Worth Breaking (6/6) by Narida Law (narida_law@hotmail.com) Headers available in a separate post. Other parts can be found at: http://www.angelfire.com/ms/naridalaw ~~~~~~~~ Chapter Fifteen ~~~~~~~~ On the way to Mulder's Apartment September 30 1:45 a.m. In the end, it was really an impulsive decision, borne of too much unhappiness and guilt being swept away in a sudden onslaught of overwhelming relief and joy. Scully knew that Mulder didn't understand why she'd insisted on leaving the comfort of her apartment to go to his place. She wasn't sure she completely understood it herself. All she knew was that it felt imperative that they make love there. She knew he enjoyed making love at her place because he liked being surrounded by her things. Normally, she didn't mind this. In fact, it was sweet and flattering, and didn't cost her anything to indulge him. Now, however, she felt the need to be surrounded by =Mulder's= things, to be encompassed by =him=, after coming so close to nearly losing him. Perhaps it was selfish - but dammit, Mulder was hers now and she was allowed to be selfish. There were, of course, many questions that still needed to be asked and answered, but at this point, the only things that needed clarification were just details. And those could wait. After what she had been through on an emotional level the past few days, there was nothing more she wanted or needed at the moment than to feel the physical proof that Mulder was with her. Really =with= her, in every way. Eventually, she wanted to talk. To discuss all the details, to iron out all the things they had done wrong to get themselves to this point. But when a loved one is almost lost to you, do you =talk= about such things when first they are returned? No. You hug them. You kiss them. You reassure yourself that they are alive and healthy and safe in your arms. You want to hold them and never let go. She wanted to run her fingers over his skin and convince herself that his presence wasn't a figment of her imagination. She wanted to hold him close to her and make him promise that he would never, ever leave her. But most of all, she wanted to feel what it was to make love to Mulder knowing that he was =making love= to her. Of all the sexual positions they had tried over the last few months, of all the locations and explorations of each other's physical needs, she had never once been able to experience their intimacy with the knowledge that what they were doing had anything to do with love. Her natural defense mechanisms had seen to that. But now she would know what it was like. And she would get the opportunity to purge what had happened in his apartment only a few days ago, which, she realized, was partly her motivation for making them take this ride. They would get to dispel bad memories of the location and replace them with good ones. She felt that this cleansing was the most important thing in the world. Apparently, Mulder felt similarly. He was maneuvering the car as if prepping for the Indy 500. On the best of days, he wasn't a cautious driver, but tonight he was a menace. Normally, she would have rebuked him with a look, but tonight she was in as much of a hurry as he. Still, he seemed to sense her innate wariness - either that or he knew her well enough to know that she would be far from pleased by his maniacal driving - and quickly reassured her, "I drove like this on the way to your place; there wasn't a cop in sight." The last thing she was worried about was a ticket. It was their lives that were in jeopardy. Well, that was an exaggeration - Mulder was actually an excellent driver and she trusted him implicitly. However, this did not diminish the strain she felt when he nearly sideswiped a vehicle, and narrowly missed a street lamp, both of which had the singular misfortune of being on the same street Mulder had chosen to take. Luckily, the lateness of the hour and the chill in the air kept any would-be late-night strollers from making an appearance, although it had stopped raining. It would certainly be a risky move, with Mulder at the wheel in his current state. It was flattering, however, to see the evidence of how much he wanted her. He was risking life and limb to have her, and quickly. Well, either that, or he needed to pee again. The problem was, she had never been much in doubt as to whether Mulder wanted her. She knew he did, with an intensity that at times took her breath away. To know that he loved her...well, that was something she had only let herself consider in the deepest cavities of her heart. And soon she would know what it was to be made love to by Mulder, while being able to openly acknowledge that he loved her. She believed him. There was no way they would be where they were if she entertained even the slightest doubt. Mulder wouldn't lie about something like that. Other men would and did all the time; false words of love were uttered with appalling ease. But not Mulder, the silly man. He was much more apt to tell her that he =didn't= love her when he did, out of misguided notions. Deciphering how Mulder's mind worked often proved to be an exhausting yet fascinating exercise. She was sure this time would prove no different. When he had begun his awkward confession, part of her had already known what was coming. She had anticipated it with fervent hope and abject dread. The reason for the hope was obvious. The dread was in knowing that she wouldn't be able to accept his confession of love at face value; no matter what, she would have to be convinced. For even though Mulder would never knowingly lie about loving her, she had to believe he was susceptible to the fairly common affliction of believing himself to be in love when in fact he was not. It would be all too easy to mistake his affection for her as a friend, and her role as a convenient sexual outlet, for love - especially when those things seemed threatened, as they certainly must have when she had ended things between them. But for once she was more inclined to believe him than not, and when she had searched his face for evidence, she had been confronted with the truth. It was all there in his eyes - all the love in the world reflecting back on her. Mulder's eyes had always been open windows to his soul, at least for her, and he had never been able to hide anything from her there. At least, not when she was looking. These past few months, she had been so afraid of what she would see there that she hadn't really looked at all. She chastised herself for it now, for had she had more courage then, they would have both been spared a lot of heartache and pain. "Okay, Scully, come on," Mulder urged breathlessly, practically vaulting out of the now-unmoving vehicle. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed they had arrived at their destination. Walking as fast as she could, she was still no match for Mulder's long, hurried strides. He kept one hand on her back while the other tugged on her wrist - once or twice, she was even in danger of tripping, but his hold on her was such that he easily lifted her for that fraction of a second and preempted any possible accidents. At any other time, she would have given him her blistering opinion on what she thought of his manhandling ways, but she sensed his urgent need, and rather reveled in it. She would not be reprimanding him for wanting her too much, not tonight. Perhaps not ever. The elevator buttons were abused. Though announcing with their lit faces that the desired destination information was received and acknowledged, they were punched several more times by an impatient male finger. "Come on, come on," Mulder muttered, as the elevator doors slowly closed. For her part, Scully was not immune to the electricity that sparked in the air between them. She was glad that he was constantly touching her; if he didn't maintain contact, she would have to. The elevator doors finally opened, and she and Mulder cleared them in record speed. However, halfway down the hall, he suddenly stopped short. "Shit, I left it in the car," he muttered. "Left what in the car?" she asked, tugging him further down to his apartment, not really caring. She was more concerned with the fact that his attention was no longer concentrated on getting her naked and writhing on his couch. Could it be that her feminine wiles were slipping? Had the confession of her love somehow made her less attractive as a sexual being? She had gotten them to his front door. His gaze dropped down to her lips, his eyes darkening with intent. Her heart thrummed excitedly at the look on his face. "Never mind," he said, split seconds before his head dropped and he touched his lips to hers. The kiss deepened immediately as Scully eagerly opened her mouth to allow him entrance. It had been less than an hour, but it felt like an eternity since they had last kissed. His tongue swept in, dueling with hers in a wet greeting. He was fierce in his possession, rubbing his tongue gently, lovingly, against hers, then running it along the roof of her mouth and along her teeth. He was re-familiarizing himself, she realized - and knew that the past week had been a long time for him, too. It was unbearably touching, and the movement of his tongue inside her mouth was a heady feeling in itself. She felt herself turn into a puddle of goo, and would have slipped right down to the floor had his strong arms not caught her and kept her upright. Mulder made a frustrated sound in his throat, and broke the kiss, chest heaving. She whimpered in disappointment, not capable of more sound than that, though she wanted to question why he had halted the proceedings. Without saying anything, he suddenly grabbed her behind her thighs and lifted her legs up to wrap around his waist, her back supported by his apartment door. She understood at last that it was a matter of leverage. He'd probably gotten a cramp in his neck from the position they were in before. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands went about her waist, and he captured her mouth again for a second round. The desperate urgency of the last kiss was missing from this one, but it was no less fierce. She sensed that his need to reclaim her mouth as his territory had abated, and she took this opportunity to do some reclaiming of her own. Just a few hours ago she had believed she would be denied this pleasure for the rest of her life. The recollection prompted her to cherish this experience all the more, sucking on his lips as if her very life depended on it. She echoed his movements from only a few moments before in his exploration of her mouth, touching her tongue to every crevice inside his mouth that she could reach, until he groaned, the sound reverberating into her. It was a wonderful sensation, to feel his need and his love blend into that involuntary sound. He was pressing her so hard against the door that she was sure the imprint of "42" would be branded on the back of her head for a week. But stopping was not to be considered, not for such a trite, unimportant reason. Mulder had patiently allowed her exploration, his tongue only giving a gentle caress now and again against hers as she went about her business, but apparently he had grown impatient and wanted back in on the action. When her tongue darted forth again, he immediately slanted his mouth at an angle that would allow deeper access for them both. She was clutching his neck so hard that she thought she surely must be strangling him. However, since he wasn't complaining, she didn't let up - she suspected that this anchor was the only thing keeping her body from utter liquefaction. He trapped her tongue between his lips and began to suck voraciously, nipping lightly now and again with his teeth, and she felt a rush of hot liquid between her legs. It had been pooling for some time now, and had probably already soaked through her panties and perhaps even through her sweatpants. Wouldn't it be embarrassing if he pulled away from her sporting a big wet stain on the front of his pants from her? If it hadn't already happened, it would happen soon enough if they kept this up. Her eyes, which had been closed so she could savor their kisses without distraction, popped open. Her brain registered that they were in his hallway, for heaven's sake, and despite the late hour could be discovered in this compromising position. "Mulder, we should get inside," she said. But as he still had hold of her tongue, it sounded more like "Uh-her, ee ooh eht enhie." Keeping one arm around his neck, she used her free hand to push uselessly against his shoulder. He didn't budge an inch, and she decided that this was one of the times his superior strength was less a turn-on than it was a source of aggravation. Without other recourse, what she did was dive back into his kiss. She coaxed him to relinquish control, which he did, and she could now break the kiss at any time. She could break the kiss at any time. Come on, woman, break the kiss! But they were kissing so languidly now, so sweetly, that she was extremely loath to end it. The distant sound of the elevator doors was processed. The idea that someone would see this very private moment spurred her into action. She broke off the kiss abruptly, a loud popping sound resulting from the action, followed immediately by a loud sound of protest from Mulder. She unwrapped her legs from his waist, preparing to slide down to the floor. She found herself embraced in a viselike grip as Mulder let go of her hips only to wrap her securely in his arms, leaning in close, making it impossible for her to move down any further. He was pressed up firmly between her legs, and she could feel the hardness of his erection lining up with the part of her that strained and throbbed for him, and the sensation made her groan. "What are you doing?" Mulder asked, his voice slightly tinged with panic. "Where are you going?" She had to move her head to the side so that she could focus on his face, he was so close. "Mulder, we're in your hallway," she hissed, believing that whoever the elevator doors had opened for would spot them any second, if it wasn't already too late. His relief that she hadn't changed her mind and wasn't planning on leaving was almost palpable. She almost smiled. "So?" he asked. "I think someone's coming. I heard the elevator," she shared. He, of course, had no shame, and turned his head to look down the hall toward the elevator. She buried her face in his neck, mortified. She could hear the grin in his voice as he whispered, "There's no one there, Scully." Her head jerked up. "Are you sure? I thought I heard the elevator..." She turned to look for herself; indeed, the hallway was empty save for the two of them. "Well, all the same, I think we should go inside now," she said firmly. His eyes danced. "Mmm, good idea." He backed up a little, and the sudden lack of support caused her legs to slide downward with appalling abruptness. When her feet hit the floor, her knees felt rubbery and weak, and nearly gave out on her. She slammed her palms back against the door to keep herself from collapsing into an ignominious heap in front of Mulder's feet. He noted her difficulty with amusement, damn him. "Need some help?" he offered. She itched to wipe that smug smile off his face. All in due time. "I'm fine," she said. "Want to unlock the door?" The trembling of his fingers belied his smug tone. After several aborted attempts at inserting his key into the lock, she finally had to say it. "Need some help?" "Shut up, Scully." At last, the key slid into place and the door was opened. Scully wondered if a tsunami had ever been recorded as having gone through a residence before. If not, Mulder's apartment would be the first. It was a complete disaster, worse than she had ever seen it. She could barely see the floor for all the things covering it. "Ah - okay, then." She wasn't quite sure what to say. She had the feeling this had something to do with what had happened Saturday, but she didn't want to bring that up, both because she didn't want to remind either of them of that awful time, and because possibly it had nothing to do with...this...at all. She had never seen Mulder's cheeks warm to that color red before. He'd been rosy from drinking, but this was another flush entirely. He was obviously embarrassed. "Sorry about the mess," he mumbled, bending to pick up some scattered paper. He wouldn't look at her. She shut the door, since he had apparently forgotten all about it, and righted a couple of chairs. "Mulder - " she hesitated. She felt like she had to say =something=, but didn't quite know what. Suddenly making his way to her, he took her in his arms. His closeness caused her to forget what she was going to say, if in fact she was going to say anything at all. "I don't want to talk about it," he declared. "All right. We don't have to," she agreed softly. His arms tightened until she was pressed against him in a tight hug, her arms wrapped around his waist. "I missed you," he said, and she could tell that he was trying to rein in his emotions. "I missed you a lot." Scully felt her own eyes grow damp. God, it had been such a relief to finally be able to cry back at her apartment, and now she couldn't seem to stop. All it had taken was Mulder. It was truly a magic hold that he had on her, this ability to make her express emotion when she had taught herself at an early age to be reserved. She always =felt= the emotion; she just found it difficult to express it sometimes. Not with Mulder. With Mulder, it all just ran out of her. It embarrassed her at times. But she wouldn't change how he was capable of affecting her, for the world. She almost smiled. "Did you know that you're capable of supernatural powers?" There was silence, then: "What?" She'd thrown him. What a nice change from the way things normally worked between them. "You. All this time you've been searching for proof of extraordinary powers, and here you've possessed them the whole time." He finally let up on his hold, so that he could look down and see her face. "I've never looked for proof," he said in an affronted tone. "That's your job. I just contend." "You mean you make wild assertions and pull theories out of your ass," she retorted. His pearly whites made an appearance. "Yeah." She rolled her eyes, then stepped away from him to make her way over to the couch. Seating herself, she burrowed in as far as she could burrow into leather, then raised an eyebrow. "Well? Are you going to stand there all night?" "Maybe. I have a pretty good view." "You'll have a better one if you come closer," she promised. She saw the front of his pants react to her statement, and she smiled in what she hoped was not too predatory a manner. He swallowed - she could see his Adam's apple bob even from where she was. Slowly, he made his way over to the couch, then knelt down next to her. "You're really good at this," he sighed. "You always win." "I have lots of motivation...I get such a sexy prize." She put a hand on his chest, looking at him hungrily. He let out a squeak, then cleared his throat. "I don't know if you're ready for your prize," he said nonchalantly. "It may be too...potent...for you." She responded to the sexy undertone of his voice. "Oh, really? I think I am, but how do I know for sure? I wouldn't want to be prematurely...worn out." Mulder seemed to consider for a moment. "That is a very good question. I think a series of experiments will unearth your answer for you, Dr. Scully." Tricky devil. "Hmm. What kind of experiments?" "Well...they're rather - risque." She couldn't help it; her eyebrow shot up. "Oh, really?" "Yes. Perhaps too avant garde for you." Even though she knew he was teasing, she rose to the bait. "That's twice you've questioned my stamina. I think I'm fully capable of what you have in mind." It was his turn to raise his eyebrows, and his eyes twinkled. "Now you have me intrigued. But saying the words is easy. How do I know you'll actually go through with it, when push comes to shove?" She reached out to trace the outline of his lower lip. "When push comes to shove, you can bet I'll go through with it," she answered huskily. Scully saw a dull flush splash Mulder's cheekbones, and felt enormous satisfaction. She had made him blush! She'd actually made the king of innuendo blush. He cleared his throat, recovering quickly. "I'm glad you said that, because this involves...the removing of clothes." She nearly laughed at the way he managed to sound scandalized, appalled, and excited all at once, when she knew he only felt the last. "Oh, my," she played along, trying her best to sound shocked. "You mean I have to take off my clothes? All of them?" He nodded vigorously. "Yes. All." "I don't know. What if I get cold?" "I'll keep you warm," he assured her. She suppressed a shiver from the promise she saw in his eyes. "I believe you," she answered faintly. "All right, so - whenever you're ready," he said, obviously trying to hide his eagerness. Not so fast. "What about you?" "What about me?" "Well, it doesn't seem fair that I have to be the only one who's naked," she pointed out reasonably. "Oh." He looked genuinely sorry that she had thought of this. Then he brightened. "You won't be the only one." "I won't?" "I plan on joining you, eventually." "Eventually." She did her best to sound skeptical of such a plan. Luckily, she had had a lot of practice. She gave the appearance of considering whether this was a good deal for her. "Scuh-lee," he whined. "This is =my= fantasy." She found him irresistible when he whined like that, though it would be disastrous to let him know that. So instead, she questioned with amusement, "This is your fantasy?" "Yes. Well, one of them," he amended. She had always been curious about this, and now she was in the perfect position to find out more. "You have fantasies about me?" she asked innocently. "You have fantasies about me on this couch?" Mulder laughed in genuine amusement. "You're kidding, right?" Scully shook her head. It was something she had =assumed=, but how could she know it if he had never told her? He answered solemnly, "I have had fantasies about you while I was on this couch, yes. I have had fantasies about you =being= on this couch, yes. In every way you could possibly mean that question, the answer is yes." He didn't look ashamed at all. She was entirely too thrilled with his answer. "Well...to be fair, I've also had fantasies about you being on this couch," she admitted. He had the cheek to be sarcastic. "Gee, really? Is that why we drove all the way here even though we had a perfectly good couch and bed where we were?" She frowned, putting her index finger against his lips. God, she loved the way that felt. Apparently, so did he, because he quieted immediately and didn't move. "I'm not finished. I've also had fantasies about you while sitting on this couch." His eyes widened just a fraction. "You have?" he asked against her finger. "When?" "Oh, lots of times," she said airily. "While we're working?" "Mm hmm. Especially when you're wearing your glasses," she revealed with a teasing smile. "You like the Clark Kent look, huh? What about when we're watching TV?" "Yup. The thoughts in my head are much more interesting than anything on television." "What a coincidence. Mine, too," he revealed, unabashed. "Even while we're eating pizza?" "Especially then." She grinned. "You always get tomato sauce in the most...fantasy-inspiring places," she shared. "Like...your lip..." She used her index finger and ran it down his pouty lower lip. "Your chin..." The finger then trailed down to that location. "And I just want to..." She leaned forward and flicked her tongue lightly against his chin, causing him to jump in a most adorable way. Scully leaned back, suddenly blase again. "And...I have fantasies about you fantasizing about me while you're on this couch." She gave him a look of triumph. Beat that. "You fantasize about that?" he squeaked. "I imagine that when you're thinking about me, you're also engaged in...other activities at the same time. Am I right?" "You have no idea." She smiled. "That's what I thought," she said in satisfaction. She was feeling just a little bit gleeful. And smug. "Well then, since we're both here, it looks like fate has presented us with an unprecedented opportunity." "And that would be...?" "To make each other's fantasies come true." Her mouth went dry. His words weren't entirely unexpected, but their effect was not diminished one iota. She was intrigued, excited, and wary all at the same time. She had always wondered exactly what kind of fantasies Mulder had about her - and now, not only would she know, but she would get to experience them firsthand. She couldn't quite suppress the shiver that ran down her spine. However, she thought she managed to sound quite calm when she spoke. "Who goes first?" The idea of telling him about the things she fantasized, before he shared his with her, wasn't very appealing. She felt a little shy of this prospect, in spite of all they had already done with each other. Amazing. She quickly amended, "Never mind. You go first." He seemed to hesitate. "It's actually...pretty simplistic." Scully was relieved. She smiled encouragingly. "That's okay. Mine are usually simplistic, too," she confessed. "To tell you the truth, just the act of making love to you here would pretty much fulfill every one of them." Hers, too. "That's sweet, Mulder. But I know there must be...specifics involved." She looked at him expectantly. Taking a deep breath, he began, "You're naked." "Already? No striptease or anything?" "I told you it was simplistic." "All right. So I'm just...naked. For no apparent reason." His eyes glinted wickedly. "Oh - there's a reason." He moved away a little. "So? Take off your clothes." "Wait. I want to know what's going to happen," she argued. "Scuh-lee." He rolled his eyes. "So typical. I'll tell you as we go along. It'll be more fun that way." She bit her lip, considering. "All right," she said grudgingly. "But if you drag out a chest of electronic devices, I'll have to hurt you." "The key word here is: simple. The only device you'll be handling...is mine." He parted the lapels of her light cotton jacket and brought his thumb to one of her hardened nipples, pressing firmly through her t-shirt. The action was so unexpected that she gave an involuntary jump as a tide of warmth flooded the area between her legs once more. Since this only added to the evidence of their earlier activities out in his hallway, she was made aware that her panties were getting very uncomfortable. It would actually be a relief to take them off. She was also amused that they had embarked on this sexual adventure when they were both decidedly at their most unglamorous, sporting comfy sweats, t-shirts, and tennis shoes. "Okay, Mulder, I can live with that," she replied in a low voice. She began to remove her jacket. He got up, and it looked like he was going to leave the room. "Where the hell are =you= going?" "I'm not supposed to be here," he explained in a reasonable tone of voice. "I just...find you here." "You just find me here. Naked on your couch. Like that's plausible." He sighed. "It's a =fantasy=. And it's not plausible?" She thought about that. "Well..." "I've been away for a long, long time," he added. "You have? Where have you been?" "It doesn't matter. But you haven't seen me in a long time. You've been coming here to feed my fish." "I see. I'm dumping fish food into the tank, and then I think, what the hell, I'll just get naked and sit on Mulder's couch." "Now you're getting it!" He grinned, not fazed at all by her teasing. "=And= you think, what the hell, why don't I just masturbate?" "I think WHAT?" "You're such a naughty girl." "I don't want to - " she protested. She wanted =him=, not herself. "Pleeeease, Scully," he pleaded, widening his eyes to form that look she couldn't say no to. Mulder always indulged her when she asked the same of him. Wasn't it fair for her to return the favor? It wasn't as though she wouldn't enjoy it. So she wanted =him= more. So what? She would still have him... "Okay." He fairly glowed with delight. "I'll be in the bedroom. When you're done undressing, lie down on the couch, so you're facing my desk. You can't see me. Oh, and Scully..." His voice grew husky. "Don't worry, you won't be alone for long..." She was amused in spite of herself. As he retreated to the bedroom, she made short work of disposing her clothes. As she had suspected, removing her underwear was blissful. The evidence of her desire had cooled, the cold wetness pressing against her skin uncomfortably. She was a little embarrassed by how much of it there was, making the insides of her thighs sticky, but figured that was probably good for what Mulder had in mind. Settling herself onto her back, she wondered what she was supposed to do now. Sure, she knew the technicalities of what she was supposed to be doing, but it just seemed a little - crude. Simply reaching down there and doing what she had done a thousand times before didn't seem right for this occasion. She wondered what it would be like if Mulder really were gone for a "long time." What was a long time? A week? She tried to imagine not seeing Mulder for a week. Her brow furrowed as she tried and failed to imagine such a scenario. She remembered that they had been away from each other the past couple of days, and that had been torture. Two days, and she had been frantic to see him, to hear from him. But that wasn't really a "long time" by normal standards...so, three days, maybe? A week? A week was a reasonably long time, wasn't it? So if two days was bad, think of what a week would feel like... Scully found herself actually missing Mulder. It was ridiculous. He was in the next room and she was missing him. But she wasn't supposed to know that he was in the next room, she told herself. To her, he'd been gone for a week. A week without seeing his face, hearing his voice, breathing in his scent. Oh, God. She bit her lip. It was ridiculous that she was missing him, really ridiculous. But it wasn't as though he were gone for good, no. He would be back soon. She was simply keeping his fish company, providing them sustenance while Mulder was away. In fact, they probably ate better when he was gone than when he was actually there. Well, ostensibly she was here to feed his fish. More likely, she was here because she wanted to surround herself with his things. If he'd been gone for a week that meant she hadn't had sex in a week, at least. It was funny, but she'd gone years without it and had been perfectly fine. She hadn't missed it...well, at least, not the way she did after she and Mulder had started sleeping together. Now she felt deprived if she couldn't have sex with him, which had actually only happened a few times - when she had gotten her period, and the past week or so, when she thought she'd never get to make love with him ever again. So Mulder had been gone, she hadn't gotten any in all that time, and now she was alone, horny, and missing him. Of its own volition, her right hand trailed down her chest, passing the valley between her breasts, past her stomach, down, down, until she could feel the coarse texture of the hair between her legs. So close to where she wanted to touch herself, but not yet, not yet; it wasn't the right time yet. Her other hand lightly clasped her neck, then traveled down to her collarbone, and she splayed her fingers before finally moving lower, over the soft skin of her left breast. Her fingers teased at herself, circling the area around her nipple but never actually touching it. Her eyes still closed, she pretended that it was Mulder's hands on her, Mulder's fingers that finally pinched her nipple between his fingers and tugged. She heard a moan and realized that it was hers. The fingers resting in the curls down below, which had been patiently waiting for further orders, were put into action. She touched the soft skin of her femininity, moaning softly again at how good it felt. Mulder, it's Mulder, she told herself, missing him. But Mulder's fingers weren't so small; Mulder's fingers weren't so soft. They were deliciously rough and big - big enough that when he slid his fingers inside her she actually felt stretched. Certainly more than when her fingers were doing the job. And he had a callus on his trigger finger that provided the most wonderful friction. She shivered now as she imagined that finger sliding into her, rubbing her insides in all the right ways. Hearing her own gasping breaths, with no Mulder groans to complement them, jarred her out of her illusion and she was disappointed to find that it was only her own fingers moving in and out of herself - not nearly as satisfying as when Mulder did it. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed, willing herself to delve back into the fantasy. "Mulder," she murmured, as if the mention of his name would conjure his presence. And suddenly it was as though she could feel his light touch gliding over her body, hovering for a moment over her breasts before gliding like a ghost down to where she craved his touch most. She could almost smell his scent, almost hear his deep breathing as he concentrated on moving his hands over her. She withdrew her fingers. "Mulder...?" His name was but a breath of air as it passed between her lips, and her eyelids felt too heavy to open. Yes, yes, it was his hand there, parting her sweaty thighs further, opening her up with his warm dry fingers. She moved her lower body, desiring a more substantial touch. "Keep your eyes closed," he whispered, and his voice seemed to come from the edge of her consciousness. She did as he asked, although she wasn't sure if the voice had come from somewhere in her own mind. Her phantom Mulder's touch was still too light. She wanted more. She needed more. Moving her hips insistently, she pushed down, and was finally rewarded for her efforts. That finger, the finger with the callus he probably didn't even know was there, was sliding into her, rubbing against her, making her feel so good. It was soon joined by another, both moving in and out of her body at a leisurely pace. Her right hand, the one that had so recently been doing what his fingers had taken over, was lifted into the air. Before she could process what was happening, he had taken her middle and index fingers - still covered in her juices - into his mouth. It was incredibly hot in there, his tongue slick and soft. He scraped his teeth against her knuckles, then sucked strongly. She moaned. The fingers that had been keeping a slow thrusting rhythm into her sped up, and she could hear the wet sounds her body made as it was repeatedly invaded by his long digits. The physicality of it felt unbelievably good, and coupled with her emotions, escalated too quickly. She was torn - her body craved the release, while she wanted the feeling to last longer. But she didn't want him to stop, either, so she tightened her inner muscles around his fingers, releasing slowly, repeating the action a few times. He read her body language with efficiency, and slowed his movements. She wanted to see him, but was afraid to open her eyes. It was odd, but though it all felt incredibly real, what if he wasn't really there? What if she had only dreamed the past few hours, and was really lying in her own bed at home, waiting to wake up from this wonderful fantasy back into a world in which Mulder would never, ever do these things to her again? If this was only a dream, then she wanted it to last a few moments longer. An eternity longer. Yet almost against her will, her eyelids cracked open. The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was Mulder, so real, so vibrantly real, kneeling next to the couch. And he was looking right back at her. He'd been reading her face the whole time, she realized, even as his fingers had pleasured her. His mouth went slack, and she slipped her fingers out, bringing her hand up to his unshaven cheek. He leaned into it, staring at her with those intense eyes of his, so dark, and made even darker by the fact that somehow, all the lights had been turned off. The only source of illumination came from the moonlight that shone through the window in front of his desk. "You're here..." she said, and was mortified to feel the dampness return once again to her eyes. "I will always be here," he answered, his voice sounding unnaturally loud in the quietness of the room. "You'd better be," she said. Then, "Where are your clothes?" "I imagine, where I left them." She remembered that they were supposed to be acting out a fantasy. "Aren't you cheating?" she asked. He shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips. "I...sped events up a bit. It's my fantasy." "You keep using that excuse." "When it stops being applicable, I'll stop using it," he said in a reasonable tone of voice. It was a pity she so seldom heard it. "Besides," he added, lowering his voice, "you were having so much fun out here on your own that I got jealous." She laughed. He leaned down and spoke directly into her ear in a low, sexy tone. "In my fantasies, only I get to have extended time pleasuring you." A tremor ran through her entire body, causing her nipples to pucker even further. "Isn't that...kind of...selfish?" she gasped. "I guess it is," he admitted, now trailing open-mouthed kisses along her jaw and down her neck. "Don't you know I'm very selfish when it comes to you, Scully?" He was down to her breasts now, and he licked at a nipple. "I'll work on it." "I don't really m-mind," she said magnanimously, then promptly forgot what their conversation was about as he sucked her nipple into the hot cavern of his mouth and used his tongue and lips to bring her to new heights of ecstasy. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, which were deliciously strong and smooth. Mulder had great shoulders. He leaned over to give equal attention to her other breast, and she took the opportunity to run her hand up the back of his neck, into the lush softness of his hair. It was unfair for a man to have hair this soft. It felt so good between her fingers that she didn't let go even when he began to move lower, kissing the valley between her breasts and then over her stomach, lower and lower until there was no mistaking his intentions. Oh, God, with that mouth of his, and with his talents in using it, there was no way she would be able to postpone an orgasm; she was too close to it already. She wanted to wait for him. Yet her legs began to shake slightly, and her heart rate sped up in anticipation. "M-mulder," she began, but couldn't find the voice to actually hinder his progress. "Do you know how wet you are for me, Scully?" he whispered, having reached his destination. Before she could answer, the flat of his tongue was firmly pressed against her, and the sensation caused her to jerk against his face. He began to lap at her softly, much like a kitten with a saucer of cream. Scully found it impossible to speak. Her vocal chords were paralyzed; or rather, the part of her brain that normally operated them was concentrated on something much different. Mulder was playing with her now, licking and sucking at her with just enough pressure to make it feel good, but not enough to bring her over the edge. He kept this up for some time. The sensations would build and build until she was sure there was no postponing the inevitable, ready to float in a sea of bliss... But then he would prove her wrong, retreating from his efforts, allowing her to return to the plane of simultaneous torture and pleasure that made her think of being on a roller coaster in that breath-stealing moment just as it was about to plunge back down to earth. Any time her body tensed up to prepare for orgasm, he would slow his movements and move his head away so that her feminine core was exposed to the cool air of the apartment. It would take the edge off her need, until he brought his mouth to her again and it started all over. For a long time the only sounds that existed were the sound of Mulder drinking from her steadily dripping fountain and the sound of her small gasps as she tried to control her response. It was true that she hadn't wanted to orgasm yet, not without him, but she was aroused almost to the point of pain. Her clit throbbed so heatedly that she thought she would explode soon. She eventually became so sensitive that even the slightest touch brought more of the pleasurable ache, making it more difficult to keep from climaxing. Mulder seemed to realize this, and went out of his way to keep from touching her there. After long torturous minutes of this, he saw fit to slide his tongue into her, making her cry out, and her hands flew to his head to keep him there. Her inner muscles involuntarily contracted, and were disappointed to find that they were not clutching at a more substantial appendage. She groaned her pleasure and her disappointment. "Please...please..." she whimpered, hoping that Mulder would understand what she wanted, because it was simply beyond her to ask for it more intelligibly. He ignored her at first, continuing to delve in and out of her with his tongue, making her muscles respond as if they were having intercourse. It was wholly unsatisfying, for even as his tongue whetted her appetite, it was far from stimulating her hunger. But then he ceased, sucking at her one last time, and proceeded to slide back up the couch, deliberately rubbing his naked body against hers. Her nerve endings were on the alert, and with every scrape of his chest hair against her sensitive skin, her body was subjected to an intense tremor of need and desire. She ran her hands over the hard planes of chest, then over the smooth expanse of his back as he drew closer. Mulder was so big that for the two of them to fit on the couch, they had to lie on their sides, and Scully's back was pressed up against the back of the couch. Mulder settled himself between her legs, drawing her right knee over his hip. She was exposed in such a position, and could feel his hardness seeking entrance to her body. She eagerly attempted to meet it, rotating her hips and causing him to groan. But he didn't enter her as she had hoped. "Mulder - " She bit her lip in frustration, trying to get him to comply. She slid her arms over his shoulders, clasping her hands behind his neck, attempting to draw him closer. "Shhh." He brought his index finger to her lips, which she promptly sucked into her mouth. He tasted good - warm, salty, and she could taste traces of herself. "Want to know what happens next?" She opened her mouth, and his finger slid out. "I =know= what happens next," she stated a little impatiently. "But you're not cooperating." He grinned, the bastard, seemingly unaffected by the same need that coursed through her veins. "Oh yes," he breathed. "That will happen. As soon as you beg me for it." Her eyes widened slightly, and she let out a puff of air. "That won't happen," she stated haughtily, even as her heart pounded in her chest and she formed the words in her head. Mulder appeared undeterred by her statement, even going so far as to widen his smile in delight. "I'm disappointed, Scully," he purred, and she knew it was a blatant lie. It was obvious her response was exactly what he had expected. "I guess I'll have to work for it, then." His hand came between their bodies, sliding down to the curls between her legs. Oh no. Not that again. She couldn't take more of that. No more teasing. If he started his pleasure-and-retreat tactics again she was going to cave, anyway. So why delay the inevitable when she could have what she wanted right now? She swallowed and licked her lips. He followed the movement of her tongue with hungry eyes. It bolstered her courage. He was not as indifferent as he acted, and she wasn't really "giving in." And it was his fantasy, after all, and she had promised to fulfill it... "Wait." He stopped her as she was about to speak. "Not because it's part of the script, Scully," he rasped. "Only if you really want it." His fingers drew nearer to the spot that craved his touch and her clit throbbed painfully in anticipation. Was he kidding? "I do, Mulder," she answered, tossing all pride to the winds. "Please give it to me." He raised an eyebrow, mischief dancing in his eyes. Obviously, now that he had her, he was going to exploit his advantage. " 'It'? Maybe we're not thinking of the same thing. What exactly is it that you want?" In her head, she promised thousands of Mulder-humiliation scenarios to come, but at the moment he had the upper hand, and sometimes, giving in wasn't giving in at all... "Your =cock=," she whispered, gyrating her hips against him, causing his jaw to drop and a small sliver of saliva to appear at the corner of his mouth. "In me." Recovering, he closed his mouth and said, "Whatever you want, Scully." He positioned himself at her entrance, and already she was contracting her muscles, as if she would somehow be able to draw him inside her when he wasn't paying attention. Slowly, inch by thick inch, he eased his way into her. Farther, farther, more, more, more... She gasped. There was so much of him, and every bit was stretching her, testing her limits. God, how many times had they done this, and still it affected her in this way? The feeling bordered on too much, and she pressed back against the couch in an effort to escape from the near- overwhelming sensation. But she had nowhere to go, and he kept pushing into her, inexorably forging his possession. He was so hot and hard, as if he was made of fire-warmed steel. She melted around him. And then he was pushing against =that spot=, and she couldn't get him close enough. "You feel incredible, Scully," he groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he dropped his forehead against hers. She kissed his closed eyelids softly. "You're the one who feels incre...ohhhh," she ended on a moan as he began to move, thrusting in and out with an insistent rhythm before slowing his pace. His eyes opened again, and his lips twisted into a cocky smile. "I thought I'd taken care of all that wetness down there, but you just keep generating more, don't you, Scully?" An answering smile played on her lips and her lashes lowered in modesty. "Actually, it's you who keeps generating more," she countered in a low, sexy voice, and was rewarded by a fierce thrust. "Sorry," he whispered. "Couldn't help myself." "It's okay," she gasped. "You can do it again if you like," she added generously. He did, and she showed her thanks by covering his mouth with hers and engaging him in a long, drugging kiss. Her eyes drifted shut; it was increasingly impossible to keep them open. They kissed; they made love; Scully couldn't imagine any moment more perfect than this. "I want this to last forever," Mulder groaned. Eventually, their languid rhythm was no longer satisfying, and they moved harder against each other. But their position wasn't conducive to more vigorous lovemaking, and Scully soon found herself sitting up on the couch, Mulder pulling out of her. It made her feel empty, and she immediately demanded his return. "Before you know it," he promised. He knelt onto the cushion between her legs, and maneuvered them so that she was sitting on his lap, his cock pressed up between them. "Put your arms around my neck," he said, and she complied straight away. He placed his hands on her knees, pushing them up and out until they were pressed up against the back of the couch. She was completely spread open to him. Positioning himself at her entrance once more, he leaned forward to say in her ear, "Now I've got you exactly where I want you," and promptly thrust back into her. She cried out in surprise. God, that felt amazing. She felt taken. There was nothing she could do to control his movements. He had enclosed her in his embrace and everywhere she turned, everywhere she looked, was Mulder. He pounded into her, and all she could do was tighten her arms around his neck and hang on for the ride as she was rocked against the couch again and again by the driving force of his hips and lower back. Her own back was sticky with sweat, and the feel and sound of it rubbing against the leather material of the couch only added to the eroticism of what they were doing. Without the resistant friction of the leather, the power with which she was being shoved up against it would have had her sliding further and further upwards. But as it was, the laws of physics kept her in position to receive more of the same. As much as she loved relinquishing control to Mulder, she soon decided that the time had come to take some of it back. Her arms slipped from his shoulders, sliding down the taut, hard muscles of his straining arms, down to his wrists. His hands were still firmly pressed against her knees, holding her open as he moved with fierce purpose, inside her. Her hands reached his hands, and her light touch caused him to still his movements. "Mulder," she said softly, her fingers playing with the skin on the back of his hands. He was out of breath. "What's the matter, Scully? Don't you like it?" His brow creased in uncertainty. "I love it," she replied fervently. "But now it's my turn." His hands loosed their grip, and her knees straightened once more, resting against his hips. In one fluid movement, she managed to turn them around so that he was now the one sitting on the couch with her straddling him, all without breaking their connection. "That's better," she said in satisfaction. "This is...rather nice," Mulder murmured, jerking his hips up and causing them both to gasp. "Amazing - you're even capable of topping my fantasies." She only smiled as she began to move on him, easing him out and then taking him back in. Soon she was bouncing up and down on his lap, and he was thrusting his hips up to meet every one of her downward strokes. His hands clutched at her hips, pulling her down on him hard. She was sure she'd have bruises from his fingers in the morning. She couldn't care less. They slammed against one another, each forceful movement eliciting cries from them both. Scully felt the beginnings of the vibrations traveling through her inner muscles that signaled her oncoming orgasm. She licked his lips, coaxing them apart so she could slide her tongue inside. After several moments of gasping into one another's mouths, Mulder gently broke the kiss. "Scully," he breathed against her lips. "Hmm?" She could barely concentrate. Perspiration was trickling into her eyes, making it hard to see. All she could think was, don't stop moving, don't stop moving, don't stop moving... This was without a doubt the most beautiful love they had ever made. So this was what it was like. She sighed blissfully. "Scully." Her name was more insistent-sounding now. Mulder was looking at her with such intense concentration that she was concerned. "What, Mulder?" she asked, pulling back a little so she could see his face more clearly. It was physically impossible for her to stop riding him, so she didn't, but she slowed her pace, and he matched her effortlessly. "Okay, at this point..." he said in a voice that betrayed his need, lifting his hands from her hips to hold her face, his eyes dark pools of quiet desperation, "...you always tell me that you love me." Oh, Mulder. She was sure that he could see her love shining from her eyes even in the dark, even with her back turned from the only source of light into the room. "I love you, Mulder," she said, kissing him gently. The heartfelt truth in her words softened her tone to barely a whisper of breath against his lips. "I love you." His eyes closed. "God...oh GOD Scully..." And he convulsed, shooting into her with a force that made her glad she had such a tight hold on him. Feeling Mulder's hot fluids warm her insides was incredibly stimulating, and she couldn't quite bite back the moan that rose in her throat. She held on as he continued to jerk against her, not ceasing his rapid thrusts, and this, combined with the sheer intensity of his orgasm, set off her own. As she came, she distantly heard Mulder chanting, "I love you, Scully...I love you..." Her own climax had been postponed for so long that when it finally happened, rushing through her body in wave after wave of intense pleasure, it was more powerful than she had ever before experienced, or even imagined was possible. Colors exploded in front of her eyes in a shower of brightness and light, right before the world went a blissful black. Dimly, as if she were somebody else, she recognized that her cheek was pressed against Mulder's. She wasn't sure if the wetness she felt was a result of the tears raining down his face, or hers. After a time, she recovered enough to lift her head, and reached up to brush her hair away from her damp face. She couldn't help but notice that he was looking at her with a sweetly adoring expression, and she was sure he would see the same look on her face. "I love you," he said fiercely, hugging her to him hard. "I know," she murmured, licking at the salty skin over his collarbone, then snuggled against him with a contended sigh. She felt him moving around, rearranging limbs that were too heavy for her to move - including her own. Then he was standing, lifting her into his arms and carrying her into his bedroom. Settling her onto her feet, he made sure that she could stand up on her own before he moved to the closet. "Let me get you some pajamas," he said. "I need underwear." The pair she'd been wearing was somewhere out in the living room, and she didn't feel like going out to find them. It'd take her a month to find them in that mess. And she didn't like wearing clothes without her underwear. "Forget it. No pajamas." She yawned. Mulder turned around, a pair of flannel pajamas in his hands. "I know you like sleeping in your PJs, Scully. Um...you might find some underwear in that drawer over there." He brought a hand up to scratch his head. "What?" "They're clean," he added quickly. Now she was seriously annoyed. He had =women's= underwear in his drawers? If he thought, even for a second, that she was going to wear panties that had been owned by some other woman in his life - possibly Diana Fowley - he had another think coming. And she didn't even want to know what it said about him or his relationships with this past woman - women? - that prompted him to keep the underwear to this day. If it wasn't so late, and if she wasn't so tired, and if she wasn't sure that she would be seriously sore tomorrow as a result of their activities tonight, she might have given in to the impulse to go ballistic and demand an explanation. As it was, ripping Mulder a new asshole would simply have to wait until tomorrow. But she had to see exactly what the hell he thought he was doing, having women's underwear in his possession. Perhaps seeing the evidence would rouse the energy for her to chew him out. Without a word she stalked over to his chest of drawers and yanked the first open, where she knew he kept his boxers. Her head lowered, her hair falling like a curtain over the side of her face so that he couldn't see her expression, she allowed herself a smile - a huge smile of relief and mild irritation. They were hers. All of her missing underwear - save the one pair that had been torn - were sitting, nicely washed, in Mulder's underwear drawer, right next to his boxers. She should probably be disturbed by this discovery, but the relief that he hadn't been keeping some other woman's panties in his possession overshadowed any immediate feelings of aggravation. She was instead only mildly exasperated, especially when she remembered all the times she'd thought she was going crazy, hunting for her underwear high and low, thinking she'd misplaced them. Now she was compelled to ask herself the same question she had asked only moments before, only now the query sounded much different. What did it say about his feelings for her that he would do such a thing? Suddenly she felt giddy. Still looking into the drawer, she tried to mask the smile in her voice when she spoke. She aimed for stern. "Mulder, is there something you want to tell me?" "Uh..." Was that fear on his face? She thought she heard him swallow. Yes, that was definitely fear. She had never seen him look so guilty. He must have known that she would be less than pleased, but had decided to reveal all in spite of it. From the look on his face, he obviously thought that she was going to start cursing a blue streak, raining all sorts of wrath upon him. For some reason, that caused laughter to bubble up inside her, and she was soon overcome with giggles, her annoyance having long since faded. He crossed over to her as she pulled a pair of panties out of the drawer, still smiling, and put them on. Standing before her, he used his thumbs to tuck her hair behind her ears, then gently caressed her face with his fingertips. "I just wanted to have proof...that we were real..." God, she had been on an emotional roller coaster tonight. She alternated between wanting to cry and wanting to laugh with every new revelation. Now, she was overcome by an emotion that made her throat feel thick. He helped her don her pajamas as if she were a little girl, then led her over to the bed. Tucking her securely into the voluminous softness of the covers, he kissed her brow as she wriggled around contentedly. The coolness of his sheets felt heavenly against her heated skin, and it all smelled deliciously like Mulder. Mulder surrounded her. She had all she could ever want. It was an effort to keep her eyes open; she felt incredibly drowsy. But she didn't want to fall asleep before he got into bed beside her and she could feel his arms sliding around her. She could hear him moving around the room, and wondered what he could be doing. "How long have you been in love with me, Mulder?" she asked, trying to keep herself awake. She didn't know where that came from, but now that she had asked, she was interested in the answer. She yawned. He didn't answer right away, probably mulling the question over, and she had to ask herself if his answer mattered. What if he said 'last week'? Would it mean any less than if he said 'five years'? Drawing close to her side of the bed, he studied her with those thoughtful eyes of his as she struggled to keep hers open. "I think..." he hesitated. "I think since I was a single-celled organism, Scully," he answered finally. "As long as I can remember." As he kissed her brow and she drifted off to sleep, she thought dreamily that that was a very good answer. ~~~~~~~~ Mulder's Apartment September 30 7:48 a.m. Something had woken her. It wasn't the heavy arm that was draped across her stomach, or the soft breathing in her ear. She recognized Mulder in those things, and they were only comforting. No, what had prompted her sudden leap to consciousness was a nagging concern. Something wasn't right. Her eyes flew open and a quick glance at the clock told her that they were both going to be late for work this morning. She hated being late. Quickly, her mind flew through her daily calendar - well, as quickly as the fact that she'd just woken up would allow - and breathed a sigh of relief that they didn't have any meetings this morning. She was just about to turn to Mulder and poke him in the shoulder when she noticed the object next to her head on the pillow. It was a piece of paper folded in half, standing on top of what looked like an open book. Grabbing the piece of paper, she unfolded it and read Mulder's bold scrawl: "No work today. Let's call in sick." She smiled. Fine by her. It would look suspicious for them both to call in a sick day, but who cared? That worry over, there was still the mystery of the book. She squinted and recognized Mulder's writing on the open page. It was his journal. First, she was surprised, because she hadn't known that he kept a journal. Second, she was somewhat wary because it was obviously there for her to read. Some images clicked in her mind, and she recognized it as the same item that he had brought to her apartment last night. Had he meant for her to read this then? And how had he placed this here without her knowledge? She didn't know the answer to the first question, but to answer the last, she remembered that she had been out like a light after his answer to her question of how long he'd been in love with her. In the light of day, she flushed in remembrance. God, what a stupid question to have asked. All things considered, it would have been an easy task for him to retrieve the book and place it here for her to find in the morning. But he hadn't had it when they had entered the apartment yesterday - she ought to know; she'd had her hands all over him and was sure she would have noticed a journal in his pants. Then she recalled his muttering something about having left something in the car, and the pieces of the puzzle all fell into place. Okay, now that that little mystery was solved - back to the journal. Did she really want to read it? Perhaps the real question was, now that she knew of its existence, and Mulder's obvious desire for her to read it, how could she not? Carefully sitting up, she ignored the tightening of his arm and the soreness of her muscles. Looked like she'd be spending the day recuperating. Taking the journal, she fluffed her pillow up against the headboard and rested against it. Mulder made little sounds in his sleep, and she leaned down to kiss his sweet- smelling hair. She knew that as long as he had her to put his arm around, he wouldn't wake until his body had gotten the rest it needed. How convenient for her. Calming the little flutter of excitement in her heart, she started to read the page he'd left open for her. It began, "If ever there was a person who loved another on this earth, Scully, I love you." Her face split into a wide grin. Every book should start out like that. ~~~~~~~~ Epilogue ~~~~~~~~ Mulder's Journal September 30 In the early hours of the morning **If ever there was a person who loved another on this earth, Scully, I love you. I know that the first thing you're going to think when you wake up this morning is that we need to talk. You're right. I love talking to you, Scully, and I'm always amazed that you'll waste your breath talking to someone like me. I can only assume that you thrive on aggravation. You're wondering if what happened last night - well, this morning - was something that happened out of desperation or maybe you dreamed it. Or maybe it's just me, because that's exactly how I'm feeling right now. I'm watching you sleep, and I can't imagine a more beautiful sight than you in slumber, Scully. I'm afraid to join you there, because I don't want to wake up in the morning and discover that I've only dreamed all this. I once read something of yours that you never meant for me to see. So I think it's only fair that you get to read this equivalent, which I hope will put to rest any outstanding fears that you might have about how I feel. I can't imagine that anyone could doubt it, but I've made a royal mess of things when it comes to you. It saddens me to think that of all the people in the world, you're probably the one who needs this confirmation most, because of the things I've said, the things I've done. And I am so sorry about that, Scully. I am so sorry. You once told me, "Believing is the easy part." I didn't agree with you then, but...you were right. Believe that I love you, Scully. It's very, very easy. When this all started, it made so much sense, huh? Well, as much sense as two deluded individuals like us could make. Hey, Scully - you're the logical one, you should have seen through all the smoke. All right, you can let go of the family jewels now - I know it was all my fault. Thinking back it was all so stupid. Like "Three's Company" meets "I Love Lucy." Hmm...does that make sense or only to me because it's almost four in the morning? Can't blame us for our hubris, though, right? We're both reasonably mature, strong-minded, stubborn people. If anyone could make it work out, we could, right? So we set up all those rules, thinking we'd be able to compartmentalize, making each other miserable, when all the while we were in love with each other. God, I like the sound of that. We are in love with each other. So simple. So easy. Luckily for us, rules are made to be broken. And every rule we made was worth breaking, Scully - every single one. But you know what? I'm glad we had to go through all that heartache and pain to make this work. No, hear me out - it's not just middle-of-the-night delirium talking (at least, I don't think so). It made us think about the choices we were making, and whether what we had was worth fighting for. We've come such a long way...and I think we've earned the right to be happy. I'm only going to bed now because I have something to look forward to: waking up next to you. And I know I'd let my heart bleed every last drop of blood that it did these past few months, and re-shed every last tear all over again if it meant being able to wake up next to you for the rest of my life. Because it turns out that I'm a very simple man, Scully, with simple needs. All I need is you by my side. I hope that after you read this, Scully, you won't have any doubts about how I feel about you, how much I ache to hold you close to me and show you all the love in my heart. For now I'll let the words written here speak for me. Promise me you'll wake me when you're done, because no matter how much I seem to be enjoying my sleep, I assure you that I'm dying to wake up and see your smile. Oh, and Scully - I know I've asked a lot of you lately, and I must seem like a pretty greedy guy, but I have one more proposition for you. I'll give you the biggest, brightest, most deliriously happy smile you've ever seen...if you'll wake me with a kiss.** =End Worth Breaking (5/5)= AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, it's finally over! Are you happy? Are you sad? I think I'm a bit of both. Write me and we can celebrate/commiserate with each other!The following thank yous are long but heart-felt; my acknowledgment that I owe many, many people... HUGS AND BESOS FOR: BRANDON, for hunting up all the information on the Yapavai County Sheriff's office, population info on Seligman, and accommodations for Moose and Squirrel during their stay in Arizona. If it weren't for Brandon, they'd have had to camp out in their rented Taurus!! BRYNNA, for her beta work and support. She helped me work out the kinks in a chapter that was really kicking my ass, and for that I am extremely grateful. She always put up with my whining and was nothing but encouraging the whole way through. KATY L., a wonderful RL friend who not only loves me for my obsession despite not being into XF herself (I'm still working on it!!), but even goes the extra ten miles for some kick-ass beta. Words cannot express how much I owe her. MAGDALEINE, for allowing herself to be sucked into my "tawdry little web" and for laughing in all the right places. LIVIA, for her awesome beta work on some of the later chapters. She took over where Ropo left off...and I thank my lucky stars for having such talented writers around me. ROPOBOP, for the uberbeta she is getting famous for - and well-deserved. I shudder to think what this piece would have been without her comments and suggestions. To think of all she did while in the midst of a major move! I genuflect in her presence. She even did =phone= beta! And I used to think I knew the meaning of hotface... Also, I have to thank her for agreeing with Trixie about the HappySecureInTheirLove!Smut, for which it might never have happened. TRIXIE, the Super!Beta for her quick reading and dead-on beta comments. She was a great support and anchor through this endeavor, spending hours helping me out, =and= she let me use her wonderful disclaimer! It was her insistence that there be HappySecureInTheirLove!Smut, and I think I'm finally ready to admit that it was necessary. I think I owe her a Cheesecake Factory. Yes - the whole restaurant. SPECIAL THANKS: For the readers who followed this story from the beginning. They put up with the cliffhanger endings, Mulder and Scully in their most obtuse moments, the real-life writer delays, and still were militant enough to keep reading. Major kudos. It's been a wonderful journey, and I owe it all to you. Thanks everyone for reading! That you spent your time sharing this little universe with me means more than you'll ever know.