Truce
Chapter Thirteen

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A soft tap at the door roused her from sleep.  She
looked over her shoulder at Mulder, who slept
blissfully on, then to the door, just visible in
the morning light.  The shirt she'd worn to bed
gaped open, Mulder's arm loose around her waist
under its folds.

Again, the knock intruded.  "Fox?"

Biting her lip, she eased out from the cocoon of
his arms to stand beside the bed.  Her legs felt
like rubber, her body sore in places it hadn't been
in quite some time.  Smoothing her hair away from
her face, she held the shirt closed and crept to
the door.

Cracking it open, she met Marvin's perfectly snooty
face, his eyes averted from the bare length of her
legs.  "Dr. Bombay is here, Miss Scully."

"Who?" she said, her voice husky from sleep.

"He's here to have a go at a computer disc - he
said Fox told him it was important."

The disc!  Bombay - the computer expert Mulder had
referred to as "Langly in drag".  Shaking away the
last of sleep, she told Marvin, "I'll be down
shortly."  Off Marvin's nod, she added, "Don't wake
Mulder, okay?"

"Of course I won't," Marvin assured her softly. 
"He needs his rest, don't you think?"

Was that a knowing twinkle in Marvin's eye?  Now
wasn't the time to light into the little man for
his manipulations of the previous evening, but she
told him with her narrowed glare the day would come
soon.  He cleared his throat and gave her a slight
bow.  "In the study, Miss.  Coffee and biegnets as
well."

She closed the door on his retreating back and
picked up her bag.  Mulder slept on, a testament to
his sleeping habits of late.  She didn't have the
heart to wake him, which meant no shower this
morning.  A quick cleanup would have to do -
besides, the disc - and its secrets - awaited.

Excitement made her hurry.  But it was happiness
that curved her lips into a smile.


**********


Langly in drag.  Okay, she thought, watching the
computer expert work as she stood behind him
silently, sipping at her coffee.  He *was* rather
geeky, in a boyish way, she supposed.  And his
paranoia ran deep - she surmised that from the
moment of their meeting, when he'd bristled at the
realization she still worked for the federal
government.  She assured him the forensics anatomy
class at Quantico wasn't a den of iniquity, and
he'd relaxed somewhat at the realization she was
quite possibly more out of the loop than Mulder
these days.

But he looked nothing like Langly, oh no.  Bombay -
or Gerald, as he'd insisted she call him after
they'd laughed over a few Gunmen stories - was
nothing like any of the friends she and Mulder had
turned to in times of need.  Not physically,
anyway.  Gerald was a handsome, suave gentleman,
with close-cropped hair and wicked green eyes.  A
bit on the effeminate side, but quick to bestow a
flattering look on her tousled hair and 'yes, I've
been fucked' look, complete with Mulder's rumpled
shirt hanging to her knees over her black
leggings... even if she knew he did it mostly
because he wished he were in her shoes.  Or her
bare feet, be that as it may.  She hadn't bothered
with slipping on her boots.

"It's encrypted, of course," he drawled, flashing
her a sly look as he raised his gaze from the
screen of Mulder's laptop.  "It may take a while to
crack it, but I've seen worse.  You say you got
this where?"

"I didn't," she replied softly, giving him a wry
look before moving to the bar for more coffee.

"C'mon, girlfriend," he purred, "you can tell me. 
I won't tell a soul, I pinky swear.  Just like I
would never say a word about your appearance this
morning... though Marvin's eyes are about to bug
out of his square head at the sight of that nice
little strawberry on your shoulder.  I think I'd
rather know the origin of *that* mystery, really."

Self-consciously, her hand went to the gaping neck
of Mulder's shirt and she flushed before she could
stop her embarrassment.

"I think Marvin's more pleased than anyone.  The
little snit's walking around like he created the
universe in one night." Bombay sighed, rolling his
eyes.  "Galls me to no end."

"Get back to work and quit bothering Miss Scully."
Marvin's voice broke in, its hard edge popping over
Bombay's head as he walked into the study.

"Buzz off, you little toad," Bombay grumbled,
tapping at the keys.  "Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Busy poking around where you have no business."

Scully detoured the impending argument with a soft,
"Gentlemen.  Let's keep to the matter at hand,
please... the disc?"

After an exchange of menacing looks, the two men
fell silent and back to work.  Bombay on his
computer, Marvin with tidying up the serving tray. 
Scully, thankful for the quiet, brought her coffee
back to the desk, where she set up camp once again
behind Bombay.  Though obviously a trusted ally of
Mulder's - even if he and Marvin enjoyed nipping at
one another - she'd worked too hard on getting that
disc not to watch his every move.

The hard drive processed the data through an
intricate set of commands; Bombay minimized the
window at her approach.  She gave him a scathing
look, about to dress him down for his secrecy when
he said, "No one sees my kung fu.  No one."

So he wasn't all that different from the Gunmen. 
Scully smirked, giving Bombay a lazy, "This *is*
Mulder's computer, you know.  You're not worried
about him seeing your 'kung fu'?"

"I have no idea what *you* know," he pointed out,
"but Mulder couldn't tell his ass from a hole in
the ground, as far as hacking goes.  All he ever
does is surf.  I don't know if he even knows how to
open a file."

That was an exaggeration; Mulder knew his way
around the operating system of a computer.  Her
curiosity piqued, Scully asked, "How so?"

Bombay pulled up the file manager with a snort of
exasperation, pointing to a directory which figured
prominently among the files of the hard drive.  "I
ftp to this directory every week with new photos. 
But does he open it?  No.  It hasn't been accessed
since its creation months ago - see?"

Her stomach plummeted at the directory name.  "Open
them."

With a cautious stare, Bombay murmured, "I don't
think I should.  I mean, this is Mulder's kid, from
what I understand -"

'William' beckoned, the name tearing open an old 
wound she knew best left alone.  But she could no
more walk away from this than she could her guilt
over his absence in her life.

"It's my child, too," she bit out.  "Open the
damned files."


**********


Mulder groaned, stretching out like a lazy feline,
his arms almost reaching from one side of the bed
to the other.  If not for the dull ache in his
head, he knew he'd feel pretty damned good.  He
drew a deep breath, trying to calm his too-empty
stomach... when he smelled it.  Smelled *her*. 
Smelled *them*.

Jacknifing up to a sitting position, he winced at
the sudden movement, squinting against the sun's
glare that filled his bedroom.  He swayed for a
second or two, really wanting nothing more than to
fall back and sleep for another hour.  Hell,
another day.  But he didn't - because she was here.

Or was she?  Maybe his mind was playing tricks on
him, making him think she'd slept in his bed.  God
knew he'd had enough erotic dreams about her, so
one more wouldn't have been all that unusual.  His
hand drifted under his sweatpants; he pulled it
away with a grimace. *That* wasn't all that
unusual, either.  A byproduct of a dreaming mind
filled with lust for a woman he couldn't have. 
Still, his body ached with pleasant remembrance,
one associated with the mechanics of making love. 
Even now, his morning erection cried out for ease,
especially craving her loving attention to its
needs.

Nah, the night before was the result of unfulfilled
fantasies and too much booze.  Chances were, that
soreness in his pelvis came from humping the bed. 
He was one sick bastard.

Rolling from the bed, he trudged to the bathroom,
where he took a long, satisfying leak.  The minor
headache was an annoyance, but he supposed he
deserved every little hammer driving nails into his
brain.  He vowed never to drink that much again,
and certainly not whiskey.  His mouth tasted like
roadkill; before taking care of that, however, he
downed a couple of aspirin, grimacing at the way
the taste of them made his mouth water with
impending nausea.  Shower first?  Or get rid of the
dog breath?

Definitely the dog breath.  It was an effort of
monumental proportions, but he finally got the
toothpaste smeared on the toothbrush.  He hoped he
wouldn't puke before he finished; it was bad enough
his gag reflex kicked almost immediately - the
sight of his face in the mirror didn't help
matters.

Using inspection as an excuse to temporarily leave
off the toothbrushing, he peered into the
brightness of the silvery surface, his left hand
coming up to tenderly touch his slick skin.  He'd
shaved.  Or rather, Marvin had done it for him - he
remembered that much.  The exposed skin was a hair
lighter than the rest of his face, and it already
sported a bit of stubble, as if the beard cried out
for rebirth.

"You're an idiot," he mumbled to the ghost in the
mirror.

His vivid dreams, pleasant though they'd been,
hadn't had the power to manifest the real thing. 
She hadn't come back.  She never would, if what he
remembered of their parting last night was true. 
She couldn't get past her lingering hurt and fear
of what she figured would eventually be another
goodbye.

He sighed heavily, his hand shaking as he cupped
water to his mouth, then splashed the bracing wake-
up call to his face.  Like an automaton, he
scrubbed his hands over his eyes, his mind still
working in an effort to make him face the day
ahead.

All was not lost, he realized, his brain waking up
more and more with each passing second.  He'd never
walked away from a challenge in his life, with the
exception of when he'd left her months ago.  And
then, it wasn't because he feared for himself.  No,
he wasn't a quitter.  Though time and again he'd
lost his way, she'd always pulled him back on
track.  This time, she would do the same... even if
she didn't want to.  He couldn't walk away.
*Wouldn't* turn and run, as she had.  He'd follow
and pursue and get down on his knees and grovel if
he had to... but no way was he giving up.

Bracing cold hands on the edge of the sink, he
shook the drops of water from his face, then
stilled, staring at the hint of blue peeking out
from under the towel on the floor.  With open-
mouthed wonder, he nabbed the satin with his
fingers.  The panties stretched with a familiar
width between his two hands - hands which suddenly
itched with the recollection of touching warm, soft
skin.  A *real* woman, not a dream.  He brought the
underwear to his face and jerked at the smell.

Of Scully.  God, he'd know that scent anywhere.

He almost tripped on his sagging sweatpants in his
rush out of the bedroom.


**********


William on a swing.  William at the park.  William
eating ice cream as he sat on a tricycle in a
perfect carpet of green grass.  William on his
back, being tumbled by a pup of mutt origins.

"Joey," Bombay offered quietly.  "Just got that one
last week."

Anger at the hidden photographs made her swallow
hard as she walked to the window.  "Any of me?"

"That's a big no-no," Bombay muttered.

"It's not what you think." Marvin intruded at last;
she wondered when he'd snap out of his 'caught-in-
the-headlights' stance.

"It isn't?" She swung around, her arms crossed. 
She knew Mulder kept tabs on her activities from
afar, and he'd as much as said the other day he was
watching William.  But to have surveillance
photographs?  He probably knew every move William
and his adoptive parents made.  The invasion of
their privacy was horrid, and made her think Mulder
had an agenda different from hers.  When was he
planning on whipping out those pictures?  He'd
never said, never hinted he had them, though he had
to have known she'd kill to see even a glimpse of
that fair face.  "What was he planning?  To steal
William?  If I hadn't come along, would he have
taken him and never looked back?"

Narrow-eyed, Marvin stood still, his face suffusing
with color.  "Miss Scully, I hesitate to criticize
-"

"Oh, please!  Spare me the 'concerned but neutral
observer' crap.  You've been in this all along,
too.  You tricked me last night into -"

"Bloody hell, woman!"  Marvin puffed up, throwing
his dustcloth to the floor with uncharacteristic
carelessness, his shout booming across the room. 
She started, falling silent as he tempered his
voice - but not much.  Gritting the words past
clenched teeth, he continued, "That man upstairs
has done nothing but watch over your son *and* you
for almost a year now.  With his constant
vigilance, he's keeping William safe for the moment
he can return him to your waiting arms. *Legally*,
in case you don't get my meaning, Miss.  Would you
like to know why he's never opened those photos?"

Biting words came from a face she never imagined
doing so; Melvin Frohike had never raised his voice
in anger to her.  Taken aback, she could only stare
as Marvin gave her what she'd asked for.

"Because he can't bear to look at that child until
he knows you can, too.  He reads Bombay's weekly
reports.  He pores over them, ready to fly at even
a hint of abuse or neglect... but dreading the
possibility.  Because no matter how much he misses
that boy, he would never wish for harm to come to
him.  Not even if it meant that, as the biological
father, he could use his money and power to easily
get him back."

Too overwrought to answer, she hung her head.

"Then he smiles when he's done, because William
seems to be safe and sound.  But his smile fades
quickly... because he's missing so much.  And so
are you."  Marvin paused, his clipped voice
lowering to a sad murmur.  "Don't judge him too
harshly, Miss Scully.  He's been dead inside since
he left you - don't take away what little you gave
him last night to salvage your pride."

It was a testament to Marvin's desperate persuasion
that he made mention of their tenuous reunion.  And
he was right - she had given Mulder very little
when she'd returned.  Just a body starved for
touch; it remained to be seen if she'd do what she
vowed to herself last night and free her love
and trust to his safekeeping.  With one angry word,
she could take it all away, pretend their physical
union was nothing more than raging hormones.  All
because she was pissed he'd kept this from her. 
She raised watery eyes to Marvin, all fury leaving
her form as she searched for the right thing to
say.

But Marvin kept on, gentle now in his rebuke. 
"Whether by your command or his, Fox has been alone
for much too long.  As have you.  My brother held
you both in great esteem, and while I have no such
history with you, I know from his words you're a
woman of great compassion and forgiveness.  Don't
disappoint me, Miss Scully.  Keep the faith.  Give
the man a chance to explain."

Before she could answer, the study door burst open. 
Mulder stood, almost trembling with anxiety, his
eyes fixing on her as if he were seeing a ghost. 
Quickly, he swept past a startled Marvin and a
grinning Bombay, stopping inches from her,
searching her face with a hopeful, intense gaze. 
He licked his lips, gulped as he sought words.

No matter what he'd done, what he'd kept from her,
Marvin was right about Mulder.  The look on his
face, the sheer joy at finding her still here this
morning... he was afraid to believe it.  From a man
who believed anything thrown at him, he was a
master at disbelieving his own capacity for being
loved.  And she couldn't find it in her any longer
to deny him what he wanted most of all.

She smiled, nodding infinitesimally at his unspoken
question.

Shaking hands caught her damp cheeks in a rough-
tender grip, and he kissed her.


**********


An emotional earthquake shook him to his bones.  He
was kissing her.  Kissing Scully.

Here she stood, all God damned sexy in her bare
feet and his shirt - *his* shirt.  Mouth opening
over hers, he pulled her close, one hand sliding
under the collar of said shirt to settle at her
nape, the other gripping the expensive, wrinkled
cotton at her back.  He felt her arms go around him
and she returned the kiss with full measure,
raising up on tiptoe to ease the awkward angles of
his neck and hers.

This was more than confirmation they'd made love
last night.  This was the final hurdle, the most
intimate of gestures... the one he'd missed most of
all.  He realized that, in his fervor, he was
bruising her mouth; he gentled, pulling the breath
from her with slow seduction.  She responded by
letting her head settle on his shoulder, basically
giving herself up to his greedy ardor.  Not that
she lost herself to him mindlessly - the hand that
slipped low on his back knew exactly what it was 
doing, as he felt it dip beneath the sagging
elastic.

"There are thirty-one rooms in this house besides
this one, Fox.  May I suggest you take this
elsewhere?"

The cool, almost humorous voice snapped his head
away from Scully's.  He didn't move far, however,
staying close enough to look into her heavy-lidded
eyes.  "What do you think?" His voice was thick
with happiness.

"Oh, don't leave on my account!" Bombay's twitter
made him stiffen.  He hadn't realized they were
anything but alone until Marvin had spoken.  "I
can't deny I'm enjoying the soap opera... and the
view."

Scully snapped out of her limp rag imitation,
settling back on her heels.  He felt her hands pull
at the back waistband of his sweats, and knew he'd
just given Bombay a thrill unrelated to the kiss. 
Damn.  Hot color crept up his cheeks, deepening at
Scully's chuckle.

"Gerald is here to crack the disc," she explained
softly, though she didn't move out of his embrace. 
She couldn't, he realized - her grip on his sweats
were all that stood between him and indecent
exposure. *Again*.  "You were sleeping, so I didn't
want to wake you."

He wanted nothing more than to kick the other two
men out the front door and lock her in for a long
winter's nap.  But that wasn't possible - not at
the moment, anyway.  Giving Scully a promising look
of the conversation to come, he backed away from
her, one hand taking up the hold on his pants while
the other slid into hers.  He damn well wasn't
letting go of her now that she was here.  Facing
Bombay, he cleared his throat, trying like hell to
look nonchalant.

"Anything yet?"

Still grinning with pleasure, Bombay said, "No, but
it shouldn't take long."  He waved a hand at the
couple.  "Please, continue.  I haven't seen
anything like this on 'Days of Our Lives' in
years."

It was only Scully's subtle squeeze on his hand
that stifled Mulder's urge to wipe that grin off
Bombay's face with his fist.  "Go shower," she said
softly, looking up at him.  The hand not holding
his went to his waist; with a gentle pull, she
disengaged his hold on his pants.

"What are you doing?" he whispered in warning,
knowing his modesty was walking a tightrope.

A dainty ball of blue satin was quickly stuffed
away in her shirt pocket.  "I don't think you'll be
needing those." She swallowed, a pink tinge
creeping up her cheeks.

Closing his eyes briefly, he groaned.  He'd run
into the study like a madman, waving Scully's
panties like a flag of victory.  He hadn't noticed
them wrapped around his hand, even while kissing or
touching her, or threatening Bombay.  What a dork.

Ignoring Bombay's snort of laughter, he
concentrated on Scully's face as he sought to
regain control.  "Will *you*?"

"Will I what?"

"Be needing those."  Would she stay?  Or was this
just a bit of temporary insanity, brought on by
lust and whiskey?

Shifting a bit to look around his shoulder at
Marvin, she purred, "Depends on if Marvin is
willing to do me a great favor."

"At your service, Miss," Marvin said behind him.

"Retrieve my things from the hotel and return my
car?  I'll notify them by phone I'm checking out."

Mulder didn't hear Marvin's joyous, sputtering
reply.  The roar of his own happiness drowned out
everything else, and he disdained the curious eyes
still looking upon them, capturing Scully's lips in
another searing kiss.

Vaguely, he heard Marvin move behind them.  "Come
along, you twit."

Then, Bombay's whine.  "What?  Why?  Things are
getting good again!"

"I'll take the limo, you drive Miss Scully's car
back."

"But the disc -"

"Will be here when we return.  Now get your bloody
arse up from that chair!"

Mulder was never so glad to hear a door close in
his life.


**********


Scully felt a bit worse for wear, especially when
Mulder reappeared in the study, looking fresh and
adorably sexy in his jeans and pullover.  She knew
it would be at least a couple of hours before
Marvin returned with her clothes and she had the
chance to garb herself in something besides
Mulder's shirt.  He'd tried his best to drag her
into the shower with him, but she'd nixed the idea,
saying one of them should watch the laptop while it
uncovered the secrets on the disc.  He couldn't
argue with that, though the pitiful look he'd given
her had tugged at her good sense.  She'd ushered
his almost bare ass out the door with a stern
"later", and breathed easier once he'd gone,
grateful for the respite to gather her thoughts.

Now, with him hovering over her shoulder, her cool,
collected mien threatened to dissolve in a puddle
of goo.  His smile was broad and his hand settled
on her back as he leaned over her chair to watch
the screen.

"I take it nothing's come up yet?"

"Nope.  Still waiting."  She bit her lip, feeling
his probing gaze tear away what little walls she'd
managed to re-fortify in his slight absence.  "Want
some coffee?"

His free hand plucked at the satin poking out from
her shirt pocket.  "I'd rather have some answers,"
he murmured.

Truth time.  Sighing, she skirted his large form
and walked to the bar, busying her hands with
coffee she didn't really want.  "I did some
thinking in the car.  I decided to come back."

He said nothing for a moment, and she could feel
his mind working.  "I see.  Any revelation I should
know about?"

God, she didn't want to bring up Robert, just when
things were settling down.  But it wasn't in her to
withhold information from Mulder; emotions, yes. 
Sometimes.  And how could she put this without
Mulder jumping to the conclusion she'd only come
back because of Robert's phone call?  That wasn't
the only reason, and he must understand that.

"I spoke to Robert."

At the mention of the man's name, Mulder's voice
took on a hard edge.  "And?"

Scully faced him, noting the misgivings already
blossoming in his eyes.  "And I realized that,
while I'm still not totally convinced he's
untrustworthy, I *do* question his motives.  He
makes me wonder sometimes."

Mulder looked away, his fresh-shaven cheeks pale. 
"He told you something, didn't he?"

She left the coffee, stepping forward to Mulder's
side.  "Yes, he did.  But that's not why -"

"What did he tell you?"  Mulder had, as she
suspected he would, surmise an ulterior motive for
her return.  One he disdained immediately.  She
hastened to correct his assumption, frustration
flaring at the way he'd cut her off.

"If you'll give me time, I'll tell you."  She
wasn't the only one with a bad habit of becoming
defensive, she wanted to scream at the absent
Marvin.  "Later.  For now, I'd like to explain why
I came back."

"So explain."

Taking a deep breath, she started, "It's not easy
for me to say things, Mulder."

"Don't I know it," he snorted, shifting on his
feet, suddenly interested in the carpet beneath
them.

"Look at me," she demanded, pulling at his sleeve. 
He did, wary in face and form.  "I came back
because I realized I didn't want to live without
you anymore.  I'm tired of running from a life with
you because you have the power to hurt me."

His face softened, his eyes becoming mossy green
with regret.  "Scully, I'd never hurt you," he
breathed, his plea tender and heartfelt.  "Not
intentionally."

"But you have," she insisted, "don't you see?  Even
though you don't mean to, you have.  Just as I've
hurt you.  We don't set out to hurt one another,
Mulder... it just happens.  And it's something I'm
going to have to learn to live with.  I *want* to
live with it.  With you."

The corners of his eyes crinkled as his lips curled
up in a smile.  "Are you sure?  Because I don't
think I could stand it if you suddenly became 'Ana'
once again."

She picked up on his relaxing mood, looking up at
him with chagrin.  "That bad, huh?"

His hands settled at her waist.  "I can do without
the clothes and the cigarette smoke.  One reveals
too much and the other keeps too much hidden. 
Check that - I kind of dig the clothes.  Especially
that little number night before last."

Chuckling, she embraced him, resting her cheek upon
his heartbeat.  "You would."

His deep breath was shaky.  "Scully, I asked you
once before to let yourself love me.  I'm asking
again... love me."

"I do," she vowed, remembering the night long ago
when they'd finally gotten past the hurt.  This
moment was as meaningful as that one, more so
because this time, she knew they'd gotten it right. 
Well, almost.  "Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"I seem to remember you saying something about 'no
more ditching' back then, too."

"I did," he admitted, pulling her closer.  His chin
smoothed her hair in a familiar caress. "Can I just
say one thing about that?"

"What?"

"I'm an ass with the uncanny ability to disregard
my own advice."

"Ooh... the good stuff."

A sudden bell from the laptop disturbed their
laughter.  Mulder eased back, his gaze playful but
intense.  "The good stuff will have to wait,
Scully."

"I thought that *was* the good stuff," she quipped,
moving out of his arms to walk to the desk.

Mulder sidestepped her, making it to the chair
before she did.  Ignoring her huff of protest, he
pulled up the window containing the information,
giving her a leer.  "The good stuff was last
night."

Arms crossed, she couldn't resist the dig.  "It
wasn't, believe me," she remarked dryly.

Mouth open, he stared at her, realization dawning
in his eyes as his hand paused over the mouse. 
"You mean, you and I... we didn't -"

"We did," she assured him, then amended, "No, *you*
did, Mulder. *I* didn't, if you get my drift."

Lips pursed, he grumbled, "I was drunk, you know. 
I'll do better next time."

Seeing his dismay, she abandoned her teasing,
dropping a kiss on his short hair.  "I enjoyed it
very much, Mulder," she said softly, "because it
was you."

"You're only saying that because you love me."

"And you will make it up to me later because you
love me, won't you?"

Eyes filled with mischief captured hers.  "In the
hot tub?  Or on the pool table?"  He looked away to
the computer screen, rapidly shifting gears to work
mode, as she'd seen him do often.

Scully tweaked his ear, turning back to the
computer screen.  "We can discuss payback later. 
Among other things."

Mulder missed her little addition, as he was
already peering at the screen, his mind focused on
the matter at hand.  Soon, she wanted to talk about
William.  Even more pressing, she wanted to give
him the validation he needed about Robert.  She
wanted to tell him what a true friend he had in
Marvin, and how the man had pulled a fast one on
her last night - which actually she didn't mind so
much anymore.  But now wasn't the time, not with
Mulder's brain already deciphering the data
scrolling up the screen.

Besides, it was difficult enough to banish from her
mind the sudden mental picture involving her,
Mulder, and a helluva lot of steam.



End Chapter Thirteen