Title:          Revenge
Author:         Lovesfox
E-mail:         Lovesfox@rogers.com  (Feed me, please)
Web site:       http://www.geocities.com/kim_djd/index.html
Rating:         NC-17 (violence, consensual M/S sex and strong 
                language)
Category:       Implied UST then MSR, Angst, Story/X-File
Classification: XRA
Spoilers:       Not really, but up to mid-S7
Archive:        As long as my name and everything stays attached
Summary:        An old case of Mulder's resurfaces seeking revenge

Disclaimer:     Alas, not mine.  They belong to Chris Carter and 
                1013 Productions
                
Dedication:     To true friendship, through thick and thin. 
                Thanks, T.

Warning:        This story contains some scenes of violence, a rape 
                Attempt, implied character death, references to 
                incest, and graphic sex.




Revenge Part 22 of 29
by Lovesfox



Scully's Apartment
Georgetown, D.C.
Friday
3:30 pm


The parking job was not his greatest, but with all his attention is 
focused on the woman in the seat beside him, everything else just 
kind of faded away.  Hell the whole car ride since Scully had 
uttered those words about skipping the video store had been an 
adventure.  

Driving one-handed, while his other hand could not touch Scully 
enough, on her leg, her arm, her cheek.  If he hadn't been positive 
Scully would object due to the fact that they were in broad daylight 
and traveling in a car, he would have been touching her in a lot of 
other places.  

Mulder barely remembered to put the car in park, already struggling 
to unbuckle his seatbelt with fingers that refused to work.  He 
flicked a glance at the woman in question, to see Scully calmly 
retrieving her purse from the floor well, her seatbelt already off.  

She opened her door and swung her legs out with one smooth motion.  
Her blazer rode up as she did, and he got a prime view of her 
backside, the material of her pants stretched delightfully taut.  
His nerveless fingers fell away from their task.

He groaned when she shut her door, and stabbed at the release button 
for his seatbelt one more time.  Finally he was successful, and the 
moment it snicked across his chest, he was yanking the keys from the 
ignition and forcibly opening his door.  

Scully was rounding his side of the car as he almost stumbled out, 
and she actually had the effrontery to giggle.  Although she did try 
and hide the action behind her hand, and turn the sound into a 
cough.  

Evil woman.  She had quickly realized exactly the affect her words 
had on him, and had teased him unmercifully with sultry glances and 
skimming touches.  Said touches only while stopped at a stoplight 
of course.  She wouldn't risk doing anything that could cause an 
accident while the vehicle was in motion, although he had come close 
a few times anyway.  

It still amazed him now how quickly she had turned the tables on 
him.  From being the seduced, turned on by his words and his voice, 
to becoming the seducer, leaving him breathless and wanting.  And 
clumsy as a boy.  

"Come here," he growled, and hauled her against his body.

She came willingly, her arms wrapping around his waist, her head 
tilted up, begging to be kissed.  

He lowered his head slowly, teasingly, wanting to regain the upper 
hand.  He nipped at her lips, and then traced them with his tongue, 
and although she tried to capture his mouth, he would not oblige.  

She retaliated by moving her lower half sensually against his and 
raising herself on tiptoe to lick delicately at his neck.  

Forget the upper hand.  

His hands swept up from her back to hold her face, lifting it, and 
his mouth swooped down to cover hers in a passionate kiss.

They were in full view of almost the entire street in broad 
daylight, and neither of them cared.  

Until a passing car crammed with rowdy young men honked and yelled 
encouragement as they passed by.  

Mulder felt Scully stiffen against him, not in desire, but in 
embarrassment, and realized exactly what they were doing.  He broke 
the kiss off, glancing about for a second, but thankfully it seemed 
no one else was around.  "Hey, what do you say we take this inside?" 
he asked, smiling gently.

Scully nodded, her cheeks flaming, and he grasped her hand tightly, 
giving it a quick squeeze. Together they walked up to the entrance 
of her building and inside.  Scully tugged at his hand when he made 
to go in the direction of her apartment, and indicated the mailboxes 
off to the right.  

He watched as she retrieved her mail, her eyes downcast, and his 
ardor dwindled slightly.  "Scully?" he asked softly.

"I'm okay, Mulder," she replied just as quietly.  "I just...I can't 
believe we were kissing like that out there for anyone to see."  She 
finally lifted her head and met his gaze, and he could see that she 
was really bothered by the incident.  He was too, but not to the 
same extent.  "We know better than that, Mulder.  We're adults, for 
one thing, and should be able to control ourselves." She paused, and 
when she spoke again her voice lowered even more and her eyes 
shifted from his.  "Although lately I seem to have no control 
whatsoever when it comes to you."  

The perturbed tone had him smiling, but he was careful to hide that 
from her.  "Believe me, Scully, you have the exact same affect on 
me."  He leaned in close to whisper his next words directly into her 
ear.  "I see your silk robe lying on the end of the bed and I want 
you.  I smell your shampoo when I'm alone in the shower and I want 
you.  One look from you and I am instantly hard."  He saw and felt 
her shiver at his words.  He sighed then, and said, "But you're 
right, we do know better.  And with the possibility that Andercott 
is out there we shouldn't be taking chances like that.  He could 
have taken us both before we'd even know what was happening."

This time her shiver had nothing to do with desire, and Mulder hated 
to have brought the man's name up at all.  "Come on, I'll make you a 
cup of tea."

Scully met his eyes and nodded, even smiled a little at him.  He 
gestured for her to go ahead, and was right behind her, his hand on 
his customary spot.  She spoke, but did not turn her head, so the 
words floated back over her shoulder, low and kind of throaty.  

"Just tea?"

Mulder grinned.  How he loved this woman.

***

Outside Margaret Scully's Residence
Baltimore, MD
Friday
10:30 pm


Elliot Andercott scrunched his body down a little lower in the seat 
of his car as another vehicle passed by.  It was the second car he 
had stolen since fleeing Leesburg.  He had dumped the Ford sedan he 
had stolen in Arlington after the FBI had identified his van once he 
had reached Washington, D.C., and had quickly found a replacement, 
gain a Ford, in one of the many long-term parking lots in the busy 
city.   

He had driven it for almost a week, had even slept in it for the 
first couple nights until he found somewhere to hide out, before 
stealing another car just hours after he had seen his picture on the 
news while sitting in a tiny but thankfully busy diner in the 
seedier side of town.  Due to the noise and size of the dinner 
crowd, not many people had been paying much attention to the old 
black and white TV in the corner, so he was able to slip out with no 
trouble.

No trouble, yeah right he thought to himself.  He had received such 
a jolt when he had seen his own picture there on the screen with 
the FBI's hotline number beneath it that he had been lucky to get 
out and back to his car without exploding into fear and rage.

His eyes flicked to the rear view mirror and despite what he knew he 
would see, he was still shocked at his own image.  Hair now dyed 
blonde and buzzed shorter than he had ever worn it, and his cheeks 
and chin smooth.  Not much of a disguise, but enough that his 
features no longer screamed alert, seeing as his face and 
description had been plastered all over the TV and newspapers for 
the last couple of days.  During the daytime he also sported a pair 
of sunglasses to hide his eyes.  He had taken to walking with a 
slouch, and hunching his shoulders, to appear shorter.

He looked away from the mirror.  He hated the way he looked now, 
hated the fact that the FBI, that Mulder, had made it necessary to 
disguise himself.  Made it necessary for him to have to hide, and to 
sneak around.  He slammed a hand against the steering wheel, hard, 
and the noise and the sudden rush of pain along his arm were good.

Mulder.  Just thinking the man's name made him even angrier.  Why 
hadn't he died when he ran into the hospital after Dana?  She should 
have died too.  She was supposed to have died, like Elizabeth had 
died.  He would have left then, and faded into the woodwork, knowing 
that Mulder was suffering as he had suffered.  But no, Mulder had 
gone in there and found her, dragged her out of there.  Bastard.

Elliot ground his teeth angrily.  The news people, while not 
identifying Mulder or Dana by name, were calling Mulder a hero, 
going on and on about how he had risked his own life to save that of 
his partner's.  

His bitch.  

Elliot smacked the steering wheel again, even harder, and cursed 
them both.

He began to rock in his seat, his eyes glazed over, lips moving 
soundlessly.  The papers had also said he was dangerous and to be 
approached with caution.  One news bitch had even said he was 
insane.  His fists clenched tight in rage.  What the hell did they 
know?

Another car passed by, startling him, and he shook his head 
violently.  He couldn't think about those things right now, he had 
work to do.  He shifted his eyes to the rear view mirror once more 
and watched the car's taillights disappear before training his gaze 
on the house he had been watching for the last hour.  

Dana Scully's mother's house.  

He'd actually been watching the house, and Dana's mother, on and 
off over the past week, never staying long enough to raise the 
suspicions of the agents he knew were sitting in the unmarked sedan 
that had been parked directly in front of her house.  

Or had been up until Wednesday, and then the agents had not 
returned.  He had taken advantage of that fact, and over the last 
three nights, this one being the third, he had been watching the 
house and the others around it a little more closely, and for a lot 
longer. 

It was a nice house, in a nice neighborhood.  Fairly upscale, set 
back from the street with a deep lot and screened in by shrubbery on 
both sides.  Perfect for what he needed to do.  

He glanced up and down the street before getting out of the car.  
Another quick check, not a soul in sight.  Nor had there been, 
except for the odd car passing by.  There were lights on in most of 
the houses, but it seemed that most families around here settled in 
fairly early for the evening.

Dana's mother had been driving one of those cars that had passed 
by.  She had come home, not long after he had arrived, and parked 
her car in the garage.  Which told him she more than likely had no 
plans to go out again.  He smiled to himself as he walked casually 
but quickly along the sidewalk, avoiding the pools of light from 
the streetlamps.  

A few seconds later he was approaching the edge of her property, his 
nerves on high alert for any sound that might signify he had been 
seen.  One last look over his shoulder, and then he was ducking to 
move along the shrubs to the side of her house.  His heart was 
pounding, and he was covered in a light sheen of sweat.  He was 
nervous and exhilarated at the same time.  His hand went to one of 
his jacket pockets, patting the outside, feeling for the familiar 
shape of his wire cutters, and sighed in relief when they were 
there.

It took him a few minutes, but he managed to find the telephone 
lines.  A fiddle with a wire here, a snip of a wire there, and they 
were cut.  

He smiled, thinking, the first step was done.  Now it was on to 
step two.

***

Scully's Apartment
Georgetown, D.C.
Friday
10:45 pm


Scully listened as the phone continued to ring.  Her mother did not 
answer, nor did her answering machine click on.  She sighed and then 
finally disconnected the call, putting the portable back down on the 
counter.

She didn't normally call her mom this late, but had forgotten to try 
her earlier.  Smiling to herself, she thought that forgotten wasn't 
quite the right word.  Been wonderfully and thoroughly distracted 
was more apt.  Not to mention completely and utterly satisfied.

Her mind took a brief sojourn back to several hours ago.  True to 
his word, Mulder had indeed made tea, and toast as well, and they 
had shared their light repast snuggled on the couch.  Snuggling had 
led to touching, touching had led to caressing, and they had ended 
up in her bed.  Where they had spent the next few hours exploring 
and learning each other's bodies.  Seeing what drew the best 
reactions, what made each other's pulses soar, or what wrung moans 
and whimpers from each other's mouths.  It was something they really 
hadn't done, despite the number of times they had previously made 
love.

The distracter chose that moment to enter the kitchen, his hair 
adorably spiked and his plain white tee shirt rumpled.  He was 
scratching absently at his belly as he walked, and she stared in 
fascination at his long fingers, remembering them tracing random 
patterns over her own skin.  Her eyes dropped and saw that the top 
button of the Levi's he had donned for their much later than 
originally planned trip to the video store and Chinese take-out was 
undone for comfort.  Her breath caught.  God, he was so unbelievably 
sexy.  

"Your mom not home?" Mulder asked, moving past her to go to the 
fridge, his hip just brushing her rear end.

The light contact sent a tingle of awareness through her body, and 
shivering, she turned around to lean against the countertop and 
watch him as he rummaged through the contents of the fridge.  He was 
bent slightly at the waist, and the pose naturally drew her eyes to 
his butt, covered in faded denim.  She tried to recall if she had 
ever told him what an incredible butt he had, and opened her mouth 
to do so, even as she was thinking, forget lack of control, I'm 
insatiable for this man.

Mulder said her name questioningly, turning his head to look at her, 
obviously wondering why she hadn't answered him.  "Hmmm?" she said, 
and started.  "Oh, sorry. No, she's not answering.  I guess I got 
all mixed up about the Fridays with being in the hospital and 
everything."  

The look in his eyes explained his confusion, so she hastened to 
add, "She usually goes to bridge at the Church every other Friday.  
You'd be surprised how late she comes home sometimes."  Her brow 
crinkled slightly, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip.  "Though 
she usually has her answering machine on.  I wonder if it's 
broken."  

She shrugged the vague feeling of unease off and said, "Remind me 
to call her in the morning, okay?"

Mulder nodded and returned to his foraging.  She continued to watch, 
admiring what the swaying motions of his body did to his rear, and 
remembered her thought of moments ago.  "Mulder?" she asked.

"Uh-huh?" came his voice from deep inside the fridge as he reached 
way in the back.

"Have I ever told you that you have a great ass?" she asked 
conversationally, a hint of teasing in her voice.  "If not, I am 
now."  She made a sound, one that was a toss-up behind a purr and a 
growl, and then said,  "I am particularly loving it in those jeans."

At her words, Mulder straightened, apparently forgetting his upper 
body was inside the fridge.  There was a thud, followed by a yowl of 
pain, and then he was rapidly back stepping, one hand already 
cupping the top of his head.  Once he was clear, the other hand 
joined the first one, and the food he had been clutching against his 
chest fell to the floor, a loud plop signifying something had broken 
out of its container, followed by other muted plops as the remaining 
items followed the same path.  "Shit!" he exclaimed next, his eyes 
scrunched shut.

Scully stared at the mess on the floor, watching as yogurt continued 
to ooze out of the broken plastic cup to mingle with leftover low 
mein noodles and sweet and sour chicken balls, before raising her 
eyes to look at Mulder.  One of his eyes was open, squinting down at 
the same mess, over which he was standing, but his hands were still 
on his head.  She left the counter, reaching out to gently grasp his 
upper arms to pull him away from the fridge, saying, "Let me see 
your head, Mulder."

He moved obediently, stepping carefully over the spilled food, and 
let her lead him over to the kitchen table, where she nudged him 
down onto one of the chairs.  His face was still scrunched, his 
lower lip jutting out in a pout, and Scully had to smile.  He looked 
like her nephew Matthew after he had fallen or bumped himself on 
something.  

The only thing missing was the giant crocodile tears Matthew could 
shed at the drop of a hat.  

"Duck your head and put your hands down please," she said quietly, 
and when he did, gently combed her fingers through his silky soft 
hair.  She encountered a bump at the top of his head, towards the 
back, but there was no bleeding.  She prodded carefully and Mulder 
hissed in pain.  She smiled again, and bent her head down to press 
a feather-light kiss onto the injury.  

"There, I kissed it all better. I think you'll live, Mulder," she 
teased, and arched back a little to look into his face.

Both his eyes were open now, and when they met hers, he smiled.  
"Thank-you, Dr. Scully." His hands moved lightning quick and snagged 
her by the hips, pulling her much closer.  She ended up standing 
between his wide spread legs, the outsides of her thighs pressing 
against the insides of his. "You know, I seem to recall a promise to 
kiss something else better," he said, and his voice was now several 
octaves lower.

Scully stared at him, puzzled, while he waggled his eyebrows up and 
down and then shot a glance down at his lap.  She still didn't get 
it, and shook her head slightly, one of her eyebrows arching up in 
question.

Mulder pouted again, and she barely resisted the urge to lean in 
even further and swipe her tongue across his full bottom lip.  
"Scully...last night, on the couch?" he said.  

She shook her head again.  She really didn't know where he was going 
with this.  

He was frowning now, and seemed disappointed she was not playing 
along with him, but she really didn't know what he was talking 
about.  Finally he sighed and explained in a huffed tone of voice.  

"During the movie last night, you were falling asleep, but I 
couldn't convince you to go to bed.  You decided to use me as a 
pillow, and you..." He stopped, and now he looked embarrassed.  

"I what?" she asked, trying to think back to the night before.  

She did remember being really tired, and not seeing very much of 
the movie, and him trying to convince her to go to bed sounded 
vaguely familiar, but she still did not know what he was trying to 
tell her.  

"You elbowed me in the...in the, well...you know!" he blurted out. 
His fingers tightened briefly on her hips and then relaxed again, 
sending little currents of pleasure up and down her spine.

She had found herself moving her head with each burst of speech, 
trying to encourage him on as he tried to find the right words, but 
suddenly it was as if a light bulb had come on in her head.  

The glances down at his lap, his low sexy voice, they made sense 
now.  Smiling inside, she decided to have some fun with Mulder. 

Letting her eyelids droop slightly, she opened her mouth and licked 
slowly at her lips.  "No, Mulder, I don't know," she sighed, and 
watched as his pupils contracted, his eyes watching the motion of 
her lips and tongue.

He also looked very consternated, and unbidden, a giggle escaped her 
lips.  His eyes widened then, and he realized she was teasing him.  
He stood with surprising swiftness, and lifted her by his hands on 
her hips, saying, "Well, I'll just have to show you then, won't I?"

Scully automatically wrapped her legs around him, and lifted her 
hands to cling to his shoulders.  Mulder shifted his hands to cup 
her bottom when she did, and began to walk out of the kitchen, 
heading towards her bedroom.  

Scully wiggled a little, and slid her arms around his neck, bringing 
her face close to his, their noses brushing against each other with 
each up and down motion of their bodies as he carried her.  

"You're only going to show me?" she pouted.

Mulder's laughter, warm and beer-scented, washed over her, and then 
one of his hands was sliding up her back to cup her neck, pushing 
her closer, his lips descending to land firmly on hers.  He still 
continued to walk, and the swaying motion rubbed her body teasingly 
along his as his tongue danced inside her mouth.  He released her 
lips slowly and murmured, "Oh, believe me, I'll do more than that."

Scully laughed too and said, "Mulder, I believe."

That remark earned her a slap on the butt, and another deep kiss, 
just before she was dropped onto her bed.

***

Saturday
12:08 am

The sharp insistent ringing of a phone pulled Mulder from a sound, 
satiated sleep, although at first he did not know what the sound 
was.  He bolted upright, totally disoriented for a moment, and 
swiveled his head, trying to locate the noise.  His eyes glanced off 
of Scully, sprawled on her stomach with her head under her pillow, 
the blankets kicked off her body, as he realized it was a cellular 
phone.

His gut clenched.

The cellular phone.

Elliot's phone.

Scrambling off the bed, nearly falling in his haste, he finally 
located it on Scully's dresser, where he had put it on their return 
from the hospital.  Even as he was picking it up, he was remembering 
the look on Scully's face when he had removed the phone from his 
jacket pocket.  It had been a look of terror and hatred.  Yet she 
had said nothing, and from that point on, had seemed to ignore it 
totally.

He jabbed the send button, feeling imaginary, icy fingers of fear 
skittering up and down his naked spine, and put it to his ear.  
"Mulder," he whispered hoarsely.

"It's about time, Mulder.  You do recall I don't like to be kept 
waiting, don't you?"

Elliot Andercott's voice, as evil and slimy and horrifying as he 
remembered it.  "What do you want, Andercott?"  His voice was a 
little louder this time, and harsher.  Thinking of Scully, sleeping 
peacefully in the bed, he winced and hunched himself around the 
phone.

Andercott's answer was straightforward, with no hinting or beating 
around the bush.  "You."  A brief pause followed.  "Just you."

Mulder was so stunned by the man's reply he barked out a laugh.  
"You honestly think I'm just going to hand myself over to you?" he 
sneered, trying to gain the upper hand.

"If you want to save Margaret Scully's life, yes," was the prompt 
reply.  "Now enough chit-chat.  Be at Zeus Warehousing in one hour 
or your girlfriend's mother gets it.  I know you remember the place, 
Mulder."

Mulder froze when Andercott said Scully's mom's name, and his mind 
almost went blank, all thoughts about gaining the upper hand 
completely gone.  Oh God, oh Jesus.  Mrs. Scully.  Scully hadn't 
been able to get her on the phone.  Did this mean he really had 
her?  Oh shit, oh fuck.  

Then the sick bastard's next words registered, and he stupidly 
parroted, "Zeus Warehousing?"

The click of the phone disconnecting was his only answer.

Indecisiveness had him standing there for a few seconds, eyes 
running along Scully's bare legs, to the curve of her panty-covered 
behind and the vulnerable dip of her lower back, revealed by the tee 
shirt, his tee shirt, that had ridden up in her sleep.

He would not risk her again.  Or Mrs. Scully.  Andercott had said 
just him.  Clad in only his boxers, he walked stiff-legged to the 
chair in the corner, where Scully had once again neatly folded his 
clothes.  

He hesitated just for a second, picturing her as she had knelt and 
lovingly tended to his mess, and then shook his head and moved.  
Socks and jeans went on, fingers pulling and tugging automatically, 
before he moved over to the dresser again to remove a sweatshirt.  
He put it on almost roughly, and then dug in the drawer for his 
back-up piece and ankle holster.  He strapped it on quickly and 
shoved the Walther PPK in, fixing the cuff of his jeans over it.  

One last look at Scully as he lifted his 9 mm from the night table 
where it lay next to her Sig Sauer, and then he was going down the 
hall to shove his feet into his running shoes, tying them hastily, 
and slip into his black leather jacket.

His teeth clenched as he quietly opened the door, imagining Scully 
waking up and catching him in the act of leaving.  How could he 
explain?  How could he tell her she could not come with him, that he 
would not let her?  She was going to be so angry with him when she 
found out, and he fully planned on both he and Mrs. Scully coming 
back so she could rip into him as many times as she liked.  There 
would be no walls allowed to come up, nor her pushing him away.  
They would talk about everything and anything, once he had Mrs. 
Scully safely home and Elliot Andercott dead.

He pulled the door shut behind him and locked it with equal 
quietness, and took off down the hallway.  

In moments he was outside, at the Gunmen's hideously ugly blue van, 
rapping sharply on the window.  Langly's head popped up, and Mulder 
could see a couple CD cases in his hand.  A second later, Frohike's 
head came into view, poked out from the curtained back of the van, a 
puzzled look on his face.  

Langly hurriedly unrolled the window, and asked, "What's up, dude?"

"Listen up, guys, I've got to go out for a bit," his words were 
rushed, and he could see the urgency in his words had reached them 
as they both stiffened in place like soldiers standing at 
attention.  

"Scully's still asleep, and she doesn't know I'm gone.  Keep a tight 
watch on her place, and call 9-1-1 if you see anything even remotely 
suspicious."  He had seen Frohike's frown when he said that Scully 
didn't know, and added, "I couldn't tell her, but she'll 
understand."  

With that he turned and ran in the direction of his car.

Back in the van, Langly and Frohike exchanged glances, wearing 
identical expressions of dismay.

"She won't understand."  Langly.

"She'll kick his ass."  Frohike.

"Mulder won't stand a chance."  Spoken together.

***

end Part 22 of 29