Chapter Ten - Trepidation...

"He, who controls his senses and 'sacrifices' himself in the 'fire of knowledge' does not have the slightest of trepidation and fear."
~ Atharva Veda ~

After the dessert has been served and everyone is back in their seats at the table, Mulder looks across at Alex, and asks him the question that he has wanted to hear the answer to, ever since he had heard the news.

“Krycek?”

“Yes, Mulder?”  He replies, after swallowing a spoonful of vanilla ice cream.

“What was it that finally made you kill Spender?  I mean, how did you manage to do it, successfully?”

Everyone in the room turn their eyes toward Alex, making him feel more than slightly uncomfortable.

“I am not exactly pleased with the fact that I did, indeed, take a life, but that it was Spender’s allows me to feel morally justified with my actions.

“It was more of an impulse, really, than any plan that I had devised.  I couldn’t take it anymore, Mulder.  Standing in that posh penthouse, listening to him—through a hole in his neck, no less—talk about his desire to resuscitate the Project, and eventually a new Syndicate.  I became incensed.  I recalled everything that had happened over the course of the past eight years, due to his fucking Conspiracy, and the thought of him wanting it back was too much for me to tolerate.

“I walked up behind his wheelchair, rolled him to the top of the stairs, and pushed.  I actually, as morbid as it is to admit, smiled at his crumpled form, lying there at the bottom of the stairs beneath me.  Then I put two bullets into his head.

“I had thought it was over.  Finally over.  That we were free.  Except…”  He momentarily pauses for another bite of his dessert, and then goes on.  “Except, the next morning, I found out that you had been taken.  I knew then, the fight was still going to go on.  That even though Spender was, at long last, dead, I still had work to do and it was time to end the charade.  So, I contacted Walter, anonymously, through an e-mail.”

Mulder looks over at Walter.

“You have known about this for six months?”  He asks, incredulously.

“Yes.”

“All while Scully and Agent Doggett had been out there, searching for me?”

“Yes.”

“You never felt the need to tell Scully about Alex, until last night?”

“Yes.  Actually, no.  I have wanted to tell her, many times, I just...  The timing never seemed right.  I was afraid she would not be able to handle the added stress.  Not on top of everything else she was going through.  Your abduction.  Her pregnancy.  A new partner.  Then finding you dead and having to bury you, only to then find out that I exhumed you three months later, when she was finally putting her life back together?  I couldn’t figure out a way to tell her.”

“You couldn’t tell her after my funeral?”

“No.  She has not had an easy pregnancy and I didn’t want to interfere with her time of mourning, even though I know it was hard on Alex, as well…your death.  He, too, was mourning, in his own way.  We all were, but I couldn’t bring myself to add to her discomfort.  Though, considering what has happened, I probably should have long ago.”  He admits, watching Dana and Alex, together.  “They may have been able to help each other through the pain.”

“So, what happened last night?  What was it that all of a sudden made you feel now was the time to divulge your friendship with Krycek?  My being alive?”

“In a way.”

Mulder looks at him quizzically.

“It was the argument she had with you.”  Walter replies, calmly.

Mulder is surprised.  “Our argument?”

“Well, yes.  She took off from the hospital and came here.  What was I supposed to do, Mulder?  Keep Alex locked up in the guest room?  I couldn’t do that to him; he currently lives here.  So, instead, I decided it was finally time to fess up and tell her the truth.  Which, after a few tense moments, we did.  Alex and I.

“Now, here we all are, as it should be.  Everyone in this room, Mulder, belongs here.  All we have to be concerned about going forward in the immediate future is your reinstatement, which should not be a problem, by the way, seeing as how you went missing in the line of duty.  Alex’s reinstatement, which I am still trying to figure out how to accomplish, but will do my damndest to make sure it happens, and Monica’s transfer are also on the agenda.  John and Dana are already working in the basement, so there is not a problem with them, even with Dana on maternity leave for the next few weeks.”

Mulder turns his attention to his bowl of ice cream, lost in thought over Walter’s words.

“What are you thinkin’, Agent Mulduh?  John asks, watching Mulder as he contemplates.

“Agent Doggett, please, call me Mulder.  Okay?  Just, Mulder.”

“Okay.”  He smiles at the man, still unsure about how to react to him, or what to think about him, yet also curious as to what is going on inside his brilliant mind.  “What are you thinkin’?  If I may ask.”

Mulder chuckles.  “I was thinking; we need to hurry up with the reinstatements of Alex and myself, and with Monica’s transfer, so that we can start kicking some alien ass!”

Everyone laughs at his remark.  It is indeed nice to see the old Mulder back among the living.

“All right.”  John agrees.  “So, now what?  How should we proceed?”

“Now, John?”  Walter responds.  “Now we need, in my opinion, to find out about Deputy Director Kersh.  I realize that I could be thrown out of the Bureau for insubordination when I say this, but, I have had the feeling lately, that not everything with regard to Kersh’s work has been on the up and up.”

“Only lately?”  Dana chides him.

“Okay, longer than lately.  More like, since he came to the Hoover Building.”  Walter admits with a slight smile.

“Of course he is not on the up and up, Walter.”  Dana replies.  “I think that he is hiding something, otherwise, why would he be so pissed off about Mulder’s actually being alive?”

“I have had the same question floatin’ around in my mind, as well.  I will bet dollars to doughnuts that there is more to it, than simply Mulduh’s existence.  That man has always made my skin crawl, ever since the day I met him.  The way he says my name, almost as though I’m beneath him in more than title, burns me up.”

“I don’t know him, so I can’t form an opinion of him, personally; however, if he is actually angry that Mulder is not dead, than that is enough to send my red flags up.”  Monica adds.

Alex and Mulder look across the table at each other, and smile.  Then a thought occurs to Mulder and he directs his attention to Scully.

“What about The Lone Gunmen, Scully?  Don’t you think that they should be included in what is going on here?  Krycek’s true colors?  And everything else all of you have told me tonight?”

She smiles at him.  “I do.  However my primary concern has been you.  I needed to tell you first, and see how you would react, before I chanced informing them of the changes that have taken place.  They have, in a way, become almost an extension of the X-Files Division.  So, yes, I’ll tell them.  Yet, with you being the founder of the X-Files, I knew that you needed to be told first.  It makes more sense that way, and with you on our side, I know it will be easier to convince them of Alex’s honesty.  Especially Frohike.”

Alex smiles to himself, but says nothing.  Instead he takes another mouthful of ice cream.

Mulder smiles at her, oblivious to Alex’s reaction to their conversation.  “True.  He is going to be a hard one to persuade.”

Alex again suppresses a grin; as he listens to the partners speak of their favorite paranoid trio.

“Mulder, no one is harder to convince than you are.  Even when you do believe most of what a lot of other people would consider crazy shit.”

He laughs.  “Touché.”  He glances at the clock.  Twelve-forty-five.  Getting late.  “Is there anything else any of you wish to discuss tonight?”

Alex glances at his laptop and back at Mulder.  “No, it will keep.  Let’s meet tomorrow, for breakfast.  How does that sound?”

Mulder grins at him.  “If you’re cooking, it sounds great.”

Alex laughs.  ‘Okay, deal.  How about ten o’clock?”

“That sounds fine.  Monica?  Are you ready to go?”

“Sure, I’m getting pretty tired.”  She admits, standing.  She walks around the table to the kitchen, and places her bowl into the sink.

Everyone follows her example and rises from the table, as it is clear, the discussion has finally ended.

Mulder walks around the table toward Alex.  He puts out his hand to shake, and as Alex reaches to take it, Mulder brings him in for a hug, surprising the man.

“Thank you, Alex.  Thank you for telling me everything.  I know it wasn’t an easy thing to do.  You have courage, Alex, real courage.  I admire that in a person.”  He backs away, as Monica walks back into the dining room.  “Ready, Monica?”

She continues on to the coat closet by the door and retrieves her black-suede leather jacket.  “Ready, Mulder.”

“Okay, Everyone.  See you tomorrow morning at ten.  Have a good night.”  He says, as he winks at Scully.

She smiles at him in return.  “Have a good night, Mulder.  Remember, if you need anything, just call me, as I still want to keep an eye on your progress.”

“Good night, everyone.”  Monica states, as she waits by the door for Mulder to join her.

“Sure thing, Doc.”  He grins at Scully, as he moves to stand next to Monica and opens the front door.  Placing his hand on the small of her back, he escorts her out of Walter’s apartment.

On their way to the elevator, he turns to her, bends down and kisses her lightly, surprising her.

“What was that for?”

He smiles, sheepishly.  “For being you and for not getting up and walking out when you heard how weird most of the past ten years have been for me.”

She smiles up at him.  “Mulder, if I was going to do that, I never would have come in the first place.  Besides, you are an Abductee, so, I already knew you were weird.”  She replies, breaking out into laughter.

He grins at her, and laughs, too.  He takes her hand inside the elevator, and once back in the garage, he escorts her to his car.  “So, Monica?  Where to?”

She gazes over at him to see he is watching her, while he places his key into the ignition, and puts the car into reverse.  “Wherever.”  She smiles.

He beams back at her, while putting the car into drive, leaving the site that has changed his life in more ways than one.

 

After Mulder and Monica leave, John goes about helping Skinner with clearing off and depositing the rest of the dessert dishes into the dishwasher, while Alex helps Dana to the couch.

As they sit down he asks, “Are you all right?”

Sighing heavily, she smiles at him.  “Aleksei, I am great!  Really.  I’m feeling the happiest I have felt in a very long time.”

“Good.  I’m glad.  You deserve to be happy, Katya.  You have a very kind soul, and don’t need to keep having to deal with so much stress in your life.”  He sits back, places his arm around her and pulls her toward him.

She smiles, as she leans into his chest and closes her eyes.  I could stay like this, with him, forever.  She chuckles to herself.

“What?”  He asks; a little concerned.

“Not a thing, Alex.  Not a damn thing.”  She replies quietly, smiling broadly.

After a couple of minutes without speech from her, he realizes that her breathing has become even.

She is actually asleep!

He smiles, and squeezes her a little tighter, protectively.

John and Walter walk out of the kitchen, laughing together at some joke at Kersh’s expense, and look at the two figures on the couch, quieting down as they approach, finding Dana sleeping soundly, on Alex’s chest.  They each smile at him, as Walter takes a seat in the recliner and John pulls a chair over from the table to set next to the relaxing pair.

“All in all, Alex, I think it was a success, don’t you?”  Walter whispers, not wanting to wake Dana.

“Yes, Walter.  I think it was.  What do you think, John?”  Alex whispers, directing his attention to Dana’s new partner.  His new partner.

Wow, that will take a while to get used to.

John nods his head in agreement.  “I think it went very well, considerin’ all I have heard regardin’ Mulduh’s feelin’s toward you.  The fact that he wants to meet for breakfast in the mornin’, in my opinion, is a good sign.”

“Are you kidding, John?”  Walter whispers, smiling.  “That is a fantastic sign!”

Alex laughs softly, trying to keep his chest from moving too much.  “Yes, I must agree, especially if he wants me to cook.  Let’s me know that he at least trusts me enough not to kill him with food.”

The other men laugh.

As the room falls into a companionable silence, with only the gentle sounds of Dana’s breathing to be heard, John looks at his watch.

One-ten.

“Okay, Gentleman, I think I’d better be goin’ now.  It’s been a hell of a day, and I’m beat.  Better get home and catch some zees, if I’m to be back in time for breakfast in the mornin’.”

“All right, John.  I’ll walk you out.”  Walter offers.

“All right.  Alex, please let Dana know that, considerin’ the subjects of conversation, I had a nice time tonight.”

“I will.”  He offers his hand, while remaining seated, and John walks over to shake it.

“Good night, Alex.  I’m very happy to know you, now.”

“I’m glad to know you, too, John.”  He replies, smiling up at his new friend.

Turning to Walter, John replies.  “Okay you guys, sleep well.  I’ll just see myself out, Sir.”

“Okay, you have a nice night, John.”  Walter responds.

“I will, Sir.  You, too.”  He says, walking out the door.

“I will.”

 

After John Doggett rides the elevator down to the garage, and unlocks his truck, he retrieves his gun from the glove box and replaces it into its holster.

As he drives through the dark and empty streets of Washington, toward his house in Georgetown, he contemplates the day’s events.

This has got to be one of the most intriguing days that I have ever experienced.  To think, after all that those three have been through, to be able to still get up in the morning and face the day?  It is astounding!  And Monica?  With Mulder?  Dana with Alex?  Now those are two pairings I would never have fathomed.  My only hope, now that everything is out in the open, is that Dana will finally find happiness.  It certainly appears as though Alex is willing to give her anything she desires.  Work on Monday is, definitely, going to be interesting.

He smiles, as he finally pulls into his driveway and parks his truck.

Who would have thought?

He turns off the ignition and stares at his dark, empty house.  For once he finds that he is not depressed to be home.

Upon entering his foyer, he foregoes turning on any lights, and walks up the stairs to his bedroom.  He undresses, allowing his clothes to collect on the floor, instead of promptly putting them into the hamper—like he normally would—and then falls into his bed, worn out.

I also made two friends today.  What more could a guy ask for?  At least, for a man like me?

He promptly falls into a peaceful sleep, smiling.

 

Hegal Place
1:45 a.m. 

It is a comfortable silence in Mulder’s car, as he and Monica pull up to his apartment building.  She looks over at him, wondering what her next move should be.

Do I simply go to my car and say ‘Goodnight, Mulder?  Thank you for an interesting day.  I’ll see you at breakfast in the morning?’  What?

As he turns the car off, Mulder watches her, unable to decide what to do next, himself.

It is after one in the morning, should I invite her up?  Or just let her leave?  Am I really ready to end this astonishing day?  Do I want to go upstairs, alone?

“Mulder?”  She asks, startling him out of his thoughts.

“Yes, Monica?”

“Are you going to be all right?  I mean, if I left tonight?  Or would you be more comfortable, if I stayed?  You know, this being your first real night at home in six months.  I don’t wish to intrude, but…”

“No, you’re not intruding.”  Mulder interrupts her, finding it interesting that she would know the direction of his thoughts.  “I mean, you are more than welcome to stay, if you would like.  We are adults and I do enjoy your company.”  He admits, thankful for the darkness of the car, as he feels his face heat up.  Afraid, if she saw him in the light, she would know that she has really affected him the way no other woman has, for a long time.

She laughs softly.  “I feel like I am in high school again.”

He laughs in response.  “Me, too.  Why is that?  What is it about being attracted to someone that makes one suddenly lose their ability to speak or think coherently?”

She laughs louder, causing him to smile wider.

Oh, if I could make her laugh like that, all the time?  I would be in heaven!

“I’m sorry, Mulder.  I didn’t mean to laugh so loudly; it is just…I’m nervous.  Why?  I have no idea.  There is no reason for it.  I spent the entire night with you last night, and I had a great time.  Well, considering the circumstances.”  She blushes, immediately feeling like a moron for comparing the events of the previous evening, with now.

He breaks out into a fit of laughter.  “This is stupid, Monica.  Come on.  Let’s go upstairs.  We can discuss how awkward this feels up there, where we will at least be able to see each other more clearly.”

He unlocks and opens his door, walks around the car, and opens hers.

A little surprised at his chivalry, she smiles up at him, as she steps out.  “You’re right, Mulder.  This is juvenile.  Let’s go and have a real conversation.  That is, if you are still interested in talking, it is late.”  She smiles at him with a gleam in her eye.

He smiles his make-you-weak-in-the-knees grin at her.  “All right, Agent Reyes.  Let’s see what the conversation turns up.”

Putting his arm around her, he leads her up to his apartment and opens the door for her, again, then takes her coat.

“Thank you.”  She replies, curious as to why she had never been informed of his manners.

“No problem.”  He smiles, shyly.  “Would you like some coffee?  I realize it is late, but…”

“I would love some.  Do you have any whipped cream?”

“Actually, now that you mention it.”  He looks at her devilishly.  “Scully did some grocery shopping while I was ‘away’, and I noticed a can of it in the fridge; most likely to go with the ice cream she has been craving lately.”

Monica laughs.  “Thank God for small favors.”  She then looks at him, innocently.

“Yes.”  He replies, winking at her, as he walks into the kitchen to make the coffee.

 

Crystal Square
1:21 a.m. 

After having locked the door, upon John’s exit, Walter walks through the kitchen, turning off the coffee pot and the lights, then returns to the living room and stands over Alex and Dana.  He whispers to Alex that he is going to go to bed.  He does not wish to awaken Dana, who is sleeping peacefully, with her head snuggled upon Alex’s chest, and her legs bent, up against the back of the couch.

Alex smiles down at her, as he quietly bids Walter goodnight.

Walter walks away, and at the bottom of the stairs, he turns again to look at the two of them, together as they are in his living room.

Who the hell would have thought?  Damn, I wish I had a camera.

He smiles to himself and proceeds to his bedroom.  Once undressed, he climbs into bed and promptly falls asleep, a smile on his face.

 

Alex sits quietly on the couch, smiling down at Dana, unable to believe that her presence is a reality.

She looks like an angel.  I can’t believe how everything has changed in just twenty-four hours.  Thank you, God, for allowing me this second chance.  I promise I will never take it for granted.  Not the peace that I have been blessed with.  Nor the love from this woman you have granted me.  Thank you.

He ever so gently uses his hand to place a lock of errant hair behind her ear, doing his best not to wake her, as he sits there, alone, but for her sleeping form.  He reflects back on the events that have transpired and it takes him a lot of will power to keep from crying with gratitude.

I promise you, Katya.  I will spend the rest of my life, making up all of the pain that I have caused you, whether directly or indirectly, if you will only let me.

He starts caressing her cheek, lightly, but not too lightly, as he does not want to wake her by tickling her.

I love you, Dana Katherine Scully.

“I love you.”  He whispers to her, believing she cannot hear him, but telling her all the same.

“I love you, too, Aleksei.”  She replies quietly, startling him.  She carefully shifts her body on the couch, and turns her head to look up at him, smiling.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”  He apologizes, softly.

“You didn’t.”  She replies.  “The baby did.”  She chuckles.  “I have to use the restroom, again.”

He laughs quietly.  “Want some help up?”

“Please.”  She says, as she unfolds her legs and raises her head from his chest.  He places his hand behind her, to help her keep from falling back into him.

She scoots off of his lap, and once in an upright position, turns to place her feet on the floor and he rises to take her hand.  She stretches her back, as he wraps his arm around her, helping her maintain her balance.

Smiling through a yawn, she stretches herself up to her full height and pulls his head down for a light kiss, and then she walks to the restroom.  Knowing that he is watching her as she leaves the room, she smiles widely.

Alex falls back into the couch, relaxing and smiling to himself.  Suddenly, he finds himself to be momentarily confused at the feelings that have swiftly taken him over.

He laughs, quietly.

I know what it must be.  I am happy.  Truly happy.

He grins devilishly.

 

After using the facilities, Dana returns to the living room to find Alex sitting, lost in thought, with a smile on his face.  She stops and watches him.

He looks so…what word am I looking for?  Tranquil.  Yes, he looks tranquil.  If only we had found our love for each other years ago.  How different would our lives be now?

He comes out of his reverie and looks over at her, beckoning her to join him.  She walks over and sits down.

“What were you thinking, just now?”

“I was thinking about the past.”

“Why, Dana?  I thought that we promised, no more.  It’s over, and now we can move on.”

“Yes, Alex.  I know.  I was just wondering about…well…how things might have been for us, if we had done this a long time ago.  Admitting our feelings for one another.”

“I know Katya; however, like you said earlier, everything happens for a reason.  Maybe, if we had we wouldn’t be together, now.  Or, maybe we wouldn’t be able to know what we know now, about the Project.  Or, well, everything.  While I, too, regret the time that has been wasted, we are together now, and that is what matters most.”

She smiles up at him.  “Yes, now is what matters most, and—now—we can move on together.”

He places his arm around her, pulling her close.  He breathes in deeply, the vanilla scent of her hair gracing his senses, and closes his eyes to keep from tearing up at the reality that she does love him.  As he loves her.

“Dana, Honey?  Do you want me to drive you home?  It’s pretty late, and I don’t feel comfortable with the idea of you driving alone.”

She giggles.  “No, Alex.  You don’t have to drive me home, but yes, it is getting late.”

He smiles at her, deliciously, causing her heart to skip a beat, again.

Is it possible to become addicted to a smile?

“Why don’t you go on up and take the bed in the guest room?  I’ll take the couch.  You need your sleep, and the bed is comfortable.  I’ll wake you in the morning in time to get ready for breakfast.”

She is taken aback by his chivalry.  Not because he is being so sweet, but because he would actually give up his room, for her.  She cannot help but smile at him, as she thinks of a few things she would like to do in his bed.

Of course, being eight and a half months pregnant that would be out of the question.  Not to mention the six additional weeks after the birth of the baby.

But, oh my, the tantalizing fun I could give him!

She blushes, as she realizes the direction her thoughts have taken, and abruptly looks away from him.

“What is it, Katya?”  He asks, delighting in the sudden pinkness of her cheeks, but having no real concept as to why she is embarrassed.

Poor man.  He really has no idea what he does to me, does he?

Without as much as another thought, she rises to her feet, and responds, “Come on, Aleksei,” as she pulls him up with a gentle tug on his hand.  “Let’s go to bed.”

He stares at her, dumbfounded, until the realization dawns on him that she wants him to join her.  With his eyes wide—and his voice choked—he asks, “Are you sure about this, Katya?”

She looks at him momentarily, puzzled.

Am I really sure?  After everything that has happened to us, he does have a valid question.

“I have never been surer about anything in my life.”  She finally replies, beaming him one of her full-watt smiles.

He simply stands there, unable to find the words to articulate both his surprise, and his desire to abide by her wishes.

I have done a lot of stupid things in my life that much I will admit.  But, I am most certainly not an idiot.  If I declined?  Jesus, they would have to put me in a mental institution.  If she is certain, there is now way I’m turning down her invitation.

He suddenly smiles at her, shyly.

She gazes at him, unable to comprehend his shyness.

Alex Krycek?  Shy?  Oh yes, this man will never stop surprising me.

“I’m sorry, Alex.  I should have taken your feelings into consideration.  I realize that it appears that I am moving too fast, however, I promise, my intentions are honorable.  I simply don’t like the idea of you giving up your bed, when you certainly don’t have to.”

Christ, I must sound like an idiot!

He chuckles.  “Katya, My Sweet, I must be honest with you.  My hesitation has nothing to do with my feelings for you, nor do I feel things are moving too fast.  I was simply surprised.  I haven’t been with anyone since…”  He stops a moment, wondering if he should even continue with this conversation.

“Since when, Alex?”  She asks, concerned.

“Nothing.  It’s nothing.”  He smiles, wanting to reassure her that this is, indeed, what he wants to do.  No matter that the idea of being with her, in bed, scares the hell out of him.

She smiles, understanding that this is a big step, for both of them, even if nothing happens, but sleep.

As they walk around the living room, turning off the remaining light near the sofa, she begins to feel apprehensive.

I invited him to sleep in bed with me!

So?

So, I have only slept with one person, for one night, in almost ten years!

You love him, don’t you?

She glances at him, as he joins her at the bottom of the stairs, placing his arm around her waist to help her walk in the dark.

Yes.  I do.

Then you have nothing to worry about.  Nothing at all.

At times like these, she is intensely grateful for the rational voice inside her head.  Sounding so much like Melissa.

She smiles up at Alex, as they start to walk up the stairs.  Walking passed Walter’s bedroom door, she feels the sudden urge to giggle, and bites her lip to keep from doing so.  However, she is unable to keep from shaking her shoulders at the intensity of her cooped up mirth.

Alex smiles, and whispers, “What’s so funny?”

She breaks into a grin, barely visible in the darkened hallway.  “Nothing, really.  I suddenly feel as though I am sneaking a boy into my bedroom, you know, under ‘Daddy’s’ nose.”

It is his turn to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud.

“You never fail to surprise me, Dana.  Why?  Did you used to do that?”  He asks, grinning mischievously at her.

She playfully smacks his arm.  “Of course not.  But, now I know how it would have felt, I think.”

He finally gives voice to his laughter, as they enter the guest room and he turns on the light.

She walks over to the bed and sits down.  She then gazes around the sparsely furnished room, taking in his tiny collection of personal effects, making special note of the two picture frames set upon the dresser.

One is an eight by ten and the other is a five by seven.  Both are made from solid oak and both contain portraits of a couple, one with the pair young, and the other of the couple approaching middle age.

They must be his parents.  She realizes, feeling guilty; remembering the rude comment she had made to him the previous evening.

He watches her.

When she set down, she did it as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

To be in a bedroom with me.

He can see the expressions playing across her beautiful face, while she looks at the photos of his parents, two of his most valued possessions, and he knows what she is thinking.

She feels guilty over her remark last night.

He walks toward her, wanting to show her, if necessary, that she is forgiven for what she had said to him in the heat of anger.

“Are they your parents?”  She asks quietly, looking at him, as he sits down beside her.

He nods.  “Yes.  Adam Noy and Alenka Nadia Krycek.  They went by Adam and Nadia.”

“Went by?”  She asks, questioningly, turning her attention back to the frames.

“Yes.  They died within a few weeks of each other, actually.  Nothing as dramatic as gunshots or alien abductions, of course.”  He says jokingly, trying to relieve the sudden tension he feels.  “My mother died of advanced cervical cancer.”

“I am so sorry, Alex.  When you talked of them earlier, I assumed they were still living.”

“It’s okay, Dana.  They are in a better place.  After my mother died, my father….  He seemed to lose the will to go on without her.  I would like to hope that God noticed his pain and called for him, too.  He died in his sleep, three weeks after she was laid to rest.  It was very sad to lose them both, but, they are together again.  At least, I would like to believe they are.  They died the same year that I graduated from Quantico.  Just before I was assigned to the X-Files, with Mulder.”

“She still appeared young in this photograph.”  Dana observes, pointing to the smaller frame.

“Yes, she was only in her mid fifties.  That is another reason why I…” He pauses.  “Why I…”  He looks away, toward the door.

She takes his right hand within her left, and with her other, gently places her fingers to his face, and pulls his gaze back to her.  “Please, Alex.  Don’t feel the need to turn away from me.  You can tell me anything.”

“That is why I wanted to help Mulder cure your cancer.  I could not bear to watch you die the way my mother did.”  He closes his eyes, not wanting to show her the actual depth of the fear he had suffered, during those painful months.  When she had been forced to live with it, and then almost die from it.

Squeezing his hand, she replies.  “Alex, please…you don’t have to worry anymore.  It’s all right.  I am fine, now.  Please, try to let it go.  I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”  She then takes a deep breath, hurting for him, and at a loss as to how to ease his pain.

After a moment, he smiles at her.  “I know you’re fine, Dana.  For that I’m very grateful.  Very grateful.”

She smiles.  “Come on, Aleksei.  It’s late; let’s get some sleep.  Everything will look brighter in the morning.”

“All right.”

He smiles at her, trying to stop the sudden fear of being near her that has crept upon him.

Lying next to her on the couch last night was one thing, but a real bed?

He forcibly shakes it off

Stop it, Alex.  You love her.

Yes.  I do.

He pulls away from her, and his smile broadens.

She smiles back, kicking off her shoes.  She then stands and watches him, wondering what the hell she should do next.

God, I am so nervous!  Should I keep my clothes on?  Or simply sleep in the only way I truly feel comfortable.  But, naked?  Especially in my state of pregnancy?

Alex kicks off his own shoes—oblivious to Dana’s inner turmoil—and, as he stands, he gracefully pulls off his sweater, hearing her instantly suck in her breath; having forgotten all about his left arm.

Realizing what she has seen, he quickly turns away from her, squeezing his eyes shut in humiliation.  Holding the sweater in front of him, he begins to put it back on.

“Alex.”  She coaxes gently, her own nervousness suddenly dissipated.  Jesus, he must have been hurt badly by someone, and over something he couldn’t control!

“If it offends you, I will keep a tee-shirt on.”  He stammers toward the floor, ashamed and extremely self-conscious.

I haven’t been in the presence of a woman, or anyone else for that matter, sans shirt, since my “accident”.  Well, except for Rhi and the Tunisian prison, but those were entirely different circumstances.  When locked in a cell with a bunch of other hard ass men, one tends to lose their self-consciousness, just to survive.  And Rhi?  Well, Rhi is Rhi.

“No, Alex.  Don’t.  Please, do not feel uncomfortable.  I was merely…taken aback.  Except for the seam where your upper arm meets your prosthetic, it looks…” She pauses a moment, walking toward him, “it looks very real.  To be honest, I had forgotten that it’s not.”

He looks at her, mystified.  “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Katya.  It’s just as easy for me to keep a shirt on.”  He replies, quietly.

I wish I had remembered, and left my damn sweater on in the first place.  Jesus.

Feeling the powerful need to reassure him, to make him realize that the sight of his arm does not bother her, she walks up, and stands squarely in front of him.

“Aleksei, please.  Leave it off.  I want to see you.  You do not have to hide from me.”

He raises his gaze, and watches her face, looking for any sign of disgust.  Seeing that she is being honest and not just telling him these things to be nice, or to keep from hurting his feelings, he once more removes the sweater, and drops it to the floor at the foot of the bed.

She then startles him by asking, “Have you ever experienced muscle cramping in the trapezius due to the weight or suspension forces of your arm?”

He stares at her, stunned that she would know what a side effect of wearing a prosthetic would be, and then he smiles impishly.

“I’m sorry, Katya.  For a moment there, I forgot you are a doctor, as well as an agent for the FBI.”

She laughs at his remark, which eases his tension.  “Yes, that tends to happen.”

He chuckles, instantly feeling relaxed.

“My arm only weighs about three and a half pounds, but, yes, to answer your question, it did at first.  However, the weight has become tolerable.  It’s been a few years now, and with muscle strengthening exercises, I have had very few problems.  Especially because the socket was constructed so well.  I barely feel it, unless…well…unless I’m fighting someone.”  He grins widely, stealing her breath once more.  “But that wears down the batteries, so I try to avoid physical confrontations.”

“When was your last checkup?”  She asks, working hard to maintain her clinical composure.

“Just after things went nuts, and I pushed Spender down the stairs.  I had a couple of the electrodes replaced, but that’s all I’ve needed to have done.  I have it looked at yearly.”

“Is it myoelectric?”  She inquires, clearly slipping into “doctor mode”.

He understands that she is not asking these questions to pry, but rather, asking them because she genuinely cares about him.

“Yes.  It works beautifully, too, but by pushing Spender in anger, I accidentally caused two of the electrodes to rip from under the skin.  I left the arm off for a couple of days, to allow the little tears to heal, and then my doctor replaced them.  I’m fine now.”

She watches him closely, when he slowly moves away from her, afraid he will once more retreat into himself.

He roams about the room, placing dirty laundry into the hamper in the closet.  The fact that his left arm looks so real truly astounds her.

“What is it made from?”  She questions, walking to join him near the end of the bed.  She reaches out to touch him, and then pulls back, suddenly afraid of offending him.

Shit, but if I hesitate to touch him that could cause him to think I am offended.

She gently places her hand on his left forearm, and runs her fingers down to the wrist.

“I mean it’s most certainly not latex, or even Rigid PVC.  I know that it’s impossible to achieve this look of realism from those materials, though I have read that RPVC is getting better.”

He smiles at her, amazed that she would know so much about the construction of prosthetics, doctor or not.  She is, after all, a forensic pathologist.

“Silicone, actually.  It’s definitely more expensive, however.”  He replies, looking down at his arm; taking note of her hand.  “I prefer it.  The more natural my arm looks, the better.  I have had a hard enough time, these past few years since the…accident…without having to add to my discomfort, by either walking around without it, or by wearing something that clearly shows my disadvantage.  But, to be honest, even though it does look very much like my right arm, I still like to wear a black glove over the hand.”

“How does it stay on so well?  Without a harness?”

“I used to use a skeletal-soft tissue lock, which compressed the area around the joint.  But, it wasn’t very comfortable.  So, after about a year, I switched to suction suspension, which means that the socket has a tiny valve in it.  Once I attach the arm, I use the valve to create negative pressure inside the socket, providing adequate suspension.  To remove the arm, I simply release the pressure.”

She looks at him, in awe that he would be so forthright with his explanation.  “Thank you, Aleksei.  I know that this must be a difficult subject for you to talk about.  I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable.”

He laughs, softly.  “On the contrary, surprisingly, talking to you about it actually feels good.  There are only two other people I have gone into such depth with, besides my doctor.  But, then again, you are a doctor.”

She fleetingly wonders who the other two people are, that he would trust so implicitly with the information that he has just relayed to her, but she decides it best to keep the question to herself, for now.

“It doesn’t make it any bearable, though, does it?  My being a doctor?”

“It does to me.  That, and the fact that I would have told you sooner or later.  Nothing wrong with sooner.”

She smiles demurely.

“No.  Nothing wrong with sooner.”  She then peers at him, knowing that she very well could be the only one he will ever allow to see him as he is at this very moment; in a very vulnerable state.  She begins to tear up.

Not the hormones this time.

“I love you, Aleksei.”

Surprised by the tears in her eyes, he wraps her in his arms.

As she lays her head on his chest, he kisses the top of it and whispers.  “I love you too, Katya.”

After a few comfortable moments, she pulls away from him, raising her head to look at his face.  She stretches up, and softly presses her lips to his, then pulls back.  Still maintaining eye contact with him, she reaches for his left hand, noting only a slight hesitation from him, and proceeds to bring it to her face.

Holding his hand, in both of hers, she watches him.  She then places her cheek in the palm of it and closes her eyes.

Oh, yes.  I truly do love this man.  How or why is not important.  God has definitely blessed me on this day.  Thank you, Jesus.

Upon opening her eyes, she sees that he has started to cry.  She smiles at him, all of the love in her heart shining through, and he pulls her close to kiss her again.

Slowly, deeply, he kisses her, forging a bond with her that will last for the rest of their days.

When their kiss ends, they look at each other, and smile.

“Come on, Katya.  Time for bed.  You must rest.”

She laughs quietly at him.  “Yes, Doctor Krycek.”

He tickles her lightly at her ribs, as he moves from her toward the bed, pulling down the blankets.

“Wrong.  That is Special Agent Krycek.  You, My Sweet, are the doctor.”

While chuckling at him, the realization dawns on her.

Shit!  I am supposed to get undressed.  I am eight and a half months pregnant!  What if he…what if…what if he finds me appalling to look at?  I just know I won’t be able to handle it.

But, he’s right, it’s getting to be very late, and we have to get some sleep.  Especially if we are having breakfast with Mulder at ten!

Sensing her unease, he walks up to her and places a hand on her shoulder.  “Come here, Dana.”

“What?”  She asks, suddenly feeling timid.

“Let me touch you.  I need to touch you.  To show you how much I love you.  I know certain actions cannot be done.  Not right now, but please, allow me to show you, in other ways, what you mean to me.”

She gazes into his eyes, instantly put at ease by the tone of his voice, and the gentleness with which he touches her.

He takes her face into his hands, once again, and smiles at her.  Not his devilish grin, but one more, gentle. She becomes addicted to it, too.

“I love you, Dana.  I don’t know how or why, it’s not even important.  I simply know, in my heart, that I do.”

Tearing up again, she smiles.  “I love you too, Alex.”

“Let me show you, Katya.  Let me see you.  You are beautiful to me, absolutely beautiful.  You are carrying a life within you.  A life!  To me, that is one of the most beautiful aspects of you!”  He tells her, softly, sincerely.

By the time he has finished speaking; her blouse is lying in a pile on the floor, at the foot of the bed, joined with his sweater.  She has barely realized he had taken it off of her.  She has become lost in his eyes, eyes that truly are the windows to his soul, and they speak volumes.

She reaches out and starts to unfasten his jeans, never breaking eye contact with him, as he continues to undress her, slipping her maternity pants down as far as he can, without causing her any discomfort.  She smiles up at him and then drops down, taking his jeans with her.

Their differences in height only a slight factor as she stands, he guides her to the bed, and lightly motions for her to sit, while he kicks his jeans off the rest of the way, sending them to join her blouse.

Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he kneels in front of her, slowly reaching behind her back and unclasping her bra, allowing it to fall away from her, revealing her milk-full, rounded, breasts.

She shivers when the cool air surrounds her nipples, hardening them.  He smiles at her, gently tugging her pants down her legs, while he continues to speak to her.

“You are stunning, Katya.”  He reaches up and pushes her back, gently, allowing her to lean on her elbows, with her legs hanging over the bed, not quite touching the floor.  He breaks eye contact with her, only long enough to finish taking her pants passed her ankles, and then he throws them to the ever-growing pile of fabric.

He sucks in his breath, as he returns his gaze to her, following his initial line of sight, at her tiny, albeit sore, feet, up her slim and toned legs, to her swollen belly, her creamy colored breasts that rise and fall in a gentle rhythm, finally reaching her glorious face.

Her eyes are a little wary, searching for any sign of disgust from him.  However, she can find none.  Only love.  For her.  She smiles a big, bright smile that makes him intensely want her.

Not tonight, Alex.  He admonishes himself.  Tonight is her night.

He slowly stands and walks over to turn off the light, her eyes never leaving his well defined, muscular body, as he moves across the floor.  Her eyes are drawn to the fine curvature of his back and down to his tight…

Is that silk?

...covered ass.

Sweet Mary in Heaven!  He is beautiful!

He turns, takes one last look at her in the light, and smiles widely; causing her to blush slightly at the fear of having been caught gaping at his physique.  He then clicks off the switch.

Ever so gently, she stands to remove her white cotton panties, dropping them to the floor without further thought, and begins to get into the bed.  As he walks across the room and reaches her side, he helps her to get underneath the covers.  Instinctively, she knows that he sleeps on his left side, so she scoots as quickly as she can—considering her temporary girth—all the way over to the far side of the bed, and waits anxiously for him to join her.

He pauses for a moment, taking in her beauty; reflected in the faint light coming in from the window on the east wall.  He removes his black silk briefs, revealing himself to her and, feeling only slightly odd, removes his arm and places it on the floor near the side of the bed.

Sensing his unease at now having his arm missing, she quietly beseeches him, “Come to me, Aleksei.  Let me show you, as well, how much I love you.”

He pauses momentarily; trying hard to reassure himself.

This is Dana.  It will be okay.

Smiling shyly, he joins her under the blankets.  Moving the pillows with his right hand to a more comfortable spot under his head, and staring at the ceiling, he ponders.

Okay, we have made it this far.  Which must feel like a million miles to her, too, I am sure.  But...  Now what?  Should I simply kiss her goodnight, as we do have a long day ahead of us, or…?

His thoughts are unexpectedly interrupted by the touch of her hand, playing with his chest hair.  He draws in a surprised breath.

Oh God.  What did I do to deserve this woman?

Dana knows that Alex has no choice but to either lie flat, or turn away from her, as he no longer has an elbow with which to lean.  So, watching him closely, and a little jittery as to what his reaction may be, she rises to her own elbow and places her hand on his chest, stroking him softly; entwining his dark covering of hair between her fingers.  His breathing becomes ragged, delighting her.

She is aware it is very late and that they really should get some sleep, but she cannot help herself, as she turns her eyes away from her fancy, and gazes at his expression in the faint light.  She can see he is nervous, as she is, too; however, she is unable to fight off the urge, and she lowers her head; lightly kissing and licking his left nipple.

His amazement is evident, as he once again sucks in his breath, causing her smile to broaden.  His breathing becomes shallower.  He closes his eyes and moistens his suddenly dry lips.

While licking his nipple, her hand begins to roam over his hot skin.  First through his chest hair, then up to his left collarbone, back over to his right shoulder, slightly grazing his neck on her way by, down his arm, to his hand that rests by his side, back up across his taut abdomen, over his firm pecs, then stopping at his right nipple; circling it with her fingers, causing him to moan.  “Oh.”  She suckles a tiny bit harder to keep from chuckling and repeats her motions, until he can handle it no more.

He lifts his hand to her hair, running her soft-as-silk strands through his fingers, and then moves to caress first her neck, and then down the side her face.

She grins and raises her head, ever so carefully, up from his chest, to his left collarbone, where she begins to plant soft kisses.  He returns his attention to the back of her neck, where he starts stroking her, gently lifting her hair to get to her delicate skin.

He moans softly, as she leans in closer and leaves a trail of kisses from his collarbone to the smooth curvature of where his shoulder meets his neck.  She suckles lightly at the crook, while her right hand moves to massage and explore his upper body.  She smiles when his hand moves down her naked back.  She raises her head up and takes his left earlobe into her mouth, gently raking it between her teeth.

“You taste wonderful, Aleksei.”

“Jesus.”  He hisses through clenched teeth.

He can barely tolerate the flood of sensations she is sending over his body, as he whispers, “Dana.”

She turns her head, smiling at him.  She can see his face in the pale light coming from the window across the room, and the smile she receives from him pleases her, immensely.

She slowly raises a little, and lowering her head, kisses him.  She begins tracing his lips with her tongue, until he parts them to allow her entrance.  She eagerly probes his mouth and his passion for her increases, hundredfold.

He brings his hand from around her back, up her neck and buries it into her hair, bringing her in closer, deepening their kiss.  He momentarily pulls away.

“Oh God!  Has anything ever tasted as sweet, as you do?”  He wonders aloud.

Opening his mouth a little farther, he takes possession of her lips, once more allowing her all of the access she may desire, while he, in turn, runs his tongue across her smooth white teeth.

With their breathing becoming more brisk, they break their kiss and look at each other.  No words are necessary to convey their feelings toward one another as they communicate with their eyes.

He gently, ever so tenderly, pushes her back to lie flat.  Using his right arm and his legs for leverage, he pulls himself up to a sitting position.

Watching him intently, but saying nothing, she waits as he reaches down, picks up his prosthetic, swiftly secures it in place and turns back to her.  He is grateful he need not explain to her why he has done what he has.  He can see her understanding, clearly.  He leans carefully onto his left elbow, which allows him to now touch her, the way she deserves to be touched.

She grins, as he pulls their covers away, to access her body.

Now it is her turn to feel nervous, as he gently begins rubbing her abdomen.  “You are stunning, Katya.”

She loves it when he calls her by that name.  Anyone else and she would have definitely objected, however, when he says it, it is like music to her soul.

“It’s truly amazing to realize that there is a baby inside of you.  Growing.  The miracle of life is just that, a miracle.”  He lowers his head to kiss her softly, as his hand moves across her body, in the same manner that hers had.

All thought escapes her mind except for her realization of how much she truly loves the man in bed beside her, no matter how insane it may seem to anyone else.  Yet, then again, she doesn’t care what anyone else thinks.  All that matters is him and she allows herself to drown in the feelings he is producing within her.

She brings up her hands and gently starts to massage his chest and shoulders, while he continues his exploration of her.  A soft moan escapes from the back of her throat when he starts to knead her breasts, first her right, then her left.  He smiles, pleased that he is the one permitted to bring her such pleasure.  His hand moves slowly downward, and her breath quickens.

Placing an arm around his neck, she moves her other hand slowly downward, stroking his taut stomach.  She delights in the sudden flexing of his muscles and realizes that he is ticklish.  She smiles with a gleam in her eye.  She has a momentary urge to benefit from this new revelation; however she decides to file it away for future reference.  She instead allows her hand to travel down passed his naval, to gently graze her fingers through his pubic hair.

He gasps.

She gazes into his darkened eyes; then closes her own, as his own hand has reached the destination it so sweetly sought.

She is so wet!  Jesus!

The mere touch of her causes him to harden more than he thought was ever possible.  He bites his bottom lip as he starts to lovingly stroke her clitoris with his fingers.

“Oh, yes, Aleksei.  Just like that.”  She urges.

Wanting him to feel as good as he is making her, she takes his rock-like penis in her hand and begins squeezing, gently, tenderly.  Watching the expression of his face, she manipulates the head of his cock with her skillful fingers, causing him to momentarily stop breathing, entirely.

He closes his eyes and revels in the sensations her body is giving his.

She strokes him amorously, moving her hand from the tip of him, all the way down to his scrotum, and back up again.  She repeats her movements, each time a little faster, and harder.  All the while, he is matching her, stroke by passionate stroke.

She can feel the blissful vibrations starting to build within her, as he continues to play with her clit, as though she is a fine-tuned instrument, made specifically for him.

The higher he takes her, the faster she glides her own hand, wanting nothing more than to give him the ecstasy he is giving to her.

He smiles down into her sapphire eyes and inserts a finger into her.

“Yes!  Please.  Yes!”

Oh my God!  She is so tight!

He almost loses his control at the sudden discovery he has made, and her response.  He begins to remove and insert his finger, in a slow dance, while continuing to rub her clit, with his thumb.

She is so close to the edge, she can almost see into the abyss of rapture.  She carefully removes her free arm from around his neck and brings it down between them, making soft caresses with her own fingers, as she touches his firm muscles on her journey.  When she reaches her object of her desire, she takes his scrotum into the palm of one hand and pumps his thick, long, hard cock, with the other. 

“Oh, God!”  He moans loudly, and she smiles, sliding her fingers over the head, using his pre-cum as a lubricant.

Sensing in each other, how close they are to release, they mimic each other’s movements, stroke by agonizingly wonderful, stroke; until, precisely when they are both about to stop breathing, they are each seeing stars, basking in a pleasure so total, so complete they scream out each other’s names.

 

Walter abruptly sits up in bed.

What the hell was that?

Looking around he sees nothing.  He tilts his head to the side, trying to hear it again.  Nothing but silence reaches his ears.

Must have been a dream.

He wearily lies back down and drifts back to sleep, dreaming of the owner of his favorite watering hole.

 

As Alex and Dana lie together, sated, with smiles on both of their faces, they each recall the events that have led them to this point in time.  They are unable to fully grasp this is actually happening between them.  That this is not some sort of collective hallucination they both happen to be experiencing.  A phenomenon that Dana is familiar with, but still has a hard time comprehending.

“I still can’t believe this is real, Katya.”

“Truthfully, neither can I.  However, I am very glad that it is.”

“So am I, Katya.  I love you.  More with each passing second.”  He chuckles.  “If that is even possible.”

“I love you too, Aleksei.  I love you too.”

Turning toward her and gazing into her sparkling eyes, Alex trails his hand up her body, gently massaging her swollen abdomen, causing the life within her to kick in response.

“Oh.”  Dana replies quietly, with a smile.

“Does it hurt when the baby does that?”

Having only a limited experience with children, he is intrigued, much like a child himself, who has discovered something new.  He wants to learn all he possibly can from the enchanting woman lying beside him.

“Only a little.”  She replies, surprised at his sincere interest in her pregnant state.  “Unless the baby decides to kick me, continuously, in the same place.  This happens quite often, if I don’t move around a little.”

He continues with his massage of her belly, pleased at being able to produce a response from the child within.  He cares not, that the child is not his; the fact that it is a part of Dana is enough for him.  His heart fills with love for it, as it reacts to his touch.

She caresses his upper body, in the same soft, soothing manner, and delights in watching his expression change to awe, every time her child moves.

“Lie flat, Katya.”

Curious at his request, she reaches behind her head and places the pillows under her neck and shoulders, for support, while she looks into his eyes, asking with hers, what he plans to do.

His smile widens.  “You are stunning to me, Katya.  I want...no...need, to see you, and touch you.  I want to feel you.”

She becomes lost in the husky tones of his voice, as he continues his gentle mapping of her.  She closes her eyes and experiences something for the first time in her life.

Absolute bliss.

Yes, her one night with Mulder had been memorable, yet in her heart, she knows this is different.  While Mulder had loved her, as a friend, a friend needing comfort, this man loves her like no other before him.  He loves her with his mind, his body, and his soul.

This man can do whatever he pleases with her and she will allow it, as he will allow her, for she understands; he would rather die than hurt her.

She feels an overwhelming sense of endearment and protectiveness toward him, and she smiles while he carefully, lovingly, outlines her features.  Gliding his hand down slowly, from her jaw line to her neck, he softly traces the contours of where it meets her shoulder.  He slides his hand down to her breasts, gently kneading one, and then the other, taking mental notes for future reference, as to each place her breath starts to quicken.  He listens, intently, to the sound her breathing makes, as he memorizes her every curve, smiling at her sharp intake of air, when he touches upon a hardened nipple.  He does not want to excite her too much, though.  He only wants to feel her underneath his fingers, and relax her.  As he reaches her tummy, his smile broadens, and he chuckles.

“Katya?”

“Hmmm?”  She asks, sleepily.

“Do you have any idea, how beautiful you really are?”

“Hmmm, I’m beginning to think that you are a little biased, Aleksei.”  She replies, barely audible.

“No.  I have always known you were pretty.  Now, as I touch you?  I know you are, in fact, truly stunning.”

She smiles in response, softly caressing his face and neck, then her hands starts to gently fall to the bed, between them.  He can see she is just about to drift off to sleep.  He lowers his face down to hers, kisses her gently and whispers, “Have sweet dreams, My Lady, for no one will ever hurt you again.  I swear it with my life.”  She smiles and turns away from him in her sleep, placing her back to his chest, as he lays down fully, cuddling up to her.  With his arm around her and a smile on his face, Alex closes his eyes and joins her in sleep.

 

Hegal Place
2:12 a.m. 

Sitting in his living room, on his beloved leather couch, drinking coffee, Monica and Mulder are engaging in a conversation about his experiences with the X-Files.

“What made you realize that you would rather work from the basement, than stay with Violent Crimes?”

“I became tired of seeing all of the shit that our society is capable of.  Rapes, murders, kidnappings.  It was becoming too hard for me to handle, emotionally.  Especially with all of the other things I was dealing with, on a personal level.  The breakup of my marriage, the fact that I had become convinced that Samantha had been abducted by aliens.  Something that I now know was not entirely true, though not entirely false, either.  I was looking for something new.  Some way to get my mind off of my own problems.

“I came across the X-Files over lunch one day, while killing time at the office.  I found it intriguing that no one else in the Bureau had any interest in the unsolved cases.  I showed Diana, on a night when we were actually speaking, and she told me to go for it.”  He pauses, taking a sip from his cup.

“Had I known then, what I know…now…that Spender had in some way, gotten to my wife and offered her a position within his group, tracking women with implanted chips, I would most likely have stayed away.  I would have fought to save her.  But, I didn’t, so I told Bill Patterson I wanted the X-Files.  He didn’t care for me much, or I for him, therefore he was more than happy to have found a way to let me go.

“Of course, he probably thought I would be back within a few weeks or months.  But when the months turned into almost two years, and I began focusing on Samantha’s abduction, someone, somewhere, took notice.  That is when they sent Scully to me, as a partner.”  Mulder finishes his summarization, of the events that started what would ultimately lead to his own abduction, again sipping from his cup, remembering his first encounter with his partner.

She was so green.  I just knew she was sent to spy on me.  But we fooled them.  In the end, she became my staunchest ally.

He smiles.

“Do you mind?”  Monica asks him, interrupting his thoughts.

“Hmm?”  He asks, bringing his attention back to her.  “I’m sorry, Monica.  What were you saying?”

“I asked, if you would mind if I have a cigarette.”  She replies, a little embarrassed.  “I really am trying to quit.  It’s just so damn hard.  I don’t know which is worse, the shit that the cigarettes are doing to me, or the attitude that I tend to give others, when I go through withdrawals.”

He chuckles.  “Well, Scully would definitely say the shit that it is doing to your body, but, I’ve heard that quitting smoking can be harder than quitting heroin.  No, I don’t mind.”  He stands and moves to the bookcase across from his desk, next to the television.  “In fact, I even have an ashtray.”  He retrieves the tray from the shelf and places it on the coffee table, in front of her.

“You don’t smoke.”  She states, wondering why he would have such a thing in his possession.

“You are correct.  However, I have, on occasion, been known to have an unexpected visitor that does; did.  So, I bought one.  Even though he was unwelcome here, which he knew, I at least wanted him to use the damn thing.”

“Would he?”  She asks, understanding whom he is referring to, but refusing to allow the man’s name to pass her lips.

He smiles.  “Actually, yes.”

She looks at him, surprised.  Certain the man they speak of would not be so respectable.

He laughs at her reaction.  “I know.  Shocked the hell out of me, too.”

She laughs with him, watching him intently.  She is a little pensive, but still feels the need to ask him the question that burns in her mind.

As she lights her Morley, and takes a deep drag, she grabs a hold of her nerve.  Upon exhaling she asks, “Who was he, Mulder?  If you don’t mind my asking.”

He looks at her, surprised she would have an interest in the dead man, especially after all that they had both heard from Krycek.  “He was an evil man, Monica.  Though, toward the end, he had seemed to mellow out a bit.  At least, Scully believes he did.  But me?  I would have to agree with Krycek.  He was pure evil.  He did not care about whom he hurt, or how many lives he destroyed, as long as he achieved what he desired.  In the end, it appears he received what he deserved.”  He pauses to stand and warm up their cups.

Upon returning from the kitchen, he continues.

“Of course, if it had been me?  The one who had the luxury of killing Spender?  I would have done a lot more than simply push him down a flight of stairs.  However, the end result would have been the same, so it really doesn’t matter.  As long as he is dead, I am happy.”

She knows not how to reply, so she says nothing.

This doesn’t bother Mulder.  He doesn’t really expect her to say anything, anyway.  She was never afflicted by the bastard.

“Anything else you want to know, Monica?”  He asks with a smile.  “I mean, since we are in the phase, it appears, of telling secrets and making realizations?”

Taking a drag from her cigarette, she looks at him.

Oh, there are definitely a lot of things I would like to know about you, besides all that I have already heard.  Where the hell do I begin?

“What’s your favorite color?”  She abruptly asks.

“What?”  He inquires, completely thrown by her question, as he returns to his seat.

“I said, ‘What is…’”

“No, I heard you.  I’m just surprised, is all.”  He grins at her.  “I would have to say: clear.”

“Clear is not a color, Mulder.”  She chuckles, as she puts out her Morley and takes a sip of her coffee.”

His grin widens.  “Sure it is.  You have translucent, transparent, and of course, there is opaque.  I prefer transparent, however opaque can be nice, too.”

Watching him, she realizes he is teasing her.  Her own smile widens, too.  “You really are a smart ass, aren’t you?”

He laughs.  “But, of course.  If you’d been through the shit that I have, you would be, too.  Blue.  My favorite color is blue.  Yours, Agent Reyes?”  He questions, looking at her closely.

“Normally, I would say black, but that sounds very cliché, so I will go with pink.  Not that that doesn’t sound cliché, either.”  She chuckles.

“Pink and Blue.  How cozy.”  He quips, with his big, loopy grin plastered on his face.

“Yes, how quaint.”  She smirks back at him.

They settle against the back of the couch, not uncomfortable, but not exactly knowing what to say, either.  Quite remarkable, for two people who love to talk.

After a few more moments with the only sounds being heard those of the fish tank, and their own breathing, Mulder turns to her.  “Are you really willing to turn your whole life upside down to move here to DC?  To work on the X-Files?”

“Certainly.  However, I would not exactly say I was turning my life upside down.  I don’t have much of a life to begin with.  Except for my job.”

“Oh, really?  Pretty girl like you?”  He asks, causing her to blush a little.

“No, Mulder.  Not much of one.  I spend most of my time in the field.  When I do go home, I usually spend a couple of hours on the ‘Net, chatting with friends who always seem to live elsewhere, and then I go to bed.  Only to start all over again the next day.  Like I said, not much of a life.”  She laughs.

“Occasionally, I’ll receive a call from John.  You know, mainly to say hi.  To catch up on the latest goings on in each other’s lives.  That’s how I ended up being brought in on the case of finding you.

“He had called me up, told me how he was at the end of his rope, and I offered my services.  I met him in Montana, where he presented the case to me and introduced me to Assistant Director Skinner and Dana.”  She smiles.

“Let me be honest with you, meeting her for the first time was nerve-wracking, to say the least.  I could see that she was in pain, but she was hiding it quite well.  Oh, and was she pissed!  She couldn’t believe that John had called me up from New Orleans.  She thought, at first, that I was not taking her seriously, until.”  She pauses to take a sip of her coffee.

“Until she ran into me in the hospital that Theresa Hoese had been taken.  She saw me standing in front of some film, analyzing the images.  She asked me what I was doing.  I told her I was looking for implants.

“I would have to say that that moment is when we became friends, though she didn’t say anything to that affect at the time.  I think it was simply the fact that I was looking for them; it seemed to change her mind about me.  She had asked me why I was doing that, if I was not a believer in the phenomena of “Alien Abduction”.  I laughed softly at her, reminding her that I had never said I didn’t believe, and that I do like to keep an open mind.

“I told her that I felt, based on the evidence that John had presented to me, you had not been abducted, but very well could belong to a UFO cult.”

“You told her that?!”  He asks, incredulously, imagining how Scully must have reacted to hearing her take on the case.

“Of course, I did.  I had to be honest with her, and as I said, from looking at the evidence that is how it appeared to me.  There was nothing physical to go on, Mulder, other than Skinner’s eye-witness account of your abduction.  It helped, though, to cement in my mind his account, and dismiss my own opinion, after seeing the ship for myself on the night that you were returned.”

He watches her; still unable to believe that she is so willing to admit to what she had seen.  He shudders, slightly.

“What is it, Mulder?”  She inquires, looking at his face.  “Am I bothering you by speaking about Them?”

“No.  I’m okay.  Just a bit, self-conscious, I guess you could say.”

“Self-conscious?  About what?”

He looks away momentarily, and then turns to gaze into her eyes, while pointing to his own face.

“These.”

He then extends his arms, exposing his wrists.

“These.”

He bends over and pulls up his pant leg, pushing down a sock.

“These.”

Finally, he leans back against the couch, lifting his tee shirt up from the waist of his jeans to show her his chest.

“This.”

He lowers his shirt and looks down at the floor, unable to tolerate the disgust he fears he will see in her eyes.

“Mulder.”  She says gently, understanding fully that she is standing on shaky ground.  “There is absolutely no need to feel self-conscious about those marks.

“Number one: you had no control over what happened to you.

“Number two: they will fade away.  In fact, your face already looks better, just compared to last night, when I first saw you.

“Number three: if you actually believe that I would be interested in you, solely based on your looks, then you are either a.) Very shallow, which I know you are not, or b.) You do not give me enough credit.  I find you attractive for what I see inside you.

“You have a brilliant mind, and a killer sense of humor.  I would be attracted to you if you were green with polka dots.”

He bursts out laughing.  “You have got to be kidding.”

“I am serious, Mulder.  If anything, your injuries only prove to me how brave you are to have lived through an ordeal, such as the one you are recovering from.  Shit, I must sound like an idiot.  I’m sorry.  Normally I don’t ramble.  I can’t explain what has come over me.”  In her nervousness, she lights another cigarette.

He looks at himself, at his wrists, touches his face and peers back at her.

“Monica?”

He stops, fidgets a little, and begins again.

“What happened to me; up there, or wherever we were.  What happened to me is the stuff that good movie makers can only dream of portraying in a horror flick.  Except, it was not a horror flick.  It happened.

“I close my eyes and I see Them.  Plus…the images in my head…?”

He raises his shirt again, revealing the dark, purple-red line that runs vertically from his abdomen to the junction of his collarbones.  “This, this was caused by a blade, much like the type you would find on a table saw.”  He lets go of his shirt, returning his hands to his cup of coffee, now tepid.

“Mulder.  Please, you don’t have to do this.”  She replies, quietly.  “You do not need to tell me.  Especially if it’s too painful.”  She reaches for his hand while putting out her cigarette.

“It’s all right.  Really.  Besides, who else can I tell?

“I most certainly can’t tell Scully.  I mean, yes, as my doctor she has seen them, and I’m sure she has questions, but, in the delicate state she’s in?  I can’t put her through the pain that I know she would feel, by telling her about what was done to me.

“She still wrestles with her own demons regarding her own abduction.  Even years later.

“I want to tell you.  You remind me a lot of her, yet, you also remind me of me.  Am I making any sense?”

“Yes, please, go on.”  She squeezes his hand, reassuringly.  “Don’t worry about trying to make sense, either.  I think I can understand the gist of what you are saying.”

He smiles at her; grateful for finally having someone he can talk to, besides Scully.

“Are you all right?”  She asks, concerned when he doesn’t continue.

“Yes.”  He takes a sip from his mug, not caring that his beverage is cold.  Rather, he is thankful that he even has the chance to savor the taste.  He takes a deep breath, and then speaks.

“They performed a lot of tests on me.  I told you about the out-of-body-experience I had, yet it still gives me the creeps.  Especially, when I realize that it actually was me these things happened to.”

Suddenly curious about something, Monica asks, “Mulder, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“I want to ask you a few questions, actually.”

“A few questions?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”  He looks at her, having no idea what to expect.

“All right, if this becomes too uncomfortable, let me know.  But I would like to test a theory.”

Ever intrigued, Mulder looks curiously at her and agrees.  “Okay.”

“All right, here goes.  I’m simply going to ask you a few questions, and I only need a yes or no answer.”

“All right.”

She takes a deep breath and starts her gentle interrogation.  “Okay.  You told all of us earlier that you were seated in a chair like structure, on the ship.”

“Yes.”

“You were naked.”  She blushes a little at her own statement, but she has to do this.  She must prove to herself that the bond between him and Scully truly is like that of twins.  She has a feeling that it is something that will prove ever more useful for them, in the future.

He grins at her but, for once, keeps his smartass remarks to himself and replies, “Yes.”

“Did you have devices in each side of your face, pulling the skin taut?”

Becoming more than a little nervous, he states, “Yes.  That’s what caused these marks.”

“Did you ever have an instrument, like a whole cutter or something, thrust into the roof of your mouth, as you were screaming Dana’s name?”

Shaking at this point, he looks at her, deathly pale.  “Yes.”  He says, almost inaudibly.  “How do you know these things, if I have not yet spoken about them?”

She lights another cigarette, anxious as hell.  “I wanted to see if I was right.  You have just proved that I am.”

“Right about what?”

“About a bond that you and Dana have, a bond that nothing will be able to break, no matter who may come into your lives.”

“How did you know what happened to me, Monica?”  He asks, suddenly overcome by an intense wave of paranoia.  “No one could have known those events, unless they were there.”  He swiftly stands, moving away from her.

She knew the response she would most likely receive, thus, she is not distressed in the least, by his reaction.  “Dana told me.”

He starts pacing the floor, in front of his coffee table.  “What do you mean Scully told you?  How would she know?  I didn’t tell her.  I just told you, I couldn’t tell her.”

“She dreamed it.”

“What?!”  He asks, halting in front of her.  His eyes loom large in his handsome face.

“Calm down, Mulder, please.”  She says soothingly, wanting to keep him from panicking.

“What do you mean she dreamed it?”

“Recently, before you were found to be, alive, Dana revealed to me during a conversation that she had been having severe nightmares.  She confessed to me that she had been suffering from visions of what was happening to you, before you were found in Montana.”

“Nightmares?”  He asks, sitting down beside her once more.

“We had been talking about symptoms of her pregnancy, or side effects, rather.  One being that some women experience extremely vivid nightmares.”

“She told you that she dreamed about me?”

“Yes and…no.  I am telling you that all of her ‘nightmares’ involved you.  Everything you just told me, she dreamed.”

He leans back and places his head on the couch, taking a deep breath.  “Oh, God!  I had no idea!”

“How could you?  She never told anyone, except me, about them.  Not Assistant Director Skinner and, most certainly, not her mother.  She was afraid that if she did, either people would think she really was crazy, or her mother would most likely try to move in, and shelter her from what she needed to do.”

“Which was?”

“Find you.”

“Jesus, Monica!”

“Mulder, it’s okay.  She doesn’t know that they were real.  As far as she knew, they were simply that, dreams.  Nightmares.  Most likely brought on by the extreme stress she was feeling because of the situation.”

“But they were not ‘just dreams’ Monica!  She was seeing, in her sleep, everything that was happening to me.  Holy shit!  It is as if we were…”

“Twins.”

“…twins or something.”  He looks at her, realizing she said “twins”, when he did.  He looks down at the coffee table.  “So now what?”  He asks her.  “Do I keep silent?  Pretend that what happened didn’t?  Or tell her that what she dreamed was, in fact, reality?”

“I cannot give you the answer to that, Mulder.  You have to do what you feel is necessary.  What you must decide is: does it matter?  You are home again, and you are fine.  In perfect health.  Do you feel you must tell her your experiences?  As she is your doctor?  Or, do you think you could get by without letting her in on the details?”

He ponders her questions, tapping the side of his cup.

“She already knows that I know.”  He states, matter of factly; abruptly recalling the gasp Scully had made when he had made mention of being in the chair surrounded by Alien Bounty Hunters.

“How do you know that?”

“From her reaction earlier.  Remember?  When I had mentioned the chair?”

Monica nods, understanding dawning for her, too, as to why Dana had reacted the way she had, before she had pulled him into her arms.

“I will need to tell her that I know she knows.  If not for anything more, than because she is both my doctor, and my friend.  I need to reassure her that I am okay.  I must also give her insight, as to the real damage those bastards are inflicting on the abductees.”

“What about Billy Miles?”

“What about him?”  Mulder asks, placing his cup down on the table and leaning back against the couch, stretching out his stiffening legs.

“I understand we need to know what to do, in order to help the abductees; what with the injuries they seem to sustain, but, we also must find out about him.  How is it that Billy Miles was able to shed his skin and literally become a new person?”

“He did what?!”  Mulder asks, trying hard to remember if Scully had mentioned this news to him.  Deciding that she had not, he implores to Monica, “Please, continue.”

“She and John were in your room, before you awoke from your coma, when a nurse came rushing in stating that she had news about Billy Miles.  Dana and John went out after the nurse and found that Billy Miles had not only awoken, but he was a ‘new person’, to quote Dana.  After the initial shock wore off, Dana performed a series of tests on him, including a blood workup, and found that he had absolutely nothing wrong with him.”

“Nothing?”  Mulder asks, skeptically.

“Nothing.  Not a scratch was on him.  All of his electrolytes were normal, all of his organs appeared to be working just fine, and he looked virtually perfect.”

“Virtually perfect?”

“Mulder.  He was completely healed.  That is what I’m trying to tell you.  Dana even had a coherent conversation with him, much to John’s dismay.”

“Why would it bother John, if Scully talked to Billy?  We knew him from Oregon.  He is a harmless kid.”

“John just feels that there is something off about him.”

“Off?”

“Yes.  Billy Miles, this Billy Miles, is not the same man.  Even Dana is convinced there is something different about him.”

“Wait, you just said that Scully thinks he is in perfect health.”

“That is what bothers her.  There is no way, no medical way possible, that he could not at least have some form of brain or lung damage.”

“Monica.  I am in perfect health.”

“That is different.  That is to say, I feel it is different.  You were in a coffin for three months, perfectly preserved, in a sense.  Billy Miles?  He was found floating in the Atlantic Ocean.  It appeared that he had been there for days, if not weeks.

“We already know that the virus which made you ill made your body slow down, just to the brink of death.  Actually allowing it to appear that you were, in fact, dead.  Yet this thing with Billy?

“It rubs me the wrong way, too.  There should have been, at the very least, lung damage from all of the salt water.  There should have been brain damage, from floating in the ocean for so long.  It just doesn’t seem right to me.”

Mulder starts laughing.  “Oh, and being with a former dead guy, like me, who spent three months six feet under the Carolina soil, is all right with you?”

Monica stares at him as though he has grown a second head.  “I didn’t mean it like that.”  She replies defensively.

He looks at her, quieting his laughter.  “I’m sorry, Monica.  I wasn’t laughing at you.  I merely…shit.  I don’t know that story just seems so…out there.  I don’t see the difference between the two of us.”

Now it is her turn to laugh.  “What?!  You are Fox Mulder!  You have spent the greater part of ten years dealing with things that are ‘out there’.”

“Yes, but Billy Miles, as a new and perfect man?  What is exactly wrong with that?”

“I didn’t say he was a man, Mulder.  I just said he was perfectly healthy.”

“What do you mean?  ‘Not a man’?”

“Mulder.  He is alien.  That is what I have been trying to explain to you.  Billy Miles is not the same, as he was before.  He is someone else.  Something else, entirely.”

“Holy shit!”

“Yes.”  Monica agrees, looking at the clock on the VCR, underneath the television.

Two-forty-seven?  Christ, it’s later than I thought!

“Mulder, I think that we should talk more about this tomorrow, at breakfast.  Dana and John can explain it better than I.  They were there.  I simply wanted to know if you have any ideas on how to deal with him.  But, since you really didn’t know about him, then that too, should be a topic of discussion.”

“Yes.  Let’s talk more about this in the morning.  Given the time, we really should just go to bed.”

Monica stares at him.

Bed?  As in, me, stay here?

Noting her reaction, he chuckles.  “Monica, I don’t bite.  I promise.  I’ll take the couch, and you can take the bed.  It used to be a waterbed, but, I sprung a leak last year, and replaced the water mattress with a pillow top.  I do hope, though,” he blushes, “that you don’t mind the mirrors.”

“Mirrors?”  She asks curiously, a smile creeping across her face.  “Why would I mind mirrors?”

He can see that she clearly enjoys teasing him, and it makes him laugh.  “You are definitely a unique one, Monica.”

“Thank you, Mulder.  I will take that as a compliment.”

He stands up and takes her hand, helping her to rise.  “You should.  Come on, I’ll show you the way.”

She smiles at him, enjoying the attention, yet still marveling at his chivalry.  They both know she does not need any help in finding his bedroom, yet she cannot help but humor him.  He makes her feel special, and she doesn’t want the feeling to fade, simply because it is time for some sleep.

So like Scully, yet, so different.  How odd.  It took me eight years to get Scully this far.  But Monica?  Shit, less than forty-eight hours.

What do you mean by ‘far’ there, Mulder?  What exactly are you planning on doing with her.

Nothing.  She is special.  I will be damned before I attempt to do something stupid.

Why are you always as blind as a bat, Mulder?  Can’t you see she is interested?

Oh, so that means that I am just supposed to go for it, our second night together?

You have a point.  But, do not go waiting another eight years on this one.

I may be crazy, but I am not insane.

Monica watches the various expressions play across his face, indicating to her he is having some sort of argument with himself.

She smiles.  Her intuition telling her: It is about you.  You do realize that, don’t you?

Yes, but…I’m not going to say a thing.  He is recovering from a serious trauma.  I will not be accused of even seeming to be taking advantage of him.

Good decision, but…if the chance presents itself?

Hahaha.  I may be crazy, but I’m not insane.  Did I mention I think I am falling in love with him?

What the hell makes you think that?

Have you looked at him?  He is gorgeous!  Have you listened to him?  He is brilliant!

Touché.

She suddenly realizes that she is thinking to herself as though she was two separate people, and she grins.

I really need some sleep!

With her hand in his, he guides her across the living room into the bedroom, flicking on the light as they enter.

The room is very tidy and the bed is neatly made.

Scully is so funny!  He thinks, moving toward it, to pull down the blankets.

“Would you like some sweats or something?  You know, to sleep in?”  He asks, noting how she does not exactly have her duffle bag with her.

“That would be nice, thank you.  I left my bag at the hotel.”

“Not a problem.”  He says, walking to his dresser and pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt.  Grey with “New York Knicks” embroidered across the front.

“The Knicks?”  She asks, amused.

“Of course.  The best basketball team in the NBA.”

“You have been gone awhile, haven’t you?”  She asks, with a twinkle in her eye.

“Oh really?”  He mockingly drawls.  “Just what is that supposed to mean?”

“LA, Mulder.  The Los Angeles Lakers, all the way.”

He laughs.  “Well, the next time they play each other we’ll just have to have a friendly wager, now won’t we?”

“You bet.”  She says, joining him in laughter.

He hands her the clothes.  “Okay.  If you need anything, I’ll be in the living room.”

“All right.”

“Good night, Monica.”  He says, leaning in and placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Good night, Mulder.”  She replies, smiling at his sweet gesture.

He turns to leave, while her eyes follow him.

“I’ll be right outside, if you need me.”  He reiterates, stalling for time so he can still be near her, yet knowing that they must get some sleep.

“Okay.  I will be sure to let you know if I need anything.”  She smiles.

He reaches the door, takes one more glance at her, “Night.” then pulls it shut, on his way out.

“Good night.”  She whispers.

Once he leaves, and she is safely hidden from view behind the closed door, she falls to the bed, breathless.  She cannot help but smile.

He is so cute!  He acts like a teenager or something.  He is adorable.

With a smile still widely displayed on her pretty face, she places her gun on the nightstand, takes off all of her clothing, and then puts on his sweats.

Should I have mentioned that I usually sleep in the nude?

And what, give him a heart attack?

Right, too much information, for the moment.

She chuckles, again realizing she is carrying on a silent conversation with herself.  She crawls into the bed, and pulls the covers up to her chin.

Good bye, New Orleans.  Hello, DC.  She thinks, as she falls asleep, almost instantly.

 

Mulder listens intently for any noises that she may make and, after feeling satisfied that she is okay, he walks over to his leather couch.  Staring down at it, an odd feeling washes over him.

I must be insane!  There is a beautiful woman lying in my bed, and I am out here?

So, what are you going to do about it?  Walk back in and ask to join her?

No way.  The couch will do.  Again.

He quickly pulls off his shirt, leaving on his tee, grabs his familiar pillow and sinks to the couch, for the first time in six months.  Yet, instead of reveling at the familiarity of it, he stares at the bedroom door, and sighs.

You are pathetic!

He quickly stands back up, strips down to his black silk boxers, and lies back on the couch, placing his left hand underneath his head.

Oh shut up and go to sleep.

He closes his eyes and quickly drifts off.

 

5:29 a.m.

 

Monica’s eyes pop open, as she listens intently to the prevailing silence of the room.

“No!  Don’t touch me, you son of a bitch!”

What the hell was that?

“Get away from me!”

Reaching for her gun, she props herself up, trying to figure out what she has heard.

Did I really just hear something?

No, you’re imagining things.

Silence.

Okay, it was nothing.

She places her gun back down on the table, and slips back underneath the blankets.

“No!  Please, no more!  What do you want from me?!”

That is Mulder!

Jumping out of bed, Monica grabs her gun, and quickly darts for the door, thankful that she does have clothes on, and opens it.  She moves swiftly, yet carefully, through the living room, finding no one about.

“No!  I said get the fuck away from me!”

He’s having a nightmare!

She quickly walks to the couch and kneels by Mulder’s side.  She then quietly places her gun on the coffee table, and gently reaches out to him, placing her hands on his chest and shoulder.

“Mulder.”  She whispers, slightly shaking him.  “Mulder, wake up.”

He jerks away from her touch, violently.

Good going, Mon!  Don’t touch him!  Talk to him!

“Mulder?”  She tries again, this time with her hands hovering at her sides.  “Mulder, wake up, you’re having a nightmare.”

“No!  Don’t do that!”

His words frighten her.  They are full of fear and anguish, causing her the utmost in pain and she knows that she must wake him, or they will both continue to suffer.  She leans in and places a hand, tentatively, onto his shoulder.

“Mulder?  Mulder, wake up.  You must wake up.”  She quietly pleads to him.

He moans, “Stop hurting me, please.  Just stop hurting me.”

Feeling helpless, and knowing she is getting nowhere, she grabs a hold of both of his arms, to keep him from accidentally hitting her, and shakes him, lightly.

“Mulder.”

His eyes open, and he jumps.  Clearly startled by what he sees.

“Monica?  What’s wrong?  Are you okay?”

Stunned at his words, she gazes at him.  “Mulder, I am fine.  You, on the other hand, were having a nightmare, and screaming out in your sleep.  I came out here to wake you.”

She drops her hands, as he pulls himself up to a sitting position.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to wake you.  What time is it?”

She turns and glances at the clock on the VCR.

“It is eleven minutes to six.”

“Damn.  I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.  It’s not your fault.  You couldn’t exactly control yourself.”

“I’ll be all right, Monica.  You can go back to bed now.  Thank you, though.”

“Not without you.”  She says, surprising him.  She looks away.  “I mean, you’re welcome, but I won’t go back to bed without you.”

“What?”  He asks her, more than a little taken aback at her boldness.

“Not without you.  You have been through too much, Mulder.  I feel that it’s for the best that you…um…”  She suddenly realizes what it is she is saying, and how he must be translating her words.

“I just don’t want you to be alone.”

He smiles at her in the dim light from the fish tank.  “I’m fine, Monica.  Really.”

“Yes.  Well, that may be true, but you gave me quite a fright, and that’s not exactly an easy thing to do.  I would like it very much if you would join me.  I’m not used to hearing fear in a man’s voice.”

“Fear?”

“Yes, fear.  God, Mulder!  I’m so sorry that you had to endure such pain from those fucking assholes!”  She states, angrily.

His smile widens.  “Such language, Miss Reyes.”  He says, trying to alleviate the tension.  “You know, Monica, you are cute when you are angry.”

She stares at him, completely mystified, as she settles down onto the floor beside the couch.

“Please, Mulder.  Join me.  Forget about everything else and let’s just go to bed.”

“What do you mean, ‘everything else’?”

“I mean…”  She stops.

What do I mean?

What the hell am I supposed to say?  That I am falling in love with you and I don’t want you sleeping alone on the damn couch?  That I can’t handle hearing you scream about monsters from another world, knowing that there is not a damn thing I can do about it?

“I would just feel better if you were not alone out here on the couch.”

Oh Christ, do you know how lame that sounded?  She rebukes herself.

He grins at her.  “All right.  If it will make you feel better.”

She sighs quietly with relief.

“Monica?”

“Yes, Mulder?”  She asks, looking at him, trying to tear her gaze away from his, but not having any luck.

“I am sorry I scared you.”

“Don’t be.  It wasn’t your fault.  However, and you can tell me to mind my own business if you want to, but...I do think that maybe you should, in the very least, ask Dana if she can prescribe you something to help you sleep.  Something that might be able to eliminate the nightmares.”

“Monica, I’m not sure there is anything that can help me, with regard to the nightmares.”

She gazes at him for a moment, lost in the pain of his eyes.

What do I say to that?

Do not say anything.  Just.  Do.

“Than let me try to help you, Mulder.”  She replies, unexpectedly closing the gap between them, her face mere inches from his.

“How?”  He whispers, intrigued by her actions.  Jesus, what is going on here?

“With this, for starters.”  She brings her arms up and gently places one around his neck.  Reaching up with the other hand, she touches his face, bringing it down to hers, and then kisses him lightly.

He suddenly reaches for her face with his own hands, and deepens their kiss.

After a few breathtaking moments, he stands, and then leads her, slowly, toward the bedroom door.  While crossing the room, he breaks their kiss just long enough to pull his shirt over her head, and throw it to the floor.

She begins a thorough ravaging of his chest, with gentle hands, through the thin cotton of his tee shirt, knowing that she must get it off soon, or she will go insane with the desire to touch his bare skin.

She then breaks their kiss, pulls it over his head, and beckons his hot tongue back into her mouth.  She throws his shirt to the floor to join the other.

Just outside the bedroom door, Mulder breaks their kiss a third time, reluctantly, and leaning over, places one arm around her torso, the other below her knees and picks her up, carrying her over the threshold.

Walking swiftly to the bed, he gently lays her down upon it and proceeds to remove his sweatpants from her long, lean legs.  After this task has been completed, he stands, momentarily gazing over her supple body.  “God, you are beautiful!”

Seeing her naked, in all of her glory, he hastily removes his boxers and lays down beside her, while she stares at him, her eyes full of smoldering longing.

The hunger of only a moment ago returns to him, hundredfold, along with trepidation.

Shit!  I have been in a box for the past three months, what if?  What if…

“Mulder.  Please.”  She says softly, understanding his fear.  “Please, just touch me.  That will be enough.  I promise.”

He smiles and places his hands gently on her face, lightly tracing her features, as she continues to gaze at him, a hungry look in her eyes.

Her mind is screaming: Is this really happening?  Yet, she simply lies there, calm, allowing him to move at his own pace.

She revels in the sheer nearness of him and his touch, and she smiles, as he continues his exploration of her face and neck.  She tenderly reaches up and starts caressing his face, while running the fingers of her other hand through the soft tendrils of chestnut hair on his upper body.

He momentarily shies away from her touch of him on his scarred chest.  She watches him, conveying with her eyes, that it is all right.  She will not hurt him.

Oh God, how I want to kill those bastards that did this to you!

She gently places a hand in the middle of his chest, persuading him to lie flat, as she rises over him and then lowers her head, burying her lips in his chest hair.  She slowly, gently, places small kisses along the line of his injury, tasting her sudden tears, as they mix with the sweat of his anxious body.  All the while, her hands explore his arms and his abdomen in places she would have only thought possible, in a dream.

She looks up at him and he smiles, tears in his own eyes.

They say nothing, as they enjoy the motions of their hands; discovering every crevice and curve of each other’s bodies, leaving no inch of skin untouched.

Rolling her over, Mulder rises, lost in the delicious feelings she invokes in him.

Jesus!  I have never felt this way about anyone before, not even Dana!  What is it about this woman that enchants me so?

Moving over her, he places a hand upon her inner left thigh, stroking her soft skin.  She opens fully for him, splaying her hands across his broad chest.  She kneads his shoulders with her fingers, and then glides them down his back, grabbing his ass with both hands, sending shock waves of electricity through him.

He follows her lead and without any more hesitation, buries himself inside her, to the base of his long, thick shaft.

Oh my God!  She is so hot!

“Oh yes!”  She cries out, causing luscious joy to overcome him, making him realize that he, alone, can bring her such pleasure.

He remains still for a moment longer, and then starts his dance of exquisite torture.  Slowly, he moves out of her, until he has almost left the warmth of her, only to slide back into her welcoming velvet.

She allows him to lead for a few more seconds, however she can only handle his torture for so long and upon his next rhythmic entrance, she grabs his ass and thrusts up to meet him, denying him leave.  He gazes down at her and she grins, letting him know that enough is enough.  She wants it all.  She wants him, and she wants him right now.

He quickens his pace and pumps harder and deeper into her, as she wraps her legs around his waist.  Her desire to have every beautiful inch of him within her, immense.

Oh, Jesus!  She is so fucking tight!  And wet!

He moans, as he feels the vibrations of pleasure begin to build within his scrotum.

She claws at his back, needing to find her own release, but not wanting the splendid sensations he is giving her to end.  She meets him, thrust for thrust, and screams out his name, as her entire body shakes with the ecstasy he’s creating within her.

He can control his own bliss no longer, as he feels her body tighten around his rock hard cock.  He lets go with everything he has and thrusts deeper into her, as far as physically able, crying out, “Oh God!” to her “Yes, yes, yes!”

A few moments after they come down from their combined high, he pulls out of her, gently rolls to her side and grips her entire body to his.  No words need spoken, as they caress and kiss each other softly.

When sleep finally takes them, there are no more nightmares.