TITLE: Triple Counterpoint - Part 3

I unbuckle my seat belt and then so does she. We turn and face each other as best we can in the confines of our seats.

Sitting here across from Scully I'm suddenly aware of the fact that we haven't spent much time alone together up until now. Our first weekend in Crossroads, that weekend in her apartment and this trip are the longest periods we've been together without anyone else joining us. Oh sure, we lifted weights together but I don't count those sessions. Those were all business really. We were concentrating on a goal there and didn't want to make a lot of small-talk so someone got distracted and then got hurt. So, we haven't had a lot of time to just interact as a couple. I think besides the issue floating between us there's still some awkwardness about getting to know each other on a personal level. God, when I think what could have happened after Scully was shot and the fact that I'd never get an opportunity to get to know her more fully...well I don't even want to think about it.

But the fact that we haven't really had a chance to talk to each other over deeper issues all that often makes this moment hard for me and I suspect hard for Scully as well. I guess we finally grew close enough and got over the boss and employee issues well enough to be intimate with each other. Oh yeah, I know I let my hormones tell me what to do before maybe either of us got to know each other as well as we should. Hell...I guess maybe Scully did the same thing when it comes right down to it. Well, whatever. It's all water under the bridge. We grew close enough to make love. Close enough to fall in love really...although I was too confused to realize that part of it evidently. I have no regrets and I sure as hell think it's wonderful that we're together now. I know I was confused but I was wrong to doubt. High time I remedy the mistake.

Oh yeah, it's time for the remedy. Otherwise I think we could revert back to the way she used to view me. For a long time, Scully didn't trust me. She had good reason not to under the circumstances. I didn't come across as very trustworthy and I can't blame her for being distrustful of my motivations and actions. We're over that part of the trust issue now at least. I know she trusts me on many levels where my integrity and support are concerned and that's helping a great deal to make me want to insure that she can always trust me and never has to worry about my not being on her and Mulder's side again.

So, in connection with that idea, I don't want what happened with my confusion over our relationship to foster new ideas of mistrust in me. Mistrust for what we have on a personal level. I just couldn't stand to have that happen now that I do know I love her.

"Walter, is this about what happened in New York and with Kersh? Because if it is I..."

"No...its doesn't really have anything to do with Kersh or New York, although maybe what happened to you in New York finally made me come to my senses. And God help me...that shouldn't have been the case either. How incredibly crass that I'd have to wait until you were half dead to tell you..."

I let my voice trail off for a moment to get myself under control. Scully remains silent for a few seconds, her expression one of expectation mixed with worry. When I don't speak she does and her voice is softly compassionate.

"It's...it's all right. Go on. I'm...just go on," she murmurs.

I nod and continue, taking a deep breath.

"What I'm trying to say is...it...it has to do with me, Scully, not Kersh and not New York. Dana...I've done you a disservice and I really want to get this off my chest before we go any further. I'd like to explain," I reply, studying her face.

"This is what you wanted to discuss with me all along then?" she asks in a soft voice.

"Yeah. I...this is something that's been eating me for a while...since...since the weekend I spent with you at your apartment," I reply.

"The...the night I told you I loved you and...and you told me you loved me?" she replies in a hushed voice.

I take her hand and squeeze it in mine, capturing her eyes at the same time.

"Dana...I want to tell you right up front...I do love you. I...I just have to be honest and say that for a while I wasn't at all sure I did. I was confused and my treatment of you was way off base. I distanced myself from you while I doubted my feelings. It was an unjust thing for me to do. I can hardly tell you how disgusted I was with myself to think I told you I loved you like that and then later asked myself if I really did. I can't tell you how sorry I am that I questioned that fact in my heart. But now I can tell you that from the bottom of my heart...from the depths of my soul I do love you. I hope...I hope you can forgive me for cutting you off, making you worry and...well for all of it. For waiting until you were almost taken from us to...to wake up. I'm just so sorry," I finish, letting go of her hand. She reaches for my right hand again and takes it gently in hers.

"This is because you were still confused over your sexuality? That you didn't understand how you could want a woman again and that you possibly preferred Mulder after all?" she queries, watching my face.

"Exactly. I...I kept telling myself that maybe what was developing between you and me was like Sharon again. That I was trying to find...an escape valve for the fact that I didn't want to deal with my homosexuality. The whole deal about 'the love of a good woman would make me go straight'. Plus there was that thing about doing this for Mulder...you know...we did talk about that idea..."

"Right...yes...I...yes we did," she murmurs, stroking my fingers.

"After a while I didn't know which end was up...I...I was still trying to deal with coming out to my mother...introducing Mulder to my family...ah shit...I don't know. It was just a big ball of wrong and all I can tell you is I'm glad my damn confusion and indecision is over and I hope to hell you can try to understand and that you don't tell me you're turning the Jeep back to DC. Because quite frankly, I wouldn't blame you if you did," I finish with a sigh.

I look down at our entwined hands. I'm suddenly filled with a rush of hope. She's still holding my hand. If she was going to lower the boom I'd think she would have dropped it like a hot potato. But instead she lifts my hand to her lips, kisses my knuckles and then slowly lets my hands go. I pull it back and rest both my hands on my knees as she puts her hand in her lap and then speaks.

"First of all...I know I told you that I had doubts as to whether I loved you as well, remember? That night in my apartment, I told you there were a myriad of reasons why I wasn't sure I should or could ever love you," she begins.

"Yes, I remember. But...but once you decided you were sure," I reply, nodding.

"Yes I was sure. I...I knew I loved you and Mulder both. I...sometimes I still think it's incredible that I can but...I do and I have no regrets or doubts about it...I didn't that night and I don't now. But...I can understand doubting. God, I agonized in doubt before Crossroads and immediately after we were together there as well I guess. So, I know about confusion and doubt, oh yes. I just didn't know you were still having doubts," she adds, intensely.

I nod not knowing what to say for a second. Then I speak and stumble through my reasoning. It sounds lame even to my ears as I utter the words. But the words are meant to be sincere. I just can't tell her enough how sorry I am.

"I...I did...and I...I know it's probably small comfort but I am truly and profoundly sorry I had any doubts at all," I finally manage to get out. God damn, I feel like crawling under the seat as I look into her intelligent blue eyes. She's trying to understand, I can tell. But she's hurt and I feel like a total heel for causing her pain. Fuck me. I shake my head in self-disgust.

She waits for a moment and when I don't speak again she continues.

"I suspected something was wrong. It was obvious that you were avoiding me. I have to tell you a lot went through my mind before I went to New York as to why. I wanted to believe you were just playing it safe while Kersh was scrutinizing us so closely. But...even when we did have an occasion to schedule something together you...well something would come up and we'd have to cancel. I began to worry."

"God...I...that's terrible," I mumble, looking out through the windshield.

"Well...it didn't make me feel very good, no," she admits.

"I would imagine," I reply, swallowing and looking at her again.

Her face is still calm and she continues.

"I didn't have any idea what was wrong, Walter. I thought maybe you were just troubled over having to deal with your family as you said earlier. I thought 'well he's an AD, he's busy'...you know...all the typical things you start to think when a guy is going to dump you. And, Walter...I've been dumped before. I know the signs...I began to think..."

"God, Scully...dump you? Good Christ...I...I had no idea that was going through your mind. I should have though, shouldn't I? I mean what else would you conclude from the way I was acting? Damn it to hell. I wouldn't blame you if you hated me after this and never wanted to see me again," I blurt out, my voice rough with emotion.

"Walter...I love you. Of course I want to see you again...I want...I want us to be together...alone and with Mulder...in every way. But what I'm getting at here is...don't either of you ever not discuss something with me when it impacts me directly again...understand? This is what happens when any of us fail to do it. We end up hurting each other. I can forgive your doubting what you felt given your circumstances. I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't because I doubted my love for you too. I'm not sure what I would have done if you'd come to me and told me you had doubts after you said you loved me. But, we could have at least talked about it, reasoned it out maybe. If you'd talked about it, I might have been able to help you. So, Walter, you need to talk to me about this kind of thing. What I won't tolerate is being left in the dark when something so critical involves our relationship," she states matter-of-factly.

"Scully...I respect that completely. I know I was way out of line in excluding you. I keep telling myself that if I'd gone to you in the beginning maybe we wouldn't be having this conversation now," I reply sincerely.

"Look...I understand there are going to be things you confide in Mulder about or...or someone like your pastor, even your family, which you don't confide in me about. I mean we all may find ourselves in circumstances where that occurs," she explains further. "I don't have a problem with that idea at all."

"Right. God knows you probably don't want to know what my mother said about the arts council meeting in Ambler. The political ins and outs of the arts league aren't exactly a hot topic for general discussion," I reply wryly.

Scully smiles a little.

"And I know you don't want to hear about my mother trying to convince Frohike that it's too soon to publish yet another article about Elvis's whereabouts..." she begins.

"Uh, yes I think we can safely say I'd be disinterested in that topic of conversation," I interject.

"There you go," she replies.

"Also...I don't talk to Mulder about what you and I do uh...when we're together in bed and..." I start to add, warming to the subject.

"Exactly. None of us are in the habit of kissing and telling," she interjects. "Although I know a certain federal agent who wouldn't mind hearing the details," she adds, her mouth twitching into another smile.

I chuckle as well and a little of the tension in the air dissipates.

"I hear you...but I've told him I don't talk about that kind of thing...and I know you two don't either."

"Yes, he's enough of a gentleman to respect our wishes there too. He doesn't talk about you two either," she smiles a little to assure me.

"But we do need to communicate better," I reply, running a hand up under my glasses, I rub my eyes briefly, adjust my glasses again and focus on Scully's face again. "You shouldn't feel like we've left you out for any reason when the issues affect you."

"That's all I ask, Walter. And to be honest...even I need to be more forthcoming...more honest with what I observe and how it makes me feel. I...I should have told you I suspected there was something wrong and given you an opportunity to admit it instead of just letting things lie. I also should have jerked Mulder's chain this morning when I suspected he was going to Connecticut. So, I think we all need to be more up front with each other. Maybe...maybe we can make that one of the goals for this weekend. To just be more open and to discuss being more communicative."

"Oh yeah...I agree. We'll make sure we talk...no problem."

"All right," she nods.

We stare at each other for a moment and then I take her hands again.

"Dana...I love you. I say again...I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?" I ask her formerly.

"Walter...I love and forgive you," she answers simply, smiling gently at me. I pull her close and kiss her tenderly on the lips.

When I pull back she touches my cheek.

"I swear to God, I'll never leave you out of my life again," I add with vehemence. Her eyes brighten a little with unshed tears and I pull her close again and hug her awkwardly as we stretch between the seats. I nuzzle her hair and she wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me on the cheek.

"I won't leave you out either," she whispers.

When we finally separate both of us are a bit flustered. We smooth out our clothing and I hand her some Kleenex from one of the packages I keep in the glove compartment. I wipe my eyes as well while she wipes hers and then blows her nose.

Both of us try to pretend we weren't crying and then we give up and laugh about it. Scully tosses her used Kleenexes into the trash bag attached to the dash.

"I bet I look like hell," she chuckles, smoothing her hair back at last.

I toss my Kleenex in after hers and smooth my hair down as well. She reaches over and fiddles with the back of my collar, straightening it out. I take her hand and kiss her wrist.

"Never," I smile. And then, as my lips touch her wrist, something else rises up instantly into my mind. Sure...why not now, I think. Now seems like as good a time as any...maybe the perfect time. I move back and lower her arm, smiling.

I did bring something else with me to give her besides the Jeep keys. Ever since I was sure I loved her and I'd look in the mirror and see the symbol of Mulder and my love, I wanted to give Scully something from my heart. A gift that, like the medallion Mulder gave me, would symbolize how I feel for her and the love we share. I was taking it on faith that during this trip I'd still have the opportunity to give her the gift.

So, I mulled the idea over as to what to give her. I thought of a ring at first but Mulder confided in me that his Christmas gift to her this year will be a ring - not an engagement ring per se, but a ring that will have special significance between them. He's been searching for a long time for just the right ring and finally opted to have it custom made by an artisan that he found through Dennis and Phil. So, the ring is in process. I saw the design. It's exquisite and I think Scully will be thrilled to receive it.

At any rate, a ring was out as a result of Mulder's plans. I decided on a bracelet instead. Once I decided, I had to come up with one that would be unique. Her necklace is gold and the ring Mulder is having made will be gold, so gold seemed like a good choice. Mulder's foresight in consulting Dennis and Phil made good sense as well so I did the same thing. Rather than send me to the man Mulder was using to make Scully's ring they sent me to a woman craftsman they knew since she was between commissions. She worked up several designs and I finally chose one. The bracelet was completed two days ago and I picked it up. Now it's in my overnight bag in back of the Jeep.

"I have something I want to show you," I inform her, smiling wider.

"What?" she asks curious, one brow raising up slightly.

"Hang on...open the hatch," I reply indicating the button on the dash.

"The hatch?" she asks really puzzled now.

"Yeah...I need to get to my bags," I reply, reaching for the passenger side door.

"All...right," she replies, giving me a skeptical look. I chuckle as she complies, unlock the passenger side door and exit. As I walk back towards the trunk I hear her get out as well.

"Hey now...get back in...this is a surprise," I call back over my shoulder as she stands by the driver's side door.

"Ok...but I think you'd better drive after this..." she replies, laughing a little. I can tell she's puzzled but curious and a little excited as well. She walks around the front of the Jeep so as to avoid seeing what I'm doing as I rummage through my bag. I find the wrapped box fairly quickly. Scully gets in on the passenger side and closes the door. I take the box in hand, shut the hatch and then hold the box behind my back as I walk back to the driver's side door.

When I stick my head in, Scully speaks.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot to adjust the seat," she advises and then she laughs and so do I.

"I'll have you know I'm trying really hard to stick to your earlier admonishment about vertically challenged comments," I reply, giving her a grin as I move the seat back.

"Thank you," she replies, getting herself under control.

"You're welcome," I reply as I climb into the driver's seat and shut the door behind me. She gets a glimpse of the box as I fumble with the driver's side door.

I turn and look into her face again and she looks at me shyly now. Well, she has to know I have something to give her by this point. She's modest and always a little flustered when someone does something kind for her. She's pleased by it all, she's just a little overwhelmed I think. That's how I read her at Christmas anyway, when Mulder gave her the earrings. As she looks at me in anticipation, I extend my hand without preamble.

"Here, this...this is for you," I state quietly, proffering the box towards her. She looks at my face and then down at the box and takes it silently from my hand. She begins to carefully pull at the ribbon around it.

"I...I wanted to give you this at some point during the trip...that is if you were still intending to...uh...stay in our part of the relationship after our talk," I explain, clearing my throat.

She stops unwrapping for a moment and looks back up at me, smiling.

"No danger there now," she whispers. I smile back at her and she bows her head over the box again. Scully's a careful gift 'unwrapper' I see. She puts the bow and ribbon aside and then takes the paper apart next. The paper goes on the dashboard next to the ribbon. Finally she hesitates just briefly and then opens the box. I watch her forehead as she looks down at my gift. I watch as her hand comes up to her mouth.

"God...Walter...I...this is beautiful," she whispers around her fingertips where they've touched her lips.

"It's for a beautiful person that I love very much," I reply. "Should I...would you let me put it on you?" I ask carefully.

"Oh yes...please," she replies softly. I reach forward and lift the bracelet out of the box. Scully places the box aside on the dash as well and extends her left wrist.

"Better put it on over here...uh...not on my gun hand," she adds practically. Then she gives me a wistful smile and my heart almost breaks in two. I take her hand in mine and steady it.

"I'm not very good at this really," I comment as I try to maneuver my large hands, the bracelet and her small hand in order to get the bracelet clasped. "My hands are like baseball mitts or...boxing gloves," I add, giving her a sheepish twitch of my lips.

"You're managing fine," she assures me with love in her voice. I finally manage to get the bracelet clasped and we both move back for a second to look at it.

The jeweler who crafted the bracelet created a Celtic knot pattern as the base for the design. So a delicate golden band of Celtic knots now adorns Scully's left wrist. A portion of the band, the part that lies on top of her wrist is inlaid with a mixture of diamonds, amethyst and alexandrite. Amethyst is the traditional birthstone for Scully's February birthday. Alexandrite is the traditional birthstone for my birthday in June. I wanted something that symbolized us together and the birthstone motif appealed to me. The design looks good in the sunlight streaming through the windshield. Great in fact. The jeweler did a magnificent job. I look in Scully's eyes and the pleasure I see there tells me she thinks so as well.

"It's so...Walter, it's wonderful. These are amethysts, I know but these are...what?"

"Alexandrite."

"Oh yes. That's...the birthstone for...these are our birthstones," she observes looking up into my eyes.

"Yeah. I decided that might be appropriate," I reply, smiling. She smiles back and fingers the stones briefly.

"Alexandrite...that's....that's very appropriate for you," she whispers looking up at me again.

"You know the origin of the name then?" I ask her, touching her wrist and rubbing her pulse point. Her breath quickens slightly as she replies.

"Yes...it owes its name to the fact that it was discovered in the Urals in 1831 on the day Alexander the second of Russia reached his majority," she replies trying to keep her voice as business-like as possible and failing in the attempt.

"Very good, Agent Scully," I rumble, staring intently into her eyes and stroking he wrist and then into her palm.

She swallows hard.

"If you keep doing that much longer I can't be held responsible for my actions...sir. There may be a terrible breach of protocol on my part and we'll end up putting on a show for the entire highway," she warns, her breath coming raggedly.

I chuckle and glance out onto the highway, releasing her hand. I'm surprised a state police cruiser hasn't stopped here quite frankly. Usually some well-meaning traveler uses their cell phone to notify the state officers about a disabled vehicle

if they spot it in the breakdown area. But so far we've been lucky. No troopers have pulled in.

"Then I guess I'd better cease and desist. We wouldn't want to...breach protocol."

"Not here at least," she replies, huskily.

"Not here...no," I reply, pulling back slightly and adjusting my position in my seat. My cock's half hard and I shift to make things more tolerable as Scully regains her composure.

We both smile at each other and she touches my arm gently acknowledging the promise that later we will indeed breach protocol quite lustily. I feel marginally more confident in dealing with that eventuality. Knowing she's as hot for me goes a long way to helping me there.

Scully looks down at the bracelet again.

"Walter...I just don't know what to say. It's an incredibly sweet gift. Thank you...thank you so much," she states reddening a little further in emotion.

"You don't have to say anything else, Dana. Wear it in health and happiness," I reply quietly.

She nods and I straighten further.

"We'd better get going before a state trooper does his duty and checks up on us," I advise, reaching to buckle my seat belt again.

"Oh, no kidding. I don't feel like having to identify ourselves as FBI agents. I really would prefer not to have to think about work right at this moment," she replies, with a sigh. She reaches for the seat belt as well and straps herself in again.

"Me either," I reply. "And Dana?" I ask, looking at her again before I turn the ignition.

"Yes?"

"Thanks...thanks for being so understanding."

"Thank you for admitting everything to me, Walter. I know it was hard. I really appreciate your integrity in telling me. I...I think we'll be a lot more open now and that's what counts," she replies, patting my thigh. I lay my hand over hers for a moment.

"I know it's what counts," I affirm, releasing her hand.

We quickly clear the dashboard. Scully puts the ribbon and the box from the gift in her purse. The paper goes in the trash bag attached to the dash.

Finally, we're ready to go and I turn the ignition and put the Jeep in drive. I take my foot off the brake and as Scully fingers her bracelet again, I give the Jeep some gas and pull carefully back out onto the Interstate for the rest of the drive to Crossroads.

xXx

Thursday, September 16, 1999. 5 PM. Outside Teena Mulder's House. Greenwich, Connecticut.

I can not believe I'm staking out my mother's house. But I am. Yes, indeed. I got here around 4:30, marched up to the door, rang the bell and when I got no answer, knocked loudly. After making my hand ache I thought to check the garage by looking in the small side window. No car. So, I figured she was out and decided to wait for her.

I pulled my car out of her driveway and parked about a half block down and across the street. I can see her front door and driveway clearly. She's not going to get past my eagle eye. No sir. God. Well at any rate, I'm here and as soon as Teena shows I'll get out of the car and try to head her off before she even gets in the house.

I slouch way down in the front seat and break open another sunflower seed with my teeth. I spit the hull out the window. The tiny black husk sails in an arc and disappears from my sight, blending in with the pavement before I can tell where it lands. I chew the meat, fascinated at the visual phenomenon and reach for another seed from the bag on the seat next to me.

I'm performing the same act, staring at the arcing hull as it flies from my mouth when my mother's car drives past me. Her car wheels pass close enough that my eyes are finally drawn to where almost every sunflower seed shell I spit out came to rest. They're all crushed under her tires as I follow the progress of her Buick past me. I look up and see her white-haired head framed in the car's back window. She didn't notice me at all I guess. Her back is straight and she's looking off to the left in order to make the turn into her driveway.

As her car pulls in, I straighten up, grab my keys out of the ignition and open the Olds driver's side door. I climb out quickly, shut the door and lock the car with the keychain remote. As I pocket the keys the garage door on my mother's garage begins to raise. Oh shit...she must have had an automatic garage door opener installed at last. I shove the keys into my trench coat pocket and take off, jogging across the street towards the open garage door.

My mother's out of the car now, and at the trunk, opening it. She takes a bag of groceries out. I see two more brown bags inside the truck as I hurry up the driveway.

"Here, let me help you with that, Mom," I call as she lifts the second of the three bags from the trunk. She nearly drops the load as I reach her side and take one of the bags from her. Her face is stunned for a moment and then she speaks.

"Fox! What...is something wrong? Why...What are you doing here on a work day?" she asks, her voice trembling.

"Nothing's wrong. I just took the afternoon off. I...I wanted to spend some time with my best girl, that's all. So...uh...here I am," I smile brightly at her. My stomach is jumping hoops as I watch her face. "Would you like to go out to dinner?" I add hopefully.

"Oh my...well...uh...actually this is dinner," she smiles at me, indicating the bags we're holding. A loaf of Italian bread is poking out of the top of the one she holds.

"Oh. Well...were you expecting company?" I ask, glancing into the bag I'm holding. It contains the makings for an antipasto salad. Between this and the other bag there's enough for two meals here.

"Oh no. This is silly but I just had a sudden taste for spaghetti with an antipasto salad like Mrs. Bellini in Chilmark used to make. I still have her recipe for that salad. I was going to make both for dinner. God, I don't know what I was thinking though. You know how hard it is to make spaghetti for one and this is way too much for just me anyway. Why...why don't you come in, Fox. You could help me eat all this food," she replies her voice still a little tremulous.

I can tell, however, that she's sincere. Something in her expression and bearing tells me my mother is trying to make a gesture here and my heart fills with optimism. I smile and reach into the trunk to retrieve the other bag. There's ice cream in this one. I straighten back up and reply, my voice a little hoarse with emotion.

"Spaghetti? You've got yourself a dinner guest. And thanks, Mom...I...thanks for inviting me."

"I have some of that Starbucks coffee you like too. The kind you gave me that time," she replies shyly.

"You're gonna spoil me, Mom," I grin at her as she walks towards the side garage door. She depresses a small switch next to the door and the large garage door begins to close. I shut the car's trunk and join her at the side door. She looks up at me.

"That's what mothers are for, to spoil their children," she whispers. As I watch, she moves one hand away from the grocery bag she carries and touches my right hand where I grip my bags. It's a quick, soft caress but the warmth reaches my soul.

"We need to talk, Mom," I whisper as she pulls her hand back and looks up into my eyes.

"I guess we do, Fox. I...I guess we do," she replies softly.

xXx

Thursday, September 16, 1999. 5:30 PM. Dragon's Roost. Crossroads, Maine.

"Yeah, Dennis mailed me the keys," I tell Scully as I pull the Jeep into the driveway at Dragon's Roost.

"Ah. You know, their loaning us the house was just so nice of them, Walter" she observes. "I really will have to write them a thank you note. I'd like to get together with them again sometime as well. They were a lot of fun."

"I owe them big time. I think that re-roofing job next summer has another set of hands volunteering to help for sure," I reply, braking the Jeep.

Scully had just got done postulating that Dennis or Phil must have mailed me the house keys as we drove up to Dragon's Roost. We made pretty good time getting to Crossroads after our discussion in the breakdown area. It's not too late at all and enough daylight was left to show us that Crossroads hadn't changed since we were last here. We drove through the center of town on the way to Dragon's Roost, and although most of the stores were closed, two bars, a Chinese restaurant, an Italian restaurant and a grocery store we passed were still open and busy.

"Maybe I'll offer to help as well," Scully replies, grinning a little as I put the Jeep in park and cut the ignition.

"Hey...the way you wield a hammer they'd probably jump at the offer," I reply, unbuckling my seat belt. "No fear of heights I take it?"

"No problem at all," she nods, unbuckling her belt as well.

I smile at her.

"I think coming up here next summer would be great. We'll mention it to them," I reply quietly.

We stare at each other for a moment, and I know we're both savoring our memories of the deck construction and our time with Dennis and Phil this past summer. God that was a good time too - even if I did slice the hell out of my leg and Scully and I were struggling not to act on our attraction for each other. The end of the trip was phenomenal with her and Mulder and I together. I reach over to stroke Scully's cheek and her stomach growls loudly. I bark a laugh and pull my hand back.

"God, excuse me," Scully comments, a look of chagrin on her face. "I'm sorry."

"I guess we'd better unload and then get something to eat," I reply, chuckling. "Would you like to eat in town, order in, or scrounge something up from the Dragon's Roost larder?"

"Hmmm. I don't know. Should we risk going back into town? I wouldn't mind some Italian food if you'd think it would be all right to go in to that little restaurant."

I consider the idea for a moment. You know...I'm really sick of hiding out, ordering delivery, trying to make sure we aren't seen around too much. I'm tired of going to some noisy dance bar where the crowd's so huge no one can distinguish us from the next couple too. All that gets old with Mulder even though we do allow ourselves the occasional foray to Club 219. It's getting old with Scully as well. For just once I'd like to go somewhere with one of my lovers where we could just be ourselves as much as possible. Go out and not worry about the repercussions. So...what the hell. Why not? We'll do it tonight...maybe just the once this weekend and then eat in the rest of the time.

I smile at Scully and nod.

"Yeah...why not? I'm tired of hiding out. If we're discreet I think we can risk it. Let's go for it."

"Yes, eating alone together is nice but sometimes...sometimes I'd just like to go to a restaurant with you. I'd like to do that with Mulder too for that matter. Eat out with him and not have it be during a case I mean."

"Exactly," I nod.

"So, great, let's do it. I'll help you unload the Jeep," she replies enthusiastically.

"You bet," I reply decisively.

I pop the hatch in back and both of us exit the SUV. It's a little chilly tonight so both of us reach into the car again to pull out our jackets and don them. Scully leaves her purse on the front seat for the moment. I stuff the car keys into my jacket pocket temporarily. They have the house keys attached but I want them out of the way while we grab the luggage. Then we proceed to the Jeep's rear to take our bags out. Each of us takes our garment bags first and then Scully takes her carry-on out as well.

"Can you manage all that?" I ask her, eyeing up the two bags.

She raises her eyebrows at me.

"Yes, I did get in quite a bit of weightlifting before I was shot after all. Remarkably, my body seems to have remembered it," she replies wryly.

I make a noise of agreement in my throat and lock up the Jeep. We turn to walk up to the house. Scully follows me and when we reach the door I fish around in my coat pocket with my free hand and retrieve the keys. I start to unlock the door and see an envelope taped securely to the door knocker.

"Hey, the guys left us a note," I comment, turning to Scully.

"Oh?" she replies.

"Yes," I reply, setting down my garment bag. Scully sets her luggage down as well as I pull the envelope off.

Both our names are on the outside, I smile. Walter and Dana are printed in Dennis' neat handwriting. I open the envelope, take a folded piece of paper out and hand the envelope to Scully so she can see the front with our names. She smiles as well. I open the folded paper and read it aloud so she can also hear the message.

//September 14, 1999

Dear Walter and Dana:

Welcome again to Dragon's Roost. Consider this your home while you stay the weekend. We've left the fridge well stocked and in case it turns cold enough - there's cut wood for the fire. We've also included a little something special for you both. You'll find it on the kitchen table. Enjoy.

We're off to Europe. We'll be in Paris for the days you're at Dragon's Roost. We have a number of galleries we want to see there. At any rate, we've written the phone number for the hotel where we're staying on the bottom of this note. If you have any problems or questions feel free to call. We've also included our cell phone numbers as well.

Have a wonderful time. I'm glad this worked out. You can either mail the keys back or leave them on the kitchen table...your choice. Oh, and listen also - when we get back we'd love to see you two, and Mulder as well if you could all manage coming up together sometime. Until then, take care.

Your friends,

Dennis and Phil//

I finish reading and fold the letter back up.

"How...how kind," Scully whispers.

"Yeah...they're just great guys," I reply quietly. "Hey, we'd better get inside. It's cold enough to start that fire I think."

"We'll probably need to turn the thermostat up too," Scully observes.

"Good point," I reply as I tuck the note into my jacket pocket. I use the keys to unlock the front door. Taking the knob, I push the door open and then both of us pick up our bags and hustle them inside.

Scully sets her bags down and so do I. I step forward and turn on the hall light. The sun started to set and the hallway is in shadow.

"I'll get the door," she volunteers.

"I'm on the thermostat," I reply, nodding.

The thermostat is in the central hallway leading to the kitchen and the guest bedroom as I recall. I walk down the hall, find it and see that yes, Dennis and Phil had turned it down to 60. I turn it up to 70 for starters. I then turn around and walk back down to the entryway area as Scully is just coming out of the living room after turning on a couple of lamps in there.

"So...um...where should we..." she begins, glancing at her bags and then she lets her voice trail off.

"Uh..." I start to reply, looking down into her face.

Ok. Does she assume I want her to take the same bedroom? Maybe she doesn't. I mean I want her to sleep with me...as in sleep not just go to bed to have sex. But maybe she's not assuming anything here and thinks I should come right out and declare my intentions. I wasn't assuming either to be honest. Otherwise I would have just probably taken her luggage in and walked upstairs to the master bedroom with it. Then again maybe she's just assuming we shouldn't use the master bedroom...ah fuck it. I should just ask. After all, I guess here's where we can start communicating better.

"You think we shouldn't use the master bedroom?" I query, watching her face. "I mean...one of us shouldn't use the master bedroom? Sorry...what I'm trying to say is..."

She chuckles and I stop and then laugh a little as well, running a hand over the back of my neck.

"Walter...I guess I should go ahead and practice what I preach. Well, to be honest, I am debating on whether we should use Dennis and Phil's bedroom. I'm open to opinion there for sure. But...I never didn't consider sleeping with you. I mean my idea was we'd share a bed so...uh...if that's agreeable we can debate which bedroom," Scully replies straightforwardly.

I laugh.

"Christ, I'm glad one of us could come to the point here. God," I reply, shaking my head in self-deprecation. "You'll have to excuse me while I rid myself of 16 year old Walter Skinner again. There still seems to be a bit of a learning curve where he's concerned," I add.

She giggles a little.

"Well like I said - it's kind of sweet actually. Don't worry about it, Walter. Now...which bedroom?" Scully replies, smiling.

"Well the note said consider this our home. So, I vote for the master bedroom. It's got a bigger bed," I reply, grinning at her.

"Bigger bed? Is that a...suggestion...innuendo...hint?" Scully replies huskily.

"It's...indirect communication," I reply, teasing her, my voice rough with the implications of what I'd like to do in that bigger bed later.

"Oh...well...later you can explain it more...directly," she replies, her expression telling me she's with the program for sure.

"Believe it," I reply.

She grins at me as well and then moves towards the luggage.

"Let's get this stuff upstairs and then go get some food. Oh...and see what Dennis and Phil left us in the kitchen."

"Yeah, I'm curious about that myself. Sounds like a plan. We'll take these up and then I'll go back out for my overnight bag. I can get your purse as well," I reply as she picks up her bags. I pick up my garment bag.

"Why thank you," she smiles. "I guess we can unpack the suitcases later," she suggests.

"Yeah. I'm starving too," I reply, chuckling.

Scully walks to the stairs and starts to ascend to the second floor. I follow her up.

Later, when I return from locking up the Jeep with my other bag and Scully's purse, she's still in the master bathroom freshening up. I put my bag next to Scully's bag where she left it on the bed. We hung the garment bags up in the closet in a vacant space we discovered Dennis and Phil had made for us. There was a note on the dresser as well. "Two of the larger drawers are empty since we packed for the trip. Help yourselves," the note read. So, I guess they figured we'd be using the master bedroom after all. Lastly we decided to leave our weapons behind as well. Theoretically we're supposed to be on duty and armed at all times but tonight...well tonight we're not thinking of the Bureau or our duties to be frank. So, the guns are staying in our luggage back at the house.

I leave the bedside and walk over to the bathroom door just as Scully is coming out.

"All yours," she comments, touching my jacket sleeve briefly as I move past her.

"Thanks," I reply, entering the bathroom and shutting the door. I do see Scully took out her toiletries and placed them on the vanity. I'll unpack mine when we get back. I walk over to the toilet, lift the seats up and then unzip my fly. I reach in and take my dick out, holding it in hand as I aim. As I piss I run my free hand over my chin and feel the beard stubble. Hell. Maybe I should shave. No...it would take too much time and I do think both of us are really hungry at this point. Better to get into Crossroads.

I finish up, shake off and rearrange myself in my jeans, zipping up my fly. I flush the toilet and start to go wash my hands. Then I smile to myself, walk back and lower both seats back down. Man I know I'd hear about that if Scully came in here and fell in. Christ. I walk over to the sink, wash my hands and face, smooth down what hair I have left and exit the bathroom.

"Ready?" I ask Scully. She's running a brush through her hair one last time in front of Dennis and Phil's dresser mirror. I watch for a moment as she draws the brush through her soft, copper tresses. The bracelet I gave her glints in the light from the overhead light. There's something incredibly sensual about a woman brushing her hair. I feel warmth pooling in my groin as I watch her. Then my stomach growls and I laugh.

"I guess we both are," Scully replies, laughing as well.

"Yeah, let's get the hell out of here before we pass out from starvation," I reply wryly.

Scully puts her jacket on, takes her purse and we head downstairs after turning off the bedroom lights.

In the hallway downstairs Scully speaks just as I'm preparing to open the door.

"Oh...the surprise," she says, glancing back at the kitchen.

"Oh yeah. You still want to check it out...or do you want to wait until we get back?" I ask.

"Let's look now. I'll wonder all through dinner," she replies, her eyes dancing.

I smile and nod. She looks so...God...she looks so free and alive right now. Despite everything Scully's been through, when we've been alone she really does let the inner Scully out. Inside the professional, hard-nosed FBI agent there really still is a wonderfully alive and vivacious person. She must have guarded and preserved that part of herself through the years of trials and tribulations. I admire her for being able to do it. I wasn't successful at doing it. But...I'm learning to and a lot of what I used to be is coming back...with Scully and with Mulder.

"Yeah. I'll be in suspense too. Let's go take a look," I reply gesturing with my head towards the kitchen. "You first," I add, grinning.

Her smile widens and she walks quickly off towards the kitchen. I follow, smiling as she hurries forward.

As we enter the kitchen, it's dark of course. Scully looks to her left, seeming to remember the location, as I do, of the overhead light switch.

"I'll get it," I tell her and she walks forward into the semi-darkened room as I flip the switch.

The room is bathed in light and our eyes are drawn immediately to the kitchen table and the champagne bucket that sits in the middle.

"Oh...my..." Scully exclaims unable to say anything else.

The bucket's wrapped with a huge multicolored iridescent bow and is filled with a bottle of champagne and what looks like...tins of oysters, clams, caviar...and...God...a bunch of other stuff. Both of us walk over to the table and stare at it.

"Damn..." I reply amazed, pleasure in my voice. I whistle, picking up the caviar. "This is incredible."

There are crackers as well and a few small scented candles to set a romantic mood too.

"There's another note," Scully observes, reaching forward and plucking the note out of the bucket. I set down the caviar and watch as she opens the little envelope. She raises her brow a little as she reads the card inside but it clears quickly and she grins as she starts to read the note aloud.

//Here's just a little something to help make your weekend more special. Don't do anything we wouldn't do...and there's something in the red box that will come in especially handy just in case. Cheers! Den and Phil//

"Red box?" I asked confused for a second.

"Oh, that one I guess," Scully replies, setting the note down on the table. Underneath the tins of oysters is a red box. I reach forward and pull it out. It's a box with just a lid and no wrapping so I open it.

"Uh..." I stammer when I look inside.

"What?" Scully asks, curious. She cranes forward to look.

I tip the box for her to see inside because I know I can't do anything else now that I've opened it. The box contains another box inside it. A 12 pack box of Trojan condoms.

"Scully...I..." I begin but she interrupts me.

"It's all right," she declares instantly. "It's a nice gesture..."

"Well they...they're trying to be...health conscious," I reply, cringing inwardly.

"Yes, of course," she replies softly, staring at the box.

God damn it. Well...Dennis and Phil were trying to be helpful. They had no idea that condoms are unnecessary between Scully and I and that the reason isn't just because we're both clean. I'm sure they might have even figured we both were STD free being that we get routine and rather stringent physicals. But they had no idea that Scully's sterile so they probably figured they'd supply us with the condoms as a courtesy in case we ran out and didn't want to be seen buying them in the store.

But still...this...this stinks, I think as I look down on Scully's slightly bowed head. I put the lid back on the box and set the box on the table. Shit.

"I should chill this champagne," I state not knowing what else to say. I don't want to draw any more attention to the issue. I take the bottle out of the bucket.

"Oh...good idea. We should save it for when Mulder gets here," Scully replies, looking up again. She gives me a small wistful smile and I touch her arm.

"All right. I'll be right back," I add softly.

She nods and I cross to the refrigerator. I open the door and fit the bottle in easily between some skim milk and a container of cottage cheese. When I shut the door I feel her arms snake around my waist. I turn in her arms and hug her to me.

"Walter...it's all right...really. Ok? I...I cope with it," she whispers into my chest as I caress her hair.

"We'll have to talk about...coping with it sometime, Dana. I...if you want to talk about it I'm here," I reply quietly.

She nods against me and then moves back, still holding my hands in hers.

"Come on, Batman. Let's go eat," she suggests, smiling warmly up into my eyes.

"To the Batmobile," I reply gently, squeezing her hands as a single tear trails down her cheek.

xXx

Thursday, September 16, 1999. 7:00 PM. Teena Mulder's house. Greenwich, Connecticut.

"So, should I do the test?" I ask my mother as she peers into the pot of pasta.

"Oh, Fox," she laughs. "No...oh...come on now," she adds as I take some pasta out of the boiling water with a wooden spoon. I fling the pasta and it smacks into the wall next to the stove, landing with a wet 'plotch'. It sticks quite nicely and I turn to my mother with a huge grin.

"Done!" I proclaim and she bubbles with laughter.

"I can't believe you remembered that...it was so long ago," she adds, getting herself under control.

"How could I forget Mrs. Bellini's time honored method for testing pasta," I reply chuckling. "I'll never forget the first time I did that when you were cooking pasta. I thought you were going to fall over."

"I know...you were about 10 and Samantha..." she begins and then stops suddenly. I wince as she turns away and busies herself with turning the gas off under the boiling pot of spaghetti noodles. "I was rather outraged about the spot it left on the wallpaper," she finishes quietly.

"Yeah, I forgot you were supposed to test it on painted walls only," I reply with forced joviality, pointedly ignoring her demeanor.

"Yes," she nods, smiling at me softly.

"Gheez, speaking of spots...I'd better clean that one off," I suggest, gesturing at the noodles still adhering to the wall nearby. She nods and I reach for a paper towel and the sponge from the sink.

Oh man...there are so many memories that are just too hard to share anymore I think as I flick the noodles off the wall and onto the paper towel. As my mother drains the pasta in a colander I swab the spot where the noodles were stuck with the damp sponge. The antipasto salads are on the sideboard and the spaghetti meat sauce, courtesy of Ragu, is already done on the stove. The kitchen table is set and the Italian bread cut, both courtesy of moi. So, I guess we're doing ok, all things considered.

Yeah, despite the emotional family land-mines, things have gone well so far. I haven't brought up any heavy issues regarding my sexuality yet but my mother has seemed unusually receptive to listening to me make small-talk. Yes, she listened and responded while I told her about work - well, the edited version of work anyway. She even listened while I talked about the Knicks and the Redskins.

She's been chatty herself also, telling me about the ceramics class she's taking as well as the idea that she wants to enroll in a class for learning the PC this winter. If we can just not dwell on Samantha and the past too much tonight this might actually be a pleasant visit for a change and she may finally be ready to hear what I have to say. I've definitely decided to just tell her I'm in love with a man for now. I won't tell her it's Walter unless she really presses me. If she does we're going to have to deal with that eventuality I guess. Maybe it's one of those things she'll decide she can't remember. We'll...we'll just have to see. In the meantime I'll wait for the opportune moment and tackle the subject.

"I think we're ready to eat," my mother pronounces. "Would you take the salads over to the table, Fox?"

"Sure," I answer and I turn to pick up the plates from the sideboard.

xXx

"Would you like another cup of coffee, Fox?" my mother asks as I put my ice cream bowl in the dishwasher.

"Great...uh...how about you pour yourself a cup and join me in the living room?" I suggest, shutting the dishwasher door.

"That would be fine. Go on in and I'll bring both cups," she suggests. I nod and leave her side as she goes to the cupboard.

We didn't talk much during dinner. I guess I got nervous and she wasn't going to encourage me to discuss what by now she knows is inevitable. Besides, I discovered as soon as I sat down to eat that I was famished and I ate like a starving dog, seldom coming up for air much less pointed conversation.

But now we had our ice cream and time's run out. Coffee and the conversation of the century coming up. I go into the living room, and wander around for a few seconds. She's changed the furniture around again. I have to wonder who the hell moves it for her. Well I did once during a weekend visit. But she's changed it again since then. Moving furniture takes more than one person. God. I hope she'd tell me if she was seeing someone. My mind doesn't really want to go down that path but it does and I find myself checking the ashtrays around the living room as my mother comes in with a tray.

"Fox?" she asks quizzically as I straighten up from examining the ashtray on the end table.

"Oh, let me get that," I state, moving forward to take the tray from her. "I was just observing that you moved the furniture again," I add, placing the tray with the coffee cups, cream and sugar down on the coffee table. I sit down on the couch and my mother takes a seat in the large overstuffed chair immediately at the end of the coffee table. I shift the tray closer to her and she starts to put cream and sugar into her cup.

"Yes, I did," she replies as I pick my cup up and lean back into the couch cushions. "When your aunt was down on her last visit she helped me. You should have seen us trying to shove that couch around. But we managed it. I think I'll leave it this way for a while though. I think I'm finally satisfied with the arrangement."

I nod and take a sip of my coffee. We both sip for a few moments in silence and then she clears her throat.

"I know why you came here today, Fox. I...I didn't think it was just to take me to dinner although I do appreciate the gesture," she begins.

Ok. Opening salvo. I guess that makes it more easy. I straighten up and put my cup on the coffee table. I notice she's holding hers really tight. Her knuckles are white. Oh brother. Here we go, deep, dark, turbulent waters ahead. I take a deep breath and plunge in.

"You're right, I did come here to talk as I said. Mom...I know this is difficult but I just have to get it off my chest and hope that...that you'll understand the choice I've made in my life and respect it. I'm not saying you have to approve. I'm just asking for you to try to understand, I guess," I reply, moving a little closer to where she's sitting.

She bows her head and places her cup on the coffee table as well. When she looks back up I can see her face is tense but not as tense as I was expecting. She sighs and answers me, looking down again at her hands as she speaks.

"Fox...look. I understand you're happy now that you've...you've met someone and fallen in love. I don't have a problem with accepting that you'd one day have that happen. I'm not one of these mothers who smother their sons and don't expect them to move out on their own and find someone to spend the rest of their life with. But...I envisioned a wife...not...not what you're telling me," she replies in a small voice. "Grandchildren...I was...well...I was looking forward to that, Fox," she replies. "Selfish or not...I was looking to the day I could hold your son or daughter in my arms..." she adds, letting her voice trail off.

I feel anger rise instantly into my chest. I bite my tongue to stop from blurting out what I really feel in my guts. The violence of my anger, the bitterness frightens me and I hurriedly take a couple of deep breaths and count to ten before I speak.

I want to scream at her. 'No, you didn't smother me, you bitch. You abandoned me emotionally after Samantha was taken. You let my father abuse me mentally and once in a while physically, and you couldn't wait for me to move out on my own. And grandchildren? Oh yeah right. Hey, maybe this is the perfect time to tell you about the woman in my life too. Yup - I'm in love with my partner, Dana Scully, too. Oh, but oops, yeah, I forgot....no bambinos there either - Scully's sterile. Sorry.

Besides, what makes you think I'd ever want to have children after the sterling example of parenting supplied by you and Dad? Dad? Yeah, which one I still ask myself too. I don't even feel qualified to have kids much less raise them thanks to my doubting my own parentage.

And if I did have kids I'm sure you'd hope for a little girl so you could have Samantha back. Selfish? You're the Queen of Selfish right along with being the Queen of Denial. I should ask you right now which man you fucked to get me and if I have a damn half brother that's fucking me over back at the J. Edgar Hoover building.

I shut my eyes as my mind spins in vitriol. I can't let that all out now. No way. I have to try to view this through her eyes. She was a very confused and desperate woman years ago. She lived among lies, half lies and truths she hoped eventually were lies. My father as well as that cigarette smoking bastard used her, played her like a piano, so she's as much a victim in this as Sam or I were as well. No matter who my father is I'm not sure it matters because I think I was conceived in a climate of lies anyway - so either choice of father-figure isn't much of a choice in my opinion.

Mom's had a stroke as well. Her faculties don't seem to be impaired but I'm not completely sure. Her doctors have said she's in good health and recovered from the episode but there's a possibility she may have lingering effects that aren't as obvious or show up in stressful situations. There are so many things she doesn't remember. Can I be completely sure her mind is the same? It's not fair to rail at her over things that may be only hazy memories at best. No, I can't castigate her for her persistent insistence that she can't recall this fact or that fact. It's not fair if she really is suffering memory loss. I guess I should give her the benefit of the doubt until I find out otherwise. Yes, I should give her a break I guess, especially when I want her to listen to me and respect my viewpoint at this juncture. I still my thoughts, pitch my voice low and try to project as much empathy as I can towards my mother as I open my eyes and respond.

"Mom...I know. I...I don't know what else to say. I've fallen in love with a man. I guess I'm going to be a disappointment in the grandchild department unless of course we adopt or...well...I can't guarantee anything there," I reply shrugging. "But, Mom, I am happy. I'm more happy then I have been in years and I just wish...I wish you'd be able to appreciate that and think it's a good thing," I add, watching her face.

She lifts her head to face me again, a look of bewilderment in her eyes.

"Fox, I always wanted you to be happy. I...I never wanted anything else for you," she replies.

Um. Ok. I guess it looks as though she believes that idea. I run my hand over my mouth and then I respond, capturing her eyes.

"But you'd rather I wasn't happy with a man," I reply as neutrally as I can.

"I don't understand it, no. I...I don't pretend to understand homosexuality. Oh I know the general views on it, the...uh scientific and religious viewpoints on it. I...Fox, I just never envisioned you as...as gay. I don't know how else to put it."

"Why, because I didn't bring home my boyfriends? Or maybe you think gay guys parade around the house in a dress or..."

"Fox!" she exclaims, shocked.

"All right...I...that was something I shouldn't have said. But you know...homosexuals don't have the word stamped on their forehead, Mom..."

"But, Fox, you're my son...wouldn't I have....have noticed when you were younger..."

"Yeah, well you might have noticed if you'd paid any attention to me after the night Sam..." I start to interrupt, my voice rising as I blurt out the words. I stop speaking instantly when I realize what I've said. It's too late though. My mother has her hand over her mouth and her eyes are huge.

"Mom...I...I'm sorry..." I backpedal, desperate to apologize as quickly as I can.

"So am I..." she whispers.

I shut my eyes for a moment and when I open them she's getting up.

"Mom?"

"Fox, please..." she begins, fumbling and then bumping into the end table as she stands and then tries to walk away.

"Mom!" I exclaim rising quickly to catch her as she loses her balance. I stop her from falling, pull her close and hug her tight. She's crying and I run my hand through her hair as she rests her head on my chest.

"I'm so sorry...I...I didn't mean to say that, Mom. Really. I'm sorry," I murmur, the tears welling up in my eyes.

"Fox, I'm just so confused...so...I just don't know anymore..." she sobs against my shirt.

"I know...it's...it's all right. Why don't I fix you another cup of coffee and we'll...we'll puzzle it out together, ok? I didn't mean to shout at you. Let's start over and I promise not to lose my temper again."

"All right. Would you like some more ice cream too?" she mumbles in my arms.

"Sure. Uh...let's go in and get it together."

"All right," she repeats again.

I stroke her hair one more time, give her a final hug and then release her from my embrace.

xXx

Thursday, September 16, 1999. 10:00 PM. Gabella's Italian Restaurant. Crossroads, Maine.

"Sorry we had to park so far away," I tell Scully as we stand outside the Italian restaurant. "I'll go get the Jeep," I add.

"Oh, no, let's walk. It's not too chilly. I'd like to stretch my legs after that meal," she replies, smiling at me.

I rub my stomach theatrically.

"I hear you. I'm going to have to make sure I run tomorrow morning. I'll need to burn off the calories."

"It was good though, wasn't it?" she chuckles.

"Oh yeah...I'd say so," I reply, dropping my hand and putting both hands in my pants pockets. "You won't be cold?" I ask her as she buttons her jacket up.

"No, really, it's refreshing," she replies.

"All right then," I nod, taking my right hand out of my pocket and extending it towards her. She smiles and takes my hand.

"Oh...it's nice and warm," she observes glancing down.

"Yeah, I put my hands in my pockets. That's something...uh...something I used to do with Sharon on a chilly night. It's just a hell of a lot more comfortable to hold a warm hand on a cold night."

"I like that idea. I'll have to remember it," she replies, smiling again.

I nod, feeling rather pleased with myself and we leave the doorway and start to walk up the street hand in hand.

Dinner was a really great experience even if we did have to wait a short time in the bar until we were seated. Once we got to the table however, the waiter was there promptly and took our order. The food didn't take long to get to the table either.

I had veal scaloppini and Scully had linguini in clam sauce. Both meals were prepared to perfection. Scully tasted my scaloppini after she inquired if it was good. In the spirit of investigation you understand she said. I tasted Scully's linguini in return. She had a fit of the giggles when some of the clam sauce ran down my chin and I almost knocked my wine over trying to get my napkin up to stop it from dripping onto my sweater.

We went light on the wine, one glass apiece because we were driving back to Dragon's Roost, of course. Scully had spumoni for dessert. I ended up sharing it with her because her eyes were bigger than her stomach and she was already rather full from the main course.

The atmosphere in the restaurant was quaint and intimate with candles and fresh flowers on the tables and in the booths that were scattered along the walls. The booths had high-backed seats. We ended up in a booth so we had a little more privacy. It was one of the most pleasant evenings out I've spent in a long time. We just talked small-talk again but this time it was about when we were kids.

Scully told me about moving from base to base as a Navy brat and how hard it was to make friends. I told her how I was basically a loner as a kid and didn't make friends easily either - except for those few wonderful summers on Judge's Point. I found myself telling her all about those days and building the tree house. I recounted swimming and fishing off the dock at the summer house as well as endless games of hide and seek and touch football. After a while I realized I was doing all the talking, cleared my throat, and apologized for monopolizing the time. Scully said that was fine...she was enjoying herself too much to even think about interrupting me. Her gentle smile and compassionate gaze told me she was telling the truth. I made her promise that during the weekend she'd tell me more about herself and she said she would.

The restaurant was crowded when we arrived but the crowd thinned as we ate our meal. We lingered on because we were just enjoying each other's company so much. Finally, coffees consumed, dessert finished off, we both reached for the bill simultaneously and laughed about it. We ended up tossing a coin for the tab and I lost. I paid in cash and we left the restaurant.

As we walk back towards the Jeep we spot a small crowd ahead out in front of the grocery store. The store still seems to be open but the crowd has gathered to hear a violinist who's set up a little further down from the store entrance. The slight, bespeckled, dark-haired violinist is little more than a boy - I'd say the kid's about 14 tops but he's playing beautifully. His violin case sits at his feet, open, and it's full of change.

"Walter...he's fantastic!" Scully exclaims, her breath steaming out in little puffs.

"Yes...he's very good," I reply. "You want to go listen?" I add smiling.

"Yes. Let's," she replies, pulling me towards the crowd. She walks forward and with me behind her, we cut a small space for ourselves so we can hear the young man play. Scully stands in front of me and after a moment, I put my arms around her waist and she rests her body back against mine.

The music is sweet, soaring and poignant as the dark-haired musician draws his bow over the strings. I don't recognize the composer or the piece. Whatever it is though, it's beautiful. As I listen my eyes are drawn for a moment to the front of the grocery. I smile and leaning down whisper in Scully's ear.

"I'll be right back. Stay here," I rumble.

She looks at me, raising an eyebrow in confusion but I smile to assure her and leave her side, backing out through the crowd. I stride over to the grocery store entrance and stop in front of the stands of freshly cut flowers that are on display. As I examine some of the flowers, an elderly man comes out of the store.

"Oh...good evening," he addresses me. He's small, with white hair and an Irish accent so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"I was just admiring your flowers. It's nice to see them at this time of year," I reply.

"Ah, they're beautiful, aren't they? My son has a greenhouse and florist business. We get the flowers fresh from him daily. I was just about to bring them in for the night. Are you interested in some?"

"Yes. Uh...I'd like some for the woman with me. She's listening to the street musician," I reply with a small smile and a gesture back into the crowd.

"The street musician's my grandson, Davie," the old man beams.

"He's very talented," I reply. "Exceptional."

"Why thank you, sir," he answers, proudly. "Flowers for your lady love you say? Now, would that be the lass with the red hair? Oh yes, I noticed her...an Irish lass if I ever saw one," he replies, smiling.

"That's right. And yes...she is of Irish descent," I reply, smiling at his good humor.

"I thought so. Sir...you're a lucky man. She's beautiful. Take anything you see here with my blessings. Beauty such as hers is beyond price anyway," the old man replies.

"I couldn't..." I begin.

"Nonsense, take it and give her a kiss for me," he laughs.

"All right. Thank you," I chuckle. I pick out a small bouquet of tea roses. Delicate, red and pink roses to compliment Scully's complexion. The old man nods his approval.

"Very good choice. Now go on with you...and enjoy," he prompts and then he picks up one of the flower stands and returns to the inside of the store with it.

I shake my head and grin as I hold the flowers behind my back and head into the crowd again to find Scully. I locate her easily because she stayed in about the same spot. I snake one arm around her waist and we stand side by side as the violinist finishes the piece. He finally ceases to play, takes a small bow and apparently that's the end of the show for the night. We all pull change out of our pockets and toss it into the violin case as the crowd disperses. The musician folds up his case filled with his earnings, tucks his violin and bow under his arm, and walks off towards the grocery store.

Scully watches him walk away and then she turns to face me. Finally she notices that I have one hand behind my back. She cranes to look and I move away slightly so she still can't see what I'm holding. She feints to one side and I do a quick feint in the same direction. She starts to laugh. I pull out the flowers and she stops laughing instantly.

"Oh...they're...they're lovely. You went back to the grocery," she whispers, taking the flowers from my hand.

"Yes. I thought I saw you admiring the flowers as we passed the door. So..." I reply, giving her a smile and a little shrug.

"You're spoiling me," she replies softly, smiling as well.

"Well...I...it's..." I venture and then I let my voice fade. I don't know what to say for a moment under her suddenly soft blue eyes. She speaks for me.

"It's very kind...and...romantic...and something that a man with a kind heart, and beautiful soul would do. Thank you, Walter. You make me feel very special," she replies, looking down shyly into the flowers.

"You're welcome, Scully. You...you make me feel human again," I reply, looking down at the pavement.

When I look back up she captures my eyes and it's as if the whole world stops around us. I know people are walking by on the sidewalk but I don't see or hear them. The only thing I see is Scully and the only thing I hear is the sound of our breathing. Then I see our breath as it ghosts from our mouths almost in unison in the chilly night air. Without heed for the consequences, without real conscious thought to be truthful, I move close, cup Scully's face gently in my hands and kiss her. Her lips taste like spumoni and warm fall wine and rosebuds and...like heaven.

It's a brief, but intense kiss, and when we part, I whisper in her ear.

"We're going to have to stop meeting like this, Agent Scully," I tell her, my voice hoarse with barely controlled passion.

"Yes, sir. It's a...a...that terrible breach of protocol I was referring to earlier," she whispers, slightly breathless.

"I agree. Uh...we'd better take this back to Dragon's Roost," I reply straightening.

"Definitely," she murmurs, smoothing her hair back behind her ears. I watch her compose herself further and then I smile, and extend my hand to her again. She takes my hand and we walk the rest of the way to the Jeep.

xXx

Thursday, September 16, 1999. 11:00 PM. Teena Mulder's house. Greenwich, Connecticut.

"I love you, Fox. I'm...I'm glad we talked," Mother tells me sleepily. "And I'm sorry I just...I just got so tired."

"I love you too, Mom. It was good we talked. And it's ok. I should get some sleep too. Good night now. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night. Sleep tight," she replies, muzzily.

"Don't let the bed bugs bite. I remember when you used to say that to me," I respond softly.

"You remember so much, Fox..." my mother replies, her voice fading.

"Yeah, I guess I do. Sweet dreams, Mom," I reply, but I'm not sure she hears me.

I stand in the doorway to my mother's bedroom and watch as she falls asleep, curled into a fetal position in her bed. I watch until her breathing evens out and I know she's no longer awake.

I sigh, shut the door and leave her to whatever dreams she dreams tonight, sweet or otherwise.

God, I'm tired too. Emotional exhaustion is making me almost stagger back downstairs like a denizen from a George Romero movie. Yeah, like that guy lurching around in the graveyard in 'Night of the Living Dead'. 'Watch out Teena, they're coming to get you!' Ah shit. Watch it, Mulder...'you'll' be dreaming about crap that isn't sweet at all again if you're not careful.

My mother insisted I stay the night after I told her I was taking a really long weekend and my luggage was in the car anyway. I guess I should stay here. I don't really trust myself to drive to a hotel. I drag my sorry ass into the living room and stand next to the couch. I stare off into space for a few seconds. My jacket is over the back of the couch. I tap the pocket, find my cell phone and take it out, laying it on the coffee table. I take off my weapon, and my belt as well, and place both on the coffee table next to the cell phone. Then I slowly take out my wallet, ID and spare change, laying all of that on the coffee table next to the rest of my accessories.

Lastly, I pull off my watch. I turn it slightly, running a finger over the date inside. Walter...God...I really miss him and Scully right now, I think as I finally lay the watch on the coffee table. I turn and slump down on the couch, sitting there in order to take my shoes off. I slip them off and line them up underneath the coffee table. Finally I lie back, still fully dressed and study the ceiling, considering what transpired over two more cups of coffee and a second bowl of ironically but appropriately named, Rocky Road ice cream.

Well, maybe we made some strides towards understanding here tonight. There were a lot of tears, and yeah, some shouting on both our parts even though we tried to control ourselves.

My mother is, at last, beginning to realize I really am happy. My talking about my feelings and how good I felt being with my partner finally seemed to get through. I guess maybe she does really want what's best for me. She said that several times during the conversation. So, this first step is accomplished. I'll let her get used to the idea and then later...when I think she's ready, I'll discuss Scully and Walter and the concept of our three way relationship. If she's ever ready. God knows...maybe the rest will just become one of many things that remain undisclosed between us.

There are a lot of unspoken issues between Mom and me which may remain unspoken but I think after tonight she can at least acknowledge in my presence that she knows I'm involved with another man. She may not completely approve but she's also not going to show disrespect by avoiding the matter or pretending it's not true. That's all I can ask right now. As for the rest, the other things we don't talk about besides the special relationship I'm in? Well...we may never speak of them. I can hope but I have no expectations. After all, she may truly not or ever remember so it's all quite possibly a moot point anyway. And for her own safety - maybe I'm glad she doesn't remember.

Also, under the safety idea - she didn't want to know my partner's identity. So, Walter's name never came up and I guess I won't be inviting him to Greenwich for any holidays. So be it. I'm rather glad actually because yes, the risk to all of us makes it advisable that she doesn't know his name or see him either. Oh she did want to know something about him. Like whether he was a bum or not i.e. out for my money. I just told her the man I was in love with was a little older than me, had a well-paying job plus his own independent means of support since his family came from money.

Wouldn't do to have Teena worrying that some gold digging young hustler got his hooks into her boy in order to get his fortune now would it? The fact that Walter isn't expecting me to support him seemed to allay some of her qualms as well. Trust Teena to think of the financial angle. But you know...with all the crap she's had to go through with the lawyers over Dad's estate I can't blame her I guess. She wants us both to not have any money worries. And who wants more legal hassles if you can avoid them.

So, the upshot of the whole discussion was my mom will learn to live with having a gay son as long as I'm happy, Walter treats me right and she doesn't have to tell anyone else a thing about it. I can live with that too I guess. After all, it's really no one's friggin' business as Walter would say. It would have been nice to include Teena in our lives at some level but...she's not there in so many ways as it is I guess it won't ruin the bell curve or disrupt the status quo on that situation. I sigh one more time and turn on my side, tucking my knees up since her couch isn't quite as accommodating as my own.

As I fall asleep my last waking thoughts are of Scully, Walter and Crossroads. I hope everything is going well there. I just have a feeling that they're having a great time. I'm trying to stay positive about their rendezvous at Dragon's Roost. I yawn, send good thoughts their way and then drift off to the sound of the living room mantle clock ticking.

xXx

Thursday, September 16, 1999. 11:00 PM. Dragon's Roost. Crossroads, Maine.

Scully and I stand in the entryway after we return to Dragon's Roost, taking our jackets off and hanging them in the hall closet. I offered to hang her coat up first

and she smiled and handed me the flowers while she took it off. We exchanged coats for flowers and I hung her coat up. While I took my coat off she advised me that she was going to the kitchen to find a vase for the roses. I watched her receding back as she left the pool of light in the entryway and proceeded down the darker hallway into the kitchen. When the kitchen lights flicked on, I turned around and retrieved a second vacant hanger from the closet.

We drove back in silence. Scully was staring out the window for the most part but every once in a while she would touch the roses, fingering them or she'd smell them and smile a little. Once I caught her fingering her bracelet as well.

I concentrated on the road because it was difficult to concentrate just then and I didn't want to put the Jeep in a ditch.

I think both of us were surprised by the intensity of our emotions and maybe a little shocked at our foolhardiness at kissing on a public street like we did. Yeah...for the first time in a long time I lost complete control over my actions in public. And you know what...it felt fucking good. From the look in Scully's eyes I knew it felt damn good to her too.

Besides the shock at losing control and taking a risk the kiss had an unexpected side-effect. It also made us nervous about what's probably going to happen next. Ok. We've been teasing each other on and off during the trip so far, right? But now we're getting down to the wire here. We're back at home base, we're alone and the bed's upstairs. Time to put your libido where your mouth is, ladies and gentlemen...and it looks like both of us are having a case of stage fright. Scully's gone down to the kitchen in search of a vase and I'm standing here shuffling my feet and fumbling with the second hanger like I've never hung a coat up before.

As I finally manage to get my coat in the closet and the closet door shut, Scully returns with the roses in a small white vase.

"This was perfect," she states, showing me the arrangement.

"Yeah. It looks great," I reply, twitching a smile.

We both stand there for a moment, the vase and dead air between us. Finally I clear my throat.

"Would you like something else to drink? Coffee? A brandy?" I ask quietly as Scully blinks at me.

"Oh...uh...well a brandy might be nice," she replies, nodding.

"I think that can be arranged. Den and Phil should have some in here I think," I reply, gesturing towards the living room as I move past her.

She follows me, carrying the vase and when we get into the living room she places the flowers carefully on the coffee table and takes a seat on the couch.

I go over to the small liquor cabinet and root around in the cabinet at the bottom, finding the brandy in back of a nice bottle of cognac. I take the bottle out and place it on the top of the cabinet. From the glassed-in top section I remove two brandy snifters from a shelf and place them next to the bottle.

"I wonder if it will be warmer tomorrow," Scully interjects from in back of me as I pour the brandy.

"The long range forecast said it should warm up but then a front's due. We might get rain," I reply, capping the bottle again. I leave the brandy out in case we want a second glass, pick up the glasses and carry them to the couch.

Scully is sitting with her legs tucked up under her in a corner of the couch. She's slipped off her shoes and placed them next to the coffee table. I hand her one of the snifters and move over to the other end, sitting down and angling my body to face her.

She smiles and sniffs the brandy. I sniff mine as she speaks.

"Oh...this is as good as I remember it," she observes, swirling the liquid around in her glass.

"Yeah...it's got a great aged bouquet," I reply, swirling my brandy and then lifting the snifter to my lips. I sip the liquor and savor the warmth as the liquid courses down my throat.

"Very smooth," she observes.

I nod and we both sip some more, not speaking. I can hear the clock on the wall ticking. Damn, I feel like an idiot as the minutes stretch out and I try to think of something to say to forestall matters further. Finally Scully clears her throat.

"Well, uh...if it's going to rain I guess we'd better plan on getting our run in early in the morning," she suggests, looking at me over the top of her snifter. The implication of her words is obvious through her tone. We'd better think about getting to bed...one way or the other.

"Yes, I guess that's probably a good idea," I reply, looking at her as well and acting as if I don't have a clue as to what she's suggesting. Suddenly she gives me a small smirk and then she starts to hum. I gape at her. What the hell?

"What...why are you humming?" I ask, confused but chuckling in order to play along with the joke even if as I start to suspect, I'm the butt of it. Scully's smile is widening and she's having trouble humming with each increasing second. She stops to speak.

"Don't you recognize it?" she asks, cryptically.

"Hum a few more bars," I reply, raising my eyebrows. I stifle the trace of annoyance that threatens to creep into my voice.

She giggles and attempts it but because she's laughing harder now I really can't tell what she's humming. I just look at her with my eyebrows raised further and then she cracks up sputtering out the answer to my earlier question.

"'Sixteen Candles'. I'm humming 'Sixteen Candles'," she replies, putting her brandy down on the coffee table so she doesn't spill it as she laughs.

"Sixteen Can...oh blow me," I blurt out before I think. I'm still annoyed but I know the annoyance is mostly with myself for being both nervous and too slow on the uptake to get the joke right away because of my unfocused attention. The whole thing strikes me as funny however, and despite my annoyance I laugh as well and we're both helpless with laughter together. We laugh long and hard and when we finally calm down, I've spilled brandy on my shirt and Scully has to wipe her eyes on her sleeve.

"God...yeah...but I sure as hell am not sweet sixteen," I manage to cough out as I get myself back under control.

"Well neither am I, but we're both as nervous as if we were," Scully replies, clearing her throat and settling back into the cushions a little further.

I look up into her understanding eyes and suddenly my lack of self-confidence irks me again. I shake my head in self-deprecation as I look back down and wipe at the brandy on my Henley.

"I have to clean this off," I reply, looking up at her again, incredibly embarrassed about the whole gist of the conversation. I mean Christ. She's a supremely desirable woman...how can I be so...so paralyzed with self-doubt here?

"I said 'both' of us are nervous, Walter. I'm nervous too. It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

I sigh and let my shoulders slump a little. Was I holding them that tensely? Damn straight I was holding them like wound up steel bands.

"Ok, yeah. I guess I should try some direct communication shouldn't I?" I reply quietly with a touch of irony in my voice over the earlier connotation to those words. I wince a little and look back over at her.

"Well...first, let's clean your shirt. Why don't you take it off and we'll go in the kitchen and rinse it in the sink," she suggests with a little smile.

"Right," I grunt. I stand up and pull the shirt off. She stands as well, and I place the shirt in her outstretched hand. I scratch my bicep under my T-shirt sleeve as Scully clinically examines the stain.

"Come on. I have a...scientific solution for this problem," she grins a little into my perplexed expression. I follow her dutifully and we leave the living room for the kitchen.

She walks into the kitchen, turning on the light again that she had turned off earlier when she located the vase. I trail after her right over to the sink. She turns on the warm water tap and fills a cereal bowl that was in the drainer with warm water.

"Shouldn't that be cold water?" I ask her doubtfully as I look over her shoulder.

"Common misconception," she replies matter-of-factly. "We need to blot this with warm water and a little detergent first...this dish washing liquid will do."

I watch, fascinated as she squirts Dove Dish Detergent into the cereal bowl full of warm water. She places the bowl on the counter.

"I bow to your expertise, Dr. Scully," I reply, arching an eyebrow and twitching a smile.

She smothers her smile and bends to her task, wetting the sponge from the sink in the solution and scrubbing it gently over the front of my Henley. After a thorough scrubbing she turns to me where I stand at her side watching quietly.

"Would you go to the fridge and see if Dennis and Phil have any white vinegar," she requests.

"Oh...sure," I reply. I leave her side and walk to the fridge, open the door and locate some household vinegar in one of the door shelves. I return to Scully as she's rinsing the soap out of the Henley.

"Vinegar as well?" I ask, curious.

"Yes. But we'll dilute it first. She rinses out the bowl and fills it partly full with water. She fills the rest of it with the white vinegar, rinses out the sponge and then soaks some of the sponge with the white vinegar and water. That solution goes on the shirt in turn and I stare again, marveling at the fact that the stain is indeed coming out as she wipes it.

"I'll be damned," I comment, pleased approval evident in my voice. "Was that something you picked up in the lab?"

"Martha Stewart," she deadpans.

"You're kidding?" I ask, chuckling.

"No, seriously...Mulder and I sometimes watch..."

"You and Mulder watch Martha Stewart together?" I ask, significantly, my eyebrows going up again.

She looks at me and pulls a face.

"Oh oh...I'm in trouble now...the secret's out. Mulder will never let me forget I gave him away," she replies, as she rinses the shirt under the tap. Then she laughs musically and I break into a smile and then laugh as well.

We stand facing each other, sharing the joke until finally the mirth peters out.

We stare at each other again and this time Scully just spits it out, after she lays my shirt over the edge of the sink.

"Why are you nervous, Walter?" she asks quietly.

"You first..." I reply, capturing her eyes.

She lets her eyes slide away for a second.

"Oh no...come on now," I chide her. "You wanted me to spill the beans. I'll give it up...but..."

"All right," she sighs. "I guess it would be fair if I put my money where my mouth is. But...you'll think it's...stupid."

"It can't be any more stupid than my feeling like a virgin again...so try me," I reply, giving her the main reason I'm nervous. She wisely doesn't make comment on my admission but instead plunges onward.

"Well...I had this same problem with Mulder the first time...uh...we were naked together after New York. I...I mean...the wound..."

"You're nervous about undressing in front of me? Nervous about my seeing the scar?" I ask trying to hide the incredulity from my voice.

She frowns a little.

"See...I knew you'd think it was childish...or vain."

"No...no...that's...I didn't mean to sound like I meant that at all," I hasten to reassure her. I run my hand over my mouth. Oh brother. I never even considered anything like this idea. I mean...her scar? God bless her. I wouldn't have noticed except to make sure I didn't accidentally touch it too hard. I stare down at her and try to think of how to convey to her that her scar won't make a bit of difference to me.

I'm temporarily at a loss. Then, not knowing what else to do, I strip off my T-shirt and throw it onto the counter. Scully stands back, a little surprised, as I toe off my sneakers and kick them aside. I strip off my jeans, socks and then finally, decisively, I strip off my boxer briefs and toss everything on top of my T-shirt. I stand there, naked and breathing a little heavily.

"Scully, what do you see?" I ask, using the flat of my hand to touch the scars that crisscross my stomach and groin, including the one courtesy of Louis Cardinale.

"I see a badge of honor," she whispers, looking from my hand up into my face.

"Then don't ever be embarrassed to show your body in front of me. Your scar's as much a badge of honor earned in the line of duty as any of these. And if you're worried that it makes you any less beautiful...flawed somehow...don't even let that enter your mind," I reply softly.

She walks forward and into my arms, hugging my waist tight.

"And don't ever worry that you won't please me, Walter...or I'll be disappointed when we're together...or...or whatever else you're nervous about that's making you feel like a virgin tonight. I don't care. Just hold me for a minute. God...just...I love you," she murmurs into my skin. I sense her breath blowing gently on the skin around my medallion. It tickles and I smile a little.

I stroke her hair, "I just...I had a bunch of...stupid shit going through my mind. I was thinking...can I get it up for her? Will I remember what she likes? Will I be too rough? I mean it's just 8 weeks after your surgery. God damn performance anxiety rearing its ugly head, and...well...never mind, it's not important now," I mumble as she strokes my back with her hands. I can feel the bracelet gently tickling my skin and it makes me shudder with excitement.

"I'm fine, Walter. Really. I don't think...I don't think anything we do will hurt me," she whispers, assuring me further.

Well I have to figure she knows best. I know for a fact also that she's been with Mulder twice during her recovery. I trust he was gentle with her. But I know both of them can be very hot for each other and if she was capable of it, no holds barred sex would have been on the bill. So, I'll consider that she knows best, take it at her pace and let her tell me if I'm coming on too strong.

We stand quietly for a few minutes, just holding each other tight. My excited anticipation builds and I feel a familiar stirring in my groin. Scully's hands drift and she begins to stroke my ass. Oh Jesus. I press tighter and let my hands shift from stroking her hair to stroking her back. She pushes off from me slightly and my hands slip down around her waist. Her hands follow mine and I help her as she pulls her sweater off. She lays it on the counter and I continue to hold her waist as she removes her bra and lays it on the counter as well. She smiles up at me and I pull her close again, bend and kiss her passionately.

Her hands roam over my back as our tongues meet and war within the confines of our mouths. I hold her head to deepen the kiss further, working my mouth eagerly over hers as she moans a little in her throat. She presses into me, grinding my cock into her thigh, rubbing and sliding it around, getting me hard with hardly any effort at all.

We break apart and I hold her back slightly and then smiling, pull her close again and scoop her up into my arms. She makes a small sound, a little intake of surprised breath, and then laughs as I carry her over to the heavy oak kitchen table. I walk to the side farthest from where the empty champagne bucket and 'party favors' rest, and sit her down on the tabletop. She understands my intentions completely and helps me as I pull her jeans, panties and finally socks off. She leans back and braces her hands on the tabletop. I toss all the garments over a chair back and step between her knees lowering my head between her breasts. I kiss her cross and then shift my mouth onto her right breast. She arches up slightly and gasps as I tongue her right nipple.

"Oh Jesus. I...God, Walter, I can't believe we're doing this here," she laughs with delight.

"Believe it," I growl, standing up again and taking my glasses off. I slide them over near the champagne bucket and then bend to her breasts again.

"Got your self-confidence back I see...oh..." she replies, her words end in a gasp as I suck in her other nipple.

"Mmm hmm," I murmur around her warm flesh.

"Oh...oh," she mumbles as I trail my mouth over both her breasts and down to the welted area where she was shot. I kiss it several times tenderly and she touches my head and strokes the back of my hair as I deliver my token of respect.

"I love you," I murmur against her skin. A small moan is her only answer as I lick and suck my way back up to her breasts. I continue to kiss and suck them as I bring my left hand down to rest over her mons. I start to massage her sex purposely and she arches up again into my hand, gasping once more.

"Oh God," she murmurs as I start to methodically rub her clit with the flat of my left hand.

I stroke her like that for several minutes as she rocks her hips, savoring the feeling. I nuzzle her neck and breasts, massaging both breasts with my right hand as my left strokes between her legs. Her breathing picks up and her legs raise. I help her bring them up so she can rest them around my hips and she continues to rock and rotate her hips as I move my hand over her. She bites her lower lip and looks up into my eyes, nodding her head to indicate that I'm right on target in pleasuring her. I pick up the pace and so does she. She's shoving her hips up into my hand and grinds against my fingers and palm.

Finally, while I completely cup her sex, I bring my right hand down to my cock. I'm almost erect and as I stroke her whole cunt over and over, I slowly work my own swelling flesh in time with the motions of my hand on her body. Scully's eyes are hooded with her arousal, her lips open and wet as she continues to prop herself on her arms and watches me work us both.

"You like this?" I ask indicating both our hands. I swallow hard as I feel the heat of my arousal building up further.

"Oh Lord...you...you look so fantastic," she replies breathlessly as I cup my balls and squeeze them a little as well.

Continued in Part 4
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