Chapter Text
1.
Mulder stands alone in the basement office. His heart beating at an ungodly pace as he reads the page before him. His state of being never less permanent; he shifts from confusion to shock, shock to horror, horror to heartbreak, heartbreak to white-hot-anger. The morphing bounty hunter has nothing on him.
“What the fuck?”. It is a rhetorical question. Less in the sense that he is alone in the basement and more in the sense that no explanation will alleviate the furious pit that has lodged itself in his abdomen. He slams his fist into the drywall beside him, pulling it back to reveal a bloody center knuckle.
He’ll kill him!
He’ll kill her!
Suddenly unsatisfied by the minimal damage to the wall, Mulder sweeps his arms across the desk, sending office supplies and a month’s worth of paperwork sailing to the floor. He kicks at the chair until it too topples with a crash.
“What the fuck?” he bellows again. Rhetorical or not, the silence echoing back magnifies the empty feeling in his chest. Grabbing his keys and the offending document from the floor, he slams the door closed on his way out.
A little over a week earlier, Mulder was under the impression that Scully somehow managed a narrow escape from a kidnapping attempt by a sadistic madman.
Upon her return, Mulder learned that rather than a heroic thwarting of evil, Scully’s time with said sadistic mad man was more of the voluntary variety. To say things had been tense since, was an extreme understatement.
Apparently, having located some of the common sense she misplaced the week prior, Scully was giving Mulder space by holding up at Quantico. He imagined her standing in the hallway with a sign that read “Will autopsy for asylum”.
When the fax from Wayne Memorial Hospital showed up, along with about 10 other items addressed to Scully, Mulder assumed it too was police report or autopsy finding that pertained to one of their cases. Imagine his surprise when he discovered instead, Rape Kit results for Ms. Dana Scully.
2.
Scully opens the office door and immediately grabs for her weapon. A quick survey confirms that whoever ransacked the place is no longer present. Distracted by the scene before her, she fails to recognize when Mulder enters the office behind her. “Decide to finally show your face, Scully?” His breath is hot against her ear.
“Jesus, Mulder! You scared me!” His chest is flush against her back forcing Scully to step forward so she can turn around and face him. He looks awful; red-rimmed eyes, a wrinkled suit, disheveled hair- If nothing else, the 5 o’clock shadow, making its’ appearance at 7 o’clock in the morning, is enough to raise alarms. He smells too- like sweat and bottom shelf whisky. It occurs to her that Mulder does not seem concerned with the state of their office.
“What happened here?”
“What do you mean? Nothing happened here. I did a little redecorating.”
“Did someone attack you? Mulder, your hand is bleeding! Tell me what is going on!”
He smirks as his eyes glide across her face, stopping at her lips for moments more than necessary. His voice dips an octave and follows the same pace as his eyes; slow and measured. “Is the band getting back together? Are we back to confiding in each other again? I’m sorry Scully, it's just too hard for me to keep up. Do we trust each other this week?"
He moves to close the gap she created moments before. He lowers his head, their noses almost touching. “Kiss it better, doc?”
Scully shoves his bloody knuckle away from where he holds it, in front of her face. “You’re drunk, Mulder”. She means for those to be her parting words, but Mulder’s stance has effectively blocked the door.
“Move!” she demands.
“Oh! Are you on your way out? You didn’t have another vacation planned with Smokey, didja?” He sneers at the hurt expression on her face.
She takes a deep breath and smooths down the front of her blazer.
“No, Mulder. I have an autopsy scheduled this morning. I just stopped by to grab my messages”. Her voice is steady and calm. Her attempts to placate him have achieved the opposite effect.
“Well, that explains the early hour of your visit. It’s so unlike you to be up before the sun, Scully. Tell me, did I authorize all this time you’ve been spending at Quantico? I can’t imagine I would, given your absence last week. You know, due to your family emergency.”
“Did you auth-”
“That’s right!” he interrupts. “You are a junior in this office. Lending your services to other departments would require senior agent approval. I know you know the rules and even more than that, I know you’re a good girl, Scully. You always follow the rules.”
He hasn’t budged from his place in front of the door. His jaw is beginning to clench between sentences and his eyes are now laser-focused on hers. “So, either I’ve forgotten about your request to blow off the x files for another week, or you went over my head. We both know Skinner has a soft spot for you.”
Scully’s response is hesitant. She empathizes, knowing firsthand the bitter taste of betrayal. As a means to dilute the tension, she has offered him his space. With her at Quantico, Mulder can dictate the extent of their interaction.
Her efforts at separation are not completely altruistic, however. Mulder’s tendency for self-pity and martyrdom are more than she cares to pacify, at the moment. He seems to forget how often the shoe has been on the other foot. Distance, as they say, makes the heart grow fonder.
Until this morning, she was even sure her approach was beginning to achieve its’ desired effect. He had even called her yesterday to compare notes on a case report he was writing up. Their exchange did not exceed professional, but it was not icy either. True, she is actively avoiding him this morning, but her motivations are more offense than defense.
“I didn’t go over your head, Mulder. I can arrange to be back here this afternoon. I guess I didn’t realize...” She trails off, not knowing what he wants to hear. She is being cautious, and her trepidation thrills him. Not one to often get off her high horse, this crack in Scully’s meticulous armor is enough to spur him on.
“Gee that sounds swell, Dana. Listen, before you go, let me draw you a map. I’d hate for you to take a wrong turn and end up back in Pennsylvania. We both know your track record there, and if we are not careful, you are liable end up writhing, naked under some psychopath before lunch”.
Like a rubber band, Scully’s steely resolve snaps back into place. Her right palm meets the left side of his face with a surprising amount of force. Having rendered Mulder sufficiently stunned, she slips around him and makes for the exit.
3.
For a brief moment, Mulder considers if he has gone too far. As quickly as that thought enters his mind though, so do the implications of Scully’s omission. Nay, omissions –with an S, as there have been several. If this case went to trial, the evidence would be cataloged exhibits A through F.
A: Following her visit to Goochland, Virginia, Scully reported that she found nothing to suggest the boys’ lymphatic cancer remission was anything but a miracle.
B: Somewhere between Virginia and DC, Scully was approached by Spender and offered an exclusive on the boy’s condition.
C: Without securing any back-up, Scully paid a return visit to Spender at his office building.
D: Scully sequestered a bureau fleet sedan for the express purpose of a road trip with CSM.
E: For about 250 miles, Scully sat within inches of their sworn enemy.
F: On the way home from her suicidal excursion, the prodigal daughter made a pit-stop at a local hospital, where forensic data was collected from her body. Data meant to indicate if she had been raped.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury”, Mulder would plead, “given facts that have been presented here today, there is but one verdict available to you. In the case of Scully vs Mulder’s broken heart, you must find the defendant guilty of treason. Throw the book at her!”
It’s worth noting, had the kit returned confirmation of assault, Mulder would have swallowed the rage that is currently being aimed at Scully- at least for the time being. But as it is, there were no traces of foreign DNA, latex, or evidence of forced penetration found on her person...And she hadn’t thought it worth a fucking mention.
4.
Rubbing his hand across his jaw, Mulder smarts at the stinging sensation that lingers on his cheek. Did he deserve that slap? Yes. But he remains convinced that Scully deserves the insult that prompted it. Not one to be deterred from a mission, Mulder considers his next move. There are other fish to fry and where Scully is a guppy, CSM is the white whale. Sure, Scully had been an accessory, but the man that pulled the proverbial trigger is still at large. So, while Scully perfects the art of avoidance, Mulder allows his focus shift.
It won’t be as straight forward as waiting for his partner to show up at work. Spenders’ trail is always cold. However, Mulder has made a career out of showing up where he’s not wanted. What’s more, he has the Gunmen: his very own bloodhounds.
“Frohike, I need you to get me a home address for Spender." After a moment, Mulder pulls his phone away from his face to confirm the call has not been dropped.
“Frohike, you there?”
“I'm here”, Frohike sighs. “What is this about?”
“I miss the guy. Can't I just miss the guy?”
“Am I gonna have to come up with bail money?”
“Of course not, that's what Byers is for. Just call me back when you have the address.”
In the time it takes Mulder to get from his office to the parking garage, where he had left his car the night prior, Frohike comes through.
5.
Mulder is happy to discover that 'Chateau-Sadistic Madman' is not an inconvenient distance from the Hoover building. Once inside the devil’s lair, he steals a glance at the name listed on the mailbox for Spenders unit: Gerald Moss. The man has no shortage of aliases and Mulder doubts this name is anything but. Still, he files it away for future reference.
After a cursory casing of entry and exit points, Mulder resigns himself to simply knock. When a large gorilla of a man answers the door, he considers if Frohike may have given him the wrong address. That is, until would-be-Gerald punches him in the face and drags him, feet-first, into the apartment.
“Fox”, Spender’s voice floats from somewhere behind the gorilla, “I expected you sooner. I'm afraid you’ve caught me on my way out.”
Now sitting upright, but still perched on the floor, Mulder swipes at the blood that has collected on his upper lip.
“You don't stay put for too long, do you? Let me help you pack. I hear Hell is lovely, this time of year.”
“Is that why you’re here - to trade witty barbs? Or are you looking for travel tips? I’d say my best suggestion is simple; If you can help it, always travel with a beautiful companion”
“Was that what you wanted with Scully: Eye-candy and access to the carpool lane?”
“I'm appalled that you would reduce Dana to her aesthetic. Only and absolute fool could spend time with her and limit their sense gratification to sight. There is so much more to be enjoyed. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Mulder’s stomach turns at the unrelenting prospect.
“Did you touch her?” His voice is low but suddenly sheer panic outweighs his desire to appear in control. “DID YOU TOUCH HER?” he screams.
Spender’s smile widens. Of course he had touched her. He isn’t dead! One doesn't experience Dana Scully, unconscious and unclothed, and not enjoy oneself (again).
“Fox, you are acting like a spoiled child, and I happen to know that your father raised you to share your toys”. Mulder shoots to his feet and lunges for Spender, but Mr. Gorilla stops him from advancing.
“Cut the shit, old man! I want answers!”
“Dana came with me, of her own accord. I resent the implication that she was an unwilling passenger.” The two men stand in silence for a moment.
“You know” Spender continues, “in college she dated a TA for several semesters. In med school there was a professor. At the FBI academy- an instructor. Your partner has a type. She doesn’t always want to be respected, Fox.”
“You think you know her? You know nothing about Scully. And you’re old enough to be her father, for fucks sake!"
“Like I said, Dana has a type.”
Mulder bristles further, “Your infatuation is showing, Spender. If you’re not careful I might have to add ‘pathetic’ to the list of unfortunate adjectives I use to describe you.”
After another short pause, Spender speaks. “She is an amazing woman. She has a brilliant mind, an uncompromising passion, and as you pointed out, she is beautiful. Painfully, so. I don’t blame you for this campaign of possession that you are clearly on. Any man would be lucky to own her.”
“I don’t want to own Scully”, Mulder lies. “I want to protect her. I want you to leave her alone. I mean it. From here on out, stay away from her!”
“Mr. Mulder, as much as I enjoy these little meetings with you, this one is growing tiresome. And, as I mentioned, you caught me on my way out.”
“What happened to the disc you promised her?”
Spender lets out a short chuckle. “You can’t be serious! That’s not a question you need to ask, Fox. You are not so naive. That’s Dana Scully’s question. You know full well what happened to that disc. She'd know too, if she could be honest with herself. We both know that's not her strong suite, though.”
“She said she mailed me some tapes.” The words rush from Mulder’s mouth before he can stop them. “I need to know, were there tapes?” He is ashamed to ask but the question has already begun to haunt him.
With condescending tone, Spender replies, “Doubting your partner? That can't be a good sign. It appears the dynamic duo could use a team-building seminar. Perhaps I’ll mention that to Walter.”
With that, Spender and his 300 lbs. of muscle leave. Finally taking in his surroundings, Mulder notes the luxury apartment is completely empty. Not a single piece of furniture or personal belonging. Another lie.
6.
Taking a page from Scully’s book, Mulder elects to avoid the office for the rest of the day. He knows the inevitability of an unpleasant scene erupting between he and Scully and the FBI is not the ideal location for part two of their confrontation. Furthermore, since he has essentially strong-armed Scully into abandoning any afternoon autopsies, in favor of getting back to the X files, blowing her off is the least he can do.
Moths ago, kicking in Scully’s door was a no-brainer. Pfaster was most certainly inside, and his heart broke at the prospect that he was too late. Tonight, that demonstration of brute force means that her locks had been replaced, and he no longer has a key. This only occurs to him as he climbs the stairs to her floor. More out of curiosity than expectation, Mulder tries the knob ahead of banging on her door. To his surprise, it opens.
“Scully?”
The front of the apartment is dark, but her car parked in its’ usual spot, and the sound of running water, indicate that Scully is home. As he makes his way down her hallway, he notes a hint of light filtering from beneath the bathroom door. His legendary investigative skills allow him to further deduce that the running water, now coupled with the sounds of Scully’s pitchy hum, means that his favorite troublemaker is taking a shower.
Mulder pushes the bathroom door open just enough to fit through it. Scully continues to hum, unaware of his presence. He inches his way forward until he is able to take advantage of the gap between the shower curtain and the wall. His breath catches in his throat. Water streams down her back and over the curve of her incredible ass. While flattering, her pencil skirts are nothing to her bare form. Her body turns slightly as she brings her hands up to her hair. His cock twitches at the view of her profile – muscular thigh, flat stomach, perfect tit. He leans back against the sink, gripping the porcelain. But all too soon, desire is bleeding back to anger. Once again, her carelessness could have compromised her. What if he had been someone else?
“Are you fucking kidding me, Scully?”
“Oh my god!”, Scully screams. She instinctively clutches the shower curtain to her body and steadies herself against the tile wall. “Muld-ah! Oh my god. What are you ...” She is panting through her words, unable to catch her breath.
“You left your door unlocked. What the hell is wrong with you, Scully? Do you have a death wish?”
She stares at him, open-mouthed, trying to process why and how Mulder is in her bathroom. He grabs for the white, silk robe that hangs on the back of the door, shoving it in her direction.
“Get the fuck out of the shower. Now!”
Scully blinks slowly, processing his demand. As she regains her ability to form complete sentences, she takes another stab at the question she attempted to pose moments ago. “Mulder, what are you doing here?”
“Get the fuck out of the shower or so help me, I will come get you out, myself!”
Turning off the water, Scully reaches for the robe. When she steps into view, the white silk is secure around her tight, little body.
“I'm not sure that's the worst idea you’ve ever had. You could use a shower”, Scully mutters.
He closes the small distance between them. “Don't be mean, Scully. It’s been a long day.” As his eyes pan down, Mulder notes the way her nipples jut out against the thin material. The silk clings to her where it is forced to absorb the water that drips from her hair.
7.
In an effort to save them both from embarrassment, Scully pretends not to notice how Mulder is leering at her.
“Are you going to tell me what you are doing here, or do I have to guess?”
His eyes fix on her mouth, “why don’t you wipe that pretty little pout off your face and guess.”
“I’ll admit I’m at a loss here, Mulder. I know you are angry with and I’m not suggesting you shouldn’t be. But I thought we were working to move on. Yesterday afternoon we even collaborated on the Maleeni report for Skinner. Cut to this morning, when you refused to tell me what happened to our office and by this afternoon you blatantly ditched me.”
“Oh, Scully. How can you get it so wrong? You’re usually so carful. My Scully doesn’t put herself in harm’s way or intentionally mislead me.” His eyes dark, his jaw tight. He continues, “She doesn’t forget to lock her door, and she certainly does not say the worst possible thing at the worst possible time. I DITCHED YOU?”
“Alright, Mulder! I get it! I get that you are mad. I even understand it. But this is something I had to do. It was a lead I had to follow. For the work. The potential reward outweighed the risk. And I’m sorry Mulder, but I would do it again.” Her voice pleading. Her eyes begging him to understand. Those pleas fall on deaf ears.
“For someone who went out of her way to find fault with every word Diana said, you sure do sound a lot like her right now. At least she fucked me, after she fucked me. Ya know?”
For the second time that day, Scully swings at Mulder. This time, he catches her wrist before she connects.
“It’s interesting you mention Diana, Mulder. I can’t recall a single time you treated her with this level of distain, despite her many indiscretions.”
“I guess I held you to a higher standard, Scully. My mistake.”
8.
His grip remains tight around Scully’s wrist. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Mulder. I am. I wish I could take back the worry I caused. I wish the tapes got to you.” She keeps her eyes on the floor, “I’m sorry. I don't know what else I can say or do.”
He stalks out of the bathroom, pulling her behind him. He stops in front of her bed, turns and sits. Positioning her to stand between his legs, he looks up at her. She is pretty. So God-damn pretty. Does she know? Does she realize she has ruined every other woman for him?
“Show me, Scully”, he breaths. “Show me how sorry you are.”
“Muld-” Her breath hitches as he pulls at the sash of her bathrobe.
“Beg me to forgive you. Tell me you belong to me and that you’ll never put yourself in jeopardy again.”
The silk hangs loosely at her sides. She is almost completely exposed to him. It’s not enough. He wants more. He always wants more. Pushing the fabric from her shoulders, it pools at her feet. She harbors no modesty now, while he sits, fully clothed.
“My Scully.” He stares at her. Raking his eyes over every inch. “You know how many times I’ve pictured you since Antartica? While you sit at our desk, typing reports, in your skirts and your blazers, I picture these phenomenal pink nipples.”
His hands trail from her breasts to her waist. He then turns her around so that her ass is facing him. He places his thumbs in the apex of her thighs so that the back of each hand cradles a glute. He moves his hands back and forth, lewdly jiggling her round ass cheeks.
She is wet. His thumbs toy with her lips and she moans, “Mulderrr!”
He moves his hands back to her waist, then quickly bringing one palm down hard and fast against her. She sobs in surprise and attempts to turn around. He holds her in place with the offending hand and then repeats the action with his opposite- smack! Each cheek is marred with a red handprint.
He turns her to face him and pulls her onto his lap. She straddles him, gripping his shoulders for balance. As she adjusts her position, her left nipple grazes his lips. Instinctively, he latches on. She moans again, her nails digging into the back of his head.
After a few moments, he moves Scully back slightly, pushing her to sit on his knees, rather that kneel over his thighs.
Once they are eye to eye he begins, “Whatever justification you are allowing yourself, I want you to forget it.” His voice is raw but without the edge that had become all too familiar. “That risk-benefit analysis you performed is flawed. Dana, so help me God, if you ever even think about following him again...”
His voice cracks and Scully moves to swallow his anguish. Her mouth covers his and she begins to kiss him.
If it was up to Mulder, they would stay like this forever. But the basic need for oxygen forces them to separate. He traces his finger from her collarbone, down her sternum, over her bellybutton. He pauses for just a moment then continues his path to her center. He is memorizing the lines of her sex. In an instant he has baptized his curious digit, withdrawing just as quickly and then re-inserting, along with his middle finger.
“Please, Mulder. Please!”
“Fuck, Scully! You’re so fucking beautiful. I’ll never not see you like this. You know that, right? Every time I look at you, I’ll see you spread open and riding my hand.”
He pulls his fingers out of her and holds them in front of her face. “You see how hungry you are for me?”
Scully nods her head, unable to get the words out. Mulder wipes her arousal from his fingers onto her lips and chin. Then, against her nipples. “My dirty, dirty Scully.”
He lays her down on the bed, licking and sucking at the trail of moisture his fingers just left.
“You taste so good.” He moves down her body, sampling new flesh as his lips pass over her. Finally, his tongue reaches its’ intended destination.
Her entire body pulses for him. Blood courses through her veins, vibrating his name, Mul-der, Mul-der, Mul-der. Until she hears her own voice over the rhythmic hum of her organs, “Yes, Mulder! Please, don’t stop! Don’t ever stop!”
Mulder lets her finish. Though there is a moment he considers stopping, teasing her further into submission. In the end, he is too selfish to deprive himself the pleasure of watching her cum. He relishes in the spectacle he has reduced her to.
9.
Scully’s breathing begins to even out when Mulder moves to stand at the foot of the bed. He begins to undress. But for the moment he lifts his shirt over his head, Mulders eyes remain steadfastly fixed on Scully’s form.
“Did you enjoy that?”
“Yes, Mulder. I enjoyed that.” Her voice is raw from the screams of pleasure she emitted moments ago. She sits up, taking his hands in hers, she pulls him onto the bed, and in between her knees. He is above her when her legs lock around his waist. In a single motion, he flips onto his back, so that she now straddles him. He places his hands against her breasts, palming them roughly while she guides him inside of her.
She gasps at the sensation of him stretching her.
“Holy shit!”, Mulder cries, bucking into her. His hands move to her hips. He is desperate to regain some control. “Good, Scully. Take it. Good girl.”
He is fully inside of her, “Give me a minute, Mulder. I just need a minute.”
It takes everything in Mulder not to thrust up into her again. She begins to move over him. Her pace is slow and sensual. He marvels at the way her body moves.
“Scully, tell me what you did wrong. I want to know that you know.”
“Mulder, can’t we talk about this later?”
“Tell me”, he demands.
“I should have been honest with you from the beginning. I should not have gone off with Spender without telling you the plan.”
This time he does thrust up into her. She yelps in surprise, if not a slight amount of pain. “That’s mostly right, Scully. But, whether you tell me the plan or not, there is no reason for you to ever go off with him again. Promise me there won't be a be a next time.”
“I promise. I will never go anywhere with him again.”
“Good girl.” He squeezes her ass in approval, “As for the other part - the part about you being honest. Have you been honest, Scully? Do I know everything now?”
She is breathless, increasing her pace and riding him harder. “Yes.” she manages, “You know everything.”
Mulder pulls her down by her hips, halting her movements.
Her eyes are glassed over. She was so close. “What are you doing?” she mewls. Confusion mars the look of pure pleasure that she had been wearing across her face.
Without separating, he reverses their position again. She now lies on the bed. He begins pounding into her.
“See, now I don’t think that you are telling the truth, Scully. In fact, I know you aren’t.”
Ultimately, the momentary hiatus does little to delay Scully’s second orgasm. She comes around him, hard and fast.
Mulder quickly withdraws. “Turn over, Scully. Get on your hands and knees.”
Convincing her post-orgasmic limbs to cooperate, Scully gets on to all fours. As he enters her from behind, swatting at her roughly.
“Tell me where you went after leaving Spender in Pennsylvania, Scully.”
“What do you mean? After the cabin, I went to your place. You know that already. I met you and the Gunmen.”
He spanks her again. “Wrong answer!”
Unapologetically pounding into her now, he approaches his release. He looks down at her, cataloging every detail. The red globes of her ass shake wildly from his desperate pace. He empties into her with a final grunt.
He comes to with Scully stirring beneath him. “Mulder, I can't breathe.”
He rolls off of her and pulls her back into his chest, "This conversation is far from over, Scully."
Kissing her shoulder, he wraps his arms around her, possessively holding one of her breasts as he drifts to sleep.