Chapter 3
I had the second glass of exquisite red wine, sweet and refreshing at the same time, for the night.
For the first time I came here with Melissa shortly before my abduction by Duane Barry. I remember making stupid and ridiculous excuses for not stepping inside, but Melissa had none of it; she just laughed at me and finally almost forced me to enter the pub 'Sweet Rose'. Then our get-together dragged on till midnight. Missy told me about her thorny path to self-discovery and picked my brain for information about my job and my new partner.
She was going to NYC and tried to talk me into going with her. After our father's death we saw each other quite rarely, and Melissa didn't tend to call either me or Mom too often. We could only wonder what she was doing back then. It royally pissed off Bill Junior, who was trying to put her on the right track, but being a true Scully, Melissa brushed him off without much efforts on her part, so eventually he gave up, coming to terms with our sister's life style.
According to Mom, when I was in a coma, Melissa rushed to the hospital to 'ascertain how much Dana's aura has suffered.' I remembered a crystal chime of the pendants on her wristband and her attempts to 'clear my way to the light' as she filled my hospital room with various protective charms and other things, whose true meaning was known only to her.
And I still remember how Mulder cringed as he came to see me and run into Missy. He all but fled from the room after he'd given me his present and my cross. Melissa just offered me an enigmatic smile in response to my questioning look. My sweet, wonderful big sister! How much I'd missed you!
Oh God, it was so long ago! In fact, I promised her to meet again in this cozy place some day. But that just wasn't meant to be- Missy'd passed away three years ago after being shot in the head. She died instead of me. It happened when Mulder and I were trying to decipher the DoD files, which contained proofs of the extraterrestrials' existence and human experiments, conducted by the US Government.
Everything went south back then: I was suspended and on the verge of firing from the FBI, while Mulder was wanted for the murder of his own father, Bill Mulder. The last had worked for the U.S. Department of State in his days and definitely known a great deal of Government's practices. To get those files back and cover up their machinations, the men from the shadow Government was ready to go to any lengths. Mulder himself barely escaped being killed.
We had to endure many ordeals and pay a heavy price for the chance to get a little closer to the truth-
I took a gulp of wine.
I'd never been at this pub after Melissa's death, but today I felt like visiting this nice place, full of sweet memories and disposing to reflection.
The last several days had tragic repercussions, making me crave for some time alone to get over everything I'd endured.
Cassandra Spender's disappearance, those burned bodies at El Rico Air Force Base, and Agent Spender's voluntary resignation made Assistant Director Alvin Kersh grudgingly reassign Mulder and me to the X-files division. My partner suspected that some bigwigs at the Government and the FBI took a hand in all that Syndicate mess, but as always, there wasn't any hard evidence to support his conspiracy theory.
"Scully, you're reaching".
"I know her, Scully. You don't-"
That argument at the Lone Gunmen's place came to my mind unbidden.
Another sip of wine.
On the threshold of the impending Apocalypses, Mulder managed to put his trust into the most unreliable and suspicious person - Diana Fowley. To make matters worse, it turned out she'd been his ex-girlfriend and partner when he'd started working on the X-files. She'd supported him and approved his every single step unlike the red-headed parvenu he'd considered me to be for a long time.
How did Frohike call her? 'Good-looking?'
Diana's participation in kidnapping of Cassandra Spender and keeping two Federal Agents at Fort Marlene without any explanation was enough to hold her responsible. But he swallowed it obediently and even had the nerve to stick up for her when I tried to expose her lies.
As to myself, I'd never trusted Agent Fowley.
When Mulder and I were assigned to the Gibson Praise case, Diana eagerly backed up my partner's theory that the boy's exceptional abilities had saved him from a sniper's bullet during the chess game with the Russian Grand Master.
Mulder had always told me trust no one, but while he regarded his ex-girlfriend with caution, he let himself be fooled by her words. He'd better be on guard and question Diana timing. Why did she come back and support him now? Regardless of that suspicious circumstance, Mulder was sure that Agent Fowley had his and the X-files project best interests at heart.
I was seething inwardly but refrained from making a scene in front of my partner. The situation had been heating up gradually until something unexpected happened: Diana caught a bullet, guarding Gibson.
In the aftermath of all those events, Mulder and I were kicked out of the division.
It was obvious for me that Diana pursued her own selfish interests, but I couldn't do anything about it. When I tried to open Mulder's eyes, he stubbornly refused to take my reasons into consideration. And it was his big mistake.
Nominally, Diana had spent seven years in Europe working for the counter-terrorism department. I found out that, in fact, she'd been collecting data on the definite members of MUFON – female abductees – and turning it over to somebody in Tunisia. However, the failed attack on Gibson Praise made her come back to the USA.
All evidence showed that Diana worked for the Consortium. So finally, I'd lost patience and spilled out all my suspicions and collected facts to Mulder, but he didn't believe me.
For all I care, he could keep on turning the blind eye to Diana and taking anything she says at face value only because they'd been lovers in the past, but I wasn't going to put up with his distrust any more. So, I sent him to hell.
But it seemed that something went wrong because while the members of the Consortium were eliminated, we stayed alive and got the X-files back. Maybe, there was a hope for us.
Only I couldn't work with Mulder as before. Although I openly supported him as a colleague, our personal relationships still were far from perfect.
After my conversation with Kersh, I was going to call it a night, but then I suddenly remembered that pub where Melissa and I had had a good time once. I hoped that the memories of my sister would help me to calm down.
"Excuse me, are you Irish?"
"I beg your pardon?" At first, I thought I was hearing things.
A handsome chestnut-haired stranger with sparkling blue eyes was smiling at me unbashfully. I was so deep in thought that I'd zoned out actually.
"Oh, I suppose, you're a descendant of the first settlers! Do Irish women drink whiskey?"
"I think so," I replied warily. Our small talk started helping me to get rid of my angry and morose thoughts.
"A woman with such radiant hair must have a peculiar name."
Suddenly, I felt like laughing. Nobody had used this pick-up line on me for ages. However, I must admit, I was too busy for these games. When was the last time I went out for a date?
Ah, yeah.
Philadelphia, Russians, a tattoo parlor, and- Ed Jerse.
His name triggered memories of my fight with a terminal decease. Then I often had nosebleeds but stubbornly refused to accept even a possibility of cancer.
Certainly, I'd rather never remembered that name, especially not when I felt so vulnerable. Since then I'd done my best to leave this part of my past behind.
That sorrowful taste of death, brought back by the memories of my illness, was still fresh in my mind. That was dark time when my life was overshadowed by it and hope was too weak to bring me relief.
Mulder gave me an assignment in Philadelphia, where I had to run a check on a Russian immigrant who we'd met earlier and who allegedly had some information about UFO. Back then my partner was really pissed off because the Personnel office had made him to take a week vacation, so he couldn't check his contact out himself.
I refused to go, pointing out ambiguity of his source, but he, as always, had his own way. I believe then we had our first severe disagreement.
Nevertheless, I flied to Philadelphia, where I kept a close track on that Russian. Pudovkin turned out to be a plain swindler who had nothing to do with the X-files.
Following him, I got to enter a tattoo parlor where I met Ed. He was arguing with a tattoo artist, begging him to cover the tattoo on his shoulder: a picture of a beautiful flirtatious girl in a 1940s style. We made a small talk, and then, unexpectedly for myself, I took Jerse's card. As I came back to the hotel, Mulder called, and we ended up fighting over the phone. It seemed to me that I was literally suffocating with his everlasting control over me. He was sure I wasn't capable of handling even an ordinary surveillance. My life revolved around things I didn't comprehend anymore. Everything happened mechanically, without any sense and meaning.
I said Mulder I got to go and would be out all night, so he wouldn't able to reach me. I believe he snickered, asking me if I'd got a date or something.
I wasn't used to lie, it just wasn't a part of my upbringing. As I hung up the phone, I called Mr. Jerse and asked him out.
We went to that bar he'd mentioned when we'd first met and ordered some wine. We were talking, and at some moment I realized that I started breathing easily. Later Ed suggested going to that tattoo parlor and I agreed. After all, it didn't hurt to check out Pudovkin once more. It was as good excuse as any.
What did get into me when I decided that marking my skin with a tattoo was a good idea? Looking back, I suppose I'd just wanted to do a thing that would have changed my life for the time being at least. Nobody would have ever believed Dana Scully could act so rashly. Why the hell not, I said myself and ended up with the picture of the snake, eating its own tail, on my lower back. Ed told me that everybody had a tattoo they deserved, but back then I didn't see the meaning behind his words-
Ed suggested coming back to his place and asked me to stay because the weather had worsened dramatically. I agree, cringing inwardly at the thought of my partner, calling to the hotel to check on me.
So, I stayed at Jerse's apartment, completely unaware that the tattoo ink, which had been used by the tattoo artist for my tattoo, contained ergot that might have provoked hallucinations-
While making love, he held my hands above my head, squeezing them tightly with his fingers. It hurt a little, but I didn't mind. My sweat-covered breasts slid over his chest, my legs wrapped around his waist and released it alternately.
He moved slowly at first, letting me feel every single millimetre of him as he plunged into me over and over again. His muscles tightened as our bodies collided passionately.
He bit my neck as he speeded up, pounding in earnest. I gripped his hips with my own and moved with him, trying to match his rhythm and understand what he wanted by listening to his harsh breathing attentively. I was completely opened to him, his tongue caressed my throat. As his fingers dug into my wrists with force, I felt myself on the verge of the fast approaching climax. He tensed, thrusting his hips with a vengeance, his hot breath scorched my skin, and as my release finally consumed me, the only name I could shout out was, "Muldeeer!"
I took another gulp of wine and gasped.
I couldn't ever let Mulder learn why exactly Ed Jerse had tried to burn me down in the furnace. Ever.
"Miss? Are you all right? You paled all of a sudden."
Oh, shit. I totally forgot about the chestnut-haired man with blue eyes. It seemed he was slightly taken aback by the stretching silence.
"I'm fine, it's just too hot here," I murmured.
In confirmation of my words I felt beads of sweat on my forehead. Why on Earth did I remember that incident with Jerse at all?
I came back to Washington, my face covered with bruises, the tattoo on my back hurt like a bitch. His voice dripping with sarcasm, my partner made venomous remark about my adventure and the second personal appearance in the X-files. I parried, reminding him that not everything was about him, it was my life. I think for the first time since I'd known him he found himself rendered speechless-
To say the trust, I hoped Mulder realized his mistake after he'd sent me to Philadelphia with that idiotic assignment. He got to understand that I hadn't wanted to go. To understand and acknowledge that he'd been wrong. I wanted him staying in Washington with me, hoped to hear something – anything - from him.
Back then I often contemplated those wonderful warm days that had gone forever and mutual trust we'd lost, as it seemed, forever. Neither Mulder nor I knew if it would ever come back-
I took a cab from the pub. That nice chestnut-haired man with blue eyes, whose name, as I learnt, was Robert, treated me like a gentleman when he suggested taking me home, but I declined, saying that I wasn't feeling well. Robert proved himself to be a sweet, polite, and attentive man as he ordered a bottle of mineral water, helped me to get out of the bar, and then waited patiently until I felt better. At parting he asked for my number, but I decided it was too much. I shouldn't have given him hope. Nevertheless, our meeting helped me to understand one thing: my problems stopped looking unsolvable and my mood perked up immensely. Robert insisted on calling a cab and then watched as I climbed into the vehicle. I was touched by his thoughtfulness, I really was. It came to me that I should've gone out more often – at least, once a month. Sometimes I lost sight of nice small things, capable of cheering me up. Yes, my job made an impact on everything, but I'd like to forget about it from time to time and just enjoy those simple things-
I noticed Mulder immediately. He was standing by the front entrance to my apartment building. Blood surged to my cheeks as soon as I spotted him, and it had nothing to do with alcohol I'd drunk earlier. Definitely, he was the last man I wanted to run into tonight.
What the hell was he doing here?
As I paid the cabby, I got out of the car and staggered to the front door. Totally ignoring Mulder, I neared the door and started fumbling about in the coat pocket for the keys. I wasn't so naïve to believe that Mulder would leave me alone right away, and yet his presence grated on my already strained nerves. Writing it off on wine, I tried not to pay it much attention. Well, let him stay and watch as much as he liked.
"Three glasses of wine overnight, Scully. That was quite rash of you."
How did he know how many drinks I had? Was he in that pub? Did Mulder follow me?
For now, I wasn't going to ask him about it although I didn't like any of the guesses I could think of.
I opened the front door with some effort and finally stepped in. If I didn't have those drinks, certainly, I'd realize right away that he'd tracked down my credit card I'd pay for the cab to the pub with. Apparently, Frohike had found me and then sold out to Mulder.
"Mulder, I'm a big girl, you know."
Yes, exactly what the doctor ordered! A slightly arrogant and a little bit sarcastic retort.
"I'm just delighted to hear it."
My partner stood by the door, watching my movements with some interest.
I took the coat off and dumped it on the coach in the living room. Christ, the whole situation was so annoying!
What did he take into his head this time? Did he believe that I would jump into the deep end again like I'd done a few years ago in Philadelphia? That was why he rushed here, wasn't it? Was he afraid of me failing him and his beloved X-files? Or did he hope for it to clear the way for his precious Diana? Old love does not rust, does it?
My heart beating erratically, I felt as my legs went rubbery. What was the likelihood of me being wrong? Or otherwise right?
I tried to pull myself together. This was the last straw! Nobody had ever thrown me off my stride and he wouldn't be the first.
"You've just ruined my evening, Mulder."
"Yeah, like a piece of cake," he replied, matching my acid tone.
"Oh, look who is a smart-ass here," I murmured under my breath.
"I want you looking at me, Scully! Especially, if you're accusing me of doing something wrong!" Mulder demanded.
I turned around grudgingly and glared up at Mulder, scowling. He gritted his teeth in anger, a muscle in his jaw was twitching nervously.
"Are you saying you planned to carry on your hot date with that lady's man, Scully? If that's the case, you should hurry up and catch up with him."
The sting of his words hit me to the core.
Mulder uttered that in the most nonchalant tone I'd ever heard from him.
As they say, the best defense is a good offense. I learnt that as a kid when my brothers fought with me, cutting me no slack as they treated me like a neighbor boy, not their sister. Mulder was taught by some good teachers, too, especially in Oxford, where he obtained his PhD in psychology.
My heart sank and my breath caught in my throat as I realized I couldn't take it anymore. So, I snapped.
"It's none of your concern why I went to that pub!"
"Yes, it is. I saw you naked, Scully, twice. It gives me the right to be concerned."
My cheeks must have turned crimson, because all of a sudden I felt a strong urge to lock myself in the bathroom and splash my flushed face with cold water. The strain of the day, wine, Mulder's dubious jibes took its toll on me and made my literally saw red. I was barely restraining myself from wiping this smug expression off his face with my fist.
He said that just to get a rise out of me! What a fucking asshole!
That incident at Fort Marlene was still fresh in my memory-
- Back then they rushed us to the one of the most strict decontamination center. We were ordered to strip naked and stay under the decontaminating shower until they let us get out. So, we had nothing to do but shut up and follow their orders, waiting for that humiliation to end. That was a communal shower stall, so Mulder and I were standing under the hot strays, stinking of chemicals, with just a low wall between us.
Mulder was the first to turn around and just- stare at me. For a few extremely long moments, he'd been examining me from top to toe. And I- I couldn't look away. I saw that he devoured me with his eyes. I felt his desire, rolling off of him in waves, and it terrified me. I got scared shitless of myself and the feelings, rising from the bottom of my heart, when I looked at him. Suddenly felt embarrassed, I stepped back and willed myself to turn away. I was afraid of him reading the same emotions in my eyes-
Of course, vengeance is a bad feeling, but sometimes it's the only way to take the matter in your own hands.
So, I'd made my mind.
"I saw you naked, too!"
I miscalculated.
Mulder seemed to want nothing more than hear these particular words. In a heartbeat he closed the distance between us, roughly pushed me to the wall, and pressed his groin to my stomach.
"That's what you were looking for there, isn't it?"
The room started spinning in front of me, and if Mulder didn't hold me, I'd collapse.
"What did you say?"
"I asked if you'd gone to that pub, having some specific goal in mind. No, let me paraphrase my question: were you gonna jump into bed with that jerk?"
I sobered up instantly. We were glaring at each other, standing in the room I'd always considered to be a small one, but now it felt like the impassable gulf between us. Mulder wore a stone-cold expression, and I felt sick at the thought of him assuming the very worst scenario.
"How come you ever asked me this question?"
"I want to know, Scully. So, were you gonna do that?"
He grabbed my shoulders, and for a moment, I thought he was about to kiss me. Or, maybe, hit me, I wasn't so sure. I tensed automatically, but Mulder chose the third alternative: he just shook me - once, twice – but so hard my teeth clattered.
"Let me go!"
"Not before you answer me!"
"What for? You've already made up your mind, haven't you? That' s why you were spying on me and then rushed here to make sure I wouldn't do anything stupid like I'd done back then, in Philadelphia." I raised my voice.
I'd gotten carried away and couldn't control myself anymore.
"Are you dating him?"
"It's none of your business!" I finally lost my temper, shaking uncontrollably as residual alcohol in my bloodstream and the overwhelming rage made its present felt.
His fingers dug into my skin, hurting me. Mulder was standing so close to me he almost brushed my hair with his lips.
"So, you're not that good girl you're pretending to be, are you, Scully?" he said in a dangerously low voice.
In any other situation I'd definitely kick anyone's ass for calling me 'girl', but right now I just blinked in bewilderment.
His hands slid down my torso slowly and stopped on my hips eventually. As his fingers started moving up and down the smooth fabric of my skirt, I run my tongue over my lips nervously, feeling my pulse racing. Mulder lowered his head a bit, so now his breath caressed my ear and neck. Not changing his position, he ended up pressing his palm to my lower back.
Slightly pulling back, Mulder looked down at me, and his gaze sent shivers all over my body.
When he placed his other palm on my side, I felt a sudden prick of fear but couldn't hide from him – it was too late for escape. My arms lowered and hung limply at my sides.
It felt like the place on my body where his cock was pressing into me was going to burst into flame any minute.
His fingers sinking into my hair, he slightly tugged them down, throwing back my head and exposing my throat. I gasped as his lips started nipping at the skin they uncovered there. He pulled me closer to him, making me surrender under his pressure.
Once he squeezed my breast with one hand, I screwed up my eyes involuntary. His erection was still pressing into my stomach as his other hand grasped my ass cheek, effectively pinning me to his body.
I lost touch with reality, completely giving up to those feeling he was arousing within me by his caresses, neither hearing nor seeing anything around me. I'd turned into the sheer desire I'd been denying for so long, fighting with it and losing eventually, as it seemed.
He was looking at me as though he didn't give a damn about anything but me.
Mulder pulled the hem of my skirt up to get access to that hidden place between my thighs, and I felt as his fingers moved aside the fabric of my panties, finding the wet heat underneath.
His eyes widened slightly, a soft sigh escaped his parted lips. I jerked under such intimate touch and couldn't help but moan.
If Mulder didn't hold me, I'd drop down to the ground because my knees buckled. Not wasting any time, he pushed his fingers inside me, and I clenched my fists so tight that the fingernails dug into my palms. His every stroke made me shake uncontrollably.
Mulder pinned me with his gaze, and I couldn't hide my reaction to the circular movements of his fingers over the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves.
At the moment, my entire life was focusing on this man. On his hand. On his eyes. On his cock, pressing into my stomach persistently.
Mulder thread his fingers through my hair again and caressed the back of my head, not allowing me to pull away. His every movement deepened the contact of my pelvic with his hand, bringing me closer to the inevitable release.
My body demanded the only one thing capable of easing this growing tension. At that moment, I couldn't think of anything but my pleasure. Mulder's gaze shifted down to my breast, as my nipples turned to the hard pebbles.
And than I was hit by a sudden doubt. Was it really happening?
No, I couldn't let it happen.
I could not! Could I?
I felt my climax building up. I was going to come, stimulated by his hand, and cared less about everything else. One second, two- for a moment, an idea flashed across my mind that I was on the verge of passing out from intensity of my pleasure.
His hot breathing scalded my skin as he nipped on my ear, whispering, "Come on, Scully, come for me."
I bit my lip to keep from crying out, my pulse beating in my ears. Contractions of the inner muscles during my orgasm made me moan over and over again-
He didn't loosen his hold on me, pressing me to him as I was trembling feverishly. I dimly registered that he was covering my chin and throat with kisses and tried to take a breath but found that I just wasn't able to at first.
My next attempt turned out to be more successful, and I felt some changes in my body: it felt relaxed but completely drained of energy and slightly numb. My heart rate steadied, my legs could sustain my weight again, and my breathing slowed down.
After all that just transpired between us, I didn't dare to look up and meet Mulder's eyes. I felt hot all of a sudden, my face flushed as a bitter guess stunned me: what if he'd used sex to control me?
Mulder slid his lips over my earlobe, bringing me back to the present.
"So, who are you, Scully?" he asked in a low, muffled voice, resting his forehead against mine.
'I am Dana Scully! Your partner. Your best friend. The only one you trust. Or- trusted?'
'What point did you try to prove tonight, Mulder?'
'What about Diana? Will you come back to her now? What does this never-ending guilt of yours feel like, Mulder?'
'What happens next?'
I wanted to throw all these questions into his face, but instead I just disengaged myself from his embrace and headed for the bedroom, avoiding meeting his eyes. I was shivering but not from cold. I felt like Alice, falling down the rabbit hole.
I paused at the threshold and without turning back said monotone, "I'll be on time for work tomorrow. Slam the door shut on your way out, please."
In a few seconds, as the door closed with a deafening bang, I finally turned around and saw that the plaster had fallen off the wall in some places and crumbled on the floor.
I was alone. Again.
