think he's in love with you too," Lillian said and I saw the sadness and despair in her eyes. I closed my own eyes against the pain of her words. Too late, too late, too late, I thought. I waited and wasted so many years. I said a quick and fervent prayer for the strength to continue. "Lillian," I began. "I'm his best friend." She huffed out a disbelieving breath as I added, "He may think his feelings for me have changed, but Lillian, that's just grief talking." I thought of the tender hugs and late nights that he had spent with me over the last few months. The gentle kisses and waking to find him beside my bed. There is a difference between loving someone and being in love with them and that's what I tried to tell Lillian. "I know Mulder has been spending most of his free time with me, Lillian," I said. "And I just... I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience." "Oh, Dana...I..." She shook her head and rubbed her fingers over her eyes, automatically denying the validity of my statement. I sat up and leaned forward. "I know how many dates Mulder has canceled, how preoccupied he has been, of late," I said. "I needed him and I've been selfish, hoarding his time and you've been very... gracious." My voice trailed off into a choked whisper and I furiously blinked away the tears that were blinding me. "Dana..." Lillian said, casting her eyes around the room before her gaze landed back on my face. "I... he needed to be here," she told me. I knew she was right just as I knew it must have been terribly difficult for her to sit by while Mulder lavished so much of his time and attention on me. "I know I have no right to ask you for any favors," I said quietly. "But I'm going to ask you to promise me something." Her lips were drawn down in sad curve and her eyes were red-rimmed and in their soft, brown depths I saw confusion. "He feels everything so intensely," I told her. "Especially guilt. Please, promise me that you won't let him wallow in it." She seemed startled by my request and I plunged ahead before I lost the nerve to continue. "He's going to need someone to lean on when I'm gone," I said. "Don't let him run off half-cocked trying to avenge me," I begged. "Keep him home, stay with him." I looked away from her for a moment and stared out the window at the sunshine and bright blue sky of what promised to be another lovely fall day. There wouldn't be many more of them, for me... I blinked back tears of self-pity and turned back to Lillian. "I know how much you love him," I told her and I smiled softly. "And I feel so selfish for saying this to you, but I need to know... I can't rest until I'm sure..." I stopped and knuckled a stray tear from my lashes. "I can't rest until I know he that he is going to be taken care of," I said. Lillian rose out of the chair and stood next to my bed. She lifted her hands to her face and wiped away the tears that were streaking her cheeks. She laid one hand over mine and squeezed it softly. "I promise." **************** After Lillian left my hospital room, the tears I'd been struggling to hold back spilled over. Lying in my bed, fingering the rosary that Father McCue had left with me, I tried to regain the acceptance I had found while praying with him that morning. But the tension of my visit with Lillian combined with the long bout of weeping after she was gone had left me with a raging headache. After trying to cope with the pain for more than an hour, I finally rang for the nurses and requested a painkiller. The morphine drip barely took the edge off of the furious pounding behind my eyes and left me nauseous. Even under the influence of heavy medication, I was unable to sleep. I was afraid to sleep because I knew that once I finally did, I wouldn't reawaken and I had one more thing to do. I had to say goodbye. Mulder came back to the hospital late in the afternoon after his confrontation with Section Chief Blevins and the FBI review panel. He settled into his customary place next to me on the mattress and his long fingers played with the tiny beads of my rosary as he began to fill me in on the events that had transpired only a short while earlier at the Hoover Building. "You're tired," he said finally said as he looked into my face. "This can wait until tomorrow." He stroked his fingers lightly through my hair. "Why don't you try to get some sleep," he suggested. I reached out and caught his wrist with my hand and although my grip was weak, it was enough to cause him to sit back down. "Mulder," I rasped and he reached for the small plastic pitcher on the tray by my bed and filled a cup with cool water. He slid his hand under the back of my head and supported me as I took a couple of sips of water. Exhausted by even the most simple of movements, I slumped back into the pillows as he set the cup down. "What is it, Scully?" he asked. His hands were busy rearranging the various items on the top of the tray and he bit at his lips nervously, refusing to meet my gaze. I laid my hand on his leg. "Mulder," I whispered again. "Look at me." Reluctantly, he stopped fidgeting with a tiny box of tissues and raised his eyes to mine. "Dr. Zuckerman gave me the results of my PET scan yesterday," I began quietly. Mulder immediately looked away and began to shake his head back and forth. "Mulder, please," I implored as he pushed the tray out of his way and climbed to his feet. "No," he said. "Scully, I don't care what the tests say..." He took a step back from the bed and stumbled into the tray, knocking the tissues and pitcher of water to the floor. "Fuck!" he swore as he strode toward the tiny bathroom. He came back with a handful of paper towels and squatted next to the bed, mopping up the water that had formed a puddle on the linoleum. I shifted, painfully turning onto my side and held out my hand. "Let that go, Mulder," I begged. He ignored me and continued to mop up the spill. I stretched my fingers toward him. "Mulder," I said. He hung his head and I watched his chest rise and fall as he sucked oxygen into his lungs. He looked up and my vision blurred at the sight of the tears rolling silently down his cheeks. He pitched the wet towels into the wastebasket and scrambled to his feet. "Don't, Scully," he pleaded. "Please, you've got to believe that you can beat this. You can't... you can't..." He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, hiding his face from me. "Please, Scully. You've got to try." I felt hot tears brim and spill over my lashes. I reached out again and my fingers brushed against his white shirt. "Oh, Mulder," I sighed. "I wish there was a way - " He grabbed my hands in a bruising grip and sat back down next to me. "There is," he insisted. "Just believe, Scully. Please," he whispered as he pressed our joined hands to his lips. "Please try." I slid one hand free and ran my fingers through the hair that had spilled over his forehead. "I'm tired, Mulder," I said softly. "I'm so tired." Mulder gasped and dropped his head onto my stomach. His shoulders shook with great hitching sobs. "Don't leave me, Scully," he pleaded. "Please don't go away." He wrapped his arms around me and burrowed his face against me and I could feel his tears soaking through the thin, cotton hospital gown. "I can't... I can't do this without you," his voice was a broken whisper. I tugged on his shoulders and he climbed into the bed next to me. Drawing his head onto my shoulder I threaded my fingers through his thick hair. "I don't want to leave you, Mulder," I said softly. "I would stay with you forever if I could." He sighed and wound his arms even tighter around me. "I'll always be with you," I promised. "But I don't think I can stay with you here, in this place anymore..." Mulder shifted slightly and laid his head between my breasts, pressing his ear over my heart. His body continued to shudder as he wept in my arms. Finally, I felt his rigid posture soften and his sobs quiet as he matched his breathing to my own, his head rising and falling with every breath that I took. Together, we watched the sun go down and as darkness encroached into the room, we slept. ******************* Perhaps an hour or two after we had fallen asleep, the wind rattled a window in her room and the sound roused me enough from my uneasy sleep for me to recall that I was in bed with Scully, and holding her. For a minute I was disoriented; my eyes burned and ached and my face felt tight from the tears I'd shed earlier in the day. I turned my head on the pillow and let my arms tighten around Scully's thin body, counting the breaths I felt her take against my side. They were steady, thank God - deep and steady. I shifted a little in the bed and cuddled her closer, now wide awake and knowing there would be no more rest for me. I would rather stay awake anyhow - hoarding these precious hours and hugging them to myself, gladly watching over her and counting the minutes until dawn. In the dim room her pale face was never more beautiful than now, relaxed and serene, all the shadows of her illness smoothed away as if by magic. Her hand lay against my chest, fingers curled into my shirt and pressed to my heart, and her lips nuzzled into my neck; I treasured the feel of it - of Scully. Yet even as I cherished this time with her, residual anger, black and rending, threatened to displace any quiet joy I felt, and I fought to keep it at bay as I held her. Anger at the cards we'd been dealt, years ago when we were only beginning to understand the magnitude of this conspiracy in which we'd become embroiled. Helplessness so complete it caused actual pain - that I was, in spite of all I'd done, losing her. My heart could refuse to accept it from now until Doomsday, but my mind was too sore and exhausted to fight. Yet I had to fight - I could not let her go. If I let her go, I'd die. There would be no reason to go on. I lay awake with Scully in my arms and so many small things fell into exact and precise place; things I'd felt and things for which I'd attained an awareness these past few years. Times when the tilt of her head or the placement of one small hand could make the difference between a good day or a bad one. The simple happiness I could obtain from nothing more than needling her science and waiting for her ascending eyebrow, or her slow burn as she digested my half- baked theory with true Scully disdain. The times I watched for that one small upwards curl of her mouth, as she grudgingly allowed herself amusement at my expense... I realized now that I would gladly put myself at her expense time and again for the rest of my life if it meant I could see her little smile, and join in her amusement. It seemed as though I'd been born loving Scully... that somehow I'd grown up with an innate knowing, of a redheaded child who would someday own my soul and control my heart with nothing more complicated than the soft way she spoke the word, 'Mulder'... It would not have mattered how many women I'd met; how many lovely women such as Lilly could cross my path in one lifetime. I knew without a single doubt I would never have been satisfied with what I may have found in their arms or in their offered love. I knew that now. As the hours crept deeper into the night I held my love in my arms and plotted with desperate calculation the obliteration of the enemy within her frail body, prepared to do battle with any and all demons - until its defeat was in my grasp. And as full darkness slipped in through the slotted blinds at the windows I as gently slid from her embrace and tucked the blankets around her shoulders. Pressing a kiss to her soft hair and silently promising her a miracle, I left Scully in God's capable hands - and went off to find a demon to fight. *********** end of chapter eight From: Tnv099@aol.com Date: Mon, 25 Jun 2001 23:01:06 EDT Subject: To Love Somebody by: Char Chaffin and Tess Source: direct ~ Chapter Nine ~ The door swung open and I turned eagerly toward the light spilling into the room from the hallway. Instead of the tall, lanky form I had been hoping to see, Vivien, the night nurse walked toward me with a smile on her face that reached from ear to ear. In just a few days, everything had changed... the grin on my face had to be just as wide, as I held out my hands. Vivien reached my bed in two swift strides. "Dana!" she exclaimed. "I just started my shift and heard the good news. Remission!" she cried as she grabbed both of my hands and squeezed them tightly between her own. The joy on her face was genuine and unmistakable. Too often these doctors and nurses find themselves on the losing side of the war against this disease. "It's a miracle," I told her, returning her squeeze. She blinked back tears and then set about fussing over me, straightening the blankets over my legs and plumping the pillows behind my head. "Vivien," I called to her softly as she refilled the small plastic pitcher with water from the sink in the bathroom. She walked back into the room and set the pitcher within reaching distance of my hands. "Do you need something honey?" she asked kindly. I nodded and looked toward the door. "Is Mulder still sitting out there?" I asked. She shook her head and my heart sank. I was so sure that he would still be there. My family had camped out in my room for most of the day and night and I had barely had a chance to speak with him after the doctors had given me the good news. "I heard someone say that he was sleeping in the lounge," Vivien told me. Mulder's near-constant presence at the hospital had made him a familiar figure to the staff. I knew the nurses had been plying him with coffee and other goodies during his nocturnal visits. More than once I had awakened in the middle of the night to find him sleeping in the chair next to my bed, a blanket draped over his slumped shoulders by a kindly nurse or orderly. "Would you ask him to come here?" I asked pleadingly. Vivien planted her hands on her ample hips and frowned at me. I knew she was waging an internal battle over the importance of rest for a recovering patient and her desire to give in to the beseeching look on my face. Finally she relented and shook her head as if despairing of the soft spot she obviously held for her patients. "Ten minutes," she warned and I nodded obediently. A few moments later I heard his footsteps hurrying down the hall toward my room. The door opened and he was across the room in three quick strides, a huge smile on his tired, beautiful face. I slid across the bed and he settled down on the mattress, facing me, and pulled me into his arms. "We got our miracle, Scully," he whispered. I nodded and clutched him tightly in my embrace. I felt his fingers trace lightly over the small bandage on the back of my neck and then the warmth of his breath as he fervently pressed his lips over the same place. I leaned against him, enjoying the feel of his arms around me - and I refused to give in to the worrying thought of where we would go from here. Instead I rested my cheek against his shoulder and reveled in the tenderness of his fingers winnowing through my hair in a soothing rhythm. "Time's up," Vivien whispered as she poked her head into the room. "Come on, Mr. Mulder," she said. "You can come back tomorrow, but Dana still needs to rest." Mulder nodded and slipped out of my arms. He stood up and waited until I was settled comfortably against the pillows before tucking the blankets securely around me. He bent down and brushed his lips over my forehead, then gently and lingeringly kissed my mouth. "Sleep well, Scully," he whispered against my lips, before straightening and moving from the bed. I nodded and watched him walk across the room. He stopped in the doorway and turned toward me. The light from the hallway was behind him and his face was hidden in the shadows, but I saw him lift his hand to his heart before waving goodbye. "Goodnight," he murmured softly. I tugged the covers up to my chin and sighed. "Goodnight," I whispered as the door slid closed behind him. ************** When I opened my door and saw Fox - well, more importantly, saw the look of quiet joy on his face - I knew I had lost. I'd been sitting on the edge of my sofa, hands folded in my lap, since the moment I'd hung up from his phone call. He'd wanted to come over, he'd said - had great news to tell me. Of course I knew it had to be about Dana; what else could it be? Lately, with Fox... everything was about Dana. This time when that ugly thought planted itself in my head I didn't shame myself into pushing it away - this time I hugged it to me with jealous greed. I refused to contemplate how very small I'd become in just a few short minutes, as I sat and waited for his knock on the door. And suddenly all the positive energy I'd been feeling all morning; all the hopeful thoughts I'd gathered over the past few days - all of it went up in a spark of pure spite. A part of me - the part that still remembered what it was like to be Gran's little angel - hated the blackness swimming in waters that up until now had always been clear. Then again... I had never been in love this way - fully enamored, and desperate. And I'd never had anyone like Fox Mulder in my life. If any man was worth fighting for, it was Fox. For weeks I had been telling myself that I would be the worst sort of bitch, if I fought against a dying woman for a larger slice of the man we both loved. Up until that phone call, I was doing a fine job of convincing myself to be the better person, regardless of whatever permission I had received from Dana. When my phone rang my heart had jumped and thudded painfully inside my chest, and the hand that reached for the receiver had actually trembled. I thought, 'This is it - she's gone. My poor Fox...' As soon as his voice sounded in my ear, so animated and warm and happy - I knew. The look on his face when I opened the door only strengthened the bitter knowledge that my time with Fox was over. He'd stood there with the biggest smile on his tired face, looking so handsome it about broke my heart; with both hands he reached out for my arms, and pulled me into a bear-hug. I felt numb but I could still decipher the subtle difference in the quality of that hug. It suddenly proclaimed 'friend' instead of 'lover'... I swear I could tell. I pinned a smile on my face and hugged him back, and waited for the words that would crush my hopes. "Lilly, God, it's a true miracle. Scully's in remission. It's still touch and go a bit but if she holds steady, there's no reason to think she won't make a complete recovery." Fox's eyes glowed, positively shone with happiness; he hugged me again and this time lifted me a little and swung me around. When he let me touch the floor again I fought to keep the smile attached firmly on my face. Inside, I felt that I was crumbling, piece by piece. Yes, I was glad for Dana; My God, I'm not a monster! I was happy to know she would be all right; would live out a normal life. I could never wish anything as heinous as cancer on even my worst enemy. But I am also human, with human failings. I would probably be ashamed for a very long time that I let those nasty feelings take me over, before Fox arrived. However, when he hugged me and I could see and experience for myself his utter joy, I knew I couldn't let bitterness rule my day any longer. That wasn't me... I'd been raised better than that. I looked up and smiled into Fox's glowing face, and this time my smile was genuine. "Oh, Fox - I'm so glad. This is great news. Was it that chip you told me about? Is that what healed her?" Fox nodded and pulled me over to the sofa; we sat facing each other and I allowed myself the pure pleasure of being his focal point - knowing it might be the last. I concentrated on his explanation. "Yeah, it had to be the chip. We may never know how or why it worked, and really at this moment I don't care. It worked and she's going to beat this - that's all I care about." I reached out and squeezed his hand, and Fox squeezed back, face still wreathed in smiles. He added, "She'll have to stay in the hospital a few more days and undergo some tests, but I think they'll spring her by the end of the week. I'm going to talk her into going to her mom's for some TLC. She'll fight me on it, but I think right now Scully needs her family around her." I nodded, thinking that if it were me I'd be wanting my Gran's comforting presence and cheerful caring, all around me. I watched Fox as he jumped up from the sofa, clearly restless, probably anxious to get back to the hospital, and Dana. I wanted to keep him with me as long as I could; how would I ever be able to let him go? For I knew as soon as he walked out that door he'd be lost to me. And I also knew that I wanted our parting to be on my terms. It was a matter of pride; a matter of finding the best way to survive the loss of the man I loved, so much - a way of gaining strength in the knowledge that I would somehow find joy in his happiness. My terms... I stood up and moved over to his side, and placed my hand on his arm, wanting desperately to just grab him up into my embrace and never let him go. It took every ounce of my restraint not to drop to my knees before him and beg him to stay with me, even though neither of us had yet to speak of leaving. At the touch of my hand Fox turned to me with another smile, this time warm and tender and all mine. Before I could open my mouth to speak, the words were tumbling from him in a low rush. "Lilly, throughout these past months you've been a grounding force for me; I don't know what I would have done without your caring and understanding. I wish..." His voice trailed off into an uneven whisper as I found myself placing silencing fingers against his lips. My answering smile was wobbly and teary, but my voice came out firm and clear. "You wish it could be different, Fox - but it's not. We're not meant to be together. It took me a long time to see it and admit it, but I think it's time I grew up a little - and it's time as well, for you to see that the only woman you will ever want to commit to, is Dana..." ********************* I stared at her in confusion. How could Lilly think something like that? Hadn't I been the committed one, to her - for well over two years? I had been hers exclusively, as she had been mine - when had I ever given her pause to think of Scully and me, in that way? And yet... when had I not? I was rooted to the spot, shock at Lilly's words and the look in her eyes holding me captive. In those soft eyes of hers I saw resignation and a kind of acceptance, and the knowledge that my feelings had been so transparent just threw me, hard. I thought I'd done such a great job of keeping it buried, though I knew Lilly was an intelligent, intuitive person. And if I never saw anything wrong with stringing her along for all this time... I sure did, now. My God - I had tied up two and a half years of her life, with no thought of how I would complete it and what sort of reward she would get for her devotion. And while I was treating Lilly in that manner, I was also attempting self-declaration where Scully was concerned, yet never thinking beyond what would happen if she beat the cancer odds. So busy mourning the loss of Scully, when I should have been freeing myself for her and however much time we might have together - and releasing Lilly from her bondage to my affection and allowing her a way to get on with her life. God, I was a jerk... I bowed my head and rubbed hard at my eyes, and when I looked up I know remorse was evident all over me. I put my arms around Lilly and held her close, taking comfort yet again from her familiar scent and the way she felt in my arms. She was trembling a little, and I thought I heard a sniffle; the idea that I could cause her pain, enough to cry - I felt like shit for that. "Lilly, Jesus, I'm sorry... so sorry. I do care about you, so much. It's just... I was never ready - not for what you needed from me. I couldn't give that to you and I'm damned sorry." I felt her nod against my shoulder and the eyes she raised to me were damp but steadfast. "Fox, don't. We can't pick and choose how and with whom we feel love. God, nobody knows that better than I do! My Gran told me once that in every relationship there is one who loves, and one who is loved. She said equality in love was rarer than the rarest gold and twice as precious. All my life I have been the one who loves, Fox - I have yet to find someone who would let me just be loved." Lilly wiped at her eyes, then placed her fingers along my jaw. "I deserve it, I know that now - I deserve to be loved. To have somebody worship me and want to marry me, have a family with me - somebody wanting it so badly that they'd pass through fire to get to me. It's what we all deserve, Fox - including you." Her fingers pressed gently into my cheek as she continued. "I think you have a real chance of finding it, with Dana. I have a feeling you would have found it long ago, both of you - if you'd opened yourselves up to the possibilities. Maybe you thought you had all the time in the world to fall in love... but as you can see, sometimes a person doesn't know what they have until they almost lose it. I think it took a near-tragedy for you to see the need you both have for each other. And if you'd been a lesser man you would have dumped me long ago when you first realized how you felt. You would have left me in the dust, Fox - and you also have to know that's not who you are." Her challenging stare was impossible to escape and with a sigh, I rested my forehead on her shoulder, acknowledging how right she was. I had tried to make it work with both Lilly and Scully, unable to truly commit to either one of them, and in doing so I had hurt them - both of them. I must have muttered that thought out loud, because Lilly shook her head and stared up at me. "No. You couldn't have known this, Fox - I have only recently learned it myself. You were too close to it to see it, and I only wanted to see my side of it. Live and learn, right?" With that, Lilly slowly disengaged from me and took a step back, and I let her go. I stood before her and felt again that sweetness I always felt when I was around her; felt the way her inner and outer loveliness clung to her, more heady than perfume. Some man was going to be the luckiest bastard alive, someday - when she finally let him discover her. And I found myself stepping close to her and kissing her mouth gently, murmuring those very words to her - and she huffed a small laugh; her retort made me smile. "Damned straight, Mister! He'll be very lucky... and I'm not going to settle for less. Neither are you, right?" Her head tilted to one side as she awaited my answer. I shook my head and walked to her door, keeping an arm around her; giving her one final hug before I left. "No, Lilly - I won't settle, either..." I drove in a sort of daze, all the way home from Lilly's place. I kept running the same words over and over: "I'm not going to settle for less." Those soft words of hers really forced me to acknowledge the way I had put her life on hold during the time she'd spent with me. Oh, I knew Lilly had fallen in love with me soon after we'd begun our relationship. I could feel it every time she touched me, kissed me. And so many times I had wished I could say the words right back to her; I tried to make up for that verbal loss by showing her in physical response how much she had meant to me. But it was never enough, and Lilly's devotion to me really warranted more than just as tender kiss or two. I parked my car and trudged up to my apartment, not bothering with the slow as molasses elevator. I gained my door and let myself in, and plopped down on my old sofa. Leaning my head back, I thought about how much I would miss Lilly. There was no question of remaining friends with her; I knew it would not be good for either of us. A clean break was vital if she were to get on with her life, and if I were to remain fair to her. But, I would miss her, very much. She kept me sane in these past months, kept me from losing my mind over Scully's illness. As I thought about it I understood something I had never seen before... that Lilly had been keeping me sane for Scully. I don't think she knew it but that's exactly what had been going on. I would come to her tense and stressed from any number of horrible cases, or frustrated to the point of agony over Scully - and she would put her arms around me and without saying a word, ease me and calm me. Without her loving care I would never have gotten through the darkest days, when Scully's life hung in the balance and none of us had a clear idea of her survival chances. I dropped my head in my hands and scrubbed hard at my burning eyes. I would miss Lilly, more than I could say - a piece of my heart had stayed behind when I kissed her goodbye and left her. But I had to look forward, now - the same way Lilly would face the future and find that one man who could assure she would be loved. It would be a much better man than I could ever be, this I knew. My agenda had changed, and it now included the one person I would gladly die for... *************** After Fox left I managed to close the door and walk all the way into my bedroom with my head held high - before I collapsed on my bed and buried my face into my pillow. In between hiccuping tears I told myself I had come out on top; that I was the winner and not the loser - that I had maintained strength and balance. But my arms mourned the loss of Fox's warmth and my lips bemoaned the kisses I would never taste again. I wasn't born yesterday - I didn't fool myself into thinking I would enjoy a speedy recovery from this and go on to find the man of my dreams. Yes, I'd done the right thing. I'd been the one to break it off; I'd been the one to do the releasing, for a change. I'd acted more like a woman and less like a moonstruck girl, for the first time in my life. But, oh... it hurt. I'd watched Fox walk away, down the corridor and into the elevator, and he had glanced back once and smiled at me, with a funny little wave-salute. I had smiled back and waved as well - then closed the door on two and a half years of knowing, and loving Fox. It hurt. I rolled myself into a little ball and let the tears come; let the purging begin. Everything I'd been holding inside... I let it out. Anger and remorse and guilt and jealousy - I screamed and cried it all into my pillow, muffling the noise I made because the sensible side of me would not want to get evicted for excessive screeching even as the ranting maniac in me wanted nothing more than to rattle my windows with it. In the end I ranted less than I wanted to and louder than was prudent - and then I staggered to the bathroom to wash my face, and I changed into fresh clothes. I grabbed my purse and locked the door behind me as I left my little sanctuary - and I pointed my car in the direction of the one place I could go to heal the fastest - Gran's. ********************* end of chapter nine ********************* ~ Chapter Ten ~ I had only been at my mother's house for a day or two when Mulder arrived for another of his twice-daily visits. I looked up at the sound of a light tapping on the bedroom door and saw him poke his head into the room. "Hey," he whispered softly as he moved quietly across the carpeted floor to settle on the edge of the narrow twin bed that had been mine growing up. "How do you feel?" he asked. I struggled to sit up, leaning against the pillows mounded against the headboard. "A little better every day," I assured him with a small smile. Mulder smiled back and we lapsed into a strangely awkward silence that was broken only by the jingling sound of Mulder playing with his car keys. I glanced at the black leather jacket he wore. "Why don't you take off your jacket and get comfortable," I suggested but he shook his head and continued to bounce his keys around in his palm until I reached out and covered his hand with mine. "Mulder?" I asked. Something was bothering him. He sighed and shoved the keys deep into the pocket of his jacket and then wrapped his fingers around my hands. "Since your mom is taking such good care of you," he began softly, "I thought I would take a few days and go up to visit my own mother." I was surprised by his announcement. I had grown so accustomed to his near constant presence over these last few weeks. A sudden thought entered my mind and I bit down hard on my lower lip. "I know you probably have some things you need to discuss with her," I said slowly, remembering the awful confrontation he and his mother had gone through only a little more than a month earlier. "Will Lillian be going with you?" I asked. Mulder shook his head and his hands tightened around mine. "Lillian and I..." His voice trailed off for a moment and he quickly looked away from me. "We aren't together anymore," he said simply. His announcement was met with a lot of confusion on my part as well as a soaring feeling of hope. That hope was quickly squashed when I took note of the look of deep sadness etched across his tired features. "What happened?" I asked quietly as I slipped back into the familiar role of friend and confidante. He blew out a frustrated breath and rubbed his thumbs over the backs of my hands. "I don't know," he said on a heavy sigh. He shook his head quickly, denying his own words. "That's not true," he amended. "What happened was that I wasn't paying enough attention to her, to our relationship," he said with a shrug. I pulled one hand free of his and leaned forward. "It's not too late." I forced the words past the huge lump in my throat. "Lillian loves you, Mulder," I told him. I looked around the room and then my gaze settled back on his bent head. "This is my fault," I sighed as I thought about all of the time Mulder had spent with me over the long months of my illness to the detriment of his relationship with Lillian. Mulder instantly began to shake his head in denial of my words. "No, Scully. It's my fault. I..." He lifted his head and met my gaze directly. "I needed to be with you," he told me. "And, I didn't love her enough. I didn't love her the way she deserves to be loved," he sighed and again I saw the look of anguished sadness sweep over his face. I pulled him toward me and slipped my arms around him. "I'm so sorry," I whispered against his cheek. Mulder's arms curled tightly about my waist and I reveled in the warmth of his body and the smoothness of his cheek where it pressed against my own. How nice it would be to stay like this with him, for hours... but too soon, he had pulled away. "I'm going to go away for a few days," he told me. "I need to make things right with my mother." I nodded encouragingly. "How long will you be gone?" I asked in a quiet voice. He shrugged and pushed himself to his feet. "I'm not sure," he said and I craned my head back so that I could see him as he towered over my bed. "So much has changed," he told me as his eyes roved over my face. "A few days, maybe a week. I have a lot of things I need to think about," he admitted. "I need to start making some changes in my life," he added cryptically. Then he leaned down and brushed his lips over my cheek. "I'll call you," he promised. He strode toward the door and wrapped his hand around the old-fashioned glass doorknob. He stopped and turned around, staring at me with a soft smile on his face. I'm not sure what he saw in my eyes, but he walked back to the bed and leaned into me, catching me in another kiss - this one firm and sweet upon my lips. It was over much too soon... He straightened and waggled his eyebrows at me then turned back toward the door, tossing over his shoulder, "You take care of yourself and listen to your mother." His departing smile was crooked as he peeped at me once more, before pulling the door closed behind him. That was almost a week ago. Mulder had kept his promise and we had spoken a few times on the telephone, but the conversations were always brief and mostly filled with idle chatter about how we had spent our day. I was leaning against the headboard, willing the phone to ring when I heard my mother's soft voice calling to me from outside of the door. "Come on in, Mom," I answered. She swung the door open and for once a tray filled with food did not burden her hands. Poor Mom. She'd been walking a tightrope ever since I came to her house to recuperate. Torn between her need to mother and coddle me, and my need to be independent... Of course, this was a long-standing situation between us. Even as a child, I preferred to be left alone when I wasn't feeling well. But this time, I was so weak and tired that I had no choice but to rely on my mother's help. The first few days after I was released from the hospital even the walk from my bedroom to the bathroom was taxing and I had leaned heavily on my mother's arm for assistance. I was getting stronger every day under my Mom's watchful eye. My appetite was slowly returning and she had filled the kitchen with my favorite foods. "How was your nap?" she asked as she settled down on the edge of my bed. Her fingers stroked over my forehead, brushing the hair out of my eyes and I was instantly transported back to my childhood and a time when it was this woman's smiling face that had greeted me each day after I'd awaken from my afternoon nap. "It was good," I said as I stretched my arms over my head. I leaned against the pillows and rolled my head toward her. "I swear Mom, I think I could sleep nonstop if I tried." She laughed softly and straightened the blankets over my legs, then stood and went to the window, opening the blinds to reveal the late day sunlight as it danced through the red and orange leaves of the trees in the yard. "Well, the most important thing right now is lots of rest and good food," she declared authoritatively. "Speaking of which, how would you like to come downstairs and watch some television with me before I start dinner?" I nodded and sat up to slip my feet into the slippers waiting on the floor next to the bed. I followed my mother down the steps and collapsed gratefully onto the sofa cushions in the family room. How was I ever going to get the strength back so that I could return to work? I wondered. My mother was bustling around in the kitchen and this time, the old reliable tray was clasped in her hands when she returned. "I made some tea," she said as she set the tray onto the coffee table. She held out a mug and I took it from her. "Be careful," she warned. "It's hot." I blew across the steaming surface of the tea and picked up the remote control. I was concentrating on surfing through all of the channels provided by Mom's cable company when she lifted a plate toward me. "I bought some Lady Fingers when I was at the supermarket today," she told me. I smiled to myself as I set my mug back down and took one of the little cakes from the plate as I began flipping through the channels again. Mom murmured softly and I stopped channel surfing at her request. We watched Oprah in silence for several minutes, but I was having trouble focusing on the talk show host and her guest... all I could think about was Mulder. "Dana?" My mother called my name and I shook my head for a moment to clear it. "Is something wrong?" she asked. "Is the cake stale?" I glanced down at the small, golden sponge cake that I was still holding and then back at my mother's face. I shook my head again and stuffed one end of the cake between my lips. "No," I mumbled around a mouthful of sponge cake. "It's fine," I told her. "I was just thinking." "About Fox?" she asked. Drat - I could feel a flush steal over my cheeks. And I was taken aback by my mother's keen eye for observation. "I was just surprised that he hasn't called yet," I said by way of an explanation. My mother smiled and laughed softly. "He called earlier," she told me. I frowned and brushed the crumbs from my fingers. "Why didn't you tell me?" I asked. My mother's eyebrows arched at the tone of irritation that bled into my words and I slumped back sullenly against the cushions. How old would I have to be, I wondered, before that look was no longer effective? "Sorry," I muttered, my tone less than contrite. But dammit, I really wanted to talk to him. I chanced another glance at my mother and her eyebrows were still flirting with her hairline. For a moment, I had the irrational thought that if I didn't apologize, her face would freeze that way. I smiled ruefully. "I really am sorry," I said. She smiled and held out the plate of Lady Fingers again. Apology accepted. "You miss him," she said. I toyed with the little cake in my hands and shrugged. "I'm just so used to seeing him every day," I began and even I could hear how pathetic that was as an excuse. I lifted the sponge cake to my lips and nibbled nervously on one end. My mother was not fooled by my studied nonchalance, and stared me down with little effort. "You're in love with him," she stated quietly and once again I was startled by her shrewdness. I don't know why. She's remarkably astute. That's one of the reasons why I stay away from her when there is something I don't want her to know... the way I did when I was first diagnosed with my cancer. "I... I..." Stammering nervously, I began to pick the cake apart. My mother's hand settled over mine and she took the mangled dessert away from me. "It's all right, Dana," she told me. "I've known for a very long time." I looked up at her sharply. How could she have known when I only just realized it myself a few months ago... She smiled knowingly and twined the fingers of one hand with mine. "I've suspected ever since the first time I saw you together, but I knew for sure when you agreed to have that thing put into your neck." Her fingers let go of mine and drifted over the tiny scar on the back of my neck. "I saw the look of confidence and acceptance on your face when he presented the chip to you." I nodded and miserably knuckled a tear away from my eyes. "Why does that make you sad?" she asked me. I turned to face her and one look into her kind and beloved face had the tears brimming over my lashes and spilling down my cheeks. She instantly gathered me into her arms and rocked me back and forth. I inhaled the mingled fragrances of Ivory soap and Chanel No. 5 that was my mother and sought refuge in her embrace. "I'm so confused... I do love him and I don't know what to do about it," I said on a hitching breath. Mom rubbed her hands over my back in a soothing motion. "Why don't you just tell him?" she asked as if that was the most natural thing for me to do. I laughed wetly against her neck. "I can't, Mom," I said on a ragged breath. "I... we have to work together. What if he doesn't... I could never look at him..." My voice trailed off helplessly as I stumbled over my litany of reasons for keeping my feelings a secret. "What if he doesn't love you back?" my mother asked, putting into words one of my deepest fears. I nodded and bit off another sob. God! When did I become such an emotional mess, I wondered. I've cried more in the last six months than I have cried in my entire life. "Dana." My mother framed my face between her hands and her voice was stern, yet tender at the same time. "If there is one lesson you should have learned from everything that has happened to you, it is that life is short." She leaned closer to me and rested her forehead against mine. "Don't waste any more time," she told me as she dropped a kiss onto the tip of my nose. Her eyes regarded me with tender mother-love, then she brushed another soft kiss to my cheek close to my ear. Her low voice soothed and reassured me. "Have some faith, Dana," she whispered. "Everything will work out." ********************* I stood on the deck and sipped at my hot coffee, enjoying the feel of its steam on my face and the heat from the mug warming my fingers, on this cold and damp autumn morning. Early-morning October in New England was always something to see; the sun barely breaking over the horizon and the deep silence of another day interrupted only by an occasional bird chirp or dog bark. The coffee was thick and black, the way I used to drink it in college when I'd inhaled it, to keep me awake during killer study marathons. The only way my mother knew how to make it, as well... As if my thoughts could conjure her this early in the day, she appeared behind me, a hand on my back signifying her presence. I turned and held out an arm, which she slipped under, hugging my side. A companionable silence stretched between us, not awkward in the least - a big improvement over the lack of communication in our pasts. To say my mother had been surprised to see me was a bit of an understatement - she was shocked. I never called her first; I just showed up on her doorstep several days after Scully went to stay with her mom. I'd had some fence mending to do - that's what I'd mumbled to her when she'd opened the door and saw me standing there with the collar of my jacket turned up around my ears and my hands shoved into the pockets of my oldest jeans. Her face had shown some confusion, but she'd waved me into the house, taking my jacket and placing it on the hall table, before turning back to me and repeating my mumble. "Fence mending, Fox? I don't follow you." I'd stared down at her with misery, and had reached out a hand to touch her shoulder. "Mom... the last time I saw you I accused you of some terrible things. I can't even begin to apologize for what I said to you..." I could see the memory of that day in my mother's eyes and she sighed, moving closer to me and placing her hand against the cheek she'd slapped when those words had popped out of my mouth. "Oh, Fox. Do you think I didn't know what sort of pressure you were under, when you said that to me? And I hit you... No mother wants to treat her children that way. I am sorry as well." We'd hugged and both of us had cried a little - and we'd made a decent effort at staring the mending of that busted-up fence. As the days went on I found myself getting re-acquainted with my mother, and it was wonderful, for both of us. We took walks and ate lunch every day on the deck regardless of the chill factor. We talked, a lot - about all sorts of things. We even talked a little about Samantha. And we talked about Scully, and the stress and pain of her illness. Of course I was missing Scully horribly but both of us needed this time to ourselves. Scully was receiving massive doses of tender mom-care; I had spoken to Maggie Scully once and she'd assured me that my partner was behaving herself. "Yes, Fox - I promise you Dana is doing everything the doctors told her. She's getting lots of rest and taking vitamin supplements, and her appetite has improved greatly. She goes for a short walk every morning even though she still tires very quickly. I'm taking her for a check-up this afternoon." Her reassuring words put a big smile on my face and I'd thanked her profusely for letting me know. Scully had still been asleep when I'd called but I had spoken to her the day before, and although our conversation had been brief I had come away from it feeling so much better about our future, both personal and professional. My mother had entered the room just as I'd hung up from speaking to Maggie Scully, and at her inquiring look I had told her about the conversation. Mom had smiled and sat down next to me on the sofa, and patted my hand. "I'm so glad she's going to be all right, Fox. I know how much she means to you." That comment had surprised me and my face must have shown it, because my mother smiled again and squeezed my hand. "I may be getting older and need glasses, but I'm not blind, Dear! Your feelings for Dana have always been fairly obvious to me. I used to wonder if you would ever become more than partners, for the caring between you was always a tangible thing. I guess that's why I seemed so cool and distant around Lillian... I suppose I couldn't understand why you were with her when you could be with Dana. Close your jaw, Fox..." For my mouth had dropped open at her soft words. I managed to snap my teeth together as brief flashes of that last visit here, with Lilly, came to the forefront of my memory. My mother had been cool, to say the least - actually she had bordered on impolite. I never could figure out why; I had made some sort of vague excuse to Lilly centering around my mother's menopausal tendencies. As soon as I remembered that excuse on her behalf, Mom's next remark floored me anew. "I suppose you told Lillian I was suffering from menopause... Oh, you did, didn't you! Lord, Son!" She'd seen the sheepish look on my face, and had tinkled out a delighted laugh, before impulsively reaching out and hugging me. I'd hugged back, and then clung to her like a little boy, soaking in the comforting feel of her arms and the powdery scent of her rosewater talc. Mom had rubbed my back and her chuckle was rich in my ear. "It's okay, Fox - I don't mind. Really, I don't. Truth be told, I am sure menopause may have been responsible for some of my attitude at that time. But part of it was my feeling that you were just settling, Fox - and nobody should ever, ever have to settle." Mom had pulled away a little and had looked into my eyes - and for a moment I saw a cloud pass over hers - a memory of something in her past that I was sure she would never share with me. I suddenly knew with certainty that she was speaking from experience... and I also knew she wouldn't tell me more. My eyes must have revealed some bit of sympathy, for she shook her finger in my face and her tone was bracing and firm. "No, we are NOT going to go there. It's in the past, Son - and that's where it will stay. You came here to heal a bit, I think - to clear your mind and regain a little of what you think you may have lost, between us. But Fox," she framed my face in her warm hands and stared into my damp eyes, "Though we may have had our differences in the past I want you to know there was never a moment when I blamed you, for anything - and I have always loved you, so much. I have always wanted the best for you. Your friend Lillian was not the best, for you. But Dana is, Fox - she is. Don't waste any more time." My mother had sighed and the smile on her face slipped just a little as she added, "It's a precious thing, this life we are given - very few people make the most of it. I never did - and I would like to think I raised you to be a lot smarter than me." I remembered that illuminating conversation between Mom and me, as I stood on the deck and snuggled her under my arm while we both sipped strong black coffee. I looked down at my mother and marveled at what a lovely woman she was; how pretty she looked with the wind blowing through her soft white hair and the rosy cheeks which owed nothing to artifice. In her youth Mom had been breathtaking - and age had blurred her edges somewhat but had rendered her no less beautiful. I hugged her to me and pressed a kiss on her forehead, and Mom hugged me back, then looked up into my face with gentle, knowing eyes. "You're ready to head back soon, aren't you? It's been well over a week... I'd say it's now or never, Son. Dana has had some time to think things over, and so have you. I know you're not completely sure how she feels about you... but personally I think you have nothing to worry about." Moving out from under my arm, Mom took my free hand and led me back into the warmth of the kitchen, dumping our empty mugs in the sink. We walked into the living room together and I faced this wonderful woman who had given birth to me and had lived through the most difficult and painful times; who'd always been generous with her advice and who'd loved me even though at times I'd felt that no one cared. She wasn't an easy woman to understand, but for the first time in a lot of years I felt that our relationship was healthy and more whole than it had ever been. I wound my arms around her and buried my face into her silky hair and murmured, "I love you so much, Mom." Her return embrace was fierce and lasted a long time, as she whispered to me in a raspy little voice. "I love you too, Fox. Now, let's get you home and started on your new and improved life... okay?" "Okay..." ******************* ~ Chapter Eleven ~ Three days ago I had re-declared my independence when I left my mother's home to return to my own. Of course, I didn't come home empty-handed. My freezer was crammed with at least a dozen plastic containers filled with Mom's home cooking. I had fallen asleep on the sofa and awoke a couple of hours later to find the late afternoon sun slanting through the windows. Flipping through a magazine I was idly trying to decide whether or not I wanted to heat up some of Mom's meat sauce in the microwave to have as a late lunch when I was startled by a soft knocking on my door. Mulder. He'd been in Connecticut for almost two weeks. When we spoke on the telephone yesterday, he had not mentioned that he would be home today. But I knew that knock and I knew he was standing on the other side of the door. My stomach was churning nervously and as I walked toward the door, I silently chided myself for my foolishness. This man had been my partner and best friend for five years now, I reminded myself. Taking a calming breath, I swung the door open to find him lounging against the door frame. Black jeans, white T-shirt, black leather jacket. God... The nerves were back. His eyes roamed over my face for a long moment, as if he was trying to memorize the way I looked - then that intense gaze slid down over the soft flannel pajamas I was wearing, lingering on my bare feet until my toes curled into the carpeting. Slowly his eyes traveled back up to my face. "Hi," he murmured. I took a step back to allow him to move through the open doorway. "Hi," I said back. My heart was pounding; in that moment I despaired of ever being able to act normally around him again. Mulder nudged the door with his foot and as it swung shut he stepped so close to me that our bodies were almost touching. I had to tip my head all the way back so that I could see him. Right into my personal space, as usual... I didn't mind at all. Mulder leaned down into me and for a second, I thought he was going to kiss me. My heart began to thud even harder than before. Instead, he banded his arms around my hips and lifted me from the floor. I wanted to wrap my legs around his waist and tangle my fingers in his thick hair, but I did neither, worried it would be construed as a bit too aggressive. Instead I twined my arms about his neck and buried my face under his chin, seeking some kind of reassurance. Slowly he swung me back and forth, holding me very close. We said nothing during those long moments of our embrace; I felt my racing heart slow and my nervousness disappear within the circle of his arms. When I felt his grip on me shift, I leaned back so I could see into his face. His eyes searched every inch of me and for the second time, I was struck by the intensity of his gaze. I opened my mouth and pulled in a deep lungful of air but as my lips began to form his name he shook his head and lowered me back to the floor. "Shhh," he whispered... and when he leaned toward me again, I knew this time he was going to kiss me. I watched him move closer and my eyelids fluttered shut at the first soft touch of his mouth on mine. My breath escaped me on a tiny sigh as he caught my upper lip between his. I felt his fingers tighten on my hips as our mouths made contact and I let my hands slide away from his neck to settle on the sleeves of his leather jacket. Mulder's lips were as warm as I'd remembered; I hadn't realized how much I'd longed for them until he rubbed his mouth lightly, teasingly over mine. My breath caught in my throat when he moved his attentions to my lower lip, his mouth gently tugging. I trembled and pressed closer to him. Abandoning my mouth to bury his lips against the sensitive flesh below my ear, his caress was already causing havoc and he'd barely begun... I tried to gather my scattered thoughts. "Mulder," I pleaded. He shook his head and quickly moved back to cover my lips with his own. Once again I lost myself in him, feeling my lips part when his tongue touched the corner of my mouth; I moaned softly, encouragingly. But he seemed determined to take his time. Time, I thought. Maybe we should take more time. I must have said it out loud, because he slid his mouth up to my forehead and formed a smile there. "Don't you think five years is long enough?" he rumbled against my temple. His fingers were slowly, gently stroking the soft flannel covering my hips; his touch, combined with the low timbre of his voice caused me to nestle my hips closer to his. It had been so long... too long. I didn't want to think anymore, I just wanted to feel. Feel his lips moving over mine, feel the strength of his arms wrapped around me. Feel the tiny tremors wracking his frame every time I responded to his advances. But yet, I had to know. My feelings for him were overwhelming and I had to be certain his feelings for me were more than just a reaction to the grief and anguish he'd suffered through my illness - or a joyful celebration of my miraculous recovery. The low rasp in my ear confirmed it. "I don't want to wait any longer." At those words my heart began to pound and I turned my head, instinctively seeking his mouth. "I don't want to wait either," I whispered against his lips. "But you spent almost three of those years with Lillian..." He sighed in acknowledgment of my words and framed my face between his hands. His hazel eyes were openly honest. "I wanted to love her," he admitted. "But I didn't. I couldn't." His thumbs were sweeping across my cheekbones as he spoke. "Lilly is a wonderful person and she's everything I ever thought I wanted," he sighed softly. "But what I've learned - what I know - is that I was put on this earth to love you, Scully." The line of his mouth was solemn but the corners of his eyes crinkled in a tiny smile. He whispered, so softly I had to strain to hear him. "I almost lost you," the words were hushed and reverent. "And it was killing me." His eyes fastened on mine and I couldn't look away. "I love you, Scully," he vowed. "I could never commit to Lillian or any other woman, because you are the only person I want to be with." His shoulders lifted in a shrug but his eyes were beseeching me to accept his words... to return his love. Oh, Mulder... I could feel the sting of tears behind my half-closed lids; his emotional declaration just undid me. I cupped my hand around the back of his neck and let my fingers sink in the thick softness of his hair as I rose up on my toes and sought his mouth, this time with that aggression I'd squelched earlier. "I love you," I whispered into his mouth a second before my kiss deepened; his breath caught on a gasp, inhaling my words, drawing them deep inside. Breaking our kiss, his arms wrapped around my hips and again he lifted me from the floor. This time I let myself go, smiling when I wrapped my legs around his waist and fisted my hands in his hair. This time, when our lips met, I felt the probe of his tongue as he outlined the curve of my lips. He tried to seal his mouth over mine, but I resisted, suddenly playful; I licked my own tongue along the satiny lining of his lower lip, where I thought he might be sensitive. Apparently I had chosen well... "Scully," he moaned. "Please..." His arms tightened convulsively around me and his mouth closed possessively over mine. Oh God, I thought - what did I ever do to deserve this? A miracle bringing me back from the brink of death... wasn't that more than any person could ask for? And now... this man was here in my home, in my arms - where I'd wanted him to be... he was telling me that he loved me, the way I'd prayed he'd do. Not only that... he was showing me that he loved me. I felt tears prick the back of my eyes. How lucky I was... When his tongue swept into my mouth all rational thought fled. I couldn't think... I could only feel. This, I remembered; it had been the heady stuff of many a dream when I'd lain in my hospital bed counting the hours remaining of my life. The press of his arms around my hips - the hardness of his muscled stomach between my legs... The silky feel of his tongue as he explored my mouth, flicking over the soft skin lining my cheeks, scraping along the row of my teeth. Too long, I'd wanted this - I moaned to him as I stroked my own tongue against his, feeling a shudder rock through him. "God... it's been too long, Mulder..." His shaky reply melted me right into his skin. "I know, baby... Jesus. I know." My hands slipped from his hair to his shoulders and I buried my fingers in the soft leather of his jacket. Skin; I had to have his skin. "Mulder," I muttered against his mouth, "take off your coat." I pushed ineffectually against the leather covering his torso and he shrugged his shoulders, trying to help me, but my legs were wrapped around his waist and his big hands were cupping my bottom, hampering our efforts. At his smothered groan I reluctantly loosened the vice- like grip of my legs around him and managed to reach the carpet with my toes. Mulder's lips blindly sought mine as we hurriedly pushed his jacket to the floor, as unwilling as I was to let go even for a second. Winding an arm around my waist, he drew me closer as we broke the passionate kiss. His free hand stroked over my hair in a familiar rhythm as we both tried to control our breathing. Mulder looked across the room as if undecided, then attempted to lead me to the sofa. I dug my toes into the carpet and shook my head. I wanted it to be just right... I looked over my shoulder and grasped his hand, urging him toward my bedroom. Mulder lifted his eyes to follow the direction of my gaze and then he looked down at me questioningly. "Are you sure?" he asked gently. I nodded and lifted his hand to my mouth. "I don't want to wait any longer," I said, repeating the words he had spoken only moments earlier. He smiled and his lips brushed over my nose; my head fell back under his tender caress. We intertwined our hands again, Mulder walking just behind me as we moved into my bedroom. When we reached the open doorway, he stopped and pulled me back into his arms. I met his heated stare, feeling suddenly unsure again. Was it really going to happen, this time? I suppose I needed more reassurance. My eyes pleaded with him. "Kiss me," I said, begging for - demanding the feel of his mouth again. "Kiss me so I know this is really happening." My hands linked behind his head and I strained up on my toes to reach him. Mouths joined, arms clamped around each other, bodies pressed close, Mulder stepped forward as I backed across the room. My legs bumped into the bed; scrambling backwards I moved toward the mound of pillows at the headboard and Mulder followed me on hands and knees. Predatory, stalking - urgent. I found myself breaking out into a hot flush, wondering if I would survive the burn I saw in his darkened eyes. God, I hoped so... I lay back against the pillows and Mulder stretched out next to me. Propped up on one elbow, he stroked his hand from the crown of my head to the top of my thigh. I rolled onto my side, seeking more of him; shuddering as his fingers slipped below the elastic waistband of my pajamas. The tiny hairs on my body stood on end when he trailed his nails over the small of my back. I grabbed hold of his soft tee shirt and hung on. His fingers slipped out of my pajama bottoms and he closed his hand gently around my throat, tilting my face up to his. He sketched a path down my throat and he was still holding my gaze with his own when his fingers popped open the first button of my pajama top. I licked my lips and drew in an unsteady breath as he carefully slid the second button free of its hole. His hand stole inside the opening he had created, brushing his knuckles between my breasts as he moved to unbutton the rest of my shirt. I couldn't stop shivering. Mulder's strong fingers closed around the open edges of my shirt and tried to push it from my shoulders - but I was suddenly aware of the sunlight spilling over the bed. I found myself wishing for the cover of darkness, knowing with a sinking ego the inadequacies of my own body. Under my mother's watchful eye, I had gained back a few of the pounds that I'd lost over my long illness, but I was abruptly reminded of all of the changes in me. I thought of my ribcage visible through the skin stretched tightly over it... of the new bras I had purchased in a smaller size than I normally wore. I wanted to be beautiful for the man I loved. I wanted my breasts to fill his palms and I wanted his hand to skim over the rounded smoothness of my hips. I stayed Mulder's hands, sliding my own under his T-shirt. Pushing the soft cotton up his chest... tugging it over his head; letting it float to the floor next to the bed. I had settled my palms against his warm skin when Mulder again pulled at the collar of my pajama top. I looked at him and shook my head, fighting the tears swelling under my lids. His eyes were soft and compelling. "I want to see you," he said huskily. I folded the edges of my pajamas over my breasts and held it closed with my fist, unprepared to reveal myself. I had never felt so insecure in my life. "No, Mulder," I pleaded. "I look..." I breathed in deeply. "I look awful," I told him honestly. Mulder rubbed his fingers over the hem of my shirt and eyed me thoughtfully, then gave me a tiny negative shake of his head. "Nah," he said. "Never - not my Scully... you're beautiful." But I knew that he understood and accepted that my painfully thin body embarrassed me, when his fingers eased beneath my shirt to lightly caress my stomach - content for the moment to touch without seeing. I heaved a sigh of relief, feeling myself relax a little. Once again, I lay back against the pillows and this time Mulder stretched his body over mine, pushing me into the rumpled bedcovers. The weight of him along my body felt amazing... He propped himself on his elbows and slid his hands under my head, holding me steady for his lingering kiss. With the pressure lifted of having to undress completely, I could enjoy his attentions and respond with abandon. My tongue curled around his and we trading kiss after lazy kiss as the dust motes danced in the sun streaming over us. I felt his breathing quicken when I arched my hips into his, my own breath escaping me in a gasp as his mouth settled into the damp hollow at the base of my throat. His tongue darted out and he traced a careful pattern over my flesh. "Mulder... Mulder..." I whispered his name over and over while he trailed his lips over my collarbone. Nudging the edges of my pajamas aside with his nose, his mouth moved onto the upper swell of my breast. And when Mulder's exploration caused the left side of my pajamas to fall away from my body, I let it. I knew it was silly, but I found a sense of confidence in allowing him glimpses of my body while still hiding behind the security of warm flannel. His knuckles brushed over my other breast, teasing the nipple into hardness and stroking over the soft skin on the underside. When his lips closed delicately over me I gasped and sank my fingers into his hair, holding him close as he licked and nibbled my tender flesh. He pressed a final gentle kiss into the tip of my breast and then dragged his tongue between them. Rising up on his elbow Mulder studied the glistening wetness left on my skin from his kisses. His fingers skated down the quivering flesh of my abdomen and tangled in the waistband of my pajama bottoms, now urgent. His head moved down to rest against my waist and his command was muffled in the flannel covering my stomach. "Lift your hips," he murmured; trembling, I obeyed. He skimmed the soft flannel down my legs and tossed it over the side of the bed to join his T-shirt on the floor. His mouth was roving over my stomach, placing careful kisses on my hipbones as his hands slid behind my thighs. My breath caught in my throat and burst out in a trembling gasp when I felt the damp heat of his breath between my legs. His tongue slipped out to touch me through the cotton barrier... I wound my fingers into his hair as his mouth moved over me in the softest of kisses. Even with the material of my panties separating us, I had never felt anything so wonderful... Trembling, I pulled at his shoulders until he finally lifted his head. Locking my eyes on his, I cupped his shoulders between my hands and pulled him toward me, running my hands over his bare flesh, tracing the biceps that were bulging under the weight of his body. When I pushed against his shoulders Mulder rolled onto his back, pulling me along with him until I was sprawled out over his long body... We were both out of breath, his hitching under the cheek I rested over his thundering heart. I stayed there until I felt our pulses slow to a normal rate. "Do you believe that love can heal?" I whispered as my fingers toyed with the sparse hair sprinkled over his chest. I could sense his surprise at my words; I pushed myself up and sat back on his thighs, regarding him seriously. "I believe it," I told him. I twined my fingers with his trying to put my thoughts into words while he carefully watched my face. "This chip..." I lifted one hand to the back of my neck. "This chip may be the scientific explanation for my remission," I murmured. "But, Mulder, it was love that led you to find it... for me. And it was love that made me take a chance on it... for you." He drew in a breath and blinked at me when I leaned forward to kiss away the tear that was slowly tracking its way down his cheek. I stayed there a moment longer... "That's the real miracle, Mulder," I whispered against his skin, adding, "I love you." My mouth spoke the words but my hands told him as well, moving to the silver button of his jeans; popping it open - closing thumb and forefinger around the metal tab of the zipper. Mulder's hand covered mine and together we carefully slid the zipper down its track. He lifted his hips at my silent urging and I wiggled the worn denim down his legs, taking a layer of shorts, socks and sneakers with them. I could only stare at what I'd revealed, seeing the familiar planes of his body but in a way I'd never known before. So beautiful, this aroused male reclining against my pillows... "Come back," he said in a low voice; eagerly I crawled toward him, draping myself over his body. Now it was my lips that traced a path down his chest, my tongue that curled over the pebbled hardness of the nipples hiding in his chest hair - and it was he who shivered and sighed my name as I let my lips and tongue and hands worship his body. And his flesh tasted so good under my lips and tongue - his body felt so right under my hands. "Mulder, I don't want to waste any more time," I sighed into the hair-roughened flesh of his belly. Suddenly, I wanted to pour my heart out to him. "What I learned over the last few months is that life is precious and that you are the most precious thing in my life. I won't take that for granted again," I vowed. "Neither will I, Scully - I promise you. Please... I can't wait any longer." The hunger on his face... it was eating me alive. He hooked his hands into the waistband of my cotton panties, dragging them off in one smooth jerk. Still clad in my pajama top, I set my hands down on Mulder's chest and rose over him. As he locked his fingers on my hips his eyes fastened on mine. Drawing in a deep breath, I took him into my body. Slowly... slowly, his flesh pierced mine. My tongue darted out to wet suddenly dry lips. It felt wonderful... Mulder's head rose from the pillow and he closed his mouth over mine, his tongue slipping moistly between my lips, nourishing me, filling me even as he lifted his hips to slide deeper into me. He fell back and I followed him down, drawing his lower lip between mine, worrying the line of his teeth with my tongue. When we broke apart his lips closed over my neck, against the gold cross nestled in the hollow of my throat. The tender gesture tore at my heart and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, my fingers twining into his hair. Never had anything felt so good... so right. I wanted more - I was eager for more. More of this man entwined around me, within me. Filling me in all of the places that had been so empty and so lonely... lonely for him, I realized. Only him. Setting a languid, lazy pace, I rose and fell on him, allowing every small sensation to bathe me as he pressed within my body. Deep, then deeper... soft yet hard, the thrusts we gave to each other. I wanted it to last forever... Mulder's hands stole under my shirt to skim over the damp skin of my shoulders, causing me to arch under his touch. I rocked over him, picking up the pace as the tension built and grew. His breathing was harsh and he buried his face against my neck. I curled my fingers around his shoulders and began to move over him with more speed and deeper motions. I could feel my orgasm building and building - just out of reach - and Mulder was gasping my name with every downward thrust of my body. I could tell he was close, but my legs were trembling and my heart was pounding so hard - out of control. I was panting, unable to draw a deep breath. "Scully," he groaned as he ground his hips into mine. "God, Scully... I'm gonna... are you..?" He fought to hold steady as he waited for me. I was sobbing with every breath, desperately reaching for completion, but my body betrayed me. Still so weak and tired - my movements were growing clumsy and disjointed. "I can't," I finally gasped as I slumped against him. "I'm sorry," I sobbed. "I just... I can't." I buried my face against his sweaty shoulder and beat my fists against the mattress in frustration. Mulder ran his hands in big sweeping motions over my back, calming me, soothing me, even as his heart continued to thunder against my chest and even as his hips pulsed involuntarily into me. He set his hands onto my hips and held on gently as he pulled away from me; I whimpered at the long, wet slide of his body from mine and clutched him tightly in my arms. His penis lay heavy and hot against my stomach, his breath catching in his throat as he fought to calm himself. "Gimme a minute," he groaned. My eyes teared up at the strain I could hear in his husky voice. I curled myself into a little ball atop his body and buried my face in his neck. "I'm so sorry. I'm just too... tired," I admitted in defeat. Mulder shook his head and held me close. "Don't be sorry," he replied softly. "We've got all the time in the world." His fingers gently pushed the damp hair from my face, lingering against my wet cheeks. The love in his tone brought a trembling smile to my lips. I turned my mouth into his palm and placed a kiss there. "Okay." ****************** In the silence of her room Scully lay on me and fought to catch her breath, and I struggled to get my own needs under control, enough to give her the time she needed. Maybe she was pushing it; I think we both were. Her small body was feather-light on my chest, solid evidence of the weight she had lost. I soothed my hands over her flannel-covered back, feeling the dampness of perspiration there. She had expended more energy than she'd had to sacrifice, I knew. I gently slid my hands underneath her top and started to ease it from her body, and Scully tensed. "No... please, Mulder. I'm not... my body..." I shushed her halting words and continued to pull carefully at her top, until I had worked it from her shoulders. I tossed it to the floor and pressed her bare torso down against mine, adoring the way her baby soft skin felt. I walked my fingers up her sides and refused to count those birdlike ribs, choosing instead to focus on how perfect Scully felt in my arms - remembering anew my awe at discovering that she loved me the way I loved her. I could feel her trembling and the face she had buried in my neck was no doubt flushed pink. I couldn't pretend to understand why she would think I'd care how her body looked right now, when all that mattered was the fact that she'd beaten terrible odds and had come back to me. That's what was important; that's what was priceless to me. I kept my touch soothing and adoring, determined to make her understand. "Shh, Scully... listen. Listen to your heart beating; can you hear it? Your heart - beating in your sweet chest; it means you're alive, Scully. In my arms and alive and safe and so, so loved. You could never be anything less than perfect to me... never. I'm holding my universe, right here - right now. It's exactly what I want and everything I need." She stared down into my eyes with tears standing in her pretty eyes, and when my voice rumbled to a stop and I pressed a kiss into her throat she swallowed against my mouth and her small sob fluttered on my lips. "Oh, Mulder... it means so much to me that you think that way. I don't know what to say - what to do..." I smiled against her throat and pressed a final kiss there, then carefully I eased our positions until she lay beneath me. The few minutes of rest had calmed me enough that I could now last longer, and I think Scully just needed a great deal of patience and lots of tender loving care. It was my pleasure and privilege to give her both... My words of adoration were whispered right into her mouth in the hopes they'd reach her soul in the most expedient manner. "You don't have to say anything, baby. You don't have to do anything more strenuous than to relax, and let me take care of you - let me show you." I brushed the damp tangled hair from her eyes and whispered to her to close each one, waiting until she obeyed. As soon as she had relaxed, I leaned over her and let one hand trace a tender path over her, caressing skin so soft my hand seemed to melt into her. My mouth followed my hand and scattered random kisses over her shoulders and down her arms. And as I kissed, I told Scully what was in my heart. "Did I ever tell you how soft you are, Scully? How utterly silky and soft. I used to yearn to touch you this way - learning your skin; acquainting myself with every inch of you. I used to yearn all the time." I opened my mouth over one dainty nipple and felt a shudder rock her frame as I kissed her there. Sipping at the tender skin and re-learning her, now without any barrier of clothing between us. And I scolded her softly, "Never hide yourself from me, for any reason, Scully... don't you know how exquisite you are... how much I adore you?" I stared down into her eyes, willing her to accept and to believe. When her bottom lip trembled into a tiny smile, I knew she was beginning to see my viewpoint. I sighed against the slope of her breast and pressed her down into the bed-sheets, taking my own sweet time with Scully. Gently, so gently... I found myself loving the slowness of it, the prolonged re-building of desire. The sunlight streaming in the bedroom window cast her face into a thing of such pure beauty, the translucence of her flawless skin played up by the bright day. On the pillow her hair skeined out in a red tangle; I lifted a handful of it to my face and rubbed my cheek on it - and heard her actually purr. God... I'd made Scully purr. I loved the way she reacted to me but I was determined to make her growl, and scream - preferably my name. I had decided that nothing less would satisfy me... I abandoned her hair and kissed my way down over her delicate ribs and tiny waist until I reached hipbones that jutted a little too much, from the weight she'd lost. I stroked those sharp little bones with reverent fingers; they were Scully's hips... and they were just right for me. I slipped my hands under her thighs and eased them apart, my entire body tightening at the easy way she opened for me. And I leaned my cheek against her soft, damp curls and rested there, sighing into her skin when her fingers twined themselves into my hair and held me. I could rest there forever, I thought; rest my face against the very heart of my lover. I turned my head a little and found my lips were in the best position to kiss her, deeply. Where I'd wanted to kiss, for so very long - Scully shivered. Under my tongue she shivered and sighed and moaned... and when I sent one tiny nip into her taut flesh she arched off the bed and her sob was thick and raw. "Mulder... God! Don't stop. Please..." I nodded and let my tongue burrow deep; driving her further and harder, wanting her to be on the absolute edge when I finally covered her body with mine and thrust all the way home. It didn't take very much; Scully had been riding that cliff long enough and she was ready for me when I released her and moved up her body, between her thighs and positioning myself to slip inside. I pushed my hands under her shoulders and locked my mouth to hers, as her body absorbed me once more. I took my time and eased myself inside, and the way she surrounded me was the closest to heaven I think I'd ever come. Sweet... Jesus, so sweet. At this slow a pace I could feel her clinging to every inch, bathing me in her loving heat. It was amazing the way we fit each other. When I had filled her completely, I held very still for a moment, loathe to move. She felt so good... who needed to move? I leaned over her on my forearms and my hands cradled her head as I groaned out those very words. "So good, Scully - you feel so good..." I left my eyes open as I kissed her and so did she as she kissed me back, and I adored the way she curled her tongue over mine and left no corner of my mouth neglected. I began a careful, slow thrust and she held on, trembling, trying to match my movements. I urged, "No, Scully, shh, stay still, 'kay? Let me - I wanna do it all, for you... let me." She nodded and relaxed her legs. Her head fell back into the pillows and those blue eyes burned into mine as I made slow love to her. If on some future day I was ever asked to describe loving Dana Scully I would find myself able to utter one word only... perfection. The easy slowness of our joining enabled me to experience every nuance of flesh within flesh; it was incredible. The velvet clasp of her all around me, the way her hands pressed fiercely into my back and the broken sighs that echoed in my ear as I slipped deeper - Perfect. To think I might never have known this, if I'd lost her... the mere thought of it made me choke with emotion and I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat. I buried my face into her neck and opened my mouth against the pulse that beat strongly, proclaiming her a survivor - and as my movements intensified and I felt the delicious pressure build, I pushed a hand between us and touched her gently, rubbing tenderly... groaning when she suddenly clenched hard as her orgasm took her over. Her low scream was sweet to hear; a soft sound but most definitely a scream. I felt absurdly proud to know I'd made her scream, however softly... I covered her mouth with mine and drank that sound right in. As the last of her shudders ebbed I felt my own beginning... unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. As if it was my first time - intense and aching, almost painful... almost enough to make me lose consciousness. It lasted forever and it was way too short - and I knew I'd never be satisfied with anything else. It had to be Scully... only she could give this wondrous experience to me. It had always been her, always. "Oh, Scully oh Jesus love you love you..." Long minutes later I became aware enough to realize that I had collapsed against her and most of my weight was crushing her into the mattress. Every muscle in my body felt strung out from the force of my climax and I could barely move. I managed to slide sideways, enough to afford Scully some breathing room; I turned us both on our sides and pressed her close, still joined with her. I watched her lift eyes gone heavy with sudden weariness; saw the love shining from them - and was humbled by it. We shared kisses of such tenderness, gentle touches from lips already swollen from an abundance of the passion we'd shared just minutes before. Scully's heart pounded against me, proof that she'd probably overdone it. I felt my own heart thudding in response and I took several deep breaths as I cuddled her closer. She sighed into my shoulder, then yawned sleepily. "Sorry... sleepy. I feel so good, though... warm. Loved. And it's been a long, long time since I've felt this loved, Mulder - this cherished... in fact, this may be a first, in a way - for me." Her voice trailed off into a tiny mumble as she yawned again. I smiled against her hair and put a hand underneath her chin, lifting her face for my kiss. She tasted delicious. I kissed her deeply, my tongue gliding inside her mouth with languid thoroughness, as we lay entwined on the rumpled sheets. Finally I pulled away and kissed each of her eyelids closed. "Sleep, Scully - you need to rest. Just lay here in my arms and let yourself drift, okay? I'm not going anywhere." Her drowsy retort made me chuckle, even as the tightening of her narrow center made me groan a second later. "Damn straight you're not going anywhere, Mulder... I've got you trapped. Stay inside, kay? Stay there, while we sleep. I like the way it feels." I nodded and maneuvered us into a more comfortable position. As her body grew limp in my embrace and her breathing deepened in slumber I ran my fingers rhythmically through her hair, soothing us both. My eyes were growing so heavy but I didn't want to waste a minute sleeping while I was holding her - didn't want to miss out on a thing. Finally I couldn't stay awake any longer and I let myself relax as well; let myself doze. Before sleep took me over completely I managed to pull part of the bedclothes over us, cocooning us in warmth. I whispered my adoration into her ear and she mumbled in reply an almost-incoherent, "Love you back, so much..." Sated through and replete with the emotions we'd shared, Scully and I slept. **************** ~ Epilogue ~ Three Months Later I crammed the coffee mug into the bottom of the cardboard box and pulled open the center drawer of my desk. Digging through the pens and paper clips, business cards and other office paraphernalia, I threw some things into the box and others into the overflowing trash can beside me. I stuffed my hand into the drawer and rooted around, pulling toward me all of the items that had been shoved into the back. I crumbled up several old receipts with one hand and tossed them as well. Tugging at a small pile of papers that were caught in the corner of the drawer, I started to sort through them, scanning each page before throwing it away. I stopped near the bottom of the pile and sank down into my seat, holding out an object that had caught my attention. It was a photograph - taken of Fox and me by a photographer at the small dinner club where he'd taken me dancing on our weekend trip to Boston to celebrate my thirtieth birthday. I drew in a ragged breath as my fingers traced over our images in a happier time, captured on film forever. I remembered that the photographer had stopped at our table only moments after we had returned to our seats from the dance floor. Fox was tipping a bottle of champagne toward my empty glass and I was smiling up at him. Even in this profile shot, the sheer look of love and joy on my face was evident. Fox's face was more sedate, his expression one of deep affection... so at odds with the adoration on my own - it's a wonder that I never saw the difference back then. I knew that I hadn't wanted to see it. Looking down at the picture, I felt a tug in the vicinity of my heart but after three months, the pain was not as sharp. I still missed him... still thought of him often. But it was easier to be apart from him now. I had begun to heal. I looked around the room at the bare walls and the cardboard box close to overflowing with the personal effects accumulated over the five years that I had been employed here. This was another step in the many I had taken to make changes in my life. Some of the changes were small ones... a month ago I had cut my shoulder-length hair into a short, stylish bob... and others were big ones. A new job awaited me across town with a company that designed web pages. A small firm with no more than twenty employees, they were looking for a full-time accountant and had offered me the job. I was eagerly anticipating the move to a younger, more vibrant place to work. Life goes on. I glanced up at the sound of a gentle tapping on my door. "Come in," I called out. The door swung open with a near-silent whoosh and I smiled at the sight of the tall man lounging indolently against the door-frame. "Brian," I smiled. "Come to say goodbye?" I asked. Brian had recently been named a partner in the firm and had been a good friend to me in the years that we had worked together. He smirked and pushed away from the door as he stepped into my office. "You're going to keep in touch, right?" he asked, lifting the coffee mug out of the box on my desk and studying the design. He looked up with grin and I laughed lightly. "Of course I will," I promised. "I'll send you my new e-mail address as soon as I know it. And you have my home telephone number," I reminded him. Brian shook his head back and forth and carefully set the mug back into the box. "You know," he said in a slow and thoughtful voice. "I was thinking that you might like to go out to dinner some night," he suggested. "With me," he amended, in case I didn't understand his meaning. My gaze dropped to the picture that I was still clutching in my hands and I studied it for a second or two before looking back up. A lock of dark blonde hair had fallen over his forehead, lending his face a boyish charm and behind the perpetually teasing glint, his gray eyes were soft and hopeful. My first instinct was to say no. I was still on the rebound... still trying to get over Fox. And Brian was a friend... a dear friend. I didn't want to ruin that. But then I remembered a lesson that I had recently learned... that sometimes the best of friends can become the best of loves. I pressed the photograph face down on the desk, and nodded. "I'd like that," I said softly... suddenly shy around him. His wistful expression disappeared under the force of the sudden grin that wreathed his face. "That's great!" he said enthusiastically. "Are you busy tomorrow night?" So soon? I panicked for a second or two and took a deep breath to help clear my head. "Tomorrow would be perfect," I said. Simple words... perhaps another new beginning. Brian's grin grew even brighter if possible, and he turned back to the door, hurrying before I had a chance to change my mind. "I'll pick you up around seven o'clock," he told me as he pulled the door open. I felt a tiny stirring of excitement at the thought of going out on a date with Brian and I knew some of that exhilaration showed in my eyes when I met his gaze with my own. "Seven o'clock," I confirmed. He lifted his hand and waggled his fingers toward me as he stepped into the hallway and pulled the door closed behind him. I tucked the photograph into the box, careful not to crumple it. "Goodbye Fox," I whispered as I settled the cardboard lid over the edges of the box. Life goes on. ********************* January... a new year, a new life. I have been cancer free for almost three months now. I juggled a bag of groceries in one arm while I fumbled with my keys, trying to unlock the door. No wonder this door has been kicked in so many times, I thought wryly - the lock was stubborn. I finally heard the tumblers slide back and the knob turned easily under my hand. I set my keys down on a small table inside the apartment and nudged the door closed with my hip. The only light in the room was the soft blue-green glow of Mulder's aquarium. I flipped on the lights as I made my way toward the kitchen. It was Friday and the end of the last week of the desk duty to which we had been assigned while I recovered. Mulder and I had spent the week reading through half a dozen promising case files and practicing at the firing range. I had to re-qualify on my weapon before I could officially return to field agent status and today I had passed the qualification exam with flying colors. While I had been waiting for the instructor to finish tallying my score, I had turned around to where I knew Mulder had been watching. "Nice shooting, Agent Scully," he had said formally, but I could see the mirth dancing in his eyes. I grinned, unable to hide my happiness. "Thanks," I said. "Looks like we're going back to work, Partner!" I pulled the protective goggles away from my face. "So we'd better decide which case we're going to investigate first." I couldn't wait to get back to work and I knew that Mulder was just as eager to get out of that basement as I was. "I'm going to go back to the office and grab the files so that we can look them over this weekend," he told me. He looked around the room and reached out to quickly tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off and get some rest? This is your last chance to goof off for a while," he reminded me. I glanced down at my watch and noted that it was nearly three o'clock. I wasn't tired, but he was right. Next week it would be business as usual. "Okay," I said as we watched the instructor make his way toward us. A few minutes later we were pouring over the results of my qualification test. We had made our way out to the parking lot where my car was waiting and I drove him back to the Hoover Building. "Mulder," I said as I pulled into the garage. "Why don't you pick up some wine on your way home tonight?" I suggested. "Feel like celebrating?" he asked, climbing out of the car. I smiled and nodded happily. Mulder grinned. "I'll be home in a few hours," he told me as he pushed the door closed. I watched him lope toward the elevators and waited until the doors had closed behind him before I pulled away. Home this weekend was Mulder's apartment. I unloaded the groceries from their bags and set them onto the counter. Digging through the cabinets, I dragged out a heavy skillet and a couple of pots. While I prepared dinner, I thought back to the first weekend we had spent here. Mulder had pushed open the door to his bedroom and I had followed him inside. I had taken my overnight bag out of his hand and unzipped it, pulling out a change of clothes and my makeup bag. I had looked up at Mulder expectantly and he crossed the room and opened one of his bureau drawers. His back stiffened and he hurriedly pushed the drawer closed. "Mulder?" I had asked as I moved toward him. "What's wrong?" He had rubbed his fingers nervously over the smooth top of the bureau, studying the whorls of the wood's grain as if it was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. I reached out and touched him with one hand. "Mulder," I said softly. He heaved out a sigh and pulled the drawer open again. I peered inside to find the source of his discomfort. A woman's blue sweater, some lacy under things, an unopened package of pantyhose. He had raised guilty eyes to mine and I rubbed my hand reassuringly over his back. "It's okay, Mulder," I said soothingly. He shook his head violently and looked around the room, grabbing a shopping bag that had been folded up and tucked behind the bureau. "No," he said. "I forgot... with everything that's happened, I thought I had..." his voice trailed off and he began to shove the items into the bag. I had curled my hand around his forearm. "Mulder," I had called to him softly, willing him to look at me. "It's okay," I repeated. He nodded shortly but spent a few minutes going through each room in the apartment, gathering up the things that Lillian had left behind and placing them into the bag. It didn't take long and I couldn't help but wonder why, after almost three years, there was so little evidence of her place in his life and in his home. As I cut the chicken into small pieces and slid them into the skillet with some olive oil, I remembered how Mulder had tucked the bag into the corner of his closet. I was still clutching my clothes in my arms and when he returned to my side, he had taken the small bundle of clothing away from me. I expected him to fill the now empty drawer with my things but he didn't. Instead, he pushed that drawer closed and pulled open another. I had watched him shift some of his own things around, and although it may have been silly, I had been deeply moved by the sight of him making room for me in his life. I had teared up, and Mulder had kissed those silly tears from my eyes as he'd held me close. It seemed he always knew what to do, to bring out the emotional me - and I found I liked it. A lot. I scooped the browning chicken from the pan and spooned it into the pot of tomato sauce bubbling on the back burner then turned the flame down to allow the chicken to simmer in the fragrant sauce. Grabbing some plates from the cabinet I began to set the table. The chicken would be ready in about thirty minutes and I only had to cook the pasta and fix a salad. Mulder would be home by then. Finished with the table, I went into the bedroom and began to strip out of my work clothes. I hung my suit up on a hanger and grabbed a pair of jeans and a sweater from the bureau, dressing quickly. Pulling my hair into a ponytail, I studied my reflection in the mirror. A contented smile spread over my face as I looked at myself. I had regained much of the weight I had lost and my hair was growing thick and shiny again. The sparkle in my eyes wasn't merely the result of reclaiming my health. My gaze traveled over the surface of the bureau, noting the presence of my brush, two pairs of earrings and a tube of lipstick scattered among Mulder's things and I remembered that Mulder's toothbrush hung next to mine in the bathroom of my apartment and that his sneakers were sloppily tossed onto the floor of my closet next to a neatly marked stack of shoeboxes. Our lives were becoming irrevocably entwined and I liked it. I was tossing the salad when I heard Mulder's key in the lock followed a few seconds later by his voice. "I'm home," he called. I mentally followed his movements by the sounds he made as he tracked through the apartment. Thwack! went the keys as they bounced onto the small table near the door to land next to my own set with a soft clicking noise. A dull thud followed closely by another was the sound of his shoes being toed off and kicked under the table and the rustling noise was his overcoat being tossed over the coat stand. Then there was silence - but I knew he was close because my heart began tripping in my chest. "Mmmm," he said as he sidled up behind me and slid his arms around my waist. "Something smells good," he murmured, burying his face against my neck and inhaling deeply. I leaned my head against his chest and crossed my arms in front of me, cupping his elbows in my hands. "Hi," I said and pulled his arms more tightly around me. I closed my eyes and took the time to enjoy the simplicity of the moment... and I felt my love for him bubble over like the sauce dancing merrily in the pot on the stove. "I'm glad you're home," I told him as I turned in his arms and we shared a tender kiss. "Dinner is just about ready," I murmured against his lips. There had been other nights when the very nearness of each other was enough to drive us away from dinner or whatever movie we were watching and into the bedroom. And then there were other nights - nights like this one - where we were content to simply enjoy each other's company... share a meal... discuss work or our plans for the weekend. A normal life... I knew that's what Mulder had been looking for with Lilly. Just as I knew that what passed as normal for us would be unrecognizable as such to others. Yet we were careful to carve out these small, simple moments away from the chaos of our daily lives. I began to spoon the chicken and sauce into a serving dish. "Would you drain the pasta?" I asked, nodding toward the other pot on the stovetop. We worked together quickly and easily and soon were sitting down to eat. "Everything is going to be different come Monday," I said, stabbing a piece of chicken onto my fork. Mulder took a sip of wine and watched me over the rim of his glass. "The biggest changes are behind us," he said matter-of-factly. I swallowed the bite of chicken and sampled the wine that Mulder had poured into my glass. Setting the wineglass down, I traced one finger around the rim, lost in thought. Mulder reached across the table and covered my hand with his own. "Hey," he said. I looked up quickly at the note of concern in his voice. "You haven't changed your mind, have you?" I could see the worry in the depths of his hazel eyes and the tiny crease forming between his eyebrows. I shook my head violently - hurrying to allay his fears. "Oh, no. Mulder... no," I reassured him quickly. "I'm not willing to give you up... give us up," I told him as I laced my fingers with his. "I'm sorry," I sighed. "I've been so happy lately... it makes me nervous," I admitted. "Sometimes I don't think I deserve to be so happy, to have so much..." I shrugged, my voice trailing off helplessly as I struggled to put my thoughts into words. "Scully." Mulder's voice was mildly chiding and he jiggled my fingers with his own. "After everything you've been through this past year..." he paused, biting his lip hard for a moment. When he spoke again, tears stood in his eyes. "No one deserves to be happy more than you," he said hoarsely. I swallowed past the huge lump in my throat. "We," I said softly. "WE deserve to be happy, Mulder." Mulder smiled and lifted his glass, holding it across the center of the table. "To being happy," he whispered. I picked up my own glass and touched it lightly against his, enjoying the tinkling sound the glasses made as they clinked together. "To being happy," I agreed. Mulder lifted his fork and began eating again. I watched for a moment, enjoying the simple pleasure of sitting across the table from him. Aware of my watchful gaze, he looked up at me expectantly. "Scully," he scolded softly. "We've gone over it a dozen times already. We're not going to hide our relationship from anyone - the FBI, our enemies... Anyone who has a problem with our relationship - we'll deal with it the way we always have... together." I took a deep breath and released it, along with my worries. Mulder was right; nothing could separate us now. We had been searching for each other all of our lives. The love we had been looking for had been right in front of us for five years. There was no power in heaven or on earth strong enough to rip him from my arms. I would never let him go. We finished dinner and while Mulder was cleaning up, I took a quick shower and changed into a pair of pajamas. When I came back into the living room, Mulder was sprawled out on one end of the couch. He had topped off our wineglasses and they were waiting on the coffee table. I sat down next to him and snuggled under the arm that he draped over my shoulder. Mulder pulled the Mexican throw from the back of the sofa and tucked it around our legs and we settled down to sip our wine and watch television. Midway through the news, Mulder gently pulled his arm from around my shoulder. "I'm going to hop into the shower," he told me as he climbed to his feet. He rearranged the blanket across my legs and ran his hand over the crown of my head in a gentle caress. When the sports report began, I stood and took the empty wineglasses into the kitchen. Rinsing them out, I left them in the sink and then wandered back into the living room to listen to the weather forecast for the rest of the weekend. Hmmm... a chance for snow. I smiled at the thought of being snowed in with Mulder and clicked the television off. I heard the squeak of the shower being shut off and I went into the bedroom to begin getting ready for bed. I was pulling the quilt to the bottom of the mattress when the bathroom door opened and steam billowed out in a rolling cloud. I looked up to see Mulder walking into the bedroom, rubbing his wet hair with a towel, a pair of pajama bottoms riding low on his hips. He stopped at the foot of the bed and I watched a bead of water drip from the tip of his hair to roll slowly down his neck and onto his shoulder. My eyes tracked the path of that droplet... and I was thirsty for a taste. Unaware of my hungry perusal, Mulder raked his fingers through his hair, sending a sprinkling of moisture onto his torso, but my gaze was fixated on that first drop as it leisurely made its way from his shoulder onto his chest, where it paused and quivered on one of the flat nipples veiled in the smattering of hair sprinkled over Mulder's chest. How mesmerizing... I had to have that drop of water. I reached out and pulled him across the few inches that separated us by the drawstrings knotted at the waistband of his pajamas. My mouth opened over his chest and my tongue lapped up the tiny liquid bead... Mmmm. I felt his body jerk with surprise when my lips moved over his chest - my tongue chasing the droplets of moisture from his body. There, surely that taste was the sweetest... No, I thought, as my mouth greedily drank from the dampness pooled in the hollow of his throat - that spot, right... there - that was the most delicious. "Ohhhh." Mulder's deep groan vibrated against my parched lips. I ran my hands over his damp shoulders and slid my fingers into his wet hair. I pushed him down onto the bed and stepped between his spread legs. Gripping the silky strands of his hair in my hands, I tugged his head back and lowered my mouth onto his. "You taste so good," I mumbled against his lips before my tongue slipped into his mouth for a more thorough exploration. I could taste the mint of his toothpaste and a hint of the smokiness of the wine we had been drinking earlier... and underneath it all, I tasted Mulder. My tongue rubbed against his and slid over his teeth. I retreated and lured him into following me, sucking his tongue into my mouth hungrily. I wanted more. "Lie down." I pushed his shoulders and he dropped obligingly onto the sheets. I leaned over him and ran the flat of my tongue across his clavicle, stroking it over his Adam's apple, which bobbed convulsively in his throat when my mouth lingered there. "Mulder," I sighed over his heart. I scratched my fingernails lightly across his pectorals and watched the flat nipples harden under my touch. "God!" His breath exploded out of his chest when I tugged on the waistband of his pajamas and fastened my lips onto the soft skin of his stomach. I ran my tongue over his hair-roughened skin and scraped my teeth over the hardness of his hipbone. His body was damp now with perspiration and I lifted my mouth from his quivering flesh to pull my pajama top over my head, tossing it onto the floor. "Come here," he moaned and I smiled at the aching sound of his voice, pleased to be responsible for that ache, happy to be strong enough now to drive him to distraction - to be an equal participant in our lovemaking... or to take the lead if I wanted. "No," I whispered against his skin. "Not yet." I made quick work of the knot at the waistband of his pajamas and hooked my fingers into the elastic, drawing the soft material over his hips and down his legs. My name was a serrated sigh on his lips as my fingers traced a path over his legs. His strong thighs tightened around me convulsively as my breath washed over him. "Yeahyeahyeah," he chanted when my tongue darted out to lap at tip of his erection. My mind noted the new tastes - dark... musky... Mulder. I lifted my mouth from him and his hips jerked with every puff of my breath as I spoke. "You're mine, Mulder," I said. "I've wanted you forever and I'll never let you go," I vowed and when I closed my mouth over him, he howled my name and sat up, bowing his body over me, tangling his fingers in my hair. "Stop... don't... oh! Don't stop," he panted. My heart thrilled at the wild tone of his voice, his broken pleas and murmurs - the sound of my name on his lips. His lips... I wanted to taste his mouth again, to draw his breath into me. I lifted my head and looked into his turbulent eyes... and I smiled. A big, happy grin broke over my face and I flung my arms around his neck and toppled him back onto the bed, peppering his face with kisses. "Mine, mine, MINE!" I sang out. Mulder framed my face in his hands, holding me still as he lifted his head to brush his mouth over mine. "Always," he whispered against my lips. "From the day I was born..." I struggled between laughter and tears, laughter winning out when he rolled me beneath him and stripped my pajama bottoms and panties from my legs. "Ha!" he exclaimed as he settled between my legs, thrusting his hips suggestively against mine. "I've got you right where I want you!" I grinned happily and wound myself around his waist. Wrapping gentle fingers around him, I drew him toward me. "No." I panted with the long, liquid slide of his body into mine. "I've got you exactly where I want you." I smiled triumphantly up into his beautiful face. He closed his eyes and pushed forward slow, slowly... achingly slow. "That's what I said," he groaned as I arched my hips up to meet his. "You've got me just where I wanted to be." His teeth worrying his bottom lip was a testimony to the exquisite pressure building between us, but the devilish light dancing in his eyes and the smile I could feel breaking over my face were evidence of the joyous pleasure we took in each other's nearness. "Mulder." I moaned his name and slid my hands over his back and into his hair. He dug his fingers into the sheets and pushed himself even deeper within me. "What?" His voice was a hoarse rasping sound near my ear. I turned my face toward his and stared into hazel eyes that had gone blurry with pleasure. "Shut up and kiss me," I ordered. He shoved his fingers into my hair and tilted my lips up to his. My arms and legs tightened around him as he lowered his mouth to mine. "Yes, ma'am," he murmured. Damn. He always had to have the last word. ***************** Sunlight streamed in through the window and across my face; I could feel it though I was still in a half-conscious state. Yawning, I rubbed at my eyes and burrowed my nose into the pillow, unwilling to fully awaken just yet. I was surrounded by warmth, my muscles ached a little and the taste of wine was still in my mouth. A small furnace pressed into my back, all along my body from neck to knees. Scully... No, I didn't want to awaken and didn't want to move, ever. I felt so good, inside and out. Sated with delicious food and wine; the best loving this side of heaven - last night had been incredible. Not because of where we'd gone, since we'd stayed in and watched TV all evening. Incredible because we were together. That was enough, I'd say. In fact it was beyond what I'd hoped for and prayed for all those months ago when I'd first discovered Scully's cancer. Back then my only fervent prayer had been the sparing of her life. Now, all my prayers had been answered and every wish fulfilled. It had been over three months since her release from the hospital and every day Scully was getting stronger. She'd put back on most of the weight she had lost and although she was still too thin, her face and body had filled out and her skin once more glowed with good health. A daily exercise regimen had begun to rebuild lost muscle tone and she'd been approved for field work after having spent the better part of a month in the office with me on desk duty. After getting her weapon re-qualification she was pronounced ready to function normally during a standard workday which for us meant that she was once more acting fully as my partner. Boy, was she ever... I lay in bed with my fully-functioning partner snuggled up against my naked ass, one hand wound loosely around my waist, and thought about the past few months. We'd spent every night together, either at my place or at hers. At first I'd balked at trying to spend any time in my apartment; it was a mess most of the time and I'd hated to see Scully uproot herself just for a night in my dusty digs. But she'd grinned at me and pushed me out the door of her building, her small overnight bag in my hands, claiming that my fish had to be missing me and were probably starved. Faced with such logic I could do nothing more than obey her. Once there, Scully made herself at home, which warmed me to no end. I loved finding places for her to stash her belongings, and the first time I nestled her underthings next to my boxers in the same drawer... the soft, damp eyes she turned my way just wiped me out. I remembered how I'd gathered her close and kissed her wet lashes, murmuring my love into her ear in response to her snuffled, "Thank you, Mulder..." Our shoes mingled together in leather-and-lace bliss on my closet floor and her make-up happily cluttered my dresser. Likewise in her apartment I had marked out various places in each room, and had staked my ownership in bits and pieces. It was comforting - it was refreshingly normal - And it was ten times more in just a few short months than I had ever had with Lilly, in almost three years. And my very acceptance of this magical blending told me stronger than any words just how right Scully and I were, together. Meant to be - I knew this for truth. Since in the beginning she'd still been recuperating, I'd made Scully go to bed early every night, and most nights I went in with her - spending hours either watching her sleep, or in pleasurable worship of her every trembling inch... As we'd become more familiar with each other's needs and desires, we gained confidence in our ability to please each other. I discovered a passionate side to Dana Scully that I'd long suspected was there but that had always been buried by her no-nonsense attitude and her scientific nature. In bed she was as sensual as could be and more woman than I'd ever had in my sorry existence. Out of bed her brush with death had left both of us with an appreciation of the brevity of life - and determined to stop wasting it by pretending our feelings were of no consequence. We were both hungry for the words that accompanied our actions and quantified our love... now we weren't afraid to say them. True, we still kept our private life together mostly private - but now, we could be out in public view and the touch of Scully's hand on my arm would be enhanced by a whispered, "I love you"... My hand on the low of her back would convey much more than simple support when I bent into her hair and murmured my desire to place my hands in other, more sensitive areas of her sweet body. Her shiver of response would make me tighten all over... I opened one eye and peered blearily at the night stand clock. Seven AM. Thank God it was Saturday - we had a long, delicious weekend together, with nothing more strenuous than dinner with Scully's mom and a long telephone conversation with my mother to wish her a Happy Birthday. Since I'd come back from visiting her, Mom and I had come to such a better understanding of each other, and our phone calls were now much less stilted and more conversational, more loving. Another reason to be thankful and happy - I had missed my mother, so much - and now I felt in some small way that I'd gotten her back as well. My sleepy thoughts were interrupted by the warm mouth that trailed across my back and the hand that slipped down my stomach to clasp me loosely. Already halfway to hard from the feel of her pressing into me, Scully's hand brought me the rest of the way in an instant. I groaned under my breath and fought to stay still, pretending to be asleep, wondering how far she'd go to tease me awake. My partner is a very methodical, thorough woman... Jesus. It took every ounce of my self-control not to just flip around and pin her to the mattress, once those determined fingers decided to make themselves felt. They stroked and rubbed, cupped and caressed until I couldn't hold it in... I sent one loud groan into my pillow and twisted around to face my tormentor - who had a huge grin on her beautiful face. I trapped her hand between us when I shoved her underneath me, and her smirking retort made me laugh against her lips when I kissed them. "Jeez, Mulder... you are SO easy..." I swallowed her words and most of her breath in the kiss I took. Morning kisses with Scully... God, sweeter than any candy. I nibbled and licked at the fullness of her lips, dipping inside for a better taste, hearing the soft moan she released as the movements of our mouths deepened and our hearts beat harder and faster. Without breaking the kiss, I made short work of the buttons on her nightshirt and tugged it off, tossing it blindly over my shoulder. Her protesting mumble against my mouth didn't deter me in the least. "Mmm, Mulder... wait. I need to brush my teeth -" One of her hands pushed at my shoulder and I let a growl loose into her open mouth and pinned her hand down. "I'll brush them for you... with my tongue." And I proceeded to do just that - working my way over each one thoroughly. I melted down onto her soft body and stroked her, inside and out, with my tongue and my hands. She tasted delicious and felt intoxicatingly right in my arms and all I wanted to do was love her this way forever. Starting with her delectable mouth... I couldn't seem to get enough of Scully's mouth. All during the years of our partnership there were plenty of times when those lush lips of hers held such fascination for me, but in my blindness I never understood why. I'd thought it had to do with my normal male appreciation for a beautiful woman, but oh... it went so much deeper than that. Now I knew. I had been born to kiss her lips, hold her body in my hands - wrap her heart into my soul. It just took me a long time to sort it all out, and act upon it. Almost too long... almost too late. I would never make that mistake again... never. I pressed Scully down into the bed and as I loved her I concentrated on every sigh and moan those sweet lips uttered against my neck, or my shoulder. I reveled in the trembling touch of her fingers over my skin and wallowed in the twining of her tender limbs all around me. The look in her intensely blue eyes as they stared into mine, keeping visual track of the expression on my face when our bodies merged and our breaths combined in yet another kiss - I would fold that look into a small and precious memory and store it forever in my mind. As I moved within the woman I loved and we celebrated another morning together I sent a heartfelt thanks heavenward for the gift I'd been given; the gift I'd treasure above all others... Dana Scully's love. ************************* "Scully..." "Mmmm... I'm asleep." "No, you're not - and if you are then wake up. I've got a great idea." "Does it involve me engaged in some sort of sleep activity?" "N-oooo... it involves a little vacation. Me and you. I think we need a break, away from DC. Don't you? I mean... it's been months since we've been out in the field, staying in some seedy motel, eating lousy take-out... don't you miss it, Partner?" "No." "Well, how about foregoing the seedy motel and the lousy take-out, and just taking time, instead? We've got leave stashed; I say we use it. Find some beach somewhere just waiting for us to lay all over it, and... What? Why're you snickering, Scully?" "Well... actually - I've sort of been thinking the same thing, Mulder. In fact, I already scheduled us for a little trip..." "Scully! Do tell! Some exotic locale, teeming with aqua waters and white sand and frozen daiquiris?" "Welllll... yes, and no. I chose Florida, because -" "Florida! Scully, baby! We're going to Florida? Oh man, I can almost feel the sun; smell the surf and taste the salt in the air... What? OWWW! You pinched my... you pinched me!" "It was the only way I could get you to shut up! It's not the beach, Mulder. It's - well, actually... oh, God. It's a seminar, okay? I signed us up for a seminar, in Florida." "A seminar." "Oh, please. Mulder... don't do that; don't give me that wounded puppy face - you know I can't resist it. And I didn't have a choice, honestly I didn't! Skinner cornered me a few weeks ago when you were down the street getting coffee. Told me we were ridiculously behind with our participation in that damn continuing education program the FBI insists on adhering to. He ordered me to sign us up for something on the main list and go at the earliest opportunity. I should have told you sooner but I only got everything finalized a few days ago." "Oh, shit. I probably don't want to hear this, do I?" "It's not that bad, truly it isn't. The lists of seminars were mostly pretty lame, but I did find one that sounded fairly promising. It's over a weekend and the hosting hotel is very nice. And I think we'd enjoy this one, Mulder." "Okay... what is it?" "Team-building..." "You have GOT to be kidding. What could some goofy seminar teach us about team-building, Scully? We're already the best team going!" "Mulder, try to keep an open mind, please? We don't have a choice. Skinner gave us a direct order this time - we can't keep avoiding these courses. This one has an added bonus - it will give us one- third the make-up credits we need." "Aww, baby... I don't want to go waste our time at some stupid seminar! I wanna go have some fun, with you..." "Mulderrrrr... I promise you we'll have fun - I swear we'll find plenty of time to enjoy ourselves. And if you go willingly, without further whining... I promise I'll make it worth your while." "Oooo... care to give me a preview of how worthwhile you plan on making it, Agent?" "Gladly, Partner. Just lie back, and allow me to start that team- building, right now..." "Oh, yeah... I love building teams..." "Shut up, Mulder..." "Yes, Ma'am." End Author's Notes: Tess goes first: I think I let all of two days go by after we finished posting Deliverance From Evil before I started in on Char again. I told her that I wanted to write a Mulder/Other story that ended in MSR but that I was afraid that I would find myself feeling too badly for Scully and would not give Mulder a fair shake. Char wrote back with a couple of suggestions and I kept more or less brushing them off wondering to myself "Geez, what is it going to take to get her to offer to co-author this with me?" LOL! Finally, after about four e-mail exchanges, she took the bait and not only suggested that we center the story around the cancer arc, but also introduced Lilly in the prologue. We decided that we didn't want the other woman in this story to be a homicidal maniac or a bitch, but rather, someone that Mulder actually wanted to be with. Someone that really was a threat to Mulder and Scully's relationship because she was a good and loving person. My love and boundless thanks to Char for writing this with me, for her friendship and her humor. I'm hooked on this partnership but I promise to take a step back and let you catch up on all of your other writing commitments! Thanks Char for bringing this story to life with me. Char's turn: Like it took any amount of persuasion for me to collaborate a second time with Tess! I just about forced her into putting together an outline! I thought her idea of a Mulder/Other blossoming into a solid MSR, and with a gentle and nice Other, to be a real challenge. And as always writing with Tess is an absolute joy. Her Scully is just wonderful and her dialogue is always right-on target. I look forward to our next endeavor, which I feel won't be all that far in the future! It's just too much fun writing with my Tessie! Love you too, Sweetie! As you might expect, we have a list of people to thank for their help in bringing this story to life. To Paige, cheerleader extraordinaire, as always, our deepest gratitude. Aly, mystie, David, and Foxsong all received advance copies and were lavish not only with their praise, but their suggestions as well. To the gang at IWantToBelieve for their support and kindness as we previewed the fic on the list. They are the best! You can find our stories, both by collaboration and individually at: http://char.chaffin.com or http://tessfiles.envy.nu