He heard the low drone of the television as he slid his key into the lock. He made sure to lock the dead bolt behind him.
For what good it would do.
Sound asleep, curled up with her arms underneath her, she didn't even move when he took the remote dangling from her fingers and switched off the television.
It didn't escape him that if he were an intruder, she'd be dead by now.
But, then again, not everyone slept as lightly as he did.
He loosened his tie, shedding clothes as he trudged up the stairs to the bathroom. Judging from the trash bag on the floor in the bathroom, Anna had the same idea as he did, and he swiftly added his now-ruined clothes with hers before stepping into the shower himself.
Despite the exhausted state of his body and his mind, he couldn't shake the feeling that the world as they knew it was preparing to be drastically altered beyond any scope of their imaginations. Letting the water run in his face, he willed it to purge him of the stories he had heard over the past few years, the things he had seen.
But, no matter how many times he tried, mere water just wouldn't do the trick.
The hot water had run lukewarm by the time he felt remotely clean, pulling on a pair of old jeans and nothing else.
His intentions were to check on her, to cover her with a blanket against the artificial chill of the air conditioner.
But, blanket in hand, all he could do was stand, watching her sleep, what looked suspiciously like his shirt almost swallowing her whole. Soundlessly, he sat on the edge of the coffee table, the blanket forgotten, as he watched her even breathing. Her hair, still damp from the shower, curled on the ends, and the smell of her enticed his senses, all those body washes and bath oils she carted over here while she was in the hospital coming to good use, apparently.
As he watched her sleep, some of the tension from the evening leeched away, being replaced by a calm he only seemed to experience in her presence.
Only the scars on her thigh caused him any flutter of pain. For her. For what she went through, what made her into the woman she is, rather she knew it or not. Gently, he reached out and touched them, the skin bumpy, but smooth under his fingertips.
It was the first time he'd seen them up close. The first he'd noticed of the physical pain she was put through.
He couldn't take it away from her, although he wished with all his might that he could.
And not add to it.
His hand fell away, and he removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger wearily, his heart heavy in his chest.
When he returned his glasses to his face, he saw she was awake. Watching him.
Slightly embarrassed at being caught, he voiced an earlier concern. "If I'd have been an intruder, you'd be dead by now." His voice was gruff, masking emotions he didn't think he wanted to feel.
"I knew it was you when you came in the door." Her eyes were still sleepy.
He looked skeptical. "How?"
"Thieves wouldn't use a key." She sat up her hair mussed from sleep and stretched, her arms over her head.
Despite the lack of sleep and emotional toil this evening had, he felt himself respond as the thin material of the shirt pressed against her body, shadows hinting at what was just underneath.
"Did the police find anything?"
Her question brought him back to a reality he wasn't ready to face.
"Not a damned thing," he practically growled, his eyes on her.
She could sense his frustration, just under the surface, like a spring wound tighter and tighter. It was almost as if she could touch him, run her fingers along his bare chest, feel the tense emotions coursing through him.
His bare chest . . .
Well-muscled, it bore the scars of a life spent fighting wars that were not his own. Each one told a story, some she knew and some she didn't. One jagged scar low on his abdomen even disappeared into the edge of his jeans worn low on his hips.
Anna was surprised at the blossom of heat she felt explode in her chest.
He could almost see the mood in the room change.
He knew she was studying him, watching him, and his eyes never left her face.
He had thought her gorgeous hours before all decked out, but sitting there in front of him, in nothing but his shirt, face devoid of all traces of cosmetics, he knew she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
As many women as he'd been with, a longing he'd never experienced before made him breathless with need.
He couldn't help himself. Although she was just an arm's-length away, it felt miles too far. As he reached for her, putting both hands softly on the sides of her head to study her face, they both stood. She clung to him as their lips met, searching, probing, wanting.
His fingers moved from her hair to the buttons of his shirt she was wearing, his mouth traveling along her jaw line towards her neck as he worked on unfastening the buttons with shaky fingers, the light scent of her welcome after the horrid smells at the hangar . . .
No. He wouldn't think about that now.
When he found a particularly sensitive spot along her skin where her neck tapered towards her shoulder, she gasped, her nails digging slightly into his bare back, making his fingers fumble just that much more with the buttons on her shirt. The floor of his apartment was looking mighty damn appealing as she pressed against him, causing him to stop just a moment to catch his breath.
By now, his mouth had found hers once again, and giving up on the damned buttons, he cupped her bottom with his hands, picking her up ever so slightly.
Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and somehow, he managed to carry her like that up the stairs to his bedroom, tongues intertwined, until he reached the bed, lowering them both onto it.
With a flick of his wrist, he ripped the rest of the buttons away, his hands running over the smooth skin of her stomach, his mouth closing around one nipple, then the other, teasing, taunting, her back arching towards him, her moans echoing in his head as her hands ran over his back and his chest.
Pleasing her became his sole focus, erasing everything he had seen and done, erasing a lifetime of regrets and empty promises.
Tugging slightly, he tossed her underwear aside, his mouth moving from her breasts down her stomach and even further.
She cried out, nails digging into his shoulders, with the first flick of his tongue, and he drank of her, his need growing with each passing moment until he could stand it no longer. Moving away just long enough to remove his jeans he tossed them to the floor.
For one brief moment, he hovered over her, both of them breathing heavily, looking in her eyes, dark with desire, mirroring what he could feel coursing through his veins.
When he entered her, every worry, every bit of anger and frustration flitted away, as two bodies, slick with sweat, moved to a crescendo. She cried out his name, muscles taunt, fingers digging into flesh, and it was all he needed to push him over the edge.
They fell asleep tangled among the sheets and each other, his nose buried in her hair fanned across her pillow, clinging to the feeling of peace and comfort he so desperately needed.
The strains of Beethoven's 'Ninth Symphony' floated about her, sounding strangely monotone in her half-asleep state.
For a moment, she wondered where she was, opening one eye, then the other, the unfamiliar surroundings catching her off guard.
But, then she remembered. And had to smile, flexing sore muscles as she shut her eyes again. The strange music stopped.
Walter had his arm thrown over her side, and she felt him stir behind her. He raised up and kissed her on the back of her neck. Without opening her eyes, she snuggled against him not willing to give up the moment.
The music started again.
"I think your cell phone is calling you," he murmured, moving from her neck to her shoulder.
Anna stretched and yawned, finally remembering. "Libby changed my ring tone." Reluctantly climbing out of bed, she grabbed his shirt, sans a few buttons, from the night before, wrapping it around her the best she could.
Her phone was sitting on a table just inside the front door.
She didn't look at the caller ID when she answered it. And immediately regretted that decision.
"Where have you been? I called you until midnight last night. Our time! Then, I started back up this morning at 6. Your time!"
Anna stifled a groan and collapsed in a chair nearby. "Hi, Mom."
Her mother was not to be deterred. "I thought you were dead! That some heathen drug-induced thug had gotten you. You could've been in the hospital, bleeding to death!"
Anna put her hand over her face, rubbing her eyes wearily. She squinted at the clock on the television. 7:54
It was way too early to deal with her mother. "Mom, I'm fine."
She heard her mom's familiar huffing. "Ken, she says she's fine."
Her dad's response was muffled, but she imagined it was a grunt of some sort.
Her mom always blew things way out of proportion. They all knew it.
But, then again, she had a reason to. Anna had been bleeding on the side of the road before.
"You didn't answer my question, young lady!"
Anna cringed. She hadn't been listening. "Which one, Mom?" Anna could almost hear her mother's gears churning, see her brown eyes narrow.
"Were you out partying all night? I told your grandmother that moving to the East Coast was not a good idea. All sorts of bad stuff comes out of there. Why, just last night on 'Dateline,' I saw this story about this man who actually preys on single women. Oh Lord, is someone preying on you?"
Anna put her face in her hands, holding her cell phone between her shoulder and her ear. "No, Mom. No one's preying on me."
"Well, where were you?"
No one could say her mom was anything but tenacious.
It was on the tip of Anna's tongue to tell her it was none of her business.
But, she knew her mother meant well. All her other children, she saw daily. Anna was apparently the only one that caused her any grief.
For one brief second, she thought about how last night really went – from opera to burnt corpses by rogue aliens to passionate sex.
Most of that wouldn't go over too well with her mother, either.
"Uhh . . . I was out. With a friend."
"Are you still out with that friend? Because like I said, you weren't answering your house phone. Why do you even pay for a house phone if you're not going to answer it?" That was her mother. Ever the frugal one.
"Mom, I'm not at home."
There was a pause. The gears were still turning at warp speed. "Oh."
Anna had to give her credit. She didn't keep badgering.
Which was good. Because she never could lie to her mother, even over the phone.
"Mom, what in the world did you need to tell me that was so important?"
Walter chose that moment to come downstairs.
Anna rolled her eyes. "My mother," she mouthed, covering the receiver.
For a moment, Anna almost thought her mother forgot what she was calling for. "Oh. Right. I just wanted to tell you that the preacher's son – you remember Matthew? He was always such a sweet young man, coming to see his mother every Wednesday night, driving all the way from Sioux City. . ."
Walter's hands started massaging her neck, and Anna rolled her head around, enjoying the feel of it. "Mom? Your point?"
"I'm getting there. Anyway, he's finally graduating from med school. Can you believe it? A doctor! His mother is so proud!"
"I bet."
Walter's hands moved from her neck, sensually down her half-buttoned shirt to her breast. He leaned over and kissed the back of her neck.
She wanted to swat him away, but damn, it felt too good! So, all she could do was focus on not moaning aloud in her mother's ear while she went on and on about Matthew the doctor who she could barely remember.
"Anna? You still there, Anna?"
"Ummmm?" She tried to shove Walter away, hearing him chuckle behind her as he disappeared into the kitchen. "Yes, Mom. Right here. You were saying?"
"I was saying that the church is throwing him a big party next weekend. I thought maybe . . . maybe you could try to come home for it?"
Anna sighed. "Mom, you know I can't just fly on home whenever something comes up. I'm sure Matthew will understand." Especially since all she could remember of him was putting a frog in her best friend's desk when they were in elementary school.
"Well, Mrs. Bates and her daughter are going, and you know that Carrie got divorced? Tragic thing. He was cheating with the babysitter. But, she'll be there, with that scrumptious chocolate pecan pie of hers. And don't forget Sally . . ."
It clicked. "Mom, you're trying to play matchmaker from two thousand miles away!"
Her mom made offended noises. "I am not! I just thought you might want to come home. It's been so long since we've seen you."
OK, Anna did feel guilty about that. "I miss you, too, but I have a job. Responsibilities. I can't just drop everything."
"Apparently, you have a boyfriend, too. Your grandmother has been talking about it all week."
Anna ground her teeth. Granny promised not to tell!
"I bet this is the 'friend' you're with, isn't it? You better not be talking to me while you're lying naked in his bed."
Anna choked back a laugh. "I'm not naked in his bed, Mom." Although she was basically halfway there.
"Well, tell me about him? Is he nice? What does he do? How does he treat his mother?"
Anna sighed. "Mom, I've got to go. I'll talk to you about it later, OK?"
"You always say you'll talk about it later, but you never do," the older woman wailed. "You used to tell me everything, even after Scott was born!"
It was unfair to bring up Scott, but Anna didn't think her mother meant any harm. "Mom, I just don't want you to worry. Everything's fine here."
"Oh my God! He has a nose ring, doesn't he?"
"I'm hanging up now, Mom. Tell Dad I love him."
"Tattoos? Is it tattoos?"
"Bye, Mom!" Anna ended the call before her mother had a chance to list every undesirable abnormality she could think of, tossing the phone on the coffee table.
"Do you talk to your mother often?" his voice carried from the kitchen, along with the fragrant odor of coffee. Anna gravitated towards it.
"Too often, if you ask me. She has to have a daily report on my life, or she thinks I don't love her anymore."
He handed her a mug, steam rising from the top. "I take it you haven't told her about . . ."
"Oh, Lord, no! The woman would have a stroke!" Anna took a sip and added sugar he had set out. "I don't tell anyone that stuff."
"They'll think you're crazy," he mumbled.
"And, it's none of their business."
She almost spilt coffee on herself when someone started pounding on the door.
He sat his mug down with a thump, instantly on alert. "Stay right here."
Anna wasn't going to tell him she sure as hell wasn't going to flounce into the living room wearing nothing but his half-buttoned shirt. And, she didn't think anyone who meant them harm would bang on the door hard enough to wake the dead.
After looking through the peep-hole, she heard Walter mutter something along the lines of 'Jesus Christ' before he unlocked and opened the door part of the way, leaning on it, obviously not in the mood to ask anyone in.
"What is it, Agent Mulder?"
"We've been calling you all morning. The Deputy Director has scheduled a meeting for 9:30 about . . . last night, and he wants you there. But, your line was busy."
Walter glanced over his shoulder at the phone. It was off the hook.
Probably a little after-affect of the two of them trying to get to the bedroom in such a hurry.
"Fine. I'll be there." He started to close the door.
Mulder motioned. "Can we come in?"
Skinner glanced at Scully. She just looked apologetic.
"No, Agent Mulder, you may not come in."
Mulder blinked. Not the response he was expecting. "We've been . . . out at the sight all night. I was wondering . . . if I may use your restroom? To freshen up? We don't have time to go home . . ." He seemed uncomfortable about asking.
Anna could hear the conversation from the kitchen as she cradled her coffee in her hands. Her bare legs were hidden by the kitchen counters. When Walter glanced at her over his shoulder, she shrugged.
Reluctantly, he held the door open, and the two agents, looking definitely like they had spent the night in the woods, trudged through.
Scully saw her first, and Anna had to remember to wrap the shirt around her to make sure everything was covered. "Hi, Dana. Fox."
"Hi, Anna," Scully said, a little uncomfortably.
Mulder, already heading up the stairs, paused for a moment. "Oh. Hi." He seemed to think for a moment. "Sorry, sir."
"Just go on, Agent Mulder," Skinner said, clearly exasperated.
"Would you like some coffee, Dana?" Anna asked, trying to keep them from feeling uncomfortable.
"Uh, no thanks. We won't be long. I hope," she added, mumbling.
Skinner couldn't help but ask. "Did you find any other evidence?"
Scully shrugged, lines of exhaustion on her face. "None. But, we did find out who the little girl was. The granddaughter of a ranking official with the Department of Defense."
Anna thought fleetingly of Libby's husband and wondered just how much, if any, the man actually knew of this. He probably wasn't high enough on the totem pole. But then again . . .
Mulder returned, looking much better, and it was Scully's turn.
"Coffee, Mulder?" Anna asked. Hell, if she was standing in a man's kitchen half-naked, the least she could do was offer coffee to his guests.
Mulder brightened, but at his superior's hard stare, he wisely turned it down, trying his best not to get close enough to the kitchen to see if she really wasn't wearing anything but that shirt. "I . . . uh . . . apologize for intruding."
She held up her mug. "You weren't intruding on anything but breakfast."
He looked relieved momentarily, especially when Scully trotted back down the stairs.
Now, it was Skinner's turn to look uncomfortable. "Mulder, Scully, do you mind if I . . . ride with you?" He motioned towards Anna. "She's going to take my car home."
Anna didn't even think about getting home. "I could take a cab?"
"No, no that's quite alright," Mulder quickly answered. "We'll wait." He figured if his boss was going to break rules by allowing someone not with the Bureau to drive his fleet vehicle, then he was serious about it.
"Fine. Give me 5 minutes." He retreated up the stairs, leaving the three of them standing awkwardly downstairs.
Scully spoke first. "How did it go with Gretchen?"
Anna made a face, cupping her hands around the coffee mug at the sudden chill that shivered down her spine. "She didn't even wake up when we handed her over." She hadn't thought about it until now, but she imagined the little girl was terrified when she awoke with even more strangers. "Have they found her next of kin?"
"An aunt. In Maine. The authorities were going to give her a call. But, it seemed most of the immediate family was . . .at the hangar."
"I was afraid of that," Anna sighed.
"So, Agent Fowley dropped you off? Here?" Mulder asked, ignoring Scully's sharp look.
Anna saw it, though, and nodded in response to his question. "Not without a few prying questions of her own."
Scully made a face, which Mulder also ignored. "Did she say anything? About the case?"
"Not a thing. Actually, it was more like she was pumping me for information." She shifted from her sore leg and took a sip of coffee. "I should have asked her if she smoked because the interior of that car smelt worse than that hangar."
At Scully and Mulder's shocked expressions, she paused mid-sip. "What?"
Then, it hit her, and she sat the mug down with a thump, some of the contents splashing over the side.
All ears, Scully crossed her arms, deep in thought. "Tell me what exactly what you talked about."
Carefully, Anna relayed their short conversation, making sure she didn't leave anything out.
"How did she know you had a dog?" Mulder asked, head cocked, clearly deep in thought.
Anna hadn't thought about that. "I . . . don't know."
"Because he told her," Scully said, exasperation evident in her voice. "After all, the dog almost ate him for breakfast. Why can't you admit that she's consorting with the enemy? Mulder, she is the enemy!"
Mulder shot her a warning look. "Not now, Scully . . ."
"You need to face it, Mulder. For some reason, you think her above reproach, but she's not-"
They were interrupted by Skinner stomping down the stairs, tie in hand, coat thrown over his shoulder. He paused before he hit the bottom, noting Scully's hostile posture. "Is everything OK here?"
"No, it is not," Scully said.
"We'll fill you in on the ride to the Bureau," Mulder said, clearly wanting away from the situation as fast as possible.
Skinner stared at them both, trying to get a read on what was going on before shaking his head. He made his way to the kitchen and to Anna, handing her the keys. "I'll come by later and pick it up."
"Do you want me to get it to you? I don't mind . . ."
He shook his head, grabbing his unfinished coffee with his free hand while trying to finish knotting his tie with the other. Anna stepped in and finished it for him.
What he wanted to do was haul her back upstairs, but not with the audience in the living area who were studiously trying not to pay them any attention. Having her stand in his kitchen in nothing but his shirt, her hair mussed from sleep and sex, turned him on more than anything. Instead, he gave her a small, lingering kiss. "I'll call you."
"You better."
He had to smile at that. "Lock the door behind us."
"Yes, sir."
"Nice to know you take orders, too," Mulder added, grinning mischievously as they headed for the door, risking the comment despite the sharp look he knew he'd get from the assistant director.
When they were gone, Anna flopped down on the couch to enjoy the rest of her coffee. She found it easy to push the new worries away about Fowley and this cigarette-smoking Spender fellow as her mind wandered back to last night.
