It’s 2:00 AM and I bet it’s still over 100 degrees outside. Here in my sterile living room, it’s a comfortable 78. Everything is rather blurry. I don’t need my glasses to find the cabinet where I keep the bottle of fine scotch that Doggett gave me on my last birthday.

I sprawl across the sofa, naked save for my boxers, the heavy rock glass cool on my skin where I rest it on my chest. The only sound I can really discern is the whisper of the central air. I don’t need to see the shadows of my life away from the office, but they are there: a television set complete with 180 channels that I can’t stand to watch for more than 30 minutes at a time, a desk and computer, a lounge chair and one bookcase. Outside, there are a few lights on in the buildings around me. A jagged white strike across the sky heralds the thunderstorm the weathermen have been predicting for the last three days.

Weathermen. We still have weathermen and all manner of talking heads. The ‘End’, as with all such ends in human history, was really just a blip on the historical radar. The apparent outcome will have fewer lines in the history books than World War II. Poor Mulder. As with most of the cases he discovered on the X-Files, like Flukeman, and Tooms and Modell he was right about the aliens and the super soldiers. But in the final analysis, no one really cared.

The aliens came, they saw, they left. No one knows why. I was in the war room at the Pentagon the day they approached from Mars. Damn, there were a lot of ships. We all knew we were toast. The President told General Bennett to scramble every US fighter plane. Missiles were aimed. We received word from our allies and our enemies across the globe that they had done the same. For one brief moment the entire world was united against a common foe. Maybe that was it. Or maybe the bastards saw our determination to use every weapon at our disposal to fight them. We would have left the planet decimated for most life, maybe even for them. Whatever the reason, they hung there over the northern hemisphere for three days assessing, doing nothing. And on the dawn on the fourth day, they were gone. We lost ten million people worldwide in the panic, though. The cleanup from that sent the economy into a nosedive that we’re still recovering from five years later.

I thought I would have heard from them afterwards. I didn’t. Doggett did though, and he let me know they were okay, but still fighting to expose the super soldiers. Hell, we all were, but I guess old practices are hard to give up. It had always been the two of them - Mulder and Scully - against the world, the bureaucracy, me.

I sip the scotch and let it burn down my throat. I almost choke with laughter when something that has been niggling at the back of my brain finally comes to the surface. "Shit, the government built them, Mulder. You should have realized that they would eventually fail." I stand up to get a closer blurry look at the lightning show outside my window. A side trip to the cabinet to refill the glass and I return to my seat.

I had always envied Mulder. From the day I met him I knew he would be a force to be reckoned with. I lift my glass in salute. "A fucking force of nature is Fox Mulder." He had it all. Dark good looks, a mind that could grasp the most complex of issues (one not too good at simple shit sometimes), hair, and Dana Katherine Scully. I envied something else though – at least in the beginning. His dedication to what he thought was right. Dear God, the man was a pit bull terror. I giggle at my mental slip. I do giggle – sometimes – inside where no one else can hear. And like all the great prophets of the past, Mulder ranted, railed and shouted until enough people heard him and believed. Even people like Alvin Kersh, who hated Mulder’s guts, gave up his life to protect the cocky little bastard.

Alvin, who loved his wife and kids; Alvin, whose balls were more firmly in the vise grip of the shadow government’s conspiracy than mine ever were, risked everything to get Mulder out of that prison and certain death. John and I couldn’t have done it on our own. But Alvin came through. Three days later while stuck in traffic in the middle of K Street, three supposed gangbangers walked up to his car and pumped thirty rounds into him. Funny thing. We never found the perps, and gangbangers are usually easy to find.

John and I knew we were next. Monica was scared damn near shitless but she stuck by him - by me, too. But they never came for us. Maybe they thought we had been rendered impotent. Fortunately, even the bad guys can be really, really wrong. Doggett, Reyes and I found the secret research facility but it was empty. We waited for months for some word, some whisper of activity to point the way. I finally pulled out all the stops, calling in every favor ever owed me. Making meetings with the people most likely to hear rumblings about secret Black Ops teams being formed or tested.

For years my life seemed to revolve around keeping Mulder and Scully safe. That’s hard to do when you have no real target to go after. The black-lunged bastard, for a very long time at least, knew he was safe from my wrath. First the threat to my wife, which he carried out – or in the end couldn’t prevent from being carried out. Then the nanocytes he had Krycek infect me with. Finally, the threat to young William Scully – or whatever his new name is.

My sigh joins the air-conditioner cycle. Who am I kidding? It had always been Dana I wanted to protect – from the assassins who ended up killing her sister, from Mulder’s most outrageous quests, from a sick form of experimentation that almost took her life and nearly ruined my career. How many years had I lied to myself? All of them I guess. Maybe I saw myself as some fucking knight in shining armor - chaste love and all that fucking bullshit.

Well, I had no favors left to draw on, but Doggett and I finally found the hidden base – for all the good it did. They were all dead or dying from some glitch in the body chemistry that the brilliant mother fuckers couldn’t figure out. And in a scene worthy of the best of 30s and 40s horror movies, the Monsters killed their Dr. Frankensteins before they all just dissolved into tar-like puddles. Doggett got word to Mulder, and I actually had a brief conversation with him as the three of us stood looking down at the mass – grave? Garbage heap? Whatever. I had expected – thought – hoped – that Dana would come with him and want to examine the mess. But when I asked, Mulder shook his head. "Nah. She’s not feeling very well."

Panic seized me and I demanded. "What’s wrong? It’s not the cancer again is it?"

Mulder had looked at me rather strangely. "No. She’s fine. Just girl stuff I guess." It had been a stupid answer, but I had no right to probe further. If she needed me she would call. I don’t remember when I stopped staring at the phone as I sat each night with my rationed one drink. Months, weeks, days ago?

I offered to work to get Mulder’s job back. After all he had been proven right. But Mulder just brushed the offer aside. "Nah, Walter. It’s been too long. I want to rest. Me and Scully have some other stuff we are working on now, anyway."

That had been two years ago. And except for an occasional incredulous, "Oh, I heard from Mulder, Walter, they’re in Tierra del Fuego checking out a reported nest of vampires," I never heard from either of them directly.

Not until two nights ago.

The thunderclap is so close that it shakes the plate glass of my balcony doors. I look back into the darkness toward the staircase, but I don’t get up. My glass is half full. How appropriate. Standing up, I set the glass down and walk over to the balcony door. Sliding it open I step outside. The heat feels good after the cool interior. The lightning plays across the sky and another crash of thunder breaks nearby. "Thunder and lightning, sound and fury. I wonder if it will all signify nothing." I close my eyes and try to ignore the tears coursing down my cheek as I remember the phone call

:: ::

It was 5:30 and for once I was actually going to be able to leave before 7:00. I had made Deputy Director six months ago but the workload hadn’t eased one iota. Of course, maneuvering the X-Files into a direct line of supervision on the organizational chart hadn’t helped any. But, under John’s supervision at least I didn’t spend an inordinate amount of time hashing out expense reports. I glared at the phone as it rang for the third time, actually considering not answering it. I couldn’t recognize the caller ID number.

"Sir?" her whispered question ripped through me.

"Scully?" My heart was pounding and I thought for a moment that the nanocytes that had lay dormant for three years were starting up again.

"Hi."

Hi? After all this time that was the best she could come up with? I took a deep breath and waited.

"Sir? Are you there?"

"Yes, Scully. I’m here. It’s good to hear from you again. How are you?" Damn I was proud of that.

"I’m fine."

"Good. How’s Mulder?" I managed that one without so much a hitch in my voice but the silence stretched on the other end and the only reason why I knew I hadn’t lost the connection was because the caller ID still showed her number. I’ve got a good memory but it was impossible to keep all the area codes straight any more. I had no idea from where she was calling. I quickly jotted down the number.

When she finally spoke, she ignored my question. "Sir, are you going to be home tomorrow evening? I’m going to be in town and I thought it would be nice to see you. Perhaps after dinner?"

It had been too long and I wasn’t used to hiding my feelings from her so I hesitated before answering. "S-sure, Scully. How about 8:00."

"Great! I’ll see you then." Was that relief in her voice? Had she actually thought I wouldn’t cancel a meeting with anyone lower than the President himself to see her? Quickly I rebooted the computer and went to the FBI’s reverse directory lookup. Useless in the end, she had called from a cell phone registered in Austin, Texas.

I didn’t sleep much that night. The next day, Zoey, Kim’s replacement and a really good kid, finally got a taste of the old Surly Skinner I’m sure the other secretaries had warned her about. By lunchtime she was a nervous wreck and even though I apologized profusely for snapping at her, the damage had been done. Zoey, an ace Admin, a whiz at the computer but somewhat temperamental, had gone home early leaving me to find my own damn reports. The traffic on the beltway hadn’t helped. By the time 8:00 came and went my frustration and anger were at level even higher than when we thought Mulder was dead – the first time.

It was 9:30 and I knew she wasn’t coming. The lack of sleep from the night before and the emotional gut wrenching had taken its toll. "Fuck it. I’m going to bed." My foot was on the second step when I heard the faint knocking. Her knock. It didn’t even surprise me that she had got past the security guard. Hell, for her it had to be second nature. I was trembling as my hand touched the knob.

Whatever I felt for her doesn’t blind me to the wrinkles etched at the corners of her mouth and eyes. I suspect that very few of them were from laughing. As I stood there just staring at her I try to remember if I had ever heard her really laugh. My mouth was dry and my palms were sweating. She stood there dressed all in black. A stranger might have found her black jeans covered by a black sleeveless shirt to be sexy. God, how I hate her dressed all in black.

"I’m sorry I’m late. May I come in?" Her whisper did strange things to my stomach and I was very glad that the only thing I ate all day was a sandwich around 2:30.

"Yeah, Scully. Sorry. What held you up?"

In the old days she wouldn’t have answered me. For a moment I thought she would ignore the question now, but she sighed. "I’m staying at my mother’s and I-I…" She closed her eyes, "I had to wait for her to get back to borrow her car."

That simple statement told me the story. She couldn’t afford to rent her own car. It must have killed her to admit that. "You want something to drink?" I led her into the living room and motioned her to sit down.

"Tea would be nice."

As I made the tea I tried to figure out why she had come to me. Money? It wasn’t any of my business but surely Mulder couldn’t have gone through his trust funds. Finances shouldn’t be a worry to the two of them.

As I set the tray with the glasses on the table in front of her I said, "I don’t remember you answering me yesterday. How’s Mulder?"

She took the glass and sat back into the sofa. "I don’t know, Skinner. I haven’t seen him in six months."

"Lover’s spat?" The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I felt the hot blush rise on my face.

Again, she surprised me. She didn’t lash out and she should have. I wanted to see the anger flash in those incredible blue eyes. Instead she had smiled ruefully, sipped from her glass, never taking her eyes off me. "You might say that." She sighed and stood up. "This was a mistake. I’m sorry." She was almost at the door and I should have let her go but I grabbed her elbow. She didn’t struggle, but she didn’t turn around.

"Why did you come back, Scully?"

"Where else was I going to go, Skinner? I’m broke, I let my license slip and somehow I doubt that even you can get me back on with the bureau. My…" she stuttered to a stop and turned to face me. "That’s not why I came over tonight. I don’t want anything from you." She smiled slightly. "I know that’s difficult for you to believe, but really I don’t." Her breast heaved from the deep breath she took. "Mom’s dying."

"Oh shit, Scully, I’m sorry." Christ, how the hell does she go on? "Please, come back and sit down."

She walked back to the couch, never taking her eyes off me. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her upper lip. Then she nervously pursed her lips. I had always been fascinated by her body language. I wonder if she ever realized that I had always known when she was lying. Not just lying in general to back up her partner. No, that was a given. That’s what partners do for one another. With Scully, one little muscle twitch just below her left ear always told me when she was not personally buying some point in Mulder’s explanation of a case. She was obviously tired, her eyes were so sad that I almost couldn’t bear to look at her.

"It’s her heart, but more. Her arteries are too weak to take the stress of surgery. Frankly, sir, I think she just wants to go." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "It hasn’t been easy for her."

"No. It hasn’t." My anger returned full force. "It couldn’t be easy losing so much for a quest you didn’t understand." I didn’t even try to keep the bitterness hidden.

"But you understood and it wasn’t any easier for you. You lost so much too, didn’t you…Walter."

It wasn’t the first time she used my first name but still it sounded so strange after all those years. "Why did you come tonight…Dana?" I asked wearily.

"To apologize," she said simply.

"You owe me no apology. I did what I did out of free will."

A small smile graced her lips before she threw back her head and quietly cursed. "Jesus Christ, Walter. Did you think I was blind? Did you really think I didn’t know? I swear I didn’t mean to use it to get what I wanted." When she lowered her head again I could see the tears there. "I loved Mulder. But it was more than love." She leaned forward and clasped her hands in front of her, staring out at something only she could see. "I thought it was destiny."

She knew. All those years of keeping my feelings buried, all for nothing. She knew and what? Was that a look of anguished pity? I turned away and stalked up to the balcony door only to find myself staring at the stony countenance reflected back at me from the one table lamp I had left on. "And?" I choked out.

"It just hurt, Walter. Everything just hurt. We stayed together because, because if we didn’t then what had it all been for? After we knew we were safe, we tried to get the old dynamics back. Mulder would scour the Internet looking for oddities to track down. He even had a few people search him out personally. But I wanted my baby back. I fought it for months after John got us the news that the super soldier project had gone bust. But it was no use. I found him. He was three by then and the woman who had adopted him was walking with him in the park. I wanted him back so bad I even thought about kidnapping him and running away with him. I played the scene over and over in my head."

In the black mirror of my window I could make out the tears flowing down her cheeks. "I had to get out of there. Mulder tried to understand I guess. He told me we could try and make another baby."

I turned around then. Turned around to stare at her in shock and shame for the idiot she had given up so much for. She didn’t even bother to condone Mulder’s words. "He didn’t understand, Walter. How could he? You know, until we ran away together after his sentencing, we never really spent much time just talking about us. His childhood really was fucked up beyond belief. I came to realize that there were some things, even as smart as he was, he would never understand. Losing William was one of them. He had lost so much that I think he had already prepared himself for losing William too."

"You lost so much too, Dana." He reminded her quietly.

She sighed and stood up. "We all lost so much. Mulder, me, mom, you. So much loss. So damn much sadness. I realized I made a good choice for my son; those people will love and cherish him as much as I would have – will, in my dreams until I die. Now I’ll be here for my mother. If I can, I’ll get my license back and I’ll get a job at one of the hospitals. No, Walter, I didn’t come to you for help this time. I really did just want to see you and to let you know that I knew the way you felt about me and I’m sorry."

I don’t know what she had been trying to convey, but her words were like a slap in the face and I spat back, "Sorry? Sorry for me?"

"For you? No." She smiled sadly and came closer to stare up into my eyes. Her hand on my cheek felt like it was branding me. "Sorry for me actually."

Too many years of bitterness welled up in my chest. I gripped her wrist, hard, wanting to hurt her like she had hurt me, now, and all those years. "Why, Dana? Because I would have been a safer choice than Mulder?"

She didn’t say a word. The tears were gone and she just waited. I dropped her wrist but reached around her to fist her hair. I stared into her eyes looking for the lie but couldn’t see it. The kiss wasn’t gentle. My lips were hard against hers and I was surprised to find hers were dry and a bit chapped. I pushed my tongue past her lips and teeth and plunged it deep in her mouth. I think I wanted her to fight me, wanted her to struggle. I needed to know that I had been right about her. She had never wanted me this way, didn’t want me now. But her hands were already caressing my back and holding me tight. I ground my already hardening cock into her stomach and her groan wasn’t one of pain or disgust. I roughly pushed her back, practically throwing her to the couch. "I’m not safe, Dana. I never was." My growl was almost animalistic.

"No. I never thought you were safe. Just honorable."

Her words had the needed effect and my laughter was full of bitterness and pain. "Get out, Dana. Get out before you find out how dishonorable I can be."

She struggled to sit up, her breathing ragged, her face flushed. "Why, Walter? What are you going to do? Rape me? Not then, not now. But it wouldn’t be rape, Walter. I don’t care what you do to me tonight." She tried hard to maintain her look of defiance but her voice quavered, "But please, just kiss me again. Make me feel something besides this awful discontent. I feel so dead."

I should have kicked her out. I really should have. Maybe that’s what I intended to do when I took the three strides to the couch and hauled her out of it. But I pulled her up with such force that she landed hard against me, grinding my erection into her.

Everything after that is a blur of memory. Tongues twining together; thrusting, mating. She tasted of tea and peppermint. She smelled of herbal shampoo. Her hair was like silk through my fingers. And her hands. Oh God, her hands were everywhere. Tugging at my shirt, sending the buttons flying in all directions, pinging against the walls and the window. She frantically worked at my belt and I remember how the cool air felt against my cock as it struggled to get free of its confinement. The cool didn’t last long though as her hot moist mouth took me in. My eyes had been closed up to that point but I looked down then. Her red hair seemed to float around my groin as she bobbed up and down on me and I really thought it was all just a dream. And, as in most of my wet dreams, I came hard and quick, flooding her mouth with my sperm. If she was shocked or disgusted I never saw it. She just sucked harder, drinking down every drop.

Finally, the sensations were too much. I pushed her off me, gently running my fingers through her hair. Staring down into her eyes I saw her need; I refused to look for anything else. I kicked my pants and briefs away, reached down and picked her up. Throwing her over my shoulder I looked toward my couch, but decided I needed time to recover and room to maneuver.

I carried her up the stairs and into my bedroom. Throwing her down on the bed, I just stood there for a moment staring at her. She was the very personification of ten years of wet dreams: hair mussed, breasts, the nipples so hard they looked like they hurt, heaving with her panting, her mouth swollen and wet after sucking my cock. Her legs were spread obscenely. Her entire posture screamed, "Fuck me."

I knew that once we were done she would leave me in disgust. But something inside me broke. "I’m not safe, Dana."

"No, Walter." She shook her head. Her hair, longer than it had been while she was an agent splayed across the pure white pillowcase. Her body arched up, begging me to touch it.

"You came to me," I growled.

She just nodded.

I couldn’t believe I was hard again. I’m over fifty now, and this just doesn’t happen, but I was. I stroked myself. "You want this?"

"Oh God, Walter. Please," she panted, reaching out her hand toward me, starting to sit up.

One night was all I would ever get. I knew that. The thought of it made me crazy. "Lie still," I hissed. I saw the shock in her eyes, a bit of the old defiance, but not for long. She laid back and waited. I looked around, making my plans quickly. I grabbed two silk ties off the rack and walked to the head of the bed. She saw what I was going to do and I reveled at the fear in her eyes. But I wouldn’t force her. I waited and finally she timidly lifted her arms over her head. I tied her wrists securely to the headboard and walked back to the foot of the bed. For a long time I just stared down at her. I couldn’t remember taking her blouse and bra off but I’m glad they are gone.

I reached down and pulled off her tennis shoes. She wore no socks and I lifted her feet to my lips. I bit her instep and she jerked off the bed. "Don’t move," I commanded and watched her struggle to obey. I crawled up her body and worked the buttons down her fly. She’s thinner than I remember, the bones of her pelvis clearly defined. I liked the way the extra pounds had made her look softer. It was the only thing soft about her. Now she was all hard planes and angles. The jeans slipped off her legs easily and I tossed them behind me. I knelt on the bed trying to maintain my control. I suddenly realized that she hadn’t planned this tonight. No woman with seduction on her mind wears often-washed white cotton briefs. I saw her embarrassment and that she had no clue what to say. The smell of her arousal drove all fashion thoughts from my mind. I pulled her panties down and threw them behind me. Her deep red thatch was already glistening and matted with her passion.

I gulped and fought the urge to free her and hold her, but my passion overtook me and I descended to devour her. I took my time, nipping at her thighs, spreading them to accommodate my body. I ignored her gasps and whimpers, as I tasted her for the first time. She jerked at my touch but her cries egged me on. "Please, Walter," she begged me and I became rougher, bolder. Touching, probing, testing. She was so tight that I knew it has been a long time for her. That should have made me gentler but it seemed to have the opposite effect. I licked her from clit to anus and she arched off the bed.

"You like that?" I paused to look up her torso. Her skin was splotched and her breasts beckoned me.

"Walter?" she cried as I crawled up her, kissing my way to her stomach, her sternum, her hardened nipples. I dragged the flat of my tongue across them before taking one between my teeth and pulling on it, distending her breast. She tried to follow me at first but then lay back to increase the pleasure/pain. Her eyes were dilated and her breath came in ragged gasps. I was so hard for her, but I didn’t want it to end. A wild need seized me. I have no idea what sex with Mulder was like. I have no idea how many lovers she has had, but I wanted her to remember this night. I covered her with my body, forcing her deep into my mattress, and claimed her lips with mine. I kissed every inch of skin that I could. I left purple love bites on her breasts and stomach before settling between her thighs again. She was bucking and begging for me to take her but I wanted to explore, to discover just how tight she was. I thrust my finger deep inside and her walls grabbed at it, pulling it in. I forced a second finger in and she arched off the bed, her cries a keening need. I rubbed my thumb over her clit and she came with a force so strong that I couldn’t pull free from her if I wanted to. I didn’t; I plunged in further stroking her insides and she cried my name.

In my hottest wet dreams I never imagined how Dana Scully would look in the throws of release. She’s the hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen. I shuddered and knew I wanted more. I pulled my fingers free and they were coated with her juices. She watched me, wanting to see what I planned next. I licked my lips. I hesitated. I reminded myself it was only for one night.

I think she thought I was going to lick them clean. I thought she would scream no. We were both surprised when I brought my fingers to her anus and began to gently probe. "Oh God! Yeesssssssss." She groaned and tried hard to drive me deeper. She raised her knees to her chest, exposing herself completely. It was too much. I drove my cock deep inside her as my fingers probed deeper still. She was bucking and thrashing, calling my name. I’m not even sure I thrust more than once or twice but I came so hard my head hurt. I don’t know why I didn’t fall on her, crushing her. I pulled my hand free and was able to brace myself as the tremors shook us both. I lowered my lips to hers and she greedily sucked my lower lip into her mouth. I rolled off her and she whimpered as I left her. I was breathing so hard all I wanted to do was rest but I worked the ties loose and gently pulled her arms down. I kissed her reddened wrists.

"I’m sorry," I whispered. I waited, knowing she would soon leave. She did get up, but made no move to reach for her clothes. I watched as she stumbled to the bathroom and I closed my eyes in shame. I heard the water running and then the door opening, and saw her body silhouetted just for a moment before turning off the lights. She returned to bed and I hissed my surprise as the cool washrag caressed my tender cock. I didn’t even cringe when she tossed it to the rug beside the bed.

"Lift up, Walter." Her voice was soft but demanding and I realized she wanted to free the bedspread and pull it down. I wondered what the dry cleaners would think of the stains – but only briefly as she cuddled next to me. I fell asleep knowing she would be gone in the morning.

:: ::

I hear the creak at the top of the stairs. She didn’t leave this… yesterday?… morning. I woke to the feel of her mouth on my cock. Later, much later, I called in sick and we made love all day, stopping only to eat – grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for lunch. For twenty-four hours we pleasured each other. After lunch yesterday – earlier today – whenever – she called her mother to check on her. "Yes mom. No I’m fine. Are you okay? Do you need me to…I know you are perfectly capable mother, but I have the car, remember. What? Well why didn’t you tell me. Fine, mother. No I think I’ll wait awhile before trying to make peace with Bill. I’m glad he’s there for you. You have a nice time at the beach. No, I think I’ll stay here a little while longer. I’ll tell you later mother, you know you can reach me on my cell. No mother. I’m perfectly safe. Maybe for the first time in years."

We talked afterward. She told me a little of the years of running and hiding. Mostly she talked about how exhausting it was for her. "He just wore me out, Walter. I’m 42 and feel used up. He was still going strong. There was just nothing left anymore." She kissed me. "But last night you made me feel alive again. Young again."

"Hey. That’s supposed to be my line," I whispered, pulling her to me.

She laughed and tugged me back upstairs. "Come on. Lets go feel young some more."

Was it just two hours ago that we made slow, languid love, lightly kissing bruises from our earlier more brutal matings? Tears fell after we came within moments of each other. They were tears of joy but also tears for all the losses. I don’t know how long she will stay. I hope forever but I will take what I can get. I always did.

I feel her hand caress my shoulder before she settles next to me, naked. As she cuddles, working my arm under her until I hold her against me again, I realize that she’s finally come home.