Keywords: None.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX
Chapter Fourteen
XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

They sat on Mulder's couch talking as the hour grew late and 
the sunshine dissolved in a sepia melt across the walls.  
Scully tucked her legs under her skirt, nyloned toes sticking 
out as Mulder lounged against the other end of the sofa.  The 
Indian summer breeze wafted in through the open windows.  
Mulder served iced tea in tall glasses.

He told her a little bit more about his adventure in New 
Orleans:  "Rentham said the men in charge didn't want to let 
him go.  I think... I think they may have murdered his wife." 

"Did he explain what his role was in the testing?"  She 
waited, tense, remembering the tingle of Rentham's hand on 
hers.

Mulder hesitated just a beat.  "No.  He didn't have a 
chance."

Later, she told him about seven little girls whom she had 
reassembled like jigsaw puzzles:  "Eames said he gave up the 
bodies so he will have a clean conscience.  Mulder, I don't 
know how you could ever relieve the weight of all those 
bones."

"At least now their families can have peace," he said.  
"That's something."

"I guess," she said, trying to believe it.  "I saw some of 
the families at the burial sites, Mulder.  They looked 
anything but peaceful."

"Peace will come later," he replied, and she wondered if he 
still saw Samantha every time he looked up at the stars.

At dusk, Mulder fetched another round of tea from the kitchen 
and returned with a silver bowl full of pretzels.  He set the 
bowl between them and propped his feet on the coffee table.  
"So," he said.  "How did it go today?"

"Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Well, the X-files have always made for good courtroom 
drama."

He winced.  "I was worried about that."

"Don't," she said easily.  "It wasn't that bad.  Bellamy can 
mock me all she likes, but in the end, the evidence will 
speak for itself."  She paused.  "That's thanks to you."

Mulder looked embarrassed as he studied the ice cubes in his 
glass.  "I'm just sorry I couldn't have been there."

The words needled at her, making her flush, and she searched 
herself to figure out why they bothered her so much.  Mulder 
was just being kind.

"I'm sorry about that," he mumbled again, and she had her 
answer:  since the rape, Mulder had been apologizing to her 
almost every time he opened his mouth.

"Mulder..."  She shifted so her position mirrored his, 
shoulder-to-shoulder with their feet on the table.  "You know 
what happened to me wasn't your fault, right?"

"I know that," he said too quickly.

"Because I would hate for you to think that."

"I don't."  She watched him sideways while he swallowed 
several gulps of tea.  It occurred to her that, in four 
months, she had never once asked him how he felt about what 
had happened.  The thought that she could ask him now, and 
worse, that he might answer her, made her pulse spike.   Her 
arms and legs became rubbery.

"Mulder, what do you think?"

He froze with the glass at his lips.  "Huh?"

"About what happened."  She steeled herself.  "About the 
rape."

"I think it's horrible, Scully.  You know I would give 
anything to change what happened to you."

"Yes, but I mean aside from that."

Mulder looked at her as though she were laying a trap.  "I 
don't know what you mean," he said carefully.

Her heart slammed against her ribs like one of those caged 
nightclub dancing girls.  "You can tell me the truth," she said.  
"Really.  I know the images you must have.  I know it must 
be-"  She faltered.  "Off-putting.  I can understand that, I 
can."

"What?  God, Scully.  No."  He set down his tea and faced 
her. 

"Mulder, please.  You don't have to protect my feelings on 
this.  I know we're supposed to be enlightened and modern 
about the whole ordeal, but truly, it's *not* just like being 
mugged or carjacked or whatever else, and I would prefer we 
just acknowledge that out loud."

"Scully, you've got it all wrong."

"Texas," she said, and shut him up fast.  They stared at each 
other a moment, and then Scully took a deep breath.  "I don't 
blame you, Mulder.  If you feel weird, I think that's 
normal."

He ducked his head.  "You're wrong," he said again.  "I don't 
associate you with what happened, Scully.   I'm not... put 
off.  Quite the opposite."

The opposite.  She turned her drink around and around between 
her hands and considered his words.  If he wasn't put off, he 
was... turned on? 

As realization dawned, she looked over at him.  He seemed 
like he was wishing the couch would suck him in like a sofa 
bed.  "Mulder?"

"It's, uh, not like that," he said in a rush.  "No."  He 
shook his head emphatically.  "I hate what happened to you.  
I hate it so much I can't breathe when I think about it.  But 
I went there, Scully.  I stood where he stood, and god help 
me, when I think about what happened I associate with *him*."

"You're not him, Mulder."

"I'm not even talking profiler, here, Scully."  He looked at 
her, dark eyes intense, his mouth set in a straight line.  
She forced herself to listen.  "I mean, I know what it's like 
to watch you and want you.  I know *exactly* what that guy 
was thinking when he was looking at you from the bushes.  
Seven years, god, the frustration -- sometimes I thought 
about just reaching out and... and..."  He grabbed weakly at 
the air with both hands.

"Taking me?"

Mulder's hands fell.  "Yes."

"Well," she said.  "Me too."

He blinked.  "What?"

"You think you have the market cornered on sexual 
frustration, Mulder?"  She smiled.  "There was one time you 
came into my motel room after a shower and you flopped down 
on the bed all damp and, well, naked."

"I was never in your motel room naked."

"Near enough.  I wanted to rip the towel right off of you."

"It's not the same," he protested.  "Scully, I wanted to do 
you up against the filing cabinet whether you wanted it or 
not."

"I think we've established by now that I did want it, 
Mulder."  

"You don't understand," he said, sounding miserable.  

She stopped teasing. "Explain it to me," she said as she 
rubbed his arm.  "Because I'm not hearing anything so far 
that would give me reason to doubt your good character."

Mulder would not look at her.  "Well, for one thing, I've had 
this fantasy."  Haltingly, he told her of an explicit 
scenario that started with an argument in the basement and 
moved to forceful sex up against the wall.  "You said no," he 
told her quietly.  "I didn't even care."

She leaned her cheek on his shoulder and hugged his arm.  
"It's a fantasy," she told him.  "Fantasies aren't real.  You 
know they're not."

"But after everything--"

"Mulder, I'm not afraid of you."  She squeezed him again.  
"I'm not afraid of your fantasy, either."

"It doesn't make you sick?"

"No.  It makes me want to get a file cabinet for my bedroom."  
He looked at her, and she smiled and cupped the side of his 
face.  Her thumb grazed over his stubbly cheek.  "Mulder, 
you're nothing like Gregory Watts.  You never will be."

"No," he murmured, looking into her eyes.  He covered her 
hand with his own.  The corner of his mouth twitched.  "You 
wanted to rip off my towel, huh, Scully?"

"More than once."  They leaned foreheads together.

"Whenever I flopped on your bed, I always thought you wanted 
to shoot me."

"More than once."

He laughed and hugged her tight. 

XxXxX

The day of the verdict, Scully went back to court.  Once 
again, Glory waved to her from the gallery.  "Saved you a 
seat," she said as Scully approached.  "Hey, this is my mom.  
Mom, this is the FBI agent I was telling you about."

Glory's mom had tight jeans and long red fingernails.  Her 
hair was tinted blonde like her daughter's.  "Pleased to meet 
you," she said, giving Scully's arm a good workout.  "I came 
to watch the bastard fry."

"I'm afraid that's not going to be an option," Scully said as 
they sat.

Glory rolled her eyes.  "I keep telling her that.  Maybe 
she'll listen to you."

"Well, it ought to be an option," her mother retorted.  "At 
the very least they ought to take his pants down and fry his 
little--"

"Mom!"  Glory slouched in her seat.  "I apologize for my 
mother."

"Not necessary," Scully said.  She leaned across Glory to her 
mother.  "I quite agree."

The room quieted a bit as the judge entered.  Scully could 
only see the back of Watts's head at the defense table, but 
the slump of his shoulders suggested that he was not 
optimistic about the outcome.  Nora Bellamy was 
uncharacteristically subdued as the jury filed into the room.

The judge read the verdict and handed it back to be read 
aloud.  Glory grabbed her mother with one hand and Scully 
with the other.  Scully squeezed back.

The foreman read the verdict:  "We find Gregory Thomas Watts 
guilty of ten counts of forcible rape," he said, and both 
Scully and Glory let out a breath.  Scully barely heard as 
the jury found Watts guilty on a slew of lesser charges.

"We did it," Glory whispered.  Scully nodded.

Behind the defense table, Greg Watts's parents looked quietly 
devastated.  Scully wondered if it was because they had lost 
the case, or whether they finally realized they had raised a 
monster.

To bring a child into this world, she thought, and have him 
go forth and do evil.

Mrs. Watts put her hands over her face and wept.

XxXxX

On the first morning of his forty-first year, Mulder awoke 
and considered his brave new world.  Forty, he thought, and 
feeling fine.  He headed to the living with his toothbrush 
still sticking out of his mouth and stopped in front of the 
fish tank.  Woodward and Bernstein swam to the top, eager for 
their breakfast.  "Morning, boys," he said around the 
toothbrush.  "I'm forty today."  They did not pause from 
their eating.

Mulder was about to start coffee when he noticed something on 
the floor by his front door.  It was an envelope.

Mulder looked around the room for anyone who might have put 
it there, and then ambled over to pick it up.  There was no 
writing on the front.  Shadowy informants sometimes slipped 
him newspaper clippings or phone numbers this way, but this 
felt a bit heavier.  Maybe they had gone all out for his 
birthday at "Conspiracies R Us."

Mulder lifted the flap and found an airline ticket inside.  
To Las Vegas.  With his name on it.  Still with the 
toothbrush in his mouth, he yanked open his front door and 
peered down the hallway.  It was empty.  He was in the 
process of checking the flight information on the ticket when 
his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Happy birthday," Scully said from the other end.

"Scully, you're not going to believe what I found under my 
door this morning.  Some stranger just slipped me a ticket to 
Vegas."

"What a coincidence," she replied, deadpan.  "I seem to have 
a ticket for that exact same flight."

"Really?  But how do you know which flight..."  He paused.  
"Scully?"

"Howdy, stranger," she said, sounding pleased. 

He smiled and looked down at the ticket again.  "Why Vegas?"

"I figured our luck was due for a change."

XxXxX

They touched down in bright Vegas sunshine, desert dry and 
warm in the early fall.  They could have been anybody, in 
their casual clothes and dark shades, but they weren't.  They 
were Mulder and Scully, embarking on a tentative foray into 
happiness in a town where the lights in the sky came courtesy 
of the casinos and the only alien around was Wayne Newton.

Scully checked them into the Bellagio hotel, which featured a 
marble desk that stretched for about a mile.  A huge skylight 
covered with stained-glass flowers decorated the ceiling, and 
the air conditioning wafted the fragrant smell of the indoor 
garden throughout the lobby.

Their room was done in peach and tan fabric, with thick 
carpet and a view that looked out over the front of the 
hotel.  Mulder grinned when the fountains shot up thirty feet 
in the air.

"I could do the backstroke in this tub," Scully called from 
the bathroom, and Mulder walked over hoping for a different 
kind of water show.  But alas, she was just fixing her hair.

He met her gaze in the mirror.  "Well, Mulder," she said.  
"We're here.  What do you want to see first?"

He grinned.  "Everything."

XxXxX

Scully knew she had made the right choice as they walked 
along the strip and Mulder pointed out one spectacle after 
another like a little kid in neon sign store.  She mocked a 
woman wearing a T-shirt that read, "Kisses: 25 cents," and so 
Mulder promptly bought her one.  She promised never to wear 
it.  In revenge, she purchased him a baseball cap that had 
giant hands attached, which one could clap together by 
pulling on a string.  Sadly, he wore it immediately.

They wandered in and out of casinos, admiring the lions at 
MGM and the faux volcano at the Mirage.  Mulder won ten 
dollars at video poker.  

"I know just what to do with it, too," he said as they walked 
on.  The sun had disappeared and Vegas flickered to life.

"What?" Scully asked, fearing another shirt.

"That."  He pointed at the enormous roller coaster that 
encircled the New York, New York casino.

"Okay," Scully said.  "Have fun!"

"Scully..."  He tugged on her hand.  "It's Vegas.  Live a 
little!"

"Life, yes," she agreed.  "That's my concern here, and I 
would like to hang on to mine."  The track looked impossibly 
narrow, and at least part of the ride was spent upside down.

"It's my birthday," he said. 

Scully hesitated.  "I don't know..."

He grinned, knowing he had her, and tugged her hand again.  
"Come on, Scully.  I want to hear you scream."

In line, she eyed the cars hurtling past while Mulder rubbed 
his hands together with glee.  "You know, studies show that 
roller coasters are like the ultimate dating tool," he said.  
"Horror movies aren't bad either."

"As long as we aren't mixing the two," she said, still 
watching the plummeting coaster warily.

"Fear promotes attraction.  The brain takes the intense 
emotion and interprets it as lust."

Scully figured this explained some things about her life over 
the past seven years.

At last it was their turn to climb on board.  "I hate you," 
Scully said clearly as the car started forward.  The wind 
tangled her hair.

"See?" Mulder yelled.  "Intense emotion!  It's working 
already!"

Anything else he said was lost in her scream as they hit the 
first drop.  Scully gripped the rails and shut her eyes.  She 
heard the metal wheels rattling along the tracks, the wind in 
her ears, and beside her, Mulder laughing the whole time.

XxX

They cleaned up for dinner.  Because it was his birthday, not 
hers, Mulder did not wear a suit and tie.  He dressed in dark 
pants and a crisp white shirt open at the collar.  Because it 
was his birthday, not hers, Scully wore a short, skin-tight 
black dress with no back and her three-inch spike heels. 

His warm hand grazed down her bare spine as they walked to 
dinner, and Scully tingled.  "Hungry?" he asked.

"I think I left my stomach back on top of the Empire State 
Building."

Mulder, it turned out, had no such problems.  He put away a 
starting course of crab-stuffed mushrooms, a steak as big as 
his head, three glasses of wine, and over half of the 
breadbasket.  Scully had a spinach salad with sugared pecans 
and crumbled bleu cheese, and a nice piece of fish.  She did, 
however, manage to keep pace with him on the wine.

"Is this the part where the waiters sing 'Happy Birthday'?" 
he asked, leaning across the table as one of the tuxedoed 
wait-staff whisked their dinner plates away.

Scully regarded him over her wine glass.  "If you wanted a 
birthday serenade, Mulder, you should have picked a 
restaurant with a clown on the outside."

"I'll settle for a birthday dance then," he said, and held 
out his hand.

Scully glanced at the dance floor and listened to the 
stringed music being piped in; it did not sound too fast.  
She guessed she could manage the mix of music, high heels and 
alcohol, at least for one dance.  Mulder's strong hand caught 
hers and helped her to her feet.  She followed him in silence 
across floor.

The found a shadowed corner for themselves, and his palm once 
again pressed against her bare back.  She placed her hand 
lightly over his bicep and tried not to flush.  "Thank for 
this," he murmured as they swayed.

"It's just a dance, Mulder."

"No, the whole trip.  I don't know what I did to deserve it, 
after everything that's happened, but I'm grateful 
nonetheless."

"Mulder-"

"Just listen for a sec, okay, Scully?  I know these last four 
months have been absolute hell for you, and I know I didn't 
always do everything I could to make them easier.  The fact 
that despite it all, despite the big mess we've made, you'd 
still want to be here with me, tonight..."  He grinned.  
"Dressed in that outfit..."

"Mulder."

"It means the world," he said, sobering.  "So thank you."

Scully blinked rapidly and managed a wobbly smile.  "Mulder," 
she said, "the fact that you still want to be here, with me, 
tonight, after everything that happened, is *exactly* what 
you've done to deserve this."

He pulled her closer, and she kissed his neck.  "So thank 
you," she whispered.

XxX

The door to their room swung open, and Mulder and Scully 
stumbled in, still attached at the mouth.  Mulder did not so 
much carry her across the threshold as drag her there, with 
her shoes scraping the carpet the whole way.  She backed him 
up against the wall, climbing him like he was her own 
personal jungle gym.  Mulder's hand found its way under her 
dress to her ass to help her out.

She felt his arm muscles, hard under his shirt, supporting 
her like she was nothing.  His fingers splayed over her ribs, 
and she hugged his waist with her knees.  Kissing.  God, 
she'd missed kissing him.  He smelled like cotton, like skin, 
like sweat.  He tasted like wine.  

Scully ran her hands through his hair, feeling his warm scalp 
and the tender skin behind his ears.  Mulder made agreeable 
noises against her mouth and kept her busy with his tongue.

Breathless, she broke away and pressed tiny kisses along his 
throat.  Mulder hugged her.  Scully leaned back to smile at 
him, and found him staring back at her with huge dark eyes.  
He was smiling, yes, but he also looked a little bit scared.  
She placed her palms on the wall behind him.  He licked his 
lips.

"Mulder," she said softly, "you know we don't have to do 
anything you don't want to do."

"That's supposed to be my line."

She pushed some hair back from his forehead and smiled.  "You 
can say it too, if you want."

He thrust his hips at her.  "Does that feel like I want to 
stop?"

No, thank God.  Scully grazed her lips along his cheek, his 
jaw.  She remembered things could change.  "Just... no 
pressure," she said into his neck.  He rubbed the back of her 
head.

"No pressure," he agreed.  They held each other for a long 
minute, and then Scully eased herself to the floor.  She took 
his hand and led him in the direction of the giant bed.  He 
stood close, his breathing shallow, while she slipped off her 
sandals.  When she was done, she stretched up and took his 
face in her hands, bringing him down to her mouth for another 
lingering kiss.

"Happy birthday, Mulder," she murmured as they rested their 
foreheads together.  His fingertips glided over her shoulders 
and down her arms.  Her nerve endings sparked like the Vegas 
lights.  They stood there, her arms loose around his waist, 
his hands stroking her.  She placed her ear over his heart 
and listened to the erratic beat.

He nudged the straps of her dress down.  "I am dying to know 
what you're wearing under this thing," he whispered into her 
hair.

"Not a whole lot."

"So I am discovering."  His thumbs slid up her ribs and 
glided over the swell of her breasts.  Scully tugged his 
shirt free from his pants and giddily devoured the naked skin 
underneath.

He kissed her.

Scully's heart picked up speed with each article of clothing 
that they lost.  Mulder stood mostly naked before her, 
erection obvious through his boxers.  She was half afraid to 
touch it for fear of scaring it away.  His hand reached 
around her ass again, fingers toying with the edge of her 
underwear.  She could feel the tension in him.

"Mulder?"

"I, uh, I brought the condoms," he said.  "They're in my 
bag."

She kissed his chest.  "It's okay."

"Yeah?"

It did not make for the most romantic chitchat, but she owed 
him the full truth.  "Watts had to give a blood sample for 
the DNA test before trial, and they tested it for HIV.  He's 
clean."

"Scully, that's great."  Mulder hugged her.  "Really great."

"Yeah," she said from where she was smushed against him.  "So 
lose the boxers, G-man."

"Yes, ma'am."  And so Mulder took off his clothes.  Scully 
followed suit and joined him on the down-turned covers.  He 
gathered her into his arms for some more kissing, his thigh 
slipping lazily between hers.  Her body felt hot and heavy 
with desire.

She touched the smooth skin over his hips and the long plane 
of his back.  Mulder put a couple of inches between them so 
he could stroke between her thighs.  She jerked at the first 
contact.

"Okay?" he asked, somewhat worried.

"Yes," she hissed between gritted teeth.  It was all she 
could do not to thrust down on his hand.  She closed her 
eyes.  She could feel him watching her as he worked, her 
nipples hardening.  Her breath came high and fast.

"Scully," he said, a whispered word over her mouth.  She 
grabbed him and kissed him hard.  

More, more, more, she thought, dizzy and hot and almost, 
almost there.  Mulder worked a couple of fingers in and out 
of her, his thumb on her clit and his tongue in her mouth.  
He was in her and on her and everywhere and she never wanted 
to leave him again.

"Oh!" she gasped as the waves started.  She clutched him 
tight, arm around his neck as she arched up from the bed.  
Mulder said something in her hair but she didn't understand 
him.  "Oh," she sighed again a minute later, breathing hard 
as the world came back into focus.  Mulder lay half on top of 
her, kissing her temple.  His erection poked her belly.  She 
stretched to kiss his lips.  "Mmmm," she said, figuring that 
covered everything she was feeling right then.

Mulder chuckled.  "Liked that, did you?"

"'S not even my birthday," she replied, hugging him.

Mulder was quiet.  "Well, at least this way you won't be 
disappointed, no matter what," he said at last.

Scully drew back and looked in his eyes.  "Mulder," she said, 
toying with his hair, "you have *never* disappointed me.  
Never."

He smiled like he didn't quite believe her.

"Never," she repeated, rolling him on top of her.   She 
stroked his brow, his arms, his chest.  He smiled down at 
her.

"So, Scully, when people ask me if I got lucky in Las 
Vegas..."

"Well, Mulder..."  She smiled.  "Let's just say luck is lady 
tonight."

He held his breath as he pushed inside her.  When he was 
fully in, they both relaxed.  "Good?" he asked, still 
anxious.

"Very."  She ran her hands up and down his back.  They kissed 
as he began to move.  Scully caught his rhythm and lay back, 
enjoying the thick feel of him sliding in and out.  Mulder's 
breathing accelerated.  He got that faraway look in his eye 
that made her feel powerful and tender all at once.

"Scully?" he said uncertainly.

"I love you," she said near his ear, and he was lost.

XxXxX

At the end of October, Gregory Watts was sentenced to ninety 
years in prison.  That night, snuggled against Mulder on his 
couch, Scully watched Watts on the news.  He looked blank 
with terror, as if he might just pass out in the courtroom as 
the judge passed sentence, as if the enormity of the 
situation had dawned on him at last.

"He's just sorry he got caught," Mulder said.  "I hope they 
throw away the key."

The judge had a few words about how vile the crimes were.  
Scully did not need to listen to that part; she had lived it.  
She eased away from Mulder.

"The food will be ready by now," she said.  "I'll go get it."

They were trying a new Indian place on the other side of 
town.  Mulder caught her hand and squeezed.  "Scully, I can 
go.  You stay here and relax."

"No," she said firmly.  She gave him a quick kiss and stood.  
"You set the table.  I'll be back in a few."

She grabbed her purse, her keys, and her glasses, humming to 
herself as she went out the door.

This time, she took her gun.

XxXxX

~End~

Author's notes:

First, big chocolate-covered Mulders of thanks to my ace beta 
team: Amanda, bugs, Elizabeth and Tali.  The story is 
stronger for your input, thank you!  Bugs had to listen to me 
kvetch and moan on the phone about the story. She also served 
as my "read it in one gulp" beta.  Tali and Elizabeth 
patiently went over it chapter by chapter, spotting my errors 
and offering encouragement.  Amanda, however, gets the beta 
purple heart.  She saw the story line by line and then reread 
it all at once.  She was unflagging in her support for five 
very long, long months.  Yay, Amanda!

Mwah to all you!  Thanks!

Thanks also to those who have come along for the ride.  I 
know this wasn't an easy story. 

If you made it to the end, I'd love to hear what you thought.
I can be reached here:  syn_tax6@yahoo.com

Cheers, syn 

Split the Lark

Feb 2003 - July 2003