Do Not Archive

*** Rated NC-17***

XxXxXxXxX

Chapter Five

XxXxXxXxX


Scully drove back to the station with Eleanor at her side and 
CiCi in the rear seat.  Eleanor spent most of the time 
looking out her window at the passing fields.  In the middle 
of nowhere, they got caught at a traffic light.  Scully 
tapped her fingers on the wheel and longed for the smart city 
lights with sensors.  Eleanor turned her head.  "It must be 
great working with Mulder," she said.

Scully recalled Mulder's anxiety over Eleanor's hero worship 
and chose her words with care.  "I've learned a lot from him.  
He's an excellent agent."

"I know.  I picked up a lot just from watching him for one 
day, and you two have been together for, what, years?"

"Six yes, yes."

"That's a long time to have one partner, isn't it?"

"I've known longer.  And we're not strictly partners right 
now."

"Oh?  What are you?" 

Scully glanced over and saw the intense look underlying 
Eleanor's innocent question.  "We're colleagues," she said.  
"And friends."

"So you were partners but you're not anymore?  What 
happened?"

In the rearview mirror, Scully could see CiCi listening 
intently.  She was silent for a moment.  "Why does it 
matter?"

Eleanor shrugged.  "It doesn't.  I guess you must have parted 
on good terms if he wanted you to come up here with him."

"We haven't--"  Scully cut herself off, snapping her mouth 
closed.  Eleanor had been moody every since their strange 
sojourn into her home, and Scully wasn't about to get drawn 
into some barbed exchange over her relationship with Mulder.  

"I hope he's back with some news on Jasper Cullen," Eleanor 
said a moment later.  "That's our best lead right now."

"Agent Scully?"  CiCi leaned forward from the back seat.  
"Has Eleanor really been right all this time?  Do we have a 
serial killer loose in Woodsbury?"

"We don't have all the facts just yet," Scully replied.  "But 
yes, it does look like Bea Nelson and Shannon Blessing's 
disappearances were related."

"But what about Mark?  He's gone, too."

"We're still working on that angle."

CiCi sat back and pulled all her dark hair off her neck.  
"Makes no sense to me.  Bea was  a little thing, and Shannon 
not much bigger.  But what would anyone want with Mark?"

Scully was saved further grilling as they arrived at the 
station.  Climbing out into the heat, she felt her face flare 
up again.  She feared she would regret not wearing sunscreen.  
Traipsing around Eleanor's field had pinked her arms and she 
was pretty sure her nose was burnt, too.

In the blessed cool and quiet of the stationhouse, they found 
Jimmy Tipton running the front counter.  "Afternoon, Eleanor.  
How'd the search go?"

"Well enough."

Scully still held the bagged beer bottle in her hand.  "Has 
Agent Mulder been by here?"

"Yes, Ma'am.  He and the Sheriff are looking at tapes in the 
conference room."

CiCi and Eleanor followed her to the door, where Scully 
knocked before entering.  Mulder, bleary-eyed with his hair 
on end, looked up.  Sheriff Parker looked equally crazed, and 
the blond young man sitting between them appeared simply 
exhausted.  "Hey, Scully.  This is Christopher Cullen.  He 
was working at the Gas-n-Go the night Bea Nelson vanished."

With a deep tan and a cornfield colored curls, the boy could 
have been starring in American Hero.  He rose and nodded at 
Scully.  "Ma'am."

"We've been going through the old tapes to see if we can spot 
Mark Roy anywhere," Mulder explained.  "So far no luck."

Scully eyed Cullen.  "But you remember serving Bea and 
Shannon?"

"I wish I could say I did.  The truth is hundreds of people 
came in and out during the months that I worked there, and 
unless they looked like they were shoplifters, I didn't pay 
much attention to them.  That's me on the tape that night, 
but I don't remember anyone specifically.  Sorry."

Mulder rubbed his eyes and stood up to stretch.  "Did you 
fare any better?"

"We found tire tracks across the meadow from Eleanor's house, 
like someone might have parked there and watched the place.  
We also found a discarded beer bottle that I'm about to go 
have printed."

Sheriff Parker lurched to his feet.  "I'm going blind here 
from staring at this TV for three hours straight.  Why don't 
we all take a break?"  

Cullen made a bee-line for the restrooms, and Mulder scooped 
up his suit jacket.
"Scully? You want to get a sandwich or something?"

She shook her head.  "No, I want to get this to the lab as 
soon as possible.  I'll check in with you later."

The Sheriff paused in the doorway.  "Eleanor, I'd like to see 
you in my office."

"Sam--"

"Now, please."

Eleanor's cheeks colored and she followed Sam out of the 
room.  Scully looked at Mulder.  "What do you think that was 
all about?"

"Beats me."

Scully moved closer and pitched her voice low.  "Mulder, what 
do you think about Eleanor?"

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, what do you think of her as a person, as a cop?"

He scratched the back of his head.  "She's pretty driven.  I 
don't get the sense that she has much of a life outside of 
the office, and outside of these cases in particular, but 
she's the only one who pushed for a connection on the 
disappearances.  I'd say she's got great instincts."

"Her house is a little strange."

"Strange how?"

Scully looked over her shoulder before answering.  "The 
closet door in her living room is nailed shut."

"Oh."  He took a deep breath and sat on the table.  
"Scully... He raped her.  Did you know that?"

"I read that in the file, yes."

He nodded as if to himself.  "The file doesn't really do it 
justice.  He dislocated her shoulder, maybe when she tried to 
fight him off.  I don't know because she never said.  He kept 
the girls for two or three days shackled to the floor in a 
closet.  The smell -- God, we were sick, all of us."

Scully didn't say anything for a long minute.  "I'm sure it 
was terrible for her."

"I don't think any of us can really know how bad it was.  To 
have to face something like that at such a young age..."

"It can damage you forever."  Scully met his eyes.  "We both
know that."

"Are you saying you think Eleanor's damaged?"

"You have to admit she's wound a little tight."

"I think that intensity is the reason we're here today, one 
step closer to catching a murderer."  He pushed off from the 
table.  "And if a few nails are all she needs to keep her 
demons in the closet, I think she's doing pretty well.  Let's 
face it, Scully.  Not all of us get off that easy."

"I know," she said.  "That's my point."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Eleanor let the door shut hard behind her.  "What is it now, 
Sam?"

He walked behind his desk but did not sit down.  "We have a 
problem.  That beer bottle Scully has?  It's going to have my 
prints on it."

Her mouth fell open.  "Jesus, Sam.  What the hell were you 
doing?"

"I don't know!  I don't know!  I couldn't sleep so I went to 
see you."  His jaw hardened.  "But then Derek Corbett showed 
up."

"You were spying on me."

"I was getting up some false courage.  What the hell was he 
doing at your place last night anyway?  You know I can have 
you suspended for that."

"And I'll have you arrested for trespassing."

"Eleanor..."  He cursed and ran both hands through his hair.  
"This is getting us nowhere.  What we have to do is figure a 
way to get that bottle from Scully."

"It's your privates on the line here, not mine.  That was 
really stupid of you, Sam.  Really stupid."

"Listen, they find out that I was watching your house and 
they're going to want to know what I saw.  I don't think you 
really want me to have that conversation, do you?"  He glared 
at her, and she glared back, defiant.  But she said nothing.  
"I thought not," he said, relaxing.  He looked out the window 
behind her, and she turned to see Mulder and Scully deep in 
conversation and heading towards the door.

"What are we going to do?" she asked, facing Sam again.  His 
expression was grim.

"Go after her," he said.  "And fix this."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Scully parted ways with Mulder but got stuck with CiCi.  "My 
studio is just two blocks from the labs," she said.  "If you 
want these pictures today, I need to get to work."

"Fine, I can drop you."

In the car, CiCi pulled the visor down and started fixing her 
lipstick in the mirror, which Scully thought was an odd move 
for someone heading for a darkroom.   CiCi smacked her lips 
together.  "I'm not kidding about pulling out of the police 
work," she said.  "Especially if there's a psycho on the 
loose.  I mean, who couldn't use the extra money, but it's 
one thing to take pictures of a busted window and another to 
be snapping body parts, you know what I'm saying?"  She 
shuddered for emphasis.

"You normally do family portraits, then?"

"Yes.  I just love working with the kids.  But I don't get 
enough business to keep me going year round.  When Eleanor 
suggested I take on some free-lance work with the department, 
I thought it would be mostly small-time stuff.  No one said 
anything about murder."

"Did you know any of the missing persons?" Scully asked.

"I'd talked to Bea once or twice.  Shannon I didn't know.  
Mark--" She halted, as if suddenly unsure.  "Mark was my 
mailman.  A real genuine guy, real nice.  Sweet as pie.  I 
felt so sorry for him with his sick little boy at home."
 
"What was wrong with his son?"

"Enlarged heart.  They were hoping for a transplant, but Ben 
died last year -- about two months after Mark disappeared.  
It was just awful, the whole thing."

"Sounds like you were close with the family."

"Oh," she sounded surprised.  "Not really.  I talked to Mark 
from time to time, but that was about it."

"When was the last time you talked to him?"

"Why?  Does it matter?"

"Probably not."

CiCi's pink shoulders rose and fell as she sighed.  "Well, 
let's see.  It must have been the Tuesday before he 
disappeared.  I got a package delivered, and we chatted for a 
bit.  It was a scorcher like today, so I had him in for a 
glass of iced tea.  He stayed maybe ten minutes and then went 
off to finish his route."

"How did he seem?"

"Oh, about the usual I'd say."  She paused.  "No, wait.  He'd 
won the lottery.  Yes, a scratch ticket worth two hundred 
bucks.  He said he was going to use it to buy some video game 
system for Ben.  I guess he never got the chance."

"Very sad," Scully said.

"Yes.  This is me up here on the right."  Scully pulled the 
car over to the curb, and CiCi got out.  "Thanks for the 
lift.  I'll have the pictures to you as soon as I can."

Scully said good-bye and continued on to the labs, where she 
picked up her bagged bottle and headed for the door.  Inside 
she found Eleanor already waiting for her.  "Hello," she said 
cautiously.  "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Mulder and Chris Cullen are still running the tapes, and 
there's not much else I can do there, so I figured I'd come 
down here to help you."

Scully set the bag on the counter.  "I think I can manage, 
thank you."

"Really.  You look like you got some sun today.  You sure you 
wouldn't rather sit down for a while, maybe have something to 
drink?  I've done finger printing a million times, so it 
would be no problem."

Scully narrowed her eyes.  "Eleanor, is there some reason why 
you want to print this bottle?"

"Of course not.  I just thought you might like a break."

"Well, I'm fine."  Scully got out the fingerprinting kit and 
removed the paper bag from around the beer bottle.  Turning 
on the strong light, she slipped on her latex gloves and 
tilted the bottle for examination.  Eleanor hovered at her 
elbow.  "Even if there aren't prints," Scully said, "we could 
possibly pull some DNA from saliva residue.  It could come in 
handy if we ever get a suspect."  She took samples with swabs 
before carefully dusting the outside of the bottle with black 
powder.  Prints lit up all over the glass.  "Bingo," Scully 
breathed.

Eleanor bent down to look too.  "Looks like we might get that 
suspect."

"Yes indeed."  Scully removed the prints with tape and stuck 
them on individual cards.  "Now we just have to scan them and 
feed them into the computer."

"Oh!"  Eleanor lit up, as if she'd just had a brilliant idea.  
"I'll do that for you."

"Really, it's fine."  Scully began cleaning up, and Eleanor 
trailed after her.

"No, you see we've got this machine that runs some seriously 
old software; no windows for us.  We keep asking for a new 
system but until the damn thing kicks the bucket we're stuck 
with it.  I can teach you the codes if you want but it would 
be faster if I just ran it myself."

"Fine."  Scully rubbed her temples where they were starting 
to throb.  Too much sun always gave her a headache.  "Be my 
guest."

Eleanor snatched up the prints and went to the back office 
where the computer was.  Scully leaned against the lab 
counter and pulled out her cell phone.  "It's me," she said 
when Mulder answered.  "We have prints.  Eleanor is working 
on the ID now."

"Fantastic.  I wish I could say we've been as productive 
here.  We're about ready to send Chris Cullen home for the 
day."

"No sign of Mark Roy?"

"Not yet, but we have about a half dozen tapes to go.  There 
are holes, too.  We're missing mornings for some days and 
evenings for others.  Plus we only have a little over a month 
of tapes here.  He could have stopped in after Cullen sold 
the place and we'd never know.  Chris was helpful in one 
respect -- we got a lead on the fat guy ogling Bea.  Chris 
thinks he worked at the Super 8 motel down the road."

"Well, that's something at least.  What do you want me to do 
when I'm done here?"

"Break out your straw hat and cowboy boots."

This snapped her out of her fatigue.  "What?"

"We're going to the town fair."

"Why?  Do you think he might make a move there?"

"No, but there's a hot dog eating contest.  I can really put 
away the wieners, Scully."

Fatigue returned.  "Mulder."

"It's true.  No fancy camera work, either.  I do all my own 
stunts."

"This, sadly, I believe.  I've seen the results of your 
stunts too many times."

"Okay, so no contest, but I would like to go and get the lay 
of the land.  And we do have to eat some time."

"I am *not* eating a hot dog."

"Scully, how un-American!  And on the fourth of July, too." 

"Well, I guess they'll just have to deport me."

He chuckled.  "I'll meet you back at the motel in an hour."

Scully clicked off and went back to where Eleanor was working 
on the prints.  "Any luck so far?"

"No.  I cast a pretty wide net, though.  It's going to take 
some time."

"I'm going to get a soda from the machine.  Would you like 
one?"

"That would be great, thanks."  Eleanor dug out some change 
from her pocket.  "Diet Coke."

"Is there anything else?" Scully replied, and Eleanor smiled.  
Scully left the lab and ventured down the hall to the 
machine.  She fed the coins in and the cans clunked down one 
by one.  Cracking one open, she drank liberally before 
returning back to the lab.  The computer beeped just as she 
handed the soda to Eleanor.  Eleanor sighed.

"No match."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX 

Dusk settled, muting the crazed colors of the Woodsbury town 
fair.  Helpless stranded balloons waved from the trees, and a 
brass band played swing music on center stage.  Mulder and 
Scully crossed the soft, fresh-cut grass, taking care not to 
step on any picnickers enjoying the show.  Children flew past 
them like accelerated particles -- one hapless victim 
crashing headfirst into Mulder's knees.

"Fireworks won't start for another hour," he said as they 
stood in line at the concession stand.  The scent of popcorn 
hung heavy in the air.  "We have time to ride the Ferris 
wheel."

She eyed him.  "Mulder, no."

"Scully, yes."

"Amusement rides at country fairs are notorious for their 
poor safety codes."

"It looks plenty safe to me."

"I've heard that one before -- usually just before one or 
both of us ends up in quarantine."

He paused to order his hot dog.  "And she'll have..."

"A veggie burger," Scully supplied, and Mulder made a face.

"Now that's danger right there.  Those things will scrub out 
your lower intestine like a Brillo pad."

"At least my food doesn't contain an actual intestine."

He scanned the chalk-written menu.  "Beer?"

"Why not?"  They weren't on the clock so one beer couldn't 
hurt.  Mulder handed her plate to her but couldn't get his 
wallet out with his hands full of hot dog.

"Hold my wiener, Scully?"

She took it without thinking, and the kids behind them 
laughed.  Mulder bit his lip in silent mirth as she gave him 
a long-suffering look.  "You do this to me on purpose."

"It's a heck of a wiener, isn't it?"

She took advantage of his open mouth and shoved one end in.  
"It sure is, Mulder."

"Agent Mulder, Agent Scully.  I'm glad you could make it out 
and see the lighter side of Woodsbury."  Sheriff Parker 
approached with a beer bottle in one hand and a woman on his
arm.  "I'd like you to meet my wife, Julia."

"Hello," Scully said, and the woman smiled.

"Be sure to hit the ice cream stand," she said.  "It's made 
right here at our local dairy."

"We wouldn't miss it," Mulder promised.

"Have you seen Eleanor around?" Parker asked.  "I know she 
was looking for you."

"Honestly, Sam, can't you leave the office behind for one 
evening?"  Julia squeezed his arm.

"I haven't seen her," Mulder said.  "But I'll keep an eye 
out."

Scully had the distinct impression from the way Parker was 
scanning the crowds that he was keeping more than just an eye 
out.  She wondered if he was a closet smoker.  She wouldn't 
be surprised to learn he'd been parking his butts in 
Eleanor's can.

Sheriff and Mrs. Parker wandered off and Mulder and Scully 
strolled over in the direction of the temporary picnic 
tables.  "Seriously, Scully," he said between bites of 
wiener.  "When was the last time you were on a Ferris wheel?"

"Seriously Mulder?  Never."

"Never?  That's impossible.  Why not?  I know you're not 
afraid of heights."

"We didn't do stuff like this when I was a kid.  My parents 
weren't circus people."

"That ends a long-standing question I've had," he said, and 
she nudged him in the shin with her foot. 

"Plus, a rickety, waving bucket fifty feet in the air?  I 
don't see the attraction."

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," he replied.  He tipped 
back his head to drain his bottle of beer.  "Finish yours and 
we'll go."

She looked down into her bottle.  "I may need another."

"It's fun.  You'll see."  He grabbed her hand and started 
dragging her toward the line.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

I am waiting by the fence when she arrives, late as always.  
It's the little details that you pick up when you study 
someone's life.  For one whole year I've been here, visible 
but not, and now it's time to come out of the shadows.  I 
call her name and she stops.  She's surprised to see me.

"I need to talk to you," I say, and her brow does that half-
wrinkle she makes when she's confused.  "It's about the 
case."

She follows me away from the noisy crowds, behind the line of 
trees where no one can see us.  I picked my parking spot 
quite deliberately.

"I don't understand," she says just before I jab the needle 
into her.  In two seconds flat, she's on the ground.  I pop 
the trunk and lift her in with no trouble.

It's time to rejoin the party.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Over the trees they went, halting at the pinnacle to load 
more people on to the wheel.  Mulder used his weight to rock 
their swing, and Scully gripped the side.  "Admit it," he 
said.  "It's nice up here."

She peered through one eye at the blanket of lights stretched 
out beneath them.  "It's okay."  Up in the air, it was 
cooler.  The big band had shifted into "Stars and Stripes 
Forever," and the music wasn't so loud from their vantage 
point.

The wheel heaved to a start again and Scully relaxed a bit in 
her seat.  The bucket of bolts wasn't going to collapse just 
yet.  "I just love the Fourth of July," Mulder said, 
stretching one arm behind her.  "Barbecue and fireworks and 
all-day baseball games."

"The holiday ends tomorrow," she reminded him.  "Kersh is 
going to want to know where we are."

"He won't even miss us."

"Sure, right up until the next fertilizer assignment comes 
in."

He looked at her.  "I didn't think you'd even noticed."

"Mulder, how could I not notice?  The man has given us every 
scut assignment that comes down the pike."  He turned his 
head, and she frowned.  "Wait a minute -- what you mean is, 
you don't think I *cared*."

He still avoided her eyes.  "Not exactly."

Scully forgot her unease and shifted in the swing, grabbing 
his arm.  "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I figured you liked the change, that's all.  We're coloring 
within the lines for once.  It must be a relief to you."

"I can't believe you'd say that, Mulder.  All our training, 
all our years of experience in the field, it's all being 
wasted on piss-ant cases so Kersh can grind us into the dust, 
and you think that makes me happy?"

"I didn't say happy.  I said relieved."

She looked away.  Up, up, and around they went.  She felt a 
little dizzy.  "I don't believe this."

"Well, the truth is, Scully, that sometimes I don't know whether 
you differentiate between the X-Files and a giant pile of sh-
-"

"Mulder! 

"Well, it's true!"

"I can't believe you'd even say that."

"Oh, come on, Scully.  At the end there you weren't exactly 
bowling anyone over with your enthusiasm."

"I worked every bit as hard as you did."

"I never said you didn't."

She glared at him.  "No, I just don't quite live up to your 
high standards, is that it?"

"Now you're putting words in my mouth."

"I don't think I am."

"You left, Scully.  You quit, remember?  You had a transfer 
and you wanted to leave."

"Not the X-Files!"

"No, just me."

Her mouth snapped shut.  "Is that what you really think?"

He gave a half-shrug.  "It's the truth, isn't it?"

"Mulder, I told you I wanted to stay.  I told you I wasn't 
going anywhere."

He shrugged again, his eyes on the ground below, and she 
realized the problem:  he didn't quite believe her.  She 
rubbed her forehead with one hand, wondering what to say, 
when she felt his fingers close over hers.  He tugged her 
hand down and into his lap.

"Fireworks are starting," he said just as the wheel came to a 
halt again.  They swayed in front of a glittering sky.  The 
first round of lights sputtered out as quickly as they had 
exploded.  Scully curled her fingers around Mulder's and 
watched the giant ghostly smoke spiders dissolve into the 
trees.

XxX

Yawning, she opened her door in slow motion when he stopped 
in the motel parking lot.  Mulder popped the trunk and pulled 
out a familiar box.  Scully blinked at him.  "You're not 
seriously going to watch more of those tapes tonight, are 
you?"

"I figure I've had my break.  Time's ticking here, Scully.  
If we don't ID this guy soon he's going to put another notch 
on his belt."

She drew a shuddering breath and walked towards him.  "Okay, 
then.  Two sets of eyes are better than one.  Let's get to 
it."

"No, Scully.  You get some rest.  No point in both of us 
burning the midnight oil."

"It's just past eleven."  She put her hands on his back and 
began steering him towards his room.  "Let's go."

"Okay, okay."  He let her propel him to his door, where he 
fumbled with the box and the key.  Scully leaned against the 
outer wall and yawned some more.  Inside, he wrestled with 
the VCR while she took off her shoes and on his semi-made 
bed.  The sheets smelled of starch and Mulder.  "I think this 
is the one," he said as the TV screen came to life.  "Yeah, 
June nineteenth is where we left off."

He yawned as well and crawled across the bed to join her.  
She wiggled her toes in his blankets.  "You like Chris Cullen 
as a suspect?" she asked.

"Wouldn't rule him out.  We know he had contact with at least 
two of the victims.  By his own admission, he's been here 
during the summer for the past four years."

"What if we can't find Mark Roy on any of the tapes?"

"I don't know.  I'm hoping like hell that we do, but 
something tells me it's not going to be that easy."

She nodded and settled in against the pillow.  Deep and soft, 
it let her sink forever.  She watched the flickering black 
and white images through heavy eyes.  A man with a long beard 
was buying a six-pack of Heineken and Twix bar.  Yuck, Scully 
thought, and then was fast asleep.

She jerked awake hours later to find a blank, glowing screen 
and Mulder passed out beside her, the remote still in his 
limp hand.  Curling towards him, she nuzzled into the pillow 
and contemplated his slackened face.  Lashes shadowed his 
cheekbones and she could see the faint stubble creeping in 
around his chin.  His mouth was parted a bit, his lower lip 
shining in the surreal light.  In her dreams, she could taste 
that lip -- salty and cold.  She felt it pressed to hers with 
such urgency it took her breath away.

Just a dream, she thought lazily, but it seemed so real.  She 
sneaked another look at it, and Mulder sighed.  His breath 
teased over the plump edge, making it quiver, and Scully felt 
an answering flutter in her belly.  

Her subconscious could *not* be making this up.

I've kissed him.  I must have.  She drew up and looked down 
at him more sternly, as if he were holding out on her.  Still 
no memory came.  Impossible.

His mouth worked in and out once, almost like an infant's, 
and he turned his head a bit on the pillow.  Scully's heart 
sped up.

I could do it now, she thought.  Just to see.  If there's any 
way to know for sure, it's to try it again.

She squeezed her eyes shut, hardly daring to believe what she 
was contemplating.  She wasn't going to molest him in his 
sleep, was she?  

Yes, yes she was.  He would never know and she needed to 
know.  It was just a kiss.  She swallowed hard and began her 
approach.  

Her hair fell forward as she leaned down so she tucked it 
behind her air.  Already her skin was sensitized, the sweep 
of her fingers against her skin making her tingle.  Mulder 
didn't move.  She lowered her face another few inches until 
she could smell him, smell the cotton of his T-shirt and the 
warm creases in his neck.  Her mouth watered and she licked 
her lips.  His exhales brushed her lips; she almost jerked 
away.

Light-headed, she closed her eyes and let gravity do the 
rest.  Their mouths met.  Scully froze, terrified he would 
wake, but Mulder slept on.  Gradually she relaxed and let 
herself feel his lips against hers.  Nope, she thought as she 
lingered, never done this before.  She shifted position and 
kissed him a bit more firmly, changing angles so their lips 
brushed again and again.  

Suddenly, he stopped cooperating.

He pulled himself from sleep like he was dragging the ocean, 
slow, the tides sucking him back in.  He could taste her 
tongue against his lips and he didn't want to wake up just 
yet.  But his eyes flickered open.

Cool air and warm skin.  Scully's hair against his cheek.  He 
could hear her heart beating, or was it his own?  She looked 
down at him with wide luminous eyes.  Oh my God, he thought, 
panic face in action, but didn't so much as twitch.  He kept 
perfectly still so as not to scare her away.  When he found 
his voice, it came out pitched like gravel.  "What was that?" 

"Um."  She cleared her throat and looked at her hands.  "An 
experiment?"

"I see."  He stared at her some more.  "What was the purpose 
of this experiment exactly?"

"To see if we had done... this before."

"We haven't."

"Yeah, that's what I found out."

"You were unclear?"

"Um, maybe a little, yeah.  It's hard to explain."

"Oh."  His hand came up and cupped the curve of her face.  He 
stoked her fine skin with the pad of his thumb; she leaned 
into his touch.  "Maybe we should do it some more, then.  
Just so you're certain."

"We could..."  She licked her lips.  "We could do that."

"Good."  His hand snaked around to the back of her neck and 
brought her down to him, closer this time.  Her breath 
whispered across his face just before her lips came down on 
his.  He exploded like the evening's fireworks, sparklers 
behind his eyes as she learned him with her hot little 
tongue.  He tasted her lips, her teeth, felt the soft weight 
of her pressing him into oblivion.  

Her thigh made a rough slid over his, denim on denim, Scully 
twisting in his arms.  He sprinted around the bases waiting 
for her to stop him sliding into second, but she just raised 
her chest for his hands.  Shaking, he stroked her through her 
T-shirt with tender fingers until she broke off panting 
against his face.  "Mulder--"

"Stop?"  He found her swollen nipples with his thumbs and she 
shook her head.  Her free hand slipped under his shirt to 
skim along his ribs.  He took it as his cue to do the same.  
Soon he had her bra undone, trapped under the cotton shirt 
with his nimble fingers.  He pinched her nipples at the same 
time and she cried aloud.  His cock twitched in his jeans.  

She was breathless, needy, and for once he knew what to give 
her.  His thigh rose up between her legs.  He couldn't 
imagine they would actually get their pants off; even in his 
dreams he couldn't get that far.  If they left their clothes 
on, it wasn't really happening.

They groped like naughty teenagers, grinding together on the 
bed while he played in her mouth with his tongue.  The 
pressure in his pants grew unbearable but he made no move to 
relieve it.  Scully wasn't as patient.  His hips bucked when 
her fingers found him, playing along the taut fly.  He pushed 
his head deep into the pillow and gritted his teeth.  The 
only sound in the room was their ragged breathing and Scully 
working their zippers.

He sighed when he felt her weight come down on him again, his 
cock still tucked half inside his jeans.  She kissed his 
neck, his ear, his chin.  He couldn't believe the velvet 
smooth expanse of her back.  Jerking her shirt up, he mapped 
greedy hands over every inch of her.  His fingertips found 
the loose waistband drooping at her hips, rubbing up and down 
and sneaking a little farther in each time.  Scully's hips 
picked up his rhythm, forcing him deeper, until at last he 
met the leg band of her underwear.  The lace edge was 
slippery, wet, and he wedged his fingers inside.

Scully spasmed and muttered a dirty word near his ear.  
"There?" he breathed against her sweet skin.

She hummed a yes, pushing into his hand, and he clawed her 
hair out of the way to see her face.  Her eyes were closed in 
concentration, her brow furrowed the way it did when she was 
working out an argument.  Thinking about fucking me, he 
thought, and nearly lost it right then.  He bit her shoulder, 
cotton and all.

Her tempo increased, her rocking deepened.  Blood thrummed in 
his veins.  Thisisitthisit. 

The phone rang.

He froze but Scully's hips jerked several more times on his 
hand.  She braced herself on either side of his head.  
"Phone," she murmured, sounding lost.  Phones ringing at 2 am 
meant only bad news.  He pressed his face to the hollow 
between her breasts.  Somehow he managed to free his hand 
from her thighs, and Scully collapsed onto the bed, still 
breathing hard.  He steadied himself and answered the phone.

"Mulder."  His voice came out just a little strained.

"Agent Mulder, it's Eleanor Kot.  I'm sorry to disturb you at 
this late hour."

He lay back, closing his eyes.  His dick throbbed in time 
with his pounding heart.  "What is it?"

"We just got a call from CiCi's daughter Janet.  CiCi went to 
the town fair and hasn't come home."

Mulder looked at Scully.  Her hair was tousled, her cheeks 
flushed, but her eyes were concerned.  He reached over and 
squeezed her knee.  "Scully and I'll be right there," he said 
to Eleanor. 

"Hurry," she answered.  "It may already be too late."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Continued in chapter six.

Wrote like a demon.  Must sleep now. 

Feedback: supports the writing demon.  All comments, 
questions, etc, are welcome at syn_tax6@yahoo.com

Thanks for reading!