Date: Sun, 4 Jan 1998 22:52:49 EST

The Angel and the Fox

By Gerry Hill (fox42@ix.netcom.com)

A Friday in November, 1997

Special Agent Dana Scully's Apartment

6:48 PM

As Dana Scully dragged her federal ass up to her door, weary from a long week

of frustrating dead ends, she was anticipating a long hot soak in her tub.

The two cases they had worked this week were bad enough, but the further

irritation of the brain-draining idiotic Mulder-theories became the last

straw. His solutions were farther out-there than usual, which was saying a

lot. The last one, something about someone walking through a wall, had

finally managed to snap the tenuous hold on her usual equanimity and she had

said some bitter things to her partner this evening before storming out of the

office. She resolutely shoved the memory of his hurt expression from her

exhausted brain and put her key in the lock.

She froze as a hand was placed on her right shoulder and a male voice said,

"Dana?"

She knew that voice. "Angel?" She spun around to see the tall, darkly

handsome man she remembered from medical school. His grin was as wide as hers

as she threw herself into his arms and they mutually hugged each other. She

found herself being lifted off her feet before he lowered her again to catch

her breath.

"You look wonderful," they both said at the same time, and they smiled.

"Come inside," Scully said as she finished unlocking the door and led him into

her apartment. "We have a lot of catching up to do."

He happily followed her and dropped a duffel bag onto the floor before once

again gathering her up in his bear-like embrace.

Scully felt safe and warm in his arms, and was embarrassed to realize how

hungry she was for this kind of physical display of human emotion. She had

kept her feelings in check for so long, being oh, so careful around Mulder;

not letting him see how much she needed him to be just a friend for a while

and not the intense, inward-dwelling, driven man she saw daily.

Standing back from the Antonio Banderas look-alike, Scully fondly said, "Angel

Luis Esteban Aguilar, it's been a long time." She gave his name the Hispanic

pronunciation, but then reverted to the Anglican version of his first name, as

she added, "Angel, what brings you here? Is everything all right?" She could

immediately see that everything was definitely *not* all right when he turned

his eyes from hers and his smile faded.

He released her and walked to the sofa, sitting down abruptly as though his

knees had given out, and lay his head back on the cushions with a sigh.

Scully sat down next to him as he spoke.

"You know that Ken and I have been living together since we got out of

school?"

Scully nodded her head, afraid that she knew what was coming.

"I found out about three months ago that he was cheating on me, and when I

confronted him, he left. For good. He didn't even tell me where he was

going." The eyes he turned on her were filled with remembered pain. "I

thought we loved each other too much for that to happen. I thought we would

be together for the rest of our lives. I thought..." his voice trailed off

and he closed his eyes once more.

Scully's heart went out to her friend. She knew that Angel had truly loved

Ken. It would take time to come to terms with the loss.

"I've been trying to deal with it these past months and finally decided to get

away for a week or so, visit old friends, see new places. But it never really

leaves me, you know?"

She gently put her hand on his arm, giving him silent support. She smiled her

reassurance when he looked at her, then got to her feet.

"I'll go see what we can fix for dinner. I want to hear all about the private

practice you set up in San Antonio and what's been happening in your life.

You're staying here with me tonight and for as long as you want."

He grabbed her wrist and she halted, looking curiously down at him.

"I'll cook something. You go take a shower or whatever. You look beat."

She didn't even put up a token argument, but obediently reversed direction and

disappeared into the bathroom.

When the doorbell rang a half hour later, Angel had a pot of spaghetti

simmering on the stove. In the bathroom, clean and rosy from the hot bath,

Scully had just donned her terrycloth robe.

Angel answered the door wearing a sauce-spattered apron, wiping his hands on a

dishtowel. The opened door revealed a very surprised Fox Mulder, who then

was treated to the sight of Scully wandering out of the bathroom rubbing her

hair with a towel, dressed only in her robe.

Scully suppressed a laugh at the sight of her partner with his mouth hanging

open, speechless for once. She had to remind herself that they were supposed

to be angry with each other, which was probably the reason he had stopped by.

She could count on one hand the times he had been in her apartment over nearly

five years, so he must be feeling guilty about their disagreement.

"Come on in, Mulder. Angel Aguilar, this is my partner, Special Agent Fox

Mulder. Why don't you both get acquainted while I put some clothes on."

Angel eyed the tall, lanky agent and stepped back, pulling the door fully

open.

"Come in and have some spaghetti with us. It should be ready in fifteen

minutes or so. And as usual, I've made far too much."

Mulder looked exceedingly uncomfortable as he entered, something that Angel

didn't miss. He had also noticed that Scully hadn't clarified the situation

to her partner, who was evidently coming to the obvious conclusion.

"I'm an old friend of Dana's from med school. We're...renewing our

acquaintance."

"So I see," Mulder dryly commented.

With his eyes sparkling, Angel excused himself to tend to dinner. He called

back from the kitchen, "Care for some wine, Agent Mulder?"

He heard a "No, thanks," close behind him and turned to see the lanky man

leaning against the doorframe. Good-looking guy, he thought absently to

himself as he filled the pot with water for the pasta.

Mulder was looking Angel over very thoroughly, not knowing whether he should

deck the guy or just leave and try not to imagine Scully and Angel together.

Gritting his teeth, he asked, "How long are you in town?"

Angel shrugged, and said, "I guess for as long as she wants me." He mentally

went *Ooops, that sounded wrong*, but didn't bother to correct himself.

Mulder was appalled at his reaction to that statement and left the room

abruptly before he grabbed the man by his collar and beat the crap out of him.

Deciding that he needed to leave before he embarrassed himself, he was nearly

to the door when Scully entered the living room dressed in baggy, comfortable

pants and a loosely-draped teal-colored sweater that dipped low enough on her

chest to show some interesting cleavage. She was radiant with a quiet beauty

tonight, and Mulder's heart gave some interesting little flutters. This only

made him angrier and more anxious to get out of there.

"Mulder! You're not leaving?"

She actually seems disappointed that I'm not staying, he thought. "Yeah. I

just wanted to apologize for our disagreement earlier. I was being a jerk."

Scully came closer and took his hand in both of her own. "Please, Mulder.

I'm sorry, too, and I would like for you to stay. Isn't spaghetti your

favorite?" It was her smile that did him in, and he finally nodded, relaxing

a little.

"I'll get you some wine and see how dinner's coming along."

After she left him sitting on the sofa, Mulder once more wished he had simply

gone home. This threesome wasn't going to work. And he didn't want to

examine his feelings for his partner too closely, at least not tonight. He

realized that he was jealous, which was a wholly inappropriate reaction on his

part.

He turned to see what had happened to Scully, and saw her standing on tiptoes

very close to her friend, whispering something in his ear. He found himself

standing and again moving toward the door, determined this time to make his

escape. Mulder really didn't care to see this affectionate display by his

partner, no matter how much he wanted her to have a life outside the X Files.

Reality does bite, he thought sadly.

Scully heard the front door close. She looked out into the living room and

was confronted with an empty sofa. She stared, stunned, for a moment, before

telling Angel, "He's gone."

She sounded so desolate, Angel set his cooking aside and gave her his full

attention.

"Are you two lovers?"

Scully shook her head. "No. He's very protective of me, though. We've been

partners now for nearly five years, and have been through a lot together."

Angel thought he could see something more than simple friendship in Scully's

expression, but wasn't sure. One way to find out.

"Do you mind if I try?"

Bewildered for a couple of seconds, Scully appeared puzzled, then the light

dawned. "Oh! You mean, you and Mulder...." She smiled, then laughed out

loud. "Oh, Angel, I don't think so. It isn't that you're not attractive;

it's just that he's never shown any interest in his own gender before."

"What about showing interest in you?"

She looked shocked at that and protested, "We're professionals. He would

never do something that would jeopardize our careers." She thought a moment,

then added, "Well, mine, anyway. As for his own career, I don't think he's as

careful."

"Dana, are you sure I wouldn't be stepping on toes here if I checked him out

for myself?"

She let a smile play around her lips at the non-existent chance of Mulder

succumbing to Angel's advances. "Of course not, Angel, but I warn you; he's

impetuous and just might punch your lights out if you tried anything."

"I'll be careful," was the smug reply.

Her peal of laughter was infectious and soon Angel was helplessly chortling as

he attempted to drain the pasta. He managed to get strands of the stuff all

over the place, but most of it eventually wound up on their plates. It was a

nice meal, but Scully's thoughts kept returning to Mulder, wondering if his

mood was still low, wishing he had stayed for dinner.

Meanwhile, her partner had forcibly pushed all thoughts of Scully and her

"roommate" aside and was trying to concentrate on the case at hand. He had

gone to Scully's apartment not only with the intention of apologizing, but to

also get her input on the scientific theories involved with the displacement

of the molecules of a human body. He still thought it possible that the

physicist Helen Culverson had discovered a way to "walk" through solid

objects, thus being able to leave a locked room at the four murder sites here

in D. C.

As he drove to the laboratory, where he intended to confront Dr. Culverson, he

glanced at the glowing digital numbers in the dark car and realized that

Scully and Angel were probably through with dinner by now. They might have

moved to the sofa, where she would snuggle into his arms and he would run his

hand over that sweater and caress her soft breasts...Shit! He slammed his

fist onto the top of the dashboard, and then did it again.

Enough with the jealousy, he told himself angrily, admitting that jealousy

was, indeed, exactly what he was feeling. And I'll study *that* little

admission later, he thought, as he stopped in front of a large, fenced-in

building.

He sat in the car for a second, debating whether or not he should go by the

book and call Scully for backup before venturing into the lab. But it was a

fleeting thought only, never having a chance for serious consideration. And

besides, a dark little corner of his mind told him, he would be "interrupting"

Scully and her friend. He got out of the car and walked through the open

gate.

When he pushed a button by the front entrance, he was answered by an

electronic-sounding voice, asking for identification. After Mulder gave his

name and title and who he wanted to see, there was a silence, then a metallic

snick as the lock was released in the door.

He had at least expected a security guard, but found the interior hallway

stark and devoid of life. There were several doors in the walls, and one at

the very end of the hall. He chose that last one to test, and found that it

swung open easily at his touch. A crawling sensation moved down the back of

his neck and he drew his weapon as a precaution when entering the murky half-

lighted room. It was enormous, stretching back farther than he could see,

with stacks of crates lining the fifteen-foot high walls, and counters piled

high with lab-type instruments. Only a few of the fluorescent lights were

working, the rest giving off electrical humming and sparking sounds. The

floor was just a rough concrete slab.

Mulder shut the door firmly and ventured a few feet into the large room. Gun

in hand, he increased the pressure of his grip to compensate for the sweat

from his palm. When he felt the slight breeze of movement behind him, it was

too late to react. A heavy weight rammed into his back, forcing him to his

knees. When they connected with the rough concrete, the cloth tore and it

felt as though his knees were losing several layers of skin from the abrading

contact. Another hard push and he fell forward, slamming into the rough, cold

concrete slab floor. The breath in his lungs whooshed out and his weapon

skittered over the hard surface, coming to rest just beyond the stunned

agent's reach.

Then it felt as though someone had dropped the Washington Monument onto his

head. Mulder felt unbelievable pain for a second, and then a blessed, cool

blackness enveloped the world.

Saturday morning, 7:22 AM

Dana Scully's Apartment

Having gone to sleep early the night before, Scully had gotten out of bed at

6:30, made hot tea, and read most of the morning paper. She had been tiptoing

around in her pajamas, trying not to wake Angel, who was gently snoring on the

opened-up sofa bed. She stopped for a moment to look down at him and saw that

one long naked leg had escaped from the sheet, and his bare, muscular chest

looked delicious. She felt a pang that this gorgeous man would never be

interested in her as a woman. The thought was barely out of her head when his

eyes opened and met hers.

There was some amusement in the depths of Angel's eyes, along with some dark,

indefinable emotion. He held an arm out to her while the other lifted the

sheet invitingly from his boxer-clad body. She climbed into bed and willingly

let herself be engulfed against this warm, sleepy man.

After a few minutes, Scully thought she heard a tapping sound, but wasn't

sure, since her ears were partially covered with Angel's arms and chest. She

snuggled closer, and suddenly felt what had to be a significant erection

against her lower belly. Startled, she looked up at his face and he grinned.

"I'm not dead, you know. Actually, it's partially from the dream I was having

when I woke up and partially from a warm body rubbing against me. Sorry if I

offended you."

Scully noticed that the warm feeling in her lower body wasn't dissipating.

"You didn't offend--" Suddenly the front door flew open. Mulder stood in the

doorway, keys in a shaking hand, taking in the scene in front of him before

collapsing quietly to bleed onto her hardwood floor.

She reached his side in an instant, eyes widening when she saw the head wound.

She wondered with anguish how, with all the head damage he had taken over the

years, he had avoided permanently scrambling that brilliant brain of his. She

hoped with all her heart that his luck was still holding out.

Angel had quickly pulled on some jeans and was there by Scully's side, seeing

if he could help in any way. Mulder was conscious, shoving their hands away,

trying to struggle to his feet. Scully was equally as persistent in trying to

keep him lying down.

Finally, exasperated with his stubbornness, Scully stood, hands on hips, and

declared, "Mulder, you need a hospital. I'm calling 911 for an ambulance."

He stopped moving and leaned back on his elbows in a partially seated

position. "Please, no," he whispered. "Scully, I'll be good and do whatever

you ask. Just don't send me to the hospital again. I'm not concussed. I'll

be all right."

The pleading look in his light hazel eyes won her over, against her better

judgment.

With a sigh, she asked Angel if he would help get him into the bathroom where

Mulder could sit in the tub on a small bench seat and let a shower wash the

grit and grime off his scraped knees and head wound. "I'll be able to do a

thorough examination and then disinfect the areas that need it."

Mulder waved Angel off, however, when he tried to lend him a hand. The surly

agent managed to stand, wobbling a bit, and slowly made his way to the

bathroom. Scully shook her head in resignation and followed right behind.

She helped him shrug out of his suit coat, then matter-of-factly helped him

remove his tie, shirt, undershirt, shoes, socks and pants. She left him to

get out of his boxers while she retrieved fresh towels and wash cloths from

the hall linen closet.

"Angel, please keep an eye on him while I get my medical kit," she asked,

handing the towels and wash cloths to her friend. "Besides, as a practicing

doctor, you're more qualified to know if anything is wrong with him than I

would, since my expertise is with dead people."

He smiled, obediently tapped on the bathroom door lightly and went in. He saw

that Mulder had turned the water on and was sitting on the bench in the tub,

letting the water cascade over his body.

Angel's breath caught in his throat at seeing this hurt and vulnerable man.

He was beautiful. The water flowed over his hair, over the closed eyelids and

lashes, down his strong-featured face, over that full lower lip; it rushed

down in sheets across that sculpted back and chest, flattening the hair that

ran from his collarbones down to where his forearm lay across his lap...

With a start, Angel realized that Mulder was slowly toppling sideways.

Lunging forward he caught the agent around the chest, marveling at how soft

Mulder's skin was, yet how firm the muscles under the skin felt. *Oh, God,

where's Dana?* was all he could frantically think when he realized how

inappropriately turned on he was getting.

Scully walked in the door at that moment and saw his dilemma. Placing her

medical kit on the counter, she sat on the edge of the tub and checked

Mulder's respiration and reactions, satisfying herself that he had just fallen

asleep. Angel confirmed her conclusions when he said, "I think he's OK. It's

just the blood loss and a natural escape from the trauma he's been through."

He continued to hold Mulder upright while Scully quickly shampooed and rinsed

her partner's hair, taking care to get the scalp wound clean, and then ran a

soapy washcloth gently over his abraded knees. This served to wake him up,

and his eyes were indignant when he muttered, "Do you *mind*? I don't need a

bathroom full of people while I'm taking a shower."

Scully ignored him, knowing what a grump he could be when injured and being

tended to. Angel took the hint, however, and left the room.

She turned the water off, grabbed a towel and draped it over his head.

"Here, Mulder. Dry yourself off, then put on the sweat pants and shirt I set

over there for you."

He pulled the towel from his head so that he could look at the expensive store

label hanging from the well-made outfit, and raised his eyebrows in a silent

question. For the first time, however, he was getting a good look at Scully

and his eyebrows rose even higher. She still was wearing her pajamas, which

were now wet from her contact with him in the shower.

Scully realized suddenly what he must be seeing, and chose to simply ignore

it, returning to the subject of the sweats.

"I bought them as a birthday present for my brother Charles, but I'm sure you

need them more than he does at the moment." She showed him a tube of

antibacterial ointment lying next to the clothes. "And put this on your knees

before getting into the sweat pants. There's gauze and tape next to it, all

ready to put over the scrapes. If you need help with it, holler, and I'll do

it for you. When you're done, I'll put something on the scalp wound."

Mulder had wrapped the towel around his waist, stepped out of the tub, and

reached for the pants. Since he was obviously going to get dressed even with

her standing near him in the close confines of the bathroom, Scully beat a

hasty retreat, closing the door behind her.

She ran to her bedroom and changed clothes, donning her jeans and a denim

shirt. Once she rejoined Angel in the living room, Scully told him, "Thanks

for helping me with Mulder. He can be a handful sometimes."

Angel smiled. "But a nice handful, don't you agree?"

Scully's gaze hit his full force as she said, "Oh, God. It never occurred to

me..."

"Don't worry. I'm very honorable. Besides, it's so soon after Ken...I only

wanted to tease you when I asked earlier if I could have a shot at him. It's

pretty obvious that he's only interested in you."

Scully looked shocked.

"Dana, it's obvious even to me that the man was jealous as hell when he saw me

here in your apartment doing the domesticated bit."

She started to whisper, "We can't..." when her eye was caught by a shimmering

near the front door. The quivering, out-of-focus air mass coalesced into a

tall, curvaceous brunette wearing a white lab coat. She stood there, grinning

at them, and Scully and Angel could only stare. If Scully didn't know better,

she'd have sworn the woman had just walked through the wall.

(Continued in Part 2)

By Gerry Hill (fox42@ix.netcom.com)

Even though Scully had seen the woman materialize in front of her, she could

not bring herself to believe that she had truly "walked" through a wall. And

the woman seemed to recognize this disbelief.

"What's the matter, Dr. Scully? Can't trust your own eyes?" Dr. Culverson

seemed to be amused, although her eyes remained deadly serious. Scully

suddenly noticed the gun that their intruder was holding at her side.

"Now, where is Agent Mulder? I have some unfinished business with him. He

pulled his own magic trick and arose after his death. I'm not pleased that I

had to go searching for him when I have so much to get done." She looked

thoughtful. "Well, to be truthful, after a taste of his mind, I recognized an

irresistible urge to play with it just a bit more."

As if on cue Mulder came wandering out of the bathroom in his new sweats,

holding one hand to his aching head, and the other grasping the waistband of

the pants to keep them from sliding down his hips.

"Hey, Scully, got a safety-pin?" He stopped abruptly when he realized they

had a visitor.

Then three people saw three different things happen at once. Mulder saw Dr.

Culverson raise her weapon and shoot Scully and Angel point-blank in the head.

Blood and brain matter flew outward, spattering onto the sofa and floor while

their bodies crumpled bonelessly. Mulder's scream of agony was ripped from

his lungs and from his heart.

Meanwhile, Scully saw Dr. Culverson shoot Mulder three times in the chest; he

fell mortally wounded to the floor, blood everywhere. Her anguished cry ended

when a blow caught her on the head and she lost consciousness.

Angel's personal illusion was to see Scully and Mulder die, shot several times

each, while he stared on in horror. Then he, too, experienced oblivion when

he was knocked unconscious.

Holding her gun on a grief-stricken Mulder, Dr. Culverson was pleased with the

results of her little experiment. She had never tried to cause three

hallucinations at once with three different people, but it seemed to have

worked beautifully.

"Your friends are dead, Agent Mulder," she told the swaying, stunned agent.

"As you will be in a second. I just wanted to enjoy your pain before I kill

you."

Mulder didn't much care what would happen to himself, as he felt a madness

settle over his mind, taking over his body's reactions and movements. With an

enraged roar he sprang at the surprised doctor, grabbing her wrist before she

could think to pull the trigger of the gun. His movements were so fast that

she found herself slamming into the floor with a violence that shoved the

breath out of her lungs before she could quite comprehend what was going on.

She was still fighting to get air back into her starving lungs when Mulder's

strong hand closed around her throat. His other hand, still holding her gun

hand immobile, suddenly ripped the gun free. It was a revolver, and he cocked

it, moving the next chamber in line with the pin. He pointed the barrel at

her right eye, his finger tightening on the trigger.

Dr. Culverson's heels were beating against the floor as she fought to find

air. Her vision was fading quickly with her body's cells screaming for

oxygen. But that wouldn't be what killed her, a small part of her mind noted.

The bullet Mulder was about to put into her brain would do that.

"Mulder..." A small sound behind the agent floated to his ears as he

straddled the doctor he was about to execute. He listened for another sound

even as his finger tightened further on the trigger.

"Don't. Mulder, please..." came Scully's whisper, making his aim slightly

waver. He very nearly fired the weapon then, due to the tremor running

through his hand in reaction to his partner's voice.

Abruptly sitting back, he released Dr. Culverson's throat and raised the gun

away from her face. Immediately she twisted to one side choking and gasping

desperately, unable to breathe properly. Mulder ignored her, having turned

his wild-looking eyes toward the impossibly alive Scully. She was sitting up

and gingerly touching her head, wincing at the pain.

Mulder scooted off the doctor's now unconscious body to crawl over to Scully's

side. He tentatively reached out and touched her cheek, feeling its smooth

warmth. He couldn't help himself then, and pulled her against him in a fierce

embrace.

Scully returned the hug but only for a moment. She pushed back slightly and

said, "We have to check Angel. He's hurt, too."

Mulder immediately backed off and his expression became unreadable. Except

for his eyes...Scully felt a pang at the hurt she saw there. "Mulder, it

isn't what you think." She could see, though, that he had put up his walls

again and wasn't listening. Well, she couldn't waste time with his jealousy

or feelings of rejection or whatever was bothering him. She deliberately

avoided thinking about *why* he would have any cause to be jealous to begin

with.

Scully moved over to Angel, who was still unconscious. Blood trickled from a

cut at his hairline. She saw that he would have quite a bump there later, but

a look at his eyes didn't indicate a concussion. She thought he would be all

right. Her own head was throbbing viciously, reminding her of her own injury,

and she thought all three of them to be lucky, with no evident concussions to

show for the blows their heads had taken.

That left Dr. Culverson. Scully'd had a taste of what she could do and

figured they would have to keep her unconscious for their own safety. She

really doubted that the woman could actually walk through a wall, but it was

better to take precautions. After all, *something* had happened, and

handcuffs might not be enough to ensure that it didn't happen again.

Scully retrieved her medical kit from the closet, took out a syringe and a

small bottle, and asked Mulder to help her. He nodded and held the doctor's

arm steady for the injection.

He noted that Dr. Culverson was breathing properly again, and was beginning to

regain consciousness. In fact, her eyes widened at the sight of the needle as

she became aware of her surroundings. But thank God for Scully; she moved

quickly, pushing the plunger home even as Mulder felt the tickling of

something at the edges of his mind.

He dropped the doctor's arm and spun on Scully, seeing her bringing another

filled syringe to bear on him. He shoved her onto her back, diving for the

syringe at the same time. Mulder found himself lying across Scully's body,

holding her arm against the floor, her hand clutching an empty syringe. Her

bewildered eyes stared up into his, but they were slowly clearing.

"Mulder?"

His quick mind was rapidly sifting through all that had recently happened, and

he shuddered as he made connections and conclusions. The unwelcome memory of

Robert Modell had occurred to him. The mind control that man had exhibited

was certainly not something he ever wanted to re-live.

He realized suddenly that he was still lying on Scully, staring into her

slightly bemused eyes.

As he scrambled to get off her, he was embarrassed to realize that the loose

sweat pants had slipped much lower than was decent in polite company.

"Shit," he muttered, desperately pulling them higher as he stood.

Although uncertain as to what was going on, Scully had to bite back a smile at

his dilemma.

"I'll trade a safety pin for your telling me what the hell you were doing,"

she offered.

With an exasperated huff, he said, "Scully, that woman has been causing us to

see things that weren't really happening. It's a form of hypnosis, although

it certainly goes beyond that. Before the drug you gave her took effect, she

caused me to "see" you trying to stab me with another full syringe."

Scully looked down at the woman in disbelief, but thought that Mulder's theory

would explain a lot of things, including how she saw Mulder being killed, when

he obviously was still alive and in somewhat good health.

Like Mulder, the thought of mind-control frightened her a good deal. The

memory of Modell forcing Mulder to play Russian roulette by first putting a

gun to his own head and then pointing it at hers was not a thing she wanted to

recall.

Without a word she went into a back room and returned with a large dangerous-

looking safety pin, telling Mulder with a straight face, "Be careful where you

stick this."

He cringed at the picture *that* conjured up, and carefully fastened the side

of the pants at the waist. Scully called the D.C. police meanwhile, and also

took a moment to inform their boss, AD Skinner, what was happening. She was

somewhat surprised that he took the news with a calm acceptance, only asking

that they keep him updated on future developments.

As she disconnected, she heard Mulder call, "Scully. Your friend is waking

up."

Sure enough, she could see Angel sitting with a hand to his head looking with

bewilderment at a live Mulder and Scully. When she knelt on one knee at his

side, he surprised his friend by pulling her off-balance against his chest and

tightly hugging the small body. "You're alive," he whispered in her ear.

Scully pushed back and said, "Yes, that was apparently an illusion. We're all

OK, thank God."

Angel let her go, but saw Mulder's dark-eyed stare eating holes through him

from across the room. Dammit, I'm screwing this up for them completely, he

was thinking. After we're done with the cops, I need to take him aside and

set him straight about Dana's and my relationship.

Sirens proclaimed the arrival of the police. Looking out the window, Scully

saw a marked car with colored lights flashing, as well as one unmarked police

vehicle and an ambulance.

The emergency medical technicians entered first, and Scully got them started

on checking Angel over. Mulder's eyes narrowed and he thought what Scully

might do to him if she knew what her partner had in mind for treating "poor"

Angel's wound.

It wasn't long before Scully's apartment was full of people milling around.

Mulder sighed with relief at seeing a detective walk into the room with whom

he had worked in the past. Joe Lassiter was a six-foot-five African-American

who outweighed Mulder by a hundred pounds at least. He was solid, not much

fat, and was already losing hair at the relatively young age of 38. When he

saw Mulder he came to a dead stop and groaned.

"I knew my day was going too good to last," he griped, but put out his hand to

shake Mulder's when it was offered. "What kind of trouble are you in now?" he

asked glumly.

Mulder was grinning at him, knowing his dour exterior was just an act. This

man was probably the most intelligent officer in D.C., and had a dry sense of

humor that had reduced Mulder to helpless laughter on several occasions.

"Detective Lassiter, it's great to see you again."

"Mmm hmmm. Now that the niceties are out of the way, let's hear your sorry

tale."

Mulder got down to business and told him everything, starting with his

suspicions on his case, the visit to the lab, and what had happened here in

the apartment. During this explanation, Detective Lassiter's expression went

from patient listener to sympathetic friend, to incredulous cop.

"Come on, Mulder. Jeez, but you're a monumental pain in the butt. I can't

tell that story in my report and expect to have it swallowed whole by the

judicial system. Let's see. According to you, this woman is a mad scientist

who can control your mind and make you see and believe things are happening

that really aren't happening. You say that she's killed some people and was

about to kill you."

He pinned Mulder with his pissed off glare and said, "So you're still into

this creepy, paranormal shit. Man, I don't need this. If I had known you

were involved when the call came in, I would have sent Cruz. Being ten years

younger, she can take the aggravation."

Mulder kept quiet, knowing that Lassiter just needed to blow off steam before

buckling down to work on the case.

"So how are we supposed to keep this doctor incarcerated if she can control

our minds?" It was obvious that Lassiter was trying to keep the annoyance out

of his voice.

Mulder's simply said, "Keep her sedated; that's what we did."

Lassiter snorted. "Yeah, right. I can just hear the lawyers screaming about

that one. Talk about violating a person's rights before they're even formally

charged."

"Well, she's going to escape if you don't keep her from projecting her own

version of reality, Joe."

"And you're really serious about what she can do?"

"Very."

He thought about it for a minute, muttered about "next he'll be telling me

she's a mind-sucking alien," and then called a few of the officers over to

him.

Mulder wandered over to the sofa and sank into a cushion with a sigh. He was

going to stay out of the way and let Detective Lassiter set up a plan for

keeping Doctor Culverson in custody. Besides, the tall, gorgeous redhead who

was currently on her hands and knees doing her forensics job was much more fun

to watch. But she finished her work, packed up her camera and plastic

evidence bags, and left much too soon.

Then he saw Scully approach Lassiter and get involved in the discussion going

on there. After a few minutes, Lassiter pulled out his notebook again and

began jotting down items of interest as his partner apparently was giving her

version of recent events.

Mulder saw Angel headed his way and ignored him, hoping he would get the hint.

But then he felt the sofa cushions dip slightly as Angel sat down next to him.

Dammit. Now to try and be civil, for Scully's sake.

"Agent Mulder, I..."

"Just 'Mulder' is fine."

"OK, Mulder. I want you to know that Dana and I are..."

"Sorry, but I really don't want to hear about it." Mulder realized that he

was already beyond being civil.

"We're not..."

"Enough, already!" Mulder's voice cracked and he felt dangerously close to

throttling the guy, even if he were taller and more muscular.

"I'm gay."

That...was interesting, Mulder thought. His memory flashed back to the bare-

chested Angel with his arms around his own naked body in the shower. A blush

instantly formed and he hoped it wasn't too obvious.

Angel, however, didn't miss the blush and was quick to reassure Mulder.

"Don't worry. I may be attracted to you, but that doesn't mean I'd do

anything about it." Nothing like being honest, he thought.

But Mulder was far from being reassured. "You're attracted to me?" he

practically squeaked in dismay.

"Uh, yeah. But, like I said, you won't ever even notice it. I would never

want to come between you and Dana. Unless you wanted me to, of course."

Mulder looked Angel in the eyes for the first time during the conversation.

"Scully knows that you're, um, gay?"

"Sure. Since we first met in college."

Mulder looked thoughtful at that news. "So she knew I would think that you

were sleeping with her when I dropped by earlier."

Angel nodded, wondering where he was going with this.

Mulder had a big grin on his face, thinking that Scully wouldn't have given

him the wrong impression for any other reason than to make him jealous. And

the only reason he could see for that, was because she knew how he felt about

her. Carrying that thought further, she must feel the same about him. Oh,

God. He was getting into some scary territory, here. Then an evil idea

occurred to him.

"Angel, would you be willing to go along with something if it means that I can

get my revenge on Scully for misleading me?"

"That depends. Dana isn't someone you want to mess with, if you know what I

mean."

Mulder nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah. But she deserves having the tables turned

on her for once."

He looked at Angel and said, "Would you go with it if I gave her the

impression that we're, uh, mutually attracted?"

Angel frowned. "You're not, though. Are you?" There was a wistful note in

the last question, Mulder noticed.

"No, sorry," he was quick to reply.

"Well, I don't like lying to her, but I have to agree that she should have

cleared up our

relationship from the beginning with you. OK, I'll go along, but only long

enough to teach her a lesson."

"Great." He smiled. "Thanks."

The timing was perfect, since Scully approached them just at that moment. She

had apparently taken a minute to change out of her casual clothes and looked

very professional wearing a cream-colored blouse with a navy blue skirt and

jacket.

"Detective Lassiter needs us to go to the precinct with him, since this is

such an unusual case. There are some things that have to be verified and he

is requesting a copy of our case file on the other murders that you're

attributing to the doctor."

"Scully, I'm sure you can handle that yourself, since both of us aren't

needed. Besides," he said, as he looked down at himself, "I'm hardly dressed

for work."

"And what were you planning to do?" she said, with a questioning look.

"I'm going to help Angel move his things over to my place. We're finding that

we have a lot in common and want a chance to get to know each other better."

Scully's mouth dropped open as she stared at him. She didn't know what to say

for a full minute, and just looked from one to the other.

Finally, she found her voice. "Angel, did you tell Mulder about..."

"Yep. He's fine with it, Dana. He has a very open mind, open to new

experiences."

Angel and Mulder smiled at each other.

Dana thought she was going to be ill.

Their attention was drawn to the removal of the unconscious Doctor Culverson's

body on a gurney, accompanied by several uniformed officers. Apparently

everyone was clearing out of the apartment. Detective Lassiter stood at the

front door tapping his foot, impatiently waiting for the two agents.

She turned back to Angel and asked, "So you're not going to stay with me? I

thought we were going to catch up on everything."

"We can still do that, Dana. I'll be over to pester you tomorrow."

She nodded and walked toward the increasingly impatient detective, turning

once to look back at her two friends. Mulder was definitely in Angel's

personal space, nodding at something Angel was telling him. Very cozy. She

bit her lower lip and went out with Detective Lassiter.

As the door shut, Mulder smiled slowly.

Angel closed his eyes, feeling the tall agent's body heat as he stood next to

him, and mentally groaned. This was not easy. He was aware of Mulder's

closeness, of his breath and heartbeat, and ached to hold the man against his

own body.

Mulder sensed this turmoil and stepped back abruptly, looking distinctly ill-

at-ease.

Angel flushed, embarrassed that the other man had picked up so quickly on his

feelings.

"Did you really mean for me to move over to your apartment?" he asked, testing

how far Mulder wanted to go with this deception.

"No, not unless you want to, and need a place to crash for awhile. I have to

admit that I'm feeling pretty uncomfortable with this situation and I would

just as soon things got back to normal. God knows what Scully must be

thinking is going on here."

Angel's mouth twitched as he thought about her incredulous expression when

Mulder told her they wanted to get to "know each other better."

Mulder caught the attempt Angel was making not to laugh, and before long they

were both snickering, then full-out roaring at the situation.

It took a few minutes but they finally calmed down, wiping their eyes and

stifling a stray snort now and then. Mulder wandered into the kitchen and

called out, "Want anything? We didn't have breakfast."

Angel called back, "Just some juice," and began picking up fallen cushions and

knocked-over items in an attempt to make the place more presentable. Dana was

going to be pissed at the mess in here, he was thinking.

As he stood up from straightening out a rumpled throw-rug, he was met with a

hand offering a full glass of orange juice. He accepted it gratefully, but

nearly dropped the glass when his eyes met the beautiful hazel ones which were

frankly appraising him.

"Mulder," he said with a tremor in his voice. "I don't think we should hang

out together. I just might throw you down and have my way with you."

The agent first paled, then a flush suffused his features. "Nothing like

being open and honest, huh?"

They finished their drinks and then Mulder said, "I'm going over to my

apartment and get cleaned up. Then I had better go see if I can give Scully a

hand, since I promised I wouldn't run out on her any more." He was clearly

uncomfortable, not meeting Angel's eyes.

After gathering his ruined clothing and other belongings, he tucked them under

one arm and proffered his free hand to the man who was hovering nearby.

They shook hands with a firm grip, Mulder once again giving Angel a searching

look, then he was gone. Angel barely made it to the sofa where he collapsed,

his hand clutched to his chest. Christ, he was thinking; after nearly losing

it when Ken left, what do I do? Fall completely for someone who can never

return those feelings. Now what, you stupid bastard? And what about Dana?

You assured her that you were "honorable" and wouldn't come between them.

Jesus, what a sorry fuckup you are.

(Continued in Part 3)

By Gerry Hill (fox42@ix.netcom.com)

It didn't take long for Mulder to change his clothes once he reached his

apartment. Having shed the borrowed sweat suit over the arm of a chair on his

way to the bedroom, he grabbed a clean shirt, underwear, socks and his dark

blue suit. He only hesitated over a tie, then grabbed one that he hadn't yet

worn. It was dark gray with tiny little yellow eyes all over it. To anyone

who didn't have his nose up against the tie, it would simply look like an odd-

shaped polka-dot pattern.

When he pulled up his boxers and then his pants, he was careful not to disturb

the gauze over his knees. He noticed there was a little blood seeping

through, which was probably from when he had to bend his knees sitting down in

the car, causing the healing skin to split open again. It had stung like

hell, he recalled. His head sported a good-sized knot where he had been

blind-sided, but there wasn't anything he could do about it but to take

several more aspirin.

Once in the car, he dialed Scully's cel phone number.

"Scully."

"Hey, Scully, where are you?"

"Mulder? I'm in my car on the way to St. Elizabeth's Hospital, where they're

temporarily keeping Dr. Culverson under guard. Someone higher up was

scandalized at the 'blatant violation of her rights.' The upshot is that he's

convinced a judge to order her released from sedation so that she can enlist a

lawyer's help in defending herself. I'm trying to reach the place before she

wakes up."

There was a silence over the line as Mulder thought about the consequences of

an awake Doctor Culverson.

"Scully, don't go to the hospital."

"What? I have to."

"Dammit, Scully, listen to me. Forget your senses of duty, professionalism,

and whatever else gets your clock running and stay the hell away from that

hospital!"

Silence. Uh, oh, that didn't go over well. Mulder reminded himself too late

that she didn't react kindly to direct commands, especially when told to trash

her whole code of ethics. He had a sickening sense of failure and stepped on

the gas pedal. The hospital was about half an hour away. He could do it in

twenty minutes if he ignored all traffic regulations and didn't get himself

killed.

Scully's voice in his ear startled him, she had been silent for so long. She

was sweetly saying, "Angel likes to play games, Mulder. Why don't you pull

out your 'Alien Invader' and knock his socks off?" Her voice suddenly melted

into a snarl. "And I'll just do the job that we're being paid for." She

disconnected.

Ouch. Mulder knew he deserved that, and it looked as though his little joke

with Angel had worked too well.

He narrowly missed having about six accidents, but finally screeched his car

to a stop in front of the hospital. He left the door hanging open as he

practically fell out of the car and headed for the entrance. The sliding

glass doors parted too slowly for him and they barely cleared his body as he

passed impatiently through, on his way to the front desk.

Having his ID open and ready, he asked, "Doctor Helen Culverson is being held

here by the police. Could you please tell me where can I find her room? My

partner, Special Agent Dana Scully, should have already arrived."

The clerk was actually helpful and directed him to the third floor. He took

the stairs and soon was standing outside the closed door to Room 311.

So where are the fucking guards, he was thinking, realizing that something was

very wrong with this picture. He un-holstered his gun and held it pointing at

the ceiling, both hands gripping it tightly. Pushing the door cautiously with

his foot, it swung slowly open, stopping with a bump against the sole of

someone's foot.

Mulder slipped into the room through the partially-opened door, briefly noting

that the body on the floor was that of a police officer with a badly bleeding

head wound. Dr. Culverson lay in the hospital bed in front of him with her

eyes closed. Some movement to the agent's right caused him to reflexively

bring his gun to bear on that area of the room.

Despite a part of his mind telling him to beware of how the doctor could twist

reality, Mulder found himself aghast at the sight of a tall blonde man holding

a wicked-looking knife tightly against his partners neck. As he watched in

horror, blood began to trickle from where the knife was breaking the skin.

Scully's body was rigid with fear, her eyes closed tightly.

The agent reacted according to his training and yelled, "Federal agent! Drop

the weapon and put your hands in the air!" The man took no notice of him, but

grinned and told his terrified partner, "Say goodby to your friend,

sweetheart."

Mulder knew he had to decide in a heartbeat what to do, since the attacker was

clearly about to cut her throat. The knife pressed harder and the blood

flowing down the whiteness of her throat was more than a trickle now.

His finger tightened on the trigger of his weapon.

Coming to a split-second decision and fervently praying that he was doing the

right thing, he swivelled toward the figure in the bed and fired one round.

Dr. Culverson saw his movement and desperately tried to change his mind with

another image, but the bullet smashed into her head before the thought could

form. Which had been his intention.

Seeing that Culverson wasn't a threat anymore, Mulder turned back toward

Scully, afraid of what he might find. He could finally breathe again when he

saw that she seemed to be all right. His partner was standing next to a

middle-aged man with thinning brown hair and glasses who appeared to be a

staff doctor, judging by the name tag which identified him as "Dr. P.

Richards." Both Scully and Dr. Richards looked pale and were staring at

Mulder in shock.

Several nurses, an orderly, and a couple of doctors showed up to check out the

gunshot. Most of them hastily departed when they saw Mulder with a gun in his

hand. One of the doctors had the presence of mind to call 911 on his cel

phone. The second doctor saw that the woman on the bed was beyond help, and

began examining the man on the floor.

Mulder wearily re-holstered his gun and said, "Scully, tell me what happened

in here after you arrived."

Still stunned after watching her partner kill the woman on the bed, she

hesitated, then replied, "When I got here, there was no guard outside the

room. I entered to find Dr. Richards and the guard struggling with each

other. Dr. Richards was able to knock the man to the floor and he hit his

head on the metal frame of the bed as he fell. There's a bad gash over his

temple. He's alive, but I wasn't able to revive him."

Dr. Richards spoke up at this point. "The guard attacked me when I stopped to

check on the patient. He kept screaming and seemed quite demented."

Scully touched Mulder's arm and said, "Then you showed up, pointing your gun

at Dr. Richards, acting as though you were going to kill him. But instead,

you killed Dr. Culverson." Her eyes were full of questions.

Mulder was well-aware of her shock at his actions; they mirrored his own. He

was deeply affected by what he had done, but knew they would all have died had

he not taken Dr. Culverson out of the picture completely. OK, that was a cop-

out. He hadn't "taken her out of the picture." He had shot and killed her.

Get used to it, he harshly told himself.

"What the hell are you people doing screwing up a crime scene?!" The loud

voice floated in from the hallway, announcing Detective Lassiter's arrival.

When he entered the room it seemed to shrink by half its size to accommodate

his presence.

Immediately planting himself in front of Mulder, his nose inches from the

agent's nose, he said forcefully, "I raced over here when I was told about the

judge's order. Obviously, I didn't make it in time. What the fuck happened?"

With a stony expression, Mulder stated, "I shot and killed Dr. Culverson,

believing she was going to kill my partner, myself and probably several

others."

Lassiter digested this news, then walked over to the bed. Refraining from

disturbing the scene, he looked around, then asked Mulder what he had used as

a weapon. Mulder pushed his suit coat aside on the right, indicating his gun.

Lassiter mutely took possession of the weapon and dropped it into a plastic

evidence bag. While marking it, he morosely noted, "There's no sign that the

victim was armed. You killed that apparently defenseless woman in her

hospital bed." He looked into Mulder's eyes and shook his head. "You're

fucked, man. I know that you told me she was controlling minds, but who's

going to believe that?"

Scully spoke up, when it was obvious that her partner was not going to

respond.

"Detective, you have myself, Mulder and Mr. Aguilar as witnesses to the damage

she caused to us at my apartment. And as for this incident at the hospital,

you have Dr. Richards, the guard who was injured, myself, and Mulder for

verification of her strange and lethal...abilities."

There was a lot of talking, negotiating, a few phone calls, the taking of

detailed statements from all involved, and some stretching of the rules before

Lassiter finally lost his temper, telling Scully, "Fine! He's all yours. As

an officer of the law, he's in your custody for the time being. Take him

home, keep an eye on him, and be prepared for a probable arrest."

It was nearly 1:00 PM by then, so Scully turned to her partner and said she

would follow him to his apartment, where he could pack up some things, then go

to her place for a late lunch.

As they took an elevator down to the lobby, Mulder was arguing with her. "I'm

not going to be babysat."

"You don't really have a choice, Mulder. You heard the detective. I'm

supposed to keep an eye on you so they can pull you in if they have to. This

case is far from over." She glanced up at him from the corners of her eyes

and commented, "You can bring Angel along with you. The two of you seem to be

getting along quite well."

Mulder had forgotten that she thought Angel had moved to his apartment.

"He's still at your place, Scully. Listen, he and I..."

"Please, Mulder. I really don't want to hear about your mutual admiration

society with Angel right now."

They were exiting the elevator, and she could see him clench his teeth as he

refrained from commenting.

Scully deftly changed the subject. "Do you want to call Skinner, or shall I?"

At the look on his face, she quickly said, "Don't worry, I'll give him a call

and let him know what's happening."

As she settled into her car she watched her partner's lanky frame moving

slower than usual toward his own vehicle down the row. She waited for a few

minutes after he disappeared, but there was no sign of his car leaving the

parking space. Worried, Scully got back out and approached the rear of his

familiar vehicle. He was inside but he wasn't moving.

When she opened the driver's door, Mulder didn't react to her presence. His

eyes were closed and his forehead was pressed against the steering wheel; his

hands gripped the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"Mulder," she began, placing her hand on his taut shoulder.

A shuddering sigh escaped him. He lifted his head to stare out of the

windshield, but his expression was difficult to read.

"Let's go, Scully. I'm OK."

She could clearly see that he was far from OK, but also realized that he

wasn't going to bare his soul to her right here in a parking lot.

"I'll meet you at your apartment," she said, giving his shoulder a pat.

It took a little more than an hour to drive to Mulder's apartment, pick up

some overnight things, and then drive over to Scully's place.

After Scully unlocked the door, Mulder strode into the living room and threw

his bag into a corner. Angel had been dozing on the sofa and sat bolt upright

at the sudden noise.

The first thing he saw was Mulder with a sad and defeated air, standing

forlornly with his hands on his hips in the middle of the room. Angel asked,

"Are you all right?" as he got to his feet and approached the silent agent.

In reply, Mulder shook his head no and closed his eyes for just a moment.

Angel moved to come closer, but Mulder held a forefinger up in a cautionary

way. The agent's gaze locked with the other man's and Angel bore the full

impact of stormy hazel eyes darkened with raw emotion. Then Mulder turned

without a word, walked down the hall and they heard a door close.

Angel turned to Scully for an explanation, but she was mentally berating

herself for not seeing back in the hospital just how deeply her partner had

been affected by his part in the execution of Dr. Culverson. He had shot

Modell in a similar fashion when Modell's mind control over Mulder had been

temporarily broken. But his reaction that time had been horror at how close

he himself had come to killing Scully under Modell's direction.

This time was different. This time he had killed a woman who had been lying

in a hospital bed. She hadn't held his mind captive as Modell had. She had

merely provided visions and images to confuse him and to cause him to take

actions that he normally wouldn't have taken.

Scully was thinking that Mulder had never shot anyone unless it had been a

matter of life or death. Killing Dr. Culverson *had* been such a situation,

but now he might be thinking how he could have handled it in a less lethal

manner. He had an infinite capacity for guilt, unfortunately.

In the bathroom, Mulder gripped the edge of the lavatory and leaned forward to

stare at his face in the mirror. After a moment of solemn contemplation he

took his suit coat off and hung it on the hook at the back of the door. Once

his tie had been removed as well, and his shirt sleeves rolled up, he splashed

his face with cold water. After repeating the ablution, Mulder remained bent

over the lavatory, his face in his hands. A raw, harsh sound was ripped from

his throat, and then another. He would have screamed and wept in his rage at

what had happened and what was still to come. But he wasn't by himself to

indulge in the release. After a moment he took a deep breath and, using a

nearby towel, roughly dried his face.

During this time Scully had explained to her friend what had happened at the

hospital. She tried to convey why she thought that Mulder had reacted to

Angel the way he had. Scully described just how deeply her partner had been

affected by the taking of the woman's life and the searing guilt he must be

feeling.

"How can he keep doing this to himself and still function, if he takes the

weight of the world onto his shoulders every time?" Angel wondered aloud.

Scully could only shake her head, wondering about that very thing and not for

the first time.

"Angel, could I ask you a question? I don't expect an answer if it makes you

feel uncomfortable or if it's none of my business."

He said, "Oh, God. Is this one of those Jerry Springer-like questions where

you empathetically ask me about my love life?"

She smiled, then hesitated. "Well, not really, but sort of. What's going on

with you and Mulder? You had said initially that you weren't ready for

another commitment. You also said that there was something between Mulder and

myself that you wouldn't interfere with."

Angel had the grace to blush. "I still don't intend to ruin what you two

have, but I'll have to admit that it has been getting more and more difficult

since I sort of...fell in love with him."

The two friends looked into each other's eyes; Scully, with shock, and Angel,

with a guilty happiness.

The subject of their discussion walked into the room at that moment,

hesitating only for a second before sitting down on the sofa. With his knees

wide apart and the un-injured arm stretched out along the back of the sofa

cushions, he appeared to be very relaxed. Studying the two friends through

his lashes, his eyes took on a sleepy, hooded look.

Scully and Angel found separate chairs in which to sit. They were both

beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable under Mulder's silent scrutiny.

"I've got some things to say to you both," he began, then asked, "Do you each

want the other to leave while I get into some personal matters?"

Angel shrugged his unconcern and Scully shook her head, motioning with her

hand to continue. They both were burning with curiosity.

With no further hesitation, Mulder turned his full attention toward Angel.

"I'm an insatiably curious person, Angel. Scully will tell you that I'll go

to great lengths to satisfy that curiosity, often getting into trouble because

of it." He paused, then went on, saying, "If you and I were to really start a

physical relationship, you would get hurt."

Angel looked startled that Mulder would have even considered the idea. He

opened his mouth to reply, but Mulder held up a quieting hand and said, "Let

me finish and then you two can take your shots. I like you a lot, Angel, but

any sex between us would only be to satisfy that raging curiosity of mine.

There wouldn't be any lasting love sworn or even pretended. Then I would get

back to my job and my obsessions, leaving you to find your own way to whatever

it is you want in life. But it wouldn't include me."

His honest and open gaze held Angel's stricken brown eyes for what seemed an

eternity. Then it was his partner's turn.

Hazel eyes seemed to draw her into their depths, and she felt apprehensive,

wondering what was coming. If the brutal truth he had given Angel was any

indication of what he had to say to her, she could hardly wait for the blow to

land.

"Scully...I've loved you for a very long time, although I've tried to hide it

from both you and myself." She blinked in surprise, that he would say this

now. "I think you have strong feelings for me, as well, but I don't know if

they can be called love. And I'm not pushing you to tell me."

Scully doubted that she could have said anything at all, she was so stunned.

Vaguely aware that Angel had gotten to his feet, she found that there was no

attention to spare for him; it was all riveted on her partner.

"We're at sort of a crossroads here, Scully. I may be going to prison for

what happened today, and/or lose my job, or maybe they'll let everything go

back to normal, where I can revert to being the self-centered jerk I've always

been. But I wanted you to know how I feel in case..." His voice trailed off.

Gazing into Mulder's sincere hazel eyes, Scully said in a strained voice,

"Angel, would you leave us alone for a little while?"

As the front door closed signaling that they were alone, Scully got to her

feet and moved over to stand in front of Mulder. This gave her the height

advantage, but also managed to place her between his legs. The awkwardness of

her position wasn't lost on either one of them.

"How dare you?" she demanded. Mulder looked startled. "You should have

simply taken him aside in private for that little revelation. To tell Angel

something like that, with me as an audience, had to have embarrassed him to

death, not to mention the damage you probably did to the heart he had bared to

you. So you have everything all figured out, Agent Mulder, and to hell with

anyone else's input, opinions or feelings."

She was getting pissed off enough to tell him how she really felt despite that

pitiful hurt look on his face. Well, he started it.

"By the way, I love you, too." There, she had finally said it, and the look

on his face was priceless. He slowly closed his eyes as his mouth relaxed

into a happy, relieved smile. But she wasn't done with him yet.

"And yes, you're a selfish bastard; you got that part right." She could see

that the remark had hit a tender spot. Good. She decided to move on to the

Culverson case and then get back to carving a chunk out of his hide later.

"I don't think you'll be serving time, either; at least, not the prison kind.

They'll have Modell's file which documents that such a thing as mind control

can happen. They'll also have witnesses to how dangerous that woman was. And

in the case where someone seemed to 'walk through walls' and commit murders,

the prints found at the scenes will undoubtedly prove to be hers."

She paused and moved closer to him. Her knees were now touching the insides

of his thighs. The corner of his mouth twitched.

"You said something about loving me, Scully?" She noticed that his voice was

rougher and lower than normal.

She wanted to let go and simply love this man, but steeled herself and backed

off both mentally and physically. Ignoring his question, she sat down next to

him instead of obeying her body's demands.

"What brought all this out today?" she quietly asked.

Mulder's gaze told her that he knew what she was feeling and was willing to

wait for her to make a move. "I was convinced that the basis of Dr.

Culverson's abilities was a form of hypnosis. I didn't think that she

possessed any other exotic tricks up her sleeve. I still believe that she

found me at your apartment the old-fashioned way: She followed me when I left

the warehouse. But there was something strange...When she introduced one of

her 'scenarios' into my mind, there was a physical sensation associated with

it. Did you...?"

Scully shook her head. "No, I never felt any warning of what was coming.

What did it feel like?"

"A tickling in my brain is the best way I can describe it. Very faint, but

there. What's scaring me, Scully, is that ever since I had to kill her, I've

felt that tickling. It hasn't gone away."

"What do you think it means?"

He drew a deep breath and replied, "I think that she managed to implant a

post-hypnotic suggestion in my mind, and I haven't got a clue as to how or

when it might be triggered."

(Concluded in Part 4)

by Gerry Hill (fox42@ix.netcom.com)

Scully felt a chill go down her spine at Mulder's words.

"But when could she have done such a thing?" she asked him.

Despite her scientific approach to everything, Dana Scully had come a long way

from when she first began working with "Spooky" Mulder. He was obscurely

gratified that she hadn't declared, "Mulder, you stupid ass! That's just a

crock of shit! There's no such thing as reading your fucking mind and doing

all the things you say she did." He knew she would never phrase it quite that

way to him, even though she could draw on quite a colorful vocabulary from

hanging around Navy brats as a child.

Then Scully ruined his delight with her afterthought.

"And more importantly, *how* could she have done half of what you're crediting

to her? I suppose you like Lassiter's 'mind-sucking alien' theory, right?"

Catching his eye, she backed off slightly with, "All right, but she isn't

Modell."

"Scully, you'll just have to trust me on this. She was in my mind, I know it.

And there's still something lurking in there, waiting to jump out at us. If

she picked up on any of our emotions while in our minds, she probably also

understood our vulnerabilities. We'll have to be prepared to recognize when

I'm seeing something that isn't really happening in order to stop me from

harming anyone."

"Is that why you're being obnoxious to Angel? Hurting him so he won't get

hurt?" Her voice was tinged with sarcasm.

He protested, "I was telling him the truth. But yeah, I was deliberately

heavy-handed about it."

There was a speculative look in her eyes. "You mean that you really would

sleep with him just out of curiosity?"

He looked at the floor with great interest. "Um, that's difficult to answer,

Scully. It would depend on the circumstances. If I were committed to someone

else, then the answer would be a definite 'no.'"

Pushing this as far as she dared, Scully asked, "And are you? Committed, I

mean?"

Clearly growing more uncomfortable, he finally looked her in the eyes and

replied challengingly, "I don't know. Are you ready to take that step with

me?"

Scully blinked at that. God, how she wished for the good old days of subtlety

and flirtation. This was putting it all on the line, dammit. Was she ready

for this? His direct and honest gaze was searing her soul, and she could see

he wasn't backing down any time soon.

She opened her mouth to reply, when she heard the front door open and turned

to see Angel come in. And right behind him were Detective Lassiter and AD

Skinner. They all looked decidedly uncomfortable.

Angel muttered something about having run into them at the curb as he was

returning, and then deferred to Skinner, who he judged was the most pissed off

in the group.

"Agent Mulder, get your coat. Detective Lassiter has a warrant for your

arrest. However, the Bureau is now involved with your case, which means we

should be able to get bail set and have you released later today."

Lassiter was obviously reluctant to arrest his friend. He tersely read him

his Miranda rights and then followed Mulder down the hall to keep him in sight

while he recovered his coat and put it on. The detective patted the coat down

first, and then checked to see that Mulder wasn't carrying any other weapons.

He raised his eyebrows at discovering the ankle holster and Baretta, but just

watched while they were removed and set down on the counter.

"Regulations call for handcuffs, Mulder," Lassiter commented.

That earned a wry smile. "So when were you ruled by the regulations, Joe?"

Lassiter looked offended. "Regs are my life, man. OK, OK. Forget the

frigging cuffs. Just don't try something and make me hurt you."

Mulder nodded, figuring that the detective, for all his joking around and his

friendship, wouldn't hesitate to bring him down if he ran. But then,

remembering Dr. Culverson's legacy to him, he said, "Better cuff me. I'll

explain later."

Detective Lassiter was dumbfounded by the request, but complied, saying,

"First time someone other than my girlfriend *asked* me to use the cuffs."

They walked back to the waiting group where Scully had been filling in all the

details for Skinner.

Mulder felt extremely self-conscious about the handcuffs when three pairs of

eyes went to his manacled wrists. Scully seemed about to say something, but

he caught her eye and gave her a slight shake of the head. She didn't appear

happy about it, but said nothing.

Skinner spoke up. "Agent Mulder, Detective...We'll be down to see you in a

while, after the booking process is over." He was looking his most officious,

but Mulder could see the concern in his eyes. That, or else it was irritation

at all the additional work he would be doing on behalf of his most troublesome

agent.

Angel appeared to be devastated by the situation; he was huddled at the end of

the sofa, looking at Mulder with anguish. Mulder gave him a wink and a smile,

which only caused Angel to feel worse about what was happening.

Scully's reactions were just...Scully. She had a determined look on her face,

which almost made Mulder sorry for the next official who dared to step in her

way. He could depend totally on her, he knew, and extended his smile into a

grin for her.

There were no words needed, and Detective Lassiter escorted him out of the

apartment.

Fourth Precinct Police Station

3:46 PM

Lassiter was apologetic when he dropped Mulder off to be booked, saying he

would return shortly to go over his previous statement and take any additional

testimony from him. He gave his friend an encouraging punch on the arm and

disappeared.

The booking sergeant was a little too pleased for Mulder's liking when faced

with the prospect of running an FBI agent through the humiliating process of

fingerprinting, photographing, stripping and body search, and finally securing

him in the holding cell. He was sneering at Mulder when he finally left him

in the less-than-sanitary room with two drunks.

At least he wasn't in there long, because Detective Lassiter showed up, true

to his word, and unlocked the door. The handcuffs went back on, but this time

in front; the detective wanted a cup of coffee and didn't want to drink alone.

Mulder released a breath in relief as he followed the detective out. One of

the drunks had been snoring in the corner the whole time, but the other had

shown a real interest in the new addition. He had been trying to pick a

fight, stopped to vomit as he leaned against the wall, then had gone back to

being obnoxious and confrontational.

"I hate to say it, Joe, but the cell mates and the accommodations in here

really suck," Mulder mildly complained as they walked across the bullpen

toward an interrogation room. He ruefully looked down at his one-piece orange

jumpsuit and added, "But the prison clothes are to die for."

"That's why I put you in there, Mulder. Lends a little class to the place."

Mulder was distracted from making a reply as he saw Angel and Scully enter the

front of the bullpen, looking around for someone.

Then what he had dreaded finally happened.

One of the detectives in the bullpen called to his buddy across the room, in

an ongoing friendly argument, "That's bullshit! Ahh, up yours! Hey, wanna

picture of your sister naked?"

Later, they figured out that Culverson must have picked up information on

Samantha when she visited Mulder's mind, and had subsequently used the word

"sister" as a trigger word, figuring that it would eventually come up.

The effect was immediate. Mulder suddenly saw everyone in the room as "them"

and he was being held against his will. His mind was telling him to escape or

they would kill him.

Mulder turned suddenly and slammed the detective up against a wall with his

whole body weight behind the shove. It was a partition wall and the sheet

rock cracked with the impact. The crack widened when Mulder took the stunned

detective's head in his hands and slammed it against the already damaged

surface. Letting the half-conscious man slide to the floor, the delusional

agent turned with Lassiter's weapon precariously held in his cuffed hands,

yelling, "I'm leaving, so stay out of my way!" He fired a shot to emphasize

his point, aiming for and hitting a stack of boxes full of files.

Accustomed to all the noise in the room, most of the inhabitants hadn't

noticed the attack on Detective Lassiter, but the shot got everyone's

attention.

Angel and Scully were standing over to Mulder's right, only fifteen feet away,

but it might as well have been a hundred given the crowded room. They both

began maneuvering around a desk, trying to reach their friend. But seeing the

movement from the corner of his eye, Mulder started to turn in their

direction.

Lassiter, fighting the blackness that wanted to overwhelm him, had seen Angel

and Scully moving their way and had grabbed Mulder's leg in order to distract

him. He felt the muscles jump under his hand and then the agent was looking

down at him with a strangely detached expression.

"Mulder! This isn't real. You have to shut out the images you think are

there and pull yourself back. You're with me in the Fourth Precinct. No one

is going to hurt you."

No glimmer of understanding was evident in the agent's eyes. To Lassiter's

horror, he saw that Mulder was bringing the gun around to aim it at the

detective's head.

A scream distracted Mulder suddenly, breaking his concentration. He looked up

and saw a more immediate threat than the guy on the floor at his feet.

Someone was shouting and running straight at him. He drew a quick bead and

fired.

The instant he pulled the trigger past the point of no return, his mind

snapped back into reality. In that second of clarity after the gun discharged

and the bullet hit its target, stark terror engulfed him as he saw that his

target was his partner.

Angel had slammed into Scully a fraction of a second before the bullet reached

her. The .38 round hit Angel high in the shoulder, passed through muscle,

exited at half velocity and nicked Scully's collar bone on its way to a wall.

Angel's tackle carried them gracelessly to the floor. Lassiter's gun also

hit the floor as it fell unheeded from Mulder's nerveless fingers.

Everyone was frozen for a moment, and then two officers attempted to take

Mulder back into custody. He fought them off, so three more joined the fray,

trying to subdue this handcuffed madman. Mulder fought and kicked and bit to

get free, screaming, "Scully!"

Although aware that Angel had moved into the line of fire at the last instant,

Mulder hadn't seen the result of his action. He knew that Scully or Angel

could very well be dead. He was close to losing his sanity. My god, if I've

killed her...his thoughts were ripping him apart. With someone sitting on his

legs, someone else lying across his chest, and with a shoulder dislocated

during the fray, he tearfully whispered, "Please. Please tell me. Did I kill

her? Is she hurt? Please."

Suffocated by despair, his vision was suddenly filled with the most precious

sight in the world: His red-headed partner, impatiently demanding that his

captors "Get off him. Now!" And he could breathe again.

Scully exhibited her FBI badge, but it was her authoritative attitude which

accomplished his semi-release. They removed the handcuffs when she pointed

out his obvious pain from the dislocated shoulder. One look at his pinched,

graying complexion told Scully that his injury needed immediate care.

Enlisting the aid of the two strongest-looking cops, they managed to pop the

shoulder back in place. Mulder fainted at that point.

During this time the professional training of the precinct station's

inhabitants had kicked into gear. Someone had called for an ambulance, and in

the following twenty minutes, someone else bagged Lassiter's gun, photographs

of the area were taken, and the incident was generally over-analyzed by way

too many officials on the scene.

Scully was able to check on Angel and Lassiter, noting with relief that they

would be all right. Lassiter might have a mild concussion, and Angel needed

care for the bullet hole in his shoulder. Finding a large gauze bandage in a

first aid kit, she pressed it against the bullet wound to help slow down the

bleeding. Her own wound was no more than a scratch. At the arrival of the

ambulance, she left the technicians to care for her friends and resigned

herself to making more statements to the seemingly endless number of police

officials demanding answers.

Five days later

Scully's Apartment

2:09 PM

Glancing around the room, Scully realized that it looked as if she had decided

to work at a second job by turning her living room into a clinic. Angel's

shoulder was bandaged and his arm was in a sling to hold it immobile. Mulder

didn't appear to be wounded, but winced when he sat down in a chair. The

movement had irritated his sore shoulder and the denim over his knees had

pulled tight over the scabs. Joe Lassiter had a good-sized bandage on one

side of his head, with his left arm in a cast and a sling.

It had been a long five days, Scully was thinking, as she took a couple of

aspirin in the relative privacy of her kitchen. Mulder *had* to flip out in a

*police station*, didn't he? she was thinking. He couldn't have picked a nice

remote park somewhere. No, not him. And then to assault a detective right in

front of all his buddies...It was almost worse than his shooting Culverson

earlier.

They had insisted on a psych evaluation, naturally. And the Bureau's lawyers

were obviously reluctant to take on "Spooky" Mulder's case, having had run-ins

with him before. But after all the evidence and testimony had been gathered,

they efficiently did their job, finally winning a release for her partner. He

wasn't cleared yet, however. Next week a judge would be making the decision

as to whether there was a case or not, and whether Mulder would be prosecuted.

Things were looking better, though, once Detective Lassiter had recovered

enough from his concussion to make a statement. He wasn't pressing charges

for the assault, under the circumstances; in fact, he made a great case for

Mulder as a character witness. Neither Angel nor Scully were pressing

charges, either, but they both were teasing Mulder that one wrong move on his

part would change their decision.

Their normally tight-ass boss, AD Skinner, had continued to show surprisingly

strong support for his agents, backing them up against everyone, even the

Director at one point. They kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, to find

themselves doing wiretap detail for the rest of their careers.

As she turned to go back into the living room, she heard Lassiter asking

Mulder, "But how do you know it's over? What if there's more of that shit

buried in your brain?"

The familiar voice of her partner answered, "I'm sure everything's back to

normal. Culverson's influence is gone for good. Of course, that doesn't mean

I won't decide to beat up on you again, Joe, just for the hell of it."

Scully smiled as she entered the room, seeing that her presence had

forestalled Joe's no doubt blasphemous response.

Angel scooted over on the sofa slightly to make room for her, and she

gratefully sat down, giving his good arm a pat. He planned to fly back home

that evening, but would return if the judge wanted him there for next week's

hearing. Scully hated to see him leave. They hadn't really had much

opportunity to visit with each other, given all that had been going on this

past week. She and Angel had always had a comfortable friendship and she

dreaded his imminent departure.

She caught Mulder's speculative eye. He was no doubt seeing a very handsome,

virile man sitting close to "his" Scully, probably wondering if Angel were bi-

sexual. Damn, she wished he didn't have such a one-track mind. After seeing

her with Angel on the sofa bed the other morning, no wonder he still had his

doubts. Maybe it *was* time to see whether she and Mulder could make a more

physical relationship work. She did her own speculative eyeing, causing

Mulder to fidget, then to surreptitiously glance down to see if his fly was

open.

Lassiter soon left, wanting to get home to his family. "Besides, Mulder,

associating with you isn't exactly going to speed my career along in the

department. And I'm still embarrassed that a wimp like you could take me down

so easily."

Mulder smirked at him, saying boastfully, "Any time you want another shot at

me, I'm ready."

"Yeah, right. I'll need binoculars five minutes after I hint at a re-match,

in order to be able to spot you running like hell down the road."

Once the detective had departed, Scully announced that she was going to make

some more iced tea and headed into the kitchen.

Angel said to Mulder, "Well, I'm going to pack a few things. I don't like to

leave everything until the last minute. It won't take long, though, since I

didn't bring much with me." He awkwardly got to his feet and walked toward

the hallway.

"Need a hand?" Mulder offered, thinking that it was bad enough trying to pack

with two useable hands, much less with one.

"Sure," came the reply as Angel disappeared into the hall.

Mulder came steaming around the corner a few seconds later, and ran solidly

into Angel.

"Oof!" came out of Mulder, as he grabbed the man to keep from falling. It had

been like running into a huge punching bag. That man is *solid*, he thought.

To his surprise, Angel didn't move away or continue down the hall. In fact,

he had his good arm around the agent's shoulders in a vise-like grip. Their

faces were inches apart in the dimness of the hall.

Angel whispered, "I didn't instigate this, but now that we're here, I have to

do this or I'll regret it all my life." Mulder made no move or sound, seeming

to be transfixed by the situation, which was taken by Angel as permission to

proceed.

And he finally captured those delicious lips with his. They had been driving

him mad since he had first seen them. Mulder's eyes had widened with alarm,

but he didn't struggle, Angel noticed. Interesting. On the other hand, he

didn't move or respond in any way, either.

The ceiling light flared into brightness as Scully entered the hall, saying,

"Where on earth did..."

Unable to do anything but stare at her two friends in a lip lock, now hastily

broken, she finally found her voice and said, "Oh."

Mulder's face was flushed and he wouldn't make eye contact with her. He

quickly brushed past Scully, on his way to the living room.

Angel looked like the cat that had eaten the canary. He was leaning against

the wall with a lazy smile on his face.

"I had to know what he was like, Dana. That's all. I'll be good now and get

packed. Mulder is all yours." Angel stood up straight and went to Dana's

room for his bag.

Still taken aback at what she had seen, Scully returned to the living room.

Mulder was standing in the middle of the room, and he turned toward her at the

sound of her footsteps.

"You bastard!" Scully hotly declared. "One minute you're pushing me to change

everything by committing to you, and the next, you're making out with a guy.

Really smooth, Mulder." Tears welled up despite her efforts to hold

everything inside.

His hand reached out to her as he said, "I'm sorry if what you saw hurt you,

but it didn't mean anything. Angel was being impetuous and I didn't expect

it."

She backed up slightly, avoiding his hand, and the answering flare of pain and

anger was clearly visible in his darkening hazel eyes. He made a dismissive

gesture and turned toward the front door as if to leave.

"Do you really love me?" The quiet, wistful voice stopped him dead in his

tracks.

Without turning, he answered, "Yes. But that doesn't mean I can't get pissed

off at you."

"The sentiment is mutual, believe me."

He turned to her again, clearly not sure about where she was going with this.

"What? The love part or the pissed off part?" His eyes had that slightly

amused sparkle to them.

Scully's eyes blazed at him as she asked, "Are you interested in men?"

"God, no! I used to wonder about what it might be like, but after Angel, um,

kissed me, I knew without a doubt that it wasn't for me. My damned curiosity

has just been satisfied."

"Good." She moved closer to him and placed a hand on his chest. Holding his

gaze with her own, she said what Mulder had longed to hear for a very long

time.

"I'd like our relationship to be closer, Mulder."

Fighting the urge to grab this beautiful woman and make mad, passionate love

to her, feeling that it would frighten her off at this stage, he said in a

voice that quavered slightly, "Closer, as in intimate?"

In answer, she stood on tiptoes, brushing her lips against his neck, igniting

an electrical charge through his body from the point of contact.

"Scully," he sighed. Gathering her in his arms, Mulder gently kissed her full

lips for the first time, and found it to be incredibly arousing. To his

surprise, she returned the kiss aggressively, her tongue pushing against his

mouth for entrance. He thought she would be tentative, but he should have

known that once Scully had decided on a course, there were no half measures.

"Ahem." They jumped apart, startled at the reminder that someone else was

present in the apartment.

Angel was smiling and had his bag and jacket with him.

"I'm taking a taxi to Walt Skinner's. He told me that I could catch a ride to

the airport with him in a few hours since he had to go out in that direction

anyway. I'm going over there for a drink first. You were invited, too, but

from the looks of things, I doubt you want to leave right now."

"*Walt* Skinner's?" they both asked in unison.

"Yeah. He's a nice guy. We got to talking in the hospital and we have a lot

in common. Why?"

Mulder just shook his head, with an amazed look on his face, while Scully's

eyebrows spoke volumes. Then she walked up to Angel and gave him a hug.

"I'll miss you. When we get back to the office I'm going to try and find

something paranormal going on in the San Antonio area so we can investigate

it. Be prepared to show us around your clinic." She smiled fondly at him.

Mulder settled for shaking his hand, looking like a skittish colt ready to

shy away at the slightest move from the man.

Angel prolonged the handshake, increasing Mulder's unease.

"It's awfully hard for me to leave, now that I've found you. But I know how

*that* story would turn out, so I'll leave while I still have my dignity."

And he was gone.

"C'mon Mulder," Scully said, as she took his hand. "You've never shown me

your Alien

Invader, and I've heard that it's quite impressive."

Looking shocked, Mulder exclaimed, "Scully! I'm surprised at you! And

besides, where would you have heard something like that?" He fought to keep a

straight face.

"I have my sources, G-Man."

Thinking of his relative celibacy over the past year, he suspected that she

had peeked at some point during their travels or when he was injured and

unconscious.

He saw that the pause had given her time to think, and he didn't like the

slight nervousness displayed by her fidgeting. She might decide against all

this...

Hoping it wasn't a wrong move, Mulder took her hand and solemnly led her into

the bedroom. They stood by the bed, but she wouldn't look at him. Again

making the first move, he tilted her head with a finger under her chin and

lowered his lips to hers. There was that surge of feeling as they connected,

and soon they were lost in the sensations.

With a lot of stroking and kissing, they slowly undressed each other, until

they were completely nude. Mulder felt like a real shit when he saw the black

and blue area on her collarbone caused by his bullet and kissed it thoroughly.

When Scully pulled back for a moment, she startled her partner when she

laughed out loud and said, "Oh, my God, Mulder! It's true!" He saw that she

was staring at his bobbing erection, and smirked.

With one swift move, he swept Scully up and landed on the bed with her in his

arms. Then she sort of took over, nuzzling, kissing and licking his body,

driving him mad.

Finally, he managed to say to the top of her head, "If you keep...doing

that...ah!...blast-off is...going to happen...*really* soon...mmmm!! Come

here!"

Scully complied, pulling the sheet over them as she moved up his body. Sounds

came from beneath the sheet, then a moan was heard from a female throat,

followed by a deeper moan from her partner. The sheet became quite active as

the moans were repeated with growing intensity, punctuated with a few "Oh, my

Gods!"

Some while later, Scully's voice sleepily commented, "Remember, now, Mulder.

This was a one-time-only thing, to relieve tension and our curiosity."

A muffled "What!??"sounded from somewhere under the sheet, and Mulder's head

popped out to stare at his bed-mate, his hair standing out every which-way

from his head.

"Just kidding," she snickered. This was answered with a growl, and they went

back to what they were doing with undiminished enthusiasm.

THE END