X-Files fic: A Helping Hand 2/2
Apr. 17th, 2005 05:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ghost2TITLE: A Helping Hand 2/2
This part is rated NC-17.
The first part is here.
Three days later, Scully checked to make sure that Mulder was across the office and absorbed in a file before she logged on to her computer, where she tapped in "ILoveFox" as her password and headed straight to the Lonelyhearts site. After she gave her user name and access code, she clicked on the mail icon.
Her box contained three matches: Metsfan, Unlucky, and Truth_Seeker. She searched for Metsfan's profile. Unfortunately, he lived in Philadelphia. She had endured an extremely unpleasant experience in that city just a few years ago. Unlucky was a
smoker. That left Truth_Seeker. She liked the name; it reminded her of Mulder. So did his profile. She left a message in Truth_Seeker's box, expressing her interest in meeting him, and signed off.
Having made a move to get on with her life, she felt a little
better. She addressed Mulder: "I have to go to the lab. I'll be
back in about half an hour."
*********
As soon as she left the office, Mulder booted up his computer and entered his password: ILoveDana. At the Lonelyhearts site, he found a message in his box from "DrRed." She wanted to meet him. He checked out her profile. Hmmm. A doctor. That was good. All in all, she sounded a lot like Scully. He decided to respond.
*********
After a few swift messages back and forth, the date between
DrRed and Truth_Seeker was set for Friday night at 7 in the
Brocade Curtain, a posh new restaurant located in the bowels of
Washington, D.C. They were both to give the name of "Grey," and
meet each other for the first time at their table.
On the morning of the date, though, Scully suffered serious concerns. What if it didn't work out? What if he was a total loser? She was taking a huge chance.
Her nerves must have shown on her face and in her actions; Mulder twice asked if she was all right. She absently answered him and continued to brood.
She wished more than anything that her date was with Mulder. But
she had long ago accepted the fact that she wasn't his type. No,
he liked leggy, well-endowed brunettes, like Diana and Bambi
Berenbaum. She could never measure up to them.
Mulder took a swallow of coffee and made a face. "This stuff tastes like mud. Who made it, anyway?"
"You did," Scully reminded him.
"Oh." He set down the mug with a thunk. "Look, Scully, I need to
know. Is anything wrong?"
It was the third time he had asked that question, and she felt something inside herself snap. "Mulder, I'm fine!" she snarled.
He jumped to his feet. "What is it, Scully? Are you sick? Did the doctor give you bad news?"
The sight of his panic face made her instantly regret her ill-chosen words. "No, Mulder, I'm sorry I said I was fine," she apologized. "I wasn't thinking. I'm okay. There's nothing physically wrong with me. I'm just having a bad day." She needed
to erase the word "fine" from her vocabulary, she decided, or its usage would result in similar unfortunate misunderstandings in the future.
Just before lunchtime, Mulder excused himself from the office.
Scully waited for him to return, hoping to make peace by offering
to go to lunch with him, but 30 minutes ticked by with no sign of
Mulder. She gave up and ate a meal of plain yogurt and tofu at
her desk, all the while wondering where her workaholic partner
could be.
An hour after she finished eating, he wasn't back. She didn't think he had gone to meet anyone; he hadn't displayed any of the usual signs. He'd even left his cell phone on his desk. She wracked her brain, trying to figure out where he might be. Then
it hit her. Their bench by the reflecting pool! Why hadn't she thought of it sooner? She hurried out of the office to find him.
*********
Mulder sat on the familiar bench, staring over the rolling
waters. Dozens of shells decorated the ground at his feet. He
didn't know what he'd do when he finished his 5.75-ounce bag of
David sunflower seeds. He didn't want to move, let alone return
to the office. If he did, he'd have to face Scully.
She had been very pensive lately. He could trace the genesis of her unusual behavior to the night he'd read her journal. Still, he'd pissed her off before, and she'd never remained so withdrawn for so long. There had to be more behind her attitude than his
behavior. Perhaps the man she had written about in her journal had broken her heart. He no longer thought it was Skinner. He'd been watching like a hawk, and Scully just didn't act "that way" around their boss.
No, whoever or whatever was troubling Scully remained a mystery.
He gave up on trying to solve it, and instead concentrated on his
own problems. He hadn't been having one of the better months of
his life. The Lonelyhearts date would probably be a disaster. It
wouldn't be fair to treat the woman like a surrogate Scully. It
wouldn't be fair to stand her up, either. He didn't know what to
do.
He heard light footfalls stop beside him. "Is this seat taken?"
a soft voice asked.
Without turning his head, he replied, "No, but I should warn you that I'm exhibiting self-flagellating tendencies."
Instead of replying "I'll take my chances" as he expected, Scully quipped, "Sure, fine, whatever," and sank onto the bench at his side. "You ditched me again," she said conversationally.
He swung toward her. "I did? When?"
"You left the office with no explanation, didn't come back for hours, didn't call me, forced me to track you down with no leads. That qualifies as a ditch."
"Yeah, but this time, you didn't have to save my ass," he pointed out.
The tension eased, they sat in companionable silence for some
time. Mulder finished his seeds and tossed the empty bag in the
trash receptacle five feet away. Scully crossed her legs and
settled back.
When the quiet grew oppressive, Mulder felt compelled to speak. What came out of his mouth was, "Why do you stay with me, Scully?"
"Why?" she repeated. "I've told you before. I value the work we do. It's important."
"But you could do important work somewhere else, too."
"I like it here. I also value our friendship."
He placed his hand over Scully's in thanks. To his relief, she didn't move hers away. He was forgiven. A lump rose in his throat, threatening to choke him. He would never want to lose Scully's friendship. If he'd been foolish enough to admit his
true feelings, it would have been withdrawn immediately. He should accept reality and try to move on with his life. The blind date tonight would be his start.
*********
On the stroke of 7, Scully marched into the Brocade Curtain with
her head high. She gave the name of "Grey" at the front desk; the
waiter, Jacques, led her toward a corner table.
Her date was sitting with his back to her. Even from that angle, he looked startlingly like Mulder. Why did she have to picture him in every man she met?
She rounded the table and saw his face. Oh! That explained it. It *was* him!
"Mulder!" she cried in shock as he gasped "Scully!" in an identical tone.
Nervelessly, she fell into the chair the waiter pulled out for her before he departed.
"How...what...." Mulder said.
"I don't understand...." Scully began.
The waiter interrupted the non-conversation as he returned to their table with a bottle of Dom Perignon.
They simultaneously regained their voices and chorused, "But we didn't order champagne."
The man nodded. "I know. It was arranged in advance. Courtesy of Walter." He poured them each a glass and retreated.
A long, uneasy silence ensued.
Mulder took a large sip of champagne and nearly choked on it.
Scully stared at the floor, feeling as out of place as a Democrat in a roomful of Republicans.
Then Mulder threw down his napkin. "Let's get out of here."
Despair formed in the pit of Scully's stomach. Mulder couldn't
have made it much more obvious that he didn't want to be around
her. No doubt he had been hoping for a different date entirely.
Not plain old Dana Scully, whom he saw almost every day in the
office. Miserably, she preceded him out of the restaurant and
toward her car.
"Scully?" he called.
She turned.
Mulder stood beside his vehicle. "I thought we would take my car?"
"Take your car where?"
"Somewhere you'll like." He formed his best injured puppy-dog face: the one that reminded her of a golden retriever.
So, Mulder didn't want to get rid of her. She smiled and walked back to him.
Fifteen minutes later, Mulder pulled into the parking lot of a small, run-down diner that boasted a purple neon sign reading "Al's All U Want." He cut off the engine and turned to Scully. "I thought we'd feel more comfortable here because we always eat
at this kind of place when we're on the road."
Scully nodded. As she got out of the car, she stumbled over a pothole, and just managed to regain her balance. Good thing she hadn't worn the 6" heels tonight.
Mulder was almost instantly at her side, looking at her in concern as he grabbed her arm. "Are you all right?"
"Sure," she replied.
She was rewarded with the brilliant smile Mulder reserved for her. "As long as you have your sea legs now."
She laughed to indicate her understanding of the inside joke, and was heartened when Mulder kept hold of her arm as they entered the building.
*********
The interior of the diner achieved the dubious distinction of looking even cheaper than the exterior had. From the cracked, dingy linoleum floor to the faded wallpaper, it was in desperate need of an overhaul. Only the incongruous sight of a glistening,
state-of-the-art jukebox made a positive impression.
In such an atmosphere, they were wildly overdressed. Mulder didn't care. He steered Scully to a reasonably clean-looking booth in a deserted corner of the room, where they slid in on opposite sides.
The waitress, a middle-aged blonde with a weathered face and large, plastic hoop earrings, sauntered over and handed them two menus. She braced her hip against their table and doodled on her pad as she waited for them to order.
Mulder waved expansively. "Have whatever you want, Scully."
She searched the menu with the air of one who expected to find a particular item. "Coffee and garden salad with French dressing, please."
Mulder snorted in disbelief. "Scully, I said *anything*, my treat. You don't have to get that rabbit food."
"You said to order what I want," she pertly replied. "I did."
"Okay, have it your way," he relented. "I'll take the hamburger special with French fries and a large Coke."
It was Scully's turn to scoff. "Do you know what that stuff will do to your arteries, Mulder?"
"At least it has some taste to it!"
The familiar banter lasted throughout the meal, and temporarily
succeeded in making the two forget that they were on their first
date. But when they pushed away their empty plates, the
conversation died, and they had trouble meeting each other's
eyes.
'It shouldn't be this difficult,' thought Mulder. 'We've been working together for seven years.'
'Why is everything so awkward?' thought Scully. 'We know each other so well. Maybe we aren't meant to be, after all.'
Mulder saw Scully glance at her watch, and felt panic claw at his belly. The start of the date had been ridiculously inept, the drive to the diner nerve-wracking, but if they left now, he had the feeling he would never get another chance.
"Dance with me," he blurted.
Scully's eyes widened. Mulder mentally kicked himself and
attempted to lay on some charm. "Just once?" he pleaded, getting
up. He didn't think she would refuse to move while he stood like
an idiot.
She didn't. She placed her hand in his and rose, and they walked to the cleared area near the jukebox. Like it had been predestined, a new song started to play as they set foot in the space. Mulder recognized REO Speedwagon, with "Can't Fight This Feeling." Yes, it definitely was fate. He took Scully in his arms and swayed to the music.
I can't fight this feeling any longer
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow
What started out as friendship has grown stronger
I only wish I had the strength to let it show
I tell myself that I can't hold out forever
I say there is no reason for my fear
Cause I feel so secure when we're together
You give my life direction
You make everything so clear
As he listened to the lyrics, they magically gave him the courage to unlock his heart, to express the emotions within. "Scully." He stopped. That didn't sound right. It was a "Dana" moment, not a "Scully" one. He tried again. "Dana, I have something to tell
you."
She gazed up at him with her beautiful, Windex-blue eyes. In that
moment, he felt like he saw straight through to her soul, where
her feelings mirrored his own. His next words flowed out like a
rush of lava down a mountainside. "I love you, Dana Katherine
Scully. You're my one in five billion."
Her steps faltered. "Mulder, I--"
He tightened his grip around her waist. "No, please call me Fox. That is, if you don't mind," he added shyly.
"I thought you hated your name?"
Reading Dana's mind, he knew that she was remembering a day when she had called him by his first name and he had practically laughed in her face. "Dana, I said that to maintain a distance between us. I had to keep up that wall any way I could. But now
it's different. Now, I'd like to hear you say my true name."
"All right...Fox." She tested out his name. And while he had never liked it before, it sounded perfect coming from her lips.
He didn't realize he'd spoken those words until Dana whispered, "I love you, too, Fox William Mulder. You complete me."
He hesitated. A niggling doubt kept him from accepting Dana's words at face value. "I want to believe. You don't know how much I want to believe. But in your journal, you wrote about a man you were in love with. I didn't find his name before you caught me."
"Oh, silly, I was writing about *you*! Who else could it possibly have been?"
"I thought it was Skinner," he confessed, "until I watched you around him and realized he's strictly an authority figure to you."
"Speaking of Skinner, he obviously played a part in our blind date. We'll have to thank him. But not tonight. Tonight, I have other plans for you." Dana gave him a speaking look.
They danced in a daze, until a teenager with a fresh scar on his forehead switched the jukebox to Eminem's "Drug Ballad."
Fox dropped his arms away from Dana. "Well, uh, do you want to go to my place?"
"I think mine would be more comfortable, don't you?"
When Dana spoke in that suggestive tone, he would deny her
nothing. At their booth, Fox found a check for $9.58. He dropped
a $10 bill on the table and positioned a palm on the small of
Dana's back to guide her out of the diner. In the reflection in
the window, he saw the waitress mouthing insults at them, but
nothing could shake his mood. He and Dana were finally together.
*****
They held hands during the drive home, except when Fox needed to use the turn signal. But as soon as he flicked the switch, he returned his free hand to the comfort of Dana's.
When they entered her apartment, however, Dana sat on the far end of the couch, tucked her legs tucked up under her, and drew an embroidered throw pillow into her lap. Fox approached her, but she pointed to the opposite end of the sofa. He hesitated, then
obediently seated himself at a distance.
"We need to talk." Dana picked at the fringe of the pillow, not sure how to best broach the topic.
Fox inched closer. "What is it, Dana?"
The warm glow from his hazel eyes encouraged her. "Well, there's the matter of children. Specifically, the fact that I can't have any."
"We can consult another doctor. We can go to fertility specialists. We can adopt," Fox rattled off.
"You'd do that for me, Fox?"
"I'd do anything for you, Dana," he vowed, and stretched forward to kiss her on the forehead.
"Do you want children?" Dana asked. "From what you've told me, while you were growing up your own home life wasn't the greatest."
Fox nodded. "Yeah, you're right. It's about time you knew. After Sam was gone, my father took out his frustrations on me. He drank a lot and hit me sometimes."
"I guessed as much," Dana admitted. "You've hinted at it before. What about your mother? What did she do when your father abused you?"
"She was drugged out of her mind half the time. I think it helped her forget. She did try to protect me in the beginning, but my father hit her, too. She quit trying pretty soon."
Dana patted his hand in silent commiseration.
Fox drew in a shuddering breath. "Speaking of families, what about yours? How will they react to the news about us?"
"Don't worry. I know my father would have approved of you. And my mom already loves you."
Fox looked down. "Bill doesn't."
"Bill's an asshole. Don't give him a second thought. I won't let him live my life for me."
"I don't want you to ruin your relationship with him on my account," Fox worried.
Dana took his face between her hands. "Fox William Mulder, you are the number-one most important person in my life, and don't you ever forget it. I'm sorry if my insecurities caused you to doubt yourself. You should never do that. As for Bill, if he has a problem with us, he can go to hell."
"Dana, are you absolutely sure? God knows you can do a whole lot better than a moody, self-absorbed, pathetic, guilt-ridden idiot like me. There isn't a man who knows you who isn't in love with you. You can have your pick."
"So can you, Fox. I've seen the way the other women agents look at you, especially when you're in the swimming pool."
"Really?" He waggled his eyebrows and pouted playfully.
"Like you've never noticed," Dana teased.
"They might have looked, but I never looked back," Fox said. "The only woman I've wanted is you."
"It was worth the wait to hear those words. Just make sure it's not seven more years before I hear them."
Fox fixed his gaze on a point on the wall and spoke in a rush. "You might not feel that way once you hear some more facts. My romantic history is lousy. Phoebe was my first real girlfriend. She did quite a number on my head. It took me years to get over
it. Then Diana came along. At first, she acted like she truly loved me. We even eloped, but the marriage didn't last long. The minute she got the chance for a promotion, she jumped at it and left me. That's why I was so gun-shy when I met you. I've never been good at relationships. I'm terrified that I'll mess this one
up, too."
Her withdrawal had caused Fox to become assailed with doubts.
Dana had to perform damage control. She spoke soothingly. "I
sensed that you had been married to Diana. I wish you'd felt
comfortable enough to tell me before, but it's all in the past.
I'm more sure that we're meant to be together than I've ever been
about anything else in my life. As far as I'm concerned, there's
only one issue left: Can we juggle our personal lives with our
professional ones? I don't want our work to suffer because of
this change in our relationship. We can't stop now. If we do,
They win. And the truth is still out there."
Her strategy worked; confidence and vigor returned to Fox's voice. "Dana, we can maintain that balance. Work is work, and our private life is our private life."
"I'm glad you said that, because I think we can handle it, too."
Fox grinned. "This probably isn't the best time to tell you that my number-one fantasy is of us doing it on the desk at work."
Dana chuckled. "It's mine, too!"
"That would be unprofessional, wouldn't it?" Fox observed. "Blurring the line between work and home."
"Not if we locked the door first," Dana suggested. "But I think we can restrain ourselves until we're off the clock. You just have to swear one thing to me. The next time you're in the hospital, you can't disconnect the medical equipment and try to
escape every five minutes."
Fox looked thoughtful. "Only if you promise to privately consult with me whenever I want."
Dana smiled. "That's a given."
"Oh, no, I just thought of another problem," Fox said in a dire tone.
Dana gasped. "What? Tell me!"
Fox paused dramatically, then announced, "It's Frohike. We have to find a gentle way of letting him know that the enigmatic Agent Scully is off the market."
Dana lightly punched him in the arm. "You scared me for a minute there! As for Frohike, he'll probably recover if you give him those videos that aren't yours as a consolation prize. I can't compare to the women in them anyway."
"No, Dana, you can't," Fox agreed. "You're the real thing, and far superior. I watched those videos because I couldn't have you. Now that we're together, I don't need them. They're all Frohike's."
Dana reconsidered. "Maybe not all. We could keep one or two. Speaking of which, why don't we move this show into the bedroom?"
*********
Fox blinked, unable to believe that he had heard correctly. Had Dana Katherine Scully, the love of his life, invited him into her bedroom? Judging from the sultry look on her face, yes. She turned and glided away; willingly, he trailed her.
Inside her room, she turned on only the bedside lamp.
He stood staring dumbly at her.
Dana looked him over. "Aren't you a little overdressed, Fox?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah!" He hadn't been so nervous since he was 15 and he dissolved sleeping pills into his dad's beer to see if they would work. He slowly stripped, Dana watching all the while. As he pulled down his pants, she burst into helpless laughter.
"What? What is it?" Fox asked in confusion.
Between chortles, she choked out, "Your boxers."
Fox glanced down. He wore the Marvin the Martian pair. "Why couldn't I have picked the black silk ones today of all days? Even the UFOs would have been better than this."
"You have UFO boxers?" Dana promptly succumbed to another fit of the giggles.
Fox grinned sheepishly. "Would you believe they were a gag gift from Langly?"
Dana managed to quell her hilarity. "Why don't you just keep going?"
"I hope you don't start laughing again," Fox muttered as he yanked off his boxers and flung them into the far corner.
Dana sucked in a breath. "Oh, Fox, you're so...so...big," she said in an awestruck tone.
She wasn't giggling anymore, he noted with satisfaction.
"In fact, G-man, you're the biggest I've ever seen," she continued.
Fox swelled with pride. "Okay, G-woman. Fair's fair. I've shown you mine; now you have to show me yours."
Her ivory cheeks took on a faint hue as she stripped down to her underwear. Dana had come better prepared than he had. She wore amethyst silk panties.
She put her hands on the convenient front-fastening bra, but Fox covered them with his own. "Please, allow me." He enjoyed the luxury of slowly urging off Dana's bra to reveal the milky globes of her breasts. He drank in the glorious sight, then knelt
to remove her panties. She stepped out of them, and he remained staring at the patch of hair between her thighs.
"Fox? What is it?" she asked in a small voice.
He hurried to reassure her. "Why do I have to be colorblind? I've
wondered for the longest time if you were a natural redhead. I
still do."
Dana smiled. "You'll have to take my word for it: I am."
She lay back on the bed, but he scanned the room around them.
"What are you doing?"
Finished, Fox turned back to Dana. "Checking for bees. I don't want to be interrupted this time."
He wasn't the only one who didn't want to be interrupted. "Come here, Fox," Dana ordered. She pulled him down on top of her, and he examined her body with the focus of a scientist looking through a microscope. He paused at her scar and traced its
length with his index finger. With only that touch, he was saying that he would always remember the day she was almost taken from him.
She smoothed his hair back from his brow. With only that touch, she was saying that she would be with him for a long time to come.
He moved lower, closer to the center of her burning need, and Dana pressed her legs together. "Fox, you don't have to do that."
He tilted his head up at her. "Why not? Don't you want me to?"
"It's not that, exactly." She struggled for words. "It...I don't...I've always been kind of...repressed. It's probably got something to do with that Catholic guilt you hear about."
Fox rested his head on her abdomen. "No, you aren't repressed. You just didn't find the right man until me. Let me prove it to you. Please?"
He looked so much like a begging spaniel, she couldn't bring herself to say no. He took her slight nod as assent and set to work.
She knew she was embarrassingly wet for him before he gently probed her moist core with one finger, followed by a second. His talented tongue soon joined in the action, darting in and out, dancing across her clit.
Dana dug her nails into her new percale sheets, vaguely thinking that she'd find two hands' worth of crescent-shaped tears in them when she regained consciousness.
With one last nibble and suck, Fox pushed her into the abyss.
The next thing Dana knew, Fox was running a damp washcloth over her face and murmuring her name in an endearingly anxious tone. She forced open her eyes to see his beloved features swim into focus.
"I must have blacked out for a minute there," she realized.
"More like two or three," Fox corrected. "You had me scared. I suppose I don't have to ask if it was good for you, though."
"I knew that oral fixation of yours would come in handy someday. Lucky me. I'll never complain about those sunflower seeds again."
Fox lay beside Dana, listening to her breathing ease into a steady rhythm. Nothing could make him happier.
"You don't look very comfortable, Fox. Why don't we take care of that situation for you?"
He'd been wrong: There *was* something that could make him happier. But he didn't want to rush Dana. "Are you sure? Is it too soon for you?"
"My recuperative powers might shock you."
"Better that *mine* shock *you*," said Fox.
He positioned himself over Dana and sank to the hilt, as if being engulfed in quicksand, until he was immersed in her core. It felt like he had always belonged there, like he had come home after a long journey.
Below him, she tensed.
He stilled. "Dana? What's wrong?" Should he pull out? Should he let her be on top? He was so huge and she was so tiny. He had to be hurting her.
Dana bit her lower lip. "Nothing's wrong, Fox."
"You feel so tight," he objected, "like a glove that's two sizes too small."
"It's been a long time for me. A very, very long time. Since before I met you."
His jaw dropped. "But I thought...Ed Jerse...."
"Nothing happened with him. I stopped it before it went too far."
In the back of Fox's mind, he had harbored the secret hope that
that slim possibility was true, but he'd never dared believe it.
The joy he felt nearly overwhelmed him, and prompted him to
reveal his own secret. "Dana, I have another confession to make.
Don't worry, this is a good one. It's been a long time for me,
too."
"Then we can get used to it together. You can start moving. Go slowly at first," she cautioned.
He began to thrust deeply and steadily, and Dana counterpumped. After fewer than a dozen strokes, they simultaneously exploded, shouting each other's names. Fox heaved himself off of Dana, and they lay panting and quivering in the aftershocks of
their private earthquake.
Dana recovered first. "That's never happened to me before. Ever. You must have found my G-spot right away."
Fox's muscles gelled enough for him to reply. "I've never come that fast in my life. I swear I'll do better next time. Just give me another chance."
"No, I meant, *that's* never happened before."
"*That* what, Dana?"
"You know. *That.* The orgasm. I've never had one in that position before."
Fox shook his head. "And here I was, thinking you knew all sorts of doctor tricks. Those other men were fools."
"There weren't very many. My first wasn't until college. I was a science geek in high school. Melissa was the popular, outgoing one -- the rebel who got all the boys. No one noticed me when she was around."
"Like I said, they were fools. So, how long have you known?" he asked as he stroked her hair.
Their telepathic connection came in handy; Dana knew that Fox was asking when she'd realized she was in love with him. She nestled closer to him. "Since I shot you. What about you?"
"Since Duane Barry took you," he said immediately. "I was a mess without you around. Anyone will tell you that."
She was silent for long seconds.
"Dana, what are you thinking?"
"That we've wasted all this time."
"No, we spent those years deepening our relationship. It wouldn't be this good if we didn't have the past to draw upon."
Dana ruffled his hair. "Sometimes you are so much wiser than me."
A thought crossed Fox's mind. "We were pretty noisy. Do you think the neighbors heard?"
"If they did, it's nothing on my part they haven't heard before, only a little louder." She thought for a moment. "Okay, a lot louder."
"What do you mean, Dana? You said it's been a long time for you."
"It has. But I do have a vibrator. It's a girl's best friend. The neighbors have heard me call out your name before. Many times."
"How many?"
"Many. I'll leave it at that."
"I think I deserve a more precise answer," Fox insisted. As he leaned over to tickle Dana, his renewed erection poked her in the thigh.
"Fox, is that your gun, or are you happy to see me?"
"Want to go for a double-header?"
"Already, Fox?"
"Sure. Little Fox is up to another round."
Dana ran her fingers along his engorged member to confirm his words. It was true; his cock was rock-hard and throbbing. "It's amazing. Wait until the medical journals get hold of you."
"I'd rather save it for you, Dana."
Since she also preferred that option, that was what they did. Three more times, they awakened during the night to make love, and each experience was as good as the first had been. Maybe even better, as they grew more familiar with each other's body.
Eventually, satiated from passion, they fell into an exhausted slumber.
*********
For the first time in many weeks, Fox slept for four hours straight without waking from a nightmare. When he woke up, he was alone. He hadn't dreamed it all, had he? Then he realized he was in Dana's bed, surrounded by her scent. By *their* scent.
Still, he had to find her, to make sure she hadn't changed her mind about them. He scrambled out of bed, dug his extra clothes out of the emergency drawer Dana kept for him, dressed in record time, and rushed into the living room. He slid to a stop just in
time to avoid a collision with Dana, who held a glass of iced tea.
She grasped the glass with both hands to steady it. "Fox, why are
you running around?"
She'd called him by his first name; all was well. "No reason."
She looked sternly at him. "You shouldn't try to hide your
feelings from me. What upset you?"
"I was afraid that last night was another dream, and I was alone."
"It certainly wasn't, and you definitely won't be ever again." She pressed a kiss to his cheek and set the glass on the coffee table, on top of a "Journal of the American Medical Association" issue. "There's your iced tea, baby doll--" She cut herself off
and flushed. "I'm sorry, you probably don't want to be called that."
"Hey, I kind of like having a pet name," he informed her.
She smiled. "I'm so glad you like it. You'll be hearing it a lot more in the future."
"I'll have to come up with a nickname for you, too, then," Fox observed. "What about 'angel'? That's what you are to me."
"Oh, how sweet." She apparently thought it was sweet enough to
warrant another kiss. That kiss swiftly turned into two, and
three, and more. Fox's lips migrated downward, and Dana bent her
neck to allow him better access.
She jerked away when he sucked especially hard. "Fox, did you just give me a hickey?"
"I can't say for sure."
"If you did, that would mean I'll have to wear turtlenecks to the office for a whole week."
"No, Dana, that would mean you'd have to give me a hickey in return to pay me back. I won't mind at all, I promise."
"Down, boy!" Dana said firmly. "Give me a little break."
Fox took a step backward. "Was last night too...strenuous?"
"Let's just say that I used muscles I'd forgotten I have. I was going to take a hot bath after I gave you your iced tea. Do you have any plans for today?" Fox leered at her; she blushed. "Aside from that!"
He turned serious. "Well, we need to go back to the Brocade Curtain to pick up your car, and what's for breakfast?"
"Anything that requires less than five minutes of preparation, and no talent. It's time for another confession, Fox. I can't cook. That's why I always suggest getting takeout."
He shrugged. "That's okay. I can't cook, either."
"And that's why *you* always suggest getting takeout!" Dana realized. "We really *are* meant for each other! Although, if you had any lingering fears that it wouldn't work out, last night should have put them to rest. It was the most incredible experience of my life. It's never happened to me five times in one night. And we came together every time, too!"
"More proof that we belong together," Fox acknowledged. "But I need to make sure that we're on the same page. Where do you want our relationship to go?"
"We shouldn't let any more time slip away. We can spend the weekends at each other's place. One day, I'd like to move in together."
Fox grinned so widely, he felt like a coat hanger was stretching his mouth. "I love the idea. When it's safe to go public, we can buy our own place. Wouldn't a house be great?"
"Terrific, but can we afford it?"
Fox took a deep breath and plunged in. "Yes. See, I have all this trust-fund money, and--"
"Trust fund?" Dana interrupted. "You have a trust fund?"
"You'd be surprised at the amount I inherited when my father died. The rest came from my mother's estate. It didn't seem important at the time. But now I'm glad I have it, for your sake. We'll never have to worry about money."
"That's great, Fox."
Fox sighed in relief. He had been afraid that Dana would be angry with him for keeping the truth about his financial status to himself for so long. "Someday we'll get a dog, and name it Boomer or Daggoo," he said.
"After 'Moby Dick' characters. You remembered, Fox!" Dana exclaimed.
"I never forget anything about you, Starbuck."
"Except my birthday," Dana pointed out.
"If we get married on February 23 and it's also our anniversary, I'll never forget it," he promised.
"Fox!" Dana exclaimed. "Was that a proposal?"
"This isn't quite how I imagined making it all those hundreds of times. But...." Fox knelt before Dana. "Will you do me the honor of becoming 'Mrs. Spooky' for real?"
Tears sprang into Dana's eyes. "Of course I will, Fox."
The insistent ringing of the doorbell postponed their celebration. Dana jumped up to answer it. "I'll get rid of whoever it is," she said as she pulled open the door. "Oh, Mom!" She hugged her unexpected visitor.
Fox politely stood as Maggie entered the living room. She looked from Dana to him and back. "Well, Dana, I have to say, I'm surprised. Lately, you've sounded so depressed, and today you look so happy. Does your change in attitude have anything to do with Fox's presence? What happened?"
"Assistant Director Walter Skinner," Dana replied. "He set us up last night. He's our very own cupid!"
Maggie threw her arms around Fox and squeezed him so tightly that he gasped for air. "Welcome to the family, Fox. Now you have no excuse not to call me Mom!"
Right on cue, the bell chimed again. And when Dana opened the door, who should stand there but AD Skinner himself.
"Thank you, sir," Dana told him.
He smiled. "You can call me Walter outside of work. That goes for you, too, Mulder."
"In that case, we're Fox and Dana to you, Walter," Fox warmly replied.
Walter ignored him. He had just caught sight of Maggie, and couldn't seem to tear his eyes away. Nor could she stop staring at him.
Dana leaned her head against Fox's arm and whispered, "Looks like we're not the only ones in love."
Walter crossed the room and took Maggie's hands in his. "Should we tell them the news?" At her nod, he turned to face Fox and Dana. "Maggie and I have been working for weeks, trying to get you two to admit the truth. And along the way, a miracle
occurred: We fell in love!"
"We wanted you to be the first to know -- we're engaged!" Maggie announced.
"That's wonderful," said Dana, thrilled for her boss and friend,and her mother. "We're engaged, too."
Grinning broadly, Walter enveloped her in a bear hug. "Guess you'll be calling me 'Uncle Walter' soon." He then turned to Fox and vigorously pumped his hand. "That goes for you, too. But only off the job." He winked.
Fox winked back. It was good to know that he and Walter understood each other. All of those years of butting heads dissolved under the strength of their new bond.
"Wouldn't it be perfect if we could be June brides in a double wedding?" Maggie cried.
A shadow passed over Dana's face. "The FBI won't allow it. Regulation 1013, Clause X, prohibits romantic involvement between partners. If anyone found out that we were so much as dating, we'd be subject to disciplinary measures. We might even lose our
jobs. If we got married, the consequences would probably be the
worst possible."
Skinner shook his head. "Don't worry, kids. I'm working on getting an exemption granted that will enable you to continue working together on the X-Files no matter what. You can pay me back by naming your first son after me. Walter Sergei Scully-
Mulder has a very nice ring to it, don't you think?"
"Oh, no. Our first son is going to be called Fox, Jr." Dana shot Fox a look that dared him to disagree with her.
He gave in gracefully. "Then our first daughter should be named Melissa Dana, or Samantha Katherine. And Margaret is also a great name."
The joyous group traded names and dates as they planned their futures together. What would normally have been a solitary, dismal weekend for each of them had turned into a time of family, love, and togetherness that would never end.
end
My fingers cramped up in protest every time I typed Fox and Dana, but they've recovered now and I can answer feedback.
The challenge elements were:
--a dead fish
--Skinner dancing with Scully
--a Celine Dion song
--an online dating agency
--an old friend of Skinner's
--Star Trek: Voyager
--Mulder and Scully at a diner
ADDITIONAL DISCLAIMER: None of the songs belong to me, either.
This part is rated NC-17.
The first part is here.
Three days later, Scully checked to make sure that Mulder was across the office and absorbed in a file before she logged on to her computer, where she tapped in "ILoveFox" as her password and headed straight to the Lonelyhearts site. After she gave her user name and access code, she clicked on the mail icon.
Her box contained three matches: Metsfan, Unlucky, and Truth_Seeker. She searched for Metsfan's profile. Unfortunately, he lived in Philadelphia. She had endured an extremely unpleasant experience in that city just a few years ago. Unlucky was a
smoker. That left Truth_Seeker. She liked the name; it reminded her of Mulder. So did his profile. She left a message in Truth_Seeker's box, expressing her interest in meeting him, and signed off.
Having made a move to get on with her life, she felt a little
better. She addressed Mulder: "I have to go to the lab. I'll be
back in about half an hour."
*********
As soon as she left the office, Mulder booted up his computer and entered his password: ILoveDana. At the Lonelyhearts site, he found a message in his box from "DrRed." She wanted to meet him. He checked out her profile. Hmmm. A doctor. That was good. All in all, she sounded a lot like Scully. He decided to respond.
*********
After a few swift messages back and forth, the date between
DrRed and Truth_Seeker was set for Friday night at 7 in the
Brocade Curtain, a posh new restaurant located in the bowels of
Washington, D.C. They were both to give the name of "Grey," and
meet each other for the first time at their table.
On the morning of the date, though, Scully suffered serious concerns. What if it didn't work out? What if he was a total loser? She was taking a huge chance.
Her nerves must have shown on her face and in her actions; Mulder twice asked if she was all right. She absently answered him and continued to brood.
She wished more than anything that her date was with Mulder. But
she had long ago accepted the fact that she wasn't his type. No,
he liked leggy, well-endowed brunettes, like Diana and Bambi
Berenbaum. She could never measure up to them.
Mulder took a swallow of coffee and made a face. "This stuff tastes like mud. Who made it, anyway?"
"You did," Scully reminded him.
"Oh." He set down the mug with a thunk. "Look, Scully, I need to
know. Is anything wrong?"
It was the third time he had asked that question, and she felt something inside herself snap. "Mulder, I'm fine!" she snarled.
He jumped to his feet. "What is it, Scully? Are you sick? Did the doctor give you bad news?"
The sight of his panic face made her instantly regret her ill-chosen words. "No, Mulder, I'm sorry I said I was fine," she apologized. "I wasn't thinking. I'm okay. There's nothing physically wrong with me. I'm just having a bad day." She needed
to erase the word "fine" from her vocabulary, she decided, or its usage would result in similar unfortunate misunderstandings in the future.
Just before lunchtime, Mulder excused himself from the office.
Scully waited for him to return, hoping to make peace by offering
to go to lunch with him, but 30 minutes ticked by with no sign of
Mulder. She gave up and ate a meal of plain yogurt and tofu at
her desk, all the while wondering where her workaholic partner
could be.
An hour after she finished eating, he wasn't back. She didn't think he had gone to meet anyone; he hadn't displayed any of the usual signs. He'd even left his cell phone on his desk. She wracked her brain, trying to figure out where he might be. Then
it hit her. Their bench by the reflecting pool! Why hadn't she thought of it sooner? She hurried out of the office to find him.
*********
Mulder sat on the familiar bench, staring over the rolling
waters. Dozens of shells decorated the ground at his feet. He
didn't know what he'd do when he finished his 5.75-ounce bag of
David sunflower seeds. He didn't want to move, let alone return
to the office. If he did, he'd have to face Scully.
She had been very pensive lately. He could trace the genesis of her unusual behavior to the night he'd read her journal. Still, he'd pissed her off before, and she'd never remained so withdrawn for so long. There had to be more behind her attitude than his
behavior. Perhaps the man she had written about in her journal had broken her heart. He no longer thought it was Skinner. He'd been watching like a hawk, and Scully just didn't act "that way" around their boss.
No, whoever or whatever was troubling Scully remained a mystery.
He gave up on trying to solve it, and instead concentrated on his
own problems. He hadn't been having one of the better months of
his life. The Lonelyhearts date would probably be a disaster. It
wouldn't be fair to treat the woman like a surrogate Scully. It
wouldn't be fair to stand her up, either. He didn't know what to
do.
He heard light footfalls stop beside him. "Is this seat taken?"
a soft voice asked.
Without turning his head, he replied, "No, but I should warn you that I'm exhibiting self-flagellating tendencies."
Instead of replying "I'll take my chances" as he expected, Scully quipped, "Sure, fine, whatever," and sank onto the bench at his side. "You ditched me again," she said conversationally.
He swung toward her. "I did? When?"
"You left the office with no explanation, didn't come back for hours, didn't call me, forced me to track you down with no leads. That qualifies as a ditch."
"Yeah, but this time, you didn't have to save my ass," he pointed out.
The tension eased, they sat in companionable silence for some
time. Mulder finished his seeds and tossed the empty bag in the
trash receptacle five feet away. Scully crossed her legs and
settled back.
When the quiet grew oppressive, Mulder felt compelled to speak. What came out of his mouth was, "Why do you stay with me, Scully?"
"Why?" she repeated. "I've told you before. I value the work we do. It's important."
"But you could do important work somewhere else, too."
"I like it here. I also value our friendship."
He placed his hand over Scully's in thanks. To his relief, she didn't move hers away. He was forgiven. A lump rose in his throat, threatening to choke him. He would never want to lose Scully's friendship. If he'd been foolish enough to admit his
true feelings, it would have been withdrawn immediately. He should accept reality and try to move on with his life. The blind date tonight would be his start.
*********
On the stroke of 7, Scully marched into the Brocade Curtain with
her head high. She gave the name of "Grey" at the front desk; the
waiter, Jacques, led her toward a corner table.
Her date was sitting with his back to her. Even from that angle, he looked startlingly like Mulder. Why did she have to picture him in every man she met?
She rounded the table and saw his face. Oh! That explained it. It *was* him!
"Mulder!" she cried in shock as he gasped "Scully!" in an identical tone.
Nervelessly, she fell into the chair the waiter pulled out for her before he departed.
"How...what...." Mulder said.
"I don't understand...." Scully began.
The waiter interrupted the non-conversation as he returned to their table with a bottle of Dom Perignon.
They simultaneously regained their voices and chorused, "But we didn't order champagne."
The man nodded. "I know. It was arranged in advance. Courtesy of Walter." He poured them each a glass and retreated.
A long, uneasy silence ensued.
Mulder took a large sip of champagne and nearly choked on it.
Scully stared at the floor, feeling as out of place as a Democrat in a roomful of Republicans.
Then Mulder threw down his napkin. "Let's get out of here."
Despair formed in the pit of Scully's stomach. Mulder couldn't
have made it much more obvious that he didn't want to be around
her. No doubt he had been hoping for a different date entirely.
Not plain old Dana Scully, whom he saw almost every day in the
office. Miserably, she preceded him out of the restaurant and
toward her car.
"Scully?" he called.
She turned.
Mulder stood beside his vehicle. "I thought we would take my car?"
"Take your car where?"
"Somewhere you'll like." He formed his best injured puppy-dog face: the one that reminded her of a golden retriever.
So, Mulder didn't want to get rid of her. She smiled and walked back to him.
Fifteen minutes later, Mulder pulled into the parking lot of a small, run-down diner that boasted a purple neon sign reading "Al's All U Want." He cut off the engine and turned to Scully. "I thought we'd feel more comfortable here because we always eat
at this kind of place when we're on the road."
Scully nodded. As she got out of the car, she stumbled over a pothole, and just managed to regain her balance. Good thing she hadn't worn the 6" heels tonight.
Mulder was almost instantly at her side, looking at her in concern as he grabbed her arm. "Are you all right?"
"Sure," she replied.
She was rewarded with the brilliant smile Mulder reserved for her. "As long as you have your sea legs now."
She laughed to indicate her understanding of the inside joke, and was heartened when Mulder kept hold of her arm as they entered the building.
*********
The interior of the diner achieved the dubious distinction of looking even cheaper than the exterior had. From the cracked, dingy linoleum floor to the faded wallpaper, it was in desperate need of an overhaul. Only the incongruous sight of a glistening,
state-of-the-art jukebox made a positive impression.
In such an atmosphere, they were wildly overdressed. Mulder didn't care. He steered Scully to a reasonably clean-looking booth in a deserted corner of the room, where they slid in on opposite sides.
The waitress, a middle-aged blonde with a weathered face and large, plastic hoop earrings, sauntered over and handed them two menus. She braced her hip against their table and doodled on her pad as she waited for them to order.
Mulder waved expansively. "Have whatever you want, Scully."
She searched the menu with the air of one who expected to find a particular item. "Coffee and garden salad with French dressing, please."
Mulder snorted in disbelief. "Scully, I said *anything*, my treat. You don't have to get that rabbit food."
"You said to order what I want," she pertly replied. "I did."
"Okay, have it your way," he relented. "I'll take the hamburger special with French fries and a large Coke."
It was Scully's turn to scoff. "Do you know what that stuff will do to your arteries, Mulder?"
"At least it has some taste to it!"
The familiar banter lasted throughout the meal, and temporarily
succeeded in making the two forget that they were on their first
date. But when they pushed away their empty plates, the
conversation died, and they had trouble meeting each other's
eyes.
'It shouldn't be this difficult,' thought Mulder. 'We've been working together for seven years.'
'Why is everything so awkward?' thought Scully. 'We know each other so well. Maybe we aren't meant to be, after all.'
Mulder saw Scully glance at her watch, and felt panic claw at his belly. The start of the date had been ridiculously inept, the drive to the diner nerve-wracking, but if they left now, he had the feeling he would never get another chance.
"Dance with me," he blurted.
Scully's eyes widened. Mulder mentally kicked himself and
attempted to lay on some charm. "Just once?" he pleaded, getting
up. He didn't think she would refuse to move while he stood like
an idiot.
She didn't. She placed her hand in his and rose, and they walked to the cleared area near the jukebox. Like it had been predestined, a new song started to play as they set foot in the space. Mulder recognized REO Speedwagon, with "Can't Fight This Feeling." Yes, it definitely was fate. He took Scully in his arms and swayed to the music.
I can't fight this feeling any longer
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow
What started out as friendship has grown stronger
I only wish I had the strength to let it show
I tell myself that I can't hold out forever
I say there is no reason for my fear
Cause I feel so secure when we're together
You give my life direction
You make everything so clear
As he listened to the lyrics, they magically gave him the courage to unlock his heart, to express the emotions within. "Scully." He stopped. That didn't sound right. It was a "Dana" moment, not a "Scully" one. He tried again. "Dana, I have something to tell
you."
She gazed up at him with her beautiful, Windex-blue eyes. In that
moment, he felt like he saw straight through to her soul, where
her feelings mirrored his own. His next words flowed out like a
rush of lava down a mountainside. "I love you, Dana Katherine
Scully. You're my one in five billion."
Her steps faltered. "Mulder, I--"
He tightened his grip around her waist. "No, please call me Fox. That is, if you don't mind," he added shyly.
"I thought you hated your name?"
Reading Dana's mind, he knew that she was remembering a day when she had called him by his first name and he had practically laughed in her face. "Dana, I said that to maintain a distance between us. I had to keep up that wall any way I could. But now
it's different. Now, I'd like to hear you say my true name."
"All right...Fox." She tested out his name. And while he had never liked it before, it sounded perfect coming from her lips.
He didn't realize he'd spoken those words until Dana whispered, "I love you, too, Fox William Mulder. You complete me."
He hesitated. A niggling doubt kept him from accepting Dana's words at face value. "I want to believe. You don't know how much I want to believe. But in your journal, you wrote about a man you were in love with. I didn't find his name before you caught me."
"Oh, silly, I was writing about *you*! Who else could it possibly have been?"
"I thought it was Skinner," he confessed, "until I watched you around him and realized he's strictly an authority figure to you."
"Speaking of Skinner, he obviously played a part in our blind date. We'll have to thank him. But not tonight. Tonight, I have other plans for you." Dana gave him a speaking look.
They danced in a daze, until a teenager with a fresh scar on his forehead switched the jukebox to Eminem's "Drug Ballad."
Fox dropped his arms away from Dana. "Well, uh, do you want to go to my place?"
"I think mine would be more comfortable, don't you?"
When Dana spoke in that suggestive tone, he would deny her
nothing. At their booth, Fox found a check for $9.58. He dropped
a $10 bill on the table and positioned a palm on the small of
Dana's back to guide her out of the diner. In the reflection in
the window, he saw the waitress mouthing insults at them, but
nothing could shake his mood. He and Dana were finally together.
*****
They held hands during the drive home, except when Fox needed to use the turn signal. But as soon as he flicked the switch, he returned his free hand to the comfort of Dana's.
When they entered her apartment, however, Dana sat on the far end of the couch, tucked her legs tucked up under her, and drew an embroidered throw pillow into her lap. Fox approached her, but she pointed to the opposite end of the sofa. He hesitated, then
obediently seated himself at a distance.
"We need to talk." Dana picked at the fringe of the pillow, not sure how to best broach the topic.
Fox inched closer. "What is it, Dana?"
The warm glow from his hazel eyes encouraged her. "Well, there's the matter of children. Specifically, the fact that I can't have any."
"We can consult another doctor. We can go to fertility specialists. We can adopt," Fox rattled off.
"You'd do that for me, Fox?"
"I'd do anything for you, Dana," he vowed, and stretched forward to kiss her on the forehead.
"Do you want children?" Dana asked. "From what you've told me, while you were growing up your own home life wasn't the greatest."
Fox nodded. "Yeah, you're right. It's about time you knew. After Sam was gone, my father took out his frustrations on me. He drank a lot and hit me sometimes."
"I guessed as much," Dana admitted. "You've hinted at it before. What about your mother? What did she do when your father abused you?"
"She was drugged out of her mind half the time. I think it helped her forget. She did try to protect me in the beginning, but my father hit her, too. She quit trying pretty soon."
Dana patted his hand in silent commiseration.
Fox drew in a shuddering breath. "Speaking of families, what about yours? How will they react to the news about us?"
"Don't worry. I know my father would have approved of you. And my mom already loves you."
Fox looked down. "Bill doesn't."
"Bill's an asshole. Don't give him a second thought. I won't let him live my life for me."
"I don't want you to ruin your relationship with him on my account," Fox worried.
Dana took his face between her hands. "Fox William Mulder, you are the number-one most important person in my life, and don't you ever forget it. I'm sorry if my insecurities caused you to doubt yourself. You should never do that. As for Bill, if he has a problem with us, he can go to hell."
"Dana, are you absolutely sure? God knows you can do a whole lot better than a moody, self-absorbed, pathetic, guilt-ridden idiot like me. There isn't a man who knows you who isn't in love with you. You can have your pick."
"So can you, Fox. I've seen the way the other women agents look at you, especially when you're in the swimming pool."
"Really?" He waggled his eyebrows and pouted playfully.
"Like you've never noticed," Dana teased.
"They might have looked, but I never looked back," Fox said. "The only woman I've wanted is you."
"It was worth the wait to hear those words. Just make sure it's not seven more years before I hear them."
Fox fixed his gaze on a point on the wall and spoke in a rush. "You might not feel that way once you hear some more facts. My romantic history is lousy. Phoebe was my first real girlfriend. She did quite a number on my head. It took me years to get over
it. Then Diana came along. At first, she acted like she truly loved me. We even eloped, but the marriage didn't last long. The minute she got the chance for a promotion, she jumped at it and left me. That's why I was so gun-shy when I met you. I've never been good at relationships. I'm terrified that I'll mess this one
up, too."
Her withdrawal had caused Fox to become assailed with doubts.
Dana had to perform damage control. She spoke soothingly. "I
sensed that you had been married to Diana. I wish you'd felt
comfortable enough to tell me before, but it's all in the past.
I'm more sure that we're meant to be together than I've ever been
about anything else in my life. As far as I'm concerned, there's
only one issue left: Can we juggle our personal lives with our
professional ones? I don't want our work to suffer because of
this change in our relationship. We can't stop now. If we do,
They win. And the truth is still out there."
Her strategy worked; confidence and vigor returned to Fox's voice. "Dana, we can maintain that balance. Work is work, and our private life is our private life."
"I'm glad you said that, because I think we can handle it, too."
Fox grinned. "This probably isn't the best time to tell you that my number-one fantasy is of us doing it on the desk at work."
Dana chuckled. "It's mine, too!"
"That would be unprofessional, wouldn't it?" Fox observed. "Blurring the line between work and home."
"Not if we locked the door first," Dana suggested. "But I think we can restrain ourselves until we're off the clock. You just have to swear one thing to me. The next time you're in the hospital, you can't disconnect the medical equipment and try to
escape every five minutes."
Fox looked thoughtful. "Only if you promise to privately consult with me whenever I want."
Dana smiled. "That's a given."
"Oh, no, I just thought of another problem," Fox said in a dire tone.
Dana gasped. "What? Tell me!"
Fox paused dramatically, then announced, "It's Frohike. We have to find a gentle way of letting him know that the enigmatic Agent Scully is off the market."
Dana lightly punched him in the arm. "You scared me for a minute there! As for Frohike, he'll probably recover if you give him those videos that aren't yours as a consolation prize. I can't compare to the women in them anyway."
"No, Dana, you can't," Fox agreed. "You're the real thing, and far superior. I watched those videos because I couldn't have you. Now that we're together, I don't need them. They're all Frohike's."
Dana reconsidered. "Maybe not all. We could keep one or two. Speaking of which, why don't we move this show into the bedroom?"
*********
Fox blinked, unable to believe that he had heard correctly. Had Dana Katherine Scully, the love of his life, invited him into her bedroom? Judging from the sultry look on her face, yes. She turned and glided away; willingly, he trailed her.
Inside her room, she turned on only the bedside lamp.
He stood staring dumbly at her.
Dana looked him over. "Aren't you a little overdressed, Fox?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah!" He hadn't been so nervous since he was 15 and he dissolved sleeping pills into his dad's beer to see if they would work. He slowly stripped, Dana watching all the while. As he pulled down his pants, she burst into helpless laughter.
"What? What is it?" Fox asked in confusion.
Between chortles, she choked out, "Your boxers."
Fox glanced down. He wore the Marvin the Martian pair. "Why couldn't I have picked the black silk ones today of all days? Even the UFOs would have been better than this."
"You have UFO boxers?" Dana promptly succumbed to another fit of the giggles.
Fox grinned sheepishly. "Would you believe they were a gag gift from Langly?"
Dana managed to quell her hilarity. "Why don't you just keep going?"
"I hope you don't start laughing again," Fox muttered as he yanked off his boxers and flung them into the far corner.
Dana sucked in a breath. "Oh, Fox, you're so...so...big," she said in an awestruck tone.
She wasn't giggling anymore, he noted with satisfaction.
"In fact, G-man, you're the biggest I've ever seen," she continued.
Fox swelled with pride. "Okay, G-woman. Fair's fair. I've shown you mine; now you have to show me yours."
Her ivory cheeks took on a faint hue as she stripped down to her underwear. Dana had come better prepared than he had. She wore amethyst silk panties.
She put her hands on the convenient front-fastening bra, but Fox covered them with his own. "Please, allow me." He enjoyed the luxury of slowly urging off Dana's bra to reveal the milky globes of her breasts. He drank in the glorious sight, then knelt
to remove her panties. She stepped out of them, and he remained staring at the patch of hair between her thighs.
"Fox? What is it?" she asked in a small voice.
He hurried to reassure her. "Why do I have to be colorblind? I've
wondered for the longest time if you were a natural redhead. I
still do."
Dana smiled. "You'll have to take my word for it: I am."
She lay back on the bed, but he scanned the room around them.
"What are you doing?"
Finished, Fox turned back to Dana. "Checking for bees. I don't want to be interrupted this time."
He wasn't the only one who didn't want to be interrupted. "Come here, Fox," Dana ordered. She pulled him down on top of her, and he examined her body with the focus of a scientist looking through a microscope. He paused at her scar and traced its
length with his index finger. With only that touch, he was saying that he would always remember the day she was almost taken from him.
She smoothed his hair back from his brow. With only that touch, she was saying that she would be with him for a long time to come.
He moved lower, closer to the center of her burning need, and Dana pressed her legs together. "Fox, you don't have to do that."
He tilted his head up at her. "Why not? Don't you want me to?"
"It's not that, exactly." She struggled for words. "It...I don't...I've always been kind of...repressed. It's probably got something to do with that Catholic guilt you hear about."
Fox rested his head on her abdomen. "No, you aren't repressed. You just didn't find the right man until me. Let me prove it to you. Please?"
He looked so much like a begging spaniel, she couldn't bring herself to say no. He took her slight nod as assent and set to work.
She knew she was embarrassingly wet for him before he gently probed her moist core with one finger, followed by a second. His talented tongue soon joined in the action, darting in and out, dancing across her clit.
Dana dug her nails into her new percale sheets, vaguely thinking that she'd find two hands' worth of crescent-shaped tears in them when she regained consciousness.
With one last nibble and suck, Fox pushed her into the abyss.
The next thing Dana knew, Fox was running a damp washcloth over her face and murmuring her name in an endearingly anxious tone. She forced open her eyes to see his beloved features swim into focus.
"I must have blacked out for a minute there," she realized.
"More like two or three," Fox corrected. "You had me scared. I suppose I don't have to ask if it was good for you, though."
"I knew that oral fixation of yours would come in handy someday. Lucky me. I'll never complain about those sunflower seeds again."
Fox lay beside Dana, listening to her breathing ease into a steady rhythm. Nothing could make him happier.
"You don't look very comfortable, Fox. Why don't we take care of that situation for you?"
He'd been wrong: There *was* something that could make him happier. But he didn't want to rush Dana. "Are you sure? Is it too soon for you?"
"My recuperative powers might shock you."
"Better that *mine* shock *you*," said Fox.
He positioned himself over Dana and sank to the hilt, as if being engulfed in quicksand, until he was immersed in her core. It felt like he had always belonged there, like he had come home after a long journey.
Below him, she tensed.
He stilled. "Dana? What's wrong?" Should he pull out? Should he let her be on top? He was so huge and she was so tiny. He had to be hurting her.
Dana bit her lower lip. "Nothing's wrong, Fox."
"You feel so tight," he objected, "like a glove that's two sizes too small."
"It's been a long time for me. A very, very long time. Since before I met you."
His jaw dropped. "But I thought...Ed Jerse...."
"Nothing happened with him. I stopped it before it went too far."
In the back of Fox's mind, he had harbored the secret hope that
that slim possibility was true, but he'd never dared believe it.
The joy he felt nearly overwhelmed him, and prompted him to
reveal his own secret. "Dana, I have another confession to make.
Don't worry, this is a good one. It's been a long time for me,
too."
"Then we can get used to it together. You can start moving. Go slowly at first," she cautioned.
He began to thrust deeply and steadily, and Dana counterpumped. After fewer than a dozen strokes, they simultaneously exploded, shouting each other's names. Fox heaved himself off of Dana, and they lay panting and quivering in the aftershocks of
their private earthquake.
Dana recovered first. "That's never happened to me before. Ever. You must have found my G-spot right away."
Fox's muscles gelled enough for him to reply. "I've never come that fast in my life. I swear I'll do better next time. Just give me another chance."
"No, I meant, *that's* never happened before."
"*That* what, Dana?"
"You know. *That.* The orgasm. I've never had one in that position before."
Fox shook his head. "And here I was, thinking you knew all sorts of doctor tricks. Those other men were fools."
"There weren't very many. My first wasn't until college. I was a science geek in high school. Melissa was the popular, outgoing one -- the rebel who got all the boys. No one noticed me when she was around."
"Like I said, they were fools. So, how long have you known?" he asked as he stroked her hair.
Their telepathic connection came in handy; Dana knew that Fox was asking when she'd realized she was in love with him. She nestled closer to him. "Since I shot you. What about you?"
"Since Duane Barry took you," he said immediately. "I was a mess without you around. Anyone will tell you that."
She was silent for long seconds.
"Dana, what are you thinking?"
"That we've wasted all this time."
"No, we spent those years deepening our relationship. It wouldn't be this good if we didn't have the past to draw upon."
Dana ruffled his hair. "Sometimes you are so much wiser than me."
A thought crossed Fox's mind. "We were pretty noisy. Do you think the neighbors heard?"
"If they did, it's nothing on my part they haven't heard before, only a little louder." She thought for a moment. "Okay, a lot louder."
"What do you mean, Dana? You said it's been a long time for you."
"It has. But I do have a vibrator. It's a girl's best friend. The neighbors have heard me call out your name before. Many times."
"How many?"
"Many. I'll leave it at that."
"I think I deserve a more precise answer," Fox insisted. As he leaned over to tickle Dana, his renewed erection poked her in the thigh.
"Fox, is that your gun, or are you happy to see me?"
"Want to go for a double-header?"
"Already, Fox?"
"Sure. Little Fox is up to another round."
Dana ran her fingers along his engorged member to confirm his words. It was true; his cock was rock-hard and throbbing. "It's amazing. Wait until the medical journals get hold of you."
"I'd rather save it for you, Dana."
Since she also preferred that option, that was what they did. Three more times, they awakened during the night to make love, and each experience was as good as the first had been. Maybe even better, as they grew more familiar with each other's body.
Eventually, satiated from passion, they fell into an exhausted slumber.
*********
For the first time in many weeks, Fox slept for four hours straight without waking from a nightmare. When he woke up, he was alone. He hadn't dreamed it all, had he? Then he realized he was in Dana's bed, surrounded by her scent. By *their* scent.
Still, he had to find her, to make sure she hadn't changed her mind about them. He scrambled out of bed, dug his extra clothes out of the emergency drawer Dana kept for him, dressed in record time, and rushed into the living room. He slid to a stop just in
time to avoid a collision with Dana, who held a glass of iced tea.
She grasped the glass with both hands to steady it. "Fox, why are
you running around?"
She'd called him by his first name; all was well. "No reason."
She looked sternly at him. "You shouldn't try to hide your
feelings from me. What upset you?"
"I was afraid that last night was another dream, and I was alone."
"It certainly wasn't, and you definitely won't be ever again." She pressed a kiss to his cheek and set the glass on the coffee table, on top of a "Journal of the American Medical Association" issue. "There's your iced tea, baby doll--" She cut herself off
and flushed. "I'm sorry, you probably don't want to be called that."
"Hey, I kind of like having a pet name," he informed her.
She smiled. "I'm so glad you like it. You'll be hearing it a lot more in the future."
"I'll have to come up with a nickname for you, too, then," Fox observed. "What about 'angel'? That's what you are to me."
"Oh, how sweet." She apparently thought it was sweet enough to
warrant another kiss. That kiss swiftly turned into two, and
three, and more. Fox's lips migrated downward, and Dana bent her
neck to allow him better access.
She jerked away when he sucked especially hard. "Fox, did you just give me a hickey?"
"I can't say for sure."
"If you did, that would mean I'll have to wear turtlenecks to the office for a whole week."
"No, Dana, that would mean you'd have to give me a hickey in return to pay me back. I won't mind at all, I promise."
"Down, boy!" Dana said firmly. "Give me a little break."
Fox took a step backward. "Was last night too...strenuous?"
"Let's just say that I used muscles I'd forgotten I have. I was going to take a hot bath after I gave you your iced tea. Do you have any plans for today?" Fox leered at her; she blushed. "Aside from that!"
He turned serious. "Well, we need to go back to the Brocade Curtain to pick up your car, and what's for breakfast?"
"Anything that requires less than five minutes of preparation, and no talent. It's time for another confession, Fox. I can't cook. That's why I always suggest getting takeout."
He shrugged. "That's okay. I can't cook, either."
"And that's why *you* always suggest getting takeout!" Dana realized. "We really *are* meant for each other! Although, if you had any lingering fears that it wouldn't work out, last night should have put them to rest. It was the most incredible experience of my life. It's never happened to me five times in one night. And we came together every time, too!"
"More proof that we belong together," Fox acknowledged. "But I need to make sure that we're on the same page. Where do you want our relationship to go?"
"We shouldn't let any more time slip away. We can spend the weekends at each other's place. One day, I'd like to move in together."
Fox grinned so widely, he felt like a coat hanger was stretching his mouth. "I love the idea. When it's safe to go public, we can buy our own place. Wouldn't a house be great?"
"Terrific, but can we afford it?"
Fox took a deep breath and plunged in. "Yes. See, I have all this trust-fund money, and--"
"Trust fund?" Dana interrupted. "You have a trust fund?"
"You'd be surprised at the amount I inherited when my father died. The rest came from my mother's estate. It didn't seem important at the time. But now I'm glad I have it, for your sake. We'll never have to worry about money."
"That's great, Fox."
Fox sighed in relief. He had been afraid that Dana would be angry with him for keeping the truth about his financial status to himself for so long. "Someday we'll get a dog, and name it Boomer or Daggoo," he said.
"After 'Moby Dick' characters. You remembered, Fox!" Dana exclaimed.
"I never forget anything about you, Starbuck."
"Except my birthday," Dana pointed out.
"If we get married on February 23 and it's also our anniversary, I'll never forget it," he promised.
"Fox!" Dana exclaimed. "Was that a proposal?"
"This isn't quite how I imagined making it all those hundreds of times. But...." Fox knelt before Dana. "Will you do me the honor of becoming 'Mrs. Spooky' for real?"
Tears sprang into Dana's eyes. "Of course I will, Fox."
The insistent ringing of the doorbell postponed their celebration. Dana jumped up to answer it. "I'll get rid of whoever it is," she said as she pulled open the door. "Oh, Mom!" She hugged her unexpected visitor.
Fox politely stood as Maggie entered the living room. She looked from Dana to him and back. "Well, Dana, I have to say, I'm surprised. Lately, you've sounded so depressed, and today you look so happy. Does your change in attitude have anything to do with Fox's presence? What happened?"
"Assistant Director Walter Skinner," Dana replied. "He set us up last night. He's our very own cupid!"
Maggie threw her arms around Fox and squeezed him so tightly that he gasped for air. "Welcome to the family, Fox. Now you have no excuse not to call me Mom!"
Right on cue, the bell chimed again. And when Dana opened the door, who should stand there but AD Skinner himself.
"Thank you, sir," Dana told him.
He smiled. "You can call me Walter outside of work. That goes for you, too, Mulder."
"In that case, we're Fox and Dana to you, Walter," Fox warmly replied.
Walter ignored him. He had just caught sight of Maggie, and couldn't seem to tear his eyes away. Nor could she stop staring at him.
Dana leaned her head against Fox's arm and whispered, "Looks like we're not the only ones in love."
Walter crossed the room and took Maggie's hands in his. "Should we tell them the news?" At her nod, he turned to face Fox and Dana. "Maggie and I have been working for weeks, trying to get you two to admit the truth. And along the way, a miracle
occurred: We fell in love!"
"We wanted you to be the first to know -- we're engaged!" Maggie announced.
"That's wonderful," said Dana, thrilled for her boss and friend,and her mother. "We're engaged, too."
Grinning broadly, Walter enveloped her in a bear hug. "Guess you'll be calling me 'Uncle Walter' soon." He then turned to Fox and vigorously pumped his hand. "That goes for you, too. But only off the job." He winked.
Fox winked back. It was good to know that he and Walter understood each other. All of those years of butting heads dissolved under the strength of their new bond.
"Wouldn't it be perfect if we could be June brides in a double wedding?" Maggie cried.
A shadow passed over Dana's face. "The FBI won't allow it. Regulation 1013, Clause X, prohibits romantic involvement between partners. If anyone found out that we were so much as dating, we'd be subject to disciplinary measures. We might even lose our
jobs. If we got married, the consequences would probably be the
worst possible."
Skinner shook his head. "Don't worry, kids. I'm working on getting an exemption granted that will enable you to continue working together on the X-Files no matter what. You can pay me back by naming your first son after me. Walter Sergei Scully-
Mulder has a very nice ring to it, don't you think?"
"Oh, no. Our first son is going to be called Fox, Jr." Dana shot Fox a look that dared him to disagree with her.
He gave in gracefully. "Then our first daughter should be named Melissa Dana, or Samantha Katherine. And Margaret is also a great name."
The joyous group traded names and dates as they planned their futures together. What would normally have been a solitary, dismal weekend for each of them had turned into a time of family, love, and togetherness that would never end.
end
My fingers cramped up in protest every time I typed Fox and Dana, but they've recovered now and I can answer feedback.
The challenge elements were:
--a dead fish
--Skinner dancing with Scully
--a Celine Dion song
--an online dating agency
--an old friend of Skinner's
--Star Trek: Voyager
--Mulder and Scully at a diner
ADDITIONAL DISCLAIMER: None of the songs belong to me, either.
