Disclaimer: This show and its main characters belong to Chris Carter and 1013 productions. I own Nester, Driscoll and their counterparts.

A/N This chapter is M, so don't say I didn't warn ya.

Chapter 8

Mulder opened the passenger door of the Lincoln LS and sat down in the seat. He leaned back against the headrest and pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to relieve the headache that suddenly plagued him.

"Did you tell her?" Nester asked from the driver's seat of the sedan. He looked over at Mulder in anticipation of his response.

"Yes," Mulder replied, closing his eyes.

"Did she take the bait?"

"Yes." Mulder sat up in his seat and reached for his coffee sitting in the cup holder. He sighed and took a sip.

"Well, geezus, don't sound so excited," Nester replied dejected.

"I am! Don't take me wrong. I… ahhh… I don't know…There was something in her voice that has me worried," Mulder replied, taking another drink from the cup.

"She's probably shook up. She just had a near death experience. Shit. That would shake anybody up," Nester replied picking up his own coffee.

Mulder stared out the window of the car and tapped on the glass. "Ahh, I don't think that's it … at least not entirely." He continued tapping the passenger side glass with his fingernail caught in thought. "She had a strange look on her face at the airport, like she was upset and trying to hide it from me. Then she gave me the cold shoulder on the plane. At the hospital she begged me to let her stay," Mulder was quiet for a moment and then looked over at Nester. "Something is off."

"Your weird meter is registering in the red?" Nester laughed.

"What?" Mulder looked at him confused. "Weird meter?"

Nester stuck a wad of Big League bubble gum in his mouth and worked it around until he could blow a bubble. "Dude, you have like a 7th sense about stuff… but not the normal stuff...the stuff everyone else misses that ends up biting ya on the ass." He popped another bubble and then looked at Mulder. "Its like that junk DNA Scully talks about. Yours is turned on, like a weird meter."

"Okaay," Mulder replied slowly. He couldn't decide if that was a compliment or not.

"Personally I think it's cool. It would make working our cases a hell of a lot easier." He blew another bubble and snapped it back into his mouth. "I'd probably get in less trouble if mine worked."

Mulder nodded, but made no further comment. His mind was still on Scully, trying to figure out what was wrong with her. He thought back to the day when she told him she was dating Cramer.

He had run into them in the hallway, by the copier, literally. He was coming back from the library and had his nose stuck in a file. Cramer was squatting in front of the copier attempting to remove a paper jam from the machine. Scully was standing next to him, making idle small talk. As Mulder rounded the corner, he stumbled right over the top of Cramer, who was blocking the corridor. Mulder dropped the file on the floor and Scully had to catch him before he scored his head first slide into the base. Cramer didn't even apologize for being in the way and acted like it was Mulder's fault for tripping over him. Scully's face was flushed, and she appeared embarrassed by the incident, but later confessed to Mulder that Cramer had asked her out to dinner.

Dinner became a movie, then the art fair, a gallery opening, the museum and finally he didn't even bring it up anymore because he just didn't want to know. And his personal time with his partner … well, let's just say that he spent more time with her at work and less time anywhere else.

Cramer seemed to be a man of few words. In Mulder's opinion Scully was carrying the relationship. Whenever he heard Scully talking to him on the phone or near her desk it seemed like she was doing all the talking and Cramer was just agreeing with her. The only time he even heard the guy say more than two words was when he was discussing budget cuts.

Mulder shifted in his seat again and looked at his watch. It was only 6 p.m., They had five more hours to go before their relief got there. Mulder's back, shoulder and neck were cramping up again and he was in dire need of some ibuprofen. He grabbed the seat lever and pushed it back all the way, then stretched his leg out as far as the car would let him. He groaned softly and rubbed his hand across his brow.

"You ever talk to Cramer?" He asked Nester, out of the blue.

"Well, I've learned to avoid it, but yeah," Nester replied.

"Why?"

"Ughh! Because he has about as much personality as a dead fish," Nester rolled the window down and tossed his gum out. "That's why I was so stunned when you said Scully was dating him. They seem so opposite – like not even on the same planet opposite." He paused a moment and then added. "No pun intended."

Mulder closed his eyes and barely moved in his seat. "None taken." He was quiet for another second. "He doesn't seem to talk much."

Nester spit out a laugh. "You obviously have never sat with him in the cafeteria at lunch. He talks non-stop about black jack and poker. He, Fritz and a couple of other guys play cards on Friday nights. Otherwise he can bore your ear off discussing accounting crap. How he can figure stuff out by studying actuarial tables, statistics, and whatever. And if he ever audits your expense reports… watch out…. He'll make suggestions on how you can save money on food by packing baloney sandwiches with your luggage." Nester rolled his eyes, reflecting on how painful his audit had been.

The two men sat in silence for an hour staring out of the windshield of the car. Finally Nester picked up the binoculars and started looking around the neighborhood, specifically into the window of the home of their suspect. He watched the man as he stared at the wall and then smashed a bug with his shoe.

"Scully into bugs?" he asked still looking through the binoculars.

"She hates bugs. Why?" Mulder replied.

"Cramer collects them," Nester commented setting the goggles on the seat.

"What?" Mulder asked rolling his head to the left.

"Yeah. He told me about it during my audit. I was trying to get him to overlook some receipts and I acted like I was interested. The next day he brought in pictures of his collection."

Mulder lifted his head from the seatback and stared at Nester bewildered. "Dead bugs? He brought in pictures of them?"

"Yeah. Seriously! Ask Dris if you don't believe me. He had them all framed in little shadow boxes and categorized." Nester shuddered at the memory. "He was pretty proud of it. I personally had the creeps for a week."

Mulder sat in silence for a moment slightly miffed at Nester's revelation. "He must have other interests besides bugs and accounting. Scully was bragging to me how he took her to the museum, the art gallery, the Greek festival," Mulder growled in frustration.

"I doubt it. The only other interest he told me about is this accounting club that he goes to on Saturday mornings," Nester replied. "Hence the reason that he is called the 'Geek'."

"For someone who doesn't talk to him much, you seemed to know a lot about him." Mulder looked at him suspiciously.

"I told you, my expense reports were being audited and he was the guy doing it, so I made nice and pretended like I was his friend. He opened up a little," Nester replied defensively. "It was before you told me about Scully."

Mulder nodded and said nothing. He was a little defensive himself.

"Anyway," Nester continued. "I get the impression that Cramer isn't into that other stuff. He just indulges Scully because …" he trailed off and didn't answer.

Mulder got his point and was grateful that his friend wasn't going to verbalize it. Cramer indulged her interests because it got him closer to her. He shuddered at the thought of Scully in that man's arms.


Six hours later, Mulder walked into his motel room and tossed his keys on the dresser. Their relief had been late and Nester had finally grown some balls and just driven off. Mulder was irritated about Scully's relationship, sore from the soft tissue injures he received in the crash and completely exhausted from his lack of sleep.

Mulder stripped out of his jeans & t-shirt and threw them on the floor. He walked naked into the bathroom and turned the shower on hot. He removed his wrist brace and flexed his fingers gingerly, feeling the pain of the torn ligaments and strained muscles in his wrist. He tossed the brace on the counter and stepped under the spray as the water heated up. He leaned his arms against the wall under the shower head and hung his head down, letting the hot liquid work its magic on the sore muscles of his back and neck. After he felt more relaxed, he washed his hair, grabbed the soap and began to lather the rest of his body.

As he did, thoughts of Scully filtered through his mind, the passionate feeling she evoked in him, the rush he felt on the plane, her soft lips grazing his skin, and her gentle caress on his chest. The images aroused him and he took extra care to lather himself until he was slick and soapy.

Mulder rested his right arm against the shower wall and leaned into his stance. He stroked himself firmly with his left hand as he imagined touching Scully intimately, running his fingertips along the side of her stomach and breast, listening to her breath catch in her throat, kissing the base of her neck.

The soapy film on his skin and the tightness of his grip created just enough friction to simulate the feeling of his thrusting inside her. He lifted his face to the shower stream and allowed the water to cascade over it, replacing it with the euphoria he would feel as their bodies became one. He bit his lip as he envisioned nibbling on her breast, their warm skin upon each other, moving in perfect time to the music and a low moan escaped his throat. As he felt the intensity build, he increased the pressure and quickened the strokes imaging her fingernails grazing his skin as she ran them up his back. He pursed his lips and closed his eyes, looking at her in his mind, locking their eyes in a hypnotic trance, feeling her release as she gave herself to him, connecting as he kissed her soft lips, long and deep. With gritted teeth and short shallow breaths, Mulder cried out her name as he brought himself to an explosive finish. He tilted his head back, gasping for air, and held himself firmly.

"Aghhh, fuck," Mulder mumbled as he felt relief wash over him and he tried to control his ragged breaths. "That was almost better than a pain pill." A satisfied expression crawled across his face and he rolled his neck to relax. He returned to his earlier pose, leaning against the shower wall, head down toward his chest. He breathed heavily, staring hypnotically at the shower drain, as the water ran over his skin. Scully still taunted his thoughts as he imagined sharing the shower with her. After a few minutes, he shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind and finished washing himself. He stepped out of the shower, dried off quickly and wrapped the small towel around his waist. He walked out to the desk, picked up the Target bag, and retrieved the hair brush, toothpaste, toothbrush and boxer shorts he had bought earlier. He combed his hair and brushed his teeth and then put on the wrist brace again He took two pain relievers the doctor had prescribed to him, donned a fresh pair of boxers and then walked back over to the bed.

He stretched out on the mattress and yawned. His muscles were relaxed, the first time in what seemed like days. He scrunched a pillow under his head and stuck one between his legs, then rolled over on his side and drifted off to sleep.


The light tapping on the door brought Scully out of her dreams. She looked around the room, bewildered, and then took a deep breath, relaxing back into the pillow when she remembered where she was.

"Come in," she answered, her breathing still slightly ragged.

A young woman quietly opened the door and peeked her head inside. Scully could tell by the family resemblance that she was a Driscoll. She was in her 20's, with her brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was wearing a navy blue Clarke College sweatshirt and khakis.

"Ms. Dana, Uncle Tom is downstairs for you," she commented, looking over at Scully. She watched for a second as Scully struggled to get up, and then walked over to the bed to lend a hand.

Scully freshened up a bit in the bathroom before she made her way to the living room. She found A.D. Driscoll standing near the piano, gently fingering the tops of the keys. He noticed her reflection in the mirror and turned to greet her.

"You're looking much better. I see the rest has done some good. How do you feel?" he asked, with concern in his voice.

Scully looked down at the floor, and crossed her arms across her chest. "Better sir. I'm just a little stiff, though. Thank you."

"Good," he paused slightly and understood that he was making her nervous. "I brought you some dinner. Nan is at work and Joe got called out with the fire department, so I didn't want you to starve. My wife fixed you an extra plate." He inclined his head to the right and nodded. "Kelly is warming it up for you in the kitchen."

Scully sat back on the arm of the couch and tried to relax. Her whole body was sore, even her legs, but the idea of eating was making her hungry. "Thank you. I appreciate it, sir."

Driscoll waved his hand and smiled at her. "Okay. One thing you need to know. I hate being called "sir". Reminds me too much of the military. The only time my agents call me that is when I'm chewing their ass … so it's either "Tom" or "Driscoll" or "Poppa D."

That finally drew a smile from Scully. "Okay, then I guess it's Driscoll." She chuckled slightly as she tried to imagine herself calling him 'Poppa D'. She felt a sharp pain in her chest and grimaced. She rested her hand on her chest and took a shallow breath.

He watched the pain flash across her face and knew that he shouldn't keep her much longer. He walked across the room and looked out the window at the front of the room. "I know Jeff got you a rental car earlier today, but I just don't think it's a good idea for you to be driving tomorrow." He turned around and looked at her. "You know my daughter Tracy?"

"Yeah, I met her when she was in visiting Jeff and Amy." Scully replied pushing herself slowly off the couch. Driscoll was making her nervous with his pacing and she suddenly felt that she should be standing.

"She is going to come over and take you shopping tomorrow…to get some fresh air and what not. I'll bring your personal items over when I get home from the office. Your partner said you just wanted your wallet, correct?"

She pursed her lips and nodded. "Everything else is probably ruined."

"Well, yeah, everything was soaked, so your laptop is toast. The luggage," he frowned and shook his head. "Might as well just 86 it and start over new."

The words hung over her head like frozen water. Start over new, she repeated in her head, in more ways than one.

Driscoll stared at Scully when she didn't respond and noticed the far off look in her eye. She probably has a lot going on inside, he thought and decided it was time to leave. He walked to the doorway and patted her lightly on the shoulder.

"Dana, take my advice … Get in the whirlpool tub tonight. Kelly is a nursing student and can help you. It will make you feel a lot better." He took the two steps to the door and waved goodbye to her.


As Scully settled her aching body into the hot swirling water of the whirlpool, she was glad she had listened to the Assistant Director. Of course, the whole family and the other guests in the house had been selling the benefits of the tub to her as well. The hot water from the jets massaged and teased her sore muscles and put a smile on her face.

She took a deep breath, sank back against the jet, and closed her eyes. This was the first time she felt at ease in over a day. As the jets worked the stress out of her limbs, tears ran down her face, and she was quickly overcome with emotion.

The incident with Cramer bubbled to the surface first. The dirty feeling that remained after their encounter had tainted her body since before she left for the airport. She had taken a quick shower before leaving the house, but the feeling had stuck, and set her mood for when she encountered Mulder. He didn't seem to notice her distress when she got to the gate, which frustrated her because she wanted to talk about it, needed to shed her skin like a snake.

As the fog lifted from her head, Scully remembered Mulder asking her more than once if she was alright and she had given her customary 'fine' response. Again she had pushed him away, just as he was reaching out to her. She thought about her reaction to him at times and why he put up with it…with her. She wanted the closeness they shared, but wouldn't admit her feelings to him. No wonder he went back to 'the fowl', she thought quietly to herself. We gave up on each other.

Scully opened her eyes and stared hypnotically at the swirling water in the tub, her mind reeling back to a night they shared on the couch, watching a movie together. There had been a chill in the air and she had snuggled next to Mulder under the blanket. Within minutes she felt his arousal pressed against her backside, safely restrained in his jeans. Neither one of them had said a word and they'd barely moved for fear of the repercussions. He had gently traced the outline of her ear with his finger while she massaged the heel of his hand. His breath had been hot on the back of her neck as he brushed his lips across it. She hadn't resisted when he snaked his hand under her shirt and teased her nipple with his fingertips.

Scully shifted her seat in the tub, causing one of the side jets to hit her upper thigh. She sat like this for a minute, drifting back to the memory of that night on the couch. She lifted her hand to her face, running a finger teasingly across her lower lip and slowly moved her legs apart, repositioning herself and pulling her leg into her chest, allowing the jet to target the mound between her legs. A wave of euphoria shuddered through her veins. Her mind jogged back to the memory, and how she dreamt the episode should have played out.

As the water pounded her delicate spot, she imagined Mulder rolling her over, covering her face and neck with soft kisses. Scully continued to rub her finger lightly across her lip, while she moved a hand to her breast and began to gingerly knead her nipple. In her mind, Mulder was massaging her breast, cupping it softly in his hand, as while he thrust himself against her mound fluidly. The rhythmic pulse of the jet, the sensation the pressure on her nipple, the teasing dance on her lips, and the image of Mulder over her took her to the edge quickly.

She arched her spine slightly and rolled her head back against the tub, her breaths ragged in her throat, the pressure on her spot steady and strong. Scully felt the release wash over her several times, like waves against the shoreline. She moaned quietly to herself, whispering his name in time to the shudders that were raging through her. After a few seconds, she put her leg down and shifted her position so the jet was hitting her outer thigh again. She relaxed into the jet again and took a moment to catch her breath. After a few minutes, the jets on the tub fell silent.

Kelly came into the room shortly afterwards and helped Scully towel off, reposition the wrap and dress into her pajamas. Scully padded down the hallway wrapped in the bathrobe provided and entered her room at the end of the hall. She was surprised at the turndown service Kelly had provided and even found a mint on her pillow. She stepped into the bathroom, brushed her teeth and took her medication for the night. When she had finished her routine, she walked over to the bed and slowly climbed in. Scully picked up the cell phone thinking about Mulder and stared at it, contemplating her actions. Then she returned the phone to the nightstand. She reached over, shut off the light and settled in for a restful night of sleep.