Homeostasis by Johnie Disclaimer: Oh, if only, but no, I own nothing that could make money in syndication and merchandising while I sunned myself on a beach in St. Lucia. Rating: NC-17 Category: MSR Spoilers: Momento Mori, pilot, Sum Zero, Paper Hearts, The Field Where I Died Summary: Mulder deals with Scully's disappearance. Sequel to In My End is My Beginning and Katabasis. You don't have to read them first, but what else I am going to say, I wrote them and I think you should. Comments: If you have any, to JohnieRed@aol.com By the way, shame, shame on you ignorant masses, not one of you has known where the title for this series comes from. December 1998 Walter Skinner tapped the end of his Mont Blanc pen against the yellow legal pad on his desk. He was at a loss, a complete and utter loss of how to handle the situation at hand. His office still had the faint lingering odor of cigarette smoke and his mouth the taste of bitter resignation. He had loaned out part of his freedom in exchange for a cure for Dana Scully's cancer eighteen months ago and now the marker was being called in. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to do what they had asked, anymore than he knew how they had cured Agent Scully. After years of trying to close it down, they wanted the X-files project reopened. They wanted Fox Mulder back in the Bureau and they didn't care how Skinner got him there. The problem was Skinner had no idea where Mulder had gone after his sister Samantha's body had been identified and his mother died. Skinner had gone to Agent Scully's apartment hoping she would know, only to find her gone after resigning from her teaching position at Quantico. He had even gone to her mother's; she had claimed not to know were her daughter was. He sighed. He didn't want this to come back to bite him any more than it already had but he didn't see a way out and he didn't want the consortium looking for Mulder and Scully themselves. That precluded locating the former partners through conventional channels. He thought if he did the foot work on his own, his unsavory partners were less likely to find out where they were and get to them first. ****** Dana Scully walked down Newbury St. in Boston's Back Bay. She was Christmas shopping after having corrected final exams for the classes she began teaching mid-semester for a professor who went on maternity leave. She found she enjoyed teaching at Tufts Medical School and was pleased they had asked her to return and teach several classes for the spring semester. Living in Boston was comforting. She had decided to retreat to the New England city after confronting Mulder because she had known he lived in there as a young child and thought it would help her feel close to him. It did. It was good to be in places he might have been to before everything began to unravel in his life. She hoped he would return here, to her, to reweave it. Now all there was for her to do was wait, and she had promised herself she would wait until summer before making any major decisions about what to do with the rest of the life she hadn't thought she would have. She had an excellent oncologist at New England Medical Center and he had twice reported no traces of cancer. Dana found she still tired easily though, and decided to head home, promising herself there would be no more thoughts of Mulder that day. He would seek her out or he wouldn't. Either way he had until June. ************** Mulder had spent the month after Scully's visit to his Montreal apartment in shock. He rode endlessly on the Metro, around and around with no particular destiny in mind, just to think. Her arrival and actions had all been aimed to show him she understood, understood his desperation the first night they had been together, understood his need to heal alone. It wasn't just her understanding that occupied his thoughts, it was her ability to communicate to him, without having said more than a simple statement that she had felt the same way. I need you. The words echoed in his head, his words, her words. Did he feel strong enough to risk his newfound peace of mind for a chance at happiness? Yes, he decided. Dana was part of him and the only thing left that could hurt him was her pain. When the weekend finally came, he had flown to Washington and found out she had resigned from the Bureau and moved. The Lone Gunmen office had been his second stop after her apartment. Byers had been surprisingly open. "Of course, I know where Dana is, Mulder. I spoke to her last week," he replied to Mulder's inquiry. "Dana? You call her Dana?" he was speechless. Agent Scully hadn't liked the Gunman particularly, it seemed things had changed. "Well, Mulder, a lot changed while you were away. Dana is a good friend. In the last year she spent a lot of time with us, she even wrote an article for the Gunman newsletter last summer." "On what topic?" was all he could think to ask. "Mulder," Byers had reproached, "surely you didn't fly down from Montreal to discuss back issues of our newsletter." "How did you know I came from Montreal?" "We've been tracking you for the past ten months." "You've been what?" Mulder couldn't believe how forthcoming Byers was. Usually it took several thinly veiled threats alternated with begging to get this kind of non-conspiracy related information out of him. Byers sighed, he had been honest with Dana when she had come to him in this situation and he didn't want to be any less so with Mulder. "After you disappeared, Dana was worried to the point she was making herself ill. I met with her several times, always refusing to tell her anything. All I told her I was sure you'd be back in a couple of months. I refused to meet with her after that until she called to tell me she had resigned her field agent status and the X-files division had been closed. Then I realized there must be a reason she was so sure you weren't coming back. When I asked her about it, she told me she had figured out about the genetic records; she knew William Mulder wasn't your father. I still refused to confirm anything but she finally convinced me you were in worse shape than I thought, and that I needed to confide in her and insist her in finding you. We traced you the Navajo Nation, to Montana, lost track of you twice, and then you turned up in Montreal. At that time Dana decided to make contact." Curious, because he knew Byers could not be easily swayed, Mulder asked, "What did she say to convince you?" Byers stroked his beard for a moment, not knowing whether or not Mulder wanted to hear that he knew such an intimate detail of his life, but although this man was different from the Mulder he had known, Byers doubted his passion for the truth was any less so he answered, "She told me that you were lovers. Lovers for just one night and that you had left in the morning before she woke." If Mulder had any doubts about reentering Dana Scully's life before, they were gone now. She had told Byers, she had used the word lovers, despite the fact that what they had done had less to do with love and more to do with a sort of animalistic lust. She hadn't been hurt, angry or ashamed. She had looked for him, watching him to insure he was okay but had respected him enough to give him the time to heal alone. Mulder nodded, "So where is she?" "Boston, teaching pathophysiology and cell biology at Tufts Medical," Byers answered. "Thanks, Byers. I'll call you when we have everything worked out." Byers smiled at the stress on and deliberate use of when, instead of if. ****** Mulder returned to Montreal and then flew to Boston as soon he finished grading his students' final papers. Byers had given him her office number and address but he hadn't wanted to show up at the University. Once he arrived in Boston it had only taken a day for him to track Dana's home address down, when he arrived she wasn't home so he followed her example and picked the lock. He was nervous as hell, sitting in her living room waiting for her to return when he heard the front door open. ****** She was standing in the entry hall, shuffling shopping bags and boxes, and shrugging her coat off. She threw her keys onto the Victorian card table in the hallway and bit down on the loose leather at the top of her right index finger to pull a glove off with her teeth. She repeated the gesture with her left hand, while she unlaced her boots with the other. It was the most erotic thing he had ever seen. He had rehearsed a thousands things to say but somehow all that came out of his mouth was, "Hello, Dana." She froze in shock, not looking up from her boot laces. Oh, please don't let me be imagining his voice this time, she thought. She looked up to see him sprawled casually on her couch as though he had spoken to her yesterday and agreed to meet her. "Aren't you happy to see me?" he asked wryly, taking in her blank expression. Dana smiled, standing in the doorway, "Why did you come?" "Dana, you know why I'm here," he said, crossing the room and reaching down to pull her into his arms. "I'm here," he whispered in her ear, "because I'm not afraid anymore. He pulled back to kiss her briefly, "I lov-" "Don't say it," she whispered, silencing him with a kiss, "you don't need to. You never have." They lay on the couch necking like teenagers for an hour, then Dana napped in Mulder's arms. He was content to stay awake watching her breath, feeling her warmth, smelling the apple blossom scent from her hair, just feeling her presence beside him. When she awoke, she was hungry and he offered to make her dinner. "Well, I don't know..." she said, walking to the kitchen. "Why Dana Scully, you closet sexist, you don't think a man can cook," he said, trying to keep a straight face. "Mulder, your gender isn't the issue. You forget, I've seen what you eat and no one who could cook would choose to live off of canned soup." "You wound me," he said in mock injured tones, "I've lived in the Quebec province for months now and you don't think I've learned anything about fine French cuisine?" "Okay, Julia Child," she challenged, "what culinary masterpieces have you learned to conjure up? And let me warn you, don't say sweetbreads." "Omelets, real French omelets," he said smugly, "Two of my graduate students invited me for dinner and since their six year old son demonstrated his ability to make a good omelet, I thought I could learn too." "Could the six year old really make an omelet?" she asked, walking down the hall to the kitchen. "Actually, yes, with a little help he did just fine," he answered, following her into spacious kitchen and leaning against the stove. "Well," she tried to appear thoughtful, "I suppose if a six year could do it so could you." He snatched a dish towel off the counter and threw it at her in response. "I put you in charge of making the salad. I'm going to ransack your fridge for filling ingredients." "There's a jar of roasted red peppers, some calamata olives, and I think, some feta cheese in there," she yelled from the pantry. They moved through the kitchen like a couple who had been together for years, handing each other items before asked, bumping hips while walking back and forth to the pantry, talking of mundane things, and telling each other anecdotes about their students. After dinner, Dana admitted Mulder made excellent omelettes. He was pleased with her praise but warned, "Don't get to used to me cooking, I can only make two other things and one of them is boiled water." They washed the dishes, and went upstairs to Dana's bedroom with a bottle of wine. While Mulder showered, she changed into a pair of men's black-watch plaid, flannel pajamas and sat on the window seat under an afghan to watch the snow beginning to fall onto the row of brownstones on her street. The water shut off, and Mulder walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. She stood up, stepped out of the pajama bottoms and handed them to him, explaining, "It's cold. Pour some wine and come watch the snow with me." How does she manage to look so sexy in a flannel pajama top, he thought and curled up on the window seat under the afghan, leaning back against her . After several minutes of silence he spoke, his voice rough with emotion, "Thank you, Dana." "For what?" she asked, wrapping her arms around him and leaning down to kiss the top of his head. "For taking away my last doubt, for showing me we were equal even in pain, not from experiences alone but because we reflect each other," his voice faded a little and then he continued, "If pain can't be avoided, it can be balanced with happiness and since we're... linked... if I deny myself happiness, I deny you that same happiness." She nodded, "We've been hopelessly entwined for... well, since we lost nine minutes together on a road in Oregon maybe." "Maybe," he agreed, "I was always trying to hold back but the longer we were together the more my control was slipping and then when you where diagnosed with cancer..." a single tear trailed down his cheek, the rest choked his voice. "It's okay, I'm fine now," she laughed when she realized she used their old phrase that really meant shut up and don't ask me. "I'm *really* fine. I had a check-up last week, I'm still cancer free." He returned the smile to show he didn't miss the significance of *fine*. He turned around to face her, kneeling on the window seat to hold her. "I'm so sorry, Dana. I didn't think I could allow myself to love you, openly, for so short a time and then lose you without losing myself. But the truth was, I was already lost, and I was obsessed with the idea of getting revenge. Revenge for taking away something I was afraid to have in the first place," he finished, kissing her forehead. "Mulder," she pulled out of his embrace and walked over to sit on the edge of the bed, "I was selfish, too. I kept telling myself I wasn't reaching out because it would make it all the more difficult for you when I died but the truth was, I was afraid, afraid to have just the smallest taste of what the rest of my life could have been like if I lived. Then when they found Samantha's body and your mother died, I told myself I was holding back for your sake but I was lying to myself." He sat down next to her, "So what you're trying to say is that we're both hopelessly stupid," he said with a grin. "Yeah," she laughed, "I guess that about sums it up." He was mesmerized by the brilliance of the full smile that lit her face as she laughed. "You are so beautiful," he said. "Mulder," she scolded, "you don't have to flatter me." "You're blushing. The unflappable former federal Agent Scully blushes like a school girl," said Mulder in obvious delight. Dana shot him a look. The Look. It only made him laugh harder. He lay back on the bed, enjoying the experience of a full, unadulterated laugh. He couldn't remember ever feeling so free. "Mulder-" "Hey, when are you going to stop calling me Mulder," he said, sitting back up. "You mean you actually want me to call you by your given name?" said Dana with a look of utter disbelief on her face. "Why not? I call you Dana don't I?" "But-" "But, what?" "I wasn't sure I wanted to, if you wanted me to," said Dana without looking at him, "Well, this seems silly but it, I don't know... it makes... us seem so final." "Do you want to say it?" he asked. "Yes, yes I do," she said softly, "Fo-" "Shh, don't," he covered her lips with his index finger, "Not yet, I want there to be nothing left between us when you say it." She looked perplexed and then smiled, "What could there possibly be left between us? And this better not involve EBE's or flukemen." He laughed, "No, no time for mutants, I've got a girl now." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap. She cuddled into his embrace, "What then?" "Dana, there was something Byers didn't share with you. It was my place to tell you. When you found out you had cancer, and the gunmen and I broke into the clinic- " "You found out I was infertile," she finished. He was stunned, "How did you know?" "Mulder, when we were together that night we didn't use protection. I knew, no matter how upset you were, you wouldn't have overlooked it unless it wasn't, for some reason, necessary . I knew you were disease free, I'd had to review your complete medical history with enough emergency rooms to know that, and you been to the ER with me to enough to know I wasn't taking any medication so when I found out I wasn't pregnant even though it would have been a good time for it, I started to grow suspicious about what you might have known. I saw a doctor and after some tests, she confirmed it; I'm infertile. I just don't know if I always was or if when I was gone," she swallowed hard, as tears began to run down her cheeks, "they took that away from me." "Dana," he said gently, lifting her chin to look into her eyes, "I took it back." She kissed him lightly, taking comfort in his words even though she wasn't sure of their meaning and waited for him to explain. He continued, "I found your records at the clinic, they had harvested your ova and had them frozen with samples from hundreds of other women. I stole back a tube. I had Byers and Langley hack into another clinic's database, create a false account under the name Katherine D. Mulder, and then Langley posed as a driver for a GenMed Technologies and just `dropped off' the tube for long-term storage. Langley thought it was alien DNA." Dana stood up and walked to the window, silently staring at the snow. "Did you want to be?" he asked in a barely audible voice. "Want what?" she asked, turning around. "To be pregnant with my child." "Yes," she answered simply. He stared at her, the light from the street lamps glowing around her, obscuring her face but highlighting her form. "Come here," he requested. She walked back to the bed and stood silently before him. Mulder looked up at her, "Dana, tonight I'm going to make you my lover. "Mulder, unless I'm greatly mistaken you've been there, done that." Mulder grabbed her by waist and then dragged her onto the bed, rolling on top of her and pining her to the bed with his legs. "I'm going to let you pretend I couldn't kick you ass over tea kettle onto the floor, Mulder." He chuckled and began unbuttoning her pajama top, "Okay, Dana you can play games if you want but you know exactly what I mean. I want this to be hot and agonizingly slow. This time, I want it to be a physical manifestation of our feelings, not our desires." "Mulder," she breathed, as he began kissing the base of her throat. She heard him say, "Slow, it's going to be so slow, and you're going to call me Fox, Dana. You're going to moan it against my mouth when I make you come," and then she lost herself in him. ****** Walter Skinner sat in a restaurant in Boston's North End morosely staring at a cup of espresso. At this same time yesterday he had been delighted to find Dana Scully's home and downright ecstatic when he realized Mulder was there. Ecstatic that was, until he saw them in what he thought was a lover's embrace. He waited until dark and spied on them long enough to confirm that they were most definitely lovers. God only knew for how long, he didn't even want to think about the possibility that they were lovers while they were partners. They been open about their fierce loyalty to one another at the Bureau, he could just imagine what a force they would have been in the field together as secret lovers, under extreme stress and away from prying eyes. Well, he thought, now I have no idea what their answer will be. He would think no couple who had gone though all they had would want to return to the machinations of the Bureau now but now that they were together again they might want to continue their search. Might as well get it over with, he thought, throwing money on the table and walking out onto the street to his double parked car. ******** He sat in his rental car outside the brownstone waiting for his former agents to get out of bed. How many times can two people do it in one morning, it's almost eleven o'clock, he thought irritably. An hour later he was relieved to see movement downstairs. I just hope they're dressed, he thought as he knocked on the door. ******** "Fox!" Dana yelled from the top of rung of the step-ladder in the pantry. He appeared in the doorway, barefoot, wearing jeans and pulling a shirt on. He smiled when he saw her balancing on her toes trying to reach the top self and missing, even with the step ladder. "If you make a short joke, I'll-" "Don't worry Dana," he said, grasping her waist and swinging her down, "I remember what a good shot you are, no short jokes from me." She rolled her eyes at him, "I thought I heard someone at the door." "I made coffee before I got in the shower, if you get the mugs, I'll go check." ******** "Fox, who is it?" Walter Skinner was speechless, despite the fact he knew what they had been doing all morning, he hadn't been prepared for the sight of his former agents. Fox Mulder stood in the doorway wearing jeans and an unbuttoned oxford shirt, Scully walked up behind him, putting an arm around his waist. If the site of Scully with swollen lips, hair still damp from the shower and Mulder half-dressed, sporting an obvious love bite on his neck, and a drowsy well-loved look on his face wasn't enough, Scully had called Mulder, Fox. This was not going to be a comfortable visit. Scully looked perplexed, Mulder acted as though there was nothing usual about the visit and asked, "Sir, would you like to come in?" "Yes. Thank you, Mulder, I would like to speak to you and Scully," Skinner replied as Mulder ushered him into the living room. Skinner noticed Scully eyeing him warily as she sat on the sofa opposite the chair he chose. She remained stone-faced and silent. "Would you like a coffee, sir? I was just getting a cup for Dana and myself," asked Mulder. "Thank you, yes," Skinner waited until Mulder left the room. He was about to say something when Scully spoke. "I don't suppose you're here to bring us good news." Skinner couldn't read the expression on her face. "Has Mulder been here in Boston the whole time?" he asked. "No." Skinner waited for a more in-depth explanation and when he realized none was forthcoming he began, "Agent Scully, I-" "I am no longer a federal agent," said Scully tersely. "I am here to see if you and Agent Mulder are interested in changing that." "I am longer a federal agent either, and I have no interest in changing that," said Mulder returning to the living room. He had buttoned his shirt and put on a pair of moccasins. He handed Skinner a cup of coffee and turned to Dana, passing her a mug. As their fingers touched, she looked up at him and he was pleased to see in her expression that she hadn't been worried about his answer. Dana warmed her hands on the pottery mug before sipping the coffee. She smiled mentally as she realized Mulder had mixed cinnamon -her favorite- into the filter with the grounds before brewing; Skinner hated flavored coffee. She turned toward him as began speaking. "Mulder, Scully, I think you're being hasty in your decision. You haven't even asked why the Bureau sent me or what the offer is. I know you both have unresolved questions you still need the answers for. The best place way to search for those answers is as federal agents." Skinner held little hope that he was getting anywhere with them. He felt his stomach sink as Mulder sat down next to Dana, sitting so close that their thighs were touching, and he almost cringed as Dana laid her hand on Mulder's knee. By refusing to act with even a shadow of the professional decorum they had shown at the Bureau they were sending him a clear message about their intentions. "Excuse me for saying so, but since when is the Bureau concerned with Fox and I's personal interests." "Scully, quite frankly, I think that's a cheap shot," said Skinner, he noticed Mulder and Scully looking at each other, as though trying to come to a silent consensus and felt his hope that this could be salvaged disappearing. Mulder spoke, " I have the enough of those answers to satisfy me and so does Dana. The rest is no longer important. We've given enough of ourselves and our time to a government whose intrigues, instead of uncovering the truth, caused us to become more deeply mired in lies," he paused. Scully interrupted, and staring intently at Skinner said, "Why don't we just lay our cards on table, sir. Mulder and I are lovers. We have no interest in resuming careers with the FBI, so why don't you just tell us why your making the offer and what's behind it." Skinner paused, shocked that she was so frank about their relationship. He noticed Mulder covering the hand she had rested on his knee with his own and entwining their fingers. They were looking at each other with an intensity that gave Skinner the chills. They had always been able to communicate with a look, he had seen it enough times when they had been called into his office, but the way they were glazing at each other now was cool and peaceful, and somehow at the same time blatantly pornographic. Jesus, he thought, if they were lovers while they were at the Bureau they had hidden it well. Mulder spoke, as though reading his thoughts, "We weren't lovers when we were agents. Even though it may have put you in a difficult position we would have felt it necessary to tell you if we were involved." "Thank you," he said, grateful to know they had trusted him that much, he hoped they still did. "I am here because I was told in no uncertain terms to bring you back to the Bureau even if it meant having to reopen the X-Files. I have no idea who made the decision or why. I agreed to track you both down and make the offer." "Why?" Scully demanded. Skinner didn't answer right away and Scully only had to look at Mulder to see he knew why. She mentally withdrew the question and asked another, "What are the consequences if we don't return?" "I don't know. If I knew why they wanted you back maybe I could answer that but I have no idea why they're suddenly interested in you again. You've been ignored and virtually forgotten over the past year, this was completely out of the blue so I can't comment on the consequences." "Speculate for us," urged Mulder wryly. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," Skinner quoted, shrugging his shoulders, "I assume they decided to bring you back where they can keep a close eye on you. I can only guess that if you don't, they'll rifle over every detail of your past caseload looking for something to accuse you of, or blackmail you with so they can put you in another position they have control over." The room was silent for several moments and then Mulder asked, "What if you gave them something to hold over us?" Skinner just stared. "Tell them we're lovers, that we have been, secretly, for three years. They should be able to find plenty of incidents in our files that could be construed as unprofessional behavior because we were involved. If we ever tried to re-enter the Bureau, or law enforcement, or even the military they could use that to stop us. We wouldn't be able to regain a position of authority investigate whatever it is they're so concerned with concealing," Mulder finished. "Are you sure you want me to do that?" "They could easily find out anyway," Scully answered, knowing Skinner would want her verbal approval along with Mulder's. "They could have easily tracked you down too, but they sent me to do it. I want you to think this over before making a final decision. If I give them information and they still feel you're a threat out on your own, they could decide to actively use it against you." "How so?" Scully asked. "They could come up with something that could be used to bring civil charges against one or both of you, saying you conspired with each other because you were lovers," Skinner guessed, but he could see they weren't convinced, "Off the top of my head, just the incident involving Mulder's removal of a federal prisoner without authorization could be twisted into a kidnapping charge, and they would bring charges againest you," he said nodding at Scully, "saying you were an accessory. I could think of several other situations that could be similarly utilized in this way." "Point well taken, we'll think about it and give you a decision in the next few days," said Scully rising from the couch. Skinner had the distinct impression he was being dismissed and it almost made him smile. Mulder walked him to the door. Mulder reached for the doorknob,"No matter what we decide we're not going back, especially not to be kept under someone's thumb." Skinner just nodded. In a way he was relieved they weren't coming back but he was worried the course of action they were considering would be even more dangerous. He handed Mulder a card, "Just call my cell phone when you've made up your minds." Mulder found Dana back in the kitchen pouring the remaining coffee between her mug and a Close Encounters coffee cup. He raised an eyebrow at her as she handed it to him. "I found it at a yard sale just after I moved here. It made me think of you so I bought it," she explained. "I think Skinner's lost more hair," Mulder commented as he sat down at the kitchen table. She ignored the comment, "Fox, what do you want to do?" He gulped the last of the coffee and walked to the sink saying, "You laid it out for Skinner. I think what we have to do is apparent." "Okay, but-" He rinsed the coffee cup and turned to her, "Grab your coat then, we've got a lot to do." He paused for a moment in his stride to the door, " Do you want to call your mother?" "For what? And where are we going?" asked Scully who had followed him to the front door and was pulling on her boots nevertheless. "To tell her we're getting married," he said in the same impatience tone he'd often used when they were partners and she wasn't following some wild theory of his. "Excuse me!?" Scully froze in the act of lacing her left boot. Mulder turned to her, "Dana, you agreed with me that we have only one course of action, to let Skinner feed them the Romeo and Juliet story of us as secret, star-crossed lovers. If we do that and it back fires on us, if they decide it's not enough to just hold it over us and they try to bring-" "Civil charges, as spouses we couldn't be made to testify against one another which would make it their word against whichever one of us they chose to go after," concluded Dana, "But they could still build a case against either one of us without the other's testimonies." "Yeah, but it would be harder, and besides despite the fact that it wouldn't at all change our relationship, the alpha male in me would love to have a piece of paper that said we legally belong to one another," he paused, "Do you not want to marry me?" He watched Scully carefully, he wasn't really sure of her feeling regarding marriage in general, never mind to him but he hadn't thought she'd object. She slowly pulled her coat and the leather gloves that had so fascinated Mulder the day before, on and then turned to him, "What's the third thing?" He just looked at her blankly. "The third thing you can cook?" she supplied. "Chili. I'm a guy, any self-respecting guy can make chili." "All right, I like chili. Let's go. We'll have to get blood tests, apply for the license, wait, and then-" "Do you want to call your mother?" Mulder repeated, unfazed by her odd question. "No," she answered, "I can hardly call her and tell her after not having seen each other for a year we're getting married since we have hot sex and because the government's blackmailing us since we have knowledge of secret defense department experiments involving alien DNA. Believe me, it's better if we tell her later." "You're right," Mulder deadpanned, "People are just getting used to the idea that there was once microbiotic life on Mars. The alien DNA thing would shock her." She rolled her eyes at him and waited for him to finish putting on his coat before dragging him out the door. ******* Four Days Later "Dr. Mulder, Dr. Scully, your room is ready. I'll get someone to take your bags up." Mulder looked up at the clerk, "Thanks, ma'am, but I'll take them, we only have two." She smiled at him and handed him a the key, "It's on the fourth floor on the right." "Ma'am?" questioned Scully when they got on the elevator. "Dana, we're in Georgia, I have to let my southern gentleman's charm shine through," Mulder admonished. "Oh, pardon me, should I don a white lawn dress and meet you out on the veranda for a mint julep." "Depends, what a you gonna wear under the dress?" he asked with a practiced leer as they stepped off the elevator. She grabbed the room key from him and walked in front of him to open the door. "Hey, wait," he protested, as she marched into the room and crossed to the window, "Aren't I supposed to carry you across the threshold?" She didn't bother to answer, just turned to raise an eyebrow at him before throwing the window open and leaning out. "We have a great view of the river," she commented, watching the last rays of the sun glinting off the water. "Well, that would probably explain why they call the street we're on River Street wouldn't it?" She snatched a pillow off the bed and threw it at him, he dropped their luggage and neatly caught it, flashing her grin. "Seriously, Mulder why did we stop here? I thought we were going to head out to one of the islands?" "Oooo, it's Mulder again, already? Okay, *Scully*, although the beautiful coastal islands of Georgia managed to conceal John-John's wedding, I thought we had a few less people to avoid than he and his bride did. And since it's December, the ocean breezes on the islands might be a bit cool, and it's almost Christmas." She looked confused at his garbled explanation, "What does Christmas have to do with it?" "One, I have to get you a gift and that's much easier to do here. Two, every year at this time the city re-enacts Sherman's taking of the city at the end of his infamous `March to the Sea' and I've always wanted to see it. Three, even if Christmas wasn't approaching, the bakery at the end of the street makes the world's best pecan pie and since we didn't have a wedding cake..." "What are we going to do, send Skinner a piece?" "Wellll," he drawled thoughtfully, "they do ship, and after Byers calls his cell phone and breaks the news to him, Skinner may need something to raise his blood sugar." She chuckled, "Your worried about his blood *sugar*? Try blood pressure, maybe I should write out a prescription for Vasotec and send it to him." She took her suitcase from him and tossed it on the bed. She unzipped it and began rummaging through. "What are you looking for?" he asked as he hung up his jacket and handed several hangers to her. "All the red silk negligees I packed," she quipped. He sucked in a long breath, "It's cruel to tease a man like that, Dana." He finished unpacking and flopped on the bed, "I haven't been this tired since I left the Bureau." "Seven hours of marriage and you're as tired as you were from chacing serial killers and clones for four years? I think you're in trouble, Fox." "If you kill me, at least I'll go with a smile on my face." She laughed, "Take a nap and rest up while I shower, old man." In the shower, she reflected on the last few days. They were a jumble, she remembered having a blood test, for a much happier reasons than she usually did. She remembered packing up gifts for her family and sending them to her mother's with a card explaining she would be away for the holidays. She remembered buying the plain gold band, wrapped snugly in her suitcase, for Fox. She recalled the discussion about where to live, he was confident he could secure a new teaching position so he insisted they stay in Boston near her oncologist. She recalled her amazement when he told her not to worry about money. He confessed his parents had left him all their property, four homes with a combined value of approximately two million dollars. His mother's stock portfolio, other investments, and the trust fund his father had set up for Samantha had also been left to him now that his sister's death had been confirmed. She smiled as she thought about their wedding, if you could call it that. They had taken the subway to city hall, had a clerk and a someone waiting to file a permit with the planning department witness the event, and had jumped back on the subway to get to the airport for their flight to Savannah. She rinsed her hair and stepped out of the shower to towel off, peeking out the door to see if he was asleep. He was, he had removed his shoes but was still fully dressed stretched out across the bed. She smiled, since he never slept when she first knew him, his now constant cat-napping seemed almost comical to her She dried her hair and as she was putting on a light robe she heard a knock at the door. She tip-toed across the room and opened the door to find a deliveryman. "Are you either Dr. Mulder or Dr. Scully," he inquired. "Dr. Scully," she answered. "Good, I'm from the restaurant down the street, we had an order called in for you," he handed her the packages. "Thank you," she said assuming Mulder had ordered food while she was in the shower. She grabbed her purse and rummaged around for a tip. "No, that's okay, it's all taken care of," he said disappearing down the hallway. Then she noticed a white envelope on top. Opening it, she looked at the plain white card inside. It's note read: Dana and Mulder, Since we couldn't be there for the blessed event we thought we'd send you a gift along with our regards. We ordered local specialities for you. We included oysters and although they are considered an aphrodisiac Frohike commented Mulder would have to be certifiable to need any encouragement. We wish you much happiness, The Gunmen Dana opened the packages, in them was an entire pecan pie, a bottle of peach wine, a bottle of champagne, a dozen oysters Rockefeller, crab cakes, and a half a dozen pop overs, along with plates, glasses and silverware. She cut a piece of the pie and brought it over to the bed, waving a fork full under Mulder's nose. The smell woke him instantly, "You brought food, you're an angel." "Actually, the Gunmen sent it," she told him as she handed him the note. He read it and clutched it against he chest chuckling, "Well, Dana, Frohike's probably right, I don't need encouragement but bring on the oysters anyway, so long as they're cooked." They lay in bed two hours later sipping peach wine. Mulder was naked, his hair still damp from the shower and Scully was dressed only in an old button-down shirt of his. "Fox, I have something for you," she said, as she reached under her pillow to retrieve the small package she had hidden while he was in the shower. He looked at her inquisitively as she handed him the silver wrapped box. "Is this what I think it is?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. She shrugged enigmatically at him. "Wait a minute," he said, crossing the room to pull a similar small box from his luggage, "I have something for you." He handed the gift to her but noticed her hesitating. "Open your's first," he urged. She unwrapped and opened the tiny box to find a simple gold wedding band, with a scroll and the phrase "In My End Is My Beginning" inscribed in the pink gold inside, like a secret. "In My End Is My Beginning," he quoted to her, "It was the personal motto of Mary Queen of Scots. I was fascinated by her when was I was at Oxford. I visited all the places she lived, she had quite a life. She was sent away from her family in Scotland to Paris as a child, raised to be the French queen only to have the king die soon after their marriage, then back to Scotland to rule a country that considered her a foreigner and didn't trust her or her faith. She tried hard to be a good sovereign but no one was interested in her ideas and she became hated for her beliefs. In her desperation she began making bad decisions, she trusted the wrong people, and it cost her her life." "Her cousin Queen Elizabeth had her beheaded, right?" He nodded, "She never achieved the recognition or notoriety she so desperately wanted during her lifetime but after her death, her end, her story spread, her fame grew and ..." "It somehow, ironically, became her beginning," finished Dana. "Yes," he agreed, "just as my life began that night, the night my life as Agent Mulder ended. And you gave me a beginning, that night you gave me the strengthen to begin again." He took the small ring from her but paused before putting it on her finger. "Dana, I know our feelings for each other run deep but I also know we were given little choice in this matter. I want to give this to you but if you have doubts, if you think this isn't want you'll always want, please tell me now, because for me this is forever, and," he finished huskily, "I don't think I could begin again." She looked into his eyes, but for once could see nothing but the green, gold, and brown flecks that seemed to swirl together in them. She took the ring from him but did not put it on, and instead clenched it in her right hand. "Open yours," she answered. He tore the wrapping paper and pulled the ring from the box. It was a plain gold ring, much like hers, in the inside were the cryptic words, `What do I have?'. He looked at her for an explanation. "When we were first assigned to work together, I had nothing but your suspicion, your reluctance, your disdain. I no longer have those things." He tried to say something but she silenced him by putting a finger over his lips, "Shh," she moved her fingers to caress the side of his face, "But, then after working together, I earned your respect, I had your friendship, and eventually I had your trust. I have those things still." She softly touched her lips to the side of his face, slowly placing feather light kisses across his cheekbones as she spoke. "Over these past few years I have had many things from you- your contempt, your strengthen, your concern, your beliefs, I have had your protection, your anger, your support, your sympathy," She gentle bit his earlobe and felt his breath grow ragged as she sucked on it. She continued speaking while running her hands across his chest, catching her fingers in his chest hair and tugging slightly. "Eventually I had your joy, your desire, your need, your love," she whispered kissing his neck, brushing her fingertips over his nipples. "Love," he repeated hoarsely, his voice catching as she reached down to grasp the lengthen of him. He began to have difficulty paying attention as she stroked him. She let go and kissed him full on the mouth. She tasted like ripe peaches, suddenly he has the impression he was standing in the warm summer sun and he had the vague thought that he now knew the drunk, dizzy feeling bees must have while flying through a fruit orchard on a hot day. "Yes, I have your love, but I've never wanted to settle for less, Fox," she murmured seductively, "I'll be your lover but I can't be your wife if you're not mine, if I can't have everything. What do I have?" He kissed her again. "You have my heart," his tongue traced her lower lip, "You have my faith," he nibbled along her jawline, stopping at the pulse point beneath her ear, he was pleased to feel her heart racing as out of control as his was. "You have my confidence," he continued, "my hope, you have my companionship, my beliefs." He kissed her again, and surprised when she pulled away from him. "But I want everything, I want to give everything and receive everything in return. Do you want everything Fox?" "Yes," he moaned, pulling her mouth back to his, "I want everything. Give me everything, Dana." "Can you give me everything in return?" He pushed her over back onto the bed, unbuttoning and peeling the shirt off her body, touching her almost reverently. "I want to," he replied. "You hold me in your hand, you only need my consent to make me yours. But I need to know do you still believe your soul belongs to the woman once called Sarah? Is this life just a waiting period until you can be with her again? Do you believe?" she asked earnestly, pulling his body down to cover hers. He gasped at the feeling of skin against skin. "No, no, I can't believe." "Why? Why don't you believe?" As she continued to caress him, her hands roaming everywhere, he whispered, "Because I am yours, all of me, everything I am belongs to you. I give everything to you Dana, always, for always." She wrapped her legs around him. "Make me your wife, Fox." As he sank into her, feeling her legs clench around his waist, he sobbed into her throat, "Please, please, Dana. I am for you. I begin and end with you." Time seemed to be moving forward only for his body as he moved within her. His mind, his mind was frozen waiting for her consent, her words that would tell him his gift was accepted, her words that would tell him she was his in return. He felt her hands leave his back momentarily, when they returned he felt her warm fingers trace his shoulder blades, warm accept for the cool band of gold she had slid onto her left hand, her silent permission. She writhed under him and he thought she was beyond words but he heard her say, "I am your mate. I give myself to you. I take everything and I give back everything in return." He could feel himself losing control, at her words, at the feel of the smooth gold ring against his skin, and when she arched up into him, crying out, he dissolved, his world going black. ****** "I am sorry to report that although I found Dana Scully and Fox Mulder they refused to return to the Bureau." "Really?" The noncommittal comment gave Skinner the chills. "And why was it that you couldn't convince them?" "Well, sir, it would seem that they had been conducting a clandestine lover affair for several years and-" "Really?" said the voice asked again as it exhaled. "Yes, really," Skinner repeated as he mentally pictured the wisps of cigarette smoke drifting on the other side of the phone. "Where are they?" "I don't know. They contacted me yesterday to let me know they got married and had left Boston." "Married?" the voice chuckled drily, "How commonplace. I expected them to be so much more... interesting than that." Skinner cringed at the silky way the voice had caressed the word `interesting'. "Is there anything else you require?" he asked tersely. "No, no, nothing for now," the voice replied, still chuckling, "Nothing for now." THE END