Author : Eve Whiting

E-mail : fishadam@hotmail.com

Category : MSR, A, H

Spoilers : Heavily 6th season, but general knowledge is required

Summary : Mulder and Scully have to go undercover

Feedback : Will be loved to the point of obsession

Disclaimer : Don't own them. Wish I did.

Notes : Sorry if the British spellings annoy you.

Dedication : To Fish, you know why

Highschool Blues II

John Donne: The Ecstacy.

by John Donne

WHERE, like a pillow on a bed,

A pregnant bank swell'd up, to rest

The violet's reclining head,

Sat we two, one another's best.

Our hands were firmly cemented

By a fast balm, which thence did spring ;

Our eye-beams twisted, and did thread

Our eyes upon one double string.

So to engraft our hands, as yet

Was all the means to make us one ;

And pictures in our eyes to get

Was all our propagation.

As, 'twixt two equal armies, Fate

Suspends uncertain victory,

Our souls—which to advance their state,

Were gone out—hung 'twixt her and me.

And whilst our souls negotiate there,

We like sepulchral statues lay ;

All day, the same our postures were,

And we said nothing, all the day.

If any, so by love refined,

That he soul's language understood,

And by good love were grown all mind,

Within convenient distance stood,

He—though he knew not which soul spake,

Because both meant, both spake the same—

Might thence a new concoction take,

And part far purer than he came.

This ecstasy doth unperplex

(We said) and tell us what we love ;

We see by this, it was not sex ;

We see, we saw not, what did move :

But as all several souls contain

Mixture of things they know not what,

Love these mix'd souls doth mix again,

And makes both one, each this, and that.

A single violet transplant,

The strength, the colour, and the size—

All which before was poor and scant—

Redoubles still, and multiplies.

When love with one another so

Interanimates two souls,

That abler soul, which thence doth flow,

Defects of loneliness controls.

We then, who are this new soul, know,

Of what we are composed, and made,

For th' atomies of which we grow

Are souls, whom no change can invade.

But, O alas ! so long, so far,

Our bodies why do we forbear?

They are ours, though not we ; we are

Th' intelligences, they the spheres.

We owe them thanks, because they thus

Did us, to us, at first convey,

Yielded their senses' force to us,

Nor are dross to us, but allay.

On man heaven's influence works not so,

But that it first imprints the air ;

For soul into the soul may flow,

Though it to body first repair.

As our blood labours to beget

Spirits, as like souls as it can ;

Because such fingers need to knit

That subtle knot, which makes us man ;

So must pure lovers' souls descend

To affections, and to faculties,

Which sense may reach and apprehend,

Else a great prince in prison lies.

To our bodies turn we then, that so

Weak men on love reveal'd may look ;

Love's mysteries in souls do grow,

But yet the body is his book.

And if some lover, such as we,

Have heard this dialogue of one,

Let him still mark us, he shall see

Small change when we're to bodies gone.

Kensington High

Wednesday 10 am

Scully had really been trying concentrate, but it was so damn hard. Actually she was quite proud of herself. She reasoned that it was quite an accomplishment to think of the previous night’s activities only once every ten seconds.

He was wearing his glasses. It was a wonder she’d managed to stay in her seat without squirming.

She had known that today was going to be difficult. That it was going to be the litmus test of their new relationship. She just hadn’t realised how much of a sadist Mulder was, until he had walked into class.

Judging by the rest of the class’ reactions though, she was definitely not the only one who had felt the immediate temperature rise when he’d walked in the door. Nearly all of the girls, and a couple of the boys, jaws were waging a fierce battle with gravity. If someone could have harnessed the electricity in the room, the energy crisis would have been a thing of the past. This was the first time that he was taking Scully’s English class, and to say that he wasn’t what they had been expecting would have been a gross understatement.

Mulder began the lesson, once the murmurs had died down. There was no formal introduction, rather, he slowly began reciting the poem, using only his voice to capture and hold his class.

It wasn’t a hard task. Mulder would have been embarrassed, however, to know that most of it was due to him, rather than the evocative language of Donne.

For Scully it was both.

Mulder, standing there, looking like any co-eds wet dream. Looking straight at her, reading the poem that he had recited to her last night after they made love for the third time. Only Mulder would be coherent enough to recite Donne, after the most intense love-making she had ever experienced .

But it was the perfect poem for them. It was a map of their relationship. From it’s embryonic stages, to completion.

"…and we said nothing, all the day." That was the first thing she heard , once she managed to re-focus her attention on the actual class being given.

Scully felt the impact of those words, and knew that Mulder had as well. Her greatest regret was that they had waited so long, thinking that they were hiding it so well. The only ones that had been fooled were themselves.

He looked directly at her for the first time, and she saw regret mirrored in his eyes.

The poem’s vein, then changed. Spiritual fulfillment, changed to physical fulfillment. Giving up any pretense of listening to the rest of Mulder’s lesson, Scully sat back and remembered the night before

She had been reveling in the feel of his heart against hers when Mulder had whispered this part to her "…So must pure lovers’ soul descend to affections, and to faculties, which sense may reach and apprehend, else a great prince in prison lies."

They had lain silent for a while, when Mulder had broken the silence.

"In other words Scully, this is right. We would have lost so much if we hadn’t taken this chance."

She kissed him, long and deeply, hoping to convey, what she could find no words for.

Obviously she succeeded. Looking at Mulder, she saw him smile at her, in a way he had only done once before in Antarctica.

It was an amazing feeling to have that intense love all focused on her. Scully reveled in it, remembering a time, when she had wondered what it would be like to have all that passion that he devoted to any case, focused on her. She knew now. And how.

Mulder had been watching Scully closely while reading the poem out, seeing if it had its intended reaction. It had. But Scully was not the only one who had been affected by the memories.

He thanked God for his ability to listen to someone or something, while thinking of something completely different. It was a skill he had honed under Kersh, one of the only good things that had come out of that exile.

To the other students of the class, it looked like he was listening intently to what each of them had to say about the poem. Anyone who knew Mulder, would have told them, that his mind was on other things. Very pleasant things, far removed from the classroom.

Actually not so far, in fact only two rows from the front of the desk.

He knew what she was remembering, and felt an inordinate amount of pride knowing that he had placed that dreamy expression on her face. It was childish, not to say rather Neanderthal, to be thinking that way, but he couldn’t help it.

It was a guy thing.

It was also hard trying to concentrate on a teaching a class, when he had Scully directly in front of him, looking straight out of one of his countless fantasies about her.

No.798 if he remembered correctly.

Sitting there, in her dark blue sweater, which made her eyes a deep sapphire, and those jeans, which moulded to her form, making him wish that school was over for the day, so they could get home.

There she sat with a sweet, dirty smile on her face. In was all he could do not to jump her then and there.

Before he could let his mind further wander down that avenue, the bell rang for the end of class.

"Are there any questions?" Mulder asked.

With that a bevy of hormonal teenagers surrounded him, all so patently obvious, that Mulder was hard-pressed not to laugh. It would have been flattering, if it wasn’t so embarrassing. He just knew that Scully was watching, and would have some something to say.

Despite that, he answered all questions patiently, giving each of his worshippers a level of attention, that had them floating on cloud nine for the rest of the day.

Scully watched this from the back of the class with a small smile on her face. She was impressed by how well Mulder managed all his youthful admirers. How he commanded respect from his class, while maintaining an approachability that few teachers could combine.

She found herself wondering yet again, what Mulder would have done if Samantha hadn’t been abducted. She had always thought that he would have been an excellent teacher. He imparted knowledge with such passion, that you couldn’t help being enthralled.

On their very first case, he had challenged her mind in a way no one had ever done before. From that first meeting in the basement she had been hooked. She had known it as he had walked out the door, reminding her to be ‘bright and early’.

She was so deep in thought, that she didn’t realize that she could finally speak to him, since all his fans had left for their next classes.

"Ms Barrett, is there something you’d like to talk about?" It took a second to remember that for as long as they were on assignment she was no longer Dana Scully, but Christina Barrett (a combination of her two favourite poets, Christina Rosetti and Elizabeth Barrett-Browning ).

Mulder couldn’t help laughing when he saw the look of confusion on her face.

He had continued watching Scully despite having to answer questions. He wondered what she had been thinking of so deeply, but knew that if important she would tell him. God, it felt good knowing she wouldn’t try to hide behind ‘I’m fines’ anymore.

Turning around to answer him, she smiled a distinctly non-schoolgirl smile, walked right up to him and stood in the cradle of his legs.

"Well I was just going to say I’ve become more passionate about poetry since taking your class."

"I’m glad that you feel that. Inspiring passion is the sign of a good teacher you know."

"Oh you’re a very good teacher, the best I’ve ever had."

" Well, if you ever want any extra help, I’m sure that we could arrange some extra classes"

"I was thinking more along the lines of private tuition actually."

"Even better. I work best in a one-on-one atmosphere."

They were whispering, to each other, despite the fact they were the only two people in the room, and Scully was only a few inches away from Mulder’s mouth.

As Scully moved to close the distance, there was a knock on the door.

"Shit" they muttered together, quickly separating.

"Yes, come in." Mulder called out, desperately trying to get make into his teacher-mode.

A young boy came in, hesitantly, as if unsure of his reception.

"Excuse me Mr Byron…" - Mulder grimaced when he heard his undercover name. Scully had warned him that next time she’d be picking the names, but he hadn’t thought that she would make him suffer this much. Jesus, George Byron. And he had thought Fox was the worst you could get.

"…I was wondering if you did tuition? "

He turned when he heard a stifled sound coming from Scully. It sounded like a snort, cough and sneeze all combined in one.

"Sorry," she managed " chalk dust."

The boy looked at her strangely for a minute more then turned his attention back to Mulder, who had by this time got his silent laughter under control.

Looking at the boy closely , Mulder felt his amusement dry up. He knew the look, that was drawn across the boy’s face. That haunted, hunted expression. He had worn it for a long time after Samantha had gone. He knew there was only one thing that caused it. He wondered who brought this look to the boy’s face.

" I know that I’m not in your English class, but I really need some help and Ms Smithson’s too busy. So can you Mr Byron? Please. If I don’t do well in this class, my average will go down and my dad will ki… Anyway can you?"

Scully noticed Mulder’s face hardening as the boy made his stumbling half-confession. She knew what was going through his mind. That he was no longer seeing the boy in front of him, but rather, seeing himself at fourteen. Desperate for a father’s approval, willing to take any sort of penance for a sin he did not commit.

She saw him lock those thoughts down, and focus on the boy in front of him. Saw his face soften, and his stance become inviting. It wasn’t because he was a trained psychologist, or that he was a profiler, it was because he was Mulder, and he didn’t even have to think about it.

Scully knew the incredible load that Mulder was carrying. He was doing two jobs at once. That of a teacher, and an of head profiler on the case. She also knew there was no way that Mulder was going to refuse his help to the diffident boy in front of him.

"What’s you name?" he asked gently

"Oh I’m sorry it’s Ben, Ben Pearce."

"Well Ben, how about we make it three times a week during lunch". Mulder didn’t look at Scully when making the arrangements. He knew she’d be pissed at him for picking the only time he actually got a break.

Scully had made him promise that since he was putting in such long hours, he had to take a at least a one hour rest. He had said he would use the lunch hour to catch some r&r.

"Sure sir, that would be great."

"On one condition though." Mulder stated firmly

"Uh what?" Ben asked a little anxiously

"That you only call me sir in public." He answered with a grin.

"What should I call you then?"

"Call me M… George, ok ?"

Ben nodded enthusiastically.

"Can we start today sir, I mean …George?"

"Sure. Now you’d better get to your next class before you get into trouble."

Ben sped off after thanking Mulder repeatedly. When he was gone Mulder stood staring at the door for a while.

"I know, don’t say it." He said without turning around.

"What?"

"I should have said no. I mean I should be concentrating on finding this killer, and nothing else"

"I wasn’t going to say that actually" Scully said quietly, walking up behind him.

"Sorry, what were you going to say?" he asked, finally turning around.

"I love you. So much."

He smiled , walked into her arms, and rested his head on her shoulder.

"Thank you," he murmured, "thank you."

They stayed like that for a long time. Neither wanting to break the peace. Only when the bell went signifying the end of recess, did Mulder let go.

"I’ll see you at headquarters after school ok?"

She nodded, kissing him gently, before heading of to her next class. Once again he found himself thanking a God he had stopped believing in, for gifting him with Dana Scully.

**********************************************************************************

FBI Headquarters

5:00pm

"WHAT? YOU FUCKING BASTARD, I’M GOING TO KILL YOU. " A voice thundered, making everyone look up from their work.

Suddenly there were fewer agents who wanted to cross paths with Spooky. That was the ASAC he was yelling at. Either he was out of his mind, or ASAC Houston had really managed to fuck up.

No one was too surprised at that. How that man had become ASAC was worthy of Spooky’s infamous X-Files themselves. Common consensus was it was because his uncle had been the former Director.

Though they could hear a heated argument, they couldn’t discern the actual words. Denied this fresh excitement, they resorted to the next favorite pastime. Mulder-bashing. So animated was the discussion, that no one noticed Scully entering the room.

Usually she had no time to listen to office chatter, but when she heard her partner’s nickname being bandied about she became all ears.

"…wonder if Spooky’s gonna get tossed this time."

"No way. For some reason, no matter what the shit does, he doesn’t lose his job. You know I heard that he punched out A.D Skinner once and nothing was done."

"God , why the hell don’t they chuck him in the loony bin where he belongs."

"Been there, done that. Heard they actually had him in restraints once."

"Well I bet Mrs Spooky loved that one."

The guffaws and ribald comments came to an abrupt stop, when one of the agents saw that Scully was standing directly behind them.

"Excuse me," she said in a tone she reserved mostly for Consortium slime "I’d like to get though."

The speed at which a path was made was reminiscent of Moses parting the Red Sea . Scully quickly headed towards the office at the end of the room, wondering what the hell had happened.

Opening the door, she knew that she had come not a minute too soon.

Mulder looked about two seconds away from sculpting Houston a new face. He was leaning dangerously over him, and talking in a tone she that actually frightened her.

" Did you tell Skinner this? Don’t even think of lying to me or so help me God I’ll…"

Scully thought it wise to intervene at that point .

"Mulder what’s going on?"

Hearing her voice Mulder whipped around to face her. So fast in fact, he had no time to mask what he was feeling.

Scully gasped involuntarily when she saw his expression.

On the surface, there was anger, but what really shocked her was the blank terror that hid just underneath. When he didn’t say anything, she asked him again .

Slowly she saw him collect himself, losing the look that had frightened her so much.

"It seems Scully, that we weren’t given all the pieces."

"What?"

"I mean that ASAC Houston saw fit not to mention something to AD Skinner when he asked for us on this case."

Scully turned to Houston when she heard that.

"What Mulder, what’s going on?"

"ASAC Houston made sure that we did not have the entire picture, not even Skinner."

"Mulder for God’s sake stop being cryptic and tell me."

"They all had red hair Scully."

"What?"

"The victims. They all had red hair." He ended in a whisper. Without caring who saw, Mulder walked up to her, and held her in a tight embrace. For his comfort, as much as for hers.

Scully felt the intense need to throw up. Bait, that’s why they had been asked for. Not because they were excellent agents. Not because Mulder was still the best profiler in the VCU. No, it was because of her fucking hair colour.

Though not wanting to leave his arms, Scully moved away from Mulder and turned to Houston, who was still backed against his chair.

"Why did no one know about this?"

"I had it omitted because of the press."

"Don’t even think of using that excuse. The only reason you called was, was to use us as bait, wasn’t it?"

"Listen to me Agent Scully, don’t think that you can intimidate me. Just because the two of you are so chummy with AD Skinner doesn’t mean that the rest of us don’t have some sway. AD Skinner was not informed about the victims hair colour on my authority, since I knew that he wouldn’t send you two down otherwise. Why is it that he takes such an interest in you two anyway. What favours does he get in return Agent Scully?"

The fragile hold Mulder had over his temper snapped at that moment. He lunged for the ASAC intent on killing him, when Scully’s voice cut through the murderous haze fogging his brain.

"Don’t Mulder" she said sharply "don’t, it’s not worth it."

For a moment she was unsure if Mulder would listen to her or not, then she saw him take a step back . She gently put her hand on his arm, and unconsciously started stroking it.

"C’mon Mulder, you should get some rest."

But Mulder shook her off and moved towards Houston.

"You’re finished," he whispered bitingly "no amount of uncles can save you this time. If you fucked J Edgar himself it wouldn’t make a difference. I’m am going to see to it personally that you won’t even be able to get a job as a security guard at Wal-Mart. Before you go I want every single piece of information on this case, you hear. So help me God, if there is even one comma missing, I will hold you accountable."

Without saying another word he ushered Scully out of the office, and out of the building. Neither of them noticed that when Scully had gone into the ASAC’s room she had left the door open. All the other agents stood silent some with mouths agape, and some with grins. None of them had been fond of Houston. He was a bully, and a lousy agent. They were also shocked at what he had done to Mulder and Scully. It was fine to mouth off about them, everyone did. But to actually place them in serious jeopardy, that was something totally different. Agents protected each other. They had to.

In using them as bait Houston had signed his professional death warrant. They were also amazed by the show Mulder and Scully had put on for them. They had all had their suspicions that the partnership went far beyond professional, but until the scene in Houston’s office, none had been exactly sure where the lines were.

They had their answer. There weren’t any. Not a single person in the room had any doubt of that. Soon most of the agents were adding their names to an infamous office pool, eager for some easy cash.

************************************************************************************************

Kensington Ave

Mulder and Scully’s house

6:00pm

Judging by the way Mulder had been studiously avoiding her gaze on the trip back to their house, Scully had a feeling she knew what was coming next. So to save a lot of time, she cut him off at the knees. It wasn’t for nothing, that she had graduated top in her Strategic Planning Class in Quantico.

"Don’t even think about it Mulder." She said in a no-nonsense tone.

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand her.

"Please Scully, please. Look we didn’t have all the details before. It’s not fair to ask you to…"

"Mulder, we got screwed," Scully interrupted "we were lied to, and Houston nearly managed to screw the case completely, by playing his little games. But the fact of the matter is he’s gone and we’re here, and we’re committed to finishing this case. We have to. Lives depend upon it. So don’t even think, that you’re going to get me to back away. "

"Scully please. There is a monumental difference between solving a case and becoming fucking bait. " He yelled at her.

"What are you yelling at me for?" she yelled back, surprised at his sudden anger " What the hell is wrong with you anyway?"

"What’s wrong with me? I tell you what’s wrong, I’m terrified. I’m fucking terrified." He had started out shouting, but ended in a whisper.

As quickly as her anger had sprung up, Scully felt it abate.

"Mulder don’t, please." She said gently.

"Why you Scully? Why does it always have to be you?"

Raising her hand to his face she tenderly brushed away the one tear that had tracked down his cheek.

"I’m just so tired of all of this Scully." He murmured brokenly.

"Mulder, is this because of us? Is this why your feeling like this, suddenly?" Scully had not wanted to ask the question, but she had to know.

That drew a humorless laugh from him.

"Suddenly. There’s nothing sudden about this. I’ve always felt like this. I just hid it. But we promised each other that we’d be honest, so I’m telling you now Scully. Every time, every single fucking time that you’ve been in danger, I felt my heart tear. I know that sounds so fucking cheesy, I cringe when I hear myself say it, but it’s the only description that fits the bill. That’s why I ditch you so much. I know you think it’s because of some mis-guided patriarchal, paternalistic streak in me, but the truth is that it’s really my sense of self-preservation. I can’t bear to see you hurt Scully. I just can’t. I’d die before I’d let something happen to you. I’m sorry but there it is ."

Mulder had refused to look at Scully the whole time. It was hard enough for him to confess his deepest weakness to Scully, doing so to her face was just too hard.

Scully found herself crying. She refused to hide her tears, there was no need to anymore. Mulder had awed her with the level of honesty he had just shown her, and she felt compelled to do the same.

"Thank you Mulder." Was all she could say though, in a voice thick with tears.

Mulder looked up. He hadn’t expected that. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but gratitude wasn’t on the list.

"No one," she finally managed to get out through the tears, "no one has ever said anything like that before to me, ever. Thank you for loving me the way you do. I wish I could say more, I wish I could let you know -as you have with me- just how much I love you, but I can’t. I can promise you though, that I will spend the rest of my life trying to show you."

Wasting no more time, Scully cupped his chin, raising his face to hers and kissed him.

Whispering ‘I love you’ repeatedly against his mouth, as she tried to tell just how much she did love him. She succeeded, for suddenly she felt Mulder returning her kiss with a neediness he had never allowed himself to show before.

Without breaking the kiss he moved the both to the couch, pulling her under him.

When they finally broke the kiss, Mulder continued to pepper soft little kisses all over her face and chest, talking the whole time.

"Until I met you…I had never needed… anything…anyone… But I need you Scully…like I need air."

"Then show me." she said moving her face so it was level with his. "Show me."

Looking down at her, Mulder saw everything he was feeling reflected in her eyes.

"I have never loved anyone, no one, as much as I love you."

"Show me." She said once again.

Not able to wait any longer, he did as she said.

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