Little Girl Lost

By suricata

 

                  

              "There's a dark cloud rising from the

              desert floor

              I packed my bags and I'm heading straight

              into the storm

              Gonna be a twister to blow everything down

              That ain't got the faith to stand its ground

              Blow away the dreams that tear you apart

              Blow away the dreams that break your heart

              Blow away the lies that leave you nothing but                           lost and broken-hearted."  --Bruce Springsteen,

                                          The Promised Land

 

 

 

 

     Dana threw the last article of clothing into her duffel bag and stood, hands on her hips, looking around the bedroom.  Everything was immaculate.  To the casual eye it seemed like the perfect apartment -- cozy and comfortable.  But she knew better.  The surfaces were clean because her mother and Melissa had wiped the fingerprint powder off them.  The glass coffee table had been windex'd to within an inch of its existence.  The carpets had all been vacuumed.  Even the air was fresh.  But she could still hear the glass breaking, feel rough hands on her -- smell the acrid scent of her own fear.  Cleaning the apartment wasn't going to get rid of that.  She had to clean herself.  And that wasn't going to happen here.

     The phone rang.  Dana picked up her duffel and headed out the door.

 

                        **  **  X  **  **

 

 

     She sat in front of Skinner's desk, hands clasped in her lap, suit carefully pressed.  To the outside observer, Dana Scully was the picture of unruffled calm.  But that calmness hid a cold, dead abyss, one that not even Skinner's impassioned outbursts could pierce.

     "I would have thought that you'd be eager to get back to work," he said, placing two sheets of paper flat on his desk.  "Back to the X-Files."

     Dana looked at him.  Her body was so perfectly still, it might have been carved from marble.  "No sir," she said in the patient voice of someone not willingly suffering a fool.

     Skinner sighed, steepling his fingers under his chin.  "Have you discussed this with Agent Mulder?"

     Her composure didn't crack.  "No sir."

     "No.  Of course you haven't.  You haven't spoken to him since you left the hospital, have you?"  He didn't wait for an answer.  "Do you have any idea what you're doing to him?"

     "Begging your pardon, sir, but I don't see as how that's any of your business."

     Skinner gave up.  "What is it that you want, Agent Scully?"

     "Time," she said flatly.  "As I explained in my request for an extended leave of absence."  She didn't look at the papers on Skinner's desk.

     He sighed.  There was nothing in her request that wasn't proper procedure, completely by-the-book, and he had no reason in the world to deny it.  Nothing but a screaming in his gut that this was a mistake.    "Four weeks.  And then I expect you to report to duty with a little more enthusiasm."

     "Not the X-Files."

     "No."  He shook his head, wondering how he was going to break the news to Mulder.  Picking up the second sheet of paper, he slid it into a file box.  "I will hold your request for a transfer until you return.  If you come back and still desire it..."

     "Thank you, sir."

     And the interview was over.

 

     That had been five days ago.  She had left Skinner's office and gone home to pack, leaving only a brief message on her mother's answering machine to say that she wouldn't be home for Thanksgiving.  To Mulder she had said nothing.

     Only now, safely in the mountains of Vermont, watching the snow come down, did she acknowledge the fact that she was running.  Running from her family, the FBI, from Mulder -- and from the X- Files.

     Her memories of the abduction were hazy -- during the day.  But at night, when the cold settled into her bones, the images came at her like a heavyweight's punch, knocking her into nightmares that woke her with a cold sweat, a speeding pulse and a scream caught in her throat.

     She knew that Mulder would understand.  She thought he might be able to help.  She held him responsible.

     From the moment she had woken up in the hospital, she had hated him. 

     Not a hot, blazing hatred, but one that came in spurts between times of missing him intensely.  She hated the fact he had been the one to give her the piece of metal found in Duane Barry, knowing that it could put her in danger.  If he had stayed with his cases and not brought her into any of them, she wouldn't have been put in harm's way. 

     But, once more, he had used her as a tool to find information.  And once more she had given him assistance because she cared about him, because he was her friend.  Or so she had thought.  The fact that he could have given her a piece of evidence that he knew could hurt her seemed to negate any feelings of friendship, or anything else for that matter. 

     That was what hurt the most.  Dana glanced around the interior of her parent's cabin, unable to lose the pain inside even surrounded by the warmth of this place.  The coldness that she had built up as protection from the nightmares had become too much a part of herself, an extension of the professional reserve she had worked so hard for.  Once a blessing in the face of sexist professors and, later, doubting co-workers, it now seemed to stifle her.  And yet she clung to it like a security blanket, unable to let go.  She stared into the fire and tried to make sense of her feelings.

     She wanted desperately to blame her partner -- her former partner -- for what had happened to her, but a little voice in the back of her mind stopped her.  Told her that Mulder hadn't known the danger, would never have hurt her that way intentionally.  That she could have walked away any time before the X-Files were closed by requesting a transfer and afterward by simply refusing to get involved in his cases.  Instead, she had jumped in to help him every time he needed it because he was her friend, more than that, he was her best friend. 

     "If there's an iced tea in that bag...this might be love."

     She almost smiled at the line which popped into her head.   Always trying to break a tense situation with humor, he had said it trying to shake her out of a serious mood.  It had worked, but perhaps it was what had started her thinking about exactly what their relationship was.  There were times before her abduction when she had thought about him as more than just a friend, of what it might be like to get closer to him.  She had even started to dream about him, her mind casting him as a lover who took her body with a tenderness close to reverence.

     But that had been before Duane Barry kidnapped her.

     Erotic dreams about Mulder had been replaced, the memories of her missing time coming back to torment her in the dark of the night, leaving her shaking in her bed almost every night. 

     She would wake and automatically reach for the phone, wanting desperately to call Mulder.  There were times when she needed to hear his voice, but she would force her hand away from the receiver, cursing him for having put her in this situation to start with.  She had nowhere to turn, no one in which to confide, and once again she would tell herself how much she hated him.

     So she was left with the dreams, flashes of memories in dark rooms.  The image of a flat circular table criss-crossed with pale streaks of light, of restraints which weren't visible yet which held her as strongly as steel handcuffs to the table's surface.  And pain. 

     Scully flinched at the thought and blinked back the memories, refusing to allow them to surface.  She sat heavily in a chair beside the fireplace and stared into the flames, making her mind a blank to the torment inside her and the memory of Mulder.

 

                      **  **   X  **  **

 

 

     Mulder sat alone in his apartment, the lights turned out as he stared out the window.  Scully had been out of the hospital for over a week now and he had still had no contact with her.  His calls had gone unanswered and he hadn't had the nerve to go to her apartment and check on her. 

     Her rejection hurt deeply, but in a way he could understand  it.  He had been the one to give her the piece of metal which had led Duane Barry to her, the one to put her in danger.  For that he hadn't forgiven himself, much less expected her to forgive him. 

     "You're the only one I'd put myself on the line for, Mulder."

     The words were as clear now as they were that night in the car.  He had always known that she would be there for him whenever he needed her, even after the X‑Files had been closed, and in certain ways, he had taken advantage of that fact.  Now, knowing that helping him had been what put her in danger just added to his guilt.  Especially now.

     He remembered going into the hospital the night she had "returned".  Seeing her there, so fragile, her only breathing done mechanically, had torn at him.  He had never felt as helpless as when he had to stand by and watch her family turn off the respirator, not knowing whether she would live or die, and he never wanted to be in that position again.  Her smile when he had first gone in to see her after she woke up had been the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, making him choke up so badly that he had to leave the room or risk her seeing the tears in his eyes.

     At first, he had been glad Scully had taken the time off. She needed to get away from work for a while, to heal, and he could run the X‑Files by himself until she was ready to return.  But then, this morning, Skinner had informed him that she had also put in for a transfer, that she wouldn't be coming back to him after all. 

     He had thought about going after her, had even gone so far as to track her down.  That had been no easy task.  Scully had covered her tracks well, apparently not wanting anyone to find her until she was ready to come back to D.C.

     However, once he had accomplished it, he wasn't sure he wanted to make the trip to Vermont.  He wanted to see Scully, to talk to her, but was afraid of the reception he would get.  She had gone to so much trouble to cover her tracks, he was sure she wouldn't want unexpected company.  As much as he wanted to rush up to Vermont and drag her back, and as much as it hurt that she had made it plain by her actions she didn't want him around, Mulder had paced his living room and talked himself out of intruding on her privacy.  But that was before her mother called.  

     The shrill ring of the phone invaded the silence of the room and Mulder picked it up.  "Hello?"

     "Fox?"

     "Mrs. Scully?" 

     "Yes,"  Margaret Scully was obviously upset, her voice filled with concern.  "Fox, have you heard from Dana since she left?"

     "No, I haven't."  It hurt just to say the words.  "I haven't talked to her since she left the hospital."

     Mrs. Scully was quiet for a moment.  "She didn't come home for Thanksgiving, Fox.  She's never cut herself off from the family on the holidays before.  She called me last night, but she seemed so distant, and she just didn't sound like herself.  I'm worried about her."

     Mulder searched for something to say, something that would help allay her fears.  "She's been under a great deal of stress, Mrs. Scully.  I'm sure she's just taking a much needed rest."

     "It's not just that.  There's something wrong here, Fox.  I could hear it in her voice.  She's scared."  Scully's mother was quiet for a long moment.  "I tried to talk her into letting me come up there, but she refused.  She's being so stubborn."

     Margaret Scully sounded just like her daughter for a moment, used the same tone Dana used when she disagreed with him, and it made him smile.  He could almost see the expression on Margaret's face, imagining it to be the same put-out look that Dana used in such times.

     "She needs someone there with her."  Mrs. Scully continued.  "Someone she trusts."  Another silence.  "She needs you, Fox."

     Mulder didn't say anything for a moment, trying to think of a reason to refuse the request he knew was coming next.

     "Will you go up and talk to her?"

     "Mrs. Scully, I don't think..."

     "Please, Fox.  She needs you there to help her through this."

     "Mulder...I need your help...Mulder!"

     Mulder closed his eyes trying to block out the memory.  What if she did need him?  Could he risk failing her again?

     "All right, I'll drive up and see how she's doing."

     "Do you need directions?"

     "No.  I know where she is,"  Mulder didn't think about what he had said until it was too late.  "I mean..."

     "It's all right."  Mrs. Scully's voice was actually approving instead of censuring.  "You were worried about her, too."

     Mulder didn't comment.  "I'll have her call you before I leave there."

     "All right."  Silence again.  "And Fox..."

     "Yes?"

     "Thank you."

     Before Mulder could reply, Mrs. Scully had hung up the phone.

 

 

     Dana sat in front of the fire with a book in her lap.  She hadn't turned a page in 15 minutes, had just stared ahead of her into the flames, her left hand rubbing her pajama top just over her navel.  She could feel the small pinkish scar on her stomach even through the material of her night clothes and an involuntary shudder went through her.  Some shadow of pain moved in the back of her mind and her body answered with a cramp in her abdomen so strong that she bent over.  It was gone as quickly as it hit, leaving her to wonder if she had imagined the pain.

     She closed the book and lay it on the table beside her chair, giving up trying to concentrate on the damn thing.  She was out of the chair and reaching to turn out the lights when she heard the knock at the door.

     "Who is it?"

     "Mulder."

     Dana closed her eyes, her fingers gripping the back of the nearest chair.

     "Come on, Scully.  It's cold out here."

     She walked over and opened the door a crack, leaving the chain in place.  Mulder stood on the tiny porch of the cabin, his hands deep in his pockets.

     "Hi."

     Dana looked him up and down.  "What are you doing here, Mulder?"

     "Your mother called me.  She was worried about you."  He looked pointedly at the chain on the door.  "Can I come in for just a minute?"

     Dana hesitated a moment before she shut the door and slid the chain off then opened it again to let him inside.  After Mulder walked past her to the fire, Dana immediately shut and bolted the door again.  "You said my mother called you."

     Mulder moved to the chair she had just vacated and sat down.  "She's worried about you, Scully.  She said you didn't sound like yourself the last time she talked to you."

     He saw Dana's mouth twist in what should have been a smile, but didn't reach her eyes.  "So she asked you to come up and check on me?"

     "Yes."  He watched her for a moment, noting how pale she looked, beyond even her normal Scully-pale complexion.  Her hair was limp around her face, as though she had washed it but hadn't touched it with a brush for a while.  Her eyes had none of their usual sparkle and the hollows under her cheeks were so pronounced that he found himself wondering if she was eating at all. 

     "I'm worried about you, too, Scully."

     She shot him a look that he couldn't quite fathom.  "I'm fine, Mulder.  I'm just taking a much needed rest," she said.  There was an edge to the words that he had never heard her use before, not even in the beginning of their partnership.

     He took a deep breath before speaking again, half afraid of the answer to his next question. "Why haven't you returned my phone calls?"

     Dana stared at him for a long minute.  "I just wasn't up to talking to anyone."

     "You look like hell, you know."

     "Careful, Mulder. You could turn a girl's head with those kind of compliments."

     "When was the last time you had a decent meal?"

     Dana shrugged.  "I don't know.  I ate something yesterday.  I just don't have an appetite lately."

     "You need to eat something, Scully."

     Dana gave a small "huh" and shook her head.  "This from a man who lives on sunflower seeds.  I have a mother, Mulder. I don't need another one." 

     Her voice was sarcastic, even slightly cold now, and Mulder got the distinct feeling that she wasn't telling him everything.  He pushed her.  "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

     "What do you mean?"

     "You've had some memories return, haven't you?"

     Dana turned away from him.  "Stop.  Just drop it."

     "That's why you look like you haven't slept in days.  You've been remembering what happened to you."

     "I don't want to talk about it, Mulder."  Her voice rose another notch in volume.

     "You need to tell someone about what happened to you.  You need help dealing with it, Scully.  Let me help you."  He had walked toward her and with the last sentence placed his hand on her shoulder, stunned when she whirled on him in anger.

     "You've done enough, haven't you?"  Her eyes brimming with angry tears, Dana lashed out at him.  "Duane Barry wouldn't have come for me if it hadn't been for that damn piece of metal."

     "Scully...I... "

     She brushed his hand off her shoulder and turned away again, her voice shaking but not so angry this time.  "Or maybe he would have. I don't know.  That's just the only rational explanation I can come up with.  It just makes no sense at to why he would take me and not someone else.  Someone more accessible."   

     "Maybe if I had kept it, he would have come for me instead.  I don't know, Scully.  But I never wanted any of this to happen to you."

     "I know.  That's what hurts the most, Mulder.  I was a way for you to get information.  A tool for you to use.  The thought that you could be putting me in danger by giving me that piece of metal probably never crossed your mind because you were to busy searching for your truth."

     Mulder blinked back the hurt her words caused, unable to say anything because, deep down, he knew they were at least partially true.  He had used her to find out what the metal was, with little thought as to what could happen to her because of it.  That fact had haunted him through the long months in which she was missing, and would continue to weigh on his mind.  He swallowed hard.

     "Scully, tell me what you remember."

     For a moment he didn't think she would answer.

     "Pain."

     The word seemed dragged out of her and Mulder flinched at the sound, almost wishing he hadn't asked.

     He moved to her side, watching her profile as she spoke.  "I was leaving a message on your machine when I heard something outside my window, so I pulled the blinds apart to look.  He was standing outside, Duane Barry.  I don't know how long he'd been out there, but the moment he saw me, he flung his arm through the window.  I remember pieces of glass hitting me on the chest and arms, then his foot was hitting what was left of the glass in the frame. I tried to get out of the way, but I had stood there too long.  He was through it before I could get away."

     Scully glanced sideways at him then turned back to stare into the flames, her arms crossed over her chest protectively.  "I didn't know what to do, so I just kept screaming into the phone, hoping you would come in and hear me.  I knew that even if you did, you'd never get there in time to help me, but it was all I could think of, letting you know what was happening."

     "Scully..."  Mulder reached out to her, but she backed away.  "Don't. Just let me finish."  The look she gave him pleaded for his understanding, asked him to be just a little patient.

     "The first time I woke up, I was in the trunk of a car.  It was dark and cold, and I could smell the exhaust seeping through the carpet under me.  Barry had the radio playing so loudly that my head hurt. 

     "I didn't know where we were or how long we had been driving, but I heard sirens behind us.  When the car stopped and the radio went dead I stayed quiet for a minute.  I wasn't sure what was going on at that moment, then I heard a police officer shouting at Barry to get out of the car.  I started kicking the side of the car so hard that the echo hurt my ears, but I knew I had to get the attention of whoever was out there.  Then I heard the gunshot."

Scully closed her eyes and Mulder touched her shoulder.  This time she didn't move away, but left it there.  When she looked up, there was a fresh layer of pain in her eyes.

     "Barry killed that trooper because of me.  Because I held his attention long enough for Barry to shoot him."  She chewed her bottom lip nervously, a habit Mulder hadn't noticed her doing for a while.  "If I'd just stayed quiet, he might still be alive."

     "You had to take the chance, Scully."  He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.  "You had no way of knowing Barry would shoot him."

     "I know, Mulder, but it doesn't help."

     Scully was so quiet for so long that he was surprised when she started speaking again.  "The next time I woke up, I was on a wide, flat table.  It was black with narrow luminescent lines running across the surface.  I couldn't move, but I couldn't feel any physical restraints either, so I don't know what was holding me down.  I just know that I couldn't move."

     She flinched involuntarily and Mulder noticed her hand go to her stomach.  "They put something inside me, some kind of probe I think, stuck it right through my stomach."  She looked at Mulder and he was shocked by the pain in her eyes.  "I couldn't scream.  I tried, just to release some of the pain, but I couldn't make a sound."

     Mulder watched as her eyes filled with tears and she blinked them back, turning toward the fire once more.  "The last thing I recall was waking up in an all white room.  There was an orderly standing over me.  I felt a sting in my upper arm then everything went black again.  I must have drifted in and out of consciousness for days before I came to in the hospital."

     He touched her arm. "That's all you remember?"

     Scully moved away from him slightly.  "That's all I want to remember, Mulder."  She turned her back to him and looked out to window at the rapidly falling snow outside the cabin.  He saw her hands clench behind her back, but didn't think she was aware of doing it.  "I can't face any more right now.  Not even for you."

     Mulder closed his eyes and tried to fight down the feeling or helplessness in his chest.  "I'm sorry, Dana.  If I hadn't given you that piece of metal..."

     "It's over.  I just want to get on with my life."

     "That's why you put in for a transfer."

     Dana looked surprised.  "How...?"

     "Skinner told me this morning.  That's another reason I came up here, to try to talk you into coming back to the X-Files."  She started to say something but he held up his hand.  "I'm not going to try and talk you out of the transfer now.  If you change your mind, then I'll thank whatever powers that be, but if not, I want you to know that I understand your reasons."

     Dana looked relieved.  "Thank you, Mulder."

     He looked down at his hands, which were clenched in front of him.  "I never meant for any of this to happen, Scully.  I never wanted you to be hurt because of my actions."

     She didn't say a word, just waited for him to look up then nodded. 

     Mulder moved toward the door, gathering his coat from the arm of a chair on the way, but Dana stopped him before he could open the door. 

     "Why don't you stay here tonight.  It's snowing heavily and you have a long drive back.  You can sleep on the couch."

     "Are you sure?"  Mulder looked at her, uncertain whether she meant the offer.

     Dana nodded. "I'll grab some blankets and a pillow."

     Moments later, Mulder was bedded down on the couch as Dana flipped out the lights.  He buried his face in the pillow she had given him, the faint smell of her still lingering in the bedding.  He closed his eyes, but the action did nothing to block out the sight of the pain on her face as she had told him what happened to her.  He knew he would never get the image out of his head.  Mulder put a hand over his eyes and once again cursed his photographic memory.

 

 

     It seemed that he had just drifted off to sleep when he first heard the sounds from the bedroom.  Muffled noises came out of the room and sent a cold shill down his spine.  Automatically, Mulder reached for his gun and slipped it from the holster.  Dana's bedroom door was closed and he hesitated a moment before trying the knob.  The door opened to reveal her sitting up, leaning against the headboard.  Her shoulders were shaking and she was huddled into a ball. 

     "Scully, are you okay?"

     He could barely see her in the dim light of the room, but he thought she nodded. 

     "I'm fine."  Her voice was hoarse, broken and he started to approach, but she waved him away.  "Just go back to sleep, Mulder."

     He started to move away when he heard her catch her breath in a low sob, the sound so muffled he knew she had tried to hide it.  He glanced back toward the bed and only hesitated a moment before making up his mind.

     It took two steps to get to the bed and he laid his hand on her shoulder.  "Scully...I'm sorry."

     He didn't know what to say, and that damned phrase seemed so inadequate, but it was all he had.  He felt her hand reach up and squeeze his then he sat down beside her, an ache building in his chest as she looked up at him.  There was enough light in the room to see this close up, and he suddenly wished it were darker.  The pain reflected in her face cut him to the core.  It hurt so much when someone you loved was in pain and there was nothing you could do, and Mulder was honest enough with himself in that moment to acknowledge that he loved Dana Scully.  If he could take her pain away, he would, no matter the cost to himself. 

     He reached up to brush a strand of hair away from her cheek and saw her eyes fill with tears.  "Dana..."  he said the word on a whisper and she moved into his outstretched arms, crying softly.  He let her cry, feeling her body shaking against him, and held her as though she were made of glass, the most precious thing on earth to him.  Long after the last of her tears were shed, she stayed there in his arms, her hand creeping up to lay against his neck, fingers soft against his throat. 

     Dana didn't know exactly when the atmosphere changed from one of him comforting her to one very different.  The pulse point at the base of his throat beat strongly against her fingertips and she could hear the steady beat of his heart under her ear.  Cautiously, she looked up into Mulder's face, not knowing exactly what she expected, but surprised to see how dark his eyes had gotten.  The desire she saw there entranced her and she raised her hand to his face, placing her fingertips along his cheek.  A flash of heat shot through her when Mulder turned his head to the side and placed a warm kiss in the center of her palm, his eyes never leaving hers.

     Dana closed her eyes, mind and body at war.  This was what she had wanted, for longer than she cared to admit.  It felt so right, there in his arms.  It felt safe, and she wanted nothing more than to burrow into that safety and never come out.  Then his arms tightened around her, and the tiny voice in the back of her lizard brain exploded into full alert.   Breaking out of his embrace, she scooted to the other side of the wide four-poster, arms crossed over her knees defensively.  Her head hurt, a sharp pounding in her brain that wouldn't stop but still couldn't block the pictures trying to overwhelm her.

     "Scully?"  He sounded hurt, but she was beyond caring.  Eyes wide, she stared somewhere at something he couldn't see.

     "Scully, what is it?  What's wrong?"  Mulder started to move closer to her, then stopped.  Something had frightened her, and the only thing he could think of was his presence.  Moving slowly, he backed towards the door.  "I'll be just outside, Scully.  If you want to come and talk, I'll be right here."  He knew, watching her curled up like a lost kitten, that he wouldn't be going home in the morning.  Something was wrong here, something beyond the trust he had unthinkingly fractured, and he would be damned if he'd leave her now.

 

 

     She felt him leaving the room, and part of her cried out for the loss of that warmth, that security.  But another part of her cowered in the corner of that cold white room, angry and afraid, and wanted only to be left alone.

 

                   **  **  X  **  **

 

     Mulder woke to the sound of water running.  He lay on the uncomfortable sofa and stared at the ceiling.  He had waited for hours, hoping against hope that Scully would come to him.  But she had remained in her bedroom, silent as death.  His mind shied away from the simile, but the fact remained.  She hadn't moved from the position he had left her in, at least not until after sleep had finally claimed him.

     Now, in the faint morning light, he reviewed the situation, trying to force his mind to work with the facts, not his jumbled emotions.  The facts, simply put, were A) that Scully didn't want him here, but B) she needed him.  Otherwise she would just withdraw into herself even further.  So he would be staying.  A + B = C.  Easy enough. 

     Convincing her this was a good idea was going to be the tricky part.

     Groaning, he eased his body off the sofa and grabbed his sweater off the chair.  "Hey Scully, where's the heat in this place?  You were maybe expecting polar bears?"

    

     Standing in the shower, Dana tuned out all noises except the falling water.  The steam rising around her soothed sore muscles, relieving some of the tension she lived with constantly.  She knew it was foolish -- they were done with her.  They wouldn't be coming back.  But she still looked over her shoulder so many times she felt as though there was a permanent hinge in her neck.  Handy in a stakeout she thought to herself, head bowed to let the water slick over her.  Just call me owl-head.   She ran the soap over her body, unconsciously avoiding the patches of scar tissue, and rinsed one final time.  Turning off the water, she reached though the curtain for the towel.  Her groping hand passed over the leather of her holster, stuffed between the wall and the towel rack, and settled on the thick terry material.

      Drying off, she could hear the sounds of Mulder rummaging though the kitchen.  "Hey, Scully, you leave me any hot water?" he yelled through the door.  The thought of Mulder in there, sharing the steamy air, brought a prickle to Dana's skin that had nothing to do with the temperature outside.  She closed her eyes, remembering the scene last night, and decided to stay in the bathroom indefinitely.  He'd have to leave eventually -- there wasn't any coffee in the cabin, and she'd yet to see Mulder get a coherent sentence out without a cup to jumpstart him.  She could change the locks then.  And this time she wouldn't let him back in.

Dana knew there were things going on that she had to deal with, she just wanted to deal with them her way, in her own time.  And she wouldn't be able to do that with Mulder hovering, feeding her anger at the same time he made her want to erase that guilt from his eyes and replace it with the passion she had sensed last night.

     "He makes me crazy" she said to her reflection.  "Absolutely crazy."

     "Scully?  You alive in there?  Where'd you hide the coffee?"

     She couldn't help it.  The first snort of laughter escaped, and then it became a flood of giggles, making her sink to the tile floor and convulse with laughter.

     The door opened slowly, and Mulder stuck his head around.  "Scully?"

     Then he saw her on the floor, wrapped in a towel that barely covered her, hands over her mouth and a tiny glimmer of glee in her eyes.  "Was it something I said?"

     She lost it again, the laughter bordering on hysterics.  "Go away, Mulder" she managed finally, waving him off.  The towel slipped a little, and Mulder backed off quickly, closing the door behind him before she realized how much damp skin was showing.

     "We're going out for breakfast" he told her through the closed door, his voice sounding strained to his own ears.  "So hurry up and get dressed, before I starve to death."

 

                   **  **  X  ** ** 

 

     Mulder sat back in the booth at the local Dunkin' Donuts and watched Scully pick at her croissant.  She was twitchy as a republican under indictment, shredding her food rather than eating it.  "If this is how you've been eating," he scolded her, "I'm going to have to tie you down and feed you by hand.  And that could get messy."  She smiled, but it was a pared-down version of her usual smile, and did nothing to lift the fear that had been clogging his chest since he saw her last night by the light of the fire, looking so abandoned, even though it had been Scully who had done the abandoning.

     That moment of laughter in the bathroom might as well never have been, she changed moods so rapidly.  One minute she was cool and remote, the next clinging to him, the next...  It was giving him a headache behind the eyes, trying to keep up.  Right now, he was sure, she was counting the moments until she could get rid of him.  He hadn't broken it to her yet that he was there for the duration.

     "Mulder."  Her voice was quiet, but it broke through his preoccupation immediately.  "Yeah?"

     She swallowed once.  "Do you..." she started again.  "Do you have any vacation time you could take?  Just, just for a while?"  She didn't look at him, instead concentrating on rearranging the shreds of pastry left on her plate.  He reached over and took her hands between his own, the fear melting away to be replaced by a terrifying sort of joy.  "As much time as you need."

     Dana felt the tears start.  This time, she didn't try to stop them. 

     "Scully."  The hands around hers tightened until she looked up at him.  "I love you."  He grinned, that little-boy grin that had been the only thing worth seeing when she had let Nurse Owens talk her into returning to the outside world.  "This wasn't exactly the place I'd planned to tell you," and he cast a wry grin around the deserted storefront, "but I never was much on timing, anyway."

     She stared at him, mouth open.  He freed one hand and lifted it to her chin, closing her mouth gently.  "I just wanted you to know."

     At his words, and more, at the tenderness with which they were said, the calmness she had cultivated as protection, the facade that had cracked when she first saw him standing in her doorway, crumbled completely, and she couldn't bear it. 

     "Get me out of here" she said in a harsh whisper, the panic showing in her eyes.  "Now."

     Mulder heard the urgency in her voice and wasted no time, pulling her out of the booth and half-carrying her to the door.  She made it to the recently-shoveled path, and then her body turned traitor on her, crumpling into Mulder's arms.  He scooped her up, barely missing a beat, and carried her to the security of the 4-wheel drive vehicle he had rented in D.C. after hearing the latest weather report for Vermont.  Making sure that she was securely fastened, Mulder got in on the driver's side and started the car, breaking all speed limits and safety considerations to get her home.

    

                        **  **  X  **  **

 

 

     Mulder cupped his hands around the steaming mug and breathed in the scent of chocolate floating up.  Six days without coffee, and he was still able to function.  He wouldn't have believed it.  But there hadn't been a chance to get into town and buy supplies.  Scully wasn't up to the trip, and he wouldn't leave her alone for even the hour such a trip would take.

     She came out of the bedroom just then, as though his thoughts had called her.  Wearing a worn sweatshirt and jeans, she looked more like a college student than anything else.  Then he read the slogan on the sweatshirt and almost choked.  "You don't know me -- Federal Witness Protection Plan," he read in disbelief.

     "Yeah."  Dana sounded resigned.  "My baby brother has an odd sense of humor.  He got it for me my first Christmas working for the Bureau."

     Her smile was a little more relaxed now, her posture less tense.  She still wouldn't tell him what memories were coming back, but she let him hold her through the worst of the nightmares, and that seemed to help.  He had let her set the pace for the first week, never asking for more than she was willing to give.  Now it was time to push a little.

     "Come here," he said, patting the sofa next to him.  She sat obediently, and he took the brush from her hand.  Settling her comfortably, he ran the brush gently though her hair, occasionally putting it down to untangle the threads with his fingers.  He took those chances to memorize the texture of her hair, the scent of her shampoo, caressing her until he could feel the tension leave her body completely. 

     "Talk to me," he said, pulling the brush through now-smooth hair with mesmerizing slowness.  "Talk to me, Dana."

     She knew what he wanted.  "I'm in a room.  They put me there after -- after the probe.    It's white...cold.  I know that there's a door, but I can't find it.  I can't...  People come in and out.  They talk to each other, not to me.  It's like I'm not even there.  I lie there and wait for them to notice me.  I'm not afraid... not anymore.  But it hurts, Mulder.  It hurts so badly I want to go away someplace where it won't hurt anymore.  So when they give me a shot that makes me sleep, I just let go."

     Mulder continued brushing, even though her hair was smooth as silk by now.  "Where did you go?" 

     "There was water, and trees.  I've been there before, but I can't remember when.  There isn't anyone around.  It's so quiet, so peaceful.  I never wanted to leave.  I really resented her telling me I had to."

     Mulder was startled, but didn't let his body react.  "Her, who?"

     "Nurse Owens.  Only there isn't any Nurse Owens.  She kept talking to me, telling me I had to go back.  But I wasn't going to.  I could hear everyone, but it was so far away, and the water was so peaceful.  And then."  Dana stopped.  "I wanted to go with him, but he walked away, and I couldn't follow.  They wouldn't let me go with him."

     Mulder put the brush down and caressed her arms gently.  He didn't have to ask who "him" was.  "We're glad you came back," he said softly, letting his breath warm her neck, then moved away, careful not to crowd her.  He'd already noted that close contact seemed to trigger something painful in her memories, so he tried to keep a few inches of space between them at all times.  It was difficult, when all he wanted was to feel her skin against his, taste the life flowing through her, and reassure himself that she was still there, still with him. 

     He'd worried, at first, that he was projecting his feelings about Samantha onto Scully, letting her take the brunt of his emotions.  But, somewhat to his surprise, he found that he could separate the two easily.  The emotions that were running through him now, that had been since the night of her abduction, had nothing brotherly about them.  And he had been a fool not to realize it before.

     "Mulder?"

     "Yeah?"

     She swallowed, pulled away from him a little more.  "There's... there's something else."  She got up, walked across the room and sat in a chair facing him, her legs curled up underneath.  "I remember..."  One finger curled into her hair, twisting the strands he had so patiently brushed out.  Her eyes focused on something Mulder couldn't see, off in the distance.  "Barry pulled me out of the car.  It was dark, and he couldn't see where he was going very well, so we fell a lot.  Then."  Her voice dipped, then strengthened.  "Then he started running, dragging me behind him.  We were going uphill, really fast.  There was a burst of light.  Noise.  I broke away from him, ran.  There was something up ahead, something behind.  I didn't know where to go.  Something grabbed me.  I could hear Barry's voice, and more noise, like machines.  Then...  They must have given me something, because I blacked out again.  But..."  She stopped and looked directly at him.  "Mulder, what was up ahead.  It wasn't... it wasn't the same as what was behind.  Something else was waiting that night, on the mountain."  She saw him hear her words, saw them sink in.  "You think..."  He couldn't finish the thought.

     "Duane Barry was abducted and experimented on by some government branch. As was I.  Nothing else makes sense.  But they weren't the only force up there." She shook her head in wonder.  "Mulder, I could feel them."  She paused, looking off into he distance.  "I wonder what would have happened, if I had kept going."

     "You wouldn't have come back." Mulder said harshly.

     "No.  I don't suppose I would have."  She shook her head, a small smile turning the corners of her mouth up reluctantly.  "Listen to me, Mulder.  A year ago I would have had me committed."  He smiled back at her, his fingers slowly unclenching from the handle of the brush.  "And now...?"

     "I still think reincarnation is hooey."

     "Hooey?"  He laughed.  "What else?"

     "Ninty-nine percent of claimed psychic abilities can be attributed to normal circumstances or trickery."

     "Ninety-nine, so you're still allowing for one percent to be actual phenomena."

     "One percent that can't be conclusively disproven," she corrected him.  "And there's no such thing as the Jersey Devil."

     Mulder bowed his head, acknowledging the hit.  "What about Nessie?"

     She hesitated, and his head lifted.  "Ah-hah!  Agent Scully thinks there's something at the bottom of Loch Ness!"

     "I'll deny it under oath," she warned him.  She watched his eyes crinkle as he laughed, and could feel even more of the coldness within her melting away.  She felt exposed, painfully so, telling him her memories, but Mulder had been right.  Out in the open, spoken aloud, they didn't have as much power over her.  And Mulder's presence soothed the rawness they left behind, filling the spaces with better memories of long walks in the snow, and whispered conversations about nothing at all in front of the fireplace.  Dana smiled, thinking about how delicately he handled her during their one snowfight, carefully aiming all of his snowballs to her left until she had landed one smack in his face.  Then a wicked grin had curled those tempting lips, and she had to look sharp to avoid a face full of soft-packed powder.

     But there was still something crawling in the mental sludge left behind by her abduction, something she couldn't -- wouldn't -- bring into the light just yet.  And Dana was terrified what would happen when she finally did.

      

                   **  **  X  **  **

 

 

 

     "Mulder!"

     He was there, holding her gently, letting the tears soak through his shirt.  She had slept for maybe an hour before the dreams had started, and he had been waiting ever since then, watching her toss and turn until she woke up and called for him.

     "It's all right, Scully.  I'm here.  I'm here, and nobody's going to hurt you.  I won't let them."

     She reached up, pulling his head down to hers, attacking his mouth with such a ferocity that he was taken aback for a second.  His lips parted, and she thrust her tongue inside, darting everywhere.  'She's still half-asleep' he told himself.  'She doesn't realize...'

     Her hands went to his shirt, fumbling with the buttons, and Mulder realized he had to make a decision, fast.

     "Scully, slow down.  Sweetheart..."

     She pulled back, looked at him with eyes red with tears.  "Please, Mulder.  I need this memory to fill," she broke off, couldn't continue.  "Please."  She bit her lower lip, hating herself for begging.  "If you really love me..."

     He groaned, pushing her back to the bed.  All the self-control in the world wasn't proof against the need in her eyes, or the quaver in her voice.   

     The kiss he gave her was gentle, trying to calm her, but she didn't want gentle.  Her hands grasped his shirt and she arched off the bed against him, trying to work the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms.  He sat up and shrugged out of it, his hands quickly undoing the buttons on her pajama top until he could peel back the lapels.  He could feel her under his palms, her skin soft and supple as he ran his hands lightly over her shoulders and neck.  He pressed his mouth to the base of her throat, her heart beating rapidly against his lips.  Its beat was fast, too fast and he pulled back to look into her face.  The need was still there in her eyes, but there were traces of something else, a fear of something clouding that desire. 

     Her hands clutched his upper arms tightly.  "Mulder, help me.  Help me replace the hurting with something else.  Something good..."  The tears she couldn't hold back slowly slid down her face, her lower lip shaking as she tried so hard not to break down and cry. 

     The pain in her voice ripped into him like dull knives, turning the passion into concern.  He sat up, leaning back against the headboard of the four poster and pulled her close to his chest, both his arms around her waist.  "Get it out, Scully.  Tell me what happened to make you so frightened."

     Scully shook her head against his chest.  "I can't."

     "Yes you can.  You can tell me anything, Dana.  I'm here for you.  I'll always be here.  Let me take some of the memories away from you, sweetheart."  Mulder stroked the hair away from her face in a soothing motion, the tenderness of his caress her undoing, and she started to speak in a low, harsh whisper.

     "I kept waking up in the white room.  They had cut back on the dosage of whatever was in the shots to make me sleep a couple of days earlier, but I was still woozy.  And they always kept the nighttime restraints on me.  I woke up in the dark once..."  Scully swallowed hard and pressed herself closer to his chest, her body shaking against him.  "He was an orderly, at least I think he was an orderly, and I remember seeing him a couple of times before, but the memories of those times are fuzzy.  This was the first time I remember seeing him clearly."

     She was quiet for a moment and Mulder fought the anger welling up inside him, his hands tensing over her abdomen, instinctively knowing what had happened to her and wanting to yell at her to stop.  To tell her that he couldn't stand to hear any more, but also knowing that if he stopped her now, she would bottle this memory up and let it eat at her forever.  So he forced his hands to relax against her and let her continue.

     "It's all right, sweetheart.  Tell me the rest."  He kept his voice calm and reassuring through willpower alone.

     He felt her take a deep, fortifying breath.  "He had his hands on me, running them over me, and his face was close to mine when I woke up.  I could smell him, this sickly sweet aftershave.  I couldn't breathe for the smell.  I just lay there, hoping he would go away, but he didn't."  Mulder heard her voice break and tightened his hold on her.  "He licked my face and I couldn't help it.  I moved away, wanting to scream, but I didn't get the chance to.  His hand was over my mouth before I could make a noise." 

     Dana's hands clenched and unclenched over and over in frustration as she talked.  "He kept talking to me, telling me what he was going to do to me, and he had a scalpel.  He told me he had taken it off one of the surgery trays."  Her breath caught on a sob.  "He put it against my face...God, Mulder, I can still feel how cold it was...and then he lifted my breast and cut me.  It stung, but the blade was so sharp that I didn't realize how deeply he had cut until I felt the blood running down my side."  Her hand automatically went to the small scar just under her right breast.  "Then he cut me here," her hand moved lower, covering the scar on her stomach. 

     "He was laughing when he did it, Mulder.  Saying I couldn't do anything about it."  She closed her eyes and the next words were nothing more than a whisper.  "He was right.  I couldn't scream.  I was too scared."

     "Did he...?"  Mulder couldn't finish, and was relieved when she answered the question for him.

     "A night nurse walked in and found him there.  She had him escorted out and cleaned me up, then left again.  No one ever asked me any questions and they ignored me when I tried to tell them what he had done.  After a while, I simply blocked it out, told myself it never happened.  I almost believed it -- until the dreams started again."

     Mulder shifted her weight until he could slip a hand under the lapel of her open pajama top, sliding his palm up the smooth skin until his fingers came into contact with the ridge of scar tissue under her breast.  He ran a soothing finger over the area and felt her stiffen against him..  "You survived, Scully.  I'm thankful for that.  These are a testament to how strong you are, to how much courage you have."  He trailed his hand down to the scar on her stomach and touched it just as gently.  "They give me another reason to love you."

     His arms tightened around her and this time he felt her body slump against his chest, letting him take the memory as she released the hurt and frustration.  He held her long after she had cried herself to sleep in his arms.

 

                       **  **  X  **  **

 

     Dana woke with a sense of peace she hadn't felt since she was returned.  She started to stretch before she realized it was impossible.  There was a moment of panic, then she realized her immobility was due to the fact that Mulder had his arm wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her against his body as though afraid she would slip away from him in the middle of the night.  A small smile crossed her face.  As though she would leave him.  She looked down to see his hand splayed across her ribs, his fingers cupping her breast gently, and the sight made her heart beat a little faster.  Her first reaction was to move the hand and button her pajamas, but she decided against it.  This was better.

     Careful not to wake him, she turned on her side and watched for a while as he slept.  For the first time since she woke up in the hospital, she had made it through the night without the dreams haunting her and she had Mulder to thank for it.  He had held her, taking her pain as his own, and kept her safe during the telling.  Just as he had promised.

     She laid a hand softly against his cheek.  The love she had for this man wasn't the blinding kind that was here and gone like quicksilver.  It was much deeper, much richer than any love she had experienced.  He meant more to her than she would have ever thought possible, and the fact that she was loved in return brought a tearful smile to her lips.

     She lay quietly next to him for long moments before he stirred, moving slowly into wakefulness.  He looked up at her and smiled.  "Morning, Scully."

     She didn't say a word, just slipped a hand behind his head and pulled him to her, kissing him softly.  There was none of the urgency of last night's kiss, only a gentle exploration of his mouth.  Mulder lay there, willing his body to stillness, half-afraid that the wrong move on his part would cause her to retreat again.  He felt her tongue run along the inside of his upper lip, and a soft groan escaped him.  He could feel her lips curve in a smile against his own, then her tongue was inside his mouth, flicking everywhere in a rhythm that had his groin tightening in response.

      Just when he thought he was going to explode from the tension, Scully pulled away from him, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose before hooking her thumbs into the waist of her pajamas and sliding them off.  Mulder lay there and watched pale skin appear before him, feeling his mouth dry out, then water like a starving man shown a feast.  He might have taken care of his physical needs, but, he acknowledged to himself, this went far beyond the physical.  At that moment he wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside Dana, to be a part of her, and to never let her escape him.  If he could only be sure that she saw him there, not just a way to replace old memories with new...

     "I don't think this is what your mother sent me up here for" he said, even as he was reaching for her.  Dana smiled, her hands going to his jeans.  "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

     "She needs you, Fox."

     Mulder shifted so that the jeans slid off easily and fell onto the floor.  "Mother's intuition?  Or something... spookier?"

     Dana put her hands against his shoulders and pushed him back down onto the bed.  "Right now, Mulder, the last thing I want to talk about it my mother.  Matter of fact, I don't want to talk at all."  She lowered her mouth to his, hesitating a fraction of an inch away from his mouth.  "I can think of much better things to do with our mouths than talk."

     He looked up into her grey-green eyes and felt the last niggling fears fade away.  She was there, really there, and was reaching for him.  Whatever happened next was strictly between them, and her memories -- and the rest of the world -- could go to hell.

     Reaching up, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her body tight against his, taking possession of her mouth in a kiss that was fiercer than he intended.  But she didn't flinch away, her fingers tangling in his hair, drawing him even closer. 

     Forcing his hands to relax, he slid open palms down the smooth skin of her back, capturing her lower lip between his teeth and tugging at it playfully.  She laughed, deep in her throat, and they both felt his erection surge against her.

     Wriggling free, Dana sat up, straddling his thighs.  She looked down, and a faint blush stained her still-pale cheeks even as one eyebrow raised in mock astonishment.  "Why, grandma..." she said teasingly.  One hand reached down to stroke his length, and Mulder arched against the bed, trying desperately to recall the last Redskins touchdown, the last Caps game, anything to keep himself from responding prematurely.

     "Scully," he said, his voice harsh.  "Don't..."

     She flicked her thumb across the head, and he groaned, closing his eyes to focus better on the Redskins game.  Then he felt the soft warmth of her mouth touch him, and his control shattered.

     "Oh, jesus..." he said in embarrassment.  Dana wiped him off with the corner of the flannel sheet, then dropped a kiss on the still-hard shaft.  "Feel better?" she asked, eyes meeting his squarely.

     "No," he growled, pushing himself off the bed and rolling her over so that she was trapped beneath him.  "I don't feel better at all.  I want to be inside you.  I want to see your eyes cloud over.  I want to feel you move against me, tighten around me.  I want to hear you call out my name."  He punctuated each sentence with a kiss, his hands cupping her breasts.  "I want to drive everything else out of your mind except here, now, me."  Callused thumbs rubbed against her nipples, causing her to draw a sharp breath.  Mulder dropped his head, pausing briefly to suckle each nipple in turn, then moved further down, his tongue following the line of the scar under her breast.

     Dana jerked involuntarily, but the expected flood of memories didn't come.  Instead, she felt the warmth of his tongue against her skin, heard the beating of his heart.  His fingers caressed her hips, drawing intricate whorls along the sensitive skin of her thighs until she couldn't think for the pounding of blood in her ears. 

     "Mulder..."  she whispered, glorying in the almost-painful warmth spreading between her legs.  "Please."

     She felt his fingers enter her slowly, teasingly, rubbing gently against the slickness growing there.  She arched against his hand, hooking her legs across the backs of his knees.

     Mulder thought for half a second about prolonging the game, but realized that neither of them was going to last that long.  All the fears, the self-doubt and self-condemnation, faded away as he poised himself over her, one hand lifting her chin so that she looked up into his eyes.  Caught in that gaze, Dana felt a flood of warmth wash over her, followed by a tingle of anticipation.  All those dreams, and she hadn't gotten half of the feeling right.  Not even half.  Dana wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her body, taking him inside as smoothly as if they'd been lovers for years.  Her eyes closed briefly, then she opened them again to find Mulder staring down into her face.

     "Scully..."

     "I love you, Mulder" she said softly, her hands pulling him down for another kiss.  He responded, not in words, but in action, hands sliding under her, cupping her buttocks as he slowly withdrew, then pushed into her once again.  A few repetitions, and he could feel her breathing change, becoming harsher, less measured.  "Mulder."  The sound of his name, in that husky, fogged-sounding voice, was more than he could handle.  How many times had he though about what she would sound like under him?  And how many times had he told himself that they were just daydreams, that she and he would never, could never...  he realized suddenly that he had lost control of his body, rocking into her so violently he knew a moment of fear, that he might be hurting her.

     "Yes, like that.  God, Mulder..."  Her fingers were digging into his shoulders, urging him back into her again and again.  He felt her arch up against him, her fingers clenching, and then a spasm that shook her from the inside out.  He slowed slightly, letting her regain her breath.  When her eyes opened again, he  took one breast into his mouth, sucking and pulling until her body was quivering against his.  He transferred his attention to the other breast, his hands on her backside still holding them together.

     Dana ran her hands down his back, coaxing him on.  Her fingernails scratched along his lower spine, eliciting a low moan from him.  Fascinated, she did it again, a little harder.  He bit down lightly on one nipple, and she jumped, then giggled.  Mulder thrust upward once, and the giggle turned into a gasp.  He raised his head, waiting for the haze to clear from her eyes before flexing his hips again.  Satisfied that the gasp was one of enjoyment, not pain, he shifted his body so that his hands were braced against the pillow, his body canted at an angle above her.  Slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, he stroked back and forth, almost leaving her body only to slick back in.  Dana reached backwards to cover his hands with her own, her body arching upward, hardened nipples rasping against his chest.  The bed creaked, shifted.  He felt her knees lift, heels digging into the sheets, and increased his rhythm to match her hunger.  They lost track of time, heard nothing but their own breathing, saw nothing but each other.  Dana would have sworn that nothing existed outside that bed, nothing mattered beyond the furnace threatening to implode within her.

     "Let go, Mulder.  I want to feel you come with me," she urged, trying to hold off on the quake she could feel building throughout her body.  Mulder shook his head, hair falling into his eyes.  "Too risky," he whispered, taking one rock-hard nipple into his mouth and closing his teeth gently on it.  She gasped, her body bucking under his.  "Come on, sweetheart," he coaxed her, working on the other nipple until she moaned.  His fingers tangling in her hair, he brought her head up off the pillow as he thrust one last time, hearing her call out his name as she climaxed around him.  He pulled out the instant after, noting with a small portion of his mind that they were definitely going to have to wash the sheets. 

     There was another creak, this one louder.  Mulder collapsed, his head sinking onto Dana's chest even as the bedframe groaned around them and collapsed to the floor.  There was a moment of stunned silence, then Dana started to giggle.  "Did the bed move for you, too?"

                   **  **  X  **  **

 

     Dana stood by the window and watched the snow fall.  She let the curtain drop, and turned back in time to see Mulder come out of the bathroom, toweling his hair briskly.  He was barechested, his jeans riding low on his hips.  They had been washed so many times in the past ten days, she kept worrying that they were going to fade away to nothing.  His underwear had already started to show signs of fraying, so Mulder had stopped wearing it.  She didn't see any need to tell him about the pile of underwear and socks stored on the dresser with the rest of her brothers' old clothes.

     "Is it still snowing?"

     "Mmm hmm" she said.  "Maybe a foot already.  But the weather report said it should stop by tonight."  She went to the fireplace and put another log on the fire.  "We should be able to get to the car tomorrow."

     "Scully, are you sure?"

     She turned to face him, brushing the soot from her hands.  "The worst is over now, I think.  And I need to get back to work."

     Mulder sat down in the leather recliner, towel draped over one knee.  She had said work, not the X Files.  He didn't know what that meant, didn't know how to respond.  "You still have time left on your leave," he said.  "Are you sure..."

     "Mulder."  She shook her head.  "I came up here to hide.  You wouldn't let me do that in peace" and she smiled at him so lovingly he felt his breath catch in his chest, "so there's no real reason to stay.  At least if Mother Nature lets us out.  Besides, you've already been away too long.  I can just imagine what the office looks like."  She paused to consider.  "Although how anybody could tell, the way you pretend to file things..."

     Mulder refused to be distracted.  There were still too many things she wasn't telling him, details she was keeping hidden.  Nurse Owens, for one.  Mulder knew that he had memorized the name and face of everyone who cared for Scully during her coma, and there wasn't any Owens on the staff.  Scully had admitted as much to him.  But when he pressed her for details, she would refuse to say anything more, and change the subject.  Usually by leading him into the spare bedroom where they seemed to spend most of their time these days. "Scully..."

     She picked up the towel and dropped it to the floor, sitting on his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck.  "Mulder, please.  You promised me that you'd let me do this my way.  And my way is to work."

     Mulder nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth of that.  It was part of what had worried him, her sudden desire to isolate herself.  So he should be glad that she felt like getting back into the thick of things.  Shouldn't he?

     Her hands moved over his chest, fingernails scratching lightly against his nipples, and he felt the answering sensation in his groin.  "What are you doing now?"

     Scully smiled mischievously.  "What does it feel like I'm doing?"  She lowered her head and flicked one flat nipple with her tongue, eliciting a low rumble deep in his throat.  She raised her head and looked straight into his eyes, their normally light hazel color turning the grey green color becoming so familiar to him and her hands moved to the front of her blouse.  Slowly, one by one she undid the buttons, her eyes never leaving his, her lips slightly parted.  He almost groaned out loud when the tip of her tongue touched her bottom lip, leaving it moist and tempting.  She moved in his lap until she sat facing him, her bottom on his upper thighs, her legs on either side of his hips, knees over the chair arms.

     "Scully, we need to talk."

     His mouth was covered before he could continue, effectively silenced with a kiss. "I don't want to talk.  I want to feel."  She grasped his hands and brought them under her blouse to her breasts, using her fingers to guide his as they cupped the soft flesh. 

     "I want your hands on me, your body inside me again."  She leaned forward and whispered the words against his mouth, all the while using her hands to mold his around her breast.  "I want to feel this again, Mulder.  One more night of just us before we go back to the real world." Her eyes dark and languid, Scully brushed her lips across his, slowly, gently, and moaned deep in her throat.   Mulder started to deepen the kiss, but she backed away slightly, arching so that her nipples pressed into his palms, already hardening to his touch.  In doing so, she let the blouse slip from her shoulders to slide over her arms and down his legs until it landed in a little heap at his feet. 

     Backlit by the fire, her skin glowed pale ivory against his hands, the sight of her slow movement into his hands as he caressed her so erotic that his breath caught in his throat.  Talk, hell...  He flicked the rosy points with his thumbs, feeling a white hot spark of desire burn into him when she gasped softly. 

     Scully grasped the chair arms, her fingers digging into the leather when he moved his hands to her back and replaced his fingers with the wet heat of his mouth.  He drew her in, nipping the tender flesh lightly between his teeth, and felt her draw a deep breath which escaped a second later in the form of a quiet whimper. 

     Mulder raised his head and watched her reaction as he cupped her bottom in his hands, kneading the curve of her buttocks through the jeans she wore before sliding them back up to her waist.  Her abdomen tensed beneath his touch, his fingers following the soft skin above her waistband until he reached the fastening on her jeans and flipped it open with a quick movement of his fingers.  The soft sound of the zipper sliding down had her looking into his eyes, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.  Hands digging into the chair arm, she gasped softly when he slid his hand between body and clothing, his fingers sliding into the moist warmth between her thighs.  The teasing strokes of his fingers grew faster and rougher until she threw her head back, only to find Mulder's hand there forcing it back up. 

     Fingers tangled in her hair, he held her head up.  "Look at me, Scully."  Her eyes popped open.  "I want to see the look on your face as you come.  Let me watch your eyes go dark for me."

     Dana pushed her hips toward him, his hand moving faster against her until she could feel the pressure in her abdomen near to bursting.   "Come for me, sweetheart.  Let me see it."

     The words pushed her over the edge and she stiffened in his hands, a hoarse cry clawing its way out of her throat as her body met with release.  Shaking, she leaned forward against Mulder, who wrapped both arms around her and stood, heading to the bedroom. 

     She barely had time to catch her breath as he lay her down on the spare bed with its old iron bedstead and stripped the jeans and underwear from her body.  She heard him unzipping his jeans and opened her eyes.  He was magnificent naked.  The thought struck her that she had never imagined he looked like this under those loose fitting suits of his.  A slow smile spread across her face as she let her gaze follow the plane of his stomach and move lower.

     Oh, yes, he was much more than ready.  She held her hand up to him and Mulder took it, covering her body with his and sliding home with one long, slow thrust.  Dana arched her hips with a contented sigh, a feeling of completeness stealing over her.  This was the way it was supposed to be, this sense of fulfillment she felt every time they made love.   No one else had ever touched her soul like this. 

     Seconds later, all thoughts of anything but the feel of him inside her were gone with his first movements.  "Yes..."  A whisper of breath, barely a word. 

     He moved again and all speech was forgotten, the sounds in the room down to gasps for breath and the small moans she made each time he pushed a little deeper into her.  Hips flexing slowly, he waited until her hands found his buttocks and clenched against them before increasing the rhythm of his thrusts.  She could feel the familiar pressure building deep inside her and raised her hips to take as much of him as possible, gasping when his hands slipped beneath her and lifted her against him.  She raised her legs, her heels against his bottom, and pulled him deeper.  The angle thrust his pelvis hard against her with each stroke and she brought her hands up, digging them into his upper arms as she came.  A cry broke from her throat and seconds later she felt Mulder shaking above her, starting to pull out.  He felt her heels against his buttocks and opened his eyes, looking down at her, questioningly.  "Mulder, please..."  The words were a soft request and for a moment she thought he would refuse.  She wanted to feel him release within her, feel his body shudder.  It was the ultimate loss of control -- the final trust, and she wanted it badly enough to risk the consequences.  Besides, her cycle was so shot to hell...  Seeing the hesitation in his eyes, she started to move her legs and let him pull out, but he grasped her thighs and held them still.  Leaving her legs wrapped around him, she thrust her hips up once more as he pushed down into her, once, twice before letting himself go as deeply as possible and come inside her.

     Nothing was said as he moved off her and pulled her back against him spoon fashion, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her hair.  Let it snow was Mulder's last coherent thought before he drifted off to sleep.  Let it snow just a little longer...

      Scully could feel his breath warm against the back of her neck, the rhythm of his breaths slowing until she realized he was asleep.  Though tired herself, she couldn't force her body to relax enough to doze off.  She knew she had put him off one more time, stalling the discussion of her returning memories by making love to him.  As pleasurable as such avoidance was, she had to face the fact that it was time to tell him, no matter how much it hurt to think about.  As her partner, even more than her lover, he had a right to know more than she was telling him so far.  He had a right to know it all.

 

                   **  **  X  **  **

 

 

     Mulder slept for a couple of hours before he reached for her again, his hand clasping her waist to draw her tight against him.  "Scully?"

     She came slowly awake as he whispered her name.  "I love hearing you say my name like that, Mulder."  Her voice was  husky, telling him that she had been asleep, too.  It trickled it's way down his abdomen to settle heavily in his groin, something as simple as the sound of her voice starting to arouse him, but he pushed the thought aside.  "Are you ready to talk now?"

     Instead of the refusal he expected, she turned over to face him.  "If you're ready to hear it."

     He raised a hand to her face and brushed the back of it across her cheek, nodding silently for her to start.

     Scully took a deep breath and swallowed hard before beginning.  "I told you about the room where I woke up, but I didn't remember what was happening at the time.  I'm just starting to remember things, things that happened in the room, over the last few days."  He watched her hands clench and unclench before reaching down and taking them both in his.  Scully looked up into his eyes and he could see a little of the tension leave her face before she looked away again.  "If I have to look at you while I talk, I'll never finish, Mulder.  You distract me."  He heard a sliver of a smile in her voice and gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze.

     "Tell me."

     She nodded.  "The first time I remember waking fully, there were men in the room.  I don't know how many.  I could only see two, but there were more voices than that.  I could hear, three, maybe four different voices talking around me, but couldn't see them.  Whatever they had given me to keep me knocked out was pretty powerful, because even the few moments I remember being awake, my memories are hazy."

     She glanced up briefly, as if reassuring herself that he was there.  "This was different.  Everything this time was clear and sharp, and I could hear and comprehend every word, but I could barely move.  I've never felt anything remotely like it.  It wasn't like an anesthetic, in that I could feel everything they were doing to me."

     Mulder felt her fingers tremble in his, and heard her voice catch.  "It's all right, Dana.  It's over now."

     She clutched his hand and swallowed hard, composing herself.  "I couldn't move, Mulder.  Seems that whatever they pumped into me leaves its victims fully coherent, but unable to move or protest what is being done to them."  She closed her eyes, the memories swamping her so fast they hurt.  "They put something inside me."

     "The probe?"

     Dana nodded. "I remember the feel of it going in; it felt like a thousand ice-cold needles being put through my stomach.  I still don't know what they did to me."  She shook her head. "The doctors at the hospital could find no evidence of the procedure ever taking place.  According to them, it was all a hallucination caused by the coma.  But it wasn't, Mulder."

     Mulder stayed silent, sensing that she wasn't finished; there was more she had to say.  "The foreign substance that Thinker found in my blood, the DNA, I remember them giving it to me.  I knew.  i knew what it was."

     "You heard them discussing it?"

     Her eyes closed for a moment. "They injected it on the inside of my thigh, at the femoral artery, and I remember the burning sensation it caused.  God, Mulder, it felt like my leg was on fire! The feeling spread through the rest of my body so fast...  That was the first time I remember losing touch with reality."

     "The place you described to me?"

     She closed her eyes and nodded.  "It was so peaceful there."

     "Your body had taken all it could stand so your mind gave it a place to retreat."  He gave her hand an understanding squeeze.  "It's not that common, but it happens in trauma cases."  They were both silent for a moment before Mulder spoke again.

     "Dana, do you remember anything at all after they found you in the hospital?  Could you hear anything of what was going on around you?"

     "I remember a little.  That's not uncommon for coma patients."  She smiled slightly.  "I remember hearing you and Melissa standing over me and thinking, I hope she doesn't call him Fox."

     "I've been told not to call you Fox."

     Before he could fully comprehend the possibility that perhaps Melissa =had= read her sister's thoughts, Scully spoke again.

     "I could feel the two of you standing there over me, and I wanted to reach out to you.  To touch you and tell you both that I was safe."  She looked straight into Mulder's eyes.  "I could feel you every time you came in the room.  Even in my =safe= place, you were there.  I couldn't see you, but I could feel you, talking to me, trying to get me to come back."  She paused, one hand reaching up to stoke his face.  "I didn't want to, you know.  It hurt to wake up, to come back.  But there was one night, at least I think it was night, when you were sitting by my bedside.  You were in so much pain, Mulder.  I could =feel= it.  I knew then I had to come back.  I had to help you."

     "And the next morning I got the call that you had opened your eyes."  The words had an awed tone to them.  "You came back for me."

     Scully rolled her eyes a little, uncomfortable with what they were saying.  "Yeah, well someone has to keep an eye on you."

     "Oh, really?"  Mulder took up the teasing tone, sensing that she was finished telling him about her memories.  "Are you sure there wasn't another reason, Dr. Scully?"

     Dana raised an eyebrow and lifted the corner of the sheet to glance down at him.  "Well, there might be one or two more."

     "I have no idea what you're talking about, Scully.  Care to demonstrate?"

     Dana chuckled and rolled over on top of him, her legs straddling his hips as her hands went to work caressing him.  "You know, we really should be sleeping now.  It's a long drive back to D.C. and we have to work Monday morning." 

     He wanted to ask her then if she was going to go through with the transfer, but she moved her hips in a slow grinding circle against him, and he put it off until later.

     "You're right."  His hands slipped down her back to press her tight against him, the weight of his shaft hard between her thighs.  "We really do need to sleep."  He drew her face down for a long, deep kiss and she smiled against his mouth.

     "Later."

 

              **  **  X  **  **

 

     Monday morning the first smell to hit him as he walked in the office was fresh coffee.  Grumpy from the long trip home the day before, Mulder tossed his overcoat across his chair and stomped off to grab a cup.  Scully had slept the entire trip back, and he'd never had the chance to ask her about her intentions.  Work or personal.    

      "One more night of just us before we go back to the real world."  He heard her voice in his ear, just as he'd heard it all night, even though she was safely asleep in her own bed.  If she meant to pretend that the entire two weeks hadn't happened, Dana Scully was going to be in for a big surprise.  This wasn't Dallas, and it wasn't going to "all have been a dream."

     So why then had he let her drop him off at his apartment?  And why the hell hadn't he come out and asked her if she was going to go through with the transfer request?

     Mulder snorted into his coffee, disgusted with himself.  Because you're scared, a little voice told him.  You're terrified that she'll blow you off -- and more terrified that she won't.  "I love her" he protested silently.  "I want her with me."

     And what happens when she gets hurt again?  Or dies.  Or leaves you for someone else?

     "She won't."  But his protests sounded hollow, even in his own mind.  His record with relationships wasn't too solid, and neither was Scully's.  Not to mention the fact that the Powers-That-Be were not going to be happy with this turn of events.  What had they gotten themselves into?  But then Mulder remembered the nights when she was gone, the cold panic that had settled into his chest, and he slumped into his chair, forgetting to remove the coat first.  They'd work it out.  Somehow.  If she'd just give them a chance...

     His desk was, as Scully had predicted, a disaster area.  At least four "Urgent" post-its from Skinner.  Mulder pulled them off and tossed them towards the wastebasket.  He'd see Skinner when he'd woken up more.  Maybe between the two of them they could figure a way to keep Scully with the "FBI's Most Unwanted."  As for the rest of the paperwork...

     "How am I supposed to handle all of this?" he muttered to himself.

     "One day at a time, Mulder," came the calm, even amused answer.

     He spun around in his chair, spilling coffee over the nearest pile of printouts.  Scully walked into the office, putting her jacket and briefcase down, and ran one finger along the surface of her desk.  "You couldn't at least have dusted?" she asked.

     Mulder stared at her, a hopeful light in his eyes.  "You yell at me every time I touch your desk," he defended himself.  "I believe that your exact words were 'try to keep your chaos on your side of the office.'"

     She nodded seriously.  "Fair enough."  Sitting on the corner of his desk, one finger stirred delicately through the files scattered there.  "Anything particularly interesting on tap?"

     He selected a file at random, flipping it open.  "In Arkansas, there's a couple that says they have new information on a ten-year-old double homicide."

     "They claim to have gotten the information from a ghost?  Oh, come on, Mulder!"

     Business as usual, he thought with a relived sigh, marshalling his arguments.  Dana stood to reclaim her desk, her hand brushing his arm in passing, lingering only a second too long.  Everything else, he thought, we'll work out.  One day at a time.