Truce
Chapter Sixteen

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Everything was hot, roaring in his ears, his cheeks
feeling as though flames licked at their flushed
contours.  Even his fingertips felt like they were
on fire; moments ago they'd been cool and assured. 
Now, they shook with the need to grab onto
something, to assuage the scorching heat of the red
they touched.  But like a slick new swathe of silk,
his fingers found no purchase in its folds.

He'd fooled himself into thinking he would have it
always.  With typical arrogance, he'd gotten used
to it, never missing it until it was gone.

It wasn't the angry red of years past, tinged with
jealousy and the pain of dreams never to be
fulfilled.  This red was pure desire and raging
passion, something he'd never seen before.  He knew
it not by the shade of gray but by the true,
blinding color he perceived at last.  He could see
it.  Touch it with his body, smell it on her skin. 
Pinpointed in the darkness by the single light
above, it filled his mind with the throes of its
birth.

He welcomed the unfamiliar sensation as one who'd
spent his whole life with gray for red, the dismal
non-color a constant reminder of his physical
frailty.  He embraced the strength of the color,
loved it and cherished it, realized he had the
chance to always keep it close.  With her.  Only
with her.

Scully's face swam before his eyes, flushed pink
with arousal, drifting on the makeshift pillow as
she sought release.  Lips bitten rosy as she
climbed higher to the pinnacle, she was difficult
to look at, as fleeting as the color red.  He
wanted to keep the image in his brain forever, in
full Technicolor.  He'd remember this moment from
now on, but would he retain the red?

Moving as he was, wrapped in the roping strength of
her bare legs, thought and remembrance were almost
impossible to grasp.  His smooth fucking became
jerky and he grimaced, feeling himself get too
caught up, thinking too much.

As if sensing his struggle to hold on to the
feeling, she dropped her hands from around his
neck, her face relaxing, her body dissolving into
submission.  Slowly, she spread her arms above her
head, twin lines of pale muscle and fragile bone. 
They looked so white against the red, inviting his
possession.  Head angled on the black silk, she
closed her eyes, offering herself as permanent
sacrifice to his memory.

Hands that were moments ago seeking color calmed,
having realized the treasure was within reach. 
They glided up her flesh and his fingers curled
around her wrist bones.  As he captured the
stunning strength of her gift, he felt her plant
her feet, her hips lifting up to change his angle
of penetration.  With a groan born in the depths of
his chest he loomed over her, taking her with
renewed purpose.

His name came from her lips in a choked whisper. 
Around his flesh, he felt hers clench in rhythmic
waves as she reached orgasm.  He worked harder to
stay within her, thrusting deep with short, quick
strokes.  Trembling, careful not to crush her with
his full weight, he leaned down to touch her hair
with his lax lips.  As she slowly melted into
relaxation, trying her best to stay with him, he
finally came.  His knees anchored her hips as he
ground into her, feeling her feet leave the hard
surface beneath them to dangle over his calves. 
Over and over he pulsed into her, his guttural cry
one of satisfaction and triumph.

Boneless, he rested lightly upon her soft body, his
nose filled with the scent of red and... chalk.  He
sneezed into his wrinkled smoking jacket and
groaned, feeling his body give one last jerk.

Smooth move, he thought with mortification. 
Scully's breasts tickled his sweaty chest and he
realized she was giggling.  Trying her best to be
silent about it, but it was there.

Great.  Just about the best sex of his life, and he
spewed from both ends.

"Sorry." Her squeaked apology lowered to a sultry
murmur as she added, "Would it help if I said even
the sneeze was fantastic?"

He absorbed her laughter into himself, lifting his
head to catch her twinkling gaze.  In the light
from the single lamp above, she was unbelievably
defined.  He'd never seen her so clearly, so
untamed and natural.  Red on black on red... her
hair wild and tangled in his smoking jacket, laying
upon the vivid crimson baize.

"Thank you for indulging my whim, Mulder."

"My pleasure," he drawled, wondering if she had any
other whims as mind-blowing as that one.  "Think
you've got it down now?"

"What?"

"Pool."

"Hmm..." Scully ran one hand over his thigh, giving
his knee a squeeze.  "That's up to you, I suppose. 
As my instructor, would you say I've mastered it?"

"You've done well, grasshopper.  In fact, I'd say
you taught me something."

"Like what?"

Like a new appreciation for the color red?  She'd
think he was nuts if he claimed to finally see it. 
"Like my knees aren't as bad as I thought they
were."

"Neither are your pool moves, Jaws.  We'll have to
try that again someday."

Mulder swallowed, wishing they could stay there
forever.  He hadn't nearly had enough of red yet. 
Maybe another round on the pool table wasn't a bad
idea.  The thought was quickly discarded as he felt
the sudden pinch of muscles unused to making love
on what felt like cloth-covered concrete. 
Groaning, he dropped his head to her shoulder with
regret.

"Scully?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind helping me move?"

Like she'd finished the Bureau class on self-
defense just yesterday, she rolled him over.  One
quick, strong move and he found himself flat on his
back, his jacket shoved under his head.  Her
smiling face hovered over his.  "Better?"

"Except for the cue ball up my ass, I'm fine."

Pressing a kiss to his lips, she murmured, "Chaos
will do that to you, I suppose."  In an instant,
her soft smooch had turned devouring, her teeth
pulling at his lower lip.  "Since you feel so fine,
I have another idea."

"Does it involve a bed?  Please say it involves a
bed."

"It's not even midnight, Mulder."  Her gaze shifted
to a point past his head, then back to his, heavy-
lidded with desire.  "Bet we can make that pinball
machine tilt."


**********


"I had you," she said, accepting the bite with a
smile.  So the crawfish pie was well past the point
of edibility by the time they'd made it beyond the
game room.  And even if she couldn't make him admit
he'd fallen for the pinball machine gag, she
couldn't say she was dissatisfied with the change
of venue.

Eating on fine china in the middle of Mulder's bed,
a bottle of very expensive Chardonnay close at
hand, a very tousled, almost naked, uncommonly sexy
man feeding her stale Wheat Thins and peanut butter
- it just didn't get any better.  Especiially since
she'd made him weak with the possibility of
tackling pinball sex.

"You had nothing." He echoed her earlier words with
a slightly miffed curl of his eyebrow as he popped
another cracker into her mouth.

"Why can't you admit it?" she mumbled, scraping the
stickiness from the roof of her mouth.  She
declined the next cracker with a shake of her head. 
"You can't shut me up, you know."

"Don't I know it."  Mulder deposited the plate on
the night stand, asking her with a nod if she
wanted more wine.  She gave him her glass, silently
responding no with another shake of her head, while
her eyes dared him to keep to the subject.  He
sighed, standing.  "All right.  Maybe I was just a
little..."

Wrapping his smoking jacket a bit tighter around
her waist, she stood also.  From the opposite side
of the bed, she gestured for him to grab the
coverlet.  "Gullible?" she offered, watching his
face come and go as they vigorously tented the
coverlet.  Crumbs fell in a shower to the floor;
she'd have to vacuum before Marvin returned.  She
didn't want to piss off the fastidious man - it was
bad enough he still tended to look at her like
she'd stolen Mulder's puppy.

"Can you blame me?  We'd just rocked a hundred-
year-old billiards table."  He tucked the spread
into the crack at the foot of the bed.  "Forgive me
if I had no trouble picturing you bent over a
pinball machine.  I had no idea you were so -"

"Sex-crazed?"  God, she was having fun.  Free to
talk, free to smile and joke and have the wildest
sex of their relationship without wondering if the
walls had ears and the smoke alarm cloaked a hidden
camera.

"Inventive," he amended with a grin.  He turned out
the light and got beneath the covers; when she
joined him, he caught her close.  "I think 'sex-
crazed' would eventually kill me."

She snuggled into his warmth, letting the peace of
the night settle around them with a smile.  For
once, she felt like they were truly together.  As
if the house was the safest place in the world, as
if they need never leave again.  She supposed if
she asked, Mulder would see to it that they never
would.  They could live out their lives in comfort
beyond her meager imagination, waited on hand and
foot by Marvin, only venturing out in the
impregnable armor of the limousine.

But she didn't want that, and she knew he didn't
either.  To savor one night of carefree loving was
a given, but neither would sacrifice true freedom
for the sham of hiding.  Or would they?

"Mulder?"

"Hmm?"

"If we don't succeed -"

"Don't even think it."  His arms tightened around
her as if he thought she'd vanish into thin air.

"But we have to, don't you see?  What if we can
never be free?"

"Scully, we're free now."

"We aren't," she sighed, rolling away from him. 
"This is not freedom, Mulder."

He followed as she knew he would, curling around
her back, his breath tickling her ear.  "You said
you wouldn't leave."

"And I won't." She grabbed the hand that laid over
her heart.  "But this isn't us, Mulder."

"Making love and eating peanut butter?  All we need
is Skinner breathing down our necks for expense
reports, Scully, and we're set.  Besides, I thought
we weren't going to discuss work."  At her tensing,
he became more serious.  "I know this isn't us,
Scully.  But why can't we win *and* have this?  Why
can't we have a happy ending now and then?  I've
got news for you - I like where I am, even though I
never was one for being rich.  I like knowing I
have the means and power now to attack the enemy on
an even playing field."

"Money isn't everything, Mulder."

"But you can't deny it helps, Scully."

"All the money in the world won't give me back my
son."

The arms around her reacted to her soft statement,
the muscles bunching around her waist.  Beneath her
ass, his legs shifted, putting just a hair's
breadth of space between them.  It was enough for
her to sense stormy waters ahead.  His answer
confirmed her suspicions.  "Even without money,
I'll get him back."

Selfishness told her she should just agree.  Say
'of course' and kiss him until they both drowned in
the innocence of the night.  As always, her mind
overruled her heart.  Instead of letting false
peace guide her lips, she let the possibility come
forth - as awful as it may be to contemplate. 
Truthful though it was, it was guaranteed to cast a
pall over the night. 

"What if you can't?"

"I will."

"Don't do this for me, Mulder.  I told you I
wouldn't leave and I meant it."

"I'd do anything for you, Scully.  I do
*everything* for you."  Anger hardened his voice. 
"Whatever happened to 'not accepting defeat'?"

"Sometimes it's harder to fight for one person than
to fight the whole world."

"And sometimes it's easier to give up than fight at
all."

She faced him, noting the harsh planes of his face
even in the semi-darkness of the bedroom.  "Like I
did when I gave him away?"

"Did I say that?"

In opposite to his rising tone, she kept her voice
soft and even.  "No, but it's what you meant, isn't
it?"

"Well, if the shoe fits..." Mulder let her go with
a quick jerk of his body; when she saw him pull at
the covers, she quickly followed, stopping his
flight with a hand on his back. Hunched over the
side of the bed, his tense accusation matched the
rigid line of his spine.  In an instant, he'd
relaxed, his tone softening.  "God Scully, I'm
sorry."

Well, she'd pursued and he'd fought back.  So she
shouldn't really be surprised, should she?  The
evening had been picture perfect to this point,
like a dream.  Then again, she had to wake up
eventually.  This wasn't the first time he'd thrown
a barb about the adoption her way, only to
immediately back off, even if this time she'd
instigated it.  Much as he retreated, she knew the
words were a reflection of his hurt and sense of
betrayal at what she'd done without his knowledge
or consent.  And they'd shoved aside the subject of
William long enough.

With a sigh, she flipped on the bedside lamp and
left the bed to walk to his side.  "Why?  It's the
truth."  She was tired of skirting the issue;
Mulder, in his need to keep her close, had bitten
his tongue since they'd been reunited days ago. 
Though not the best time to resurrect old hurts, it
seemed the moment had been thrust upon them and she
was suddenly ready to clear the air.  Doubts and
mistrusts had no place anymore in their
relationship.

"Why are you bringing this up now?"

"Why not?"  She couldn't believe *she* was the one
pressing *him* to talk.  "Mulder, if I'm going to
stay with you in this place, we'll have to find
something else to do besides fuck."

"This from a woman who an hour ago nearly attacked
me in the game room.  I'll never be able play nine
ball with Marvin again."  He deliberately cracked a
grin.  But it was forced and not at all his usual
easy smile.  He wanted badly not to discuss
William, as if by avoiding him, they could dream.

Well, that was too damned bad.  Dreams weren't
guarantees.  Real life was what she wanted.  She
crossed her arms with warning.  "Mulder."

"I can call Skinner, maybe have a few travel
requests faxed over..." At her pinched look, he
relented, standing to say in a more serious tone,
"Look, Scully - we don't have to solve every little
problem between us in one night."

"William is not a 'little' problem, Mulder.  You
obviously harbor some anger toward me because of
the adoption."  Lifting her chin, she issued the
challenge.  "Let's hear it."

He resisted, copping a defensive pose of his own,
his hands on his hips as he tensed his jaw.  "You
say all *this* -" One hand waved at the opulence of
the room. "Is not us.  Neither is 'talking', in
case you hadn't noticed."

"If I can get used to an overflowing bank account
and a house big enough for an army, you can talk to
me."  At his silent refusal, she decided to prod
until she made him talk.  "Looks like I'll have to
begin, won't I?"

"I wish you'd leave this alone."

"We don't always get what we wish for.  Of all
people, we should know that."  She moved forward
until he had no choice but to meet her steady gaze. 
"It's okay to hate me for what I did, Mulder."

"I don't hate you!" Incredulity widened his eyes. 
But his step back belied his sensitivity to the
remark, and she took the opportunity to advance.

"I know what I did, Mulder.  I gave away your son. 
All I can say is at the time, I thought it best. 
He needed a security I couldn't provide.  An
anonymity that would give him a chance to lead a
normal life.  I didn't have the means to hide him
away and keep him safe.  No safe house in the world
would have been safe enough, given the ease with
which the Consortium moved about the Bureau."  She
angled her head from side to side, trying to hold
on to his wandering eyes.  He was becoming
agitated, something she very much wanted. 
Agitation meant he was about to join in the fray. 
"What would you have had me do?"

With a huff, he walked around her, the truth
spilling from him at last.  "You should have told
me.  I could have -"

"What?"  With the breakthrough, she walked to his
side, daring him to stare her down.  "Taken him on
the run with you?  Jesus Mulder - you couldn't even
sneak back into DC on a train in the middle of the
night without all the wrong people catching wind of
it!  Don't tell me we could have worked it out,
because we couldn't."

His hand came up to rub his nape; the jaw-cracking
set of his mouth eased.  Still, he didn't look at
her as he replied softly, "I just wanted to see
him, Scully.  To see you.  This is gonna sound
stupid, but I was almost relieved when they caught
me in Mount Weather.  Because even though I was in
prison, it meant I could at least see you both. 
And then, to have Skinner tell me you'd..." His
voice trailed off in a broken swallow of pain
remembered.

Scully grabbed the opportunity; standing before
him, she peered frantically into his face, her
hands cupping his cheeks.  "I'm sorry, Mulder," she
whispered, fighting tears of her own.  "If I had to
do it over again, I wouldn't.  I'd have kept him
with me at all costs.  I'd have left DC, found
another life somewhere, with or without you.  There
isn't a day that goes by that I wish I'd kept him. 
Don't you see that?  If I'd known we'd end up here,
I never would have let him go."

Her distress, evident in face and voice, made
Mulder relax.  Sweeping her up into his arms, he
cradled her like a child, his murmur into her neck
soft.  "It's okay, it's okay."

She'd never been one for begging, for regrets and
second thoughts.  It was a new, painful experience,
and she realized it was past time to admit her
shortcomings.  "All my life, I tried to do what Dad
would do when presented with a problem - weigh your
options, make a decision, then stick by it.  If the
path you took ended up being a mistake, then admit
it.  If fixable, fix it.  If not, learn from it. 
But God, Mulder - I can't fix this one.  I don't
know how.  And I don't want it to pop up every time
you feel the need to strike out at me."

Their son was lost to them.  Quite possibly
forever.  Even with all his money and power, Mulder
couldn't guarantee they'd ever get William back. 
They had options, of course.  Legal loopholes with
which to obtain custody - lack of Mulder's
signature on the adoption papers first and
foremost.  But it had been so long.  Would it be
wise to tear William from the only family he'd
known?  To do so could result in an even bigger
mistake than the one she'd made in giving him up.

"I'm sorry."  Mulder took a deep breath, his hands
soothing over her shaking body.  "I won't ever say
anything about it again.  About *him* again."

No, that wasn't what she wanted.  She wanted to
have William live in their minds, if he couldn't
exist in their lives as a child they could cuddle
and love.  Mulder was a man who'd kept his sister
alive for years, kept hope alive even now.  She was
a woman who suppressed memory and emotion to stave
off hurt.  It saddened her to realize she'd almost
made him what she was.  What she had been.  No
longer.

"I want you to talk about him," she insisted.  "I
want you to ask anything you want and I'll tell you
all I remember, okay?"

"But you - I don't want to -"

"Make me unhappy?" Pulling back, she searched his
sad face, giving him a watery smile.  "Mulder, I
need to remember William.  I need to keep him alive
and in my heart, just like you do."  She didn't
voice her dread that they'd never see him again,
instead concentrating on keeping him close in the
only way they could.  "C'mon."

He resisted the tug of her hand for a moment. 
"Where are we going?"

"We're going to see our son.  Together."


**********


It took him a while to settle down.  He wasn't a
bit surprised Scully knew about the files on his
computer and like a child at Christmas, he dove
into them with relish.  He'd waited so long. 
Waited for *her*.

He couldn't stop grinning, flashing through the
photographs with non-stop enthusiasm.  William in a
supermarket buggy, reaching for Cheetos while no
one was looking.  William in the snow, only his
eyes peeking out above the bundling.  Most
recently, William in the park, a brown and white
mutt licking at his heels.

"Jesus, he's got my nose."

"He's beautiful, nose and all.  Looks just like
you, Mulder."

"He's got your chin."

"Stubborn?"

"Courageous.  Determined.  See how he's digging in
the sandbox?"

"Looks like he's not making much progress.  The dog
will get to China before William hits sedimentary
rock."

"He's methodical and thorough.  The sign of a great
analytical mind.  If anything, I'm more like Joey
there."

"Panting after me?"

"Funny."  He shifted her in his lap, inching the
mouse over the next thumbnail to bring it up in
full, glorious color.  "See?  Got sand in my eyes
from having the backhoe in third gear.  And
naturally, you sit there grinning with the 'I told
you so.'"  The next photo came up; boy and dog in a
sloppy, cheerful embrace.  "But your soft heart
wins out and you kiss my boo-boo."

Her head slowly dropped to rest in the crook of his
neck, her mussed hair soft against his jaw.  She
said nothing, just curled into him, her legs
drawing up as if she wanted to dissolve into his
body.  The hand that had been absently playing in
the hair at his nape stilled, and the other came up
to lie upon his chest.  He imagined his heart
beneath her fingers surge up at the prospect of the
close contact between love and strength.  His own
hand completed the melding, leaving the desk to
cover hers.

He felt her sorrow drape over them, and knew she'd
given in to her regret and guilt.  It had always
been there, skirting the edges of her face and eyes
whenever she spoke of their son.  When he'd
foolishly tapped into it with his well-placed
arrows, he'd seen it flare to life.  Just as it did
now... except this hadn't taken an arrow.  All it
took was one look at what she was missing.

"Thank you, Scully."

Her hand faced his palm to palm; the clasp was
simple but invincible in its grip.  "For what?" she
whispered, her question husky.  Sadness gathered in
her voice, dwindling it to almost non-existence. 
"I'm the one who gave him away."

"And tonight, you gave him back to me.  Thank you."

She raised her tear-stained face to his.  "As
you've done for me."

Lips hovering over hers, he pushed away the cloud
hanging over them once and for all.  "Think I can
take care of this boo-boo with a kiss?"

Her lashes fell and her voice trembled with
lingering self-recrimination.  "That's a mighty big
boo-boo for one kiss."

"Then I guess I'll just have to use two.  Or three. 
Or four."

As he touched her mouth, he felt her shake with new
tears.  So maybe he'd have to kiss her five times. 
Or six.  Or a thousand.

However many it took.  They had forever.


End Chapter Sixteen