Part 3
Friday evening - 11:40 pm
Dana Scully's apartment

Scully used her back to push her apartment door shut,
leaning against it with a soft sob.

It had taken every ounce of her will not to cry in the
car.  Sitting in the backseat while Mulder drove,
Scully had fixed her gaze out the window, desperately
wishing that she were somewhere else.  All she wanted
was to get home - and away from anything that reminded
her of what had taken place in that backseat just a
short while ago. 

Red lights had been torture.  The silence in the car
was painful as they sat, waiting for the light to
change, until Mulder could hit the gas once again, as
if he could hardly wait to get to her place . . . to
get rid of her.  Scully could feel his anger and
confusion.  It hung in the air, filling the space
between them.  She tried to say something, anything,
that might make it better, but what was there to say? 
It shouldn't have happened.  But it was too late.  And
as the minutes stretched on, it became even more
impossible for any words to be uttered.

An eternity later they reached her building.  Mulder
put the car in park and shut off the engine.  He
didn't turn around; he simply sat and stared out the
front window.  Scully hesitated, then reached for the
door handle.

"Scully."  A whisper; a plea.  She looked up at him. 
Mulder's head had dropped forward; his shoulders had
lost their stiffness.  She waited.  He said nothing
else.  She wanted to say how sorry she was, how she
wished she could take it all back, erase everything
that happened.  But the words seemed so inadequate, so
. . . pathetic.

"Good night, Mulder."  She opened the door and walked
into her building without looking back.

Now, standing in her shadowy apartment, she could let
a few tears fall.  She felt wretched.  And nauseous. 
Holding herself tightly around her middle, she gulped
a few deep breaths and tried to remain calm.  The room
was spinning; Scully closed her eyes, willing the
nightmare to be over.  But each breath she took as she
stood there only reminded her how fresh the wound was.
 

"Oh god," she whispered softly.  She suddenly felt
like she couldn't support herself and stumbled to the
bathroom, leaning against the sink.  She bent forward
and tried to focus on deep breathing.  Her hand
reached out for her cup; she filled it and threw her
head back and drank, then filled it again.  She caught
her eye in the mirror as she put the cup down.  Scully
flipped on the light and stared at her reflection,
unblinking.  Her hair was slightly mussed; her cheeks
were stained a bright pink.  Drawing her lips together
in a thin line, she gazed at the person staring back
at her.  A person she hadn't seen in quite a while. 
Post-sex Dana.  

It should be joyous.  Satisfying.  Even almost a
relief, after the dry spell of the last few years. 
But she felt none of those things.  All she felt was .
. . ill.  And desperately disappointed in herself. 
Was this what she'd joined the Bureau for?  Was this
why she'd pushed so hard to prove that she could make
it in a profession dominated by men?  To get involved
with her partner and have sex in public places?   Well
. . . she wasn't really *involved* with Mulder.  It
was just sex.  There wasn't any sort of promise or
commitment there.  They were adults; they should be
able to get past it.  It had simply been a lapse of
good judgment.

Scully shook her head slowly.  She was kidding
herself.  She'd been involved with Mulder from day
one, from the minute she walked into his office.  He
introduced her to a world full of mystery and danger
and deception that she could never have imagined. 
Now, the work was everything.  It was consuming them
both, eating away at their lives until there was
almost nothing left.  Except each other.  

And what was left now?  How could she look into his
eyes and expect to see any measure of respect that she
could trust?  How could she face Mulder each day with
him knowing what he now knew?  And how could she slip
back into the daily persona that had become so natural
for her, so safe, when she had managed to strip it
away in only a matter of hours?

How exposed she felt.  How raw.  She needed time -
time to absorb and analyze the situation.  Or maybe
she just needed sleep, she admitted to herself as she
yawned into the mirror.  Scully refocused her gaze on
the tub behind her.  That bath was long overdue.  She
looked at it wistfully, knowing that even a long soak
wouldn't be quite enough tonight.  It would take more
than a tubful of hot water to wash everything away.

She sighed.  What in the world was she going to do
now?  There was no way to justify her behavior.  No
way that she would accept, anyway.  She'd just have to
figure out how to move forward.  To lock away the
memories and resume daily life.  But how, when every
time she saw him she'd be reminded of her actions?  

Her head began to throb.  Scully palmed her forehead
and looked away from the mirror, grimacing in disgust.
 How could she expect *him* to hold any respect for
her?  What respect did she have for herself? 

Then she heard it.  A knock at the door.  "Damn it." 
She supposed she should have expected it.  Scully
walked out into the living room and stopped, unable to
go any further.  She waited.

"Scully?"  Mulder's voice, uncertain.  "Scully, I know
you're up.  Your light's still on."  

Her tongue felt thick and dry, like she'd been sucking
on cotton.  She forced the words out of her mouth. 
"Mulder, it's late."

"Scully, we have to talk about this.  About us."

"There's nothing to talk about, Mulder."

"How can you say that?  Scully, this is ridiculous. 
Let me in so I can talk to you, please?"

She took a few steps toward the door, then stopped
again.  "Mulder, I don't want to talk.  I'm tired."

"I just can't leave it like this.  How can you?"

"Mulder . . . I just can't do this right now."

"Scully, please don't shut me out.  We are friends,
aren't we?"

She sighed heavily and crossed the room, stopping just
in front of the door.  "Mulder . . . I really don't
want to let you in."

A pause.  "Are you afraid of me?"

"Of course not."

"Maybe you're afraid of yourself, then."

Her hand was at the chain, then the knob.  She opened
the door.  "Just what do you mean by that?"

"Well hello to you too, Scully."

"Mulder."

"Come on, Scully, let me in so your neighbors don't
have to hear all this, ok?"

She pursed her lips and stepped back.  Mulder brushed
past her and shoved his hands in his pockets as she
shut the door behind him.  "I'm not afraid, Mulder."

"So why did you pull away, then?  Why did you shut
down and act like it didn't even happen?"

"Because it shouldn't have."

"Why?  Because we're partners?"

"Mulder, do we have to do this now?"

"When do you suggest, Scully?  Tomorrow?  Next week? 
Will you even want to talk to me then?  Or maybe while
we're on a case, how about that?"

"Mulder -"

"Look, I'm *sorry.*  I just - I don't understand.  One
minute we were - and then the next -"

"I know."

"So talk to me, Scully.  It's me."

"That's just it, Mulder."  Scully walked over to the
window and looked out, tension written in every line
of her body.  Mulder followed her slowly, stopping a
few feet away.

"So it *is* me.  You're upset with me."

"No - I'm upset with myself."  She turned to him. 
"I'm sorry, Mulder.  It shouldn't have happened, and
I'm sorry.  Now, can we just leave it at that?"

"Leave it at what?  Scully, I'm trying to get a clue
here, but you're not making it easy."

"Do I have to spell it out for you?  Mulder, we had
sex in the backseat of a car."

"I was there, Scully.  I remember.  And as I also
remember -" he took a few steps closer "-we both
wanted it.  Or am I wrong about that?"

She stared at the floor.  "You're not wrong."

Mulder studied her.  "You're embarrassed."  Scully
said nothing.  "Scully, there's nothing to be
embarrassed about.  We both - I mean, we're adults,
and it's natural -"

She looked up.  "What's natural about any of it? 
Mulder, we crossed a line."

He shrugged.  "Lines are there to be crossed, Scully. 
We do it all the time."

"Not like this.  Not like tonight."

"Why not?"

Her voice rose.  "Because it *shouldn't* have
happened, Mulder.  Not with you."

He stared at her.  She lowered her gaze, clearly
uncomfortable.  Mulder took a deep breath.  "Right. 
Sorry, Scully, I should have realized that having sex
with Spooky Mulder wouldn't be high on your list of
things to do on a Friday night."

"Mulder -"

"No, no, I get it.  I'm good enough to chase monsters
and psychos with, but not good enough to fuck."

Scully huffed out a laugh of disbelief.  "God."

"At least I know now why you're so ashamed."

"I am *not* asha-"

"Well, you sure as hell are acting like it."  Mulder
paced the floor.  "Do you have any idea . . . the look
on your face when . . ."  He stopped to grip the back
of a chair.  "Was it really that bad, Scully?" he
asked in a softer voice.

"No, Mulder."  She walked closer to him.  "No."

Mulder sighed.  "Look, I know how . . . you can be, I
just thought . . . it seemed like -"

"How *I* can be?"

"Yeah, you . . . you don't exactly open up to me,
Scully, so I -"

"You think I don't open up?"

"You don't."

Scully crossed her arms over her chest.  "You're not
exactly an open book yourself, Mulder."  

"Don't.  Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Get defensive."

"I'm not defensive.  I'm simply stating a fact."

"Fine, Scully, state a fact.  State all the facts you
want.  That seems to be all you're going to do,
anyway."

"What would you like me to do?"

"Do I have to spell it out for you, Scully?" Mulder
mocked.

"Damn it!  What do you *want* from me, Mulder?"

"How about an honest feeling?"  He pushed at the chair
and she jumped.  "Is that too much to ask?  I want you
to show me what you showed me earlier tonight.  You
did open up to me, Scully.  And it was amazing.  So
why can't you do it now?"  Mulder moved around the
chair to stand in front of her, calming himself with
some effort.  He softened his voice.  "If you're not
afraid, and you're not embarrassed, and you're not
ashamed, then what are you?"  He reached out and
tipped up her chin gently.  "I need to know."

"I'm . . ."  She tasted the words in her mouth, then
faltered.  "I'm tired, Mulder."  Her voice trembled as
she looked into his troubled face.  "I just want to go
to bed and . . . start over tomorrow."

He released her chin and shook his head.  "I don't
even know why I came up here.  I really thought we'd
be able to talk about . . . us."

"There is no 'us,' Mulder.  There's us at work, but
there's no . . . us.  Not really."

"There could be."  He saw the look on her face and
tried again.  "Scully . . . I’m not sure what kind of
impression you have of me when it comes to women . . .
but I'm not exactly the love-'em-and-leave-'em type. 
And I don't take sex lightly."

"Mulder, I'm not expecting anything from you, and I’m
not asking for anything."

"Sure you are.  You're asking me to forget it."

"I think it would be best."

"For who?  For you?"

"For both of us."

"Since when do you speak for me, Scully?  What about
what I want?"

"That's all this is, isn't it?  Why does everything
have to be about you?  *You* want, *you* need.  This
is about what *I* want, Mulder.  And what I want is to
not talk about it anymore."

"Fine."  Mulder grasped her behind the neck, drawing
her toward him and covering her mouth with his.  The
assault was swift, and Scully barely had time to take
a breath before Mulder's tongue was exploring her,
tasting her.  She moaned in protest and put her arms
up, only to have him coax them down as he pulled her
even closer.  For a time they stood there, lost in one
another, until Mulder broke the kiss and pressed his
forehead to hers.  "Now that's an honest feeling," he
said.  He gathered her in his arms and rocked her
slowly.  " It's ok to feel it, Scully," he murmured
into her hair.  "Everything you saw and did and felt
tonight . . . it's ok.  It's real.  It's honest."

Scully was shaking.  It was about to happen again. 
All her reasoning, all her instincts were about to be
thrown out the window, all for the touch of this man. 
She pulled back slightly and glimpsed a flash of
triumph in his eyes.  It angered her.  "You don't know
what I felt, Mulder."

"Oh, you're wrong about that, Scully.  I know.  I'm
not just your partner.  I'm a man."

Mulder's hand was working its way from the small of
her back to the curve of her . . . she jumped and
tried to disengage, but he held her tightly against
him.  "Mulder, let me go."

He smiled.  "Why?  Can't you control yourself around
me?"

"This isn't funny, Mulder."

"I'm not laughing, Scully."  Mulder bent forward and
sucked on her neck.  She felt the jolt of arousal in
her belly and gripped his arms, unsure whether she
wanted to shove him away or hold onto him forever.

"Mulder, please . . ."

He pulled back and kissed her lips.  "I've got some
news for you, Scully.  You were excited tonight.  I
think you were more excited than you've been in a hell
of a long time, maybe even your whole life."

"I'm not a virgin, Mulder."  She spat the words. 
"I've done this before."

"I noticed."  Mulder let his fingers trail down her
front until they reached her breast.  He coaxed her
nipple to life, pulling at it lightly.  "But you've
never watched anyone do it before . . . have you?"

She gasped.

His lips were barely touching hers.  "You want some
more honesty, Scully?  I think you liked it," Mulder
whispered.  "I think you liked watching someone get
fucked . . . and then begging to get fucked yourself."

Her legs were beginning to wobble.  "No . . . "

"No?"  His hand found its way under her skirt. 
"You're wet now, aren't you?"  She tried to clamp her
legs together, but Mulder insisted, shoving his
fingers between her thighs to caress her mound.  "See
that?" he taunted her.  He dragged his fingers upward
repeatedly, stroking her through her panties.  "I'd
say that's a yes."

Scully whimpered as Mulder pressed his body hard
against hers, his erection making itself known rather
insistently.  "So wet, Scully . . . you're wet for me.
 Just like before.  When you let go."  He shifted and
thrust his hand into her panties, making her cry out.

"Oh, god . . ."

"You felt it, Scully.  You felt it then . . . and you
feel it now."  He curved his finger and inserted it
into her easily.  She clenched her thighs and began to
rock on his hand.  "It's so good between us, Scully. 
So good . . ."  Mulder kissed her again.  "We can find
a way through this."  Holding her close, he moved his
finger gently inside her as he spoke between kisses. 
"Just find it *with* me.  Not without me."

"Mulder . . . I . . . I don't . . ."

"You can just forget about asking me to forget about
it, Scully.  It's not going to happen."  Mulder
removed his finger and held her gaze.  "I know how you
taste now, Scully.  I'm not going to forget that
anytime soon."  He watched her as he sucked the
wetness from his finger, then took her lips again. 
Scully shivered as she tasted herself in Mulder's
mouth.  When she opened her eyes, he was gone.

The door nicked shut gently behind her.

End of Part 3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~