Title: Downpour In The Desert Of My Love - A Badfic Vinaigrette
Author: Anubis-Lite  
E-mail: AnubisLM@aol.com 
Rating: NC-17. Sex boosts circulation.  
Disclaimer: The characters in this story bear no recognition to the ones you see on TV. If, 
however, you do see a brief  resemblance, please note that it was not in any way 
intentional.  
Spoilers: Wait one hour after consuming a full meal.  Summary: Plot? You've got high 
hopes.  
Distribution: Stick it where you think it belongs.

 

Title: A Downpour In The Desert Of My Love  
By: Anubis-Lite

 

Fox Mulder loved Dana Scully.

The thought came to him, unbidden and without a warrant. Lightening struck in the desert 
of his heart and his world  suddenly revolved on its axles.  After all this time, Mulder 
rationalized that he really did love Dana Scully! Once upon a  time, back when his sister 
Samantha had floated away all glowing and illuminated like Tinkerbell, Mulder had felt his  
heart dry up inside He thought he would never love again. Now, watching Scully chew 
delicately on a number two pencil  that had fallen from the ceiling, he knew the past was 
finally gone and dismembered. He loved Dana! She made him feel  like no one had felt 
before. Mulder looked down, checking to make sure his trousers were zipped just in case 
she was  looking and saw proof of his love.  He wanted to wait and let it be a surprise at a 
more inopportune time.

Fox thought about his feelings for Scully as he pursued a file folder. On the outside he was 
hard and on the inside he was  all warm and gooey sort of like an Almond Joy bar. He 
decided he shouldn't think about his love while he was supposed to  be working unless he 
wanted to piss Skinner off. His boss was already pissed about all the vacation and sick 
time he had  taken running off after UFOs. Mulder didn't want to push it. A describable 
amount of time passed and he decided he hadn't  had lunch yet and should take a break. 
Maybe it was time to head out of the basement offices for some lunch. He could use  
something to eat.

"Hey Scully, I'm heading out of the basement offices for some lunch. Can I invest you in 
joining me?" He grinned and put  on his puppy dog eyes, hoping her heart would melt like 
a Fudgesicle in July. It didn't work too good because Scully didn't  even bother to look up 
from her outspread files.

"No, I'm busy," she growled. The tone in her voice wasn't very friendly and it made 
Mulder draw himself upward. He  almost ran into the doorway because he was too busy 
being indignant and hurt to watch where he was going. What was  wrong with Scully? He 
shook his head slightly and made a big sighing noise like he was a bottle of pop all shook 
up that  had just been opened, except he didnąt squirt fluids on anyone. Maybe Scully 
didn't like him! Maybe she was tired of all  his excuses and feelings of irregularity!

He trudged outside, his heart in his mouth. He would have lunch without Dana Scully. He 
would show her! Shaking his  head he felt tears gather round the corneas of his eyes. One 
really *was* the loneliest number. After zero.  Nobody ever  remembered that zero was a 
number, too, so he supposed that zero was the loneliest number, *not* one because  
everybody forgot about zero.  Like everybody forgot about him.

* * * * * * * 

"Geez, I thought he'd never leave," Scully muttered to herself. She had work to do.

She had to write a good-bye note to Mulder.

Skinner came to her earlier in the weak and offered her a transfer. She would be in charge 
of the forensics department at  Quantico. It was a major promotion, and Skinner never gave 
her the chance to turn it down. He said it was a done deal,  and that if she backed out, 
Mulder could be on jeopardy.

Scully sighed, her heart heavy in her chest. How was she going to be able to leave him? He 
was the only man she had ever  loved. Well, except for Marcus, the 12th-grade love of her 
life, but they were young and Dana wanted more out of life  than a ride on a pumper truck. 
She wanted a man who would love her and stand by her side. She wanted a man who 
would  cover her back and shoot at the bad guys, and every once in a while she would save 
his ass, too. She wanted a man who  would go to the ends of the earth to find her, across 
icebergs and desserts and back again.

She wanted Mulder. 

She started to sob as she realized it was a dream that would never come true. Tears fell 
from her eyes like a  long-awaited rain during a drought. This was why she had to write the 
note. She couldn't tell him in person. It would be  too hard to bare.

Scully swiped the tears from her cheeks and sniffled. She had to pull herself together. She 
was a professional. He would  get over her, just as she would get over him. He had to 
know she would leave him at some point. It was inedible. 

Scully cleared her throat and realized even though she had been crying, her throat was 
perched. She was so thirsty, she  felt like she had moth balls in her mouth. Scully looked at 
the mug on her desk and found nothing but trace amounts of  her morning coffee. She 
huffed and went to the coffee maker on the other side of the office.

"Of course. No coffee." 

Scully resolved herself to make a trek upstairs to get some fresh coffee, and was lucky 
enough to find the elevator empty.  She would endure the comments and stairs from her co-
workers. She was used to it. They both were. Scully reproached  the coffee pot and didn't 
let her eyes wander. If you don't make eye contact, they won't speak to you. At least in 
theory,  she thought as she heard the ruffling of clothes behind her.

"Good morning Agent Scully," came a pleasant voice.

Scully turned to find Kimberly, Skinner's secretary, standing behind her with two coffee 
mugs.

"Good morning," Scully said formally. She didn't want to talk to this woman but she 
didn't want to be rude Everyone  already called her the Ice Queen. No sense in adding the 
word Rude to her title.

"Did you get the memo?" Kimberly asked as she pored coffee in the mugs. 

"What memo?" Scully's curiosity was peaked.

"The one about the multi-agency costume ball," she exclaimed. "Everyone has to go. 
Skinner's orders."

"Everyone?!" Scully wined.

"Yes, everyone! It's for charity and even the President will be there. Skinner said it will be 
a feather in our cat to make  a good showing in front of the President."

"It's budget time, isn't it?" Scully devised.

Kimberly nodded and leaned into her. "Rumor has it, Skinner's going as a pirate. Couldn't 
you just die?!" She fluttered  away, her heels barely hitting the ground.

Scully shook her head. As if she didn't have enough trouble already, having to leave 
Mulder. Now she has to do some  stupid ball! Why did these things always happen to her?!

She walked quickly back to the basement, forgoing the elevator for the stairwell. Once back 
in the sanction of their  office, Scully took a sip of her coffee, which had already gotten 
cold. It didn't matter anyway. After going upstairs to get  fresh coffee, she realized the 
thirst in her throat was something coffee could not quench. Only Mulder could quench it.  
Her thirst for him was as long and deep as the Nile itself.

"Stop thinking like that, Starbuck," she chastised. She and Mulder could never be. Sure, 
they were always walking that  line between friendship and something more than 
friendship. She always felt like they were doing a slow waltz, to no  music at all, each just 
out of the other's reach.

"Great," Scully said as she dropped into her seat. "I can't tell him now." 

"Tell me what, Scully?"

Scully turned to see her partner standing in the doorway.

* * * * * * *

Mulder watched Scully watching him as he stopped through the doorway. He was still 
preoccupied with trying to figure  out the loneliest number. Right about now, he had settled 
on thirteen because thirteen was hated and feared,  just as he  had been hated and feared 
years earlier when he was the golden calf of the Behavorial Investigation Unit and caught 
the  infamous serial killer, Monty Hall. Now he was stuck in the basement offices of the 
FBI working closely with a woman he  loved but couldn't have, like in The Nanny.

"Tell me what, Scully?" Mulder stated the oblivious.

"Nothing. I'm fine," Dana spluttered convincingly.

Fox noticed the shuttle way she avoided eye contact. What was going on? A long silence 
stretched between them, longer  and quieter than the silence after a really bad Demi Moore 
movie. The air in the room dropped several degrees. Mulder  continued to stare at Dana 
intently, hoping to penetrate her. She looked away, pretending to be interested in a file.

Fine, Mulder thought to himself. Let her be that way. There were plenty of other fish in the 
sea. One of them was sure to  make him forget all about Dana and his unacquainted love. 
Swinging his lanky flame into his chair, he flipped through the  interoffice mail, assuming 
an air of non chalice.

"We have to go to the multi-agency costume ball!" Mulder blurted out,  reading Skinner's 
memo.

"The President is going to be there. It's for charity," Scully complained. 

Mulder rolled his eyes across the room. The FBI was always having parties for charity. He 
never went to them because  usually he was in Russia or Antartica or Puerto Rico or 
something and he missed them. But this time he wasn't planning  on running after any 
aliens, so maybe he could experience one of the FBI's balls. Come to think of it, a masker 
raid ball  might be the perfect place to reveal his feelings for Scully. Technically, it would 
be  during non work hours so he could tell her he loved her without compromising his 
professionalism and suffering severe  percussions from Skinner or one of those 
submersive committees.

"I'll meet you there at seven o'clock," Mulder was filled with the unfamiliar sensation of 
excitement as he made his  decision. His stomach fluttered and he felt all cool and tingly 
inside, like he had just bit into a York Peppermint Pattie.  He was going to the costume ball 
with Scully and he was going to tell her he loved her! He must be dreaming. Just to be  
sure,  he pinched himself on the cheeks.

"But... But..." Scully stammered, trying to collate her thoughts. 

"Seven o'clock, Scully." Mulder smiled coyly. "And use your imagination." 

* * * * * * * 

Four hours and twenty seven minutes later, Mulder stared at his reflection in the closet 
mirror and nodded. Perfect.  His  neighbor had gone to the opening of an art gallery last 
month. It had been a costume party, too, and the theme was Egypt.  Luckily, they were the 
same size. Though, Mulder supposed with a rye grin, there wasn't very much material to 
the  costume so it didn't matter. He stared at himself some more, noting the pleated white  
skirt, thin laced-up sandals, shiny gold metal bands at his wrists and around his neck and a 
white piece of cloth held to  his head with another gold band. Perfect! He flecked his 
muscles, showing off his bare chest.  Scully was bound to go  crazy when she saw him 
dressed up like a barge boy!

He grabbed his ancient looking staff which completed the outfit and headed out the door.

* * * * * * * 

Scully left the office early and ran home fast. She had only a few hours to find a costume! 
What could she go as? She  thought about what Mulder would do. Knowing him, he 
would put on a suit and a Richard Nixon mask, and walk around  saying "I am not a crock" 
all night.

She found the yellow pages and started calling costume shops. Most of the stores were all 
rented out, as other agents had  called and preserved their costumes already. The last store 
on the list was her jackpot.

Bernie's House of Fun, named for its proprietary Bernie, was a few miles from Scully's 
apartment. Bernie knew she was  coming and had set aside some costumes he thought 
would fit her. Bernie was a jovial man, round-faced with cheeks as  pink as a baby's 
bottom and a ring of white hair surrounding his head, sort of like a Bozo the Clown, only 
if Bozo had  white hair, was a foot shorter and wore glasses.

Scully took the costumes into a dressing room and tried them on. One was a French maid 
costume that she was tempted to  take. Wouldn't Fox Mulder die if she walked into the 
costume ball with that on?! It barely hit her mid-thigh and it was  very low cut, showing off 
her ampul bosom. Scully shook her head. It was too riskay to wear to an FBI affair. 

The next one was a wedding dress. She took one look at it and tossed it aside. She was not 
going to show up at the party  dressed as a bribe. The only time she would wear a wedding 
dress was when she married Fox William Mulder! 

The next one was a Star Trek uniform, like the one Voyager's Captain Amway wore. 
Though she looked good in it, she  thought it was a bad choice. Her partner was already 
thought of as Spooky Mulder, who chases after aliens and UFOs. No,  the Star Trek 
costume had too many negative constellations attached to it.

The final costume was the perfect one. It was a white flowing dress, gathered with elastic 
just below her beasts. The  accessories included gold bands for her wrists and neck, a gold 
snake for her bicep, gold sandals and a gold sash for her  waste.

She stepped out of the dressing room and looked at herself in the mirror. She liked what 
she saw. The costume was  fluttering on her, showing off her pretty shapes. But it was 
missing something. Bernie appeared behind her. 

"Oh!" Bernie exclaimed. "I forgot one thing." 

Bernie loped into the back room and returned quickly with a shoulder-length black wig.  
He helped her on with it,  tucking her hair to make sure none of the auburn tressels peaked 
out from underneath. He placed an elaborate gold  tiara-like thing over the wig.

Bernie kissed his fingers like the mater dee at an Italian restaurant. "Perfect! You make the 
perfect Cleopatra!"

Scully's smile lit up her face like a lightning storm lights up a desert sky during a really bad 
thunderstorm in the  summer.

She was going to knock Mulder's sucks off!!

* * * * * * * 

The site of the transformed FBI ballroom stunned Fox Mulder. The decorating committee 
had managed to covert the room  into a sparking desert oasis! Gold stars hung from the 
ceiling, white lights tinkled overhead and there were huge paper  machete trees everywhere. 
The peace de resistance was the sand which coated the surface of the floor. It was real 
sand!  The room reminded Mulder of that old black and white movie, Lawrence of the 
Arabs, except everything was in color.

Mulder searched the room with his eye. Was Scully here already? His heart fluttered and 
leapt from his breast cage as  he checked the crowd who had shown up for the FBI charity 
panty. There was a woman in a cat suit, several dead  presidents and two field officers 
posting as Elvis. He shook his head in dejection. None of them were Scully. She must not  
have arrived yet. 

"Arrrrrrr matey!"

Mulder felt something hard press against his neck. Instinct kicked him and he whirled 
around to confront his attacker. It  was Skinner dressed up like a pirate, the shaft of his 
cardboard sword held to his neck! Skinner looked debonaire in his  silky red pants, leather 
vest without a shirt and eye patch. This was all topped off by a banana wrapped around his 
bald  head and a small gold hoop earring in one ear. The muscles in Skinner's arms bulged 
and danced and Mulder couldn't help  but be memorized by them.

"Ready to walk the plank?" Skinner growled.

Mulder decided to play with Skinner. "Was it my last expense report? I can explain that!"

Skinner withdrew his shaft from Mulder and tucked it back into his pants. "Looks like you 
might win the costume  contest, Mulder." 

"Contest?" Mulder squeaked.

"They're judging at nine o'clock. The winner gets dinner for two at O'Briens." Skinner 
shook his head, resigning to the  fact that Mulder's costume looked better than his. It 
certainly was skimpy enough.  "I could use a stiff one, Mulder. How  about you?"

They waked over to the bar compatibly and ordered drinks. They drank a couple of shots 
of whiskey in silence and Mulder  nervously checked his watch. What was taking Scully so 
long? Wasn't she going to come tonight?  Suddenly, without  warning, all the air was 
sucked out of the room in a similar manner that coffee is vacuum packed for your 
convenience.  Mulder felt himself being explicitly drawn. His eyes were pulled out of his 
head and toward the doorway. There, a woman  stood in a white flowing gown, gold 
jewelry and long black hair. She was the most beautiful appearation he had ever seen!  
Mulder blinked, realizing that the woman was Scully!

Skinner sighed out loudly. "She looks like an angle."

Mulder thought that was an odd thing for his boss to say, but he couldn't respond. He was 
looking at Scully, seeing how  beautiful she was. A nervous pickle of fear settled into his 
stomach. What if she didn't love him? What if Scully didn't  feel the same way he did? 
Stealing himself, Mulder gulped the rest of his drink. Tonight was the night he was going 
to tell  Scully he loved her. He would give up everything for her, he would even stop 
chasing aliens and get a house with babies if  that was what Dana wanted. He set down his 
drink. He was going to do it. It was time for the flat lady to sing!

* * * * * * * 

Scully entered the ballroom and the sight of all the people took her breath away. It was a 
better turnaround than she had  expected. Everyone was wearing a costume, most of them 
quite creative. She enjoyed seeing her co-workers dressed up  as cartoon characters, movie 
stars and supper heroes. 

As she scrolled through the room, she admired the decorations. She loved the desert oasis 
theme. It was perfect for her  costume. What luck! The room was dimly lit, and it made the 
ambivilance in the room mysterious yet inviting. 

Scully's eyes went around the room looking for the only man she wanted to see tonight: 
Mulder. But through the thongs of  people, she couldn't see him. Then, suddenly, he was 
there, across the room from her, standing by himself. 

Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes swept over him like a big broom. He was a god. 
The barge boy's costume fit  his lanky form like a glove, what little there was of it. The 
pleaded skirt was short enough to show off most of his long,  lean runner's legs. His 
tanned chest was bare, shining like a new penny, only without Abraham Lincoln on it. 

Scully took a step forward, then another, her heart pounding in her chest. Mulder, her 
Mulder, more precious to her  than King Tut's treasures. She moved across the floor, step 
after organizing step, but she stopped when a green thing  flew in front of her. It was 
Kimberly! She looked like a Santa's helper, a very intoxicated one.

"Agent Scully, I love the costume!" Kimberly screamed. 

"Thank you," she said demurly. "And your costume is lovely. An elf?" 

"No, silly! I'm a wood nympho!!" Kimberly swatted at Scully like a fly. "Actually, I'm a 
musical one. See, here's my liar  and loot." She shoved her instruments into Scully's face.

"Nice touch," Scully added with non chalice as she stepped around Kimberly. 

Once again, Mulder was in her sites. She moved forward, each step taking forever, as if 
she was in locomotion. She got a  few steps closer but a hand grabbed her from behind and 
spun her around. It was Skinner!

"Good evening, Agent Scully." His eyes racked her. "Your costume is befitting a 
goddess."

"Thank you, sir," she said with a tap of her head. "You look like quite the mischevious 
scallion yourself. Are you  supposed to be Bluebeard?" 

"No, I'm Long John Silver, the salvage pirate of the Seven Seas." 

Skinner growled and drew out his sword, slicing at the air as if he was fighting an 
imaginary adversity. Scully was  impressed at how well the assitant director could wield 
his long weapon. 

Scully looked around again for Mulder. She couldn't see him now. She did see Kimberly, 
though, who had her arms around  Spender, who was dressed like Flush Gordon. It was 
so pathetic, seeing Kimberly hanging all over him like a cheap suite.

"Have you seen the buffet table?" Skinner asked as his put his shaft back in his pants.

"No, sir. I'm not hungary."

"Oh, but you must see it, Agent Scully. It's an impressive spread. The petty fours and 
nonparallels are to die for!"

Scully desperately searched the crowd for Mulder. He was nowhere to be found. Injected, 
she slumped her shoulders and  followed Skinner to the table. 

* * * * * * * 

Mulder felt himself being rutted on the spot like a big oak tree. Skinner had swept aside 
him and carted Scully onto the  buffet table to eat. His heart sunk to the bottom of his 
leather sandals faster than the Titanic went down into the icy  Atlanta Ocean, except there 
wasnąt an annoying Celine Dion song playing in the background. Why was Scully ignoring  
him? For a brief monument, Scully had locked her eyes with him. Then, she took 
Skinner's arm and turned away. Her  actions provided she didn't love him. Fox Mulder 
was deeply hurt and insulated. 

Standing alone on the bar, he ordered another drink. He drank it woefully while licking his 
wounds. Suddenly, without  any previous notice, he saw an annoying green flutter out of 
the coroner of his eye. Before he could retract, one of  Satan's little helpers had adhered 
herself to him. It was Kimberley, Skinner's secretary dressed up in an elk costume. 

Kimberly goggled girlishly and flushed her big blue eyes at him. "Mulder, fancy meeting 
you here. Alone and half-naked.  Am I dreaming?"

Mutated with grief, Mulder ignored her.

Kimberly grabbed Mulder's ancient looking staff. "Let's put this to good use." She polled 
him onto the dance floor where  they were playing a slow song. Kimberly pressured her 
body against his, fitting the tip of her head into the crock of his  arm. She had left her fruit 
and lair back at the bar.  As the lyrics of the Savage Gardener song revolved throughout the  
ballroom, Mulder couldn't help but think of Scully.

"A new beginning  A reason for living  A deeper meaning still  I want to stand with you in 
a mountain  I want to bath with you by the sea  I want to lie like this forever  Until the sky 
fills down on me."

Mulder knew how the guy singing the song felt. He felt the exact same way!  He wanted to 
take baths with Scully in the  ocean of his love.  He wanted to touch her and kiss her and 
lunge around afterwards basting in the glow of their shared  union. Unshed tears gathered 
around his lids like tiny tide pools collected on the shore during peak season. He shook his  
head. When the X-Files had burned to the ground, only Scully had given him hope. She 
always managed to pull him back  from the deep dark abscess that threatened to 
consummate his life. And yet their love was never meant to be just like the  way you could 
never get oil and vinegar to mix together in the dressing bottle and stay that way.

"And when the stars are shining brightly in the velvet sky, I'll make a wash send it to 
heaven then make you want to cry" 

The tears ran down his face like wet raindrops on the windshield of a moving car. The 
music continued to play and he felt  Kimberly brushing herself all over him. Gently, he 
stepped away.

"Is something wrong Mulder?" Kimberly acted agitated like when the load is unbalanced in 
the washing machine.

Mulder felt bad. He didn't want to hurt Kimberly, but he wanted Scully. Only Scully. He 
opened his mouth to convoy these  feelings to her when a loud scream stopped him. He 
heard the clattering of feet on sand as several people rushed for the  doors on the inferior 
side of the building. Mulder grabbed the arm of the Special Force Task Director, Ben 
Dover who  was dressed up like a cowboy and running for the exit. "Ben, what's going 
on?"

"Terrorists have kidnapped the president! And they took two FBI agents as added 
precaution!" Ben panted.

"What?" Mulder scoured the room. Where was Scully? She was nowhere to be seen! His 
heart beat faster. Terrorists had  kidnapped the president. Two agents had been taken 
hostage and Skinner and Scully were nowhere around! Oh no! Had they  fallen victim to 
unforeseen circumcisions? Had the terrorists taken them hostage? He raced the door to find 
out.

* * * * * * * 

When Skinner and Scully arrived at the buffet table, they saw the President standing there 
talking to a pretty blonde  woman dressed as Marilyn Monroe. The woman waived, and 
Scully waived back, but she realized the waive was not for  her. It was for Skinner.

"Anna, how are you?" Skinner said to the woman as he embarked her in a big hug. "It's 
been ages."

"Yes it has, Walter," she returned. 

Skinner motioned to Scully. "Anna, this is one of my best agents, Dana Scully. Dana, this 
is Anna Reckshyn. Anna here is  one of the best assistant directors the Bureau of Alcohol, 
Tobacco and Forearms has to offer. She and I went through the  academy together."

Scully smiled pollutely and shook Anna's hand. She noticed the look that passed through 
Anna and Skinner and deducted  that they had been closer than just friends. It was a look 
that was similar to the one she and Mulder had exchanged  earlier in the evening. A look of 
longing, a look of unrequitted love. 

Scully exchanged peasantries with the President, and they all stood around and talked for a 
while. Scully fainted interest  in the conversation but she didn't care what was being said. 
She didn't want to talk to the President. She wanted to talk to  Mulder!

Her mind floated back to when she saw her partner in his barge boy costume. It was like 
she was seeing a mirage, even  though you don't really see mirages because they're all a 
filament of your imagination. But she knew she saw him, so he  wasn't a mirage. He was 
real. He was real and sexy. Where was he? 

Skinner asked if anyone wanted anything to drink. Scully inclined, but the others said yes. 
Skinner left to hit the bar.  She politely excused herself, saying she wanted to get a plate of 
food. As she walked along the table, her eyes scanned the  room like a big laser. There 
were so many people there, and the room wasn't lit very well, but Scully had good eyes. 
She  ate her carats when she was younger, just like her mom said to, and she could see 
really well in the dark. She had her  cites set on Mulder and if he was in the room, she 
would see him.

And then she saw him. But he was wearing a green coat now. She moved closer and saw 
the green wasn't a coat. It was  Kimberly! Hanging all over him! 

"So that's how it was, huh Mulder? You want that little green slat instead of me? That's 
just fine with me, *partner.*"  Scully said all of that out loud, but no one heard her. It was 
okay because the tears running down her cheeks betrayed  what her real feelings were. Her 
heart dropped into her stomach and she felt week with grief.

With her head hanging on her chest, Scully decided to leave the party. There was nothing 
here for her. She had gotten all  dressed up, hoping Mulder would notice her, but the only 
thing he noticed was a stupid green nympho with long legs and  griping hands. 

She signed heavily and walked toward the main exit. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw 
a man dressed as the Loan  Ranger approach her.

"Agent Scully," he said in a quiet voice, "A.D. Skinner would like to see you outside. On 
the balcony."

That's odd, Scully thought. Why would Skinner want to see her on the balcony? She 
shugged and then hurried toward the  balcony door. She opened it and stepped outside. 
The night was clear and mild, with a slight wind out of the northeast. The  stars were 
tinkling bright. It was such a beautiful sky, almost as beautiful as looking into Mulder's  
hazel-green-gold-brown eyes.

She shook off the image and looked around, but she didn't see Skinner. 

"Sir, where are you?" She went to the edge and still didn't see anyone. 

Then suddenly she was attached from behind! A hand enclosed over her mouth. A rag was 
placed over her nose Scully took  a wiff and the tangy scent of cholorophyll filled her 
nostrils. 

"Mulder, help me," she mumbled against the rage at her mouth. And then she went black.

* * * * * * *

Mulder shoveled the door open and headed after Ben Dover. The cowboy was fast, even 
without a horse. It was hard for  him to keep up in his barge boy outfit because he wasn't 
used to running in a skirt. Plus, he had his ancient looking staff  in his hand and that 
slowed him down a little.  Untaunted, he ran and ran, winded at running so much until Ben 
stopped at  some doors and went in. Mulder followed but was snatched behind by forceful  
arms.

"Let me go! I want to know what's happened to Agent Scully!" Mulder fought against the 
unforeseen attacker, his voice  loud and protestant.

"Let him go," commandeered a sexy woman's voice.

Released, Mulder turned to see Ben Dover standing next to Marilyn Monroe. Except it 
wasn't really Marilyn Monroe  because she was dead. It was the Assistant Director from 
the ATM division, Anna Reckshun! Mulder knew all about her  performance in the field. 
Skinner was always telling him about Anna Reckshun. In fact, just the other day Skinner 
had  told Mulder if he had Anna Reckshun in his office, he would get a lot more done Was 
she heading the case? Maybe he could  offer a hand!

"I'm sorry, Agent Mulder to break the bad news." Anna Ryckshun stared at him, long and 
hard. "We believe Agent Scully  has fallen pray to a small group of right wring terrorists. It 
is all part of Sodom Hooseine's plan to obtain world  denomination. Do you have any 
information that might help this case?" 

Mulder thought hard. He and Scully had a special confection. They knew each other so 
well. They had worked many cases  together, been through many parallels and coveted 
each other's asses when the bad guys shot at them.  They were like the  Hardy Boys, only 
one of them was a girl.

Without warming, his knees bucked under him. He felt a familiar sensation take hold of 
him. Weakness settled over him  like a furry quilt. Giving into the felling, he let it rash over 
him with welcome arms. He sank to his knees, keeping his  skirt tucked underneath him as 
not to explore himself in front of everybody.

"Are you OK, Agent Mulder?" Ben Dover hovered above him. 

The darkness came crushing over Mulder. He couldn't breath. He couldn't see. He 
couldn't move. It was like being in a  comma, only he hadn't got hit on the head or retained 
any injuries. In the darkness he herd whispering voices and saw  things. Mulder had an 
usual gift, a gift he used on special occasions, where he could see and hear what was 
happening to a  victim. It was like getting free cable inside his head.

"Scully has a rug in her mouth....... She is straggling. Her hands are tied...... They have 
the present there, too! They are  in a large white truck. Diving fast On the side of the tuck I 
see...... I see the words..... Pizza Devilry."

Mulder slumped further to the ground, his emotional tide spent. He coughed and gagged, 
feeling his gorge rise up. Ben  Dover was behind him. Anna Ryckshun was between his 
legs. They helped roll him over as he open his moth. Mulder  puked until the contents of 
his stomach were vacated. No one was armed by these actions. It had been a regular  
concurrence ever since Mulder worked that case in Oklahoma where the killer set fires and 
wrote pottery.

"We have to get to Scully." Mulder stood up quickly, the blood wafting back to his head 
and making him dizzy. Anna  Ryckshun steadied him. "They plan on killing her first! We 
have to do something!"

Mulder's words distilled fear in all the agent's hearts in the room. What if he was right? 
Spooky Mulder had proved it in  the past. He had a reputation to go along with his name, 
he hadn't just gotten it by an accident. If Mulder was right and  Scully was in danger of 
dying, they needed to be reinforced by other agents. They needed more manpower and it 
was OK if  the manpower was actually women. Ben Dover scrambled to grab his cell 
phone and call in the cavity. 

* * * * * * * 

Scully awakened in darkness. Her head was throbbing, and there was a humming noise 
under her ear. She razed her head  and sharp pains sliced through her brain like knaves 
slice through hot butter. Her head hurt so bad she was sure she had  a percussion. She sat 
up in a sitting position and realized that the humming sound was the sound of the open 
rode. They  were moving! Whatever kind of vehicle they had her in, it was big. 

And dark. 

And it smelled like pepperoni.

Mulder loves pepperoni, she thought sadly. Pepperoni and extra cheese. He always ate 
things that were bad for him, and  she always ate salads and yogurt and healthy stuff, but 
she wouldn't admit to him that she loved watching him eat, even if  he was eating 
something that would clock his arteries. 

Forcing herself to kick herself into agent mold, Scully dropped her mind of Mulder and 
pepperoni. 

"What's the first thing they taut you at the Academy, Dana," Scully's mind asked her.

"Excess the situation," Scully answered.

She did a mental checkpoint of what she knew so far: She was at the multi-agency costume 
ball. She saw Mulder but he  baled on her, which hurt her badly. She was talking to 
Skinner, the President and Anna Reckshyn. They all split up and  Scully lost sight of the 
others. She saw Mulder with Kimberly draped over him like a fur coat, which hurt her 
even  more badly. Then the Loan Ranger said Skinner wanted her on the balcony. She 
went outside to find Skinner, and then...

"I've been abdicated!" She yelped.

"We all have," came a familiar voice.

"Sir," Scully said to her assistant director. "Do you know where we are?" 

"Not yet. Crawl toward me, Scully. I'm not able to move very well." 

Scully immediately jumped into doctor mold. Her eyes had adjudicated to the darkness and 
she could make out Skinner's  shadowy form. She got down on all fores and found him.

"Where are you hurt?"

"My leg. I think it's my tabuli."

Scully felt up Skinner, and he tensed under her when her hand encased his lower leg.

"Do you think you can put any wait on it?"

"I will if I have to, Agent Scully."

Scully admired her bosses strength. He was the most poised and solid man she knew, and 
he was always there for her and  Mulder, like a father figurine. He was a rack.

"Sir, where's the President?!"

"I don't know. He's not back here with us. Maybe they have him in a different vocation."

"We have to find him!"

"We will, but first we have to escapade," Skinner said firmly. "And I have a plan!"  

* * * * * * * 

Anna Reckshun stood rigid in the middle of the parking lot, posed and ready for action. 
One by one the enforced agents  poured into the uncover vans as they prepared for their 
rayed on the headquarters of the anti-terrorists.  With any  luck, they would find Agent 
Scully or AD Skinner.

Watching the fury of activity, Anna's moral dropped a little. Skinner. She said his name in 
her head, rolling it on her  tongue like liquid butter, hot and warm, but not too hot because 
it would burn the roof of your mouth. She had met  Skinner during Police Academy, and 
they had had a steaming affair.  But their assignments had sent them to differing  parts of 
the United Sates and their love had had evaporated over time just like the giant ice glazer 
that once coated the  world back in the pre-hysteric age.

She watched Mulder hang at the end of the line. Upon first meeting Mulder fifteen minutes 
ago, she had made her  reservations. She had heard Mulder was a good agent, but that he 
had a loose canon. After the spell where he saw and  heard things, she revisited her 
opinion. After seeing him in traction she had no alternative but trust him explicitly.  Several 
technical agents rushed by with their electronic devices that would be used later and she  
shook her head to clear out the thoughts. It was almost time. She steadied herself and put 
all the memoirs of Skinner and  what they had meant to each other in the back of her head.

"Mulder! Let's go!" She strode over to the van and got in. 

Mulder followed behind like a well heeled puppy and jumped into the van behind her.

The van took off and everybody inside starting putting on clothes. Anna grabbed a bullet 
poof vest and snapped it on.  Mulder did the same. Anna got her gun unhinged and ready 
for action. Mulder did the same. Anna took a couple of deep  breathes, getting her psychic 
ready too. Mulder did the same.

The agent driving the van was used to going really fast because he raced cars on the 
weekend. So they got to the center of  the DC area in record time but without violating any 
traffic. As they neared a group of banded warehouses, the agents got  really quiet. Most of 
them had been trained in hand-to-hand combat before. They knew to use the darkness to 
stay  camoflogged so that the bad guys didn't have foresight into their arrival.

Hand resting on the door, Mulder felt his gorge dancing in his throat. This isn't the time! 
He told himself sternly, only  not out loud. Everybody already thought he was crazy, he 
didn't need to go proofing it every five minutes. Headless to his  pleas to ward off the 
attack, Mulder felt the voices ring in his ear and the pictures flash through his field of  
visibility.

"Uh.....Uh.....Anchovies.......Double cheese......" Mulder jerked on the floor like a hand 
puppet gone bad. "Two-for-one  Tuesdays.....PEPPERONI!!!!" 

Possessed by his interior demons, Mulder dashed to his feet, broke free from the van and 
started running toward the old  building, his gun down in front of him.

* * * * * * * 

Scully felt the van come to a stuttering halt. The sudden stop threw her against Skinner and 
she landed on his lap. Though  it had been a long time since she'd been on a man's lap, it 
wasn't the lap she wanted. So she scribbaged away from him,  always maintaining her 
strict professionalism.

"Are you sure about this plan, sir?"

"Positive," Skinner said competently. "You just do it like we rehearsed and it will work."

Scully heard the jiggling of car keys and she took her place at Skinner's side. This has to 
work, she said as concern  flooded her body like water when she took nice, warm bubble 
bath. Only this feeling wasn't nice and warm and there  weren't any bubbles.

The back door of the van opened and their captivators stood before them. One of them was 
Krychek!!

"Krycheck, you bastard!!" Scully hissed.

"I'll kill you first Scully!" Krycheck screamed back. 

Skinner's hand clomped around her arm, and she pulled herself back into agent mold. Then 
Skinner moaned loudly and  squirted around like a worm. Scully knew that was her cue!

"This man needs to get to a hospital!" she acclaimed to Krycheck. 

"Yeah, right," was the rat bastard's response. "He's just faking it!" 

"No he's not! He has coitus. If we don't rush him to a hospital, his colon could bust! He 
could die!!"

Krycheck looked at the other man and they telephonically communicated, reading each 
other's mind. She could be telling  the truth. Or she could be lying and it could be a track.

"OK," Krycheck finally said. "We have a doctor inside the building. He'll be able to tell us 
if your faking it or not. But if  you are faking it, I'll kill you both myself!"

Krychek reached in to take Scully's arm, but she landed a karioke chop to his stomach. She 
followed up with a kick to his  face. He doubled over in angora and fell to the ground. The 
other man raised his gun but Skinner was quicker and kicked  the man in the face, with his 
good leg. With both men down, Scully helped her boss out of the truck and they ampled 
away.

When they were a few feet away, Scully turned back to make sure they weren't being 
perused. The men were still  writing on the ground. She breathed a sign of relief and 
looked forward again. That's when she saw the most beautific  sight she had ever seen.

Mulder!!

* * * * * * * 

He swept across the parking lot with his gun drawn. Thankfully, his gorge had receded, 
but Mulder had visualized enough of a picture during his spill to know that the pizza van 
had driven to the loading ducks located at the back of the building. He had inherently run to 
the correct spot. Now he saw Scully, Skinner and Krcychek locked together in a deadly 
dance.

"FBI! Freeze or I'll kill you Krycheck."

Krycheck's head moved from left to right. All of his careful planes were going down the 
tub! Mulder would attest him, drag him off to jail and he would end up sharing a cell with a 
guy named Bubbah who read a lot of Gertrude Stein. It wasn't going to happen to him! He 
hated them kind of books about German women who practiced femininity. Krycheck 
thought quickly,  drawing on his natural tenacity toward evil. He lashed out, kicked 
Skinner square on the grain and grabbed Scully by her hare. He was careful to use his reel 
arm and not the artificial one because he got a better grip that way.

"I'll kill her Mulder." Krycheck pulled out a big knife from the back of the van that was 
used to slice up pizza toppings. It was big and shiny and Krycheck waived it near Scully's 
aortal vein to show he meant business. "You know I'll do it."

Mulder stepped up short. Krycheck was a crazy rat bastard. In his heart he knew Krycheck 
would kill Scully to escape. And if Scully died, Mulder would die of a broken heart. He 
loved her that much. What could he do to safe the day? Skinner was lying on the ground in 
a prawn position, gasping and moaning for breath. The situation looked helpless!

"You'll never get out of this alive Krycheck," Mulder put as much warning in his voice as 
the situation mustard. "The place is crawling with FBI agents.  It's just a matter of time."

"If I go down," Krycheck bent Scully's head back, "then Scully goes down too!" He slid 
the knife against her throat.

Mulder raised his gun, readying to shoot when all of a sudden Krycheck was lying on the 
ground, cupping his good shoulder with his fake arm, blood sporting all over the place. 
Mulder turned and spotted Anna Reckshun. Her gun was pointed at Kryshcheck, still 
smoking. Skinner jumped up, took off his pirate bandanna and tied up Krychek's hands. 
Once Krycheck was rendered submitted, Skinner ran over and grabbed Anna Reckshun 
with both hands.

"Walter? Are you OK?" Anna gasped, closing her eyes in relief and dropping the gun to the 
ground.

"Anna? Is it really you?" Skinner whispered.

As they glazed into each other's eyes, Mulder took Scully's arms and walked them to a 
more private spot.

"Are you OK Scully?" Deep concerned trembled in his voice as he searched her face.

"I'm fine Mulder." Scully gave him a shy look, casting her eyes to the ground. She was 
afraid that Mulder would see into her heart and realize how deep and wonton her desires 
were.

"Why did you ignore me at the party, Scully? Why?" Mulder let all of his hurt and pain 
show on his face.

"I don't know," Scully mumbled shuffling her feet on the cement. "I guess I saw you with 
Kimberly and I got jealous."

Mulder's brow burrowed and his forehead creased. "Kimberly?"

"She was all over you like a cheap suite, Mulder."

Mulder chucked. "Scully, she means nothing to me. If you had kept watching, you would 
have seen that I brushed her off as fast as I could. I don't want her." He moved closer so 
that his mouth was a hare's breath away from hers. "I want you, Scully. Only you."

Scully's breath hatched in her throat. Did he just say what she thought he said? Tears filled 
her eyes, unbitten.

"I love you, Dana. I always have. Ever since our first case in Oregano."

"That long?" she enquired.

He capped her face with his hands. "That long. I've been hiding it because I didn't think 
you felt the same way."

Emotion overwhelmed her and she threw her arms around Fox Mulder. She was going to 
tell him that she loved him too, but out of the corner of her eyes she saw two people 
approaching. It was Skinner, and he was leaning on Anna Reckshun for support. Mulder 
and Scully separated faster than oil and vinegar in Italian salad dressing.

"Agent Scully, are you alright?" Anna Reckshyn touched the dried blood on Scully's 
forehead.

"Yes, I'm fine. But Assistant Director Skinner is in need of medical attention. His leg may 
be broken." 

"The ambulance should be here in a few minutes," Anna Reckshyn replied. "I'll stay with 
him and make sure he gets off okay. Why don't you go home, Agent Scully. You look like 
you could use some rest."

"Yes, thank you," Scully said politely, but rest was the last thing she had on her mind. She 
eyeballed her partner and the lopsided shirk on his face told her he was thinking the same 
she was.

They were going to have sex!!

* * * * * * * 

Mulder dove Scully home. It was late and the agent hadn't wanted to get her car from the 
FBI costume party. So Mulder proffered to take one of the riot vans and take her home. 
Mulder was nervous on the ride home, thinking maybe it was all a dream and he would 
wake up on his couch alone with Bigfoot playing in the background. As he neared her 
horse, he began to formula the idea that it was all for real and not some pigment of his 
imagination.  Scully loved him and they were going to have congenial sex!

Silently, they entered her apartment without saying a word. Scully quietly hung up her 
coat, at a loss for words. Mulder tailed behind, equally lost and muted. They were like two 
confused sale boats that didn't know which way the wind was blowing. For five years or 
so they had waited for this moment.

Scully cleared her throat nervously. "Do you want something to drink? I have some herbal 
tea. Camisole, I think. " She was trying to act causal as she walked to the kitchen, but she 
was shaking like a leaf on a tree during a hurricane, like that time when they went to 
Florida and met up with Arthur Fiedler.

Before she got too far Mulder caught her arm. "No, Scully. I'm not thirsty." Not for tea, 
he thought to himself as he pulled her closet. "There's no reason to be nervous. It's me. 
Mulder, your partner."

Scully hugged him and laughed in his shirt. Of course it was Mulder. She felt so safe in his 
arms, like an angle had folded its wings around her.

She looked up at him, studying him under her lashes. "I'm not nervous, Mulder..."

Mulder's hand went to her lips. "No. Call me Fox."

"Fox," she said, letting the word roll off her tounge. "I'm not nervous, Fox. Not with 
you."

Mulder bent down to meet her lips with his. Their lips fit together perfectly and there 
wasn't any awkwardness with noses or bad breath or anything because they had waited 
five or more years for this and they just knew everything would be perfect. The kiss 
deepened, their tongues swimming together like two sea otters froliking in the warm ocean 
currant.

Suddenly, without warning, they exploded upon each other in the same way a barbecue 
coal catches fire after you put a whole can of butane fluid on it.  They were hot with desire 
and passions as they tore off each other's costumes. Scully took care to place hers neatly 
on the couch because she didn't want to lose the deposit she had given the costume shop.

Mulder watched her as she smoothed out her costume, careful to make sure no creases got 
in it or she'd have to iron it before returning it. She was clad in only an emerald green satin 
bra with matching bimini panties. Her beauty took his breath away, like if someone had 
punched him in the stomach, only this was better because it didn't hurt.

When Scully turned around to face her lover, she was concerted by the look on his face. 
"What's wrong?"

Mulder shook his head. "You are even more beautiful than the Queen of the Nike herself, 
Dana."

She blushed and then hungrily eyed her partner, who was wearing black silk boxers, 
which were her favorite. "You're not looking too scabby yourself, Fox. Your barge boy 
costume was good, but this is even better!" 

He laughed and took her into his arms. He kissed her, long and hard, and his nimrod 
fingers undid the clasp on her bra. The silk flattered to the floor at their feet. He pulled back 
to take a good look at her.

Scully sucked in a breath. Would he find her desirable? She knew about his infinity for 
porn and she knew she didn't measure up to the video vixens he was used to watching on 
his VHF.

"So beautiful, Dana. So beautiful," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. He quickly 
deposed her of her matching green panties. His face lit up with a coniferous smile as his 
eyes took in the site of her.

Mulder motioned with his finger. "Come here, Dana. Come to me."

She tried to move but when she put one foot foreward, her knees bucked. She felt like her 
legs had become two wet noodles, the rounds ones like ziti, not linguini or spaghetti. Her 
entire body felt like she had lost all of her bones, only she knew she really hadn't lost her 
bones because you couldn't do that without dying. 

With a few words, spoken in that low, sexy, horse voice of his, Mulder had the ability to 
turn her into a limp pile of mussel and flesh. But Scully wasn't ready to let him know what 
he was doing to her. She didn't want him to know that he had the upper hands. She wanted 
him to be a limp pile too, and she wanted to be the one who made him that way!

She moved confidentially toward him, taking small excremental steps until she stood before 
him, naked and uninhabited.

"Fare is fare," she said coily as she fingered his boxers. "Let's see what's under these."

Mulder obligated her immediately, dropping trowel and tossing the black silk boxes across 
the room.

Scully sighed happily, liking what she saw. Fox Mulder was beautiful, like a marble 
statute. Her mouth watered and a sea of moisture urged down her body and pooled 
between her legs.

Taking her in his arms, Mulder nuzzled her ear. "So, shall I savage you here on your couch 
or in your bed?"

Scully's face widened with a wicket smile. "Neither. I have a better idea."

Surprise sketched itself all over Mulder's face and he clocked his head to one side. Scully 
wasn't acting like the Scully he had worked with all these years. Maybe her clothes call 
with death had bought out a new side of his partner. Well, he liked these new sides, 
especially the naked ones. They made him hot and blustery like a tropical storm.

Scully gently edged herself out of Mulder's surprised arms. Her legs were still weak but 
they didn't feel like pasta anymore. They felt more like the Jell-O her Aunt Sally made for 
the family unions with the little marshmallows and coconuts on the bottom. Sighing 
deeply, she willed her bones and flesh to get hard again and walked them over to the 
kitchen table.  Raising a well-shaped calf, she inched up on the top of the table and choked 
out an inverting smile.

"Scully?" Mulder's eyes goggled outside of his head as he multiplied two plus two. "The 
table?"

"Even better," she crooned in a sweet voice. As graceful as a lumber ballerina, she roped 
an arm around the chandelier. Scully was small but agile. Her bicuspids were especially 
strong since she had done a lot of pushovers at Quantico. She reached out her next arm and 
got a second gripe on the light fixture. Her upper body took her weight and Scully 
delicately balanced mast and gravity to hang distended in midair.

As Mulder watched in awe, his internal tropical storm upgraded itself to a full pledged 
hurricane.

Scully allowed her darkened eyes to run all over Mulder's body just the way she wanted 
her run her hands to run all over his body but couldn't because she was using them to hang 
onto the chandelier. She didn't want to ruin the night by falling and having to minister first 
aid on herself. She sighed.  Even from this height Mulder was a damned good looking 
man. His skin was tarnished a golden brown all over and his lean body moved with a 
primate urgency as he floated across the room toward her. 

Suddenly, without any warning, Scully felt a deep hunger raise inside herself. She was a 
starving woman and Fox Mulder was the dessert. From the looks of it a Snickers Bar. 
King Sized.

Mulder reached out and ran his hand down Scully's leg. She was so beautiful. And naked. 
And swining from a chandelier. Just for him. This was better than the Christmas that his 
mom and dad gave him the Presto Magic Kit so he could be like the guy from his favorite 
TV show, The Magistrate.

"Dana," he said, his voice rough like wallpaper. "I've always dreamed about this. You, 
me, crystal glassware. You have no idea."

Oh, but she did. She had thought about Mulder and her christmassing all of the furniture in 
her apartment: her bed, her couch, her chase lounge, her kitchen counter, even her antique 
amour.

"Fox! I need you!" she cried as she wiggled around, making the crystal tinkle above her.

Mulder knew that was his clue! He scrambled up on the table. With her hanging like she 
was, his mouth was flushing with her breasts. They were beautiful! Soft, round globs just 
waiting for his attention. Unable to recess temptation, he took a tawny peek inside his 
mouth.

Scully mooned her appreciation. She wanted to so badly to touch him, but her arms were 
holding her to the chandelier. So she locked her legs around his waste and pulled him 
closer.

"Dana," her mergered against her chest, "Dana are you sure?"

"Yes, Fox, I'm sure. I love you more than like itself. Please, we've waited five or six 
years for this. Don't make us wait any longer. Take me now!!"

Fox was filled with a sense of great expectations and interior longings. He was about to 
plumage Dana Scully! Right here, right now. He consorted his body, rearranging his limbs 
until he was underneath where Scully was swinging from. He was breathing hard and his 
face was flashed from the insertion of his efforts. 

"Oh, Fox," Dana groaned. "Hurry!"

He leaned back on the table, spread out like a bald eagle and grazed up her glistening 
thighs. They were white and creamy like two scoops of vanilla ice cream except they 
weren't round exactly, but more slender like a couple of Eskimo Pies without the crunchy 
chocolate coating. His eyes went up her body to the intersection of her legs were there 
grew a patch of red public hair.  It camouflagged the hidden pedals of her womanhood and 
he groaned out loud at the site. 

Dana Scully was beautiful. Gorgeous. His.

"I love you Dana!" He said with passionate tones.

"I can't wait any longer," Dana breathed in a husked voice. With a careful flip of her legs 
she dismounted the chandeleer and landed on Mulder like an Olympic gymnasium. Scully 
was small, but agile. That was why she could climb through small tunnels and save 
Mulder's ass every once in a while and still not get her pantsuits dirty. She kissed him 
hard, pressing her lips against his, parting them with surgical delicacy by using her tongue 
as an instrument of pleasure.

Mulder was trapped inside Hurricane Dana.

For once he was happy to be inside the aye of her storm. Usually when she threw her 
passion in his direction it was when she was muffed at him, but this time it was desire in 
her eyes instead of madness.

Mulder plundered into her, feeling the creamy interior, moist and hot and sweet like a 
Hostess cupcake left out in the sun. Her womanliness held him like a wet vice that 
squeezed him like a warm fist. He was so close he thought he would spontaneously 
compost.

"Harder, Fox! Harder!" Scully screamed at the tip of her lungs. Her things shaked from the 
pressure of moving up and down on Fox's steel loverod but she ignored the pane. She 
could feel the waive of her desire cresting around her, pushing her to the cuspid of 
oblivion. She had never had an organic experience before, but this was Mulder and with 
him it was different. It was just like one of those Clariol Herbal Essence commercials 
except her hair was a lot shorter and it wasn't wet.

"Dana! Dana, I can't hold back!" Mulder was seeing stars imploding all around him. It was 
like a Fourth of July fireworks show just for him, only there wasn't the loud booming 
noises or the screaming kids.

"Don't hold back," she breathed in his ear as she licked at his lob. "I am a desert and you 
are my oasis. Please, Fox! Fill me with your love!!"

So he did. And at the exact same moment, her organism gripped her and threw her out of 
her body, floating her to the ceiling to have her look down on herself and Fox as their 
bodies were racked with pleasure. It was the most incredulous sight she had ever seen.

Mulder collapsed onto her like a crumbling building. He tried to push himself up on his 
elbows but Scully held him close to her.

"But I'm crusing you," he said breathlessly.

"No you're not. Please stay."

So Mulder staid for a very long time. 

 THE END!

 ----We are not who we are . . .

Anubis

anubislm@aol.com