Finally

I got home that night around six. I stopped at the dry cleaner’s to pick up a few of my dress suits, most of which were either covered with questionable and unidentifiable green goo or mercilessly torn at the hems and seams. The man who does my dry cleaning always gives me odd looks when I pick up my clothes, but I offer no explanation for the abuse of my wardrobe. I merely smile, pay, and walk out. Let him wonder.

I spent the rest of the evening straightening my apartment, which was already too neat, and working on a couple of old case files. I stayed up later than I usually do; I suppose I was waiting for Mulder to call. I waited in vain, though, and with considerable disappointment shuffled into bed at the ungodly hour of 1AM.

Several hours later, 4:26AM according to my digital alarm clock, the phone beside my bed rang suddenly, startling me awake. I picked up the receiver and held it to my ear, muttering a sleep ridden “hello”.

”May I speak to Dana Scully?” It was a man’s voice I didn’t recognize, which elicited immediate suspicion from me. Working on the x-files for six years will do that to you.

”Who is this?” I said with tones of accusation playing in my voice.

”My name is Edward Randle, I’m an MD at the Fredricksburg county hospital. I’m sorry to wake you, but I have some unfortunate news.”

Shit, who died now….

”Yes, go on.” I sat up in bed, fear beginning to coil in the pit of my stomach.

”Fox Mulder has been shot. He has you listed of his next of kin, I would have notified you sooner, but-“

”Mulder’s been shot! How bad is it? Is he all right?!”

”The bullet entered through his middle abdomen. None of his vital organs were harmed, but the force of the blow did break several of his ribs. He was bleeding profusely when he arrived at the hospital, but we were able to stabilize him enough for the OR. The surgery was successful, and he’s doing remarkably well considering the severity of his injury. It’s a little early to tell, we’re still monitoring his vitals, but I except a full recovery.”

”Thank God. Is he awake, can I see him?”

”He hasn’t come out of the anesthesia yet, but you’re welcome to come down.”

”Thank you, I will. Good-bye.” I hung up the phone with a trembling hand and let out a stifled sob. As my heart began beating again I sprang from my bed, rushing to dress. I didn’t really care how I looked. The most important thing right now was getting to the hospital.

I had trouble driving to Fredricksburg; I could barely concentrate on the road. I somehow managed to make it there alive and was led by nurse to the recovery room where Mulder slep
Th
The only light in the room came from a florescent lamp directly above the bed, casting odd shadows in the darkened corners. Mulder was lying propped up in the bed, his eyes shut and an oxygen tube in his mouth. The heart monitor beeped like a metronome, assuring me that he was indeed alive. I hesitantly approached the bed and took a seat next to him. I clasped one of his hands in both of mine, allowing a stream of tears to fall from my eyes as I though of how close I was to losing him. I had seen the x-rays; if that bullet had entered an inch further to the left, the right, up or down, Mulder wouldn’t have been lying here right now. I raised his hand to my cheek, smoothing the back of it along my jaw and to my lips.

How ironic, on the day when we reveal our feeling to one another, that the fates would decide to steal Mulder from me. It was luck and only luck that the bullet had not claimed him. Perhaps this was a cruel joke, a slap from God for wanting to be happy with the man I love. True, the world had not ended and he was still alive, but how much longer can we go on like this?

I buried my doubts in the pit of my stomach, a good companion for the fear that already lay there, and rested my head against the cushion of the chair I sat in. I watched Mulder from the position until I fell into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

***


God, I'm so tired. Why am I so tired? I feel like I got shit faced drunk, was hit by a truck, and then got shit faced all over again. I can't even open my eyes I'm so god damn tired. I can't fall back asleep, either. This fucking sucks. And what in the HELL is that god damn beeping. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beeeep. When I find the mother fucker who set off the alarm clock I'm gonna jam it up his ass until he's spitting it out. damn straight. God my lips feel dry. I need some chap stick. Wait...why is there a god damn tube hanging out of my mouth? Did I miss something? Fucking better open my eyes so I can get my bearings ….

Shit! Where was I when they installed a fucking thousand-watt light bulb in my place?! I can't see a thing, every things so blurry...wait that's better. Hey! This isn't my place, this is a fucking hospital room! What the hell am I doing here?!? There's Scully, maybe she knows what the fuck is going on, if I could just get her attention.

"Guullee!" Shit she's asleep, she can't hear me.

"GUULLEEE!" There, that did it. She's awake now and....she's leaving! Why is she leaving? Ok, she's back now, with a doctor. That's good, a doctor.

"He's awake now, Dr. Randle, I think he's trying to speak."

"Alright, we'll just unhook the oxygen tube..." The man in the white coat took the annoying piece of plastic out of my mouth and set it aside.

"Fox, I'm Dr. Randle. You're coming out of anesthesia, so things will be a little hazy for awhile. How are you feeling?" The doctor sat on the edge of the bed, medical chart in hand. Scully stood behind him, arms crossed over her chest and a worried glare on her face.

"What, what happened to me?" The doctor looked at Scully, speaking with assurance.

"He appears to have some memory loss due to the trauma of the shooting. It's quite normal."

"I know, I'm a doctor." Scully looked away from him and came closer to me, clasping my hand firmly.

"Mulder, can you remember anything about yesterday?"

Yesterday? I looked quizzically at Scully, trying to clear the fog that had gathered in my memory. What happened yesterday? Obviously something important, otherwise I wouldn't be strapped to a heart monitor with an IV attached to my forearm...Yesterday....I watched the game on Wednesday night with the Lone Gunmen. Thursday I re-hauled the filing cabinets at the office. Friday I-

"I remember everything up to yesterday." Scully stood still for a minute, her face falling into a grimace. She sighed, I don't think she meant for me to hear it, and let go of my hand, letting it fall back to the bed. Without looking at me she turned to walk out of the open door.

"Excuse me, doctor, I need some air."

"Scully, wait!" I sat up quickly, and the monitor began beeping to match my actions.

"Mr. Mulder! Fox! Please, calm down. You must relax, it's crucial that you keep your vitals stable for right now. Lie back down and I'll bring you a mild sedative." The doctor rose to leave, but I grabbed the tail of his white coat. He turned to look at me, his eyebrow raised and a slight flicker of alarm in his eyes.

"I don't want a sedative. I want you to tell me what happened." The doctor sighed and sat the chart down on the far end of my bed, reclaiming his spot at the foot.

"Yesterday, at approximately 7:15PM, you were shot by a man named Dwight Handle. Does that name sound familiar?" I closed my eyes and mouthed the name silently.

"Yeah, it rings a bell. Go on, was Scully there?"

"No, you were with an agent named Larry Shanks; the shooter was aiming for him-"

"Larry? From violent crimes?" The doctor ignored me and continued.

"-but you stepped in, ultimately taking the bullet for him. You're a very lucky man, agent Mulder, very lucky." The doctor stood, taking his chart in his hands and moving toward the door "Now, if you will excuse me, I have another patient to attend to. If you have any questions buzz the nurse. And I'll have her bring you that sedative. You need your rest, Agent Mulder." With that the doctor was gone like a flash of white lightning, to my lazy, tired eyes. The nurse did come a short while later, with a dixie cup containing a large, white pill, like a sallow kidney bean. I grimaced at the size of it.

"This is a mild sedative?" She laughed and handed it to me, then poured some water into the dixie cup from the pitcher on my bedside table.

"Would you rather have an enema?"

"No, I guess not." I grinned and gulped the pill down, almost gagging because my throat was so damn dry. After the pill was down she gave me another drink of water and left. I watched her walk out; she was cute, I'll admit that. About five six, long brown hair, big brown eyes. Not bad looking at all. And those regulation scrubs clung in all the right places. But it just wasn't right. Something was amiss in the Mulder sex-o-meter.

The sedative was working fast, I could feel myself growing drowsier and drowsier until I could hardly keep my eyes open. I was practically asleep when the sharp click of female footwear suddenly seemed to appear in my room. I opened my eyes to see Scully standing in the doorway, looking pensive. I gave her a lop-sided grin and gestured with my hand.

"Hey, come in." She complied, moving hesitantly at first. She sat down in the chair that she had been sleeping in earlier, still not looking directly at me. Rather, she focused on the TV that hung from the ceiling. It was off.

"Somethin' wrong, Kully?" The sedative had slurred my speech, and my tongue felt about three sizes too big for my mouth.

She sighed and looked at me. Her eyes were rimmed red and looked damp, as though she had been crying only a few minutes ago. This puzzled me; I reached for her hand but she didn't offer it.

"Scully-"

"Are you sure you can't remember anything about yesterday?" She bit her lower lip and looked down at the pink tiled floor.

"I vaguely remember the assignment I was on with Larry, but other than that, no. Should I remember something else?" She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, her coppery mane seeming to dance in the exaggerated light of the hospital room. God she was so beautiful when she did that.

"No, Mulder. It's nothing. Listen, I need to go. Skinner doesn't know what's happened yet, I need to get to the office. The doctor said he wanted to observe you for a day or so more, I'll be here later to check on you." She rose from the chair and walked over to the window where her coat lay. She slid it on and muttered a goodbye. I muttered one in reply and slipped back in my drug induced slumber, still confused by Scully's demeanor.

***


By the time I got to my car in the parking garage's lower level I was practically shaking. With sadness, frustration, anger, I don't know what the hell was going on in my head. I tried to distance myself from the situation at hand, like I often did when things got too tough to handle. Unfortunately for me that method of coping wasn't cutting it. All I could see was Mulder's face and all I could hear was the sound of his voice telling me he loved me over the phone. And then the sound of his groggy voice in the hospital room saying he didn't remember a damn thing.

I tried telling myself that this was a temporary thing; that his memory would come flooding back in a mind boggling epiphany, but in my gut I had a horrible feeling that this was a permanent little blip in Mulder's mind. It almost seemed right, that we would breakthrough such an all encompassing barrier only to have it built up again by circumstance.

On the other hand, I didn't have to leave it this way. I know how Mulder feels about me now, and somewhere inside he knows how I feel about him. I could make a move; I could end the charade once and for all.

But, what if this memory loss is the product of Mulder's own will? He can remember Shanks and the shooting, but not me. He can't remember touching me, or kissing me, oh professing his love. What if some subconscious part of him regretted what had happened between us, and this accident was just a convenient way of erasing it all? It's not unheard of; it would be like a rape victim forgetting the attack, or a small child blocking out an incident of abuse. Not that I would compare myself to child abuse or rape.

By the time I pulled out of the hospital parking lot I felt like I had run a ten mile marathon. I was exhausted, mentally. It really was too much to think about.

And it was raining. Normally, I love driving in the rain. I love the feel of the tiny droplets landing on my bared arms, or the gushes of water spilling from the clouds and soaking my hair. I love jogging in the rain; the smell energizes me yet relaxes me. I usually feel serene when it rains, but not today. The rain today was an angry reminder of the tears that dared to spill from my eyes, and the crash of lightning was like the bolt of rage that threatened to ripple through me at any moment. I was an ignited ball of emotion, and was in no mood to be trifled with.

So, of course I did the most ingenious thing I could have possibly done in my situation; turned on the radio. I tuned into the local soft rock station, my favorite one to listen to. There was a commercial playing about weight loss miracle pill or something. I took a deep breath as I began to grasp for control of my feelings, tapping on my steering wheel. I felt like I could almost let go, like I could almost breath without wanting to breakdown to a quivering mass of sorrow in the fetal position on the floor. That was all shattered when the familiar chords of Sting's Every breath you take began to play.

Every breath you take Every move you make Every bond you break Every step you take

"No..."

I'll be watching you

immediately, almost involuntarily, I began to sob violently, my entire body shaking with the momentum of my cries. Yet I couldn't bring myself to change the station or turn the radio off. I guess I'm a sucker for punishment.

Every single day Every word you say Every game you play Every night you stay

I'll be watching you

Ever since I began harboring unprofessional feelings about Mulder, this song always reminded me of him. Partially because of my own emotional and physical attraction, but also because we were constantly watching each other's backs. We relied on eacher, er, we protected each other, and occasionally we saved each other's lives, but most of all, we trusted each other. And from that trust love was born, at least that's how it happened for me. I can't speak for Mulder.

Oh can't you see You belong to me How my poor heart aches with every step you take

Every move you make Every vow you break Every smile you fake Every claim you stake

And then, of course, there were the times when he fucked up or I fucked up and hurt each others' egos. That happened quite a bit, actually. I almost smiled as I thought of all the times I wanted to kill Mulder, and all the times I almost did.

I'll be watching you

Since you've gone I've been lost without a trace I dream at night I can only see your face I look around but it's you I can't replace I feel so cold and I long for your embrace I keep crying baby, baby please

Every move you make Every vow you break Every smile you fake Every claim you stake

I'll be watching you

By now my tears will flowing freely, and I was still undecided about how to handle the situation at hand. The way I see it, I have three options- come on to Mulder, and tell him what happened and refresh his memory for him. Ideally, I would love to do this one, but I just don't have the nads.

Secondly, I could just wait and see if his memory returns, and if it does, pick up right where we left off. That option could go either way. The thing is, the more I stew over having a relationship with Mulder, the more I think about it, the less receptive I'll be when the time comes to decide. Thinking about it will bring fear to me, and fear will bring doubt, which leads me to the third and final option; pretend like it never happened.

This would be the most natural response, the easy way out where I can walk away with my hands clean and my heart in one piece. If it does turn out the Mulder's memory loss is a result of subconscious doubt, I really don't think I could handle that.

With a sigh threatening to escape from my lips, I reached into my glove box for a tissue and dabbed my eyes. I knew what choice I was going to make, but that didn't make it any easier. My shoulder's sagged with burden and I drove onward, taking the sullied road home.

About forty-five minutes and half a box of Kleenex later I had found my way back to the J. Edgar Hoover building. I went straight to Skinner's office. Holly wasn't there. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was lunch time, and was vaguely aware of a twinge of hunger that tugged inside of me. I ignored it and knocked on Skinner's door.

"Come in!" He sounded irritated, as usual. I took a breath and entered, finding the A.D. sitting at his desk with his arms crossed firmly over his chest, looking extremely pissed off.

"Sir-"

"Agent Scully, do you realize I have been trying to reach you and agent Mulder all morning? Where in the hell have you been?"

"I'm sorry to inconvenience you, sir, but I have some bad news. Mulder has been shot; the wound is seriously but he's making a good recovery, and his doctor expects the best for him. It happened last night, I'm surprised you haven't heard yet." Immediately a look of regret came over Skinners face, and he relaxed slightly. He sighed and rubbed his forehead, looking up at me from beneath his fingers.

"I'm sorry, Agent Scully. I didn't realize. Where is Mulder now?"

"A hospital in Fredricksburg. He should be released sometime in the next couple of days. You said you were trying to reach us, did you need something?"

"Yes, I have a key witness to a murder who is in danger. I was going to ask either you or Agent Mulder to escort her to a safe haven in Iowa until the trial."

This is exactly what I needed, to get away from Mulder for a couple of days. To distance myself from the pain, then maybe it would *finally* go away. I was more than happy to comply with Skinner's drudgework. He gave me the plane tickets and the address of where the witness was being held. I had just enough time to go home and pack. Skinner informed me I'd be staying with her until the trial, which was slated to occur in two weeks. It was perfect.

I left the office and sped home, a little too eager to get away. Then it hit me; there was no one to care for Mulder. Except for the Gunmen. I grabbed my cell phone from my dashboard and called the guys.

"Hello?"

"Frohike, this is Scully."

"Scully! Hi, hi, how are you?

"Not good, I need you to do me a favor."

"I'll be over in five minutes, and I'll be sure to bring a love glove." I sighed, I should have known better than to ask Frohike. I should have asked to speak to Byers.

"This is serious, Frohike. Mulder's been shot."

"Oh my God, is he all right?"

"Yes, he's going to be fine. Look, I'm going out of town for a couple of days and I need you guys to look after him, if that's possible."

"Yeah, of course we'll do it. No problem. When do we start?"

"His doctor hasn't specified when he will be released yet, I'll have Mulder let you know. I have to go now, Frohike. Thanks." I clicked off my cell phone, not waiting for him to respond. I had to hurry home and pack, in order to make the promise visit to Mulder, something I was definitely not looking foreword to.

***


Nothing says loving like something from the kitchen of a hospital. I can handle being injured, I can handle being bed ridden. I can handle having a tube jammed up my dick so that I can piss in a littlastiastic bag. I can even handle zero privacy. One thing I cannot handle is hospital food.

My first solid meal consisted of a patty of mystery meat that tasted like boot leather, instant mashed potatoes that stuck to between my teeth and to the roof of my mouth like wall paper paste, congealed corn, and a little cookie not so big as a half dollar and more stale than Dennis Miller's comedy routine. One blessing though, I had iced tea to wash it all down. At least the tea was good.

I was in the middle of trying to swallow some potatoes when there was a knock at my door. The doctors and nurses didn't knock, so I immediately perked up at the prospect of a visitor.

"Come in!" It was Scully, looking unusually pensive. I was going to ask her what was wrong but thought better of it.

"Hey, Scully," I gestured to the mauve trey that held my excuse for a meal. "Hungry?" She cringed and shook her head, taking a seat at the far end of the room. I knew she had something to tell me, I could tell by the way she carried herself that there was a burden she didn't quite know how to unload. I decided just to keep my mouth shut and wait for her to talk to me rather than confronting her, lest she become skittish and back off completely. If there's one thing I know, it's Dana Katherine Scully.

So there we sat, me pretending to enjoy my biohazard excuse for a meal, and Scully tapping her foot with maddening speed. Finally, the tapping ceased, and I heard her take a deep breath. Ah, the moment of Truth...

"Mulder, listen, I'm going to be out of town for several weeks. I've arranged for the Gunmen to take care of you, but if there's anything you need, let me know." She rose as if she were about to leave, but I wasn't about to let her off that easy; not after the bombshell she just dropped on me.

"Scully, wait! Aren't you even going to tell me where you're going?" She stopped and small sheepishly, not quite meeting my eyes.

"Skinner has a witness that needs protection. I'm going to Iowa with her until the trial."

Iowa? What the fuck?

"Oh. Well, I hope everything works out." I didn't even try to mask the disappointment in my voice. She pretended not to notice.

"I've really got to be going Mulder, my flight leaves soon. Call me if you need anything." Again she made a break for the door, but I wasn't quite done with her yet.

"Can't I call you just to talk? To shoot the proverbial shit so to speak? Or is that too close to defying protocol?" She looked taken aback, I had really stunned her. She blinked once, seeming to struggle for words, and when they came she still fumbled.

"Mulder, what I meant was... I don't think....I was just-"

"Forget it, Scully, go on. You wouldn't want to miss your complementary bag of honey roasted peanuts." I waved my hand at her, a signal of dismissal, something that would have infuriated Scully. Instead, she took a shallow breath, looked at me with a red face and a furrowed brow, and left. I sighed and pushed the food away. I suddenly wasn't feeling very hungry.

***


Oh. My. God. What in the FUCK just happened? I can't even fucking see straight, I'm so upset. Why is everything in the hospital white? Why can't they just throw in a couple of primary colors once in a while so that I can see where hell I'm going?!?

Everything was a blur as I careened down the stark halls; I think I may have knocked a couple of people over, it doesn't really matter. The only thing that matters right now is getting out of the hospital, to the airport, and away, far far away, from Mulder.

I could feel the bile rising in the back of my throat as I pushed my way into the packed elevator that led to the parking garage. Finally it came to a halt and I was liberated from my prison, met by crisp wintry air that seeto rto refresh me, a little. I walked briskly to my car, glancing at my watch to see that I only had an hour to get to the airport. I breathed in the hum of my car's engine as though it were the purr of a mother cat and sped away from the hospital, and this time I didn't turn on the radio.

The flight to Iowa, like the state, was rather bland and uneventful. I slept most of the way, and woke up looking for Mulder as the plane made a shaky landing. I hated landings and take offs, always had. It seems like Mulder had always been there to assure me; I guess you never notice those things until they're missing.

I retrieved the girl; a seven-year-old named Amanda, from the local PD and was taken via taxi to a local, yet remote, Traveler's Inn. Amanda didn't speak the entire way there. She looked like she had been through the wringer- her clothes were filthy and her hair hadn't been washed in days. I decided that the first thing I would do once we got to the hotel, would be to clean the child up.

But in the meantime, Amanda's silence gave me a chance to look over the case file that I had been provided. I was right, the girl had been through the wringer, and then some.

She was the only eyewitness in the murder of her mother. Her father was the main suspect, although there was no solid evidence to convict him, only the girl's testimony. Her mother had been found beaten to death in her bed, her daughter sleeping nex her her. The father was passed out in his car in the garage, but denied involvement in the murder. It was up to me to keep Amanda safe until the trial, until the rat bastard who did this to her was put away.

Aside from my strong feelings in regards to children and their overall welfare, I had an especially hard time not becoming attached to this one. She looked almost identical to Melissa, my sister, when she was a child. It was eerie, really.

I kept catching myself glancing at her from the corner of my eye as we drove, as she stared into space. The profile, bone structure, hair color, everything; it might as well have been Melissa. I sighed and closed the case file, laying it gingerly in my lap. Playing mom to this girl for two weeks was only going to make my being barren harder than it already was.

When we reached the Inn, Amanda had to be coaxed from the car and into our room. I carried both her things and minhen hen drew a bath for her. While she bathed I ordered some food from the adjoining cafeteria, which arrived before she got out. We ate in silence, and then I helped her get ready for bed. As I was tucking her in she pulled a ragged golden book out from underneath her pillow and handed it to me.

"You have to read this to me." She said it simply and matter-of-factly, as though it was a sacred ritual that could not be neglected. I complied happily and took the book, eager to make a connection with the girl. I smiled as I read the title, it was the written version of Disney's The Little Mermaid', yet another red head.

"Did you like the movie?" I asked as I opened the fragile cover. It didn't take a forensics expert to know the book was well past it's prime.

"Uh-huh. It was my favorite."

I read the story to her, and she had me read it to her twice more before her eyes finally started to flutter closed. I read until I sensed a change in her breathing. I rose slowly from the bed, careful not to stir her, and went to the bathroom to wash my face and change clothes. When that was done I switched off the dim lamp that sat between the two beds and went to sleep.

I had been asleep for two, maybe three hours when I was startled awake by a series of whimpers coming from the bed next to mine. I sat up and turned the light on; Amanda was still asleep, but curled tightly into a ball and crying. I immediately got out of bed and went to her, turning her over on her back, my hands placed firmly on her shoulders.

"Amanda, Amanda wake up. You're having a nightmare." I kept my tone calm to avoid upsetting her any further. Her breathing began to slow from a harsh pant to strained, but even, intake of air. Her eyes opened widely and she sat up so fast that we almost bumped heads. The child buried her face in my chest and wrapped her arms tightly around my waist. She was shaking. I pulled the blanket over us and clutched her to me, rocking her as if she were a baby.

"It's alright, Amanda, everything's alright. I'm here with you, you're awake now."

"I want my mommy."

My heart stopped in my chest. How do you tell a child that their mommy won't be there for them anymore? I decided that it was finally time for Amanda to talk about what happened. It was written in the file that she refused to speak to the counselor, and had only given a brief statement to the police. She obviously hadn't had any help in coping with this tragedy. I pulled her away from me and took some tissues off the bedside table, dabbing the tears away carefully.

"I want my mommy!" She was more insistent now, her hands balled into angry fists at her side.

"Amanda, do you remember what happened to your mommy?" Her face fell and she went limp, and for a moment I thought she would faint.

"Amanda?"

"Yes. I remember."

"Can you talk to me about it?"

"I don't want to."

"I know, honey, I know, but sometimes we feel better when we talk about things that are hard for us. Like when you get a booboo, if you tell someone about it they can make it better." She looked into my eyes, and I almost fell apart. I could see that she was full of pain, pain I would have given anything to alleviate.

"Please, Amanda. Talk to me. You can trust me." If there was one thing I learned in my years with Mulder, trust was the key, the corner stone in a relationship.

"Daddy hurt her."

"How? How did your daddy hurt her?"
"He hit her, and threw a lamp at her." I could tell she wanted to say more, that I had uncapped a fountain that was ready to overflow.

"And then, and then she started screaming and crying, and he told her to be quiet, and threw her on the floor. Then he left for a while and mommy told me to hide in the closet, but I still watched through the cracks. Daddy came back with a baseball bat and was hitting her again, until she didn't cry anymore and went to sleep on the bed. Daddy left, and I stayed in the closet for a while, but I started tt tit tired so I came out and got into bed next to mommy. Where is she, Dana? When can I see my mommy again?"

I sighed and fingered the small cross that hang from the gold chain around my neck, preparing to answer her question the only way I knew how.

"Amanda, did your mommy ever talk to you about God?"

Yeah, we went to church on the weekends, but it was kind of boring."

"Do you know where God lives?"

"Heaven."

"That's right." I chewed on my lip, dreading the words wou would come out of my mouth. "Amanda, your mommy died. And when someone dies, they leave earth and go to live with God."

"For how long?"

"Forever, honey. You stay there forever."

"Can I go see her, please?"

"No honey, you're alive. People who are alive can't go toven,ven, but they can talk to the people they love and to God as much as they want. Your mommy loves you Amanda, and even though you can't see her, she's always going to watch over you."

"Like an angel?"

"Yes, like an angel. Just like an angel."

"And I can talk to her whenever I want?"

"Yes."

"Right now?"

"Sure. Do you want me to help you?"

"Ok." I had Amanda lie down in her bed and snuggle under the covers. I lay on top of the covers next to her, my arm her her shoulder.

"How do you want to start?"

"I want to tell her about you. I liou, ou, you're nice." I ed aed and felt myself blush slightly. Kids were so blunt and honest with their feelings, completely uninhibited by embarrassment.

"Well, I like you too, Amanda. Very much. What else do you want to say to her?"

"That I love her, and I miss her."

"She knows, honey." Amanda sighed and snuggled closer to me.

"Will you sleep with me tonight? Please?"

"Of course, Amanda. Anything you want." I pulled the blanket over myself and closed my eyes. Amanda began snoring lightly beside me, and I smiled. To feel needed is to feel complete.

***


"Langly! LANGLY!" I sat straight up on the couch, wincing in pain as I yelled for the nerdy blonde with selective hearing. What in the fuck was he doing?

"LANG-"

"God damn it, Mulder, I'm coming! Jesus, can't a guy even drain the lizard without being harped on for five minutes?"

it'sit's such an imposition, why don't you LEAVE! I can take care of myself!"

"Don't be stupid Mulder, you're a fucking invalid. Now what in the hell do you want?"

"Soup."

"Soup? SOUP?! You're being a psycho bitch because you want some fucking soup?"

"Like I said, if it's too much for you to handle, you can always-"

"SHUT UP, DUDE! I will make you some God damn soup, OK?" Langly stomped off into my kitchen and began banging pots and pans around, slamming cabinet doors, and ranting about the game of Dungeons and Dragons he was missing. Of course he hadn't started out this cranky; he and the other guys were more than happy to help me in my time of need. I was the one with the problem, and I knew it. I was being pissy and unreasonable, all because of Scully. Truth is I've become rather dependent on her to care for me when I'm in a situation like this. I was so mad, so pissed that she'd just left me here, I hadn't even tried to call her. I know, that's childish and petty, but I can't help it. I'm just stubborn like that.

"Here, here is the damn soup. Take it." Langly came storming back out of the kitchen, a blue plastic bowel in hand. I thanked him and took it, taking a big spoonful of the warm liquid.

"Langly?" He stopped in mid-stride and balled his fists.

"What?"

"This is chicken noodle."

"Yeah?"

"I wanted cream of celery."

"AHHRRGHH!!! Is it time for your medication, yet?"
I decided to give Langly a break and sent him home, explaining that I felt like taking a nap. He agreed, a little too quickly, and promised to send one of the other guys over a little later. When he was gone and I was settled comfortably on the couch, I found myself drifting into a baby soft, gossamer sleep.

And then I was at the office. The room and everything about it was a funny yellow color, like coffee. I was sitting in my desk and Scully was there, and we were working in silence. It was almost like I was watching the whole scene from afar; I was there, but I was a spectator.

And then Scully and I were speaking, although I couldn't understand what we were saying, and I was walking over to her, behind her, touching her back. No, not just touching, rubbing it. I suddenly felt very nervous, like the situation at hand was precious and fragile and would all too soon be over, and I'd better enjoy it while it lasted. I could sense that Scully was nervous, too; that there was an unspoken tension between us. A tension that was resolved when I suddenly began fondling her breasts. Thers a s a moment of anguish, of fear and uncertainty, and then we were on each other like white on rice, making out on top of my desk. It was so real, I could feel her body against mine, and the effect it was having on me. I devoured her mouth, making silent notations of every single groove in every single tooth, memorizing the taste of that warm portal. Our tongues danced like old lovers and I relished in the feel of her silky hair gliding through my fingers.

I shot up from the couch, panting like a dog, dripping with sweat, and fully aroused. The dream, it was so vivid, so real, it couldn't have been a dream! Suddenly, in this moment of lucidity, it was all clear. It wasn't a dream at all. I had touched Scully; I had tasted her mouth and felt her body with my curious hands and she had done the same to me. I told her I loved her. And, for some reason, that important moment in time had been forgotten when I was shot. That was why Scully had been so distant and that is why I had the nagging feeling that something was dreadfully amiss. But why hadn'ullyully reminded me of our little breakthrough? Was she afraid? Did she think I was pulling the amnesia thing on purpose? Oh, this won't do. This won't do at all.

***


Amanda and I stayed in that hotel room for the time remaining until the trial. When the time came for her testimony, I was there in the court room with her. Her account of the night of her mother's death was so chillingly accurate in correspondence with the forensic evidence, that the jury only convened for four hours before coming up with a guilty verdict. Amanda's father was sentenced to life without parole, and Amanda herself was issued into the custody of her aunt on her mother's side. After the trial I met with Amanda one last time, as her aunt was loading her niece’s things into the back of her van.

"Dana!" Amanda ran to me, gripping me with a tight hug. I stroked her red head and laughed. Her aunt came over and shook my hand.

"Thank you so much for taking such good care of Amanda, Ms. Scully. She can't seem to stop talking about you! My name's Denise."

"I'm glad I could help, Denise, she's a wonderful girl." As Amanda let go of my I stooped to look at her. "I have something for you,"

I reached behind my neck and pulled at the clasp of my cross necklace. I took it off and laid it in the palm of her hand.

"Take good care of this, and know that it will always be there if you need it. And so will I." I kissed the girl lightly on her forehead and stood back up, noting that Denise had tears that threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes. Wordlessly we hugged, and after exchanging phone numbers and addresses we parted ways. Amanda for her new home, and I to my old one, where things had been left slightly askew.

When I got back to good ol' Georgetown I didn't make any immediate attempts to contact Mulder. We hadn't talked to each other since our fall out in the hospital, and I was more than a little hesitant to breach the gap just yet. Instead, I went straight to my apartment to take a long, hot, bubble bath.

It felt good, soaking in the floral suds, a comforting familiarity I suppose. I stayed in the tub until my fingers and toes were wrinkled and my body was smooth from the aloe in my soap. I toweled myself dry and put on a pair of cotton, pale yellow pajama's and slid between the sheets of my bed. It felt good to be home.

***


Two weeks had passed since my dream of clarity, and I'd had it almost every night since then. It haunted me to the point of insanity. When I was able to walk I paced the floors for hours, contemplating how, HOW Scully could have kept me in the dark. When a fortnight had passed I was at the end of my rope, and began driving to Scully's house in the middle of the night, just to breathe her air. I occasionally slept in her bed, but never ate while I was there, for fear of leaving any evidence that would betray me.

And this night was no different. I had the dream, and I was pacing like a caged animal. I needed to be with her, I needed to touch her like that again. She was like a drug, my drug. I wanted more.

I threw on a pair of black jeans and a gray t-shirt and made the commute to her place, using my key to get it. It was pitch black, but I didn't turn on any lights. Instead, I made my way to her couch. I knew the path by heart now, or at least I thought I did. I tripped like a clod over something in the middle of the floor and fell on my ass with a loud thud. I cried out in pain and cursed at the object, groping in the dark for something to lift myself off the ground. To my utter shock the lights were suddenly flipped on, and there stood Scully, her gun aimed directly at me.

"Mulder?" She set her gun down and came running to help me, a look of doctorly concern on her face.

"Are you hurt? Can you stand? Here let me help you," She pulled my to my feet, and all I could do was stare dumbly at her.

"Speak to me, Mulder. What are you doing here?"

Uh-oh.

"I..."

"I didn't tell anyone I was back, how did you know?"

Looked like it was time to face the music...

"I've been coming here. At night." Scully wrinkled her nose in bemusement.

"Why?"

"I'll be glad to answer your question, Scully, but first there's something I need to ask you" A look of alarm flashed across her face. Anyone else probably wouldn't have caught it, but to my trained eye it was apparent. I must be on the right track, at least.

"What happened that day, Scully? Between us?" She bit her lip and took a baby step back.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She looked green, like she was going to hurl at any moment. She was also lying. She knew exactly what I was talking about.

"You're lying, Scully! You're lying! How could you do that to me?" I turned away from her and put a hand on the back of her couch, gripping it for balance. I could hear her whimpering behind me and I instantly regretted my harshness. Without turning around, I still spoke to her, calmly."

"I know what happened Scully, I remember everything. You can't deny it. Why would you want to?"

"Because I'm afraid!" She was sobbing now, her face buried in her hands. Before I knew what I was doing I was there, holding her and clutching her to my chest.

"I'm sorry, Mulder! Please forgive me." Her plea was nothing more than a whisper, but I heard her loud and clear. I pulled her away from me and cupped her cheeks with my hands, pressing my forehead against her's

"I love you, Scully. Don't doubt that, ever." I nuzzled her lightly with my nose and planted a soft kiss on her temple. I let my lips take their own course from their, gliding across her brow and down the bridge of her nose, each eyelid, finally resting on the pucker of her mouth. She sucked my lower lip into her mouth and I moaned, pressing her body roughly against mine. Our tongues met and I pressed her flush against the wall in a deep kiss, moving my hands beneath her thighs and lifting so that her short, sculpted legs were wrapped around my waist. I involuntarily bucked my hips against her warmth, and she released my mouth in a low moan, tossing her head to the side at the feel of my arousal. I took this opportunity to feed upon the tender flesh of her neck, showering it with kisses and leaving a mark here and there, claiming my territory. She writhed against me, moaning my name so that it sounded like sweet music. I glided my mouth along her clavicle, and then moved up and once again claimed her lips; her swollen, rosebud lips.

Without warning she dropped her legs, and the sudden shift in balance forced me to press even harder against her, crushing her into the wall. She pushed me off of her and sidestepped me, and for a moment my heart quickened at the thought of her leaving. Instead, she grabbed me by the hem of my t-shirt and led me into her bedroom. She gave me a wicked grin and bunched the t-shirt in her hand.

"Mulder, how attached to this shirt are you?"

I looked at her quizzically. I knew she was up to something, but I couldn't read her.

"I've got about three others just like it."

"Good, you won't miss this one." She grabbed the collar of the shirt and literally ripped it of my body, leaving me standing there bare chested and my mouth hanging open. God, I love this woman. Still grinning, she stepped closer to me and began kissing my chest, running her pink little tongue over me, bathing me like a cat. I almost screamed when she bit my left nipple but somehow managed to not to lose it, although I will admit I did jump, just a little. Her hands were running up and down my back, exploring the muscles and the protrusions of bone. Scully scraped her nails lightly on my shoulder blades, sending another round of chills through me. I couldn't stand still any longer; it was my turn to explore.

I pushed her hands away and began unbuttoning her shirt, revealing slowly the naked valley between her breasts. Her skin was pink and hot to the touch, and I knew then that she wanted this just as badly, if not worse, than I did. I pushed the shirt off of her and she stood half naked before me. I think she expected me to go straight for those beautiful breasts, but I too had a trick up my sleeve, or lack there of. I dropped to one knee and hooked my thumbs in the waistband of her pants and underwear, and pulled them off in one swift motion. She gasped in surprise as I kissed the softness of her stomach, jamming my tongue into her belly button.

"God damn, Mulder!" Usually when she says that to me it's preceded with anger, but I don't think that is the case now. I smiled against her skin and moved up, standing once more into her embrace. She kissed my mouth again as she freed me of my jeans and boxers, leaving us both naked.

In one swift motion I swept Scully into my arms and dropped her in the center of the bed, marveling at the soft bounce of her hair and breasts on the impact. She smiled seductively and leaned back against her pale pink pillows and motioned me to join her with her finger.

"Don't be shy, Mulder. I won't bite, unless you want me to." I smirked and stepped a little closer.

"But Scully, you already bit me!" I gestured to the reddened circle of teeth marks around my nipple.

"Oops, sorry about that."

"No you're not."

"You're absolutely right; I feel no remorse what-so-ever. Now get your naked ass over here and make love to me before I explode!"

"Yes, ma'am!" I took a tiny running start and leaped onto the bed, sending her for another bounce into the air. The bed made a horrible groaning sound beneath my weight and quite suddenly the legs gave and the box-spring and mattress were on the floor.

"Oh, shit! ly Ily I-"

"Forget about it." She smiled and straddled me, taking my hands from my sides and placing them on her breasts. My pulse became dangerously thready as I rolled the orbs gently in my hands, my eyes half shut. Scully cooed her appreciation and closed her eyes lightly, tilting her head to the side.

This hands-on exploration was great and all, but like many sub-species of insects, I prefer to use my mouth to explore. I took her breast into my mouth and massaged it with my tongue. Scully yelped and arched her back, giving me easier access. I growled as her beautiful thigh made contact with my throbbing sex. She gave a throaty laugh and wiggled her hips, sending me into a precursor orgasmic spasm. I could stand this no longer.

With carnal aggression I grabbed her by the waist and flipped her onto her back. She instinctively wrapped her legs around my back and pulled me closer to her heat. I could feel it radiating off her, teasingly warm and inviting. I could almost smell it. Some how, in this storm of lust, I found her eyes. I looked into them, communicating wordlessly as I had so many times before, asking for final permission. With her eyes she complied, and I slid into her. We both tensed at the sudden contact as I sank deeper into her, until she had completely consumed my length. We stayed frozen like that for a minute.

"God, Mulder-"

"I know, Scully, I know." I felt giddy, high even. Scully rotated her hips beneath me and licked my ear.

"I'm ready." I pulled out of her, immediately missing the lava hot tightness. I thrust back in, keeping my rhythm slow and continuous. Scully had arched off the bed and pressed the whole of her against me, and in a surreal way completed a puzzle that had been missing pieces for what seemed like a lifetime.

"Mmm, faster. Harder." She murmured against me. I quickened my pace and began thrusting into her roughly, sounding a chorus of squeaks from the broken bed. Scully groaned my name and I could feel her inner walls tightening around me. She was close, very close. I increased my speed and force a little more.

"Oh, god!"

"Scully, you feel so good." I was close too, and was afraid I would finish first. That wouldn't do at all. I slid a hand between us and found her clit. She screamed when I began to rub her in a circular motion.

"GOD! Oh, god, yes Mulder. Just like that!" She bucked wildly against me, sending a jolt of pleasure through my body, the first wave of my orgasm. I grit my teeth and pounded against her.

"Sculleee!"

"Mulder!"

We came together, echoing each other's cries. I spilled into, fi, filling her with my passion, what I had wanted to give her for so long. I was raw, completely at her mercy. And she was at mine. Finally, equals.

***


Mulder collapsed on top on me, showering my with his sweat. My chest heaved against him, my breath coming in ragged gasps as my heart began to slow. I tangled my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and scratched lightly, eliciting a muttered groan of my name. We lay like that for almost an hour, floating back and forth between sleep and wake, just holding each other. Eventually Mulder slid out of me and landed on his back beside me, stretched out like a sated cat. He grinned sleepily and pulled my into his chest. I reached down and covered us with my quilt and nestled into the crook of his neck, where I seemed to fit perfectly.

"Sorry about your bed." His voice was gruff and throaty. It sent chills through me, being that close to him.

"Don't worry about it. I'll get it fixed tomorrow." He sighed happily and nuzzled against my hair.

"God, Scully. That was amazing."

"Eh, it was ok." Mulder jerked away from me, his eyes wide with shock.

"Wha- Scully!" I grinned wickedly and kissed him, licking his lips lightly. I pulled him back down and cuddled against him and whispered,

"I got you, Mulder. Big time." He let out a nervous choke of laughter and relaxed.

"Jesus, Scully! Don't do that!"

"Sorry, I couldn't resist."

"Yeah, well you'll pay for it. Later." He yawned and tightened his grip on my. I listened as his breathing began to slow and deepen. I knew the exact moment he fell asleep. I loved seeing him like this; so peaceful, his demons gone. If I had any remaining doubts they were washed away. I loved Mulder. He loved me. We would be together, in all aspects of "together". Finally.

The End!!!!

(It's finished, FINALLY!!!)