...Where It Hurts (Sequel to "She Loves Me Not") (1/3)
by Jo-Ann Lassiter
Email Address: jolassi555@cs.com 
Spoiler Warning:  None
Rating: PG-13 
Classification: S, A
Key Words: Mulder/Scully Romance
Summary: Scully has told Mulder that she loves him. Yet, when her
actions contradict her words, doubts are raised in Mulder's mind.
Author's Notes: There is the bare bones of an X-File here... just
enough to advance the *real* story, which is the romance between
M&S. Please don't look for any lengthy explanations of the
"monster" because there won't be any. What there will be, however,
is lots and lots of characterization. I hope you enjoy it!
Thanks: To Martha and Rachel for their help, and especially to
Gerry for putting up with numerous read-throughs and not
complaining (much).

Twin Forks Lodge
Outside of Denver, Colorado
Thursday
6:04 a.m.

"Hello?"

Even though she spoke softly and was halfway across the room,
Mulder came wide awake as soon as he heard Scully's voice. He noted
that she'd changed into her pajamas after all, and was struggling
to get into her robe while balancing the telephone receiver between
her ear and her shoulder.

"What's the address?" She glanced over at him, pulling the robe
closed and cinching the belt.

"What's--" His raspy attempt at a question was cut off abruptly by
Scully's upraised finger. 

"Perkins," she mouthed. "Yes. Both of us," she said into the phone.
Another glance at him. "I don't know; I haven't had time to ask
him, but I'm sure he'll want to come along, regardless." She smiled
at him, then her face reddened and she turned away, walking as far
away from him as she could possibly get and still remain in the
same room. "Of course, I did," he heard her say. "I was tired,
that's all."

Mulder blinked. Did Scully just lie about why she'd ended her date
with Andrew Perkins so early?

"Look, can we discuss this later?" She listened a few seconds and
then she disconnected. Her back still to him, she sighed deeply,
then turned around. "That was Andrew Perkins."

Mulder nodded. "So you said."

She stared into his eyes for a second. "There's been another
death."

He couldn't say he was surprised. "Same as the others?"

She nodded. "He wants us there as soon as possible."

Mulder bounded out of bed. "Well, then let's--" The rest of the
thought was lost as the room spun sickeningly around him; he sat
down quickly on the bed. "Shit," he muttered.

He felt Scully at his side a second later. "Mulder?"

"I'm okay," he said, his voice sounding like it was coming through
a tunnel from the other end of the universe. "Got up too fast," he
panted, fighting not to faint.

"Come on. Head between your knees." The fuzziness wasn't clearing,
so he didn't resist when Scully pushed down on the back of his
neck.

After an interminable amount of time, he felt the dizziness abate,
and his senses woke to the fact that Scully was holding on to him
with one hand while rubbing his back with the other. "Hey," he
said, nudging her lightly.

She let go immediately, and he sat up. "Feeling better?" she asked.

Truth to tell, he wasn't feeling much of an improvement over last
night, but he knew her question was directly related to the
light-headedness, and that was thankfully gone. "Yeah." He started
to take a deep breath, but had it cut short when he felt a stabbing
pain in his chest. 

Scully didn't miss it. "What's wrong?"

He decided he'd better come clean. "I'm a little congested. Can't
inhale too deeply."

She nodded. "Do you feel well enough to go to the crime scene?"

He didn't, really, but the case intrigued him, and this would be
his first glimpse at a fresh corpse; as gruesome as it sounded, he
always worked better from firsthand evidence rather than from the
secondhand findings of a report. "I'm fine, Scully." At her look of
skepticism, he gave a sheepish smile. "I may beg off a little
early, but I'm okay."

She touched the back of her hand to his forehead. "You still feel
warm, Mulder. Maybe you should stay here."

He wasn't sure how to take that. Hadn't she just told Perkins that
he'd want to see the scene, no matter how he felt? Was she really
concerned for his health, or did she just want to talk to Perkins
without her partner in the way? Was she trying to spare Perkins'
feelings? Or his?

Starting to feel ill from the idea that Scully might be having
second thoughts about her feelings for him, Mulder stood up--a lot
slower than before--and walked toward the bathroom. "I'm going to
take a shower." He paused at the door and turned around to face
her. "I'll meet you back here in... twenty minutes?"

At her reluctant nod of assent, he broke eye contact and fled
behind the safety of the bathroom door. 

What was wrong with him? He trusted Scully with his work, with his
friendship... hell, he trusted her with his life.

Why couldn't he trust her with his heart?

*****

Crime Scene
Robinson Playground
Thursday
6:50 a.m.

Scully offered to drive, and Mulder took her up on it. He'd taken
a new brand of cold capsule and discovered that he was in the three
percent to whom "no drowsiness" did not apply. He felt his lids
drooping lower and lower with each passing mile.

The car stopped, and he forced his eyes open. He popped the lock
and exited the car before Scully got a chance to grill him; the
cold air was invigorating, and he felt the lethargy dissipating. He
waited for Scully to come around to his side of the car, and then
they walked to the taped-off area together.

When Mulder dared a glance at Scully, he learned that he needn't
have worried about her taking him to task about his cold; her mind
was a million miles away.

Smiling a bit at how antsy she looked to get her hands on the body,
he followed her gaze, stopping dead when his eyes settled on the
true source of her anxiety. Andrew Perkins smiled in delight,
stepping forward to take Scully's hands in his.

Mulder's chest felt tight as he watched Scully return Perkins'
smile; her hands grasped his with the familiarity of an old friend.
Or lover.

He was aware that he was staring, yet he couldn't make himself look
away. Only when Perkins' gaze left Scully's to eye him warily was
he able to turn away and search for something else upon which to
focus his attention.

"How do you manage to look so lovely at this ungodly hour, Dana?"
he heard Perkins ask his partner.

Her answering laugh didn't sound at all uncomfortable as he'd
expected--and hoped. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the
warmth he heard in that laugh. "Six years working with Mulder," she
said. "Being dragged off to crime scenes at all hours. I've got the
routine down to a science." 

"Maybe it's time for a change," Perkins said, softly. "Have you
thought about what I asked you?"

Mulder's breath caught in his throat. What could Perkins have asked
her that would engender a change in her life? Marriage? Promotion?
...Transfer? He hurried away, over to the corpse; he didn't want to
hear her answer.

As he stood over the body, he could hardly believe that it held
absolutely no interest to him. The only thought echoing through his
brain was that Scully might leave him. That Scully might actually
be considering leaving him.

Kneeling by the corpse, automatically pulling on a pair of latex
gloves, Mulder tried to shut out the buzz of conversation around
him, and especially that of Scully and Perkins. As he prodded and
poked and pushed on the body, his mind gradually focused its
attention on the crime, on the fact that only hours before, this
corpse had been a beautiful, vibrant, young woman.

How could he be thinking of his love life when there was a woman
dead here, for Christ's sake? This was a human being lying dead in
front of him, her throat ripped to shreds, and all he could think
about was how comfortable, how natural Scully looked with Andrew
Perkins? How they were still talking and laughing and touching...

Mulder stood up abruptly, peeling off the gloves and dropping them
on the ground. He walked briskly toward some bushes at the far end
of the playground, then stood by them and stared at the baseball
field beyond. 

That took him back. Little League. Winning the championship that
last summer before Samantha was taken. She'd been so proud of him,
her big brother, making the game-winning catch.

Five months later, she was gone. Would Scully soon be gone, too?

A hand tapped him on the shoulder, and he jerked under the touch.
"Scully?"

"No, sir, it's me. Brad Jonas." The eager young agent had taken to
calling him sir, and nothing Mulder said could dissuade him. "I saw
you out here away from the others," he said. "Did you find
something?" Mulder could tell he was trying to contain his
excitement.

Mulder sighed. God, he remembered himself at that age, peppering
the senior agents with questions. When had he become one of the old
timers? "No," he finally answered. "I just wanted someplace quiet
to do a little thinking."

Mulder watched as the wind went out of Jonas's sails. "Oh. Then you
want to be alone?" The agent's tone left no doubt in Mulder's mind
that that was the last thing he wanted confirmed.

"I'd appreciate it, yes," Mulder said. He hated to brush off the
youngster, but he was in no mood to play mentor.

"Oh," Jonas said again. "Okay. I'll tell Agent Scully."

"What?" Mulder's head snapped around. "Why are you going to tell
Agent Scully?"

Jonas looked a little hopeful. "Oh, she was wondering what you were
doing."

"Did she ask you to find out?"

Jonas gave him a curious look, then shook his head. "Uh... she
wasn't actually talking to me. She was talking to ASAC Perkins."
Jonas brightened. "He seems to really like your partner, doesn't
he?"

"Yeah," Mulder mumbled.

"And it looks like she goes for him, too."

Mulder squared off against the agent. "Why do you say that?"

"Because..." Sweat broke out on Jonas's forehead, and he looked
behind him nervously. "Maybe I was mistaken. I just thought..."

Realizing that he was intimidating the young agent, Mulder backed
off, purposely relaxing his body to a non-threatening pose. "I'm
sorry, Brad." He forced a smile. "Scully's my partner. I don't want
to see her hurt."

Some of the tension left Jonas's shoulders, and a glimmer of
understanding entered his eyes. If he only knew, Mulder thought
glumly. The young agent nodded, smiling tentatively. "I don't think
you have anything to worry about there, sir."

"Oh?" Mulder asked, as casually as he could with his heart rate
tripled and his fists clenched tightly in his pockets. 

Visibly more at ease now, Jonas glanced back at the crime scene;
Mulder followed the man's gaze, then wished like hell that he
hadn't. Scully was kneeling by the body, Perkins beside her, hand
on her back, while she examined the corpse. He asked her a
question, and she gave him her response around a smile. Mulder
looked away quickly.

"Perkins lost his wife two years ago, sir. Cancer." 

Mulder winced inwardly, and felt the old, familiar pang in his gut,
the one he got every time he thought about how close he had come to
losing Scully. He wondered if the pain he was feeling at this
moment was for then--or for now?

"He hasn't looked at another woman since then," Jonas continued. He
smiled shyly. "Until your partner." Something in Mulder's demeanor
caused the young agent to swallow hard. "He was very faithful to
his wife, I heard. Right to the end." Jonas was getting nervous
again, his gaze darting from Mulder to the crime scene and back
again. "I... I should leave you alone now, sir," Jonas said,
backing away. "I'm sorry I bothered you."

"No, no... It's all right, Brad. I'm feeling a little under the
weather." He gave a weak smile. "I'm not the most social person
under the best of circumstances..." He sighed.

Jonas took a cautious step forward. "I've heard a lot about you,
Agent Mulder." The man paused, his body language clearly signaling
discomfort.

"Most of it not good, I'd imagine."

The young agent scraped the ground with the side of his shoe. "Some
of it," he said, keeping a close eye on his foot. "A lot of it,
actually."

Despite himself, Mulder was curious. "Then why..." He trailed off.
No matter how he put it, he was sure it would sound egotistical.

"Because I like to make up my own mind," Jonas answered, his tone
no longer that of the adoring student, but one of conviction.

Mulder smiled resignedly and nodded his head. "Well, have I
impressed the hell out of you so far?"

Jonas stared at him for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Yes, sir.
You sure have, Agent Mulder."

It was Mulder's turn to stare. "For God's sake, why?"

The young agent's expression softened. "You turned this whole case
around. In less than a day you gave them a whole new perspective
from which to pursue it."

"You may not have noticed, Agent Jonas, but they weren't exactly
receptive to my theory."

Jonas blew out an angry breath, and it surprised Mulder enough for
him to back up a step. "Do you want to know how petty they are?"
Jonas asked. "They gave you the brush-off when you told them about
it, didn't they?" Mulder nodded. "After you left, though, they
began kicking it around, and guess what? It blew everything they
had thought up to that point out of the water. They're proceeding
on *your* theory now."

Mulder blinked. Scully had been there, yet she'd made no mention of
it to him. Even if she thought his "demon from hell running amok"
hypothesis ridiculous, she might have told him that the others were
at least considering it.

"Was Agent Scully aware of this?"

Jonas shrugged. "I don't know. I was out getting dinner for
everyone. By the time I got back, the discussion was in full
swing." He met Mulder's eyes. "Your partner and Perkins were gone,"
he added softly.

Mulder stiffened at the thought of Scully and Perkins together. He
gritted his teeth and took a deep breath; he was reminded quite
painfully of why he shouldn't do that.

"Agent Mulder, are you all right? Should I get Agent Scully?"

"No!" Mulder said. Then, a little calmer. "I'm okay. It's just a
chest cold." The last thing he wanted was to be a nuisance to
Scully when she was still trying to make up her mind as to which
suitor she preferred. Her assurances last night contradicted her
actions today, and as much as it hurt, he had to give her the space
she needed to work things out.

"Are you sure? You're really not looking too well."

Mulder forced a smile. "I'm really not feeling too well, but I'm
okay. Really."

Jonas nodded, not taking his eyes off Mulder; he looked like he was
studying him for the big test.

"You were telling me about the other agents..." Mulder said,
getting back onto the original subject. "They've changed tack?"

"Yes, sir." 

"They're ascribing to the theory that we're not dealing with a
person, but with some sort of demon?" Mulder asked, incredulous.

"Well... not exactly. But they no longer think it's the work of a
serial killer, or even a human being. They think it's some sort of
animal."

Mulder met Jonas's eyes. "An animal who rapes its victims, leaving
an unidentifiable substance in place of semen?"

Jonas hunched his shoulders. "I'm the new guy, Agent Mulder. They
don't ask my opinion much."

Mulder blew out a breath; all this worry about Scully had him
coming down hard on the young agent. "I know." He gave Jonas the
barest hint of a smile. "Sorry."

Jonas shook it off. "There's nothing to apologize for, sir. I
think... I think if I were in your position, I'd be a little upset,
too." With that, the agent threw a significant gaze in the
direction of Scully--and Perkins. 

Glancing only long enough to determine the direction of Jonas's
interest, Mulder's eyes met the young agent's again. Jonas knew.
Christ, they hadn't even slept together yet, and Mulder was
radiating an aura of 'Hands off! She's mine!' "Brad, if you don't
mind..."

Jonas got it immediately. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry to have bothered
you." And he walked away.

Mulder was upset with himself. He'd been careless. He'd allowed his
feelings for his partner to interfere with his job. And he'd
practically cried on the green agent's shoulder. Did it get any
more pathetic than that?

He shivered and pulled his coat tighter, fastening the top button
and turning up his collar. Damn, it was cold out here. One of those
fuzzy hats with the ear flaps was sounding pretty appealing right
about now.

Teeth chattering in time to the pounding in his head, he walked
back toward the crime scene, veering away from it when he saw
Perkins still velcroed to Scully. As he headed for the car, he
wished he had driven so he'd be the possessor of the car keys. He
would kill to have warm air blasting at his frozen body.

Huddled in the passenger seat, his eyes on two particular FBI
agents, a picture of Perkins 
in bed with his partner came to mind. It struck him that this could
very possibly come to be. Then it struck him that perhaps it
already had. Scully had known Perkins since her college days. Had
they been more than friends? Were they becoming so again?

As he watched, Scully broke out of the pack of agents, making her
way to the car. She looked peeved, and Mulder couldn't blame her.
He'd been anti-social again, leaving her to make nice with the
other agents.

His fears evaporated, however, when she smiled at him; maybe things
weren't as bleak as he was imagining them.

She got in the car and turned toward him. "Find anything out
there?"

He shook his head. "You?"

"I'll know more after the autopsy, but she was definitely raped.
And although it looks like the crime was committed right there,
there are no tracks except hers."

Mulder nodded. He hadn't expected there would be any.

"You know what this is, don't you, Mulder?"

"I have an idea, but I need to do some more research."

She nodded, then inserted the key and started the car. She pulled
onto the road, and they drove in silence for a few minutes.

"Do you want to get something to eat before the autopsy?" Mulder
asked.

When she didn't answer, Mulder looked at her. "Er... I can't," she
finally answered. "I told Andy I'd have breakfast with him."

Mulder's hands suddenly fascinated the hell out of him as he stared
at them in his lap. "Oh."

She reached over and covered his hands with her free hand. "I'd
much rather go with you. You know that, don't you?"

He didn't look up. "Sure," he said in a small voice.

"I couldn't get out of it. We were surrounded by his men, and the
way he put it... I just couldn't say no without embarrassing him."

"It's all right," he said, in a quiet voice.

"Mulder, I'm so sorry." Her hand squeezed his. "Why don't you come
with us?"

He gave a sardonic grin. "I'm not much of a third wheel, Scully."

He wanted to ask her why, if she loved him, she was going on
another date with Perkins. And why was Perkins still pursuing her?
Obviously, he needed it spelled out for him, and Scully wasn't
doing that. Why wasn't she?

He turned toward the window and watched the rain begin to fall.

*****

Denver Regional Office
Thursday
1:50 p.m.

While the Denver agents pursued their line of investigation, Mulder
doggedly worked at his. When Mulder had asked for an agent to
assist him, the ASAC offered up Brad Jonas, his most inexperienced
agent and, from Mulder's observations, resident outcast. Mulder
accepted the offer gladly. Not fitting in with the rest of those
dolts was a point in Jonas's favor.

Since he had had no breakfast companion, Mulder had decided to skip
it and get right to work. They'd put him in a disused conference
room in the cold, deserted basement (of course), and after five and
a half hours, it looked like he'd been there for weeks. Street
maps, charts, crime scene photos, and lists covered every available
bit of wall space.

Mulder was almost certain he knew what they were dealing with.
Proving it would be another matter. Getting Perkins to give it some
credence, yet another. 

He glanced up from the table where he was compiling his notes.
Scully should have been done with the autopsy by now. "Say, Brad,
have we gotten a copy of the autopsy results on the latest victim?"

"Right here." Jonas picked up a folder and walked it over to him.

Confused, Mulder leafed through the file. "How long ago was this
delivered?"

"Agent Scully brought it by about an hour ago."

"Agent Scully was here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Where did she go?"

Jonas hesitated; when he looked up, his face was a mask of
sympathy. "She went to lunch."

"Lunch?" He wondered what time it was.

"Uh, yes, sir. She'd just begun to read through your other
notes..." Jonas indicated a file folder at the other end of the
table. "...when the ASAC came and got her. He said to tell you not
to expect her for awhile."

Mulder tried very hard not to react, but he felt like someone had
slapped him across the face. 

Someone.

Scully.

He nodded stiffly, lowering his head to at least give the pretense
of reading the report. Halfway through the first paragraph, he
noticed how excruciatingly full his bladder was; Mulder thought
he'd better do something about it. Closing the report, he tossed it
onto the table and stood up. 

The entire room winked out, then winked back in, then wavered
somewhere in between. He gripped the edge of the table tightly,
hoping that Jonas hadn't noticed his drunken sailor imitation. 

"Agent Mulder?" 

Mulder licked his lips and answered as strongly as he could.
"Yeah?"

"Are... all... ight...? 

It wasn't getting any better, and Mulder had to get out of here.
"Yeah." He swallowed. "Fine." His eyes latched onto the door, and
he made his legs move toward it. "Be right back," he muttered.

He saw Jonas glance at the empty coffee cups scattered throughout
the room. They were all Mulder's. "Oh. Right."

Once safely on the other side of the door, Mulder realized he had
no idea where the men's room was. Jesus. No wonder he felt like he
was about to burst. Five hours of drinking coffee without a
bathroom break. 

The corridor darkened, and Mulder was guessing that it wasn't due
to a power failure. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Where the hell was that men's
room?

A movement off to his left caught his attention, and through his
clouded vision he saw what looked like a woman coming his way. Not
wondering nor caring why anyone in their right mind would be down
here, he addressed her. "Excuse me," he said, and she stopped.
"Could you tell me where the men's room is?" He prayed he didn't
look as frantic as he felt.

"Mulder, are you all right?" she asked, instead of answering his
question.

"Scully?" He squinted down at her, trying to make out her features.

"What's wrong?" she asked him.

Mulder was beyond caring about decorum. "I need a men's room,
Scully."

She took hold of his arm. "Mulder, you need to sit down. You look
like you're about to faint."

He broke out of her grip, almost stumbling against her in the
process. "Scully, do you or do you not know where the men's room
is?"

"Mulder. Come. Sit." She tried to pull him toward the room he'd
just left.

Stopping just short of stomping his foot on the floor, Mulder
grabbed her by the shoulders. "Men's room. Now."

She looked shocked for a moment, then snapped out of it. "I have no
idea." She looked around at the yellowed walls, the dusty floors.
"Are you sure there's one down here?"

Mulder's mouth dropped open, and he stared at her. He hadn't
considered that.

Gazing at him in sympathy, Scully patted his arm. "Wait here. I'll
look around."

Biting his lip, Mulder nodded. "Hurry, please."

Nodding, she trotted down the deserted hallway, pausing in front of
a door about thirty feet down. After checking to the end of the
corridor, she went back to the door. She pushed it open and peered
inside, then walked swiftly back to him. "No men's room in sight,
but there's a ladies room, and it looks like it's kept up." 

He nodded shakily. "Is anyone in there?" 

She shook her head. "I don't think it's used too often."

"All right, then." He started toward it, then gasped as the floor
seemed to give way.

Scully's hand gripping his elbow brought him back to reality. "Are
you dizzy, Mulder?"

"Yeah," he said, breathless. 

"Do you want me to come in with you?"

That was the last thing he wanted, but unfortunately it was what he
needed. "Um... yeah."

He allowed her to escort him to the door and walk him inside, but
he balked as they entered a stall. "I'll be all right by myself,"
he said, very quietly.

"Are you sure?" she asked. 

He laughed giddily. "No."

She smiled at him. "Do you mind if I wait back there?" Her eyes
flicked to the row of sinks.

He wasn't happy with the idea, but he could live with it. And he
couldn't afford to get into an argument over it. "Okay."
She backed out, and he locked the door. Fumbling with his zipper,
he finally managed to free himself, sighing in relief as the pain
began to ease. 

Once his mind was able to focus on something other than his
all-encompassing need, Mulder began to feel self-conscious. Well.
Hadn't he presented the picture of every woman's dream. Scully must
be simply itching to jump into bed with a man who can't even
remember to go to the bathroom on his own--and who had to be
babysat when he did.

Suddenly, though, he was glad for her presence. He managed one
weak, "Scully..." before the room blinked out.

*****

Denver Field Office Basement
Ladies Room
Thursday
2:05 p.m.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Mulder heard the click of a door
being unlocked right before it opened and he tumbled out. He'd
always assumed those "safety locks" on the outside of bathroom
stalls were for parents to rescue trapped children, not for FBI
agents to recover inept partners. Well, this ought to have clinched
it: Scully was sure to choose him in the Mulder/Perkins race. 

He moaned at the feel of her hands digging into his armpits. Maybe
he should just concede defeat and put himself--and her--out of this
misery.

"Mulder? Are you awake?"

His 'yes, I am,' sounded like, "Mnrph" to his ears.

"It's okay. Lie still. I'm going to get a wet paper towel for your
head."

He moaned again and tried to roll onto his side. His head was
pounding, and the cold, hard tile was cranking up the tempo to
unbearable heights.

"Mulder, lie still." Scully's voice came from across the room.

"Floor hurts," he mumbled, "my head." Reaching up, he wrapped his
arms so that they covered his ears.

Feeling someone tugging at his arms, he realized that Scully was
trying to tell him something. "Mulder, your head's not on the floor
anymore. You can let go now. I need you to lie on your back so I
can check your eyes. Can you do that?"

"Uh, huh," he said, releasing his hold and moving onto his back; he
was surprised to find himself half off the floor, on Scully's lap.

"Good." He felt her hands on his cheeks. "Do you know what
happened?" she asked.

Opening his eyes, he looked up her. "I passed out?" 

"Do you know why?"

He reached up to cradle his head. "My own stupid fault."

"What do you mean?" she asked gently.

"I forgot. Took the cold pills on an empty stomach." He grimaced.
"I guess coffee doesn't count."

She shook her head. "No. It doesn't." Her hand had been caressing
his face, and now it stopped. "You didn't eat? All day?"

He shook his head slowly. "Wasn't hungry."

"Do you think you can eat something now? We can go get some lunch."

"I thought you ate already," he said, looking away. "With Perkins."

She maneuvered his face so that he had to meet her eyes. "It wasn't
*only* Perkins. I went to lunch with all the agents."

He was confused. "Why would Jonas think--"

"Because Andy can't take a hint." She scowled. "He's really
starting to piss me off, acting like I'm his property--"

"Are you?"

She stared at him, dumbfounded. "What do you mean by that?"

He closed his eyes. "Earlier today, he told you... I heard him
telling you that maybe it was time for a change." Opening his eyes,
he sought out hers. "What did he ask you, Scully?"

When she couldn't meet his eyes, he felt his throat constrict.
"After this case, he's being promoted to SAC of the Indianapolis
Office. He asked me to be his ASAC."

Mulder wanted to throw up. How could he ask her to give that up?
What could he offer her in comparison? Abduction, paranoia and
death. Every girl's dream.

"I told him 'no.'"

Mulder's head jerked up. "What?"

"I told him I had a job I loved, and a partner..." She brushed her
hand through his hair lightly. "A partner I'm not prepared to
leave." She kissed his forehead. "Ever."

"But, I... Today I saw... You looked so comfortable with him,
Scully." He looked away. "And he looked very comfortable with you."

"He's a friend," she said, softly. "I'm comfortable with that, and
so was he..." She trailed off.

"Until his wife died," Mulder finished.

Scully blew out a breath. "After all he's been through, I don't
want to hurt him." She moved a little closer to him and caressed
his face. "But I'm hurting you." Her face was a picture of remorse.
"And while I like him, Mulder, it's you I love."

Mulder felt like a jerk. How could he have doubted her? Why did he
*still* doubt her? Why was some small part of him still scared of
losing her? "I'm sorry, Scully. I'm dealing with this the best I
can." He looked at her imploringly. "I find it difficult to be
objective where you're concerned. I find it difficult watching you
with him, thinking of the two of you together..." He shuddered. "My
imagination runs wild, and you know how scary that can be." He gave
a weak grin.

She returned his smile. "Scary," she agreed. "And dangerous." She
hugged him. "And very understandable."

"I just want this case to be over so we can go home," he whispered.
"I want to be where I'm the one to touch you, the one to laugh with
you, the one you smile for."

Puzzlement and then comprehension played over her face. She let out
a soft breath and closed her eyes; when she opened them, her eyes
were bright with tears. "I haven't been there for you much lately,
have I?"

He looked away. "It's okay."

"You're lying through your teeth, Mulder."

"Yeah," he said, very softly. Gazing up, he met her eyes. "But it
really is okay. You've got to work this thing out with Perkins." He
shivered. "And I've got to get off this floor. I'm freezing."

He started to raise himself, then remembered where he'd been and
what he'd been doing when he'd passed out. He looked down at his
pants--his *no-longer-unzipped* pants--then he looked up. Scully
followed his line of sight, then met his eyes.

She smiled, then kissed his cheek. "Just a small service I was
happy to provide."

He knew he should have been mortified that Scully had had to "tuck"
him in, but he found himself immensely turned on. Whether it was
the thought of the action itself or her comment on the subject, he
couldn't tell. 

He only knew that however cold the floor might have felt earlier,
as of this moment it wasn't cold enough.

*****

The Blue Danube Diner
Thursday
3:04 p.m.

"Ahh... That sure hit the spot." Mulder pushed the bowl of what was
formerly vegetable soup to the center of the table. Picking up his
half-eaten cheeseburger, he took a good-sized bite.

"Well, there's certainly nothing wrong with your appetite," Scully
remarked from the seat beside him.

Mulder felt his face heating up. If he hadn't been acting the
martyr, he wouldn't have ended up on the bathroom floor, and Scully
wouldn't have had to have played nursemaid to him; it was *not* the
role he envisioned her portraying with him. He swallowed, then
turned to face her. "Scully, I'm sorry about earlier. If I hadn't
been feeling so sorry for myself--"

"Let me clue you in on something, Mulder," she interrupted. "I was
perfectly aware of what my being with Andy was doing to you. I felt
powerless to stop it, but that doesn't mean I didn't know how it
would affect you. So you had every right to feel sorry for
yourself." She gazed into his eyes with the saddest look he'd ever
seen. "I did."

He had no response to that, so he was grateful when Brad Jonas
rejoined them in the booth. After his little escapade in the ladies
room, Mulder had stopped into the "war room" to retrieve his jacket
and invited Jonas to have lunch with him and Scully. Jonas had
accepted gratefully, and the three had trekked across the street to
the Blue Danube Diner at Jonas's recommendation.

While Jonas had relaxed somewhat around Mulder, he got the
impression that the young man wasn't entirely at ease. Mulder
genuinely liked this agent who showed so much promise and so had
been on his best behavior. It just didn't seem to be working,
though.

So here he sat, Scully on one side telling him that she felt sorry
for him, and Jonas across from him, looking for all the world like
he expected Mulder to lean across the table and swat him like the
pesky insect he was. 

Mulder sighed. This was turning into the lunch from hell. Scully
was sulking beside him, Jonas was sulking in front of him, and
Mulder was just sulking. His cheeseburger lost its appeal, and he
pushed it away.

"So, how's the investigation coming?" Scully's question was
addressed to both Jonas and himself.

The young agent had been studying his sandwich, but he looked up
expectantly at Scully's question. Mulder decided to let him field
it. Catching Jonas's eye, he nodded that Jonas should go ahead and
fill Scully in.

"Well, we've drawn up a chart," Jonas began, " and we're getting
close to establishing a pattern." He glanced at Mulder. "Agent
Mulder thinks that by this time tomorrow, we'll be able to make a
pretty good guess as to when he'll strike next. Possibly even who."

"A few 'who's,' actually," Mulder supplied. "We think we've
identified the types of people it's going after..." Mulder ignored
Scully's sigh and Jonas's restless shifting at the 'it.' "...so we
may be able to narrow it down to a couple of dozen possibles."

"That's great," Scully said, and she sounded very pleased, "but
you're still proceeding on the basis that we're dealing with some
sort of monster?"

"Demon," Mulder corrected.

"Okay. Demon. Do you still think it's not a human committing these
murders?"

He knew where she was going. "It's not an animal, either, Scully.
There is purpose and there is motive behind these attacks."

"Couldn't it just be an animal attacking whenever it gets hungry?"

Mulder shook his head. "These people weren't eaten. They were
brutally ravaged, but it was in no way out of a physical hunger."
He stressed the word, 'physical.'

"What about a rabid animal, then?"

Mulder nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose that's a possibility. It
would have to be a large animal, and with the mountains so close
by..." He shrugged. "I have the feeling that it's something else,
though. Something... sinister."

Scully raised an eyebrow. "Shades of Boris Karloff?"

Mulder smiled, then shuddered. "There's something evil about this
perp, and the closer I get to figuring what it is, the more it
creeps me out. I feel that as I'm getting closer to him, he's
getting closer to me."

That worried look came over Scully's face, the one she always got
when she thought he was starting to identify too closely with the
killer. In all honesty, he couldn't say it was unwarranted in this
case.

"It's why you're so good at it." Brad Jonas's quiet proclamation
broke into the silent conversation Mulder and Scully were holding.
"Your ability to put yourself in their shoes, to see things from
their viewpoint." He looked across at Mulder, and Mulder felt
embarrassed--and gratified--by the open admiration in the other
man's eyes.

Mulder nodded. "As they say: it's a gift and a curse."

"Either way, it exacts a high price," Scully added quietly.

Mulder lowered his gaze to the table. The cost *would* be high, but
with Scully by his side he could weather the worst of it and come
out relatively unscathed.

The big question remained, however: With Perkins actively pursuing
her, and her unwillingness to just dump the man, *would* she be
there for him?

*****

End 1/3