Pigs on the Wing by Trelawney

Pigs on the Wing cover


Pigs on the Wing by Trelawney

Pigs on the Wing cover

From: Trelawney <>

Date: Fri, 09 Apr 1999 02:14:05 GMT

Subject: NEW: Pigs On The Wing (1/8) MSR Undercover NC17

Pigs On The Wing

By Trelawney

Spoilers: FTF, Dreamland I & II, The Pilot, One Breath, Hell All of Them…Why are you reading fan fic if you don’t watch the show?

Fan Fiction Spoilers: Caught In The Act III by Parrotfish. The case happened, but the relationship between Mulder and Scully didn’t, safest bet would be to pretend CITAIII was a bunch of UST. My recommendation would be to read this story its incredible. Parrotfish this is a small homage to you. Please don’t take offense that I used your case. It’s been like two years since I read your story and it is still nagging the back of my mind. Besides, I’m just bored waiting for Arcadia to air.

Timeline: Sometime after Dreamland II. At least only for the purposes of this story.

Disclaimer: Well I don’t own Mulder, Scully, Kersch, Kersch’s Secretary, the rest. But you know this.

Rating: I’m a gonna say it’s NC17 for Language and Sex in Part Three.

Please send feedback to Not just to me but to all of the writers when you read their work. A short note means the world to writers. And so far everytime I have sent feedback I always get a response and that’s just as cool as reading the story.

Another Special Thanks to my special reader Louise who’s summary for this story is: Let your mind take you away to a small town and a bunch of whiney poor people and figure out where, when, and why M/S could fit in…THANKS! And to my beta reader who straightened me out on You’re and Your. THANKS!

Pigs On The Wing


Part One of Eight


If you didn’t care what happened to me – And I didn’t care for you – We would zig zag our way through the boredom and pain – Occasionally glancing up through the rain – Wondering which of the buggers to blame – And watching for pigs on the wing…

Pigs On The Wing (Part One) – Pink Floyd


In the radius of desks that make up our new and also lowered position in the totem pole of FBI hierarchy we are not the most favored nor are we the worst. Everyone knows who we are or were during our span of time spent with the X-files.

Some people look at us and know us with that thin veil of respect that we are good agents with an incomparable case solve record. And the others regard us with thinly veiled dislike and contempt. We are nothing more than tabloid freaks. Sometimes you know which side of the fence my co-agents are on and other times its harder to read.

But does it really matter anymore. The X-files are no longer ours. And we have been assigned to a base position, background checking, stakeouts, and overall fumbling about in the dark. But the dark is ours. Mulder and I can exist in the dark. We just can’t exist without each other.

Mulder left for lunch.

He really hates being in this subserviant position. He’s no longer Fox Mulder! WonderAgent! He’s not the blue plate special of the day anymore. This type of work is not why he joined the FBI. I can feel the strain he is going through. I sometimes feel I’m the only thing holding him together. If we had been reassigned and separated I know in my heart he would have already done something reckless and stupid and given the Bureau one last “Fuck You” as he stormed out of the Hoover building.

But maybe for once, the powers that be thought ahead and knew what would happened and did not think separating us would be such a smart idea. Bravo! But I feel the strain too. It’s something I did not feel the last time we were separated. But this time, well, its real I can feel the same boredom and unhappiness as Mulder, boiling under the surface. Writhing under my polished professionalism. But I have to keep it in check. So I can keep him reined in.

The phone begins to ring and for whatever reason I know its gonna be bad.


It was Kersch.

“Agent Scully, this is AD Kersch.”

“Yes, Sir, What can I do for you.”

“I need you to see my assistant immediately. You and your partner, Agent Mulder,” he still cannot say Mulder’s name without a touch, just a touch mind you, of revulsion. “You’ve been assigned a new case, starting immediately. You’ll need to pack for at least four weeks. This new case is an undercover assignment. You’ve been recommended for this assignment by this branch of the Bureau. You will receive further instructions from personnel in San Antonio.”

“San Antonio, Texas?”

“Yes.” He sighed and I can hear someone asking him something in the background. “I apologize for not being able to speak to you in person, but I’ll be in meetings all day and it is urgent that you get to San Antonio immediately.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Good Bye Agent Scully.” He hangs up without any further elaboration.

I am curious. Undercover. Hmmmm

We’d only been undercover together twice in all the years we had been together. Both had been years ago. The first had been to obtain the location and release of a boy kidnapped by a right wing neonazi group. Mulder had almost been brainwashed in the process.

Later we had been pulled into a impromptu undercover sting operation to assist the ATF to apprehend a small time hood and drug dealer. The later had occurred over a weekend and one of Mulder’s few acquaintances over at ATF had asked for his help. It was a small matter of going in and purchasing two kilos of cocaine. I went along as backup. All I had to do was keep quiet and smack my gum. It was at the time very embarrassing. Mulder got to wear dirty jeans, t-shirt, and his leather jacket. I, however, was forced to deck out in a very short mini skirt and a terribly short shinny top that showed my thankfully flat tummy. I had the lovely experience of having the insides of my elbows punctured with a sterilized pin and painted on contusions to give the impression of a heroin addiction.

The most disturbing part of the episode was when Mulder placed and did not remove his hand from my thigh. In the end it was an interesting experience and we nabbed the guy within twenty minutes.

I make my way to the elevators and up two floors to Kersch’s offi ce. SHE is there. Ugghh. I really don’t know what I ever did to tick Kersch’s secretary off but from day one we have never really hit it off. I didn’t think anything of it until we came back from Nevada. She changed. Oh I knew she had a thing for Mulder. Even as dense as he can be sometimes, even he knew it, but he never ever gave any indication that he was interested in her.

Until after Nevada.

It was after a meeting. We had to sign some paperwork and boom, all of a sudden she puts her hand over Mulder’s in a real intimate way. Like, well, like she was being possessive. And I thought “Oh Mulder. You ARE so stupid.” Because for an instant I thought he had fucked her. But I looked up at him and for once, for once I could tell he was as surprised and slightly disgusted as I was. Very smoothly he removed her hand signed the paperwork and left.

So smooth and all without saying a word. And if looks could kill. I would have been a dead player.


She’s acting like a total bitch. I swear I don’t know what I or even Mulder did to her but she does not disguise how she feels at all. As soon as I get to the office she tells me to wait and leaves me sitting on that uncomfortable office furniture couch for ten long minutes while she plays around on the phone and rummages through the filing cabinet.

Finally she picks up a thin file from her desk. Right under her perfect nose. Her perfect snotty little nose.

“Oh here it is.” She says.

I take it. “Thanks.”

She smiles in that horribly nauseating prissy way. “Looks like you guys will be out for a few weeks.” There is a small fleck of mascara on her cheekbone. There, now she’s not so perfect.

“That’s what Kersch indicated.”

“Have fun.”

I point the file at her. “I’ll do that.”

By the time I get back to my desk Mulder is back with food. “Forget it. We’ve got to move. Gotta case.” I flash the file at him. He reaches for it. But I pull it away. “UhUh, you be a my place in two hours. We have a four o’clock flight to take to San Antonio. Pack for four weeks.” I gather up my coat and briefcase and shut off my computer.

“San Antonio?” He asks.

I shrug. “This came down from Kersch.” I start away from the desk and then turn back. “Don’t forget to get somebody to feed your fish.” And I leave.



Woke up – Fell out of bed – Dragged a comb across my head – Found my way downstairs and drank a cup – And looking up I noticed I was late – Found my coat and grabbed my hat – Made the bus in seconds flat – Found my way upstairs and had a smoke – And somebody spoke and I went into a dream….

A Day In The Life – The Beatles


Packing for a long case is always difficult, but even more so when you find that you have no idea what going undercover is going to mean. I just hope I don’t have to be another junkie.

I pack quickly enough and peruse the file with the remainder of the time. Actually it wasn’t much of a file. Just a letter requesting two agents male and female that have enough of an attachment that they can pose as a married couple.

Married??? Great.

The remainder of the letter states that one, Donald Penopscott, has a connected uncle. One that is wanted by DEA, ATF, and FBI. The uncle one, Truman Mills, is suspected in the murder of twelve persons, two of which are local law enforcement. He is suspected of running firearms and drug trafficking out of Mexico where he resides. He has eluded capture for the past eight years. The nephew, Penopscott, has knowledge of his uncle’s whereabouts and hopefully can provide a means to capture Mills. Surveillance has been unsuccessful.

An attempt to send in an undercover agent was successful until Penopscott took a dislike to said agent. However, Agent Joe Mangione, was able to obtain information that will assist the two requested undercover agents.

Interesting. So if I understand this correctly we, Mulder and I, are supposed to befriend Penopscott and find out where his uncle is located or warn local FBI or his impending visit so they can capture. Great.

The name Penopscott bothers me but can’t figure out why.

I call my neighbor, the one with the ten year old daughter that for five bucks is willing to pick up my mail and water my plants when I’m on a case. This time I offer her daughter fifteen. She laughs and says no problem.

When Mulder’s cab pulls up I am already outside and he quickly loads my suitcase in the trunk of the cab. He grabs at the folder as soon as I am in the cab.

“Undercover.” He says it a little loud and I glance nervously at the driver. “You’ve got to be kidding.” He looks at me and continues to read the slight information. “We’ve got nothing to go on.”

“They are supposed to brief us in San Antonio.” I say looking out the window.

“Hmmm.” He perused the letters for the rest of the trip to the airport.

We check in our tickets and get clearance for our weapons. We are lucky we get two adjacent seats I as usual take the window and after a while realize no one will be taking the aisle seat. Mulder takes the opportunity to sprawl and take up every bit of available space.

It’s been six years of flying from one end of this planet to the other and across the country sometimes on a whim of my partner and I am still no more comfortable with flying than the first fateful trip we made to Oregon so long ago. I hate to fly.

The seatbelt sign goes off and Mulder unfastens the seatbelt and leans into the seat between us. Does he find that airplanes are the best way to get close to me? He taps his hand against my leg.

“You dig out that black miniskirt from the last undercover operation?” He asks.

“Oh God, Mulder please don’t remind me. That was so embarrassing.” I look away.

“You realize there’s every chance we will have to go through something similar.” He says seriously.

“Yes I do Mulder.” I open the folder and glance at the letter. “This looks even more disturbing, I believe they are asking us to play married couple for the time we’re targeting Penopscott.”

Mulder actually leers at me waggling his eyebrows. “That sounds promising.”

I shoot him one of my looks complete with the eyebrow. He only grins wider.

“Why does the name Penopscott sound familiar?” I ask knowing that big genius brain of his can usually solve the puzzles mine cannot.

He taps his fingers and then rubs the side of his nose. His eyes suddenly light up. “You ever watch M*A*S*H?”

“What has that got to do with anything?” I ask.

“Do you?”

I think, this has got to lead somewhere, think, think, THINK.

“Hot Lips’s fiance.” He finally says after I don’t answer.

Dammit! He’s right. “No Mulder that can’t be the only time I’ve ever heard that name.” My dad made me watch too many episodes of M*A*S*H in the seventies, long before remote controls and two TV’s in one household were the normal.

“Well it’s not real common. That’s the only place I’ve ever heard it.”

“Maybe.” I refuse to let him know he’s right.

He sighs and moves only slightly away. “This whole scene feels like we’re gonna do nothing but a real expensive baby-sitting job. I think Kersch is just trying to get rid of us for a few weeks.” He moves his hand in front his face. “This sucks.”

“Get some sleep Mulder. By the time we get through the layover in Dallas its gonna be late getting into San Antonio.”

“Hey, hey, remember Dallas?”

“How could I forget? I believe that’s one my top five places to forget.”

“What are the other four?”

I smile. “Secret.”

“You’re no fun.” He breathes into my ear. Mulder abruptly stands and pulls a pillow down from the overhead compartment. “Want one?” I shake my head no. He digs out his headphones and cd player. He lounges back into the seat and wads the pillow up under his head with the headphones covering his ears. “Gonna sleep.”

I hear the muted beginning of Lynard Skynard’s “Sweet Home Alabama” I turn my head and look out the window. Nothing but gray. I remember randomly the movie Con Air and Steve Buscemi’s line about irony.

I smile.



Peel me off this Velcro seat and get me moving – I sure as hell can’t do it by myself – I’m feeling like a dog in heat – Barred indoors from the summer street – I locked the door to my own cell and I lost the key…

Longview – Green Day


Dallas was one the most boring layovers. We were forced to wait an extra half hour and I placed a call to Agent Mangione to let him know our plane would not be arriving on time. He was pleasant and extremely happy to introduce himself.

“Agent Scully I cannot tell you how glad I am that Washington was able to send you down. This case has eaten up so much of our time. But I think we are really on the tail end of this thing. I know Mills is gonna be coming in soon and if we can just get a real feel from Don we can bust Mills in the act.” Mangione says over the phone.

“Well Agent Mulder and I will certainly do our best.” I reply.

He went on to give me a small rundown of Don Penopscott. Apparently the guy is a loud mouth asshole. This was Mangione’s description. Don liked to drink and he was well known for shooting his mouth off. Don took an instant dislike the Agent Mangione and after that Mangione came up against a brick wall as far as getting any useful information.

“He just needs a drinking partner y’know. I swear this guys got such a hard on for free beer.” He cleared his throat. “‘Scuse the language.”

“That’s fine. Why two agents though? How am I supposed to help? This guy doesn’t sound like he opens up to women.” I ask.

“He don’t. He’s gotta woman though, and your expected to target her. You’ll both be given regular-like jobs in key positions and all you gotta do is befriend Brandy and Don.”

“Her name is Brandy?”

“Yeah, And believe me she’s no ball of fun neither. She’s a bit of a tramp and she whines a lot. But if you can get in good with her and her trampy friends I think you may get as much information as Agent Mulder.”

“So Agent Mulder had better handle his liquor, right?”

“Thass a fact.”

San Antonio is not a very pretty sight. Even at night. I guess after so many flights and so many arrivals I have really gotten used to airports and their respective views, but after seeing LAX and Vegas there just is no real comparison. But the airport was easy to navigate and collect our luggage and soon we were meeting the now slightly infamous Agent Joe Mangione.

Mangione is tall and heavyset with dark backcombed hair and a gruff manner. Good-looking in that “older man” way like when your a kid and you think your best friend’s dad is nice looking. He gruff manner reminds me of Detective Sipowitz from NYPD Blue. He looks like a cop, acts like a cop, dresses like a cop, yep, I think he’s a cop. Even I, with my still limited knowledge of this case can see how he couldn’t have been expected to get along with Don Penopscott and his girlfriend much less ferret out confidential information.

Joe is not alone. There is a real looker next to him. Now this guy is good looking with a capital G. Hispanic male approximate age in his mid thirties, dark hair combed back, designer clothes, nice smile, bedroom eyes, good looking. Oh did I mention good looking already. Oh excuse ME. Joe steps forward interrupting my thoughts…

“Agent Mulder, Agent Scully?” At our synchronized nod he smiles and I can see a gold crown in the back. “Great, so happy ta meet ya. This is my partner, Rene Espinoza, we hope this turns out quick and painless for tha both of ya.”

I can’t place his accent and don’t really have time. I swear Agent Espinoza is encompassing my entire world.

I am however not so indisposed that I can’t shake hands. First Mulder and then me. Joe steers us away toward the exit.

It’s a 1968 Plymouth Roadrunner. It used to be some kind of yellow. And this is the car they are giving us to go undercover. THIS is our vehicle for the remainder of our time as Robert and Lisa Mulder. Oh I CANNOT believe this. They decided to keep Mulder’s last name based on the fact that we have not spent much time undercover before. Is that rust?

Within the hour the agents assisting us have already noticed that Mulder and I call each other by our last names and they added a cute story to our new profile. My maiden name is Scully and we, that is Robert and I, like to call each other by our last names. Basically our profile is simple.

Been together six years. Ok I can handle that.

Married for a year. Ok.

He’s gonna go to work at the warehouse that Don has been employed at for three years. Unloading trailers.

I, lucky me, have been gainfully employed at Lucky’s Liquor Store and local convenience store that serves gas, milk, and Jim Bean. Oh joy! It is located next door to the pharmacy where Brandy works.

We have a lovely one bedroom apartment furnished so thoughtfully by the San Antonio Branch of the FBI with help from the Seguin Police Department. At least I know who to thank. And you notice I said one bedroom.

Of course this all occurs in the very small town of Seguin. A small township about thirty minutes southeast of San Antonio.

And I should have packed the black miniskirt.

Part Two of Eight



I’m a loser baby – So why don’t you kill me?

Loser – Beck


We have one last night as Fox and Dana before going undercover for as long as it takes to nail Truman Mills to the preverbial wall.

We each got a nice room at the Days Inn Airport. Rene let in a woman with frizzy dark hair and a face like a horse complete with yellow horse teeth, she was introduced as Mandy Clerk and she was to get our respective wardrobes assembled by noon tomarrow. She quickly took our sizes paying particular attention to me. It seems we ladies always get the long end of the stick on wardrobe collections.

She smacked nicotine gum tilted her head toward Mulder and asked me if she needed to include any little sexy black nighties.

With a tight little smile I tell her I can use my own pajamas. She smacked again and scribbled on her yellow legal pad. Where did they find this woman?

Mulder once again is to be loaded up with jeans and t-shirts and the occasional nice pullover. And once again he gets to wear that black leather jacket.

Agent Mangione with his heavy accent I STILL can’t place expels on Don Penopscott. “He’s an asshole. God ya can’t imagine how that word describes this guy. Anyway he is real pussywhipped by the girlfriend so as long as Scully gets in good with her I think ya can be in. And supply tha beer. He’s a real drinka. This guy will drink anything. But his favorite is Coors Light.” Mulder shudders and Joe nods understandingly. “But tha car is tha key. It’s your free pass with Don.”

Evidently Don’s is a big fan of anything made by Dodge or Plymouth through the years 1966 – 1971. Muscle cars is what I’m told they are, thankfully Mulder knows something about them. What he doesn’t know he’s gonna have to research. The reason this car is considered our ticket is that if all else fails Don will definitely be interested in befriending us to get close to the car. This roadrunner with, I’m told, a 440 six pack, bucket seats, original interior, and a pistol grip shifter, is Joe’s legacy to us. He discovered Don’s weakness right before getting out and now we get to roll up and hit pay dirt.

Don Penopscott had really done little in his life to warrant such an intense investigation, however, he is the key to obtaining his uncle’s whereabouts. For the last year he had begun a setup on the side helping his uncle with getting rid of various hot merchandise, mainly pickup trucks that are hot items in Mexico. It was like a chop shop without the chopping. His uncle could be up from Mexico in under four hours and at an arranged location to pick up the stolen vehicle. The money is left at another location and everyone is happy.

“Aside from this he’s a real loser. Little drugs, little shoplifting, couple of assault and battery, and some public intoxication. Nothin’ and I mean nothin’ that we can bust him with for real. If we coulda busted him before and gotten a confession believe me it woulda been done like that.” He snaps his fingers.

Rene agreed. “He’s nothing but small frys man. But the uncle. He’s a real bad ass.”

Truman Mills aka Real Bad Ass is primarily wanted for the murder of the two highway patrol officers from June 19, 1997. He shot both men in the back of the head after they pulled him over for suspected drunk driving. Turns out Truman was driving erraticly due to multiple stab wounds inflicted during a bad drug deal. He pretended to be drunk to get both officers off guard and then disarmed them.

After ordering them to get on their knees by the side of the road he shot each in the head execution style. Truman was only a suspect in the other alleged murders and they had occurred more than six years ago. Mills was never formally charged with murdering anyone other than the two highway patrolmen.

Truman’s other alleged crimes such as the drug traficking, stolen contraband, and smuggling are considered minor compared to his misdeeds to Texas law officials.

I left Mulder’s room a little after midnight and left him sitting up swapping tales and pertinent information with Joe and Rene.

Rene. Ummm Rene. He is a story all his own. He was originally supposed to go in as the undercover agent with Joe as backup. This was blown when Rene’s wife who was only thirty-three weeks pregnant went into labor. After a nightmare period of his wife being hospitalized for three long weeks his little girl of only two pounds seven ounces was born. Rene and his wife stayed round the clock at the hospital and the investigation was handled albeit unsuccessfully by Joe.

Baby Kelly Marie Espinoza is now in stable condition, weighing in at a whopping four pounds and six ounces. Rene is hoping she can go home next week. He loves his wife and daughter and seven year old son and once again I’m stuck with Mulder.

Not that I’m complaining.

The morning is spent going over Don and Brandy’s colorful existence and Truman Mill’s foal deeds.

And of course we get to find out more about our new jobs.

I am so happy. Pinch me please.



Man you ain’t got to explain shit – I’ve been robbin’ motherfuckers since the slave ships – With the same clip and the same four-five – point blank range a motherfuckers shore to die…

Gimme The Loot – The Notorious B.I.G.


Mandy Clerk did a good job finding clothes for us on such short notice. I was right.

Miniskirts and tight T-shirts.

Painted on jeans and gold hoop earrings.

High heel shoes and cowboy boots.

A little black dress and a handmade leather vest.

Well the black dress wasn’t so bad. It was too short and the scoop neckline was way too low. Well Mulder should like it. At least now he’ll know I have legs and breasts.


The Vista Del Ray Apartments were straight out of a Quentin Tarantino movie. Made of concrete block walls with peeling seafoam green and peach paint they were two story with two black metal stairwells. Our apartment was unit 207.

Mulder and I carried boxes up the stairs and waited for Jimmy Delta to join us with the key. Jimmy is our local law enforcement contact. He is a detective with the Seguin Police Department. If something should go wrong or we can’t get in touch with Joe, Jimmy will provide back up.

He arrives puffing up the stairs balancing two boxes that he dumps on the landing and produces the key.

“I want you to know we really did try to get you better accomadations.” He unlocks the door and Mulder pushes it open with his foot. “We’re just on a tight budget and well with the jobs you two got you won’t be able to afford much better than this anyway.”

My first impression of this palace is the carpet. Ugly dull brown probably installed in the last decade. And the kitchen floor is straight out of 1978, yellow gold vinyl with brown flowers. Oh and there’s a harvest gold refrigerator mix matched with a avacodo green gas stove. The place looks clean and I move into the bedroom. The bedroom is fairly large with a rather nice light wood bedroom suite and a computer desk with a pc. A fair size walk in closet is next to the bath. The bath is off the bedroom and the vinyl is newer probably 1990. White with little blue flowers to match the blue towells and scarce accesories the Seguin PD has been able to provide us.

I go back into the living room. The couch is used navy leather. The dinette is a small white pine with four chairs. Along the wall opposite the couch is a mid size entertainment center with a stereo and 26 inch television.

It could be better. I could be worse. But where is Mulder going to sleep?

Jimmy is talking explaining to Mulder and I tune back in. “We rented some of the furniture from a local consignment shop and some stuff we rented from Colortyme. My wife really got into this and helped decorate. She also lend the dishes and pots and pans. Their for our daughter when she goes off to college next year. Since my wife got most of it second hand she figured one more person using the stuff wasn’t going to hurt.”

“You told your wife?” I ask.

“Nah, I just told her we had a couple coming in to train at the station for a month.” He moves to the door. “Lets get the rest of this stuff so you can start unpacking.”

I let him and Mulder get the other boxes. Most everything we need is furnished and the only real thing to unpack would be our clothes. Mulder and I have to go to the store later and pick up bathroom and kitchen needs.

Jimmy brings in the last box and says his goodbyes and Mulder and I are left staring at each other.

He looks around poking at the entertainment center glancing over the CD and video collection loaned to us. “Hey Lisa! We got Tom Petty’s Greatest Hits and and The Eagles!” He runs a finger along the top of about thirty cds. “Metallica, Garth Brooks, Patsy Cline, Sex Pistols, Queen, Mamas & the Papas, Marty Robbins, Snoop Dog, hey we got quite a collection here!” His hand finds the remote. He steps back and falls onto the couch clicking the TV on. “And we got cable.”

I move into the bedroom with one of the boxes. Six packages of plastic hangers are on a shelf in the closet and I open the boxes and start to hang up my new wardrobe.

I call out to Mulder. “Bring those other boxes in here and help me unpack.”

“That’s woman’s work! Hey wife bring me a beer!” Is his response. But he shows up a few moments later with the boxes and we start rummaging through sorting out clothes for the dresser and clothes to hang up.

I move to fold and put away the underwear. Somehow it is way too intimate to imagine Mulder folding my bras. He has a large collection of boxers and sport boxers that Mandy found on sale.

While Mulder finishes hanging up the last of the clothes I move into the kitchen to see if we need to purchase anything. Aside from food it looks as though we are pretty well stocked. We even have food basics, non perishables such as flour, sugar, tea, coffee, and some non food items, such as Tide, Clorox, and Windex.

Mulder comes out of the bedroom and I reach for my new purse, a see-through green bag with plastic handles, and we are on our way.

Mulder drives slowly by the liquor/convenience store that I’m going to be working at tomorrow. Two blocks away is a Wal-Mart Superstore and we move inside to stock up.

Mulder must really like junk food. Three kinds of ice cream, chips, bagels, milk, cocoa puffs, I throw in stuff for a salad and get some chicken to bake. Mulder runs off and meets me by the pharmacy with two cans of ravioli, Campbell’s soup, and the economy size orange juice. We scout for toothpaste, deodorant, shampoo, and lotion. I notice we forgot toilet paper and paper towels and Mulder insists we need the 200 count package of Styrofoam paper plates.

We drag our plastic over paper laden butts home and unpack.

“Wanna go out and eat?” Mulder suggests after stuffing his three cartons of ice cream in the freezer.

I think about it. “Yeah, but I want to change first ok?”

He nods and heads off for the TV. I go into the bedroom, our bedroom, and scramble through the closet for something decent to put on. My leggings and sweater are not going to get to grace this body again until after we solve our case. I decide on tight white jeans and a black tank top with Mulder’s leather jacket over everything. If he wants it, well tough.

Mulder notices the jacket when I come out but I think he is preoccupied with some NBA lockout news on ESPN Sportscenter.

“Yeah!” He suddenly jumps up from the couch. I’m so startled I drop the car keys. “Yes, Yes, YES!” He dances around in a circle and grabs my hand swinging my arm as he does a little jig.

“What is it?”

“Lockout is OVER.” He laughs like crazy. I don’t know if I have ever seen him this excited. “They are going to be signing contracts over the next week. The Knicks are back!” Again a little dance and then he swipes at the keys I just picked up. “I’m driving wife.” And he saunters out the door.

Dinner is at a local diner and isn’t half bad. Mulder gradually comes down from his NBA high and our conversation centers on the pros and cons of convenience store clerking. I have to admit on the ride home I’m definitely getting nervous about our sleeping arrangements.

When we get home it is rather late and Mulder heads off for the shower. I drift around the house keeping half an eye on the local news. Mulder is out of the shower in two shakes and I gather my panties, flannel shorts, and one of the t-shirts Mandy purchased.

I had already been horrified to find two skimpy nightgowns and a three-pack of throng panties with the other underwear she had purchased for me. Mulder did not use all the hot water and afterwards I pad into the kitchen to take my vitamins. I started taking my vitamins before bed when I had cancer, they cause less nausea that way.

Mulder is still sprawled on the couch when I go around the corner. I take the comfy chair by the window. “Your orientation is at eight right?”


“You’ll be ok walking.” The liquor store is only a block and a half away at the nearest major intersection. Local guys decided I didn’t need a car.

“No problem. I’m going to bed. Are you going to watch TV for a while?”

“I’ll be in bed later.” He doesn’t look at me and I’m afraid if he does my knees will start to shake. I’m pretty stoic most of the time but imagining Mulder in bed with me is not good for my libido.

I move off to the bedroom and close the door. Moving the covers back and shutting off the lamp beside the bed, I double check the alarm for five thirty. Mulder has to be up early so he can run before dawn.

I lay in the bed and I remember last year on a case we had in Atlantic City and there were no rooms available without driving all the way across the city. We had to share a bed that night and neither of us slept well. Everytime our bodies even remotely touched we would jump apart. Of course this was right after I found out about the cancer and after I messed up our relationship with that stupid mistake with Ed Jerse. Now, I cannot imagine going for the rest of this case with no sleep. Maybe he’ll take the couch.

I must have fallen into a really deep sleep because I never heard Mulder get into bed. I am awake now. He just got up to use the bathroom. I hear the toilet flush and he steps quietly next to the bed. The dip from his body into the mattress causes my own to roll into him slightly and I can hear his indrawn breathe. I lay as still as possible and after a time hear his light snoring. Gradually I doze back into sleep.



His sister Pam works in the shop, she never stops, she’s a go getter.

Polythene Pam – The Beatles


I met Brandy today. She’s short and dark and petite. I don’t think I’m that little though. She looks like she buys her clothes in the juniors department. She also whines. A lot. She didn’t come in alone, Don was with her to pick up beer and a small bottle of pina colada mix. She wanted to know if I was the new day person. She was real friendly and I tried real hard to be the same. I don’t know if it worked or not.

It’s been three days. Mulder only met Don yesterday but they didn’t speak. Mulder’s got his hands full right now learning how to drive a forklift and something called a PE. He says its supposed to be second nature but he’s having trouble lining up the forks when lifting a pallet. His warehouse talk starts to bore me after awhile. It’s amazing how much gossip he has already heard after such a short time. I never realized he is so into other people’s problems. Tomorrow our plan is that I ask Brandy if she comes in where is a good place to go hang out at in this town. Not really my style of conversation but I’ve got to get in her face somehow.

This morning when the alarm went off Mulder’s arm was around my middle his hand pressed against my belly and my hips were pushed up against his morning erection. He jumped out of bed so fast all I could see was a flash of his white Ralph Lauren sport boxers as he grabbed his running shorts and a sweatshirt. He was walking back in the door from his run before I went back to sleep.

To say I don’t like my new job is an understatement. At the same time I can see how it could be much worse. Aside from checking out customers I have to take an inventory at the end of my shift. I restock whatever sells the most.

Eric Payne is the second shift guy and he is the one who trained me. He towers over me. I think he would tower over Mulder. He’s black and skinny with a full afro. He’s a flamboyant dresser. He is also gay. He made me laugh so hard while he was training me that I find it wondrous that I absorbed any of his training. Eric has a talent for finding a way to call the regular customers by the name from someone they resemble from television. This one guy he calls Little Cesear looks just like the Little Cesear’s Pizza guy. The one that says “Pizza! Pizza!” He even got the guy to say it. I was laughing so hard.

The job is definately mindless and I miss using my brain. Will I remember how to remove the intestines and stomach contents of a corpse when this is over? I smile to myself wondering what Eric would say if he knew my real job. He has already showed a sense of awe and superstition when the local mortician came in and bought a bottle of Myers Rum and a Absolut Vodka. Would Eric be so willing to joke with me if he discovered I handle the dead as easily as I sell gas and beer?

I met Mrs. Pope today. Now this woman is awful. Well truth is she is a bitch. She’s a real large woman with an obvious metabolism problem. She is so large she has to wear only dresses and walks with two canes. Eric hates her and she hates Eric. She instantly berated him for his sexual preferences and he called her a fat bitch to her face and left it to me to take care of her gas and liquor bill while he moved to the storeroom.

She looked me over with dark beady eyes. She ordered me to go get her a Club Mix Strawberry. Nevermind that I had two people waiting in line to pay for gas. “Go get it girl.” Her chins waggled when I told her I would help her in just one minute.

She slams her right cane against the counter. “I said go and get it girl.”

Now I’m pissed.

“Maam, I will help you when I’m done with these customers. If you do that again I will refuse to serve you.”

That stopped her from banging her cane but she still mumbled under her breath until I got her drink from the regrigerator unit in the back of the store. She purchased two quick pick tickets for the lottery that night and six scratch off tickets. I expected her to leave and she didn’t. Oh no, she took a quarter and scratched every ticket right there at the counter while the guy with a welder’s hat who needed to pay $11.38 in gas waited behind her. She didn’t even redeam her tickets. She just limped out. I was glad to see her go.

“That woman is a B I T C H.” Eric called in a singsong voice from the storeroom. I made change for the welder hat guy and moved to the doorway of the storage room.

“Why did you leave me alone with her.”

“Hey baby, you got to deal with it.” He picked up a case of Jack Daniels. “She comes in here probably once a day and always gets a Club Mix and lotto tickets. You can call her whatever you want and she won’t stop coming. I’ve gotten her so mad before she damn near had a heart attack. Now its just not worth it anymore.”

“Who is she?”

“What you mean?”

“Is she someone of importance in town? Where does she work?”

“Oh.” He opened the case with a boxcutter and started restocking the bottles. “She does a lot of charity work here in town. I think she probably bullies herself onto the committees and nobody thinks to say no because its volunteer work.”

“How long has she been this big?”

Eric waved a bottle of Jack at me. “That fat bitch has been like that since I was a little boy. I remember being in the supermarket and she was in front of us. Her fat ass knocked over a display when she walked by and she told the manager it was my momma who did it.”


“Yeah, but he knew it was her. Everybody knows how Mrs. Pope is and she takes advantage of it. Like she the ecentic matriarch of Seguin or somethin’.”

If Mrs. Pope was the most annoying part of my day. The most interesting is the backwards man. His name is Mr. Quintar and I was only able to learn this from Mrs. Pope. Eric said he had been walking backwards since he was a kid and everybody knows him as the backwards man. He walks all over town, backwards. Eric says he was shellshocked in WWII.

Mr. Quintar comes in every couple of days to buy a bottle of Thunderbird. Doesn’t talk at all and pays in cash. But I can see him several times a day walking backwards down the street. And as nice as it is to serve a customer that doesn’t want to engage in conversation he does smell. Bad.

Mulder thinks my job is hilarious. He keeps threatening to come by but so far he has worked late everyday. If he isn’t trying to train on the forklifts he has to unload the trailers by hand. It’s hard work and he comes home sweaty and dirty heading instantly for the shower. His back has been killing him in the evening. When I go over to talk to Brandy I’m going to get him some sports cream to massage into his strained muscles.

He is also ravenous. He eats all the time. When I made the chicken the first time I had intended to have leftovers. I certainly don’t want to cook every night. But Mulder ate it all.

Part Three of Eight



Meat-eating orchids forgive no one just yet – Cut myself on angel’s hair and baby’s breath – Broken hymen of your highness I’m left black – Throw down your umbilical noose so I can climb right back…

Heart-Shaped Box – Nirvana


I had a dream during the night.

I was back in Anarctica. In the ice pod. Mulder had just injected the vaccine into my shoulder and I could feel the alien being leaving my body.

But then something became terribly wrong. Mulder walked away and Alex Krycek came into the edge of my field of vision. He was standing there and looking at me with such an evil grin. Then his eyes turned black. When he spoke his voice sounded strangled.

“Agent Scully. The vaccine was too weak. Mulder wouldn’t pay the price for the full vaccine.”

Somehow I spoke around the tube in my throat. “What do you mean?”

“They wanted his life. They wanted the files. And he wouldn’t pay the price.”

He turned to walk away and all I could do was scream. “Alex! Alex!”

I felt the pull of the cord around my neck begin to contract and I could not breathe.

I came awake to find Mulder’s arm casually thrown across my throat. It explained my nightmare and my terror. I violently threw his arm off my chest and he jerked awake suddenly. He raised up on his knees wild eyed and his hair sticking at odd angles.

“What!. Scully?”

I sat up. “It’s okay. Your arm was across my throat and I panicked.”

He looked sheepish in the light coming in from the window. “Sorry. You okay now?”

I run my hands over my face and lay back. “Yeah. Go back to sleep Mulder.”

He lay beside me and to my surprise cuddled up next to my side. “Wanna tell me about it?”


“The nightmare.”

“What makes you think I had a nightmare?”

He doesn’t exactly wrap an arm around me but somehow he presses closer. “I can just tell. You can trust me y’know. I’m a psychologist.”

“It was your major, Mulder, but you’re not practicing.”

He laughs and the movement presses his hips against the side of my thigh, and he’s hard. Ohmygod he’s hard. He pulled away just as suddenly and we lay in the dark. The air thickens with an uncomfortable silence.

Mulder sits up and grabs a pillow and starts toward the door. I sit up again and ask “Where are you going?”

He doesn’t turn around. “Living room. I’m just going to watch some TV.”

“Mulder.” He still doesn’t turn. “Mulder, please come back to bed.”

Almost as soon as the words were out of my mouth the atmosphere changed and we were back to normal. He turned and smiles and leapt onto the bed. “Is that an invitation Agent Scully?”

“Good night, Mulder.” I roll back over on my side facing away from him and shove my arms under the pillow. After only minutes I hear his light snore float across the bed.

The next day after work I approach the pharmacy. I pass Mr. Quintar on the way, or he passes me, I don’t know how to explain our passing.

Brandy is on the phone when I enter the pharmacy. I quickly find a tube of TheraGesic and move to the cash register. She holds up a finger and makes a face into the phone.

I pick up a pamphlet on Claradin and observe her as she scribbles on a notepad. This is the second chance I have had to look her over. She really is tiny. I almost feel tall standing next to her. She’s only a little over five feet and she looks childlike. This time I can see the Native American genes in the bones of her face. She’s wearing hot pink hospital scrubs. Brandy hangs up the phone and I place the pamphlet back with the others.

“Can I help you?”

“Just this.” I hand her the tube and she rings it up.

“You’re the new girl at Lucky’s right?”

“Yes. My name is Lisa Mulder.” I hold out my hand and she shakes it.

“Brandy Zullman, $3.29.”

I hand her a five and she makes the change.

“My husband and I are new in town.”

She looks only mildly interested and hands me the receipt and bag.

“Can you recommend anything to do for fun around here?”

She actually puts her finger in her mouth and chews on the nail. “Ummmm where are you from?”

That didn’t exactly answer my question. “Baltimore.” She looks confused.

She asks around her finger. Remind me not to get any prescriptions filled here. “Like, where’s that? Up north?”

Oh God, how do I explain simple geography to a grown woman. “Its in Maryland, near Washington D.C.”

“Really?” Her finger pops out. “What did you do for fun there?”

Shit. I never expected this. “Ummm.” Well we investigated flukemen, alien abductions, and conspiracy theories. “Oh I don’t know,” vague Scully real good, “Clubbing, and ummm y’know the mall, shopping…” I sound like one of those brainless teenagers from 90210.

Her eyes spark. Contact at last. “Cool. We usually go over to The Watering Hole most nights, have a few beers, dance, visit…They have a great dance floor.”

“Thanks. Sounds good, ummm are you going over there after work today?”

She giggles. “No. That place doesn’t start hopping until later, like after dark.” Again she didn’t answer my question.

“Well thanks again. Maybe we will see you there.”

She picks up a pen and taps the register. “Whad ya do? Strain something lifting one the crates of Wild Turkey?”

She floored me. Isn’t it a pharmacy’s oath to the public never ever ever ask questions about why your customer is purchasing medicine. I can picture her asking me the same question if I was buying a vaginal suppository. “No my husband has had a sore back since he started his new job at Sun Farms.”

She’s still tapping the pen. “Oh my husband works at Sun Farms. What’s your husband’s name?”

She’s floored me again, and I almost forget to answer her, when did they get married? “Oh its Robert Mulder.”

“Oh yeah,” tap-tap-tap-tap “Don mentioned him yesterday. Something about a car.”


Well chalk one up for Joe. He was right about the car. “Probably our Roadrunner. That car is Mul er Robert’s baby.”


I’m about to grab the pen when she tosses it down nodding. “Don feels the same way.”

The bell above the front entrance jingles and a young man with a painful poison ivy rash over his face and neck enters and waits behind me. “Well like I said, maybe we will see you around.”

“‘kay.” She give me a little wave as I exit.



Cover me with kisses baby, cover me with love – Roll me in designer sheets I’ll never get enough – Emotions come I don’t know why, cover up love alibi – Call me, on the line, call me – Call me, any, anytime – Call me, on the line – When your ready we can share the wine – Call me…

Call Me – Blondie


The walk home is a short one. I still can’t believe that the weather is so nice. I has been so warm the last few days and today I don’t even need to wear a jacket. The sun is out and the sky is a brilliant blue. My brain registers that despite everything about this case, I am in a great mood.

When I get to the apartment I leave the front door open and open the living room windows for some fresh air. I browse our meager selection of CDs and choose Blondie’s Greatest Hits. I had laid out steak earlier this morning and I begin cutting up vegetables to roast with it in the oven. After the food is in the oven I toss a green salad and lay out one of those low-fat frozen cream pies for a dessert.

When I am happy like today my favorite thing to do is cook and clean. I think its nervous energy built up from all the tension that goes with my job. After everything is set up in the kitchen I sort laundry. Now I think this is so strange. I have already become so accustomed to this new domesticated life that I can sort Mulders dirty whites along with my own.

I log on to the internet on the pc in the bedroom and check my e-mail. There are no new messages. I quickly type a status report and e-mail it to Rene at the San Antonio office.

Mulder walks through the open door later than usual. I’m in the kitchen checking the steak when I hear him come in. I look around the wall separating the kitchen from the living room and notice how stiffly he’s walking. He yells that he’s going to take a hot shower and heads for the bedroom.

While he’s in the shower I put the white load of clothes in the dryer.

He’s only in for a few minutes and then meets me in the kitchen wearing only a pair of baggy Old Navy jeans. I avoid looking at his chest.

“Smells good.”

“Thanks. I got something for you.” I walk over to the table and pick up the tube of TheraGesic.

“Oooo Scully. You are the bomb.”

“Go get on the bed and I make you feel all better.” I can play his game.

“Talk dirty to me Scully.”

I go in the bathroom and grab a handtowel and wet a washcloth. He’s already laying across the bed.

I kick off my shoes and move across the bed on my knees and straddle his hips. I pour the cream onto the sore spot along his right lower back and begin to rub and massage the muscle.

“Oh Goood.” He moans into the bed.

This is more intimate than we have been in a long time. In fact aside from a real serious medical emergency I would say we have never been this close. His back is strong and corded with taunt muscles. He has put on weight this winter and I fear its because we are no longer chasing the little gray men he finds so fascinating.

The spot where I rubbed the cream in is starting to loosen up so I move my hands elsewhere alternately rubbing and soothing and deeply digging my fingers in to his soft skin. There is a tiny pimple at the top of his shoulder blades and before I think about it I pinch it between my thumb and index finger.

Mulder yelps. “Ouch. Woman don’t do that without warning me.”

“What’s with this woman talk?”

“Well now Mrs. Mulder you’re my woman right?”

“Whatever Mulder.” I’m done and I move off of him and give a light pat on his denim covered butt.

“Hey, hey, watch those hands Special Agent Dana Scully.”

I wipe my hands with the cloth. “I thought it was Mrs. Mulder.”

“Mrs. Mulder sounds like my mom.” He rolls over and puts his hands behind his head. “Are you my mommy?”

I’m trying real hard not to smile.

“I’ve been a good boy mommy. Do I get a reward.”

I turn away before he sees my mouth turn up.

“Dinner’s ready. If you want to eat I suggest you throw on a shirt and meet me in two.”

Dinner is quiet and I have a feeling Mulder wants to discuss something with me but he doesn’t say anything by the time we are finished.

“You load the dishwasher.”

He nods and I help clear the table. I put the leftovers away in containers and cover the remainder of the pie with foil and load the refrigerator.

Mulder shakes dishwasher soap and closes the door.

“Think you could wash that stuff off my back before we go?”


I follow him into the bathroom and wet a washcloth with a little soap. He removes his shirt and I scrub the area I massaged earlier. I rinse the cloth and then run it back over the soapy area. “Done.”

“Thanks.” He walks over drops the toilet seat down and sits.

“Do you think things are going well?” He asks.

I rinse the cloth out under the faucet. “You mean is the investigation going well.”

I get out my cosmetics and begin to repair my makeup job from earlier in the day.

“Among other things, yes.”

I ignore his “other things” comment.

“Yes.” I add darker eyeliner and more mascara than usual around my eyes. “I think we are ahead of schedule if everything Joe told us is true. Of course we will know a lot more after tonight.”

If it is possible to lounge on a toilet then Mulder has mastered it. “I hope Don is friendly enough to want to hang out with us.”

“Yeah, Joe was right. He is an asshole.”

I plug in the curling iron and smile. “You think we can find this place tonight?” I start brushing out my hair.

“Yep.” He starts spinning the toilet paper roll with his index finger. “I printed out a map of Seguin with the location marked. You can still read a map can’t you?”

“Like a pro.” I call out as I move into the bedroom. I grab a black miniskirt and a white silk blouse that is cut low. “Don’t come out.”

“Why not?” He whines.

I ignore him and strip off my jeans and t-shirt. I pull on the black Wonderbra that Mandy had insisted I would need and fasten the back. Then I don the blouse and skirt. Little black half boots with big clunky heels complete the outfit.

When I go back into the bathroom Mulder whistles low. I look in the mirror and have to admit those Wonderbras work magic. My breasts look an entire cup size bigger and I’ve got some serious cleavage peeking through the V of my blouse.

I use the curling iron to make big soft curls around my face and hairspray soon makes a cloud of aerosol in the close confines of the room. Mulder waves his hand in front of his face to clear away the spray.

I hear the amusement in his voice. “Scully is it just me or did your breasts get bigger?”

Mulder steps up to the counter next to me and digs in my cosmetics. He takes out a lipstick and examines it like its a key piece of evidence. He preens in the mirror and our eyes meet in the reflection, “Does this color look good with my outfit?” he asks and then he pushes out his full lips and smacks them like a porn star.

I toss the hairbrush at him. “Comb your hair.”

I go back into the living room. He comes out with a denim shirt pulled on over a black t-shirt. He looks lost for a moment and I wonder whats gotten into him while I dig in my purse.

I’m surprised when he walks over to me and opens his palm. Two gold wedding bands gleam in the light from above the table.



I could stay home everynight – Wait around for Mr. Right – Take cold showers everyday – And throw my life away – On a dream that won’t come true…

There Are Worse Things I Could Do – Stockard Channing/Grease Soundtrack


The Watering Hole is only noticeable in the dark of the night because there are so many cars surrounding the building. It is a non-descript building with no windows and no other real redeeming features. There is no real parking lot just a jumble of vehicles of all make and models.

Mulder steers me toward the entrance with the familiar touch of his hand at the small of my back. A deputy sheriff from the Guadalupe County Sheriff’s Department takes a look at our issued fake identification and we enter.

In the car, on the way over, I thought about the scene back at the apartment.

I had never given a thought to the two of us wearing wedding bands. Joe had certainly never mentioned it and with him being a confirmed bachelor it did not surprise me.

He was nervous. Mulder made a big production of putting the ring on my finger. I could not help but recall the words he said in the hospital in Miami after his boating accident. The thought made my stomach tighten and that scared me.

Mulder was about to say something and I was leaning in to listen when the shrill of the phone interrupted us.

I tossed him the cordless from off the table and he answered. “Mulder. Er Robert Mulder.”

I hid my smile.

“Yeah. Ok. Yeah. No she’s not. No she hasn’t. Frohike, what exactly are you implying?. Well perhaps you’d like to take that up with Agent Scully?”

Mulder pulled his head away. “He hung up on me!”

“What was he implying?”

But Mulder only smiled, grabbed his jacket and my own and gestured for the door.

The interior of The Watering Hole is dark and dank like any tavern across the United States. Strands of Christmas lights decorate the big square section of concrete that makes up the dance floor and a small stage is set up in the corner for the band or dj that takes up residence.

Tonight a dj is playing some dragging country and western song and a mass of bodies are two-stepping to the music. A long rectangular bar juts out into the crowded room and the rest of the space is a ramshackle of tables large and small and even picnic tables along on side of the dance floor. One sectioned off area has a few pool table. The atmosphere is smoky and pungent.

Mulder finds an empty spot at one of the picnic tables and leaves to go get two beers. He maneuvers his way through the crowd and hands me a Shiner Bock. I raise my brows.

“Texas brew, honey.”

The beer is dark and tangy, but it’s cold and I sipped it slowly. I nudge Mulder and indicate in a vague way to get his attention across the room.

Don and Brandy are standing at a tall table near the billiards area. A tall blonde woman with an incredible body is with them.

Brandy happens to look our way and I sent a little wave. She smiles and I’m thinking she must be a little tipsy. She’s wearing tight purple jeans and a white off-the-shoulder blouse. And oh my God purple roper boots. She says something to Don and they make their way over to our table with the bombshell in tow. We both stand as they approach.

“Hi! You made it!” She hasn’t stopped smiling since I spotted her and I’m beginning to worry about her face locking into place.

“Yeah.” I respond. “This is my husband M um Rob.” Mulder smiles that introductory smile of his and shakes Don’s hand.

“Nice to see you.” This makes me almost snort with laughter. To date Don has still not said a word to Mulder at work.

“Yeah. Yeah. You got that ‘67 Roadrunner, don’t you.”

“Yes I do. It’s our baby.” Suddenly an arm comes around me and I’m pulled into Mulder’s embrace. It’s hard not to go stiff. An instinct acquired from years of experience.

Brandy introduces her friend. “This is Michelle Mitchell-Coble.”

Michelle Mitchell-Coble is gorgeous in a trampy come and get it way. Teased blond hair, inviting jammy red lips, and an incredible bustline that instantly puts my Wonderbra glow to shame. Did I forget to mention long, long legs. She has on a tight shimmery rose colored dress and heels. “Hi.” She bites her bottom lip with perfect pearl white teeth and her big blue eyes are reserved for only Mulder.

And Mulder, and Mulder, and MULDER that asshole has suddenly removed his arm and has eyes for this porno priestess from hell.

To my horror I glance up and see he has put on his I’m adorable and I know it smile. The goofy smile that some girl somewhere must have said makes him look cute. I hate, absolutely, hate that smile.

“Michelle would you like to dance?” Oh no I did NOT just hear him say that.

“Sure.” she simpers and before I know it I’m standing alone with Don and Brandy and expected to make small talk. This is looking bad. Don spots someone he knows and with a slap on Brandy’s butt he’s off to talk to his friend.

Brandy sits at the table and I do the same. I refuse to look out onto the dance floor so I gaze at the people around us and finally I meet Brandy’s dark eyes.

She’s looking alternately smug and contrite. “She’s does that all the time. Don’t worry he’ll be back.”

“Who?” Oh yeah, Scully, brilliant.

She giggles. “Michelle. She’s a man hound.” She sticks her finger into the mouth of her bottle of Coors Light.

“I’m not worried.” Now that’s believable, Dana.

“Really?” I ignore her sarcastic tone and watch fascinated as her finger goes in up to the knuckle and gets stuck.

“I mean. Rob and I have been together for a long time. I don’t get jealous anymore.” Original.

“I hope Don and I will never get to that point.” She’s downright struggling to get her finger out now and she’s looking worried.

“What point.”

Her finger suddenly pops out. “Y’know where the thrill is gone and we don’t worry about getting jealous anymore.” She cuts her eyes to the dancefloor and involuntarily I look.

At least the song isn’t slow. It’s some fast number by some top 40 girl group that you only hear on the radio. Michelle is grinding away and Mulder is doing some kind of wild shake. His hands are very close to her hips and I see red.

And before I even think about what I’m doing I stand and start to make my way through the crowd. I’m to the edge of the dancefloor when I hear a loud shout.


Everyone kind of quiets down and moves back from the irate individual and I stop and watch as a tall lanky younger version of Mulder walks up to Michelle and Mulder and said angry person starts to take a swing at my partner. Mulder immediately ducks away and yells “What the hell!” I instinctively reach for my gun but of course it isn’t there.

I don’t recognize who the newcomer is but Brandy who has followed me leans in to whisper. “Paul Coble, Michelle’s ex-husband. It’s going to be ON now.”

I don’t spare her a glance but quickly walk up and grab Mulder’s arm. “Come on Mulder. Dance with me, honey, please.”

He doesn’t look my way and I can feel his body is tightly wound, ready to spring at Paul if he needs to.

Paul glances at me. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m his wife.” I say.

“Well fuck you. Tell your boy to keep his fucking hands off my wife.” Paul slurs.

“They were just dancing.” I say coldly.

“Oh and if they were ‘just fucking’ I guess you’d approve of that too? What are you some kind of whore yourself? How much do you char…”

He didn’t even see it coming and neither did I. Mulder just swings and his fists connects squarely with Paul’s jaw with a sickening crunch. We all jerk back and watch as Paul drops to the concrete like a stone.

Mulder’s grasping his fisted hand and swearing up a storm. Michelle has suddenly made a beeline for the ladies room with Brandy in tow and Don is pushing his way through the crowd cursing because he missed the fight.

“Haaaa.” Don is laughing his crazy head off and a couple of guys pick Paul’s inert body up off the floor. We all move toward the front exit and are quickly accompanied by the Deputy Sheriff from out front.

When we get outside in the parking lot Don starts talking and since he knows the Deputy Sheriff the guy tells Mulder to sober up and he lets us go about our business.

I’m pissed. I can’t believe Mulder would jeopardize our investigation by punching out someone in a bar.

Don and Mulder are suddenly best friends and their swapping fight stories over the hood of Don’s lowered truck.

I suddenly grab the keys to the Plymouth from Mulder’s good hand. “Forget it. I’m leaving.”

Mulder looks startled. “Scully? What’s wrong.”

I fume and glare at him and put my fists on my hips.

Don mutters “Oh shit.” and backs away.

“Are you insane? Do you have any sense left in that head of yours? I’m leaving, Mulder. If you want to trade war tales then be my guest, but I’m tired and I’m going home. This is NOT the way I planned to spend my evening.”

“I don’t wanna go yet.” he whines and goes to grab at the keys.

“You don’t have to, I’m taking the car, get a ride.” I stride off to the car.



It’s been one week since you looked at me – Cocked your head to the side and said “I’m Angry.” – It’s been five days since you smiles at me – Said “Get that together, come back and see me”…

One Week – Bare Naked Ladies


I do not sit and silently fume like the petulant wife I’m supposed to be. I take my own king of revenge. I make a nice cosy bed for Mulder on the couch complete with sheets and a pillow. Then I log onto the internet and e-mail The Gunmen and give them a detailed blow by blow account of their best buddy’s grand behavior. It doesn’t take long and soon I have the response I’m looking for, when it comes to Mulder-Bashing, The Gunmen are the best.

The Gunmen and I have perhaps the strangest of relationships. When Mulder screws up. When he screws up real bad, instead of loosing my temper with him which can be both exhilarating and frustrating, I can cry on The Gunmen’s shoulder.

I’ve never gone over there. But deep in the night after some of the worst cases, I can find solace in opening up with these three unique men in a way I have never been able to do with my own partner. And in the process they make me feel better and I’m able to look Mulder in the eye again without wanting kill him. Unbeknownst to Mulder, Frohike, Byers, and Langley have kept our partnership from unraveling so many times.

I log off when I hear Mulder come in after a couple of hours. He eyes the made up bed on the couch and sighs heavily.

“Who gave you a ride?” I ask. My voice is sharper than I intended.

“Not who you expect.” He strips off both of his shirts and kicks off his Nikes. He strolls into the kitchen and I hear the refrigerator door open.

“Don didn’t give you a ride?” I ask.

“No.” He comes back in with the big jug of orange juice and drinks it straight from the jug. Somehow I know this is his way of getting back at me for making him take the couch.

I keep looking at him and he finally waves the juice around. “Don and Paul gave me a ride if you can believe it.”

I have to admit, that was the last thing I expected. “Really?”

“Yep.” He belches softly and goes back in the kitchen. He mumbles something.


“I said ‘are you still pissed’?” He yells.

“Yes. Mulder, you could have wrecked our investigation.”

“He called you a whore.” He says walking back into the living room.

“So.” I shake my head. “I can think of worse things he could have said and you did not have to cold-cock him.”

“We’re best buds now.” He unsnaps and removes his jeans revealing light blue cotton boxers.

“Well I am so glad.”

“Good.” He kicks his jeans and shirts into a pile and balancing on each foot removes his socks.



“You already said that!” And I slam the bedroom door. I refuse to watch him climb into the temporary bed on the couch.

Part Four of Eight


I burn burn like a wicker cabinet – Chalk white and Oh so frail – I see our time has gotten stale – The tick tock of the clock is painful, all sane and logical – I want to tear it off the wall – I hear words in crimson phrases – I feel sick like ginger ale – My stomach turns and I exhale…

Inside Out – Eve 6


I have become used to sleeping with Mulder. In one short week I have become used to his warm body and morning erection. His long arms around me and I miss snuggling up to his back. We would always get so tangled while asleep, but the moment we became fully awake we would abandon our closeness and assume the position of being Mulder and Scully.

The alarm wakes me at seven. I did not set Mulder’s alarm and if he missed running then that’s too bad. Truth is that I am no longer angry with him. I was surprised to see my anger return at all last night and I make a promise to myself to better control my emotions.

It’s Saturday, but I still have to go to work. My work schedule is Tuesday through Saturday. After a shower I pull on jeans and Mulder’s white “I Got Game” Nike t-shirt. I quietly cross the living room and start to open the door. Mulder was still asleep but he comes awake instantly his hand grappling for his sig sauer.

“Mulder it’s me.” I say to calm him.

“Huh? Scully?” His head falls back face down onto the pillow.

“I’m going to work Mulder, your on your own today.” I call out to him.

He nods into the pillow and I leave.

The day goes by quickly. You see different people on a weekend. A lot more younger men buying bottles of various booze and mothers with their kids gassing up their mini vans. Mrs. Pope did not make an appearance and Mr. Quintar only walked by twice.

I’m more tired than usual as I walk home at four o’clock. When I walk in the front door Mulder has the couch covered in books and magazines. He is sprawled out on the floor in front of the couch. There are discarded Barnes and Nobles and Waldenbooks bags lying beside him. He is watching Saved By The Bell with the sound down and Pink Floyd’s The Wall is playing. There is a funny smell in the apartment too.

Mulder’s eyes are a clear bright green and he watches me nervously to get a feel for my mood. He’s wondering if I’m still mad and I play with the idea of pretending to be but quickly dismiss the idea. “What’s all this.” I cross the living room and turn down the volume on the stereo and move over to the table and put down my purse. Sitting on the arm of the couch I lean over and pick up a copy of Mopar Muscle Magazine.

I hear the quick release of breath, relief, before he answers. “Research. I’ve got to bone up on my knowledge of Mopars.”

“What’s a Mopar?”

“A muscle car built in the late sixties and early seventies. A Dodge or Plymouth with a 383 or larger motor.” He explains.

“Hmmm doesn’t sound like my kind of reading. Where did you get all this?” I pick up the plastic bags.

“I went into San Antonio today.” He tells me.

“Really?” I peruse the magazine.

“Yes and I also went to Wal-Mart and got bug spray.”

“Do we have roaches.” I start looking around. “Is that what I smell?”

“Yep.” He stretches out his long legs and I hear his knees pop. “No. We don’t have roaches.”

I nod and glance at the TV. “Nothing good on, huh?”

“Hey this is outstanding entertainment. Pubescent girls in tight sweaters and their hormonal boyfriends.” He’s grinning at me.

“Then I guess it is your kind of entertainment, or Frohike’s.” I shake my head. “What’s for dinner?”

“Pizza. My treat.”

“Oh good.” My tone is dry.

“Hey that’s nothing. But I did rent a movie for us.” He indicates the top of the TV and I spy a familiar Blockbuster Video box. I step over a copy of HEMI Motors 1963 – 1974 and pick up the box. It’s Armageddon, “Hey this is good. Mulder I guess you have better taste than I thought, I was afraid it would be Taboo II or something of that ilk.” I put the box down and go into the kitchen.

“Very funny!” he yells from the living room. “Have you seen it?”

“No!” I yell back.

“What the hell!” There about thirty pounds of meat in the refrigerator wrapped in white butcher paper.

Mulder silently comes up behind me and I’m startled enough that I barely avoid banging my head on the inside of the refrigerator.

“That’s meat for tomorrow.” He explains.

“What’s tomorrow?” Am I missing something here?

“You and I are having a barbecue and I have invited my wonderful new friends to come see our wonderful abode.” He spreads his arms wide.

“So we’re having a party and you failed to tell me.” I put one hand on my hip.

“It’s a barbecue and I’m telling you now.” He tries unsuccessfully to look contrite.

“It sounds like a party. What purpose will this have in catching Truman Mills?” Now I have both hands on my hips.

“Well I’m just doing what Joe said, to force-feed Don beer and unlock the secret of his uncle’s location.”

I just watch him for a moment until he continues.

“Look everything is done. We supply the meat and beer and the other people will bring the side dishes.”

“How many other people?” I ask.

“I’m not sure. But you can invite Eric if you want.” He smiles widely. “I know you like him.”

I toss Mulder the cordless phone and tell him since its his night to cook he has to order the pizza. He reluctantly looks for the phone number for the local Dominoes and places an order.

Back in the living room I stack his research materials next to the couch. “What are you planning on cooking all that meat on?”

“You didn’t see that new barbecue pit outside?” He calls out as he flips through the phone book.

I look at him and walk over and open the front door. There is nothing there. “Where did you put it?”

Mulder looks worried and hurries to the door and I watch as his head swivels back and forth as he steps out and leans over the metal railing. “Damn it! Someone stole our barbecue pit!” He looks at me his hazel eyes wide with disbelief.

“Your barbecue pit, Mulder.”

“Shit. I’ve got to go back to Wal-Mart in the morning and pick up another one.” He slams his hand against the doorjamb.

I go back inside. “Make sure you buy a bicycle chain to go with it.”

“Yeah.” He says glumly.

The pizza arrived and we settled back to watch the movie. I asked Mulder why we were staying home on a Saturday night instead of pursuing Penopscott at the tavern. He mentioned that Don and Brandy were going to a wedding and there was no sense in hanging out without a chance of seeing Don. He also explained that Paul had come outside to apologize along with his two buddies and they had all gone to another bar and started to drink in earnest.

It turns out Paul Coble and his two friends Roger and Derek all work at Sun Farms as well. It was Paul and Don who dropped Mulder off late last night and though Mulder did hear Don mention an uncle twice during the night he was unable to gain anymore information.

Armageddon is a good movie and I discover that Steve Buscemi is one of Mulder’s favorite actors. After the movie we get into a serious discussion about our favorite movies and somehow the conversation rolls around to comedians and we both agree Richard Pryor is the funniest man alive.

We debated our favorite Pryor stand ups and decided the heart attack routines were the best with the next door neighbor’s dog and his monkeys routine as runner up. The memories of that Doberman consoling Pryor over the death of his monkeys set us off laughing so hard I ended up almost rolling off the couch.

After we calmed down I went into the kitchen to get some ice cream and brought back two bowls one coffee flavored for me and rocky road for Mulder. We settled back and watched a really bad Saturday Night Live. Too bad those guys from SNL are just trying too hard. Even the Monica and Bill jokes were lame.

Mulder cleaned up the pizza and empty ice cream bowls. I went into the bedroom and then into the bathroom to get ready for bed. After striping to my bra and panties and brushing my teeth and removing my makeup I realize I forgot my pajamas. I open the door to go out into the bedroom to get them but I catch a glimpse of Mulder taking off his pants. I guess he no longer feels banished to the couch.

I shut the door and lean my head into the wood. “Mulder.”

“Yeah.” His voice is muffled through the door.

“Can you look into the top drawer of the dresser and get a pair of pajamas out for me? I forgot to get them?”

“Hold on.” I can hear him rummaging around and then a soft tap on the door. I crack open the door and his hand slides in one finger hooking the one sheer black nightie that Mandy had supplied. I only look at it.

“Courtesy of Victoria’s Secret, Scully.”

“Nice try Mulder, now try again.”

“Aw Scully.” his hand and the attached sheer black material disappears and my favorite set of navy silk pajamas are casually tossed into the room.

“Thanks Mulder.” I quickly remove my bra and change into them.

When I open the door Mulder is standing watching me intently. “What.”

“Nothing.” He replies.

He makes a dash into the bathroom and I hear him brushing his teeth as I set his alarm. “You running in the morning?” I call out.

He pops his head around the door. “Yehhgg.” He says around a mouthful of toothbrush.

I give him a look and he pops back inside. I turn on the lamp beside the bed and cross the room to turn off the overhead light. Just as I am walking back to the bed Mulder comes barreling out of the bathroom catches me around the waist and we both are slammed facedown onto the bed. “Mulphhhr.” His name ends up in a mouthful of peach cotton sheet.

He flips me over and grins. Most of his lower body is lying across mine and he supports himself with his hands. My body becomes aware that he is only wearing gray cotton boxers and it begins to react accordingly. I can feel my nipples tighten and the area between my legs grow moist. “You know as a Special Agent you should be more prepared for the unexpected.”

“And this is some kind of warning that my skills are lacking.” I ask looking up into his face.

“No, no Scully in fact I think it would be safe to say your skills are quite good actually.” I realize at that moment that a certain part of his anatomy is infact starting to make itself known against my thigh.

“So Mulder why are you lying on top of me?” I don’t move. This is almost like being held in his arms and it feels too good.

“Think of it as a training exercise.” He grins.

“Like a drill?” I shift slightly and as his hardness presses more firmly against me I hear him gasp.

“Huh? Yeah.” He suddenly raises up and off me and I miss the warmth of his body.

He sits on the edge of the bed and rubs his face with his hands. “Mulder?”

He moves swiftly and sinks under the covers. “Good night Scully.”

“Mulder?” I say again.

“It’s okay Scully. Good night.” He has rolled onto his side facing away from me.

I scoot up the bed and settle under the covers beside him. “Good night Mulder.”


Well in case you failed to notice – In case you failed to see – This is my heart bleeding before you – This is me down on my knees – These foolish games are tearing me apart…

Foolish Games – Jewell

Partnerships in law enforcement are sometimes the simplest of things and yet they are often so complicated it can be amazing that the two individuals can stay together. Unlike television most partnerships in the FBI are short lived.

I have no illusions that if Mulder and I had not become so inseparable that we would often be subjected to a rotating menagerie of people. But Mulder and I have become set in our ways and I know we are the exeption to the rule.

The revolving door of partnerships in law enforcement is usually enough to keep the emotional attachment on an even keel. And even in the rare cases of partnerships consisting of a male and female agent rarely do the two agents form an attachment that would endanger and complicate their assignments. And while the Bureau does not have any existing rule that precludes sexual contact with your partner it is not encouraged.

I love Mulder. There I’ve said it. Truthfully I’ve said those word millions of times but only in the cage of my mind. I know exactly when I finally realized the full reality of my feelings for him and that was during the Robert Modell case. During the standoff, during the most heightened moment when Mulder’s finger was moving on the trigger he yelled “Run Scully Run”. He fought against every thought Modell was pushing into his head and he was trying to save me. After Mulder fired the round into Modell and continued to fire each empty chamber into the prone body, he finally collapsed into my arms and I knew.

It was so strange how our partnership began, but the same thing can be said of so many events in our lives since we were assigned to each other. Looking back I can see that in the beginning I was the one to make the attempts to connect with him. In the car in front of the house that Eugene Tooms was temporarily residing I opened up to Mulder telling him I wouldn’t put my job on the line for just anybody. It was so easy to give him my feelings back then. Mulder fought it I know, he wasn’t ready.

Our minds were just beginning to interlock. It wasn’t until after we returned from Puerto Rico and were enclosed in that nasty janitor closet and Mulder discovered the evidence he had sought was no more that he finally opened up. He said “I still have my work. I still have you.” I’ll never forget how surprised I was by his words. I had waited so long to hear something tangible from him concerning our involvement and now I had it. I could hold it in my hands. In my heart.

I knew that after he had returned from Arizona he had changed toward me, but immediately after my sister was killed I couldn’t face his emotions that were so open and raw. He hid his feelings and I hid what I knew was building in me.

After the Modell case I couldn’t let him get too close. I privately acknowledged our love and know he did the same, but neither of us felt ready to act on it and I didn’t know if we ever would.

When two people such as Mulder and myself mesh with our minds and later our hearts it is only a matter of time before the feeling is manifested in a physical form. The problems with our relationship arose from this. We couldn’t allow ourselves to resolve the natural cycle of how love is supposed to be. There is a thin line between us. Put there by all the conspiracies and aliens and Robert Modells and the FBI. We felt we couldn’t cross that line. Not in a physical sense. Not without risking each other.

When our hearts weren’t allowed to find the fulfillment they needed they rebounded on the line that separated us. First went our hearts and then our connected minds. We were not longer in synch. Mulder started taking me for granted and I went to Philadelphia.

Perhaps we would have never found our way back. If there was only one good thing that came out of my cancer it was that it kept the both of us together. I would not have made it alone and I don’t think Mulder would have either. It was on the way back from Rhode Island after everything Dr. Goldstein had done I realized I had not lost my love for Mulder but only misplaced it.

After the cancer was gone, we once again went through a rebuilding of our partnership. We went through so much together that year and I really thought we had a chance. Then Diana Fowley and the closing of the X-files came along and the thin line between us became a mile in width.

It embarrasses me to think that it took that disaster in Dallas for us to admit verbally how much our partnership meant. It was especially hard to watch Mulder vent his feelings. Feelings that mirrored my own, but that I couldn’t admit to him even facing my resignation from the FBI. I hadn’t been able to tell him how much he meant to me since before my abduction. At least with words. But the words he said in that hallway changed something in me. When he finally bent down and we came so close to kissing, the line that had held us back for so long shattered and it has not been rebuilt.

This physical level of our relationship has lain dormant for so long. But now I know that there is nothing that will happen as a result of our consummation that has not occurred already. They have proved they can take us at anytime. They have tried to destroy us, but they have only destroyed the line instead.

And now I lay here in the dark six months later. Mulder is still not asleep. I can tell by his breathing. Perhaps he is plagued by the same demons as myself wondering if the time has come.

The line is gone.

Part Five of Eight



Sometime I want to take you down – Sometimes want to get you low – Brush the hair back from your eyes – Take you down where the river flows…

Low – Cracker


I turn onto my side and face his back. I reach out with my hand and run it along the smooth skin covering his spine. He suddenly rolls over and stares at me in the dark. “Scully.”

I didn’t realize I was crying until that moment.

“Scully? Are you okay?” I nod and he reaches over and pulls me across his chest. For a moment I bury my face into his shoulder, but then I raise up and look into his eyes. His hand comes up and wipes away the tears and we watch emotions flit across each other’s faces. He finally moves forward and his soft lips meet my own.

His mouth is so soft and his tongue invades my mouth slipping in with that velvet darkness wholly his own. His hands come up and pull at my top sliding his warm hands beneath it. The kiss is ravenous. Our mouths fuse and cling wetly. Six years of wanting bottled up and released in a hurricane of need.

Mulder rolls me beneath him and continues to suckle and thrust his tongue into my mouth as his hands discard my pajama top. My own hands roving over the smooth bare skin of his back. Finally he lets my mouth go and I move my lips to his ear, his jawline, his shoulder.

His hands have found my breasts and I can feel the wonderful sensation of his fingers rolling my nipples between them. The dark hair of his head moves down and I can feel his mouth as it closes around my nipple. I arch my back and gasp into the dark of the bedroom.

One of his hands has slid down into the back of my pajama bottoms and he runs his palm over my panties along my ass. His fingers dip beneath the edge of my panties and run along my flesh. His mouth moves to my other nipple and he shakes his head between my breasts.

I reach down and raise his face back to my own and I begin to kiss him again drinking from his mouth trust and love and happiness and all the emotions I have wanted to feel with him for so long. My hands are busy running over his chest, brushing against the flatness of his male nipples and down the tautness of his belly and running my fingers over the hardness encased in the cotton boxers.

He moans into my mouth and pushes himself into my palm. With both hands I slide his boxers over his buttocks and carefully around his engorged penis and then raising my leg I insert my foot between his legs and tug his boxers downward and off.

Mulder pushes his penis into the soft skin of my stomach and again moans this time against my throat, he suckles and pulls the skin into his mouth and nips lightly. His warm wet tongue moves up into the spot just behind my ear.

His hands are cupping the weight of my breasts and his knee has moved between my legs and is pressing up against me and I think I’m gonna come and “Oh God, Oh Mulder, Oh, Oh.” I cry out into his hair.

His hands roughly pull down my bottoms but instead of moving between my legs he ducks down my body kissing the sides of my breasts and then tonguing my nipples and biting softly. His rubs his face into my stomach and pauses at my navel then he moves down.

I know what he’s about to do, I want to stop him, but I can’t. Then his lips are kissing the insides of my thighs and I’m afraid and my body unknowingly stiffens.

He raises his head. “Scully?” But I only pull him back up and bring his head down to mine and I kiss him pushing my tongue against his own licking his teeth and the sensitive inside of his bottom lip.

My hand comes up and wraps around his erection and I am surprised at the thickness and length of him. He leans back on his heels and with his hands he spreads my thighs so that I am laid out on the bed at his feet completely vulnerable to his intense dark green gaze.

He looks at me.

“Mulder.” I say embarrassed and I turn my face into the pillow.

“No. Scully don’t. I just want to look at you.” He eyes travel from mine to my toes and then they sweep back up to meet my eyes again. “Your so beautiful. I could look at you forever.”

He doesn’t. He suddenly moves between my thighs and lays over me and I feel his fingers enter me. He slides them in and out and uses his thumb against my clit working the wetness between my legs and lubricating the depths of me.

He removes his fingers and I move my arms around him as he comes over me fully. I can feel his penis as he pushes into my softness.

I’m hot and wet and as I take him fully he begins to make guttural noises in the back of his throat. He sets a rhythm as he pumps his hips and I can feel how he stretches me and fills me and how the top part of his penis hits the one spot along the inside wall of my vagina and “Yes. Mulder. Please yes oh Mulder oh God yes now yes yes…”

The climax comes over me suddenly and my world splinters apart for a few precious seconds. Mulder never pauses and he rocks me back and forth and then with an sweet sounding cry of “Scuullleee.” I feel him coming as his orgasm takes him straight to the edge.

He rolls off of me after a few seconds of recovery and we lay quiet in the dark. His arms come around me and I feel his lips as they brush along my temple. “I love you.” he whispers.

“I know Mulder.” The tightness in my throat makes my voice sound strange. “I love you too.”

I can feel him smile against my face. His hands slide down and they cup my breasts and to my surprise I feel him erect again against my buttocks. “Mulder?”

His answer is to raise up and he pushes me onto my stomach and raises my hips. I can feel his cock push at my entrance. I’ve only done it this way a few times before and it makes me nervous. I grab a pillow and push it in front of me. One of his hands comes around and cups my breast as his thumb and finger pinch my nipple he moves his length into me.

I push back against him and it feels so good. I brace my hands against the mattress and he begins pumping in and out of me. The pace is slower than before and he begins to talk. “You like that. Huh Scully.”

The slow pace is driving me crazy and I nod swinging my hair against my shoulders. “I can’t hear you.” He pulls almost all the way out of me. My hips squirm against him and I try to push myself back on him. “No.” His hand keeps my hips from reaching their goal. “I said I can’t hear you. Do you want it?”


At my answer he pushes back inside me and his pace increases until his hips are slamming against mine. One of his hands slides down the front of me and his fingers rub against my clit taking up the rhythm of his hips.

“Yes. Yes.”

“Ah Scully.” He’s pumping furiously now and I know he’s about to lose control. He feels so good and I can feel the pressure building and the coiling beginning at the pit of my stomach. He cries out at the same time my muscles contract and another orgasm hits me as I feel him give over to the same nirvana.

We collapse onto the bed and Mulder rolls off of me again. I get up after a moment and go into the bathroom to clean up a little. When I come back out he has straightened the covers and is propped on one arm smiling.

His smile does not fade a bit as I approach the bed. “You are so beautiful.” he whispers as I climb in beside him. “I love the way your breasts sway when you walk.”

I smile and shake my head and bury my face into his neck. He pulls away and looks at me. “Are you shy?” He asks.

“No. Yes. No. I’m just…happy. Mulder, I don’t know what to think but I’m just so happy.”

He lays on the pillow and pulls me into his arms wrapping his big body around mine. “Good.”

In the quiet of the dark I fall asleep but I don’t know if it is before or after Mulder.



Now first come cash – And then come the ass – And then comes big blunts with big chunks of hash – And when I score with a whore – She be game for sure – Pimp so hard a n***** drag is mick on the floor – Won’t you admit it – I ain’t got to talk because I live it – Any chick fucking with me believe me that’s a privilege…

The World If Filled With Pimps And Hos – The Notorious B.I.G.


I did not hear the alarm or Mulder when he got up to go run but I do hear the door as he comes in. He stumbles over a pair of shoes as he tip toes into the bedroom and I see him standing in front of the bathroom door.

He looks different and it takes me a few seconds to put my finger on the fact that he is bundled up in sweats and a jacket.


“Shh lay back down.” He strips off the jacket and sweatshirt and gets on the bed his hands work their way under the covers and his fingers graze my bare thighs. “Ow God Mulder!” His hands are freezing.

I hear a wicked laugh and he tries to rub his hands over my belly and chest. “No. Oh shit! Stop it.” Mulder gets up and finishes taking off the rest of his clothes.

“We had a cold front blow in last night. It’s about 45 degrees out there.”

“Did you turn the heater on?”

“Yeah. Before I left.”

He turns and dives under the covers, I cringe knowing his big feet will be just as cold but he’s still wearing his socks. This strikes me as funny and I can’t help the giggles that escape into full blown snorting laughter.

“What?” He sits up and watches me and I hunch over and try not to laugh any harder. I hate it when I snort.


“Don’t give me that. I want to laugh too.”

I lay back and look up at him, I cannot stop smiling. “Its nothing, I just had a picture of you standing in nothing but a hard on and athletic socks.”

His face registers confusion and he shakes his head. “What’s so funny about that?”

I shake my head. “I guess you had to be there.”

He leans over me and checks the clock. “Its early still, go back to sleep.”

I close my eyes and we lay together but its not long before I feel the touch of his hands as they begin to chart a course over my body. Within minutes he turns me into a heaving boneless puddle and before I know it he has his face buried between my legs, I stiffen.

“What.” He says and sits back on the bed. “And don’t try to change the subject. Don’t you want me to do this?”

“You don’t have too.” This is so embarrassing.

“I know that but I want to Scully.” He dips his head again and I try to relax.

His head pops back up. “What?”

“Mulder. I um look you don’t have to okay?”

“You’ve never done this before!”

Oh shit. Do I really need this? “Yes. No. Well no.” I give up and wait.


I only look at him and slowly he gets the message. I don’t want to talk about this. But instead of conceding and just coming back up and kissing me he suddenly smiles and says “Just relax.” and before I can stiffen again his tongue has slid into me the way his fingers had been only moments ago.

I gasp and arch and he moves his mouth using his lips and teeth and pushing his tongue in a knowing maddening circle that drives me wild. His fingers resume their frantic pace and coupled with the forbidden knowledge of what he is doing it drives me into such a state that I fly off coming and coming harder and faster than ever before.

I am completely worthless afterward and I watch Mulder as he raises up and watches me. He has this big self satisfied grin that he can’t shake off even when he kisses me. I can taste myself on him and it seems so strange.

He raises above me and enters me and I clutch at his back that is slippery with sweat. He moves in and out and he is soon calling my name in that dark voice from last night.

Afterwards we sleep and only when the bright rays of an early morning sun hit the pillow do we begin to stir. I’m up and in the shower as quick as I can. When I come out with my hair wrapped in a towel and my face shiny with moisturizer.

Mulder is sitting on the side of the bed the covers pulled modestly over his groin. He’s on the phone and I go into the kitchen to get some juice and a Nutragrain bar. When I get back in the bedroom Mulder is in the shower and I rummage around in the closet for something warm to wear.

The shower cuts off and Mulder strides out in a clean pair of Hilfiger red and white and blue boxers. He still has that satisfied smile on his face. He cuts his eyes at me and smiles wider. “Scully I didn’t know you were such a little catholic girl at heart.”

Oh God thats it. I want a divorce.


Even mid-morning on a Sunday the local Wal-Mart is crowded. I go pick the essentials for my mother’s pasta salad and Mulder hunts for another barbecue pit.

When we get back to the apartment two guys, one black and one mexican, are standing on the walkway next to our apartment door. “It’s Derek and Roger.” Mulder says smiling.

When Mulder opens the door the black guy waves. “Mulder?” I question.

“I work with them at the warehouse.”

Both guys came down the stairs and helped Mulder unload the pit. He decided that with all the meat he had purchased he should get a larger one than the one that was stolen. He also picked up a chain and padlock. We had to tie down the trunk to get it home. Roger, the mexican, introduces himself to me and helps me carry the other items up to the apartment.

Roger is a large hulking guy with dark curly hair and a mustache. He is incredibly charming. He offered to help with this and that and kept calling me beautiful until Mulder got nervous and playfully called him off. Derek is equally charming. He is very tall and thin with a close cropped hair, a goatee, and small wireframe glasses.

It was almost noon so Mulder offered the guys a beer and they all took over our dining room table getting the meat ready. Derek helped himself to my cajun seasoning and garlic salt. He started singing while he seasoned the meat. He has a great voice.

“That song is familiar.” I say.

“Quincy Jones’s Secret Garden.” And he kept singing.

After the song was over Roger started singing Changes by Ozzy Osborne. It was like my own personal serenade and I noticed Mulder looking peeved.

I finished putting the pasta on to boil and went into the bedroom to change. I struggled into a very tight pair of stone-washed jeans and a lime green long sleeve Guess shirt. The material was clingy and I was about to change when Mulder stepped into the room.

“Hey that color looks great.” He says.

“Really?” I ask.

“Yeah. You should wear brighter colors more often, Scully.”

He left the door open and I could hear that he had turned the stereo on. He flopped back on the bed and smiled up at me.

“I’m not really a bright color person, Mulder.”

“Well in a couple of weeks you can change back to office wear, Scully.”

I smirk at him and notice Roger approaching the doorway. “Game’s on Bro.” Roger says.

I glance at Mulder. “Bro?” He reaches over and grabs my hand.

Mulder shakes his head. “He calls everyone Bro.”

Roger laughs. “Not this woman. Now this,” he waves his hand at me, “is beautiful.”

I glance at Mulder still smirking. “See.” I say.

Mulder suddenly yanks on my hand and I tumble forward on top of him. He grabs my face with both hands and kisses me noisily on the forehead. “Woman, we have man work to do. Get off me.”

“Funny.” I climb off him and after putting on my shoes and a fleece pullover I join them in the living room. Derek is holding the door for Mulder as he carries out a twenty pound bag of charcoal. Roger follows them with the lighter fluid.

I assume Mulder had put on the Guns & Roses cd and he had a Broncos and Eagles game on mute. I shake my head at the workings of a man’s mind and check my pasta.

As the day wears on the temperature drops. Mulder’s simple barbecue is turning into a full scale party. Everyone was tromping in and out of our apartment. Ray Black is another man Mulder works with at Sun Farms and he happens to live below us.

Don finally shows up sans Brandy but with a cousin that wasn’t in the case file. Ronnie Brown is older than the rest of us and he came to look at the Plymouth. He only stays long enough for two beers and a plateful of food and though I tried to make conversation he only wanted to talk cars.

Eric showed up with various bottles of liquor and two young girls from San Antonio. Paul Coble came and proceeded to get smashed on Eric’s offer of Big Red and Southern Comfort. I caught him slipping one of those girls a rum and coke and trying to get them to go into our room. Mulder had to ground him to the couch.

Other people from Sun Farms would drop by for food and drink and talk for a while and leave. I was surprised at the number of people that Mulder was aquainted with and each person he would introduce me to would greet both of us with enthusiasm. Mulder either kept his arm around me or stayed close most of the time and after the first few touches I quickly became accustomed to his touch.

At eight o’clock someone had the idea to play poker and an hour later Mulder, myself, Roger, Paul, Ray, Derek, and Don were crowded around our table. Mulder had found the leaf to our table in the pantry and after installing it he spread a blue bedsheet across it and we settled in to play round after round of poker. I discovered that Mulder played terrible and he bowed out after losing continuously for ten hands. Paul became too drunk to play and he passed out on our couch.

Mulder started cleaning up while we finished our last hand after eleven. I came away forty-seven bucks ahead and very proud of myself. Derek was the biggest winner with a thirty-five dollar IOU from Roger added to his winnings in his pocket. The guys each said their goodbyes and I had to dodge a kiss from Roger. He ended up with a mouthful of red hair.

We cleaned up the worst of everything and I found myself eyeing Paul Coble who was still snoring on our couch. Mulder came to stand next to me and said to just leave him alone.

I went and got in the shower.

It wasn’t until I am under the hot spray that I realize how tired I am. I soap my hair and am in the middle of rinsing when I jump with surprise when Mulder steps in with me. “Mulder. Oh God! You scared me!”

He smiles nervously and I realize he probably doesn’t know if I am willing to take this step with him.

I smile back and reach for the shower gel and squeeze some on my hands. I reach out and start rubbing freesia scented gel into his chest. He wrinkles his large nose but takes the bottle and squeezes some into his own hands.

He rubs it into my breasts and my shoulders, down my belly and over my hips and thighs. I turn him around and soap his back and buttocks and when he turns back I move my hand down his hard penis. He gasps into the steam and I quickly move back to rinse myself off. He takes my lead and steps under the shower spray.

I grab the towel that was hanging on the rack and step out as he begins to shampoo his hair. I dry off and put on lotion and deodorant. I pull on a robe and move to the bed while double checking that the bedroom door is locked. Mulder comes out of the bathroom with his hair wet and spiky and a towel riding low on his hips. I’m nervous again and I feel awkward.

Mulder quickly leans in to kiss me and before long we are curled up in the wonderful afterglow of good sex. I pull the covers over us and we fall into the dreamless sleep of the very tired.

Part Six of Eight



Twenty, Twenty, Twenty-Four hours to go – I wanna be sedated – Nothing to do, no way to go home – I wanna be sedated…

I Wanna Be Sedated – The Ramones


The following week was spent in a blur of work and going out to the Watering Hole. We fell into bed late each night sometimes pausing to make love and sometimes going right to sleep. We were unable to make any progress with Penopscott or Zullman. Truman Mills may just as well have never existed for all that they mentioned him.

Sun Farms was so busy that Mulder was working two and sometimes three hours overtime each night and he was exhausted when he came home. Lucky’s was equally busy and I had a showdown with Mrs. Pope twice during the week. Eric was acting crazy, talking about ditching this turkey town and going west. He had a curl put in his hair on Tuesday and when he showed up for work he was primping for me. His curl shiny with Jerry Curl.

Even as tired as Mulder and I were throughout the week I enjoyed either going out or just staying home with him.

As the weekend neared Don called and wanted to go with Mulder on Saturday to an auto action in a neighboring town. They came by Lucky’s that morning on their way out and they had Paul Coble with them.

He was still sheepish around me after passing out at our house over the weekend. I was hopeful that this “bonding” time would provide some significant information but when Mulder came home that evening there was nothing new to report.

Joe was getting discouraged but Rene kept our spirits up. After all Don does like Mulder and seems to enjoy his company. Rene kept saying to be patient.

The Gunman who were watching out for anything new going on in DC had nothing new to report and so the week ended. Considering how exciting the first week was this undercover work is getting rather boring.

The following week went much like the second however we were both not as tired and we went out with Don and Brandy more. We even danced for the first time. I found it highly unnerving and we left soon after and had rough sex on the living room floor. We couldn’t even get as far as the bed.

I found myself hating to be in Brandy’s company. She complains about everything. Mulder is absolutely terrified to be alone with her, afraid of what she will say next.

Sometime in the middle of the week I asked Mulder to throw his sunflower seeds away instead of leaving them laying in untidy piles next to the computer or table or wherever he is sitting. He got smart with me and called me Brandy.

Mulder had a small accident on the forklift on Thursday. It wasn’t his fault, the brake fluid line that was on the forklift busted and sprayed him in the side of the face. He was cleaned up and sent home early. He came and sat around the store and even got to meet Mr. Quintar. I was hoping Mrs. Pope would put in an appearance but she and Mulder seem destined not to meet.

On Sunday morning I wake feeling out of sorts and I am afraid I’m getting a cold. However I feel is put aside when Don calls and invites us to go out that afternoon. I can only hope that this time we spend together will finally produce a solid lead.



Police and n*****s (that’s right) get off of my back – Don’t need to buy none of your gold chains today – Now I don’t need no bracelets clamped in front of my back – Just need my ticket – ‘Til then won’t you cut me some slack – You’re one in a million – Yeah that’s what you are – You’re one in a million babe – You’re a shooting star…

One In A Million – Guns and Roses


We arrived at Don and Brandy’s trailer shortly before four in the afternoon. Brandy was not ready to go and she was still in the bedroom. Mulder and Don each took beers out of the refrigerator and leaned against the island counter in the kitchen talking cars. I tuned them out and gazed out of the kitchen window.

I could gaze into the backyard next door from this vantage point and watched as two little girls played. They were both blonde with their untidy hair pulled into pony tails. Both were wearing identical short sets in different colors, one blue and one pink. The one in blue was swinging on the swingset. The one in pink was twirling around with a long stick. She suddenly looked over at her sister threw the stick away and ran over to the swing.

I could see the argument that ensued without having to read their lips. The argument accelerated until the one pushed the other off the swing. She burst into tears and ran up the steps of the porch and even I could hear the bang of the screen door. Moments later a blonde woman came out and yelled at the girl in pink who was happily swinging as high as she could.

Brandy suddenly appeared at my side.

“Hey Lisa.”

“Hi. Ready to go.”

But before she could answer the phone rang. Don picked it up and we were subjected to a one-sided conversation between him and the unknown caller.

“Yeah. Yeah. No shit! Yeah. Hold on.” He looked at Mulder. “Hey you mind running me over to my Uncle Red’s house? My cousin’s boyfriend has got something I need to take a look at.”

Mulder glanced at me and then nodded.

“Yeah. I’m on my way. Shit man, I said I’m on my way. Bye.” He hung up and we filed out the door. Brandy and I were given the honor of the backseat.

Mulder reves the engine and pushes the car up to 70 as fast as he can. I don’t say anything knowing he’s doing it for Don. Although in some small way I think he likes the power of this car.

“Where does your uncle live?”

“Huh? Oh yeah. Um go out 46 North until we get to Julles Road.” Don’s house was not far from Hwy 46 and within minutes we were close to the Julles Road turn off. Brandy was uncharacteristicly silent during the drive.

Red Mills was the younger brother of Truman Mills. He had been through a variety of jobs all his life and currently was enjoying a disability pension from a slipped disc. He had two grown daughters and two young sons.

When we turned into the drive of the run down house and got out of the car, it was with a great sense of distaste that I walked carefully around to the back door as I followed Don and Brandy. There were at least six vehicles parked in the yard and none looked driveable.

There were an assortment of chickens, dogs, ducks, cats, turkeys, and even a pot-bellied pig scurrying around as we approached the house. This was a true breeding ground of bacteria and disease. There were two chickens roosting on the dryer that sat next to the screened back door. They did not stir as we passed and I noticed that Mulder was equally disgusted and wonderous at this new experience.

The house was as filthy as the backyard. A pale faded woman with stringy blond hair stood at the stove frying what I was afraid was one of the unhealthy chickens from the backyard. A baby approximately eight months old and wearing only a diaper was sitting in an unsanitized highchair eating Top Ramen noodles. As we all crossed the kitchen our shoes would stick to the linoleum floor.

“Cookie! Where’s Chris?” Don yelled as he waved at the woman at the stove. She only observed us with a blank stare and continued to turn the chicken.

We moved into the small living room that consisted of worn furniture and a fuzzy TV. One man was sitting in a recliner nursing a beer. I barely recognized him from the picture in the file as Red Mills. A burly man with curly black hair and a full beard sat on the couch. He was holding the feet of an exteremly thin young woman with the same features and limp blonde hair as the woman at the stove. They did not move although the man, Chris, raised his hand in greeting. They were watching a rerun of America’s Most Wanted and I found this extremely ironic.

“Hey.” This came from the skinny blonde on the couch.

“Hey Cookie. Hey Red.” Don said and grabbed her foot and slung it off Chris’s lap. “Hey Fuckhead I didn’t come all the way out here to watch you jerk off on the couch.” This comment brought a glare from his uncle but only for a moment.

Mulder and I moved to an unoccupied corner of the room. I noticed that Brandy had disapeared entirely.

“Yeah, Yeah. I’m coming.” Chris said and hauled his bulk from the couch. Then he glanced at us. “Who’s that?”

“They’re cool.” Don said and flashed a smile in our direction. “Robert’s been hanging out with me the last couple of weeks. He’s got a bitchin’ 68 Roadrunner with a 440.”



“Well shit. Why didn’t you say so.” Chris moved to go back through the kitchen.

As we passed through Don said “Sandra are you just going to feed this baby spaghetti?”

Sandra shrugged. She was busy rolling more raw chicken in flour.

Don suddenly began stomping his boots on the sticky floor. “Sandra what the hell is all over the floor!”

She looked up and smiled slightly. “Dishsoap and sugar.”

“What.” Don asks. We all stood and looked at her.

She waved the fork in the air. “Benny’s boy J.J. and Scooter decided to dump a five pound bag of sugar and a new bottle of dishsoap on the floor so they could skate around on it.”

We continued to stare at her. “Where were you?” Don said.

“Taking a nap.” As if this was completely out of her control.

“When?” Don asks.

“Tuesday.” Sandra replies.

Don moved his feet again. “Why didn’t you clean it up?”

“I did.” She went back to turning chicken.

Mulder shook his head like he was trying to clear it. I was thinking I should do the same.

As we went out the door Don muttered that Sandra is not the best housekeeper in the world. We all silently agreed with him.

Outside I stood and avoided the menegerie of animals and tried to keep out my shoes out of any animal feces on the ground. This was much easier said than done. Mulder was having a time of it too.

The men crowded around our car for a while and then Chris walked over to an older model pickup, the worst looking of the assortment of possible transportation in the yard, he pulled down the tailgate and he lifted a tarp and gestured at Don to look. I craned my neck to see what it could be and still could only see that it was a two large pieces of machinery.

Don and Mulder both looked at the peices and both looked equally confused. “What is it?” they both asked.

“It’s a torque wrench for a tank. I boosted it from the army base.” Chris explains.

“Fort Hood?” Don asks. I racked my brain, but I couldn’t think where that base could be.

“Yeah.” Chris replies.

Don turned to explain to Mulder. “Chris just got discharged from the army. He was living at the base in Kileen.” then to Chris “Fuck man what are you going to do with it?”

“Well I’m hoping to sell it.” Chris mumbles.

“How much.” Mulder asks.

“Don’t know.” Chris says.

Mulder didn’t say anything else. I did not dare look at him but we both knew this was the break we had been looking for. If Don contacts Truman and he shows to pick up this torque wrench we might be able to solve this case.

Eventually we all went back in the house and I found myself sitting on the very edge of a blanket covered loveseat watching the beginning of the five o’clock news.

A knock sounded on the back door and from my vantage point I could see Cookie open the door. “We don’t want any.” she teases and shuts the door. It immediately slams back open and a large man walks in.

“Truman.” Don says in a quiet voice.

Oh shit. Oh shit. It’s like a mantra going through my head.

Part Seven of Eight



How well I remember the look was in his eyes – Stealin’ kisses from me on the sly – Takin’ time to make time, telling me that he’s all mine – Learnin’ from each other’s knowing lookin’ to see how much we’d grown – And the only boy who could ever reach me, was the son of a preacher man – The only boy who could ever teach me, was the son of a preacher man – Yes he was, he was, Oh yes he was…

Son of A Preacher Man – Dusty Springfield


Truman Mills looks nothing like the picture in his case file. He has aged considerably since the current blurry photo on record was taken. He’s tall and big but he has started to take on that stooped and frail look a man has just as he is beginning his descent into old age. His eyes are a cold blue and his hair is a wild mass of steel gray that is greased and combed back in style prevalent in the fifties. He is grizzled and coase and he looks like a man who has lived the hardest of lives.

I rise from the loveseat and move into the shadows of the room. No one notices as I move into the hallway and into a back bedroom. I look frantically around for a phone and only after I go into the next bedroom do I find one next to a bed and under a pile of papers. I quickly dial out and Joe answers his cell phone.

“Yeah.” He says.

“Joe.” I whisper as loud as I can risk.

“Agent Scully is that you?” Joe asks.

“Listen carefully Joe. He’s here. Truman is here at Red Mill’s house. He just walked in. We are requesting back up.”

“I got you. Agent Scully, we will get out there right away. Be very careful.”

I hang up the phone and go into the hall bathroom. After a moment I go back out into the living room but all the men have gone outside. I perch nervously on the edge of the couch and casually ask Brandy who that man was.

“What?” I swear she is positively lucid tonight. “Oh that just Don’s other uncle. Truman.” She turns her attention back to the TV.

I wish I had my weapon on me, but with outfit I have on I had to leave it under the front seat of the car. Mulder does not have his weapon on him either so I try to think of a way to go out to the car and arm myself.

Just as I rise to go outside the men come back inside the kitchen. I overhear the conversation and try to read Mulder’s look at the same time.

“So you think you can sell it?” Chris asks.

Truman nods. “I’ll give you two fifty now but that’s it. I’ve got other stuff to pick up this trip.”

“Sounds good to me.” Chris takes the wad of bills Truman hands him and he hefts his body up to sit on the counter. Sandra and the baby have vanished, probably into some other area of the house.

Truman comes into the living room spares a cold glance at me and kicks at the recliner where Red is sitting. “Hey do you know if Daddy’s home”

Red looks up at him and frowns. “I’d expect so. You wanna go over there?”

“When’s the last time you saw him?” Truman asks.

Red shugs and turns his attention back to the TV. Truman scowls at Red and reaches out a hand to cuff Cookie on the side of her head. “You seen your Grampa lately?”

“Ow! No!” She gets up and leaves the room quickly. Truman glances back at me again and then goes back into the kitchen.

“Don!” Truman yells.

“Yeah? What?” Don yells back.

“I want to go up and check on Daddy. I don’t want to take the truck so, if its not a problem, can your friend give me a ride in his car?” His words “if its not a problem” brook no argument.

Don looks at Mulder and Mulder replies. “Where does your father live?”

“Retirement home in town. It shouldn’t take but a few minutes.” He looks at Don coldly, “You should go see the old man more often.”

“I know, I know.” Don holds the door open and as they leave Mulder calls out, “Lisa. Lets go woman. Brandy?”

Brandy gets up and heads toward the door and I bring up the rear.

The car is crowded with Don, Brandy, and myself seated in the back. Don tried unsuccessfully to get Mulder to let him drive but Mulder refused good-naturedly.

The Northgate Hills Retirement Home is like any other low budget nursing home in every small town across the country. Elderly people milling around the lobby area and the entire place smells like disinfectant and that peculiar smell that I also associate with the old.

Mr. Mills has his own room and he is sitting in a Lazyboy recliner covered with a multicolored afghan when we enter the room. Truman moves in and sits down on the bed next to his father. I take Mulder’s arm and we move out into the hall to give the Mills’ their privacy.

“You contacted Joe or Rene from Red Mill’s house didn’t you.” he leans in to whisper.

“Yes. They are sending backup. We need to contact them again and let them know where we are.” I reply.

“I know. I hate not having my cell phone with me. Do you think you can find a phone around here?” Mulder asks looking over my head down the hall.

“I can try.” The empty hallway does not look promising.

“Hey.” we both jump at Truman’s voice from inside Mr. Mill’s room. “Get back in here.”

Mulder looks at me and mouths “go”.

I hear Mulder make some excuse about me finding a ladies room as he crosses the threshold.

I run down the hallway and come to the nurses desk.

“Do you have a pay phone anywhere nearby?” I ask.

The nurse with permed red hair about six shades brighter than mine nods, but as I take off down the hallway her words bring me to a halt. “It doesn’t work. We’ve been trying to get the phone company to fix it for a week. Is it a local call?”

“Yes.” I lie.

Her faded blue eyes narrrow on me and then she slides the multi-line phone on her desk over to me. “Go ahead.”

I pick up the phone and begin to dial when I hear a shout from Mulder. “There you are Scully! Don’s Uncle is ready to leave. Ummm did you find the restroom?” His warning is appreciated. Truman comes into view with Don.

I quickly put down the receiver and step away from the desk. “That was quick.” I say under my breath.

“He wants to keep moving. He’s not dumb.” Mulder leans in to whisper. Suddenly Truman steps between us.

“Who were you calling?” Don asks.

“Just wanted to check in with a friend.” I smile and tap Mulder on his hand. “We are supposed to meet some friends later tonight and I wanted to let them know we might be held up.”

Truman watches me closely and then he moves back and we all proceed to the entrance of the nursing home.

Once we get to the car Truman changes positions and wants to get in the back seat. He indicates I should ride up front and he scrunches in the back with Don and Brandy. I look at Mulder and we both hesitate to get in. Truman is already suspicious of us and this is going to put us in a dangerous position.



Never let me slip ‘cause if I slip then I’m slippin’ – But If I go my own then you know I’m straight trippin’ – And I will continue to put the rap down and if your bitches talk shit then I have to put a smack down – yeah – And I don’t stop, I told ya I was just like a clock when I tick and I tock – But I’m never off always on ‘til the break of dawn…

Ain’t Nothin’ But a G Thang – Doctor Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog


When we get into the car Mulder mentions that we need gas and I start planning a way to get a call out when we pull into a Circle K convenience store. I offer to go pay and to my surprise Truman hands me a twenty for gas. I smile and take the money and as soon as I am inside I ask the clerk to use the phone. He shakes his head.

“There is a pay phone outside.” The clerk says.

I slam my hand down on the counter. “You don’t understand. I need to use a phone in here right now!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I hear the familiar voice and I turn to see Paul Coble grinning at me like a fool.

“Listen lady. You can use the pay phone or nothing. Now do you need gas or not?” The clerk insists.

“Yes.” I tell him.

I turn to Paul Coble. “What’s up Paul?”

“Nothing. Just picking up a twelve-pack.” He lifts a twelve-pack of Bud Light.

I reach over, grab his arm, and pull him behind a rack of Hostess snacks.

“Hey, hey,” he says smiling. “Does Mulder know you’re into accousting his friends at gas stations?”

“Paul I need you to do me a favor.” I reach into my lime green bag and scramble for Rene’s card. “Rob and I are in some serious trouble and I need you to call this number and tell Rene Espinoza,” I underline Rene’s name with my fingernail, “where you last saw us and that Agent Scully asked you to call him. Please, please, call him as soon as we leave Paul.”

“FBI? Your shitting me right?” He scratches his temple. “Like your really some king of secret agent. Hah.”

“No Paul. Please. I swear this is not a joke. I’m in deep trouble and I need you to call this number. Please.”

He nods still grinning and I’m desperately afraid I’ve picked the wrong man for the job.

I move to the counter. I start to tell the young clerk that I’m FBI and I need the phone when the door opens. Truman walks in. He looks pissed.

“Lets go.” He says.

“I haven’t paid yet.” I say.

“Lets go.” I take one more look at the adolescent rude boy behind the counter. I start to wait for Truman to pass in front of me but he hangs back and I’m forced to go ahead of him. I pray that Paul will say nothing and I studiously avoid looking in his direction. As we clear the door, I’m not particularly suprised to feel the blunt metal of a gun in my back as he moves close behind me.

“Go to the car.” He whispers.

I get in the back and Truman holds the gun on all of us. He then makes me crawl over Don and Brandy to sit on the far side of the car behind Mulder. It makes it easier for him to keep the gun trained on us. Mulder’s knuckles are white he is gripping the steering wheel so hard.

“Drive.” Truman orders and Mulder is forced to pull out into traffic.

Don looks panicked and Brandy looks bored. It makes me wonder at her part in all of this. She certainly doesn’t seem surprised by this turn of events.

Truman hands Don the gun. “Hold it on them. You fuck this up and I’ll break your fucking head in.” He quickly searches under the seat and pulls out my sig sauer. He reaches again and pulls Mulder’s from under the seat.

He unhoulsters mine and looks it over. “Federal issue.” He takes the gun from Don and suddenly knocks Don in the back of the head, hard. “You fuck up! Do you realize you just brought two federal fucking agents on my ass!”

Truman tucks both guns away behind his back. He looks around and indicates that Mulder should turn. “Take a right at the next light.” He looks back at Don. “We’re going to your mom’s place.”

Don who is holding the back of his head looks confused. “The trailer?”

“Yeah.” Truman answers.

Turman has put us on the main road out of town. The silence in the car is thick. Truman suddenly cocks the pistol, he points it in my face. “What agency do you work for?”

I glance at the back of Mulder’s head. “FBI.”

“Feds.” he spits. He sends another disgusted glance back at Don. “Take a left at the next road. We are going to go down it about four miles.”

The following road is little better than a two lane dirt track. We pass one mobile home on our way and miles of ancient barbed-wire fencing. Finally there is a break in the fence and a gate. Truman has Mulder get out, open the gate, and drive through.

After we pull into the overgrown driveway we pass a group of trees and there emerges a small trailer that looks as though no one has lived there in for years. The clearing we pull into was once a yard and I can see the snake of a green water hose rotting in the tall grass.

“Leave the car running. This won’t take long.” He says harshly.

Truman quickly indicates we should all get out and as soon as I cleared the car he grabs my arm and pulls me close against his chest.

Mulder watches me closely. He then turns his attention to Truman quickly filing away any weakness, any detail that would disarm him. Truman pushes me in front of him stepping slowly through the knee high grass. Don and Brandy also walk slowly in front of us. Don starts complaining and begins to ask Truman repeatedly to let us go.

Truman finally yells at Don to shut up. He is sweating and looking nervous. He pushes me forward again and we stand in a ragged half circle about thirty feet from the car.

I’m trying rapidly to think our way out of this. Truman suddenly pushes the gun up against my lower jaw. “What’s this about? Those two San Antonio cops they are saying I killed?”

Mulder stares at him. “You didn’t kill any SAPD. They were State Highway Patrol.”

“The fuck they were. They were SAPD and they were dirty. We were having our bi-monthly meeting. Trading dope and guns. Who said anything about state troopers.”

“I saw the crime scene photos.” Mulder says.

“Then its SAPD cleaning up. It was the police department that came down and ambushed us. They cut those two dirty pigs down and left them to rot.” Truman holds me tighter.

“You saying it was a set up?” Mulder asks.

“Damn straight.” Truman replies.

Mulder suddenly sits down on the ground indian style.

Truman continues. “I was there to pick up a supply of cocaine and heroin. They came up and plugged those two cops. I got away with a clean wound through my shoulder. My guess is Internal Affairs set the whole thing up. Get rid of two dirty cops and one loose cannon.”

“You were the cannon?” I watch as Mulder’s hand travels down his leg. Brandy takes his lead and sat down as well.

I squirm a little to distract Truman from watching Mulder.

“Yep, and I got away. They’ve been on my ass since then. I’m surprised they brought in Feds.” Truman waves the gun away from my face.

“Well so am I.” Mulder suddenly jumps up and palms the small handgun he keeps in his ankle holster.

Truman jumps and slams the gun back into my jaw.

“Don’t fuck with me boy. I’ll blow her pretty head off right quick.”

Don jumps up. “What the fuck!”

Mulder does not even spare me a glance. “Leave it alone Mills. You’re already wanted for muder. Don’t make things worse. If what you’re saying is true we can get our people on everything you’ve mentioned.”

“Fuck you.” Don screams.

“Shut up Don.” Truman yells. “Agent, you’re crazy to play with this girl’s life this way. I don’t care for turning myself in. I will still go to prison either way.”

“Jesus!” Don suddenly comes at Truman. “You realize your gonna pull me under too don’t you. They’re fucking FBI. Don’t even start fucking around with the FBI. Dammit Truman, I don’t want to go to prison either!”

Truman suddenly jerks his arm and I hear the gun explode right next to my ear.

At first I thought I was gone. I thought there would be the white tunnel or clouds or something but when my vision cleared I realize I’m in the same hell as before. The recoil from the gun must have hit my temple and I must have fainted. I’m leaning against Mills now, like a deadweight. I can see Don laying on the ground, Brandy fumbling to remove his shirt. Mulder has dropped his weapon and is standing with his hands up in the air.

I hear Truman’s voice behind me. “I’m not taking any of you with me, if that’s what your thinking. I’m not so stupid as to think I could get away with taking a federal agent hostage.” He suddenly pushes me and I lose my footing, falling to the ground.

Mills sprints for the car and gets in. Mulder dives for his gun that Truman must have made him toss away. But its lost in the thick weeds and choked grass. I hear the Plymouth peel away as I crawl toward Penopscott.

I finish unbuttoning his shirt and survey the wound. It’s bad.

“Mulder give me your shirt.” I say.

Mulder pulls off his t-shirt and tosses it to me. I quickly fold it and place it over the entry wound and apply pressure.

Mulder finds his weapon and comes quickly to stand by us. He is shirtless and holding his gun loosely at his side. Brandy is sobbing and running her fingers through Don’s hair. I feel along his back for an exit wound but his shirt is dry.

“How is it?” Mulder squats down beside us.

“Not good. There’s blood in his mouth so I think the bullet may have gotten a lung.” I check his pulse which is thready and his breathing is definately labored.

“Were you able to get any information out at the Circle K?”

“What? Oh the gas station.” My hands are slick with Don’s blood and I hope he is HIV negative. “If you can believe it, I ran into Paul. I gave him Rene’s card.”

“You think he called?” Mulder is looking around and fidgeting.

“I don’t know. Mulder, we have got to get an ambulance here right away.”

Mulder grabs Brandy by the arm. “Brandy! Is there a phone in that trailer?”

She shakes her head no.

“You’re sure!” She nods her black hair falling forward into her face.

“Dammit. Scully, I’m going on foot. There was a mobile home halfway between here and the main road. I have to try to reach a phone.” Mulder says over my shoulder.

I nod and Mulder squeezes my shoulder and he takes off running.

Part Eight of Eight



I wonder – When I sing along with you – If anything could ever feel this real forever – If anything could ever be this good again – The only thing I’ll ever ask of you – You’ve got to promise not to stop when I say when…

Everlong – The Foo Fighters


The end result of this case was not tidy. It was not wrapped up in a neat package and tied with a red ribbon.

Mulder, bless his sweet little heart ran two miles to the next trailer house and broke a window to use the phone.

Paul Coble, bless his equally sweet heart, had called Rene and with his help, Joe and Rene were able to piece together our movements. The APB had been issued, Truman had been spotted in the Plymouth, and law enforcement were in pursuit.

I stayed with Don applying pressure and attempting to keep him conscious. It was not easy and the more time passed the more Brandy began to fret. I kept her as busy as possible, fetching paper towels, blankets, anything I could think of that would be of use from the trailer. She was gradually becoming hysterical and as darkness fell I began to worry that maybe something had happened to Mulder. But in the distance I heard the sirens and the EMS were on their way.

Truman Mills was apprehended four miles outside of Pleasanton going south on IH 37. He was first spotted on IH 10 and was followed in high pursuit until the Plymouth ran out of gas. He emptied the clip from my firearm, then his own at two Bexar County Deputy Sheriffs, and then placed Mulder’s Sig into his mouth. He was pronounced dead at the scene. The two deputies both received superficial gunshot wounds.

I escorted Don Penopscott in the ambulance as we were rushed to the Guadalupe Valley Hospital in Seguin. Don passed out en route. He was taken into surgery immediately. As I had already surmised the gunshot had punctured his right lung but had also ricochet off a rib damaging stomach, liver, and intestines before the bullet lodged in his spine.

He died in his sleep two days later never regaining conciosness. Brandy did not show up at the hospital and was later found in Austin and arrested as an asserory to murder. The charges were dismissed.

And so after three weeks and two days this ended Mulder and my period of going undercover as Robert and Lisa Mulder.

We quickly packed up the apartment. The nonperishable food was taken to the local children’s shelter and our “clothes” were boxed up to be taken back to Mandy Clerk. These would be cleaned and then distributed to the San Antonio Women’s Shelter and the local YMCA.

Paperwork was filed and our preliminary reports submitted. Kercsh would recieve our full reports later after we were back in D.C. The allegations that Truman Mills had made about the San Antonio Police Department were taken down and an investigation would be handled in time.

I stopped by Lucky’s and said a bittersweet goodbye to Eric Payne. He grinned crookedly and asked if I needed a roommate in D.C. Mulder called to thank Paul Coble from his cell phone on the way to San Antonio and he had to hold the phone away from his ear. Paul’s loud excited voice could be clearly heard yelling over the phone.

“You Motherfuckers. FBI. Who would have believed it. Damn Mulder, you’re some kind of freakin’ cop and you’re over at the warehouse slinging crates like the rest of us. Unfuckingbelievable!” Mulder mumbled something into the phone and listened to the rest with a big smile on his face.

After he hung up I looked at him. “Well?”

“Paul Coble thinks he is some kind of big hero. He got his picture in the local paper and he is now getting laid on a regular basis.”

I smile and look back out the window.

In some strange and almost obscene way I will miss this new life Mulder and I have carved for ourselves. I think I will miss that shabby little apartment with the ugly vinyl kitchen floor. I will miss driving with Mulder at top speed down FM 1011 in that fast car. I may even miss Paul Coble and his loud mouth.

I will not miss that horrible Mrs. Pope and her annoying lottery and Club Mix fetish. I wonder about some of the strange and yet ordinary people we have met and like I often do when our cases come to a close I ponder if we will ever cross paths with these people again.

I will miss living with Mulder. Sharing our existance in an easy silence. I enjoyed the few nights we could just have quiet. Yes he watches too much television and I would like a shot at the remote control. Yes he wakes me up when he goes to run before dawn. Yes his feet are cold when he rubs them on my calves during the night. But it was so easy.

There were no aliens, no conspiracies, no nightmares of Missy’s death and Samantha’s disapearance, no ghosts of the past rearing their ugly heads. It was just easy to put that aside for a little while and just live. It was easy to bury ourselves using this case as some kind of diversion. A diversion from the Truth. Almost like a vacation cruise except the ship was the little town of Seguin and all the people on board were characters that we were forced to coexist with until we dock. It was a good vacation.

We said our goodbyes to Joe and Rene and retired to the Days Inn for one more night, we had to be at the airport at seven. But a little after eleven I was still tossing and was relieved to hear a small knock on my door.

“What, Mulder?” I have to sound stern even if I’m glad to see him.

He’s disheveled and I can tell he’s nervous. After all, this is no longer the Vista Del Ray apartments and he is no longer my husband. I wonder suddenly if the line that was always between us has been erected in the short time it took to wrap up this case. Mulder smiles suddenly, that sweet I’m gonna get you smile, that I cannot resist.

“Y’know Scully, I just realized I never have seen the Alamo.”

“The Alamo?” I ask.

“Yeah, it’s like a national landmark.”

“Mulder, it’s a Texas landmark.” I run my fingers through my hair.

“Same thing.”

“Its almost midnight. Are you suggesting that we go drive downtown just to see a state landmark for a state neither of us lives in?” I ask.

“Well, we do have the Lariat rental car and I um we could try to get it to go as fast as the Roadrunner.” His lips turn up slightly.

“Mulder.” The one word that says it all.

He just looks at me smiling that goofy smile. The same smile he used on Michelle Mitchell-Coble. I have to remember to tell him not to use that on me. It only gets my back up.

I throw my head back and sigh. But I reach back and grab my coat. MY coat. My good wool coat. I follow him down the hall in my slippers, my silk pajamas, and my good navy wool coat.

It was two in morning before we finally pulled up in front of it. It’s easy to get lost in downtown San Antonio. But there it is, The Alamo, backlighted with the familiar roofline and rocklayed courtyard.

“Davy Crockett died here.” Mulder’s voice low timbered and deep came across to me.

“I know. And. And Bowie too. Remember the guy who invented the Bowie Knife.”

“Hmmm.” He growls deep in his throat.

I don’t say anything.

“You know its supposed to be haunted.” He says suddenly.

“So this is an X-file?” I ask?

He coughs. “No this is just a tourist stop. Me and you looking at touristy things in the middle of the night.” He touches my leg. “If it were an X-file we would be in deep shit when we get back to D.C.”

His right hand moves up caressing my thigh through the purple silk of my pajama pants.

He suddenly moves his hand and reaches for me. Cupping the back of my head and holding me in place for the onslaught of his warm mouth. The kiss goes on and on, his tongue and mine, pushing for dominance. After he pulls away I gasp for breath.

This is the first kiss since the end of the case.

The realization hits me and I know that we won’t go back. The line is still gone.

He leans forward and I think he’s about to kiss me again but he only bumps his head against my own and presses his forehead against mine. His eyes are dark and mysterious in the half light from the yard of the Alamo.

I close my eyes and in my mind I see a picture of myself and Mulder, his body broad and bare coming up over and inside me pushing me back into the Day’s Inn mattress as he brings us both to climax. I open my eyes to look into his again.

“Dana Scully.” He whispers.

“Fox Mulder.” I say it a little louder.

He smiles and kisses me chastely. His lips soft and warm pressed for a whisper of a moment against my own.

“Let’s go home.”



You know that I care what happens to you – And I know that your care for me – So I don’t feel alone – Or the weight of the stone – Now that I’ve found somewhere safe – To bury my bone – And any fool know a dog needs a home – A shelter from pigs on the wing…

Pigs On The Wing (Part Two) – Pink Floyd



Just a note: The characters in this story have been based on people I have met in the small Texas towns where I have grown up. The Mills and Penopscotts were modeled after my ex-husbands family. Lovely, huh? The part with the five pound bag of sugar and dishsoap really did happen. Believe me, walking across that kitchen floor was the nastiest sensation I’ve ever had. Yuck. Remember feedback welcome. Thanks.


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