DISCLAIMER: X-Files, Mulder, Scully and all related characters belong to that amazing (and frustrating) person called Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and the Fox Network. I mean no infringement. I am just borrowing the characters briefly to fulfil a couple of dreams, and I give them back undamaged by the experience (to the best of my ability of course! I am not perfect, and I forget things sometimes. Hehehhehe).

CATEGORY: ST and MSR themes.

RATING: R

SPOILERS: Well, no real references, except a fleeting wave over SR 819 and Millennium.

NOTE: . Through a discussion I had with Dolphin and Yoko at PAX, the idea for this story eventuated.

AUTHOR: Triton

triton-x@yahoo.com

DATE: December 2nd, 1999

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Frohike adjusted the lens on the microscope and bent over the eyepiece one more time. With a satisfied grin, he turned and made his announcement with satisfaction.

"I do believe we have found a winner. Come and have a look, guys!" and he waved his short stocky arms towards the workbench.

Mulder put down the magazine he had been reading, stood up from the prehistoric and tatty couch, and brushing away the dust motes that had collected on the back of his trousers, loped across the cluttered room. He bent over the microscope and stared intently at the image that appeared. A few seconds later, he stood again, cleared his throat, and looked around for Scully.

She was curled up in a corner nook, glasses perched atop her nose, reading through a pile of documents, and making notes in the columns.

"Umm....Scully, do you want to take a look?" Mulder asked across the room.

"In a minute, Mulder. I want to finish siting these references first" she murmured back. Mulder shrugged, and moved back to the couch, sinking into the cushions amongst a flurry of dust particles. Picking up the discarded magazine, he began reading again.

Frohike gazed back and forth between the two federal agents, scratching his head in puzzlement. He had been discreetly observing them both since they arrived a few hours earlier, and frankly, was more than concerned. Neither had spoken, apart from passing on the relevant information to him. Once they had handed him the vial of liquid and the relevant documented notes, they had settled themselves down in different areas of the Lone Gunmen’s cramped office-workshop, and had absorbed themselves in private tasks.

Frohike had sensed some friction between them earlier, but once he had gotten underway with his investigation, the room had become silent. There had been no bantering between them, no transferring of information, no joking, no heated discussions. Whenever he had asked a question, there would be a moment of silence before one of them would answer in a single monotone response. In the seven years since Mulder and Scully had been partnered together, Frohike had never observed this kind of interaction between them, and he sorely missed the sound of their voices.

"Weirdness" he muttered to himself, as he moved over to the couch. He halted in front of the dispirited man, and crossed his cropped-gloved hands across his chest, looking down at Mulder. "So, I have spent two hours analysing that sample, and you can’t be bothered to comment on it, Mulder?" Mulder shrugged and waved his hand in the general direction of his partner.

"This is Scully’s field of expertise, Frohike. When she is ready to look at the sample, she will." There was a note of disdain in his voice, but as he looked over at his partner, Frohike noticed a momentary flicker of nervous emotion pass through Mulder’s eyes.

Frohike snorted, and turned towards the other agent. Scully hadn’t moved from her position, and was nibbling on the end of her pen. He looked back to Mulder.

"OK guys, I’ve had enough of this. What is going on between you two!" he finally voiced, exasperated.

Scully sighed heavily, threw the handful of papers onto the table, and marched across the room. "That is the problem, Frohike, there is nothing going on between us!" she scoffed as she grabbed the microscope less than gently, giving Frohike cause to shudder, and she bent over to look at the sample. "..and yes - that is the microscopic entity that I have seen before in Skinner’s blood work. I’d like to be able to dissect this entity, Frohike."

Scully worked solidly at extracting the small item from the sample on the glass plate, and through the endeavour, Frohike watched Mulder offer his assistance in an extremely professional manner, politely and respectfully, but without the usual bantering that Frohike was accustomed to witnessing between them. It was almost as though Mulder was unwilling to touch Scully, as he hovered at a distance around her. There seemed to be an air of despondency, which was starting to get on Frohike’s nerves.

After 30 minutes, he finally threw up his hands and snapped "OK, I know this is really out of line, but this situation has gone beyond a joke! Whatever it is you are arguing about this time, just cut it out - the friction in here is thick enough to cut through. Why don’t you both just fuck each other and get over it!"

There was dead silence as both Agents turned their eyes to Frohike. The tension thickened even further, before Scully glanced quickly at Mulder then back to Frohike. A sadness washed over her face as she responded.

"We already have Frohike. That’s the problem! We did it. And it was much ado about nothing, really!" and she turned and left the building, slamming the door behind her.

Frohike gulped, and reddened in embarrassment, he had not expected a frank and honest answer, he had been trying to clear the air with his teasing. He turned to Mulder, raising his eyebrow in query. Mulder walked slowly back over to the couch and sank into it downheartedly, placing his hands over his face in defeat.

*******

They had kissed at midnight, a soft sweet touching of lips that left them both smiling self-consciously at each other. They had left the hospital quietly, initially uncomfortable with the change of emotion that both were experiencing. They had gone back to their motel, and had rummaged through the mini-bar to find a small bottle of wine, and had shared this as a toast to the beginning of a new stage to their relationship. The wine had settled their nerves, and they had kissed again.

Tentatively they had moved to the couch and embraced, kissing again, waiting for the spark to begin igniting a passion. The spark had flared briefly, and they had undressed each other hesitantly, gazing unabashedly at their nakedness. They came together, letting skin touch skin, but the chemistry didn’t evolve to a stage that sated their needs. They tried arousing each other in a variety of methods, touching, stroking, moving. But their skin remained dry, erogenous zones didn’t soften, dilate or pulse. An erection couldn’t be sustained. The moisture required to lubricate didn’t produce in enough quantity to allow penetration. Muscles swollen and sore through exertion finally gave up and throbbed painfully.

After an hour, they had turned away from each other, embarrassed and cheerless, and had gone to their own beds, solitary and miserable.

They tried to discuss this encounter the following day, wondering whether another attempt was required, but feelings of guilt and remorse grew stronger, words providing empty concessions, and regret set in. They stopped joking with each other, as it reminded them of their ultimate failure. Even looking at each other caused heartache, so they stopped doing this also. The canyon between them widened daily, and soon they were working alongside empty shells of their previous partnership.

They lost the fervour of their united strength, the urge to search the truth wavered.

In a short period of time, they destroyed each other.

(In the background, CC laughed hysterically - "Suckers!!")

END