Raspberry and Lace - Part 6/10 Summary and disclaimers in Part 1 ***** >>>August 2000 Bellefleur, Oregon Mulder was studying the pictures of Deputy Hoese's scars and wondering how any man could go on living after surviving such torture when a knock sounded on his motel room door. "Who is it?" he asked with a frown. It was well past ten, and he was positive Scully was already asleep. "It's me." His frown deepened as he set the pictures aside and pushed himself off the bed. His mind flashed back to another night, in a different motel but in the same town, almost eight years ago. She had come to his door in a near panic, disrobing in front of him, wearing only her bra and panties, terrified she carried the same mark they had found on several dead twenty-something's. He had been shocked by her trust in him. And humbled. He opened the door to find a woman completely different from the one he had known then. And yet, she hadn't changed at all. "What's wrong, Scully?" Her face was pale and she looked like she was shivering. "You look sick." "I don't know what's wrong," she said. The weakness in her voice scared him. He was constantly watching her health; ever since her cancer, he had felt a need to make sure she was 100% at all times. He stepped aside. "Come in." As she passed him, his mind searched for action. Call a doctor? Get her a glass of water? What did he do? With jerky movements, she walked over and sat on the bed, her body huddled against an adversary he couldn't recognize. "I...uhm," she started. "I was starting to get ready for bed and I started to feel really dizzy. Vertigo or something." Mulder looked down at her, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. "And I just..." she stopped with an invisible shrug. "I started to get chills." Mulder reached past her and began pulling down the covers to his bed. Chills. She was cold. He had to get her warm. "You want me to call a doctor?" He knew what her answer would be before he finished uttering the question. "No. I just...I just want to get warm." She pulled herself up the bed as she said this, welcoming his invitation to get under the covers. He helped her slide her shoes off, then tucked the covers around her as she settled, shivering, facing away from him. The shivers frightened him, but not as much as her behavior. Scully rarely ever told him she was feeling ill. Never had she come to him asking for comfort. Without another thought, he slid onto the bed behind her, on top of the covers, and spooned his body against her. His body heat would help her warm up faster than anything. "Thank you." She turned her face up toward him for a split second before looking away, but it was long enough for him to see the slight embarrassment in her eyes. Yes, she did hate coming to him for help, but he knew she wouldn't have if not for a very good reason. She was scared. And tired of being alone. "It's not worth it, Scully," he whispered into her hair. "What?" she whispered back. "I want you to go home." He meant what he said, though it hurt to say it. "Mulder," she argued, a touch of her normal strength in her voice. "I'm going to be fine." Mulder's heart started beating wildly as he continued, knowing what he was about to say could hurt one of them. Maybe both. "No. No, I've been thinking about it. Looking at you today, holding that baby." The image was still fresh in his mind, that of a mother and the child she would never have. He could have given her that miracle, but it wasn't to be. And he was still angry at Fate for that. "Knowing everything that's been taken from you," he continued. "A chance for motherhood and your health and that baby...I think that...I don't know. Maybe they're right." He breathed her scent in, reveling in it. "Who's right?" "The FBI. Maybe what they say is true, but for all the wrong reasons. It's the personal costs that are too high." He thought of his sister, his father, his mother. Himself. The Mulder curse. All of us dead; or almost dead. But Scully wasn't. "There's so much more you need to do with your life. So much more than this." He reached up with his left hand and brushed her hair away from her cheek. More than aliens. And conspiracies. And him. "There has to be an end, Scully." His was coming soon, though she didn't know it yet. He often wondered if she would hate him after he was gone. With his heart ready to burst, he kissed her softly on the cheek. He could tell she was trying not to cry, but he didn't try to comfort her with words. There was nothing else left to say. He simply held her, noting when her shivers stopped and when her breathing slowed and deepened. A stray thought had him hoping that this was how his end would be, with his own breathing gradually slowing to a stop and her arms around him. But, more than likely, he would be alone in his apartment. Alone. As always. She would come looking for him, and she would find him dead. He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't do that to her! But, how could her tell her? She would set out trying to cure him, just as he had when she had been struck by cancer. And she would die trying. If there was one thing he was determined to do before he died, it was to insure Scully would live. He had tried pushing her away months ago, after he had not only discovered he was dying, but, due to a cruel twist of fate, he had read the mind of the woman who shared his soul. He had learned in those few minutes in her company that she loved him as much or more than he loved her. And he had hated that discovery. She deserved so much more. But he hadn't been able to get her out of his system, and she had gradually wormed her way back into his every thought. Until, in one of the most selfish moments in his selfish life, he had allowed his dreams to become reality, knowing that the nightmare that lay ahead would only be that much harder for her to deal with because of it. Maybe he was wrong. She had left him that night. And pretended nothing had ever happened. That nothing had changed. But it had. Mulder opened his eyes suddenly, realizing it was day. His brain was becoming more and more unstable, his thoughts never still, even in sleep. He lifted his head and looked down at the woman in his arms. He wished he could read her mind now. Suddenly, she sighed and turned underneath his arm, lying on her back. Her blue eyes opened, hazy with sleep, and she smiled. Mulder didn't even hesitate. He lowered his head and claimed her mouth with his. She didn't tense. In fact, her body seemed to melt even further into the bed. Her lips parted and her tongue swept out to meet his. The kiss was slow, deep and wet. And it had Mulder harder than a rock in seconds. He moved over so his body, still separated from hers by both the blankets and their clothing, lay directly over her. Her arms came up to wrap around his back. He pulled away, gasping for air, but attacked her again before she had her own breath back. He moved in on her neck and lower jaw this time, sweeping his tongue along her slightly salty skin. "Muldeeeeeeerrrrr..." she purred. God! He had never heard Scully sound like that before. He began to suck, determined to mark her. Determined to show the world she was his. Her hands suddenly began to push at his shoulders, and his mind began to clear from the haze of desire that shrouded it. 'Fuck, Mulder! You can't give her a hickey!' He pulled back and lifted his head to look at her. She was still pushing at him, and her face had gone pale. "Mulder! Let me up!" He shoved himself away from her and she threw the covers off herself, jumping out of the opposite side of the bed and running for the bathroom. He jumped up and followed her. He found her kneeling over the toilet, vomiting what little food she had managed to eat yesterday. Carefully, he kneeled behind her and brought her hair away from her sweaty face, rubbing his hand along the back of her neck. Trying to soothe the violent upheavals her body was forcing upon her. Finally, they subsided, and she sat upright slowly. He rose and filled a plastic cup with water from the sink. She took it gratefully, not meeting his eyes. "You know, I've gotten a lot of different reactions from women when I kissed them, but nothing like that." She looked up, startled by his words. Then she smiled. "Well, I'm glad to be the unique one of the bunch," she said, her voice steady. "Oh, you are," Mulder smiled back. "Always have been."<<< She had still refused to go to the doctor, and had seemed fine after a shower and change of clothes. She had even managed to choke down some food. They had left Oregon when they could turn up no proof of a spaceship, and she had still appeared normal. Two days later, he would go back to Oregon. And lose six months of his life. With what he knew now, he realized that her 'sickness' had been caused by her pregnancy. A pregnancy neither of them had even known about at the time. How ironic, him telling her it wasn't worth it, when there, in that same bed, a tiny life glowed inside her womb. A child. His child. He had to believe that. The sound of a car door slamming jerked him out of his contemplation, and he rose and headed out of the room and down the stairs. When he reached the bottom, Special Agent Monica Reyes walked through the front door. She smiled when she saw him. "Agent Mulder!" "Agent Reyes," he nodded, his greeting more reserved than her own. Still smiling, she reached up and touched her hair. "So, why exactly did Agent Scully want me to lighten my hair?" "Come with me, Agent, and I'll tell you all about it." ***** >>>February 2001 It was working. Or so the doctors told her. She had yet to see any physical sign that Mulder was getting better. But the treatments of anti-virals, combined with the cold-therapy, seemed to be ridding the man laying before her of the horrible invader his body had been succumbing to. He still looked like hell, though. She lowered herself next to his bed, reaching for his cold hand, her eyes searching his face. Her mind flashed back to a time when he had done the same for her several years earlier. He had never known that she had been aware of his presence that night; she had never told him. She had seen and felt so many things while unconscious in the hospital after her return, but she remembered his final visit with more clarity than the rest. He had held her hand for what seemed like only a few minutes, but in actuality had been hours. And she remembered what he had told her: "I don't know if my being here will make a difference. But I'm here." Silently, she told him the same thing. His hand twitched. Startled, she looked at his face. His lips moved, and she could see his eyeballs move under his lids. She pressed forward into the bed. "Mulder?" she whispered. He heard her. His eyes fluttered open and he turned his face toward her. She saw pain, confusion and exhaustion in his eyes, which were amazingly clear. "Hi," she said with a smile. She saw recognition flare in the hazel depths, which was why she felt confusion fill her at his first words. "Who are you?" Scully felt her breathing stop and her heart contract. He didn't remember? Her? The X-Files? Her smile faded as she tried to think of something to say that wouldn't frighten him. Then she noticed how the corners of his mouth tilted up. "Oh, my God!" she gasped, her tears falling freely though she was now smiling. She ducked her head. "Don't do that to me!" she exclaimed. If he had been well enough, she would have smacked him. At the same time, she was more than happy he had made a joke immediately upon awakening; it meant his mind was intact. She looked up and was nearly floored by the look in his eyes. He had stopped smiling and was watching her with something she could only describe as pure and absolute love. The kind everyone dreams of having, and only a few ever have the joy of knowing. She bit her bottom lip. "Do you know...?" she started, the frog in her throat catching her. "Do you have any idea what you've been through?" His eyes became clouded with concern and confusion. "Only what I see in your face." He furrowed his brow, his eyes suddenly questioning. But the question never materialized. Scully reached out and brushed his hair away from his face, reveling in the warmth that was emanating from his abused skin. No questions now. He would know everything soon enough. She laid her head down on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Steady. Strong. Alive. "Anybody miss me?" His question made her laugh, which was answer enough. She had missed him. And she was going to make sure he knew it. Her eye caught sight of a figure in the door, and she raised her head slightly to see him better. Doggett. He looked embarrassed. Guilty. And...jealous? Without a word, he backed out of the room. Scully lowered her head again. They had found Mulder. Doggett's job was done. Or was it?<<< Scully sat up suddenly on the couch in front of the TV, where she had been carelessly flipping though the channels with the remote before falling into a doze. She continued with her surfing, stopping for a moment at the Country Music channel, but the video that had attracted her attention was ending and she moved on. The baby gave a kick, as if to tell her he/she was bored, and Scully brought her hand down and rubbed the area with a slight grimace. "I know," she said softly. "I'm tired of just sitting around, too. But it's best for both of us, right now." "Who you talkin' to?" Scully jumped at Doggett's question and turned her head to glare at him. "Would you quit that! I'm not nearly as alert as I used to be." She turned back to the TV. "Sneaking up on expectant mothers when they are so close to their due date isn't very intelligent, you know." "You are a full month away from your due date, Agent Scully," Doggett responded with a wry grin. "I don't think I have anything to worry about." "Don't be so sure," she responded without looking at him. He immediately became concerned. "Scully? You okay? No cramps or anything, I hope." She looked at him again as he seated himself on the couch next to her and saw the controlled panic in his eyes. She smiled. "Don't worry, Doggett. I'm not going into labor anytime soon." He breathed a sigh of relief, then turned to look at the TV. Scully had stopped, accidentally, on the Playboy Channel. Her eyebrows immediately shot up. "Why, Agent Doggett! I'm shocked." She looked at him in time to see his ears redden. Giggling, she turned the TV off and turned her massive body toward him. "Don't worry. I don't think less of you. How can I when Mulder's tastes are similar." This time, Doggett's eyebrows rose. "Ahh. You knew about his videos, then?" Doggett had been in charge of the search of Mulder's apartment after his disappearance seven months ago, so he knew a lot about the other agent. Things Mulder probably wished he didn't. "I was the one that gave them to Frohike after the funeral." Mention of the funeral always brought back memories of the nightmare directly after it, and she felt her head begin to pound. "Not that I didn't know about them long before then." She smiled slightly. "It's just one of the many habits that make him who he is." "And who he is is someone you love." It wasn't a question. Scully looked up at the man sitting next to her. "You think I'm crazy, don't you? Loving someone as paranoid and single minded as Mulder." "So you admit it?" She sighed. "Yeah. I guess I do." Her eyes narrowed and she frowned at him. "There's something about you, Doggett, that makes me talk more than I should. I can't decide whether to hate you for it, or thank you." Doggett didn't smile. "You should tell him," he said. "What makes you think he doesn't already know?" "Oh, maybe because he's so paranoid and single-minded." He grinned. "Look, I don't presume to know what Mulder thinks or feels, but I know his history with you. The professional part, anyway. And I know that you two are close." He looked serious once again. "But even I can feel the tension between you two. Tension that wouldn't be there if you were both certain of your standing in each others lives." He shrugged. "You've known him for years. You've been friends, you've saved each other's asses, you've been more than willing to die for each other. But you're not allowing yourselves to open up to each other." He reached over and placed his hand gently on her belly. "Don't you think you should before this little guy makes an appearance?" The ache in Scully's head increased sharply. "How..." She cleared her throat. "How do you know all that?" "I'm psychic." She just glared at him. "All right." He leaned back again. "The truth is you said a lot of things back when you went ballistic four months ago. Things I had no right hearing." He took a deep breath. "But I did." "Was that before or after I started throwing things?" "During, actually." They grinned at each other. Then Scully turned away. "He knows I love him, John." She was aware of how he tensed; she had never called him by his first name before. "He knows, and it scares him." "I think it scares you, too." She nodded. "He doesn't think he's good enough for me..." "He's right." "...but, I'm not worthy of his love." "Bullshit." Scully turned to him again. "Don't you see? He's so passionate. So powerful. He needs someone whose soul is as strong as his is. As beautiful." She shook her head. "I've always been afraid that I'll lose myself in him. That I'll drown. Willingly." She paused, thinking to herself that maybe she already had lost herself in him; hadn't her breakdown after his 'death' been proof? Doggett was shaking his head now. "No way. You are more than a match for him. Your spirit is just as strong, just as beautiful. I've only seen you together a few times, but I've read how the two of you solved your cases. By being equals. By listening to each others thoughts and ideas. Even when you disagreed with each other, you were always headed in the same direction. You were just on different paths. And you always started and ended your journeys together." The corners of his mouth twitched. "I have a feeling that's what it's like in your personal relationship, too." Scully bit her lower lip, holding her sudden tears at bay. "When did you become such a great psychotherapist?" Doggett laughed. "Hey, I tell it as I see it." Movement behind them caused them both to turn their heads. A sleepy looking Charlie walked into the room. "Hey. Any word?" Scully shook her head. "No. Both Mulder and Reyes are as bored as we are." "Bored?!" Doggett sat up straight. "You guys are bored? In my house? We can't have that!" He stood and headed for his office, returning not a minute later carrying a board game. "How much you want to bet I can beat both of you at Trivial Pursuit." Charlie and Scully groaned, but then settled down to distract themselves for as long as possible. Scully's mind, however, refused to concentrate on the game. It kept wandering back to Doggett's words. Suddenly, she was very anxious to talk to Mulder. ***** End 6/10