Note: This story contains a fair amount of P/T, and hints at MSR (it's just as far as you can go without having Mulder and Scully actually *be* in a relationship) Noromos and everyone else: you've been warned!

Authors' Notes:
-- Jane: Well, we started this in February and finished it in October :) It's a very long RR, but it was so much fun to write! We're going to do a sequel, aren't we, Caitlin? *grins* I’d like to thank Lauren and Sarah, but most of all I want to thank my 'partner in crime,' Caitlin Rose. Thank you so much, Caity! :::hugs:::

-- Caitlin: For M & S.  You are two of the funniest, kindest, most beautiful - inside and out - women I could ever ope to meet and emulate.  Your friendship is invaluable, and as M says, “work like you don’t need the money, love like you have never been hurt, dance like no one is watching.”  To the One in whom I live and move and have my being: without you I am nothing.  As always, thanks to my beta-readers, Kashy and BrIgEtTe.  The largest applause, though, needs to go to my co-author, Jane; she is the best person you could ever hope to spend seven and a half months (!) writing a story with.  It’s been a blast and I hope this is only the beginning!

Feedback is good. Feedback is *definetely* good. All authors live for feedback! E-mail us at JaneG100@rocketmail.com (Jane) and dana_lynn_tighe@hotmail.com (Caitlin)

Disclaimers: Paramount owns the properties and characters of Star Trek: Voyager; Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and FOX own the properties and characters of The X Files. We are merely borrowing the characters and plots for our own personal usage. In other words: please don't sue!! :) I (Jane Griffen) own the properties of Heather Whitney. We both own the characters of the countless junior officers who appear in this round robin, and the story. Moby Dick isn't ours, either. “Genie in a Bottle” belongs to Christina Aguilera, “Friends” belongs to the Rembrants, and Celine Dion owns her song (the title escapes my memory right now *sheepish*).

Just to let you know: this part contains a lot of spoilers for the X-Files episode Triangle (the one where Mulder goes back in time to the Queen Anne) Now, it’s party time!!! Not yet, but soon. I promise.

ARCHIVIST'S NOTES: Okay, this story is really annoying me because none of the paragraphs are really indented and the TAB-ing won't work. It's way too long for me to go back and re-format, but I'll try to get around to it eventually! Until then, happy reading!
***
Previously, on Changing Tides...

 Suddenly Scully felt cool and tired, whereas before she had felt extremely nauseous. “Thanks,” she said, feeling too tired to sit up. She fell back down and closed her eyes. She felt Mulder shift his weight on the bed and gripped his hand. “Don’t leave,” she requested, her voice barely above a whisper.
 The last thing she remembered before falling into a deep sleep was Mulder’s lips brushing against her forehead and the murmured reply, “I promise.”

And now the conclusion...
*****

 Janeway crossed her legs as she sat back down after pacing up and down the entire length of the conference room. “So there’s no way we could possibly send them back on our own?’
 Tuvok and Kim shook their heads.
 *Damn.* “What are our other options?”
 “We wait for Q to show up and ask for his mercy,” Chakotay said, obviously not pleased with the thought of associating with the omnipotent entity again.
 Janeway frowned. “All right. We wait. Now, in the mean time, how is Agent Scully, Doctor?”
 The EMH nodded. “She’ll be fine -- for the next week the numbness of her legs will wear off until there are no signs of her paralysis left. I recommend that she go swimming or practice walking just around her quarters as her health improves. As for her other medical conditions . . .” His voice trailed off.
 “Other medical conditions?” Seven echoed.
 “Scully has a case of terminal cancer that went into remission almost two years ago.” Whitney let her voice trail off, blushing slightly as she gazed at her hands.
 “Also what?” Chakotay asked.
 “Never mind,” mumbled Whitney, not wanting to bring up the subject.
 Paris shot her an understanding look from across the table.
 The Doctor obviously knew what she was talking about. “I wish I could, Lieutenant Whitney, but I can’t. It would be going against the Prime Directive. As for her cancer, I’ve studied it thoroughly and looked at the microchip in the back of her neck. She’ll be in remission for the rest of her life.”
 Tuvok nodded. “Are there any other matters we should address?”
 “I think it wouldn’t be a good idea to let Mulder or Scully learn too much about Voyager or her systems, but I think showing them the engineering or piloting systems wouldn’t hurt. And I know Scully would love to get her hands on anything in the Science Lab.” Paris suggested.
 Heather grinned at the mention of the Lab - her baby.
 “The Delta Flyer’s repairs won’t take but a day or so,” B’Elanna said. “Many of it’s main systems are severely damaged, but nothing an engineering team can’t fix.”
 “Are we still going to the space station?” Kim asked.
 “Ensigns Carmen and Berring-” Beth Carmen was a pilot and Jake Berring was a security officer. “are taking our guests back as we speak. They should return within the next hour or so. To answer the question, yes.” the captain answered. “Dismissed.”
 As everyone got up, Heather spoke up in a small voice after silently conferring with Paris, Torres, and Kim. “Actually . . .” Her timid tone got everyone’s attention, and the rest of the senior staff froze.
 “Yes?” queried Janeway.
 “Can we have a party?”

***

 Janeway blinked. “A party?”
 Heather nodded vigorously.  “To celebrate that the away teams made it back, and if Q comes and suddenly returns Mulder and Scully to their time, we’ll have no way of saying goodbye, so this could be the ‘official goodbye.’” Janeway looked at Whitney.  “You’re serious.”
 Heather smiled.  “When am I not, Captain?”
 Janeway’s stern expression melted and she smiled.  Sighing, she threw up her hands.  “Fine.  Done.  You can have your party.”
 Heather beamed.  “Permission to go discuss the party with Neelix, Captain?”
 “Permission granted, lieutenant, but don’t let this interfere with your work.”
 “It won’t!  Thank you!”
 Heather turned on her heel, and a moment later disappeared through the
turbolift doors.

***

 Scully opened her eyes sleepily.  It took her a moment to realize where she was: Voyager’s sickbay.  The lights were dimmed, and the sickbay was silent.  Scully tried to sit up before remembering her paralysis.  She sighed and
compromised with pushing herself up on her elbows to look around.  The doctor was either in his sickbay or deactivated, and Mulder was gone.  Scully let herself fall back against the bio bed, and then regretted the act when a wave of nausea swept over her.  She rolled over on her side and clutched the thin sheet to her chest, willing the nausea away.
 Sickbay’s doors swept open, and Mulder entered, a tray in his hands.  As soon as he saw her face he immediately was at her side with a hypospray.  The coolness spread across her neck as he injected it, and the nausea was gone.
 “I think I laid down too fast,” she mumbled, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand to try and rid herself of the lingering taste of the vomit in her mouth.  She grimaced, and Mulder lifted a cup of something to her mouth.
 “Drink.”
 She obeyed him, and an almost sickly sweet liquid filled her mouth.  What
is it?” she gasped, coming up for air.  Mulder set the cup down on the tray which he had balanced on the chair, and wiped away a dribble of the juice which had trickled down Scully’s chin with his finger.
 “Something from Neelix’s kitchen,” Mulder replied.  “I went to get something to eat in the mess hall, thinking you’d be asleep for a while longer.
 She banished any guilt in his voice with the absent wave of a hand.  “It doesn’t matter.”
 “You hungry?” he asked her.
 Scully’s stomach growled in response and Mulder smiled at her.  Scully noticed for the first time how his eyes crinkled at the corner when he smiled at her. . . .
 Mulder made his way over to the replicator, and to Scully’s surprise, instead of replicating some liquid bases food substance, he replicated several large pillows.  Scully peered up at him quizzically.  He slide one arm behind her back, and pushed her forward, helping her to sit up.  He wedged the pillows behind her back, and helped her sit back against them.
 “There.  Now you can eat.”
 Once again, though, Mulder surprised her.  Instead of taking a seat on the
chair next to her bio bed, he lifted the tray from it’s precarious position on the chair and stood again.  Gently, he pushed her numb legs to one side of the bed, and then he sat down on her bio bed.
 “Mulder. . . “ she murmured uncertainly.
 He grinned at her.  “Hold on Scully.”  Balancing the tray on his knees, he
lifted a bowl.  He scooped the spoon into the warm broth of the clam chowder and raised it to Scully’s lips.  She opened her mouth obediently while he fed her the soup.
 “How did you know clam chowder was my favorite?” she asked him after he’d fed her about half of the bowl.
 He shrugged and smiled at her, his eyes dancing.  “I know more things about  you than you think I do,” he replied mysteriously.
 “Oh, really, Mr. Macho Man?”  Scully’s eyes sparkled.  She lifted the bowl
from his hands before he had a chance to react.  Gathering some of the thick
chowder on the spoon she held it out, a smile playing across her lips.
 “No, Scully, you’re not going to spoon feed me.”
 “So it’s acceptable to spoon feed the woman, but a guy can’t be hand fed by  someone else?”
 “I didn’t say that. . . .”
 Scully meaningfully arched an eyebrow at him.  Mulder could swear he aw ‘Sure.  Fine.  Whatever.’ forming on her lips.  Surrendering, he opened his mouth obediently, and Scully fed him a spoonful of the chowder.  After several spoonfuls, Mulder succeeded in retrieving the spoon from Scully, and from then on the alternated feeding each other.  Finally, as Scully was ladling the last of the soup out of the bottom of the bowl for Mulder, they realized someone was standing in the door.
 Captain Janeway.
 *Why me?* Scully wondered.  Her muscles immediately tensed, and she knew Mulder would slide of the bed and pretend as if nothing had happened.
 He didn’t.
 He took the brimming spoon from Scully hand, and fed it to her.
 In front of the Captain.
 And Heather Whitney.
 Whitney had been slightly behind the Captain, and Scully had not noticed her at first.
 What was Mulder trying to prove? Scully wondered.  The he wasn’t afraid of his relationship with her, and that he wasn’t going to act like a criminal
caught in the act?
 “Can I help you, Captain?” he asked calmly, setting the empty bowl on the
tray, and the spoon beside it.
 “I was just going to check on Agent Scully,” replied Janeway, “but it seems
as though she’s in good hands.”  Mulder couldn’t tell if it was a smile or disapproval quirking at the corners of her mouth.  “As you were,” she said, absently waving a hand.  She turned and departed sickbay.
 As soon as the doors hissed closed behind her, Whitney stepped forward.  “I know I’m interrupting, but I just wanted to let you know that there’s going to be a party.”
 “A party?”
 “Yeah, to celebrate our safe return and your being here.”
 “You talked Janeway into this?” Mulder asked.
 Heather laughed.  “My uncle always did say I have a smooth tongue.  The party will be held in the holodeck.  We’re still trying to set a date; it ‘ll probably be in a few days or so.  The theme for it - and what the holodeck is going to be - is the late 1930’s.  I’m sure you know this, but that’s prior or just at the start of World War II.”
 Mulder nodded.  “Thanks for helping me brush up on eighth grade history,
Heather.”
 “I’m just so used to telling Voyager’s crew, since a lot of them aren’t even
from Earth!” She paused for a moment.  “Well, I’ll stop in later after my shift.  Just
wanted to let you into the circle.”
 “Bye.”
 Heather turned and left with a smile.
 Once she was gone, Mulder shifted on the bio bed.  “So, what should we
wear?”
 “Mulder, I can’t go like this,”  Scully protested, sweeping her hands over
her legs.
 “Yes you can.”
 “How?”
 “I’ll help you.”
 “No.”
 Mulder sighed.  “Scully, you’re going to have to let me help you.  You can’t
do this on your own.  It’s not a sign of weakness to let someone help you.”
 Scully held his gaze firmly, not flinching.  Finally, though, she sighed.  “Fine, Mulder.  I’m not saying yes to going.  But I agree to let you help me.”
 He grinned at her.  “Do you feel hot or sweaty?”
 Scully looked at him in puzzlement.  “Why?”
 “Would you like a sponge bath?”
 Scully’s eyes widened in surprise, and then narrowed playfully.  “Sure.”
 “Really?”
 “But not from you.”
 “Ah, that takes all the fun out of it,” Mulder whined, though he couldn’t suppress the gin that kept resurfacing.
 “I do want a bath.”
 Mulder’s eyebrows raised.  “You do?”
 Scully nodded.
 “Okay, I’ll take you back to your quarters, but first we need to ask the doctor and make sure it’s safe.”
 Scully nodded sharply.  “I agree completely.”
 “Computer, activate medical EMH.”
 A second later, the doctor was standing before them.  “Please state the
nature of the medical emergency. . . .Oh, Agent Mulder, hello.”
 “Scully is doing fine, Doctor, and she’d like to take a bath.  Is it all right if I take her back to her quarters to do so, if I stay near by in case there’s a problem?”
 The Doctor strode over to a table and picked up a medical tricorder.  He ran it over Scully, and after a minute seemed satisfied.  “She’s doing well.  All right, she can go.  But I don’t want her gone more than an hour.”
 After seeing Mulder’s agreement nod, the Doctor vanished as he turned
himself off.
 “Ready?” Mulder asked, turning back to Scully.
 “Ready to get clean: yes,” she replied.
 Mulder slid his arms around her and lifted her.  He carried her the same way he had carried her on the planet, and the familiarity was a nice feeling.
They drew some looks as they progressed through the halls, but most people
recognized them and waved or smiled.
 They finally reached the safety of Scully’s quarters.  She hadn’t been back in several days, and everything was just as she had left it before leaving
for the planet.  Mulder set her down in a chair, and then went into the
bathroom and turned on the water.
 “Do you want it hot or cold?” he called from the bathroom.
 “Very hot,” she replied, “so that I almost can’t stand it.”
 A moment later he reappeared form the bathroom, the sound of the running water grew muffled as he closed the door behind him to keep the steam in.
 “Okay, what do you need?”
 “Replicate a loose pajama top and bottom, and some soap you think will smell good.  I have everything else I need already in the bathroom.”
 Mulder did as she asked, and left the items in the bathroom.  Then he came back out to get her.
 Scully felt the faintest hint of a blush creep up her cheeks.  What was she
doing?!
 Mulder walked over and lifted her again.  He carried her into the warm
bathroom.
 “Set me down on the side of the tub.  I can get out of this gown and into
the bath tub,” she assured him.
 He nodded agonizingly, reluctant to leave and reluctant to stay.  “Let me
undo these for you.”
 Scully felt his rough fingers brush against her skin as he undid the clasps
on the back of the sickbay gown she wore.  Suddenly, his touch seemed unthinkably hot.  She shivered.  As he let last clasp fall open, he quickly
retreated outside of the bathroom, which was a good thing as a moment later the gown slid down Scully’s shoulders.  The rim of it was wet from where it had dangled in the bath water, but she was past caring.  She lifted it and threw it over her shoulder onto the bathroom floor.  Using her arms to propel her, she eased herself down into the burning water, and banished all thoughts of sickness from her mind.

***

 Close to a half an hour later, Mulder heard the bath water draining.  He
stood and stretched his legs and ambled over to the bathroom door.
 Inside the bathroom, Scully was successful in pulling herself up on the edge of the tub.  She wrapped the towel around her, and buried her nose in it for
a moment.  Then, she concentrated on drying herself off.  After teetering on the edge of the bath and nearly falling several times, she let herself slide to the floor.  The simple task of drying herself which before had been mindless now took all of her concentration.  After several minutes, she was able to pull her underpants, bra, and pajama top on, but she could not get the pajama bottoms on.  She berated herself for not asking Mulder to replicate a nightgown for her.  What had she been thinking?  Scully was on the verge of ripping the pants to shreds when there was a tap on the door.
 “Can I help?”  She paused, deciding what her response would be.  As if
sensing her hesitation, Mulder added, “Do you trust me, Scully?”
 *Yes,* she thought, *I trust him.  I’ve got to.  There’s no one else.* “Come.”
 The door was slowly pushed open, as to avoid hitting her.  Mulder slipped in an shut the door behind him.   Seeing her predicament, he carefully lifted her and set her down on the toilet seat.  He retrieved the pajama bottoms from their crumpled heap on the floor.  He knelt in front of Scully and gently took her foot in his hand and slid the one leg of the pajama bottoms up.  Then he took the other foot and did the same.
 “Wrap your arms around my neck,” he instructed.  She did so, trusting him.  He straightened, so that she was hovering just above the toilet seat, and in
one fluid motion he pulled the pajama’s up the rest of the way.  Instead of setting her back down as she expected him to do, he looped his arms under her and carried her out into the living area.  He didn’t meet her gaze, but Scully watched his face, his eyes.  She felt something well up in her throat.  There was no one she could trust more than him.  There was no one else who could turn the humiliating act of helping her dress as she couldn’t do it herself into an act of friendship and . . . love perhaps?  As soon as it came she banished the thought from her head.
 “Do you want anything here before we go back?” Mulder asked.
 Scully glanced around.  “Can you take me to the replicator?”  He complied.  “Computer, original version of Terran novel Moby Dick, unabridged.”  A moment later the book appeared, and Scully lifted it and held it.
 “Computer, site to site transport to sickbay,” Mulder instructed, not wanting to have to walk back through the maze of corridors again.
 The disappeared in a mist of blue light, and then reappeared in sickbay.
Mulder laid Scully down on the bed and pulled the blanket up around her.  He fed several of the large pillow back into the replicator, and then took a seat in the chair next to her.  He opened Moby Dick to the first page, and began to read.

***
 
 “What could be more full of meaning?--for the pulpit is ever this earth's foremost part; all the rest comes in its rear; the pulpit leads the world. From thence it is the storm of God's quick wrath is first described and the bow must bear the earliest brunt. From thence it is the God of breezes fair or foul is first invoked for favorable winds. Yes, the world's a ship on its passage out and not a voyage complete; and the pulpit is it's prow.”
 Mulder let his voice trail off as he ended the chapter he had been reading to Scully, then glanced down at the sleeping woman laying on the bed. Somewhere since they had settled down and he had begun to read Moby Dick with one arm stretched out behind her, she had fallen asleep -- using his arm as a pillow. He glanced up at the clock on the wall and was surprised to find that it was almost nine thirty. Hearing footsteps, he glanced up. There stood Zarine Bashire, covering up a yawn. "I just wanted to check in to make sure everything's all right," she commented softly, noting that Scully was asleep. "Lieutenant Paris weaseled me into covering for him after we got back in Sickbay. Something about World War II and luxury liners." She shrugged. "Anyway, good night! I'll see you around."
 "'Night," she called, then walked off.
 Mulder glanced back down at Scully. She looked so peaceful when she was asleep. She was so beautiful . . . He shook his head. He wasn't supposed to be thinking that way. She was his *partner*. Friend. Trust. But *not* lover.
 He sighed, and watched her sleep. Not wanting to wake her, he slowly started to remove his arm from underneath her head. The result was that she rolled over, now facing him, and snuggled up against it.
 Mulder had to smile. Realizing that he was going to be stuck here for awhile, he cautiously stood up and sat down on the side of the bed. Precariously, he lay down next to Scully. Still surprised that she hadn't yet awoken, he shifted his weight so that her head was still on his arm. Leaning down, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

***

 Harry sat down at the table in the Mess Hall, then glanced at the other four. After the debriefing, they had all planned to have dinner together in the Mess Hall -- their first real meal all day. “Thank God that’s over with,” he said.
 “I’m starving,” commented Heather, wearily sitting down. She covered up a yawn. “I’m ready to eat just about anything Neelix has to offer. Just as long as it doesn’t have leola root.”
 “Taste is irrelevant,” countered Seven
 Heather rolled her eyes, and Tom could just see ‘whatever’ forming on her lips.
 “I’m just relieved *that* away mission is over. I never want to see the inside of a cave again,” B’Elanna stated. She took a sip of coffee. “How’s Scully?”
 Paris said, “She’ll be fine within a week.”
 “What’s that supposed to mean?” replied Torres.
 “Scully’s legs are still paralyzed, but that should wear off by this time next week. I’m thinking we should plan the party then, so Scully will be able to come and stuff.” Heather explained.
 “State what you mean by ‘stuff’, Lieutenant,” Seven said, her Borgified eyebrow raising slightly, while at the same time Harry asked, “Stuff, Heather?”
 Heather managed a wicked grin even though she was tired. “Anyone ever tried swing dancing?”
*****
 B’Elanna kicked off her shoes and stepped into her bathroom. Stripping off her clothes, she stepped into the shower and activated it. Soon, energy pulses were rippling across her body, dissolving every single last piece of dirt and grime she had accumulated over the past two days while on the planet. She had quickly scrubbed her face, arms, and legs and tidied her hair before the debriefing in the conference lounge, but she was still dirty. A few minutes later, she sighed and stepped out. She reached for a towel, wrapped it around herself, and walked back into her bedroom. Going over to her laptop computer, she turned it on. “Computer, check for any messages,” she ordered, walking over to her dresser drawers. Pulling out some underwear and a long loose t shirt, she went back over to her computer. There was one message. From Heather Whitney.
 *I wonder what she’s thought of now,* B’Elanna thought, clicking on it and waiting for it to upload. Heather was always notorious for her outrageous notions ideas, although Torres had to give the other woman credit. Heather was a genius. Numerous times the half Betazoid's quick thinking and unorthodox ideas had gotten them out of bad situations.
 The letter uploaded, and she read it.
 “ ‘Lanna--
  Meet me in the Mess Hall for breakfast
  tomorrow. Tom and Harry will be
  there. Seven has yet to confirm.
   -- Heath”
 *Now what’s ^that^ all about?* Shrugging, she typed back a quick reply and sent it. Then she lay down on her bed. Not even bothering to pull up the covers, she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

***

 Scully opened her eyes slowly and had to strain her eyes in the dark. Feeling someone’s arm around her, she started and sat up as best as she could, frantic. When she saw it was Mulder, she immediately relaxed. *But why is he here? Where are we-* Catching a glance of Moby Dick, lying closed on the bedside table, she remembered. She propped herself up on one elbow and tried to move her legs. They still felt numb and like lead, and no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t move them. She managed to flex her toes a tiny bit, though, and relief flooded through her body. She was relieved to find the paralysis was going away -- if not slowly. She turned her thoughts towards the man lying next to her. Mulder was still dead asleep.
 When they had first arrived on Voyager, she had managed to convince herself that Mulder’s extra protectiveness over her was only because they were in a strange place in the future. But now . . . She shook her head slightly. Their relationship had changed so drastically over the past year or so, and she knew it was only a matter of time before things permanently changed.
 Leaning over, she cautiously brushed her lips against his forehead, then lay back down, content to fall back asleep. She had just closed her eyes when a loud voice said rather rudely. “Computer, lights.”
 The Doctor stood in the doorway, a smug look on his face as he observed the two agents’ positions. “Ah, Ms. Scully, you’re awake! Agent Mulder,” he acknowledged, seeing that the other agent was now awake as well. Scully looked groggily up at him, a blush slowly making its way across her face. Mulder, meanwhile, was rapidly blinking, trying to blink away the sleep. “I will be back with your medication in a moment,” the Doctor said, then disappeared from view.
 “You know, you’re cute when you blush,” whispered Mulder into Scully’s ear.
 Scully’s head jerked in his direction and she shot him a look. Mulder merely grinned impishly and sat up, then gently placed his hand on the small of her back to help her sit up. She tensed slightly. Not a lot, but it was enough. “Scully,” he said softly. “You’ve got to trust me.”
 She glanced down, then around the room. Anywhere but into Mulder’s eyes. Then she met his gaze, her blue eyes shining. She leaned forward. “I trust you.” she said sincerely in a whisper.
 Their faces were inches apart, and time seemed to freeze. Mulder leaned forward-
 The moment was interrupted by the EMH, who came bustling into the room again. Mulder and Scully pulled back; Mulder sat back and Scully sat all the way up with Mulder’s help. If the Doctor noticed anything he didn’t let on. He administered a hypospray to Scully’s neck, then scanned her with a medical tricorder. He smiled at the readings. “Well, Agent Scully, you’re free to leave Sickbay. I’ll want to see you every four hours today -- 1430 hours and 1830 hours. I’ll leave Agent Mulder with a hypospray to give to you during the night. As for your paralysis, attach these around your legs and activate them. They stimulate your nerves and muscles, and should increase your movement slightly. I suggest you try to walk as much as possible, but with supervision. You’re legs are still paralyzed. Understood?”
 Scully nodded slowly, gazing warily at the two black bands the Doctor gave to Mulder. “Understood.”
 “Good. Then I’ll see you later on today.” the Doctor told the two of them. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to see if Lieutenant Paris has appeared for his medical shift yet. As usual, he’s late.” He left, leaving the two agents alone again.
 “Computer, what time is it?” asked Mulder.
 “1030 hours.”
 “It’s already ten thirty?!” Scully repeated, incredulous. She tried to throw her legs over the side of the biobed in an effort to get up, but to no avail.
 “I don’t know about you, but I need a shower,” Mulder commented, wincing.
 Scully looked over at him, then nodded. “Even though I took one last night, I still can’t shake the feeling that I’m dirty from our trip to Manyarra,” she said.
 Mulder gently put his arms around her and picked her up, then carried her back to her quarters. “Hot bath?” he asked softly as he carefully set her down on the bed.
 Scully closed her eyes. “Please.”
 Mulder went into the bathroom, and pressed the buttons on the control panel.
 Nothing happened.
 After five more tries, he still couldn’t get it to work.
 “Mulder? Everything all right in there?” Scully called.
 “The bath won’t work,” Mulder replied.
 “Did Scully already have a bath?” a familiar voice asked.
 Mulder turned around only to find Heather standing in the doorway. “I dropped by to say hi. You guys sure sleep late,” she teased. “Maybe I should go back with you and live in the 20th century. I’d *love* to be able to sleep in past ten every day.”
 “Very funny. Yes she did have a bath last night. How do you get this to work?”  he shot back.
 Whitney frowned slightly. “You’re only allowed to have a bath or shower with real water every 72 hours. It limits the excess use of water; we’ve had to be careful how we use it over the years and we can’t refill every few months at a starbase.” she explained.
 “Then how do you get clean?” Mulder asked.
 “Sonic showers.” she said simply, walking over to something that looked very similar to a shower stall without shower curtains or a faucet overhead. “It sends out energy beams to purge your body of dirt. It’s state of the art, although . . .”
 “How does it work?” He scrutinized the control panel next to it, ignoring the fact that she had let her voice trail off.
 Heather got a strange look on her face. “Well . . . I’m not exactly willing to strip naked and show you, but basically you take off all your clothes and stand up.”
 *Oh, God. Scully’s gonna ^love^ this.* “Does it work with clothes on?” he asked.
 She flashed him a sympathetic smile, then shrugged. “The one time I tried it at the Academy when I was in too much of a hurry it ruined my cadet uniform. I wouldn’t recommend it, but it'd probably be all right if she had just her underwear on.”
 *Ooh, this is ^just^ great.* “All right. Thanks for your help.” he said sincerely. “So, how’re the party plans coming?”
 She grinned. “I’m on my way to the holodeck right now to start designing the holodeck program. Tom and I are *still* arguing about which setting to use. There is *no* way I’m going to use a British pub during wartime.”
 “What’s so bad about a British pub?” he teased her.
 She rolled her eyes. “I’ll drop by later.” she said as the two walked back into the bedroom, where Scully was sitting with her legs draped idly over the bed.
 “Bye! See ya later! Hey, do you want to meet Tom, B’Elanna, Harry, and me later on? We were thinking about having dinner or something in the Mess Hall. I’ll be in the Science Lab from 1200 hours to 1700 hours if you want to stop by and see some of the equipment we have, Scully. B’Elanna’ll be in Engineering most of the day, too. I have no clue what Tom and Harry’s schedules are.”
 “I think Tom’s in Sickbay right now,” said Scully.
 Whitney smirked. “Ooh, maybe I’ll drop by with a broken nail. Ciao!” She exited Scully’s quarters.
 “Now, about that bath . . .” Mulder looked over at Scully, who had an impassive look on her face. While he was still trying to figure out how exactly to tell Scully about the situation, she suddenly spoke up. “I heard.”
 “Oh.” Mulder paused, not knowing what to say.
 “It’s okay. Just as long as-” She shook her head. “You know what? I don’t even care anymore. This is all just so-” She stopped again, still shaking her head. She sighed. “Help me up?”
 “Always,” he said, flashing her a smile. He gently picked her up and then sat her back down on the bathroom counter. He glanced at her, not knowing what she was going to do next.
 To his immense surprise, she started to try to take off her nightshirt, nearly losing her balance in the process. Mulder quickly took over, stripping her of the long tee shirt while Scully managed to tug off her boxers.
 All of a sudden, the impact of everything hit her. She, Dana Scully, was sitting on a bathroom counter wearing nothing but her bra and underwear in front of her partner, Fox Mulder. *Oh, God,* she thought, biting her lip. This was even worse than those decontamination showers at Fort Marlenes. At least *there* she didn’t need his constant help.
 Thankfully, Mulder didn’t comment. Instead, he carefully slid his arms around her stomach and lifted her over to the sonic shower. With one arm around her waist to support her, he reached for the controls and pressed a button. She nearly started as she felt the energy pulses surge across and almost through her body, but then relaxed and closed her eyes, both arms stretched out on either side to support herself.
 A few minutes later, the energy pulses stopped, and Scully felt refreshed and free of any remaining dirt or grime. Mulder handed her a towel, not so much to dry off with but to give her a little dignity. “I’ll be right back,” he promised.
 Scully sat down on the toilet, waiting until Mulder came back. He wordlessly handed her some clean underwear, a long-sleeved cream-colored v-neck shirt, and khaki pants. Then he turned around while she quickly stripped off her underwear and changed into some clean ones and a bra. Next came the shirt. That wasn’t too hard. Then the damn pants. Why oh *why* were they so difficult? “Uhh . . . Mulder?” she asked feebly, feeling totally helpless.
 Mulder turned around, and, like he had before with the boxers, quickly slipped the pants on. She zipped them up and buttoned them, then nodded at Mulder’s unasked question. He picked her up again, and she leaned her head on his shoulders. While they weren’t home and were in a totally different universe, she had Mulder.
 And that was all she needed.

***
 After they had finished lunch, Whitney had offered to show Mulder around the science lab more thoroughly than the first time he had seen it - a brief glance around. He had a feeling she was only trying to help take his mind off Scully, and he had a feeling it wouldn’t help. He said so.
 Heather only grinned at him knowingly. “Mulder, she’s going to be all right. I swear.” she added, seeing the doubtful look on the agent’s face. “She’s in good hands. The Doctor’s got the memory of seven doctors. Unfortuantly, he didn’t inherit their bedside manners, but since Scully’s unconcious that shouldn’t be much of a problem.” The smile disappeared when Mulder didn’t smile. “Mulder,” she said sternly.
 He looked up.
 “Are you listening to me at *all*?” she asked.
 He stared up at her.
 She rolled her eyes. “Sure. Fine. Whatever,” she quipped. Seeing the startled look on Mulder’s face, she laughed. “C’mon.”

***

 “What exactly do you do?” Mulder asked.
 Heather shot him an eager smile, glad that his interest had been piqued. She knew he was worried sick to death about Scully -- she could feel it, even though she had tried very hard to block any thoughts or emotions she picked up from Mulder. Unfortuantly, Mulder broadcasted his feelings and thoughts like a radio turned onto the highest volume setting. Whitney had feeling she was going to have a migraine headache soon. “A lot of things. Right now we’re running tests on the new substances we picked up from the planet. We’ll record and store the results, and then perform experiments later on.” she tried to explain, then pressed a hand to her forehead. *Major* migraine headache.
 “You all right?” asked Mulder, his brow furrowed.
 Heather glanced up at him. “Yeah,” she said softly. “It’s nothing.” She changed subjects quickly. “So, what do you want to do next?”

***

 “I do *not* believe this,” Torres muttered as she stepped into the holodeck. She had gotten a call from Mulder, saying to meet him and Heather in Holodeck 2 dressed in workout clothes. She had been a bit annoyed at his persistancy, but Heather had threatened her to take away half her replicator rations and dye her hair blonde. Whenever Heather threatened someone, she meant it, so B’Elanna had decided to follow along.
 “What?” Tom asked, walking up to her. He had just finished up summarizing the Delta Flyer’s damage to the captain. He spotted Harry talking with Whitney and Mulder. Harry and Mulder wore athletic shorts and tee shirts, while Heather had donned on Adidas windpant shorts, a red tanktop, and her Swoopes shoes. Her brown hair was put up in a high ponytail. Then he glanced around at the program running. A slow smile spread across his face. “Don’t worry; you’ll love it,” he promised the engineer.
 B’Elanna gave him a skeptical look, but followed him over to the other three. She glanced around again, trying to figure out where this holoprogram had come from. They were in a large room with shiny wood floors. There were two large backboards with hoops on either end of the room. *A gym?* she wondered, slightly confused.
 “Hey, Tommy! ‘Lanna!” Heather said, flashing them a wicked grin. She knew how much they hated their ‘nicknames.’ “Ready to play ball?”
 Tom raised his hands slightly in front of him and Mulder passed him a medium-size orange ball with black stripes over it. Tom dribbled it for a moment, then nodded. “I had a feeling you were going to bring up this program sooner or later,” he added to Heather.
 Whitney looked innocent, but didn’t comment. She had been on the basketball team during high school, and had played at the gym for fun during the Acadamy years. Tom was a pretty good player as well, although he had never bothered to try out for any of the Acadamy teams after high school. And since Mulder had played basketball in college...
 “Am I the only one here who hasn’t a clue?” B’Elanna asked, already knowing the answer.
 Harry explained for her. “This sport is called basketball. It was invented in the 19th or 20th century -- am I correct?” Mulder nodded. “The object of the game is to dribble the ball down the court and make as many baskets as you can. It’s a bit like Parisees Squares, although you’re shooting the ball through a hoop instead of kicking it.” He looked over at Mulder to continue. Mulder then explained the fouls and the rest of the rules of the game.
 “It’s *really* fun,” Heather told B’Elanna with a smile.
 B’Elanna looked at the three men for confirmation. When Tom nodded, she shrugged. “I’m game.”

***

 Half an hour later, the five stopped playing defense as the buzzer sounded. They had created an opposing team of five players, and had only stopped for a few minutes in-between ten minute periods to take a break. “Nice shots.” she told Mulder. “Too bad Scully’s not here or else you could show off even more,” she teased.
 Mulder rolled his eyes.
 “Actions speak louder than words,” Tom muttered as he passed the agent.
 Mulder’s brow furrowed, then he opened up his water bottle and dumped the contents over the science officer. She stopped drinking and turned to look at him, her blue eyes wide. Then she slowly grinned mischieviously and threw hers at him. He ducked, and the water got both him and Harry. “You guys,” he said in a warning tone. The comment was directed towards Whitney, Mulder, and Paris, who was getting ready to soak Heather, but he looked directly at Heather.
 Heather only laughed. “Sorry,” she apologized.
 “So, how about another period?” asked B’Elanna, sitting down on the bench. She had been a bit wary at first, but basketball *was* fun, and she was mastering it with ease.
 “Sorry, but I can’t. My shift starts in fifteen minutes and I need to take a shower before I head over to the Science Lab.” replied Whitney.
 “You look like you already had one,” quipped Harry.
 “Watch it, or else you’ll get soaked as well,” shot back the half Betazoid, turning to glare at Kim.
 Harry raised up his hands in defense.
 “I can’t play, either. My shift in Sickbay starts soon,” Tom added, wiping his face with a towel. He set it down. “Sorry.”
 “Is there anything I can do?” Mulder spoke up. He *really* wanted to go to Sickbay with Tom to see Scully, but the Doctor had made it quite clear that he wasn’t to go until the EMH gave him the go-ahead.
 “I’m sure I can find some reason to distract the Doc while you sneak in to Scully’s room,” Paris offered with a knowing smile.
 Torres snorted. “I’ll bet you could.”
 Heather grinned menacingly. “Need any help?” Her bottom lip started to quiver, and her eyes filled with tears. Then she started crying hysterically. “I broke a n-nail!” she managed to gasp through her tears. “My nail! It’s brrrrooken!!!”
 Harry shook his head. “You are incorrigible,” he told her.
 Heather shrugged. “So what?”

***

 Mulder waited a minute outside Sickbay after Tom went inside, and then cautiously walked through the doors. The Doctor and Paris were nowhere in sight. Then he quickened his pace and headed for the room where Scully was supposed to be in. He quickly closed the doors behind him, then turned to the biobed. Scully was still asleep. He quietly pulled up a chair and sat down, then took her hand.
 She stirred, then opened her eyes. They were clouded with confusion as she gazed up at him. “Mulder?” she asked softly. “What happened?”
 “You don’t remember?” he asked, squeezing her hand.
 Scully shook her head. “I remember swimming. You were right behind me, and then-” She shrugged.
 “Ah, Ms. Scully,” a familiar voice spoke up. The Doctor strode into the room, shooting Mulder a look before turning his full attention back to the other agent. “Good, you’re awake. I was beginning to get worried.” He administered a hypospray into Scully’s neck. “You overexhausted yourself today, and your muscles have cramped up again. You’ll probably need another week to regain full control over your leg muscles.”
 Scully closed her eyes. She had known that was a possibility, but swimming had felt so good, and she had been starting to actually feel her legs again so she had ignored the warning voice in the back of her mind. “When can I leave Sickbay?”
 “Whenever you want. Mr. Paris will be here if you require anything. Goodbye!” The Doctor left.
 Scully struggled to sit up, and didn’t bother to argue when Mulder ended up helping her.
 “How do you feel?” he asked her.
 She looked up at him before reverting her gaze to her hands, which were still entertwined with his. “Pretty stupid,” she admitted quietly, then paused. “How long was I out?”
 “Three hours. I would have stayed here but the Doc kicked me out.”
 Scully smiled softly. Her curiousity piqued, she asked. “So what did you do?”
 “Heather showed me the science lab and the different equipment, then we met Harry at the holodeck and ran the Captain Proton holonovel. After that we played basketball with Tom and B’Elanna.” he explained.
 “Captain Proton?” Scully asked incredulously.
 “Heather makes a great Constance Goodheart,” smirked Mulder. Seeing the puzzled look on Scully’s face, he quoted Tom. “A ‘screaming blonde.’”
 Scully smiled. “Really?”
 Mulder nodded. “Yeah; turns out she takes up the role when Seven’s not there. Normally she’s Agent Rifka, a spy. Of course, she’s still ticked off about her costume, but Harry and I managed to convince her to take up the part.”
 Scully shook her head. “That sounds like Heather.” She paused. “Can we go somewhere to eat? I’m starving.”
 He grinned and picked her up. “You know, I could get used to carrying you,” he teased.
 Scully only shot him a look.

***
 
{{Moby Dick passage]]
        Mulder let his voice trail off as he ended the chapter he had been reading to Scully, then glanced down at the sleeping woman laying on the bed. Somewhere since they had settled down and he had begun to read Moby Dick with one arm stretched out behind her, she had fallen sleep -- using his arm as a pillow. He glanced up at the clock on the wall and was surprised to find that
it was almost nine thirty. Hearing footsteps, he glanced up. There stood Zarine Bashire, covering up a yawn. "I just wanted to check in to make sure everything's all right," she commented softly, noting that Scully was asleep. "Lieutenant Paris weasled me into covering for him after we got back in Sickbay. Something about World War II and luxery liners." She shrugged. "Anyway, good night! I'll see you around."
        "'Night," she called, then walked off.
        Mulder glanced back down at Scully. She looked so peaceful when she was asleep. She was so beautiful . . . He shook his head. He wasn't supposed to be thinking that way. She was his *partner*. Friend. Trust. But *not* lover.
        He sighed, and watched her sleep. Not wanting to wake her, he slowly started to remove his arm from underneath her head. The result was that she rolled over, now facing him, and snuggled up against it.
        Mulder had to smile. Realizing that he was going to be stuck here for awhile, he cautiously stood up and sat down on the side of the bed. Precariously, he lay down next to Scully. Still surprised that she hadn't yet awoken, he shifted his weight so that her head was still on his arm. Leaning down, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

***

        Harry sat down at the table in the Mess Hall, then glanced at the other four. After the debriefing, they had all planned to have dinner together in the Mess Hall -- their first real meal all day. "Thank God that's over with," he said.
        "I'm starving," commented Heather, wearily sitting down. She covered up a yawn. "I'm ready to eat just about anything Neelix has to offer. Just as long as it doesn't have leola root."
        "Taste is irrelavent," countered Seven
        Heather rolled her eyes, and Tom could just see 'whatever' forming on her lips.
        "I'm just relieved *that* away mission is over. I never want to see the inside of a cave again," B'Elanna stated. She stook a sip of coffee. "How's Scullly?"
        Paris said, "She'll be fine within a week."
        "What's that supposed to mean?" replied Torres.
        "Scully's legs are still paralyzed, but that should wear off by this time next week. I'm thinking we should plan the party then, so Scully will be able to come and stuff." Heather explained.
        "State what you mean by 'stuff', Lieutenant," Seven said, her Borgified eyebrow raising slightly, while at the same time Harry asked, "Stuff, Heather?"
        Heather managed a wicked grin even though she was tired. "Anyone ever tried swing dancing?"
*****
 B'Elanna kicked off her shoes and stepped into her bathroom. Strippping off her clothes, she stepped into the shower and activated it. Soon, energy pulses were rippling across her body, dissolving every single last piece of dirt and grime her she had accmulated over the past two days while on the planet. She had quickly scrubbed her face and tidied her hair before the debriefing in the conference lounge, but she was still dirty. A few minutes later, she sighed and stepped out. She reached for a towel, wrapped it around herself, and walked back into her bedroom. Going over to her laptop computer, she turned it on. "Computer, check for any messages," she ordered, walking over to her dresser drawers. Pulling out some underwear
and a long loose t shirt, she went back over to her computer. There was one message. From Heather Whitney.
 *I wonder what she's thought of now,* B'Elanna thought, clicking on it and waiting for it to upload. Heather was always notorious for her outrageous notions ideas, although Torres had to give the other woman credit. Heather was a genius. Numerous times the half Betazoid's quick thinking and unorthodox ideas had gotten them out of bad situations.
 The letter uploaded, and she read it.
 " 'Lanna--
  Meet me in the Mess Hall for breakfast
  tomorrow. Tom and Harry will be
  there. Seven has yet to confirm.
   -- Heath"

 *Now what's ^that^ all about?* Shrugging, she typed back a quick reply and sent it. Then she lay down on her bed. Not even bothering to pull up the covers, she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

***

        Scully opened her eyes slowly and had to strain her eyes in the dark. Feeling someone's arm around her, she started and sat up as best as she could, frantic. When she saw it was Mulder, she immediately relaxed. *But why is he here? Where are we-* Catching a glance of Moby Dick, lying closed on the bedside table, she remembered. She propped herself up on one elbow and tried to move her legs. They still felt numb and like lead, and no matter how
hard she tried she couldn't move them. She managed to flex her toes a tiny bit, though, and relief flooded through her body. She was relieved to find the paralysis was going away -- if not slowly. She turned her thoughts towards the man lying next to her. Mulder was still dead asleep.
        When they had first arrived on Voyager, she had managed to convince herself that Mulder's extra protectiveness over her was only because they were in a strange place in the future. But now . . . She shook her head slightly. Thier relationship had changed so drastically over the past year or so, and she knew it was only a matter of time before things permenantly changed.
        Leaning over, she cautiously brushed her lips against his forehead, then lay back down, content to fall back asleep. She had just closed her eyes when a loud voice said rather rudely. "Computer, lights."
        The Doctor stood in the doorway, a smug look on his face as he observed the two agents' positions. "Ah, Ms. Scully, you're awake! Agent Mulder," he acknowledged, seeing that the other agent was now awake as well. Scully looked groggily up at him, a blush slowly making its way across her face. Mulder, meanwhile, was rapidly blinking, trying to blink away the sleep. "I will be back with your medication in a moment," the Doctor said, then disappeared from view.
        "You know, you're cute when you blush," whispered Mulder into Scully's ear.
        Scully's head jerked in his direction and she shot him a look. Mulder merely grinned impishly and sat up, then gently placed his hand on the small of her back to help her sit up. She tensed slightly. Not a lot, but it was enough. "Scully," he said softly. "You've got to trust me."
        She glanced down, then around the room. Anywhere but into Mulder's eyes. Then she met his gaze, her blue eyes shining. She leaned forward. "I trust you." she said sincerely in a whisper.
        Their faces were inches apart, and time seemed to freeze. Mulder leaned forward-
        The moment was interrupted by the EMH, who came bustling into the room again. Mulder and Scully pulled back; Mulder sat back and Scully sat all the way up with Mulder's help. If the Doctor noticed anything he didn't let on. He administered a hypospray to Scully's neck, then scanned her with a medical tricorder. He smiled at the readings. "Well, Agent Scully, you're free to leave Sickbay. I'll want to see you every four hours today -- 1430 hours and 1830 hours. I'll leave Agent Mulder with a hypospray to give to you during the night. As for your paralysis, attatch these around your legs and activate them. They stimulate your nerves and muscles, and should increase your movement slightly. I suggest you try to walk as much as possible, but
with supervision. You're legs are still paralyzed. Understood?"
        Scully nodded slowly, gazing warily at the two black bands the Doctor gave to Mulder. "Understood."
        "Good. Then I'll see you later on today." the Doctor told the two of them. "If you'll excuse me, I need to see if Lieutenant Paris has appeared for his medical shift yet. As usual, he's late." He left, leaving the two agents alone again.
        "Computer, what time is it?" asked Mulder.
        "1030 hours."
        "It's already ten thirty?!" Scully repeated, incredulous. She tried to throw her legs over the side of the biobed in an effort to get up, but to no avail.
        "I don't know about you, but I need a shower," Mulder commented, wincing.
        Scully looked over at him, then nodded. "Even though I took one last night, I still can't shake the feeling that I'm dirty from our trip to Manyarra," she said.
        Mulder gently put his arms around her and picked her up, then carried her back to her quarters. "Hot bath?" he asked softly as he carefully set her down on the bed.
        Scully closed her eyes. "Please."
        Mulder went into the bathroom, and pressed the buttons on the control panel.
        Nothing happened.
        After five more tries, he still couldn't get it to work.
        "Mulder? Everything all right in there?" Scully called.
        "The bath won't work," Mulder replied.
        "Did Scully already have a bath?" a familiar voice asked.
        Mulder turned around only to find Heather standing in the doorway. "I dropped by to say hi. You guys sure sleep late," she teased.
        "Very funny. Yes she did have a bath last night. How do you get this to work?" he shot back.
        Whitney frowned slightly. "You're only allowed to have a bath or shower with real water every 72 hours. It limits the excess use of water; we've had to be careful how we use it over the years and we can't refill every few months at a starbase." she explained.
        "Then how do you get clean?" Mulder asked.
        "Sonic showers." she said simply, walking over to something that looked very similar to a shower stall without shower curtains or a faucet overhead. "It sends out energy beams to purge your body of dirt. It's state of the art, although . . ."
        "How does it work?" He scrutinized the control panel next to it, ignoring the fact that she had let her voice trail off.
        Heather got a strange look on her face. "Well . . . I'm not exactly willing to strip naked and show you, but basically you take off all your clothes and stand up."
        *Oh, God. Scully's gonna ^love^ this.* "Does it work with clothes on?" he asked.
        She flashed him a sympathetic smile, then shrugged. "The one time I tried it at the Acadamy when I was in too much of a hurry it ruined my cadet uniform. I wouldn't recommend it, but it'd probably be all right if she had just her underwear on."
        *Ooh, this is ^just^ great.* "All right. Thanks for your help." he said sincerely. "So, how're the party plans coming?"
        She grinned. "I'm on my way to the holodeck right now to start designing the holodeck program. Tom and I are *still* arguing about which setting to use. There is *no* way I'm going to use a British pub during wartime."
        "What's so bad about a British pub?" he teased her.
        She rolled her eyes. "I'll drop by later." she said as the two walked back into the bedroom, where Scully was sitting with her legs draped idly over the bed.
        "Bye! See ya later! Hey, do you want to meet Tom, B'Elanna, Harry, and me later on? We were thinking about having dinner or something in the Mess Hall. I'll be in the Science Lab from 1200 hours to 1700 hours if you want to stop by and see some of the equipment we have, Scully. B'Elanna'll be in Engineering most of the day, too. I have no clue what Tom and Harry's schedules are."
        "I think Tom's in Sickbay right now," said Scully.
        Whitney smirked. "Ooh, maybe I'll drop by with a broken nail. Ciao!" She exited Scully's quarters.
        "Now, about that bath . . ." Mulder looked over at Scully, who had an impassive look on her face. While he was still trying to figure out how exactly to tell Scully about the situation, she suddenly spoke up. "I heard."
        "Oh." Mulder paused, not knowing what to say.
        "It's okay. Just as long as-" She shook her head. "You know what? I don't even care anymore. This is all just so-" She stopped again, still shaking her head. She sighed. "Help me up?"
        "Always," he said, flashing her a smile. He gently picked her up and then sat her back down on the bathroom counter. He glanced at her, not knowing what she was going to do next.
        To his immense surprise, she started to try to take off her nightshirt, nearly losing her balance in the process. Mulder quickly took over, stripping her of the long tee shirt while Scully managed to tug off her boxers.
        All of a sudden, the impact of everything hit her. She, Dana Scully, was sitting on a bathroom counter wearing nothing but her bra and underwear in front of her partner, Fox Mulder. *Oh, God,* she thought, biting her lip. This was even worse than those decomtamination showers at Fort Marlene. At least *there* she didn't need his constant help.
        Thankfully, Mulder didn't comment. Instead, he carefully slid his arms around her stomach and lifted her over to the sonic shower. With one arm around her waist to support her, he reached for the controls and pressed a button. She nearly started as she felt the energy pulses surge across and almost through her body, but then relaxed and closed her eyes, both arms
stretched out on either side to support herself.
        A few minutes later, the energy pulses stopped, and Scully felt refreshed and free of any remaining dirt or grime. Mulder handed her a towel, not so much to dry off with but to give her a little dignity. "I'll be right back," he promised.
        Scully sat down on the toilet, waiting until Mulder came back. He wordlessly handed her some clean underwear, a long-sleeved cream-colored v-neck shirt, and khaki pants. Then he turned around while she quickly stripped off her underwear and changed into some clean ones. Next came the shirt. That wasn't too hard. Then the damn pants. Why oh *why* were they so
difficult? "Uhh . . . Mulder?" she asked feebly, feeling totally helpless.
        Mulder turned around, and like he had before with the boxers, quickly slipped the pants on. She zipped them up and buttoned them, then nodded at Mulder's unasked question. He picked her up again, and she leaned her head on his shoulders. While they weren't home and were in a totally different universe, she had Mulder.
        And that was all she needed.

***

 The riding instructor - her name was Mary - strode toward Scully, a smile on her face.  "Ready to start?" she asked.
 "Mhmm," murmured Scully, and then under her breath, "as ready as I ever will be."
 "Great!" Mary smiled.  "Okay, as I'm sure you've noticed, Lissie doesn't have a bridle on.  This is a method that we use because it forces you to use your legs to control her.  Even in regular horse back riding this is good because ideally you should be able to control the horse totally just by using your legs.  In our case, it also helps strengthen them."  Scully nodded. "I'm just going to lead you around at first so that you can get a feel for the way she rides, and get more comfortable with her, so that later on you can ride her without me."
 Scully felt like a child at the fair ground being led around on a pony, but it was relaxing.  She wiggled her toes, and was satisfied when she could feel them move inside her riding boots.  Mulder was leaning on the fence to the paddock, watching her ride.  He smiled encouragingly at her as she passed.  After several times around the ring, Mary halted Lissie.
 "Do you wanna try her on your own?"  Scully tried to suppress a doubtful look, but she must not have been too successful, as Mary said, "Don't worry, Dana.  She has nowhere to run.  Also, she's trained to help people with physical therapy; she's done this exercise a hundred times."
 "All right.  What do I do?" Scully asked, in a tone that she hoped sounded confidant.
 Mary smiled at her.  "I'll walk right along beside you.  Okay, now I know you can't feel your legs very well, if at all, but I want you to cluck to her and click your tongue and try and squeeze your legs."
 Scully did so, certain that even with all her concentration applied to it, the horse had not felt an ounce of pressure from her legs.  But to Scully's surprise, Lissie lurched forward at an easy walk.
 "Good!" encouraged Mary.  They walked around the ring several times.  "Now, I want you to say 'hoe.'"  Scully did as Mary commanded, and Lissie stopped obediently, her ears flicking around.  They repeated the procedure several more times, until Mary finally asked, "Do you want to try to walk her just by putting pressure on her?"
 "I'll try." Scully took a deep breath, and squeezed her legs as hard as possible, straining to feel something - anything.  And then she felt it.  A slight tension in her right leg, just below her knee.  She couldn't keep a small smile from darting across her lips.  With renewed confidence, she concentrated even harder, and she started to feel a hot tension spread through parts of both legs.  After a few moments Lissie started to amble down the length of the paddock.
 "Great!" Mary exclaimed.  "You're doing wonderful!"
 The rest of the lesson proceeded much the same.  No miracles happened, and to Scully it didn't seem as if much progress had been made, but she knew that every day she would be able to feel more.  As Mulder carried her back to her quarters to clean up from the lesson, Scully felt better than she had in days.  She didn't feel helpless anymore.  She could finally do something about her situation.

***

 "Agent Scully, it is 0730 hours."
 Scully moaned quietly and rolled over in bed, untangling herself from Mulder's hold.  While she couldn't feel her legs very well, she could feel some of the muscles that were protesting against her ride the day before.  She propped herself up on an elbow, and gazed at Mulder, in bed next to her.   She could tell that the alarm had waken him, but his eyes were still
closed.  She gazed at his long, dark lashes, and his slightly-too-big nose.  His lips were parted softly, and their position created a nearly unintelligible whistling noise as he breathed in and out.  He was her comforter, and she his.  He had waken her in the middle of the night with one of his nightmares. . . .
 She had been awakened by Mulder as he had fought and pelted the numerous demons that plagued his nightmares.  She had felt her heart break as she saw the expression of fear etched on his face, and in that instant she had realized the magnitude of what he went through nearly every night, the terrors that he faced when he closed his eyes.  She had wrapped her arms around his shaking form, and held him.  She had held him fiercely, as if her touch could envigor him to fight the demons and triumph over them.  She had held him to her, not letting go even as he squirmed and fought her, until finally his eyes had flown open.  When he had awaken, she had held him even harder as he had cried into her breast, cried for all the nights when no one had been there to hold him, no one to understand or know of the terrors he
faced, until finally they had both fallen into an exhausted sleep, tangled in each other's arms.
 Scully ran a finger down Mulder's bare arm.  How would she explain this to AD Skinner?  "Yes, sir, we've slept together, but we haven't ever *slept* together."
 Mulder's eyes finally flickered open.  "Scully. . ." he murmured, reaching for her.
 "I'm here."  She slid back over next to him and leaned her head in the crook of his arm.   *And I'll always be here, Mulder,* she added silently.
 They lay in silence for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts.  "Ready to greet the day with a smile?" Mulder finally asked her.
 "Always," she replied, with a smile for him.

***

 After having breakfast with B'Elanna and Tom, Mulder and Scully had made their way to holodeck once again, though this time for a different activity.   When they got there, Heather Whitney was already in the water of the Olympic sized swimming pool.  "Come on in, the water's fine!" she called to them.
 "We're coming, we're coming," mumbled Mulder, setting Scully down on the edge of the pool.  She slipped out of the white terrycloth robe she had worn to the holodeck, and was in a black bathing suit that crisscrossed in the back.  Luckily, she had managed to get it on by herself, as Mulder could never tell how far she wanted him to go with helping her.  He was willing to
do anything for her, but he didn't want to go past the point of no return.
 Scully lowered himself into the water, hands holding tightly to the side.  The lukewarm water caused a sharp intake of breath, but by the time Mulder had thrown off the sweatpants and tee-shirt he had over his trunks and clambered into the water beside her, Scully was already used to the temperature.
 "How long have you been here?" Mulder asked, turning to Heather.
 Heather glanced at the chronometer on the wall.  "About a half an hour.  I was doing laps," she explained, before directing her attention on Scully.  "Lemme get the stuff for you."  She paddled over to the edge and pulled herself out onto the pool deck.  She scrambled over to a large locker at one side and pulled the door open.  Inside was an array of swimming
paraphernalia.  She removed a purple flotation device with straps from the locker before pushing the door closed again, and then returning to the water.  She held the flotation out to Scully.  "If you snap that strap around your waist, the small flotation devices will act as buoys on either
side of you so that you won't sink, and you can concentrate on kicking your legs, not surviving drowning." Heather smiled.
 She and Mulder helped Scully hook it around her waist, and then she pushed off from the side and floated on her back, eyes closed.  When she opened her eyes, Scully smiled slightly.  "I'd forgotten how nice it is to swim."
 "I agree!" Heather added, doing the breast stroke out to where Scully had drifted.  "Okay, I want you to flip over onto your stomach," she instructed, changing to teacher mode.  When Scully had complied, Heather took hold of her legs.  "I'm going to start out slowly, and move your legs in scissor kicks."  She did so; ripples cascaded out in every direction from the
repeated motion.  "Can you feel anything?" she asked.
 Scully's brow crinkled in concentration.  "I can feel a . . . tension.  As you do it more, I'm beginning to feel almost a . . . burning, like when your foot goes to sleep," she explained.
 "Good.  You're making progress.  As you do more exercises, you'll be able to feel more."
 Heather continued the procedure for several minutes.  "Yes," Scully agreed, "the burning has gotten stronger.  It's not exactly painful, but it's somewhat . . . uncomfortable.  I'm beginning to feel what I believe to be my muscles tensing and relaxing."  She moved her ankle in a circular motion to show Heather.  "I have feeling up to my ankle, thought it is somewhat dulled by the paralysis still."
 They did several other exercises much the same: simple, but geared toward getting     her blood moving,  ideally to improve Scully's feeling in her legs.  Then, Heather got a yellow nylon rope with a hook out of the locker.  She hooked the catching mechanism onto a loop on Scully's flotation device, and then slipped out of the water and walked to the other end of the pool.  She looped the roped around a pole of the low diving board, to act as a lever.  Then, as she slowly pulled Scully across the pool, Scully was instructed to try and kick her legs.  This exercise was to allow Scully to practice moving her legs on her own, but she wouldn't have the added factor if having to keep herself moving.  Throughout the 'lesson,' Mulder had stayed to one side, helping whenever needed, but mainly just watching Scully.
 As he watched her splash around in the water, he felt something well up in his chest, a tight knot of emotion that he kept a firm hold on.  He felt tears spring to his eyes; this happened to other people, not Scully.  It killed him to watch her so helpless, nearly defeated, and yet she kept her chin high, never willing to give up or hand over and ounce of ground that she had gained.  His love for her threatened to overwhelm him; it was so many things at once, such a complex love affair he and Scully had.  His love for her was a mix of different emotions: deep friendship, guilt, longing, duty, and even dependence.  But among all the varied squares of emotion that dotted the quilt he had sewn and added to throughout their years together was the piece of fabric that connected and held everything together: deep abiding love.  He had never felt this way about another person.  He had never felt the aching deep in his soul for her . . . There was no one else he could imagine himself with . . . no one else he wanted to imagine himself with.
 Mulder was startled out of his reverie as Scully flicked some water in his face.  "Come on down out of the clouds and help me get this off, Mulder."  He shook his head as though to clear cobwebs and helped her unbuckle the hook from her flotation device.
 Heather had her do various other exercises; so many, in fact, that Mulder wondered if it was healthy for Scully.  He voiced his concerns, and Heather agreed.  "I've tried to get her to stop several times, but she's determined.   She's making great progress, and she seems to be doing okay, so. . . ."  Heather shrugged her shoulders.  "You can try."
 And try he did, without succeeding.  Scully said she was fine.  And she looked fine, she had a glow behind her eyes that came from being able to move and exercise that he hadn't seen in days.  So he let her continue, suppressing his fears that she would overwork herself.
 Later, after they had had to rush Scully back to sickbay, he berated himself for not listening to his instincts.  She had indeed overworked herself, the Doctor informed them.  So much that she had set herself back a day or two.  She had strained her muscles too much and too fast, so that had sent them into spasms, and then they had locked up.  So all her progress had turned to regress: she was back where she had started.  The doctor assured them that
she was not in danger, and hten he pressed a hypspray to her neck to let her sleep.  He chased Mulder and Heather out of his sickbay like foxes in the hen's nest.  "I'll inform you when she wakes up."
 Heather convinced Mulder to come to the Mess Hall with her to get something to eat.  Once they had trooped in and selected a table, Mulder slid into the chair and closed his eyes, his hands knotted in fists on the table.  *I didn't protect her,* he thought guiltily.
 *Why do you have this mentality that you must protect her?* Heather answered back.
 Mulder's eyes flew open in surprise, then his eyes narrowed.  *It's not polite to eavesdrop on someone else's thoughts.*
 *Mulder, your thoughts are loud enough it's like they're being braodcast on a radio.  Back to my original question: why do you have to protect her?*
 Mulder hesitated, shuffling his feet under the table.  Heather's eyes seemed to bore into his skull, but he avaded her gaze.  Then he answered simply: *Because I love her.*

***

***
 After they had finished lunch, Whitney had offered to show Mulder around the science lab more thoroughly than the first time he had seen it - a brief glance around. He had a feeling she was only trying to help take his mind off Scully, and he had a feeling it wouldn't help. He said so.
 Heather only grinned at him knowingly. "Mulder, she's going to be all right. I swear." she added, seeing the doubtful look on the agent's face. "She's in good hands. The Doctor's got the memory of seven doctors. Unfortuantly, he didn't inherit their bedside manners, but since Scully's
unconcious that shouldn't be much of a problem." The smile disappeared when Mulder didn't smile. "Mulder," she said sternly.
 He looked up.
 "Are you listening to me at *all*?" she asked.
 He stared up at her.
 She rolled her eyes. "Sure. Fine. Whatever," she quipped. Seeing the startled look on Mulder's face, she laughed. "C'mon."

***

 "What exactly do you do?" Mulder asked.
 Heather shot him an eager smile, glad that his interest had been piqued. She knew he was worried sick to death about Scully -- she could feel it, even though she had tried very hard to block any thoughts or emotions she picked up from Mulder. Unfortuantly, Mulder broadcasted his feelings and thoughts like a radio turned onto the highest volume setting. Whitney had feeling she was going to have a migraine headache soon. "A lot of things. Right now we're running tests on the new substances we picked up from the planet. We'll record and store the results, and then perform experiments later on." she tried to explain, then pressed a hand to her forehead. *Major* migraine headache.
 "You all right?" asked Mulder, his brow furrowed.
 Heather glanced up at him. "Yeah," she said softly. "It's nothing." She changed subjects quickly. "So, what do you want to do next?"

***

 "I do *not* believe this," Torres muttered as she stepped into the holodeck. She had gotten a call from Mulder, saying to meet him and Heather in Holodeck 2 dressed in workout clothes. She had been a bit annoyed at his persistancy, but Heather had threatened her to take away half her replicator rations and dye her hair blonde. Whenever Heather threatened someone, she meant it, so B'Elanna had decided to follow along.
 "What?" Tom asked, walking up to her. He had just finished up summarizing the Delta Flyer's damage to the captain. He spotted Harry talking with Whitney and Mulder. Harry and Mulder wore athletic shorts and tee shirts, while Heather had donned on Adidas windpant shorts, a red tanktop, and her Swoopes shoes. Her brown hair was put up in a high ponytail. Then he glanced around at the program running. A slow smile spread across his face. "Don't worry; you'll love it," he promised the engineer.
 B'Elanna gave him a skeptical look, but followed him over to the other three. She glanced around again, trying to figure out where this holoprogram had come from. They were in a large room with shiny wood floors. There were two large backboards with hoops on either end of the room. *A gym?* she wondered, slightly confused.
 "Hey, Tommy! 'Lanna!" Heather said, flashing them a wicked grin. She knew how much they hated their 'nicknames.' "Ready to play ball?"
 Tom raised his hands slightly in front of him and Mulder passed him a medium-size orange ball with black stripes over it. Tom dribbled it for a moment, then nodded. "I had a feeling you were going to bring up this program sooner or later," he added to Heather.
 Whitney looked innocent, but didn't comment. She had been on the basketball team during high school, and had played at the gym for fun during the Acadamy years. Tom was a pretty good player as well, although he had never bothered to try out for any of the Acadamy teams after high school. And since Mulder had played basketball in college...
 "Am I the only one here who hasn't a clue?" B'Elanna asked, already knowing the answer.
 Harry explained for her. "This sport is called basketball. It was invented in the 19th or 20th century -- am I correct?" Mulder nodded. "The object of the game is to dribble the ball down the court and make as many baskets as you can. It's a bit like Parisees Squares, although you're
shooting the ball through a hoop instead of kicking it." He looked over at Mulder to continue. Mulder then explained the fouls and the rest of the rules of the game.
 "It's *really* fun," Heather told B'Elanna with a smile.
 B'Elanna looked at the three men for confirmation. When Tom nodded, she shrugged. "I'm game."

***

 Half an hour later, the five stopped playing defense as the buzzer sounded. They had created an opposing team of five players, and had only stopped for a few minutes in-between ten minute periods to take a break. "Nice shots." Whitney told Mulder. "Too bad Scully's not here or else you could show off even more," she teased.
 Mulder rolled his eyes.
 "Actions speak louder than words," Tom muttered as he passed the agent.
 Mulder's brow furrowed, then he opened up his water bottle and dumped the contents over the science officer. She stopped drinking and turned to look at him, her blue eyes wide. Then she slowly grinned mischieviously and threw hers at him. He ducked, and the water got both him and Harry. "You guys," he said in a warning tone. The comment was directed towards Whitney, Mulder, and Paris, who was getting ready to soak Heather, but he looked directly at
Heather.
  Heather only laughed. "Sorry," she apologized.
 "So, how about another period?" asked B'Elanna, sitting down on the bench. She had been a bit wary at first, but basketball *was* fun, and she was mastering it with ease.
 "Sorry, but I can't. My shift starts in fifteen minutes and I need to take a shower before I head over to the Science Lab." replied Whitney.
 "You look like you already had one," quipped Harry.
 "Watch it, or else you'll get soaked as well," shot back the half Betazoid, turning to glare at Kim.
 Harry raised up his hands in defense.
 "I can't play, either. My shift in Sickbay starts soon," Tom added, wiping his face with a towel. He set it down. "Sorry."
 "Is there anything I can do?" Mulder spoke up. He *really* wanted to go to Sickbay with Tom to see Scully, but the Doctor had made it quite clear that he wasn't to go until the EMH gave him the go-ahead.
 "I'm sure I can find some reason to distract the Doc while you sneak in to Scully's room," Paris offered with a knowing smile.
 Torres snorted. "I'll bet you could."
 Heather grinned menacingly. "Need any help?" Her bottom lip started to quiver, and her eyes filled with tears. Then she started crying hysterically. "I broke a n-nail!" she managed to gasp through her tears. "My nail! It's brrrrooken!!!"
 Harry shook his head. "You are incorrigible," he told her.
 Heather shrugged. "So what?"

***

 Mulder waited a minute outside Sickbay after Tom went inside, and then cautiously walked through the doors. The Doctor and Paris were nowhere in sight. Then he quickened his pace and headed for the room where Scully was supposed to be in. He quickly closed the doors behind him, then turned to the biobed. Scully was still asleep. He quietly pulled up a chair and sat down, then took her hand.
 She stirred, then opened her eyes. They were clouded with confusion as she gazed up at him. "Mulder?" she asked softly. "What happened?"
 "You don't remember?" he asked, squeezing her hand.
 Scully shook her head. "I remember swimming. You were right behind me, and then-" She shrugged.
 "Ah, Ms. Scully," a familiar voice spoke up. The Doctor strode into the room, shooting Mulder a look before turning his full attention back to the other agent. "Good, you're awake. I was beginning to get worried." He administered a hypospray into Scully's neck. "You overexhausted yourself today, and your muscles have cramped up again. You'll probably need another week to regain full control over your leg muscles."
 Scully closed her eyes. She had known that was a possibility, but swimming had felt so good, and she had been starting to actually feel her legs again so she had ignored the warning voice in the back of her mind. "When can I leave Sickbay?"
 "Whenever you want. Mr. Paris will be here if you require anything. Goodbye!" The Doctor left.
 Scully struggled to sit up, and didn't bother to argue when Mulder ended up helping her.
 "How do you feel?" he asked her.
 She looked up at him before reverting her gaze to her hands, which were still entertwined with his. "Pretty stupid," she admitted quietly, then paused. "How long was I out?"
 "Three hours. I would have stayed here but the Doc kicked me out."
 Scully smiled softly. Her curiousity piqued, she asked. "So what did you do?"
 "Heather showed me the science lab and the different equipment, then we met Harry at the holodeck and ran the Captain Proton holonovel. After that we played basketball with Tom and B'Elanna." he explained.
 "Captain Proton?" Scully asked incredulously.
 "Heather makes a great Constance Goodheart," smirked Mulder. Seeing the puzzled look on Scully's face, he quoted Tom. "A 'screaming blonde.'"
 Scully smiled. "Really?"
 Mulder nodded. "Yeah; turns out she takes up the role when Seven's not there. Normally she's Agent Rifka, a spy. Of course, she's still ticked off about her costume, but Harry and I managed to convince her to take up the part."
 Scully shook her head. "That sounds like Heather." She paused. "Can we go somewhere to eat? I'm starving."
 He grinned and picked her up. "You know, I could get used to carrying you," he teased.
 Scully only shot him a look.

***

 The next six days continued in much the same manor.  Scully slowly worked with Mulder, and Heather, B'Elanna, Tom, or Harry when they had time, at different exercises in the holodeck to try regain the ground she had lost.  She carefully expanded her energy, not wanting to make the same mistake again.  When she and Mulder weren't in working on building up her muscle strength, they were exploring the various facets of the holodeck.
 Scully was continually amazed by the variety of holodeck programs Voyager's crew had hunted down, discovered in the Federation's data banks, or invented during their free time.  She and Mulder had played out mysteries, space odysseys, children's books, sports events - they had gone to a New York Knicks game the night after Scully had been hospitalized - holidays from a
vast array of cultures, downhill skiing, beaches, everything.  She and Mulder spent a lot of their time in the holodeck, as Voyager's crew still had a schedule and posts to keep.  Whenever possible, they fit in a meal or conversation with friends, but for the most part they were left to their own devices.
 One thing Mulder had noticed was that the crew seemed very excited over the prospect of a party.  During a conversation with Commander Chakotay, Mulder had remarked on this observation and Chakotay had laughed, saying that they looked forward to any break from the monotone of their shifts, and a gala event such as the one being planned caused even more anticipation than usual.
 Mulder and Scully had entered the Mess Hall four days before to find Heather, Tom, and Harry pouring over PADDS and a computer, but they had quieted as soon as Mulder and Scully approached.  Heather had been polite, but had informed them that they were working on things for the party that were intended to be secret, at least for the time being.  So while Mulder
was looking forward to the event, he was as bewildered by it as anything else.  What was the point in keeping it a secret?
 On the seventh day, the day of the party, Mulder finally understood the reason for the secrecy: it built up the excitement.  The seventh day the crew was so wired for the party they seemed to talk of nothing else, at least in Mulder's hearing.  Finally, just after breakfast, Heather made an announcement.
 "Officially, the party tonight is to celebrate the way this crew banded together to overcome great odds and survive when the future was uncertain on Manyarra.  This is also a formal goodbye to Agents Mulder and Scully, for we do not know when Q will decide to return them to their own time.  The festivities start at 1800 hours in holodeck two.  Minimal crew will man their stations, and Commander Chakotay has devised a rotating schedule to allow everyone to attend for at least part of the time.  The setting is on Earth in the late 1930s - 1939, to be exact.  This time is around the beginning of Earth's second World War; this time there are no Hirogen.  The party will take place on the Queen Anne, a British luxury liner.  Everyone
is encouraged to dress for the period, and Neelix has a wonderful menu planned."  Heather could imagine the groans at that statement, but this time it was true.  All of the food was real - either replicated or made in Neelix's kitchen.  Tom had been in charge of checking Neelix's menu and
recipes, and he had actually been happily surprised at the non-leola root results from Neelix's culinary experimentation with Terran food of the period.  Heather steered her thoughts back to the announcement she was making: "We hope everyone will attend; it'll be a great time!  Whitney out."
 She tapped her comm badge a second time, severing the communication link.  Heather smiled suddenly and brightly.  Now came the fun part: helping everyone else choose their outfits and get ready.

***

 Scully wiped the sweat off her face with a towel.  She ran a hand through her tangled hair, pushing it back out of her face.
 "Ready to go have your bi-daily bath?" Mulder asked her.
 She nodded gratefully as he picked her up.  "Sorry in advance for the big sweat stain that's going to be on the front of your shirt," she said dryly, regarding her sweaty body that he was holding pressed up against his chest.
 He grinned.  "Thank God for replicators," he muttered.  "You're just getting me back for the times that you had to walk shoulder-to-shoulder with me after I'd played a tense game of basketball.  I must be a nightmare for your dry-cleaning bill."
 Scully made a noise of confirmation in the back of her throat.  "You're also the reason I considered starting a campaign for waterproof makeup."
 Mulder eyed her askance, but she offered no further explanation.  "Are you looking forward to tonight?" he asked her.  He had changed the subject completely and intentionally, knowing they had been on dangerous ground.  Well, at least dangerous for him because of the looming possibility of getting shot down.
 "It'll be nice to see people and have a chance to talk to them," Scully agreed.
 "Are you going to have fun?"  Mulder prodded.
 "Why would you ever think that I wouldn't?" Scully asked deadpan, peering up at him with an innocent expression on her face.
 *Oh no.  This is like those questions wives ask their husband: 'Does this make my butt look big?'  There's no right answer, but they expect one.*  "I didn't.  I wouldn't."  *Oh that was great.  Stun her with your sparkling comeback, Mulder.*
 "Sure.  Fine--"
 "Whatever."  Mulder paused for a beat.  "And you did speed that stop sign, which is a criminal charge under the law of the United States."
 "Mulder?"
 "Yes?"
 "Shut up."
 "De ja vu," he muttered.
 "And while we're on the topic of infringement of the law that we work to uphold, would you like me to start a list for you?  It might take awhile."
 "Point taken."
 "Really?  Usually it takes longer than that."  Scully softened her barbed words with a smile.  They had arrived back at Scully's quarters, so they turned to the task of getting Scully into the sonic shower.  Once she was situated, Mulder slipped out into her living quarters and strode over to her replicator. A little birdie had some work to do before his partner came out.
 Several minutes later, Mulder emerged from the bathroom carrying Scully, who was wrapped in towels.  Through the thick cream colored towel she had wrapped around her hair, he could smell her shampoo.  She must have used something special for tonight because the smell made his nose tingle.  Her skin radiated a glow of cleanliness, warmth, and Vanilla lotion.
 Mulder was rewarded by the expression her face as he carried her into the bedroom.  Across her bed was laid a red dress of silky material.  It was identifiable as from the 1930s, and had a v-neck and  straps the width of two fingers.
 It was also very familiar.
 Mulder knew that the setting of the party had been all Heather, and maybe some of Tom's idea, too, after she had had to convinced him initially.  It was the only explanation, and if they were going to give Mulder the setting of his bazaar Bermuda Triangle-induced encounter, it was only fair fro him to help recreate it.
 And besides, he had loved Scully's dress.
 It brought back fond memories.  Mulder smiled slightly evilly to himself.  Scully didn't know that, of course, and his fear was that she would react the same way as her alter-ego had, and he would be left with another sore jaw.
 He still had yet to puzzle out how they knew, but he had long since realized that Tom, and especially Heather, knew a lot more about Scully and he than was normal.  He knew that if he straight out asked them, they would probably find some way to dodge the question, and since Heather had blocked much of the information that would have been available to them via the
Federation's data banks, Mulder had not yet concocted away to get them to tell him the truth.  At this point, he wasn't sure if he wanted to know.
 Mulder set Scully down on the bed beside the dress.  "If you don't like it, you can replicate something el--"
 "I love it," Scully interrupted in a murmur.  She reached out a hand and rubbed the silky fabric between her fingers.  After a moment she turned to Mulder, her forehead crinkling slightly as she peered up at him.  "Well, are you going to leave so I can try it on or not?"
 He beat a hasty retreat to her living quarters, pausing only for a glance over his shoulder before the doors hissed shut behind him.  As soon as they closed, Scully let the towel fall from around her body and began tugging on the various underclothes Mulder had set on the bed for her.  As soon as she had succeeded in wiggling into the slip, she thrust her arms up into the
folds of the dress, hands searching for the arm holes until they found them, and then as soon as her arms were through she pulled the dress down over her head.  She buried her nose in the lush folds of the fabric for a moment, lettering herself indulge in the illusion that the dress smelled faintly of dust and old soap, something that was impossible with the perfection of the replicators.   *How does he do it?*  Scully wondered.  The dress fit perfectly, snug in all the right places, and yet she liked the loose feeling of freedom it gave.  Scully stretched her arms over her head in a futile attempt to do up the row of shiny pearl buttons that marched up the back of her dress.  After finally snagging two of the buttons into the buttonholes and groping around for more, she finally decided it was time to call in reinforcements.
 "Mulder?"
 A moment of silence passed, and then she heard his voice directly outside the door.  "Yes?"
 "I need some help in here. . . ."  Over that past several days, ever since the paralyzing agent had begun its work, using the word 'help' and become increasingly more easy to say.  Before it had been as poison on her lips; it admitted personal weakness, and begged for others to help make up for her short comings.  But through this experience with paralysis, Mulder had
helped her to understan that there was not shame in admitting that even she needed help sometimes.
 Mulder was at her side in a moment.  Gesturing with her head and a hand, she told him: ". . .with the buttons.  I can't quite reach them. . . ."
 She felt his rough fingers fumble with the buttons.  He grabbed the bottom button and forced it into the button hole.  His fingers were surprisingly agile, and at the same time gentle.  Scully was struck suddenly how right this felt, how natural for him to helping her with the part of the dress she couldn't reach.  It felt commonplace; like they were married.  The very thought made her chest squeeze up.
 Mulder slowly but expertly worked his way up the row of buttons.  As he slipped the last pearl into its buttonhole, his finger brushed against the base of Scully's neck, coincidentally where her implant had been.  The smile that tugged at the edge of her lips from the tickling sensation of his fingers dancing lightly across her neck made him smile at her affectionately.
 He knelt down before her and wrapped one hand around her foot.  He squeezed her foot slightly, and he felt her toes wriggle under his fingers.  He laughed softly.  His thumb stroked her foot, just above her big toe before he slipped her shoe on and buckled it.  Then he moved to the other foot and did the same.  He sat back, crouching on the balls of his feet, staring up at her expectantly.
 "Do you think the Doctor would have a fit if I tried the braces tonight?"  Scully said finally.
 Mulder chewed this over.  "No.  You've stayed off them for the past week.   I think it'll be fine."  He paused.  "You still won't be able to do the Lindy Hop."  Scully blinked at him until he relented and retrieved them for her without another word.

***

 Heather Whitney waited impatiently until the doors to Scully's quarters opened finally.  Mulder stood in the doorway, still dressed in civilian clothes; Heather's guess was that he hadn't even decided what to wear yet.
 "Hi."
 "Hello.  I was wondering if I might steal the ever-popular Agent Scully for a bit."
 "She's in the bedroom."
 Heather slipped past Mulder, and he followed her back into the bedroom. Scully was standing, albeit unsteadily next to the bed.  "You're using the braces?"  Heather exclaimed.  Scully nodded.  "That's great!  You can't even tell you're wearing them, what with the long dress."  Heather smiled inwardly.  She had been right about Mulder's choice of dress for Scully.  Now that he had done that, it was time for her and B'Elanna to take over for the finishing touches.
 "Would you like to come finish getting ready with B'Elanna and I?  I think that Captain may be stopping by before the party to say hello, too."
 "Sure."  Scully glanced at Mulder.  "I trust you on fashion decisions more than I do Mr. Macho Man here."  Her eyes danced with amusement.
 "Right, me and my disgusting ties," Mulder said, plastering as forlorn a look a as possible on his angular features.
 Heather snorted.  "You've got that right," she muttered.  Then, in a louder voice, she asked Mulder: "How does meeting outside holodeck two at 1805 sound?  We want to be fashionably late," she added with a wink.
 Mulder looked to Scully.  "Sounds fine."
 "Ready?" Heather asked her abductee.  At Scully's nod of agreement, Heather initiated the site-to-site transport, and a moment later the two women disappeared into a hazy blue cloud of light.

***

 Scully looked on from her seat in a comfortable chair pulled up close to Heather's coffee table, which was littered with make-up and hair accessories as Heather and B'Elanna finished getting ready.  B'Elanna wore a coffee colored, low v-neck dress with spaghetti straps.  The bodice fit tightly, and then flared out slightly at the hips.  The shirt was just noticeably plaited, and the silky material swirled around her ankles as she moved back and forth, putting the finishing touches on her makeup.  She had swept her hair back from her face with two clips, and Heather had curled the edges for her so that they framed her face.
 Heather was dressed in a stylish black dress with a modest, rounded neck.  The straps were high up on her shoulders, and wide, as far as straps went.  The skirt seemed to shimmer in the light as it swished around her legs; the silky material was covered by a second thin, filmy layer.  She had black gloves that reached to her elbows, and a necklace of minuscule diamonds,
elegant in its simplicity.  Her hair she had curled tightly so that it seemed to bounce behind her in a sea of curls and ringlets as she moved. Having finished applying her lipstick, she turned to Scully, a slow grin spreading across her face.   "Now it's your turn."

***

 When Heather and B'Elanna had finished with Scully, she looked stunning, and as though she had just stepped off the Queen Anne from Mulder's Bermuda Triangle adventure.  Heather had curled and pinned Scully's hair into tight curls, and B'Elanna had replicated a silky red shoulder-shawl for Scully.  The two women had primped Scully like mother hens, adjusting the shawl, changing the shade of eyeshadow several times, and debating over what earrings Scully should wear, which ended up tiny pearls to match the buttons on her dress.  Half way through their preparations, Captain Kathryn Janeway had indeed stopped by to say hello, but had ended up staying to help with the preparations.  It was she who had suggested that Scully exchange her period shoes for a pair of delicate red slippers that were more practical
and comfortable.
 Scully stood before the full-length mirror and surveyed herself.  Heather laughed excitedly, and B'Elanna was smiling.  "You look fabulous!"  Heather assured her.
 Suddenly, the doorchime rang.  "I wonder who that is," Heather said thoughtfully.  "Tom and Harry are meeting us at the party. . . "
 "As is Chakotay," Kathryn added, patting her carefully plaited hair.  She was still amazed that Heather had been able to get the plaits to stay in, since her hair was so short, but the lieutenant seemed to be able to work miracles with hair, even when it was as horrible as Kathryn's.
 When Heather answered the door, it was Seven of Nine.  She stared at the assembled women coolly.  "I was told you were gathering before attending the celebration.  I thought I might get your . . . input on my costume."
 Heather shepherded her inside, and they immediately set to work.  There wasn't much to be done, though; Seven had chosen well.  Her light blue dress flattered her figure and her eyes, and would fit in with the motif as well as any of the other women's.
 Before long, the five women were strolling down Voyager's corridors, talking amicably as they made their way to holodeck two.

***

 Seven of Nine smoothed her dress as she stood in the turbolift. She wore a light sky blue silk ball gown that went in at the waist and then flared out, ending a few inches above the floor where it fell to her ankles. She wore two inch light blue shoes, and wore a string of pearls around her neck in a choker-like style. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a French twist on the top of her head with a pearl barrette, and Heather had pulled out a few tendrils and curled them so they framed her face, falling down to her chin. Whitney was most efficient.
 Next to her, B’Elanna fiddled with her silver necklace, impatient. She made a mental note to update the turbolifts so they were quicker. She had to admit that she was excited at the prospect of the party. The past week or so had been so busy that she hadn’t had much time to spend alone with Tom, and she was hoping that the two of them could do just that during the party. She missed spending time with him. But the past week or so had been fun. She only wished that Mulder and Scully could stay longer on Voyager, but she had to agree with everyone else that Q would probably take them back to the 20th century soon. She only hoped that Q would postpone their trip back in time until after the party was over, or at least for one more day. She glanced over at the captain.
 Kathryn wore a slim-fitting V-necked white dress that fell down to the ground with white high-heeled sandals and a gold necklace. She had on gloves like Heather’s, only hers were white instead of black.
 Meanwhile, Scully fiddled with her shawl. She was anything but calm. Other than the shawl, Heather and B’Elanna had also replicated a ruby-sequined necklace for her to wear. She still wore her gold cross, but it was partially concealed by the necklace. The tiny rubies made a dangling pattern in the shape of a ‘V’. She wore a gold bracelet on her right wrist with the inscription DKS on the outside. *I hope this night goes well,* she thought. She hated to admit it, but she was nervous. Not because of the party and the fact that she and Mulder might be sent back to the 20th century tonight, but because of how close she and Mulder were getting. Over the past week or so, she had relied and put her trust in him so much, and they were closer than they probably ever had been in their relationship over the past six years.
 “Gosh, why do these turbolifts have to be so *slow*?” Heather queried, voicing B’Elanna’s previous thoughts. Everyone else smiled nervously, and B’Elanna grinned. “I was just thinking the same thing,” she replied.
 Heather nodded, and grinned when the turbolift doors opened. “Everybody ready?” she asked.
 B’Elanna shot her a mock-angry look. “What do you think?”
 Heather only laughed.

***

 Mulder, wearing a black tux and pants, a white button-up shirt, and black bow tie, walked down the corridor and stopped in front of the holodeck. He had been to Holodeck II countless times over the past week or so, but he had always been with Scully. The doors opened, and he stepped into the room. He nearly fainted.
 He was standing in an arched chestnut wooden doorway. Before him was a large room that was about the same size as he remembered it, if not a little bit larger to accommodate Voyager’s entire crew. It had a 1930s style patterned rug with a checkered chestnut wood dance floor in the center of the room. The dance floor was positioned right in front of a stage with light pink-colored drapes on either side. On the stage, a band was set up, and a lively instrumental piece was being played by the numerous musicians. Four large round chestnut wood pillars were in the room, with red, blue, and white crepe paper streamers and balloon streamers running from them to the center of the ceiling, where they connected after twisting around the room. At the base of the pillars were potted palm plants. Tables that seated two, four, six, or eight were set up on the carpet, with elegant glass lamps giving off light from the centers of each one. On the walls were large fancy light fixtures that gave off just enough light to illuminate the room with a soft glow. On one side of the room, there was a long buffet-styled table with two double doors behind, presumably leading to the kitchen.
 As Mulder glanced around the room, a tide of memories came back. His thoughts were interrupted, though, when someone shouted his name.
 “Mulder!”
 Mulder turned to see Paris and Kim, dressed similarly as he was, walk over to him from the lobby area where Neelix was busy talking to several officers. When he met Tom’s gaze, Mulder immediately realized that Tom knew he was walking on broken glass. He decided to let Tom bring it up first. The last thing he wanted to do was to ruin the evening. “Tom! Harry!” he greeted with a quick smile. “Did the two of you help design this? It’s magnificent,” he said, gesturing around him. The holodeck program really was a work of art.
 Tom and Harry looked a glance, then Tom cleared his throat. “Mulder, we really hope you don’t mind us using the SS Queen Anne as the setting for the party, but we couldn’t come up with anything else and once Heather convinced me to use this as the setting, everything fell into place. I mean, it really is an awesome place for a party, and it seemed only fitting,” he explained carefully, hoping Mulder wouldn’t be offended by them recreating the Queen Anne based on his little excursion out to the Bermuda Triangle.
 The looks on both men’s faces were priceless, and Mulder waited a moment before smiling. “I don’t mind at all. This *is* amazing.” He paused. “You said Heather thought of this?”
 “From what I understand, she always was a sucker for-” Harry stopped when he realized what he had almost said. ‘From what I understand, she always was a sucker for the episode Triangle and the hospital scene afterwards.’ *Definitely ^not^ a good thing to bring up.* “Yes, she did.”
 Tom smirked at Harry. “Heather’s always been a big fan of the 1930s,” he tried to explain. Mulder was about to persist on the topic, so he quickly changed it. “Where’s Scully?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer. Heather and B’Elanna had quickly filled him and Harry in earlier when they all agreed to meet at the holodeck for the party.
 “Heather stopped by and stole her away. She said something about putting the finishing touches on Scully’s appearance and outfit, and they both implied that I didn’t have the best fashion taste,” Mulder commented with a smile.
 Tom nodded. “That sounds like something Heather would do.”
 “Why don’t we go find our table? I stole a look at the seating chart earlier when I first arrived, and we’re all sitting together. Neelix has name cards at all the set places,” Harry suggested.
 “Actually-” Tom was about to add that Neelix had a roster on which table was whose, when something, or rather someone, caught his eye. There stood B’Elanna Torres, along with Janeway, Whitney, Seven of Nine, Scully, and Chakotay, standing just inside the doorway to the large dining room, wearing an extraordinary coffee ball gown. She was stunningly beautiful, and her skin seemed to glow in the soft light.
 Mulder followed the pilot’s gaze, wondering why Tom had stopped talking.
 Then he saw her.
 She was wearing the dress he had replicated for her to wear, as well as a red silk shawl and a red ruby necklace. To top it off, her golden-red hair was swept up in tight curls. She was also drop dead gorgeous. *Oh, my God,* he thought, his hazel eyes widening at the sight of Scully. All of a sudden he found it extremely hard not to think “partnerly” thoughts.
 Across the room, Scully glanced around. The room was very familiar, only now it wasn’t 39 years after it had last been used. She searched for Mulder, and finally spotted him with Tom and Harry. Her blue eyes widened slightly as she took in his appearance. Handsome was too plain an adjective to use to describe him. His dark hair was still slightly unruly, but it only accented the black tux, bow tie pants, and white button-down shirt he was wearing underneath the tux. She watched as he slowly turned around and spotted her. Then he slowly walked over to her and took her hand. Bowing slightly, he brought her right hand to his lips and let them brush against it. Then he straightened and looked into her eyes searchingly. She met his gaze, and a shiver went down her spine.
 “Scully, you look magnificent,” he breathed, touching her cheek gently before pulling away.
 She managed a soft smile. “So do you,” she said quietly, only fully aware of the bright red blush forming on her face.
 Meanwhile, Harry had walked over to the rest of the group, and his gaze fell on Heather. She wore a stunning black dress that complimented her slim figure. “You look lovely,” he told her as he walked over to her.
 Heather grinned at him, not about to be caught speechless. “So do you,” she said simply, then lowered her voice. “Does Mulder mind about the program?” she asked worriedly.
 Harry shook his head. “He didn’t mind. Of course, we told him you were the one who thought of the idea in the first place, so he might have it out with you later,” he teased.
 “What?” she asked, incredulous.
 “I’m only joking,” he assured her. “Somewhat.”
 Heather shot him a dirty look, then rolled her eyes and smiled. “Why don’t we all go find our table? Dinner should be served soon, and from what I saw of the menu, it looks delicious,” she suggested.
 “A most relevant plan,” Seven commented.
 Tom and B’Elanna walked over to them, hand in hand. “I just checked with Neelix,” Tom said. “The seven of us are sitting at a table next to the captain, commander, Tuvok, and the Doctor.”
 Mulder turned to Scully and offered her his arm. Smiling, she took his hand and let him lead her over to the table.

***

 “So, when do you think Q will send us back?” Mulder asked fifteen minutes later. Scully sat to his right, and Seven to his left.
 Tom frowned. “I’m not sure. If we had been betting, I already would have lost. I thought he would have sent the two of you back to your own time before now.”
 B’Elanna shrugged, a bemused smile on her face. “Who knows? Q’s way too predictable to even *begin* to guess at.” She paused, the smiled sadly. “Let’s not talk about it anymore, okay? I really enjoy having the two of you here, and thinking about the two of you leaving isn’t going to help tonight.”
 Scully grinned at her. “Thanks, B’Elanna,” she said.
 Torres laughed. “No problem. I only wish the two of you could stay here longer, except I know the two of you probably miss your lives back on earth.”
 Mulder almost managed not to laugh. Almost. “It *has* been fun while it’s lasted,” he agreed. “But you’re right. I do kind of miss my old life back home. Not that I *have* one.”
 Scully nodded. “I’m not going to argue with you on *that*, Mulder,” she quipped.
 Everyone laughed. Only Mulder didn’t. Instead, he sent her a mock angry look. “And what about *your* life, Scully?” he teased.
 “At least *I’m* not the one who chases UFOs, believes in extreme possibilities, watches videos that aren’t mine, and thinks the entire government is part of a global conspiracy to cover up traces of extra terrestrials from the public,” she teased back, resting her chin on her hands and cocking her head slightly as she looked over at him.
 Mulder smiled at her, but didn’t comment. Instead he just looked at her. She had a beautiful smile. He only wished she would smile more often.
 “So, Scully, when you get back and you’re asked if you believe in extra terrestrials, what are you going to say?” Heather teased.
 Scully shot the telepath a dirty look, but had to admit she was at a loss of words. “I don’t know,” she admitted quietly. “I mean, you all don’t exactly fall under the category ‘extra terrestrials’, but you do come close.”
 Mulder reached for her hands and squeezed one. “If only AD Skinner could see us now,” he joked.
 Tom laughed. “That *would* be a riot, although I’m not sure if the assistant director would agree with us.”
 “Are the two of you going to work on the X files after this?” Harry asked.
 Mulder bit his lip. “There are still a lot of things that are unexplained,” he said, glancing over at Scully, who nodded slowly. “Justice still needs to be served.” She spoke quietly, but it was loud enough for everyone at the table to hear her.
 “’There is no justice,’” quoted Heather.
 Scully shook her head at the reminder of her words standing in front of Melissa’s grave. “There might not be, but we can still try to bring wrongs to amends. That’s one of the reasons why we need to get back,” she added, looking over at Mulder.
 Mulder pulled a face. “But Scully! It’d be fun to stay here.”
 “’All good things must come to an end,’” Tom quipped, his tone slightly wistful.
 Heather smiled sadly. “Yeah,” she echoed.
 “Agents Mulder and Scully, while I have studied your biographical sketches and heard your countless dictation of different cases the two of you have worked on, Agent Scully, I am still puzzled as to how the two of you became partners on the X files. Could you please explain?” asked Seven of Nine before taking a sip of her water.
 “Well...” Mulder’s voice trailed off as he met Scully’s gaze. She grinned. This was going to be a *long* story.

***

 Neelix walked over to their table just as they were finishing up with their salads. “The photographer’s all set,” he told them, looking directly at Whitney.
 Heather smiled. “Wonderful. Thanks, Neelix, I’ll owe you one,” she said, then explained to everyone else. “Since everyone’s dressed up and Scully and Mulder are here, I thought it would be fun to have some pictures taken of us all before they leave.”
 “Sounds like a plan,” Mulder said, standing up with everyone else from both tables and helping Scully to her feet. Surprisingly, she didn’t pull away after she was standing, and instead let him guide her over to the far corner of the room, where cameras were set up with a white backdrop. A short stout man, wearing an Oxford blouse, a bow tie, and khakis, looked up from fiddling with a camera. “Ah! Who’s first?” he queried cheerfully, standing up.
 Harry glanced at everyone. “Who wants to go first?”
 “Why don’t we get a picture of everyone?” Janeway suggested.
 It took a good five minutes to get everyone -- Kathryn, Chakotay, Tuvok, B’Elanna, Tom, Harry, Heather, Seven, the Doctor, Neelix, Scully, and Mulder -- into position, and by this time no one needed to be told to smile. They were already cracking up.
 “Gosh, this is practically a compromising position,” breathed B’Elanna to Tom, who had his arms wrapped around her waist and had her drawn close to his chest.
 Tom looked down at her. “I kind of like this position,” he told her.
 Next to them, Heather cracked up.
 “I don’t see you doing any better,” teased Tom.
 It was true. Somehow during the process of getting into position, Heather had managed to get an arm draped around Harry’s shoulder and had let her head rest on his shoulder. Harry didn’t seem to mind -- in fact, his arm circled her waist.
 Harry shot the two a dirty look.
 This only cracked Mulder, Scully, the Doctor, and Janeway up.
 “Hey! I’m not the one whose in Chakotay’s arms!!!” Heather protested, looking meaningfully over at the captain and commander.
 “I could get you court marshaled for that comment, Lieutenant,” warned Janeway, smirking at the science officer.
 “That would be most logical,” Tuvok stated, standing calmly to one side near Seven.
 Mulder shook his head and whispered to Scully. “If I were a junior officer, I would be *scared* of my superiors!”
 “I heard that, Agent Mulder,” the Doctor retorted.
 Scully had trouble stifling her giggles.
 “You think this is funny, Scully?” Mulder teased, leaning over so his face was inches from hers. They had been ordered to stand on the right, with him holding her basically in his lap as he leaned against the white backdrop.
 Scully met his gaze, and her heartbeat tripled as all six of her senses went into overload. Thankfully, Mulder pulled back.
 “Smile!” called the photographer.
 After the group photo, many others were taken. The pictures consisted of Janeway and Chakotay, Tom and B’Elanna, Harry and Heather, then the latter four together, as well as a few with Seven, and with Mulder and Scully. Heather suggested a picture of all the women, and then Mulder, Harry, and Tom posed together.
 “Would you mind terribly if you posed together for a few more pictures?” Whitney asked Mulder and Scully when the photographer finished taking pictures of everyone else.
 Mulder looked over at Scully, who shrugged. “Fine by me,” she replied with a slight smile. Mulder nodded in agreeance.
 For the next ten minutes, Heather, with the help of Tom, B’Elanna, and Harry, assumed the role of telling the two agents what positions to be in. They stood side by side, front to front, back to back, next to each other, looking at the camera, looking at each other, looking professional, and fooling around. It took a little coaxing, but Mulder and Scully finally agreed to him sitting on a chair with her having her arms wrapped around his shoulders and leaning her head on his shoulder and having both of them looking at the camera, and then at each other.
 “Now, Scully, sit in Mulder’s lap,” Whitney ordered with a wicked grin.
 Scully shook her head, immediately stepping away from Mulder. “No,” she replied, almost automatic. If she got any more closer to Mulder, she was afraid she was going to seriously lose it around him.
 To her surprise, Mulder turned around and shot her an innocent look. “Why not, Scully? C’mon, it’ll be fun. I promise to behave,” he added in a leering tone.
 Scully glanced over at Whitney and Kim (Paris and Torres had volunteered to go find out when the buffet-style dinner was going to be ready to be served; they had left five minutes ago, and Scully had yet to see them again. She had a feeling that they had only used that as an excuse to spend some private time with one another), then back at Mulder, who looked up at her with an unreadable expression on his face. *If you let Mulder wrap his arms around you, you’re going to lose it,* a nagging voice inside her head piped, but she pushed that thought to the back of her mind and reminded herself she was supposed to be having fun. *Of course you’d have fun being in his arms.* *Shut up!* she argued with herself.
 Taking a deep breath, she went over to Mulder and sat down in his lap, extremely self-conscious. She nearly jumped when Mulder wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close so that their bodies were literally pressing against one another. “Shh, Scully,” he soothed into her ear. “Relax.” He paused. Scully then slowly let herself be pulled further into the embrace. He smiled and wistfully wished he could hold her more often, and made a mental note to thank Heather later on. “Enjoying yourself, Scully?” he teased, trying to make light of the situation that they were basically in each other’s arms.
 To his surprise, Scully turned her head slightly so she could meet his gaze. She had an odd look in her eyes as she smiled softly and replied, “Actually, I am.”
 For once, Fox Mulder was speechless.

***

 “So then we had the Doctor appear in the program as the President of Earth, because the aliens were convinced that Captain Proton -- as well as the rest of the program -- was real and wouldn’t believe ^us^ because we weren’t ‘real’ to them,” Tom explained twenty minutes later, when he, B’Elanna, Harry, Heather, Seven, Mulder, Scully, Tuvok, and the Doctor were all back at the two tables eating dinner.
 Janeway and Chakotay had both left the party for an hour or so to relieve several officers for the night after the photos, promising to come back soon. Tom had a feeling rumors about the captain and commander would be spreading like wildfire in the gossip mills the next day, although he himself didn’t think much of it. He knew they would make a good couple, but that they were only ‘friends.’
 “So, B’Elanna, do you have a role in the Captain Proton simulation?” Scully asked after the laughter had died down.
 To her surprise, the chief engineer shook her head. “No. I’m not really into the program like they-” She gestured to Tom and Harry. “Are. Although I do like the Sherlock Holmes mystery we ran once.” She looked straight at Tom as she said this, a secretive smile on her lips. Tom gave her a smile back.
 Heather rolled her eyes at the two, and was about to speak when Harry beat her to it. “No, B’Elanna doesn’t really like Captain Proton, but Heather *loves* it, doncha, Heather?”
 The Betazoid turned to glare at Harry. “Very funny,” she growled.
 “Why, what happened?” Mulder asked, curious. He had a feeling there was a very funny story behind it, considering that if looks could kill, the Ops officer would be dead due to Whitney’s glare.
 “Nothing,” Whitney said quickly.
 Paris, however, only smirked. “It’s a long story.”
 “Ooh, do tell.” Mulder said with an evil smile, glancing over in Heather’s direction.
 Heather only raised her eyes to the ceiling.
 “Since Seven was on duty and she plays the part of Constance Goodheart, I asked Heather if she would mind participating as my secretary. She said, and I quote, ‘I’d love to.’” Tom glanced meaningfully over at Heather.
 Whitney glared. “What Tom forgot to mention, is that my costume consisted of very *tight* pants, and a very revealing halter top,” she growled.
 At this, the guys cracked up. Heather nearly glared helplessly at Tom. Unfortunately, both B’Elanna and Scully joined in laughing.
 “There was this one time everyone at the Bureau started playing this game...” Scully glanced over at Mulder as she said this, and a slow smile spread across his face as he listened to Scully continue to explain the absurd plan they had thought up to convince everyone else that they were having an affair without implying it. He watched her as she recounted the different events that had led up to their little charade, and the climax of it all. *She’s so perfect,* he thought as he watched her. He loved her so much.

***

 Tom took a bite of the shrimp. Everyone was pretty much finished eating, and the band was supposed to start playing at 8:30 pm. Glancing at the mahogany wood clock he realized with a start that it was already 8:27 pm. Listening to Heather recount an away mission that turned into a disaster a few years ago, he grinned as everyone laughed. “Hey, I was *pushed* into that mudpit,” he announced.
 “Sure you were,” teased B’Elanna, before taking a sip of her champagne. She smiled over at Tom, her face radiant in the soft light. he smiled back, and resolved to show her around the Queen Anne later on, just the two of them.
 Scully watched the unspoken exchange and shook her head slightly. The two were in love, and it showed.
 *Just like you and Mulder,* a soft voice commented. Scully glanced around with a start before she realized Heather was speaking telepathically to her.
 *Sorry, but your thought was too strong for me to even try to ignore. You and Mulder both!* the empath continued.
 *But we’re not-* Scully stopped, bewildered, not even sure if Whitney could understand her or not.
 Heather smiled knowingly over at her. *Sure,* she said telepathically.
 Try as hard as she could, Scully couldn’t detect any sign of sarcasm in Heather’s tone. Then she took a sip of her margarita and tried to revert her attention back to the conversation, which consisted of different accounts of disastrous missions. As she glanced around the table, her gaze fell on Mulder. He caught her eye and flashed her a smile before turning his attention back to Kim, and she gazed down at her hands, slightly flustered. *How true was Heather’s comment?* she asked herself.
 She knew.
 She had known for years.
 She loved him.

***
 “Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen.”
 Harry stopped talking, as did everyone else in the room, and looked up. An older man, probably in his late 40s, stood at the microphone. The light pink drapes were closed, covering the entire stage. The band members were at their positions, ready. As he quickly glanced around before turning his full attention to the speaker, his gaze rested on the empty seat to his left. Heather had mysteriously excused herself, saying she’d “be right back.” However, five minutes later, she wasn’t. Shrugging, he turned back to the speaker.
 “The music tonight will be brought to you by the Queen Anne’s very own band, the Billiars, as well as a wide variety of musicians from various centuries. To start the night off, I’d like to introduce one of the most fabulous singers of her time...Miss Heather Whitney!”
 “Oh, my gosh,” he breathed, his eyes widening slightly as the drapes parted, revealing the  band all ready to play. But the most surprising thing of all was Heather Whitney, standing on center stage in the spotlight. Literally.
 Tom’s jaw dropped, then he smiled widely and shook his head. “She is incorrigible,” he whispered to B’Elanna.
 Torres smirked. “Quick. Somebody get the video camera!”
 “That has already been figured out, Lieutenant,” Seven told the engineer.
 “Hush,” Scully hissed.
 “Does she have a good voice?” asked Mulder at the same time, but he stopped talking as soon as Scully turned and gave him a look.
 Tom nodded, silently mouthing ‘Yes.’
 At Heather’s nod, the music began to play, and Mulder immediately recognized the melody. Whitney was singing, “Jeepers, creepers, where’d you get those peepers...”
 *I don’t believe this,* he thought, dumbstruck. Crewmembers were already heading for the dance floor in twos, and B’Elanna and Tom were already halfway there. Harry turned to Seven, who politely accepted.
 Mulder stood up. “May I have this dance?” he asked quietly. The music wasn’t too slow for them to be uncomfortable dancing together, but it wasn’t too fast for Scully to keep up with.
 Scully slowly smiled, then stood up and took Mulder’s outstretched hand. Pushing in her chair, she proceeded to let him guide her across the room and towards the dance floor. Once they were there, Mulder carefully wrapped his arms around her and they began do dance.
 Mulder glanced down at Scully, who shot him a slightly puzzled look. “What is it?” she asked quietly.
 He shook his head. “It’s nothing. Really,” he added. The truth was this was all hitting a little too close to home. First Scully’s dress, then the Queen Anne setting and Scully’s outfit, and now the exact same song when Mulder had first seen ‘Scully’ in the dining room. He only hoped his evening with Scully wouldn’t end the same way. Although he doubted it. She had made it obvious plenty of times in the past that they were just friends, and that their relationship was purely platonic. He wondered if she had to keep on telling herself that over and over again like he did, trying to believe it. It didn’t.
 When the music stopped, everyone burst into applause. Heather only laughed and bowed. “Thank you,” she said with a wide smile, waving to everyone. Then she walked off the stage.
 Mulder and Scully walked over to the half Betazoid, who was now with Paris, Torres, Kim, and Seven.
 “You were incredible,” Tom said, giving her a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. “Just like you were at the Sady Hawkins’ Dance.”
 Heather laughed, and was about to comment when another song began to play. She grabbed Harry and led him out to the dance floor before he could protest. As the two danced, Harry told her, “You did an excellent job up there. Since when can you sing?”
 She merely grinned. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know,” she said softly.
 He paused, wondering if he should say it. “I’d like to find out,” he finally said softly. He hoped desperately that Heather wouldn’t want to be ‘just friends.’
 Her face was inches from his, and her blue eyes sparkled. “I’d like that,” she admitted slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. A soft smile formed on her lips as she looked at him, sensing the relief wash through him. “Ditto,” she added. He didn’t have to ask what she meant; he knew. She leaned her forehead against his and the two of them danced in each other’s arms, listening to the music.

Oh
  I feel like I've been locked up tight
  for a century of lonely nights
  Waiting for someone
  To release me
  You're licking your lips and blowing kisses my way
  But that don't mean I'm gonna give it away
  Baby baby baby (baby baby baby)

  Oh whoa
  My body's saying lets go
  Oh whoa
  But my heart is saying no

  If you wanna be with me
  Baby there's a price to pay
  I'm a genie in a bottle
  You gotta rub me the right way
  If you wanna be with me
  I can make your wish come true
  You gotta make a big impression
  Gotta like what you do

  I'm a genie in a bottle baby
  Gotta rub me the right way honey
  I'm a genie in a bottle baby
  Come come come on and let me out

  Music's playing and the light down low
  Just one more dance and then we're good to go
  Waiting for someone
  Who needs me
  Hormones racing at the speed of light
  But that don't mean its gotta be tonight
  Baby baby baby (baby baby baby)

  Oh whoa
  My body's saying lets go
  Oh whoa
  But my heart is saying no

  If you wanna be with me
  Baby there's a price to pay
  I'm a genie in a bottle (I'm a genie in a bottle)
  You gotta rub me the right way
  If you wanna be with me I can make your wish come true
  Just come and set me free baby
  I'll be with you

  I'm a genie in a bottle baby
  Gotta rub me the right way honey
  I'm a genie in a bottle baby
  Come come come on and let me out

***

 The music changed, and Heather and Harry walked back over to the table. They were about to sit down when Mulder and Scully came over. “Would you do me the honor of dancing with you?” Mulder said with a low bow. When he looked up he smirked at Heather, who shook her head with a grin.
 “If that’s all right with everyone else,” she replied mildly. Seeing Scully shoot her an exasperated look, she stood up and followed Mulder out to the dance floor.
 Mulder took her hand in his and held her securely around the waist as the music began and the two began to dance.

I'll be there for you
When the rain starts to pour
I'll be there for you
Like I've been there before
I'll be there for you
'Cause you're there for me too

You're still in bed at ten and work began at eight
You've burned your breakfast so far, things are going great
Your mother warned you there'd be days like these
But she didn't tell when the world has brought you down to your knees

I'll be there for you
When the rain starts to pour
I'll be there for you
Like I've been there before
I'll be there for you
'Cause you're there for me too

 “I am going to kill you,” he whispered to her, giving her a slightly amused look as they danced.
 Whitney looked up at him, her blue eyes wide. “Should I say sorry?” she asked.
 He gave her a look.
 “Sorry,” she said quickly, then closed her eyes and shook her head at herself. “I really am, though, Mulder. I didn’t think you would mind. I know I should have asked you first, but it seemed perfect and everyone thought it was an awesome idea.”
 “Give me three questions?”
 “What?” Heather asked, confused. When she realized what he meant, she nodded slowly. “Shoot.”
 “I don’t mind you recreating my little excursion to the Bermuda Triangle, Heather. I just want to know if Scully knows what you know,” replied Mulder seriously.
 Her brow furrowed. “What?” Comprehension dawned on her. “No, she doesn’t. Unless you told her. I’ve just kept my mouth shut around her.”
 “Which brings me to my next question. How *do* you know about my ‘dream’?” continued Mulder.
 She closed her eyes momentarily. When she opened them, they were void of any emotion. “I can’t tell you that,” she said.
 “How much do *you* know?”
 Heather paused, contemplating the question. Deciding that it wouldn’t hurt the timeline and it wouldn’t necessarily be going against the Prime Directive, she took a deep breath and began. “I know that the American officers brought you aboard, took you to their captain and after they left that was when you realized you weren’t in 1998, you were in 1939. Then a Nazi Spender-look-alike came in...”
 When she finished telling him her recount of his ‘dream’ -- leaving out the part when he kissed Scully -- he blinked once, then a slow smile spread across his face. “You little...” he muttered softly.
 Heather’s eyes sparkled and she only laughed. “You have *no* idea.”

***

 The evening passed quickly. Mulder mostly danced with Scully, Heather, B’Elanna, and Seven, but he did dance with a few junior officers when they came over and asked him. After finishing dancing with Caitlin Wright, the two headed back over to his group’s table, and Mulder was surprised to find Scully sitting there, her chin resting in her hands while she watched the dance floor, with Jane Marlett, who flashed him a quick smile. “Hey, Mulder! Caity,” she added. “Greg’s looking for you. He said something about wanting to dance with you, and I told him that you’d love to.”
 Wright shot Marlett a look. “I don’t believe you,” she murmured to her friend, then smiled. “I’d better go find him.” She turned to Mulder and Scully and hugged them both quickly. “It was really nice meeting you. I hope you both have wonderful lives when you get back home. So long!” she said, then walked off.
 “Same goes for me,” added Jane, mimicking Caity’s actions and hugging the two agents. “I had lots of fun with you two. You really should write a book about all those stories, Scully. Bye!” she added, then followed Caity and disappeared into the crowds.
 “You all right?” he asked, pulling up a chair next to her.
 Scully gave him a tired smile. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied automatically.
 Another song began playing, and Mulder turned to her and asked, “Wanna dance?”
 She automatically shook her head. “No, thanks.”
 “Scully, what’s wrong?” When she didn’t reply he took her hand and squeezed it. When she looked up again, he realized that she must be exhausted. “I’m only tired, Mulder,” she assured him. “Really.”
 Mulder didn’t believe her, but he didn’t want to push it. “What did Jane mean when she told you that you should write a book?”
 Scully rolled her eyes. “Let’s not go there,” she said with a smile.
 The two sat in companionable silence, and then a slow song began to play. “Would you care to dance, Miss Scully?” At Scully’s hesitant look, he added softly. “If you get too tired we can stop.”
 Scully gave him a long, searching look, then she gave him a faint smile and stood up. She let him slowly walk her over to the dance floor, her thoughts whirling. The truth was she *was* getting tired; if it hadn’t been for the braces she would have long since excused herself and gone back to her quarters to rest. But the Doctor had come over to check up on her twice during the evening, and he had assured her that if she continued to dance she wouldn’t over-exert herself.
 As Mulder wrapped his arms around her, she felt a shiver go down her spine and closed her eyes, trying to put her emotions in check. That didn’t work, so she finally gave up. “Is it just me, or does everyone else seem to sense that we’re not going to be aboard Voyager this time tomorrow?” she queried.
 “It’s not just you. I was talking to Harry and B’Elanna, and they both admitted they had a feeling that we’d be leaving tonight.” Mulder told her.
 She sighed, and listened to the lyrics.

You’re the bravest of hearts
You’re the strongest of souls
You’re my light in the dark
You’re the place I call home
You can say it’s all right
But I know that you’re breaking up inside
I can see it in your eyes
Even you face the night
Afraid and alone
That’s why I’ll be there

When the storm rises up
When the shadows descend
Every beat of my heart
Every day without end
Every second I live
That’s a promise I make
Baby, that’s what I’ll give if that’s what it takes
If that’s what it takes

You can sleep in my arms
You don’t have to explain
When your heart’s crying out
Baby, whisper my name
Cuz I’ve reached out for you
And the thunder is crashing up above
You’ve given me your love
And you smile like the sun
That shine through the pain
That’s why I’ll be there
 

 “I know this sounds silly, but a part of me would like to stay here,” she said softly.
 “It’s not silly; I feel the exact same way.” Mulder replied. He looked down at her, and was surprised to find her looking up at him with an unreadable expression on her face. On impulse, he leaned down and let his lips brush against her forehead. She didn’t pull away, so he let his lips linger there. He pulled back and was about to ask her if she wanted to step out for some fresh air when her grip on him tightened. “Scully?”
 “My legs,” she murmured.
 Without a thought, Mulder tightened his grip around her and lifted her up so that her feet were barely touching the floor. She put her arms around his neck, but a worried expression was evident on her face. “Mulder, I’m too heavy.”
 “No, you’re not,” he shot back. She really wasn’t.
 Scully didn’t argue. Instead, she leaned her head against his shoulder and gazed around the room. She spotted Tom and B’Elanna dancing closely together, as well as Heather and Harry. Seven was dancing with the Doctor, and the two were busy talking. On the outskirts of the dance floor, she glimpsed the captain and commander dancing together, probably just a bit too close. She grinned.

When the storm rises up
When the shadows descend
Every beat of my heart
Every day without end
I will stand like a rock
I will bend till I break
Till there’s no more to give
If that’s what it takes
I will risk everything
I will fight, I will bleed
I will lay down my life
If that’s what you need
Every second I live
That’s the promise I make
Baby that’s what I’ll give
If that’s what it takes

Through the wind and the rain
Through the smoke and the fire
When the fear rises up
When the waves are ever higher
I will lay down my heart, my body, my soul
I will hold on all night
And never let go
Every second I live
That’s the promise I make
Baby that’s what I’ll give if that’s what it takes
If that’s what it takes
Whatever it takes

 Out on the other side of the dance floor, B’Elanna laid her head against Tom’s chest. Even with her heels, she was still a few good inches shorter than him. “Hmmmm, this is nice,” she murmured as they swayed to the slow music. For the moment, it seemed as if she and Tom were the only two people in the room.
 Tom tightened his grip around her slim waist even more. “Have I told you how gorgeous you look tonight?” he asked. She looked up at him, her dark brown eyes meeting his cerulean ones. “I don’t believe you have,” she said, a sly smile creeping across her face. He raised his eyebrows, his eyes sparkling at her tone. “Can I ever make it up to you?” he asked mischievously.
 Her smile grew. “Oh, I don’t know. I think I could come up with a few ideas,” she breathed huskily, smiling slyly.
 He smiled and kissed her briefly on the lips before taking her hands and starting to walk over to the main entrance. “Come on,” he beckoned.
 Slightly puzzled, B’Elanna followed, smiling softly.

***

 “And this is the main bridge,” Tom said, leading B’Elanna into the room.
 B’Elanna ran her hands over the large golden wheel that steered the ship. “Not exactly modern helm control,” she commented with a soft smile.
 He grinned, then took her hands. “I want to show you something else,” he told her, and led her out onto the bow of the ship. She followed gamely.
 Outside on the deck, he pointed to the sky. “Look,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her.
 She leaned into his embrace and looked up. Her eyes widened with pleasant surprise. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. The sky was clear and filled with stars. To the north, a full moon shone in the darkness.
 They stood like that for a moment, then Tom gently turned her around and pressed his forehead against hers. “So’re you.”
 B’Elanna smiled widely as her lips met his. As the kiss grew more passionate, she let out a giggle. “Tom, anyone could come out here and see us,” she whispered.
 “So?”
 B’Elanna only replied by continuing to kiss him.

***

 “Where is everyone?” Heather asked.
 Harry didn’t have an answer.
 During the past two songs, the couple had practically searched the entire dining room, as well as the adjoining corridors, for Tom and B’Elanna, and Mulder and Scully. They hadn’t found either couple. “Where the heck could they be?” Heather wondered out loud.
 “Maybe they just went off to have some time on their own,” he suggested, giving her a knowing look.
 Her eyes widened slightly, then she smiled. “Hmm, maybe you’re right. Should we go find them?”
 “How come I have a feeling that they don’t want to be interrupted,” he teased.
 “I know Tom and B’Elanna, but Mulder and Scully...” Her voice trailed off and she smiled slightly.
 “Who knows?” He paused. “Do you ever feel like you’re missing out on something in situations like these?”
 She laughed. “Yes, I do. Want to dance?”
 He was only too happy to comply.

***

 “It’s gorgeous out here,” Scully commented as she leaned up against the deck railing, looking out at the ocean.
 Mulder stood next to her. “It is, isn’t it?” he agreed. “Scully?”
 “Hmm?” Scully was lost in thought. Her thoughts where in a turmoil. She so wanted to open up to Mulder and tell him she loved him, but if she did and he didn’t feel the same way-- She stopped that train of thought and closed her eyes, as if in pain.
 “You really do look drop dead beautiful,” he murmured, reaching for her hands and squeezing them.
 Scully tilted her head to look up at him. Her blue eyes sparkled. “Thank you,” she murmured, then gazed down at their enter-twined hands. “Mulder, I-”
 “Shh,” he told her, touching her cheek and lifting her chin up so he could look her in the eyes.
 Words weren’t needed. At his gaze, Scully’s blue eyes widened at the look in his hazel eyes. Friendship. Faith. Trust. Devotion. Hope. Love. And a tiny bit of lust. At the last thought, she could have sworn her heart quickened. He bent down slowly to kiss her, and she tilted her head up to meet him halfway, like always. Just as his lips brushed hers-

Flash.

Mulder’s breath warmed her mouth as his lips touched hers. . . . “What do you two think you’re doing?” barked a familiar voice.

Scully’s eyes flew open and focused on Mulder’s nose, millimeters from her face.  She extended her focus to a farther proximity and a framed picture of President Clinton snapped into sharp clarity.  Scully bolted back in her chair.  Her knuckles were white as she gripped the armrests, wishing she was anywhere but here.

Assistant Director Skinner studied his two agents seriously, fixing them both with a hard stare.  Mulder was chewing on the inside of his cheek and avoiding Skinner’s gaze.  Scully met his cold stare with one of her own, showing no sign of weakness except for a muscle that flinched in her cheek.

On the outside, Skinner was cold superiority and rigid discipline, but inside he could barely keep from smiling.  He knew full well that any kind of relationship that was blossoming between them was inappropriate and would most certainly have negative connotations for their professional lives.  But
Skinner also knew that these two people neede d each other.  Separately they were stubborn, intelligent, and brave, but together they were so much stronger.  Skinner knew without a doubt that they loved each other.  But at this point it was a caring, respectful relationship; he would even go as far as to say a romance, but not in a physical sense.  Skinner had not only a deep respect for their intellect and work in the Bureau, but for the unspoken boundaries that they had drawn and maintained.

Skinner realized that a heavy silence had descended upon them, and he forced his musings to come to a screeching halt.  Straightening and clearing his throat, he closed the manila folder on his desk and picked it up.  “So you’ll take the case?” he asked, well aware that he was ignoring a serious
violation of protocol.  They owed him big time for this one; what he couldn’t understand was why they had chosen to come to the realization of their love for each other in his office during a briefing.  It just didn’t make sense; something didn’t add up.

“Yes, sir,” Mulder said, leaning forward to take the file.  He and Scully stood, shoulders brushing as they did.

“You’re dismissed,” Skinner told them.  He leaned back in his chair as they left the room, Mulder guiding Scully with a hand in the small of her back.  Skinner knew that regardless of the status of their romantic involvement, they would continue to seek the truth.

That unquenchable thirst for answers came as naturally to Mulder as breathing, and over the past six years that aching need had become deeply ingrained as Scully.  Until they held quantifiable proof in their hands, Skinner knew that they would keep looking, and that neither would let a romantic reltionship halt or hinder their pursuit of the truth.  They would venture into the changing tides of a dark conspiracy, never looking back.  The light of day had long since disappeared in the labyrinth they now explored, and through the lies and deceptions they had learned to find a light in each other.