The next few class periods are spent going over the semester's syllabus and getting familiar with the different art materials. Especially the sculpting clay. Two and a half weeks straight, Scully shakes her head condescendingly at her partner every time he makes something nasty with the clay and waves it in her face. "Mulder," she finally chides, "you are disgusting!" They are sitting in their office, and Scully is struggling to finish their report for Skinner while her imaginative partner "practices" his sculpting. "Are you gonna help me with this?"

"But you're doing so well without me. I would just slow you down."

Scully tilts her head and raises an eyebrow acknowledging that he is probably right. The only reason his being off task even bothers her is because she wishes she could be off task, too. Unfortunately, at least one of them has to remain on task at all times, andalso unfortunately for hershe is always that one. After another few minutes, she happily clicks "save" and then "print." "Done," she sighs contentedly.

"We're done?" Mulder beams, rising from his chair.

"We? We who, Mulder?" He gives her an apologetic look, and she accepts it with her own look.

"So, are you ready for class?"

"Almost," she mumbles, finalizing a few last things. Then, she smiles and says, "Ready."

In the car, she pulls out her copy of the syllabus. "Huh," she grunts thoughtfully.

"What?"

"Well, today they are having the nude models come into class today. Looks like those improper figures you have been sculpting lately may come in handy after all."

"Well, whada-ya-know?" he grins.

When they walk into the classroom, Mulder is literally pushing past Scully to see if the models are there yet. "God, Mulder, you are pathetic."

"Not true, Scully. I was merely making sure it was decent for you."

"Sure," she mutters, pulling him back behind her. He follows her to their seats. "Hey, we're early."

"You'd think she'd be here by now."

"Who? The professor?"

"No, the model."

"Mulder, I don't see what the big deal is. You have a shelf of porn and a twenty-year collection of Playboy sitting at home. Why should this be any better?" she asks, taking a sip from her water bottle.

Mulder gives her an isn't-it-obvious? expression. "Because this one will actually be in person." A sudden burst of laughter causes the water to flow down the wrong pipe, and she starts coughing. Mulder finds this response more insulting that amusing…insulting that she would laugh in the first place. "That sounded really pathetic, didn't it?" he shrugs.

When she catches her breath, she answers, "Not at all. If anything, I thought that was very entertaining, and it certainly satiated a particular curiosity for me."

"What's that?" he asks, suddenly curious of what she means.

"Oh, nothing…just that it's been a while since…well, y'know." She slightly blushes.

"Hey-hey-hey," Mulder waves his hands, "be nice." It is silent for a while before he speaks again. "Well, how long has it been since you've…"

She gives him a stern none-of-your-business glare, but falls back in her chair. "A long time."

"Well, for what it's worth, me too." He starts to reach for her hand when the female model enters. She is wearing a robe, but she may as well be wearing a plastic bag. Scully watches painfully as Mulder's eyes plunge out of their sockets before returning back just as quickly. "There she is," he grins.

Scully tries to hide the jealously in her voice as she agrees, "Yeah. She sure is pretty."

Almost half of class passes by while Scully watches Mulder sculpt the model's every curve. At one point, she is staring at his sculpture so intently that he laughs. "Jealous, are you?"

"Of her?"

His laugh is cut short. "No, actually. I meant of my sculpting talent." She looks down at her clay and realizes she has barely done a thing to it since it was given to her. "Why would you be jealous of the model?" he asks, leaving her to wonder if he is setting her up for delight or disappointment.

"Because…" she gulps uneasily, "…she's got the perfect body that every guy looks for in a girl."

Mulder appears to consider this. "So do you," he shrugs, as though it isn't a big secret.

"Mulder, she's tall; I'm short. She's a brunette; I'm a redhead."

"You're petite, and I heard red is the new brown," he grins, wagging his eyebrows suggestively. "Besides, you make it sound like that's every guys' type."

"It's yours," she blurts, confident that she made her point. What point was that again?

"So? Why does that matter to you?" Leave it to Mulder to ask the million dollar questions.

"Itit doesn't, I guess," she stutters, unsure how to continue the conversation. For a while, it just drops. Her relief is obvious when the model replaces her robe and starts to leave.

"Scully, you're really gonna to turn in that?" She glances at the syllabus in her folder and smiles widely.

"Hey, guess what, Mulder? We have a choice of which sculpture we rather turn into her."

"What do you mean?" he asks, getting excited by the idea of another model coming in…that is until he hears the roomof mostly girlsgo silent. "Wait a second," he mutters. "Who's that?"

Scully looks up from the paper, and suddenly, she feels like she has a fever. "Oh, boy," she whispers, wetting her lips that have just gone dry. Mulder looks at her face and follows her gaze back to the man before them. "Is that the real James Bond?" Scully gapes, allowing the folder to drop freely from her hand. She was aiming for her bag, but since she didn't make sure her bag was even there first, she has no idea where the folder landed. She doesn't even care. She'll get it later.

"Scully?" Mulder whispers, tempted to wave his hand in front of her face. But judging by that stare, it wouldn't do any good whatsoever. She'd be staring right through his hand to see the guy that is now undressing right in front of them. Mulder watches uncomfortably as her cheeks flush, maybe even more than they do when he toys with her. "Dana?" he tries again.

Her mouth is moving, but no sound comes out…scratch that…little incoherent squeaks come out. Finally, he grabs her arm, and she almost jumps from her chair. "Holy shMulder, you scared me!"

"Well, excuse me!" he whines. "I was justScully? Scully? Dana!" Her eyes keep focusing on the naked male model in the center of the classroom, and Mulder has had enough. "Maybe we should go."

"NO!" she exclaims with more force than she had intended. Professor Glitter is introducing him while Scully eyes her partner and says, "I have a feeling I'll do better on this sculpture than I did on the last one." With that, she faces forward, andfor the first time todaypays attention to the assignment at hand…literally.

Mulder leans back in his seat. So this is what it feels like to get a taste of your own medicine. "He's not even that impressive." Scully darts her eyes at him with a hint of amusement. A while after the class has been set free to use the rest of the period sculpting this model, Mulder insists, "Well, he's not."

Scully works her clay almost inappropriately in her hands…not too differently than her partner had been only a half hour before. She chuckles to herself and replies, "Oh, Mulder…just because this guy is…very well endowed…doesn't make you any less of a man." She almost giggles at his reaction, but stifles it just in time. Without even meaning to, she adds, "Well, maybe a little less." Realizing the words had slipped from her lips before she could stop them, her eyes widen in partial embarrassment and partial remorse. Mulder looks like he has just been socked in the stomach…maybe even lower. "I am so sorry," she half giggles.

"That was convincing," he says dryly. Scully's just happy he can speak at all.

"No, seriously. I never meant to say that out loud." That doesn't seem to help either. Gee. I wonder why? she muses rather giddily, noting that the tables have turned.

Mulder tries to sit up straight, forcing confidence in his voice. "Well, I hate to be a buzz kill, but if you are under the impression that that is well-endowed, then you have had a very mediocre sex-life."

Her chin drops and her eyebrows jump to attention. Turning back to the clay in front of her to make one final touch, she shakes her head at him in disbelief. "Now, look who's jealous."

He examines her sculpture from his seat and slumps against his desk…pouting. Her sculpture of Tarzan over here, looks better than mine of Jane. He can only find humor in his new nickname for the man who has stole his partner's hearteven if he doesn't particularly resemble the classic Ape Man. All of a sudden, now she's good at art, he continues to mope internally. After she finishes her final touch, her first true masterpiece is complete, with almost fifteen minutes to spare. "You're done?" She nods proudly. "Good. Can we go now?"

"Awww. Is Mulder having an identity crisis?" she teases using a form of baby talk.

"No," he throws back. It occurs to him that he isn't helping his case by acting like that baby she has depicted him to be. Attempting a more masculine approach, he says, "I'm going to miss the game."

"What game?"

"Uhhh, basketball. The basketball game that's on tonight."

Scully raises a skeptical brow. "Who's playing?"

"What do you care? You don't even like basketball."

"I care because I happen to know it's not even basketball season. It's football season. But you knew that," she grins. He did, actually, but he didn't think she did. He just decided to use basketball because he knew he would be more apt to watch basketball than football. When did she get into sports, anyway?

"Okay, Scully. You got me. The truth is…" He looks awkwardly the unclothed man and then back to her. "…I don't feel comfortable." She gives him a look that says surprise, surprise!

"Is it about what I said?" she asks.

"No…well, maybe…I don't know." He breaks the eye contact between them, suddenly feeling overexposed. "I'm sorry about what I said. I'm sure you've had a"

"Non-mediocre sex-life?" she finishes with a grin. He blushes and offers a small nod. "We can leave early on one condition," she deals, giving her best poker face. He looks up almost hoping her answer is half as good as the inappropriate one he wants to say, but suddenly, his joke doesn't seem quite as funny. There are times for nasty humor, and there are times for intimate silence. "We talk about what's going on between us." That is her deal. They could stay, or they could go. But if they go, they talk.

At the moment, Mulder can't think of anything he'd rather do. "Let's talk."

They decide to take the path through the park. It is just late enough in the day that the kids are home eating dinner, but just early enough that it is still light. Scully has her arm looped through his, while he keeps his hands buried in his toasty warm pockets. The speed at which they are walking is relaxed and allows her to rest her head comfortably on his shoulder. "What do you want to talk about?" he asks, perhaps nervously.

"You and me…us."

"Is there an us?"

"I guess that's what we need to talk about." Her grip tightens around his arm, and his body aches to hold her in response, but they keep on walking. "Mulder, this class has been fun, and it has taught me a lot…more than I thought it would."

"What do you mean? All we've really done so far is finger paint and play with clay."

"Well, even you must admit I have come a long way with those." They both laugh, comfortably taking in the scenery. He agrees with a soft grunt, but then becomes quiet again. "But it's the other things I've learned in these past few weeks that will really stay with me." She stops and turns to face him.

"How well-endowed real men are?" he teases, afraid to walk further into the sea of emotion, so profound and so beautiful. She is leading him there, asking him to join her. But he is afraid. He is afraid that he might drown, but he is even more afraid that she will. She thinks she knows me so well, but she doesn't. If she did, she would know that once I tell her I love her, there is no going back to the way things were. His desire to be with her, and his love for her are so strong, he is afraid he will suffocate her or scare her away.

"Fair is fair," she smiles, her eyes sparkling with delight.

Mulder remembers how she felt when he had been gawking at the female model when class had begun. Nodding his acceptance and rolling his eyesmore at himself than at herhe agrees, "Fair is fair."

"So, what do you say we have a seat?"

"Okay." They sit on a wooden bench nearby and watch as colors form on the horizon. "I'm sorry about the way I was acting. I shouldn't have made you feel like I think you are unattractive. Whether you are 'my type' or not, though, I do think you are beautiful." She listens but doesn't analyze his words too much. The moment is relaxed. If he feels like getting some things off of his chest, all the better. "And just so we're clear, tall and brunette isn't really my type anymore."

"No?" she hums. "Since when? I've seen those magazines you like. Are you into blonds now?"

He knows she is toying with him. She is being facetious and genuinely curious at the same time. It seems to Mulder that she is trying to only sound facetious. "No, I'm not. I've never been into blonds." They both cringe at his poor choice of wording. "I mean, they've never been my type. And I guess, tall and brunette hasn't been my type for a few years."

"What changed your mind?"

What? Or who? "I don't know," he shrugs, watching the sun fall behind the trees.

Scully slumps sadly against the back of the bench. "Let's go home, Mulder. It's late."

He knows what she wanted him to say, and he would have loved nothing more than to be able to, but there is too much at risk. Mostly, a friendship he values way too much about to muck up. "Okay."