Subject: Eleventh Hour by Rachel Anton(1/2)
Date:6 Sep 1998

Title: Eleventh Hour (1/11)

Author: Rachel Anton

E-mail: RaValliano@aol.com (note: if anyone has tried to
contact me at this addy in the past few months and hasn’t gotten
a response, I AM SO SORRY!! I was having trouble accessing
my account for awhile and aol eventually just started erasing my
messages so I might have missed a few. Should be all better
now though.)

Rating: NC-17 for cussin’ and sexin’
Category: S, R
Keywords: MSR, angst, kinda sorta an x-file, pre x-files
Distribution: Anywhere with my name and e-mail
Disclaimer: Anybody you recognize doesn’t belong to me.

Summary: Some feeling defy the confines of time.

Author’s notes: This story deals with time travel in a completely
illogical and scientifically inaccurate way. Scully would shudder
at this. It’s about feelings people :) Also, this story has a lot of
parts but I promise they are all relatively short.

Acknowledgments: Thanks to Laura for tireless and fearless
editing and for thinking of the title! And thanks to Amy for being
there when this thing was an amoebae of an idea and for helping
me make it grow.

February 14, 2001

It’s Valentine’s Day. Never one of my favorite days but this one
has to be the topper. The worst Valentine’s Day in the history of
a long line of crappy Valentine’s Days. Just as every day in the
past nine months has been the worst of it’s kind. Yesterday was
the worst February 13th. A month ago it was the worst January
13th. And so on.

Yes, it’s been 9 months. Almost. In two days it will be 9 months.
I haven’t written or spoken of this, or anything really, to anyone.
Not yet. This is the first try. My court appointed therapist tells me
that if I write it will help. That if I let a little bit of it go, the
nightmares might abate, I will eat, I will speak. I don’t believe
her. Nor do I care.

I will try this though, if only to appease her, to make her stop
coming to me every day. If she thinks I am making progress,
maybe she will leave me alone.

We were on a case. It was pretty run of the mill for us. Murder. I
can’t do this.

Okay, try again. We were on a murder case. There were certain
irregularities in the corpses. God. Fuck it. Nobody cares about
that shit anymore, least of all me. Suffice it to say we were on a
case. We had a suspect and she went after him. To protect his
next target. She put herself in a lot of danger. A lot. And she
didn’t tell me that she was going, she just went. Just ran off
without a word on a hunch. A fucking hunch. Okay, she caught
the guy, single handed. But I was pissed. I was really, really
pissed.

I know it’s nothing I hadn’t done to her a thousand times.
Hypocrisy runs deep in my blood. I went to her hotel room to try
to talk to her, to ask her why she hadn’t told me. God was I
pissed. She was too.

She didn’t understand. God, she never understood. I think
maybe she thought she did, but she didn’t, not really. I suppose
my methods of getting the point across weren’t too effective. I
shook her. I actually shook her. And I made her cry. I yelled and
I shook and I tried to make her see how scared I was and I made
her fucking cry. I was just so tired. Tired of seeing her almost
die. I know it’s part of the job description, part of the risk. I
accepted that risk for myself happily. I never accepted it for her
though. And she was part of me. And it wasn’t fair that part of
me could run off without me and almost die without even asking
me if it was okay.

That probably sounds chauvinistic. She’s her own person. That’s
what she told me anyway. I thought she knew that I couldn’t live
without her. I thought I had made that clear. I think she wanted
me to tell her again. I think she wanted me to tell her why. I think
I almost did. I think I was so close to it that I could taste it. It was
time. We both knew that it was time already. Time to cut the
bullshit and finish what we had started so many times. So many
times that I wasted.

But, as usual, something stopped us. This time it was a ringing
phone. She shook her head when it rang. She didn’t want me to
answer it. Why did I answer it? I’m sorry. I’m so

Shit, all right, here we go again. I am supposed to be writing her
name. That’s what the therapist said. I don’t think I can. She
gave me a pen and paper the other day and asked me to write
it, just once. I couldn’t. I scrawled out the shaky beginnings of an
S and then just gave up. I don’t even want to try now.

Anyway, I answered the phone. It was the sheriff. He wanted me
to come down to the station and fill out some reports. They
needed me. That’s what I told myself, and her. It was important.
Always another important thing.

She held her hand out across the door and told me I wasn’t
leaving until we finished this. I couldn’t. I wanted to. I was so
scared.

Someone needed to get a statement from the killer’s father.
That was for her. I told her to do that. It was safe. It was easy. I
thought I

I can’t do this.

February 16

Well, I showed the shrink what I’ve written so far. Good progress
according to her. Yeah, fucking great. Really. I am so proud.

So, here we go. I told her to go. That’s right. I demanded that
she go. That she leave. She was being unprofessional, letting
our personal problems take precedence over the case. I knew
how to get to her, which buttons to push. God what a prick I was
that day. What a frightened, frantic, nasty prick.

She went. She went because I asked her to. It seemed like
something simple to keep her busy for awhile. Maybe it would
give her time to forget, to let this slide the way she usually let
my emotional fits slide. I told her to go so that I could escape.
Because I am a coward. Because I am selfish.

No self-reproach. That’s what therapy woman tells me. She
wants me to write this without talking about what a waste of
space I am, about how pathetic I am. She doesn’t want me to
write about the fact that it should have been me. How am I
supposed to do that?

She thinks if I can manage it they might take me off the suicide
watch. I doubt that though.

So, she went. She went to interview the psycho’s father and I
went to the sheriff’s office. When I was there I couldn’t think of
anything but the look on her face when I picked up that damn
phone. I knew I had let her down. Again. And I vowed to make it
up to her. Someday, somehow. One day I would have enough
courage to let this thing happen, to let her give herself to me.
One day I would have enough faith in myself, be a good enough
person to trust myself with her.

I didn’t even sense that something was wrong. I didn’t even
know. How could I not have fucking known?

The call came in as I was getting ready to leave, ready to face
her again. I remember hoping she was delayed, that I wouldn’t
have to see her for a few more hours. I didn’t want to see her.
God. I didn’t want to face her. God.

It was the hospital. Your partner’s been hurt. Your partner’s been
shot. Shot in the head. Your partner is dying. I don’t remember
what I felt. I don’t remember driving to the hospital. I swear I
don’t. I’m not trying to avoid writing about it. I honestly don’t
remember.

I remember getting to the emergency room. I remember a
woman, a nurse, talking to me. Telling me it was over, telling me
she had “passed”. That’s what that motherfucking cunt said to
me. “Sorry, she’s passed.” I didn’t understand. Passed? Passed
what? I just kept asking the nurse where she was, over and over.
I didn’t understand. It was like someone telling you the sun had
exploded and wasn’t going to be coming around anymore. It just
doesn’t make sense. Where did it go? When is it coming back?
You just don’t understand.

Eventually a doctor came up to me and told me where she was.
The morgue. She was in the morgue. Doing an autopsy, I
wondered. No, she’s passed. Same fucking thing. They wouldn’t
tell me where the morgue was so I went and found it for myself.
I’d been to enough of them to know where to look.

But when I got there, she wasn’t there. There was just some guy
in a lab coat and a bunch of drawers. I asked him where she
was, what they had done with her. He pointed to one of the
drawers and asked me to leave. But how could I leave when
they had locked her in a drawer?

I pulled it open and she was there. Looking back it’s hard to
fathom how I could have thought she was still alive. She was
cold and blue. The side of her face was God, it was just gone.
But I still didn’t understand. Fuck it, I still don’t. I still sometimes
think that. I guess that’s why I’m here. They tell me over and
over that she’s not. I held her lifeless body in my hands. I still
cannot believe sometimes.

I took her out of the drawer and I started to carry her out of
there. She was naked, just like the last time they had taken her,
and I covered her with the sheet she was laying on and held her
close to my body. The lab guy called security I suppose because
soon there were men with badges and guns everywhere telling
me to let her go. I couldn’t, how could I?

I collapsed onto the floor, still holding her and cradled her in my
lap. I tried talking to her, whispering in her ear, telling her I was
sorry but she still wouldn’t wake up. I slapped her. I slapped her
beautiful face and she still wouldn’t wake up. I didn’t understand.
I don’t understand. Scully where are you? Scully. God. Scully.

February 20th

Shrink woman is very impressed with my progress. She wants
me to show my entries to the group since I won’t say a word to
any of them. Fuck that shit. She’s lucky I’m showing them to her.

Despite my so called progress, I haven’t been able to write for
the past four days. After finishing my last entry I slipped into a
semi-catatonic state for awhile. That’s what they call it anyway. I
dunno, I just didn’t want to do anything for awhile. What the
hell’s wrong with that?

Anyway, today I got bored with catatonia and decided to write a
little bit. I’m supposed to talk about my “process” now. How I
ended up here.

I suppose it’s needless to say that after the episode in the
hospital I was deemed unfit for duty and removed from the
bureau. Well, they called it an “extended vacation until such
time as Agent Mulder has recovered from the death of his
partner”. We all knew what that meant though. I was gone for
good.

I didn’t go to the funeral. Is that horrible? A lot of people think
that it was. Her family was furious. Her mother made a special
trip to my apartment to tell me I was a selfish bastard and ought
to be ashamed for not showing up. She told me her daughter
would have been very disappointed in me. She’d wanted me to
deliver a eulogy. They didn’t understand. How could I give a
eulogy for someone who wasn’t really dead.

Yes, I still thought she was coming back at this point. I thought a
funeral was a travesty. It was a hoax perpetrated by our
enemies. They had taken her again and put some dead clone in
her place so that I wouldn’t look for her. I was absolutely certain
that this was the case and wouldn’t hear anything else for a long
time.

I looked for her. I didn’t have the bureau’s resources but I did
what I could. Lots of people tried to talk to me at this point. I
guess this is when I stopped speaking altogether. I just couldn’t
argue anymore. They all kept telling me she was dead and I got
so tired of the sad, sympathetic look they’d give me when I told
them that she wasn’t. I didn’t need their fucking pity. I still don’t.

Eventually I found the man that supposedly killed her. He was
very angry about her arresting his son and apparently psychosis
runs in the family. He disappeared for awhile after the shooting
but I managed to track him down. I guess that’s when it clicked.

When I saw him I finally understood what he had done. He had
killed her and she wasn’t coming back. It was no surprise to
anyone that I killed him. I think if that’s all I had done I wouldn’t
even be here. One clean gunshot wound to the head. If that’s all
I had done I would probably just be in prison. Or maybe even
free. There’s a certain leniency in the system, a code that
protects those who kill someone who has murdered a law
enforcement officer. But that’s not what I did.

I guess you could say that I tortured him. I suppose that one
could say that. I’m not interested in getting into the details. It’s
enough to say that he died a slow and painful death. And I don’t
regret it. At all. And if that means that I will never get out of here
then so be it. I will never apologize. I will never have an ounce
of remorse.

Once it was done I realized that my one purpose left in life had
been achieved and that it was time to blow this taco stand.

I was so close. The gun was in my mouth, safety off, hand on
the trigger. And then they shot me. Motherfucking cops shot my
hand so that I would drop the gun. It took me a few months to
get the use of my hand completely back. Dumb fuckers. It was
none of their business. Why stop a man from killing himself only
to put him in an institution for the criminally insane at the
taxpayer’s expense. What good does that do anyone? I’m sure
someone could lose an election over that shit.

After they shot me they took me to the hospital. They fixed my
hand and then they arrested me. It was actually pretty funny. No
one seemed to know what to do with me for a long time. I sat in
a jail cell, staring at the wall for a few days. Then there was a
trial. Skinner got me a lawyer. I guess he was a good lawyer. He
wanted me to talk though. He thought if I could express my
emotional distress to the jury they would be easier on me. I think
my silence conveyed the message just as strongly. Anyway, it
was pretty obvious to everyone involved that I was a mental
incompetent. So they sent me here. And here I am still.

xxxx

Mulder dropped his pen and looked up nervously. Someone was
reading over his shoulder, he could sense it. He turned around
to the deranged visage of Crazy Larry. Larry was often likened
to an uglier, scarier version of Hannibal Lecter. Everyone in the
place was afraid of him except for Mulder. Mulder understood
where he was coming from.

Larry had lost his entire family in one night. His wife and children
had been murdered right in front of him. He’d been a scientist
before that. After the murders he’d turned into a professional
lunatic.

The men locked eyes and Mulder closed his journal protectively.

“You’re writing. That’s good.”

Mulder rolled his eyes and looked away.

“That’s right, you don’t talk. Well, that’s just as well. I need to tell
you something and it would be better if you didn’t interrupt.”

Larry sat down beside him and Mulder got up to leave. The rec.
room was giving him a headache anyway. All these noisy
loonies. He preferred to go mad quietly thank you very much.

“Wait! Don’t leave. This is important. It’s about your girlfriend.”

Mulder turned angrily back towards him. Girlfriend. Fucking
asshole. Was that supposed to be some kind of fucking joke?
She had never been his girlfriend. Larry saw his mistake and
amended for it.

“Or, whatever she was. The woman who died. The one you lost.
I’m talking to you because I know you want her back. I know
you’d do anything to have her back.”

Mulder just glared at the man and started to walk away again.
Larry grabbed his arm. Mulder was starting to get extremely
frustrated with the situation. Why was he tormenting him this
way?

“I know a way. I know a way that you can go back and save her.
Isn’t that what you want more than anything? To go back and
change things so that she never died?”

Bastard. Fucking bastard fucking with his head.

“Isn’t that what you lie awake crying silently to yourself wishing
you could do?”

“Fuck. Off.” Mulder growled quietly.

“Ah, we’re not completely mute.” Larry grinned. “I apologize if
I’ve angered you. It wasn’t my intention.”

Mulder wondered what the hell his intention was then.

“It’s just that I can see you’re as desperate as I am. I want to
help you. I assure you, I’m completely sincere.”

Mulder doubted that but he didn’t really have anything else to do
with his time. And if there was a chance, a one in a billion
chance, he had to listen. How could he not? He sat back down
and Larry smiled again.

“Good. Good choice. I realize that you’re going to think I’m full
of shit. I completely understand. This is probably going to be the
most implausible thing you’ve ever heard.”

Mulder seriously doubted that.

“Before they brought me here I was working on a project with a
colleague of mine. He’d always been interested in the prospect
of time travel you see. I thought him a bit of an eccentric but
when...well, when the unfortunate incidents occurred, I became
interested, even obsessed with the idea. What if I could go
back? What if I could change things? Make it so we’d never
been in the house that night. A simple thing. Go to the movies,
go anywhere. These tiny choices, sometimes they make all the
difference.”

Larry grew silent for a moment. His haggard face took on a
haunted look. One that Mulder recognized from the mirror. Tiny
things. Don’t leave. Don’t let her go.

Time travel. Mulder believed it to be entirely plausible. Hell, he’d
seen it. He was surprised he hadn’t thought of it himself. Change
one small thing and your whole life is different.

“When I was locked up I was afraid that the project would be
aborted,” Larry continued. “But my colleague continued the
work. And yesterday he visited me with some very intriguing
news. He’s sent something back. Mind you, it’s only a rat. But
the possibilities seem to be endless.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Mulder asked. He was still
suspicious of Larry’s motives.

“Because as I said, you seem as desperate as I am. I thought
you might be interested.”

“Interested in what?”

“Well, we’ve sent a rat. The next logical step is to attempt to
send a man.”

Ah, there it was. Larry wanted Mulder to be a guinea pig in some
twisted mad scientist routine.

“The catch of it is, the rat’s body is still here. It’s, well, it’s more
or less dead.”

“More or less?”

“Well, brain dead. The apparatus transmits the subjects mind,
their essence, their soul if you believe in such a thing,
backwards in time, into the body they once inhabited.”

This really was starting to sound like the most implausible thing
Mulder had ever heard. It was almost laughable.

“So, what happens to the old mind?”

Larry shrugged in response. Great. That was just great.

“We don’t exactly have all of the kinks worked out. That’s why
we need you.”

Mulder laughed for the first time in nine months. It was the most
ridiculous, idiotic thing anyone had ever suggested to him. And it
was also his only chance. And besides his meaningless life, he
had absolutely nothing to lose.

end part one

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Title: Eleventh Hour (2/11)
Author: Rachel Anton
E-mail: RaValliano@aol.com
Rating: NC-17
See part one for summary, disclaimer, etc.

Mulder woke up assaulted by a variety of pungent smells; dirty
sweat socks, old pizza, spilled bong water, unwashed sheets. He
had a strong sense of deja vu. The odor seemed strangely
familiar. It bore no resemblance to the antiseptic institutional
aroma he was used to waking up with.

It also bore no resemblance to July 3rd of the year 2000. That's
where he was supposed to be. That's where the ridiculous
apparatus Larry had put on his head was supposed to have
taken him. He wasn't there. And he wasn't here. Where was he?

He opened his eyes and looked around. He was in a dump. An
absolute pigsty. Worse than his apartment in DC on its worst
days. He was lying in a small single mattress on the floor in the
middle of a disaster area. A familiar disaster area. He
remembered. It was his old room. His room in the house he'd
shared with Mark and that other guy...Steven. That jerk Steven.
It was the summer after he'd gotten his AB from Oxford. He'd
been back in the States for summer vacation and he'd lived with
Mark, his only friend from high school.

Mark had been something of an outcast at Mulder's school.
Almost as much as Mulder himself had been. Mulder had turned
into himself for comfort and Mark had turned to drugs, crime and
whatever other trouble he could get himself into. They'd gotten
along quite well. Mulder had been thrilled when Mark decided to
go to college. He'd always been bright if somewhat disturbed. So
Mulder had decided to come and spend the summer with his old
friend in his new college town. Steve was just some jerk Mark
was friends with.

The three of them had shared a house in Maryland for the
summer. And that was where he was. That was actually where
he was. That crazy motherfucker had been right. He was here.
Granted here was about 20 years further back then he'd wanted
but still, it was unbelievable.

He jumped out of the bed and walked to the tiny mirror on the
wall. Stupid bowl haircut. No gray hairs. No wrinkles. This was
real. He was here. Or he'd gone even further off the deep end.
Either way, it was 1982 again.

He was twenty one years old. Again. And he wasn't going to
meet Scully for another ten years. His momentary excitement
gave way to a crushing disappointment when he realized this.
He'd only wanted to go back a few months, just long enough to
save her, to change that one day, not his whole bloody life.

He felt suddenly and completely at a loss. What the hell was he
supposed to do now? He didn't want to relive those ten years.
They had been miserable. And if he changed even the slightest
thing it might backfire and result in his never meeting Scully at
all.

But still, she was alive. If it was 1982 she was somewhere and
she was alive. And that made him feel alive for the first time
since she'd died. Even if he never met her in this life he would
always know that she existed somewhere. And that was a
marked improvement.

He looked around the room for something to wear since he had
woken up completely naked. There were clothes strewn
everywhere but he wasn't sure how to judge which things were
dirty and which were *really* dirty. Nothing was clean, that much
was clear.

He picked up a white T-shirt that was hanging from a chair and a
pair of gray sweatpants that had no visible signs of filth on them
and threw them on. It was time to go and face his life, no matter
how tedious and frustrating it turned out to be.

xxxxx

Mulder found Mark in the kitchen cooking eggs. It was actually
great to see his scruffy face again and Mulder almost felt like
hugging him. That wouldn't have gone over too well though.

"Morning, want some eggs?"

Well, he really was here. Mark saw him.

"Um, yeah, sure." He sat down at the kitchen table which was
littered with beer bottles and potato chip bags.

"So that was some party last night huh?"

Party? Last night? Sorry Mark, last night I was in a mental
institution.

"Uh, yeah, sure was."

"You must have a hell of a hangover man."

He didn't have a hangover but he was starting to get a
headache. Had he really lived like this?

"Yeah, yup. Sure do."

Mark placed a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Mulder.

"Eat this. It'll help."

Mulder dug into the meal and was surprised to find himself
enjoying it. It was the first food he'd been able to taste since
Scully had gone.

"So, you psyched for that 4th of July party tomorrow?"

Mulder smiled to himself. 4th of July. At least Crazy Larry had
gotten the day right. He nodded in what he hoped passed for an
enthusiastic way. He never really liked parties. Even then. He
had gone to a lot of them that summer though, mostly to humor
Mark.

If he remembered correctly though, he hadn't gone to the one on
the 4th of July. A horrible recollection set in and he suddenly
wasn't hungry anymore. He had spent that particular 4th of July
on the phone with Phoebe. Talking about her upcoming visit to
Maryland. To him. Jesus fucking Christ. That was one thing he
was going to HAVE to change. He couldn't bear the thought of
two years with that woman no matter what.

"It's gonna be great man, totally huge. Lots of freshmeat."
Mulder grimaced. Freshmeat was Mark's loving term for
freshman girls. He was starting to wonder why he had gotten
along so well with this guy. He was a good person inside, Mulder
knew, but on the outside he could be a little...crass.

"Yeah, there's a pre-college orientation thing this weekend so
there should be lots of innocent young ladies wandering about,
waiting to be corrupted. Not that you should be thinking about
that my man. I keep forgetting that you're taken."

He was taken. Ugh.

"Yeah well, I'm not sure how much longer that's gonna be the
case."

"What? She dump your sorry ass already?"

"No, actually, I've been thinking about dumping hers." God that
felt surprisingly good to say.

"Excuse me? Where did this come from?"

"I dunno, just something tells me that she's not the right person
for me." And that was the understatement of the universe.

"She's hot man."

"Not really." No way. Mulder knew what hot was now and it was
not Phoebe Green.

"Well, that's cool. You should enjoy the party even more then."

Mulder seriously doubted that. He was sure the whole thing
would irritate him now more than ever. And he certainly wasn't
about to go trolling for "freshet". But he would go. It wasn't like
he had anything better to do with his time.

xxxxx

Dana was bored. There was no way of getting around it. She
was at her first bona fide college party and she was bored off
her ass. She absently took a drag off her cigarette, hoping it
made her look like she had something to do. And that maybe,
just maybe, it made her look older than fourteen.

She glanced nervously around for her friend Rebecca again.
Rebecca had dragged her here in hopes of meeting some of
their soon to be classmates. So far Dana had met no one and
Rebecca seemed to have abandoned her.

There were so many people here. It seemed like the entire state
was packed into this one tiny house. They spilled out onto the
lawn and into the pool too. It was the biggest party Dana had
ever been to. She found it all very intimidating. She was not
generally the most social person in the world. She had managed
to make a small group of friends in high school but that was all
over now. Once again, she had to start over.

At least she still had Rebecca. They had been friends for two
years now and they had just moved into an apartment near
campus. It was the first time Dana had lived anywhere but her
parents house. Her family only lived twenty minutes away but it
was still scary and exciting.

Kind of like this party. Minus the exciting part. Dana took a swig
from the plastic cup of Budweiser she was holding and told
herself not to vomit. She was hoping if she managed to stomach
enough of the vile stuff this party might get more interesting. Or
at least seem to. So far she just felt nauseous.

She was suddenly nostalgic for past nights spent with high
school friends on the beach, or at someone's house, sitting
around and talking about life and boys and other stupid things.
That had been fun. Not like this. How was she supposed to get
to know anyone in this zoo? How was she supposed to even
introduce herself? She felt more lonely than she would have if
she'd been alone.

Someone bumped into her from behind, interrupting her
musings. She turned around to face a large man with a chiseled
face and bulging muscles. He looked wasted. And mean. He
looked like someone Rebecca would like. But he wasn't Dana's
type at all.

"Oops. Sorry sweetie." Sweetie? Dana did almost vomit at that.

"Hey you look kinda young to be drinkin'. How old are ya babe?"

She tried to hide her grimace of disgust. At least someone was
talking to her. Or rather shouting at her.

"I'm eighteen."

"Really? No shit. You look younger. So, you're legal then." He
leaned in close enough for her to smell the liquor on his breath.
He was starting to make her nervous.

"Actually the drinking age is twenty-one in Maryland."

Her new friend burst out laughing.

"I wasn't talking about drinking babe, I was talking about
fucking."

Great. That was just swell. This was actually worse than
standing by herself.

"Um, look, I've gotta go, I see my friend over there so..." She
started to walk away but the man grabbed her arm.

"Wait babe, don't go, what's your name? My name's John."

"Well John, I really have to go." She pulled her arm from his
grasp and ducked behind another huge man. Everyone here was
so damned big. Goddamn assholes. She was sick of this stupid
party. She wanted to go home. If only she could find Rebecca.

xxxxx

"God this place is packed."

"What?"

Mulder raised his voice a few decibels to be heard over the din.

"I said it's packed."

Mark nodded and grinned. "Great huh?"

Mulder smiled weakly. Great. Just great. He wanted to go home
already. There were too many people and he was a tad
claustrophobic. The music was deafening and the place smelled
like smoke, stale beer and vomit. College party. Hooray.

Mulder was still pretty happy about his accomplishment from
earlier that day though. Phoebe had called as he had
remembered to ask when he wanted her to come and visit. What
a rare treat it had been to tell her that he didn't think she should
come at all. That maybe, if he felt like it, he'd give her a call
when he was back in England. She'd seemed more shocked
than crushed. Her little puppy wasn't sniffing around her feet
anymore.

All in all it had been a delightful conversation and he was still
feeling a little giddy from it. But not giddy enough to make this
situation livable. It was worse than he even remembered it.

He wished that Scully were there. They would have spent a few
minutes laughing at the drunken morons and then slip off to
some quiet restaurant. Maybe watch the fireworks in the park.
He sighed sadly. Scully was years away. He had this to deal with
first.

He started looking around for the keg. There was no way he'd
live through this night without at least a drink or two. He waded
his way through throngs of people and eventually found the
kitchen. There were a bunch of guys standing around the keg
having a belching contest. Lovely.

He got himself a drink and stood against the wall, observing the
frantic activity around him with disinterest. Some people were
dancing. Others were shouting in each other's ears, trying to
communicate he supposed. Some people were just collapsed on
couches in chemically induced stupors.

"Get a load of that one." It was Steve. He was pointing rudely
out the kitchen doorway at what Mulder could only assume was
a piece of "freshmeat". He glanced in her direction. She was
pretty in a traditional sort of way. The sort of way Mulder might
have been bowled over by before he met Scully. She was tall
with long legs, long curly brown hair, lots of makeup, and skinny
as a rail. Yeah she was his type all right. Back when he'd had a
type.

But he was more intrigued with her friend. She was talking to a
smaller girl whose head was turned slightly away. He could tell
she was pretty though. She had long wavy red hair that hung
almost to her hips. She was wearing baggy clothes which only
served to accentuate how tiny she was. She looked very young.
Too young to be drinking that beer and smoking that cigarette
nervously. She also looked very unhappy. She seemed to be
telling her friend something urgent. Probably that she wanted to
go home. It was certainly a sentiment Mulder could relate to.
She was cute. There was something about her. He couldn't stop
looking.

"Pretty hot huh?"

"Which one?"

"Which one? Are you kidding? The babe not her little sister
dude. Man you're sick." Mulder shrugged. Maybe he was.

Then she turned. She was walking angrily away from her friend,
or big sister, right in Mulder's direction. And he saw her face.
And he saw her eyes. And he died. And he was reborn.

It was her.

God, it was her.

He was paralyzed. He couldn't move or speak as she stalked
towards him. He could only stare. Gape.

She pushed through the crowd and eventually past him. She
seemed to him to be moving in slow motion even though she
was probably walking very fast. She brushed against him as she
stormed away and fixed him with a ball breaking glare. The way
he was looking at her must have bothered her.

She scowled at him again and moved through the back door.
And then she was gone.

It was definitely her.

And he had no idea what to do. Should he follow her outside?
Try to talk to her? The very thought sent tremors of excitement
through his whole body.

But what if that screwed things up? What if he screwed things
up? What if he destroyed her life all over again? For the first
time he thought maybe he should just stay away entirely, save
her from the misery of ever knowing him, let alone being killed
because of him.

He told himself to stay away. At least until it was time. But he
knew that all the guilt, all the self-reproach in the world wasn't
going to be enough to keep him away in the long run. He needed
her. God how he needed her. And this time he would do it right.
He would take care of her this time. No one was going to hurt
her ever again. Including him.

And as soon as it looked like he was hurting her, he would be
gone, out of her life forever. He just wanted to talk to her. Just
this one time. Just tonight. Just tonight.

end part two

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Title: Eleventh Hour (3/11)
Author: Rachel Anton
E-mail: RaValliano@aol.com
Rating: NC-17
See part one for summary, disclaimer, etc.

"Goddamn stupid party. Stupid fucking people." Dana worked
her way through the crowded lawn, cursing this place, her life,
and anything else that popped into her head. Eventually she
found a quiet spot on the far side of the lawn. She was far
enough that she could barely see the party and it was so dark
there that no one could see her. She sat down in the grass and
lit another cigarette. She was smoking way too much tonight. It
seemed to be the only thing keeping her even remotely calm.

For some reason as she sat there, her mind drifted back to the
strange man she'd run into on her way out. He was the only
person who'd even made the slightest impression on her in this
hell hole. Maybe it was because he'd been staring at her like a
lunatic. Or maybe it was his eyes. The way they seemed to
penetrate her very soul. Or maybe it was just that he was
damned cute.

But he was here. He was at this party from hell and that was
enough to make her hate him. But still, he was in her head and
he wouldn't leave. He seemed almost familiar but she knew she
had never met him. She would have remembered those lips.

"Whatcha doin out here all by yourself?"

She jumped, startled, and looked up. It was her new buddy John
again. Jesus Christ.

"I needed some SPACE." She said, hoping he would get the
hint.

"Oh, I gotcha, sounds like a good idea."

He sat down next to her, not getting the hint. John was not too
bright apparently.

"Actually I was thinking I should get back. I'm sure my
*boyfriend* is looking for me."

She laughed to herself just saying it. Boyfriend. Right.

"Boyfriend huh? Now why don't I believe that?"

"I don't know John but you should. He's a marine and he gets
really jealous. He wouldn't be too happy to find you out here with
me so..."

He grabbed her arm. Tight. Too tight.

"Yeah, okay, your marine boyfriend. Why don't you just drop the
bull and sit here with me. I won't bite. Unless you want me to."

She pulled at her arm but he had a steel grip. He wasn't going to
let her go. She felt a panicky feeling start to rise in her chest and
told herself to calm down. She could handle this. She could
handle anything.

"C'mon babe. Don't play hard to get. What are you shy?"

"I'm not shy and I'm not playing anything. I'm not interested so
just let me go."

She realized she was starting to sound frantic. She needed to
get control back. She tried to stand but he pulled her back down
and pushed her to the ground.

He was so big, so much bigger than her. Her brother Bill
probably wouldn't have been able to take him. How was she
supposed to?

She felt the burn of tears beginning in the back of her throat.
She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't let him see her cry.

But he was on top of her. He was on top of her and he was so
heavy and she couldn't breath and he was kissing her. God, he
was kissing her and he was disgusting and huge and she felt the
tears start to fall despite her efforts.

He had her pinned to the ground, his hands holding her wrists
and she knew what was coming, she knew what was going to
happen to her. There was no one to help her, or even hear her if
she cried out. She was alone.

He started to touch her more forcefully and grind his body
against hers and she used the one weapon she had, her teeth.
She bit down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood. But this only
seemed to make him angrier. He freed her wrist long enough to
smack her across the face and rip open her blouse.

She wished she had a gun. She wished she had a marine
boyfriend. She wished she'd never come to this god awful place.
And then she started to pray.

xxxxx

Where the hell had she gone? Mulder looked through the crowd
on the porch, the lawn, the pool. He'd looked everywhere. She
must have gone home. If she had he might never find her again.
He needed to keep looking.

He left the more populated area and moved towards the empty
parts of the lawn. Maybe she'd come out here to be alone. If so
she wasn't likely to be pleased to see him. But at least he could
look at her. At least he could see her eyes, her life. That would
be enough for now.

He kept walking until he reached the outskirts of the lawn. He
was far away from the party now and there was still no sign of
her.

Then he heard something. It sounded like a muffled scream. It
sounded like a woman.

He started running towards the sound but it was so dark. He
could barely see where he was going. He was only a few feet
from the fence at the end of the yard when he saw them.

It was Scully. Scully and some guy. For a minute he was
terrified that he'd come across an intimate moment and felt like
a total jackass. The man was holding her down and she was
writhing under him in a bra and jeans. He watched them for a
moment, trying to judge the situation.

It looked like she was struggling but she could have just been
excited or something. He couldn't be sure.

Then he heard her again. A tiny whimper. One word. No.

"Get off her!"

He grabbed the back of the guy's shirt with both hands and
pulled as hard as he could and then delivered what he hoped
was a strong kick to his middle section. It was enough to make
him fall beside Scully.

The guy looked confused for a minute. Then angry.

"Hey buddy, mind your own damn business okay."

He stood up to face Mulder and, he supposed, intimidate him
with his height. Mulder was too furious to be intimidated. He
balled his fist and hit him across the face. Blood shot out of his
nose and Mulder hoped that he had broken it.

Luckily the guy was so damned drunk he couldn't even hit
Mulder back. He staggered backwards into the fence and Mulder
grabbed his throat and pinned him against it.

"I think it's time to go back to the party sport."

"What the hell is your problem man?"

"Do you want more of this?" Mulder demanded, using his free
hand to belt the guy again. "I'll kill you I swear to God!"

"Alright! Jesus."

Mulder let him go and he staggered off in the direction of the
house.

Mulder turned back to Scully. She was standing with her arms
crossed over her chest, giving him that same glare. He walked
closer to her and touched her cheek gently.

"Are you okay?"

She jerked away from his touch.

"I'm fine."

Oh yeah. It was his Scully all right. He felt like dancing. He felt
like screaming. He felt like pulling her to him and never letting
go.

His Scully. This had happened to her. And he hadn't been
around the first time. How far had it gone? Had that man raped
her? Why had she never told him? He felt like crying suddenly.

Not this time though. This time he was doing it right. But why
had she come out here with this jerk in the first place? He felt
suddenly and inexplicably angry. Why was she always putting
herself in danger like this?

"Are you sure? You don't look fine."

She really didn't. Her shirt was ripped and there was the
beginning of a nasty bruise on her cheek. She was shaking and
there were tears streaming down her face.

"I said I was fine. I can take care of myself."

"Can you?"

"Look I was handling it all right. It's none of your business
anyway."

"Oh yeah, you were handling it great. Why the hell did you come
out here with that asshole anyway? What were you thinking?"

He regretted the words instantly. He was talking to her as if he
knew her. Like he had some kind of claim on her life. The way
he would have talked to her in their future. And even then it
would have pissed her off. Now it positively infuriated her.

"Excuse me? What the hell does that have to do with you? Who
the hell are you? You're not my fucking father!"

She started to walk away from him. It was the same thing. It was
the same fucking argument. He wasn't going to let it happen
again. He couldn't let her get away. Not like this.

"My name is Fox Mulder. And you're right. And I'm sorry."

She turned back to him. That was something.

"Well Fox Mulder, for your information I didn't come out here
with him, as you know because you were gaping at me when I
came out by MYSELF. I came out here to get away from this
goddamn zoo but it seems to have followed me so I'm going
home."

She turned haughtily on her heel and started walking back to the
party. He ran after her and started walking beside her.

"Wait!"

"What?" she scowled. She hated him already. It made him sad
but it also excited him. She was Scully. She was invigorating,
frustrating, challenging. She was the same woman he'd fallen in
love with. And she was here, alive.

"How are you going to get home?"

"I'm going to find my friend. She drove me here. Not that that's
any of your business either."

He couldn't help but smile. It was Scully. Scully, he had to stop
calling her that. He wasn't even supposed to know her name yet.
He needed to ask before he screwed up.

"So, what's your name?"

She stopped and turned to him.

"Look, I am not in the mood for this all right?"

"Is your friend that girl with the brown hair? I saw her before.
She didn't look ready to leave."

She sighed audibly and rolled her eyes.

"Oh. I get it now. Her name is Rebecca and she's inside. I don't
run interference for her so if you wanna talk to her go do it
yourself."

She stormed away from him again and he groaned at his own
stupidity. Now she thought he was after her friend. What was he
going to do wrong next?

"No. No, I don't wanna talk to her. I just...I just wanna know your
name. And to know that you're gonna get home all right. That's
all."

He looked into her eyes and prayed that she could see what was
there, that she could feel the honesty, the connection. He prayed
that she could trust him, that he hadn't lost that.

xxxxx

He seemed sincere. He seemed to be on the level. He didn't
seem drunk. But Dana was still wary. How was she supposed to
trust anyone at this place?

He had helped her though. For whatever reason. Had he done it
so that he could have her to himself and do the same thing?

No. That just wasn't right and she knew it.

Fox Mulder. He sounded like a spoiled little rich boy. Fox.
Whatever.

And what the hell was his problem? Acting like her father, acting
like what had happened had been her fault. Condescending jack
ass, that's what he was. That's what she told herself. Or tried to.
It didn't really work.

Fox was a cute name. And an appropriate one. He hadn't just
been angry before, he'd been afraid for her. He cared. For some
reason, he cared.

"My name is Dana Scully and I have no idea how I'm going to
get home tonight."

He smiled at her and dammit he had a gorgeous smile. So
sweet, so soft and warm. Damn him.

"Well Dana Scully, I am truly sorry about the way I acted
before."

"No, I'm sorry. You...you helped me. And you're right. I needed
it. So um...thank you."

That had to be the hardest thing she'd ever said. She was
rewarded by an even wider grin, and an even cuter one. She felt
her stomach do a little flip flop at the sight. No. Not this guy. Not
at this place.

"So Dana Scully, you see your friend anywhere?"

They had reached the party and there was no sign of Rebecca.
She did see John though, sitting in a corner with his buddies,
nursing his wounds. He hadn't noticed them yet but Dana was
sure that there would be trouble if he did. Fox Mulder may have
been able to kick John's ass but he wouldn't be able to handle a
whole group of Johns.

"No, I don't see her. And I kind of think we should get out of
here."

She gestured towards John and he nodded in agreement.

"That would probably be a wise decision."

He led her out of the house and to the front lawn. There were
more people out here but she still didn't see Rebecca.

"So Dana Scully, what do we do now?"

Dana shrugged helplessly.

"I dunno. God this is a nightmare."

"These parties always are."

Well, that was a point in his favor. At least he didn't actually like
it here.

"Um, yeah I guess. I mean, I don't really know. This is the first
one I've been to."

"Well, if you're lucky it'll be your last."

She smiled for the first time all night.

"So, where would you rather be Dana Scully?"

"Um...ANYWHERE."

He laughed. He had a nice laugh. Why did he have to have such
a nice everything? Dana wasn't used to feeling so charmed so
fast.

"Seriously though, is there something else you'd rather be
doing?"

There were so many things. She didn't even know where to
start.

"I'd rather be home. I'd rather be curled up under a comforter
with a good book. I'd rather be at the beach or the park watching
the fireworks. Actually I'd love to be on a boat somewhere,
watching the fireworks over the water."

She stopped, suddenly realizing what a boring dork she probably
sounded like. She tried to think of something more exciting to
say but before she could he smiled sweetly at her and held out
his arm.

"Well, I don't have a boat but I've got a car. I can take you to the
park and we can watch the fireworks. Or I can just take you
home if you'd like."

She regarded him skeptically for a moment. She should know
better than to take a ride from a strange man. Especially after
what had just happened. But somehow, somewhere along the
line she had started to trust Fox Mulder. She didn't know why but
it was a very strong feeling.

He may be presumptuous and irritating but he wasn't going to
hurt her. She just knew it. Besides, she couldn't really think of
another way out of this besides walking the whole way home. An
even more dangerous option. Still though, it didn't seem like the
greatest idea.

"I'd like to go home I think. But um, I can probably find another
way. Thanks though."

"Another way? Like what?"

She glared at him.

"Sorry, none of my business again. I just don't want you to be
stuck. I'm a Jewish mother. I worry."

He was adorable. And he was starting to crumble the last of her
resolve.

"How about this, how about I let you drive my car home. That
way you'll be sure I'm taking you home and not to some
deserted alley or something."

He held out a set of keys to her.

"And if I start acting like a jerk, you can drive us right to the
police station. How's that?"

That did seem okay.

"Well, all right."

His face lit up like a Christmas tree. Just for letting him drive her
home. Why did he care so much? He better not be thinking he
was in for more than the pleasure of her company. Although, the
thought that he might want more sent an inexplicable tremor
through her body.

He led her to his car and she wasn't entirely surprised to see that
it was a nice new shiny one. Probably cost a fortune. Spoiled
little rich boy. She began running him down in her head again,
trying her damnedest to get rid of that stupid tremor.

She got behind the wheel and found that she had to move the
seat about a foot forward to reach the peddles. She caught him
smirking and gave him an icy glare.

"I should warn you that I just got my license."

He looked a little afraid but mostly amused.

"Well Dana Scully, this should be quite an adventure then."

end part 3

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Title: Eleventh Hour (4/11)
Author: Rachel Anton
E-mail: RaValliano@aol.com
Rating: NC-17
See part one for summary, disclaimer, etc.

Mulder was a little bit terrified. Scully was never much of a
driver. She had always made him a little nervous. But this was
downright frightening. So far she'd blown three stop signs and
practically swerved off the road.

He couldn't have cared less. He was with Scully. And he hoped
that her apartment was far far away so he could spend as much
time as possible with her. She was amazing. He was intoxicated
with her all over again. He just stared at her for the first few
minutes of the drive. Then he realized he should be talking to
her, trying to grab a chance at seeing her again.

Just tonight, his brain reminded him. Had that been bullshit all
along? Probably.

"So, um, do you go to the University?"

He felt idiotic asking her a question like that. Of course he
couldn't very well ask, do you love me yet?

"Not yet, I'm starting in the fall. How about you?"

"No, I just finished undergraduate at Oxford and I'm probably
gonna start graduate work there in the fall."

He noticed the corners of her mouth twitch down. She looked a
tiny bit disappointed that he would be gone in a couple months.
Just a tiny bit but it was definitely a good sign.

"Oxford like England?"

He nodded and she looked even sadder. Maybe he'd have to
change his plans.

"So Fox Mulder, what are you studying at Oxford in England?"

He fought back an overwhelming urge to kiss her.

"Psychology. How about you? What are you planning on
majoring in?"

She bit her lip and looked slightly bothered. And very beautiful.
Mulder was alarmed to find himself growing more and more
aroused. Not that this was any surprise. Talking to her had
always turned him on. More than anything ever.

"I'm not really sure actually. We don't have to decide till
sophomore year so...I dunno, I've been thinking about marine
biology."

Marine biology?? He tried to mask his surprise. He wasn't sure
what he had expected. It wasn't like he knew very much about
this period of her life. In fact he knew next to nothing. He
supposed he'd always just assumed she had known what she
wanted to do right from the start.

"That's, that's really interesting. What made you decide that?"

It sounded safe too. Maybe he could talk her into sticking with
that.

"I love the ocean. And I love science."

She paused and considered her response.

"I haven't really decided though. Not entirely."

"Well it sounds really great."

She smiled uncomfortably and he dropped it. She obviously
didn't like talking about this much.

"So, where did you grow up? England?"

"No, I grew up in Massachusetts, Martha's Vineyard."

"Martha's Vineyard?"

She smirked and arched her eyebrow. He could see what she
was thinking. Pampered. Rich. Spoiled. He'd seen the look
before. He'd forgotten what it felt like. He nodded somewhat
guiltily.

"What was that like?"

"Fishy."

She smiled, thank God.

"What about you Dana Scully, where did you grow up?"

"Everywhere. My dad is in the navy so we traveled a lot. Before
Maryland it was North Carolina, and before that San Francisco,
before that I think it was Seattle. I...I can't really remember what
was before that. Never England though."

"Wow, that must have been tough."

He saw a flash of sadness cross her face and just as quickly it
was gone.

"It was fine."

Of course it was. She stared silently at the road ahead of her for
a moment. And then the inevitable change of subject.

"So, what were you doing out there anyway? I mean at the party.
Did you follow me out there or something?"

This was not a subject he wanted to discuss.

"Pretty narcissistic of you to think that Dana Scully, wouldn't you
say?"

She looked embarrassed and he regretted the stupid comment.
When would he stop putting his foot in his mouth?

"Actually, I went out for some air. I was getting sick of the party
as I'm sure you can understand."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to accuse you of anything. I was just,
well...I guess I was just curious," she muttered, seeming more
embarrassed by the second.

"It's okay. I was pretty accusatory myself back there. I really had
no right. I'm really very sorry about that. What happened
before...it wasn't your fault. You know that right?"

She nodded absently, not appearing terribly convinced.

"Honestly, don't blame yourself for someone else's stupidity.
You didn't do anything wrong," he said, stressing the you in the
statement.

"Well, whatever. It's over. Thanks to you."

She turned to him and smiled and his heart did a flip flop.

"You sure it's over? I mean, are you gonna be okay?"

"I'm fine. It was nothing. Really."

Damn. She was pulling into an apartment complex. He needed
to think fast before she was gone. Should he ask for her phone
number? Give her his? That seemed so corny, so date like. But
how else would he see her again? Should he even try to see her
again? She stopped in a space near the building and undid her
seatbelt.

"Well Fox Mulder, it was nice to meet you."

He was sweating, in a total panic. Don't go Scully. Don't go.

"It was nice to meet you too. I um...I guess I'll uh...see you
around?"

She nodded and reached for the car door. She started to open it
and he sat there like a moron while his brain screamed at him to
do something. Anything. Then she stopped. She turned back to
him.

"You know, I'm actually not that tired anymore. I mean it's still
early and it is the 4th of July. I don't really feel like I've gotten
my holiday's worth."

This was good. This was very, very good.

"Do you, um...do you feel like coming in for awhile? I think I'm
gonna watch the fireworks from my fire escape. Not too exciting
I know but..."

"Yes!" he blurted out idiotically. Calm down boy, he admonished
himself. Jesus.

"I mean yeah. I mean that would be really nice."

She looked like she was trying not to laugh out loud.

xxxxx

Scully's apartment was very neat, very pleasant. Everything was
organized and in it's place. There were even plants. Living ones.
And real furniture. He thought of the dump he was living in and
cringed.

She went to her bedroom to change out of her torn clothing and
he looked around the place a bit. He stopped at the bookshelf
and perused her reading material. Melville, of course,
Shakespeare, Joyce, lots of literature. Some science textbooks.
Our Bodies Ourselves? The title jumped out at him and he
picked it up and started leafing through the pages.

It seemed to be some kind of manual for the female body. Very
interesting. The section on masturbation seemed to be very well
read.

"Learning anything?"

He jumped about a foot in the air.

"I um...I was just ah..."

He fumbled around with the book and eventually managed to
get it closed and back on the shelf.

"I didn't realize it was ah..."

She stood in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest.
She looked stern and serious. And not too happy with him. Then
miraculously her face softened and she chuckled. Thank God.

She was wearing a pair of black leggings and a gray sweatshirt.
And leg warmers. Scully wore leg warmers. He felt a little less
embarrassed when he noticed that.

"Come on nosy face."

She led him out to the fire escape which was surprisingly large
and comfortable. She set up a few blankets over the rickety floor
and there was room for both of them to stretch out and watch
the fireworks. Not enough room for there to be more than a few
inches between them though. It was perfect. They sat together
for awhile in a comfortable silence looking at the lights in the
sky. And each other.

xxxxx

Dana was starting to feel better and better. She had been very
shaken by what had happened earlier but she had managed to
put it almost completely out of her head by now. Fox Mulder was
a comforting presence. She didn't know why but she was starting
to like having him around. So much so that she'd taken a huge
leap of faith and invited him in here. It certainly wasn't the
smartest thing she'd ever done but she hadn't been able to help
herself. It hadn't looked like he was going to ask for her number
or anything and she'd been afraid that she'd never see him
again. Letting him go seemed like a very sad thing to her.

So now she was sitting with him on the fire escape, so close that
she could smell him and she was starting to wonder what it
would feel like to kiss him.

She turned to him and found that he was looking right back at
her. They both smiled shyly and he reached between them,
taking the small cross she wore in his hand. She looked at him
curiously, hoping he didn't think she was some old-fashioned
religious freak.

"This is pretty. Are you very religious?"

"K..kind of. I mean I was. I mean...I don't really know actually."

How did this guy know exactly what to ask to make her
completely flustered? He smiled though, seeming to understand
so she continued.

"I was raised Catholic and I believed for most of my life but now,
I'm just not sure anymore. I mean, sometimes I look around and
I feel like there has to be a God because there's so much beauty
in the world. And then other times, it seems like there's so much
horror, how could God let it happen? And of course I can't ignore
the conflicts between the traditional teachings of the church and
the scientific facts that I know to be true. And politically, I find
myself at odds with the church almost constantly. So...um, I'm
really not sure."

She finished with a chuckle. Poor guy had opened a real can of
worms here. But still he seemed interested and understanding.

"So, do you think there's an order to the universe or do you think
things happen completely at random? I mean do you believe in
fate?"

He looked at her pointedly and she felt another annoying tremor.

"Well Fox Mulder, I think those are two different questions. I do
believe there's an order to the universe but the question of fate
is an entirely separate issue."

"Okay, good point. So, my question is I guess, do you believe in
fate. Do you think there are certain things we're predestined to
do, certain people we're predestined to meet, no matter what?"

He was still holding her cross, turning it over in his fingers again
and again. And the way he was looking at her, she was starting
to believe in this fate he was talking about.

"What exactly are you suggesting?"

"I'm not suggesting anything Dana Scully. Just a simple
question."

"Well then, I'd have to say no. I don't think I believe in fate. I
think we make our own choices and decisions and have the
ultimate control of our destinies. I have to believe that. What's
the point of even trying if everything's already been decided."

She realized suddenly that they were both whispering. And that
he was really, really close.

"Okay, but don't you ever feel that things are, for lack of a better
term, in the stars for you. Hasn't anything ever happened to you
that made you think, wow, that was fate. That was more than a
coincidence."

His eyes moved over her lips and her throat felt very dry all the
sudden.

"Um...sometimes."

Like now.

"But still, ultimately I have to believe in free will. I mean..."

She was interrupted by a loud crash from inside the apartment.
He was immediately on his feet.

"What the hell was that?"

"I dunno."

"Wait here and I'll check."

He started to go inside and she followed him.

"No way, I'm coming with you."

He turned to her with a mixture of annoyance and amusement.

"Of course you are."

He opened the door to the apartment only to find Rebecca
rolling around on the floor with some guy. They seemed to have
knocked over a lamp in their activities, leading to the crash.

"Steve?"

The guy got off Rebecca and turned to face Fox Mulder.
Apparently they knew each other.

"Mulder, what are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?"

Rebecca stood up and brushed herself off muttering, "I think it's
pretty obvious what we're all doing here."

She gestured at Steve and introduced him to Dana. They shook
hands awkwardly.

"And you must be Rebecca. My name's Mulder."

The two shook hands and Dana cringed at the way Rebecca
looked him over. She waited for him to do the same thing back
to her but he didn't. In fact he turned back to Dana.

"See Dana Scully, fate. Your roommate, my roommate, see
what I mean?"

He whispered it to her and she smiled at what she realized was
now their private joke. She liked that.

"C'mon Steve, let's leave the kiddies alone."

Rebecca took his hand and led him off to her bedroom. Dana
couldn't understand how she could just sleep with a total
stranger like that. Not that it was a surprise. It happened all the
time. She suddenly felt very awkward. Was that what he was
expecting from her? Had she given him that impression just by
inviting him in?

"So, um...is that what people call you? Just Mulder?"

"Yeah, usually. I'm not too fond of Fox as a name generally
speaking."

"Is that what you want me to call you?"

"If you'd like. You can call me whatever you want Dana Scully."

"Well, if I call you Mulder, you've gotta call me Scully. Gender
equality and all that."

For some unknown reason this caused him to beam at her.

"I can deal with that."

end part 4

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Title: Eleventh Hour (5/11)
Author: Rachel Anton
E-Mail: RaValliano@aol.com
Rating: NC-17
See part one for summary, disclaimer, etc.

July 17, 1982

I haven't kept a journal in years. When I was twelve I had one.
Bill stole it and showed it to his friends. That was the last time.
Even now I feel some anxiety about putting my deepest feelings
down on paper, leaving evidence of what's inside me. But
there's really no one who would bother stealing it now. And there
is certainly no one I can truly talk to about this. No one who
could ever understand. And I need to talk about it. I need to
admit it, if only to myself.

I'm in love. Wow. It sounds as stupid as I thought it would.
Stupid but true. I am in love and it makes absolutely no sense.

I met Mulder less than a month ago. We've never kissed, never
even hugged, and yet I my love for him fills every moment of
my being. The first night I met him, we spent hours talking. Just
talking about everything and nothing, watching the sunrise from
the fire escape, catching eyes, smiling at each other. When that
night was over I knew, I love him.

We've spent almost every single day together since then. We've
been going to the movies, the park, for long walks and long
talks. Sometimes we just stay at my apartment and watch TV
and talk all night.

I've never had a friend like this. I've never known anyone who I
could share my quiet time with like this. And he actually enjoys
it. He's not thinking about partying and who he's going to have
sex with next constantly. He's thinking about philosophy and
science and art and religion and...well everything! He's the
smartest person I've ever known.

And he doesn't just talk endlessly like most semi intelligent guys.
He doesn't try to impress me with his huge vocabulary and
knowledge of micro biology. He listens to me, really listens. Not
just like a nodding idiot. And I can tell he's really listening
because sometimes he will challenge something I've said, and
we'll have a an argument, or a debate, and it's fun. It's actually
fun.

I've never enjoyed arguing with people before. I hate the
conflict, the inevitable animosity. But with Mulder it's different.
His ideas are so unusual, so different from mine, that it's
exciting, invigorating to talk to him. Sometimes he teaches me
and sometimes I teach him, but either way, we never walk away
angry.

Rebecca can't stand him. She thinks he's dark and disturbed.
She just doesn't understand his sense of humor. She doesn't
understand anything about him. She thinks he is strange and
bad for me. I don't care. I don't care what anyone thinks. He is
wonderful. He is caring, sweet, funny, gorgeous, brilliant, and
the best part is he has no idea that he is any of those things.
Well, maybe he knows he's brilliant, he can be a tad arrogant
about his mind. But he is adorably self conscious about
EVERYTHING else.

He makes me feel like there is no one in the world but the two of
us. We can be in a room full of people and he will look at no one
but me, talk directly to no one but me. He makes me feel special
and loved just by being around him.

Of course, I have no idea if I am loved. I don't know if he sees
me as a good buddy, someone to hang out with for the summer,
or if there is more. Sometimes he will touch me a certain way,
throw a veiled suggestion at me, but he never follows through. I
can never tell if he is serious or just kidding around with me. I
would like to find out.

He's leaving for England in two months and I need to know how
he feels before he goes. I need to know if I will ever see him
again. God, it kills me to think that I might not. It's ridiculous.
I've known him two weeks and I feel like I can't live without him.
Stupid stupid stupid. I keep telling myself he's just a guy, don't
get hooked, don't get hurt, and I'm trying, really I am. But I trust
him. With my heart even. How can that be?

I have to stop writing now because he's on his way to pick me
up. We're going into DC to look at the monuments at night. This
is the kind of thing he actually likes to do. Unbelievable.

xxxxx

Mulder was happy. Happier than he could ever remember being.
There had been times with Scully when he had been happy but
they were fleeting. They never lasted. There was always some
crisis or another to interrupt their few moments of peace. This
was the longest stretch of uninterrupted happiness he'd ever
had.

He'd spent nearly every day with her for the past two weeks and
they got closer every time he saw her. She was a little different
because she was so young but her essence was the same.
Beautiful, brilliant, and exciting as hell. The fact that he'd been
able to gain her friendship and trust again was the best gift he
could have ever received.

He was so happy, he almost felt guilty. There were so many
things he hadn't told her about his family, his past, everything.
he hadn't wanted to burden her with his troubles, the way he had
the first time around. He'd wanted to get to know her as a
person, to make up for his selfishness, but it didn't seem honest
somehow. She'd told him so much about herself and he'd told
her virtually nothing.

He had started thinking about that when his mother had called.
She wanted him to come up for a visit. Just thinking about it
brought up a million and one unresolved issues. His father was
still alive in 1982. There was so much that needed to be dealt
with differently. He wanted to share it with Scully.

Worse than those omissions though, Mulder was beginning to
feel very odd about not telling Scully how he had come to be
here. He wanted to tell her about their past, or future, or
whatever it was, together. Not that she was likely to believe him.
But he felt like he was lying to her by not telling her. He knew he
couldn't live with that for much longer.

That would mean telling her about her abduction, her death, a
lot of horrible things. He didn't want to scare her. He didn't want
to make her think he was a lunatic either. His worst fear was that
he would tell her these things and she would never want to see
him again.

He put these concerns temporarily out of his head as he drove
them across the beltway and into the city. He was having trouble
concentrating on anything but her at the moment. She was
wearing tighter jeans than usual. She usually wore very baggy
clothes and he had suggested to her a few days ago, in a way he
hoped hadn't made him sound like a pig, that she might wanna
wear something that showed off her body a little more. She had
looked embarrassed at the time and asked what there was to
show off. Lots had been his answer and she seemed to have
listened.

And her hair. She'd tied her flowing tresses into two braids
hanging down either side of her face. Pigtails. They made her
look even younger than usual but they were adorable. And he
could actually see her face for once.

He reached between them and took one of them in his hand.
She turned to him and her face was flushed. Was she
embarrassed or excited by his touch? She was still such a riddle.

"They look stupid right?"

"No. They're cute."

She grimaced.

"Cute is stupid."

"No, cute is cute. I like them. You look really pretty."

She smiled and blushed again. He pulled his hand away when
he realized he was getting an erection. Don't wanna go there, he
warned himself for the millionth time. She was so young, the last
thing she needed was to be corrupted by his perverted desires.
He'd been trying, Lord how he had been trying not to feel them
at all. But she was so damned hot. She was Scully for Christ's
sake. And he was twenty-one years old again, hormones running
wild through his body. He couldn't avoid thinking about it. But he
would control himself. He had to. It just wouldn't be right. Not
now. Not yet.

xxxxx

Scully sighed to herself. Why did he always do that? He would
touch her, say something sweet and then randomly and
suddenly pull away from her. She'd been waiting for the day he
didn't pull away for a long time. The day he took her face in his
hands and kissed her. Her patience was running out. They didn't
have all that much time together and she was starting to think
she needed to be the one to make that day happen. The thought
terrified her but she didn't know how much longer she could go
on like this, not knowing.

Mulder found a parking space close to the monuments and they
started walking around the city. It was so beautiful at night. She
stared at the lights from the buildings and he stared at the sky.
They walked side by side and she was struck by an
overwhelming urge to take his hand in hers. She jammed her
fists deep into her pockets, trying to suppress the desire.

When they reached the Jefferson Memorial he turned to her.

"My mother called me today."

She looked at him questioningly. He'd never mentioned his
mother other than telling her his parents were divorced.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Not sure. She wants me to come and visit her."

She felt instantly territorial. If he went to the vineyard he would
be away from her, possibly for days.

"Are you going to go?"

"Probably. Probably next weekend."

Scully tried to hide her disappointment.

"What's she like?"

"Um..."

Mulder gazed towards the sky, seeming to search for an
appropriate adjective.

"Fragile, she's fragile."

Fragile? Scully couldn't imagine having a fragile mother.

"How come?"

He shrugged and fiddled with the fabric at the bottom of his
T-shirt. Mulder didn't talk about his family very often and she
hadn't asked but she'd always been curious, and somewhat
concerned for some reason.

"She's had kind of a rough time. Scully...there's some stuff I
haven't told you about. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you
to worry or be upset for me because it's not such a big deal
anymore. I mean I'm over it but..."

"But what?"

She was suddenly terrified.

"But it's part of who I am and I need you to know about it."

She gestured for him to sit next to her on the steps and he did.
And then he started talking. She didn't interrupt, just listened to
his story. And what a story it was. A story of a missing sister and
a bitter father, of emotional neglect, verbal abuse, nights when
his father would get so drunk he didn't know what he was doing,
nights when he would hit his terrified son and his helpless wife,
the guilt Mulder had felt for letting his sister go. It was the
saddest thing she had ever heard. She knew he wasn't looking
for her pity, he was telling her because it was his life, it helped
make him the person he was. He didn't want her to feel bad for
him. But she did and it made her cry.

He reached over and wiped the tears that were flowing freely
down her cheeks.

"No Scully, don't cry. Please don't cry. It's okay."

"It's not okay Mulder. It's not. It's terrible. I'm so sorry. I can't
even imagine what that must have been like."

She really couldn't. Her own family was far from perfect. There
were times when she'd hated all of her siblings and her father
was a stern authoritarian figure who dolled out love and
approval like table scraps, but she had never endured anything
like this. No one had ever put her down the way Mulder's father
had done to him. And as much as her brothers and sister
annoyed her, she couldn't imagine the pain and guilt she would
have felt if one of them had vanished mysteriously.

She took one of his hands tightly in her own.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

He flashed her a toothy grin. He honestly didn't seem that upset
about it.

"It's okay Scully. Really, it is."

"Okay, but if you ever want to talk about it, don't hesitate. I'll be
here."

He squeezed her hand in acknowledgment and started to pull
away. She wouldn't let go. Not this time. She pulled back. Then
she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. His eyes
squeezed shut and she took the opportunity to kiss his eyelids.
She moved on slowly to his forehead, and then his chin. He was
trembling and seemed to be holding his breath.

She was so close to his mouth. She paused for a moment to
admire the glistening moisture, the fullness of his lower lip. She
had to do this. She just had to.

She took a deep breath and nervously touched her mouth to his.
She pressed gently and for a moment got no response from him
whatsoever. Then suddenly it was as if the floodgates inside him
came crashing open. He captured her lips and kissed her with an
overwhelming passion, a passion she'd never known in her life.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her tightly
against him. He moaned against her and his tongue plunged
hungrily into her mouth. She began to feel a little dizzy. She'd
never been kissed like this, never felt anything like this. It was
just a kiss but it was the most emotionally fulfilling, sexually
thrilling moment of her life. She was tingling everywhere. She
was more aroused than she had ever been before. Her heart
was pounding so loud and so fast, it was all she could hear.

His hand slipped under her shirt and he started stroking her
stomach lightly. His touch felt like fire against her bare skin. How
could anything feel so good? She actually cried out into his
mouth from the sensation.

She never, ever wanted this kiss to end.

xxxxx

He was kissing Scully. Actually kissing her. God help him, he
couldn't stop. It was too good. Too much. There were reasons
he shouldn't be doing this but for the life of him he couldn't
remember what they were. She tasted so sweet. And the sounds
she was making, the way she was writhing around in his arms,
were making him absolutely crazy. She was horny as hell. And it
was making him hot. Too hot.

The angle they were at was becoming a little awkward so she
climbed into his lap, he supposed so she could reach his mouth
better. It was too much.

He gasped as her bottom made contact with the erection
straining against his pants. This was bad. But God it was good.

And very, very bad. He was going to end up fucking her on the
steps of the Jefferson Memorial in front of a group of Japanese
tourists if they didn't stop soon. People were already starting to
stare.

He tore his mouth reluctantly away to try and speak to her.

"Scully..."

She ground against him and he buried his face in the crook of
her neck, biting the skin there to keep from screaming. She
grabbed the back of his head and pressed in the direction of her
breasts.

No. This had to stop. Jesus, it had to stop right now.

"Scully."

He pulled his head from her grasp and looked at her face. Her
skin was red with flush and her lips were parted. She was
panting. Christ, she was panting. Her eyes were as wild as he
felt.

"Scully, we can't...this...here...I..."

She laughed breathlessly.

"No, I guess we can't. You wanna get out of here Mulder?
Maybe go back to my apartment?"

She stroked his face and gave him a look he'd been waiting for
from her for a million years.

"Um, Scully..."

He had no idea how much further she wanted to take this. And
he knew he couldn't turn her down, no matter how far that was,
no matter how wrong it was.

"Mulder, I want you. I want to be with you. I want you to make
love to me."

"Oh...Scully. God."

She leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Do you want that
Mulder? Do you want me?"

He wondered how she could even ask. The evidence of his want
was pressing into her backside.

"I wa...yes. I want that. I want you. Scully. I want you so much.
But I think...."

What did he think? He couldn't tell her that she was too young
for him, that it wasn't their time yet, that he was a pervert for
even kissing her in the first place. She wouldn't understand that.
She would think he was rejecting her.

But he couldn't take advantage of her in this state. It was
probably just overworked teen-aged hormones at work. He
needed to give her a chance to cool down, to think about it
rationally, and God knew he needed a chance to do that.

"I think maybe we should think about it some Scully. Talk about
it some."

"Talk?" she muttered, starting to place delicate kisses on his
neck.

"Y...yeah, you know...um, make sure that it's really what you
wa..." he broke off into a moan as she shifted against him and
licked the sensitive spot behind his ear. She sure wasn't making
this easy.

"It's what I want," she whispered into his ear.

"Scully, you th...think it is bu..."

"I don't think. I know."

She ran her fingers over his biceps and under the sleeves of his
shirt and started kissing his neck more aggressively, licking him
and biting. His hands squeezed at her waist involuntarily and he
groaned in frustration.

"We...we've gotta um, go...away..."

A group of teenage girls walked past them on the steps, giggling
and Mulder thought he saw a woman covering her little boy's
eyes. They really were making a scene here and it was only
bound to get worse.

"Sc...Scully, gotta go..."

She interrupted him with another kiss and he lost himself in it,
forgetting where they were and who he was for a blessed
moment.

He realized there was only one way he was going to get her off
these damn steps. He stood up and carried her down.

He ignored her muffled protests and the stares of the tourists
and took her all the way back to the sidewalk. Then he placed
her down on her feet next to him.

She looked at him questioningly.

"We've gotta go Scully."

"To my apartment then?" her tongue darted out to moisten her
lips and he almost groaned again.

"I dunno, we need...you need...we should think about it a little."

He couldn't miss the disappointed look in her eyes, the pout on
her mouth. It made him want to sob. He was letting her down
again. But in the long run, it would be better for her.

They walked through the city and he tried not to touch her, tried
not to look at her. Tried to ignore the throbbing need between
his legs. He couldn't do this. It wouldn't be right. The more he
thought about it the more he knew it to be true. She had only
known him a couple of weeks. There was no way she could have
fallen in love with him in such a short time and he wouldn't feel
right about being with her this way unless he knew that she
loved him. She was young and he was a new, exciting person in
her life. That was why she wanted this and he refused to take
advantage of that. Even though he wanted her more than
anything in the world. It wasn't fair to her. Besides that, getting
involved with him romantically was bound to hurt her in the long
run. That's why he had avoided it the first time around.

He ran through the arguments as they walked in the futile not
horny attempt. They made sense. They were logical and
appropriate. But they didn't make her look any less alluring in
her tight jeans and tank top and cute little pig tails, they didn't
make all the blood in his body stop rushing directly to his cock
when he stood near her, they didn't make him love her any less
than he always had and, in the long run, they wouldn't be able to
keep him away. Unless she stopped wanting him.

Either way, he needed to give her time to decide that this was
what she wanted. Or didn't want. It was too soon. She needed
time.

end part 5

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Title: Eleventh Hour (6/11)
Author: Rachel Anton
E-Mail: RaValliano@aol.com
Rating: NC-17
See part one for summary, disclaimer, etc.

Scully was also thinking about time. Wasting time. That's what
they were doing, walking around, trying not to want each other.
And for what purpose? She wasn't about to change her mind.

She had thought about this. She had thought about it long and
hard. It wasn't a decision she took lightly. She'd been waiting for
this. Waiting for the right man and the right time and she was
sure now that this was it.

It was strange, she had said no to so many boys. Boys she had
known for a much longer time than Mulder. But she hadn't loved
those boys. She hadn't been sure. She hadn't felt the
connection. With anyone else, ever.

That connection was strong enough to make her utter a
statement she'd never thought herself capable of making.

"I want you to make love to me."

God, she had actually said that. With anyone else she would
have been too embarrassed to ever say those words. She was
simultaneously thrilled and frightened that he had driven her to
that.

By the time they reached Mulder's car she was even more
convinced that this was right. She needed to let him know how
she felt. That would convince him. If he knew she loved him, he
would be okay with this, he would know it was really what she
wanted. And maybe, just maybe, he would say it back to her.

She was absolutely petrified. She'd never said those words to
anyone but her mother and sister. And she'd been certain they
would say it right back.

She had a strong sense that Mulder did love her. How could any
man kiss her like that and not love her? But whether he would
say it was another issue.

They sat in the car together for a moment in silence. They were
alone now. Alone in a dark car. She could hear him breathing.
She could smell him. She could almost smell her own arousal.
He sat in the driver's seat saying and doing nothing, just staring
out the window and into space.

"Mulder?"

"Sorry. I was just thinking."

He turned the key to start the engine but she reached over to
stop him.

"It's all right. Don't go yet. There's something...I've gotta...I need
to tell you something."

"Scully..."

"It's important Mulder. I need to tell you."

He bit his lower lip and continued to stare out the window. He
seemed nervous. Even more so.

"Mulder I know this is strange. I know that you're not supposed
to feel this way so soon after meeting each other. But I can't
help it. I just feel this connection to you and it's so strong. I just
can't ignore it. And I..."

"Scully please!"

He looked like he was in pain. He sounded on the verge of tears.
And he still wasn't looking at her.

He knew what was coming. It was obvious that he didn't want to
hear it. But she couldn't stop now, not when she was so close.

"I just want you to know that..."

"Scully. Don't."

He sounded positively frantic, desperate for her to stop.

"I love you Mulder. I just...I just love you."

She let out the deep breath she'd been holding and turned to
him. He squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his head into the
back of the seat. Not exactly the response she'd been hoping
for. He looked more miserable than she'd ever seen him. He
didn't love her. What had she done? God what kind of fool had
she just made of herself? Throwing herself at her only real
friend, telling him she loved him. He probably never wanted to
see her again.

He was silent for a long time and she continued to berate herself
mentally. What a fool she was, what a total moron. She had
ruined everything. Why had she even kissed him?

She felt tears welling inside her after a few more minutes of
silence and was about ready to ask him to just drop her off at
home as quickly as possible. She wouldn't cry in front of him.
She wouldn't let him see what he was doing to her.

"Scully, you don't."

What? She couldn't have heard that right. He couldn't have
possibly said that. But he had, and he finally opened his eyes,
faced her and continued.

"You think you do, maybe you want to, but you don't. Not really.
You don't really know me Scully. Not all of me. Not the bad
stuff, just the stuff I've let you see. You don't know the kind of
person I can be, who I really am."

Her total despair was rapidly being replaced by overwhelming
anger as he spoke. Her chest tightened and she felt like she
might actually strike him. How dare he? How dare he question
her feelings, presume to know how she felt better than she did?
How DARE he?

"You son of a bitch," she growled through clenched teeth.

"What?"

"I open myself up to you, tell you something I've never told
anyone before in my entire life, lay my heart on the table for you
to cut to pieces, give you every ounce of trust I have and all you
can do is sit there like a jack ass and tell me I'm wrong, that I
don't know how I feel. What do you think I am? Some kind of
fucking kid? Fuck you!"

She was crying now. Stupid bastard had made her cry again.
She couldn't remember ever yelling at someone like that. It was
supposed to make her feel better but it only made her feel a
hundred times worse.

"No, Scully, I don't think that. I just don't think..."

He reached out his hand to touch her face and she swatted it
away.

"Fuck you! I don't care what you think. Do you have any idea
how hard that was for me? Fuck you."

"I have some idea. Scully...please..."

"Please what?"

He just looked at her with that stupid expression.

"Please what damn you!"

"I...uhmm."

He reminded her of a deer caught in the headlights. Total panic.
His mouth hanging open and his eyes wide with terror. She
would show him. She had to show him. He was wrong, not her.

"You think I don't know what I feel? You think I don't know what
I'm talking about? I'll show you how I feel you self-righteous little
shit."

She took his face in her hands, ran her nails up into his scalp
and dug deep into the flesh, and she kissed him. Again. God
help her. She didn't know what the hell was making her do this
but something told her it was the only way.

She kissed him with all the anger and all the love she had in her.
She pried his lips apart with her tongue and with a helpless
whimper he let her in. Their tongues met in a dance of fury and
need. Their tears fell and mingled in each others mouths.

She climbed aggressively onto him for the second time and
straddled him in the seat. He was hard again and she ground
into him wantonly causing them both to gasp. His hands groped
in the air blindly before clutching the back of her shirt. The
sound of sniffling and panting and moaning filled the car.

She felt his tongue touch the back of her throat and she knew
that she had him. She pulled back then, breaking the kiss and
leaving him open mouthed and breathless.

"So. What do you think of that?" she asked, surprised that she
could still speak at this point.

"I...huumm...Scully..."

"Do you still think I'm wrong? Do you think I could kiss you like
that if I didn't love you? Even after what you just did?"

His mouth opened and closed wordlessly. She grabbed the
collar of his shirt and pulled on it violently.

"Do you? Answer me!"

"I...I dunno Scully."

Damn him. Damn him to hell. She was starting to hate him.

He gave her a goofy grin and spoke again. "I...I do know one
thing though. I don't think you would've called me a
self-righteous little shit if you didn't love me."

Jesus H. Christ. He really was fucked in the head. She knew
that. And she loved him. She didn't care.

She kissed him again.

xxxxx

Mulder was not generally the most sane individual. But he was
certain that by now, he was certifiable. Again.

She wanted to have him, right here in the car. She was rocking
against him almost constantly now in a way that was going to
make him embarrass himself damn soon if she didn't stop. She
was kissing him again with that amazing, talented mouth of hers
and running her hands all over his chest and arms. And he was
about ready to shoot himself in the head.

If he had to pry her squirming little body away from him one
more time it was going to drive him over the edge. She was
making him crazy.

She loved him. She really did. He didn't doubt that for a second
anymore. He'd never seen Scully lose it like that about anything.
Somehow, she had fallen in love with him. Somehow he had
accomplished in two weeks what he had spent nearly ten years
trying to do. And it was too much for his resolve to withstand.
She loved him. She wanted to make love to him. Who the hell
was he to refuse her anymore? He was only hurting her by
denying her what she seemed to want so badly. And he had
vowed never to see her hurt again.

But this wasn't the place for it. Not for Scully. Not in a car in the
middle of downtown DC. Not with her back pressed into the
steering wheel and her leg crushed between him and the door. It
needed to be right. It needed to be special.

He felt her hands at his waist, pulling frantically at the bottom of
his shirt, and he grabbed them.

"MmmScully...no..."

"What? What the hell Mulder?"

"We..it's...we have to go."

He wondered how many times they were going to be forced to
repeat this little scene tonight.

"Mulder, no. I want you now."

She tried to pull her wrists out of his grip but he refused to let
her go. God only knew where she was going to try to touch him
next.

"Mulder what is your problem?"

She looked like she was getting angry and upset again.

"I just...I want...I..."

She was still moving on top of him and he was finding it difficult
to speak at all, let alone turn her down again.

"What Mulder? Tell me what you want. I'll do it. I'll do anything."

Jesus.

"Nice. Want it to be nice. Comfortable. Private, Scully."

"Mmm...this is nice..." she mumbled into his neck as she started
kissing him there again.

"N...not...oohh...God...n...nice...e..nough."

He pushed her backwards by her arms and into the steering
wheel.

"Please. Scully...please. Lemme take you home," he panted
breathlessly.

She took a deep breath and let it out.

"Mulder, you are too much of a gentleman for your own damned
good."

xxxxx

As they drove back to her apartment, Mulder prayed that he
wouldn't get pulled over. He was driving at almost twice the
legal speed limit. His fingers were trembling on the steering
wheel. He felt like his entire body was throbbing with need. He
couldn't even bear to look over at her. Every time he did she
gave him a secret, dirty smile and his fingers twitched anxiously,
ready to drive the car into a ditch just to be able to touch her
again.

He dared to meet her eyes and almost veered off into a tree.
She was so beautiful.

He was going to take her home and make love to her. To Scully.
He was going to make love to Scully. Scully wanted him. Scully
loved him. It made him ache.

"Mulder?"

"Hum?"

He was afraid. What was she going to say now? What was she
going to do to him next? She was just full of surprises tonight.

"There's um...something I haven't told you. Something you
should probably know before we do this."

He risked another look at her. She looked troubled and nervous.

"What is it Scully?"

She sighed and looked away from him.

"I dunno how you're gonna feel about this Mulder."

He couldn't think of a thing in the world that she could possibly
tell him to make him feel any differently about her. Not one
single thing. He reached between them and took her hand. He
intertwined his fingers with hers on top of her thigh. Her thigh
was warm.

"Scully, it'll be fine. Whatever it is."

She bit her lip and squeezed his hand.

"Mulder I'm kind of...um...not really very experienced with this. I
mean...I'm uh, I'm kind of a virgin."

Oh shit. Oh Jesus.

He glanced quickly at her again. She was blushing and staring
out the window.

A virgin?

He had thought she might be before tonight but the way she'd
been acting earlier, so aggressive and...sexual, it didn't even
seem possible. Then he realized, that was for him. That was
because of him. She'd obviously never been like that with
anyone else before because if she had she sure as hell wouldn't
be a virgin anymore. Any other man probably would have fucked
her back at the monument for Christ's sake.

This was all for him. She wanted to give him her virginity. It
made him happy enough to cry. It turned him on impossibly
more. But how could he take that from her?

"And I'm...I'm not just talking normal virginity here Mulder. I
mean I've never...the most I've ever done is give a guy a hand
job and that was only a couple times. I've never..."

She swallowed loud enough for him to hear it. Her palm was
slick with sweat.

"I've never even had an orgasm Mulder," she whispered.

God. Oh God. Why was this making him so hot? What the fuck
was wrong with him? This wasn't right. Not at all.

Never had an orgasm? He found the thought almost
inconceivable.

"Scully..." His voice was unnaturally high pitched. He cleared his
throat and tried again.

"Scully...I don't...I think...um, maybe this isn't the best idea. I
mean, maybe we shouldn't really do this..."

Her hand slipped out of his and he saw a tear trail down her
cheek. Her lower lip was trembling. Dammit. Goddammit! How
many times had he made her cry tonight? It had to be a fucking
world's record of stupidity.

"Scully..."

"Sure Mulder. Whatever. I get it. You don't wanna do it with a
stupid virgin. It's okay. That's why I told you in the first place, so
you could get out of it if you..."

Her voice cracked and she turned completely away from him
towards the passenger side window.

"Scully, no. That's...God, that's not it. Not at all. Jesus, don't you
realize what an attractive quality that is?"

He groped around for her hand in the dark but she had taken it
completely away. Why did he have to hurt her all the time?
When would it finally be enough?

"Attractive," she snorted. "Right, so what's the problem then?"

"The problem..."

He lifted his hand to stroke what he could reach of her face and
she jerked away.

"Scully, the problem is that I don't want to take something from
you that you might not be ready to give. I just want you to be
sure. I just..."

"Dammit Mulder!"

She turned back to him finally.

"I AM sure. Why do you have to second guess me like that? I'm
sure Mulder. This isn't something I take lightly. I've thought
about this a lot and I want it to be you. Why is this all so hard for
you to accept Mulder? I'm not a child!"

"I...I know that Scully. Look, if, if you want this then so do I but,
all I'm saying is we can take it a little slow. I mean, we don't
have to do everything tonight."

"So...so you still wanna be with me then?"

The way she asked him that broke his heart.

"Of course I do Scully, of course. I just, like I said, I just think it's
okay to take it slow. I mean, there are lots of ways to make love
Scully. Lots and lots of ways."

She slipped her hand back in his and he felt right again.

"I want you to show me all of them Mulder. I want you to show
me everything."

His foot twitched harder on the accelerator. He was going to
come in his pants if they didn't get home soon.

"Mulder, how many women have you been with?"

God, he didn't even know how to begin answering that question.
Who should he include? Only those before 1982 or everyone?
Before 1982 was a very short list. Amy from his first year at
Oxford and Phoebe. But was it entirely honest to tell her that it
was just those two?

"Um...two."

Not entirely honest but probably less frightening to her than the
actual number. It was close enough for now.

"Two? Really? That's all?"

"Y...yeah."

"That's not very many."

"Um..." he shrugged and laughed nervously.

"No, I mean that's okay. I mean it's good really. It's just fewer
than I thought. But I'm glad. I...I wouldn't want you to be too
experienced or anything. I mean I...I wouldn't want to have too
much to measure up to or anything."

"Scully, I promise you, you have nothing to worry about.
Nothing. No one has ever been as special to me as you."

That was something he could say in complete honesty, no
matter what the situation.

"Well, I just hope I don't disappoint you."

"Oh, Scully," he pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers
lightly.

"You never could. Never."

end part 6

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On To Part II