Rendezvous at the Mall II
By Shoshana

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Saturday, September 11th, 1999
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"Can I help you, sir?"

The impeccably groomed woman in her sixties behind the display case pauses for a second, searching through her memory.

"Weren't you just here last week? With your wife?" she says, with a pleasant smile.

"Uh, that wasn't my wife. That was my partner," I say, forgetting that most people don't know I'm an F.B.I. agent.

"Partner? Is this a new term for 'significant other'? I like to keep up with these things, especially considering where I work. One always wants to be polite when referring to customers' loved ones."

I smile sheepishly, realizing my faux pas. "No, ma'am, it's not a new euphemism for significant other. We really are partners, F.B.I. partners."

"Well, you'll have to excuse my audacity, but you two seem so in love..."

"Um, well, that's actually not something we'd like to broadcast to the rest of the world. At least not at the moment."

I didn't see anything wrong with telling the truth to her. Unless she's part of a vast global conspiracy, I doubt if she'll spill the beans to anyone else. She could sense how nervous this interrogation was making me and says, in a motherly tone, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to get too personal. You make such a lovely couple. I didn't mean any harm."

"No harm, ma'am. Just keep it under your hat, please." I put on my best begging face, fully aware that's not really necessary to win her over. But it always gains so much sympathy from women, young or old, that I can't resist.

"Oh, I will, you don't have to worry about that. Now... what can I help you with today?"

"Well, there are some rings, or at least they were there last weekend, in your picture window. You must have changed the display, because I don't see them now."

"Oh, the opals! They're in here now. We like to change things around every week, for varieties' sake. Do you remember which one you're interested in?"

"No, I'm not even sure what to get her. I suppose a ring would be nice. Could you recommend one? Something simple. She wears a lot of suits, clothes with simple lines, you know. Like Donna Karan, I guess. That's the only name I can remember from her wardrobe now."

"I know exactly the one for her. It's very elegant, very fine quality. I know she'll love it," she says enthusiastically.

She unlocks the back of the flat display case and extracts a beautiful ring. One glance at it and I know it's perfect for Scully. I'm so grateful the same saleswoman is here this weekend. She was perceptive enough to see the love between us last Saturday and I trust her judgment on this, too.

It's always been easy for me to accept that some people are more intuitive than others. And this older woman is not only genteel in her manner, she's graced with the uncanny ability to read people's body language. She must have seen me leaning over Scully's shoulder last week, interested in what had caught her attention in the display case.

She must have sensed our bond, our ease with one another when we entered the store to pick up something for Scully's mom. Her powers of observation must be acutely honed from so many years of dealing with people from all walks of life. I call on those abilities when sizing up a suspect, she uses them for the more mundane, happier task of matching the right piece of jewelry to someone's loved one.

"I think that's a great choice, ma'am. You're a gem yourself, in your ability to choose just the right one." I grin at her broadly, enjoying my silly pun.

She smiles back, amused, or maybe just politely tolerant of my joke. She then says, "And I'm absolutely sure your 'partner' has a gem in you, sir. If you'll excuse me for being so bold..."

"No, that's very sweet of you to say. Don't tell her that though. Got to keep her on her little toes..."

She laughs heartily and places the ring in a pretty velvet box. I don't even know how to classify this gift. I don't want Scully to think it's an engagement ring. I don't want her to feel like she's stuck with me, like a bad penny that keeps coming back to her.

I love her, I want to be with her forever, but I realize how hard I am to live with. I want to leave her a way out, a way to bow out gracefully. Forcing her to commit to marriage right now would be a mistake. Even though I love to tease her about making honeymoon videos.

I pay the saleswoman and thank her effusively, with more emotion than the transaction probably merits. She's helped me with an important decision and restored my faith that not everyone is out to get me. Sometimes you need to interact with a nice well-adjusted older lady to realize that the whole world isn't going to hell in a handbasket.

I leave the mall, thinking fondly of our time there last Saturday. Why last week? Why did I follow her to the mall, into the most unlikely place to ask Dana Scully out on a date? I didn't even see all those other women in the lingerie store. All I could see was her strong, little figure, debating whether to buy green or purple underwear.

She looked so sweet, so unspoiled at that moment. I wanted to sweep her up into my arms like that stupid scene in "An Officer and A Gentleman." I knew she wouldn't appreciate that much. Besides, discretion is probably a good thing when asking one's partner out in a crowded store filled with nubile, young women.

I probably should have waited till we were alone, but the words spilled out of my mouth before I could suppress them. And she seemed genuinely pleased with me. Making Scully smile has always been my fondest goal and she didn't disappoint me one bit last Saturday.

I know where I'm driving to now. She's expecting me at her apartment. She's cooking me dinner, something I would never have expected from her. I told her we could go out again, but she insisted, saying that we spend enough time in public restaurants and not enough time at home.

My heart clenches at the word home. That she wants me to share her life, her home, makes me more than happy. Even when I was married, I never felt like I had a home, a place to settle down. My relationship was much too volatile with Diana. We knew that and got married on a whim anyway. It was the biggest mistake of both our lives and I don't blame her for escaping to Europe to get away from me.

I know things are different now with Scully. We've known each other much longer than I ever knew Diana. I think we've loved each other for a very long time, at least I know *I* have. Everything hasn't been smooth and easy all these years, but we keep on coming back to one another, weathering stormy weather that would have already killed the love between most couples.

I began to see us as a couple last spring. I dared to see us as a couple last spring, is more like it. I found out what she'd been hiding from me. What I knew to be true, but she couldn't admit to me, to herself, to the best psychotherapist in the world. That she loved me, that she needed to love me, that she needed me in her life.

Things just couldn't go on the way they were, with no growth, no change in the way we treated one another. Rather than try to tell her how I felt about her, I just showed her that we were better together than apart. That I loved her company and we could do something else than bicker about X-File cases for hours on end.

After that case in North Carolina, the one where we shared hallucinations, I knew our bond had strengthened. She only told me a little about her own hallucination, but it chilled me that one of her worst fears was my own demise. For some strange reason I can't imagine her dead anymore; I think she'll outlive me and everyone else we know.

Her invincibility knows no bounds. She's conquered more life threatening situations in seven years than most people see in a lifetime. That she saw me as a dried out skeleton on a morgue gurney was not comforting.

It was a wake up call, a message to my stupid, stupid self. Don't let her drift away again. Don't let some other man capture her heart and take her away from you. It's a testament to how screwed up I am that it took me all summer to take my own damn advice.

But I finally did and we're together now. Hopefully I won't do something inane, something to alienate her, make her think twice about going through with this relationship. Which no one knows about, well at least not much about.

Frankly, they probably do. We didn't disguise ourselves last weekend. We went out in public, we showed affection above and beyond that of mere partners. It never occurred to me to hide this from anybody, to sneak around town like wanted criminals. If she accepted me as hers, than I'd worry about the consequences come what may. The bad guys had already taken her from me twice. What more could they do to us?

Oh, it smells *so* good as I turn my key in her lock. I sniff the air noisily, announcing my arrival at her place.

"Scully..." I say it loudly, not sure if she's aware of my presence in her apartment.

"Kitchen!" she shouts over one of her CDs. It's some jazz trio or quartet or something that I've never bothered to listen to before. Good thing she has, because I'm really beginning to enjoy her taste in music.

"Hey there," I say, taking in her cooking attire. She's dressed in blue sweats, red sauce all over her. Her hair is swept back with a blue headband, she has virtually no makeup on today. I've never seen her more beautiful, I decide, and sweep my arms around her middle, as my lips seek out her pretty neck.

She makes a nominal effort to struggle out of my grasp, dropping the spoon she's been stirring sauce with on the countertop.

"Hey yourself. Where ya been? You're late." She turns around in my arms and her fingers play with the belt loops of my jeans.

"I'm fifteen minutes late, Scully. Not long enough for you to start worrying." I lean down and kiss her quickly on the lips, then pull back and wrap my hands over her shoulders, kneading tension out of them.

"Yeah, I know. Usually I wouldn't start worrying till Sunday afternoon when I hadn't heard from you all weekend... but now, now I'd like to know you're all right on Saturdays, too."

The expression on her face does me in. She doesn't usually display her emotional insecurities to me, but she feels strongly enough about this to tell me the truth. We've only been involved romantically since last Saturday, but we've made progress since then, refusing to bottle up our feelings, to suppress them for decorum's sake.

I lay her head against my chest and stroke her hair, kissing her forehead lightly. She clasps her hand around me, pulling me as close to her as she can. She's not wearing any heels, but our bodies seem to fit together perfectly today. She may be diminutive in size, but the strength of her love sustains me more powerfully than any drug known to mankind.

"I hate to make you worry, Scully. Even for fifteen minutes time. But you'll get used to this. We're just a little hyper now. We'll get used to a new routine and you won't worry so much. I guarantee it."

I lift her head up with one hand, palm her cheek, and place another kiss on her forehead. She places both her hands on my chest and smiles at me, lustily? No, hungrily. For food, that is.

"Come on, let's have dinner. I'm going to forget how irrationally silly I've been over a plate of linguini," she says.

"I have no argument with that. Want help?"

"Uh, just pour some tea from the pitcher in the fridge, O.K.?"

"Good as done, happy homemaker."

That gets me a slap across my butt as she pushes me toward the appropriate cabinet. I glance back at her and she's still smiling. My, she's always wanted to do that, hasn't she? I'm not surprised. I've wanted to be on the receiving end for years.

There's so much more we have to experience with one another and I'm not just talking about sex. Though that would certainly be the highlight of my weekend if it comes to pass, I am perfectly happy to let things go as they have the past week. Waking up in her arms for the very first time last Sunday morning was one of the best experiences of my life.

She was still asleep, it must have been close to six a.m. and I couldn't keep my eyes closed any longer. I just laid on my side, cradling her, watching her sleep. I've watched her sleep many times, but not while she's wearing cotton pj's, blue flowers strewn all over them. Not while she's snuggled in my arms, in her own bed.

I didn't want to wake her, but I couldn't resist stroking her skin gently, savoring its soft texture, its sweet smell. She smells like the vanilla gel she uses in her shower. That and the lilac-scented shampoo in her hair.

I tried to memorize every inch of her body, slack with sleep. I dared to push the covers away so that I could see all of her, down to her enchanting little toes. I tease her about her little legs, but it's those childlike feet that get to me in a big way.

I've only had glimpses of them, in hotel rooms, the few times I've seen her wear sandals. I never imagined I might have a toe fetish till I was introduced to Scully's all too charming ones. I've stared at her three-inch pumps through more boring meetings than I can count, imagining what color polish she'd chosen that day. I'll have to make sure I lavish attention on them from now on...

Her hands move when she sleeps. She's extraordinarily active in her dreams and her hands are busy while she slumbers. They clench, unclench, move from side to side. I think I even saw her swat a fly while lying there beside her. I almost laughed out loud, but caught myself, not wanting to end my Scully watching session.

I'm sitting at the kitchen table, having poured our drinks and exited Scully's flurry of activity. I can still observe her, testing the pasta, bringing one strand up to her lips. She's totally unaware that I'm staring at her. The last time she glanced over here, I was engrossed in the newspaper, seemingly ignoring her travails.

That's the way I prefer it. I like to see her move naturally around her home, opening this, closing that. It goes without saying I love to see her taste food, flick her tongue along the spoon, lick the remnants off her lips. If there's something more erotic than that, I'd like to see it. I hope to see it. We'll have plenty of time to explore all those possibilities, now that we have a night to spend alone.

We've had a very busy week, working twelve to eighteen hour days. It's no wonder we never got around to sleeping in the same bed together again. I only slept over here once this week and it was unintentional. I was too tuckered out to drive home. I fell asleep on the couch, waking to see that it was already seven a.m. I went into the bedroom and kissed a sleepy Scully goodbye, telling her I'd see her at 8:30 in Skinner's office. I barely made it to work on time, confirming the wisdom of sleeping apart during the work week.

Sooner or later, if all goes well, we'll move in with each other. No need to rush into this. We're not college kids sleeping on our mattresses, trying to save money by shacking up together. I think we need our own places now, just so we can have a place to go if we infuriate one another. Hell, we already had some pissy little arguments about cases this week. We apologized, *after* we took a break from each other.

"Ready, Mulder?"

I snap out of my trance and look up from the newspaper I'm not really reading. "Yeah, I sure am. Can I do anything else?"

"Sure, you can grab the parmesan cheese and the red pepper flakes."

"Oh, Scully, you *do* know what I like..." I say suggestively, referring to the hot, little fireballs of flavor that no one else seems to like. She must have bought them for me, because I've never seen her eat them.

We finally sit down and eat our salads quietly, occasionally discussing her Mom's vegetable garden. Her mother insisted on bringing over more produce than Scully could ever ever eat herself. She ended up bringing a bagful to work, offering it up to the bullpen one day.

The vultures swarmed over it, like they had never encountered home grown tomatoes before. I had to smile at the gift to our former colleagues. I guess they hadn't been all that bad. We'd all been miserable together, doing background checks and other trivial tasks in one large room together.

Scully grabs our salad plates and brings in huge portions of pasta. I know I'll make it through mine, but I'm amazed that she thinks she'll be getting through *that*. The fun starts when we decide to feed one another. I've never had the pleasure of doing that before and I'm really enjoying myself now.

I feel like I'm living out my 'Tom Jones' fantasy, as she insists on twirling the spaghetti onto her fork with a flourish and reaching it over to my mouth. I follow suit, scooting my chair closer to hers so it's easier to feed her. Then, I notice the sauce on her chin and well, I had to do something about that, didn't I?

Ten minutes later, most of our dinner has been eaten, some off our plates, some off each other's faces. I feel very full and very aroused. From the sultry look on Scully's face, I know she feels the same. I guess I'm not going to have a chance to give her that ring till much later tonight...

With minimal protest, she lets me drag her to the couch, where we start to make out like teenagers. I'm enjoying this way too much and I know where it's leading to... That's why I have to make sure now. Make sure that if we make love tonight, she'll have absolutely no regrets. We have too much to lose if she does.

"Hey, hey. Slow down, tigress. Time out," I say, eliciting a curious look from her as I separate from her on the couch.

"Mulder! I thought you wanted this!" She looks at me like I'm an escaped mental patient, and a dangerous one to boot.

"Only if you do. And I'm not trying to question your judgment or anything. But Scully, I just can't make out on the couch anymore. It's driving me nuts. I want to do things right and make love to you in the bedroom. But I want you to be ready for that. I don't want to push it."

"Oh. Well. Let's just go in there, then."

"You're sure?"

"Sure, of course I'm sure!" Her voice rises with anger and I cringe, fearing the worst. "I've been waiting to do this all week! Who cares if we do it on the couch?"

"I just thought..."

"Mulder, I am so damn horny now that I would do it on the kitchen table if you asked me to! Now, get your carcass into the bedroom!"

I obey my mistress, trailing after her to the bedroom, where she fusses about, lighting a few well-placed candles, pulling back the bedcovers. She then turns her attention to me, smiling seductively as she undresses me slowly, button by button.

I'm not complaining. Whatever has infected her and caused this wanton behavior is fine with me. I just never expected her to be so aggressive. Why, I don't know. She's certainly assertive at work and in other aspects of our relationship. Maybe I ought to snap out of and accept her as God's gift to Mulder.

I think I'm having a religious conversion as I speak, or at least my body is. She's completely disrobed me and is standing across from me, waiting for me to do the same to her. I want to, but I am temporarily stunned into inaction by her steely gaze. I feel her scrutiny as she swipes her eyes up and down my body in the candlelight. The quirk in her smile brings a grin to my lips and I feel like I'm having a flashback to our fungi experience last spring. This has to be a hallucination.

"Scully, stop sizing me up like that!"

"Oh, I'm pretty happy with the size of it, Mulder," she purrs, drawing me close, placing my hands underneath her top. We rub against one another and share a long sensual kiss. I peel off her sweatshirt, no longer hesitant about any of tonight's activities. I pull at her sweatpants, removing them quickly, pausing at her feet to worship those aforementioned toes.

When I get up off my knees, I notice that she's wearing the bra and panties she bought last week. She looks so pretty in them, I just stand there, taking in the sight.

"Oh, Scully." It's all I can think to say. 'Spout some poetry or something, Oxford grad,' I berate myself.

"You like?"

"*You* know what I like, Scully. You look so beautiful. I just had to stop and look at you. But... I guess I'll have to take action sooner or later..."

I lean down to capture a kiss, drawing it out so I can lull her into a languid state of arousal. I feel energized, absolutely fantastic. I'm kissing Scully in her underwear, in her bedroom, finally getting laid by the woman I love.

She's floating in my arms, kissing me back with equal passion and I decide to astonish her a little by grabbing her and lifting her onto the bed. She giggles like a kid, trying to break free of my arms. I know it's just a game. She's not going anywhere and neither am I.

She scoots up the bed and lays her head on the pillow, daring me to strip her naked. I have no choice in the matter. I do just that, carefully removing her bra, relishing every second as I slowly reveal her breasts. Again, I am stunned by her beauty. I've only had a glimpse of her a few times, most recently in that damn decon shower. She saw me looking at her that day and I'm surprised she didn't slap the shit out of me when we got to the locker room. Maybe she was looking at me too and she felt a tiny bit guilty.

"Scully..." Again, I'm lost for words, her name being the substitute for all other conversation.

"Come here, Mulder." She pulls me up to her mouth again, ready for more kisses, as my chest rubs against her bare breasts. I reach down and play with them and she moans her approval.

"Scully, now isn't this more fun than the couch?"

"Yes, Mulder. I know you always want to be right..."

She gives me a little pout, pretending to be upset. I know her better than to believe she's anything but delighted now and proceed to lavish her nipples with my thumbs, drawing concentric circles there. I take one in my mouth and she emits a yelp of pleasure, threading her hands through my hair.

"Oh, please do that, please, Mulder."

My God, she's so sensitive. She's thrashing around on the bed like I'm licking her. That's next on the menu and ought to really be something if she's getting off on this so much.

I give her other breast equal attention and start my journey down south. I kiss her belly button and stop there, raising my eyes, locking them with hers, asking permission to go further.

"Yes. Please." Her blue eyes glimmer in the candlelight and I see the pleasure she's deriving from our foreplay. I've forgotten about anything but her. I can feel my erection, that's for sure, but I'm trying not to think about it. I want to give her as much pleasure as I can before I enter her.

I kiss my way to her auburn curls, nuzzling her, feeling her body vibrate against me. I part her legs and rub my face against her thighs. She's so soft, her arousal smells so good. Finally, I dive right in, licking at her wetness, lapping up as much as I can. She is pulling at my hair. It almost hurts, but not as much as stopping this would. I must be on an acid trip now. I've only dreamed about doing this and the reality is so much sweeter.

She's so close, I can tell. Contented squeals of pleasure have escalated into breathless moans of ecstacy. She's bucking against me, on the verge of an orgasm. I realize that I'm so turned on by this that I'm not going to last too much longer. So, I stop what I'm doing, much to her dismay.

"Mulder... more..."

"Oh, there's more, Scully. Just from a different source..."

"Now... please..." she groans.

I am only too happy to oblige her, taking care to lavish her with kisses all the way back to her pretty mouth. I stop there, pressing our lips together, more roughly, more passionately than before.

"Are you ready, sweetheart?"

"Yes, please..."

She reaches between us and caresses my penis, sending fire throughout my body.

"Oh, God. Scully. I've got to get inside you..."

She laughs, amused, a bit perturbed that I haven't entered her yet. "Well, come on, Mulder. That's what I've been waiting for..."

Well, if you put it that way, I guess I'd better...

"Ah, Mulder..."

I'm inside my love for the first time, balancing with my hands beside her so I can read the expression on her face. She has her eyes closed and her mouth curves up blissfully.

"Open your eyes, Scully. I want to see you."

She opens them, and I can see the pleasure in them, in every muscle of her face. I haven't moved inside her, just waiting for this moment, just as I'd choreographed it in my mind, in all my fantasies. My fantasies are a pale imitation of what I feel now. There's no way I could have imagined how overwhelmed with love and lust I'd be. Scully means everything in the world to me and making love to her is the ultimate expression of my devotion to her.

I move now, as she pulls her legs around me tighter, asking for more penetration. I realize that we'd be better off if she were on top. I roll over onto my back, bringing her along with me. She'll be able to move around more and as for me, it's not long before I completely lose control. I was so close before and I'm just hanging on now.

Scully sets the pace now, teasing me by pulling up slowly, then lowering herself down with the same lazy movements. This is driving me insane and she knows it.

I pull her close and whisper, "Scully, please... faster..." She can see the desperation in my eyes and she smiles a devilish little smile.

"O.K."

And she does quicken the pace, riding me, meeting my now frantic thrusts. She swoops down for a kiss and I pull her to my chest, capturing her in my arms as our bodies move as one.

Soon, I can feel her contractions, she's so tight and so wet now and she's crying out my name. That's all it takes... I'm done for, thrusting upward in a frenzy, coming inside her for the first time.

She collapses on me, spent, sweaty, trembling. I squeeze her body to mine, not letting her move an inch. She peeks up at me from my chest and we kiss and smile slyly at one another.

"Like that, Scully?"

"What's not to like?"

"I'll take that as a yes, then."

"Yes, Mulder. You have nothing to worry about. The experiment was a success."

"Experiment? Am I nothing but a scientific phenomena to you?"

"Am I nothing but a paranormal phenomena to *you*?"

"Well, that was an unearthly experience, Scully. I felt my essence leaving my body."

"Oh, ha ha, Mulder. Very funny. Maybe I oughta check your behind for any tell-tale tails..."

"Oh, not an Eddie joke. Please Scully. Let's not discuss him. It's too painful."

"You don't seem to be in pain now. You look pretty out of it to me. So... do you think thirty-eight year old men can get it up two times in one night?"

"Scully!"

"Just a thought for later."

"Well, there's hope for later. I have certainly unleashed a different Dana Scully tonight. I don't know how much more of this I can take..."

"No, Mulder. You didn't unleash me. You just gave me a damn good reason to come out of hiding. You know it's been a long time for me. I've been waiting for you, you know that... I've been waiting to see what you'd do about Diana. If you'd run off with her I probably would have shot you."

"You're kidding? You're jealous of her?" I find it incredible that she's bringing up my ex-wife now.

"Who else? I saw you holding hands with her last year. I've never known much about your former relationship, except what Frohike said..."

"What did *he* say?" I was going to kill Frohike, soon.

"He said Diana was your chickadee."

"Oh, shit. Scully, here, here's the truth. We worked together, we dated, we were in a love/hate relationship together. And we foolishly married one another."

Scully gasps, pushes herself off me, then sits cross-legged next to me on the bed.

"And you don't think that was important enough to tell me before now." Her voice is expressionless, her face clearly angry.

"Scully." I sit up against the headboard, looking her straight in the eye. "*She* left *me*. She divorced me after three months and ran off to Europe. And we have not been, nor do I want to be involved with her now. Why would I do that? I've been in love with you for years."

I look over at her, hoping what she sees in my eyes will convince her of my words.

"Are you sure?"

"Scully, of course I'm sure. Would I be here with you now? Would I have had the best sex of my life with you if I wanted her? Jeez, I don't know how else to tell you... Wait a minute. You stay right here, O.K.?"

"It's my bedroom, Mulder. *I'm* not going anywhere," she says a little too haughtily, but I'll forgive her for now.

I run out to the living room and retrieve the little jewelry box. I conceal it behind my back, which is quite comical, since I'm naked as the day I was born. It's no wonder Scully is amused when I saunter back into her bedroom.

I sit down on the bed again, right beside her. Her eyes question me and I hastily compose a speech in my mind. Oh, hell, fuck speeches. Just talk to her.

"Scully, I love you. Only you. I don't care about Diana anymore. Believe me, there is nothing there anymore. In fact, I don't even know where she's run off to. I only care about her as a friend. That's it."

"O.K., I'll accept that. But I still think that's she's dirty."

"You mean involved with the Consortium? I don't know. I don't even want to speculate. But, that has nothing to do with us, right now, right this minute. You're the only woman I love. Please believe me, Scully. I love you..."

I decide that words are not enough anymore. She either believes my declarations, or she doesn't. I reveal the box to her and place it firmly in her hands.

"I saw what caught your eye at the jewelry store last week. So I went back there today..."

"Mulder, you didn't have to!"

"Oh, yes I did. Just because, O.K.? It's just a nice gift for you. You don't have to feel obligated, or think I'm trying to rush things or anything, alright?"

I piqued her interest just now and she turns her attention to the box, curiously. She opens it and lets out a little gasp, then looks up at me with a broad smile.

"Mulder... how did you know which one I wanted?"

"The saleslady knew. She picked that one out. I think she can read people like a book."

"Well, she certainly chose well. This is the one I wanted." She looks embarrassed now, her eyes cast downward. "I'm sorry I doubted you. I... just... I'm sorry."

I take her into my arms, positioning her against my chest. I lean down and scatter kisses over her face, ending with a solid one on her lips.

"It doesn't matter, Scully. You didn't run away from me. You talked it out with me. We had a disagreement, we resolved it. Granted we're naked and we've just made love and there's no place to run to... and I wouldn't let you out of my sight now for the world. But, there's nothing to be sorry for. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I know... but neither did you. You did everything right this time. Maybe you have been doing everything right for a long time and I just haven't noticed. Mulder, it's a lovely ring. I don't feel like we're rushing into anything. I'll be happy to wear it. I'll be happy to consider it as anything you want me to."

"You would?"

"Yes. We've already had the world's longest courtship, we might as well accelerate things a bit."

Dry wit illuminates her smile and I grin back, delighted with her approval. Things could not have turned out better. I hope.
  

fin

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