Chapter 2

Of course, I knew that our relationships would be rather complicated.

My work on the X-files stuck in FBI bigwigs' throats. I suspected that the top echelons of power were involved in abductions of people and was sure that they weren't going to handle me with kid gloves. I had allies in the government, but the further I got in my search for the trust the more often my sources refused to have deal with me.

But Scully helped me with everything. So, her abduction became a logical outcome of our searches. The force, I tried to fight against, stabbed me into the most vulnerable and sensitive spot.

After Scully's abduction I felt the same devastating emotions as with my sister's disappearance: horror, powerlessness, emptiness.

I tormented myself with all bitterness I was capable of. Insomnia and rancor became my constant companions. The people, who dealt with me out of necessity, tried to avoid me like a plague. I turned from spooky to a ghost.

Once a week I called up Mrs. Scully to tell her the same news she'd been fed up with by then, undoubtedly: I didn't know where her daughter was and what was happening to her. Mrs. Scully endured that suspense stoically, and I was envious of her fortitude.

I was waiting for a miracle and asked for it, although I'd never believed in God.

It was very bitter time.

She was returned when everybody lost their hopes. They just dumped her in the hospital. I dashed around like a wounded animal, trying to find and punish those who had been responsible for her abduction. I was brought to my senses by Mr. X who put the gun to my head and gave me good advice to forget everything and just go on with my life.

Whoever were those people behind Scully's abduction, they went to great lengths to get what they wanted. There was a very slim chance, one in a million, actually, that she would survive. I had to back off.

When I got into Scully's hospital room and saw her tender smile, I realized that I'd just returned my sister Samantha to some extent.

Whimpering, my demon hid into the deepest hole of my consciousness.

So, I didn't call her a red-headed wench anymore. Was I happy with that turn of events? I didn't dwell on it much back then. She was alive, worked by my side, and still believed in me.

That was a perfect partnership.

Scully found holes in my theories and patched them, saving my ass from our superiors with their attempts to put it in a sling.

We hovered on the verge of acceptable liberties and innuendoes but were okay with it.

I didn't pry into her personal life. Was she seeing somebody back then? Probably, no. I didn't let myself get distracted, so why should she have had such opportunity?

And besides, it was my hand on Scully's lower back.

If I had paid more attention, maybe I'd have noticed how wan and drawn she looked that day we had a fight. Perhaps, if I had, I'd have insisted on her taking a day off, sent her to her mother. Mrs. Scully always had a good influence on her daughter.

But the chain of events had been already set in motion.

I got lost in an idyll, which existed only in my own head. At last I went too far and adopted a role of a boss again. I liked that I was still played first fiddle in our part. I gave orders and she followed them, no questions asked, our arrangement suited her just fine. So it seemed to me.

Control, control, and more control, as I tended to repeat inwardly.

And before I knew it, my demon crawled out of his hole and gave himself a shake.

The FBI sent me on a mandatory leave. I sketched out the case, I had charged Scully with, and was certain that she would do as I asked her without complains and set off for the assignment in Philadelphia obediently. But Scully said no.

She had taken me down a peg, telling me in no uncertain terms that I wasn't her superior, for the first time since we met.

I smirked and said that it was up to her either went to Philadelphia or not. Then I made sure to cut as deep as possible, having reminded her about importance of the X-files and my mission, which was inextricably connected with that division.

She didn't argue only said that her own life was standing still.

But I'd already get the bit between my teeth. Scully's refuse pushed me over the edge, became a proverbial red flag for a bull.

I announced that it was for the best for us to get away from each other for a while and wished her success in discovering something new about herself.

Several days later I was called up to Philadelphia. Scully had ended up in the hospital with traces of ergot in her bloodstream. According to Detective Smith, who investigated Ed Jerse, 'Agent Scully's fallen for a guy whose tattoo, as it seems, took on a life of its own.'

Blinding rage flooded my mind, so I realized just a little too late that I grabbed ahold of the Detective's coat lapel.

"What are you talking about?!"

"You partner got drunk in a bar, got a tattoo on her ass, and screwed a psycho!"

My fist made a connection with Detective's jaw. Blood spurted out in all directions, and it brought me to my senses.

"I strongly recommend you to keep your big mouth shut," with that mocking advice I left the hospital.

My demon laughed himself silly.

So, just like that? Got a tattoo and screwed the first one who came along?

What was I supposed to do next? Kill Jerse? Kill Scully? Make her tell me everything? How could we work together after all this mess?

That's what happens when you loosen control.

I got back to my room, stripped down to my underwear, and fell on the bed. Scully was going to spend a couple of days more in the hospital, so I wasn't in a hurry.

I realized what would follow when I'd be done with questions I wanted to get answers to so much. My profiler skills had never failed me.

I closed my eyes and envisioned Scully. How did she meet Jerse? When she was following Pudovkin? She asked me not to interfere by coming to Philadelphia, assuring me that everything was under control.

She wanted to know how it felt – to control the situation, didn't she? What was her point?

Why did she go to that bar? Scully and a sleazy bar, how was it possible, anyway?

I groaned, turned to my stomach, and burrowed my face in a pillow.

Dusk was falling on Philadelphia, and I was getting more and more nervous.

My demon hastened and prodded me, inviting to follow Scully and walk up the stairs to Jerse's apartment. He had already stocked up with paints and a canvas.

I'd gone through it once when I'd been locked up in that storage in Ice cape.

But this time everything was different. Scully was making me see her point. She was punishing me for my cluelessness, deafness, and heartlessness. And she was using the only method that men understood for it. The one I wanted to use once, too.

Back then I'd wanted to apply force for bending her to my will. I'd been ready to take advantage of her.

My demon giggled. Like teacher, like pupil. Come on, he whispered, you can see everything with your own eyes, you know you want it-

I was shivering uncontrollably, my skin was on fire as though I had a fever, but I couldn't stop myself anymore.

-The storm roars outside, throwing handfuls of stones and rain drops into the windows. The light in the room is turned down low. The tension between us is growing exponentially. The booze has made us braver. As her hand covers my forearm, a sudden throb of sharp pain shoots through it. The tattoo! Hell, I completely forgot about it.

I grab her arm, and we are struggling. She is looking in my eyes intently. Her mouth is slightly opened, and I hear her fast irregular breathing. I can sense barely perceptible smell of alcohol in it, and it turns me on immediately. I lean over her, pulling her closer, and grasp her wrists. A sigh of pleasure falls from her lips, making me lose it completely. It seems that she came to me for sex. She pushes me, so I lose my balance and find myself on the bed. We keep on struggling. I'm not going to fuck around, no pun intended, so I press her to the mattress with my body and twist her arms a little. She gives a shriek, and it was almost more than I could take. She still tries to regain control over the situation, but I don't allow it. I nudge her legs apart with my knee and lean all my weight on her. I whisper, "So, Red, wanna found out who is the boss here: you or me?" and then capture her lips with my own.

She doesn't answer but moans instead, trying to get free, but I don't release her, pushing my tongue between her lips forcefully. Her tender wet mouth drives me crazy with desire, bringing closer to the point of no return. She stops squirming, and I feel that her body is strained to the limit. I trail a long wet path with my tongue down to her collarbone, slightly biting the hot skin there. Then I shift and pressure my erection to her pubic bone. She gives another shriek, and I can't wait anymore. We both are pushed to the limits.

I slide my hand into her pants, moving her panties aside, and stick two fingers inside without further delay. Not being able to control myself, I rub my cock over her crotch and push my fingers even deeper. I feel her shivering, while her inner muscles are contracting around my fingers. I found her clitoris with my thumb and start circling it rhythmically. My cock is pulsing along with the convulsions that are running through her body. Her mouth is slightly opened, sweat pearls over her upper lip, and I feel her wet heat with my palm-

Having groaned hoarsely, I climaxed-

The storm was stilling outside.

I opened my eyes, run my hand over the bedspread, and grimaced. So, I'd just given a maid a reason for tongue wagging.

My demon smirked smugly. I had nothing to say against it.

Scully beat me with my own weapon, played me for a fool I was. It was time to put an end on that and take the bull by its horns, so to speak. It had gone on long enough!

As soon as we were back in Washington, everything would gonna change, I decided.

And it did change. Scully was diagnosed with cancer.