TITLE: Absit Invidia - Part 1

NAME: frogdoggie

E-MAIL: frogdoggie@hotmail.com

CATEGORY: SRA

RATING: NC-17. MSR, SK/SC, M/SC/SK, M/SK - and pretty much in that order. This story contains just about everything, folks. A three-way relationship, very explicit het sex and some slash i.e. m/m sex. So, if you don’t like that type of thing - STOP NOW! Forewarned is forearmed. Proceed with caution.

SUMMARY: A post-colonization story. Mulder, Scully and Skinner survive the invasion...but will they survive for long...and how? Missing a part of this story or just want to read more of my fic? Then surf here: https://www.squidge.org/3wstop

FEEDBACK - YES PLEASE, AND THANK YOU SIR, CAN I HAVE ANOTHER? Comments, suggestions and healthy debate are always welcome. Flames? They only serve to warm my body and mind.

ARCHIVE: Sure. Anywhere - as long as my name and e-mail addy stay on it.

TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: This is an AU...post-colonization...so sometime after July 4th, 2000. Spoilers would include the entire series, up to "The Great Maleeni". References specifically to SR819, Orison, Fight the Future, and a whole lot of other eps can be found here.

KEYWORDS: story MSR slash Mulder Scully Skinner post-colonization NC-17

DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner and all other X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and 20th Century FOX Broadcasting. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from their use.

Completed in January of 2000.

*Author's notes: After I finished "The Baton Rouge Series"...and during it as well...I had a lot of requests to write another threesome story. So, this is the result. This story is an experiment in style and structure, however. I write stream of consciousness a lot of the time and since I'd been doing quite a bit of reading about Gertrude Stein recently in connection with that idea, I was interested to see if I could actually craft a story that approached that style of writing. So, for better or worse...this is the result. If it's difficult to read, my apologies. Maybe it's a failed experiment but it was a good challenge to write and I enjoyed doing it. I also felt when I was done that the style fit the urgency and drama of the story. It also said Mulder POV to me for some reason. I always saw Mulder's mind as firing ideas, thoughts and impressions very quickly. I tried to mirror that idea in the writing as well. So, without further ado, I present...

Absit Invidia

by frogdoggie

In the end we went out with a whimper and not a bang. There was nothing I could do. To my everlasting regret...nothing any of us could do. Not me. Not Scully. Not Skinner. Not anyone.

No. 'Veni, Vidi, Vici'. They came. They saw. They conquered...and we ran. There was no choice. Run or die. Me, and Scully and Skinner...we all ran and to my surprise we ended up running together. How? Pure luck. A conference in Chicago, Illinois. Come on to our local Bureau Office, AD Skinner. Strut your DC stuff. Bring us your best and tell us how it's done. Whoa...Mr. and Mrs. Spooky turn out to be just what the AD ordered up? Well, sure enough...surprise, we were the Chicago field office's just before 4th of July entertainment. We should have been doubly flattered and thankful, Scully and I. Thanks to Skinner, we had one moment of glory in front of our peers and then our lives changed forever...everyone's lives changed forever and...we ran...and Skinner ran too...and we...we saved ourselves but I have...God, I...Scully says I need to let go of the guilt for not staying and resisting and dying with everyone else...and Skinner...well he doesn't say much but I can tell from the set of his jaw...he wants to let go of the guilt too. Live to fight another day Scully said. I have to believe that's what we did...what we're doing...but...

Yessir. We did our little dance for the local Fibbies in Chicago. And surprise - it turned into Totentanz - yeah, dance of death. Ring around the rosy, a pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes, we all fall down. Except Scully, and Skinner and I didn't fall because we ran, and it wasn't plague that took everyone else out...it was...it was a shadow government obscured behind fucking clouds of cigarette smoke and bees, FEMA, the National Guard, even some within the FBI...and last but not least ET and he was coming here to phone home.

So we ran. A run for our nightmares. One night or another one or the other of us dreams about it, and we wake up screaming. Their ships illuminating the night skies. Gleaming black in daylight. Invasion. Colonization. Subjugation. Utilization...they took us...as many as they could, using us up for their purposes...survival and continuation of their race and what they didn't take...they tried to destroy. Devastation. Cities, towns, villages burning. Carnage like you wouldn't believe...like none of us could fathom...even Skinner and he'd been to war. Even Scully and she'd seen the burning on the bridge. Even me and I'd seen the aftermath of that myself. No...this was....it was the scale of it. The sheer numbers. The wailing of hundreds upon hundreds upon...panicked voices. The death throttles of so many...dead, thousands upon thousands of dead. The overwhelming stench. The buckets of blood. I still don't know how we got out. Sometimes we hid but mostly...we ran, we walked, we crawled, when we were lucky, we drove. Once we boated, yeah, three little Fibbies in a boat crossing...Lake Superior. The trip's a blur really. From Chicago to Winnipeg, Canada, in five months. Gee...time flies when you're having fun.

We didn't stop to think about anything but survival. Nope. No deep hearted conversations when we were in hiding about Mom, apple pie or the dying US of A. No debates about the Consortium and its machinations or the Cigarette Smoking bastard or Krycek or any of them. No...reminiscing. No...gee, Scully, remember Eugene Tooms, or Clyde Bruckman or Jose Chung or...or...remember that night in my hallway when I nearly kissed you and remember when I did on New Year's Eve and...remember when you hauled my ass out of the Bermuda Triangle and I told you I loved you and...no...remember when the guys...the guys...Frohike. Langly. Byers. God...that one last cell phone call..."Go," I yelled into the phone. "We're gone," Frohike replied, and then he added...a breathless..."God bless you both," click...I hope...God I hope they got out and no...gee, Mulder...remember the first time we really talked in that hotel room...and remember the Apollo keychain you gave me on my birthday and...remember when you held me after Pfaster and then Padgett and...remember when you showed me how to bat and...remember when I showed you that magic trick and...all the times we were there for each other...and even the ditching and...why even say it? I mean...

She knows how I feel, right? I know how she feels...right? The night I held her when it finally hit home that the rest of her family was more than likely dead...she knew. I knew the day she held me when I had to shoot that kid in Concord, Wisconsin. The one who was screaming because something was ripping itself out of his guts in a sick parody of birth...and I put a bullet in his head and its head and lost it...and she rocked me. Yeah, I knew what she felt for me...so there's no need to talk about it, right? Besides...the memories...there's really no point and there's really no time between exhaustion and hunger, fear, pain and fighting to do anything other than watch each other's backs and run...and survive.

So...no discussions and no...recriminations...or acts of forgiveness or...No...gee, Mulder and Scully...please forgive me for all the wrongs I've committed against you forever, and ever, amen because I made mistakes....I towed the line...tried to balance and fell...and I hate myself for all of it more than you'll ever know...and God help me I wish it had never happened and...yes, sir, we forgive you because we know you were compromised and blackmailed...your life in another man's hands....and you're just a man who did what he thought he had to do and...you had no choice in the end. I mean why even say it? The first time I shot a man point blank to save his life Skinner had to know...right? The time Scully dug a bullet out of his arm and held his head while he vomited from the pain I guess he knew we didn't give a shit about the past...right? I hoped so anyway.

But did we talk? No. Nada. Nope. At no time was it...hi my name is Dana and may I call you Walter because as I'm picking shattered bits of glass out of your ass... yeah...don't ask...it occurs to me that calling you 'sir' is just a bit too formal? At no time was it...hi my name is Fox and may I call you Walter since as I'm pissing on your boots because we can't move out of this fucking 'hidey-hole' and I couldn't hold it anymore so I whipped it out and let fly towards you and not Scully it occurs to me that calling you 'sir' is just a bit too formal? No...it was Mulder, Scully and Sir. Fuck...we hardly thought about names or anything remotely...smelling of the finer points of civilization anyway. It's...

It's really rather amazing how you revert to...to the most primitive base instincts...animal instincts when your life is in danger. I never thought I could kill in cold blood...kill without thinking about it...without it being...an act of apprehension or self-preservation associated with the job. But I did. It became like...like a deadly, bloody reflex. I never thought. I sure as hell know Scully never thought she could either, that time with Pfaster notwithstanding, until she did. And she did it to save me at the time and then she did it over, and over again. And Skinner. Christ. I...I can't even tell you. God...what it must have cost him to do what he did. He's a very efficient killer. Semper Fi. Special Forces. Be proud, be a Marine. Uh huh. Sure. Every time...every time I think part of him died. See...he was the only one that could bring it on down man to man on the road. Death up close and personal in hand to hand combat. I mean with a knife to the throat or guts or...a wire...or his bare hands around a man's neck. I couldn't and neither could Scully. You know what he said when I asked him how he could do it? Skinner said, "Mulder, I've died before - twice. I've got death inside me 24/7. I don't mind looking death in the face because I know him." I didn't have an answer for that because...fuck...all I could think of was...it's the truth and most of the damn world is getting to know 'Mr. Death' and I hope to hell it isn't only a matter of time before we get to know him better still.

But we dealt death. We saw death dealt, and sometimes, a very few times, we defeated the Grim Reaper and rejoiced in it. Scully defeated him the most...healing whenever she had a chance. One young boy...I'll never forget. Tiny rural town in Wisconsin after the clone goon squads passed through. Most people had left fleeing for their lives...and this boy and his mother...the boy...maybe seven years old standing mute, his arm just hanging, dislocated and the woman screaming, "Help John, Help John!" and it wasn't even the boy's name, it was her husband's and he was dead in a culvert across the street.

Skinner had to slap her to stop her hysterics. Scully and I took the boy aside. Quiet, he just stared at his mother. "Hey, buddy...what's your name?" I asked. Big eyes on my face. No response. Scully hugged him close and he whispered. "Michael." I smiled at him. "Michael, I'm going to make your arm all better. Can you lean against my friend so I can do that?" Scully asked. Michael nodded and leaned into me. I steadied him...and one quick shift of her hands and Scully put his arm back. The woman, standing, staring at Skinner, her eyes huge finally saying "Thank you, John," and the AD looked away, tears in his eyes. Another woman and her husband came by and took them away. I never knew if they got out. We went North and they all fled...somewhere else. We kept going North...using the compass we found in the Amoco service station in the boy's town...North to where we knew it would eventually get much colder. Too cold for the grays...too cold for the bees.

So we ran and we lived for the moment. Left Winnipeg on November first. No more bees suddenly this past Saturday, November 15th. First hard cold snap and they started to die. Either the cold...or they had some kind of weird shelf-life. Whatever. Hope they stay dead. Still don't know how we managed not to get stung. So we got the hell out of town again and we walked and walked and...

xXx

We've been walking for miles when we spot the farmhouse. Reconnoiter, senses hyped, rifles at the ready. Skinner on point. He always goes ahead. The place is deserted luckily. No dead Mr. and Mrs. Green Jeans or little Green Jeans to bury or burn. Hell, I'm glad that's the case. Scully still gets upset sometimes when we find the dead kids...well, we all do. Man it's cold. They have a fireplace and a big old pot-bellied stove in the kitchen. Plenty of wood. It's like heaven inside this farmhouse because we take a chance at stoking 'em both. Heat and light too and more light from a lantern, flashlights, candles and those long kitchen matches we find. Some canned food. Hey...what do you know...the place is still almost a home. But the piece de resistance...the manual well pump.

Portable water for cooking...but more important...bathing. God, another luxury we all miss so much. Damn Skinner's anxious to shave. I have to laugh at that. He's had the beard for weeks. We all reek to high heavens and the AD wants to scrape his face. But...it is a semblance of normalcy and shit...I can't blame him. I want to get rid of my face fuzz too. Scully wants to wash her hair in the worst way, God bless her. She...well she still looks beautiful to me but I know she hates the smell, the grease, the dirt. Hell...if nothing else we just want to get the blood out from under our fingernails.

Rub a dub dub...three little Fibbies draw lots for the tub. Skinner wins. It doesn't take him long even though he has to shave with a 'Lady Schick'. He comes out, shaved and all in just short of an hour. Impressive. Even more impressive...his attire. He's wearing a pair of long underwear. Don't ask. Ok...yeah they're fire engine red. Scully and I both suppress laughter but we don't dare ask or comment. We know he rifled one of the dressers in a back bedroom. I know he's tired too. We tell him to sleep in the same back bedroom if he wants. He opts for the couch. Ever watchful. We lock up tight and place the screamer alarms. If anyone even jiggles a door handle we'll know. Skinner's out like a light in ten minutes. It's Scully up next for the bath.

You live for the moment. I have soap in my eyes when I hear the bathroom door open and quietly shut. Can you believe it...I go for my Smith and Wesson like I can see it. Would have completed the movement if it hadn't been for the soft...

"Mulder, it's me."

"Scully?" I ask rather stupidly, wiping at my eyes with my hand. I'm standing there naked, freshly bathed, rinsing my face after the shave...it isn't like she's never seen me naked but I get the soap cleared away and...she's naked too. I think...what? She bathed already....but she's naked and...she...and then I know this is different then the other times. I know...I think...maybe she really doesn't know...what if she doesn't know how I feel and...I should...

"I love you," I whisper.

"I know. I love you too," she quietly replies.

It took the end of the world is all I can think for a minute...the end of the world...and then she kisses me and...it doesn't matter.

God she's so beautiful. Our lips meet. Mouths open. Tongues war. The taste...we'd had coffee for the first time in months that afternoon and I can taste it on her tongue...and it's so sweet. And then I can taste what must be essence of Scully...and it's ambrosia. We press together...sliding skin...on skin on...lips, and hands, touching, licking, sucking, caressing, kissing. I grow so hard, so fast and her hands....my hands, entwine as I thrust my erection against her. I lift her onto the vanity and...on my knees...her legs around my head...I'm between her thighs...mouth tasting another part of her and man...it's just as sweet. Sucking her...my tongue running in and out and then over and over...she's wet...incredibly...warm, musky and then...shuddering...grabbing at my head spastically and I taste a gush of new wetness and hold her hips and she comes once hard and then again softly, trembling as I lave her.

I rise up, stand in front of her, capture her eyes...I want...I need to know...if..."It's ok," she says and then...my hands shake. Fumbling..."Sorry," I gulp the word...she smiles. I...I almost lose it when she smiles like that at me. Her eyes...the smile travels all the way to her luminous blue eyes. I shift...so close and...oh God...yeah...one slow thrust...slowly...slowly...and I'm inside her, and oh fuck, I can't hold back I...fuck, and I'm like a fucking jackhammer. Scully pulls me close. Legs wrap around my waist. Ankles lock behind. Where do I put my hands...on her....her hips...hips...oh man...I'm gone.

Sweating, flushing, grunting, panting, groaning. She holds me, tells me she loves me, it's good, do it, do it, let go and I'm trying and...warmth rising up out of my balls...and I'm trying and...my cock pounding into her....muscles tightening, tightening....and almost and she moans..."Mulder, come for me," and then...and then...I roar..."UHHHHSCULLY!" I see a white, blinding light and I must be dying but it's fucking glorious and wave, upon wave, upon wave, of ecstasy surges through me and I know I'm coming....spurting cum like a rocket inside...and out and down between her ass cheeks as I thrust spastically against her....burying myself deep inside...and...I cry out UHHHH! in pleasure again....and I hear...the sound of feet pounding down the hallway. Bathroom door smashing open and...I'm thrusting and moaning and finally my eyes are open so I can see...I can see Scully's coming again now too, her head back, mouth open in a silent scream...

Gruff whisper "Jesus H. Christ..."

...and my mind barely registers...Skinner...gun in hand....and then I'm falling into her tits...and Scully's sobbing and laughing with joy and so am I.

xXx

Skinner's on the back porch, his jeans and boots pulled on over the long johns. Standing. Facing the setting sun. Looking out over...nothing really. In the cold. I walk over and stand by his side. "Scully's making some food...and more coffee," I tell him. He nods. "Sorry," he replies, his voice rough. Embarrassment in one rumbled word. I shrug. Tense jaw just like in the office as he shifts on his feet. I start to tell him...what? It was the first time? Shit...he shakes his head at my mumbling, glances at me. "None of my business," he says clearing his throat.

Something...a twist of emotion crosses his face before he turns away and I know...I realize...oh shit. He sees me watching but won't look back. "How long?" I ask. He swallows and looks at me at last. Setting sun on his lenses masks his eyes. But his lips flatten in a tight line. "Don't ever say a thing to her, Mulder. I mean it. Never. Please," he hisses, looking away again.

Oh man. He loves her? Loves Scully. I just stare at his profile. Watch his jaw muscles jump. What the hell can I say? I turn and stare blindly into the setting sun. "Want some more coffee?" I finally ask wanting to either scream or pound my head against the wall...or both. "Thank you. I'll be in shortly," he answers not looking at me. I nod and leave his side.

xXx

My turn for the nightmare that night. Asleep in the back bedroom, Scully in my arms. "SAMANTHA!" I scream, "NOOOO!" Christ...after everything...maybe millions of deaths and...it's still about my sister. Skinner hears me screaming. This time he knocks. "He just had a nightmare. He's ok, sir," Scully calls through the door. "Can I get you anything?" Skinner asks. "I'm fine. Thanks," I reply. My chest is heaving, sweat rolling off me but...hey...I'm fine. Brief pause...silence outside the door, then..."I'll give you some more time before your watch," Skinner rumbles. "Yes, sir. Thank you," I reply, grateful. Soft padding of feet recede back down the hallway. I wince, guilt welling up. Fuck...he's out in the living room like a damn watchdog...alone and...we should have stayed out there but...it was so fucking awkward...idiotic...stupid embarrassment. Skinner insisted it was 'fine'...damn all-encompassing 'I'm fine, Mulder and Scully...it's fine...everything's fine'...and who are we to argue with the boss...and...ah hell...Scully and I just wanted to be together...to talk and touch and...

"Mulder...are you sure you're all right?" Scully asks interrupting my train of thought. Brow furrowed. She looks just like she did back at the Hoover. Dana 'don't bullshit me' Scully. But I do. I turn away from frowning at the bedroom door. "Yeah. It's ok," I whisper, pulling her close again. It'll never be ok, ever again but...tonight we'll pretend I think. "Go to sleep," I reassure her. "You better not be bullshitting me," she grouses. I chuckle and she snuggles close. Last word, she's asleep and then so am I.

xXx

We never mentioned that day in the farmhouse again. The next morning Scully was up early, on watch. "Robot scout ship," she whispered in my ear. It must have seen the smoke from the chimney. We moved on. Never knew if it came back. Staying on wasn't worth the risk. Too close to what passed for civilization anyway. We needed to head further North, into the woods...into the cold.

Cold. God damn, it was too. None of us wanted to admit it but we thought we were through really. Only light packs, our handguns and rifles. Trying to live off the land and the few rations we found in our wanderings. Plenty of water...we were up to our knees in snow after all...and it was deepening. Tripping over the first of several human shaped frozen lumps in the snow. Others had come this way, tried and died. But shit...we were too stubborn to drop in the tracks of a howling snowstorm. One insulated boot in front of the other...march on soldiers.

I remember all of us huddling together, under the heavy bows of a grove of pine trees. Crawling under an improvised shelter we'd made thinking...we're going to freeze to death here. Holding Scully and I swear to God...the first time in my life I ever let a man hold me close. Skinner, trying to gather both of us into his arms. Man furnace. I think it was what saved us really. His big, 'bear' arms hugging us and that blast furnace body of his. We woke up the next morning and traveled on. It was still snowing and the wind cut like a knife. The minutes stretched into hours and we just kept walking...we didn't know what else to do except walk and look for more shelter before nightfall.

It was Scully who spotted the sign. 'Danforth's Lodge. Cabins for rent. 5 miles ahead'. There must have been a road. But the snow...and it was almost nightfall. We lumbered off in hot pursuit. The sun set fast...too fast and the snow blew on. Stumbling about in the dark...fucking flashlight...dead battery...and no sign of anything and I couldn't feel my feet anymore. I could just see Skinner ahead of Scully. We keep her between us so she wouldn't get the wind in her face. Skinner running ahead...his light sweeping...and I'm yelling wait...wait because I can't see and I'm slipping and sliding, and so is Scully, and we're careening into each other and then...row of cabins....and we were saved again.

xXx

A lodge all right. Looks burned...tumbled in on one end...maybe. Hard to see much without getting closer. But...some of the cabins are intact. Getting inside is paramount. We'll explore when we're warm. 'Eenie, meenie, miney, mo'...pick a cabin out of the row. Break-in. It's an A-frame. One huge great room really. Sleeping loft with...good golly, Miss Molly...a bed! Living room, kitchen and bathroom. The usual furniture. The couch folds out into a second bed. Huge fireplace. We're in luck ...a well pump again...and it's not frozen. Nice of the owner to insulate it in a little pump house. Someone is looking out for us for sure. We find a couple of buckets, and a big pot, and quickly draw water for drinking and personal use.

Christ we're tired. Sleep. It's on all our minds. Take watches? No way...it's brutal out and we're far enough North...too cold for anyone...or anything. Please...no one can be out in this mess. We should be safe so...we build the fire fast, set the alarms, eat a granola bar each just for the energy...wash up a little, piss or whatever and then...

"Take the loft," Skinner suggests, not quite meeting our eyes. Scully clears her throat but I beat her to the punch. "You sure, sir? I mean we could..." I begin. "No, that's fine. You two...uh...go on," he replies, faltering just slightly in that clipped, terse delivery. He leaves our side and heads to the bathroom...again? Scully tracks him with her eyes. Brow furrowed. I watch his back too...spine straight despite his fatigue. Scully glances back at me. My eyes slide...away. I shrug. "Bed," I mumble. She has something to say...but she's too tired to say it. Reprieve I think. It takes two trips up to the loft. First trip, flashlights...mine taking the last of our fresh batteries, rifles and guns. Second trip...sleeping bags as we climb up the steps. Fireplace heat just reaching the bed. Dusty so we shake out the sheets and comforter. Open up the sleeping bags. Add them for extra warmth over the comforter. Strip...to our underwear and T-shirts. Climb in. Spoon together. Sighs of contentment...dare I hope.

Hear the bathroom door shut downstairs. "Good night, sir," I call down. "Good night, Mulder. Good night, Scully," quiet rumble from somewhere near the couch. "Night, sir," Scully adds.

xXx

A sound awakens me and I'm up and at the loft railing, gun braced before I even realize it. "Mulder!" Scully calls out. Skinner, thrashing around in the couch bed. Nightmare. He wakes with a hoarse cry. "Stay here," I caution her as she moves to get up. "Sorry, no," she replies. I frown but I can't stop her. Safety back on the gun. Lay it down on the night table and...downstairs he's sitting up in bed now, white T-shirt, stretched over muscles...both slightly damp. He scrubs at his face. I stand by the side of the couch. Notice the fire needs wood. Scully comes up, stands at my side. "Are you all right?" she asks. His eyes rise...he looks at her standing there in the flickering firelight, in her underwear, nipples a little hard and...before he can hide it I see it in his eyes and I know...Scully sees it too. I look from Skinner to her and...her face goes very still. Skinner looks away. "I'm fine. Sorry I woke you," he rumbles. I don't know what to say so I decide to play parrot.

"You sure you're all right?" I ask. Head swivels to me. "Yes...thanks," he shrugs. Scully clears her throat. "I'll...I'll say good night then," she adds softly. Skinner nods. "Good night, Scully." She nods and then she's gone. Skinner's eyes track her for a moment then...he looks down at his hands. "Can I get you anything?" I query before the implications of those words hit home and I flinch. He looks at me...face oddly vulnerable without his specs. I see...I see his complete lack of hope in anything he could feel for her ever being reciprocated and his acknowledgment that he thinks the best man won and....deep down that hot flicker of desire for her that he tamps down and then...a shake of the head...just a ghost of a smile in self-deprecation. "I could use a shot of bourbon...but I know that's not going to happen," he replies. I chuckle. "No...but I'll get you some water," I reply with a small smile in return. "I'll toss a log on the fire too," I add. He nods his thanks. I squash down the feeling of wanting to scream again at not knowing what to say to him or do for him.

The water goes down...the glass goes back to the kitchen. "Night then," I say as he lies back down. "Night," he mumbles. The log goes on the fire in a tiny shower of sparks. Back to the loft.

Scully silent, on her side, in the dark...I slide in next to her and...she whispers..."Did you know?"..."Yes," I reply. "For how long?" half-angry hiss in return. "Since the farm..." I begin. "Dear God...why didn't you say something, Mulder? How long has he..." she interrupts, confusion and embarrassment taking over the anger. "Scully..." I interrupt. "Mulder, he's in love with me," she whispers again, turning over to face me.

Below we hear a sound like a mini 747 taking off. Skinner. Snoring. I nod into Scully's face...etched in sadness...and...I tell her..."I guess...for a while..." and then I tell her the gist of it. "When you had cancer...he made a deal with the devil to save your life." I shrug. There's nothing else to say. "For that long?" she asks again. I nod. "I think so," I reply. "I never...suspected..." she starts to say. But her voice trails off and...'I' suspect that's not completely true, but she's just now realizing it. I sense....a confession coming. "I kissed him once," she whispers, watching my face. I crinkle up my brow. Smile because I can't help it...the image...what must he have thought? "When?" I ask. She smiles a little in return. "When you were in the Bermuda Triangle. It's...a long story," she replies. "In an elevator...in the Hoover," she adds. "In the Hoover?" I ask. "Yes," she replies. "And?" I prompt. "And...he was so shocked...but..." she muses. "But?" I prompt again. "But...for a moment...there was something in his eyes right afterwards. I...I should have known."

I stroke her hair. "Your mind was elsewhere," I reply. Simple statement absolution and a twinge of guilt for me because..."I guess it was," she replies softly, ruefully, looking up at me from under her eyelashes. There's so much love now in those eyes. I shudder. Hot rush of arousal goes right to my cock. I bend and kiss her hard and she melts against me. Life...this is about celebrating surviving another day, and our love, and the fact that we can feel this electric bolt of lust for each other despite our exhaustion, and so what if we're going to make love, and Skinner's right down there snoring on the couch and...we both know he'd like to be up here doing this with her too.

But we are quiet, so quiet as mouths and hands roam over rapidly heating and sweating flesh. Harsh breathing and suppressed moans. Lift her T-shirt up. I fasten on her tit and suck, and suck and it's...God...the most exquisite feeling as Scully arches up under my lips. Bites her lip to keep from crying out as I plunge one hand down the front of her underwear and stroke...into slick, warm folds and then up over...swelling nub...rotating my finger over her clit...over and over...her hand guiding me to the most sensitive spot. Circular motion. Harder...then my other hand joins the first. Fingers thrust inside her...flicking up...massaging. She buries her head in my shoulder, my T-shirt in her teeth as she comes, groaning low. Jerking once, twice into my hand. Shaking, her arms holding me close. "You're so good," she whispers huskily. "Angel," I murmur into her hair.

Sliding underwear down our legs. Off. She moves onto her back...knees up. I crawl between, and I thrust into her like we've done this forever, and not just once and this time I go slow and easy, slow and easy, rocking gently into her. She meets my thrusts...perfect rhythm and...oh man I can last like this I can...go slow and tease the head of my cock in and out of her cunt, rub it over her clit until she's panting hard and so am I and...then she comes again...whimpering and twisting and I hold her for a minute until she grabs for my cock and urges me in again...thrusting deep and then stilling to gaze down at her. "You're so beautiful," I whisper. "I love you," she murmurs, stroking my hair. We move together again...slowly and then...faster and then...faster, and I start to grunt low with each thrust, and she grabs my ass, kneading it hard with her hands and I feel the warmth pooling in my groin...and my balls...tight...sudden rolling spasm...I thrust quick...quick, deep thrusts...harsh snapped off cry..."Gaa..." Exploding. Spastic thrusts....My turn to bury my head in her shoulder.

Coming down...heavy breathing. Murmuring endearments. Pulling out and sighing at the loss of connected flesh. Spooning together, I kiss the back of her neck. "You know I love you, Mulder...don't you?" Scully whispers. I snort a breathless, quiet laugh. "I had some idea, yes," I reply, kissing her again. "No matter what...I love you," she adds. I pull her closer. "No matter what," I reply. "Forever..." she sighs. "Forever," I echo. She nods, seemingly satisfied and even as her breath evens out in sleep and her words echo in my drowsy mind...I know...I know...

xXx

Morning light just peeking through the dusty curtains on the windows that stretch across the back of the cabin. Must be a hell of a view I thought last night. Right into the woods. I wake...and Scully isn't there. And...I know...

I hear subtle movement downstairs. Sounds like...wood on wood and...crackling...wood being added to the fire. I roll to the edge of the bed...in the shadows...and look out through the banisters. I can see the floor below...I can see...Skinner walk to the curtains...pulling the curtains open slightly and then standing...sans glasses... no bows over the ears, T-shirt, boxer briefs...back to me, one hand on the curtain....free hand on hip...surveying the territory...and Scully, plain cotton panties and T-shirt stark white in the dim light...just at the end of the loft steps...walking towards him.

Hairs come up on my neck...in...anticipation. I almost hold my breath. He must hear her but he doesn't let on until..."It's still snowing," Skinner observes as Scully reaches his side. His voice...hushed but I can hear...clearly. See the taut muscles in his neck...stretch...stretch...like so many bowstrings as Scully...touches his bicep. A flinch. Curtain drops and...his head swivels to look down and...I can't see her face but I can see his and...God, the desolation there. He studies her face, his eyes roam over it...long and slow and...he shakes his head. "No," he husks. "No...not..." he shakes his head again and walks away. Scully follows, but next to the couch he whirls on her, grabs her by the arms, his face in her face and...I come up on my hands...but...his face tells me there's no real danger. He speaks...fast, raw, and serious...his voice rough with emotion.

"You can't possibly want...not me...not this way. After what I've done to you... both. After what you have with him you can't possibly want...this..." he stops when she looks down and whispers. I strain to hear. "What you've done 'for' us both 'is' why I want this...and what I have with him is...the knowledge that if you wait...it may be too late. But if you don't, it may be forever...Walter."

I watch and I know...I know this is about compassion and respect and the idea that we may find out about forever very soon...days at the most. Starvation. Snowed in with no food or...discovery and death by immolation, or worse yet, capture and...utilization...and...I know that no man should die without at least attaining one thing he might have wanted most in this world. No man is an island, and no man...no man should have to die thinking he's an unloved, unwanted bastard or be put down like a dog without the one good thing he's dreamed about...so...make-a-wish Walter S. Skinner. An angel is about to grant it and...

He pushes her away hard...but she won't let go. "Scully...no..." he grates out, a warning, a plea...his throat convulsing. She won't let him let her go...holding his forearms tight. His head bows, mouth open, struggling with his breath for a moment...her voice gentle..."It's all right. Let it go," she whispers...and then he does. "Oh dear...Jesus," he half-sobs, in one fluid move going to his knees on the hardwood floor...even I can feel the bruises he'll have and I hear the crack as he hits and Scully grasping...pulling him to her...his bald head against her stomach...his arms around her hips, and...he sobs...sobs quietly into her T-shirt. She strokes his fringe of hair. I feel like a voyeur...but neither of them acknowledge my eyes.

Finally, slowly he rises...up and up and...full height over her but not dwarfing her by any means. Swipes at his eyes, won't meet hers for a moment and then...he does. Tenderness there and...it's no surprise really...the soft brown depths of his eyes...and he's suddenly...alive...so alive again...free...a man again and not a bastard dog and...salvation is here and now and... "I love you," he murmurs. "I know," she replies reaching out her hand. He takes her hand...breathes deeply and speaks..."I...you're safe...you...I can't pass them on. Krycek said...they don't work that way," he mumbles, looking down again. She touches his chest. "I understand," she whispers and he looks up and smiles.

He embraces her. So much gentleness in so large and muscular a man...and he studies her face once more...seeking...permission...granted and their lips meet and I know what he's tasting. He's tasting heaven.

I am a voyeur and they dance across my eyes and I know this scene will dance across my eyelids from now on when I dream...as Skinner...his hands shaking slightly but then...deep breath...more confident...pulls Scully's T-shirt up and...off and then she helps him take his off too. Cotton tossed onto cotton and then tits into chest hair, rubbing, stroking...she smiles. "It tickles," she mumbles...he has more than I do. He smiles. He strokes her hair and she leans into his hand...gazing up at him...expectation written in her eyes. His face...so intense...so...passionate suddenly. "Tell me if it's good," he growls...and once again, sinks to his knees, this time slowly. Lowers his head to her right nipple. Scully arches her neck and he lifts her breast up to take more of it into his mouth. "Oh...yes," she whispers. Soft, wet sucking sounds...moaning around hot skin. God, I know what that's like.

Sucking from tit to tit and back and forth until she's whimpering and then his hands sliding down...down...fingers snagging elastic and cotton...panties pooling around Scully's ankles. "Oh," she murmurs as one large hand grabs her ass and his mouth slides down over her belly and down and...and I suddenly realize...they must know I'm watching...and they're letting me watch this...and they're so focused and they...don't care...and it's like a gift...and my groin throbs and...I lick my lips as Skinner's tongue laps her cunt over, and over and...Scully's hips buck into his face and he shoves his tongue inside her as his free hand massages her clit. Slowly...teasing...then backing off. Tongue in and out and...slowly...teasing....then backing off...teasing...she's writhing and he won't let her fall down, he holds her tight with one arm around her hips and ass and...

He stands again and...Scully, breathless, eyes hooded and mouth slack with arousal...watches large hands cradle and lift...Scully comes up into his arms...biceps flex...and...he...no effort at all...he takes her to the bed. Lays her down and then...pulls his briefs off and tosses them aside. Big, rapidly growing large cock and heavy balls spring free...he lies beside her and takes her hand..."Sit on my face," he whispers...voice harsh with arousal. He lies back...she crawls up over his side...up over his muscular pectorals and poises over his mouth. "Yes," he smiles at the view. "Beautiful...like a rose," he whispers and she lowers herself down.

Oh God...he holds her hip with one hand...his jaws work...more wet...slurping sounds and Scully rocks over him...gently rising and falling, twisting from side to side with subtle undulations of her ass and then....his free hand toys with her tits again....and...as he sucks, licks, thrusts his tongue in and out I'm thinking...how can he breathe and...his hand travels down...finger on clit...and rubs, stroking hard and Scully cries out, arching up, rapid hip movement and then...collapses forward...and he holds her steady as she trembles...and then...shifts her back off his face.

"Wonderful," she murmurs, licking her lips and panting to get her breath back. "Fantastic," he rumbles, smiling with all his teeth. His mouth and chin are slick with her juices. A shiver runs up my spine and my cock would salute if I wasn't lying on my stomach. I rub myself on the bed and...oh...Christ that feels....good...and Scully shifts off and then repositions herself in back of his erection.

"You like it on top?" he whispers...watching her face. His cock is almost erect...damn that thing is huge...as he studies her he takes it in hand and fists himself. Getting it all the way up so she can see...what's getting into her. She reaches a hand forward and slides it up under his...and takes over the work...his hands drop to the mattress...grasp the comforter...fist up...he hisses and struggles not to let his eyes drop shut so he can watch her jerking him...."Any way you want it, Scully..." he tells her and she smiles. "Just like this," she replies...rising up...over...on...and down...sinking slowly and his eyes focus on the point between them....and his jaws clench tight, teeth bared in a rictus of pleasure as he sees her cunt taking him inch by inch all the way in. She comes to rest flush with his balls.

He looks up at her in wonder and his hands come up to gently caress her hips. "Ok?" he grunts, trying to grin. "Full," she nods and smiles. "So...lovely," he rumbles, his voice raw. She smiles again and strokes his hard stomach muscles. "Oh God," he mumbles as she pulls her hips up and then, sinks down...repeats the motion and...he takes up the rhythm and they piston together and I...I bite the inside of my mouth to keep from moaning loud as I slide my cock around on the sleeping bag under me.

No words...they don't utter a word...just harsh gasping...and Skinner's low, forceful grunts in time with each thrust of his hips and Scully's breathy moans in perfect counterpoint...and his hands grip her hips hard, lifting...helping her lever up as she starts to thrust faster and faster...frantic, spastic dance on his cock. He finds his voice then...low...like a big cat..."Do it...good...yeah...good..." he purrs, urging her on...and she bites her lip and looks down, shifting..."Oh God...so close," she whines, rotating and plunging up and down, up and down, riding...sweat standing out on the top of her freckling, flushing tits.

Skinner arches up...powerful ass and thigh muscles working...his face intense...flushing...sweat on his brow...mouth open and panting...changes the angle and she goes off like a rocket, and he has to slide his hands up to support her lower back as it arches. All her muscles contract...stomach muscles spasm tight...neck...face...mouth open...she screams, "DEARGOD!" loudly and he holds on and then..."Ffffuck!" he hisses....hips thrusting up rapidly once....twice...third time hard and deep. "UHHHHH!" he roars and they're straining together, muscles taut except for hips that pump, and pump and pump as they ride into ecstasy. And I...roll over...panting...grab hot swollen flesh and jerk it...air humping...gasping...desperate...please...oh please...oh...yeah...here we...rising...go...rising heat and then...I'm over the edge and riding the lightning...groaning and then spurting all over my chest.

xXx

When I crawl out of the loft it's 10 AM. Yeah...my watch still works. I rub at my jaw. Sandpaper I think. Get up and wander down the loft steps. Bright sunlight streams through open windows. Skinner stands backlit by it. Briefs only. I glance at the bed. Scully...sound asleep, burrowed under the covers. Shock of red hair peeks out. I smile.

Pad over, scratching at my stomach...dried semen. Pull my T-shirt down as I reach Skinner's side. "It's stopped snowing," he whispers. Voice slightly rusty...a little hesitant..."I saw a deer," he adds, glancing at me..."Meat for dinner," I reply...giving him a smile. His lips twitch a grin but it fades as he speaks again...his voice subdued and distant. "You know, Mulder...I realize that everything we were or knew, or thought we knew...everything we hoped to ever be or dreamed of or...well it's all changed. But, Christ...sometimes...sometimes it's hard to comprehend. We're...this is new...all so new, and I'm not sure what's SOP anymore. No standard operating procedure...no fucking protocol, no rules and regs and...all of it's gone down the crapper. I don't know a damn thing anymore," his quiet voice explains. Rueful shake of the head before he continues. "But one thing I do know...I know last night...last night a precious gift was given to me. Something I'd dreamed about...dared to hope for, but never thought I had a chance of ever..." he continues. "Sir..." I interrupt.

One glance that begs me to hear him out shuts me up..."Mulder," he rumbles. "I just want to tell you I'd never hurt her, if...if she doesn't want this...to continue...well...I don't intend to interfere or come between..." he lets his voice trail away. Eyes trained out the window, jaw muscles tense. I touch his shoulder. "Sir...absit invidia," I murmur into his profile. Eyebrow arches..."My Latin is rusty," he replies quietly, turning to stare at me. "Let there be no envy or ill will, sir," I reply. Drop my hand. Eyes soften behind lenses as I go on. "I'll never hurt her either...we'll watch over her together, sir...take care of her together...take care of each other together too." He swallows hard. Small smile. "It's Walter," he replies, extending his hand. And I take it...warm, rough fingers on warm, rough fingers...and I grin wider...and he smiles wider and...his whole face...his whole being changes...and his eyes shine...dark...but bright with life, and hope and...then I answer. "It's Mulder. I don't even let Scully call me Fox," I reply. Firm shake. "I rather thought that might be the case," he chuckles. Gruff...but companionable. The new order. Comrades in arms, friends...equals. I nod and our hands separate.

A small sound from the couch draws our attention. Scully pokes her head out, blinks back sleep and smiles. "Go to her," Skinner mumbles. "I'll get... breakfast," he gets hung up on the word "Such as it'll be," he adds with another rueful shake of his head. "We need to find more food," I whisper. He nods, once, curtly and leaves my side.

xXx

Skinner was wrong. We do have some SOP. Skinner on point. Mulder and Scully bringing up the rear. We don't complain. If it ain't broke is our motto. Breakfast, such as it was...spam, canned green beans and Ritz Crackers washed down with water, over...we're out...in search of restocking our dwindling food supplies. The other cabins beckon...the Lodge and Bambi wherever he got off to beckon...we trudge, rifles over our backs, through the deep, fresh snow.

Cabins first. Twelve scattered amongst the trees. Scenic. We start with the one closest to our little home away from home. Intact. I start to kick the door in...Skinner stops me. "We need a meat locker," he comments. Close by storage in general. Scully nods. We see his point. So we pick the lock instead. Identical to our cabin...loft...great room...whoa...luggage. Someone left in a hurry. Summer clothing...well...it's better than nothing. Some toiletries too. Eureka...can we hope the other cabins render results such as this one?

Four other cabins are intact...the rest in shambles from weather and a fire started ...and we could guess how and from what and hope we're wrong. Woods around this section burned too. Four cabins...empty. I don't know what we'd hoped...maybe...maybe someone had left something behind in every one? We try to hide our collective disappointment. Regrouping we turn our faces into the sun and the structure off in the trees.

The Lodge. Two stories. Fire had touched here too but not as badly as we'd thought last night. A few sleeping rooms on one end burned...the rest...somehow left standing dark and deserted before us. Cautious we fan out...keeping eye contact. Entry is easy and we sweep the undamaged rooms first. Afternoon sun streams in through windows. Some windows even in the undamaged areas are smashed in. We can see our breath inside. A couple of rooms...are still occupied. We wrap the bodies in blankets and put them in the bathtubs. Later...we'll build a pyre outside and burn them. Then...

We start to find things. More luggage...clothing...toiletries ...Bic lighters and matches...wallets...all sorts of personal belongings. Some pharmaceuticals...Advil, Tylenol, Pepcid AC and the like...prescriptions...Percodan...Valium...someone needed antibiotics too...that's a break...and...a rifle...a shotgun...both with ample ammo...four flashlights and batteries....a camera....no film...two cell phones...a laptop...what good the last three items will do I don't know. We take the laptop and cell phones. Cross country skis and snowshoes? Someone must have been up here during the winter...maybe the owners? An ounce of pot turns up. "Plan on inhaling again, Walter?" I chuckle. He gives me the look and Scully laughs then as well. The dope gets scattered to the four winds. Things are definitely looking up, though. Definitely looking up.

We load as much as we can onto three unhinged doors as improvised sleds for transport back. Lash it all down. Cut a hole in the end of each, attach knotted up sheets as drag lines. Leave them in the lobby and continue to explore and then...we find the dining room and bar and...Skinner practically chortling at the bottles of top shelf Kentucky bourbon. "Now this is more like it," he laughs, brandishing one and Scully running into the kitchen and finding...the larders, full of canned and dry goods and walk-in freezers, full of food...mostly rotten except for some bagels, cheeses and pepperoni...a disappointment. But...the rest...is manna from heaven. Months worth...at least enough to get us into summer and maybe beyond, and we're not going to die from starvation that's for sure and...it's like Christmas and Thanksgiving and every holiday you can think of and...I grab Scully and spin her around, and Skinner laughs...booming echo throughout the room.

And then we find the Lodge office and the radio and the small portable generator...and think...if only we had gas and then I find the gas pump out back. "No electricity...the pump won't work...but..." Scully observes, shifting from foot to foot in the cold. "There has to be an underground tank," Walter surmises. "Exactly," she smiles. "I'll look for a hose to siphon it," I add. Optimistic. Walter and Scully stare at the snowdrifts. Walter runs his hand over his ski masked chin.

By shear good luck we find the hatch to the tank only because it's near their empty garage and somewhat sheltered. Now...we have things to consider for sure. Should we or shouldn't we...communicate our whereabouts? Conclusion...it won't hurt to listen at least. But...it's growing late and we have a lot of trips to make between here and the cabin. We'll need the remainder of the afternoon and part of the evening if the weather holds. Dissembling the radio and hauling it will probably have to wait. We have to figure a way to get the antenna down off the roof for one thing. The gas has to be siphoned and hauled and all that's better done in daylight. The radio's weathered things this long under its plastic cover. Hopefully a little longer won't matter. So...we'll be stocking up...and I think even Bambi will live another day thanks to someone's penchant for canned hams and tuna fish.

xXx

Fire in the fireplace. Full stomachs. Baths after we heat water over the fire. Even a bubble bath for Scully...and a good long soak for Walter and then me too. Fresh shaves. Man...we feel almost human.

Some of our bounty is stored next door in the intact cabin. It's cold...but it'll have to do. We have a lot here too. Cupboards are full. Fridge in the kitchen is full of cans since it's not really functional at least until we get the generator set up. Good for storage for now. Supplies in the dishwasher as well. Boxes in the loft, boxes in the great room. Tomorrow we'll definitely get that radio but tonight...tonight we're content to sit and talk and...at last...start to get to know each other. The memories are allowed to come back a bit...and we start to share our true selves and it's pure nirvana. How much we didn't know about each other...how much we can reveal now...and what a pleasure it proves to be for us all.

Skinner on the folded up couch-bed, Scully and I in the big overstuffed chairs...Scully with her feet tucked up...we converse. Small-talk...opening salvos on getting to know you...getting to know all about you. Little things...like...Scully's feet are ticklish...and she's always covered up that mole on her lip because she thought it made her look...less than professional. She blurts it out...like a stripper or something and we all laugh like hell under the circumstances...and she always wanted a dog...and God...I am still sorry about Queequeg...and...she smiles shyly and says...she was the one who dropped the leash. I love her. I'll always love her and I told her neither one of us should shoulder the blame for anything anymore and...

Skinner is a secret chocoholic...and Scully and I laugh because she is too and well...I love my seeds so I'm a saltaholic. Skinner makes a joke...the FBI agent's four basic food groups...alcohol, salt, sugar, and caffeine. Laughter bounces off the walls. And he breaks out the bourbon and baker's milk chocolate chips we found and...we indulge ourselves. Toast. To...life...to hope...to...us. I choke on the bourbon. Large hand pounds me on the back. More laughter...and damn it feels good.

Eventually eyes grow heavy with the effects of full bellies, booze and chocolate and...bed calls. Walter and Scully throw more wood on the fire. I make the rounds of the screamer alarms. Little devices liberated from the world's conquerors. Took us two weeks to figure out they were solar-powered portable electronic perimeter alarms. Now...they guard us and it's poetic justice. Aptly named because they scream like air raid sirens if someone disturbs them.

We're all a little buzzed...loose...feeling better than we've felt in months but...there's some awkwardness as we gather near the couch-bed.

Skinner stares at it. I know...we all know what he's thinking, and I don't want him to be alone either. "Well...I guess I'll turn in," he comments, bending to pull it out. I glance at Scully. She takes my hand and squeezes it...affection...love in her eyes. I nod and so does she. "Look...Walter...uh...the bed upstairs is big enough for three...it'll be warmer and all," I suggest quietly to his back. He drops the end of the couch with a soft thud...straightens...slowly...turns...looks from me to Scully. "You don't have to do this..." he replies...but his eyes...his eyes are moist. "Walter...come to bed," Scully smiles gently, releases my hand...turns and won't take no for an answer...she heads for the loft stairs. "She who must be obeyed," I advise him, grinning. "Who am I to argue then," he replies, pushing the couch back together. He stands, faces me. His smile reaches from ear to ear. We grab his rifle, and handgun, and haul them up to the loft.

Scully swats me when I tell her she makes a cute monkey in the middle. She swats Skinner too when he agrees. She jokes about feeling like she's in a valley between two mountains. We threaten to tickle her feet and she giggles. Scully giggles and we all laugh some more.

But we know who's in charge here. Walter and I know who's setting the boundaries...the new regs...who rules in slumberland...and we're more than happy to bow to the Queen of this new territory. Why not? We're very happy subjects, content and more at peace then we've been in a very long time.

Nevertheless...sleep doesn't claim us right away and I know it's because this is new too...this arrangement. So we talk...plan for tomorrow...what to do next...learning something that we knew all along but maybe never acknowledged...that united we're a formidable force...together we persevere...together...we survive...and...there are no more hidden agendas between us, no...inhibitions...no envy or ill will indeed. I drift off to sleep, my hand over Scully's middle, my arm touching Walter's large hand where it splays out over her hip. And I can say...that night no one has a nightmare and after that...if we do...we don't remember them.

xXx

In the early morning Walter is rousted from a sound sleep by suppressed laughter and the springs starting to squeak, and the bed starting to bounce as Scully rides my cock. "Morning," I stutter, laughter breaking out at last and Scully laughs too as she slowly and sensuously moves up and down...and God, I grit my teeth because it's so incredibly good. Walter's eyes track her languid movement and his ears turn red but he starts to sputter and then...laughs like hell. No more...secrets or lies. Nothing to hide...nothing to ever be ashamed of again. We're free and...it's...it's fucking wonderful.

Skinner shifts...legs swing over the bed and his parting comment makes us both shake with laughter on top of our trembling with arousal. "I'll put the coffee on," he rumbles, chuckling. He grabs his briefs off the end of the bed, glasses off the night stand. Glasses on...and then draws his briefs up over his muscular thighs. He has to rearrange his morning hard-on before he can saunter off with that John Wayne walk thing he does. Scully gasps as she looks at his hard, muscular ass. "Breakfast's on me," she says...and I don't think she means food.

God...I would never have guessed she was this insatiable I think as I start to stroke her clit. She bites her lower lip and picks up the pace. Oh man...what a fucking view and...she pants out, "A little harder...oh yes...just...like...that," and I circle her clit, tugging a little. "Come for me...lover," I whisper. She looks down, smiles and I feel her clamp down like a vice and then moaning...back arching...I take her hips and...oh yeah she screams this time...long and high...keening that starts in her cunt somewhere and makes it to..."MULDER!" my name loud on her lips and I thrust up...and yeah...fuck...take it...take it in deep, and...only a few more thrusts, and I follow her over into ecstasy.

It occurs to me later as I watch Scully braced over the kitchen table, Walter taking her from behind that it must be the pheromones or some damn thing and you know...I don't care. We haven't had a reason to celebrate life...even think about sex since the farmhouse and now...well it's a banquet and for now, we feast and hey...yeah...I like to watch...so I went for my second cup of coffee when Scully told Walter it was 'time for breakfast'...after we'd eaten our fill of course. Brought that coffee back to the couch and watched Walter bend Scully over the kitchen table so he could rub his cock all over that luscious ass of hers, and then go down on her, on his knees behind and he ate his fill again and Scully came, crying out and rocking back into his face.

Now I'm guzzling my second cup of coffee, sitting on the couch, and Walter's filling Scully up all right. Something to be said about size, age and staying power. I could get jealous I guess if I didn't know I could make Scully scream too. So I enjoy the show...watch as Walter's big, thick cock pulls partway out and thrusts back in slowly...in and out in long, slow pumps so she can feel every inch...his hands holding her hips...soft slick sounds as they slide forward and back, forward and back...his balls swinging.

Scully looking up, her tits rubbing over the table, nipples hard from the friction and she's on her forearms then, watching me watch her, licking her lips, then mouth open as she gasps because Skinner's picking up the pace. Walter's got those great thighs and glutes, man...and can he use them...oh hell yeah.

He grunts now with each thrust gasping out, "Fuck...you feel fucking...oh God," and laughing because he can't even get out the words, and Scully laughs and it rises to a loud moan as Walter goes up on his toes...his thighs against hers...angling for support. "My God!" Scully's eyes go wide...and Walter groans...rapid, deep thrusts and Scully rocks back meeting him stroke for hard stroke...and then he roars...hoarse, guttural cry, "DDANA!" her Christian name comes unbidden out of straining throat muscles...frenzied thrusting and then Scully cries out too...all her muscles jerk at once and they move like spastic marionettes for a few blurred seconds and then....collapse together on the tabletop. I'm so entranced I don't even realize I'm beating off until I spasm and come, spilling what's left of my coffee down my shirt front.

xXx

"Jingle Bells. Santa Smells. Rudolph ran away." That gets me a snowball in the back of the head. "Mulder...it's not even Christmas yet and...that's not appropriate anyway," Scully admonishes.

Sush, sush, sush, the sound of Scully's skis coming up behind me. I grin to myself as she pulls abreast of me and then I turn and grin at her. Face framed in her hood...insulated mask covering all but her...rolling eyes and mouth mumbling "Smart-ass...just because you're getting some..." and then we both laugh.

The Lodge looms up ahead and we slide forward, poles working...as we follow Skinner. Walter's plodding forward doggedly on the snowshoes. Only thing that we found would fit him when we suited up to go out after...breakfast. You know it feels good to be clean under these clothes...and full and...satiated in more ways than one. Will make the day go easy that's for sure. We have work to do. So we glide on and catch up with Walter.

The radio goes back to the cabin first. Then...we all stare at the antenna. The roof is covered with snow. "I'll flip you for it," Walter rumbles. "It's icy," Scully muses reluctantly. "Yeah...but it's not on the peak...it's just on the office gable..." Walter comments. "I'll go," I interrupt. "I've had some experience climbing on ice," I add, glancing at Scully. Duck of her head and pensive, wistful smile. She remembers Antarctica. God...how could we forget. "You'll need something to scrape away the snow...and a screwdriver. There's a tool kit in the office," Walter advises, clearing his throat. I hand my rifle to Scully. It takes the better part of the afternoon, but...that sucker comes down. It goes back to the cabin. A quick lunch of tuna fish and canned peaches and then back to the Lodge.

The portable generator and a couple of gas cans full of fuel siphoned from the gas tank go to the cabin next. I gagged during that job. Glad we have toothpaste. The rest of the time we haul supplies...clean sheets, towels...more food...cut wood...and then...we carry the bodies down and out. Take them on the door sleds to the clearing where the other fire burned and...haul some furniture along too...big old Guy Fawkes bonfire with the bodies on top. We found their ID so when Walter says a few words he can at least use their names. James Pitt and Pamela Santos from Bismark, North Dakota, and San Diego, California, respectively. Ashes, to ashes, to ashes and...Scully crosses herself. Snow to put the fire out. Cover the bones...back to the Earth. And dusk is upon us.

Back to the cabin and...the generator goes in the pump house and the antenna gets propped against the side of the pump house for the night. Radio and microphone are set up on the sideboard in the great room. Walter uses a screwdriver from the tool kit to open it up. Pokes around, checks it out. Shrugs. Seems in one piece, dry and clean. Shuts it and says..."Tomorrow we'll see about getting it working with the antenna." I suggest, "Hook that refrigerator up too." He nods. "We'll need more extension cords," Scully calls from across the room. "Right," Walter replies. I nod and go to join Scully where she's cataloging the supplies we brought back.

Later, after a quiet dinner, we're all a little subdued. The bonfire memory of course. Lost in our own thoughts. I turn on the laptop and discover...the battery still works...and when we have the generator hooked up tomorrow we can recharge it too. Boot it up. It's got a couple of games on it...Tetris and Solitaire... along with personal files for someone named Jessie Sink. Quick look tells us Jessie was a day trader. The PC is full of stock information and personal correspondence. We delete the personal files. Leave the games. Scully and I start a Tetris competition. Walter pulls out a paperback he snagged in the lodge. He found several in the office actually. This one's 'The Hobbit'. I glance at the others where he's put them on an end table. The whole trilogy. I smile. "Ever read Tolkein before?" I ask as Scully flips Tetris pieces on the screen during her turn. "Never got around to it," he comments, adjusting his glasses. "Let me know what you think...I've read them all," I reply. "Me too," Scully adds, biting her lip to make a screen maneuver. "Really?" I ask, "Yes, all of them," she answers without missing a beat and Walter chuckles as my attempt to distract her fails. "Then we'll all discuss all of them," he replies, and then he focuses on the book and we play on.

Snoring jars my concentration as I drop the Tetris cube and it falls off kilter. I scowl and glance at my watch. Late. Walter is asleep over 'The Hobbit.' Scully's head is nodding too. I smile. "Bed," I suggest. "I'm ahead anyway," Scully blurts out, her head jerking up. "You're half asleep," I reply. "True," she nods amicably. "You want to wake 'Gandalf'? I need to use the ladies room," Scully requests with a wry smile. "Sure thing," I reply, as we both get up from our seats at the coffee table.

I shake Walter's arm. He jerks awake, swinging, I jump back. Rueful look in his brown eyes. "Sorry...force of habit," he shrugs. I nod. "You were snoring," I reply. He chuckles. "Time for bed," I add. "Definitely," he replies. We wait our turn in the can and then amble off after the 'Queen of Slumberland'.

xXx

We wake with the dawn. Eager to get to work on the radio. Nervous buzz in the air. What if...what if there are others out there...resistance. What if...we can contact them? What if...there's hope that mankind is fighting back? What if...so many what ifs. We need to find out. So...instant coffee and the rest of the canned peaches along with some ham slices on bagels for breakfast. Funny how the bagels didn't go stale. Go figure. Everything still kept cold next door for now until the fridge works.

I risk a solo trip up to the Lodge on my skis and locate some more heavy duty extension cords. Walter and Scully labor long and hard to get the antenna on the roof of the cabin. I return in time to see...in one harrowing moment...Scully falling off the roof slope...Walter standing, holding the antenna dumbstruck in horror...too far away to stop her. She lands on a snowbank, unscathed and I walk over a lot more nonchalantly than I feel and help her up. Dust off her butt. "Glad that's in one piece," I quip and the remark has its effect. Scully gives me the look and then we all laugh...but I know our hearts are beating in overdrive. I wonder for a split-second how long any one of us can dodge a bullet...injury or illness or...I shove the thought out of my mind. It doesn't pay to think about it much.

Walter manages to drill a hole in the wall and pass three extension cords through from the generator in the pump house out into the great room. One for the fridge, one for the radio and one for anything else, like the laptop. It'll do for now. We'll have to keep the generator running and when the gas runs out, that'll be it I guess. Unless we can devise something else. I crank up the generator, Scully relays to Walter as soon as it starts to purr. I join them in the front room. Walter turns the switch on...rotates the dial...static...rotates it again...static...and again...static and...channel after channel of static and...Walter quietly suggests..."Shut it down...we'll conserve the fuel for now since the stuff in the fridge is just canned goods." I nod and run back to the pump house. Not sure what we expected but...time to listen to static later I guess.

When I come back in Walter is just staring at the radio and Scully is massaging his bicep. Walter's shoulders slump. "Next time," I whisper. His head swivels and he straightens, squares his shoulders again. Scully steps back. He assumes a little of the old take control AD Walter Skinner and we let him. It will help him cope with the 'static' disappointment. "Yeah...next time. Listen...I've been thinking about the fridge. We don't really need it until warmer weather. If we ration the gas to the radio...only run it periodically we'll be able to run everything longer," he suggests. Hand on hip, hand gesturing. Scully takes his hand, squeezes it. He smiles at her. I nod. "Good idea," I reply. "I agree," Scully seconds the motion. "I'll set up a schedule," he states...and he does.

The days pass, stretch into weeks. Static on the radio makes us wonder if we'll ever hear or see anyone again but we're as philosophical as we can be about it. We still have hope you see. And...we have each other.

We spend the time in reading, talking, working to make the cabin more comfortable...making love. Walter and Scully, me and Scully...and me watching Walter and Scully and Walter finally, totally unashamed, watching Scully and me...fascinated one night when I initiate Scully into anal sex. And then one night...all three of us in bed together, Walter in front of Scully and me behind, and he enters her from the front, slowly, holding her legs up around his waist and I enter her carefully from behind, up her ass, and for a moment I stare into Walter's heavily aroused face because I can feel his cock on mine inside Scully separated only by thin inner walls of flesh and muscle and the feeling is...indescribable...and I can see him feeling it too and I can see...something in his eyes...and I know someday...if we survive long enough...I may feel that cock inside me too. And then we're moving, rocking Scully gently between us until she's crying with the ecstasy of it and we come...I don't know who first, but our united howling sounds like a fucking pack of wolves, and it's glorious.

And afterwards, later, while Walter sleeps, Scully and I stand downstairs and stargaze through the windows. I hold her close, my arm around her shoulders and I ask her..."Do you think...do you love him now too?" Thoughtful look down. I watch her profile as she muses...she looks up. "Honestly...I don't know for sure. But...I'll know it when I'm sure and I'll tell you...and him," she replies quietly and I smile and hug her tight.

Thanksgiving and Walter bags us two pheasants and I get a rabbit in the morning and we have almost a proper Thanksgiving dinner...the pheasants and rabbit roasted over the fire. God, they're good. That night, over an after-dinner bottle of wine, I initiate Walter and Scully into the wonderful world of Dungeons and Dragons. Walter's partly through the Lord of the Rings and...naturally we talk about the themes and naturally I mention Langly and...ok...I played D&D with his group a few times and we start talking about the connection between that and Tolkein and pretty soon...Walter's a wizard, and Scully's a cleric, and I'm an elf/thief, and we're using a deck of cards we found instead of dice to improvise the move, and fighting, and spell rolls, and fighting orcs, and all manner of monsters, and evil wizards, and...we played for days....and it's the best time and then...

It's Christmas Day. Scully actually catches up with Bambi at high noon so it's going to be venison haunch for Christmas dinner. After dinner we cluster around the small pine tree we cut and propped up in a corner. Erstwhile Christmas tree. It's the thought that counts I guess. We improvised little gifts for each other. Walter carved some small figures for us. God...I wonder when. But, I have a little wooden elf, and Scully a small cleric, and Walter a wizard, and...they're fantastic. I never knew he had such talent. I hand Walter and Scully each huge Cadbury chocolate bars I unearthed on one of my solo trips up to the Lodge. They're like kids when they eat them. Scully hands me a tiny envelope full of hand salted sunflower seeds and I'm so touched because I suddenly remember there were some sunflowers, the heads still heavy even in the winter snow in a small garden in back of the Lodge, and I know she must have picked out those seeds herself.

Walter gets a bottle of Napoleon Brandy that Scully said was in a lower cabinet none of us had checked in the bar. It's dusty it's so old. He shares it and we're all pleasantly buzzed. We end up in bed again, together, making slow passionate love...both of us in Scully at once again, and for the first time Walter tentatively kisses me...just a light brush of the lips...almost as if by accident but I know he's testing the waters, and I never thought...never suspected he swung that way and didn't suspect I would think I could either, and I lean into the kiss a little and he smiles shyly and then later...I wake from sleep, my arms around Scully and I hear static and then...a garbled voice and I'm up like a shot and so is Scully, joining Walter at the radio.

A far off voice...garbled. "Australia calling. This is Perth...can you hear us? Can you hear us...over. We.../blast of static/...underground.../blast of static/...I repeat, the mines...underground...and.../blast of static/. Walter takes up the microphone, thumbs the key switch. "Perth this is North America...Canada...can you hear us? Over," he shouts. "America...God...yes...come in.../blast of static/.../blast of static/.../blast/...Walter fiddles with the knob...more static and then...nothing else. But it's enough. Someone is out there...someone and there may be others closer still. Walter turns off the radio for the night and I run out and shut down the generator, and when I come back Scully and Walter are kissing and I hug them both, and we fall into bed, and laugh, and then...cuddle and fall asleep until just before dawn when we wake and want to see the sun rise. Bundle up...trundle out.

"Fantastic!" Walter exclaims. "Clear day," I add and after a couple of days of new snow it's a winter wonderland again and Scully says, "What's that?" pointing off towards the horizon and we squint to look and then we hear the rumbling. "What...the...fuck?" Walter whispers and then the world roars and the next thing I know I'm lying in the snow and my nose is bleeding because I can feel wet warmth on my lips and taste blood and I'm yelling, "SCULLY! WALTER!" in panic as the air around me roars and then everything goes bright, white, and "MULDER! WALTER!" Scully screams and I feel her hand in mine, and she's half under me, and where's Walter...and then everything's very still. "Jesus, Jesus help us," Scully whispers her voice very small. I hold her close. "Where's Walter?" I ask her looking into her shocked face. "God...I don't know," she replies, twisting under me. I roll off her...and there he is...not ten feet away, on his back, eyes opened, breathing but stunned. We crawl to him.

"Walter, are you all right?" Scully asks, feeling his neck, his wrist. Checking him all over. "Couldn't...couldn't see for a minute...but...I can now," he answers, his voice raw and hollow. "What in the living God was that?" he mumbles, turning to look at us. I look up, off to the right...see smoke and the tops of some trees bent and broken and smoldering...and I think...Tunguska and I turn back to Walter and Scully. "I think ET flunked his driver's test," I quip. Walter nods and slowly sits up. "Yeah...I thought I was nuts. Fucking huge...I saw the underside before...shit...that was no robot scout ship that was..." Walter replies, breathless, stumbling over the words. "Maybe a clone drop ship or.." Scully begins..."Or a transport," I surmise. The ground shakes suddenly and we cling to each other. We hear a far off sound of thunder. "I hope it was a clone ship," Scully murmurs as we struggle to rise. Walter and I nod. Transports would have...merchandise...frozen...but still men, women and children. Not a good thought. We make it upright and Walter wobbles. "Are you sure you're all right?" Scully asks. "Yeah, I'm fine," he coughs. But he wasn't.

Scully had a terrific headache afterwards. Walter and I took turns holding her head while she vomited from the pain. I was headachy and my ears were ringing but I was nowhere near as sick as Scully. She was laid up for about three hours and then better and finally right as rain. We thought, whew, dodged a bullet and then... Walter began to complain of a headache and then...he fell to the floor, writhing in pain. We had to drag him, moaning and then screaming in agony onto the folded out couch. I had to hold him down...and watch his glasses...get his glasses...off...while he flailed and Scully felt his head and all business...Doctor Dana Scully taking over, told me..."He's burning up, Mulder, we have to try to get his temperature down fast." And she ordered me to hold him while she soaked sheets in snow but it wasn't necessary to splay out over him because he passed out.

We didn't know what to do. No medical equipment, not even a thermometer to measure just how much he was burning up...no drugs other than Percodan, Valium, Tylenol, Pepcid AC and Amoxicillin and it was obvious this wasn't a virus...it came on too fast. So he lay for days...throwing up and...incontinent and God...we tried to get an old tarp under him and then...diapered him...he kept burning with fever on and off and...sometimes coherent...sometimes not and we had to finally tie him down with towels because he was so strong in his delirium and he struggled and yelled things like..."VC! VC! Get down!" and "Fuck you, Krycek! Fuck you!" and moaned, "I'm so sorry, Sharon," and Scully cried at one point when he whispered..."I'm so sorry about your sister, Agent Scully."

We bathed him in cold water, even packed him in snow when the fever would spike. Bundled him up when he had the chills. Tried to get water down him when he was awake, and sat with him in shifts, and ate in shifts and never talked about him dying even though it was uppermost in our minds. Slept in shifts too and...one night after I had crawled up into the loft for a couple of hours sleep I heard his voice mumbling. He must have been lucid because Scully said, "Now...don't talk that way...you...you know you're going to be all right," and then more mumbling from the couch and Scully's voice, shocked. "Walter...I can't do that." And then his coughing and mumbling again and Scully saying..."No!" quite distinctly, emphatically and then softly..."I can't...I love you now too." And later, when I came down to relieve her and he was unconscious she said he asked her to end it for him because he thought he'd never recover, and he'd be a cripple or worse...a vegetable, and a burden, and better to end it, and of course she'd said...no...and then he'd passed out again. And of course she told me she loved him. Days, and days and not once did we even bother with the radio, and then...

Sunrise, New Year's Day, 2001, and finally...Walter's last fever broke. We were ecstatic when it seemed a permanent state of affairs. We propped him up on pillows and it was the happiest New Year's Scully and I had ever had...even better than when we kissed last year. Weak but unbowed, it was obvious Walter Skinner had fight in him yet, and the first thing he did was ask for ham and black-eyed peas for the New Year's meal. I asked him if French cut green beans would do, and he smiled and said, "Yeah." Before dinner he bathed, Scully helping him while I stripped the couch-bed. Even with the tarp the mattress was history. I dragged it and the tarp out back to the trash pile. We'd burn it all later. It wasn't really needed. Since we were three in a bed the couch could stay a couch. That night, Walter would sleep with us...and he did. After a light dinner... just enough to satisfy his ham and green bean desires but not overtax his system...we bundled him to bed...put him in the middle this time and cuddled close around him and for a short time theorized about what had happened to us Christmas Day.

Scully and I had talked about it but only in fits and starts. Debating...just like in the old days. New Year's we pooled our opinions and decided that the crashing ship could have emitted a low grade EMP pulse or...something, and it quite possibly affected the nanocytes...destroying them. Walter's illness was the result of his body trying to eliminate his onboard hardware. His piss had been tinted blue and his vomit had smelled metallic. We didn't have any better explanation and we could only hope he'd be fine.

It took a while but one morning at the end of January I came back from a solo trip to the Lodge and Walter and Scully were making very noisy love in the loft, and I put a pot of hot water on the sling over the fire as had become our joke for when two of us were getting it on. Cup of coffee after instead of a cigarette. It always got a chuckle. I could look up and just see Walter's ass thrusting like hell with Scully's legs wrapped around his waist and you know...I didn't get hard or anything...just a sense of relief that he had his strength back and could get it up for her. As I was mixing the instant coffee in the kitchen area I heard Scully cry out and then after a few moments of heavy mattress bouncing Walter's loud, hoarse shout told me all was well in that department too.

Weeks passed and a month and...it was Scully's birthday and we did that up right. Can you believe I baked a cake? Yeah. German chocolate. She beat me at Tetris and we played a marathon game of D&D and she dungeon mastered and Walter and I each played two characters and we found the treasure and...we shared a bottle of wine again and that night we each made love to her, and I heard Scully tell Walter again that she loved us both, and then Walter murmur he loved us both too.

And March...and we listened to the snow melting, and the radio delivering static, and Walter talked about possibly moving on or at least reconnoitering the area to see if we can find more supplies...or survivors or any kind of resistance and...we work on stripping what we can out of the Lodge, and you know there is still a lot of supplies, and we could stay on so...we'll wait and see and...we can feel spring in the air and one night...

I'm taking a bath and Scully's gone to bed early. Long day. We went hunting for fresh meat on the hoof, or the wing, or paw just to vary our diet and we have several pheasants and quail in our new fridge. Walter cranked it up earlier now that the weather's a bit warmer. The gas seems to be holding up. Walter's talking about smoking meat or drying jerky. I called him Grizzly Adams and got the look. At any rate...Scully was beat and she was out like a light. So, I'm bathing and Walter comes in naked, toweling his fringe of hair dry since he bathed before me and he puts the damp towel over a bar and...sits on the edge of the tub and...we talk. He...clears his throat and then...fumbling...his confession of long held desire...interest in...experimenting. One last secret evidently, and I smile because he's so red and embarrassed and hesitant and...I know this is going to be it...because he says...he always wanted it to be me. And, I never...ever touched a man that way and neither had he but...we manage somehow and Christ...it's fucking wonderful.

Walter is so...it's almost overwhelming...the arousal...and he whispers "Mulder...you're so...God...please don't take this the wrong way but...you're beautiful," and I chuckle, and smile, and take his face in my hands, and...we kiss...and then it's full steam ahead. Walter's a feast for the senses...so much muscle compared to me and...I explore it all...warm...male, musk scented skin...drawn over hard work and road trip, conditioned sinew...sucking...licking...touching...tasting...both of us...he goes down between my knees...sucking my cock. God he's good at it...and then my turn and...I can't quite manage his size...gagging a little but he's so excited it doesn't matter and we end up laughing and then...

I knew he was gentle with Scully but never imagined just how gentle...but...so intense too...barely contained power and then I tell him...don't hold it back...don't...I want to feel it all and...he almost sobs in my ear, and he tells me..."I did this with women...but...tell me...tell me if it hurts," and I think...Scully will never know...asleep up in the loft ...crazy guilt for one second but it skitters away with Walter's caress on my hips when I bend over the vanity and then...and then...Walter put his cock up my ass. God, it hurt like hell at first but then, Jesus it was good, so good and...thrusting and...and...no prostate exam ever felt like that and I'm laughing with joy and so is Walter and moaning and...then I almost pass out when I come and Walter finally finishes, bellowing "GOD!" and collapsing on my back. Silence, heavy breathing and then..."I do love you, Mulder. I meant that," he whispers. "I know...I mean it too," I reply, dazed and smiling and content. When we crawl into bed, Scully mumbles, "About damn time," and we know she doesn't mean our coming to bed and we all laugh and...

April, and one morning Scully gets up and vomits. We pass it off...she's queasy but it was probably something she ate. Full day of work looking around the personal quarters of the Lodge owners just in case there are some seeds left over for the garden they obviously had out back. Scully has it in mind to start a garden if we stay on longer. We find seeds and they're still good according to the date on the packages. Green beans, tomatoes, peas, carrots, and zucchini. What the hell, worth a shot when the weather really warms up. I have a fleeting thought...we're homesteading. Gee...who'd a thunk it? I chuckle when I find the sunflower seeds. Jackpot!

Afterwards, back at the cabin...she falls into bed right after dinner...cranky and tired and...we leave her be and Walter and I have a game of Tetris and then climb into bed with her and cuddle close. In the morning she vomits again and now Walter and I are worried and so is she. "Stay in bed...it's got to be the flu," Walter pronounces. Right. Flu...and I'm thinking...it's cancer again. I can't help it. My hands shake and Walter and I talk in hushed tones while she sleeps and he's worried but...asks for symptoms and I remind him about the nosebleeds...and she's had none of course. Some relief. He thinks it's just a bug really so we stay positive. Walter mans the radio for a while...we're still getting static and I can't help but think the ship crashing at Christmas monkey wrenched the radio along with Walter. But he tries...and we still hope. I fix Scully some 'Celestial Seasonings Orange Zinger Tea' and take it up to her.

She's sitting up in bed, a hand rubbing her stomach...pensive look on her face. "Hey," I smile. She looks up at me, smiling a little. "Thank you," she says. I nod and hand her the tea. "Stomach any better?" I ask. "Yes, actually," slightly distracted answer. I feel her head as she looks at the mug of tea. "You're not feverish," I observe. "No...I'm not...no body aches either..." her voice trails off. I wrinkle my brow and when she looks up this time my heart thuds. "Mulder...I don't think this is the flu..." but her face...it..."You don't think it's cancer either, do you?" I whisper. She puts the mug of tea down on the night stand. Looks at me, her eyes fill with tears. "No, Mulder...I think I'm pregnant." I just stare at her and then..."What?" I whisper. "I think I'm going to have a baby," she repeats. "Ok...I thought...I thought that's what you said. But Scully...how...I mean...shit I know how but...well...you know what I mean," I bluster...completely at a loss. She takes a breath, lets it out and then..."You'd better get Walter," and I nod and leave her side.

"You think you're what?" Walter blurts out when she delivers the news. We go through the drill and he sits down on the edge of the bed, speechless. "I know I was sterile," she begins. "But at Christmas...after that ship passed over...I had that terrible headache...in the back of my neck really...here," she rubs where the chip is embedded and realization takes Walter and I at the same time and we glance at each other. "You think it...what...tweaked the chip?" I ask. "Yes...I think...somehow it did and...I ovulated as a result, so guys...one of you is about to be...a father. I'm...I'm sorry," she finishes, looking down. "But...you...you didn't bleed," Walter rumbles...ears reddening a little. "How can you be so sure?" I ask, still bewildered. She looks at us, her eyes swimming in tears. "This sounds so stupid but...I just...know. Maybe I only ovulated once and one of you...well I never menstruated because we caught things before that could happen. And...the vomiting feels just like what my mother said morning sickness was like and...I feel different...full...here," she murmurs, touching her stomach.

"God," I whisper. I reach for her hand and Walter moves close and touches her knee, his large hand gripping it. She looks up at us both. "Don't ever say you're sorry," Walter rumbles, stroking her skin. I nod emphatically. Her lips tremble. "I'm so afraid," she whispers. Moment of weakness, and we've hardly ever seen her show it, and Walter and I draw her close and hug her while she quietly cries. "It'll be ok. We'll get through this just like we've gotten through everything else," I babble. "Rest...we'll talk about things later...get some sleep," Walter adds. She nods. "Drink some tea first," I suggest. She wipes her eyes, smiles. The tea goes down and she goes under the covers. "I'm not an invalid, you know," she bristles finally sounding more like the old Scully as I tuck her in. Walter stands at the foot of the bed. "I know...but...you've put in a day and puked your guts up this morning. I think you're entitled to some downtime," I chide her. "Yes, we'll put you back to work tomorrow, Agent Scully...don't worry," Walter chuckles. She gives us the look and we know we'd better let her pull her weight or else. She curls back up and we go back downstairs.

Walter and I have a bourbon each. We need it. Both of us sit and stare at each other...shock. I venture a question I don't want to ask but I do anyway. "I...I know you and Sharon were childless...uh...not that I want to be...presumptuous but..." he raises a hand to stop my inquiry, lowers it when I shut my mouth. "Sharon had trouble...conceiving. When she did, she lost the baby late in the pregnancy and it was....very difficult. She miscarried early twice after that. We went to a specialist to find out what was wrong. The problem was her unfortunately. It...the situation was partly responsible for our marriage failing. At any rate, my fish swim fine," he explains. "I assume they still do," he adds with a shrug. So there's a 50-50 chance I guess. Good...maybe it's Walter. Does it matter? Would I have preferred it was Walter or not? My genetics...well I'm ambiguous about saddling some poor kid with them given what I know about my parentage now. But...well...no, it doesn't matter...it's going to happen...there's no question...no debate about this baby being born and shit...you know...I'm scared but...it's a shared fear and I voice my response and then Walter echoes my thoughts.

"Ah," I nod. "I'm really sorry...about Sharon I mean." He nods. "Thank you...it was...a long time ago," he replies, his voice caught on the memory. We're silent for a few minutes. Then, throat clearing again. "And you?" he asks. My brow furrows for a second and then I'm honest. "I have no idea...I always used protection before...so...no clue. I assume I'm fertile," I shrug as well. He nods again and speaks quietly. "It doesn't matter anyway. The kid's going to have two dads and one hell of a mom in my opinion. Which one of us is the father is a moot point," he replies, reaching for his bourbon again. "I think you're absolutely right," I smile back at him. Raise my glass. Toast. To Scully. God bless her and the baby both and...

The months pass and oh yeah, Scully's pregnant all right. Her stomach swells, and her tits too, and she becomes incredibly beautiful even though she thinks she's a cow and says so in moments of self-doubt. We cater to her...shamelessly. Make sure she eats right...exercises...she wants to kill us at times but we laugh and then so does she.

And...amazing to me...her libido increases which I gather from Walter's practical knowledge can be the case, and we both make love with her very carefully, and she's so responsive, and afterwards we rub her stomach and talk to the baby. Boy or girl? Scully wants a baby...she doesn't care about gender...just so it's healthy. I suspect Walter wants a boy but won't admit to it. I had a dream...I dreamt it was a little girl with brown hair and...I know it's a Samantha fantasy and the thought should bother me but it doesn't. I decide healthy is the best bet and whatever the stork brings will be fine as well.

One day we're sitting on the couch talking as I'm rubbing her belly and I have a bizarre...and gut churning thought...and voice it because she sees my furrowed brow, and asks, and by now I know better than not to speak up. "What if it's twins?" I blurt out. Quick rueful snort of laughter. "God...I hope not," she laughs. "Can we tell without a stethoscope?" Walter chimes in from across the room. He's on the radio again...ears like a fucking bat though. Turns in his chair...concern on his face. Scully ponders. "Get me a glass," she tells Walter. He complies, bringing it over and she pulls her collar down...places the glass on her chest ...the open end against her skin. "Listen," she tells me. I put my ear to the glass' base and do. "Hear my heartbeat?" she asks. "Yeah...sounds like a steady drumming," I smile. She grins a little. "Ok...now..." she replies, pulling at her shirt. Up comes the end and I put the shot glass on her swollen stomach as requested. "Listen carefully...move it around...listen for my heartbeat and then...the baby's," she instructs quietly. Silence...I slide the glass around and around and then I hear it...tiny beating drum and...only one heartbeat besides Scully's...I think. Walter stands by in anticipation. I double-check. "I'm pretty sure I only hear one baby beat," I state, pulling the glass away. Lips on stomach then I mumble against Scully's skin. "Hey in there...Mulder to baby...how's it going?" and something pokes my cheek and I rear back, eyes wide. Walter laughs. I watch and something...a little hand maybe pokes out at me from Scully's belly. "Man...the kid's giving me the finger already," I quip and Walter slaps me on the back and Scully laughs and...

Life goes on. One afternoon Walter and I are outside putting together what should be our smoke house. It ain't easy... we have only a limited number of nails so we're resorting to a hand drill and wooden pegs too. We're taking apart one of the unusable cabins for the wood. Kind of scaling one down. It's coming along...and I'm surprised I'm as good with the saw as I am. Walter's hammering and suddenly Scully's shouting from the cabin, and we run in, and she's sitting in front of the radio and it's not static, it's a voice, and it's saying..."Pierre, South Dakota...this is Pierre...come in if you hear us...come in please..." and the signal is very weak and Scully thumbs the mike and shouts "Pierre...this is Canada...near Winnipeg...we hear you. Over!" And then a real answer. "Thank God...Canada...I can barely hear you. We're here...some of us are here...some of us are alive...and we're fighting back...my name is Roger Whitcomb. Over," the voice calls. "Roger...my name is Dana Scully...how many of you are there? Over," Scully answers. "Repeat the name...I'm sorry...can't...hear you. We're 400 strong...and growing...where are you exactly....we...damn it...running out of juice...stay on this chan..." and the signal goes to static. "Shit," Walter curses and Scully shuts her eyes and bends her head. I put my hand on her shoulder and slap Walter on the back. "Hey...that's as close as we've gotten," and then we all smile and we know we'll keep checking, tuned to Pierre, South Dakota.

And even as she grows larger and starts to waddle around like a duck...her words, not ours...Scully still pulls her weight. The garden becomes hers...planting...weeding...watering...and she swears she'll harvest too and I expect she'll try at least...she's determined to do it up right...although we do chip in. But she's down on her knees even if we have to help her up and it's remarkable...Scully has a green thumb. The garden thrives and so does she...the pregnancy suits her and we're very glad.

She sleeps a lot too though...needs her rest and we insist on it. "Get off your feet, put them up," Walter orders, old AD voice. Her feet swell and it helps to elevate them. She bridles but after he rubs her feet for her she sighs with contentment and no more complaining. We tuck her into bed and then...Walter and I make love on the couch, as quietly as we can and I fuck him face to face, my cock right up that wonderfully tight ass and he comes hard...jerking, groaning and spurting cum between us. And when I come it's deep inside him and I struggle to keep my eyes open, locked with his and I don't even know how to describe the feeling of what his eyes look like when he watches me. We crawl back into bed and Scully nuzzles Walter and mumbles she can smell me on him, and he chuckles, and tells her he was well fucked, and I chuckle too.

Continued in Part 2
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