Title: Amun-Ra (2/3) Author: L. M. Shard E-Mail: lsshard@cox.net Website: www.geocities.com/fox_nhound Date started: 6-29-02 Date completed: 8-5-02 Rating: NC-17 Category: S, R, A, T Keywords: DSR Spoilers: Seasons 8 and 9 Feedback: I would love it! Archive: probably anywhere, just ask first. Disclaimer: These lovely characters belong to Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox. I am merely borrowing them for entertainment purposes only and am making no money from them. No copyright infringement intended. Special thanks to: Ginger and Megan for their excellent suggestions and to Tony for the kind feedback and encouragement. Author's Note: The events in "The Truth" did not occur in this story and Scully never gave William up for adoption. Summary: Doggett and Scully are called out to investigate a potential X-file in Egypt, sucking them into a perilous journey for survival. AMUN-RA (Part 2) By: L. M. Shard "Thanks," Scully mumbled and tied it around her waist. "Oh," she said, remembering, "I need to put on some sun block, or else I'm going to be fried to a crisp in this sun." She reached into her bag, retrieving the bottle. "You brought sun block with you?" He was amazed that she had thought of it, but then remembering his ex-wife, recalled that women tended to carry almost everything in their purses. "Of course. I knew we'd be working in the sun, I just didn't think we'd be in it this long!" she said, rubbing it on her arms. "Want some too?" "Yeah, I better," he said. They preceded to hand the bottle back and forth between themselves. Since his shirt was already soaking wet, he decided to just take it off, applying the sun block to his arms, chest, face, ears, and neck. Scully did not fail to notice Doggett's sudden state of undress and her heart skipped a beat as her eyes drank in the tempting sight before her. The man's physique was exquisite; there was no better word for it than that. She had observed him applying the lotion, stealing glances when he was not looking. Her eyes, hungry for more, watched as beads of perspiration turned heavy and ran down his chest, going over finely sculpted hills, valleys, and rippled stomach muscles before reaching the waistband of his jeans. She was melting on the spot and the sun had absolutely nothing to do with her current condition. Somehow, even with the major distraction of a half-naked Doggett, Scully had successfully covered all her exposed skin, except for a spot on her back where her tank top scooped rather low. She did not want to wear her jacket again in this heat and, although she knew that if she asked him for his help she would once again be affected by his touch, especially after having just taken in the sight that was John Doggett before her, she asked anyway. "Umm, could you please put some lotion on my back? I can't seem to reach it." "Sure," he said, squeezing the product on his palm. He then stood behind her as she lifted her ponytail up and smoothed the cream over her heated, silky skin. His eyes roamed freely over her back, taking in the tightly fitting tank top that showed off the side curves of her breasts and hugged her all the way down to her slender waist. Then his eyes traveled to her up-stretched arm, following the curve of the muscles to her delicate fingers woven in her hair. Her skin glowed and glistened from the combination of the heat and the lotion and his eyes drank in every detail, like a man thirsting for water. Immediately he felt his groin tighten again and he ended up rubbing the lotion in a bit longer than necessary. It felt so good to touch her, and when he stopped and she turned around to face him, he could see in her eyes that his touch had affected her as well. They shared another moment of intimate intensity, neither saying a thing, until he remembered that his back also needed protection now that his shirt was off. "Could you?" he asked, holding the bottle up between them. "Of course," she said, glad to have the opportunity to actually touch the magnificent physique that her eyes had been feasting on just moments earlier. He turned around and she squeezed a liberal amount into her hand and applied it to the skin of his back. At first touch she thought she was going to turn into a puddle at his feet, but she took a deep breath and forced her mind to concentrate on the task at hand and not the perfect specimen before her. But her attempts were futile and with each stroke along his broad back, her temperature rose higher and higher. When she reached the area just above his waistband, she had the tremendous urge to plunge her hand past it and down to his hard ass. But that was one move she did not allow herself and instead she said, "All done." He turned to face her again and saw that her cheeks were even redder than before and her lips were a swollen hot pink. His desire to kiss her was so great, his hands trembled and his temperature skyrocketed. He knew that if he didn't do something soon, the bulge in his pants would become a prominent embarrassment, so he took the sun block from her hand, put it back in her bag, and threw it over his shoulder. They continued their journey, walking without a word between them, although several stolen glances in each other's direction were taken. Scully was glad to have time again to contemplate all that had just happened between them. Her body was still humming from the arousal and her mind was in a whirlwind of emotions. He wanted her; she had seen it clearly in his eyes, and she knew she had allowed him that same insight. But there was something nagging at her in the back of her mind, and she wanted to clear it up once and for all. It was time to clarify her relationship with Mulder to him. God only knew what he thought. They had been hiking close to two hours since their snack break, with only occasional small talk, when Scully broached the subject. She wasn't sure how to bring it up, or how to start it, so she just blurted out, "I saw Mulder a few days before this assignment." Doggett was surprised at her sudden topic and looked at her as they walked, giving her his full attention. "Really? He came outta hidin'?" "Yeah." Why hadn't she told him? Did she still not trust him after all he had proved to her time and time again? Doggett felt a bit hurt, but reminded himself that she was telling him now, something she surely did not have to do. "Did you notify Skinner and Kersh?" Scully noted the slight sign of pain reflected in his eyes and it hurt her seeing it. She knew that in the past she had not put her trust in him when she had had no reason not to, and she was becoming more and more aware that not trusting him, after he had proved himself trustworthy to her countless times, had hurt him deeply. This was all the more reason for her to tell him everything and show him that she did trust him completely. "No, because he basically came to me to tell me goodbye," she said softly, knowing that had her answer been "yes", she would have seen further hurt in his eyes. "What? You mean like he's never comin' back?" Doggett was dumbstruck. "Yes. He thinks it's safest for William and me if he says away, and he also wants to pursue his quest for the truth unhindered and without worry about our welfare. So he stayed with me that night and left the morning before our trip here." Hearing that Mulder and Scully had spent the night together, shot instant daggers of pain through Doggett's heart. He had always suspected them of being lovers, but to hear it from her own lips caused him more heartache than he ever could have imagined. Suddenly his hopes of being with her in a romantic relationship were dashed. Even if Mulder never returned, it would take her a long time to get over him. Yet regardless, he knew he would wait, as long as it took, if he only knew she would one day want him. "You mean to tell me that he's choosin' his quest over his lover and his son; that that is more important than the family he created with you?" Doggett just couldn't understand this; he would have done anything to have kept his family whole and intact. "We're not lovers; we never have been." There she had said it. Whatever mystery there was about Mulder and her relationship, it was over now. Doggett stopped in his tracks, looking at Scully in total disbelief, "What? But isn't William your and Mulder's son?" "Yes, conceived through invitrofertilization." She remembered that moment when she had asked Mulder to be the father of her baby, and had hoped--even though she had mentioned making the donation into a cup--that he would at that point have shown interest in creating the child the old fashioned way. She had loved Mulder for so long and had yearned to broaden their friendship, their kinship, into a romantic relationship as well, but it just never happened. Doggett just stood there, looking at her, speechless. "Don't get me wrong: I love Mulder and he loves me. We're soul mates and we'll be connected through the rest of our days, not just by the bond we share in William, but by the bond we have for each other within our hearts. I will always love him and although I had wanted us to become lovers, we never did, and I know it will never happen. Now that I have William, I can no longer follow him to whatever crazy place his quest takes him and I cannot wait for him. I will not wait for him. I've given him nine years of my life, of my unrequited love; I will not give more. I need something more in my life…" That last sentence she almost whispered, suddenly realizing how open, how vulnerable she had just made herself. Doggett also realized what she had done and was thrilled that she had opened up to him so freely. The hope that had died just a moment ago was rebuilt at her words. His heart was heavy for her that her love for Mulder was never realized in the way she would have liked, but he was also happy that she was truly free now to love another--hopefully him. He knew in his heart that he could make her happy, give her what she seemed to want: love, stability, and security. He wanted to provide her with that and so much more. He did not know what to say and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. Then what he thought was just a thought in his head, manifested itself into words: "He's a fool," he whispered. They hugged for several seconds more and then Scully said, "John, we have to keep moving or we won't make it." "You're right," he agreed and they continued their trek. Several minutes later, Doggett thought it was time to share some of his hidden past with her as well, considering her openness toward him. "Barbara was the one who divorced me," he said out-of-the- blue. This time it was Scully's turn to be surprised at the change of topic. "After Luke was murdered, I threw myself into work and the search for his killer. I stayed at the office or was out on leads almost all the time. I was rarely home, even spendin' the night at my desk several nights a week. And this at a time when Barbara needed me with her--and I needed her too--but I just blocked that out and would not, could not rest until I had found out why, who, how, and all those other million questions that floated around in my head, hauntin' me. I felt massive guilt for not havin' been able to prevent the murder, for not bein' there to protect my only child. And I withdrew from Barbara, my friends, my family. Technically she lost me durin' that time and that, coupled with the loss of our son, was too much for her, so she filed for divorce just six months after his death." He hesitated, reliving the pain from that time. "I'm so sorry, John," Scully whispered empathetically. "You were alone as well." "Not entirely, although that's what I wanted at the time, what I thought I deserved. But no matter how much I pushed her away, Monica was always there for me." Monica Reyes. Scully had always wondered about the kind of relationship the two of them shared and was loath to admit that she was a bit jealous of her. "I resisted her friendship and help so much, but in the end it was she that kept me sane and alive. I know that if it were not for that determination of hers, I'd be six feet under now along with my son. I'll always be grateful to Monica and I love her." He paused and let out a small laugh. "You know, under other circumstances, we'd probably be married by now," he sighed, "but I couldn't let her--or anyone else for that matter--into my heart. I had closed it off completely to that kind of love, even desire. Lucky for me, she was able to squeeze her friendship into me, practically kickin' and screamin' on my part." "And now, John? Why aren't you two together now?" Scully was hesitant to ask, afraid that perhaps there was something more between them, but she had to know. Was his heart free to love her? "Sometimes I get the feelin' that she'd still like somethin' like that between us, but I just can't. She represents a time in my life that was so utterly painful, so void of emotion other than pain, grief, guilt and anger, and its somethin' I can't go back to, especially now that I've finally found Luke's killer and have been given some release from his murder and all that followed. I'll always love her, but I'm not in love with her," he said, thinking that another woman, one Dana Scully, had taken that spot in his heart. "I understand," she said softly. And she did. She loved Mulder, but was no longer in love with him. The sun was high in the cloudless sky now and their shadows were short. It must have been close to noon by now for the intensity of the sun burning down on them was merciless. Sweat dripped from their tired bodies, yet they trudged along, knowing that if they did not make it to the city by nightfall, they'd be surrounded by pitch black and be at the mercy of the night with its sandstorms and potential other unknown dangers. Scully's feet were getting swollen in the heat and the straps of her sandals dug deeply into her skin. She cursed herself for having worn them instead of sensible shoes, but never in a million years had she thought they'd be making an all-day lone trek through the desert. She knew she was getting blisters and it was just a matter of time before the straps started to draw blood. "Hold on a minute," she said, breathlessly, as she stooped to take off the offensive shoes. Finally free of their restraints, her feet eased into the heated sand, the kernels slipping between her toes. "Better." They continued on, speaking little for it took too much energy to do so, and energy was something they were both running considerably low on. It was only a few minutes later that the sand became too hot for her feet to handle and although the thought of squeezing her tired and now very swollen feet back into the strappy sandals appalled her, she knew she had no other choice. "John, hold on," she said, "The sand's too hot, I've got to put my sandals back on." She plopped to the ground and tried squeezing her foot into the shoe. It seemed to have shrunk two sizes. Doggett saw how her feet had swollen in the heat and the red telltale signs on the sides of her big and pinky toes that were sure to produce blisters if further irritated. A bit embarrassed, but knowing no other way to help her out, he offered, "If you don't mind the dampness and smell, I'd be more than happy to lend you my socks and you can walk in those." Scully looked up at him and was touched by his thoughtfulness. How sweet his unconventional offer was! And as for the dampness and potential smell, she could care less. Anything to relieve the dilemma her feet were in. "If you're sure not wearing them won't give you blisters, it'd be a relief for me to wear them." "I've worn these shoes in; they won't give me blisters," he said, sitting down and undoing the laces of his shoes. "But I warn you, they may not smell like flowers, considerin' I've been in them since yesterday mornin'." He flashed her a rather shy grin. "At this point, John, I really don't care," she said, smiling at his obvious embarrassment. He handed her the socks and she put them on her feet. They were warm and damp, but as for a smell, she didn't notice one. He stood up and extended his hand to her. Accepting it, he pulled her to her feet. "Ahh…much better," she said gratefully. "Thank you." She gave him a radiant smile that warmed him more than the sun ever could. "Glad I could help," he said, returning that smile. He moved a strand of hair that was stuck to her cheek behind her ear. Even drenched in sweat, she looked so lovely to him, and he couldn't help but touch her. He wanted to see her like this-- her skin glistening in sweat, her lips red and plump--beneath him as he made love to her. Suddenly he felt ashamed of where his mind was wandering to and he quickly changed the subject, hoping she hadn't been able to read his mind. "Let's go." "Yeah," she said, having noticed an odd look in his eyes; they had seemed to have an almost feral look to them for a moment, and she wondered just what he had been thinking. Several hours had passed and there still was no city in sight. Both Doggett and Scully were thoroughly exhausted and their water supply had run dry. Unable to continue, Scully fell to her hands and knees in utter fatigue. "John, I can't," she said, breathing hard, a droplet of sweat running down her straight nose and falling off the tip to the scorching sand below. She couldn't imagine taking one more step in this endless expanse of desert ruled by the merciless sun. The wrath of Amun-Ra was just too powerful and she felt like she was losing the battle. He kneeled down besides her, feeling the same way, but he knew that they had to keep going. Since they were now completely out of water, it was imperative. "Let's take a short break," he suggested. She sighed heavily. "That's not enough. I just can't. I'm too tired, too thirsty, too hot." She lay back completely, not caring about sand in her hair, and closed her eyes. God, it felt good to close her eyes. She never wanted to open them again and yearned to just let herself drift off into an endless sleep. She felt drowsy and dizzy. Doggett felt her arm, noticing that it was very hot to the touch. It also looked quite red, but since she had slathered on a lot of sun block earlier, he didn't think it was a sunburn. He was getting very worried about her; it was not like Scully to complain when things got tough. He feared she might be suffering from heat stroke and if that were the case, there was absolutely nothing he could do for her out here without any water or shade. The only thing he could think of was to keep moving to reach the city. He was sure they were not far from it. He hovered over her on hands and knees, attempting to shade her body with his own. "Dana," he said, trying hard to keep the worry out of his voice. She did not respond. He shook her gently. "Dana." Slowly she opened her eyes. They looked somewhat disoriented. "Umm…so much better in the shade…" she murmured, then closed her eyes again. "Dana, baby, please." In his concern for her "baby" had just slipped out, but she did not seem to notice. He decided to lay it out straight for her, since she was a doctor. "Dana, open your eyes. Look at me." She did. "I'm afraid you might be startin' to suffer from heat stroke. Since we have no water and there is no shade, we have to just keep movin'. I think we're close to the city; it shouldn't be too much longer." There was an urgency in his voice and Scully noticed it, but felt too tired to care. "John…too tired…sleep…" "Damn it, Dana! Think of William! He needs you! Gather your strength and do this for him!" He was not going to let her die in the desert. He'd carry her the rest of the way back if he had to. The mention of her baby made Scully's eyes fly open and she propped herself up on her elbows, her face now inches from Doggett's. She had to survive this, for so many reasons. "You can do it," he said encouragingly. "Lean on me." She put her arms around his neck and he lifted them both to their feet. Amazingly Scully found a modicum of strength and managed to continue their trek, keeping William at the forefront of her mind for added motivation. Luckily, Doggett had been right: about thirty minutes later they saw the outskirts of Cairo and another thirty minutes put their tired feet on concrete. "We did it," she said breathlessly as she leaned her full weight into Doggett. "Yes. I knew we could do it." He also knew he had to get her water fast. He steered her to a shady spot next to the wall of a nearby building and sat her down. No one was around and he felt she would be safe here in the few minutes he'd be gone. "I'm gonna go get us some water. You stay here; I'll be back as soon as I can." "Okay," she said, a small smile on her face. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it weakly and then he was gone. He ran through the city, using what little energy he had left. The thought of Scully's dire need of water urged him on. He finally found a small food mart and rushed inside, going straight to the refrigerated water. He grabbed six large bottles, placing them on the checkout counter two by two and paid for them. Throwing them in a plastic bag he also had to purchase, he ran out of the store with the goods. About ten minutes later, he was at Scully's side again. Her eyes were closed and he quickly opened one of the bottles and poured it over her body. The coldness of the water awakened her and her eyes sprung open in surprise. "Drink," he said urgently, pressing another bottle to her parched lips. She did as told, gulping almost half the bottle at once. The cold water felt like the most delicious thing that had ever passed her lips. She drank even more, greedy for it, somehow not able to get enough of it. It was not until Scully had finished the entire bottle that Doggett took his first drink. Her welfare was his first and only concern. "I think I better take you to a hospital and have them check you out," he said, still concerned even though she was looking much more focused and alert. "No, John, I'm fine now. I feel good. But I would like some more water," she said, eyeing the full bag. "Of course!" he said, handing her one. "But are you sure you shouldn't be checked out, just to be safe?" She smiled warmly at him, appreciative of his concern. "No, I'm feeling good." She then proceeded to dump half the bottle over her head, relishing the refreshing coolness against her scalp and body. "Ahh…" Doggett found the act quite amusing and let out a loud laugh. In the midst of his glee, Scully poured the other half of her bottle over his head. "Hey!" he yelled out in surprise, then poured part of his bottle over her in retaliation. Laughing, she scrambled over to the plastic bag and grasped a fresh bottle, hurrying to open it, but before she could, Doggett pinned her down to the ground, forcing her to let the bottle go. "Uncle!" she yelled as he threatened to pour more of his bottle over her. He gave her a devilish smile and just as he was about to let the water fall on her face, she rolled out from under him, arming herself with the bottle he had forced from her just moments ago. Now they both stood face-to-face, big smiles on their lips, water bottles ready. "Truce," he said, watching her intently, utterly relieved that she was indeed fine now. "How can I trust you?" she asked playfully. "It's not like you put down your "weapon" when I called "uncle" earlier." He looked at her smiling face, so full of vitality, and watched as the water droplets dripped from the ends of her hair, down her collarbone, over the swell of her breasts, and into her low-cut tank top. He was suddenly overcome with a feral urge so great, he could not fight it. "Because of this," he said, his voice lower than usual, as he grabbed her by the waist and brought his mouth to hers in a scorching kiss that burned hotter than the sun above. Instantly she melted into him and let him devour her whole. She swooned at his almost animalistic passion and clung to him in desperate desire. Minutes later they parted: pounding hearts, flushed faces, reddened lips. Had they been anywhere in private, there would have been no stopping them. "Let's get back to the hotel," she said, her body once again shaking from the fiery passion they had just shared. "Yeah," he breathed, picking up the bag of water bottles as well as her bag. They hailed a taxi and were driven in comfortable silence back to the hotel, holding hands the entire way. Stopping off at the cafeteria restaurant, they hurriedly ate some sandwiches and fruit, easing their monumental hunger. Doggett noticed a sign advertising an Egyptian beer called Stella. Their slogan read: "That which does not kill us makes us stronger". He pointed it out to Scully. "Pretty weird beer slogan, eh?" he said amused, thinking he might want to avoid that brand. She looked to where he was pointing and grinned. "Yeah, but isn't it the truth!" He took her hand in his, so grateful that she had survived their desert trek. "Sure is." An overwhelming feeling of love hit him and he squeezed her hand, letting that love shine through his eyes. She smiled, warmed by his gaze. "Let's go. You need to get some sleep," he said tenderly. Finally they arrived at their rooms, completely exhausted, the strenuous journey of the day overriding the brief energy they had experienced just forty minutes ago as they had kissed. "John, I'm so tired. I think I'm just going to shower and fall into bed," Scully stated as she unlocked her door. "Me too, but first I'm gonna give Kersh a call and tell him what's goin' on. I know he'll be anxious to hear what we've learned." "Good," she said. She had almost forgotten about their duty with the perilous adventure they had just survived. "See you later," she said, falling into his arms. He hugged her back, then watched her disappear into her room, smiling to himself as he noticed she was still walking around in his socks. He walked into his room as well, threw himself on the bed, and kicked off his shoes. He was beat and his feet ached. How good it felt to be lying on a clean, cool bed, no sand or sun in sight. With a groan he rolled over and grabbed the phone, dialing Kersh. About ten minutes later, he ended the call, having told Kersh the entire story, what they suspected, and what was done to them. Still lying on the bed, he unwrapped the scarf that covered his hand. The memory of Scully tending to his wound flashed before him and suddenly he missed her, even though they had only been apart for about fifteen minutes. He shook his head and smiled at the silliness of his thoughts as he headed to the bathroom and washed his wound. The cut was minor and had already formed a scab. It didn't even require a bandage. He rinsed out her scarf in the sink, using some of his shampoo as detergent, then hung it carefully over a towel rack to dry. In the mean time, Scully was in the shower, letting the water- -which she had purposefully only set at a lukewarm temperature--run over her, washing away the sand, sweat, and grime. She let her tired mind linger over the memory of the kiss she had shared with Doggett. It was so incredibly passionate, so feral and wild, she couldn't get it out of her head and knew she wanted more--much, much more. But not tonight, tonight all her body could stand was sleep, lots and lots of sleep. She turned off the water, wrapped a towel around her body and stepped into the bedroom. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a hand clamped firmly down upon her mouth and a strong arm wrapped around her waist. She struggled against her attacker, trying desperately to free herself from his grasp, but her body was too exhausted and the man was too large and powerful to budge. All of a sudden she felt the unmistakable cool sharpness of a blade at her throat. "No make a sound or you dead," the man whispered in broken English. She froze and realized that in her struggle to free herself, the towel that she had loosely wrapped around her body was now at her feet. She stood completely naked in the arms of her attacker and another type of fear rose like a geyser within her. Her apprehension was confirmed in the next moment when she felt the hand that was on her waist travel upwards to her right breast and fondle it. She cringed and let out a whimper, only to have the knife at her neck dig into her flesh and draw blood. "You no hear well, woman. I said you dead if you make a sound," the man said in a tone that sent shivers of terror down her spine. He continued to fondle her breast then let his hand fall down to her crotch. Before she knew it, he had his finger inside her and her mind screamed in agony and repulsion, but she was too afraid to move. "You American women all whores anyway," he sneered as he continued to thrust his finger deep inside her. She felt his penis harden against her back and sheer horror ran through her again and again. Then in an abrupt move he pulled his finger out of her and forced her to the bed, where he put all his weight down on top of her. With one hand holding the knife against the artery in her throat, he used the other one to undo his pants. She knew he was only seconds away from penetration and she screamed despite the danger to her life. Her action threw him off guard for a moment, and in that instant she managed to pull his hand that held the knife away from her throat. Doggett was about to peel off his clothes and hit the shower when he heard Scully's sudden scream. Alarm ran through his body and a mere moment later he came crashing through their adjoining door. The scene before him shocked and terrified him, and at once he ran to the man who was straddling Scully, grabbed him, and threw him off of her. The attacker went flying against the wall, the impact knocking the knife out of his hand. Instantly Doggett was on top of him, pounding his fists into the man's face. But the man was very large and strong and gained leverage, rolling Doggett under him. But before he was able to throw his first punch, Doggett pushed him off of himself with his leg and sprang on him again. His fury boiled over and with his rushing adrenaline giving him almost super-human strength, he beat the attacker into unconsciousness. He would have continued with his punching had he not heard Scully's whimpering. Immediately he sprinted to her side and noticed she was completely naked. "Dana, are you hurt? What did he do to you?" Doggett's eyes scanned her body, looking for signs of injury. He noticed a small cut on her neck, but nothing else. He was afraid to ask his next question, fearing her answer would be "yes". "Did he rape you?" She shook her head from side to side, her body trembling uncontrollably. "No…but almost," she whimpered. A wave of relief passed over Doggett at her words and he gathered her in his arms, holding her tightly against him. "If you hadn't come in…at that second…" she sobbed, "…he would have and then would have killed me…" "My God, Dana; I'm so sorry. Oh, baby…" he rocked her back and forth, imagining the horror she had just lived through. He didn't know what he would have done had he not been able to save her from rape and worse. "He…he…put his finger…inside me…" she was repulsed at the memory, but felt the need to tell Doggett everything. A tidal wave of anger rose within Doggett again and he sprang up from the bed and over to the attacker, still lying unconscious on the floor. He was about to swing his fist into him again when Scully's urgent plea stopped him. "No! Please, John! No! Leave him; he's not worth it!" She knew he would have killed him had she not stopped him and the thought of him in jail because of that scum terrified her. Doggett hesitated, his anger still boiling, but one look at the pleading in her eyes coupled with the her next words stopped him. "I need you," she said, her naked body trembling. He rushed over to her again, grabbed a robe he saw lying at the head of the bed, wrapped it around her, and took her in his arms. "Oh, God, Dana. I'm so sorry. I'll never let this happen to you again. Never!" He was feeling massive guilt building up inside him that she had been so close to complete violation and that she had had to experience that bastard's filthy finger inside her most private area. How could he have let this happen? Why hadn't he known the moment the attacker was in her room? "It's not your fault, John." She could already see in his eyes that he was blaming himself. "But it is! I should've known; I should've prevented this entirely!" She took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. "John, I didn't scream until the last minute. How could you have known? What counted is that you saved me, you were there for me, and that is what matters." "Oh baby, oh baby…" Here she was soothing him when she was the one traumatized. "What can I do for you?" "Just hold me and…don't leave me," she whispered, needing him now more than ever. "I'll never leave you." He held her tightly against him, burying his face in her wet hair and letting his tears flow. A moaning abruptly caught Doggett's attention and he jumped up and strode over to the man sprawled on the floor. He was coming to and Doggett knew it was high time to call the authorities. He grabbed the phone off of the nightstand and carried it over to where the man lay. Within minutes he had called the police and was assured that they were on their way over. Scully put her arms through her robe and tied it securely at her waist, trying to cover all of her exposed flesh. Doggett grabbed some pillowcases and tied them tightly around the attacker's wrists and ankles. By this time the man was conscious again. Doggett held the knife up to him and said, his voice hard and angry, "How dare you attack and touch my partner! I should kill you for it, you dirty bastard! You sicken me." The man grinned evilly and said, "She's just a whore." Doggett punched him, then spat in his face. It took all his willpower not to beat him senseless again. "You're the filth here! What else did you come for?" The man stared at him with hatred in his eyes, but said nothing. "Answer me!" Doggett demanded, pressing the knife to his throat. "John," Scully said. She had just noticed that the contents to her bag were strewn over the bedspread. "He stole the rolls of film I took at the sight yesterday." Immediately, Doggett patted the man down, finding the film in his pockets. He threw them over in Scully's direction, just as the police arrived. Doggett and Scully showed the police their ID's and explained what had happened in detail. Doggett never left Scully's side during the questioning, keeping his arm around her in a protective gesture. One of the policemen wrote down all Scully said and seemed sympathetic towards her. He assured her that the man would be punished for his crime. When they left, Doggett was still at Scully's side. "I feel so dirty," she said quietly. "I've got to take another shower, but…" her voice trailed off. "But what?" he asked gently. "But…could you…" She felt like a fool for what she wanted to ask. He understood and offered, "I'll stay right here on this bed while you shower. I'll make sure no one comes in. You'll be safe; I promise." She smiled, so thankful that this loyal, precious man was in her life. "Thanks," she whispered. He kissed her forehead and released her from his embrace. She walked slowly into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Doggett paced the floor, his anger having resurfaced. How could this happen? How could he have let this happen? He should have known that there might have been someone sent to retrieve the film. He should not have let her out of his sight. He should have been there to protect her! He was just so thankful that he had not been in the shower when she had screamed, or else he certainly would have arrived too late and then he could not have lived with himself, nor ever forgiven himself. Scully let the water wash over her body. She scrubbed it fiercely, giving her right breast and crotch special attention, but no matter how hard she scrubbed or how much soap she used, she still felt dirty. She could still remember the God- awful feeling of that scum's finger inside her. Her vagina ached and she had noticed a drop of blood on the lower part of her robe where she had been sitting on it. She knew it must have come from her vagina since she was completely dry when he penetrated her and she remembered feeling a sharp fingernail scrape her insides. She shuddered at the thought and her face grimaced at the horrible memory. She lathered up again, inserting her own soapy finger gently into her vagina to completely clean it out. Then the tears came: tears of fear, tears of being violated, tears of self-pity, tears of relief that she got off with as little injury as she did. About twenty-five minutes later, she turned the water off, toweled herself dry, and donned the cotton pajamas she had set out on the sink counter earlier. Doggett noticed that Scully was taking an unusually long time in the shower and hoped she was okay. He imagined her sitting on the shower floor in the fetal position crying. He was tempted to go in and check on her, but the last thing he wanted to do was cause her anymore discomfort or embarrassment; he was just so desperate to help her and wasn't quite sure how to. Finally Scully stepped out of the bathroom and Doggett was at once on his feet and walked toward her. He could tell that she had been crying, and it broke his heart. He didn't know what to say, so he tenderly put his arms around her. Letting his embrace encompass her, she pressed herself against him. "I just can't seem to get clean," she whispered. He closed his eyes tightly at her words and his heart ached for her. "You are clean; you are beautiful; you are safe," he said softly into her damp hair. She hugged him tighter and felt so lucky to be in his arms. Just being in them brought her comfort he could never imagine. "Do you think you can get some sleep?" he asked gently. She nodded her head against his chest and he walked her over to her bed, turned back the covers, helped her climb in, and tucked her in. She looked up at him, her eyes red-rimmed, but big and blue, a million emotions reflecting within them. "I'll keep the adjoinin' room door open and I'm gonna take a quick shower, but I'll leave my bathroom door open as well, so I can hear you should you need me," he offered, hoping these gestures would give her somewhat of a sense of security. She nodded. "Thank you, thank you for everything, John. I'm so grateful to you for stopping that man when you did, for being here with me, for comforting me. Your presence has helped me more than you know." Doggett felt good upon hearing that, for that was all he wanted to do for her: provide her safety and comfort…and love. He smiled warmly at her, then kissed her forehead. "Goodnight," he whispered. "Goodnight," she repeated and watched him walk to his room, making sure that he did not close the door. She listened to the water hit the shower floor as he turned it on and suddenly missed his presence intensely. Although she was dead tired from their dangerous journey and the emotional turmoil her attacker caused her, she was now wide- awake, hearing every sound around her. She suddenly couldn't wait until Doggett turned off the shower and realized that she wanted--needed--to be in his embrace in order to feel safe enough to drift off into sleep. True to his word, Doggett's shower was short and she waited a while for him to get dressed. Then she sat up in bed and was about to stand up when Doggett's head peaked around the adjoining door. He was surprised to find her sitting in bed awake instead of sleeping and walked over to her. Clad only in a pair of boxer shorts, Scully couldn't help but notice his chiseled chest and muscular, powerful thighs and arms and yearned to be held next to them safe and at peace. She took her notice of this as a sign that she would be able to get over this terrible event sooner rather than later. "I was hopin' you'd be sleepin' by now," he said gently, then kneeled down before her. "I couldn't sleep. I guess I'm just paranoid tonight." "That's understandable. But you're perfectly safe now. I'll make sure of it." She smiled warmly at him then got the nerve up to ask him what she really needed, "Could I…could I sleep with you in your bed tonight?" She lowered her eyes and felt her cheeks turn crimson. Ashamed, she tried to explain: "I would feel safe with you next to me…I--" He noticed her embarrassment and interrupted her justification, "Shh…of course you can. Come on." They walked into his room and she quickly climbed into his bed. He pulled a clean T-shirt out of his suitcase and put it on, something he would not have done had he been sleeping alone, but he wanted to make her more comfortable. Then he turned off the light and climbed into bed as well. "John." Her voice sounded meek in the darkness. "Could you please hold me?" She felt like a silly child, but her need for his comfort, the security he could provide, negated any attempts at pride this night. "Of course," he said, knowing how much it must have taken her to ask. It was what he had instinctively wanted to do the moment he got into bed, but he had not wanted to be presumptuous. He wrapped his arms securely around her, her back to his chest, and she laced her arms and legs with his, wanting to feel him tightly against her every limb. Almost immediately a sense of peace washed over her and she felt incredibly drowsy. "Thanks," she mumbled as sleep claimed her wholly. Doggett smiled into her hair, happy that he could bring her enough comfort and security that she found it easy to fall asleep. He, on the other hand, would have a more difficult time falling asleep. After all, it was not every night he got to lay in bed with and wrap his body around the woman he loved, in fact it was the first time with Dana Scully and although the thoughts were not appropriate at this time, his body still hummed at her nearness. But eventually sleep claimed him as well, and the two of them slept in utter peace in each other's arms. It was late morning when Doggett felt Scully stir against him. He had been up for almost an hour now, thinking about how good it felt to have her in his arms, in his bed. He had marveled at the position he had found themselves in upon waking: he was lying on his back and Scully was turned toward him, her leg between his two, his arm around her, her arm draped over his stomach, and her head on his chest. It was simply heaven, but what it had taken for her to end up in bed with him last night, was something he never would have wished upon her. He had also spent the last hour thinking about the events of the previous day. It was a day from hell in so many ways, but it had surprisingly brought them closer to each other on many levels. That they had survived their almost day-long journey through the relentless heat of the desert, that Scully had escaped heat stroke by a slim margin, that he had prevented her rape and possible death by a couple moments were all things he was very thankful for. Since losing his son, he had lost his connection with God, but this morning he prayed and thanked God for what they had survived, for what He had given to him in Scully. She stirred against him again and he gently entwined his fingers with hers, joining their hands on his stomach. He felt so close to her and knew without a doubt that he was head- over-heels in love. She squeezed his hand and nuzzled her head in his chest, not wanting to move from this position for anything. "Didn't mean to wake you," he said softly. "Umm," was all she said. He was amazed at how comfortable she was in his embrace, in his bed. After all, they were not lovers--yet. But he felt the same way and took the liberty to stroke her hair with his other hand. "How're you feelin'?" She stretched her neck up and found his gaze immediately. It was loving and warm and so much more. She smiled, amazed at how good she felt, considering what horrendous events took place the day before. It was almost like one night next to him in bed, one full night in his arms, cured her of all her troubles and pain. "Much, much better," she whispered. His heart lightened at her words and he returned her smile. "I'm so glad." She propped her head up on her bent arm. "I don't know how to thank you properly for all you've done for me. You saved me twice yesterday and I owe you so much." "You owe me nothin'," he said sternly. He would die for her; didn't she know that? "And as for thanks, seein' you safe and happy is all I want." She smiled again, then leaned toward him and planted a soft kiss on his lips. It was tender and lingering, and she wanted to convey how very much he meant to her through it. "Thank you," she said again as she pulled back. Their eyes met and he knew without a doubt at that moment, that she loved him too. He wanted to tell her right then that he loved her, but since they were in bed together it might lead to love-making, and with the almost-rape of last night he did not think she was ready. The last thing he wanted to do was push her to yield to something she was not quite ready for. He also wanted their first time not to be overshadowed by such a terrible experience. He wanted to tell her that he loved her when the time and place were special and memorable, and he wanted their consummation of that love to be even more special. END of Part 2. Continues with Part 3.