I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas

by Medusa

Notes:

This is a little thing that grew <g> from a discussion we were
having on the DD/FM Discussion Group not long before season 6
started. We all wanted a piece of Mulder - you can guess which
piece! - and actually got around to deciding to allocate a fictional
48 hours with either the man or the myth, with the 'pecking' order
to be determined by birthdate. To cut a long story short I
calculated that, barring anyone getting bonus hours and knocking
me further down the queue, I would get him for Christmas. Here
is how I figured the scenario might just play out. I've taken
liberties and you'll find that I've stretched the 48 hours a bit, but I
claim poetic license. Oh, and I warn you. This is written tongue in
cheek in some parts, and there are a couple of subtle digs here
and there. I hope my List-Sibs appreciate the Aussie humor!

I have Americanized wherever possible, with some deliberate
Ocker-isms left in. This piece isn't intended for archiving
anywhere. Also, this was started before HTGSC aired, so it's an
alternate timeline for the Christmas period of that year. Scully
(Scully who?) gets barely a mention and in my universe Mulder
isn't in love with her.

The story is told in first person, with me being, well, me. Some of
the story is based on fact and the names have been changed to
protect the innocent (hey, they never asked to be part of my
story!) and, of course, The X-Files, Fox Mulder, Dana Scully,
Walter Skinner et al all belong to the surfer dude and FOX. Don't
be mad at me CC, didn't your mother ever teach you to share?

Of course this little (or maybe not so little) story is dedicated to the
object of our List's *FOCUS* - the wonderful and talented David
Duchovny.

My thanks to LuvMulder for medical help!! This is un-beta'd,
so all mistakes are entirely my own. Feel free to nit pick.

Oh, and in case you need telling, there are a few NC-17 bits
thrown in <g>.

On with the show....

Medusa

Special dedication : To Monica, hope this brings a smile back to
your face.

Feedback is welcomed, send to medusafox@bigpond.com

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

December 19, 1998
Suburban Sydney, Australia

The humidity took my breath away as I stepped out through the
automatic doors of the air-conditioned shopping center, but I didn't
care. It was such a relief to get away from the nauseatingly
repetitive Christmas Carols muzak. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a
"Bah Humbug, Christmas" type of person. I just hate the
commercialism that goes along with the holidays and let's face it,
cotton wool draped displays that are supposed to put you in the
mood for Christmas don't cut it when you have to battle forty
degree (Celsius) temperatures outside. It's always been my wish
to have a proper White Christmas, just like on the greeting cards I
never get around to sending, and this year is gonna be the year.

Tucked safely away in my backpack were the travelers checks I'd
just picked up along with all the last minute essentials for the
modern traveler and the souvenirs that I was taking to give to
friends I'd be meeting on my travels.

I quickly negotiated my way through the parked cars until I came
to my own and pressed the remote alarm on my keyring to unlock
the doors. Settling quickly in, I turned the air conditioning up full
blast and gratefully sucked in the cold air. In just the few minutes
getting back to the car I was damp with perspiration. Gods it was
going to be GREAT getting away from this heat.

I allowed myself to begin to feel the excitement at last. Months of
long planning were finally coming to fruition. This time tomorrow,
I would be on a plane bound for Los Angeles. I was officially on
holiday from work as of yesterday. Today, Saturday, was for last
minute shopping and packing - then tomorrow afternoon my flight
was leaving.

Mentally I went over my check list again. I had my airline tickets,
my prepaid vouchers for the hotels and car rental, and now my
US currency and traveler's checks. I hadn't begun my packing
yet, always leaving that to the last possible moment. I've always
found that if I pack too early I usually end up pulling it all back out
again to fit all the last minute stuff in anyway.

I quickly checked the clock on the dashboard, 2.30pm. Good,
enough time to go home, get the goddamned packing done, call
my daughter and her husband to wish them a Merry Christmas,
then have a nice cool shower before braving the heat again to
meet my best friend, Sara, for dinner.

I suppose I should feel guilty for 'abandoning' my family at
Christmas, but truth to tell, they're fine with it. My eldest, 21 year
old Carol, and her husband live 5 hours away by road and can't
come down this year. My son, Thomas (TJ for short) aged 18, is
away with the Army, and I got this terrific offer from my cyber-pal,
Donna, in New York to come over and spend a traditional
American Christmas.

"Go for it" was Carol's enthusiastic response when I told her of
the invitation.

"Are you sure, sweetheart? I was going to come up and spend it
with you and Danny."

"Look, Mum, don't worry about us. We're going to Danny's family
anyway and if you've got the chance to have the white Christmas
that you've wanted for years, then GO! We'll still be here when
you get back. Danny can probably get away from work for an
extra couple of days over the Australia Day Weekend, we'll come
down and see you then."

"You honestly don't mind?" I asked for umpteenth time.

"For fuck's sake, Mum, just book it and go. You'll regret it for the
rest of your life if you don't."

She was right. It was a trip I'd long ago promised myself. A
genuine White Christmas and New Year's Eve in Times Square,
New York. When the invitation from Donna came along, how
could I refuse?

December 23, 7.40am
Washington DC

"Washington DC!" I said aloud as I stood in the middle of the gate
lounge. Well, National Airport, Virginia, if you want to be exact.
What the hell was I doing *here*! I reflected back on the last
three days.

The 14 hour flight from Sydney to LA on Sunday had been
uneventful. Cathy, another cyber-pal had met me at the airport
and we'd just had three of the most fun filled days of my life.
Lunch on Venice beach, a tour around Malibu, the Chinese
Theater, the Hollywood sign. I have to admit, I'm tired and I still
feel jet-lagged but ecstatically happy. Changing time zones does
crazy things to your body. It's so weird leaving Sydney at 3pm
and landing in LA at 9am the same day. Cathy and I talked so
much, and I have never laughed so hard in all my life. Despite
not having physically met before, we felt like we had known each
other all our lives. Gods I love the Internet!

Cathy had put me on the "Red-eye" from LA to New York last
night. So what, you might ask, was I doing in Washington? Good
question. Ask the 'Man Upstairs' what possessed him to have a
blizzard along the Eastern Seaboard when *I* was due to fly in!
We could have gone on to another airport, but since we had also
suddenly encountered a mechanical problem, the captain decided
to land in Washington. Now there would be Gods only knew how
many hours delay before I could get to New York.

I looked out the terminal window at the falling rain buffeting the
covered baggage trolleys that held our luggage, waiting to reload
it on to an aircraft as soon as we were given the all clear to finish
our journey. Seems like the bad weather was affecting this part of
the country too, but with rain rather than snow. My rumbling
stomach reminded me that it had been some time since the
plastic snack served on the plane had been consumed. Might as
well go find a café or something to get some breakfast. I wonder
if they have a Starbuck's here? I fell in love with their coffee on
my trip to Vancouver in March.

Settling for a serving of scrambled eggs and toast washed down
with black coffee, I sat tucked away in the corner booth of a
nondescript coffee shop and pulled out my journal. I had stopped
at a pay phone to call Donna and tell her what she probably
already knew. Her description of the weather did nothing to cheer
me up, the blizzard was set to last pretty much all day. Great. My
clothes were outside on the tarmac, I was stuck in an airport
terminal and it was two days before Christmas. Hey, at least if
there was a blizzard in NY, it meant I really would get a white
Christmas after all. If I ever made it there, of course.

A noise drew my attention away from writing in my journal. There
was something going on just outside the coffee shop. I watched
as the scene unfolded as if in slow motion. Two men in dark suits
were escorting another man down the concourse. From the table
across from me, another man stepped forward and pointed at the
group of three. There were three 'pfft' sounds and the men in
front of the coffee shop fell to the ground. I stared in horror as I
realized that they had just been shot. Someone screamed. I think
it was me. Because the next thing I knew I was staring at the
shooter and he was staring back at me. I saw him as plain as day.
And he knew I'd seen his face. He went to turn the gun on me
and my heart skipped a beat, maybe two or three. Now, I gotta
say right here that I'm not the religious type, but God or something
was watching over me that day. Before the guy had a chance to
pull the trigger, Airport Security Guards were running in our
direction. The shooter saw them coming and took off, snagging
my backpack off the floor as he ran.

It only took me a moment for my fear to be replaced by outrage.
Oh Gods, my passport, traveler's checks and everything was in
that backpack!

"Hey!" I yelled. "He stole my bag!"

I started forward to run after him, the fact that he had a gun
forgotten in my addled brain until I saw the three shot men lying
on the ground. A crowd that had gathered around them and a
couple of people were trying to give medical aid. Just the sight of
all the blood was enough to put a stop to my adrenaline rush.
Blood doesn't make me squeamish, but the sudden realization
that MY blood could have been spilled too made my knees give
way.

"Oh Fuck!" The world started to gray out as breathing became a
chore. I felt strong hands sit me down and force my head down
between my knees and a soothing voice told me to take deep
steady breaths. Easy for you to say, you're not the one who's
experiencing her first full blown panic attack! As soon as I had my
diaphragm back under control I sat back up and someone pushed
a steaming hot cup of coffee into my hands. I took a sip.
"Uggghhhh" It had sugar in it.

"Drink it." I was ordered. "The sugar will help stop shock."

I couldn't remember if that was true or not, but right now I was
functioning on autopilot and just did as I was told. I realized that I
was shaking so hard I could hardly hold the cup.

By now, security guards were swarming all over the place. A
blanket was put around my shoulders and someone was asking
me if I was hurt. I managed to stammer out a 'no'. The security
guard, and by now I'd recognized that it was a security guard
talking to me, asked me if I'd seen what happened. I nodded
dumbly. The girl who had been working in the coffee shop said
that I'd seen the whole thing. Happened right in front of me.
When asked she said she'd only seen the shooter from the back,
didn't see his face. But she told them loud and clear that I did,
couldn't have missed seeing it. Told them that the guy had run off
with my pack.

The security guard was about to ask another question when more
'suits' arrived, flashing their ID's they identified themselves as
FBI. I'd have been impressed if I wasn't so scared shitless. I
heard the security guys tell the tale to one of the FBI agents.

"Jeezus Christ." Exclaimed another FBI man. "Rawlins and
Ramirez are dead. So's our fucking witness."

The first Agent glared daggers at the second one, probably over
his choice of language. I'm a bright girl, it didn't take me long to
put two and two together. I'd just witnessed a hit on a Federal
witness and two Agents. And the asshole who killed them had my
pack, he knew who I was, had my passport complete with photo.
Knew, or would soon know, that I was New York bound and on
which flight. He had my baggage check labels, he had my whole
life. I've watched enough television to know that if a hit had been
executed (pardon my pun) this precisely in such a public place,
then there had to have been a lot of organization behind it. That
meant that quite conceivably I was now in some sort of danger.

The FBI agents must have realized this too, because all of a
sudden they were looking about warily. FBI number one
conferred briefly with another agent, then he and FBI number two
began to hustle me away to someplace more private.

I found myself seated in one of the airport VIP rooms. FBI
number one introduced himself as Special Agent Harris and the
other one as Agent Ashe. He pretty much confirmed what I had
guessed. This was a professional hit and I, sweet little innocent
me, could identify the perp. And, unfortunately, the perp now had
enough information about me and my plans to be able to find me
if he really wanted to.

"I don't mean to scare you, Miss....?"

"Jacobs. Kim Jacobs."

"I don't mean to scare you, Miss Jacobs, but this whole little
scenario isn't just local. That witness was being secretly brought
to DC from another state. I don't think it's wise for you to travel on
to New York alone until we can catch this guy. And whoever he's
working for."

I nodded glumly. Then cried out, "Oh my God. Donna!"

"Who's Donna?"

"A friend I was meeting in New York. I have to tell her ."

"It's ok. We'll take care of it. Can you give us her full name and
address?"

That much I could do. I'd copied all my contacts into the journal
before leaving home so I wouldn't have to carry my address book.
My journal had been in my hand at the time of the shooting. At
least that meant that he wouldn't have Donna's details. She
should be safe. Something told me I was going to have to wait for
another time to have my White Christmas. I'd seen three men
die, I'd faced a killer, I now faced danger myself because of it. I
started to cry, and the weird thing is what made me cry now was
the stupid fact that I wasn't going to get my White Christmas.

Through my tears I saw a white handkerchief being held in front of
me.

"Here." Agent Ashe pressed the clean hanky into my hand.

"Thank you." I tried to smile.

"So..." Ashe smiled back. "You're not American?"

"No. I'm Australian." Harris was talking on a mobile phone (sorry
I forgot, they call them cellphones over here) in hushed tones. I
eyed him wondering what my fate was to be.

"An Aussie, huh?" Ashe was obviously trying to keep me
distracted. "What part? I went to Australia once on vacation."

"Sydney."

"Yeah. I went there. Saw the Opera House. A beautiful city."

Harris's suddenly raised voice cut into the quiet. "Yes Sir. I
understand. Who's available?" He stopped to listen. "Sheeeit,
you've got to be kidding." He listened, then, "No, Sir. I'm sorry,
Sir." Another pause, "Yes, Sir. We'll wait right here till he gets
here. Thank you, Sir."

Ashe watched Harris as he slammed the cellphone's flip shut. He
asked a question with his eyes.

"AD Skinner's organizing the safe house. An escort will be here in
about an hour."

"Who drew the lucky straw?" Ashe smiled reassuringly at me. At
least he didn't say 'the booby prize'.

"Agent Mulder's on call over the holidays. Seems he's the only
one without any plans that isn't already tied up in an investigation,
or will be needed to track this assassin down." The venom
positively dripped from Harris's words. My heart sank.

"Mulder? This isn't his usual line of work." Ashe sounded to me
like he didn't have a great deal of confidence in the guy. Terrific.

I cleared my throat. "Um, is something wrong?"

"Oh. No. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that Agent Mulder isn't
capable of keeping you safe."

It may have been his total lack of conviction in his voice that
worried me, but worried I was. Harris saw my expression and
glared at Ashe.

"What he means, Ma'am, is that Agent Mulder doesn't usually get
stu... ah, asked to do witness protection. He's in a special
division. It doesn't mean he's not qualified. On the contrary, he's
had loads of field experience."

I felt a little better. But something in the general tone of how
these two spoke about this Agent Mulder told me that they didn't
like him all that much. I had to wonder why.

****************************
National Airport, 10.00am

The jet lag and shock of this morning events had left me feeling
exhausted and I must have dozed off. The FBI Agents had pretty
much left me alone after their initial questioning. I could only
remember some of what happened, which was okay by them. I
guess that was why I was going to get baby-sat by this Agent
Mulder. They told me that he was going to stay with me the whole
time for the next few days at least. I'd asked if this was usual and
they admitted it wasn't, but that Mulder was the only free resource
over the holidays and that he'd been one of their best profilers.
Talking to me might allow him to get a good clear picture of the
shooter. Kinda kill two birds with one stone. Ouch, gotta stop
using that kind of analogy.

I'd read between the lines. I was getting stuck with this loser who
had nothing better to do on the holidays, who was going to be
grilling me for information the whole time. I'd begun to feel that
my dream Christmas was turning into a horrible nightmare. To
top it all off, I began to form a mental picture of this fat, smelly,
slimeball that was going to be sharing the confines of some poky
little safe house with me for Gods only knew how long.

These thoughts filled my dreams as I slept, sprawled out on the
sofa in the VIP lounge. A soft tapping on the door roused me and
I sat up groggily. I saw Harris answer the door and caught sight of
at least two more agents outside guarding the corridor. Harris
stepped aside and this guy... a vision from Heaven is the only
thought that came to mind... stepped into the room. I've never
believed in love at first sight, but I definitely subscribe to lust at
first sight. Oh MY God! I had never seen anyone so damn good
looking. Everything else seemed to fade from the room as my
raging hormones took over. He was tall, about a head taller than
my diminutive 5 foot four, was slim and athletic looking, with short
dark hair and (my biggest downfall) beautiful hazel eyes.

A hand on my arm dragged me back to the here and now as I
realized that a) Agent Ashe was talking to me and b) that I'd been
staring. I felt the familiar rush of heat that told me I was blushing
furiously. This somehow amused the newcomer and he gave me
a slight smile. My heart melted even more. I stuttered (not a
usual occurrence for me) as I answered Ashe.

"I'm sorry? What did you just say?"

"I said, I'd like you to meet Special Agent Fox Mulder."

THIS was Mulder? Fox? What an absolutely gorgeous name. I
rolled it around in my head and it seemed to purr at me erotically.
FFFFoxxxx. And what a fox he is!

Damn, I'd let my mind wander off again. Embarrassed, I shyly
said 'hello' and shook the hand that was extended to me. I almost
physically jumped. The tingle that ran up my arm from his touch
sent shivers down my spine. Gods, only one other person in the
world had had that effect on me before.... and I REALLY didn't
want to go there right now!

I forced myself to concentrate on what was going on in front of
me. Agent Mulder was talking to me.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Jacobs. I understand we're going to be
spending a little time together over the next few days."

Articulate, educated, professional woman that I am - one with a
pretty large capacity for words I might add - and I just nodded
dumbly. Inwardly I groaned. Surely Agent Mulder had by now
summed me up as being a total moron. My earlier mental picture
of the short, fat slimeball popped back into my head and I almost
couldn't resist a giggle as I realized that here stood the total
opposite to what I had expected. I couldn't keep my eyes off him.
And when he met my gaze, I blushed again and tried to look
anywhere else. But I'd seen his eyes, such beautiful hazel eyes.
Soulful, deep, like pools of inviting, sinful nectar.

Ashe was speaking again. Gods, girl, pay attention! I admonished
myself. Here you are, your life in danger, where listening to these
people's instructions could save your life and you're day dreaming
like a love-sick fucking school girl. I managed to catch the drift of
what he said. They'd retrieved my luggage and it was going to be
taken to the safe house. I was to go with Agent Mulder and the
other agents waiting outside and do exactly as they said.

I thanked Ashe and Harris for staying with me as Agent Mulder
lightly placed a hand on my back to guide me out the door.
Mechanically I accepted my earlier discarded jacket and journal
from Agent Harris, then allowed myself to be propelled out the
door. The two agents from outside fell into step with us, flanking
either side and Agent Mulder hovered close - too damn close! - to
me protectively as we headed out the terminal and bundled into a
waiting car. I wound up sandwiched between Mulder and one of
the escorts in the back seat. The other guy hopped in the front
beside the driver and with a squeal of tires we were off.

The rain had turned to sleet, making the roads slick, but our driver
never missed a beat. I did notice that he was ever vigilant at the
traffic around us. I have a lousy sense of direction, but even I
know when I'm traveling in circles, and I'm damned sure we did at
least twice.

My small frame was nestled tightly between the two agents
making it virtually impossible to catch any of the sights of the city,
which was a shame. Maybe when all this was over I'd at least get
a chance to take a look around.

The agent on my left kept a close eye out that side of the car, the
agent in the front passenger seat kept an eye out on the other
side. Agent Mulder, for the most part, watched me. I squirmed
uncomfortably. Having the man pressed so close *and*
scrutinizing me with those gorgeous eyes was almost too much.
When I turned to him and returned his gaze he simply smiled and
turned to look out the rear window.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Someplace safe." Mulder answered in his honey toned voice.

No, Einstein? I'd have never thought we'd be going somewhere
safe. I gave him a 'funny, ha ha' look and he chuckled.

"There's a place the FBI keep out in Virginia. It's pretty secluded,
kinda hard to find unless you know where to look. I think you'll
like it out there."

What I really would have liked was to be on my way to New York
to meet up with Donna. Looked like Fate had something else
entirely in mind. Oh well, at least there was going to be nice
scenery, and I don't just mean the countryside if you get my drift.

Another thought just hit me. Agent Mulder so far had been a man
of few words. I hoped that he wasn't one of the strong silent types
that would just leave me brooding on my own. To have virtually
no-one to talk to was going to drive me nuts, I'd already decided
that American TV was 60 odd channels of nothing. Worse even
than Australian TV, at least we have only 6 channels of nothing -
unless you subscribe to pay TV, then you can get an extra 20 or
so channels of nothing. Guess you can tell I'm not exactly a TV
watcher. I tend to spend much more time chatting away on the
'net and answering my 50 or so e-mails each day from the 'lists' I
belong to. Far more educational pursuit if you ask me, which
you're probably not. I digress.

Nearly an hour of Virginia countryside and we pull down a
graveled road, turn in behind a stand of trees and there in front of
me is the most beautiful house I have ever seen. Three stories,
including dormer style attic, and a wrap around porch. And Agent
Mulder was right, the scenery was very pretty even in the sleeting
rain.

I was again hustled quickly, into the house this time. Agent
Mulder's electric touch sending shivers through me.

"Are you cold?" He asked.

"Oh. No, not really." How do you tell someone that they have
that effect on you?

Fortunately he seemed to lose interest in me for the time being,
busying himself with the other agents that had arrived before us. I
discovered my luggage had already arrived when I was shown to
an upstairs bedroom. It was sumptuous, with a great view over
the sweeping fields beyond the house yard. Horses grazed in the
distance. I was still standing at the window when someone
cleared their throat behind me.

"Excuse me, Miss Jacobs?" Agent Mulder's manners certainly
couldn't be faulted.

"Please, why don't you just call me Kim?"

"Okay. Kim. I'm gonna take the room across the hall. Just so
you'll know where I am, you know, in case anything goes bump in
the night."

Chance would be a fine thing, my smutty little mind provided. I
watched as Mulder dropped his overnight bag through the
doorway opposite mine. (He hasn't said I can call *him* by his
first name, but I like it and think it suits him. He IS a Fox. So I'm
going to call him that in my mind if nothing else. He told me to
call him 'Mulder'.)

He was kind of leaning into the room and bent down to drop the
bag. I couldn't keep my eyes off his cute butt as it peeked out
from under his suit jacket. Oh, man. I've got it bad. And I'm
going to spend the next few days cooped up with this guy. This
can't be a good thing. Even IF he had any reciprocal feelings,
which he'd shown no real sign of so far, nothing could come of it.
He was here to do a job. Nothing more, nothing less.

I thought perhaps I should say something, ask for another agent.
A nice fat, slimeball. But I couldn't do it. It would sound
ridiculous. 'I'm sorry but I can't have Agent Mulder look after me
'cause I've got the serious hots for him.' He'd think I was pathetic,
he'd laugh at me. And then I'd die of embarrassment. No, this
was my problem, my secret. I could be mature about this. After
all, I *am* 39. Besides, a good looking guy like that's gotta be
married right? Oh Gods, or worse! He's probably gay! What a
waste if he is.

Safehouse, Virginia
12.15pm

One of the other agents called from downstairs and I followed
Agent Mulder down to the spacious kitchen. Someone had
brought sandwiches and coffee. I was famished, so I gratefully
accepted the proffered egg salad sandwich. The Styrofoam
coffee cups were passed around and sugar and creamer packets
shaken out of a paper bag. Mulder offered me some of the
sachets, but I shook my head.

"No thanks. I like my coffee strong and naked, just like my men."

Agent Mulder almost choked on his own coffee. "What was that
you just said?" he spluttered.

Oh Gods! Did I just say that out loud? Fuck! It was a terrible
habit, one that all my girlfriends and I laugh at back home, but
horribly inappropriate in front of half a dozen (male) FBI agents. I
prayed no-one had noticed what I said. Murphy, why do you
always pick on me?

"It's just a stupid saying." I blushed furiously.

The other agents were all laughing as well. At Mulder not at me, I
soon realized.

"No, wait." He protested. "I've never heard that before."

"Don't you know Aussies are full of little gems like those, Mulder?"
Another agent asked.

"No, I don't. I've never met an Australian before. Plenty of Brits,
but no 'Aussies'."

"Well, actually, I *am* English. But I've lived in Australia a long
time. You tend to pick up the slang very easily until it just
becomes second nature, but that particular saying is a bad habit
of my own entirely," I tried to explain.

I was saved, yet again, by the proverbial bell. In the form of a
walkie talkie handset crackling to life. The agent nearest to it
picked it up and spoke back to the static on the other end.

"Okay, thanks." He put the handset down and looked at the
others. "Heads up. Skinner's just pulling in."

It was amazing how quickly the agents pulled their
professionalism back on like an overcoat. The relaxed jocularity
of a few moments ago vanished like Scotch mist. I wasn't sure,
but Fox looked to me to be as nervous as his namesake was
when caught in the henhouse. Who the hell *was* this Skinner
bloke? Must be some big shot to make all these grown men
cringe. I was about to find out.

The front door was opened by the agent on guard duty outside on
the porch and in strode this tall, foreboding man. He was
impressive, let me tell you. Had me quaking in my boots. I'm just
glad he's on 'our' side. If I hadn't been so blown over by Mulder, I
might have shown more than a little interest in this guy. He was
tall, I already said that, bald except for a fringe of hair around the
sides and back. He wore wire rimmed glasses that only added to
the stern look of his handsome face. His shoulders were broad
and he was well muscled under the well-cut suit, he obviously
worked out, and carried himself with an air of authority.

"Agent Mulder." Even his voice was stern. He took the others
agents in with a sweeping look and they all responded with "Sir"
before skeedaddling outside as quick as they could.

"Sir." Mulder answered him with a confident nod. Whatever it
was that made him nervous, it was not this man.

"Everything all right here, Mulder?"

"Yes, Sir. Everything's fine."

Was that a smirk on Mulder's face? And an answering twinkle in
the eye of Skinner? These two had history, that much was
obvious. Were they.....? Could they be......? No! Jesus.
Woman! Get your mind out of the gutter, you've been reading
waaaay too much slash lately. But it would be just my luck,
wouldn't it. Come across the most drop dead gorgeous guy in the
world and he's involved with another guy, who just also happens
to be not so hard on the senses either.

Caught! Again! My mind was wandering and now Mulder was
introducing me to Mr. Skinner and I almost missed hearing exactly
who he was.

"Kim Jacobs, I'd like you to meet Assistant Director Walter
Skinner."

"Hello, Sir." Gods, now they had me doing it!

He held out a hand for me to shake and smiled reassuringly at
me. "Miss Jacobs."

His hand was warm and soft and strong, but alas, no sizzle.

"I hope everything here is satisfactory."

"Yes, thank you. It's *very* nice. Not at all what I expected. I
thought you'd bung me in some dingy hotel room like you see on
TV. I'm sorry to put you to so much trouble."

I heard a snort behind me. Was that Mulder? Judging by the
death glare sent by Skinner, I'd say yes. In a sideways glance at
Mulder, I caught sight of him trying to hide a grin.

"It's no trouble at all," Skinner continued without missing a beat.
"You're a very valuable witness. You saw the shooter at the
airport. We think he's responsible for more than one Federal
witness being executed and we want him pretty badly. I don't
want to push or upset you, but if there's anything you can tell us
about him that will help us catch him, we'd be most grateful.
Agent Mulder is going to stay with you and try to work on a profile
using what you tell him and other information we've been
gathering."

It was Skinner's turn to look a little uncomfortable. "Look, it's not
usually standard procedure to have a female witness guarded by
an all male escort, but I'm afraid we don't have any female agents
available right now to chaperone. Agent Mulder's partner would
normally be here too, but she left on vacation yesterday. I could
bring in a female police officer if it will make you feel more
comfortable, but I'm loathe to involve any outside agencies. Our
security was breached this morning, and we don't know who was
responsible."

"No, no, that's not necessary. I'm all right with all these guys to
look after me. I work with an almost all male staff, shared rooms
with them when we went skiing. Being around men only doesn't
faze me in the least." Besides, have competition come in and vie
for the attention of all these men? Not on your nellie.

"Well, I'm sure Agent Mulder will behave like a real gentleman.
I'm afraid I have to take away some of the other agents, though. I
need them for other tasks. There will be two or three outside at all
times, patrolling the grounds and they'll check in with Agent
Mulder regularly to see that everything is all right in here."

Just Fox and me in here? By ourselves? OMIGOD! Maybe
Murphy's Law had decided to be kind to me after all.

"Is there anything else you need?"

There was only one other thing that I just simply could NOT live
without for more than a day or two at a time.

"Um, well. Actually," Come on girl, spit it out. I was loathe to
ask, but he *did* offer. My voice was soft as I asked, "I'm kind of
a 'net junkie. I really need my regular fix. I don't suppose there's
any chance of access to a computer and modem? And if I don't
check in with my family and e-mail friends they'll start to worry."

Now, I know I have a small voice, especially when asking for
outrageous favors, so I guess the reaction I got was my own fault.
Skinner obviously didn't hear the "'net" part of "junkie", and I think
his brain entirely missed the last part of what I said. His look was
stunned. His jaw dropped, his eyes bugged and it took me a
minute to realize that he had entirely misunderstood me! I saw it
suddenly click into place in his head and he audibly sighed with
relief when it finally dawned on him what I'd asked for.

"I'm sorry." He apologized, blushing slightly. "I thought you
said..... I didn't understand your accent."

I stood there staring blankly at him. What had he thought I said?
I glanced at Mulder and he was fighting a losing battle with a grin.
I felt embarrassed and Skinner looked set to blow a gasket at him.

"Certainly." Skinner's voice drew my attention away from Mulder.
"I'll make sure one is sent out here with the next shift."

"I don't want to put you to any trouble."

"It's no trouble. The least we can do considering we've ruined
your vacation. The pantry's been well stocked, help yourself to
anything." He turned to Mulder. "I'll touch base with you later,
Mulder." And then he was out door and seemed relieved to
escape.

As soon as the door closed, the dam burst and Mulder roared with
laughter. "God, that was priceless!" he gasped before dissolving
into fits of giggles - yes, *giggles* - again.

"What was so funny?" I demanded. I'd missed the joke entirely.

"He thought...." More giggles. "He thought you were going to tell
him you wanted .... drugs!"

"What? Oh God, No! He didn't!" I gasped. "He DID? You're
kidding!" Mulder shook his head. Now I saw the funny side.

"And you know the funniest thing?"

I shook my head again.

"He probably would have damned well got them for you!"

Soon I was laughing so hard I was sure I was going to wet myself.
I wound up bent double, holding my stomach and I stumbled
into... Agent Mulder. He grabbed me around the waist with one
arm to stop me from falling over and I kind of wound up staring at
his crotch. The sheer electricity that surged through me every
time he touched me was almost too much.

My breath caught in my throat and I stood up abruptly, almost
keeling over in my rush. His two strong hands caught me by my
elbows to steady me and I found myself looking at his Adam's
apple. It bobbed up and down as he swallowed and I felt my
knees go weak. My eyes tracked up until they met his. We stood
there for a moment in silence, neither one of us moving or daring
to breathe. For a moment I was *sure* he was about to kiss me. I
surely wanted him to. Or perhaps it was just wishful thinking and
my over-productive imagination, because he quickly released me
and stepped away, clearly flustered.

"I'm sorry." He apologized. "I shouldn't have grabbed you like
that. It was highly unprofessional."

Maybe it wasn't just wishful thinking after all. Was it possible that
he *was* attracted to me too? In the words of that great Quantum
Leaper, 'Oh Boy!'

I mumbled something about the kitchen and fled from the room.
As I rattled around cleaning up the debris of our lunch and hunted
through the pantry and freezer to determine if there was anything
that *I* considered edible food in the place, I heard Agent Mulder
talking to the agents that had come back in from outside and were
now due to leave. A couple of them poked their heads through
the doorway and said goodbye to me too. I told them they were
sweet and thanked them all for their concern.

The house was suddenly so silent, and I knew I couldn't hide out
in the kitchen for the rest of the day. I ventured back out into the
living room where I found Mulder busy writing, having unpacked
stuff from a briefcase onto the dining table. It was a pity that he
didn't have a computer. My fingers itched to get near a keyboard.
It was going on 24 hours since Cathy and I had logged on at her
place and checked out the e-mail on the List. By now there had to
be at least 50 new posts. And I couldn't wait to tell the girls about
my adventure, and especially about Mulder.

I paused at the table as Mulder's gaze lifted from the legal pad he
was making notes on. He had taken off his suit jacket and rolled
his shirt sleeves up, his tie was loosened and the pencil he was
using was drifting towards his mouth. The eraser rested gently
against his full pouty lower lip. The wire rimmed reading glasses
he wore completed the picture and the sight was enough to set my
heart all a-flutter again. Gods, he was so sexy, yet so totally
unaware of his sex appeal.

He noticed me staring at him. "Oh, hi. I figured I'd better get
started or Skinner will call later and chew my ass. Do you think
you're up to talking about what happened this morning?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Do you mind if I go take a quick shower and
change first? I won't be long." Maybe I should make that a cold
shower!

"Go ahead. I want to finish this off first anyway."

He gave me that half smile again and I disappeared up the stairs
to my room entertaining thoughts of begging Skinner to let *me*
be the one to chew Mulder's ass.

Safehouse, Virginia
3.45pm

Mulder had started the log fire going so that when I came down
from my shower, the room was nice and cozy. We'd spent close
to two hours going over in detail what had happened at the airport.
I'd already provided as clear a description as I could while still in
the VIP room this morning. A composite artist arrived and took
everything down and came up with what I thought was a good
likeness of the shooter.

Now Mulder was doing his profiling thing and milking information
out of me that I didn't even realize I knew. Minute details
suddenly shone glaringly out just because he asked the right
questions. I was beginning to see why even the agents that didn't
like him had a grudging respect for his work.

Now I was curled comfortably in a big armchair by the fire and he
was stretched out on the sofa and conversation drifted off the
topic of today's events.

Curiosity about this guy was burning me up and I had to find out a
bit about him. "So, do you do this type of work all the time?"

"Profiling? No. Not anymore."

"What do you do then?"

He laughed. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

"I head a division called The X Files. My partner and I investigate
unsolved cases, the paranormal, stuff like that."

"No kidding?"

"No, it's true."

"Wow, that is so cool. I thought stuff like that was only on
television. Do you hunt ghosts and weird shit like that?"

He smiled. "Not officially, but I have come across some pretty
weird and unexplainable things in my time," he laughed. "Things
that even my partner has had a hard time putting a scientific
explanation to."

"You know, I've had some strange encounters myself. There's a
kind of psychic link between some of my family, but I've never
had the nerve to pursue it."

For a minute there was no sound other than the crackle and hiss
of the wood burning in the fireplace.

"Mulder, do you believe there's life in outer space?"

He stared at me hard for a long moment. "Do you?"

"Yes. I mean, there has to be. With all the billions of stars in our
Galaxy alone, we surely can't be the only intelligent life. Can we?
I believe that the two schools of thought - the Biblical references
and the Darwinian theory are both correct."

"How do you figure that?"

"The Bible says, and don't quote me 'cause I'm not religious in the
least, that Adam and Eve were put on the earth to populate it and
that's where life stemmed from, whereas Darwin says we evolved
from apes. We can trace the Australian Aboriginals back 40,000
years or so. What if the biblical version is an historical account,
distorted over the centuries by man's lack of understanding of the
original words. It's been bastardized and twisted to suit the needs
of society's religious leaders at the time.

"What if 'Adam and Eve' were many 'Adam's and Eve's' - colonies
of beings put here to evolve independently, with visitations from
time to time by the 'Elders'. The so-called Elders were described
as God or Gods and things went from there. Even the ancient
Greek legends of the Sky Gods fits my theory to a point.

"It explains how technology has had serious jumps from time to
time - the knowledge was seeded into society. There must have
been some sort of outside intervention that allowed Moses to part
the Red Sea, for Jesus to rise from the dead.

"I don't know, I can't explain it and I will never know if it's true
unless I can see the evidence with my own eyes. But I have to
believe in the possibility. Otherwise our lives here on this
godforsaken rock are almost meaningless."

Mulder was watching me throughout my recitation, politely
nodding his head.

"I'm sorry, I'm boring you carrying on like that. You probably think
I'm a crackpot."

"No. I find it intriguing. My partner is a scientist. A pathologist
actually. Her view is that if it doesn't fit the realm of known
science, it can't exist." He sounded a little bitter. "It's refreshing
to hear another view point. You seem to believe in both science
and extreme possibilities."

"I'm a real mixture. Part of me wants hard proof of anything
before I accept it, and the romantic in me wants to dream the
impossible dream. I guess that's why I like science fiction so
much. It stretches my imagination, stimulates me to think. You
know, my favorite show when I was growing up was Star Trek."

"No kidding? Mine too."

"Oh yes, they had some great shows on back in the late sixties
and early seventies."

We went on to compare what had been out favorites, and laughed
at how the special effects from then now pale in comparison to
today's computer simulations. I found out that Mulder was two
years younger than me and we actually had a lot in common.
Actually, I was glad that we'd turned the topic of conversation
away from the "deep and meaningful" direction it had been
heading in.

The fire had begun to die down a little, so Mulder stood, stretched,
and went over to add another log. I glanced at my watch and
realized it was nearly 7 o'clock.

"Are you getting hungry?" I asked him.

"A little."

"I'm going to go rustle up something to eat. Do you think the guys
outside want something?"

"No, they're fine. There's a command post set up in the stables.
They don't need to come inside for anything."

That would explain why we'd been so alone all afternoon. Mulder
followed me into the kitchen.

"What do you like? I saw some lasagna in the freezer, and there's
greens in the fridge so I can make a salad."

"Sounds ok to me. Whatever you want is fine."

"Just as long as you don't have to cook it yourself, huh? Typical
male." It still amazed me how comfortable I felt bantering with
this man, who I'd known less than a day.

"You make me sound like I don't know my way around a kitchen.
I'll have you know that I'm a good cook. No, a *great* cook!"

"That's good. You can cook the next meal!" I threw him a
triumphant grin as I threw the lasagna into the microwave and
pressed the buttons. As I turned around, I saw that he'd already
pulled the salad greens out and was busy at the sink. "And salad
doesn't count as cooking."

He grinned at me. "Neither does microwaving a frozen lasagna."

"I'm on holiday. I don't *have* to cook."

I watched as he deftly washed the lettuce leaves and tomatoes,
then arranged them on the plates I'd hunted out from the
cupboard. It seemed to me that the kitchen was pretty well
stocked up for a safe house, and that the safe house was all
rather too sumptuous to have been hastily provided. My curiosity
eventually got the better of me and I had to ask.

"So tell me, Fox..... what?" I'd caught the frown on his face.

"Ahhh, I, um, don't like to be called 'Fox'."

"Why ever not? It's a beautiful name."

"Almost everyone, even my partner, calls me 'Mulder'."

"Well, I'm not 'almost everyone', and I like your name. It's nothing
to be ashamed of. But if you're really uncomfortable, I suppose I
can call you 'Mulder'. Fox is nicer, though, less formal. But I
guess you don't really want to be less formal. I am, after all, just a
job. Aren't I?"

"No. I don't look at being here as 'just a job'. I care that people
have been killed, I want to catch this guy so he doesn't hurt you."
He sighed. Gave up the thread of the conversation. "What were
you going to ask me?"

The compassion in his eyes was real. And this conversation was
turning heavy again.

"Oh. Well, I was going to ask how come all this luxury for little old
me?"

He grinned again. The most gorgeous smile I've ever had the
pleasure to see. Kind of shy, sexy....

"Well, to be totally honest, this *isn't* all for you. The guy that was
killed at the airport was an important Federal Witness. All this
was set up for him. He'd made certain requests regarding his
comfort, and since he wasn't going to wind up using it after all and
you needed to be taken somewhere safe...."

"And all this was already set up. I inherited it, right?" I finished for
him.

"In a nutshell."

"Lucky me." The microwave pinged, signally dinner was ready. I
removed the steaming food and set about serving it. "But one
thing worries me. If FBI security was breached and that guy was
killed at the airport, how do you know the shooter won't know
about this place?"

"We're confident he doesn't have that information. If he did he
would have waited and hit here, where it's less public and there
would have been no witnesses to ID him. He took a huge risk at
the airport."

We ate our dinner at the dining table in the living room where it
was much warmer near the fire. I'd found a bottle of wine and
offered some to Mulder, who declined since he was technically 'on
duty'. It wasn't worth opening for one person, so we settled on
grape juice instead.

We'd finished eating and were just sitting talking when there was a
knock on the door. Mulder was instantly into FBI Agent mode.
His hand fell to his gun, which I'd forgotten he was wearing, and
he told me to stay where I was. My heart beat a little faster as I
suddenly remembered that I was here for protection and that there
was a very real possibility of danger. I heard Mulder ask who was
at the door before opening it and relaxing somewhat. He returned
carrying a soft leather case.

"One lap-top with modem, as requested," he announced as he put
it down beside the table. He sat back down and watched as I
squirmed with anticipation. "Why is a computer so important?"
he asked.

"I told you earlier, I'm a 'Net junkie. What can I say?"

"So what exactly do you do on the Internet?"

I flushed a little. "Mostly I 'chat' with my friends on our e-mail list.
There are usually around 40 or so posts a day. I miss it when I
can't 'talk' to them."

Another half laugh, but I'm sure he wasn't laughing *at* me.

"What do you talk about? How did you get into this e-mail list?"

"We talk about all sorts of things, really. Our common interests,
you know."

"No, I don't know. What common interests?"

"You'll laugh at me if I tell you."

"I promise I won't."

"It'll sound silly to you."

His soulful look, almost a puppy-dog look, opened me up like a
fish under a knife. Gods, I can be so weak-willed at times. Give
me a pretty face, and I'm anybody's.

"We all like this actor, see," I was blushing in earnest now, "and
we like to talk about him and his show." I could see the
amusement in his eyes as he tried not to laugh out loud. "See,
now you *are* laughing at me."

"No, I'm not. Honest. But doesn't it seem a little weird to talk
about someone you don't even know?"

"Not really. And I *have* actually met him, well, said hello at any
rate. We like to critique his show and discuss what we like about
him. Gods, is that the time?" Time to change the subject. I was
*not* going to tell Fox Mulder about the lustful conversation that I
and my list-sibs had on a regular basis!

"Yeah, it's getting late. I guess you must be tired."

I started to protest that I wasn't, but my yawn told the true story. I
was kind of tired, it had been a long and eventful day, even
though it was only 10 o'clock. Mulder said that he was going to
check in with the guys outside by radio and then would be turning
in himself. I bade him goodnight, he reminded me not to venture
downstairs during the night as the house alarm would be set, then
I went upstairs taking the prized lap-top with me. It came
complete with a prepaid credit card modem that made the source
untraceable. Very nice.

Once I was in my room I decided that I wasn't ready to go to sleep
yet. I wanted to check on my e-mail, send out the replies and tell
Cathy, Peggy and Donna all about the very foxy Fox Mulder. I'd
been on line for nearly an hour when I heard the door to Mulder's
room open and close. In my mind's eye I could just picture
Mulder stripping off down to his boxers. Yes, I imagined he was
the type to wear boxers. Oh Gods, it was going to be hard to
sleep while my imagination kept supplying me with images of Fox
seducing me, or me seducing him.

I shut off the computer after saying my 'goodnights' to my list-sibs
who I'd been chatting to. There was a real mixture of envy and
concern for my well-being expressed by them and they all wished
me luck in 'Fox Hunting'. I went over and peeked out through the
heavy drapes at the darkness outside. It was still raining, tending
toward sleet. I sighed. What a holiday this has turned out to be
so far, and now it looked as if I wouldn't get my white Christmas
either. I turned off the light and was about to get into bed, but I
was drawn to the bedroom door like a magnet. I put my ear to it
and listened. I could hear the faint creaking of floorboards across
the hall. It looked like my bodyguard wasn't one for sleeping
much either, I could hear him pacing restlessly. Reluctantly I tore
myself away from the door and climbed in under the thick down
comforter. The softness of the pillows and the warmth of the bed
soon lulled me to sleep.

*********
Safe House
3.55am

Something woke me. At first I thought that it was the little click
that my travel alarm clock makes just before ringing, but I
remembered that I hadn't set it. So I lay there straining to hear
what had woken me. The night was eerily quiet and I had just
about decided that I must have dreamed hearing a noise when I
heard footsteps out in the hallway.

My heart rate went up as fear raced through me. I scanned the
darkness for anything that I could use for a weapon if I needed to.
Gods, who was I kidding? No weapon that I was capable of using
was going to stop a trained assassin if he was coming to get me, I
switched from looking for a weapon to looking for a possible
hiding place. Rational thought then told me that the alarm hadn't
gone off and I knew it was connected to all the external doors and
windows as well, so the chances that someone had broken in had
to be slim. Right?

I climbed out of bed and pulled on my robe and slippers. Despite
the central heating it was still chilly. I padded silently to the door
and listened. I could hear nothing so I cracked the door open an
inch or two. It was silent. Then I noticed the light under Mulder's
door. He was awake, either that or he'd gone to sleep with the
light on. I saw a shadow flicker across the doorway, he was
definitely awake then.

I knew it was probably a huge mistake, but I tiptoed across the hall
and listened at his door. I was sure he would be able to hear my
heart hammering, even through the thick wood separating us.
This is dumb, I admonished myself. I was just turning to return to
my own room when the door flew open. For a moment I was
dumbstruck and just stood there blinking in the light that spilled
from the room into my eyes. It seemed that neither of us knew
what to say.

Finally I found my voice, "I, um, couldn't sleep. I saw your light on
and...."

"Is everything all right?" he asked gently. I noticed that he had his
gun in his hand and was hastily putting it back into its holster.

My eyes tried to stay locked on his, but I couldn't stop them
straying downward to take in the sight of his naked chest, then
lower to the tight jeans that barely concealed his manly bulge. I
blushed and dropped my gaze all the way to the floor.

"Oh. Um, yes," I stammered. "Everything's fine. Well, actually...
I heard a noise, and.... I thought....."

"I'm sorry if I scared you," he apologized. "I didn't realize that you
could hear me in here. I'm not much on sleeping when I'm
working. Besides, the bed's too soft." He smiled to soften the
moment.

I smiled back, feeling foolish admitting that I had freaked out. "I
wasn't really scared," I lied. "I guess I haven't really been thinking
much about the fact that I could really be in danger. All this is
new to me." I finally plucked up the courage to lift my gaze back
up to meet his. I expected to see amusement in his eyes and was
quite surprised at the naked compassion written there instead.

"You gonna be ok?" his voice was soft, husky.

The air literally dripped with the electricity between us. I nodded.
His hand came up to touch me on the arm and he felt me tremble.

What happened next was entirely unplanned by either of us.

He rubbed my arm as I gazed dreamily up into his eyes, the next
thing I knew I was enveloped in his strong arms as he pulled me
close and hugged me. It just felt so right. I relaxed into the
embrace and wrapped my own arms around his slim waist. I
could hear his heart pounding in his chest and I'm sure I felt a
gentle pulse through his jeans against my belly. His hands
traveled up my back, softly stroking, and I shivered again. I was
getting seriously turned on by his closeness. I prayed that I wasn't
dreaming this, and that it wouldn't stop here.

I traced my fingers up his bare skin, feeling the strong muscles in
his back, tracing his shoulder blades under my finger nails. I felt a
shudder from him. I wanted him so badly. His breath was warm
against my hair. I turned my face into his chest and planted a soft
kiss there. When he didn't object I tracked across to his right
nipple. I felt it respond as I ever so gently ran my tongue over it.
A small moan escaped his lips.

His hand cupped my chin and lifted my face to look into his. "This
isn't right," he whispered.

"Do you want me to stop?" I asked.

"No. But we shouldn't...."

"Why? I want this. You want this. No one else has to know."

His eyes were bright, his gaze hot and intense. I feared that
common sense and professionalism would overtake the animal
passion building in him. I snaked a hand up behind his neck and
applied gentle pressure, pulling his lips closer to mine. The kiss
was tentative at first. Chaste. I have to admit here, that I was
taking the lead. I teased his lips with my tongue, darting it
between his lips, tracing the contours. He allowed it for a
moment, then thrust his own tongue into my mouth. We kissed
hard and passionately. Our tongues danced and parried. We
nipped at each others lips, traced every contour of our respective
mouths. Finally when neither of us could breathe, we broke apart.
I attacked his neck, nipping and licking, being careful not to leave
marks that would get him into trouble.

I made my way back to his chest, still nipping and licking, teasing
his nipples until they were erect and hard. My hands constantly
moved over his back, caressing and squeezing. The temptation
of feeling his perfect ass was too much and I slid my hands down
and massaged his butt. His fingers wove into my hair, pulling and
flexing. His erection was pressing into my stomach almost
painfully. And I wanted it.

We were still standing in the hallway. I could think of somewhere
far more comfortable. I stepped backwards, tugging him gently
with me, leading him towards my room and, more specifically, my
bed. As the backs of my knees connected with the edge, we
stopped. His eyes met mine once more, seeking permission
before tugging on the tie-belt around my waist. Gentle hands slid
the robe off my shoulders and it puddled at my feet. His fingers
traced down my neck and caressed my breast, thumb traveling
across the nipple, but still on the outside of my night gown. It was
a sensual gesture and I felt an ache build in the very center of my
being.

I reached to tug the nightgown up and off, but he stopped me. He
wanted the pleasure of undressing me. Words were unnecessary.
I lifted my arms as he lifted the sheer fabric off my body, then slid
his hands down my sides and tugged my panties down, I deftly
stepped out of them as they reached the floor. I stood there as
his eyes took in my nakedness.

His head dipped and he suckled first on one breast, then the
other. My head flew back in sheer pleasure. In one swift
movement he scooped me up into his arms and laid me on the
bed. I kept my arms circled around his neck until he was forced to
climb onto the bed with me. His hot breath teased my neck again.
I pulled on his hair until he brought his lips up to mine and we lost
ourselves in each other again.

He slid down the bed mimicking my actions of licking and nipping
until he reach my stomach. He didn't stop there. His fingers
traced patterns on the inside of my thighs and I cried out when he
touched my inner place. I was already wet and his finger slipped
easily inside. He expertly found my center and proceeded to
inflict the most exquisite torture I have ever had the pleasure of
receiving. I felt myself coming close to the edge of orgasm. I
was totally incapable of coherent words, low moans and 'oh god's
were all that I could manage. Suddenly the fingers disappeared
and I felt a deep disappointment, only to be replaced by even
more profound ecstasy as his tongue took over. He sucked and
nipped at me until I could stand it no longer. My body shuddered
and shook and I screamed out.

His tongue traveled back up my stomach, treating each nipple to
equal attention before kissing me deeply again and I could taste
myself on him. It was time to return the favor. I pushed at him
until he rolled onto his back. I straddled his legs and undid the
button fly of his jeans. He lifted his hips to let me pull the denim
down. I marveled at the bulge in his (yes I was right!) boxers. I
teased the inside of *his* thighs as I made my way back up to the
waistband of the shorts, brushing my hand lightly against him. His
hips bucked toward my hand reflexively.

I took my time pulling the boxers off, making sure I got in my own
share of teasing. The sight of his engorged penis was
breathtaking. It pulsed gently in anticipation. I looked up and he
was watching me. I smiled as I licked the very tip of his hard cock
and his eyes closed in pleasure. My tongue traced the ridges and
contours of his head before I gently took him into my mouth. I
heard his gasp and felt the instant response that he fought to
control. He wanted this to last and so did I.

"Go gently," he whispered hoarsely. "It's been a while and I might
not be able to hold off."

I'd bear that in mind. I sucked gently as I pulled him deeper and
deeper into my eager mouth. I started a slow rhythm up and down
his shaft. More low moans were heard, and I wasn't sure if they
were his or mine. His hips fell into easy step with my rhythm. I
felt the sudden thickening of his penis and pulled back. I wasn't
going to let him come yet. I wanted him inside me. He seemed
to sense my motives and pulled me up, rolling us both over with
him winding up on top, all in one fluid movement.

I opened my legs to him and he rested his length against my dark
curls. He waited a moment until he was sure he was back from
the edge before continuing on.

I looked into his fever-bright eyes, the naked lust shining brightly.

I reached down to stroke him, to revive his slightly flagging
member. Under my deft fingers he quickly sprang back to full
strength. His own fingers rubbed my clit to work up more
moisture. When he was satisfied I was ready, he pressed his tip
at my entrance. I arched up to invite him in and gasped as he
entered. He was big and hot. And it felt, oh so good. He pushed
a little way in and withdrew, repeating this several times. I wanted
him deep inside me and grew impatient. I grabbed his butt and
squeezed, pulling him into me. He grinned and plunged in to the
hilt. I couldn't stop the ragged cry that escaped me and when I
looked into his face, he had the biggest shit eating grin that I'd
ever seen.

"Bastard," I whispered teasingly.

"Oh, really?"

Then he went on to show me just how much of a bastard he could
be. He started a very slow, almost agonizing in and out. Every
time I tried to pull him in further, he'd retreat. I knew I'd
eventually win though. It didn't take long until his animal need
was aroused beyond denial and he began to thrust harder and
faster. I matched thrust for thrust until we were both in a frenzy,
grunting and screaming, my ankles locked firmly around his legs.
His hands slipped in under the small of my back and arched me
up as he thrust in so deep I thought he'd blow my mind. I went
over the edge and he followed. I felt his hot seed pump into me
as I orgasmed and tightened, quivering, around him. He growled
low and long, shuddering with the release.

Suddenly he collapsed on top of me, totally spent. As he started
to roll away I held him tight. I didn't want him to withdraw just yet,
even though he had begun to go soft. I was enjoying the
closeness and I could feel the gentle throbbing of my own
orgasm's after effects.

"That was..... fantastic," I whispered into his neck, gasping to get
my breath back. "Thank you."

He lifted his head and stared into my eyes. "I kinda enjoyed it,
too," he smiled down at me.

He blinked slowly, sleepily. Sex tends to do that to guys, I've
noticed. He again moved to get up and I let him roll off me.

"I should go," he said, but didn't seem inclined to get up.

"Stay with me. Please."

His hand came up and gently stroked my hair and he turned
toward me. He was almost asleep so I reached behind me and
pulled the comforter over the two of us. He snuggled into my
shoulder and soon we were both sound asleep.

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

Safe House, Virginia
December 24

A loud groan escaped my lips as I rolled over and felt the empty
space beside me in the bed. For a moment I thought that I had
just had the most erotic dream, except for the fact that I could still
smell his essence on the sheets. I inhaled deeply and sighed, a
smile dancing on my lips.

With a huge effort I pulled myself out of bed and into the shower,
reluctant to wash the lingering odor of our lovemaking from my
body. Common sense told me that if I didn't it would be a dead
give away to Mulder's colleagues and would land him in some
serious shit, so I stood under the steaming spray and re-ran the
night through my mind.

When I was dressed I made my way downstairs. Heading into the
kitchen I could smell freshly brewed coffee. Just what the doctor
ordered. I stopped dead in my tracks staring at the man sitting at
the kitchen table. It wasn't Mulder, it was one of the guys from
yesterday.

The disappointment on my face must have been plain to see, but
thankfully Agent Collins interpreted it as surprise.

"Didn't mean to startle you," he smiled at me. "Mulder asked if I'd
stay with you..."

My brain blocked out the rest of his sentence, a deep hurt burning
itself into my chest. So, that was that. Obviously. He'd high-
tailed it out of here first chance he could get, huh? Anger welled.
Well that is just fi........

"... and he should be back soon." Collins was still speaking,
oblivious to my inner turmoil.

Back? He was coming back? Thank God. I started to breathe
again. I didn't think I could stand to lose him so soon. Oh, I know
that what we had last night was probably a one shot deal, but for it
to end with him just disappearing without so much as a goodbye
was too much to even think about.

I busied myself with pouring coffee and was just putting the pot
back when the back door swung open to reveal a sweaty, panting
Fox Mulder. I swear to God, I nearly dropped the coffee pot.
Damn, but the man is just so fine - even flushed and disheveled
as he was now. He'd been out running and the sight of him
instantly brought back arousal.

He saw me standing there and smiled, "Morning. Sleep well?"

"Very well, thank you," I tried to suppress a sly grin behind my
coffee mug. "You?"

"Never better," with a quick smile at Collins he added, "Must be
the safe feeling I have with the FBI's finest outside keeping
watch."

Collins grunted. "If you want me to stay while you go and shower,
you'd better get to it. I gotta be home in an hour or my wife will
have my balls for breakfast."

I smiled and Collins caught my look.

"Begging your pardon ma'am." He looked embarrassed but I
smiled at him, forgiving him his crassness.

Mulder laughed, "It's ok. You can go. I just didn't want Kim to
wake up all alone in the house."

Collins left and I offered Mulder coffee. "I'll have some after I
shower. I won't be long."

"Want someone to wash your back?" I grinned at him. His
stricken look was enough to make me contrite. "Sorry, just
kidding."

"I wish you weren't," he whispered to me as he brushed past.
Then he was gone.

I briefly entertained the thought of taking him up on what I
perceived as an offer, but decided it was too risky with all the
other FBI personnel about. Just as well, because Agent Rossi
poked his head in the door just then looking for Mulder.

The rest of the day went quietly enough. Mulder and I worked
some more on my recollections of yesterday, but I didn't really
remember much more. He worked on his profile and talked on
the phone regularly to AD Skinner and others about progress. I
found a book to read for a while, played a game I found on the
computer's hard drive, phoned my family to wish them a Merry
Christmas - on a secure, scrambled line, no less - not telling them
of the unexpected change in my plans and worry them.

Then I wrote up my journal and logged onto the Internet to 'chat'
in the afternoon. I wanted desperately to share last night (not *all*
the details of course) with my List-Sibs, but didn't want to
compromise Mulder in any way, so I settled for letting them know
that everything was going *extremely* well and I'd give them a full
report later. I'd taken it upon myself to periodically put coffee,
water or juice in front of Mulder, as well as lunch, since he didn't
seem inclined to take care of his own needs. He was busy
working away and I didn't want to disturb his concentration, but he
gave me a grateful smile for thinking of him.

I was reading my book, curled up in the same chair as yesterday,
when it started to get dark. I heard a sigh behind me, then the
pop of bones as long limbs stretched out.

"It's gonna be dark soon, want me to start the fire?" he asked.

"Sure. I'll get something on for dinner soon," I answered.

"My turn to cook tonight, remember?"

"I won't hold you to it. Besides, you've been working all day. I
don't mind doing it."

He had come over to stand behind my chair, forcing me to crane
my neck backwards to look up at him. He was dressed in jeans
and a round necked, long sleeved black sweater today and looked
mighty fine. I honestly think the man could be dressed in a burlap
sack and still look like he belonged on the cover of GQ.

"You can help," he said, brushing his hand over my cheek. It sent
a shiver down my spine. Gods, the man is positively dangerous.
I leaned into the light caress, turning my face to kiss his palm.
Then I leapt out of the chair and bounded towards the kitchen
before things got out of hand.

"Come on, I'm getting hungry."

Assistant Director Skinner paid an unexpected call on us just as
dinner was ready and Mulder invited him to stay. He politely
declined, stating that he had Christmas errands still to run. I
caught a sad look as it fleetingly passed over Mulder's face and I
again wondered why he was available to pull this duty over
Christmas, why he didn't have family commitments. No one
should be alone at Christmas. Ok, here *I* am alone, but in
fairness I had chosen to spend it with friends in another country,
even if those plans had now been laid to waste. I did have family
back home that I would have been with if I wasn't here.

Skinner left and we sat down to eat. I decided that I was going to
open that bottle of red wine I'd found and we were both going to
have at least one glass. I handed a filled goblet to Mulder. "You
have to have a Christmas drink with me."

He snorted, "It's not Christmas, yet."

"With the time difference, it is in Australia. Besides, I'm cheating
and going to celebrate *two* Christmases."

"Why on earth would you want to do that? One's bad enough!"
He laughed, but I sensed some bitterness behind his words.

Regardless of his own feelings, he indulged me and we toasted to
Christmas. Dinner was surprisingly good. True to his word,
Mulder *was* a great cook. He'd found all kinds of things in the
pantry and we were eating pasta and a rich tomato based sauce.

As we sipped our wine (my third glass while he'd barely drunk half
of his first) and chatted quietly in the candle and fire light, I
remember thinking that I never wanted that moment to end. It
was perfect. I watched his sensuous lips as he smiled, his hazel
eyes serious as he showed genuine interest in the details of my
life and laughed with me on the soap opera-ish antics of my weird
family.

"So, what about *you*, Agent Mulder. You must have a million
interesting stories to tell." I challenged.

"Some you just wouldn't believe," he laughed. "But I seriously
doubt you want to hear them before bedtime."

"All right, but I love a good mystery." I changed tack since he
obviously didn't want to talk about his work. "What about your
family? I don't understand why you'd prefer to be stuck baby-
sitting me instead of being home with them at Christmas."

His smile faded instantly and I saw genuine pain in his eyes. I
immediately regretted my question. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't pry."

He heaved a shuddering sigh, "No, it's ok. Fair's fair, I asked you
about yours. There's not really much to tell about my family. My
dad passed away a few years ago, and my sister disappeared
when I was twelve. My mom lives in Connecticut, but we don't
celebrate Christmas. She's the only family I have left, unless you
count Scully."

"That's sad, I'm sorry. So, who's Scully? Your dog?"

He choked as he inhaled the sip of wine he'd just taken. He
chuckled through the gasps for breath. "No, Scully's not my dog.
Although she's about as faithful as one. Scully is Dana Scully, my
partner at work."

He said her name lovingly and I had to wonder if their partnership
didn't go a lot deeper than just work. I felt an irrational pang of
jealousy, in just a few days I would be gone (home hopefully and
not somewhere a lot more permanent) but she would still be here,
with him. I envied her.

"She must be pretty special."

"Yeah, she is. Saved my ass more times than I can count. She
challenges me in my beliefs, counters my theories with "science".
We're very close friends."

"Just friends?" I demand, then blush with embarrassment. "Sorry,
I had no right....."

"It's okay," he reached across and captured my small hand in his
much larger one. "There was a time I thought there might be
more.... but now I'm not so sure. And she's not here, you are."
He entwined his fingers with mine and I could feel that electrical
charge building again.

"Where is she?"

"In San Diego, visiting with her brother and family for the
holidays." He seemed anxious to change the subject. "How about
we clear up these dishes, then maybe we can think of something
else to do to while away the evening." He had a mischievous
twinkle in his eye and I wondered if he was thinking of the same
activity that I was.

As I bent over the dishwasher loading in the plates, I felt a hand
on my back. It made its way down until it ran over my ass and I
shivered.

"Cold?" the husky, honeyed voice behind me breathed into my
left ear.

"No, hot actually." I turned and straightened, snaking my arms up
around his neck. Fox bent his head to kiss me and I tilted mine
up to meet him half way. Mutual desire heating both of us. "God,
I can't believe how much I want you," I sighed.

"It's mutual. I'm going to be sorry when this assignment is over."

"Let's not think about that now. How about we go upstairs?"

He grinned. "You're insatiable."

"You ain't seen nuthin' yet." I pulled on his hand as I headed for
the stairs. He pulled me back and kissed me once more.

"You go on up. I have to check in one last time tonight and I'll be
along."

Our lovemaking that night was unhurried. Fox showed me just
how creative he could be as he took me to heights of passion I'd
only ever imagined before. And I don't think he was complaining
about what he was getting in return. For hours we took pleasure
in each other's bodies and when we finally fell back exhausted, I
realized that it was the early hours of Christmas Day.

I rolled to face my lover, "Hey sexy. Merry Christmas."

He turned his face to me and opened sleepy eyes, "Yeah, I guess
it is." He put his arm around me and drew me close, snuggling
me in against his shoulder as he drifted to sleep. I watched him
sleep for quite a while before I fell into a deep sleep myself.

**********

I woke when Fox got up. It was barely dawn. "Where you going?"

"Go back to sleep. I'm going for a run. I'll be back in around an
hour." He leaned down and kissed me.

"If you want more exercise, I'm sure I could accommodate." I was
reluctant to let him slip out of my grasp.

"Don't tempt me. Someone will be downstairs while I'm gone."
Another kiss and he headed for the door.

I sighed and decided to get up, even though it was still early. I
hadn't checked my e-mail since yesterday morning and there was
a fic that I wanted to read that would help pass the time until Fox
got back. But first a shower - and the way I was feeling it should
probably be a cold shower!

As I sat at the desk under the window in my bedroom, I could see
the flat, frozen countryside that lay beyond the white painted
picket fence surrounding the house. My gaze finally rested on the
solitary figure running toward the house across the field. It was
cold outside and I could see the cloudy vapor from Mulder's hard
breathing even at this distance. I sighed wistfully (seemed like I
was doing a lot of that this morning), knowing that this little
interlude would soon be over and that both Fox and I would return
to our normal lives, probably never to see one another again. I
just hoped that he wouldn't forget me too quickly as I was sure I'd
never forget him.

I shook myself from my reverie and headed downstairs to the
kitchen. I had decided that I was going to cook Fox a special
breakfast since it was Christmas Day. I greeted Agent Collins and
wished him a Merry Christmas, making small talk about his family
plans for the holidays. Mulder came in through the back door with
a blast of frigid air that sent shivers up and down my spine. He
grinned even as he pulled his gloves off.

"It's cold out."

"Well jeez, Einstein. How many miles did it take you to work that
out?" I shot at him, returning the smile. "Go on up and shower.
I'll get breakfast on the go." I turned to Collins, "Would you like to
stay as well?"

Collins got up from the table, "Thanks, but no thanks. I'll have
mine waiting for me at home. And a tribe of kids anxiously
waiting for Dad to get home so they can open their gifts."

"Well, Merry Christmas again, and all the best to your family."

"Yeah, see ya, Collins," Mulder added.

After Collins had gone, I turned to Mulder and told him to go on up
for his shower.

"What, no offer of scrubbing my back this morning?"

"Oh, I could scrub more than just your back, but then we'd never
get breakfast. Now, get."

"Bossy all of a sudden, aren't we?" he teased, then ran for the
door as I flicked the dish towel in his direction.

When he'd gone, I set about cooking the bacon, eggs, tomatoes,
mushrooms and toast.

Mulder stretched back in the kitchen chair with a contented sigh.
"I may just have to go for another run to work off that huge
breakfast. It was great, thanks."

"My pleasure. It was kind of a tradition in my family to have a big
breakfast and then a late Christmas lunch. Speaking of which, I
don't think we have anything that qualifies as traditional Christmas
fare for dinner tonight. Although I could do something with the
frozen chicken instead of turkey."

He groaned, "Don't even make me think about more food right
now. I'm so stuffed I might not eat for a week."

I smiled slyly, "I doubt that, you need to eat to keep up your
strength." It was time to change the subject, we'd pretty much
agreed that what we did after lights out was to be kept totally
separate from Mulder's duties during the daytime. "So, what
happens to the investigation today?"

"Well, just because it's Christmas, doesn't mean the FBI shuts
down. The labs are working what little forensic evidence we have,
there's a team out working on following up leads generated by the
database that might fit my profile and the description you've
given. As far as you and I are concerned, though, we just have to
sit tight and wait."

I nodded as I absorbed all of this. "So how long do you think we'll
have to stay here? Or should I say, that *I'll* have to stay here?"

"Just until Skinner thinks it's safe for you to be wandering around
alone again. Maybe only a couple more days. If this guy doesn't
try to make a move pretty soon - one that we are well and truly
ready for - then it's safe to assume that he's gone to ground and
won't be showing up anywhere real soon."

"And what if he's just playing possum?" I ask.

"You won't be left in danger." His eyes suddenly couldn't meet
mine and I smelled a rat.

"Wait a minute! You *want* him to come here, don't you? You've
set a trap for him, haven't you? God Dammit!" I was suddenly so
angry that I was shaking. And I was shouting.

"No, NO! Will you listen a minute," he grabbed my wrist to calm
me down. "Yes, there is a trap, but no, it's not for him to come
here. We've set up another location and have made it look like
you're being kept at the other place. Only Skinner, me and the
few agents assigned here know where you really are. You're quite
safe."

"Unless your leak came from someone here in the first place." I
challenged.

Fox didn't answer, he didn't have to. He scrubbed his eyes with
his fingers then glanced at his watch. "It's after 10, I have a
couple of calls to make." He got up from the table and headed
into the living room. He paused at the doorway, "Try not to worry.
We've done this kind of thing a lot more than you realize. It'll be
okay."

I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but after I'd stacked the dishwasher I
was making my way back upstairs. Fox was pacing the living
room, talking on the phone and I couldn't help but overhear his
half of the conversation.

"...no, at least I'm not on my own, Scully.

Believe me, this assignment is not like hard work, and I'm not
even in the frontlines.

I will, no I won't take any unnecessary risks, I promise. Listen,
I've gotta go. Give my love to your Mom, okay?

Sure. I'll see you when you get back.

I'm sure this will be all over by then. Enjoy your vacation."

Mulder turned and caught me standing in the doorway.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't intending to listen in." I blushed.

"It's okay. I was just talking to Scully."

"She must be really special to you. I mean, I don't call up my co-
workers on Christmas Day."

"Scully and I are good friends. It's kinda hard to explain, we've
been through so much together..."

"Fox, you don't owe me any explanations. You don't owe me
anything. What we have here and now is just that. When this
situation is over, we will be over. There'll be no regrets on my
part and I'm not so naïve that I think we'll have anything beyond
right now. So don't think you have to explain anything."

He came over to me and placed his palm on my cheek. "You
know something?"

"What?" I asked.

"You're pretty special too." He dropped his hand to my shoulder
and gave it an affectionate squeeze. I blushed. "And you wanna
know something else?" I didn't know if I wanted to or not, so I just
shook my head. He pointed me in the direction of the big bay
windows at the front of the house. "Looks like you got your wish."

I stared outside where big fat, fluffy flakes of snow were falling
fast and covering the ground thickly. I groaned.

"What? I thought you wanted a white Christmas." Fox seemed
confused.

"I did," I wailed, "but not like this! I wanted to be able to go out
and watch the flakes landing on me. I wanted to make a snow
man, throw snowballs, hell, make snow angels! Not watch from
inside. That's just like seeing it on television."

Mulder thought for a minute, then told me to go upstairs and put
on my warmest coat, gloves and boots. He got on the radio and
told the guys outside that we were going to go play in the snow for
a little while.

I grinned from ear to ear. "You mean it? I can go outside and
play?" I know I sounded like a little kid, but hey, I felt like one
right then.

"Yes, I mean it. But only for half an hour or so. It's still better that
we don't take too many unnecessary risks."

I raced off up the stairs to get dressed. I didn't need a second
telling and I wasn't about to give him time to change his mind.

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

What happened in the next hour or so was unbelievable. It all
happened so fast that it wasn't until later, much later, that it all
started to sink in. I'm getting a little ahead of myself here, sorry,
but even now it makes me turn into a babbling mess. As far as I
can piece together from my memory and the accounts of others
there, this is what happened:

Fox and I went outside into the snow. I was so full of wonder and
Mulder was laughing at me. He was used to the snow falling at
Christmas, but took enjoyment from my reaction to it. We
laughed together, I pounded him with snowballs. By the time I
finally stopped - reduced to a giggling mass - he looked like a
snowman! The agents that were standing watch in the outer
buildings had their attention focused on my antics, which is why
what happened is really all my fault.

Laughing so hard, I tripped on a tree root and fell into the snow, at
that same moment there was a sudden whizzing sound, followed
by a soft 'splat' as snow shook out of the tree where I had just
been standing.

"Oh Fuck," Mulder cursed loudly, "stay down, stay down!" He
threw himself protectively on top of me, simultaneously trying to
drag me into cover behind the tree. "Are you hurt?"

"No," I stammered, all laughter suddenly gone. "What's going
on?" I was confused at Mulder's seriousness.

"Sniper."

"What..???? You mean..? Oh God," I started shaking. "He's
here, isn't he? You said it was safe!! You said..." Hysteria was
building.

Mulder grabbed my shoulders and shook me. "Kim, listen to me,"
his voice was commanding, completely controlled, he held me
down low behind the tree as my flight impulse made me try to
struggle free and run. "You have to try to stay calm. Do exactly
as I say and we'll get out of this just fine. Do you hear me?"

I nodded dumbly, tears welling in my eyes that I refused to let fall.
Mulder pulled the hand-held radio from his pocket and quietly
called each of the agents around us. Agent Michaels was in the
barn and responded, saying he wasn't sure where the shot had
come from. Agent Weiss was in a well concealed "hide" over
near the driveway and reported that he couldn't see anything
either. When Mulder tried to call Agent Stern all he got was static
hiss. He tried a few more times before cursing again. Stern was
supposed to have been at the back of the house in the garage.
I'm no FBI agent, but I could tell that meant trouble. If Stern was
out of contact it meant that he been put out of commission. That
also meant that the cars were probably also out of commission.
We were cut off from escape.

It also opened up the possibility that the shooter had Stern's radio
and was listening in. "Michaels, Weiss, go to back-up channel B."
He adjusted the channel frequency to the pre-arranged back up
one, which hopefully would stop any conversations from being
overheard, then checked in with the other two agents again.
"Michaels, can you raise the Bureau for back up?"

"Land-line's dead and there seems to be something interfering
with the cellphone signal. I think he might have taken out the
local antenna. I'll keep trying."

Mulder drew his gun and cautiously popped his head around the
tree. Another shot zinged past, mere inches from his head and he
drew hastily back. He leaned back around the tree and loosed off
a volley of shots in return, not knowing exactly where to aim, but
just shooting in the general direction of where he thought the
sniper was. Michaels and Weiss were to either side of us, so
there was no chance of hitting either of them.

"We need to get under better cover." He looked about, trying to
decide where would be best, but the yard was too open and
exposed to offer anything better than where we were, outside at
least. The house was the best option for protection, but it was still
20 yards away over open ground.

Mulder called Michaels and Weiss again and asked if they had
gotten a position on the shooter from that last shot. They
responded that they had a general direction only. Mulder told
them to send some covering fire that way when he gave the word,
and that we were going to try to make the house. He told me to
be ready to run like my life depended on it - which it did!

He counted down over the radio, "Ready?" He rose to a crouch
and I followed suit. "Three, two, one, GO, GO, GO."

Loud shots rang out. Mulder grabbed my hand and ran, dragging
me along with him. He was on my right, shielding me from the
open area and the sniper. We ran faster than I've ever run
before, slipping on the frozen ground as we made for the door.
The gunfire from the other agents didn't stop the sniper from
shooting at us, the ground popped around us. Mulder stumbled
and grunted, but carried on.

We barreled through the front door, and Mulder pushed me down
onto the floor behind the couch as more bullets smashed in
through the window. We were both gasping for breath as we sat
on the floor, leaning back against the couch.

"You okay?" Mulder asked breathlessly.

I still had no breath, so all I could do was nod, my eyes closed and
body heaving to draw in oxygen.

The gunfire outside stopped. Mulder's radio crackled to life,
Agent Michaels was asking if we were all right. Mulder reached
for the radio in his pocket with his right hand, winced and used his
left instead. This drew my attention. I noticed that his right arm
was hanging limply at his side, gun still clutched in his fingers. He
looked pale and his brow was scrunched as if in pain. He was
trying to hide it from me, but I could see a hole in his sleeve and
blood slowly seeping through his jacket. My eyes were wide with
shock and he allowed his gaze to follow mine to his injured arm.

Michaels' voice on the radio was becoming more insistent.

Mulder swallowed, brought the radio up and spoke, "Yeah, we're
okay, mostly. I got hit, not too bad, but it's my right arm. How'd
you go on pinning down the shooter's location?" There were
unspoken messages being sent here that I was not privy to. But I
could work it out, it meant that Mulder use of that arm was now
severely hampered - and that included using his gun.

Weiss answered, "I got him in the stand of trees to the west. It's a
little hard to tell with all this snow falling. Only good thing about it
is that he hasn't had a clean shot at you either. I'm gonna work
my way round and see if I can come up behind him."

"Copy. Michaels, keep working on getting a line out." He shut the
radio off and turned to me, "We need to get you somewhere
safely in hiding. Come on." He started to crawl towards the
kitchen.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm gonna hide you in the cellar."

"Uh uh. No way. I've seen how the movies turn out when
someone hides down there. The killer always finds them. It's too
obvious, and there's only one way in and out."

Mulder sat back down and rolled his eyes, "Where else would you
suggest?"

"Upstairs. Somewhere where we could keep watch and have an
escape route if we need one. We can set the alarm for down here
and that would be an early warning if he gets in. I want to take a
look at that arm too." I started to crawl towards the kitchen
myself.

"Now where are you going?" he demanded.

"To get the first aid kit. I saw one in the kitchen."

"No! Stay here with me. We'll go upstairs and I'll look for
somewhere to hide you."

"Fox, you're bleeding pretty badly. We need to bandage your arm
up and stop it."

"It'll wait. First priority is to get upstairs." He grabbed my hand
and pulled me in the direction of the staircase.

We made it up without incident, he set the house alarm and
began a search for a "safe place". We came to our bedroom
doors, he slipped into his room to grab extra clips for his weapon
from his overnight bag, these he slipped into his jeans pocket.

The radio crackled on again. "Give up the girl now and no-one
else needs to get hurt." The voice was quiet, sinister in it's
calmness.

Mulder cursed again. He pressed transmit on the radio, "Weiss?
Michaels? Check in." He knew the sniper was listening, but had
to know if we could still rely on the agents outside for help. There
was only silence and static in reply. We were well and truly on our
own now.

We sat there, trying to work out what to do next. Fox's arm was
still bleeding pretty badly, he was a ghastly shade of gray and
sweat beaded his brow and upper lip. His arm was hurting him
more than he was prepared to admit, and the blood was now
running freely from under his sleeve and dripping off his hand.
The situation was looking pretty hopeless.

"I just wish there was something I could do to help. This is all my
fault," I cried. Mulder chuckled. "What's so damned funny?" I
demanded hotly.

"What you said." He was fighting to avoid succumbing to a
sleepiness that seemed to suddenly overcome him. Shock, my
first aid training told me. He was fading fast. He looked at me
with a smile, "That's usually my line."

I didn't quite understand what he meant by that, but I did know
one thing. "We can't stay here, we have to find a defensible
position. Come on." I pulled on his good arm to try to get him up.

"And just where did you undergo your law enforcement training?"
he asked in mock seriousness.

"TV." I dead-panned back at him. That caused him to laugh until
he winced with the pain it caused.

I got him upright and we started to move towards the attic stairs.
We were passing my room and I glanced towards the window
nervously, dreading seeing a man with a gun looking in.
Overactive imagination was going to make me an even bigger
nervous wreck than I was already. That's when I saw it. Of
course! Why the hell hadn't I thought of it earlier? I propped Fox
up against the wall.

"Wait here."

"Where are you going, now?" He tried to stop me.

"There's something I have to get."

"Kim, no!"

But it was too late. I slipped into my room, down on all fours and
crawled to the desk under the window. I reached up and grabbed
the laptop and then crawled back. Fox gave me a questioning
look when he saw what I had. There wasn't time to explain, we
had to get to the attic.

It was hard work getting up the narrow stairs, but we finally made
it. I was sweating pretty badly myself by the time we got to the
top, what with half dragging Fox and the fact that I still had my
snow jacket on.

I deposited the laptop in Mulder's lap as we sat getting our breath
back. I pulled my jacket off, pushed some old furniture I front of
the door after I bolted it, then sat back down and took the
computer back. I opened it and fired it up, praying that there was
plenty of battery power. It was a huge relief to see the charge was
almost full. I guess it paid off being anal about keeping it charged
up.

"What are you doing?" Mulder asked as I busily tried to log onto
the internet. The answer came to him when he saw the
connection go through successfully. "How...?"

"I don't know why I didn't think of it before," I was delighted to
finally do something positive. "It's got a satellite modem in it.
Transmission isn't dependent in on landlines or the local cellphone
network." I clicked on to my ICQ connection, which had been one
of the first things I had activated when I got the laptop two days
ago - was it only two days??? So much had happened in such a
short time.

My contacts list popped up and thankfully one of my Canadian
friends was on line, so I sent him an urgent message.

<Hi CyberGod, I desperately need your immediate help! This is
not a joke, I am with an FBI agent and someone is trying to kill us.
I need you to call the emergency services and get the Virginia
Police out to...>

"Fox? Fox!"

"Hmmm?" he was drifting on me again.

"Come on, stay awake. Where the hell are we exactly?"

He struggled to focus, "Virginia. 1342 Mockingbird Lane,
Madison."

"You're kidding, right? *Mockingbird Lane*? Jeezus whipped."

I continued typing...

<1342 Mockingbird Lane in Madison, Virginia. There is one guy
with a rifle, and he's trying to *kill us*. I swear, Todd, this is for
real.

Love and hugs (hopefully not for the last time) Kim.>

I sent the message and prayed that Todd was sitting at his
computer. A few minutes later I got a reply.

<Hey babe. LOL, that's a good one. How's your Xmas with
Donna going?? Seems like the eggnog must be pretty good.>

I strangled a frustrated cry.

<Todd, I'm not kidding around here. I am with Special Agent Fox
Mulder of the FBI. We are being stalked by a KILLER!!! I
witnessed a hit at the airport in Washington and have been in a
safe house for the last two days, but the assassin has found us!!!!
PLEASE, Todd, just call the police.> Send.

"Give them my badge number, it's JTT," Mulder paused for a
breath, "047101111." Then his eyes slid shut, as if the exertion of
speaking was too much. Oh God, I had to get some help fast.

I punched in another message without waiting for a reply.

<Todd, I'm begging you. Agent Mulder has been shot and is
bleeding to death. I might be next! Please, call the police. Tell
them Agent Mulder's badge number - JTT047101111. We need
help!!!> Send.

<Are you for real? This isn't a joke??? - CG>

<FUCK TODD!!!!!! Just get the fucking police here now!!!!>

There was no reply for a few minutes, and I strained to hear any
sounds that might betray the imminent arrival of the sniper. All I
could hear was my own panicked breathing. I even chanced a
glance out of the attic window. The afternoon light was beginning
to fade fast and it was still snowing, but I couldn't see hide nor hair
of the lunatic who'd been shooting at us.

I looked back at the computer screen and a message was
blinking. (I had turned off the audio so that we wouldn't be given
away by the telltale "Uh-oh" of the ICQ message alert.)

<Kim, are you there??? I have the Virginia police on the phone.
They want to know more details. How many suspects? How
many agents? Help is on the way... ETA 20 to 30 minutes
depending on the roads.>

Shit! I'd hadn't thought about the snow making it difficult to get
here.

<Todd, there is only one bad guy that we know of. There were 4
FBI, but I think he's disabled or killed the 3 outside. There's only
me and Mulder in the attic of the house, and he's hurt really badly.
Also, it's snowing pretty heavily. There are no lights on in the
house so tell them to look carefully. The house isn't easily visible
from the road. Oh and the sniper has a silencer on his rifle, so
warn the police.> Send.

While I waited to see what happened next, I found some old
pieces of cloth that looked reasonably clean, so I tore them into
strips to bandage Mulder's arm up as best I could.

"Come on, Fox. I'm gonna take care of that arm. We need to get
your jacket off," I undid the zipper and pulled the sleeve off his
left arm before gingerly taking it off his injured arm. He winced
with the pain but stayed with me.

"Fuck, that hurts!" He hissed.

"I'm sorry. There's so much blood, I need to stop the bleeding." I
spoke soothingly as I worked to get his sweater off. Cutting it
would have been better, but one must work with the tools one has
- in this case, none!

The sleeve was saturated with blood and when I finally exposed
the flesh I could see more dark blood flowing slowly but steadily
out of the small round hole. There was no exit wound, so the
bullet was still in there. I wadded up some of the cloth and
pressed it over the hole firmly.

Fox gasped and his eyes went wide. "Fuck, Fuck, fuckfuckfuck."

I hissed my breath in sympathy, "Sorry." I worked at wrapping the
cloth strips as firmly as possible. When I was done, Mulder's face
looked even grayer and he was struggling to remain conscious.
"Come on, you should lie down. You've lost a lot of blood." I tried
pulling him down onto the makeshift pillow I'd made out of my
jacket. He tried to resist, but I was stronger. That simple fact
scared me even more. I covered his now shivering form with his
jacket.

Another message appeared.

<Hang in there, babe. The cops are on the way, shouldn't be
much longer now. I still have them on the phone. Anything else
they should know or that they can tell you? An ambulance is
coming too. They said you should hear the sirens soon. They're
hoping that when your bad guy hears them coming he might take
off and they can get him on the road.>

"No," Mulder's voice was low, almost inaudible. He was staring at
the screen.

"What?" I realized he was reading the message.

"Tell them no sirens. They need to sneak up on him or he'll get
away. They can't let him get away."

"Okay. I'll tell them."

<Todd, Agent Mulder says no sirens. The bad guy will escape if
he hears them coming and if I'm ever to be safe again, they need
to catch this guy.> Send.

Fox was fumbling with something in his left jacket pocket.

"Do you want something?" I asked.

He nodded, "Yeah. In my pocket. My weapon. Can you get it?"
He'd put it there downstairs when he found he couldn't hold it in
his right hand any longer.

I gently pulled it out and gave it to him. He struggled upright
again, fiddled with the gun and the clip fell out onto his lap. He
motioned for me to pick the clip up.

"How many rounds left?"

I counted. "Six."

"Ok, can you get another clip out of my jeans pocket?" he rolled
slightly on to his right side to allow me access to his left side
pocket. I slid my hand in and would have welcomed the close
proximity to his groin at any other time. I grabbed a clip and
pulled my hand out.

"Here you go."

He shook his head and held the gun out to me.

"Okay, can you slid it into the gun? That's it, arrow pointing to the
front," he encouraged me. I handed the gun back to him now.
He flipped the safety catch off. "Can you pull back the slide?
That's it. That chambers a round. It's all set to shoot." Mulder
hefted the gun up in his left hand and aimed at the door. His hand
shook uncontrollably as he tried for a proper grip. "Dammit." He
let it drop back to his lap, then looked over at me rather
sheepishly, given his weakened state. "You ever fired a gun?" he
asked.

"Me?" I asked in surprise. "Not a real one. I've used a paintball
gun, and those air rifles you get at carnival side shows. That's
about it."

"C'mere," he motioned for me to sit beside him on the left, up
close. He placed the gun in my right hand and put his left arm
around me, pulling me almost into his lap. He positioned the gun
carefully in my grip and pointed it towards the door. "If anyone
but a uniformed cop comes through that door, just squeeze the
trigger very gently. Do it several times, but be careful of the kick
back. Brace yourself against something if you can."

I pulled myself from his hold, "I don't know if I can do it. I'm
scared, Fox."

He placed the gun carefully down on the floor and looked deeply
into my eyes. "I know you are. So am I. But you *can* do it if
you have to. I don't think I'm going to be able to do it myself, so
you have to, understand?"

I nodded, tears welling up.

"It'll be all right," he soothed, he brought his good hand up to
stroke my cheek with his thumb. "If the door moves or you hear
anyone out there, just yell a warning that you're armed. If you
don't get an immediate response or you think it's him, fire a
warning shot in the general direction of the door. If it's the police
out there, they should tell you so. Think up a code word for them
to use and send it to your friend. If you don't hear that word, or
the door just busts in, shoot for all you're worth."

"What about you? You'll tell me whether to shoot or not, won't
you?" My voice was shaking now as more tears threatened.

"I don't know if I can stay awake. I'm kinda graying out here. It
depends on how long it takes them to get here. I'm sorry."

A rebel tear did escape then. I cupped his face in my hands and
kissed his dry lips. "You stay with me. Promise me you won't
leave me alone here." Please God, let him be all right!

"I can't promise, but I'll try. Send the message." He pointed
towards the laptop with his chin.

"Okay. But you have to lie down again." I kissed him again, lay
him back down, then went back to type the new message.

<Todd?? You still have the Virginia Police on the line? Mulder
says for me to give them a code word so that if they come up to
the attic I'll know it's them. He's given me his gun and told me to
yell out "FBI - I'm armed" if I hear anyone at the door. If I don't
get the code word in response, he told me to shoot. I don't want
to do that, but I'm so scared.

Tell them the code word is....>

What? Shit, what word do I use? My nick on the 'net? No, that
was on some stuff in my backpack. There's a slim chance the
bad guy might have seen it and would think to say it. I know...

<CyberGod.> Send.

A few more agonizing minutes went by. Then,

<The VPD said it was good thinking. I'm happy for you to use my
nick. They said to follow Agent Mulder's instructions. If you don't
hear the code word, shoot. They said unless you are experienced
with a gun you probably wouldn't hit anything, but you might keep
him back until they find you.

New ETA is ten minutes.

I'm thinking of you, babe. {{{}}} Todd>

"Hey, Fox. The cops think you're idea is great. Thanks." When I
got no answer, I looked around at him. "Fox?" he was
unconscious. I felt for a pulse in his neck and when I found it I
started breathing again. But it wasn't strong. I checked the
makeshift bandage and it was soaked through with blood. I tried
to remember my first aid training, but my mind was going blank.
Was there something else I should be doing? Time to get some
outside advice again.

<Todd. Agent Mulder has lost consciousness. He's still losing a
lot of blood. I bandage the wound, but it's still bleeding. I can't
remember what to do. Ask the PD to get me some medical
advice. I'm so worried that he's going to die.> Send.

Time seemed to have slowed to an agonizing pace.

<Medics say if you've bandaged the wound tightly you've done
about all you can there. The only other thing is to get him flat with
his lower extremities elevated to help circulation to the heart and
head.

How are you, hon? You're not hurt are you? They want to know.>

I looked around and found a smallish cardboard carton which I
propped behind Fox's knees. It didn't look terribly comfortable,
but it would have to do. His color improved slightly almost
immediately.

I went back to Todd.

<I'm fine, just a little shaky. I've put a box under Mulder's feet
and his color is a little better. Is there nothing else I can do?? He
feels so cold.> Send.

<Medics say just keep him as warm as possible. You're doing
fine, babe. Cops want to know if you're still secure there.>

I looked around and but couldn't find anything else to cover Fox
with, so I pulled my jacket out from under his head and wiggled in
close. I put his head back in my lap and covered him with my
jacket. I had the laptop on the floor next to me so I picked it up
and balanced it on Fox's chest. I wasn't sure how he'd take being
used as a table, but right now he was in no position to complain. I
checked the gun was still within reach, near my right hand. The
thought of maybe having to use it filled me with renewed dread.
Christ, how could my quiet little holiday have turned to this much
shit? The only good thing since leaving California was the little
tryst that Fox and I'd had.

<Todd, we're still fine here for now. I don't know where the bad
guy is. I don't know if he knows where we are, but there's a pretty
good blood trail to lead him to us. Tell the cops the alarm is on in
the house and will go off when they come in.>

Of course that was assuming that said bad guy hadn't disabled it.

<Babe, cops are at the driveway now. Should be with you in just
a few.>

I prayed that none of the police would get hurt. I still had no idea
what had happened to the three other FBI agents, but I didn't want
anyone getting hurt.

I thought I heard a noise outside the door. Just faint, a creak of a
stair. My heart raced and I grabbed the gun, putting the laptop
onto the floor. I shook Mulder's shoulder, "Fox," I whispered,
"Fox, wake up. Please!" There was no response, he was out
cold. I craned my head around but from this position I couldn't
see out the window to be able to tell if the police were here yet.

A rattle dragged my attention back to the door. The knob turned
and the door pushed open as far as the furniture I'd stacked in
front of it would allow, which wasn't far enough to even get a hand
inside. The door jammed and wouldn't open any further.

Shaking uncontrollably, I remember what Fox had told me. In as
big a voice as I could manage I called out, "Stay where you are,
I'm armed and will shoot if you come any further!"

We weren't directly in line with the door, so even if this was the
bad guy and he shot through the door, I hoped we'd be safe
enough. Just as long as that damned door stayed stuck!

A voice answered from the door, "It's ok. I'm FBI. It's Agent
Stern. I'm here to help. Move the blockage from the door and let
me in."

"NO!!!" I yelled. "The police are right downstairs. I'll wait for
them."

I thought I heard a soft curse but couldn't be sure. It went quiet
for a minute, then there was a loud crash as the person outside
tried to force the door. I screamed and squeezed the trigger of
the gun. The blast was deafening and I screamed again half in
surprise. Fox was right about one thing - real guns do have a hell
of a kick back.

I lost track of exactly how many times I fired, but it must have only
been three or four. The door was still now, yet I didn't stop
pointing the gun in that direction. My breath was coming in
ragged gasps and I was sure I was going to hyperventilate.

As my hearing gradually readjusted I could hear shouting and
running in the house. I heard more gunfire that sounded like it
came from somewhere inside the house. More shouting, words I
couldn't make out in my panicked state.

Then someone was at the door again.

I was frozen with terror and my hands were shaking badly.

This time no-one tried to open the door but a voice, calm and
soothing called out, "Agent Mulder? Miss Jacobs? This is Officer
Curtis with Virginia Police." He paused waiting for a response, but
I just couldn't give one. "Ma'am?...... Can you hear me? Are
you all right?" Another pause.

I really wanted to answer, but for the life of me, I just couldn't. I
heard hushed voices talking and then a new voice called out,
"Kim? This is Sergeant Roberts. Everything's okay now." I heard
a sigh, then, "Okay, how about 'CyberGod'?"

Hearing that word broke my stupor. I blinked, dragged in a ragged
breath and dropped the gun. Then I began to tremble and the
flood of tears that I'd been holding back suddenly broke free. I
looked down at the unconscious form resting in my lap. "Help's
here, Fox. Hold on, we'll get you to a hospital now. You'll be fine,
you have to be fine." I stroked his forehead and leaned down to
plant a soft kiss there, then gently shifted his head back to the
makeshift pillow.

I scrambled up and started to push the heavy old chest of drawers
away from the door. The policemen on the other side pushed
from their side and we soon had the door open wide enough for
them to squeeze through.

"Are you all right?" Said one of them.

I nodded, "Yes, but Agent Mulder's not. We have to get him to
the hospital."

Sergeant Roberts (for that's who it was) said that they'd take care
of him and propelled me through the door. I was hustled
downstairs where I found Assistant Director Skinner striding in,
following the paramedics with their stretcher.

Someone put a blanket around my shivering shoulders and a cup
of hot coffee was pushed into my hands. Strange, I think this is
back where all this began. I shivered with a sense of deja vu.

Skinner spied me and was sitting beside me in just a few short
strides. "Are you all right?"

Why does everyone keep asking me that? I'm fucking well fine!
I'm afraid I glared at Skinner. "It's not me you need to worry
about. F.. Mulder's hurt pretty bad. He saved me." I saw Skinner
send a furtive glance up the stairway. I could see he was worried
about Fox, but duty demanded that he see to me first. "What
about the Bad Guy?" I asked.

"Uh, he's dead. The police had him cornered and.... You don't
need to worry about him any more."

"So. It's all over then?"

"Yeah, it's all over."

The medics were coming down the stairs, carrying the stretcher
between them. I ran over to them with Skinner in tow. Fox
looked so pale, wrapped up in the blankets. There was an oxygen
mask on his face and an intravenous line disappeared in under
the blanket, feeding much needed fluids into him. I walked beside
the stretcher, holding on to Fox's hand until we reached the
waiting ambulance and the medics loaded him in.

They were about to close the doors when Skinner spoke up. "I
think Miss Jacobs is in shock and needs to go in the ambulance
with you. I'll have agents follow on and meet you there."

I started to protest that I was fine, until I saw a slight smile on
Skinner's face. I mouthed a silent 'Thank you' and climbed into
the ambulance. The doors slammed shut and in seconds we were
screaming along as fast as the weather conditions would allow.

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

December 25, 6.00pm
Madison County Hospital

I sat dejectedly in the waiting room. I'd been there for what
seemed like hours, with everyone ignoring me. Even the FBI
agent sat across from me seemed to look through me. Well, I
guess since I didn't need protecting anymore....

AD Skinner came in and spoke to the other agent, then came over
to me. "How's he doing?"

I gave a hurrumph. "Don't ask me. They won't tell me anything."
The doctor who'd examined me said I was fine and didn't need
anything more than a good shoulder to cry on and a decent night's
rest, but I guess Mr Skinner had more important things on his
mind and wasn't really interested in me.

He got up and went in search of someone who could give him
some answers. I looked around, wondering what the fuck I was
going to do now. The FBI were obviously finished with me, but I
had nowhere to go. I figured they'd probably put me on the next
plane to New York, although by the time I got there it would
probably be midnight. I wanted to stay until I knew Fox was going
to be all right.

I didn't hear Skinner come back and I jumped when he spoke.
"Mulder's going to be fine. They got the bullet out and there's no
major damage. He lost a lot of blood, but he'll be as good as new
in a few days." He smiled encouragingly.

"I'm glad. I was worried about him. He's been.... nice... to me."
I blushed and I'm sure that Skinner knew exactly what had been
going on. "So, what now?"

If Skinner noticed my discomfort, he didn't show it. "Now? Well, I
guess we make arrangements for you to continue your vacation.
We'll find you a hotel for tonight and get you on a plane to New
York tomorrow. I'll take of the arrangements."

"Thanks," I muttered. I could call Donna from the hotel and tell
her. I should have been overjoyed, but somehow it all seemed...
flat. I started to walk towards the exit where the agent who'd sat
with me before was waiting.

"Kim?" Skinner called to me before I got very far, "Would you like
to go up and see Mulder before you go?"

I brightened immediately. "Can I?"

"I don't see why not. He's still out of it, but you reassure yourself
that he's really all right."

Fox was indeed 'out of it'. He lay against the pillows, still pale and
sick looking. His arm was heavily bandaged and supported on
another pillow. A heart monitor beeped quietly away beside the
bed and the IV pole sported various bags of fluids and blood.

I glanced nervously behind me and saw that Skinner had left me
alone with him. I went up to the bed and took one of Fox's hands
in mine. I brushed the hair back from his forehead and planted a
kiss there before anyone came in and shoo'd me away. I gently
stroked his cheek and whispered in his ear, "Get well soon, Fox.
I'll never forget you."

Then Skinner was back and I had to go.

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

Donna's apartment, Manhattan, New York.
December 31, 8.30am.

I trudged into the kitchen, yawning, drawn there by the smell of
fresh coffee.

Donna was on the phone but hung up rather hurriedly when I
came in. "Morning," she said a little too brightly.

"Yeah, I guess it is," I grumbled back. I'm not a morning person,
especially after the late nights we'd had all week. Donna had
been marvelous at cheering me up and getting me back down to
earth after my little adventure. I'd told her all about the wonderful
Fox Mulder, salivating as I remembered our time together.

I sat at the kitchen table with the coffee I'd just poured and inhaled
its aroma. "What's on today's agenda?" We'd discussed various
possibilities the night before but hadn't made any firm decisions
other than meeting Donna's boyfriend later and winding up in
Times Square for midnight.

"Well," Donna sat down opposite me, "you have exactly half an
hour to shower and dress ready for a day out and about."

"Where are we going?" I asked, sipping the wonderful coffee.
No-one makes coffee like New York coffee I'd decided.

"*We* aren't going anywhere. *You* are going out."

"Where? Who with?"

Donna pulled me up from the chair and pointed me in the
direction of the bathroom. "It's a surprise. Now go and get
ready."

"Yes, Mom!" I mocked.

The allotted half hour I was given to be ready slipped by too
quickly. I was curious as to what Donna had organized for me
and I was sure that phone call this morning was something to do
with it. I was still in the bedroom dressing when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Donna yelled out.

I heard the door open and close, and hushed whispers floated in
from the living room. My curiosity made me hurry to finish and
get out to the living room to see who had arrived. When I got
there, there was no-one there other than Donna. Strange, I could
have sworn someone came in but didn't leave. I looked around
suspiciously. "Donna? What are you up to?"

She threw me a wide-eyed innocent look that I didn't believe for
an instant. A silky voice from behind me in the kitchen took me
by surprise.

"She was sworn to secrecy, you can blame me."

I whirled around... and there was Fox.

"Oh my God!!" I launched myself at him and threw my arms
around his neck, backing off instantly at his hiss of pain. "Oh
God, I'm sorry. I forgot about your arm. How is it?"

"Sore, but I'll live." He indicated the awkward sling that barely
showed under his trenchcoat. "I have to wear this for a few more
days."

We stood there, staring at each other like a couple of tongue tied
school kids for a few more minutes, then he reached for me with
his good arm and pull me into an embrace. "I'm glad you're
okay."

"Me? I'm not the one who got shot. I was so scared you were
going to die, and then I had to leave and you hadn't woken up." I
knew I was babbling, but it was just so good to see him again.

"Ahem." Donna reminded us that she was still there. "Would you
like some coffee, Agent Mulder?"

A little embarrassed, Mulder said, "No, thank you. I've planned
the whole day, starting with breakfast." He looked shyly at me.
"That is, if you'd like to spend the day with me."

"Would I?? You even have to ask? I'd love to!" I ran to get my
coat.

As I passed Donna on the way out the door, I whispered, "Didn't I
tell you he was a real Fox!" She winked in reply and wished us
both a good day.

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

Mulder told me he was going to show me around New York, I
didn't have the heart tell him that Donna already had, but the
places he took me were so different than where I'd already been.
We had breakfast at Tiffany's, rode a Handsome Cab in Central
Park, and went on the Staten Island ferry. We laughed together
and had a really great time.

There was only one question I had still burning in my mind from
that horrible Christmas Day. I hated to ask, but I needed to know.
"Fox, how did the Bad Guy find me? He seemed to know where
your people were and everything."

He sighed sadly. "We found out Agent Collins had been paid off.
The assassin waited until he thought our guard would be at its
lowest point. I.. I'm sorry. I could have gotten you killed. Instead
you saved my life."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You couldn't have known. If
anyone should take the blame, it's me. I hounded you into letting
me go outside, I seduced you." I admonished him.

"Dammit, it's my job to know!" He was angry with himself.

I shushed him and changed the subject. The afternoon was
wearing on, and fox told me he had one more place he wanted to
take me.

He took me to the top of the Empire State Building just as the sun
was setting. It was so beautiful and romantic, I didn't want it to
end, although I knew it would all too soon.

After a wonderful dinner, we met up with Donna and Steve, and
made our way to Times Square. The crush of people was
unbelievable and I was afraid someone would hurt Fox's arm. I
tried to put myself between it and any potential threat, but he
would have none of it. He tucked me in close with his good arm
around my shoulders.

The snow was falling gently as the countdown to midnight began.
10... 9... 8... Fox turned to face me, 7... 6... 5... He cupped my
chin gently in his hand, 4... 3... 2... Then he kissed me. I was
oblivious to the shouts and cheers going on around us, I was
drowning in that kiss.

When we finally came up for air, I saw that Donna and Steve were
as engrossed as we had been. All four of us were covered in
bright streamers and I laughed. I was having the time of my life.
I would never forget this vacation, or Fox Mulder, for as long as I
lived.

The End.

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