Title:  To Love Somebody
By:  Tess and Char Chaffin
Category:  Mulder/Other, Mulder/Scully
Rating:  R to NC-17
Spoilers:  "Never Again", "Irresistible", "Gethsemane", "Redux I and
II", and other spots during season 4 and 5

Disclaimers:  Ours to play with, ours to love - not ours to profit
from!

Author's Notes:  At the end!
Feeback:  you know we'd adore it!
Tnv099@aol.com and char@chaffin.com

Summary:   In the midst of attempting to have a normal romance,
Mulder's escalating feelings for Scully, and her deteriorating health
due to her advancing cancer, make it impossible for him to commit...


~ Chapter Four ~

The knock on my door came just as I was finishing cramming my
dishwasher with several days' worth of dirty dishes.  I hadn't been
home very much and since my housecleaning skills always left a lot to 
be desired, the dishes were usually the last to receive my
grudging attention.  Drying my hands on a towel, I walked to the door
and smiled when I beheld Lilly framed in the doorway, a bottle of
wine in her hands.  I dropped a kiss on her upturned mouth and
ushered her inside, taking her sweater and laying it over the back of
a chair.  She handed me the bottle and smiled at me brightly.

"An apology for the last-minute visit, Fox - but I'm glad you're
home.  I've missed you these past couple of days."  I set the bottle
down on a small table near the door and curled my arms around her
waist, giving her a big hug.  She smelled so nice and felt good in my
arms.  Leaning back a little, I stared into her lovely face, and
wondered why, when it seemed to me I finally had all that I wanted -
I couldn't take it to the next level of commitment.  I had wanted
this for so long, and now it was within my grasp...

"I've missed you too, Lilly.  Come sit down.  I'll pour the wine and
we'll talk, okay?"  She nodded and perched on my sofa as I walked to
the kitchen and dug out a corkscrew, and then scrabbled in my
cupboards for wine glasses.  I was moving slowly, avoiding the re-
entry into my living room.  I knew what she wanted to talk about; I'd
known since her phone call, an hour ago.  It didn't take much of a
profiler to figure it out.  I'd been missing in action a lot lately,
even when we were together.  I knew with certainty that Lilly wanted
to know where she stood in my life.

Walking back onto the living room I set the glasses down and
wrestled with the bottle for a few minutes, finally working the cork
free and pouring some into both glasses.  I handed her one and we
drank in silence, with me waiting to hear what she had to say and
both dreading and looking forward to getting everything out in the
open.

"Fox... first of all I just want you to know that I am here for you,
no matter what - whenever you need a shoulder, I'm here.  I know this
has got to be so difficult for you - your best friend in the world
is so sick, and dying..."  

Fortunately for Lilly her eyes were lowered as she said that dreaded
word; she'd taken a quick swallow of wine right after she spoke and I
know she never saw what had to be one serious flare of anger in my
own eyes as I processed what she'd said.  My fingers clenched around
the glass; she didn't see that, either.  I fought to keep my temper,
knowing Lilly meant well.  She would never intentionally say
something to cause me such direct pain - it simply wasn't in her
nature.  She truly wanted to help me, I knew this.  And there wasn't
anything she could do for me because in my mind and in my heart
Scully was going to beat this.  She was going to live.  She had to
live; I would accept nothing less.  So I drank my wine and sighed
into my empty glass and turned to face Lilly on the sofa, choosing my
words very carefully.

"Lilly, thank you.  I know these past weeks haven't been easy for
you either.  I've been gone a lot and have been canceling dates left
and right.  I appreciate so much your understanding."  I reached out
my hand and clasped hers, twining my fingers around her palm as I
searched for the words I wanted to say.

"Dana Scully means a great deal to me, and I can't let this defeat
her.  I won't contemplate for a second her passing from my life.  She
would never give up on me, if the situations were reversed and I was
going through something like this.  I have to be there for her when
she needs me, Lilly."  For one tiny second I saw the smallest drop of
disappointment in her eyes.  And I wanted to say I hadn't seen it -
that Lilly couldn't be that selfish.  But as quickly as that thought
had streaked across my mind it dissipated.  Lilly couldn't help being
human, and I would probably react in much the same manner, had it
been me, trying to keep a relationship going.  

I tugged on Lilly's hand and pulled her into my arms, needing to
feel her vitality and her warmth.  Fighting Scully's battles with her
was emotionally exhausting.  I was so tired, but I needed to make
Lilly understand, and I had to re-affirm in some way my desire to
keep striving for that 'Joe Average' life.  I buried my face into
Lilly's soft hair, resolutely ignoring the small voice inside of me
that screamed aloud how healthy, and whole, and silky and firm and
rounded and real the woman in my arms felt, compared to... No!  I
would not go there.  I refused to go there.

It would break my heart to go there.

I raised my head and met Lilly's loving gaze for two brief seconds,
before covering her mouth with mine.  And I was suddenly ravenous,
for feminine warmth and tenderness; for the balm of comfort she could
offer; for the love I knew I needed yet wasn't quite ready to accept.
I let my lips and tongue soothe her immediate worries and allowed my
body to be led by its own primal need to seek the physical release it
craved.  I pressed her down into the sofa cushions, my hands stroking
her skin in wide, firm sweeps, trailing kisses over her cheeks and
down her neck.  When her pretty dress got in the way I removed it
carefully and draped it over the back of the sofa.  I slipped the
straps of her lacy bra down over shoulders scented with delicate
perfume and I kissed a path over each of her full breasts, thinking
how voluptuous Lilly was compared to Scully's tiny slenderness.  And
as soon as that thought crossed me I shook it off, more determined
than ever to submerge myself in my lover's tender embrace, and
concentrate only on her.

Our lovemaking was silent and intense and although her need for me
soaked into my consciousness in a way I could not return - not yet -
I gave her all of myself that I was capable of giving, at that
moment.  I responded to every broken moan that escaped her throat as
I made love to her with my hands and my body; as I cupped her hips
and opened her gently and gazed down into her half-closed eyes, I
moved against her, and within her eager heat.  I felt her legs close
around me as I thrust deeper, and when her moans became disjointed
vows of love, gasped into my ear as I shuddered and clenched inside
her... I told myself it was only the heat of the moment and that
Lilly had only meant she cared, each time she'd whispered, "Love you,
oh, Fox... love you."

Much later, in the tangled sheets of my bed, dozing off with Lilly
curled into my side, I told myself she hadn't realized what she'd
been saying - and I suppose thinking that way made it easier to
accept my hesitancy to commit - and to take that last small step.  

At least that's what I told myself.

*****************

A week of heaven.  Seven days of feeling like the luckiest woman on
the face of the earth - of being the envy of other women.  I suppose
I should have been satisfied with it - content.  It was far more than
a lot of people had; this I knew.  

It was a hundred times more than Dana Scully had.  And I did feel a
twinge of shame for thinking that way, I truly did.  It wasn't like
me to be unkind in thought.  I tried to tell myself I wouldn't
normally be so unkind, but there were extenuating circumstances.  For
the first time in my life I was in love.  And being in love does odd
things to a body.  It makes them insecure and achy; makes them dream
and plot and plan for the future regardless of whether or not the
object of their affection is of the same mindset.  And in my case it
made me want to be selfish, to want to cut out anyone in Fox's life
who could claim a piece of his personal time.  I knew it was unfair
and unworthy of me - but I couldn't stop myself.

Last week when I'd called Fox and then gone over to see him and to
talk it out, the evening had not ended quite the way I'd hoped.  Oh,
going to bed with him and being the recipient of his tender
lovemaking was wonderful, as always.  He'd made exquisite love to me
and I fell asleep cocooned in the warmth of his strong arms with his
breath puffing in my ear.  He had fallen asleep almost immediately
and I had stifled my disappointment at not being able to talk to him.
I knew he'd been very tired - I knew he'd been burning the candle at
both ends.  And I knew I was not being a supportive girlfriend.  But
I'd wanted - needed - to firm up the groundwork of our relationship;
to choose boundaries and stay within them.  I wanted Fox to tell me
that I was numero uno in his life - that I came first regardless of
his partner and her quality of life.  

Lying there in his arms, I spent half the night beating myself up
for begrudging Dana a part of his time.  I spent the other half
vindicating my attitude.  I finally dozed off to sleep jealously
hoarding the deep warmth emanating from my lover's body and promising
myself to re-double my efforts in my quest to be everything Fox
Mulder needed - friend as well as lover -  confidante, helpmate...

Future wife material.  Oh yes, in the back of my subconscious mind,
already heavy with sleep and sinking down into the vacuum of my
dreams... God help me.  I was that needy.  I was that determined.

I spent the weekend with Fox, and it was wonderful.  I never went
home after Friday night for anything except a change or two of
clothing, and to water my plants or do a little cooking.  We went out
to dinner on Saturday night and spent all of Sunday at the lake - and
luck was with us for Fox's phone never rang once.  He was between
cases and mostly office-bound during the week, which meant the
weekend was ours.

Fox was wonderful; caring and loving and tender with me.  A tiny
voice deep inside me kept whispering that he was acting this way
because I'd more or less pushed him into it.  I as resolutely pushed
that voice so far within that it became a distant echo that I could
easily ignore.  I told myself Fox wouldn't do anything he truly
didn't want to do; that in declaring myself on Friday night when we'd
made love, I'd opened up his eyes once and for all and it was a much-
needed revelation.  All that following week Fox really did act like a
man in love.  He never said the words, but sometimes actions spoke
louder than words.  

That's what I told myself.

Dana had come back to work and seemed to be holding steady, so Fox
had the days with her in the office.  I had asked him on Monday how
she was doing and his smiling answer had been short but did reassure
me that perhaps seeing her at work would be enough for him.

"She's tired, Lilly - but she says she feels better.  I'm going to
keep an eye on her at work and make sure she doesn't overdo it."  I
had smiled back at him and nodded, relieved.  Maybe things were
starting to look up.  I sent Dana a 'Thinking of You' card and looked
forward to the rest of the week.

We met at his apartment every evening after work.  It was a
relatively quiet week for both of us, and getting together to spend
the evening, and then the night, was making me feel positively
pampered.  By the end of the week my confidence was at an all-time
high and I felt much more secure about our relationship.  I cooked
for him on Friday evening and after we cleaned up the dinner dishes
we snuggled on the sofa together and I did my best to gently prod Fox
into letting me know more of his life.  

I'd been his girlfriend for over two years and so much about him was
still a mystery to me.  I had only met his mother twice, and he
rarely spoke of his father, who I knew was deceased - or his missing
sister.  His mother was a stately, still-lovely woman who had greeted
me with conservative politeness on the two occasions I'd met her.  I
had seen photographs of his father and his sister Samantha.  Fox said
she'd been kidnapped when she was a child, and had never been found. 
I'd let it go for two years; curious as hell but determined not to
prod and risk pushing him away.  

On that Friday evening I did the one thing I swore I'd never do: I
prodded.  Confident enough in the way Fox had responded to me over
the prior weekend and suddenly more secure of my place in his life
than I'd been in a long time, I tried my best to guide the
conversation into areas probably best left alone.

I waited until we'd settled on the sofa with slices of pineapple
cake that I'd made at home and brought over.  Cups of coffee sat on
the low cocktail table in front of the sofa and as I curled up next
to Fox and watched him eat his cake, I thought for the umpteenth time
how utterly beautiful this man was.  More than outward good looks;
the world was full of handsome men and if one wanted only that level
of beauty the pickings were generous.  There was so much more to Fox
Mulder, and the beauty within, the beauty of his soul... it shone
through those amazing hazel eyes and reached out to embrace the world
with the wonder of a man-child whose enchantment hadn't really dimmed
all that much - not yet.  From the little he'd told me about his job,
I knew he'd seen some truly horrible things. But it hadn't hardened
him, in the two years I had known him.  It hadn't laid him low.  I
prayed in that moment that nothing in his life would take him down
like that - and if it did then I would be by his side to help him.  

So we ate our cake and made small talk, and I finished my dessert
and most of my coffee before I broached the subject of his family.  I
truly felt it was necessary for Fox to open up to me, and finally let
me in.  Two years was a long time to be involved with someone at this
level of intimacy and still be left so much in the dark.

"Fox - how is your mother?  Have you heard from her lately?"  I was
proud of the way I'd chosen to bring it up; asking after his mother
seemed a good way to begin.  Fox regarded me curiously at the mention
of her, but answered agreeably enough.

"I suppose she's well; I haven't spoken to her lately.  Usually if
she needs me she calls."  Fox finished off his cake and relaxed
against the sofa cushions with his cup, obviously not prepared to say
any more.  I studied him, this sometimes-enigmatic lover of mine -
and suddenly it was of paramount importance that he talk about his
family - now, tonight.  In some insecure part of my brain I
rationalized the need for this confidence as his assurance that I was
part of his life and a much-desired ingredient in the recipe of his
future.  I told myself that if Fox loved me he would want to share
all aspects of himself with me, and I had to know that very minute. 
I took a deep breath and plunged in.

"You must miss her when you don't hear from her, Fox - she seems
like a very special lady.  I enjoyed meeting her; maybe we could go
up and see her.  I bet she'd like that."  As soon as I said it I
realized I'd made a mistake, for the look on Fox's face was a clear
indication that I'd somehow overstepped whatever bounds he'd set for
me - and the knowledge that I had been set into boundaries in the
first place... it scared me.  

Without answering me Fox set down his empty cup, then stood and
collected the plates and forks, carrying them into the kitchen.  I
heard the clatter of dishes and silverware in the sink, followed by
running water.  I sat on the sofa mentally berating myself for
opening my mouth and saying anything.  And I immediately redeemed
myself by rationalizing that I had every right to assume the man I
loved would be willing and eager to incorporate me into his family
life.  

I looked up as Fox re-entered the living room and sat back down on
the sofa.  He picked up my hand, which had been resting in my lap,
and encased it in his warm palm - and it was several more seconds
before either of us spoke.

"Fox, I'm sorry -"  My voice trailed off when he squeezed my fingers.

"It's all right, Lilly.  Your comment just took me by surprise,
that's all.  Look - my mother and I - well, we're not close.  Neither
of us feel the need to get together frequently.  She knows if she
needs me she can call me and I'll go right up there as soon as I can
get away.  She has a lot of friends and she spends most of her time
with them."  The explanation seemed purposely vague to me, and of
course I couldn't leave it alone.

"But I would think that in light of the loss of her husband, and a
child... she'd want you around her a lot.  It had to be so hard on
her when your sister was kidnapped, and having to come to grips with
not knowing what became of her.  Having to accept her death, find
closure..." Once again my voice broke off, as Fox suddenly let go of
my hand, and stood.  I glanced up into his eyes, and the darkened
hazel of them should have warned me that I was treading in dangerous
waters.  

My need to get closer to Fox blinded me to that danger. And
stupidly, I blundered on.

"I'm sure she and your father were grateful you were safe and sound,
at home with them, Fox - that had to have been a comfort..."  Fox had
tuned away from me while I'd been speaking but as I uttered that last
sentence he whipped around to face me and the storm in his eyes had
gotten much blacker.  

"Lilly... I don't want to talk about this. I told you my mother and
I are not close.  Believe me, it's not necessary to go visiting her;
she would probably not appreciate the gesture.  Let's drop it, okay? 
It doesn't matter; it's not important."   His jaw was set tightly and
it should have been obvious to me that this was one subject he was
unwilling to discuss, for whatever reason.   But honestly, I could
not see why something as important as a family should be kept so
quiet.  And so in my infinite wisdom I chose to pursue it.  Not the
smartest move I ever made...

"Fox, I simply meant that it was good for them that they had you to
ease their pain over losing your sister like that - sometimes another
child can lessen the pain of the one that died -"  Fox's low rasp cut
through my placating explanation and effectively shut me up; not a
moment too soon, either.

"Dammit!  Not now.  I can't talk about this, Lilly.  Not with
everything else I've got on my mind. I can't get into this with you
right now; there's so much you don't understand."  With that, Fox
moved to the front door and locked it, then snapped off the kitchen
light, adding, "It's late, and I have a long day ahead of me
tomorrow.  We should get some sleep."  With a troubled sigh I stood
up and walked ahead of him to the bedroom, knowing I had pushed it
way too far, angered at myself for doing so, trying not to be angry
with him for not opening up to me and relieved that he still wanted
me to stay over.  

I took the bathroom first, cleaning my face and brushing my teeth
with the spare toothbrush I kept there.  I left the light on for Fox
and walked to the bed, slipping underneath the covers and watching
warily as he moved silently around the bedroom, hanging up his
clothes.  He didn't say a word as he entered the bathroom, and I
listened to more running water as he finished up and came back to the
bed.  In the dim light his skin gleamed and his hair looked almost
black.  The sight of him like this never failed to make me ache - and
tonight I ached in a new way, the ache of panic.  I couldn't lose
him.  

The bed dipped as he climbed in, and straightened the covers over
his waist.  Seconds ticked by, with neither of us moving or touching.
It had never felt this awkward between us before, not even that very
first time in his bed when it should have been strange and new and
shaky.  My fault... God.  When would I learn?  I was so busy beating
myself up about it that when Fox turned to me and took me into his
arms, I barely felt it.  Not until I looked up to find his face so
close to mine did I realize that he was holding me and I had started
to cry, feeling the hot tears tracking a burning slide down my face. 
In the silent bedroom Fox's voice was soft and clear.

"Please don't cry, Lilly.  I'm not angry.  I don't like to talk
about my family.  You couldn't have known that, honey.  I'm sorry..."
And he kissed that apology against my parted lips and I sucked it
down into me and kept it against my heart as a promise, that if not
tonight then maybe soon - very soon - Fox would let me in.  And I
tried not to think about the probability that Dana already knew
everything about him - and that I still knew so little...  As Fox
held me in his arms and kissed my shoulders, down over my collarbone
to my breast, I re-doubled my determination to find a way to make him
understand and to know that I was all he would ever need.  I wound
myself all around him, entwining not only my body but my soul with
Fox Mulder - not sure if he accepted all I was giving him - and not
quite certain I could handle it if I discovered that my love wasn't
what he needed.

*****************

Somebody's phone was ringing, from a very far distance.  I could
hear it right on the edge of my consciousness, and it bothered me the
way an annoying mosquito would irritate.  I was too tired to answer
it; that's why God made answering machines.  Dimly I felt the bed dip
a little, and I opened one eye.  In the shadowy bedroom I could just
make out Lilly's arm as she reached over me to grab at the phone.  As
I let myself succumb to sleep, her low tones faded out, and then
right back in again, accompanied by a hand shaking my shoulder.

"Fox... it's for you.  It's Dana."  

I sat up abruptly, all traces of sleep gone, as I took the phone out
of Lilly's hand.  I raised it to my ear with trepidation, knowing
that for Scully to call me this late at night outside of a case, and
as ill as she was... 

"Scully, what's wrong?"  For a moment I could hear her breathing
into the receiver, but she didn't talk.  She breathed, then sniffed
once.  

Jesus... she was crying...  "Scully!  Tell me what's wrong!"  I
pressed the phone to my ear, hard - as if I could will her to speak
to me by applying pressure.  I heard another breath, then her voice;
shaky and thick.

"Mulder... sorry.  I didn't know... you had company.  Sorry to
bother you."  Her voice dropped to almost a whisper, and I knew she
would hang up without telling me anything.  I found myself on my feet
with the phone gripped in my hand, feeling the worst sort of panic.

"Scully, wait!  Don't hang up.  Are you sick?  Tell me!  I'll come
over, okay?  I can be there in fifteen minutes."  Her hurried protest
rang in my ear.

"No Mulder... it's all right.  I'll be all right.  I just... I had
another nosebleed and I guess it scared me.  I couldn't get it to
stop, and..."  Her words ended in a choking cough, and a loud clatter
in my ear told me she'd dropped the phone.  I paced the floor and
repeatedly called her name, feeling the original panic escalating
fast.

"Scully, talk to me!  Come on, what's going on?"  I glanced
at the bed once, meeting Lilly's concerned gaze and wondering if I
could look as frenzied as I felt.  I was on the verge of dropping the
phone myself and tearing over there, when she got back on the phone.

"I'm here, Mulder... sorry.  I - Mulder... I just... I don't know -
I just wanted to talk to you, but I didn't know Lillian was there...
I'm sorry.  I should just - you should go back to sleep.  I'll talk
to you tomorrow."  A ragged breath in my ear, and that sound,
combined with what little she'd told me, was enough for me to break
out into a cold sweat.  Dana Scully is the strongest person I know. 
Her threshold for pain has always amazed me... her repetitious and
notorious "I'm fine", a standard in our partnership.  I kept the
phone to my ear and grabbed my jeans, hopping around on one foot as I
struggled to get them on, not bothering with underwear.  As I fought
to get my clothes on without dropping the phone, I made her tell me
her symptoms.

"Throwing up.  The last time there was blood in it.  My head is
splitting, 
and I'm so dizzy... had a treatment today but I don't think it
helped me.  
My nose wouldn't stop bleeding, Mulder..."  The fade-out of her voice 
coincided with another clatter - she'd dropped the phone again. I
could 
feel the blood drain out of my head, as I shouted into the phone.

"Scully!  SCULLY!  Dammit!"  Lilly was on her feet and at my side as
I yanked on a shirt and scrabbled under the bed for my sneakers.  I
shoved my feet in without unlacing them and turned to her briefly to
press a kiss to her temple.  She followed me to the door, running to
keep up, and I looked back at her one last time before I ran out the
door.

"Lilly, I'm sorry.  Scully is deathly ill.  I've got to get over
there.  I'll call you later - and I'm sorry, honey."  I saw her nod,
worry in her soft eyes, as I ran out the door and down the hall, not
bothering to wait for the elevator.  I ran out of the building and
jumped into my car and roared off... and all I could see in my head
was Scully, bleeding from her little nose and clutching her pounding
head while she vomited with the extreme nausea her treatments caused.
All alone with her cancer, while I lay in bed with my girlfriend...  

I couldn't stand it.  I wouldn't be able to bear it if anything else
happened to Scully; if she did not survive this physical devastation.

I drove like a fiend, all the way to her place.

*****************

~ Chapter Five ~

My hand searched blindly across the floor for the phone that I had
dropped.  I wrapped my fingers around the slick plastic casing and
lifted the phone back to my ear.

"Mulder?"  I listened for a moment before I realized that he wasn't
on the line any more and I fumbled for the off button.  He was on his
way over here.  Oh God.  If I hadn't felt nauseous before, I
certainly did now.

I don't know what I was thinking when I picked up the phone to call
him at two o'clock in the morning.  The truth was that I wasn't
thinking - I was reacting.  I had been feeling so good all week.  It
had felt wonderful to be back at work and a productive member of
society and I wasn't prepared when the nausea had started shortly
after I had eaten dinner.  I spent a few minutes trying to convince
myself that I had simply eaten something that had disagreed with me,
but I've become very much attuned to my body and I recognized this
symptom even as I tried to deny it.  When the headache began to pound
behind my eyes a short while later, I knew that my week-long reprieve
was over.

When it got to be too bad, when the fear became overwhelming, I
picked up the phone to call Mulder.  Lillian's soft voice when I had
been expecting Mulder's middle-of-the-night mumble had thrown me for
a loop.  I can honestly say that it never occurred to me that she
would be sharing Mulder's bed when I broke down and called him.  In
the last week or so, Lillian had dropped off my radar.  

>From the moment Mulder had pressed his lips to mine last week, I
have been hyperaware of him in a way that I had never been before. 
His mouth had tugged lightly at mine and I had buried my fingers in
the springy warmth of his hair and when our lips parted, I had looked
cautiously into his eyes, searching for a sign - for something that
would tell me that he had kissed me as an expression of pity or of
sorrow.  But his eyes had been clear and honest when he told me that
he kissed me because we needed it; that he had kissed me because he
had wanted to.

I had fallen in love with him...  Not at that moment - no.  But like
a princess in a fairy tale, it had taken just the brush of his mouth
over mine to make me realize that I had loved him for years; that I
had loved him in a way that I'd never loved before.  For so long
now he had been the first thing I thought of when I awoke in the
morning and it was his face that I'd see when I drifted off to sleep
at
the end of the day.

I'd spent the past week basking in the warmth of his company,
soaking in the pleasure of being the center of his attention as we
whiled away the hours in his basement office.  I spent five days
enjoying the happy smile that was plastered to his face whenever he
turned to look at me while we worked.  I had foolishly mistaken the
joyful gleam in his eyes to be a reciprocation of my feelings.

It had taken Lillian's soft, sweet voice to shake my fantasy loose
and to bring the truth to life.  I fought down a bitter swell of
jealousy as I pictured her lying in Mulder's bed, wrapped in his
arms.  When she answered the phone, her voice had been sleepy. 
Sated?  The pounding behind my eyes seemed to increase.

Now, he was on his way over to my apartment and the thought of
facing him was... mortifying.  I felt raw, exposed - the pain and the
nausea leaving me ill equipped to hide my feelings from him.  I
stumbled into the bathroom as another wave of sickness swept over me
and when it passed I leaned shakily against the porcelain sink and
studied my face in the mirror above it.  I was a mess.  I soaked a
washcloth under the cold-water tap and held it to my face for a long
moment then I used my toothbrush to scrub the bitter taste from my
mouth.  Snapping off the bathroom light, I stepped out into the
hallway and slumped wearily against the wall.  The simple act of
washing my face and brushing my teeth had wiped me out and I crawled
back to the living room on my hands and knees.

I climbed onto the sofa and gratefully stretched out on the
overstuffed cushions.  I eyed the prescription bottle of pain
medication that was lying open on the coffee table and then I
squinted at the watch on my wrist.  I had already exceeded the dosage
amount, but I might as well have been swallowing baby aspirin for all
the good the pills were doing.  My eyes were burning with the strain
of trying to hold them open. I closed them with a sigh of relief
and fretfully rubbed my fingertips against the bridge of my nose.  

I never heard my door open and I was unaware of Mulder entering my
home until he touched me with gentle hands.

"Scully?"  His fingers stroked down my arm and he lightly squeezed
me above the elbow.  His voice took on a panicked edge as he called
my name again.

"Scully?  Can you hear me?"  He groaned softly and his hands clamped
onto my arms as he gently shook me.  "God!  Scully, please - wake
up!" His voice was pleading and I struggled to lift heavy lashes to
see him.  His face was frantic and a smile wobbled on his lips when
his eyes made contact with mine.

"Oh thank God!" he exclaimed.  My eyes slid closed again for a
moment and I drew in a fortifying breath as I gathered my strength in
order to open them again.  All of the joy that I had associated with
him this week had been drained from his face as I watched his gaze
sweep over me.  I saw the shimmer of tears in his eyes when he
noticed the towel that I had spread over the cushions of my sofa in
an attempt to protect them from the nosebleeds.

"Oh, Scully," he moaned sadly as he rose from where he had been
crouching.  Bending over, he scooped me into his arms and sank down
onto the sofa, settling me into his lap.  "Should I take you to the
hospital?" he asked quietly. I shook my head and burrowed my face
into his neck and inhaled deeply to fill my lungs with his scent. 
The pain that lanced through my heart rivaled the relentless
throbbing behind my eyes as the musky aroma that clung to his skin
assailed me and once again I was left to wonder what I had
interrupted when I had called him. Weakly, I pushed against his
shoulders, trying to force him to let go of me, but he simply curled
his hand around the back of my head and tightened the arm that was
wrapped around my waist.  His grip was gentle, yet purposeful and
within seconds, I was once again slumped against him.  His body
shifted almost imperceptibly as he rocked me in his arms and I let
his wordless, crooning murmurs wash over me.  I lifted one arm and
wrapped it around his shoulder.  I settled my cheek more comfortably
against his chest and my breathing fell into concert with his as I
was soothed by the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath me.

I was drifting, caught somewhere between sleep and wakefulness,
between pain and peace when the nausea struck again.  I clapped a
hand over my mouth and pushed ineffectually against him.

"Scully, where are you going?" he asked as he tried to pull me back
into his arms.  I shook my head violently and cried out as a fresh
wave of pain burst behind my eyes at my sudden movement.

"Sick!" I gasped, stumbling to my feet as he finally loosened his
grip on me.  I staggered dizzily for a second and Mulder wrapped his
arms around me and carried me into the bathroom.  I fell to my knees
next to the toilet and shuddered as I hung my head over the bowl. 
The bitter taste of bile rose in my throat, but my stomach had long
ago been emptied and I hung my head as I was wracked by the dry
heaves.  Mulder crouched beside me and rubbed a soothing hand over my
back and his voice was a low murmur of gentle compassion and support.

"It's okay," he whispered continually.  "You're going to be
all right."  I concentrated on the sound of his voice until the
violent
shudders faded.  Exhausted, I fell back on my heels and kept my chin
pressed into my chest.  Although I was grateful for his presence, I
couldn't bear to look at him - to see the sadness and fear on his
face.  I shouldn't have called him, I thought miserably.  Less than
an hour ago he had been sleeping soundly in his bed, in his
girlfriend's arms no doubt, and now he was kneeling on the cold tile
of my bathroom floor in the middle of the night.  I reached out and
tore a wad of toilet paper from the roll and gingerly blew my nose,
surreptitiously checking for blood; grateful when there was none.  I
reached up and grabbed the edge of the sink for support as Mulder
helped me to my feet.  He filled a cup with water and I took it from
him, rinsing my mouth out.

"Tired?" he asked softly.  When I nodded, he lifted me into his arms
again and carried me into the bedroom, setting me down in the middle
of the bed.  He sank down on the edge of the bed and smoothed the
hair back from my forehead.

"I wish you would let me take you to the hospital," he said
imploringly.  I sighed and shook my head, nestling my hot cheek into
the cool cotton of the pillow beneath it.  

"Won't help," I whispered.  "Please, don't make me go."  The
headache raged unabated and I kept my eyes closed, feeling, rather
than seeing him inch closer.

"When are you due to take your next pain-killer?" he asked and I
felt him shift as if he was preparing to go into the other room for
the small plastic bottle lying on my coffee table.

"I can't take another one until morning," I rasped as I grabbed his
hand and pulled him back onto the mattress.  He moved closer to me and
gathered my hands in his.  

"I know the side effects of the treatments are horrible," he
murmured as he stroked his thumbs over the backs of my hands.  "But
the treatments are necessary if you're going to beat this thing."  I
fought off the urge to tell him the truth - that the treatments
weren't working - but I held back.  The doctors hadn't admitted it
yet, but I knew - somehow I knew - that I was fighting a losing
battle.  My body was weakening and I realized that
I needed to begin to prepare Mulder for the inevitable.  But not
tonight, I told myself.  I don't have the strength to tell him
tonight...  

His fingers had begun to trace tiny patterns over my forehead and I
felt his weight press lightly into me as he leaned over me.  His
breath stirred the hair near my temple and then he brushed his lips
over my brow, just as he had in the corridor of a hospital in
Allentown, Pennsylvania and just as he had done countless times since
that night.  He pressed his mouth warm and tender on the skin between
my eyebrows, just above the place where the tumor was growing fast
and strong.  Miraculously I felt the pain ebb and with each whispered
kiss, my limbs relaxed into the sheets beneath my body as sleep
finally crept forward to claim me.

Long moments passed and I was nearly asleep when I felt Mulder begin
to ease away from me.  "Good night," he whispered softly as he sat
up.  I reached out quickly and clutched his wrist tightly.

"Don't leave," I begged sleepily.  I pried open drowsy eyes at the
soft sound of his sneakers thudding onto the floor and then he was
sliding into the bed beside me.

"Go to sleep," he ordered softly as he curled his body toward mine. 
"I'll stay right here," he promised.  I turned onto my side and
snuggled my cheek into the pillow as I caught his fingers with my own.

"Thank you for coming over," I murmured around a yawn.  My eyes
blinked open again to study his face.  I was reluctant to fall asleep
because I knew that when morning came, I would once again wake up
alone.  But Mulder was determined that I should rest and he stroked
his knuckles over my cheek.

"Sleep," he demanded again in a soft but firm voice.  I was losing
my struggle to stay awake.  My eyes met his and I forced a tired
smile onto my lips and he matched it with one of his own.  I nodded
and curled my body around our joined hands.

"Good night, Mulder," I whispered.  I was asleep before I ever heard
his reply.

*************************

When four o'clock came and went without a sign of Fox or a phone
call, I gave up pacing around the kitchen, and turned out the lights
as I made my way back to the bedroom.  I knew I would not be getting
any more sleep that night, so I picked up the remote and clicked on
the TV.  Never much of a tube watcher, I mostly wanted the
background noise.  And I wasn't in the mood for music.

I sat propped up against a mound of pillows that smelled of my
lover, and I watched an old black and white sci-fi film without even
seeing it, reminding myself several times in an hour or so that Fox
WAS my lover.  Mine, not Dana's.  He had been mine for so long now,
mine in a way that his partner could never compete with - interfere
with.  Yes, it was true that he belonged to Dana in very complicated
patterns, in some place that I could never go.  I felt I had accepted
that - was fine with it.  And I had already admitted to myself that
there was love between them - and it went very deep.  But I could
accept those feelings, as long as they didn't go beyond what I
thought was right and proper between platonic friends.  I could
handle it...

What I could not handle very well was the need I could see in Dana,
and the way Fox reacted to it.  As far as I was concerned the line
between empathy and sympathy was as close as pity and love.  When the
emotions were engaged it didn't matter what their defining edge was -
it all blurred into reactionary responses.  And right now I knew Fox
was being very reactionary.  He saw his best friend in pain - and he
wanted to help, even at the expense of himself.  And Dana couldn't
help the way she cared for him - God, who could?  This is a very
special man.  I would think very few women could resist him - and Fox
didn't even try to attract them; he didn't have to.  He was also
completely unaware of his own appeal.  

I watched a Japanese man run screaming down the middle of a city
street with an enormous, Godzilla-like creature chasing him, and
wondered if a casual observer of my and Fox's relationship would
think I chased him.  Did I come off as needy?  Desperate?  In most
relationships there was usually one who loved, and one who was loved.
I thought back on my past loves, trying to picture the way I was with
those men - trying to remember if I'd ever been the one who was
loved. My shoulders slumped as I realized that I had always done the
loving... and as much as I refused to admit it I knew I was doing the
loving this time, as well.  

I clicked off the stupid movie and slid down into the pillows,
fighting to hold back tears.  I hated feeling sorry for myself, and I
despised feeling petty.  My Gran had raised me better than that.  If
she knew how I resented Dana Scully, she'd flay me alive for my
unkindness.  The last time I'd sought her counsel and advice she'd
warned me not to place Fox in a situation where he would have to
choose.  I understood the wisdom of her caution - if forced to make a
choice I knew Fox would not pick me, not during this critical time in
Dana's illness.  He would sacrifice all his time and his energy for
her and she would gratefully soak it right up.  

I couldn't blame her for it - any more than I could stop myself from
resenting her, and in a very small and very mean part of my mind,
wanting this to just be over.  As soon as that awful thought came to
me, I was truly horrified at the direction I'd been heading.  I
clapped both of my hands over my mouth in shock and sat up abruptly. 
God, I had just wished for a woman to hurry up and pass on so that I
could have my boyfriend back... I had sunk frighteningly low.  So low
that I could begrudge a dying woman the comfort of her best friend -
not only his comfort but any small bit of his time away from me.  I
felt like shit.

Unfortunately, I also felt very human - and fragile, and weak. 
Where had all my hard-won independence gone?  The little orphaned
girl whose Gran had to take her in and play mommy and daddy; whose
well-intentioned love and protectiveness had sometimes gotten heavy-
handed.  I'd been a good girl growing up but I had also struggled
against those velvet bands and had won my right to lose as well as
win... it was all a part of maturing.  And I'd had my share of
winning, and losing.  I always tried to see the positive side of any
event in my life, good or bad.  

This time I couldn't see anything past my own escalating panic, that
the man I loved was in danger of falling for his partner, and would
be too close to the situation to see the blurring of those defining
edges - 

And I would be the ultimate loser.  

With a deep sigh I got out of Fox's bed and dressed in the dark.  I
dragged on my clothes with a heavy heart, knowing exactly where Fox
was at this very moment and what he was doing.  He'd be most likely
sitting on the edge of Dana's bed holding her hand and willing her to
improve - to get stronger.  All of that healing warmth in those
elegant hands of his, draining out of his fingertips and infusing
life through her pale palms.  And when Dana awoke in the morning he'd
be in the same exact spot, still holding her hands... still sharing
his warmth - his life.  I told myself it was the right thing for him
to do - I told myself I was proud of him for being that sort of
wonderful man.  I reminded myself that for now Dana needed him, but
there would come a time when Dana would no longer be here, and when
that day came Fox would be the one lost, and needy - and he'd draw
upon my strength to put himself back together.

I walked out of his apartment feeling better about most everything,
including my brief bout of rotten selfishness - and took a cab home.

***************

I woke up in the morning to find muted sunlight streaming over the
bed.  I stretched, feeling remarkably good considering how
desperately ill I had been only a few hours earlier.  Even more
remarkable was the fact that Mulder was still asleep.  In my bed.  I
pushed myself up onto an elbow and took advantage of the opportunity
to study his face.

His chest rose and fell steadily with his even breathing and his
face was turned towards me.  His eyelashes cast dark shadows on his
cheekbones and his mouth was slightly open.  I wanted to press my
lips to his, to awaken him with my kisses...

I studied him in the clear light of day and I knew that my love for
him was true and strong and not something imagined and wished for in
a moment of pain and weakness.  Over the past four years I had loved
him in every possible way - as partner, friend... as the man I would
willingly die for.  Knowing him has been the most important thing
that has ever happened to me and I wanted so badly to cry out to him
and to the world that I love him.

But I didn't.

It wouldn't be fair.

Mulder didn't need to know that things had changed; that my feelings
for him were stronger and deeper than ever before.  I didn't want him
to feel guilty for not returning my love; nor did I want him to
sacrifice the happy life he had built with Lillian.

I settled back against the pillows and closed my eyes, savoring the
moment, lost in a world of make believe.  I opened them again when
Mulder sighed and shifted, and the moment was lost.  This is not who
we are, I realized.  Long, lazy Saturday mornings snuggling in bed
with Mulder were meant for another woman.  He didn't belong to me.  I
slipped quietly from the bed and pulled a robe over my pajamas.  As
much as I longed to burrow back under the covers and into Mulder's
arms, I didn't want to see the look on his face when he awoke to find
me and not Lillian lying beside him.  And although I knew that Mulder
loved me deeply, I didn't believe that he was in love with me and I
didn't want our sharing a bed to cloud or confuse things for him.  I
understood Mulder well enough to know that it wouldn't take much for
him to take friendship and compassion and mistake it for love.  My
death was going to be agonizing enough for Mulder without him
convincing himself that he had lost the woman he loved.

I washed up quickly in the bathroom and pulled my limp hair into a
loose ponytail before heading to the kitchen to start breakfast.  I
made a small pot of coffee for Mulder and a cup of tea for myself.  I
didn't want to risk upsetting my now steady stomach with the strongly
brewed coffee that Mulder and I both enjoyed.  I was pulling a box of
frozen waffles from the freezer when I heard Mulder's feet thump hard 
onto the floor before the sound of his panicked voice reached me.

"Scully!" he yelled as he moved from room to room.

"I'm in here, Mulder," I called, frowning as I heard the heavy beat
of his bare feet hitting the floor as he hurried into the kitchen.  I
stopped in the act of putting two waffles into the toaster oven,
surprised by the frantic look on his face.

"Mulder?" I asked.  "What is it?  What's wrong?"  I blinked at him
in confusion and gasped when he crossed the room in three long
strides to snatch me into his arms, lifting my feet from the floor.

"I woke up and you were gone," he rasped as he anxiously clamped his
arms around my waist.

"I was hungry," I said in a voice muffled by the soft cotton of his
T-shirt.  A disbelieving laugh rumbled through his chest and he
pulled his head back in order to look down into my face.

"You were hungry?" he asked incredulously.  "But last night you...
I..."  He pulled me closer and I felt a violent shudder go though his
long frame.  One hand cupped the back of my head and he pressed my
face into his chest.

"I was so scared, Scully," he admitted with a bleak look on his
face.  I nodded and rubbed suddenly damp eyes against his cotton
shirt.  

"I know, Mulder," I whispered.  "I know.  I was scared too - that's
why I called you."  I wrapped my arms around his neck for added
balance.  "But I feel so much better this morning," I assured him.

"Stomach's not bothering you?" he queried anxiously.  "Your head..."
I shook my head and smiled when he lowered me so that my feet could
once again touch the floor.  

"I feel good," I promised.

Mulder's shoulders sagged as if a massive burden had been lifted
from them and the relief was evident in the tiny smile he graced me
with.  He cupped my face in his hands and lowered his lips to my
forehead again.  He pressed a lingering kiss against my temple and
then brushed two gentle, whispery kisses to my cheeks before burying
his face in my neck.  He crushed me in his arms and his mouth moved
lightly on the sensitive skin beneath my ear.  His breath both warmed
my skin and tickled and I hunched my shoulders, trying to dislodge
him from the crook of my neck and away from one of the most ticklish
spots on my body.  I felt him lift his mouth from my neck and when I
rapidly turned my head in an attempt at blocking him from tickling me
again, my mouth brushed over his stubbled chin.

Surprised, he stared at me for a moment and then his eyes darkened. 
The hands on either side of my face moved and tilted my head back and
he kept his eyes locked on mine as he lowered his mouth to brush over
my lips - once softly and a second time with a little nip as he
lightly bit my bottom lip.  When his tongue darted out to tease the
corner of my lips, I turned my head, blindly seeking his mouth with
my own.  Mulder's grip on me changed again as he tilted my head back
even further and he bent nearly in half as his lips began to move
over mine in a series of soft, drugging kisses.  In some distant part
of my mind, warning bells were ringing, but they were muted when his
tongue slipped out to trace a slick path over my lips before pushing
against my teeth, begging for entrance.

"Mulder..." I groaned as my hands came up to clamp around his
wrists.  I don't know if I was trying to push him away or hold him
tight but as his name slipped out of me on a long, low groan, he slid
his tongue into my mouth, rubbing it lightly, teasingly against my
own.  In a heartbeat the kiss changed from sweetly inquisitive to
greedy as I released his wrists to clutch fistfuls of his hair.

I gasped when I felt him lift me onto the table and my legs fell
apart naturally as he stepped between them.  I used my grip on his
hair to pull his face down and he moved closer to me as he shifted to
keep his balance.  His hands fell away from my face and I shuddered
when I felt them trace patterns across the silky material of the
pajama
bottoms that were stretched over my thighs before he skimmed his
fingertips over my hips and along my ribcage.  I should send him
away, I thought - as my nipples tightened in anticipation of his warm
hands on my breasts.  I should send him away, but I couldn't.  I
didn't want to.  I felt more alive in the moments since he had first
caught my mouth with his own than I had in months... more alive than
I'd felt in years.  I loved this man and I told myself that I wanted
this... I needed this - just once.  Just one time before I die...

**************** 

Hours later, in my own apartment sitting slumped over my own sofa, I
would shake my head in bewilderment at what happened between Scully
and me in her kitchen that morning - what we almost did.  I would
wonder aloud at the power of desperation, any kind of desperation -
and shudder again in reaction to that moment when I awakened in her
bed and she was not there.  

I had never been so frightened in all of my life as I had been last
night when I held her pale and trembling in my arms after she'd been
so violently ill in her bathroom.  Dry heaves - the worst.  She'd had
nothing left to vomit up, which in itself was scary - no water,
nothing.  She'd been dehydrated for God knew how long, and in her
weakened condition that was especially dangerous.  

I didn't want to let her out of my sight, and if she hadn't asked me
to stay I know I would have made it as far as just outside her door
before I'd turned around and come running back in.  I sat with her
all night, gladly - anything to watch over her, as if by my very
presence I could somehow stave off the monstrous enemy within her
frail body.  I guess when I woke up this morning and she wasn't right
next to me, I thought it had finally gotten her.  Childish thought, I
know - but bone-jarring fright owes nothing to age and maturity.

When I rushed into the kitchen and saw Scully standing there with
nothing more life-threatening happening to her than the toasting of
waffles... the relief I felt almost dropped me to my knees.  I had to
get my hands on her, anywhere I could reach - and assure myself that
she was all right.  I found her in my arms before I'd realized I'd
pulled her to me; found small, tender places on her sweet face and
neck to press thankful kisses... 

When her mouth brushed over my chin it felt like an epiphany.  

I pulled back to stare at her and it was as if I'd never seen her
before.  I gazed into her eyes and then at that rosebud mouth of
hers.  Suddenly, I had to have it - I had to have her mouth.  I would
die if I didn't take it.  There was no discussion in my brain, still
half-frantic with the residual worry of a few minutes before.  If one
tiny voice of rational thought in my head was screaming at me to give
serious consideration to what I was about to do - I ignored it with
unswayable purpose.  Her mouth.  Naturally pink and full and dewy and
curved just a little at the left corner... a hint of pearly whites
behind it.  I wanted her mouth, more than anything I'd ever wanted in
my life.

More than I'd ever wanted Lilly, in the more than two years we'd been
together.  

Later I would remember that silent confession I made to myself, and
feel like a total prick for thinking that way.  But this morning the
lips I wanted were a breath away and I took them.  I tasted the
sweetness of Dana Scully and one taste was not enough.  A million
tastes would never be enough - I drank her in as if tomorrow would
never come - and when she moaned low in her throat it unleashed so
much that I'd been carrying around for so long. I bent over her small
body and with no thought of the rough night she'd had, I kissed my
partner with the sort of passion I'd been unknowingly carrying for
her.  And in that moment I understood that regardless of the amount 
of time we had left together, I wanted - needed - her.  Scully.  
Only Scully. So much a part of me for so long that at times she 
seemed an extension of my body... so deeply entrenched in my heart 
that I was amazed there had ever been room for anyone else.

I propped her on her kitchen table and pressed myself between her
slender thighs.  The heat emanating from her scorched me but I was so
willing for the burn.  It meant that I held a woman brimming with
life in my arms.  Not a sick woman - not a dying woman... but alive. 
Vital.  Beautiful... 

Scully.  

I forgot everything I was supposed to remember as soon as I covered
her mouth with my parched lips, and drank her in.  My restless hands
itched to touch her, everywhere; my ears strained to hear the moans
and sighs coming from her throat as I curled my tongue around hers. 
She tasted amazing, and I was so hungry I was in physical pain from
it.  She felt astonishingly right in my arms and I finally let those
afore-mentioned restless hands curve over her, slipping up from her
silk-covered hips to burrow underneath the little pajama top, and
press over her breasts.  At the feel of them under my hands I groaned
in harsh reaction and her answering moan was just as raw and shot
down my throat, all the way to my heart.  Oh, God, Scully...

"Oh, God... Scully..."  I was humming her name into her mouth as we
kissed more passionately, clutched at each other with stronger need. 
She arched against my palms and her little nipples bore into my skin
as I rubbed them into even harder points.  Our combined breathing was
harsh and loud in the silent kitchen and as I rubbed at her soft
breasts again I decided I had to have the nipple; it didn't matter
which for I knew by the feel of them that each one would be
perfection.  Left or right, it was a moot point.  I wanted at least
one of them...  I bent her back a little roughly but my lips were
gentle with each.  Over the silk covering them, drawing first one and
then the other into my mouth - deciding I had to have them both yet
wanting to tease myself by leaving them covered for this first,
urgent kiss -  I took them.  Heard the rough groans shivering through
me and soaking into Scully as I increased the pressure...

And suddenly her hands were pushing against me and over the roaring
in my head I could barely make out her breathless, "Mulder, stop!"  

I lifted my head in sudden panic, thinking I'd hurt her in some way -
and as my eyes met hers, glittering with unshed tears - what I saw in
them shook me to the core.  And I knew in my shocked gaze she'd seen
the exact same thing...

Lilly.  Both of us had thought of her at almost the same time,
though Scully had been quicker to react.  Oh my God...  

With jerky movements Scully pushed at me again until I loosened my
hold, and she wriggled out of my embrace and hastily scooted
backwards, out of reach of my hands, which were still outstretched in
her direction.  She gulped in a shuddering breath and my hands
dropped to my sides.  I didn't know what to say; I simply stood there
and stared at her - and she stared back.  I couldn't help but wonder
if the despair I felt in my heart was echoed on my face.  Apparently
so...

"Oh, Mulder.  What are we doing?"  Scully turned away and slipped
off the table to her feet, running her hands through her hair.  I
could see the way those hands shook.  A small part of me felt
instant, selfish pride at the knowledge that I'd affected her so
strongly - that she'd tremble afterwards.  Then that same small voice
jeered at me.  Of course she'd trembled, Jesus Christ!  She'd been
about at Death's Door just hours ago!  Scully looked a hundred
percent better but she was still seriously, gravely ill.  And I'd
given her little or no opportunity to get away from me - to decide if
she'd even wanted my embrace at all.  

When she turned back to me I noticed the way the damp silk covering
her breasts showcased each tender nipple.  I'd been responsible for
the condition of those sweet points; again I felt selfish pride - and
as ruthlessly squashed it and pushed it down.  Now was not the time -

Yet, now was exactly the right time - now or never.  But when I
stared into Scully's remorseful eyes I knew that it had to be...
never.  I took a deep breath and so did she, and when I opened my
mouth to speak she beat me to it.

"Mulder, back at your apartment is a woman who is crazy in love with
you.  She's healthy and strong and she adores everything about you. 
She would spend the rest of her life doing everything in her power to
make you happy... I on the other hand have very little life left." 
Her voice dropped to a rasping whisper and I shook my head so
violently at her words, I swear I made the fillings in my teeth
rattle.  I can't hear this, I thought to myself!  Please, God, don't
make me hear this... I must have spoken aloud because Scully offered
me the tiniest of smiles, and her voice was small and hoarse but firm.

"Yes, Mulder.  Yes.  We both know it.  Please don't waste what time
is left trying to avoid it.  I have had test after test.  The
treatments are not working, Mulder - you need to understand how
serious this is.  I am not getting better.  Oh, I have spots of
relative health, such as this morning... but it's not real - it's
only temporary.  Let's be honest about it, Mulder - it's not going to
last."  Scully blinked and the tears standing in her beautiful eyes
slid down her pale face.  She turned away and picked up a dishtowel
hanging over the back of a kitchen chair, and buried her face in it,
shoulders shaking with sobs.  I rushed to her side and tried to wrap
my arms around her; my heart was breaking into a thousand pieces and
I could not bear the distance between us.  When I touched her
shoulder her muffled, "Don't..." drew me up stiffly.  

I waited for Scully to turn again - to face me.  To face us - and
what was obviously between us.  My God, how could I let this go?  I
was only beginning to comprehend the enormity of what I felt for this
woman, and I had to stop?  Just stop... No!  I couldn't!  I tried to
make her see that.

"Scully... we can't pretend this didn't happen!  Dammit, you felt it
too!"  I stood behind her without realizing I'd stepped forward, and
I enclosed her in my arms, wrapping them around her middle and
pressing her close.  She stood like a little statue in my embrace,
and her words cut into me when she spoke.

"Yes, I felt it.  I admit it.  But there's nothing to be done about
it, Mulder.  You have a girlfriend.  You have more than two years of 
your life invested in her and in your relationship with her.  Even if 
I was healthy I would still push you away.  You have chosen someone
else
and you need to deal fairly with her, Mulder..."

Scully stepped out of my arms as she whispered the last few words to
me, and she never turned around to look at me again as she walked
into the bathroom.  But I heard what she uttered under her breath,
just before the door closed gently behind her...

"I love you, Mulder..."

And now, hours later - I sat on my sofa in my cold apartment and
wondered how in hell I would be able to pick up and continue my
relationship with Lilly when every pore in my body cried out for Dana
Scully.

****************

~ Chapter Six ~

It wasn't until I heard the knock on my door - the old "Shave and a
Haircut" five knocks, Fox's habitual door-pounding - that I
remembered I'd left the answering machine off.  When I'd arrived home
early in the morning I hadn't switched on any lights, and I'd
unplugged the machine as I'd shuffled by on the way to my bedroom. 
I'd been exhausted, but wondered if I'd even be able to sleep.  I'd
shed my clothes a piece at a time as I'd moved through my bedroom,
dropping each item on the floor and not really caring when after I
finished cleansing my face and brushing my teeth, I stepped on the
trail of them on my way back to bed.

I climbed in between cool sheets and curled into a little ball on my
side, willing my mind to rest and let me sleep.  I kept my hands
tucked under my pillow to keep them from reaching for the phone on my
night stand, and dialing Fox's cell number.  I knew he always left it
on, and I knew he'd answer it regardless of what was happening.  I
didn't want him to think I was needy.  I didn't want him to wonder
whether or not I trusted him.  I couldn't bear the thought of him
feeling as if he couldn't breathe... was being smothered by me.

As I lay there I made myself think of Dana - what she was probably
going through.  If Fox never had the time to even ring me or leave a
message and let me know how she was doing, to me that boded very ill
for an optimistic outlook.  I wondered if he'd think to call me from
the hospital, for I was convinced that's where he'd taken her.  She
was dying, after all, and dying people usually went to the hospital. 
I pulled the blankets up around my chin and relaxed a little, feeling
somewhat better.  He'd need my strength when Dana finally passed
on... he'd need the cocoon of my love, to sustain him and get him
through the loss of his partner and his best friend.

It never occurred to me to consider Fox spent the night anywhere but
at Scully's hospital bedside.  I never stopped to think that his
absence from my bed that night had signified anything different than
a last desperate need to hold Dana's hand as she slipped away.

It seemed like hours before I was able to sleep, to shut down my
over-productive brain and allow myself to rest.  I woke up four hours
later feeling drained and bleary, dragging myself from my bed and
managing to make it over to my sofa before I sank down into a stupor
again.  I told myself it was natural to feel depressed at the thought
of someone I knew whose life was slipping away.  That it was all
right for me to worry at the mental state of the man I loved, and
experience empathy for him.

And it felt like less than an hour later when that odd little knock
of Fox's announced his presence outside my door.  I had been sitting
on the sofa, staring off into space and blinking every so often. 
Thinking, about everything and yet nothing...  At the knock I jumped
a little and glanced at the wall clock, which told me I'd been
sitting on the sofa almost-unblinking for well over two hours.  I
roused myself from my zombie-like state and moved to the door,
opening it wide and taking in the sight of a wrinkled, bone-tired and
incredibly appealing Fox Mulder leaning against my door frame.  I
stared into his eyes, red-rimmed and sad as I had never seen them
look before; I reached out a hand to him and pulled him inside, into
my arms.  His own arms were slow to embrace me, but I understood.  My
God... he was grieving; he must have been with her when she...

My poor Fox.  He'd just lost his partner and his best friend - then
he'd come to me in his need and I was honored to be there for him - 

"Oh, Fox.  I'm so sorry.  So sorry.  Was it... did she... oh, Lord. 
Did Dana suffer?  I pray she didn't suffer."  I felt him stiffen
slightly against me as he digested my halting words of comfort, and
then he pulled back a little to peer into my face with a look of
confusion on his.

"Wha -? Lilly... Scully is fine, much better today than last night. 
It was touch and go for a bit, but she managed to sleep some and when
she awoke this morning she had improved greatly."  The shine of quiet
joy in his hazel eyes was unmistakable, and I found myself pinning a
smile on my face as I replied.

"Fox, that's... I'm glad.  Very glad to hear it."  And I was, I told
myself.  Of course I was glad.  With another smile sent in his
direction, this one brighter, I stepped away from his arms when he
released me and turned to shut the door and I led him into the living
room where he collapsed wearily on my sofa.  I perched on the
cushioned arm next to him and stroked the mussed hair off his
forehead as he leaned his head back and sighed.  He did look
exhausted, I thought.  It had obviously been a long night for him.  I
had so many questions to ask him, beginning with an explanation of
his absence all night and most of today.  I parted my lips to speak
but thought better of it - and waited for him to tell me.

"I tried to talk Scully into going to the hospital but she was so
sick from the treatment she'd received; she begged me not to make her
go.  She fainted a couple of times on me - I was so worried about
her.  I couldn't help her, Lilly - she was vomiting and passing out
and in terrible pain and there wasn't a thing I could do for her
except hold her and pray she'd make it through.  And she did, thank
Christ - she made it.  I don't know what I would have done if I'd
lost her, last night."  I made sympathetic noises while Fox talked,
and tried not to feel jealous when the tears filling his eyes spilled
over and ran down his cheeks.  And even as I lambasted myself for
such rotten, selfish thoughts - I was thinking back on over two years 
of giving my all to this man and trying to remember if Fox had ever
cried for me.

Of course, he never had - because I'd never given him a reason to
cry.  I was just his healthy girlfriend... Dana Scully was his
terminally-ill partner.

Damn - there I went, again.  Jealousy was an ugly emotion and did
not become me.  Once more I reminded myself that I had everything
wonderful and good in my life, and Dana was nearing the end of hers. 
Regardless of her improvement last night the fact of her inoperable
tumor still remained.  Her days were numbered...

A few seconds after thinking that uncharitable thought, I
immediately chastised myself in self-loathing.  God, I was so low...
what was the matter with me!  Yes, I was a woman in love, and
insecure about the place I held in my lover's life.  But that was no
excuse for the sway of my thoughts. I cussed myself out so thoroughly
in my mind that I failed to hear Fox's next remark.

"I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to call you, Lilly.  I know you
were worried.  By the time Scully finally fell asleep, it was so
late... I assumed you'd probably be asleep and I would have hated to
wake you."

I gazed into his eyes; they were genuinely contrite.  Relieved, I
moved closer to Fox and he wrapped an arm around me and hugged me
close.  I sighed into his neck, leaning against his comforting warmth
and soaking up the sheer joy of being close to him.  God, I loved
this man so much -!  How I wished I'd been allowed to stay with him
last night when he'd had to tend to Dana.  I lifted my face from his
neck and he bent down to kiss me, the caress of his lips so gentle
and sweet.  I smiled up at him when he released my mouth.

"So, did you sit up all night, keeping watch over Dana?"  It would
be just like Fox to sacrifice sleep for his best friend, I thought -
and it would explain the traces of utter exhaustion I could still
detect in his eyes.  He didn't answer right away - and my smile
slipped a little when I saw a pink flush steal over his handsome
face.  My eyes narrowed; was that a... blush?  I looked closer,
noting the pink getting rosier as it centered high on each of his
cheeks.  It WAS a blush... Fox was blushing and acting flustered. 
And he wasn't looking me directly in the eyes - or answering my
question.  I sat up a little straighter, and stared at the pinkened
face of the man I adored - and I couldn't help but wonder...

Just where the hell HAD Fox slept - at Dana's, last night?

*****************

I didn't get any sleep.  I couldn't relax enough to get drowsy
enough to bypass my thoughts, enough to sleep...  I lay in the
darkness with Lilly beside me, and I thought of another woman, all
night.  

What sort of a bastard did that make me, I wondered?

Lilly wanted to know more about the other night than I was willing
to say.  I found myself being secretive, and rather lousy at it since
I'd really never had to hide anything from a woman before.  This was
the sort of thing you told your best friend... except my best friend
was rapidly becoming something much more than just a friend.  And my
feelings were compounding the predicament - and I am sure Lilly could
tell something was amiss.  I told myself I was still a relatively
free agent - that I had never lied to Lilly or given her any false
hopes.  And I hadn't - I had been honest with her, all this time. 
But that didn't make me feel any better.

I had managed to deflect most of Lilly's curiosity and I hadn't
liked doing that to her - but I could barely stand to think of how
confused I was feeling, much less hold a discussion with my
girlfriend centering around wildly unpredictable feelings for my
partner.  A conversation like that would have gone very bad, very
quickly...

I did the only thing I could think of doing, to stop the questions
and reassure Lilly - and perhaps, myself - that all was as well as it
could be.  I took her into my arms, there on her sofa - and I kissed
her gently.  Softly - carefully.  As lovingly as I could, for of
course I knew she needed to feel loved.  Don't we all... Trouble was,
I couldn't decide how much of what I felt for her was affection and
how much was an attempt to create romantic love between us.  Those
lines, unclear at best these past two years, had become hopelessly
blurred in just a few minutes - those few minutes I'd spent with
Scully in my arms.  

But I tried to put that behind me, I really did.  In the few seconds
before I embraced Lilly, I thought about my options, and tried to
imagine I was not being a selfish prick for doing so.  I kept
chanting to myself, 'Normal life, normal life...' as if it would be
some sort of magical mantra for me.  I saw before me a lovely woman
who had fallen in love with me and was just waiting for a decision
from me.  She would not push me, but her very attitude could
unknowingly send me in one direction or another - because I felt such
deep affection for her and the last thing I wanted to do was cause
her pain.  She wanted to make a future with me - perhaps babies, as
well - and I was willing to throw it all away because I didn't love
her - at least, not yet. 

When I was younger I'd often wondered just how long it would take me
to fall wildly in love with someone.  I don't doubt that 'love at
first sight' truly does exist for some people.  I imagined I would
fall somewhere in between the instant variety and longevity... two
years, to be exact.  I had to face facts:  if I'd been meant to fall
in love with Lilly it would have happened by now.  And although I
couldn't deny my feelings for her, I likewise couldn't ignore the
pain of knowing I was going to lose Scully, just when I had
discovered her.

But Scully would not let me have her.  Not when her future was so
shaky - when she had all but given up on finding a way to prolong
her life. 

Meanwhile, I faced the woman with whom I'd spent the last couple of
years, and knew she deserved far more than I'd been inclined to give
her.  But I would never know for sure about a future with her unless I
was willing to try.  So, I held Lilly and kissed her, feeling the
warmth and affection I always felt when I held her; enjoying her
delicate perfume and the feel of her silky hair under my hand. 
Familiar and dear to me, after two years of being with her... of
course it felt good.  I liked the way her fingers pressed against my
nape and the little sighs she breathed into my mouth as we kissed
more passionately.  I slid down into the sofa cushions and urged her
down next to me.  I wanted to show Lilly how I felt - I needed to let
her know that my affection for her ran deep.

Affection.  That's what it was, that's all I needed.  This I told
myself as I slipped my hands underneath her sweater and caressed her
breasts.  Soft, sweet breasts, rounded and full.  So much different
than - 

Shit!  Don't do this; don't go there, Asshole!  I closed my eyes and
concentrated on the lovely woman in my arms; the one who deserved all
my focus.  I could give her this, I thought - as I touched her and
caressed her and felt the way her breathing hitched and heard her
sighs.  I could give Lilly my focus and my caring and maybe - just
maybe - it would be enough.

Making love to Lilly had always been such a tender experience; she
was giving and generous and always made me feel very good.  I liked
being the center of her world, even though I sometimes felt guilt at
not being able to return the level of love she directed at me.  I had
never worried overmuch, when we made love, if my emotions were not as
minutely engaged.  I always figured it would come, that magical day
when I would look into her eyes and know I'd found my soul-mate.  I
always hoped such a moment would happen for me...

But I'd assumed it would happen with Lilly.  And it hadn't... and I
think she knew it.  But I tried, I really did - and she let me try. 
She responded to my kisses and my caresses and when I removed her
clothes she smiled at me with warm eyes and kissed me when I slipped
into her body.  I think she knew I wasn't completely with her, though
- at about the same moment I realized it too.  When I looked into her
eyes as I sank slowly within her; as I wound my fingers into her hair
and for several tell-tale moments I imagined my hands were winnowed
into red locks, instead of brown.  When for more long seconds I
stared into eyes that I tricked myself into believing were blue...
and as I thrust I fought the image floating before my tightly-closed
lids because in all my adult life I had never made love to one woman
while thinking of another... 

Not until now.  God, not until this moment.

Later I lay next to her and stared up at the ceiling and wondered if
she'd suspected that I'd had Scully in my mind even as I'd held Lilly
next to my pounding heart and underneath my driving body.  That it
had been Scully's face I'd seen when I'd shuddered in the throes of
my climax; Scully's name I'd bit back from shouting.  That I felt
like an utter shit for making love to one woman while I was dying
inside for another -

I could never let her know.  The guilt would kill me and cause her
so much pain - I would never tell her.  I would find a way to live
with the guilt I already felt; my punishment for what I saw as a
betrayal.  

I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep - and waited for morning.

*******************
end of chapter six

********************