Will You Still Love Me? by Diadem and Isahunter

TITLE: Will You Still Love Me?

AUTHORS: Diadem and Isahunter

CATEGORY: S, A, MSR.

RATING: NC17

SPOILERS: Up to "Triangle," S6.

DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to us (they belong

to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen, and Fox). However, if offered, we

would gratefully accept them as gifts.

ARCHIVE: Yes, with our info attached.

FEEDBACK: Please!!

SUMMARY: After Mulder's serious confession, he and Scully

realize their true feelings for each other.

To Karen and Trish, who I’m certain only remain my friends so they

can watch

X-Files on the big screen. And, of course, to Sarah. Thanks for

being such a

doll.--Luv, Isa.

Well, I really enjoyed this one!!! Thanks Isa: it's been great to work

with such a pro! Luv, Diadem

If you are under age, read no further. You have been warned!

*************************************************************

WILL YOU STILL LOVE ME? (1/5)

by Diadem and Isahunter

The sickening sound of a bullet ripping through your partner's

body wasn't

something you wanted to wake to on a regular basis. There were

times when

even falling asleep was something you dreaded. You told yourself

the dreams

meant nothing, that everyone had nightmares. But it didn't matter if

the

dreams were pure delusion.

You couldn't let nightmares affect your job. If a FBI agent let a

dream

spook 'em, they'd never leave the house. You saw real things in

the field

that were far scarier than anything normal people could imagine.

And you

faced each day with grit and determination, with your head held

high, with the

faith that you could rely on the person by your side.

FBI partnerships were like marriages. They had to be. Cases

could not be

solved unless you thought and acted as one. It was only natural to

worry for

your partner's safety. But that didn't explain waking up, clutching

your

pillow in fear, silently screaming your partner's name, as if your

voice alone

could keep them alive.

Lying there in the suffocating darkness, you prayed to God you

didn't have to

watch them die--not one more time....

Dana Scully smoothed down the lapels on her suit jacket,

trying desperately

to delay walking in the door. On the other side of that steel frame

stood a

far more impenetrable force that she just wasn't ready to deal with

yet. She

knew she should have called in sick, pretended to have some awful

disease that

would leave her bed-ridden for weeks. She was a doctor, she could

pull it

off. But she knew Fox Mulder, and he'd go out of his way to make

sure she was

all right...just to torture her.

Seven long weeks had passed since that horrid little scene

outside of his

apartment. And every one of those days, she had regretted letting

him see so

much of her soul. She'd been so weak, so vulnerable, so afraid of

being

alone. Yes, that was it. She certainly hadn't wanted him, or

needed him. He

was her partner, that's all.

So why did she dread seeing him again?

It was the same every day. Every morning she drug herself out

of bed, forced

herself to shower and dress, drove to work with her heart in her

throat. And

each time, she was issued his standard greeting. 'Morning Scully.

As if he

barely noticed she was alive. The passion and zeal he displayed in

restoring

his charred X-files did not apply to her. One would have thought

that the man

had never traveled thousands of miles to save her life.

Taking a deep breath, she swept into the new office with the

same brisk

efficiency she lent to all of her movements...she only hoped her

ppartne

didn't notice that she'd bumped into someone else's desk upon

spotting him.

Agent Mulder sat staring at the computer screen, the eerie light

reflecting

off of his glasses. He'd loosened his tie and removed his jacket,

rolling up

his shirt-sleeves to reveal powerfully muscled forearms. She had a

brief

flash of memory, of those arms carrying her to safety, of those

large hands

cradling her jaw as he leaned closer to kiss--

She pushed the thought away. It was as useless to dwell on

that memory as it

was to dwell on the closing of the X-Files.

She stood motionless, waiting for him to notice her, oblivious to

the stares

she was attracting from the other occupants of the room. She was

examining

her fingernails, trying to think of something to say, when his voice

startled

her so much she jumped.

"You missed a great show last night, Scully. I thought you

were going to

stop by so we could figure our receipts for the trip to Arizona."

She could only imagine what kind of "show" he'd been

watching. "I, uh--I was

tired. I just went to bed."

He glanced over at her, his face lit in the eerie green glow of the

screen.

He raised his eyebrows and bit his lip. God, she could feel her

stomach

twisting.

"You've been tired a lot lately. You all right?"

"Yeah." She had to change the subject. Anything would do.

She lowered her

voice. "Are you getting any further along on the reconstruction?"

He picked up a couple sunflower seeds from the bag next to

him and nodded.

"Ninety percent finished," he said, popping the seeds in his mouth.

After a few minutes of crunching, he added, "I would have

gotten more done

this morning, but Diana stopped by my apartment. I got in late."

Dana stared down at her hands once more, blinking slowly.

Diana. Special

Agent Diana Fowley. It seemed that not an hour went by when

someone wasn't

saying that name. More often than not, it was Mulder. But

sometimes, it was

herself, saying the name over and over again in her head...like the

words to

an annoying song.

"What did Agent Fowley have to say?" she asked, trying to

sound more curious

than perturbed.

"Scully, are you sure you're OK?" he asked, half rising out of

his chair.

OK, so curious hadn't worked. "I'm fine, Mulder. Sit down."

He obeyed,

hesitantly, as if the moment he sat down again, she might collapse.

"Honestly, I'm OK. Just curious."

She moved around to the opposite end of the desk, setting her

briefcase down.

She flipped the catches, and removed a file.

"Just curious, huh?" Mulder was staring intently at the

computer screen, his

jaw working furiously on yet another mouthful of those infernal

seeds.

"No, actually," she replied, dropping the file on the desk and

setting the

briefcase on the floor. "In truth, I'm insanely jealous of her,

because I

want you all to myself." This awkwardness was fast transforming

into the

mother of all bad moods.

"Oooh, Agent Scully," Mulder turned from the screen. "Do I

detect a hint of

sarcasm?"

"Why, I do believe you may, Agent Mulder." Oh well, it was

the only way she

was ever likely to pluck up the courage to say it. The best place to

hide the

truth is in plain sight.

He grinned at her: it was nearly her undoing. After a couple of

agonizing

seconds, he turned back to the screen. "Seriously though, Diana

just wanted

to ask me about the results of that blood match."

Dana raised her head. "Anything I should know about?"

"I told her I had no idea, and she'd be better off talking to you

about it.

She should be here in about an hour."

Oh, thanks Mulder.

"OK." How could she escape this one? "Actually, Mulder, I

have to drop some

stuff off upstairs. I'll find her myself on the way down."

She snatched a random file from her out tray, and fled the

room, leaving an

oblivious Mulder staring at the tiny red headed aliens he had

programmed into

his screen saver.

Hearing her footsteps receding down the hallway, Mulder lifted

his head. He

hated the way their relationship had suddenly become so strained.

That's what

you get for trying to kiss her, you idiot, he reprimanded himself.

After all,

he had held off for nearly six years, for fear of that very thing.

Enough, he told his mind sharply. He had kissed her, well,

nearly, and it

had destroyed not only their partnership, but their friendship, and

that was

the only thing in the world that mattered. The elusive Truth could

go take a

running jump, as long as she would stay with him. But all that was

gone now,

and it was all down to his desperation and stupidity.

And as for Diana...why the hell had she shown up when she

had? Just as he

had finally put the past behind him, and started to heal, she arrived

and, be

it consciously or not, although he suspected it was, ripped open

the wounds.

He was trying to be civil, God knows he tried, but his patience had

never been

the strongest, and it was wearing very thin. This morning he had

even passed

her over to Scully in an attempt to get rid of her...

Oh God, what if that was it? What if Diana had told her? That

would be her

style: spiteful and selfish, manipulating innocent people in order to

get what

she wanted. Hell, he had been subject to quite a lot of that himself

in the

past.

That was what this was, after all. Diana was in his past, she

was out of

place in the present. Scully was the present, and he had

jeopardized that by

not telling her the truth. He would have to tell her. It would be

risky, but

she was a reasonable person. She would understand why he

hadn't told her

before. Wouldn't she?

Suddenly, the telephone rang next to his elbow, startling him.

He shook his

head again, attempting to rid himself of the nostalgia he was

experiencing.

He realized he had been staring at his left hand. No, she was

definitely in

the past. He snatched up the phone. "Mulder."

"Mulder, it's me." The familiar voice on the line made him

smile. "It looks

like I'm going to be up here longer than I thought. The DNA tests

on the

Johnson case are expected any minute."

"Uh huh." Great, he couldn't even form a coherent sentence

now.

"So if Agent Fowley arrives, can you tell her I'll find her this

afternoon?"

"Uh."

"Mulder?"

"Sure Scully. Let me know what you find."

"I will."

Mulder hung up the phone. Great. He'd already fought Diana

off once today,

he wasn't sure he could do it again. Longing for his little space in

the

basement, he once again felt the oppression and uniformity he was

so

unaccustomed to, but went unquestioned in a shared office.

Making an informed

decision, he stood up, grabbed his coat, and left the offending room.

It was nearly four hours later when Dana finally left the

laboratory: not

only had she spent an hour scouring the DNA results for any kind

of match, but

Agent Stephens had tracked her down and asked for her advice on

a stack of

autopsy results on a series of murders in the DC area.

By the time she left the lab, Dana had the beginnings of a

severe headache.

She had never intended to stop off at Spender and Fowley's office,

and now she

had even less desire to, so she punched the elevator call button for

the

second floor. When the elevator carriage arrived, she stepped

gratefully

inside, waited until the doors had closed, and leaned against the

cold metal

of the wall, letting her eyes drift shut.

Not long enough later, a condescending little bell told her that it

was time

to leave. Heaving a sigh, Dana shifted the pile of folders she was

carrying

to her other arm, and stepped into the hallway.

What she saw was enough to tempt her to retreat to the safety

of the

elevator. Heading straight towards her were Agents Fowley and

Spender,

looking for all the world like a couple of armored tanks. With

nowhere to

run, Dana plastered a smile on her face, and sent up a silent

prayer that

neither of the agents would see the underlying snarl that she so

desperately

wanted to shoot in their direction.

"Agent Scully." Fowley extended her left hand. Dana

suddenly found it

imperative to hold onto her stack of files with both hands.

Unperturbed,

Fowley simply dropped it, and smiled. "How are you finding life out

of the

basement?"

"Fine. Thank you." Dana made a mental note not to grit her

teeth next time

she had to answer the Agent.

"Are you sure? You seem a little..." she glanced across at

Spender, who was

looking decidedly uncomfortable, "stressed."

Forcing herself to keep her breathing even, Dana answered her

with a nod.

"Yes, well, you know how it is. Our case load is pretty demanding

now." At

the other woman's silence, she decided to try another route. "How

is the

Gibson Praise case coming along?"

For the first time during their interchange, Spender looked as

though he was

about to speak, but Fowley cut him off. "Actually, it's going really

well.

We have a couple of leads to follow up, and one of them looks as if

it might

take us straight to them." She took a breath, and her expression

changed. "I

was going to discuss it with Agent Mulder tonight."

"Tonight?" She couldn't help herself.

"Yes. He asked me to come over. Catch up, you know?"

"Of course." How could he? "Well, if you'll excuse me, Agent

Fowley, I

really need to get these to the office."

"Of course."

Had she meant to mimic her, Dana wondered, as she set off

down the hallway.

That would be like her. Was she really being that blatant, or was

she

flaunting her past relationship with Mulder subconsciously?

Somehow she

doubted that. Mulder was so quick to jump to Fowley's side now:

didn't he

appreciate all the years of practical, scientific theories that she had

given

him? Hearing the bell of the elevator behind her, Dana heaved

another sigh of

relief.

"Agent Scully!" If sighs of relief could be taken back, Dana

would probably

have started hyperventilating. Turning around, she saw Spender

striding down

the hallway towards her. She barely repressed a shudder.

"Agent Spender?" She shifted the files again.

"Here, let me take those," he offered, slightly embarrassed. He

reminded her

of a small child offering his favorite teacher a gift.

"Thanks, but I'm fine. Can I help you, Agent Spender?"

"Well," he shifted nervously, "this is probably a stupid

question." Oh God,

what is he about to say? "But would you like to go out to dinner

tonight?"

His voice took on a confident tone, almost as though it was acting

independently from his mind.

"Oh." What more was there to say? Oh God... "Why not?"

Why not?!?! There were a hundred reasons, at least ten of

which were that he

was a slimy little grease ball!

"Well--" If Spender had been uncomfortable before, he was

seemingly in

severe physical pain now. "Mulder..."

Dana was becoming steadily more irritated. "What about

Mulder?" she snapped,

shifting the folders yet again.

"Well, I thought..." He paused, but when it became clear she

was waiting for

an answer, he reluctantly continued. "What with you being Mrs.

Spooky, and

all..." He trailed off, unwilling to say anything else that might

trigger the

release of the pressure Dana was fairly sure was displayed

prominently across

her face.

"Pick me up at eight."

"Yeah. Thanks!" he added as an enthusiastic afterthought, as

a very confused

Dana Scully hurried down the hallway.

Dana's muscles were just about to give out on her when she

finally managed to

push herself through the door of their office. Not Diana's. Definitely

not

Spender's. OK, so they had to share it with half a dozen pen-

pushers, but

hell, they had desks of their own. Stay calm, she instructed

herself.

"My arms are about to fall off!" she declared as she dumped

the folders on

the end of her desk. It was only then that she realized her partner

was not

in his workspace. Apparently.

"Why?" came a muffled, but unmistakable voice from behind

the filing

cabinets.

"Mulder?" She carefully stepped over a pile of crumpled up

papers that were

cluttering the floor by his chair. "What are you doing?"

"Promise not to laugh?" His tone told her that plenty of other

people had

already laughed at his no doubt humiliating plight.

"Promise." Her fingers were crossed, but he had no way of

telling that.

"Uncross whatever is crossed."

Damn. "OK Mulder. I promise. Just tell me why you are

practically under

the filing cabinet."

"I got a little upset, and threw my only sharp pencil behind

here."

Oh, that was Mulder all right. She just barely stifled a giggle.

"OK. Can I

make a suggestion?"

"Suggest away."

"Sharpen one."

"That is a good idea." He rocked back on his heels, so that

she could see

his face. "Only problem is..." He grinned at her. "I threw the

sharpener as

well."

She couldn't help but chuckle a little as she wandered back

over to the desk

and sat down. Oh, that had felt good. Almost like they had been

before that

bitch showed up again...

"Scully?" His voice dragged her back to reality.

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

"Stephens asked me to look at some stuff. I'm going to try and

get it

finished before I leave tonight."

"Sounds like fun." He stood up, holding the pencil sharpener

aloft, as

though he had just captained a world cup team to victory. "The

pencil can

stay there." He dropped into his chair, propping his feet up on the

desk.

"Need any help with that?"

"Not unless you have suddenly become a world authority on

the minor fluctuations in an electroencephalogram reading relating

to uni-

polar disorder. If you have, you can have my job as well." She

was only half

concentrating on the conversation: she really wanted to get the

work done so

she could drop it off to Stephens before she went home. And out

to dinner.

"I may as well just go, then." Mulder stood, and made for the

door.

That made her look up. "Mulder, you never go home early."

"Well, I have nothing to do here. And I'm only an hour early. I

think the

amount of overtime I have done over the years entitles me to an

hour off,

don't you?"

"You wouldn't happen to have any big plans for tonight, would

you, Agent

Mulder?" she asked, with what she hoped was a teasing tone to

her voice. This

would be the real test of his trust in her.

"No, not really. The Gunmen have just got ahold of Tomb

Raider III, I

thought I might go take a look...."

That was it, she'd had enough. "Don't lie to me Mulder." She

spun around to

face him, eyes blazing, although her voice remained hushed. No

point in

starting another wave of "lover's tiff" comments. "I ran into Diana in

the

hallway. She happened to mention your romantic evening at your

place. That

will be nice, won't it Mulder? Just the two of you? The way it was

before I

showed up. What an inconvenience THAT must have been!"

Suddenly she couldn't face him any more. She collapsed into

her seat, and

stared at the blank computer screen in front of her.

There was silence for an eternity. Then Mulder spoke, his

voice tightly

controlled.

"This is exactly why I didn't tell you, Scully, I knew you'd get

upset. We

just need to catch up, that's all."

"Well, don't try to spare my feelings in future, Mulder!" She

snapped. "Is

that what you are doing when you ditch me? When you don't tell

me about a

case until we get there? I'm sick of it Mulder!" She knew what his

face

would look like, but she didn't look. God, she was being a bitch!

But she

didn't care. It even felt kind of good. "Besides," she added. "I

have plans

of my own tonight."

"Anyone I know?" He sounded tired, drained.

"Spender."

"Spender? Scully, no..."

"You have Diana, Mulder. Have a wonderful evening. Hell, have

a wonderful

night, if you want to!"

She had gone too far, and she knew it.

"Yeah, you have fun too, Scully."

Mulder was confused. He knew that letting Diana come over

was probably a

mistake, but she had not left him much choice. But Scully and

Spender? He

had credited Scully with more sense. Could she be doing it to get

back at

him? He didn't think so. Where was the Scully who had laughed

at him for

losing a pencil sharpener just a few minutes ago?

Was he jealous of Spender? He didn't think so. Maybe. He

was protective of

Scully. That was all. A little over protective, maybe, but after

everything

that had happened to her, he thought he had the right to be.

She still wasn't looking at him. "Call me, OK, Scully? After

your date?"

She mumbled something in reply. He slowly picked up his

coat, and turned to look at her.

"And Dana?" No reply. He hadn't expected one. "You have

never been an inconvenience to me."

With that he left, not bothering to turn back.

End Part 1

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

WILL YOU STILL LOVE ME? (2/5)

by Diadem and Isahunter

(Disclaimers and other info in part one--NC17!)

Her low sultry laughter next to his ear made Mulder shudder.

Sitting right

next to him on the couch, close enough to feel her heat permeating

through his

shirt sleeve, Diana took another bite of her pizza and chewed with

audible

appreciation.

"Do you remember the Rat Man case?" she asked, reaching for

her glass of

water. "That was most fun I ever had running for my life."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. I couldn't breathe for a full five minutes

afterwards."

She leaned even closer, if that was possible. "But it wasn't the

most fun I

had that day, if I recall."

Mulder glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and quickly

took a bite of

his own pizza before she could force a response out of him.

"So, I heard my partner is taking your partner out to dinner

tonight." She'd

obviously tried to sound innocently curious, but she'd failed

pathetically.

"I guess that means you and Agent Scully aren't involved?"

He almost choked on his food. "What gave you that idea?"

"Oh, I don't know. You two just seemed to have a certain

amount of

chemistry. And everyone keeps calling her Mrs. Spooky. Funny, I

always

thought I got to keep that distinction."

Suddenly, he wasn't hungry anymore. Setting down his paper

plate, he turned

to look at her.

"We were divorced years ago, Diana."

"She doesn't know, does she?"

"No. I never told Scully we were married."

"Why not, Fox. I would have thought you would have told her

all about

me...or at least all the bad things, anyway. Why pass up that

golden

opportunity?"

"It just never came up."

"Could it be because you thought she'd be jealous?"

Now she was just being nasty. "Scully doesn't think of me that

way. I'm her

partner, not her lover."

"So you wouldn't mind it if she and Agent Spender became

involved?"

He tried to say no. God, he tried. But the word just wouldn't

leave his

mouth. She smirked at him, as if she'd known it all along. Damn

her. She

knew him too well. Every single time his mind skipped back to

what Scully and

Spender might be doing tonight--which was once every two

seconds--he could

feel his head pound even harder. Scully had to be insane.

Spender was a

weasel, she'd said it herself. So what was she doing?

"Did it ever occur to you that she was trying to make you

jealous, Fox?"

He actually laughed...and not just his usual low chuckle. It

was a full-

blown hollering kind of laugh. "Not even."

Diana just shrugged her shoulders and tossed her dark hair

over her shoulder.

In the lamp light, her hair glimmered with auburn highlights. Not

the flame-

bright brilliance of Scully's tresses, but close enough to make him

imagine

her...to make him wish he were sitting here with Scully instead of

his ex-

wife.

"Why did you leave, Diana?"

She set down her own dinner, becoming quickly serious. "You

know, I was

hoping you'd never bring this up. I hate how we left things. Every

time I

think about it, I realize how stupid I was. I shouldn't have walked

out on

you."

He remembered that very clearly. How she'd walked in to their

office and

said that she'd accepted an offer of a transfer. He'd known that

after they'd

married they wouldn't be able to keep working together. The

Bureau frowned on

that sort of thing. But he'd only expected her to transfer to a

different

department, not leave the country altogether. She'd said she'd

been given a

choice, but it hadn't taken long for her to choose Berlin. God, she

hadn't

even told him about it before she'd made the decision. She'd just

told him

she was leaving.

"You had every right to be angry with me, Fox."

He laughed again, but this time it was strained and carried no

hint of

amusement. "I didn't really expect you to ask me what I thought,

Diana, but

I'd hoped you would at least give me some sort of warning. One

day before you

left was not a lot of time to say good-bye."

"Oh, I'd say you did a pretty good job of that," she said,

shaking her head.

"Demanding a divorce while I was on my way out to the cab."

"You crushed me, Diana. I thought--"

"I know what you thought. You thought I'd stick by your side

forever,

following you around faithfully like your little Scully, through every

mess

you get yourself into. Well, I couldn't do that, Fox. I'm not as

gullible as

her. Just because the X-Files were your life's work, it didn't mean I

was

content just to watch you take all of the credit. I had a life of my

own to

lead. I had my own future to build." Her words started to get

watery, and he

was horrified to glimpse tears on her cheeks. Oh, God. He

couldn't stand it

when Diana did this. "It wasn't until I saw you again that I realized

what a

mistake I'd made. I could be the President of the United States,

and it

wouldn't matter if I didn't have you by my side."

He shook his head, willing his mind to clear. How many times

had he

fantasized about this moment? About Diana standing here before

him, telling

him she was a fool to have left?

All that time, he'd always imagined he would take her back.

"You can't tell me you don't wish things hadn't been different,

Fox."

"Yeah, I do wish they'd been different. I wish I'd been the one

to dump

you."

She was silent for a moment. "I guess I deserve that."

"Things are different, Diana. I have a partner now that I trust

with my

life. She's saved my ass more times than I can count. She

doesn't abandon me

when the going gets tough. And she doesn't give me lame

excuses, either."

"You think I'm lying to you?" She looked genuinely hurt, for

once. "How

could you think that?"

"Because I've had enough experience to know what the truth

looks like.

Scully taught me that little trick."

"Well, then I guess it really is too bad you aren't more than

partners.

Maybe she could teach you a few more tricks you failed to learn

over the

years."

Diana's spiteful barb slipped by almost unnoticed as his mind

wandered to

Scully once again. Maybe it was too bad they weren't more than

partners. He

sure as hell knew the thought of Scully with Spender was enough

to make him

want to puke. If he had to see the two of them together, every day,

he just

might rip the weasel's head off. He didn't begrudge Scully a life

outside of

the FBI. God knew she was just as human as he was. He just

didn't want her

with Spender--or anyone else he could possibly think of. The

thought of some

other man's hands on her--

He didn't realize he was ripping his napkin to shreds until Diana

caught hold

of his hands.

"Can you ever possibly forgive me for what I did to you, Fox?"

she asked,

softly, her voice lowering to a cajoling whisper. "I'll beg, I'll crawl on

my

knees, I'll do whatever it takes..."

In seconds, her hand had moved from covering his to sliding

across the inside

of his thigh. He met her gaze, holding it with hardly any effort. She

obviously wasn't shamed by her actions.

For a moment in time, it felt like it always had. This was

Diana. His

partner and his best friend when he'd found the X-Files. The person

he'd

shared his hopes and dreams with, who he'd felt right in making his

wife. The

woman he had loved and trusted more than anyone.

The woman who gave the phrase 'trust no one' a whole new

meaning.

Pulling her hand away from his crotch, he stood abruptly.

"Fox?"

"I think it's time I take you home. I've had about enough for one

evening."

"You have no idea what you're turning down. She'll never give

you what I

can."

He just stared at her, his eyes narrowing in a way he knew she

recognized all

too well. The moment she realized the game had gotten away from

her, her

voice softened from harsh reprisal to a repentant murmur.

"I--I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I just wanted so badly

to get

back some of what we used to have together. I wanted you to look

at me the

way you look at her. Is that so wrong?"

Running his hand through his hair, he exhaled heavily. "It's

over, Diana.

All of it."

She nodded, slowly. "Then is it too much for me to expect us

to be friends?"

He let out a little laugh. "You know too many of my secrets,

Diana...I can't

risk making you into an enemy."

She arched an eyebrow as she stood up beside him. "Well, at

least you'll

give me that much. I guess that's something."

As she followed him to the door, she pulled on her coat. "This

is an

interesting apartment. Do you ever miss the house we shared?"

"No."

"Somehow, I didn't think so." Stopping him before he reached

the door, she

said, "It wasn't what I did to you that's keeping you from her, is it?

Did I

ruin you for her?"

As much as she seemed to like that idea, he couldn't give her

the

satisfaction. He smiled slightly as he held open the door. "No. I

have to

blame that on my own stupidity."

Dana was grateful for the dim lighting in the fancy French

restaurant.

O.V.N.I. was its name: she doubted Spender had seen the irony,

though. She

had come to places like this once or twice before, but in the last

few years

she had become increasingly more comfortable in the out of the

way roadside

diners that Mulder so often managed to root out. Oh, what she

would have

given to be out in the middle of nowhere, looking for little gray men

right

now.

But she wasn't. She was stuck in an itchy black dress and too

tight shoes,

listening to Spender's monotonous drone, thanking God that the

lights were so

low, because she couldn't help yawning. Frequently. Spender was

telling her

about his childhood: family, friends, pets, illnesses, holidays...the

list was

seemingly endless.

She nodded, and stifled another yawn as Spender asked her a

question. She

hoped the answer was yes. She may have been bored, but the

last thing she

wanted to do was hurt him: she had agreed to the date, after all,

and he had

been acting like a perfect gentleman all evening. That, in itself was

not a

problem. The problem was that it was giving her the creeps.

The waiter arrived with their coffee, and Dana seized the

opportunity the

distraction gave her. "So, Sp--Jeffrey." She smiled at him,

apologizing for

her mistake. He nodded, letting her continue. She suppressed a

shudder: she

desperately did not want to be on first name terms with the little

toad.

"Did you know Diana before you were partnered with her?"

He looked a little taken aback and confused at her question.

"No, not

really. I knew of her, of course, and her work. When I first started

researching the X-Files, of course, her name came up."

Why did everyone know about this before I did? A little

annoyed, but still

determined to pull any information she could from him, Dana

continued. "I

guess you knew about Mulder, then?"

Immediately, Spender's defenses went up. It was amazing the

change that

overcame him at the mention of one man's name. "Yes." The

answer was curt,

and not particularly friendly. Dana leapt at once to her friend's

defense.

"I don't know what Agent Fowley has told you about Mulder,"

she began, "but I

have been working beside him for many years now, and I can

assure you he is a

good man." She paused, thinking. "What exactly did she tell

you?"

"She hasn't told me anything. Diana is rarely in the office

anyway these

days, she won't let me answer the phone, and she never tells me

where she's

gone. It's as if she thinks she has to solve these cases herself. I

never

have a thing to do anymore."

What? That was a strange thing to say, she thought. "She

won't let you

answer the phone?"

"Something about running a trace on something. I think it's to

do with the

Gibson Praise case. Something like that." He stared into his wine

glass.

"She's working pretty hard on it."

"I'll bet." Dana took a sip of her own wine. "But Jeffrey, I need

to know.

Honestly. What has she told you about Mulder?"

"I told you. Nothing."

"Please, Jeffrey." The damsel in distress routine. Works every

time, she

thought.

"She told me enough." Spender was obviously not enjoying

this at all. "She

told me that he is greedy, self obsessed, and out of control. I think

that's

all I need to know. I know she and Mulder were close, and I believe

her. I

believe Mulder hurt her badly."

"But what about Diana?" she asked. "Don't you think it's a

little strange

the way she just came back?"

"In what way?" The pseudo-friendly facade was gone for good.

Oh well, if I'm going to do this, I may as well do it properly. "I

just

think it's odd. Why did she come back? Are her motives...I don't

know." She

laid down her napkin, certain that she had gone too far.

"She was hurt, Dana." He regarded her coolly. "She was hurt

badly, by your

partner. If she did anything wrong before she returned to

Washington, it was

because of what he did to her."

Dana was shocked. That just wasn't Mulder. Not her Mulder,

anyway. Her

Mulder was kind and considerate, a little unthoughtful at times, but

it was

kind of endearing when he became so engrossed in a case that

she had to remind

him to eat, or get changed, or shave. She found herself smiling a

little as

Mulder reached across the table and placed his hand on hers.

"Dana?" She jumped, startled, as she realized that it was not

Mulder who was

sitting across the table from her, but Spender. "Are you all right?"

YES! An escape clause! "Actually," she lied, "I think I may

have a migraine

coming on. Could we get the check, please?"

"Of course." Spender signaled the waiter, as Dana gathered up

her purse.

"Jeffrey?" she asked, as she slipped a tip under her saucer.

"Yes?"

"Why did Diana really come back? Was it for Mulder?" She

was scared of the

answer, but she had to know.

Spender took a deep breath. She could see the inner conflict

of his loyalty

to Diana and his respect for her. Finally, he reached a decision.

"She never

told me." He answered her, truthfully. "But if you want my honest

opinion,

then, yes. He hurt her, but I don't think she's ready to let him go."

Dana let her eyes slide shut: with any luck, Spender would

think it was

because of her non-existent headache. In reality, she was reeling

from what

he had told her. She had suspected as much herself, but had

been unwilling to

accept it. Knowing that she was not the only one who had picked

up the true

reason for Diana's not so subtle return helped her, but she didn't

like it.

Mulder had been her partner for so long, she just couldn't bare

anyone else

threatening to take her place. He had done so much for her: she

owed him her

life several times over. She couldn't just let him go. They were

more than

partners: it was not a conventional relationship that they shared,

but it was

a profound one. She would not give it up for anyone, least of all

Diana the

ex-partner from hell.

Her mind made up, she opened her eyes to find Spender

looking at her, half

expectant, half wary. That's what you get for being Mrs. Spooky,

she told

herself as she stood. Although she gave the impression that she

disliked her

nickname, she was secretly pleased with it. She was prepared to

bet that

Diana had never been Mrs. Spooky. The thought made her smile,

which in turn

earned her another wary glance from Spender. It was more than

she could take.

"Let's go." Taking the lead, she headed for the door.

Mulder sat alone, in near darkness, waiting patiently for the

phone to

ring--marveling at his idiocy.

How could he have been so blind?

For almost six years now, he'd been fooling himself. Every day

he'd watched

his partner walk into the office, barely acknowledging her, using her

as

little more than a sweet distraction from the hell he called life.

She'd been

instrumental in his search for the truth, but had he ever once

acknowledged

her? Maybe once, but that was all. Had he ever given her credit

for all the

times she saved him from himself? Had he ever given her what she

truly

deserved?

No. He'd been too afraid. Diana was right. He'd deliberately

held Scully

at bay, never letting her too close, never wanting anything from her

and never

giving back to her. For one stupid reason. He'd been afraid she'd

throw it

right back in his face like everyone else.

But she'd gotten under his skin. Somehow, despite his every

attempt to keep

her away, she'd become more to him than Diana ever was. He

found himself

thinking about her when she wasn't around...laughing at something

she'd said

when he was alone...looking forward to seeing her every morning

and hearing

her voice on the phone almost every night...imagining what she

would say or do

at any given moment...wondering what it would be like to--

To kiss her. To make love to her. To lie beside her.

God, it wasn't supposed to be this way. She was just

supposed to be his

partner, nothing more. He had even fought that much with

everything he had.

So how had he gotten here?

He was in too deep now to ever know for sure.

Staring at the phone, he willed it to start ringing.

"Come on, Scully. Call me."

Agent Spender walked Dana to her door, his hand on her back.

It was odd;

that same gesture gave her goose-bumps every time Mulder did it--

yet Jeffrey's

touch just gave her the creeps. He smiled his wormy little smile at

her,

running his fingers through his curly hair as she fit her key into the

lock.

"I had a nice time, Scu--Dana. It was nice to see you out of

the office."

She nodded slightly, leaning against her door, trying not to

appear as if she

wished she could sink into the wood. "Yes, it was...fun."

"Would it be too much to ask if--I mean, since you and Agent

Mulder aren't--"

She waited, impatiently.

"May I kiss you good night, Dana?"

Her eyes widened slightly. She hadn't expected that at all.

Oh, why had he

had to mention Mulder and kissing at the same time? For almost

a full minute,

she hadn't thought of her partner at all. Now, all she could think of

was his

soft lips brushing over hers, his hands cradling her neck, his eyes

holding

her gaze with just as much tenderness as he held her in his arms.

She shook herself just in time to watch Spender licking his

lips, and she had

to fight the urge to grimace in disgust. "I, um--I don't think so,

Jeffrey.

Not yet."

"I understand," he said. "You probably want to take things

slower."

Yeah, she thought, like at a snail's pace. She cleared her

throat. "It's

just been a long time since I dated anyone."

He nodded, gazing down at his well-fit suit. She wondered

absently if he

ever wore anything else. "Me too."

They sat in awkward silence for a moment, as her hand curled

over the door

knob. She hoped he left soon, she wasn't about to invite him in.

"Are you sure you're going to be all right? How's your head?"

Her only headache right now was being caused by him. "I'll be

fine."

"Well then, I should go," he said, as if reading her mind. "I'll

see you in

the office on Monday?"

"Yes."

"All right. Thanks again, Dana."

"Thank you."

When he disappeared around the corner, she rushed inside and

locked the door

behind her. Leaning against the solid wood, she sagged weakly.

Thank God.

She thought the date would never end. Tossing her evening bag on

the couch,

she braced herself as she pulled off her high-heeled shoes. The

strappy black

stiletto heels were sexy and a bit racy. She'd meant to wear them

on a

special occasion. A date with a man she loathed didn't exactly

qualify.

Wiggling her stocking-covered toes on the carpet, she walked

to the

refrigerator and pulled out a beer. Twisting off the cap with

mechanical

efficiency, she guzzled down a healthy-sized swallow. She didn't

normally

drink, and only kept the beer on hand for the occasional times that

her

brother or Mulder visited, but tonight the frosty brew felt just right

sliding

down her throat. As she made her way to the bedroom, struggling

with one hand

to open her zipper, she tried to ignore the fact that she'd just

thought of

Mulder once again. What did that make, one hundred or two

hundred times

tonight?

All night long, through dinner, she'd tried to concentrate on

Jeffrey's

boring conversation. And despite the fact that Agent Spender

inspired nothing

but distaste from her, she'd found herself undeniably aroused. Not

because of

her dinner date, but because of the man she kept fantasizing

herself to be

with, instead. Every time Jeffrey's hand "accidentally" brushed her

own, she

felt an unexpected thrill race up her arm. It had taken a savage

bite to her

tongue just to keep from screaming out her partner's name.

Peeling off her dress, she tossed it on her bed before old habits

forced her

to hang it properly in the closet. She wished she was more like

Mulder, she

thought as she pulled off her panty-hose. She wished she was

impulsive and

passionate and reckless...wished she could leave her clothes lying

on the

floor and not care. By the time she pulled on a white T-shirt and

her pajama

bottoms, she had downed the entire beer. Drowning her own

misery.

Padding across the carpet in bare feet, she stopped before her

VCR and looked

over her selection of video tapes. No, not Casablanca, she

thought, bitterly.

No romances. A nice Wes Craven horror flick would be nice, with

lots of blood

and gore, but she was fresh out. A comedy would work, but she

didn't think

she could work up the nerve to laugh. She groaned, ready to throw

the tapes

against the wall. Then her hand stilled. There was one tape at the

bottom of

the stack. Unmarked, it looked to be blank, but she knew it

wasn't. She

remembered very clearly what this tape contained. Melissa had

given it to her

years ago, with a little smirk on her face. She'd told her she

thought the

tape might loosen up her inhibitions. When Dana had first watched

it, she'd

been shocked at her elder sister.

She was beyond shock now.

With a defiant grin, Dana pulled the tape from the stack and

popped it in the

VCR.

Settling back onto the couch, she used the remote to fast-

forward through the

FBI warnings. When the actual movie started, she felt her face

grow hot.

Writhing bodies on the screen, naked and gleaming with sweat.

Making sounds

so animalistic and primal. God, whomever made this sure hadn't

cared much for

plots. She doubted the characters even had names. What did it

matter anyway.

You didn't need a name to shout out "Fuck me, damn you."

She'd never even looked at her own body so closely. The

extreme zoom angle

of the camera focused on the most lethal-looking erection she'd

ever seen.

Not that she'd seen that many, outside of the medical profession.

The porno

stud was doing things to his little blond girl-friend that she hadn't

even

known were possible. And judging by her squeals, the girl was

loving every

minute of it.

Squirming in her seat, Dana pressed her thighs tighter

together. The wet

sounds of moaning and thrusting filled her apartment. She

wondered how Mulder

could watch these things without becoming permanently red in the

face. The

thought was so absurd, she laughed aloud. The man obviously

didn't care about

embarrassment. The only red in his face would be from lack of

oxygen.

Focusing on the screen, her mouth dropped open. "Oh, my."

Mulder stepped down the deserted hallway, his hands fisting

and unclenching

in rapid succession. For hours he'd sat alone in his apartment,

waiting for

Scully to call. She never had. Now it was nearly midnight and he

was walking

to her door.

He had almost talked himself out of it a hundred times. It

would have been

better if he had. He wouldn't be about to make a total ass out of

himself.

He'd driven his car like a demon, not caring if he was pulled

over. Wheels

screeching and brakes squealing, he'd skidded to a stop in front of

her

apartment. Her lights were on, and she was obviously home, so

why hadn't she

called? The answer was obvious...she wasn't alone.

He could feel the anger racing through his veins, burning like

fire,

scorching like acid. How could she have gone out with a weasel

like Spender?

She knew how much he hated that loser. And that was probably

exactly why

she'd done it. So much had changed between them lately. Scully

was always

irritable, always contradicting him...all right, that was normal, but

the

intensity with which she fought his ideas wasn't normal. She

wasn't just

disagreeing for the sake of science and rationality...there was more

to it

than that. There was just something driving them apart.

Spender, he thought, acidly.

The bastard had to go.

Nearing her door, he struggled to regain control of his rage. He

could only

imagine what they were doing in there.

No, some sane part of his brain thought. Scully would never let

Spender

touch her, she isn't that desperate. She doesn't hate me that

much.

Just as that thought started to calm him, he heard it--the

distinct sound of

moaning coming from inside Scully's apartment.

"Oh, yes...do it to me...oh, yesss, baaabby!"

The red haze that drifted over his vision was like a matador's

cape before a

bull. The woman's voice was so high-pitched, so strained with

passion, that

it was nearly a shriek. The feminine voice was followed with the

deep rumble

of masculine laughter and a low murmur of encouragement. God, it-

-it sounded

like he said "Like an animal."

Mulder could feel his nostrils flaring with the effort his breath

was

expelled. He wanted to break down the door, wrap his hands

around Spender's

neck, and squeeze the life out of him. It wouldn't take much effort.

He

lifted his fist, barely aware that his knuckles were chalky white,

and paused

just inches from the door. Maybe he should just leave while he still

could.

He really didn't want to witness what he was about to see. He

couldn't even

bear the thought of Scully with that loser. The actual sight might

be enough

to kill him.

No. If Scully was going to make the colossal mistake of

throwing her life

away, he wasn't just going to turn his back on her. He'd saved her

life

plenty of times before. It was time to do it again.

The sound of his clenched fist pounding on the door echoed

down the hallway

and caused several of her neighbors to open their own doors and

glare at him.

He didn't care. "Scully, open up. It's me. Scully!"

Dana was so startled she nearly jumped out of her skin. Her

face immediately

flamed as if she'd been caught in the act. She stumbled off of the

couch and

raced to the VCR, stopping the tape and nearly falling on her face

in the

process. Her heart was pounding a mile a minute. Trying

desperately to calm

herself, she said, "Hang on a minute."

Her voice was so pathetically jittery that he had to have heard

the tremors

himself.

She smoothed her shaking hands over her shirt, trying

desperately to erase

the wrinkles in the fabric. She tried to gauge her appearance

without a

mirror, hoping her sweaty palms hadn't left marks on her clothing.

Unlocking the door, she flinched when Mulder's fist pounded

the wood once

more. Opening the door, she glared at him. Even with his hair

disheveled and

his eyes wild with some unnamable emotion, he still looked too

damned good.

So good that she almost forgot to be angry at him.

"What are you doing here, Mulder?" she asked. "It's late."

He said nothing, just pushed past her into the living room. She

stared after

him, in awe of his brazen intrusion. For a moment, she couldn't

move. Then,

slowly, she shut the door.

"Where is he?" Mulder asked, gruffly, his eyes on the open

bedroom door.

They could both plainly see that the bed was neatly made.

"Who?"

"Don't give me that, Scully. Where's Spender?"

"He went home." That sounded a bit bitchy, but she didn't

bother

apologizing.

Mulder's brow furrowed as he glanced around the room. When

his gaze froze on

the TV screen, she felt her breath catch. Oh, God.

He glanced back at her, his perfect lips curving into a damning

smirk. "Do

you really expect me to believe you were sitting here alone, at

midnight,

watching...bowling?"

Her eyes flitted back to the TV screen and she almost groaned

aloud. She

hadn't given a second thought to what station was on. Damn! She

should have

shut the thing off entirely.

"Yes, I was watching bowling."

"Hmm...and what was all that moaning I heard?"

She turned about ten shades of red. "I--I really like bowling."

"Yeah, I know those bald, beer-bellied studs have that effect on

some

women...but I just didn't think you were the type, Scully."

She watched in mortification as he walked around the couch

towards the VCR.

Pushing the Play button, he leaned back and watched the TV

screen. The sights

and sounds of raunchy sex filled her tiny apartment, nearly

suffocating her.

Dana glanced longingly at the door, wishing she could make a fast

get-away.

"Oooh, Cinnamon and Sugar...I love this one." He glanced

back at her and

grinned. "If I'd known you did too, we could have watched it

together."

End Part 2

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

WILL YOU STILL LOVE ME? (3/5)

by Diadem and Isahunter

(Disclaimer and other info in part one--NC17!)

She frowned at his teasing comment, becoming terribly

defensive. "You're not

the only person in the world who's allowed to be turned on, Mulder.

I can

watch those tapes, too." She cleared her throat. "Besides, it was

a tape

Melissa gave me. I didn't even know what was on it."

"Mhmm."

She crossed her arms over her chest as he turned off the tape

and pushed the

Power button of the TV. Blessed silence screamed at them.

"What are you doing here, Mulder?"

For once, it was his turn to look sheepish. "I--I was just

checking on you.

You forgot to call."

"Well, I'm a big girl, Mulder. I can take care of myself."

"So I noticed."

"I think you should go now." She headed towards the door,

ready to usher him

out, but he didn't follow.

"How was your date, Scully?"

Did she imagine the slightly bitter edge to his voice? "It was

nice.

Jeffrey is a very considerate date."

"I notice he didn't stay long...did you kick him out?"

"No. He--he kissed me good night and then he left."

He wouldn't look at her, but she could plainly see the clenching

of his fist.

"Now that we're on the subject, how was your date with Diana?"

"It wasn't a date, it was just dinner."

"What's the difference?"

Finally, he met her eyes. "There's a very big difference, Scully."

The intense expression in his eyes was suddenly too much to

bear. "I'm

thirsty. Do you want a beer?"

He shook his head, but followed her into the kitchen. Leaning

against the

wall, he stared at her as she twisted off the cap and swilled down

her second

beer of the night. God, this was becoming a nasty habit.

"I drove Diana home early. I got sick of her when she kept

trying to attack

me on the couch."

Dana's eyes flew to his face. She couldn't avoid looking at him

anymore.

And as much as she tried to sound nonchalant, she didn't.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. That's a new one."

"I guess we're both seeing new sides to each other, Scully."

He reached out

and took her bottle from her, lifting it to his own lips. Even though

it was

no big deal, the movement was highly erotic. His lips were settling

over the

spot where hers had just been, savoring the flavor, suckling the

sweet juice

deep into his mouth. When he'd finished, he licked a stray drop

from the rim

and handed the bottle back to her. "The thing is, I'm not so sure I

like it."

She could barely remember what he was talking about. "Why?"

"I thought I knew everything about you, Scully. Now I find out I

didn't know

a thing."

"That's not true. I haven't changed, Mulder. I've just become

more

complete."

He smiled, half-heartedly. "Without telling me."

She stared at the moist rim of the beer bottle before taking

another drink.

For some reason, she had expected it to taste differently this time.

"You've been pulling away from me lately," he said, softly.

"Sometimes I

wonder if you're my partner or a shadow."

Sometimes I feel like one, she thought.

"I don't know what's happening, Scully. I just--I've lost the X-

files. I

don't want lose you, too."

"You haven't lost me, and you aren't going to." She felt the

sudden urge to

grab his hand, and it was hard to resist. But she had to resist. If

she

touched his hand, she knew she wouldn't stop there. "Things have

been

strained, working under SAC Kersh. I just have felt the need to

maintain some

professionalism."

Mulder wrinkled his nose, wondering what the hell she was

talking about.

When wasn't she professional? He had yet to see a wild side to

Scully...well,

until tonight, that is. His gaze drifted back to the television and he

had to

fight the urge to grin. Every time he imagined her, sitting here

alone in the

dark, watching porno flicks...damn, it was almost enough to make

his pants pop

a seam.

He had to wonder why he'd never seen this side to her before.

Had Agent

Spender brought out this wild streak in her, or was it always there,

lying

dormant under the surface? The thought of Spender touching her

was enough to

make him want to vomit, but the thought that the weasel might

have inspired

lust in his partner was too much.

"I noticed you haven't been pulling away from Agent Spender."

She tilted her head as she studied him. "Are you...jealous,

Mulder?"

He laughed. "I think you've had too much alcohol for one night."

"Agent Spender is a nice distraction from our normal case load.

As much

excitement as domestic terrorism is, sometimes a girl just needs a

chance to

catch her breath."

"So, he's just a boy toy?"

She smirked. "Something like that."

He tried to convince her of his disinterest by yawning. "So,

when do you

think you'll see him again?"

"Tomorrow night."

"What?"

She sauntered past him to the couch. "I told him as long as he

brings the

condoms, I'll be ready."

Mulder narrowed his eyes. "You've got a vicious streak, G-

woman."

"Look, this has been fun, but I'm tired, Mulder."

He wasn't about to let her kick him out, not now. She wasn't

going to treat

Spender with more respect than she did him, not over his dead

body. He was

her partner, damn it. He deserved better. And he was going to get

it.

"I'm not going anywhere, Dana."

She looked up at him, the smile falling from her face at the tone

of his

voice.

"We need to talk. Now."

She must have sensed the seriousness of his tone, for she

didn't make any

snide comments. She merely set her bottle down on the coffee

table and waited

for him to continue.

Now that he had her full concentration, he couldn't think of a

thing to say.

For a moment he just stood there, staring at the sexy fullness of

her lower

lip. She really had no idea how much she affected him, just by

sitting still.

He couldn't imagine what he'd do if--

"Mulder?"

"When I almost kissed you, before the bee sting...it was a

mistake."

She sucked in a quick breath, shock betraying her features,

before resuming

that calm effigy he knew so well. If the wounded look on her face

hadn't been

so breath-taking, he might have thought he'd imagined it.

To his surprise, she nodded. "I know. We were just under a

lot of stress.

So many things were happening so quickly, and--"

"No, you don't understand. I'm not saying I didn't want it to

happen." Her

gaze swept back to him so swiftly that he almost lost his nerve. "I

just

didn't mean for it to happen then. The timing...there was

something I needed

to finish first. Something I needed you to know."

She just stared at him, expectantly.

"Diana and I were married. A long time ago."

"When you found the X-files," she said, in a half-whisper.

"I thought she was different. But she ended up leaving me just

like everyone

else." He smiled wryly, suddenly wishing he'd taken her up on that

offer for

a drink. "I should have told you, but I--I really didn't want to bring it

up.

I just wanted to forget about her. I never for a moment thought she

would

come back here."

"You still love her--No, don't answer that. It's none of my

business."

As she focused back on her folded hands, he found the

courage to step closer

to her. He lowered his voice, to the soft murmur he always used to

tease

her...only, this time, he was deadly serious.

"Yes, it is your business."

"No, Mulder, I'm your partner. Do you really think you'd be

telling me this

stuff if I were a man?"

"I know I wouldn't have almost kissed you if you were a man."

She smiled a bit, but it didn't last. "Why are you telling me

this?"

"I'll answer that when I've finished what I have to say." Sitting

on the arm

rest of the couch, he carefully avoided her gaze. "Diana wants to

start over

where we left off."

Scully stood up suddenly, moving away from him. She didn't

get far before he

grabbed her wrist.

"Mulder, this isn't any of my concern."

"Damn it, Scully, I'm trying to tell you something. I've been

trying so hard

to figure this out. She was my wife, and I loved her, but I don't

know if I

can forgive her for what she did. I don't even know if I want to. And

all

this time I've been fighting this desire that I can't control. I don't

want

to hurt anyone the way she hurt me...and that's why I think the

kiss was a

mistake."

Although she wasn't facing him, he could easily see that she

was confused.

"I wanted to sort out what I was feeling," he continued, "to

make sure I

wasn't just using you to spite her. I was so angry when she left

me, I

thought I'd never trust anyone again. But you proved me wrong,

Scully. Time

and again. I knew if I did anything to mess that up, I'd lose you

too."

"You're losing me right now, Mulder. What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I've finally figured it out."

"And?"

"And I don't want her, I want you."

She finally looked at him...with that shocked, wounded look in

her eyes

again. "You don't know what you want, Mulder."

"The hell I don't." He stood up, pulling her closer with the hand

he had

shackled around her wrist. "I know exactly what I want, and so do

you.

You're just too scared to admit it."

"You think I'm afraid of you?"

"No, I think you're afraid of needing me...just as much as I'm

afraid of

needing you. But that doesn't change the fact that I do." He slid

his finger

along the rapid warmth of her pulse as he talked, enjoying the way

it leapt

against his touch. "I never wanted to trust you, never wanted you

to be

anything to me. But I can't fight fate any more than little green

men."

Her mouth dropped open as she stared at him, that luscious

lower lip

quivering ever so slightly. And just like every other time he caught

himself

watching that plush mouth, he wanted to kiss her.

He lowered his voice even farther, until his words were little

more than a

husky whisper against her ear. "I was wrong to have tried to kiss

you then,

but that was just bad timing, not bad judgment. Wanting to kiss

you was the

only smart thing I've ever done."

She sucked in a shuddering breath, leaning closer, probably

unaware she'd

even done so. And when her breasts brushed against his chest,

he couldn't

stop himself from claiming what was rightfully his.

His hands slid up her arms, over her shoulders, to cradle her

neck as he

kissed her lips. Her mouth opened below him with just a touch.

He drew that

pouty lower lip into his mouth and tugged, wringing a moan out of

her that

surely had to have come from her toes. Her hands fisted in his

shirt, so hot

through the thin material he could feel them burning against his

chest. The

slow tangle of her tongue over his was almost his undoing.

Without fully breaking the kiss, he whispered against her lips.

"Do you have

any idea what you do to me? Every time I look at you I nearly go

out of my

mind."

His words barely had time to register in Dana's brain before she

was pushing

away from him. She took several hasty steps backwards, putting

up a hand to

stop his advance. God, the look on his face was like none she'd

ever seen

before. She'd thought she'd seen all of Mulder's expressions...but

nothing

could have prepared her for his look of full-blown lust.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice unusually rough.

"We shouldn't be doing this. What would the bureau say?"

He looked at her like she was crazy. Now there was an

expression she knew

how to handle. "Who cares?"

"I do."

He sank to the couch, momentarily defeated. "You're more

scared that I

thought."

She could only laugh. "Mulder, I'm not scared."

"I won't hurt you. I promise."

"I know you would never hurt me. I'm not afraid of you, Mulder.

And even if

I were, I know how to use a gun."

"So I recall." He was silent for a moment. "Then what are you

afraid of?"

She opened her mouth to deny it again, but he stilled her with a

look. God,

he knew her too well.

"Do you still love her?"

When he hesitated, her heart sank. "I'll always love her, but

not as she is

now. I love a memory. She's not the same person anymore."

She almost wished he'd lied.

"Scully, I love her like I love my sister. They're both lost to me.

I don't

know them anymore, so I have to move on."

"You still search for Samantha. You've never stopped."

He groaned. "All right, it was a bad analogy. Let's just say

that if Diana

offered herself to me, and promised never to leave again--which is

exactly

what she did--I wouldn't, and didn't, take what she offered. It's over

between us."

She remained where she stood, still unconvinced.

"Dana, please...I'm sorry I kept it from you. I should have told

you the

truth. I can only promise you there will be no more secrets

between us.

Ever."

The step she took was slow, slight in distance, but it felt like

she'd walked

a mile. He watched her, not daring to move, as if she might dart

away if

spooked. A little step closer, then one more. It was a slow

torturous

journey that he him breathing hard before she ever reached him.

His gaze was

locked with hers, not allowing any escape. And the moment her

hand touched

his shoulder, he flinched. She slid her knee onto the couch beside

him and

slowly lowered herself astride his legs.

He gasped. "God, Scully--"

"Call me Dana again," she said, as she pressed even closer.

"Please?"

"Just keep doing that, Dana, and I'll call you whatever the hell

you want."

She grinned. "Kiss me again. I won't stop you this time, I

promise."

He didn't wait for her to change her mind. He kissed her

shamelessly,

flawlessly, as if he'd done it a million times before. There was no

awkwardness, none of the embarrassment she'd had with her few

past lovers. It

was like he knew what she wanted even before she asked.

His hands slid up to grasp her hips, holding her tighter against

the

startling bulge developing between his legs. She couldn't stop

herself from

tilting her hips, rocking her pelvis against him in a rhythm all her

own. He

gasped again, breaking away from her lips.

"Tell me you learned that move from the video and not from

Spender."

"Mulder, I may have stretched the truth a little."

He cocked an eyebrow.

"Spender never kissed me...I wouldn't even let him touch my

hand."

"You are cruel. So that was the video, hmm?"

"Uh-uh. That move was all my own."

He barely had time to look shocked again, before she began

kissing his neck.

He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, looking blissfully

unaware as she

unknotted his tie.

"Do you have any idea how many times I've fantasized about

this?"

"I can imagine."

The buttons on his shirt proved a bit more difficult for her

fumbling

fingers. She couldn't believe how badly her hands were shaking.

"Mulder,

help me."

His eyes opened to slits. "Girls can't do anything right."

She was about to pinch him when he grasped both sides of his

shirt and ripped

the buttons open. They popped off in wild disarray, spinning onto

the floor

and bouncing off the wall. Giving his cuffs the same treatment, he

quickly

yanked the shirt off and threw it to the floor. His T-shirt quickly

followed.

When he was naked from the waist up, she could barely keep her

hands to

herself. It wasn't the first time she'd seen him without his clothes,

but it

was the first time she got to touch. To let her caress linger over

the hard

planes of his stomach, to smooth over his rounded pecs, to tangle

in the hair

on his chest. And as her fingernails lightly scraped against his

nipples, he

nearly bolted off the couch.

His relaxed mood completely disappeared, replaced with an

urgency that

startled her. She was far from frightened, but his sudden intensity

was

intimidating. He pushed her hands out of the way, grasped her

shirt, and

yanked it over her head. He was just about to toss it to the floor

when he

paused and brought it up to his nose. She knew the bit of perfume

she'd worn

on her date was clinging to the fabric. He inhaled deeply, his eyes

closed,

before dropping the shirt and pulling her closer instead. His hand

on her

back fumbled with her bra, as he settled his face into the curve of

her neck.

He nuzzled her jaw, breathing deeply of her scent.

"Dana, you smell so good."

"I thought you didn't like my perfume."

"I don't. It's not the perfume, it's you. You smell good."

She felt the catch on her bra snap free and flinched. She

couldn't help it.

He'd seen her naked before, just recently in fact, but she

suspected that he'd

never really looked at her. Well, he probably had...but she hadn't

watched

him do it. As he settled back to look at her, his hands slipping the

straps

off of her shoulders, she had to fight the urge to close her eyes.

Staring at her with his eyes wildly dilated, he didn't say a word.

She could

feel her nipples tightening under his perusal, in the cool air. After a

moment, the hand he had on her back slid around to her waist,

pulling her

closer, as he lowered his mouth to her breast. So many times

she'd wanted him

to do just this. The first time had been in Oregon, so long ago, on

their

first case. She'd been so scared by the mosquito bites she'd found

on her

body, she'd wanted him to hold her...and she'd wanted much more

than that.

She wanted his hands on her, as they were now, so large and

warm, so soothing.

She'd wanted his mouth on her, as it was now, tasting every

textured inch of

her skin. She'd wanted him on her, as he'd soon be...the

anticipation was

almost more than she could bear.

His hand splayed across her back, his fingers spread, covering

nearly the

entire surface. She leaned back against his palm, arching her

torso, giving

him better access to her tingling flesh. His tongue flicked across

the

pebbled skin, dancing across her breasts with torturously light

contact,

barely enough to feel, not nearly enough to satisfy. He was

deliberately

teasing her, damn him. Well, enough was enough.

Seizing him by the belt buckle, she decided it was time to take

matters into

her own hands...so to speak.

"Jeez, Scully, when I said those videos were purely

educational, I didn't

intend for you to start studying them."

She smirked up at him, as she pulled the belt free from its

loops. "My name

is Dana."

"Sorry, seems to have slipped my mind."

"I can't imagine why."

She pulled his zipper down with agonizing slowness, causing

him to inhale

sharply. She knew her knuckles were riding the ridge in his pants,

pressing

so sweetly against his crotch. Deliberately teasing, giving him just

what he

deserved. He looked so damned sexy, slouched there on her

couch with his

pants open, staring at her with passion-glazed eyes, his body fairly

demanding

that she touch him. And touch him she did.

He let out a strangled curse as her hand slid inside his pants to

cup the

tempting bulge in his boxers. His eyelids fluttered, before falling

closed

altogether. As much fun as it was to watch him squirm, she wasn't

through

there. Sliding down from his lap, she grasped his pant-legs and

tugged. He

aided her attempt by lifting his hips. When the slacks had puddled

around his

feet, she stood back and surveyed her prey. My, my. The porno

stud had

nothing on Fox Mulder.

"I don't know, Mulder. I'm not sure this is going to work."

That got his attention. "What? Why not?"

"Didn't anyone ever tell you I have a fear of heights?"

He glanced down at his erection, straining in his shorts,

standing taller

than ever before, and grinned. "Well, I think we might be able to do

something about that."

"Such as?"

"I guess you'll just have to wait to be on top until that pesky

little fear

is conquered."

Sliding down onto her knees, she slid her hands up his thighs,

loving the way

his breath ceased. He watched her through barely-opened eyes

she caught the

waist band of his boxers and pulled. Not enough to pull them off,

just far

enough for his erection to spring free. Never for a moment looking

away, she

leaned forward and took him into her mouth.

"This one was the video, right?" he asked, on a gasp. "Right?"

She didn't answer, merely giggled. She continued to bathe him

with her

tongue, over and around, up and down, until his hips were shifting

involuntarily below her. She pulled away from him before he lost

control

completely. She glanced up to see his eyes closed tightly, his

hands crushing

the couch pillows.

The moment she stopped her ministrations and stood back to

look at him, he

lost all patience with her. "That was so unfair."

Standing abruptly, he shoved his shorts all the way down and

held his hands

out to her. Her eyes widened slightly, taking in all of him--God,

*all* of

him--with one, slow, sweeping stare. Something Michalangelo

once said came to

mind as her eyes enjoyed the scenery. *I saw an angel in the

marble and

carved until I set him free.* Yeah, she thought, licking her lips. He

was

like marble, only better. Impeccably carved, but with a radiating

heat marble

could never hold. Pure muscle, sinew, sweat, and sin. Lord, he

even smelled

and tasted forbidden. She could help staring at the bold thrust of

his

glistening erection.

Ever since the first time, she'd had the impressive image of

Mulder's naked

body stored in her mind. But now...Mulder's naked and decidedly

aroused body

was seared so deep in her brain she'd never forget it.

The sight of him reaching out to her, with his pants tangled

around his

ankles like a little boy, was so absurdly adorable she had to laugh.

He dropped his arms. "That's not exactly the reaction I'd been

hoping for."

"I'm s-sorry--y-you just look so--"

"Stupid," Mulder answered, toeing off his socks and shoes.

Sliding his feet

free of his clothing, he finally met her gaze. She wasn't laughing

anymore.

In fact, she was staring so intently he could feel it all the way to his

gut.

With that gorgeous mouth dropped open slightly, standing before

him in only a

pair of low-riding pajama bottoms, gloriously naked from the waist

up, she

stared at him as if she might devour him.

"Now, that's the reaction I wanted to see."

She smiled a little, looking suddenly self-conscious. She

swallowed heavily,

before saying, "Mulder, maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

There she went getting all scared and girlie on him again. It

amazed the

hell out of him every time. He'd once thought Scully was never

vulnerable.

But he wasn't about to let her back out now. Not a chance.

Never taking his eyes off of her, he began moving menacingly

closer. Her

eyes widened, as she backed away from the wild-eyed naked man

that was

stalking her. She didn't even seem to notice that she was backing

away until

she hit the wall. Her hands came up to stop his advance, pressing

against his

chest, but it was no use. His hand captured the back of her neck,

his lips

swept down to claim hers, and whatever protest she'd had was

lost. She

whimpered against his mouth, but it wasn't a sound of fear or

regret. It only

spoke of surrender.

Her arms came up to wrap around his neck as she stood on tip-

toe, pressing

herself against the part of him that strained for her touch. Her hips

slid to

and fro in a sensual slither, stroking against his cock so brazenly

that he

had to gasp. Neither the wanton femme-fatale he was seeing now

nor the

blushing girlish tease she'd been just moments ago were the

Scully he knew and

loved...but he couldn't decide which one he liked the best.

Sliding his knee in between her legs, he lifted her onto his

thigh. So much

for a fear of heights. She gasped, clutching at his shoulders,

grinding her

pelvis against him in a way that made his knees weak. God, if she

kept up

this shameless little seduction, he'd end up in a lifeless heap upon

the

floor.

Her head fell back upon her shoulders, her eyes closed, and

her mouth opened

on a shaky sigh.

"Oh, God...Mulder--"

She'd never said his name quite like that before. He wanted to

hear it again

and again. He slid his hand down the back of her pajamas, into

her silky

panties, cupping the rounded sweetness of her ass, holding her

that much

tighter to him. And when his fingers slid deeper to tease the damp

folds

between her legs, she nearly screamed in his ear.

She hugged his neck so tightly she was almost choking him,

pressing her firm

breasts against his chest, spasming in his arms. Her shuddering

gasp was

music to his ears. Damn, he'd barely touched her. If she was this

responsive

with just the brush of his fingers, what would she do when he was

inside her?

He couldn't wait to find out.

Lowering her back to her feet, just long enough to divest her of

the rest of

her clothes, he stared in awe at the amazing sight before him.

Special Agent

Dana Scully, naked and ablaze in breathless glory. He'd thought

the woman was

perfection before, but he hadn't known the half of it. Flawless ivory

skin,

kissed with the flush of desire, crowned with a golden cross

necklace, studded

with cherry nipples, and dressed in curls the color of fox fur. How

appropriate, he thought, wryly. Every inch of her screamed beauty,

all the

way down to the rose-lacquered toes she was curling in the carpet.

"Shit, Dana--why do you even bother wearing clothes?"

Leaning against the wall as if it were the only thing that kept

her standing,

she murmured, "Somehow, I think SAC Kersh might frown on that

sort of thing."

"Not if he has a brain in his head."

He wanted to feel her, skin to skin, nothing in the way...no

more barriers.

He knew he couldn't get her pregnant, and the thought saddened

him a bit, but

it also meant he could get that much closer to her. To feel her

melting heat

surrounding him. Gripping her waist in his hands, he lowered his

lips to her

ear.

"Wrap your legs around me, baby, I can't wait much longer."

She didn't hesitate. She slid her leg up his thigh until she felt

him grab

hold of it and lift her. Wrapping the other leg around, she crossed

her

ankles behind him and held on tight. He met her eyes with steely

determination, breaking a sweat on his forehead, as he drove

himself into her

body and held her slender frame to the wall. She moaned, her

fingernails

digging into his shoulders, as he slid deep inside of her. And it

was so

good. Sweet fucking God, it was good.

She continued to watch him in that joyous, breathless, half-

smirking way of

hers. He hadn't seen that expression on her face since he'd first

met her.

She'd been so young and naive, so full of endless optimism, and he

hadn't been

able to stop himself from loving her...even just a little bit. Now he

had all

of her. Every helpless sigh and whimper as he moved so

powerfully within her.

Every shuddering spasm that racked her, long before she starting

coming.

Every clenching, aching need she wrapped so beautifully around

him.

Oh, hell yes, it was good.

Dana tightened her grip on him, felt herself losing control and

fast. How

did he know how to do that? she thought, dazedly. How did he

touch her

everywhere at once...how did he know exactly how to move in order

to drive her

crazy...how did he know just how to look at her, to make her want

to scream?

He knew her too well. He knew exactly when she felt heaven

and earth

collide, knew just how to hold her, just how to fling her into oblivion.

He

sped up his driving rhythm, slamming her against the wall behind

her, pounding

into her so completely she saw stars.

"Oh, Fox, please--mmm, oh, I l-l-love y-you..."

His storm rode up fast behind hers, barely leaving her room to

breathe, so

violent and tempestuous it threatened to overwhelm her. For the

first time,

his eyes fell from hers as he lowered his forehead to her shoulder,

spilling

himself inside of her with a bestial moan.

In the breathless, stunning aftermath, he was shaking so hard

she thought he

might collapse. Sustaining her weight as well as his own couldn't

have been

good on his muscles.

"Mulder, let me down."

His voice was rough, muffled against her neck. "Not until you

tell me I

heard you right."

"Mulder, I'm too heavy--"

His eyes, no longer glazed but direct and lazer-bright, centered

on hers.

"Tell me what you said. Say it again."

"I said--" She licked her lips. "I said I love you."

"Again."

"I love you, Mulder."

"Say 'I love you, Fox'."

"I love you, Fox."

"That's what I thought you said."

The tender kiss he placed on her lips was the sweetest and

softest she'd ever

received. And he did eventually let her down...but not until he'd

reached the bed.

End Part 3

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

WILL YOU STILL LOVE ME? (4/5)

by Diadem and Isahunter

(Disclaimer and other info in part one--NC17!)

The raucous sound of Scully's laughter filled the tiny bathroom,

drowning out

even the running water. Bouncing off the wet tiles, the boisterous

sound was

the most erotic thing he'd ever heard.

Early morning sunlight filtered through the frosted window,

casting the room

in a pale yellow haze. Mulder set the slippery bar of soap back in

its holder

and resumed his explorations. Fingers coated with suds, he slid

his hands

sensuously down her back and grinned at the shivers his touch

produced. With

her hand braced on the wall, Scully leaned back against him and

let the steamy

spray of the shower wash over her chest.

"You know," he said, running his palm over her tattoo, "I think

this is my

favorite part."

She giggled again, sounding like she'd just guzzled a bottle of

champagne.

But he knew she was completely sober of alcohol...she was drunk

on something

far sweeter. "You said the same thing about the dimples behind

my knees, and

my pinky finger, and my breasts."

"No, I do believe I said tits, Dana."

She laughed again, the very response he'd been hoping for.

Sliding down even

farther, smoothing his palms over the perfectly rounded slopes of

her ass, he

grinned to himself. She looked even better wet.

Dana wiggled against him, flinching when he bit her lightly on

the back of

her thigh. She couldn't stop smiling. She'd barely slept at all last

night--he hadn't let her--but, strangely, she felt more energized than

ever

before. She'd woke to find him staring at her, not even bothering to

wake

her. Seconds later, she'd watched his perfect little butt jiggling as

he made

his way to the bathroom. The sound of the water running had been

tempting,

but she was too sore to move. Luckily, she hadn't had to. He'd

carried her

in to join him.

She let out another contented sigh, leaning against him as he

straightened to

his full height behind her. His body was slick, hot, and

unmistakably

aroused. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he nuzzled her

neck from behind.

He'd already washed her hair, and she'd returned the favor, but she

knew that

soon the water would begin to turn cold. She frowned. She didn't

want to

leave the shower ever again...even if she turned into a prune.

His tongue skimmed over the tiny scar on the back of her neck.

Over the

implant, the cure for her cancer. He'd done it several times during

the

night. She suspected he was thinking the same thing she was.

Without that

little scar, she wouldn't be here.

"Put your foot up here," he whispered, gesturing to the edge of

the bathtub.

With barely a thought, she did as he asked. Her only concern

was that he

keep doing that thing to her neck. Running his tongue back and

forth, around

and around the implant that kept her alive. Of all the ways he'd

ever touched

her, she liked that the most--

Well, maybe.

When she felt his soapy fingers slide through the curls between

her legs, she

wasn't so sure. With deft skill, he found the one place that could

make her

cry out loud. Just the briefest brush of his finger, and then the

touch was

gone. Scissoring his fingers apart, he opened her, and using the

pressure of

his own body behind her, he tilted her hips forward to receive the

full force

of the water. Pelted with stinging spray on the most sensitive part

of her

body, she gasped. His tongue continued to work its magic on her,

his heated

skin warmed her from behind, and the rapidly cooling water from

the shower

head pounded her into oblivion.

It wasn't long before she was shuddering in his arms. Barely

able to stand

on her own feet. If he hadn't been holding her up, she might have

collapsed.

When the water started to turn chilly, he reached out and

turned it off. But

he didn't move. Still gasping, she was grateful for that much. As

her

breathing began to return to normal, he placed one last kiss on her

shoulder.

It was at that exact moment that they both heard it--the

distinctly shrill

sound of a cell phone ringing.

"Damn it," he muttered.

She was about to tell him to ignore it, when she realized that it

wasn't even

her phone. Her battery was still charging.

"That's your phone."

"I know."

Still he didn't move.

"Shouldn't you get it? It might be important."

She could feel him nodding against her neck. The shower door

opened, letting

in a rush of cooler air. She shivered, absently watching him as he

wrapped a

towel around his waist. Handing her the other towel, he didn't even

glance at

her as he left the room.

By the time she emerged from the steamy bathroom, wrapped

in a plush robe and

towel-drying her hair, he was already half dressed. She stopped in

her

tracks, staring at him, waiting for an explanation.

"I have to go," he said, briefly meeting her gaze. "Diana needs

me."

She didn't move, didn't say a word, but she didn't need to.

"It's not what you think, Scully. She has some sort of

emergency. You know

I wouldn't go unless I had to."

"I know," she said, lightly.

He paused in the middle of pulling on his wrinkled, buttonless

shirt.

Meeting her eyes, he seemed to be looking for some sort of

accusation. She

hoped he didn't see one.

"I told you no more secrets, and I meant it. This is just

business."

She didn't bother to tell him how guilty he sounded.

"Will I see you again?" she asked.

"Do you mean ever, or tonight?"

"Stop getting so defensive, I just asked you a question."

"Yes, you'll see me again. Tonight probably."

She tried to smile as he stuffed his feet into his shoes and

headed to the

door. He stopped half way to his goal and turned around, finally

realizing

she was still there. Brushing a quick kiss across her forehead, he

murmured

something about seeing her later.

"Don't forget to lock up after I've gone, Scully."

As the door closed in his wake, she sighed and irritably tossed

her towel to

the floor. "My name is Dana."

Mulder stood silently in the hallway, his hand braced on the

closed door,

thinking himself ten times a fool. He shouldn't have left her like

that.

Even now he felt the overwhelming urge to walk back into her arms

and forget

he'd ever heard the phone ring. He was just so damned angry. It

was just

like Diana to call at a time like this. It was like the woman had a

radar

locked on his happiness and would do anything to destroy it.

He closed his eyes, silently cursing. He could almost feel

Scully, her heatradiating to him through the doorway. He hadn't

wanted to

leave it that way. But he hadn't wanted to take his anger out on

her either.

Last night had been the only bit of perfection he'd ever

tasted...and Diana

had ruined it.

He'd wanted to tell her he couldn't come, that he was too busy

to run to her

rescue. But she'd just sounded so damned desperate. She'd said

no one else

could help her. And like the idiot he was, he'd said he'd be right

over. The

moment Scully had walked out of that bathroom and stared at him,

he'd known.

He'd ruined everything. She hadn't said much, but he could see it

plainly in

her eyes. *You're going to her, rushing off to do her bidding, just

like

always. Why should I even be surprised?* He could see her

disappointment,

her hurt, and it cut him to the core to know that he was the cause.

It was

exactly why he hadn't taken the time to reassure her. He knew

she wouldn't

believe a word he said...and he didn't want to say anything else to

incriminate himself. He was in deep enough already.

Diana had said it was important. After the conversation they'd

had the night

before, he knew it had better be. He wasn't about to rush off to her

rescue

for a broken nail or a stubbed toe. Perhaps she had gotten him the

proof he

needed to reopen the X-files. It was that possibility alone that had

convinced him. Her only stipulation had been that he come alone.

It didn't

surprise him. Diana was just as jealous of Scully as Scully

seemed to be of

her.

Maybe Scully would understand better when he returned.

Maybe, when he knew

the whole story and could explain just what Diana's emergency had

been, she

would know he never meant to deceive her. Maybe she'd forget it

had ever

happened, and kiss him again in that way that drove him to his

knees.

And maybe Cancer Man was just a highly misunderstood old

man with innocent

motives and an addictive habit.

Straightening away from the door, he began slowly walking

down the

hallway--feeling the gap between them widen a bit more with each

step. By the

time he reached his car, he could barely feel her touch on his lips

anymore.

"Damn it!"

Wriggling to and fro into a pair of impossibly tight jeans, Dana

sucked in a

deep breath and pulled up the zipper. Not bothering with a bra, she

pulled on

her University of Maryland sweatshirt and slipped on a pair of

shoes. She was

moving so quickly she nearly forgot her keys.

Rushing to the door, she prayed she wasn't too late. She had

to catch Mulder

before he left.

When the door had closed behind him, she couldn't stop

thinking about

something Spender had said the night before.

*Diana is rarely in the office these days, she won't let me

answer the phone,

and she never tells me where she's gone. Its as if she thinks she

has to

solve these cases herself. I never have a thing to do anymore.*

At the time, she'd tuned him out, not really caring about his

boredom in her

old office. She would have given her right arm to be back in that

basement.

But now, what he'd said didn't make sense. It didn't sound like

Diana was

being over-productive, it sounded like she was deliberately keeping

things

from her partner. Why was Diana being so secretive? What did

she have to

hide?

Stepping out into the hallway, Dana locked the door behind her.

Her steps

were twice as fast as normal, and she was almost running by the

time she

reached the main doors. He couldn't have left already. He just

couldn't

have.

She knew Spender had some sort of connection to Cancer

Man. Mulder had said

so himself. Was it possible Diana also had some connections with

the wrong

people? If so, why wouldn't Spender know about it?

But maybe he did. Maybe he just hadn't told her about it,

because he thought

she would tell Mulder. As much as she had tried to convince

Spender there was

nothing between Mulder and herself, she knew she hadn't been

very convincing.

God, if the man had any sort of brain he could have seen it plainly

in her

eyes.

She stopped abruptly, thinking of something else--something

that hadn't

occurred to her the night before. She'd gone out to dinner with

Spender to

get information about Diana. What was to keep Spender from

doing the same

exact thing to her? What was to keep him from drilling her for

information

about Mulder and the X-Files?

Oh God. Her feet flew down the sidewalk, and she nearly

slipped on the wet

cement. Cold wind rushed past her face, pulling unwanted tears

from her

stinging eyes. Damn it, damn it, damn it. What had she been

thinking?

She reached the curb just in time to see Mulder pulling away

up the street.

He didn't even see her racing after him. He didn't hear her shouts

and random

curses as she twisted her ankle on the curb.

The only thing left to do now was to follow him.

Mulder banged his fist against the wheel impatiently as the

traffic in front

of him refused to cooperate. Now that he had left Scully, he just

wanted to

get this meeting over with as soon as possible. Already he was

starting to

dread what he might have to face when he saw Scully again. OK,

so she was a

reasonable person, and she had tolerated him pretty well over the

years, but

Mulder suspected that he had gone too far this time. Running out

and leaving

her like that, especially after what had happened between them the

night

before. He had never wanted to leave her again. He still didn't.

But he

had.

Once again, he hit the steering wheel, his irritation building as

he failed

to make it through yet another set of lights. The address Diana

had given him

was a warehouse on the eastern edge of town. He had never

thought to question

why she was there, although, now he thought about it, it was a

damned strange

place to ask him to go to. Idly wondering what sort of trouble she

had gotten

herself into now, Mulder pulled away from the lights.

A car was much more comfortable, Dana reflected, as she

waited for the traffic to start up again. She could see Mulder's car

about

four cars in front, so she was in no hurry. It's certainly easier than

chasing after him on foot, she thought, as she wiggled her ankle. It

was not

hurting much anymore: not enough to stop her from driving,

anyway, thank God.

She started slightly as she heard a car somewhere in front of

her rev its

engine, loudly. Mulder, she thought, with a faint smile. It had to

be. He

had always been impatient. Impulsive too. Last night had shown

her that.

And when he had run out on her this morning, running back to that

bitch--no,

his WIFE, well, that was just the last straw. So why are you

following him?

she asked herself.

Because I can't help myself.

As Mulder pulled up in front of the warehouse he glanced at the

clock on the

dashboard. 10:02. With any luck he could take care of this, head

back to

Scully's apartment, buy some flowers on the way, beg for

forgiveness, and then

take her somewhere nice for lunch. Maybe he could count the

flying pigs on

the way home as well...

It was evident from the outside of the building that it had not

been used for

some time. A fairly large structure, built mostly of timber, it had

probably

been let to one of the companies on the large industrial estate

nearby. Now,

however, it was dilapidated, with its only apparent door held on by

extremely

rusty hinges. Mulder slammed the car door, walked over, and

slowly pushed the

door open.

The rust on the hinges resulted in an ominous sounding creak

which echoed

around the building as Mulder stepped inside.

"Who is it?" The voice had come from the opposite wall to the

one at which

he was standing, and although it was too dark to see the speaker,

Mulder knew

that it was Diana. And she sounded terrified.

"Diana?" He hissed. "It's me, Mul--Fox. Stay where you are,

I'll find

you."

"Fox!" Relief flooded her voice, and he could have sworn he

heard a sob.

"It's all right, they've gone for the moment. That was how I called

you..."

"Who?" he interrupted, trying to keep her talking until he could

locate her.

"The men that brought me here."

The men that brought her here? She had been kidnapped?

Why had she called

him? Textbook pages from his Quantico days came back to him.

"In abductions,

time is of the essence. Most kidnappers harm or kill their victims

within the

first 24 hours." She should have called for FBI back-up.

His leg hit something hard, a crate or something. He reached

down to

investigate, and his hand brushed something metallic. A lamp. He

flipped the

switch, and as his eyes became accustomed to the sudden light,

he realized

that he had collided with a desk.

"Are you all right?"

He spun round upon hearing her voice, suddenly so close. She

was standing,

just a few feet away, hair in tangles, make up smudged, clothes

rumpled,

looking as if she had completely given up hope. Her hands were

behind her

back, tied, or handcuffed, he couldn't see.

"It's all right. I'm here now." He reached for her, but she pulled

away

from him.

"Don't. They'll be back any minute." She lifted her eyes to his

as though

he were her last hope in the world. "Do you have your weapon?"

Damn! He had been in such a hurry to rescue Scully from the

weasel the night

before that he had left it on his desk. Diana had trusted him, and

he hadn't

even remembered his gun. He had never thought that the situation

could have

been a kidnapping, she hadn't sounded that frightened.

"No, I..." He trailed off as Diana's whole demeanor changed,

and she whipped

out a pistol from behind her back.

"In that case, you'd better get back against that wall, Fox," she

hissed.

"You and I have things to talk about."

Silently, he complied.

He backed up until he felt the wall behind him. He couldn't

take his eyes

off her. She was fascinating. There was a purely evil light dancing

in her

eyes, and the body of the weak and vulnerable woman she had

been just seconds

before was strong and supple, ready to combat any move he made.

"You thought you had me all figured out, didn't you?" she

snarled, tossing

her hair out of her eyes. "You thought I was the little wife, come

back to

you after all those years because I couldn't live without you. Well

you were

wrong, Fox. A lot of things have changed since I saw you last."

She smiled,

an evil smile that cut an ugly gash through her face. "Not least the

number

of buttons on your shirt. Good night, huh, Fox?"

Deliberately ignoring her childish comment, Mulder forced

himself to keep as

calm as he could. "I knew it." I knew there was something the

matter with

her, something not quite right. Scully saw it much clearer than I

did.

Scully...

"What did you say?" She took a step closer, menacing.

"I said I knew it." Must keep calm.

"Knew what? You don't know anything, darling." Her last word

was said with

such scorn that Mulder almost felt it as a physical blow. He could

still

remember them calling each other "darling," although he had done

his best to

forget all things associated with her. He had no idea that she had

held his

affection in such contempt.

He took a deep breath. "I suspected from the moment you

turned up again that

you were working for Them. After our cozy little chat last night, I

was

almost sure of it. Now I know for certain." Well, she hadn't shot

him for

that. It was a start.

She laughed, low and dangerous. "Oh no, honey, you've got it

all wrong."

"How have I got it wrong, Diana?" Keep cool, don't loose it now.

She regarded him with an unwavering stare. "I haven't 'started'

working for

them, Fox. I was working for them all along. Right from the start."

Mulder let his eyes slide shut for a second. All along. Even on

their

wedding day. Even when... He snapped his eyes open. The smirk

on her face

told him that she knew exactly what he was thinking. But he

couldn't dwell on

that now. If he made it out of this alive, there would be plenty of

time to

think it over. He could only think of one thing to ask. "Why?"

"Why what? Why did I join them? Because They asked me

to. You wouldn't

believe what they pay! Or maybe you meant 'why did I start on the

X-Files

with you?' Because They asked me to. I guess they were kind of

interesting.

Some of them. But They knew you would go ahead with the files

even if I

didn't join you, so I did."

"But you nearly always agreed with my theories." Oh, this was

getting

confusing.

"Nearly. The ones I didn't agree with you on were the ones that

mattered,

the ones that would have led you to the truth."

That hurt. She was enjoying this far too much. Time to try a

different

angle. "So why did you leave?"

Judging from her expression, she had actually wanted him to

ask that

question. So much for talking her down. "The distress factor. The

general

theory at the time was that you would be too distraught to carry on

if I left.

Of course, it would seem that we greatly underestimated your

determination.

We thought we would leave you alone for a while. Then, your

precious Dana was

sent in."

"By Them?" No, he wouldn't believe that. He couldn't.

"Indirectly. But it didn't work, did it?"

"And that's why you came back, isn't it? To split us up, to

come between us.

Well let me tell you something, darling," he spat the word out.

"Nothing has

come between me and Scully in the six years we have been

working together.

Nothing. Even if one of us were dead, I believe we would stay

together

somehow." That sounded silly. Way to go, Mulder, he told

himself. You just

make the mad woman with the gun as angry as you can, and we'll

take it from

there.

"Nothing has come between you? We weren't the only ones

having a cozy chat

last night, if I recall."

Spender. Scully... "Spender? Is he in on this?"

No answer, just another sickly smile. Oh God...well, at least

he didn't do

anything to Scully last night. Mulder could only hope that he could

escape

with enough time to warn Scully. Without Spender in the picture,

there was no

longer anything to keep them apart. Except the gun that

threatened to perform

a very crude lobotomy if he shifted more than a millimeter. If you

are going

to get any brilliant ideas, Mulder, now is probably a good time, his

mind told

him.

Slowly, carefully, Mulder started running his fingers along the

wall behind

him, hoping that maybe there was a loose plank that he could pry

away from the

main structure to use as some kind of weapon.

"Oh, no, I don't think you want to be doing that, sweetheart,"

she chided

him. "Now, is there anything else you want to know?"

Last resort, may as well try it. "I have a last request."

"Oh? Go on." Her finger remained tight on the trigger.

Deep breath. "Don't hurt Scully. Let her live her life."

She was silent for a moment, as if considering his proposal.

"I'll think

about it. Meanwhile..." As her trigger-finger tightened even more,

a shot

rang out. Mulder squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the impact,

but it never

came. Realising that he wasn't dead, he opened his eyes to see a

bloodstained

Diana writhing on the dusty concrete floor. Glancing to his right,

he saw the

most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Scully, his guardian angel,

staring at

him, one hand held to her mouth, the other unsteadily holding her

service

weapon. No sooner had he met her eyes in a silent thanks,

however, than

another shot sounded, and his angel crumpled to the floor. With a

start, he

realised that he had known it was going to happen, although he

had no idea how

he knew. The whole scene was just too familiar, almost

dreamlike...

Without a moment's hesitation, he moved over to the unmoving

body of Diana.

He stared down at her, unfeeling, and kicked the pistol out of her

reach.

Taking his cell phone out of his inside pocket, he dialled 911 and

spoke

briefly to the operator. "Come on Dana, stay with me." He

muttered as he

crossed the floor to stay by the side of the only woman in the world

he knew

he could trust.

Margaret Scully walked briskly down the emergency room

corridor towards him, looking just about as frantic as he felt.

Mulder had

phoned her immediately, on the ambulance ride to the hospital.

God, he could

see so much of Scully in her mother's eyes. Coming to a stop

before him, she

grasped his hand. It was almost more contact than he could bear

at the

moment.

"How is she?" she asked, her eyes searching his. "You

sounded so worried on

the phone."

His voice was so shaky he barely recognized it. "The doctors

are in with her

now. They--they won't let me see her. I'm not family."

His voice broke pathetically on that last word, catching her

attention. "Is

there something you're not telling me, Mr. Mulder? She is going to

be OK,

isn't she?"

He didn't correct her use of his name...Scully had always been

the one to do

that, anyway. "She was shot trying to protect me from my ex-wife."

"But I thought--I thought you and Dana--"

He almost smiled for the first time since this horrible morning

started. He

knew Scully hadn't yet had time to tell her mother about them.

Margaret was

just suspecting the same thing everyone else had. The one thing it

had taken

Dana and him so damned long to figure out themselves.

"We are," he said softly. *And thanks to my own stupidity, I

might just lose

it all.*

"Oh, Fox--" She didn't even finish what she was about to say.

She just

pulled him into her embrace, not in the least surprised when he

damned near

crumpled against her. She seemed to draw her own strength out of

his

weakness, having had far too many years experience worrying

about her

daughter. "She'll be all right. If she can beat cancer, she can beat

this.

And if you think she's going to give up before the two of you can be

together,

you don't know her as well as I thought you did."

End Part 4

------------------------------------------------------------------------

WILL YOU STILL LOVE ME? (5/5)

by Diadem and Isahunter

(Disclaimer and other info in part one--NC17!)

Mulder sat alone in the empty waiting room, chewing nervously

on his lower

lip. Mrs. Scully had gone in to see her daughter what seemed like

hours ago,

having said she would convince the doctor to let him see his

partner as soon

as she was finished. She hadn't come back since.

Sitting by himself was dangerous. He had entirely too much

time on his hands

to think. He'd seen Scully in danger before. He had dreams of her

being

shot, so often that it was becoming second nature to push the

awful images out

of his mind. But even his dreams hadn't prepared him for watching

her crumple

to the ground like wet grass under someone's shoe. He swallowed

heavily. His

hands shook, even as he pressed them to his knees. Dreams

were one thing, but

watching the reality was far different. God, he didn't know what he

would

have done if Scully had died in that warehouse.

*You could have prevented it* the voice in his mind told him.

He'd known

what was going to happen, even if he'd only recognized it on

hindsight. If he

lost her because of his own foolishness--

Just as the thought drifted through his head, the petite figure of

Dana's

mother hurried through the door.

"She's tired, but she wants to see you."

"How is she?"

Margaret put a steadying hand on his shoulder as he hastily

stood. "She's

doing much better than you'd think."

He was amazed when his legs didn't give out from under him.

Having the

strength to follow her into that sanitary and medicinal-smelling

room was a

feat in itself. Yet actually casting his gaze on Dana's face was

enough to

bring stinging moisture to his eyes.

There she lay on the standard issue emergency room bed, her

eyes closed, a

bandage covering the bullet wound in her shoulder. She was weak

and pale,

having lost a lot of blood before the medics arrived. But she was

alive--wonderfully, blessedly alive.

She looked so beautiful, even with dark smudges under her

eyes, even with

mussed hair and wearing a hospital gown to make up for the

clothes they'd cut

from her body. And it suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't said

"I love

you" at all during the night they shared together. Not once. He'd

told her

before, of course, after that little fiasco in the Bermuda Triangle--but

did

that even count? Probably not. She'd thought he was drugged,

delirious. And

the few times he'd dared to show his affection for her during her

cancer

scare, she'd thought he was just being a supportive friend. Nothing

could

have been further from the truth. He was just as scared then as

now.

"Go ahead," Mrs. Scully said, behind him, urging him forward.

He stepped forward and grasped Dana's hand, surprised when

she squeezed right

back. His gaze swept up to her face, to see her watching him

wearily with

half-closed eyes. She smiled softly when he blinked the tears out

of his

eyes. He was about to lean over and kiss her on the forehead--as

he always

did when he worried about her--when he realized that he didn't have

to hide his feelings anymore.

He kissed her mouth instead.

Dana's startled gaze shifted to the curtained partition, where

her mother

stood, smiling, behind him.

"It's all right, she knows," he murmured. "She's known longer

than we have."

Margaret didn't say a word, but the little smirk on her face

made her

daughter blush. "I talked to the doctor. He told me you could go

home

sometime tomorrow."

Dana quelled Fox's worried look before he had time to speak.

"They just want

to keep me for observation."

"Does it hurt?" he asked, pained at the very thought.

"A little. It hurt a lot worse when they debrided and irrigated it."

"Well, at least we have matching wounds now." He grimaced

at his own bad

joke. His healed bullet wound had been her doing years ago, but

at least

she'd been justified in her actions. He was just an unthinking idiot.

"Stitches?"

She nodded, her lips curving. "And I'll have to keep the sling on

for a

while. But the doctor said the X-rays were clean and I can go

home with some

antibiotics."

"You'll go home with me." He couldn't ever remember his voice

being so

rough. "It was my fault you got into this. The least I can do is take

care

of you."

He hadn't noticed Mrs. Scully leaving the room, but suddenly

he was alone

with Dana and he was wholly grateful. Sitting on the edge of the

bed, he held

her tiny hand between his own. Her fingers fluttered like butterfly

wings

before curling around his palm.

"Can you ever forgive me for letting this happen to you?"

"There's nothing to forgive. If she hadn't shot me, she would've

shot you.

She might have killed you. I'm just happy I thought to follow you

this

morning."

"You suspected Diana before I ever did--and I'm the one who

had more cause to

distrust her."

"Mulder--"

"Fox," he corrected, gently.

"Fox...I don't think you wanted to believe she would hurt you

more than she

already had." Licking her lips, she tightened her grip on his hand.

"Where

is Diana? Did she--"

"She's still in the operating room. Has been for hours."

"Any word?"

"I didn't bother to ask."

She had the grace to say nothing. He leaned forward, careful

to avoid

jarring her arm, and rested his forehead against hers. She didn't

speak,

merely curled her good hand around the nape of his neck, content

just to be

silent for the moment. She took a shuddering breath and brushed

her lips over

his brow before returning her forehead to his once more.

"I meant to say thank you for saving my life."

"Well, after Antarctica, you can consider us even."

He couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out of his lips, but it

wasn't

long before he sobered once more.

"It isn't over, is it?"

"Is it ever?" He shook his head. "As soon as you're on your

feet again,

we're going to find out just how much Agent Spender knew about

his partner's

activities."

"All right."

"There's more."

"More?"

"Something you need to know, before another minute goes by."

"And what is that?"

"I love you. Whether I'm drugged, delirious, or stone-cold

sober...in my

darkest hour, and at my all time high. I love you more than I've ever

loved

anyone in my life."

He was taken aback by her smug grin. "I know."

"You know?"

"I believed you the first time you said it, even if I didn't let you

know it.

I didn't want to believe it, but I had to...I had to believe I wasn't the

only one."

He shook his head. "You know, you could've said something

earlier."

"And miss hearing you say it again?" She kissed him quickly

on the lips.

"Not a chance."

END.

*****************************************************************

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