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LA VÉRITÉ NOUS SAUVERA  

La Vérité Nous Sauvera (The Truth Will Save Us)
By Char Chaffin and Tess
Prologue  1    2    3    4    5    6    7    8    9    Epilogue    Text Only

Chapter Six

San Diego, California
Java Net Café
Friday 2:18 PM

Scully pushed the passenger door closed and walked around the car to join Mulder on the sidewalk. She squinted against the sun and surreptitiously rubbed her fingers against her forehead.

"How's the headache?" he asked as they walked. She opened her mouth to brush off his concerns but stopped when he abruptly wrapped a bruising hand around her arm.

"Ow! Mulder!" She looked up to see both panic and caution in his eyes. She blew out a frustrated breath. She couldn't think of any science to back up Mulder's theory that the telling of a lie was the trigger in the deaths, but she had promised him that she would be careful. Until today, she'd had no idea how many tiny, seemingly insignificant fibs or half-truths tripped off her tongue with ease every day.

"I'll be happy to get back to our room and collapse into bed," she admitted. It wasn't really a direct answer to his question, but it wasn't a lie, either. A ghost of a smile flitted across his face in acknowledgment of her deft handling of his question. The faint smudges beneath her eyes were proof of her claim of tiredness as well as an answer to whether or not her headache had abated. His grip lightened and his hand slid down to clasp hers briefly before holding the door open for her to precede him into the Java Net Café.

"In my day," Mulder leaned over Scully's shoulder and spoke directly into her ear, "the kids used to hang out in video arcades, playing Pac-Man and swilling sodas."

Scully huffed out a quiet laugh and looked around the busy café. One end of the shop housed a coffee bar. Three clerks bustled behind the bar pouring exotically named coffees into paper and plastic cups bearing the green and yellow Java Net logo. The hissing of steaming milk warred with the whirring sounds made as a clerk ground fresh coffee beans for a waiting customer. Mouth-watering baked goods in
gleaming glass display cases tempted all to abandon their diets. Overstuffed furniture was scattered about to create a cozy and inviting environment for customers who were engaged in quiet conversations or catching up on their reading.

The other side of the café was an entirely different world. Dozens of computer monitors stood on gleaming metal workstations. Two pre-teen girls giggled as they swapped instant messages with unseen friends. Several college-aged students had apparently abandoned their dorms and personal computers, choosing instead to do their research in a more communal setting. A harried looking mother glanced at her watch, tapped her young son on his shoulder and held up three fingers to remind him that he only had a few minutes left to devote to the game he was playing.

Scully watched two teenagers battling alien invaders for supremacy of the earth on a monitor near the windows that were tinted against the sun. When a blinding flash of light exploded on the screen, the two young men howled and threw themselves against the backs of their chairs, tossing down their game controls. Apparently round one went to the alien forces.

Scully tilted her head back to look up at Mulder. "They're still playing video games," she murmured. Her eyes followed one of the teenagers as he worked his way across the store to the coffee bar for a refill. "They just prefer their caffeine without the carbonation."

Mulder followed her gaze, briefly wondering how the kid's jeans riding so low on his hips managed to defy the laws of gravity and not plummet to the floor. He knew he sounded like an old man, but watching the teen saunter across the room with his boxers proudly on display to anyone who cared to look...

"Takes the expression 'be sure to wear clean underwear' to a whole new level, huh?"

Scully laughed again. "They're expensive, Mulder," she chided, eyeing the familiar logo of a high-end designer on the waistband of the youth's boxers. "You don't want to just cover them up."

Mulder arched one brow. "In that case, I'm gonna run out tomorrow and buy you half a dozen designer bras." He aimed a discreet glance at Scully's breasts and heaved a lusty sigh.

Scully stifled the retort that sprang to mind and settled for a classic eye roll. She tugged her lightweight jacket over her hips and followed the kid in the low-riders toward the counter. Mulder waited a beat or two before following her across the room, thoroughly enjoying the way the three-inch heels of her new boots lent a distinctive sway to her hips beneath the soft knit of her trousers. A slow smile curved his lips and he made a mental note to buy that designer lingerie, content with the knowledge that he would be the only one invited to the fashion show.

By the time they reached the counter, he had schooled his features into the more serious and much practiced persona of a government agent.

"What can I get you?" The freckle-faced blonde behind the counter looked up at them with an expectant smile on her face.

"We'd like to speak with the manager," Scully requested politely.

The girl shrugged and looked toward the far end of the counter. "That's him, there," she pointed. She raised her voice. "Warren, these people want to speak with you." The young black man working the cash register glanced up and nodded.

"I'll be with you in a moment," he promised before turning back to the customers he was helping. He handed one woman several bills in change while her companion scribbled something into a book lying open on the counter. Warren signaled for one of the clerks to take over at the register and walked to meet Mulder and Scully.

"What can I do for you folks?" His expansive smile dimmed when they discreetly laid their badges onto the countertop.

"I'm Agent Fox Mulder. This is my partner, Agent Dana Scully of the FBI. Do you have an office or someplace we can speak privately?" Mulder asked in a low voice. Warren looked up and his brown eyes reflected the confusion and worry that even the most innocent of people feels when confronted with silver badges in faux leather
wallets.

Scully's smile was soft and encouraging. "Everything is okay," she assured him. "We just need to ask you a few questions." Warren warily beckoned them to follow as he led the way to a grouping of comfortable chairs tucked into an otherwise empty corner of the store.

"We just received a delivery of supplies today," he explained. "The office is jammed with unpacked boxes. I hope this is okay." He waited until the two agents were settled into their chairs. "Can I get you anything? Coffee?" They shook their heads and Warren sank into his chair.

"How can I help you?"

Mulder pulled a photograph from the inside pocket of his jacket. "Do you recognize this woman?"

Warren studied the photo carefully and nodded. "Yes. I've seen her here. Has she done something wrong?"

Scully pulled several sheets of paper from her leather tote. "Her name is Brenda Jordan," she told the young manager. "We're investigating her death and the deaths of two other women." She consulted the papers in her hands. "We acquired copies of Mrs. Jordan's credit card records and found out that she had made several visits to this café in the days and weeks before her death."

The confusion evident on his face, Warren shook his head. "You don't think someone here had anything to do with..." A look of horror widened his eyes.

"No." Mulder leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. "It's routine. We're trying to piece together Mrs. Jordan's movements during the last days of her life. What can you tell us about her?"

Warren relaxed and bent forward, unconsciously mimicking Mulder's pose. He glanced down at the photo again and shrugged. "Not much," he admitted. "She came in here four, maybe five nights while I was working. Usually got here after ten o'clock."

He handed the photo back to Mulder and glanced towards the lively scene on the other side of the store. "The older folks like to get here after the kids have gone home and things quiet down."

Mulder bit his lip and hurriedly glanced down; Scully pasted a polite and encouraging smile on her face while she struggled not to take offense. Brenda Jordan had only been a few years older than she. "She would get a small latte and pay for her computer time," Warren continued. "She was quiet. Spent a lot of time glancing around to be sure no one was watching what she was doing."

"Did her behavior strike you as odd?" Mulder asked.

Warren let out a jaded laugh "Nah. A lot of people come here because they don't want anyone at home to know what sites they're surfing. We get our fair share of twitchy, nervous types."

"Is there any way we could trace Mrs. Jordan's activities while she was on-line?" Scully wondered.

Warren's forehead creased. "Listen... I'm just the manager here. I don't know
that I have the authority to give out that kind of information on our customers. Don't you need a warrant or something?"

Scully stifled a sigh. "Mrs. Jordan's husband is cooperating with our investigation. He provided us with his wife's credit card statements, which led us to your store." She noted that Warren still looked worried. "Tell us what would make you more comfortable in helping us."

Warren pushed himself to his feet. "Let me call my boss."

Mulder and Scully exchanged long-suffering looks and watched the young man walk to his office. Ten minutes passed before Warren reappeared. "My boss - Mr. Janowski - is on his way. He should be here in about an hour," he explained.

"Are you sure I can't get you anything while you wait? It's on the house."

Java Net Café
Friday 3:32 PM

They whiled away the time sipping their drinks and quietly reviewing the other transactions on Brenda Jordan's credit card statements which consisted of a dozen or so average purchases of gasoline, groceries and clothing. In comparing the last month's statement to several preceding, the only transactions that appeared out of the ordinary were those of her recent patronage of the Java Net café.

"Agents?" A trio of shadows fell over them and they looked up to find Warren standing nearby with two other men.

"Agents Mulder and Scully - this is the owner of the store, David Janowski." They stood and greeted the man with the friendly smile and worried eyes.

"This is my attorney, Bob Dunn." He swept a hand toward the third man. Once the introductions and handshakes had been dispensed with, everyone sat down again.

Scully noticed the subtle shifting of Mulder's legs which was an indication that he was growing impatient, but a quick glance at his face showed a mask of interested patience.

"I asked Bob to accompany me because I want to make sure that my business and I are covered - legally speaking - before we release any information." He stretched his legs out and settled his hands comfortably over his stomach. Mulder and Scully dutifully turned their attention to the lawyer, explaining again that Marv Jordan was cooperating in their investigation and that no one at Java Net Café was under any scrutiny.

"As we told Warren, we're simply trying to track Mrs. Jordan's movements in the time leading up to her death," Scully said pleasantly. "As a matter of routine, we review the credit card statements of a person whose death is suspicious," she explained. "Mrs. Jordan's credit card statements indicate that she only recently began to frequent your store."

"We interview people who knew or interacted with the deceased," Mulder picked up the narrative. "Family, friends, co-workers. In Mrs. Jordan's case, we're looking to find out if she had established any relationships - business or personal - over the Internet." He shrugged and glanced at the three men seated across from him. "That's where you, hopefully, will be able to help us."

Janowski glanced at his attorney with a questioning look. Bob Dunn pursed his lips and thought quietly for a moment about what he had just been told. "You don't sign any confidentiality agreements with your clientele," he mused aloud. "As a matter-of-fact, you don't enter into any contract with them at all." He nodded. "Of course, we want to cooperate with the FBI. What do you need?"

"Thank you," Scully murmured. "We need access to the websites that Brenda Jordan visited when she was here."

David Janowski looked at his employee. "Warren, is that something we can do?" The young man nodded.

"We'll need to use the office. I can't access the server from any of the public terminals."

A few minutes later the five of them had picked their way through the boxes of supplies lining the hallway and office located behind the coffee bar. Warren was seated in the chair behind the desk. He booted up the computer and picked up the phone.

"Lisa. Would you bring me the log books for the last two months?" He hung up the phone and glanced at the group surrounding him. "Our customers pre-pay for their computer time," he explained. "They sign in and out of a log book that we keep at the cash register." The door to the office opened and the blonde-haired girl from the coffee bar walked in with two books.

"Here you go, Warren." She handed the books to him and looked curiously around the assembled group. "How are you, Mr. J?"

Her boss smiled. "I'm well, Lisa. Thanks. Do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Can you handle running things out front? Warren's going to be tied up with us for a little while."

"No problem."

"Thanks, Lisa."

She pulled the door closed behind her and everyone returned their attention to Warren.

"Tell me, Warren," Mulder asked. "How does this work? I assume that the history trail is wiped clean each time a customer ends their session and logs off the computer?"

"Right. Each customer is assigned a user identification number. They use their ID number every time they log on, along with a password of their choosing.

"But you can access the history from this computer?" Scully crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against a filing cabinet. "No. The server will only tell us when she logged in and what terminal she was working at on any given visit. Then we'll have to go out there," he jutted his chin toward the door, "and pull the information from the individual machines she was using." Warren entered his own user identification numbers and password into the computer. "The customers don't have access to the server, but we do from this computer."

He flipped open one of the log books. "We do basic maintenance on the computers twice a month - you know, wipe the temporary Internet files and history, clear out the caches, defrag the hard drives, stuff like that," he explained. "If you can tell me what dates she was here, I can pinpoint what time she came and left."

Mulder leaned over Scully's shoulder as they consulted the printouts of Brenda Jordan's credit card statements. "It looks like October 12th was the first time she came in," Mulder said. "She was back about a few days later on the 16th. Then she was here again on the 21st, 23rd and 24th." Warren grabbed a pen and scribbled the dates as Mulder read them aloud.

Scully flipped to the next page of the statement. "That's it," she told them. "There are no other entries, so she either never came back, or she paid cash for her computer time."

Warren ran a finger down the entries in the log for October 12th. "Ah, here she is." He tapped his finger on the page. "She signed in at 10:03 PM and then signed out at 11:18." He jotted the information down with one hand and rapidly turned the pages with the other. "October 16th... October 16th..." he muttered as he flipped through
the pages. "Okay, here we go. In at 9:53 and out again at 10:45."

He searched the log book until he had all of the log entries for the five dates in question and then flipped through a calendar on his desk. He spun back to the computer and the others waited quietly as his fingers flew over the keyboard and an inexplicable series of prompts and commands flashed on the monitor.

"We lucked out that she used the same computer every time she stopped in," Warren pushed his chair away from the desk and stood. "Unfortunately, none of the information from her visit on the 12th will still be available." He jabbed a finger on the calendar. "We wiped the computers a couple of days after that. "Everything else
should still be there. Let's go see if anyone is using that unit now."

They drew curious looks from the customers as they trooped out of the office and gathered around one of the computers in the café. "Now what?" Bob Dunn asked.

"Now we find out what she was doing." Mulder braced his hands on the edge of the Workstation and watched Warren use the mouse and keyboard to pull the information they were looking for. The cursor zoomed over the monitor. Warren's finger clicked madly on the mouse as he moved from one screen to the next. He jumped from the history folder to the temporary Internet file folder, highlighting various files, always moving on faster than any of the others could follow. Scully opened her mouth to ask him to slow down a bit.

"Uh, Warren, could you maybe slow..."

The young man lifted one hand from the keyboard to hold her off even while the other continued to masterfully manipulate the mouse. In less than twenty minutes time, Mulder and Scully held pages of information still warm from the printer.

"Damn, he's good!" Bob Dunn exclaimed.

Mulder looked up from the papers in his hands. "Kid deserves a raise!" He and Warren exchanged a grin.

"Do you need anything else?" Warren asked.

Scully shook her head. "Not at the moment, but if we need your expertise, may we give you a call?"

Warren looked to his boss who nodded his approval.

"Sure," he said. "I'd be happy to help."


San Diego, California
Days Inn, Balboa Park
Friday, 6:20 PM

While Mulder was out getting their dinner, Scully was back in their hotel room going over the information they had brought back from the café. She shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position as she sat at the small desk. She briefly considered settling onto the bed with her laptop, but she feared she would succumb to the lure of taking a nap. She pulled off her glasses and rubbed her fingers under her eyes. Arching her back against the uncomfortable chair, she raised her arms over her head, indulging in a long, satisfying stretch. She was tired. What she needed was a hot shower. Scully glanced toward the bathroom and considered taking a break before shaking herself back to reality. She peered at the papers spread over the desk and typed a URL into the browser window on her laptop.

"www.customcurses.com," Scully murmured. It was true, she thought as she watched the page slowly load. You really could find absolutely anything on the Internet. Brenda Johnson had been visiting some very interesting web sites before her death. Mulder would love this, she thought. She glanced at her watch and noted that he would be returning with the food at any moment. She used her forefinger to
toggle the cursor control on the keyboard and with great fascination began reading what appeared to be a menu of spells, hexes and curses to be had for a fee - spells for love and luck; for weight loss; to protect and bless a home; to bring good health; spells for prosperity and wealth. Black magick - hexes to be cast upon the rival for a lover or break up a marriage. Curses to inflict pain on an enemy or
throw their lives into turmoil and chaos...

Engrossed in the wealth of information artfully displayed on the web page, she was distracted by the faintly annoying sound of a computerized version of 'Take Me Out to the Ballgame' playing. She fumbled about with one hand and pulled Mulder's cell phone from beneath the papers scattered over the desk.

"Scully," she said into the phone.

"I'm sorry, I was trying to reach Fox." Scully felt her hackles - and her blood pressure - rise at the sound of the other woman's voice.

"He's not here at the moment, Agent Fowley." Scully worked hard to match the older woman's falsely pleasant tone. "Is there something I can do to help you?" Her eyes fell back onto the computer screen and she idly clicked on something marked 'Curses for the Vain'. She bared her teeth in a feral smile as she imagined what the statuesque woman would look like if her hair fell out.

Scully allowed herself a second or two to wallow in the pleasurable fantasy before turning her attention back to the voice in her ear. "No, thank you." Diana's saccharine-sweet voice might fool Mulder... "He asked me to do some research for the case you're working on and I wanted to... well, just tell him I called. He knows the number," she purred.

Scully's eyes narrowed but before she could reply, the other woman had disconnected the call. Scully pushed her chair away from the desk and stood. Her hand clenched around the phone before she tossed it angrily onto one of the beds. She scrubbed her hand against her pant leg and growled softly under her breath.

"Who was that on the phone?"

Startled, she spun to find Mulder poised inside the open door of their room, a curious look on his face. He held two bottles of spring water in one hand and balanced a pizza box on the other. She had been so caught up in her reaction to Diana's call that she hadn't even heard him open the door.

She didn't want to give him Diana's message; she didn't want to even speak the other woman's name. She and Mulder were in a good place - a wonderful place in their relationship. Their conflicting opinions on Agent Diana Fowley, however, were a continual sore spot between them. She opened her mouth to brush off his question, to tell him that it had been no one - a wrong number, when his earlier words of caution rang in her head.

Instead, she told him the truth. "It was Agent Fowley." She took a deep breath and forced a note of studied calm into her voice. "She has the information that you apparently asked her to get." She could feel the angry flush stealing over her cheeks and she dropped back into her chair, studiously concentrating on the web page glowing softly on the laptop's screen.

Despite her best efforts, ice frosted her words. "She said you had her number. I'm sure she's waiting for your call."

Mulder set the pizza and the bottles of water down on top of the dresser. "I, um, asked her to do a little research." His voice was slightly conciliatory.

"Yes, I know." Scully continued to feign interest in the display on her computer screen. "She didn't see fit to leave the information with me, however, so you'll have to call her back."

"Didn't see fit to..." He frowned and shook his head. "Well, she probably felt that since I was the one who asked her in the first place, she'd need to talk to me personally. She knows I always answer my cell phone, and - what?" Mulder's brow knit in confusion as he observed her reaction. "You're looking at me strangely. What's wrong? You're not angry she called, are you?"

Scully glanced up. "I was just surprised that you thought we needed help from an outsider. I wasn't expecting her call." Her words belied the casually disinterested look she had adopted.

"Outsider?" Mulder sputtered. "Diana isn't an outsider. She's a good agent and could be a lot of help to us. I'm sorry I didn't mention I'd asked her for help, but then again, we don't exactly see eye to eye on Diana, do we?" he challenged.

"I'm really not in the mood to get into this tonight, Mulder. Let's just eat the pizza before it gets cold so we can get back to work." She rose from her seat.

Mulder stepped into her path. "No, I don't think so, Scully. I can tell Diana's call upset you, and I want to know why another agent collecting information that can only help us on this case, gives you this level of attitude." He planted his hands on his hips. "I think we need to talk about this. Now."

She wished she had kept her mouth shut. "Can't we just let this go? I'm tired. This entire trip to San Diego has been exhausting." She lifted her hands before her to imply that she was conceding defeat. "God only knows how we managed to solve any cases before Agent Fowley came back," she said sarcastically, "but if you think we need her help, then by all means, let's take her help. Why not?"

If he wasn't irritated before, he was now. "Jesus! You're just not willing to give Diana a break, are you?" He took a deep breath in an effort to dial down his temper. "Look, I know she rubbed you the wrong way right at the beginning, although I'm still not sure why. And I may be less than thrilled to see her teamed up with that pencil- neck Spender, but Diana is not the enemy. You don't know her the way I know her, Scully."

She was sick to death of hearing about how well Mulder knew the other woman. "Well, Mulder, although it's not unusual for us to hold differing viewpoints on any number of things, I'm willing to concede that you have a much more... intimate knowledge of Agent Fowley's, uh... character."

For a moment Mulder regarded her in bewilderment, then her words connected with him and he nodded knowingly. "Ahh. I see where this is going. You're resentful of Diana because I had a past association with her. Admit it. You're jealous." He was pushing. He had known from the moment the two women had laid eyes on each other that Scully had developed an instant disliking to Diana. But whenever the subject came up, she retreated behind the icy cool persona of Agent Scully. This was his chance to drag it out into the open and he was not going to let it slip away. He pushed down the niggling worry, that this wasn't the best of ideas, and added, "That's what this is. I could have asked another agent, an 'outsider', as you put it - I could have asked someone else to help out and you wouldn't have ruffled one feather, would you? But this is Diana Fowley, and so you can't see anything but green."

Scully rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. She hasn't earned my trust yet. Can we just leave it at that?" She had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of knowing that she was jealous of the older woman. She could barely acknowledge the fact to herself.

But Mulder wasn't going to back down. "No, we can't leave it at that. No fucking way!" He stepped closer. "I see this as yet another example of how you can't seem to handle any reference to Diana, any association. Jealousy, pure and simple. In this case, potentially damaging, because I think she could help us." His voice was chastising. "So, what do you want to do? Lose out on some vital information just because you don't like the fact that my ex-partner is hanging around enough to be of assistance?"

Scully ducked her head, seething at his patronizing tone. "Ex-partner!" she muttered. She shoved her fingers through her hair. "I don't trust her. You taught me that, remember, Mulder? Trust no one. I learned at the feet of the master." She needed to get out of this room before she did something - said something - she would regret.

Mulder moved back into her path, determined to clear the air. "You have no reason not to trust her, Scully. She has never done a thing to you. You chose to dislike and mistrust her from the first, based on nothing more than the fact of my past association with her. That's jealousy, with a capital "J"."

He took a step back and lifted his hands in supplication. He could see the angry flush blooming over Scully's cheeks. The situation was getting out of control. He softened his voice and tried to get Scully to understand.

"Look, I know Diana. I know her dedication and I know her loyalty. She means a lot... she has been there for me, in the past, before we met, back when I needed an anchor in my life."

But his efforts fell on deaf ears. "I have every reason not to trust her, Mulder." Now Scully stepped into his space. "You were so ready to blame me. You were furious with me when I was unable to provide OPR with the science you needed to prove that the virus I was infected with last summer was extraterrestrial." She shot him an
angry look when he tried to interrupt. "But you were very quick to forgive Agent Fowley when her report was less than supportive. You left me with Gibson to run off with her to the power plant. And even though you claim that you both saw an alien being, there was no mention of it in her report. And yet you continue to insist that
she's protecting you, protecting the work."

Scully's heart was pounding in her chest and she was having difficulty controlling her breathing. "You condemn me for not believing in something I didn't see, but you praise her when she lies in a report and hangs you out to dry. So, no. I don't trust her." She closed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "And I don't know you when she's around, Mulder."

"That's bullshit, Scully!" He wrapped his fingers around her biceps and hauled her against him. "I'm the same person I've always been, the same person you've always known." He gave her a tiny shake. "As far as my 'reasons' for going with Diana to the power plant instead of with you... maybe right about then, after what we'd been through in that frozen hell-hole, what I needed most was a more open mind, regardless of the outcome." Mulder dropped his hands from her arms and paced away from her. Suddenly it was vital he make her understand something he himself wasn't completely sure of...

"I've been as honest with you as I can be," he continued. "You know that. I'd like the same courtesy, Scully." He turned to her with a pleading look on his face. "I want this out in the open at last, so we can deal with it. If we have to keep it covered up, our relationship will never be solid."

Scully was beyond hearing the beseeching tone of his voice or the look of pained love on his face. "As honest as you can be? Meaning what? Is there a certain point at which you feel that it is okay to be less than honest with me?" She stalked across the room and poked a finger into his chest to emphasize her every word.

"You want honesty? Fine. You're right. Our relationship will never be solid until we get it all out. I don't like Agent Fowley. That doesn't surprise you." She stepped back. "Maybe this will. I don't like you when she's around because when she's around you're less than truthful."

Mulder paled, clenching his hands into fists. "I'm less than truthful. Is that so? You don't know shit from shinola as far as what you think I might be, when someone from my past is in my life." Her words cut him, and he reacted to them, all emotion and little reasoning.

He grated out, "All you can see is that a woman I used to be partnered with, someone I trusted the same way I trust you, has come back. Because I don't treat her with suspicion, treat her like shit, there's something wrong with me, that suddenly I'm less than worthy to be with you in any capacity." He exhaled harshly. "Jesus, Scully! Grow up! You think I'd act this way if someone from your professional past came back and you had some interaction with him? I'd like to think I'd handle myself with a modicum of maturity!"

Scully stared at him in astonishment. "Professional past? You're going to stick with that?" She huffed out a disbelieving laugh. "Okay. Well, I guess you're being as honest with me as you can be."

She narrowed her eyes and once again crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "Do you think I'm stupid? That I don't know? That I can't see the little looks between the two of you? That I didn't notice the nervousness you displayed when she and I first met? You and she share a bit more than a professional past, wouldn't you say?" Her expression challenged him to tell the truth.

But Mulder had no intention of making it easy for her; for once Scully was revealing some deep-rooted feelings and emotions, and he wanted to see where they led. "What nervousness? What are you trying to say, Scully? Or, rather, trying to ferret out?" He was well aware of what she wanted to know, but she was going to have to
come out and ask. He was tired of living in Scully's happy land of denial. "Why don't you for once just come out and ask what you think you need to know, so we can find a way to move on?"

Her mouth gaped open. "Oh my God! Now who's being childish?" Her laugh was bitter. Ugly. "I wonder what Agent Fowley would think if she knew that you were so reluctant to admit that you had once been her lover? Was she that forgettable? Or was it so special, so memorable that you have to hoard your memories to yourself?"

Oh, shit. He wasn't sure he was ready for this. And he was trying with little success to keep his anger in check, as he retorted, "What the FUCK does a past intimate relationship with a woman have to do with what you and I have, right now?" He didn't know how things had spun so far out of control, but there was no turning back now. "Do I ask you for details about your relationships? The past is just that -
past."

Fighting down his frustration, Mulder tried to make her understand. "Yeah, Diana and I were together, years ago. Yes, I cared for her, a great deal, as she cared for me. She wouldn't hurt me, Scully. Never." He pleaded with her to believe him, to trust his judgment. "We have a past between us and we've kept the friendship intact. If that's too much for you to handle - if you don't think your ego can handle it - if you think I am going to suddenly turn against Diana because my partner and lover is jealous and insecure... forget it!"

The pleading in his tone suddenly twisted into something else, and he was powerless to keep it in; he could feel it bubbling up inside. He locked eyes with Scully's. "We work this out, and we get past it, or we forget it. Because I am fucking tired of having to explain my past, to anyone! Including you." As those words left his mouth, Mulder bit down the urge to take them back, to beg her to help them find their way out of the rapidly-escalating scene they both seemed bent on creating.

Scully's breathing was as labored as if she had run for miles. She knew she was out of control and she didn't know how to get that control back. Didn't know if she wanted it back.

"None of the men I had relationships with in the past have plopped down between us, nor are they likely to." Her expression was incredulous. "You're being untruthful again, right here and now. You haven't kept your friendship intact," she mocked. "In fact, I'm willing to bet that you hadn't heard a peep out of her from the day she left until the day she magically reappeared in Spender's meeting last year." She heard the strident sound of her own voice and struggling for a moment's dignity, she took a deep breath.

"If I'm jealous and insecure it's because I've known from the moment I laid eyes on her that you were keeping something from me. Until that moment, I never thought you would lie to me, Mulder." Angry tears pooled in her eyes but she refused to let them fall. "If I'm jealous and insecure it's because I dislike the fact that you treat
ME with suspicion when she is around." She hid shaking hands behind her back. "If I'm jealous and insecure it's because I dislike the implication that because Agent Fowley readily believes, she is more worthy of your trust than I."

She gulped in a steadying breath, determined to get it all out. "I dislike being relegated to the backseat when she's around. I dislike being treated like the new kid on the block when I've been here for the last six years while she's been God only knows where," in spite of her efforts, she was ranting. "I dislike hearing about how she was your anchor when you needed one. I dislike hearing about her dedication and loyalty while you question mine." Her voice rose to a shout. "And I dislike the fact that you think I'm so petty that I would ask you to make a choice!" She spun away from him and blinked back tears. She'd be damned before she would let him see her cry.

Mulder drew back in shock - at her tone, at her words, at her interpretation of things. How could she misunderstand this way? He was incredulous. "You ARE asking me to make a choice! Can't you goddamn see that, Scully?" He scrubbed his hands over his face in disbelief. "And not only are you acting jealous and insecure when you have no reason to, but you're also expecting me to just forget a time in my past when I was semi-happy, almost normal." He grabbed her by the arm and whirled her around to face him.

"You wanna talk about fair? Yeah, let's talk fairness! Yes, I have memories of my time with Diana that I won't let go, because they meant something! The same as I have memories of you, that nobody can take away, or make me think are less than worthy." His face was mottled with anger. "You think if somebody came along and told me to forget what I have with you, that I'd just lie down and do it? I don't treat people that way, not the ones that in the past or present mean something to me!" He tightened his grip on her arm when she tried to pull away. She was going to hear what he had to say.

"Remember, Scully. I'm the Poster Boy for family dysfunction! When something decent happens to me, I tend to hang onto it for a while! So don't ask me to drop it, Scully, I can't, any more than I could drop you. If you think I could... if you feel I care so little for you that I could drop you - then you don't know me, not at all." His expression was sorrowful, that she could know him so little.

Scully's eyes narrowed. "I never asked you to give up your memories of your time with Agent Fowley. What I'll never understand is why you lied to me - YES!" she exclaimed when he shook his head in automatic denial. "You lied by omission," she accused. "Not only did you never mention to me once in the last six years that you had a partner when you discovered the X-Files, but you danced around your relationship with Agent Fowley when she reappeared. You and I weren't lovers then," she reminded him, "so why lie?" She drew a deep breath and yanked her arm free of his grasp.

"When you hammer the point home over and over that she is a believer and I am not, I can't help but question where your trust lies. You trust her. Fine! I get that. I don't trust her. Do you get that? Why is it when it comes to her, you are automatically right and I'm automatically wrong?" she wondered. "Why is there no room on this topic for my point of view?"

She walked away, putting distance between them, using the bed as a physical barrier. "I don't care to be compared to her as either your partner or your lover. It seems I don't measure up." Her glare was mocking. Contemptuous. "So no, I haven't asked you to make a choice. She glanced away and back, and this time the tears spilled over her lashes. "But sometimes... sometimes I could hate you for not making it on your own."

He couldn't see her tears through the red haze that clouded his vision; couldn't hear the sob in her voice through the roaring in his ears. The woman he adored, was learning to worship, feeling something akin to hate? For him? Jesus! Unacceptable!
Unbelievable... The pain her words caused him almost sent him physically reeling; it was all he could do to keep his feet and not double up with it.

Every muscle in his body clenched as he faced off with Scully, across the width of the bed and with anger and tears etching her cheeks. His voice rushed out in a thick growl, "NO. You don't. You DON'T hate me. I will NOT accept you thinking you hate me. You love me. I love you. I fucking love you more than goddamn LIFE, Scully!" His eyes had started to burn and sting; his avowal of love sounding more like a declaration of war.

His voice roughened with pain, he threw at her, "How many times have I proven my love to you? About the same number of times you've saved me? Remember that, 'Partner'? You save me and I save you. You own me. And I OWN you." He reached across the pitiful barrier of the bed and grasped at her, bringing her body onto the mattress, coming down next to her.

Panic, worry, fear and anger, desperation tearing at him, he found himself shouting. "I'm NOT going to let you try to squeeze out of a commitment between us, using your jealousy of Diana, you got that?" He used his weight to pin her to the mattress and wrapped his hands around her wrists, restraining her flailing arms, "I'm not giving either of us some sort of an out from our relationship. I'm not letting you pick another fucking fight, hoping you'll piss me off enough to turn from you and hit the road."

He held her wrists with one hand and curled the other around her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze. "It's NOT gonna happen! Say it," he demanded. "Say you love me, you trust me, SAY IT! You need me, the same way I need you. SAY IT!"

Her eyes spat at him with equal force as her words. "Fuck you. Get the hell off me, Mulder, before I do you some serious bodily damage." She squirmed beneath him, determined to ignore that need he expected her to admit to. And the more she squirmed, the more aroused she found herself... and suddenly Scully was tired of being the unflappable, sensible one. She was out of control, for the first time in many years - and she realized it felt good.

Damn good.

Something must have shown in her eyes, because Mulder gripped her tighter, for once not thinking about bruises. He dive-bombed her mouth, muttering against her lips, "I'm not letting you go. Not for something this goddamned unimportant." He took her mouth hard, deeply; in his frenzy to take he didn't realize she was kissing him back, just as hard. His tongue stabbed into her throat, his arms tightened, his legs twisted around hers. In the air the sound of their breathing grated, heavy and dense.

With a raw groan, Mulder released her wrists and pulled at her loose sweater, yanking the neckline down over one creamy shoulder, exposing her bra. His fingers tangled in the strap and managed to work it off, tearing the delicate lace in the process. Scully bit out an angry, "You tore my favorite bra, damn you!" Her fury was blurred by the way her back arched up into his face when he covered one hard
nipple with his teeth.

She sucked in a gasp. "Jesus!" Her hand grasped his hair, nails digging into his scalp, holding his head so tightly against her breast that her skin mashed his nose. Mulder pushed at her, enough to afford him a few fortifying breaths, hazel eyes blazing down into hers. Her blue glare burned up at him, just as bright and hot.

Mulder shoved a hand between their bodies and tugged at her jeans, opening them just enough to make room for the two fingers he used to pierce her. A sobbing moan escaped Scully's throat and her hips bucked up into his palm as he stroked her, deep inside where she was pulsing and wet.

They'd made love in tenderness and in mounting passion, in a kind of compassion and with overwhelming love. This was their first time making it in anger, in any kind of desperation - and it was fiery and violent and fast. It was wrong and yet, strangely right. Sometimes the thing you think you'd never want is just the thing you need, most of all...

She was shuddering under his hand, her stomach muscles rippling in reaction to the spear of his fingers. Eyes locked on each other, mouths open and gasping for air, they grasped and dove, bit and scraped at bared skin. Scully untangled a hand from Mulder's hair, pulling at his scalp, and raked it down his body until she could reach his swollen penis. When she wrapped her fingers around it in a greedy squeeze, he sucked in a cursing breath and pumped his hips on her palm. Her grip was too much, but there wasn't a way in Hell he'd make either of them stop, not now.

Not ever.

Mulder's anger had not diminished one bit during their passionate, silent exchange, and he knew hers hadn't, either. And he was afraid to speak, knowing that if he opened his mouth right now he might not be able to control what came out. Better to show her, better to feel the painful pleasure of her showing him. Scratch him, pull his hair, bite him, leave a mark on him... draw blood. It was better than the indifference she had strove to pile on him just a few minutes ago. H e'd rather bear her inflicted wounds than her silent frost - for heat and pain meant she felt, for him. If she didn't love him she wouldn't touch him, bite and kiss him... wouldn't run the hard clutch of her hand up and down his aching flesh, until he thought he'd go mad with the need to erupt.

Not this way, goddammit - he'd release it all, inside, where he could feel her hot, her wet, her need. Inside.

He groaned it in her ear, "Inside, Jesus, now, Scully, right now..."

Her nod against his throat was frantic; she released him with one last, hard tug, growling a breathless laugh when he hissed out a protest at the way she'd tweaked his sensitive skin. They both wriggled out of what was left of their clothes, and Mulder came down hard on her body, inanely glad when his weight whooshed all the air out of her lungs. His elation was short lived, however... for Scully easily slithered out from beneath him, pushed at him until he hit the mattress, face down - and clambered over his back.

"Oh, Christ! -"

Her mouth was everywhere at once, trailing wetly over his shoulders, nipping hard little bites straight down his spine, hands curling over his tight cheeks, tongue doing an eager dance in the wake of her relentless fingers. She bit him high on one hip and he groaned into the pillow; she spread her body atop his, wet center aligned precisely on the small of his back - and licked deep into one ear while her palms raced over any part of his body she could reach. She was killing him.

With one final burst of strength, Mulder shook her off, wincing when her teeth caught the tender cartilage above his lobe. He grabbed two fistfuls, hands filling themselves with Dana Scully, jerking her under him again, this time twisting his limbs around hers, blindly aiming for her heat, another hiss forcing its way out of his lungs
when his aim proved true and he thrust deep.

So wet, God... so unbelievably wet and sunstroke hot. Tight. Pulsing. Trembling, all around him, so damn good it was just too fucking good...

He rasped it into her mouth as he kissed her, as he drove into her. "Good, you feel so good, Scully, I love it, love you..."

She pressed both hands down on his hips, forcing him deeper; her legs now a tight coil around his chest, and her reply shattered him. "Doesn't change a thing, God, Mulder, I'm dying here, I hate this, love you, love you -"

Then words, however impassioned, became less than worthless, as they forged themselves together, pounding harder, moving faster, digging deeper. This was what mattered, at this moment the only clear truth. They might be at some kind of impasse, but they'd find a way around it. They might harbor resentment, buried deep for who knows how long... but they'd work it out, sometime later. It was their first full-blown fight and it had shaken them to their roots. Sex might not be the best answer, but for them it was the answer they needed. For Mulder the act of loving Scully this way had transcended the tender, had gone past supplication and jack-knifed all the way to primal. The animal in him was loving it, even as the more civilized human thought to cringe at his rough display. He shoved the human down and let the beast have full reign.

For Scully the way her body responded to her lover's new approach was a revelation. She was hurt, pissed off, furious with him - and so madly in love that all of the above didn't seem to matter a good goddamn, although she knew once it was over those feelings would come screaming back and she'd have to deal with them. Right now she was more determined to not only match his hard passion, but make a mark or two of her own, all over him. She sank her teeth into his shoulder and grinned around the chunk of flesh she held captive, as he swore aloud and buried a hand in her hair, trying to pull her teeth out of his skin. She also noticed his protest didn't stop him from cramming more of himself into her writhing body...

At this tenure and level of heat their coupling couldn't possibly last much longer, and when his muscles started to clench up, Mulder wasn't ready to stop or let go. Heart tripping madly inside his aching chest, he pressed his face to Scully's, harsh and uneven puffs of breath burning her ear. His fingers bruised the soft skin of her hips as he yanked her up higher, tighter; her answering scream of release clamped at him, tore at him - redeemed him. Mulder sent one more furious thrust her way, then the force of his own climax just about rendered him unconscious. He shuddered and pulsed, gasping, finally coming to rest in the arms of his woman, feeling those arms
encircle him weakly, smiling into her hair when the feather of her lips caught his jawline.

He wanted to tell her he loved her, endlessly. He wanted to whisper in her ear, moan to the heavens, of how much she meant to him, how he couldn't live without her, would die if this unsettlement between them lasted beyond the loving they'd just experienced.

And he wanted to put his hands on her shoulders, and shake her until she admitted to him those exact same sentiments. Shake her until she admitted she loved him the same way, believed in him, had never for one second even doubted her trust in him.

Then he wanted to do it all over again, kiss her until she melted, find himself hard, needy and ready, plunge inside, deep inside her heat, all over again... then come down from the amazing high, to rest in her arms, forever.

But he kept silent, only turning to face her in the rumpled bed, snuggling her close, his arms gentle around her soft body and his breathing steady in her ear.

Their feelings were still raw, as tender and aching as their bodies. The echo of the words they'd shouted at each other still floated in the air above their bed. A rough, passion-laden bout of sexual relief would not make it dissipate; they had to be realistic. Tomorrow the tension would be back. Tomorrow the doubts and worries would be back.

Tomorrow Mulder would feel even more guilt - that he'd in some way forced those words from her because subconsciously he just had to know - and she couldn't lie to him, could she? She couldn't lie. And he was a bastard, for even thinking that way, considering it. Part and parcel of what they'd have to work out, though... Tomorrow they'd deal with it. Both of them.

In his arms Scully was as silent as he - but her limbs rested against him, and her palm drifted over his chest in one tender sweep before it came to a stop, over his heart. Her breathing evened out to a solid slumber, and Mulder allowed himself to follow suit.

Somehow they'd start fixing it, tomorrow.

Continue to Chapter 7
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