a/n: Review, but try not to be too mean. Have I mentioned I've never written anything like this before? And, I would like to apologize in advance. I was surprised too... sort of. But this is the MSR-filled chapter I promised the other day.


Mulder and I settled on a small café near my apartment for lunch. I was amused to see Mulder glance at the menu, toss it aside and order a burger with everything and a side of fries. Again, something so typically 'Mulder' that I could hardly believe he didn't have access to his life's memories. We chatted about some of the case files he had read over as we waited for our food. Mulder was intrigued, to say the least, and was almost excited at the prospect of learning more.

"I noticed you brought a file with you from the office," I said, "which one?" He glanced away and some of the exuberance that had characterized the last few minutes ebbed. That told me which file it had been before he answered,

"My sister's," his voice was so quiet that if I hadn't known what he was going to say, I may not have heard his reply. I reached out a hand across the wooden to him and he took it without hesitation.

"Mulder," I began, but he cut in immediately.

"Scully, I read your file, you saw that. I didn't get through everything in it, but it was plenty to tell me that I've put you through hell." He looked away from me and out the café's window as if searching for words. "I need to know why I allowed you, of all people, Scully, you to be taken, to be shot at… For Christ's sake, Scully you had to shoot me because of this, this insane quest I've been on. Why?" He brought his face back around to look at me and my heart nearly broke again.

The thing inside of him that was broken the night his sister was taken was smashed to pieces again. My feeling of sorrow and anguish for him evaporated so quickly it startled even me. I jerked my hand back to my side of the table and laid into him.

"Dammit, Mulder, none of those things are your fault. I have a say in what happens in my life more so that you ever have. If you're responsible for all the terrible things that have happened then who is responsible for all the wonderful things that have happened? Is it you? No, it's not you. Hell, Mulder, it's not even me who's responsible." Holy God, where did that come from? I thought.

It was my turn to look away and regroup. I was thinking furiously of a way to explain to him the conclusions that I had come to so recently myself. "The only people who are responsible for the unjust things that have been done to us are the people who built their lives and careers and the secrets and lies of their trade. Those men are dead, not by my hand or yours, but they were repaid the evil they willingly perpetrated on their families and other innocent people."

The waitress, with a server's usual talent, brought us our lunch. We both quietly thanked her, but continued to stare at each other over our plates. Mulder nodded a few times, slowly and fished for my hand under the table. I found it and with him gripping my fingers realized that I alone couldn't absolve him of his perceived sins. He had to find that within himself.

"I still have to know, Scully," his tone pleaded for my understanding and I granted it.

"I know," I whispered.

I had finished my turkey club and had started picking at Mulder's discarded lettuce and tomato before either of us spoke again. I noted that he still had nearly half a sandwich and most of his fries and resolved to try not to eat like a wild animal in the future.

"So, Mulder, do you have any big plans for the weekend," I asked, infusing a playful tone to my query.

"None that don't involve you, Scully," he smiled around a bite of ground beef and bun. "What did you have in mind?"

If he wanted to know what had happened the night of sister's disappearance and the nature of the subsequent investigation, I deduced that perhaps, it was a good idea for him to visit his childhood home, or rather homes.

"I thought we could go up to New England and hang around some of your old stomping grounds. The summer house your parents kept at Quonochontaug hasn't sold yet." Mulder's eyebrows were raised in a very inviting manner, so I continued with a slight coyness, "we could take the ferry over to the Vineyard, get some really good seafood," I raised one of my eyebrows and lifted a corner of my mouth. "Maybe take a walk on the beach."

Mulder swallowed a fry and gave me a coy half smile of his own, "Why Agent Scully, are you inviting me to go away with you for the weekend?"

I snaked my hand out and snagged a cold fry from his plate. I sat back in my seat with it poised over my mouth and said, "Yes, Agent Mulder, yes I do believe I am." I popped the fry in my mouth and slid out from my seat to pay for our meals.

Our playful mood followed us back to my apartment. We had a silent mutual understanding that we both preferred not to touch on matters that caused grief or angst between us. If we were to step on the hallowed ground of his past in the days to come, we needed a firm foothold on the enjoyment of each other's company to see us through it.

Mulder took another look at the printed images the Gunmen had provided us with yesterday while I, thankfully, retired to my bedroom to change my clothes. I sighed with relief as the zipper of my skirt released my, as Skinner had so delicately put it, swollen belly. With my decidedly high level of anxiety at the time, I hadn't thought to be offended by his less than flattering description of my physique. I dug out another pair of yoga pants and baggy t-shirt as a quick glance in the mirror told me I didn't have cause to be offended: it had simply been an accurate observation. I made a mental note to invite my mother to go maternity clothes shopping and soon.

I found Mulder, leaning over the table looking at the images the Gunmen had provided. He looked up at my entrance, gave me an up and down and remarked,

"You look way more comfortable than I feel. Looks as though we're relaxing this afternoon." He started pulling at his tie and undid the top button of his shirt as he made his way toward the living room. I couldn't say what possessed me to do it, but I stepped in front of him and reached my hands to assist him with the task of undoing the knot at his throat. He stood, hands on hips as I undid the loops of the tie and let the silk slide through my fingers and rested the smooth cotton of his shirt. I was on the verge of feeling suddenly shy when his hands came up from his sides, one rested on my right hand, over his heart, the other cupped my cheek. Our eyes met in the instant before our lips and I saw my own desires and fears reflected in those beautiful green orbits.

As we opened our mouths to each other, our hands began roaming. I was holding him to me, a hand pressed to the back of his neck, my fingers toying with soft, short brown hair at the base of his skull. Mulder's arms came around me and I swayed into him, our bodies meeting from chest to thighs. My body, rather obviously, had no objections to transpiring events. My mind still held reservations, however. We shouldn't, I thought, he's so vulnerable. Doubts vanished and my internal monologue was silenced when Mulder slid his hands under the back of my long t-shirt.

All higher level cognitive abilities effectively disabled, I backed toward the couch and pulled him along with me. He was all too willing to go and turned so that we ended with Mulder seated comfortably on the center cushion. I placed one knee on either side of his narrow hips and began dealing with the rest of the buttons on his shirt while continuing an exploration of his soft mouth. Mulder's big hands resumed their own exploration of the now goose pebbled flesh of my back. I vaguely heard clicking sounds behind me, but any intention of turning away from the man under me melted as his hands circled around my rib cage and…

A high pitched and surprised voice rang out from the vicinity the door, "Oh! Dana! I'm so sorry, I…" I practically leapt off Mulder's lap and whirled to find my mother just over the threshold, mouth open, shopping bags in hand and face reddening by the moment. All the blood that had been previous engaged elsewhere began rushing to my own face. Hand to my heaving chest, I breathed,

"Mom, what…" But Mulder spoke up behind me.

"Mrs. Scully, how are you?" I turned back to see that Mulder had already snatched up a throw pillow which was strategically placed in his lap. He should absolutely no sign of having been startled or embarrassed. I was amazed. My mother peered around me and beamed at Mulder.

"Fox! It's so good to see you. How are you feeling? Is Dana taking good care of you?" My mother came the rest of the way into my apartment, deposited the shopping bags on the floor near the kitchen and with every evidence of matching Mulder's sangfroid, sank into the club chair opposite Mulder on the couch.

"Of course she is, Mrs. Scully. Don't you doubt that for a minute. Your daughter may be a doctor, but she also has a talent for nursing recently injured men." They both looked up at me, still standing rooted to the floor, one hand on my hip, the other still clutched my chest, holding my intimate apparel in place.

"Dana, honey, I brought you some things from a new organic market in Annapolis. I know you're too busy to shop for good food and I don't mean to be pushy, but you…

"Thanks, Mom. I really appreciate it," I interrupted. "Will you help me put it away?" I finally moved from the middle of the living room and led my mom into the kitchen. I called back to Mulder, "There's a pair of jeans of yours in the chest in my bedroom, if you want to change."

"You're the best, Scully," he said, but didn't yet move from his spot on the couch.

Once in the relative privacy of the kitchen, I arranged my disordered unmentionables and ran my hands through my hair. Feeling a bit exasperated, I began rummaging through the two paper bags Mom had set on the counter. My mom came and stood close to me and whispered,

"I really am sorry. I thought you'd still be at work. But, I'm glad you and Fox are getting on well. It took you both long enough." She glanced over her shoulder to see that Mulder had finally been able to move from the couch. We heard the sound of my bedroom door closing and Mom pulled me into a quick hug, which I only half reciprocated, stunned as I was at her expectation of me showing affection. She backed up took me by both shoulders, studying my face.

"Now let me get a look at you," and she began gushing again. "I assume you haven't told Fox about the baby. But, oh, Dana you're so beautiful. Of course that shirt you're wearing is less than flattering." I laughed and she looked surprised, but then her face softened again.

"Thanks for the compliment on my wardrobe, Mom. I was thinking, earlier, that you, uh, that you and I could maybe," I wasn't good at suggesting bonding time, obviously. "Well I need some clothes that fit; I thought maybe you'd want to come along and…" I got jerked into another hug and did my best this time, wrapping my arms loosely around my mother's shoulders.

"I'd love to." Mom sighed and then reached for offending garment saying, "now, let me see. You'll need things in a few different sizes…" I couldn't help it, I grabbed her wrist to keep her from taking ahold the shirt I wore with a startled,

"Mom!" A look of momentary hurt crossed her features and I realized what I was doing and slackened my grip. Instead of giving her back her hand entirely, I guided it to the swell of my belly and pressed my own hand on top of hers. We stood for a moment, heads down, eyes on our hands and the evidence of her impending grandchild. When I raised my head, Mom was already looking at me, tears in her eyes and a smile on her face that I had seen too rarely.

"Thank you, Dana," she whispered then sniffed and brushed away the not yet fallen tears from her eyes with her slender, yet aged index fingers. She took another step back and gave me a sharp appraisal, as I leaned against the counter, hand still resting on my stomach. She gave a short snip of a laugh and added, "I see the t-shirt isn't a fashion statement. You do need to shop."

Mulder returned from the bedroom looking more comfortable and the three of spent some time in companionable conversation. Mom couldn't help but tell stories about my childhood antics to Mulder who genuinely laughed. My mother adored Mulder and the feeling was becoming mutual again. She was the only person who could call him 'Fox' without getting a dirty look.

I was, of course, starting to feel sleepy and was starting to do my owl impression when Mom announced that she was leaving to meet a friend for dinner. With a kiss for me on the forehead and one for Mulder on the cheek, which he returned with a sweetness I had only seldom seen him display, we were left, once again to our own devices.

"So, what kind of goodies were bestowed upon us" Mulder asked with a hopeful look toward the kitchen.

"Tomatoes, radishes, spinach, kale…" I began a list of what I had unpacked from the brown paper bags and raised an eyebrow at Mulder. He had another question in response to this list,

"Thai, then?"

I nodded and grabbed the phone to call the closest place.

"Tell them it's for carryout," he said as he grabbed up his wallet and keys. "I'll pick it up on my way back."

"Where you going," I asked a bit suspiciously. Mulder turned back from the door, took a few short steps toward me and planted a kiss on my forehead.

"I have to feed my fish and I'll need some things for the weekend." Then he was out the door and gone. I ordered the food and with little hesitation determined that I had time for a short nap on the couch. I secretly enjoyed giving into bodily needs with the excuse that I should do things like eat more, take it easy, and sleep when I felt tired. After all, I was doing it for the baby. Right?

I had just settled in my favorite cozy spot on the couch and was drifting off when the sound of my cell phone interrupted my pleasant thoughts of Mulder and I having each other all to ourselves for an entire weekend. I let an irritated groan, threw the crocheted blanket off and answered with a short,

"Scully." There was static in my ear and a familiar voice snapped me back into alertness and rang alarm bells in my brain.

"Agent Scully, I know you don't want to hear from me, but there are things that you need to understand. I'd like to have an opportunity to explain them to you." He sounded desperate, but I was more than irritated, I was furious and let my tone take on a dangerous edge when I replied,

"I know all I need to about you, Krycek."

…..