From: RaValliano@aol.com Date: Sat, 5 Sep 1998 21:26:36 EDT Subject: Eleventh Hour by Rachel Anton Title: Eleventh Hour (1/11) Author: Rachel Anton E-mail: RaValliano@aol.com (note: if anyone has tried to contact me at this addy in the past few months and hasn't gotten a response, I AM SO SORRY!! I was having trouble accessing my account for awhile and aol eventually just started erasing my messages so I might have missed a few. Should be all better now though.) Rating: NC-17 for cussin' and sexin' Category: S, R Keywords: MSR, angst, kinda sorta an x-file, pre x-files Distribution: Anywhere with my name and e-mail Disclaimer: Anybody you recognize doesn't belong to me. Summary: Some feeling defy the confines of time. Author's notes: This story deals with time travel in a completely illogical and scientifically inaccurate way. Scully would shudder at this. It's about feelings people :) Also, this story has a lot of parts but I promise they are all relatively short. Acknowledgments: Thanks to Laura for tireless and fearless editing and for thinking of the title! And thanks to Amy for being there when this thing was an amoebae of an idea and for helping me make it grow. February 14, 2001 It's Valentine's Day. Never one of my favorite days but this one has to be the topper. The worst Valentine's Day in the history of a long line of crappy Valentine's Days. Just as every day in the past nine months has been the worst of it's kind. Yesterday was the worst February 13th. A month ago it was the worst January 13th. And so on. Yes, it's been 9 months. Almost. In two days it will be 9 months. I haven't written or spoken of this, or anything really, to anyone. Not yet. This is the first try. My court appointed therapist tells me that if I write it will help. That if I let a little bit of it go, the nightmares might abate, I will eat, I will speak. I don't believe her. Nor do I care. I will try this though, if only to appease her, to make her stop coming to me every day. If she thinks I am making progress, maybe she will leave me alone. We were on a case. It was pretty run of the mill for us. Murder. I can't do this. Okay, try again. We were on a murder case. There were certain irregularities in the corpses. God. Fuck it. Nobody cares about that shit anymore, least of all me. Suffice it to say we were on a case. We had a suspect and she went after him. To protect his next target. She put herself in a lot of danger. A lot. And she didn't tell me that she was going, she just went. Just ran off without a word on a hunch. A fucking hunch. Okay, she caught the guy, single handed. But I was pissed. I was really, really pissed. I know it's nothing I hadn't done to her a thousand times. Hypocrisy runs deep in my blood. I went to her hotel room to try to talk to her, to ask her why she hadn't told me. God was I pissed. She was too. She didn't understand. God, she never understood. I think maybe she thought she did, but she didn't, not really. I suppose my methods of getting the point across weren't too effective. I shook her. I actually shook her. And I made her cry. I yelled and I shook and I tried to make her see how scared I was and I made her fucking cry. I was just so tired. Tired of seeing her almost die. I know it's part of the job description, part of the risk. I accepted that risk for myself happily. I never accepted it for her though. And she was part of me. And it wasn't fair that part of me could run off without me and almost die without even asking me if it was okay. That probably sounds chauvinistic. She's her own person. That's what she told me anyway. I thought she knew that I couldn't live without her. I thought I had made that clear. I think she wanted me to tell her again. I think she wanted me to tell her why. I think I almost did. I think I was so close to it that I could taste it. It was time. We both knew that it was time already. Time to cut the bullshit and finish what we had started so many times. So many times that I wasted. But, as usual, something stopped us. This time it was a ringing phone. She shook her head when it rang. She didn't want me to answer it. Why did I answer it? I'm sorry. I'm so Shit, all right, here we go again. I am supposed to be writing her name. That's what the therapist said. I don't think I can. She gave me a pen and paper the other day and asked me to write it, just once. I couldn't. I scrawled out the shaky beginnings of an S and then just gave up. I don't even want to try now. Anyway, I answered the phone. It was the sheriff. He wanted me to come down to the station and fill out some reports. They needed me. That's what I told myself, and her. It was important. Always another important thing. She held her hand out across the door and told me I wasn't leaving until we finished this. I couldn't. I wanted to. I was so scared. Someone needed to get a statement from the killer's father. That was for her. I told her to do that. It was safe. It was easy. I thought I I can't do this. February 16 Well, I showed the shrink what I've written so far. Good progress according to her. Yeah, fucking great. Really. I am so proud. So, here we go. I told her to go. That's right. I demanded that she go. That she leave. She was being unprofessional, letting our personal problems take precedence over the case. I knew how to get to her, which buttons to push. God what a prick I was that day. What a frightened, frantic, nasty prick. She went. She went because I asked her to. It seemed like something simple to keep her busy for awhile. Maybe it would give her time to forget, to let this slide the way she usually let my emotional fits slide. I told her to go so that I could escape. Because I am a coward. Because I am selfish. No self-reproach. That's what therapy woman tells me. She wants me to write this without talking about what a waste of space I am, about how pathetic I am. She doesn't want me to write about the fact that it should have been me. How am I supposed to do that? She thinks if I can manage it they might take me off the suicide watch. I doubt that though. So, she went. She went to interview the psycho's father and I went to the sheriff's office. When I was there I couldn't think of anything but the look on her face when I picked up that damn phone. I knew I had let her down. Again. And I vowed to make it up to her. Someday, somehow. One day I would have enough courage to let this thing happen, to let her give herself to me. One day I would have enough faith in myself, be a good enough person to trust myself with her. I didn't even sense that something was wrong. I didn't even know. How could I not have fucking known? The call came in as I was getting ready to leave, ready to face her again. I remember hoping she was delayed, that I wouldn't have to see her for a few more hours. I didn't want to see her. God. I didn't want to face her. God. It was the hospital. Your partner's been hurt. Your partner's been shot. Shot in the head. Your partner is dying. I don't remember what I felt. I don't remember driving to the hospital. I swear I don't. I'm not trying to avoid writing about it. I honestly don't remember. I remember getting to the emergency room. I remember a woman, a nurse, talking to me. Telling me it was over, telling me she had "passed". That's what that motherfucking cunt said to me. "Sorry, she's passed." I didn't understand. Passed? Passed what? I just kept asking the nurse where she was, over and over. I didn't understand. It was like someone telling you the sun had exploded and wasn't going to be coming around anymore. It just doesn't make sense. Where did it go? When is it coming back? You just don't understand. Eventually a doctor came up to me and told me where she was. The morgue. She was in the morgue. Doing an autopsy, I wondered. No, she's passed. Same fucking thing. They wouldn't tell me where the morgue was so I went and found it for myself. I'd been to enough of them to know where to look. But when I got there, she wasn't there. There was just some guy in a lab coat and a bunch of drawers. I asked him where she was, what they had done with her. He pointed to one of the drawers and asked me to leave. But how could I leave when they had locked her in a drawer? I pulled it open and she was there. Looking back it's hard to fathom how I could have thought she was still alive. She was cold and blue. The side of her face was God, it was just gone. But I still didn't understand. Fuck it, I still don't. I still sometimes think that. I guess that's why I'm here. They tell me over and over that she's not. I held her lifeless body in my hands. I still cannot believe sometimes. I took her out of the drawer and I started to carry her out of there. She was naked, just like the last time they had taken her, and I covered her with the sheet she was laying on and held her close to my body. The lab guy called security I suppose because soon there were men with badges and guns everywhere telling me to let her go. I couldn't, how could I? I collapsed onto the floor, still holding her and cradled her in my lap. I tried talking to her, whispering in her ear, telling her I was sorry but she still wouldn't wake up. I slapped her. I slapped her beautiful face and she still wouldn't wake up. I didn't understand. I don't understand. Scully where are you? Scully. God. Scully. February 20th Shrink woman is very impressed with my progress. She wants me to show my entries to the group since I won't say a word to any of them. Fuck that shit. She's lucky I'm showing them to her. Despite my so called progress, I haven't been able to write for the past four days. After finishing my last entry I slipped into a semi-catatonic state for awhile. That's what they call it anyway. I dunno, I just didn't want to do anything for awhile. What the hell's wrong with that? Anyway, today I got bored with catatonia and decided to write a little bit. I'm supposed to talk about my "process" now. How I ended up here. I suppose it's needless to say that after the episode in the hospital I was deemed unfit for duty and removed from the bureau. Well, they called it an "extended vacation until such time as Agent Mulder has recovered from the death of his partner". We all knew what that meant though. I was gone for good. I didn't go to the funeral. Is that horrible? A lot of people think that it was. Her family was furious. Her mother made a special trip to my apartment to tell me I was a selfish bastard and ought to be ashamed for not showing up. She told me her daughter would have been very disappointed in me. She'd wanted me to deliver a eulogy. They didn't understand. How could I give a eulogy for someone who wasn't really dead. Yes, I still thought she was coming back at this point. I thought a funeral was a travesty. It was a hoax perpetrated by our enemies. They had taken her again and put some dead clone in her place so that I wouldn't look for her. I was absolutely certain that this was the case and wouldn't hear anything else for a long time. I looked for her. I didn't have the bureau's resources but I did what I could. Lots of people tried to talk to me at this point. I guess this is when I stopped speaking altogether. I just couldn't argue anymore. They all kept telling me she was dead and I got so tired of the sad, sympathetic look they'd give me when I told them that she wasn't. I didn't need their fucking pity. I still don't. Eventually I found the man that supposedly killed her. He was very angry about her arresting his son and apparently psychosis runs in the family. He disappeared for awhile after the shooting but I managed to track him down. I guess that's when it clicked. When I saw him I finally understood what he had done. He had killed her and she wasn't coming back. It was no surprise to anyone that I killed him. I think if that's all I had done I wouldn't even be here. One clean gunshot wound to the head. If that's all I had done I would probably just be in prison. Or maybe even free. There's a certain leniency in the system, a code that protects those who kill someone who has murdered a law enforcement officer. But that's not what I did. I guess you could say that I tortured him. I suppose that one could say that. I'm not interested in getting into the details. It's enough to say that he died a slow and painful death. And I don't regret it. At all. And if that means that I will never get out of here then so be it. I will never apologize. I will never have an ounce of remorse. Once it was done I realized that my one purpose left in life had been achieved and that it was time to blow this taco stand. I was so close. The gun was in my mouth, safety off, hand on the trigger. And then they shot me. Motherfucking cops shot my hand so that I would drop the gun. It took me a few months to get the use of my hand completely back. Dumb fuckers. It was none of their business. Why stop a man from killing himself only to put him in an institution for the criminally insane at the taxpayer's expense. What good does that do anyone? I'm sure someone could lose an election over that shit. After they shot me they took me to the hospital. They fixed my hand and then they arrested me. It was actually pretty funny. No one seemed to know what to do with me for a long time. I sat in a jail cell, staring at the wall for a few days. Then there was a trial. Skinner got me a lawyer. I guess he was a good lawyer. He wanted me to talk though. He thought if I could express my emotional distress to the jury they would be easier on me. I think my silence conveyed the message just as strongly. Anyway, it was pretty obvious to everyone involved that I was a mental incompetent. So they sent me here. And here I am still. xxxx Mulder dropped his pen and looked up nervously. Someone was reading over his shoulder, he could sense it. He turned around to the deranged visage of Crazy Larry. Larry was often likened to an uglier, scarier version of Hannibal Lecter. Everyone in the place was afraid of him except for Mulder. Mulder understood where he was coming from. Larry had lost his entire family in one night. His wife and children had been murdered right in front of him. He'd been a scientist before that. After the murders he'd turned into a professional lunatic. The men locked eyes and Mulder closed his journal protectively. "You're writing. That's good." Mulder rolled his eyes and looked away. "That's right, you don't talk. Well, that's just as well. I need to tell you something and it would be better if you didn't interrupt." Larry sat down beside him and Mulder got up to leave. The rec. room was giving him a headache anyway. All these noisy loonies. He preferred to go mad quietly thank you very much. "Wait! Don't leave. This is important. It's about your girlfriend." Mulder turned angrily back towards him. Girlfriend. Fucking asshole. Was that supposed to be some kind of fucking joke? She had never been his girlfriend. Larry saw his mistake and amended for it. "Or, whatever she was. The woman who died. The one you lost. I'm talking to you because I know you want her back. I know you'd do anything to have her back." Mulder just glared at the man and started to walk away again. Larry grabbed his arm. Mulder was starting to get extremely frustrated with the situation. Why was he tormenting him this way? "I know a way. I know a way that you can go back and save her. Isn't that what you want more than anything? To go back and change things so that she never died?" Bastard. Fucking bastard fucking with his head. "Isn't that what you lie awake crying silently to yourself wishing you could do?" "Fuck. Off." Mulder growled quietly. "Ah, we're not completely mute." Larry grinned. "I apologize if I've angered you. It wasn't my intention." Mulder wondered what the hell his intention was then. "It's just that I can see you're as desperate as I am. I want to help you. I assure you, I'm completely sincere." Mulder doubted that but he didn't really have anything else to do with his time. And if there was a chance, a one in a billion chance, he had to listen. How could he not? He sat back down and Larry smiled again. "Good. Good choice. I realize that you're going to think I'm full of shit. I completely understand. This is probably going to be the most implausible thing you've ever heard." Mulder seriously doubted that. "Before they brought me here I was working on a project with a colleague of mine. He'd always been interested in the prospect of time travel you see. I thought him a bit of an eccentric but when...well, when the unfortunate incidents occurred, I became interested, even obsessed with the idea. What if I could go back? What if I could change things? Make it so we'd never been in the house that night. A simple thing. Go to the movies, go anywhere. These tiny choices, sometimes they make all the difference." Larry grew silent for a moment. His haggard face took on a haunted look. One that Mulder recognized from the mirror. Tiny things. Don't leave. Don't let her go. Time travel. Mulder believed it to be entirely plausible. Hell, he'd seen it. He was surprised he hadn't thought of it himself. Change one small thing and your whole life is different. "When I was locked up I was afraid that the project would be aborted," Larry continued. "But my colleague continued the work. And yesterday he visited me with some very intriguing news. He's sent something back. Mind you, it's only a rat. But the possibilities seem to be endless." "Why are you telling me this?" Mulder asked. He was still suspicious of Larry's motives. "Because as I said, you seem as desperate as I am. I thought you might be interested." "Interested in what?" "Well, we've sent a rat. The next logical step is to attempt to send a man." Ah, there it was. Larry wanted Mulder to be a guinea pig in some twisted mad scientist routine. "The catch of it is, the rat's body is still here. It's, well, it's more or less dead." "More or less?" "Well, brain dead. The apparatus transmits the subjects mind, their essence, their soul if you believe in such a thing, backwards in time, into the body they once inhabited." This really was starting to sound like the most implausible thing Mulder had ever heard. It was almost laughable. "So, what happens to the old mind?" Larry shrugged in response. Great. That was just great. "We don't exactly have all of the kinks worked out. That's why we need you." Mulder laughed for the first time in nine months. It was the most ridiculous, idiotic thing anyone had ever suggested to him. And it was also his only chance. And besides his meaningless life, he had absolutely nothing to lose. end part one Eleventh Hour (2/11) Mulder woke up assaulted by a variety of pungent smells; dirty sweat socks, old pizza, spilled bong water, unwashed sheets. He had a strong sense of deja vu. The odor seemed strangely familiar. It bore no resemblance to the antiseptic institutional aroma he was used to waking up with. It also bore no resemblance to July 3rd of the year 2000. That's where he was supposed to be. That's where the ridiculous apparatus Larry had put on his head was supposed to have taken him. He wasn't there. And he wasn't here. Where was he? He opened his eyes and looked around. He was in a dump. An absolute pigsty. Worse than his apartment in DC on its worst days. He was lying in a small single mattress on the floor in the middle of a disaster area. A familiar disaster area. He remembered. It was his old room. His room in the house he'd shared with Mark and that other guy...Steven. That jerk Steven. It was the summer after he'd gotten his AB from Oxford. He'd been back in the States for summer vacation and he'd lived with Mark, his only friend from high school. Mark had been something of an outcast at Mulder's school. Almost as much as Mulder himself had been. Mulder had turned into himself for comfort and Mark had turned to drugs, crime and whatever other trouble he could get himself into. They'd gotten along quite well. Mulder had been thrilled when Mark decided to go to college. He'd always been bright if somewhat disturbed. So Mulder had decided to come and spend the summer with his old friend in his new college town. Steve was just some jerk Mark was friends with. The three of them had shared a house in Maryland for the summer. And that was where he was. That was actually where he was. That crazy motherfucker had been right. He was here. Granted here was about 20 years further back then he'd wanted but still, it was unbelievable. He jumped out of the bed and walked to the tiny mirror on the wall. Stupid bowl haircut. No gray hairs. No wrinkles. This was real. He was here. Or he'd gone even further off the deep end. Either way, it was 1982 again. He was twenty one years old. Again. And he wasn't going to meet Scully for another ten years. His momentary excitement gave way to a crushing disappointment when he realized this. He'd only wanted to go back a few months, just long enough to save her, to change that one day, not his whole bloody life. He felt suddenly and completely at a loss. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He didn't want to relive those ten years. They had been miserable. And if he changed even the slightest thing it might backfire and result in his never meeting Scully at all. But still, she was alive. If it was 1982 she was somewhere and she was alive. And that made him feel alive for the first time since she'd died. Even if he never met her in this life he would always know that she existed somewhere. And that was a marked improvement. He looked around the room for something to wear since he had woken up completely naked. There were clothes strewn everywhere but he wasn't sure how to judge which things were dirty and which were *really* dirty. Nothing was clean, that much was clear. He picked up a white T-shirt that was hanging from a chair and a pair of gray sweatpants that had no visible signs of filth on them and threw them on. It was time to go and face his life, no matter how tedious and frustrating it turned out to be. xxxxx Mulder found Mark in the kitchen cooking eggs. It was actually great to see his scruffy face again and Mulder almost felt like hugging him. That wouldn't have gone over too well though. "Morning, want some eggs?" Well, he really was here. Mark saw him. "Um, yeah, sure." He sat down at the kitchen table which was littered with beer bottles and potato chip bags. "So that was some party last night huh?" Party? Last night? Sorry Mark, last night I was in a mental institution. "Uh, yeah, sure was." "You must have a hell of a hangover man." He didn't have a hangover but he was starting to get a headache. Had he really lived like this? "Yeah, yup. Sure do." Mark placed a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Mulder. "Eat this. It'll help." Mulder dug into the meal and was surprised to find himself enjoying it. It was the first food he'd been able to taste since Scully had gone. "So, you psyched for that 4th of July party tomorrow?" Mulder smiled to himself. 4th of July. At least Crazy Larry had gotten the day right. He nodded in what he hoped passed for an enthusiastic way. He never really liked parties. Even then. He had gone to a lot of them that summer though, mostly to humor Mark. If he remembered correctly though, he hadn't gone to the one on the 4th of July. A horrible recollection set in and he suddenly wasn't hungry anymore. He had spent that particular 4th of July on the phone with Phoebe. Talking about her upcoming visit to Maryland. To him. Jesus fucking Christ. That was one thing he was going to HAVE to change. He couldn't bear the thought of two years with that woman no matter what. "It's gonna be great man, totally huge. Lots of freshmeat." Mulder grimaced. Freshmeat was Mark's loving term for freshman girls. He was starting to wonder why he had gotten along so well with this guy. He was a good person inside, Mulder knew, but on the outside he could be a little...crass. "Yeah, there's a pre-college orientation thing this weekend so there should be lots of innocent young ladies wandering about, waiting to be corrupted. Not that you should be thinking about that my man. I keep forgetting that you're taken." He was taken. Ugh. "Yeah well, I'm not sure how much longer that's gonna be the case." "What? She dump your sorry ass already?" "No, actually, I've been thinking about dumping hers." God that felt surprisingly good to say. "Excuse me? Where did this come from?" "I dunno, just something tells me that she's not the right person for me." And that was the understatement of the universe. "She's hot man." "Not really." No way. Mulder knew what hot was now and it was not Phoebe Green. "Well, that's cool. You should enjoy the party even more then." Mulder seriously doubted that. He was sure the whole thing would irritate him now more than ever. And he certainly wasn't about to go trolling for "freshet". But he would go. It wasn't like he had anything better to do with his time. xxxxx Dana was bored. There was no way of getting around it. She was at her first bona fide college party and she was bored off her ass. She absently took a drag off her cigarette, hoping it made her look like she had something to do. And that maybe, just maybe, it made her look older than fourteen. She glanced nervously around for her friend Rebecca again. Rebecca had dragged her here in hopes of meeting some of their soon to be classmates. So far Dana had met no one and Rebecca seemed to have abandoned her. There were so many people here. It seemed like the entire state was packed into this one tiny house. They spilled out onto the lawn and into the pool too. It was the biggest party Dana had ever been to. She found it all very intimidating. She was not generally the most social person in the world. She had managed to make a small group of friends in high school but that was all over now. Once again, she had to start over. At least she still had Rebecca. They had been friends for two years now and they had just moved into an apartment near campus. It was the first time Dana had lived anywhere but her parents house. Her family only lived twenty minutes away but it was still scary and exciting. Kind of like this party. Minus the exciting part. Dana took a swig from the plastic cup of Budweiser she was holding and told herself not to vomit. She was hoping if she managed to stomach enough of the vile stuff this party might get more interesting. Or at least seem to. So far she just felt nauseous. She was suddenly nostalgic for past nights spent with high school friends on the beach, or at someone's house, sitting around and talking about life and boys and other stupid things. That had been fun. Not like this. How was she supposed to get to know anyone in this zoo? How was she supposed to even introduce herself? She felt more lonely than she would have if she'd been alone. Someone bumped into her from behind, interrupting her musings. She turned around to face a large man with a chiseled face and bulging muscles. He looked wasted. And mean. He looked like someone Rebecca would like. But he wasn't Dana's type at all. "Oops. Sorry sweetie." Sweetie? Dana did almost vomit at that. "Hey you look kinda young to be drinkin'. How old are ya babe?" She tried to hide her grimace of disgust. At least someone was talking to her. Or rather shouting at her. "I'm eighteen." "Really? No shit. You look younger. So, you're legal then." He leaned in close enough for her to smell the liquor on his breath. He was starting to make her nervous. "Actually the drinking age is twenty-one in Maryland." Her new friend burst out laughing. "I wasn't talking about drinking babe, I was talking about fucking." Great. That was just swell. This was actually worse than standing by herself. "Um, look, I've gotta go, I see my friend over there so..." She started to walk away but the man grabbed her arm. "Wait babe, don't go, what's your name? My name's John." "Well John, I really have to go." She pulled her arm from his grasp and ducked behind another huge man. Everyone here was so damned big. Goddamn assholes. She was sick of this stupid party. She wanted to go home. If only she could find Rebecca. xxxxx "God this place is packed." "What?" Mulder raised his voice a few decibels to be heard over the din. "I said it's packed." Mark nodded and grinned. "Great huh?" Mulder smiled weakly. Great. Just great. He wanted to go home already. There were too many people and he was a tad claustrophobic. The music was deafening and the place smelled like smoke, stale beer and vomit. College party. Hooray. Mulder was still pretty happy about his accomplishment from earlier that day though. Phoebe had called as he had remembered to ask when he wanted her to come and visit. What a rare treat it had been to tell her that he didn't think she should come at all. That maybe, if he felt like it, he'd give her a call when he was back in England. She'd seemed more shocked than crushed. Her little puppy wasn't sniffing around her feet anymore. All in all it had been a delightful conversation and he was still feeling a little giddy from it. But not giddy enough to make this situation livable. It was worse than he even remembered it. He wished that Scully were there. They would have spent a few minutes laughing at the drunken morons and then slip off to some quiet restaurant. Maybe watch the fireworks in the park. He sighed sadly. Scully was years away. He had this to deal with first. He started looking around for the keg. There was no way he'd live through this night without at least a drink or two. He waded his way through throngs of people and eventually found the kitchen. There were a bunch of guys standing around the keg having a belching contest. Lovely. He got himself a drink and stood against the wall, observing the frantic activity around him with disinterest. Some people were dancing. Others were shouting in each other's ears, trying to communicate he supposed. Some people were just collapsed on couches in chemically induced stupors. "Get a load of that one." It was Steve. He was pointing rudely out the kitchen doorway at what Mulder could only assume was a piece of "freshmeat". He glanced in her direction. She was pretty in a traditional sort of way. The sort of way Mulder might have been bowled over by before he met Scully. She was tall with long legs, long curly brown hair, lots of makeup, and skinny as a rail. Yeah she was his type all right. Back when he'd had a type. But he was more intrigued with her friend. She was talking to a smaller girl whose head was turned slightly away. He could tell she was pretty though. She had long wavy red hair that hung almost to her hips. She was wearing baggy clothes which only served to accentuate how tiny she was. She looked very young. Too young to be drinking that beer and smoking that cigarette nervously. She also looked very unhappy. She seemed to be telling her friend something urgent. Probably that she wanted to go home. It was certainly a sentiment Mulder could relate to. She was cute. There was something about her. He couldn't stop looking. "Pretty hot huh?" "Which one?" "Which one? Are you kidding? The babe not her little sister dude. Man you're sick." Mulder shrugged. Maybe he was. Then she turned. She was walking angrily away from her friend, or big sister, right in Mulder's direction. And he saw her face. And he saw her eyes. And he died. And he was reborn. It was her. God, it was her. He was paralyzed. He couldn't move or speak as she stalked towards him. He could only stare. Gape. She pushed through the crowd and eventually past him. She seemed to him to be moving in slow motion even though she was probably walking very fast. She brushed against him as she stormed away and fixed him with a ball breaking glare. The way he was looking at her must have bothered her. She scowled at him again and moved through the back door. And then she was gone. It was definitely her. And he had no idea what to do. Should he follow her outside? Try to talk to her? The very thought sent tremors of excitement through his whole body. But what if that screwed things up? What if he screwed things up? What if he destroyed her life all over again? For the first time he thought maybe he should just stay away entirely, save her from the misery of ever knowing him, let alone being killed because of him. He told himself to stay away. At least until it was time. But he knew that all the guilt, all the self-reproach in the world wasn't going to be enough to keep him away in the long run. He needed her. God how he needed her. And this time he would do it right. He would take care of her this time. No one was going to hurt her ever again. Including him. And as soon as it looked like he was hurting her, he would be gone, out of her life forever. He just wanted to talk to her. Just this one time. Just tonight. Just tonight. end part two Eleventh Hour (3/11) "Goddamn stupid party. Stupid fucking people." Dana worked her way through the crowded lawn, cursing this place, her life, and anything else that popped into her head. Eventually she found a quiet spot on the far side of the lawn. She was far enough that she could barely see the party and it was so dark there that no one could see her. She sat down in the grass and lit another cigarette. She was smoking way too much tonight. It seemed to be the only thing keeping her even remotely calm. For some reason as she sat there, her mind drifted back to the strange man she'd run into on her way out. He was the only person who'd even made the slightest impression on her in this hell hole. Maybe it was because he'd been staring at her like a lunatic. Or maybe it was his eyes. The way they seemed to penetrate her very soul. Or maybe it was just that he was damned cute. But he was here. He was at this party from hell and that was enough to make her hate him. But still, he was in her head and he wouldn't leave. He seemed almost familiar but she knew she had never met him. She would have remembered those lips. "Whatcha doin out here all by yourself?" She jumped, startled, and looked up. It was her new buddy John again. Jesus Christ. "I needed some SPACE." She said, hoping he would get the hint. "Oh, I gotcha, sounds like a good idea." He sat down next to her, not getting the hint. John was not too bright apparently. "Actually I was thinking I should get back. I'm sure my *boyfriend* is looking for me." She laughed to herself just saying it. Boyfriend. Right. "Boyfriend huh? Now why don't I believe that?" "I don't know John but you should. He's a marine and he gets really jealous. He wouldn't be too happy to find you out here with me so..." He grabbed her arm. Tight. Too tight. "Yeah, okay, your marine boyfriend. Why don't you just drop the bull and sit here with me. I won't bite. Unless you want me to." She pulled at her arm but he had a steel grip. He wasn't going to let her go. She felt a panicky feeling start to rise in her chest and told herself to calm down. She could handle this. She could handle anything. "C'mon babe. Don't play hard to get. What are you shy?" "I'm not shy and I'm not playing anything. I'm not interested so just let me go." She realized she was starting to sound frantic. She needed to get control back. She tried to stand but he pulled her back down and pushed her to the ground. He was so big, so much bigger than her. Her brother Bill probably wouldn't have been able to take him. How was she supposed to? She felt the burn of tears beginning in the back of her throat. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't let him see her cry. But he was on top of her. He was on top of her and he was so heavy and she couldn't breath and he was kissing her. God, he was kissing her and he was disgusting and huge and she felt the tears start to fall despite her efforts. He had her pinned to the ground, his hands holding her wrists and she knew what was coming, she knew what was going to happen to her. There was no one to help her, or even hear her if she cried out. She was alone. He started to touch her more forcefully and grind his body against hers and she used the one weapon she had, her teeth. She bit down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood. But this only seemed to make him angrier. He freed her wrist long enough to smack her across the face and rip open her blouse. She wished she had a gun. She wished she had a marine boyfriend. She wished she'd never come to this god awful place. And then she started to pray. xxxxx Where the hell had she gone? Mulder looked through the crowd on the porch, the lawn, the pool. He'd looked everywhere. She must have gone home. If she had he might never find her again. He needed to keep looking. He left the more populated area and moved towards the empty parts of the lawn. Maybe she'd come out here to be alone. If so she wasn't likely to be pleased to see him. But at least he could look at her. At least he could see her eyes, her life. That would be enough for now. He kept walking until he reached the outskirts of the lawn. He was far away from the party now and there was still no sign of her. Then he heard something. It sounded like a muffled scream. It sounded like a woman. He started running towards the sound but it was so dark. He could barely see where he was going. He was only a few feet from the fence at the end of the yard when he saw them. It was Scully. Scully and some guy. For a minute he was terrified that he'd come across an intimate moment and felt like a total jackass. The man was holding her down and she was writhing under him in a bra and jeans. He watched them for a moment, trying to judge the situation. It looked like she was struggling but she could have just been excited or something. He couldn't be sure. Then he heard her again. A tiny whimper. One word. No. "Get off her!" He grabbed the back of the guy's shirt with both hands and pulled as hard as he could and then delivered what he hoped was a strong kick to his middle section. It was enough to make him fall beside Scully. The guy looked confused for a minute. Then angry. "Hey buddy, mind your own damn business okay." He stood up to face Mulder and, he supposed, intimidate him with his height. Mulder was too furious to be intimidated. He balled his fist and hit him across the face. Blood shot out of his nose and Mulder hoped that he had broken it. Luckily the guy was so damned drunk he couldn't even hit Mulder back. He staggered backwards into the fence and Mulder grabbed his throat and pinned him against it. "I think it's time to go back to the party sport." "What the hell is your problem man?" "Do you want more of this?" Mulder demanded, using his free hand to belt the guy again. "I'll kill you I swear to God!" "Alright! Jesus." Mulder let him go and he staggered off in the direction of the house. Mulder turned back to Scully. She was standing with her arms crossed over her chest, giving him that same glare. He walked closer to her and touched her cheek gently. "Are you okay?" She jerked away from his touch. "I'm fine." Oh yeah. It was his Scully all right. He felt like dancing. He felt like screaming. He felt like pulling her to him and never letting go. His Scully. This had happened to her. And he hadn't been around the first time. How far had it gone? Had that man raped her? Why had she never told him? He felt like crying suddenly. Not this time though. This time he was doing it right. But why had she come out here with this jerk in the first place? He felt suddenly and inexplicably angry. Why was she always putting herself in danger like this? "Are you sure? You don't look fine." She really didn't. Her shirt was ripped and there was the beginning of a nasty bruise on her cheek. She was shaking and there were tears streaming down her face. "I said I was fine. I can take care of myself." "Can you?" "Look I was handling it all right. It's none of your business anyway." "Oh yeah, you were handling it great. Why the hell did you come out here with that asshole anyway? What were you thinking?" He regretted the words instantly. He was talking to her as if he knew her. Like he had some kind of claim on her life. The way he would have talked to her in their future. And even then it would have pissed her off. Now it positively infuriated her. "Excuse me? What the hell does that have to do with you? Who the hell are you? You're not my fucking father!" She started to walk away from him. It was the same thing. It was the same fucking argument. He wasn't going to let it happen again. He couldn't let her get away. Not like this. "My name is Fox Mulder. And you're right. And I'm sorry." She turned back to him. That was something. "Well Fox Mulder, for your information I didn't come out here with him, as you know because you were gaping at me when I came out by MYSELF. I came out here to get away from this goddamn zoo but it seems to have followed me so I'm going home." She turned haughtily on her heel and started walking back to the party. He ran after her and started walking beside her. "Wait!" "What?" she scowled. She hated him already. It made him sad but it also excited him. She was Scully. She was invigorating, frustrating, challenging. She was the same woman he'd fallen in love with. And she was here, alive. "How are you going to get home?" "I'm going to find my friend. She drove me here. Not that that's any of your business either." He couldn't help but smile. It was Scully. Scully, he had to stop calling her that. He wasn't even supposed to know her name yet. He needed to ask before he screwed up. "So, what's your name?" She stopped and turned to him. "Look, I am not in the mood for this all right?" "Is your friend that girl with the brown hair? I saw her before. She didn't look ready to leave." She sighed audibly and rolled her eyes. "Oh. I get it now. Her name is Rebecca and she's inside. I don't run interference for her so if you wanna talk to her go do it yourself." She stormed away from him again and he groaned at his own stupidity. Now she thought he was after her friend. What was he going to do wrong next? "No. No, I don't wanna talk to her. I just...I just wanna know your name. And to know that you're gonna get home all right. That's all." He looked into her eyes and prayed that she could see what was there, that she could feel the honesty, the connection. He prayed that she could trust him, that he hadn't lost that. xxxxx He seemed sincere. He seemed to be on the level. He didn't seem drunk. But Dana was still wary. How was she supposed to trust anyone at this place? He had helped her though. For whatever reason. Had he done it so that he could have her to himself and do the same thing? No. That just wasn't right and she knew it. Fox Mulder. He sounded like a spoiled little rich boy. Fox. Whatever. And what the hell was his problem? Acting like her father, acting like what had happened had been her fault. Condescending jack ass, that's what he was. That's what she told herself. Or tried to. It didn't really work. Fox was a cute name. And an appropriate one. He hadn't just been angry before, he'd been afraid for her. He cared. For some reason, he cared. "My name is Dana Scully and I have no idea how I'm going to get home tonight." He smiled at her and dammit he had a gorgeous smile. So sweet, so soft and warm. Damn him. "Well Dana Scully, I am truly sorry about the way I acted before." "No, I'm sorry. You...you helped me. And you're right. I needed it. So um...thank you." That had to be the hardest thing she'd ever said. She was rewarded by an even wider grin, and an even cuter one. She felt her stomach do a little flip flop at the sight. No. Not this guy. Not at this place. "So Dana Scully, you see your friend anywhere?" They had reached the party and there was no sign of Rebecca. She did see John though, sitting in a corner with his buddies, nursing his wounds. He hadn't noticed them yet but Dana was sure that there would be trouble if he did. Fox Mulder may have been able to kick John's ass but he wouldn't be able to handle a whole group of Johns. "No, I don't see her. And I kind of think we should get out of here." She gestured towards John and he nodded in agreement. "That would probably be a wise decision." He led her out of the house and to the front lawn. There were more people out here but she still didn't see Rebecca. "So Dana Scully, what do we do now?" Dana shrugged helplessly. "I dunno. God this is a nightmare." "These parties always are." Well, that was a point in his favor. At least he didn't actually like it here. "Um, yeah I guess. I mean, I don't really know. This is the first one I've been to." "Well, if you're lucky it'll be your last." She smiled for the first time all night. "So, where would you rather be Dana Scully?" "Um...ANYWHERE." He laughed. He had a nice laugh. Why did he have to have such a nice everything? Dana wasn't used to feeling so charmed so fast. "Seriously though, is there something else you'd rather be doing?" There were so many things. She didn't even know where to start. "I'd rather be home. I'd rather be curled up under a comforter with a good book. I'd rather be at the beach or the park watching the fireworks. Actually I'd love to be on a boat somewhere, watching the fireworks over the water." She stopped, suddenly realizing what a boring dork she probably sounded like. She tried to think of something more exciting to say but before she could he smiled sweetly at her and held out his arm. "Well, I don't have a boat but I've got a car. I can take you to the park and we can watch the fireworks. Or I can just take you home if you'd like." She regarded him skeptically for a moment. She should know better than to take a ride from a strange man. Especially after what had just happened. But somehow, somewhere along the line she had started to trust Fox Mulder. She didn't know why but it was a very strong feeling. He may be presumptuous and irritating but he wasn't going to hurt her. She just knew it. Besides, she couldn't really think of another way out of this besides walking the whole way home. An even more dangerous option. Still though, it didn't seem like the greatest idea. "I'd like to go home I think. But um, I can probably find another way. Thanks though." "Another way? Like what?" She glared at him. "Sorry, none of my business again. I just don't want you to be stuck. I'm a Jewish mother. I worry." He was adorable. And he was starting to crumble the last of her resolve. "How about this, how about I let you drive my car home. That way you'll be sure I'm taking you home and not to some deserted alley or something." He held out a set of keys to her. "And if I start acting like a jerk, you can drive us right to the police station. How's that?" That did seem okay. "Well, all right." His face lit up like a Christmas tree. Just for letting him drive her home. Why did he care so much? He better not be thinking he was in for more than the pleasure of her company. Although, the thought that he might want more sent an inexplicable tremor through her body. He led her to his car and she wasn't entirely surprised to see that it was a nice new shiny one. Probably cost a fortune. Spoiled little rich boy. She began running him down in her head again, trying her damnedest to get rid of that stupid tremor. She got behind the wheel and found that she had to move the seat about a foot forward to reach the peddles. She caught him smirking and gave him an icy glare. "I should warn you that I just got my license." He looked a little afraid but mostly amused. "Well Dana Scully, this should be quite an adventure then." end part 3 Eleventh Hour (4/11) Mulder was a little bit terrified. Scully was never much of a driver. She had always made him a little nervous. But this was downright frightening. So far she'd blown three stop signs and practically swerved off the road. He couldn't have cared less. He was with Scully. And he hoped that her apartment was far far away so he could spend as much time as possible with her. She was amazing. He was intoxicated with her all over again. He just stared at her for the first few minutes of the drive. Then he realized he should be talking to her, trying to grab a chance at seeing her again. Just tonight, his brain reminded him. Had that been bullshit all along? Probably. "So, um, do you go to the University?" He felt idiotic asking her a question like that. Of course he couldn't very well ask, do you love me yet? "Not yet, I'm starting in the fall. How about you?" "No, I just finished undergraduate at Oxford and I'm probably gonna start graduate work there in the fall." He noticed the corners of her mouth twitch down. She looked a tiny bit disappointed that he would be gone in a couple months. Just a tiny bit but it was definitely a good sign. "Oxford like England?" He nodded and she looked even sadder. Maybe he'd have to change his plans. "So Fox Mulder, what are you studying at Oxford in England?" He fought back an overwhelming urge to kiss her. "Psychology. How about you? What are you planning on majoring in?" She bit her lip and looked slightly bothered. And very beautiful. Mulder was alarmed to find himself growing more and more aroused. Not that this was any surprise. Talking to her had always turned him on. More than anything ever. "I'm not really sure actually. We don't have to decide till sophomore year so...I dunno, I've been thinking about marine biology." Marine biology?? He tried to mask his surprise. He wasn't sure what he had expected. It wasn't like he knew very much about this period of her life. In fact he knew next to nothing. He supposed he'd always just assumed she had known what she wanted to do right from the start. "That's, that's really interesting. What made you decide that?" It sounded safe too. Maybe he could talk her into sticking with that. "I love the ocean. And I love science." She paused and considered her response. "I haven't really decided though. Not entirely." "Well it sounds really great." She smiled uncomfortably and he dropped it. She obviously didn't like talking about this much. "So, where did you grow up? England?" "No, I grew up in Massachusetts, Martha's Vineyard." "Martha's Vineyard?" She smirked and arched her eyebrow. He could see what she was thinking. Pampered. Rich. Spoiled. He'd seen the look before. He'd forgotten what it felt like. He nodded somewhat guiltily. "What was that like?" "Fishy." She smiled, thank God. "What about you Dana Scully, where did you grow up?" "Everywhere. My dad is in the navy so we traveled a lot. Before Maryland it was North Carolina, and before that San Francisco, before that I think it was Seattle. I...I can't really remember what was before that. Never England though." "Wow, that must have been tough." He saw a flash of sadness cross her face and just as quickly it was gone. "It was fine." Of course it was. She stared silently at the road ahead of her for a moment. And then the inevitable change of subject. "So, what were you doing out there anyway? I mean at the party. Did you follow me out there or something?" This was not a subject he wanted to discuss. "Pretty narcissistic of you to think that Dana Scully, wouldn't you say?" She looked embarrassed and he regretted the stupid comment. When would he stop putting his foot in his mouth? "Actually, I went out for some air. I was getting sick of the party as I'm sure you can understand." "Sorry, I didn't mean to accuse you of anything. I was just, well...I guess I was just curious," she muttered, seeming more embarrassed by the second. "It's okay. I was pretty accusatory myself back there. I really had no right. I'm really very sorry about that. What happened before...it wasn't your fault. You know that right?" She nodded absently, not appearing terribly convinced. "Honestly, don't blame yourself for someone else's stupidity. You didn't do anything wrong," he said, stressing the you in the statement. "Well, whatever. It's over. Thanks to you." She turned to him and smiled and his heart did a flip flop. "You sure it's over? I mean, are you gonna be okay?" "I'm fine. It was nothing. Really." Damn. She was pulling into an apartment complex. He needed to think fast before she was gone. Should he ask for her phone number? Give her his? That seemed so corny, so date like. But how else would he see her again? Should he even try to see her again? She stopped in a space near the building and undid her seatbelt. "Well Fox Mulder, it was nice to meet you." He was sweating, in a total panic. Don't go Scully. Don't go. "It was nice to meet you too. I um...I guess I'll uh...see you around?" She nodded and reached for the car door. She started to open it and he sat there like a moron while his brain screamed at him to do something. Anything. Then she stopped. She turned back to him. "You know, I'm actually not that tired anymore. I mean it's still early and it is the 4th of July. I don't really feel like I've gotten my holiday's worth." This was good. This was very, very good. "Do you, um...do you feel like coming in for awhile? I think I'm gonna watch the fireworks from my fire escape. Not too exciting I know but..." "Yes!" he blurted out idiotically. Calm down boy, he admonished himself. Jesus. "I mean yeah. I mean that would be really nice." She looked like she was trying not to laugh out loud. xxxxx Scully's apartment was very neat, very pleasant. Everything was organized and in it's place. There were even plants. Living ones. And real furniture. He thought of the dump he was living in and cringed. She went to her bedroom to change out of her torn clothing and he looked around the place a bit. He stopped at the bookshelf and perused her reading material. Melville, of course, Shakespeare, Joyce, lots of literature. Some science textbooks. Our Bodies Ourselves? The title jumped out at him and he picked it up and started leafing through the pages. It seemed to be some kind of manual for the female body. Very interesting. The section on masturbation seemed to be very well read. "Learning anything?" He jumped about a foot in the air. "I um...I was just ah..." He fumbled around with the book and eventually managed to get it closed and back on the shelf. "I didn't realize it was ah..." She stood in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest. She looked stern and serious. And not too happy with him. Then miraculously her face softened and she chuckled. Thank God. She was wearing a pair of black leggings and a gray sweatshirt. And leg warmers. Scully wore leg warmers. He felt a little less embarrassed when he noticed that. "Come on nosy face." She led him out to the fire escape which was surprisingly large and comfortable. She set up a few blankets over the rickety floor and there was room for both of them to stretch out and watch the fireworks. Not enough room for there to be more than a few inches between them though. It was perfect. They sat together for awhile in a comfortable silence looking at the lights in the sky. And each other. xxxxx Dana was starting to feel better and better. She had been very shaken by what had happened earlier but she had managed to put it almost completely out of her head by now. Fox Mulder was a comforting presence. She didn't know why but she was starting to like having him around. So much so that she'd taken a huge leap of faith and invited him in here. It certainly wasn't the smartest thing she'd ever done but she hadn't been able to help herself. It hadn't looked like he was going to ask for her number or anything and she'd been afraid that she'd never see him again. Letting him go seemed like a very sad thing to her. So now she was sitting with him on the fire escape, so close that she could smell him and she was starting to wonder what it would feel like to kiss him. She turned to him and found that he was looking right back at her. They both smiled shyly and he reached between them, taking the small cross she wore in his hand. She looked at him curiously, hoping he didn't think she was some old-fashioned religious freak. "This is pretty. Are you very religious?" "K..kind of. I mean I was. I mean...I don't really know actually." How did this guy know exactly what to ask to make her completely flustered? He smiled though, seeming to understand so she continued. "I was raised Catholic and I believed for most of my life but now, I'm just not sure anymore. I mean, sometimes I look around and I feel like there has to be a God because there's so much beauty in the world. And then other times, it seems like there's so much horror, how could God let it happen? And of course I can't ignore the conflicts between the traditional teachings of the church and the scientific facts that I know to be true. And politically, I find myself at odds with the church almost constantly. So...um, I'm really not sure." She finished with a chuckle. Poor guy had opened a real can of worms here. But still he seemed interested and understanding. "So, do you think there's an order to the universe or do you think things happen completely at random? I mean do you believe in fate?" He looked at her pointedly and she felt another annoying tremor. "Well Fox Mulder, I think those are two different questions. I do believe there's an order to the universe but the question of fate is an entirely separate issue." "Okay, good point. So, my question is I guess, do you believe in fate. Do you think there are certain things we're predestined to do, certain people we're predestined to meet, no matter what?" He was still holding her cross, turning it over in his fingers again and again. And the way he was looking at her, she was starting to believe in this fate he was talking about. "What exactly are you suggesting?" "I'm not suggesting anything Dana Scully. Just a simple question." "Well then, I'd have to say no. I don't think I believe in fate. I think we make our own choices and decisions and have the ultimate control of our destinies. I have to believe that. What's the point of even trying if everything's already been decided." She realized suddenly that they were both whispering. And that he was really, really close. "Okay, but don't you ever feel that things are, for lack of a better term, in the stars for you. Hasn't anything ever happened to you that made you think, wow, that was fate. That was more than a coincidence." His eyes moved over her lips and her throat felt very dry all the sudden. "Um...sometimes." Like now. "But still, ultimately I have to believe in free will. I mean..." She was interrupted by a loud crash from inside the apartment. He was immediately on his feet. "What the hell was that?" "I dunno." "Wait here and I'll check." He started to go inside and she followed him. "No way, I'm coming with you." He turned to her with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "Of course you are." He opened the door to the apartment only to find Rebecca rolling around on the floor with some guy. They seemed to have knocked over a lamp in their activities, leading to the crash. "Steve?" The guy got off Rebecca and turned to face Fox Mulder. Apparently they knew each other. "Mulder, what are you doing here?" "What are you doing here?" Rebecca stood up and brushed herself off muttering, "I think it's pretty obvious what we're all doing here." She gestured at Steve and introduced him to Dana. They shook hands awkwardly. "And you must be Rebecca. My name's Mulder." The two shook hands and Dana cringed at the way Rebecca looked him over. She waited for him to do the same thing back to her but he didn't. In fact he turned back to Dana. "See Dana Scully, fate. Your roommate, my roommate, see what I mean?" He whispered it to her and she smiled at what she realized was now their private joke. She liked that. "C'mon Steve, let's leave the kiddies alone." Rebecca took his hand and led him off to her bedroom. Dana couldn't understand how she could just sleep with a total stranger like that. Not that it was a surprise. It happened all the time. She suddenly felt very awkward. Was that what he was expecting from her? Had she given him that impression just by inviting him in? "So, um...is that what people call you? Just Mulder?" "Yeah, usually. I'm not too fond of Fox as a name generally speaking." "Is that what you want me to call you?" "If you'd like. You can call me whatever you want Dana Scully." "Well, if I call you Mulder, you've gotta call me Scully. Gender equality and all that." For some unknown reason this caused him to beam at her. "I can deal with that." end part 4 Eleventh Hour (5/11) July 17, 1982 I haven't kept a journal in years. When I was twelve I had one. Bill stole it and showed it to his friends. That was the last time. Even now I feel some anxiety about putting my deepest feelings down on paper, leaving evidence of what's inside me. But there's really no one who would bother stealing it now. And there is certainly no one I can truly talk to about this. No one who could ever understand. And I need to talk about it. I need to admit it, if only to myself. I'm in love. Wow. It sounds as stupid as I thought it would. Stupid but true. I am in love and it makes absolutely no sense. I met Mulder less than a month ago. We've never kissed, never even hugged, and yet I my love for him fills every moment of my being. The first night I met him, we spent hours talking. Just talking about everything and nothing, watching the sunrise from the fire escape, catching eyes, smiling at each other. When that night was over I knew, I love him. We've spent almost every single day together since then. We've been going to the movies, the park, for long walks and long talks. Sometimes we just stay at my apartment and watch TV and talk all night. I've never had a friend like this. I've never known anyone who I could share my quiet time with like this. And he actually enjoys it. He's not thinking about partying and who he's going to have sex with next constantly. He's thinking about philosophy and science and art and religion and...well everything! He's the smartest person I've ever known. And he doesn't just talk endlessly like most semi intelligent guys. He doesn't try to impress me with his huge vocabulary and knowledge of micro biology. He listens to me, really listens. Not just like a nodding idiot. And I can tell he's really listening because sometimes he will challenge something I've said, and we'll have a an argument, or a debate, and it's fun. It's actually fun. I've never enjoyed arguing with people before. I hate the conflict, the inevitable animosity. But with Mulder it's different. His ideas are so unusual, so different from mine, that it's exciting, invigorating to talk to him. Sometimes he teaches me and sometimes I teach him, but either way, we never walk away angry. Rebecca can't stand him. She thinks he's dark and disturbed. She just doesn't understand his sense of humor. She doesn't understand anything about him. She thinks he is strange and bad for me. I don't care. I don't care what anyone thinks. He is wonderful. He is caring, sweet, funny, gorgeous, brilliant, and the best part is he has no idea that he is any of those things. Well, maybe he knows he's brilliant, he can be a tad arrogant about his mind. But he is adorably self conscious about EVERYTHING else. He makes me feel like there is no one in the world but the two of us. We can be in a room full of people and he will look at no one but me, talk directly to no one but me. He makes me feel special and loved just by being around him. Of course, I have no idea if I am loved. I don't know if he sees me as a good buddy, someone to hang out with for the summer, or if there is more. Sometimes he will touch me a certain way, throw a veiled suggestion at me, but he never follows through. I can never tell if he is serious or just kidding around with me. I would like to find out. He's leaving for England in two months and I need to know how he feels before he goes. I need to know if I will ever see him again. God, it kills me to think that I might not. It's ridiculous. I've known him two weeks and I feel like I can't live without him. Stupid stupid stupid. I keep telling myself he's just a guy, don't get hooked, don't get hurt, and I'm trying, really I am. But I trust him. With my heart even. How can that be? I have to stop writing now because he's on his way to pick me up. We're going into DC to look at the monuments at night. This is the kind of thing he actually likes to do. Unbelievable. xxxxx Mulder was happy. Happier than he could ever remember being. There had been times with Scully when he had been happy but they were fleeting. They never lasted. There was always some crisis or another to interrupt their few moments of peace. This was the longest stretch of uninterrupted happiness he'd ever had. He'd spent nearly every day with her for the past two weeks and they got closer every time he saw her. She was a little different because she was so young but her essence was the same. Beautiful, brilliant, and exciting as hell. The fact that he'd been able to gain her friendship and trust again was the best gift he could have ever received. He was so happy, he almost felt guilty. There were so many things he hadn't told her about his family, his past, everything. he hadn't wanted to burden her with his troubles, the way he had the first time around. He'd wanted to get to know her as a person, to make up for his selfishness, but it didn't seem honest somehow. She'd told him so much about herself and he'd told her virtually nothing. He had started thinking about that when his mother had called. She wanted him to come up for a visit. Just thinking about it brought up a million and one unresolved issues. His father was still alive in 1982. There was so much that needed to be dealt with differently. He wanted to share it with Scully. Worse than those omissions though, Mulder was beginning to feel very odd about not telling Scully how he had come to be here. He wanted to tell her about their past, or future, or whatever it was, together. Not that she was likely to believe him. But he felt like he was lying to her by not telling her. He knew he couldn't live with that for much longer. That would mean telling her about her abduction, her death, a lot of horrible things. He didn't want to scare her. He didn't want to make her think he was a lunatic either. His worst fear was that he would tell her these things and she would never want to see him again. He put these concerns temporarily out of his head as he drove them across the beltway and into the city. He was having trouble concentrating on anything but her at the moment. She was wearing tighter jeans than usual. She usually wore very baggy clothes and he had suggested to her a few days ago, in a way he hoped hadn't made him sound like a pig, that she might wanna wear something that showed off her body a little more. She had looked embarrassed at the time and asked what there was to show off. Lots had been his answer and she seemed to have listened. And her hair. She'd tied her flowing tresses into two braids hanging down either side of her face. Pigtails. They made her look even younger than usual but they were adorable. And he could actually see her face for once. He reached between them and took one of them in his hand. She turned to him and her face was flushed. Was she embarrassed or excited by his touch? She was still such a riddle. "They look stupid right?" "No. They're cute." She grimaced. "Cute is stupid." "No, cute is cute. I like them. You look really pretty." She smiled and blushed again. He pulled his hand away when he realized he was getting an erection. Don't wanna go there, he warned himself for the millionth time. She was so young, the last thing she needed was to be corrupted by his perverted desires. He'd been trying, Lord how he had been trying not to feel them at all. But she was so damned hot. She was Scully for Christ's sake. And he was twenty-one years old again, hormones running wild through his body. He couldn't avoid thinking about it. But he would control himself. He had to. It just wouldn't be right. Not now. Not yet. xxxxx Scully sighed to herself. Why did he always do that? He would touch her, say something sweet and then randomly and suddenly pull away from her. She'd been waiting for the day he didn't pull away for a long time. The day he took her face in his hands and kissed her. Her patience was running out. They didn't have all that much time together and she was starting to think she needed to be the one to make that day happen. The thought terrified her but she didn't know how much longer she could go on like this, not knowing. Mulder found a parking space close to the monuments and they started walking around the city. It was so beautiful at night. She stared at the lights from the buildings and he stared at the sky. They walked side by side and she was struck by an overwhelming urge to take his hand in hers. She jammed her fists deep into her pockets, trying to suppress the desire. When they reached the Jefferson Memorial he turned to her. "My mother called me today." She looked at him questioningly. He'd never mentioned his mother other than telling her his parents were divorced. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" "Not sure. She wants me to come and visit her." She felt instantly territorial. If he went to the vineyard he would be away from her, possibly for days. "Are you going to go?" "Probably. Probably next weekend." Scully tried to hide her disappointment. "What's she like?" "Um..." Mulder gazed towards the sky, seeming to search for an appropriate adjective. "Fragile, she's fragile." Fragile? Scully couldn't imagine having a fragile mother. "How come?" He shrugged and fiddled with the fabric at the bottom of his T-shirt. Mulder didn't talk about his family very often and she hadn't asked but she'd always been curious, and somewhat concerned for some reason. "She's had kind of a rough time. Scully...there's some stuff I haven't told you about. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry or be upset for me because it's not such a big deal anymore. I mean I'm over it but..." "But what?" She was suddenly terrified. "But it's part of who I am and I need you to know about it." She gestured for him to sit next to her on the steps and he did. And then he started talking. She didn't interrupt, just listened to his story. And what a story it was. A story of a missing sister and a bitter father, of emotional neglect, verbal abuse, nights when his father would get so drunk he didn't know what he was doing, nights when he would hit his terrified son and his helpless wife, the guilt Mulder had felt for letting his sister go. It was the saddest thing she had ever heard. She knew he wasn't looking for her pity, he was telling her because it was his life, it helped make him the person he was. He didn't want her to feel bad for him. But she did and it made her cry. He reached over and wiped the tears that were flowing freely down her cheeks. "No Scully, don't cry. Please don't cry. It's okay." "It's not okay Mulder. It's not. It's terrible. I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine what that must have been like." She really couldn't. Her own family was far from perfect. There were times when she'd hated all of her siblings and her father was a stern authoritarian figure who dolled out love and approval like table scraps, but she had never endured anything like this. No one had ever put her down the way Mulder's father had done to him. And as much as her brothers and sister annoyed her, she couldn't imagine the pain and guilt she would have felt if one of them had vanished mysteriously. She took one of his hands tightly in her own. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that." He flashed her a toothy grin. He honestly didn't seem that upset about it. "It's okay Scully. Really, it is." "Okay, but if you ever want to talk about it, don't hesitate. I'll be here." He squeezed her hand in acknowledgment and started to pull away. She wouldn't let go. Not this time. She pulled back. Then she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. His eyes squeezed shut and she took the opportunity to kiss his eyelids. She moved on slowly to his forehead, and then his chin. He was trembling and seemed to be holding his breath. She was so close to his mouth. She paused for a moment to admire the glistening moisture, the fullness of his lower lip. She had to do this. She just had to. She took a deep breath and nervously touched her mouth to his. She pressed gently and for a moment got no response from him whatsoever. Then suddenly it was as if the floodgates inside him came crashing open. He captured her lips and kissed her with an overwhelming passion, a passion she'd never known in her life. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her tightly against him. He moaned against her and his tongue plunged hungrily into her mouth. She began to feel a little dizzy. She'd never been kissed like this, never felt anything like this. It was just a kiss but it was the most emotionally fulfilling, sexually thrilling moment of her life. She was tingling everywhere. She was more aroused than she had ever been before. Her heart was pounding so loud and so fast, it was all she could hear. His hand slipped under her shirt and he started stroking her stomach lightly. His touch felt like fire against her bare skin. How could anything feel so good? She actually cried out into his mouth from the sensation. She never, ever wanted this kiss to end. xxxxx He was kissing Scully. Actually kissing her. God help him, he couldn't stop. It was too good. Too much. There were reasons he shouldn't be doing this but for the life of him he couldn't remember what they were. She tasted so sweet. And the sounds she was making, the way she was writhing around in his arms, were making him absolutely crazy. She was horny as hell. And it was making him hot. Too hot. The angle they were at was becoming a little awkward so she climbed into his lap, he supposed so she could reach his mouth better. It was too much. He gasped as her bottom made contact with the erection straining against his pants. This was bad. But God it was good. And very, very bad. He was going to end up fucking her on the steps of the Jefferson Memorial in front of a group of Japanese tourists if they didn't stop soon. People were already starting to stare. He tore his mouth reluctantly away to try and speak to her. "Scully..." She ground against him and he buried his face in the crook of her neck, biting the skin there to keep from screaming. She grabbed the back of his head and pressed in the direction of her breasts. No. This had to stop. Jesus, it had to stop right now. "Scully." He pulled his head from her grasp and looked at her face. Her skin was red with flush and her lips were parted. She was panting. Christ, she was panting. Her eyes were as wild as he felt. "Scully, we can't...this...here...I..." She laughed breathlessly. "No, I guess we can't. You wanna get out of here Mulder? Maybe go back to my apartment?" She stroked his face and gave him a look he'd been waiting for from her for a million years. "Um, Scully..." He had no idea how much further she wanted to take this. And he knew he couldn't turn her down, no matter how far that was, no matter how wrong it was. "Mulder, I want you. I want to be with you. I want you to make love to me." "Oh...Scully. God." She leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Do you want that Mulder? Do you want me?" He wondered how she could even ask. The evidence of his want was pressing into her backside. "I wa...yes. I want that. I want you. Scully. I want you so much. But I think...." What did he think? He couldn't tell her that she was too young for him, that it wasn't their time yet, that he was a pervert for even kissing her in the first place. She wouldn't understand that. She would think he was rejecting her. But he couldn't take advantage of her in this state. It was probably just overworked teen-aged hormones at work. He needed to give her a chance to cool down, to think about it rationally, and God knew he needed a chance to do that. "I think maybe we should think about it some Scully. Talk about it some." "Talk?" she muttered, starting to place delicate kisses on his neck. "Y...yeah, you know...um, make sure that it's really what you wa..." he broke off into a moan as she shifted against him and licked the sensitive spot behind his ear. She sure wasn't making this easy. "It's what I want," she whispered into his ear. "Scully, you th...think it is bu..." "I don't think. I know." She ran her fingers over his biceps and under the sleeves of his shirt and started kissing his neck more aggressively, licking him and biting. His hands squeezed at her waist involuntarily and he groaned in frustration. "We...we've gotta um, go...away..." A group of teenage girls walked past them on the steps, giggling and Mulder thought he saw a woman covering her little boy's eyes. They really were making a scene here and it was only bound to get worse. "Sc...Scully, gotta go..." She interrupted him with another kiss and he lost himself in it, forgetting where they were and who he was for a blessed moment. He realized there was only one way he was going to get her off these damn steps. He stood up and carried her down. He ignored her muffled protests and the stares of the tourists and took her all the way back to the sidewalk. Then he placed her down on her feet next to him. She looked at him questioningly. "We've gotta go Scully." "To my apartment then?" her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and he almost groaned again. "I dunno, we need...you need...we should think about it a little." He couldn't miss the disappointed look in her eyes, the pout on her mouth. It made him want to sob. He was letting her down again. But in the long run, it would be better for her. They walked through the city and he tried not to touch her, tried not to look at her. Tried to ignore the throbbing need between his legs. He couldn't do this. It wouldn't be right. The more he thought about it the more he knew it to be true. She had only known him a couple of weeks. There was no way she could have fallen in love with him in such a short time and he wouldn't feel right about being with her this way unless he knew that she loved him. She was young and he was a new, exciting person in her life. That was why she wanted this and he refused to take advantage of that. Even though he wanted her more than anything in the world. It wasn't fair to her. Besides that, getting involved with him romantically was bound to hurt her in the long run. That's why he had avoided it the first time around. He ran through the arguments as they walked in the futile not horny attempt. They made sense. They were logical and appropriate. But they didn't make her look any less alluring in her tight jeans and tank top and cute little pig tails, they didn't make all the blood in his body stop rushing directly to his cock when he stood near her, they didn't make him love her any less than he always had and, in the long run, they wouldn't be able to keep him away. Unless she stopped wanting him. Either way, he needed to give her time to decide that this was what she wanted. Or didn't want. It was too soon. She needed time. end part 5 Eleventh Hour (6/11) Scully was also thinking about time. Wasting time. That's what they were doing, walking around, trying not to want each other. And for what purpose? She wasn't about to change her mind. She had thought about this. She had thought about it long and hard. It wasn't a decision she took lightly. She'd been waiting for this. Waiting for the right man and the right time and she was sure now that this was it. It was strange, she had said no to so many boys. Boys she had known for a much longer time than Mulder. But she hadn't loved those boys. She hadn't been sure. She hadn't felt the connection. With anyone else, ever. That connection was strong enough to make her utter a statement she'd never thought herself capable of making. "I want you to make love to me." God, she had actually said that. With anyone else she would have been too embarrassed to ever say those words. She was simultaneously thrilled and frightened that he had driven her to that. By the time they reached Mulder's car she was even more convinced that this was right. She needed to let him know how she felt. That would convince him. If he knew she loved him, he would be okay with this, he would know it was really what she wanted. And maybe, just maybe, he would say it back to her. She was absolutely petrified. She'd never said those words to anyone but her mother and sister. And she'd been certain they would say it right back. She had a strong sense that Mulder did love her. How could any man kiss her like that and not love her? But whether he would say it was another issue. They sat in the car together for a moment in silence. They were alone now. Alone in a dark car. She could hear him breathing. She could smell him. She could almost smell her own arousal. He sat in the driver's seat saying and doing nothing, just staring out the window and into space. "Mulder?" "Sorry. I was just thinking." He turned the key to start the engine but she reached over to stop him. "It's all right. Don't go yet. There's something...I've gotta...I need to tell you something." "Scully..." "It's important Mulder. I need to tell you." He bit his lower lip and continued to stare out the window. He seemed nervous. Even more so. "Mulder I know this is strange. I know that you're not supposed to feel this way so soon after meeting each other. But I can't help it. I just feel this connection to you and it's so strong. I just can't ignore it. And I..." "Scully please!" He looked like he was in pain. He sounded on the verge of tears. And he still wasn't looking at her. He knew what was coming. It was obvious that he didn't want to hear it. But she couldn't stop now, not when she was so close. "I just want you to know that..." "Scully. Don't." He sounded positively frantic, desperate for her to stop. "I love you Mulder. I just...I just love you." She let out the deep breath she'd been holding and turned to him. He squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his head into the back of the seat. Not exactly the response she'd been hoping for. He looked more miserable than she'd ever seen him. He didn't love her. What had she done? God what kind of fool had she just made of herself? Throwing herself at her only real friend, telling him she loved him. He probably never wanted to see her again. He was silent for a long time and she continued to berate herself mentally. What a fool she was, what a total moron. She had ruined everything. Why had she even kissed him? She felt tears welling inside her after a few more minutes of silence and was about ready to ask him to just drop her off at home as quickly as possible. She wouldn't cry in front of him. She wouldn't let him see what he was doing to her. "Scully, you don't." What? She couldn't have heard that right. He couldn't have possibly said that. But he had, and he finally opened his eyes, faced her and continued. "You think you do, maybe you want to, but you don't. Not really. You don't really know me Scully. Not all of me. Not the bad stuff, just the stuff I've let you see. You don't know the kind of person I can be, who I really am." Her total despair was rapidly being replaced by overwhelming anger as he spoke. Her chest tightened and she felt like she might actually strike him. How dare he? How dare he question her feelings, presume to know how she felt better than she did? How DARE he? "You son of a bitch," she growled through clenched teeth. "What?" "I open myself up to you, tell you something I've never told anyone before in my entire life, lay my heart on the table for you to cut to pieces, give you every ounce of trust I have and all you can do is sit there like a jack ass and tell me I'm wrong, that I don't know how I feel. What do you think I am? Some kind of fucking kid? Fuck you!" She was crying now. Stupid bastard had made her cry again. She couldn't remember ever yelling at someone like that. It was supposed to make her feel better but it only made her feel a hundred times worse. "No, Scully, I don't think that. I just don't think..." He reached out his hand to touch her face and she swatted it away. "Fuck you! I don't care what you think. Do you have any idea how hard that was for me? Fuck you." "I have some idea. Scully...please..." "Please what?" He just looked at her with that stupid expression. "Please what damn you!" "I...uhmm." He reminded her of a deer caught in the headlights. Total panic. His mouth hanging open and his eyes wide with terror. She would show him. She had to show him. He was wrong, not her. "You think I don't know what I feel? You think I don't know what I'm talking about? I'll show you how I feel you self-righteous little shit." She took his face in her hands, ran her nails up into his scalp and dug deep into the flesh, and she kissed him. Again. God help her. She didn't know what the hell was making her do this but something told her it was the only way. She kissed him with all the anger and all the love she had in her. She pried his lips apart with her tongue and with a helpless whimper he let her in. Their tongues met in a dance of fury and need. Their tears fell and mingled in each others mouths. She climbed aggressively onto him for the second time and straddled him in the seat. He was hard again and she ground into him wantonly causing them both to gasp. His hands groped in the air blindly before clutching the back of her shirt. The sound of sniffling and panting and moaning filled the car. She felt his tongue touch the back of her throat and she knew that she had him. She pulled back then, breaking the kiss and leaving him open mouthed and breathless. "So. What do you think of that?" she asked, surprised that she could still speak at this point. "I...huumm...Scully..." "Do you still think I'm wrong? Do you think I could kiss you like that if I didn't love you? Even after what you just did?" His mouth opened and closed wordlessly. She grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled on it violently. "Do you? Answer me!" "I...I dunno Scully." Damn him. Damn him to hell. She was starting to hate him. He gave her a goofy grin and spoke again. "I...I do know one thing though. I don't think you would've called me a self-righteous little shit if you didn't love me." Jesus H. Christ. He really was fucked in the head. She knew that. And she loved him. She didn't care. She kissed him again. xxxxx Mulder was not generally the most sane individual. But he was certain that by now, he was certifiable. Again. She wanted to have him, right here in the car. She was rocking against him almost constantly now in a way that was going to make him embarrass himself damn soon if she didn't stop. She was kissing him again with that amazing, talented mouth of hers and running her hands all over his chest and arms. And he was about ready to shoot himself in the head. If he had to pry her squirming little body away from him one more time it was going to drive him over the edge. She was making him crazy. She loved him. She really did. He didn't doubt that for a second anymore. He'd never seen Scully lose it like that about anything. Somehow, she had fallen in love with him. Somehow he had accomplished in two weeks what he had spent nearly ten years trying to do. And it was too much for his resolve to withstand. She loved him. She wanted to make love to him. Who the hell was he to refuse her anymore? He was only hurting her by denying her what she seemed to want so badly. And he had vowed never to see her hurt again. But this wasn't the place for it. Not for Scully. Not in a car in the middle of downtown DC. Not with her back pressed into the steering wheel and her leg crushed between him and the door. It needed to be right. It needed to be special. He felt her hands at his waist, pulling frantically at the bottom of his shirt, and he grabbed them. "MmmScully...no..." "What? What the hell Mulder?" "We..it's...we have to go." He wondered how many times they were going to be forced to repeat this little scene tonight. "Mulder, no. I want you now." She tried to pull her wrists out of his grip but he refused to let her go. God only knew where she was going to try to touch him next. "Mulder what is your problem?" She looked like she was getting angry and upset again. "I just...I want...I..." She was still moving on top of him and he was finding it difficult to speak at all, let alone turn her down again. "What Mulder? Tell me what you want. I'll do it. I'll do anything." Jesus. "Nice. Want it to be nice. Comfortable. Private, Scully." "Mmm...this is nice..." she mumbled into his neck as she started kissing him there again. "N...not...oohh...God...n...nice...e..nough." He pushed her backwards by her arms and into the steering wheel. "Please. Scully...please. Lemme take you home," he panted breathlessly. She took a deep breath and let it out. "Mulder, you are too much of a gentleman for your own damned good." xxxxx As they drove back to her apartment, Mulder prayed that he wouldn't get pulled over. He was driving at almost twice the legal speed limit. His fingers were trembling on the steering wheel. He felt like his entire body was throbbing with need. He couldn't even bear to look over at her. Every time he did she gave him a secret, dirty smile and his fingers twitched anxiously, ready to drive the car into a ditch just to be able to touch her again. He dared to meet her eyes and almost veered off into a tree. She was so beautiful. He was going to take her home and make love to her. To Scully. He was going to make love to Scully. Scully wanted him. Scully loved him. It made him ache. "Mulder?" "Hum?" He was afraid. What was she going to say now? What was she going to do to him next? She was just full of surprises tonight. "There's um...something I haven't told you. Something you should probably know before we do this." He risked another look at her. She looked troubled and nervous. "What is it Scully?" She sighed and looked away from him. "I dunno how you're gonna feel about this Mulder." He couldn't think of a thing in the world that she could possibly tell him to make him feel any differently about her. Not one single thing. He reached between them and took her hand. He intertwined his fingers with hers on top of her thigh. Her thigh was warm. "Scully, it'll be fine. Whatever it is." She bit her lip and squeezed his hand. "Mulder I'm kind of...um...not really very experienced with this. I mean...I'm uh, I'm kind of a virgin." Oh shit. Oh Jesus. He glanced quickly at her again. She was blushing and staring out the window. A virgin? He had thought she might be before tonight but the way she'd been acting earlier, so aggressive and...sexual, it didn't even seem possible. Then he realized, that was for him. That was because of him. She'd obviously never been like that with anyone else before because if she had she sure as hell wouldn't be a virgin anymore. Any other man probably would have fucked her back at the monument for Christ's sake. This was all for him. She wanted to give him her virginity. It made him happy enough to cry. It turned him on impossibly more. But how could he take that from her? "And I'm...I'm not just talking normal virginity here Mulder. I mean I've never...the most I've ever done is give a guy a hand job and that was only a couple times. I've never..." She swallowed loud enough for him to hear it. Her palm was slick with sweat. "I've never even had an orgasm Mulder," she whispered. God. Oh God. Why was this making him so hot? What the fuck was wrong with him? This wasn't right. Not at all. Never had an orgasm? He found the thought almost inconceivable. "Scully..." His voice was unnaturally high pitched. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Scully...I don't...I think...um, maybe this isn't the best idea. I mean, maybe we shouldn't really do this..." Her hand slipped out of his and he saw a tear trail down her cheek. Her lower lip was trembling. Dammit. Goddammit! How many times had he made her cry tonight? It had to be a fucking world's record of stupidity. "Scully..." "Sure Mulder. Whatever. I get it. You don't wanna do it with a stupid virgin. It's okay. That's why I told you in the first place, so you could get out of it if you..." Her voice cracked and she turned completely away from him towards the passenger side window. "Scully, no. That's...God, that's not it. Not at all. Jesus, don't you realize what an attractive quality that is?" He groped around for her hand in the dark but she had taken it completely away. Why did he have to hurt her all the time? When would it finally be enough? "Attractive," she snorted. "Right, so what's the problem then?" "The problem..." He lifted his hand to stroke what he could reach of her face and she jerked away. "Scully, the problem is that I don't want to take something from you that you might not be ready to give. I just want you to be sure. I just..." "Dammit Mulder!" She turned back to him finally. "I AM sure. Why do you have to second guess me like that? I'm sure Mulder. This isn't something I take lightly. I've thought about this a lot and I want it to be you. Why is this all so hard for you to accept Mulder? I'm not a child!" "I...I know that Scully. Look, if, if you want this then so do I but, all I'm saying is we can take it a little slow. I mean, we don't have to do everything tonight." "So...so you still wanna be with me then?" The way she asked him that broke his heart. "Of course I do Scully, of course. I just, like I said, I just think it's okay to take it slow. I mean, there are lots of ways to make love Scully. Lots and lots of ways." She slipped her hand back in his and he felt right again. "I want you to show me all of them Mulder. I want you to show me everything." His foot twitched harder on the accelerator. He was going to come in his pants if they didn't get home soon. "Mulder, how many women have you been with?" God, he didn't even know how to begin answering that question. Who should he include? Only those before 1982 or everyone? Before 1982 was a very short list. Amy from his first year at Oxford and Phoebe. But was it entirely honest to tell her that it was just those two? "Um...two." Not entirely honest but probably less frightening to her than the actual number. It was close enough for now. "Two? Really? That's all?" "Y...yeah." "That's not very many." "Um..." he shrugged and laughed nervously. "No, I mean that's okay. I mean it's good really. It's just fewer than I thought. But I'm glad. I...I wouldn't want you to be too experienced or anything. I mean I...I wouldn't want to have too much to measure up to or anything." "Scully, I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. Nothing. No one has ever been as special to me as you." That was something he could say in complete honesty, no matter what the situation. "Well, I just hope I don't disappoint you." "Oh, Scully," he pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers lightly. "You never could. Never." end part 6