******The Fragile Trilogy Compiled*******

Uspeakable Acts
Fragile
Fragile - The Sequel

************************************

Fragile - Unspeakable Act
by Leyla Harrison

Personal Disclaimer/Summary/Rating:  Many people out there have read Fragile, 
a story I wrote just over a year ago.  What you're about to read is what 
happened before that story started.  This story contains a violent rape and 
is rated NC-17 for violence and language.  If this disturbs you, please stop 
reading now.  

I want to say that I really appreciate everyone who wrote to me in support of 
Fragile.  It's a really hard story to read - not to mention that it was hell 
to write.  This one was no different.  But like I said when I wrote Fragile, 
it was a very necessary story to write, and I believe that I made the right 
decision to post it.  I feel the same way about this story.  Some things just 
take more time to come out than others.

********

Dana Scully finished up the last of the dishes from dinner and headed into 
the bathroom, brushing her teeth and surveying her appearance in the mirror 
critically.  

You need more than a good night's sleep, she thought wryly.  You need a 
vacation, Dana, my dear.

She turned the lights off in the apartment and headed for the bedroom, where 
she took off the robe that she was wearing and hung it up on the back of the 
bedroom door.  She left the light on by the nightstand and set her alarm for 
the morning.  It was only 9pm, and she wanted to try to read for a while 
before she fell asleep.

She was just getting comfortable in bed when the phone rang.  She picked up 
the cordless that was by her bed.  "Hello?"

"Hey, Scully, it's me."

"Mulder."

"Who else?" 

She could hear the lighthearted tone, but she knew him well enough to hear 
exhaustion underneath it.  So he was tired, too.  "What's wrong, Mulder?"

There was a pause, as if he was shaking his head in disbelief that she knew 
that he was actually calling for a specific reason, instead of just calling 
to say hello.

"Who said there has to be something wrong?  I'm just calling to offer my 
services to you tomorrow and drive you in to work."

"Since when do I need a car and driver?"

"Since the Weather Channel predicted that there was going to be about ten 
inches of snow tonight.  And I know how you hate to drive in the snow."

Scully sighed, a bit annoyed.  His tone wasn't condescending.  It was just 
that he was right.  And she hated when he was right.

But he was being incredibly sincere - offering to pick her up, even though it 
was out of his way.  

Scully sighed.

"Is that a yes?"

Scully chuckled.  "I'll see you around 7:30, Mulder," she answered.  "You 
bring the car, I'll supply the coffee."

"See you in the morning, Scully."

Scully hung up the phone and picked up her book.  About ten minutes later, 
she found that her eyes were heavy.  Five thirty will be here before you know 
it, she told herself, taking off her glasses and setting the book down, then 
turning off the light.

*****

Sometime in the middle of the night, Scully was awakened by the sound of a 
thump.  A muffled thump, but a thump nonetheless. She rolled over in bed, 
refusing to open her tired eyes.  She waited, listening.  It sounded like it 
came from the apartment across the hall, but she couldn't be sure.  She 
opened her eyes reluctantly and checked the clock.  1:55am.  She sighed.  

She got up from bed and looked out the window.  Sure enough, snow was falling 
heavily.  Mulder will never make it here by 7:30, she thought, unless he 
leaves around 5am.

She crawled back in bed, having heard no more noises, and fell asleep almost 
immediately.

*****

Something else woke her the next time, although she wasn't sure what it was. 
She opened her eyes again, glancing over at the nightstand to look at the 
clock.  2:59am.  

Her eyes were so tired.  Her body ached.  Normally, she never woke up during 
the night.  I *do* need a vacation, she thought idly, then closed her eyes 
again.

She was about to drift back off to sleep when she realized that her gun was 
not on the nightstand where she always left it.

Her eyes flew open.

There was a man standing next to her bed.

She gasped, and tried to sit up in bed, but he was on top of her in an 
instant, pushing her back down.

"Don't move, bitch," he muttered, and Scully could feel the icy cold of a 
knife up against her throat.  She froze.  "Don't move or make sound or I'll 
cut your throat."

His hand reached for the blankets, pulling them off her.

Oh, God.

She knew what was coming.

"I have money...jewelry..." she said quickly, her words coming out in a rush. 
<The amethyst ring that Missy had given her.  Her grandmother's wedding 
ring.>
 
"I said, shut up.  I don't want your fucking money."

He was on top of her now, straddling her hips, pulling at the sweatpants that 
she had worn to bed because it was chilly in the apartment.  

"Please," she murmured, afraid to move too much, for fear that the knife he 
held at her throat would slip and cut her.  "Please, don't do this."

He removed the knife then.  "Listen to me.  I want you to shut up."

Scully stole a glance at him.  Stay calm, she ordered herself.  Look at his 
face.  Memorize it.  

It was dark in the room, but she could see him.  She stared at his features, 
trying to imprint them into her memory.

The sound of his zipper was unbearably loud in the room.  He was yanking at 
her sweatpants again, pulling them down, leaving her legs open to the night 
air.  She felt goosebumps rise on her skin.  

Scully could feel his erection against her thigh.  Oh, God, she prayed.  
Please, God.

He yanked at her underwear, pulling them down with such brutality that she 
cried out.  "Shut up!" he hissed, slapping her.  

"I'm sorry," she stuttered.  She could feel his fingers probing her, and she 
closed her eyes.  He slapped her again, harder this time.  Her cheek stung.  
"Keep your eyes open, bitch."  

<This is not happening.  This is not happening.  Oh, Mulder, where are you?> 

She felt him pushing into her.  "You're not wet at all, are you?" he said in 
her ear.  "That's OK.  I can fuck you just fine like this."

Scully winced at his words, at the feeling of him entering her, hard and 
cold.  It hurt.

He moved inside her.  She gasped, and for a moment, bucked him, trying to 
push him off of her.  "Damn it!" she cried, shoving at him. 

His fist came down on her face once, twice.  He clawed at her, trying to hold 
her still.  "Stop that.  Stop that."

The blows quieted her.  She kept her eyes open.  She watched the shadows from 
the window play across the ceiling.  He was pushing at her, moving in and out 
of her, and she bit down on her lower lip to keep from crying out.  She 
tasted blood, but wasn't sure if it was from him hitting her or from her 
teeth.

Don't fight him, she thought.  Let him do it.  Get it over with.  Then find 
the gun and...

He smacked her again, dragging her back into reality.  "Come on, you bitch!" 
he growled at her.  She looked at his face.  He was breathing heavily and his 
eyes were wild, his hair falling over his forehead.  

Terrified by what she saw in his eyes, she pulled her glance away and back to 
the ceiling.  Silent tears slipped down her face.  She couldn't wipe them 
away.

There was near-silence in the room for a moment.  The only noise was that of 
his body slapping against hers.

Then Scully heard it.  A siren.

He heard it too, and stopped for a moment.  Scully tried to ignore the 
sensation of him still inside her.  

"Fuck."  He pulled out of her harshly, and she let out a whimper.  

He was off the bed in a second, and Scully didn't move.  She listened.  She 
heard him in her living room, then heard him at the living room 
window...which was how he must have gotten in.  She waited for what seemed 
like ages.  She didn't hear anything.  Was he gone?

Carefully, she sat up in bed.  Her body ached tremendously.  She managed to 
stand up and went to the window, and saw him in the street, running, slipping 
in the snow.  An ambulance, the cause of the siren that had scared him off, 
turned the corner near Scully's house.

She managed to find her underwear, bunched up in the blankets, and put them 
back on.  She pulled her sweatpants back on and went into the living room.

The window was open.  

He was gone.

She closed the window.

Realizing her teeth were clattering, she made her way back into the bathroom 
and found her other robe, a thick, plush white one, and put it on, wrapping 
it around her carefully.  She looked in the mirror.  

Her face was bloody and swollen.

She carefully got a washcloth and with trembling hands, moistened it and 
brought it to her face.  She cleaned up the blood as best she could.  Tears 
were still streaming down her face.

Her whole body was shaking.  She went back into the bedroom, leaving the 
light on in the bathroom, and looked around.  Her gun was on the dresser, not 
on the nightstand.  She realized dimly that she had left it there when she 
had gotten home from work.

She turned all the lights on, blindly going from room to room, illuminating 
the entire apartment.

Then she came back into the bedroom and stared at the bed.

She couldn't sit down on it. 

Not after he had raped her in that bed.

Scully ached to get right into the shower.  To scrub that man's smell off of 
her.  To be able to wash herself off.

She knew she couldn't.

Mulder.  She had to call Mulder.

Oh, God.

Scully sat down right there on the floor of the bedroom and began to sob.  
All the tears she had managed to keep at bay for the last few years came out. 
Her body was heaving from it, and she tried uselessly to calm herself down. 

Mulder, she thought.  I have to call Mulder.  He'll help me.

A moment of panic swept through her.  She didn't want him to see her.  Not 
like this.  Not after...

Not after that bastard, that *fucking* bastard, raped me.

She never used language like that. 

She didn't want Mulder to see her like this.

But I need him, she realized desperately.

She made it to her feet again, shakily, and went into the living room.

She found the phone and with trembling fingers dialed the number she knew by 
heart.

It rang twice before Mulder's groggy voice answered.  "Yeah, hello."  Just 
the sound of his voice made tears fill her eyes again.  She struggled to 
fight them as she heard him say hello again.  

"Mulder?" she managed to get out, her voice thick with tears.

"Yeah, Scully, what's wrong?"  His voice was still sleepy.  She hated herself 
for having woken him up.  It was so rare for him to get any sleep anyhow.

"Mulder, can you come over here?"  She could barely get the words out.  

"Scully, what's wrong?"  He sounded more awake.

She paused, swallowing hard.  She couldn't say it over the phone.  She 
couldn't tell him.  "Please, Mulder."  She closed her eyes tightly, forcing 
the tears back.  "Please."

He knew.  Something in her voice told him that she needed him, and she knew 
it.  "I'm on my way," he answered tensely, and she hung up the phone.

She made her way over to the couch, and pulled the blanket over her body.  
She was still shaking.  Still cold.  She felt stickiness between her legs.  
Her face throbbed with pain.

She sat on the couch and waited for Mulder to get there.

He'll be here soon, she told herself.  He's on his way.

Hang on.  Mulder's coming over.  It'll be fine.

*****

The ringing of the phone jarred Mulder from half-sleep to awake.  He got up 
from the couch, the TV still on, and stumbled across the room to the phone.  
"Yeah, hello," he muttered into the receiver as he looked at his watch.  Four 
thirty in the morning, he thought.  Jesus.  No one spoke on the other end of 
the phone, but Mulder could hear rustling noises in the background.  "Hello?" 
he repeated, starting to get annoyed.  He wasn't in the mood for a crank 
call.

"Mulder?"  It was Scully, but she didn't sound like herself.  She sounded 
small and far away.  

"Yeah, Scully, what's wrong?" he asked.  For her to call this late, he 
thought, it must be an emergency.  And why does she sound like that?  He 
started feeling much more awake than he had.  

"Can you come over here?" she asked, her voice still very far away.

Now he could hear the tremors in her voice.  His eyes were wide open and his 
adrenaline began to pump.  "Scully, what's wrong?" he repeated.

"Please, Mulder.  Please." 

She didn't have to say anything more.  It was the way she said it that got 
him.  The urgency in her tone was unmistakable.  "I'm on my way," he replied, 
and hung up the phone.  He threw a warm sweater over the t-shirt he was 
already wearing, pulled his jeans on and put on shoes and a jacket.  A few 
moments later, he was in the car.

On the way to Scully's apartment, his thoughts raced.  Had someone
threatened her life? He pulled up in front of her building and parked the
car.  From outside he could see her apartment.  Every light in the place
was on.  Something was wrong.  He sprinted to the building and inside.

He knocked on her door softly.  It was, after all, very early in the
morning.  No need to disturb anyone else in the building.  He could hear
her approach the door, then a pause, then she unlocked it and opened it.

Mulder stared at her in shock.  She was wearing a white terry bathrobe and
her hair was tousled.  Her entire face looked as if it had been through
ten rounds.  Her lip was swollen and bleeding, and what appeared to be a
black eye was beginning to show.  Her other eye was puffy.  She was
standing funny, Mulder thought.  She wasn t holding herself up with her
usual self-assurance.  There was a long, dark red scratch down the side of
her left cheek, and her eyes were red from crying.   What the hell...  he
started to ask.

She took his arm and pulled him inside, shutting and locking the door
behind him.   Mulder-- 

 Scully, what the hell happened to you?  he asked.   Who did this?   His
rage was building swiftly.  He felt it getting stronger but hid it from
her because of the fact that he didn t want to upset her.  She stood in
front of him, silent for a moment.  She closed her eyes briefly and shook
her head slightly, almost unnoticeably, except he knew her and he knew it
meant she was trying to keep from crying.   Scully, what happened?  he
repeated.

She opened her eyes again, looked at him hard and he knew almost before
she started to speak.   Someone broke in.  I was sleeping.   Her words
were coming out stiffly, almost mechanically.   Mulder, he raped me.  I
need you to take me to the hospital. 

Mulder felt his heart pumping faster and he instantly took her arm.  He
wanted to pull her to him, to hold her.  But as he took hold of her arm,
she stiffened.  He let go.  Oh, God, Scully, he thought, no, not you.  Not
this.   Are you alright?  he asked, and she nodded, but didn t speak.  
Did you shower?   She shook her head.   OK, let s get you to the hospital.
 Do you want to get dressed? 

She nodded again.   I m dressed,  she told him.  She untied the robe to
reveal a pair of sweats and a t-shirt underneath.   This is what I was
wearing...I guess I should leave it on. 

He nodded.  He was feeling sick.  Just looking at her face, knowing that
someone had hurt her like that, and then to know that they had raped her
as well, infuriated him.  He wouldn t let himself imagine her sleeping,
while someone came in, held her down....

No, he told himself, don t imagine it.  Don t even let yourself think it.

He helped her get her shoes and coat on in silence, and followed her to
the front door.  Her muteness, her stiff actions, the fact that her eyes
seemed almost glazed over, were worrying him more and more by the minute. 
She seemed to be fading away from him emotionally.   

 You OK, Scully?  he asked, and then wanted to kick himself for being so
insensitive.  Of course she wasn t OK.  But she nodded and let him lock
the door behind them.  He helped her into the car and then shut the door
for her.  As he went around the car to get in on his side, he felt his
rage building again.  Whoever did this, he was thinking, that bastard, I
ll kill him.

He calmed his thoughts before he got into the car.  She needs me to be
strong, he thought.  Scully was staring straight ahead through the
windshield and continued to stare after he started the car and pulled
away.  The drove in silence for a few minutes.  Finally, Mulder cleared
his throat.  He had to ask her one thing.  Scully, did he have a weapon? 

She didn t even look at him.   A knife,  she answered, and the flat, dead
tone in her voice shut him up for the rest of the drive.  He pulled up in
front of the emergency room and helped her out of the car.  Her teeth
immediately began to chatter, and she was shivering.  She swayed a bit,
and he put an arm around her.  

 Is this OK?  he asked softly, not wanting to touch her if she didn t want
him to, and she looked at him, her eyes filling with new tears, and
nodded.  It made his throat tighten and he swallowed hard.  He tightened
his hold on her so that it felt supportive.   Come on, let s get you
inside.  It s cold out here. 

Mulder steered Scully to the first person they saw, who, luckily, was a
female resident whose name tag identified her as Dr. Joanne Wilson. 
Mulder pulled out his badge and spoke in low tones.   I m Agent Fox Mulder
with the FBI and this is my partner, Dana Scully.  Someone broke into her
apartment and raped her. 

The resident led them back to a private exam room and called for a nurse
to help Scully.   Agent Mulder?  Dr. Wilson motioned for him to leave the
room with her.   Let s step outside so Dana can get changed. 

Mulder looked at Scully for the OK.  For the first time since he had
arrived at her apartment, he could see the fear in her eyes.  Dana Scully
was not a woman afraid of much.  The realization of what had happened to
her was hitting him with a punch.   I ll be right back,  he promised.

He and Dr. Wilson went to the nurses station.   I ve had our charge nurse
call the police.  They ll have to come down and take her statement.  I m
assuming she wants to report this? 

 You ll have to ask her,  Mulder responded.  He glanced at his watch and
noticed that it was only 40 minutes after Scully had called him.  He felt
like it was at least six hours ago.  

 Well, we ll examine her, and go through the rape kit.  If she wants
someone from the Rape Crisis Center, we can have them come down to talk to
her.  Then she can talk to the police, if that s what she wants.   Dr.
Wilson looked at him pointedly.   She called you after the rape?   Her
tone was a bit condescending.

 We re partners,  he said, realizing instantly what she was thinking   And
we re best friends. 

 The police will want to talk to you then, as well,  she said, and Mulder
nodded.

He went back to the exam room and knocked.  The nurse inside told him to
come in.  Scully had changed into a hospital gown, and he could see the
two bags that were holding her clothes as evidence.  The nurse was taking
her blood pressure, marked it down on a sheet, and checked the gash on her
cheek.   Dr. Wilson will be back in a few minutes to examine you,  she
said, and left them alone.

Mulder stood close to the gurney where Scully was lying, covered with a
blanket.  Her eyes were still red and puffy.  She must have been crying
again.  God, he thought, please, let her be OK.  

 I m OK, you know,  Scully said to him, as if reading his mind.  But her
voice was trembling.  He knew she was lying, and he knew why.  She was
scared to be vulnerable in front of him, even though she knew that she
could be.  She was scared because she had been violated, and he could see
from her face that she wanted to say more to him, but couldn t.

 Scully, it s OK,  he said to her, taking her hand gently in his.   You
don t have to put up such a brave front. 

It was as if he was giving her the okay to talk to him, to open up.  At
his words, her face twisted a bit and she started to cry.   He raped me, 
she mumbled through her tears.   Do you know what he did to me?  

Mulder could imagine.  He wanted her to tell him exactly what had
happened, every detail, to let it out, but he was afraid, too.  He didn t
want to hear what she was going to say.  It would draw a picture in his
mind, a vivid picture that would haunt him forever.  Just like her face
would from when she opened the door to him just under an hour ago.  

Scully started to cry harder.   Oh, Mulder,  she sobbed, and he reached
onto the gurney and held her.  She clung to him like a lost child as he
stroked her hair and let her cry.  He closed his eyes.  He hadn t been
able to protect her, and it killed him inside.  



It had been two days since the rape, and Mulder hadn t left Scully alone
for a minute.

He stayed at her apartment with her.  Took a medical leave of absence,
just as she did.  Slept on her couch.  Shopped for groceries.  Didn t turn
off all the lights in the apartment, especially not at night.  He even
learned how to cook.  Well, if boiling water for pasta counted.

He slept on the couch.  Scully slept in her room, with the door open, with
the lights on.  She insisted on leaving every light on in the apartment,
and Mulder didn t argue with her.  Neither one of them got a lot of sleep.
 Scully would stay awake crying, and Mulder would try to comfort her to no
avail.  Since the hug in the emergency room, Scully wouldn t let him touch
her.

Scully still hadn t told him the details.  She had talked to the police,
the doctor, the nurse and the rape crisis volunteer.  But not to him.  He
wasn t sure anymore if he even wanted to know.  He was scared, selfishly. 
It might be too hard for both of me, he thought.

It was the third night.  Mulder was flipping channels on Scully s TV in
the living room.  The volume was down low, but it was loud enough that it
muffled the sounds he thought he was hearing. He muted the TV and
listened.  Yes, there they were again.  The sounds of Scully having
another nightmare.  Mulder got up from the couch and headed into the
bedroom.  He found her thrashing on the bed, her eyes closed, her face
twisted in a strange contortion of pain and terror.  She was making the
sounds that Mulder had gotten used to--the wordless sobbing that made his
chest ache and his throat tighten.

He usually went right to her, sitting beside her, not touching her at all.
 Waiting for her to come out of it and wake up, drenched in sweat, hoping
that his presence beside her would somehow calm her.  Praying that it
would slow down the breathing, her terrified gasps for air, the blue eyes
that darted around the room, looking for the face of an attacker that was
not there.  

This time Mulder stood and watched her from the doorway of the bedroom. 
She was his partner, no, more than that.  She was his best friend in the
world, the one who had kept him sane through all of the insanity, the one
who had believed in him when no one else did, the one who could look at
him and somehow communicate silently with him, when verban was impossible.
 It did more than hurt him to see her like this.  It was ripping him apart
inside.  She wouldn t let him comfort her, wouldn t let him hold her even
though he sensed that she ached for it.  

Finally he crossed the room to her bed and sat down, took her by both
shoulders, gently shaking her.  He knew that she didn t want physical
contact, but he didn t want her to be stuck, trapped in the nightmare
anymore.  He knew all about nightmares, how it felt to be in one, to know
it was just a dream, and yet be unable to pull yourself back awake.  She
struggled in his grasp, but didn t wake up.  Mulder pulled her into a
sitting position.

 Scully,  he said to her quietly,  come on, wake up.  It s just a dream,
Scully. 

Her struggling turned to frantic flailing.  Her hands flew up to protect
herself instinctively.  Her wordless cries became sentences.   Don t touch
me!  she cried, and opened her eyes.  Mulder could hear the pure fear in
her voice.  Even though she opened her eyes, looked right at him, she didn
t stop struggling.  She started hitting him, throwing punches in the air,
at his face, his chest.  

 Scully, it s me!  he cried out, trying to dodge the blows as best he
could.   Scully! 

She kept hitting him, crying, until finally, quickly, she had no strength
left.  Her arms fell, and her gasps became large, hacking sobs.  Mulder
pulled her to him without thinking.  He could feel her heart pounding in
her chest, pressed against his.  He could feel her tears through his
shirt, and could feel that his own face was wet with tears as well.  God,
he thought, why her?  Why did this happen to her?

 Mulder,  she said, pulling loose from him and fixing him with a strong
stare,  I tried to stop him.  I really tried!   He nodded.  He knew.  She
wasn t a weakling.  Scully had always been able to defend herself.  But
she was sleeping, awakened from a deep sleep to find a man leaning over
her, holding her down....how could she have possibly defended herself? 
There was no way.  No matter what she had done.  He knew that.  But it was
obvious that she felt as if she should have somehow been able to stop him.
  I tried to make him stop, Mulder.  But he had a knife, Mulder.  He held
it right here.   She moved her hand to her throat to show him.  Her tears
were still falling, but she was able to talk.   He pulled my sweats off
me. 

Mulder wanted to stop her.  He didn t want to know this part.  He didn t
think he could stand to hear it without going ballistic.  But he knew she
had to get it out of her system, to talk about it.  The counselor from the
rape crisis center said that eventually she would want to talk.  Mulder
should give her time.  Not pressure her.  Be patient with her.  Be willing
to listen to anything she wanted to say.   Then what?   Mulder tried to
keep his voice as even as possible.  He didn t want her to hear the tears
in his voice, or the anger, or the fear.

Scully looked at him.   I hadn t...I mean, I haven t...had sex with anyone
in a while.   It was obviously a painful admission from her, and in a way
it was somewhat of a relief to him.  He knew that Scully wasn t the type
to sleep around.  He had hoped that she would wait to meet the right
person.  He had harbored in the back of his mind a belief that someday, if
he ever got his act together, that he would be the right person for her. 
But those thoughts were long forgotten now.   He was hard.  I could feel
his erection.   Her breathing was getting more labored now, and her eyes
were darting around the room again.  

 Scully, you re safe,  he reminded her.  It sounded stupid to him.  Damn
it, why can t I say the right thing and make her feel safe?

 He just pushed his way into me.  I was dry...it hurt.   She sounded like
a little girl describing skinned knees after a fall on pavement.  She
looked at Mulder and her eyes focused on his face.   Mulder, he was inside
me. 

 I know, Scully. 

 He raped me,  she said in somewhat of a monotone.   For about 20 minutes.
 He couldn t come.  He was angry at me for that.  Like it was my fault. 

No, Scully, none of this was your fault.  None of it, Mulder thought, pain
stabbing at him.

 He hit me.  Punched me in the face.  Twisted my nipples, hit me again and
again...Mulder, why?   She was awash in tears again.   Why, Mulder? 

He was crying again as well.   I don t know, Dana,  he said, and she
collapsed against his chest again, sobbing.  He held her.  It was almost a
relief to know that she was letting him hold her, letting him comfort her.
 

Dana, he thought, I called her Dana.  When was the last time I called her
that?  It was his way of reminding her that she was a real person to him,
a person with feelings and emotions instead of just his partner.  He held
her tighter.   I m not going to let anyone hurt you,  he said against her
hair, meaning it.  If it meant never letting her out of his sight again,
he would never again let anyone touch her.  Never.

It was partially his fault anyhow.  They had been going over some
paperwork until late.  She had offered to take him out for a late dinner,
and he had turned her down.  She had seemed anxious, somehow apprehensive
about going home alone.  Ever since her sister had been killed she
occasionally had moments like that.  And he usually saw them.  Usually
took her up on an offer of food at some 24 hour diner.  Or followed her
home without telling her.  He would sit in his parked car across the
street, watching her walk from her car to the front door, taking a small
satisfaction that she didn t know what he was doing.  It was one less
thing for her to tease him about.  He would watch until she had gotten
safely inside her house and turned the lights on, then he would head for
home.

But not that night.  Mulder had a headache that night, and was distracted
by thoughts of going home, taking some Tylenol and watching a premier
movie on the Playboy channel.  So he left her to go home alone, and then
he fell asleep, and then she fell asleep, and then some asshole broke into
her apartment and raped her and beat her up.  And if only he had done
something differently that night, paid more attention to her thinly veiled
anxiety, damn it, if only he hadn t been so stupid and selfish, maybe,
just maybe, this wouldn t have happened to her.

Fuck, he thought, if I hadn t been so caught up in that damn movie, my own
obsession with sex and lust and all of it, I would have been there.  I
would have been able to protect her.  

Mulder had always felt a lingering attraction to Scully.  After all, he
was a red blooded American male and was not completely blind, although he
knew he didn t always notice the opportunities he had to say something to
her about it.  But there were times, certain times, when he had caught
himself staring at her when she didn t know it.  He sometimes would make
comments to her, comments that were a little more than suggestive.  There
were times when he got closer to her than he should have.  There were
other times when he had fantasized about her, what kissing her lips would
feel like, what making love to her would feel like.  And now he hated
himself for ever having had those thoughts.  They made him feel sick and
dirty.

He couldn t help it, though.  She was everything he had ever wanted in a
woman and more.  God, she was beautiful.  And brilliant.  She always had a
quick comeback line for every one of his crazy ideas or comments. She was
beautiful.  That fiery red hair...God, it made him aroused now, just
thinking of all the times he had looked at her and realized with a shock
how exquisitely perfect she looked.  He cursed himself inwardly for his
shitty timing.

Scully s tears were slowing.   I m so tired,  she whispered.

 Come on, why don t you lie down,  Mulder said to her, banishing his
thoughts away and helping her to curl back up into her blankets.  He stood
up to go back to the couch.  

 Mulder, wait,  she called to him when he was at the doorway.   Mulder? 

 Yeah? 

 Could you...stay in here?   Her request was timid.   I keep thinking he s
here...and I m scared. 

How many times have I wanted her to ask me that? he thought, and then
winced.  How could he have those thoughts, now, of all times?  He felt
dirty again, as if he was raping her mentally.  Thank God she doesn t know
what I m thinking, he thought.

 Sure, Scully.  Let me go get the blankets. 

He went back into the living room and carried a blanket and a pillow back
into the bedroom, setting up a makeshift bed on the floor.   Mulder? 

 Yeah? 

 Do you think...could you sleep up here?  With me? 

He took a deep breath.  What should he say?  No, Scully, I really don t
think that s a good idea because I m feeling kind of horny right now?  He
hated himself for even thinking it.   Whatever you want,  he answered
instead, and moved his bedding up the other side of her bed.

 I think....I think I ll turn the light off,  she said.   I feel safe,
knowing you re here.  

You d throw me out, Scully, if you knew what I was thinking, he thought,
and closed his eyes.  Why can t I help her?  Why can t I just be here for
her?  She needs me, and not like this.  She needs my support.  

 Thanks, Mulder,  she said, her voice sleepy.

 Good night, Dana,  he answered.



As the morning sun shone brightly in through the window, Mulder opened his
eyes.  Scully lay next to him, on her side, her body curled so that if she
opened her eyes he would be the first thing she would see.  Her eyes were
closed now, though, and her face peaceful.  Mulder breathed a sigh of
relief.  Finally, she had slept.  Maybe having been able to talk to him,
at least a little, the previous night, had helped her.

Amazing what a good night of sleep can do, he marveled as he carefully
extracted himself from the blankets and moved into the living room, trying
not to make any noise and awaken Scully.  He gazed at her from the doorway
of her room for a few moments, then quietly shut the door.  He went into
the living room and sat down on the couch, running his hand through his
hair.  He was grateful for the sleep.  It helped him put his thoughts back
in order.

He was trying to find a way to stop thinking of Scully as a woman for the
time being.  Well, not that he didn t want to think of her as a woman, but
just that he didn t want to think about his hidden desires for her.  Not
now.  He knrape was generally a crime that only women dealt with, but he
was slowly realizing the effects that it had on the men in the victim s
life.   He wanted, needed to be there for her, as her partner, as her
friend.  She had a lot of healing to do, and he wanted to do anything he
could to help her.  

But what was it that had stirred his feelings of desire for her?  He knew
he couldn t let it rest until he understood.  He had known Scully for
years now, and in that time, they had grown closer than partners, closer
than friends.  They were almost like husband and wife, except for the sex.
 He knew her family, what was left of it.  He had always felt close to her
mother.  He knew that when Margaret Scully invited him over for the
holidays, that it was not just because she felt she had to invite her
daughter s partner.  It was because in a way, she felt as if he were her
own son.  And he felt the warmth of a mother s love, even though they went
for months at a time without seeing each other or speaking.

Margaret Scully trusted Mulder with her daughter.  It was a big issue,
trust.  Scully had trusted Mulder more than anyone else in her life, and
Mulder knew that.  He would never do anything to breach that trust.  He
trusted her above anyone else as well.  He had never dreamed of trusting
someone so much, putting so many of his feelings out in the open.

And when Scully had been missing, and when she turned up in the hospital
that night on life support, Mulder had felt like his whole world was
crashing down around him.  The desolation he felt filled him.  Melissa had
known it.  It wasn t just because his partner was dying.  They had gone
beyond that.  It was his best friend.  When he got the call that she had
awoken from her coma, he cried.  The tears had been hard, as if he was
forcing himself to finally release his feelings for her.

Somehow along the line, Mulder had fallen in love with her.  It was
finally dawning on him now.  As he had come to her door to find her
beaten, watching her in the emergency room, or watching her in her
nightmares, he was realizing that the feelings he felt for her had been
romantic for some time.  He just hadn t let himself feel them.

Well, good timing, he thought angrily.  Wait until she gets raped to
figure all of this out.

He knew that there was no way that he could talk to her about all of this.
 Besides, when a person is in love, it helps to have the other person feel
the same way.  Mulder had no idea how Scully felt about him.  Well, that
wasn t true.  He did know.  In the way that they knew each other, he could
see the love she felt for him when he was in a dangerous situation.  When
she teased him about his  paranoid  behavior.  When she fixed him with one
of her stares.  

If he had any doubts that she loved him, they were all erased after the
incident with Modell.   After that, he knew that her feelings for him were
more than friendly.  More than just partners.  He had seen the love in her
eyes, heard it in her voice.

OK, Mulder, he told himself as he went into the kitchen to start the
coffee, you ve got to put this all back away where it was, because now is
not the time to be feeling all this.  He spooned coffee into the filter
and poured the water in.  Somehow, he had managed to keep his feelings
hidden, even from himself.  They had been easy enough to hide, he thought,
and now they were just going to have to go back to being hidden.

The coffee began to brew, and Mulder went back to the bedroom, opening the
door softly, walking over to the bed and sitting down where he had been
sleeping to watch Scully.  Her auburn hair was fanned out on the pillow. 
The bruising around her eye was entering its final stages and was greenish
purple.  The gash on her face had scabbed, and her lip was still red where
it had been cracked open.  

And she s still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, he thought,
absentmindedly brushing a strand of her hair off her forehead.  I love
you, Dana Katherine Scully, he thought, and the words, even in thought,
sounded strange to him.  He leaned down to kiss her forehead lightly.  Her
skin was warm.

When he lifted his head, Scully stirred.  Her eyes fluttered open.  
Mulder? 

 Good morning,  he replied.

 I smell coffee,  she said, sitting up.  Her hair was tousled from a long
deep sleep.

 How are you feeling? 

 Better, if you can believe it,  she said, and from the tone of her voice,
he did believe it.
 Mulder, I was thinking...   But the jangling of the phone interrupted
her.  She answered the one that was on her bedside table.   Hello?  
Mulder watched her face, listened to her responses getting colder and more
unaffected.    Yes, I understand.  Yes, I will. 

She hung up the phone and stared at him.  The frozen look that had
disappeared when she woke up was back.   Scully, what is it? 

 The police caught him.  They want me to come down to the station to
identify him. 

 Do you want me to come with you?  he asked.  She nodded.

 I also have to go to the doctor today.  Follow up,  she said, and he
nodded at her.   Maybe we could do that after we go to the police station?


Mulder nodded.   Whatever you want, Scully. 


*****


As they entered the police station, Mulder was struck by the fact that for
once, they were there and not in an official capacity.  The lineup, which
they were so used to seeing, would be almost like a new experience for
them because they were not there to investigate in any manner.

A detective named Darrow met them at the desk and led them into the
identification room, explaining the procedure on the way.   He was a big
burly Irishman and explained everything to Scully carefully, calmly, and
in a way that was meant to make her feel safe.  Mulder was grateful for
that.   Now, Miss Scully, I want you to be very sure when you look at
these men,  Darrow told her.  Try and remember exactly what he looked
like.  I know it was dark, and I know you were scared, but try to
remember. 

Mulder looked at her face and knew from her expression that she remembered
perfectly.  He sat down next to her behind the two way mirror and took her
hand for support as the men were led in on the other side of the mirror.

Five men walked in and stood, staring insolently at them.  Scully s eyes
went methodically from one to the next, carefully, one at a time, not
jumping ahead.  On the fourth man, her eyes froze.  She tensed in her
chair.  Mulder squeezed her hand gently.   Number 4.  That s him,  she
said, her voice breaking slightly.  Detective Darrow came around to stand
next to her.

 You re sure? 

Scully closed her eyes briefly, letting the memories in for only a moment.
 He was on top of her, looking down at her, his face a mix of anger and
revulsion.  She could feel him inside her, fucking her, shoving at her,
slapping her whenever she cried out or closed her eyes.  His eyes were
dark and he was about five eleven, she had guessed, and had his dark brown
hair parted off to one side.  One good thing about being an FBI agent, she
had tried to distract herself by thinking, was that she had an uncanny
knack for identifying someone.  Come on, bitch, come on!   His voice
echoed in her head.  She could feel him slapping against her body, not in
a loving way, as sex should be, but in a violent and horrible way.

Involuntarily, a shudder passed through Scully s body.  She opened her
eyes.  #4 was six feet by measure on the wall behind him, and his hair was
parted to the side, just as she remembered.  His eyes.  She looked at the
man in the lineup, knowing he had no way of knowing it was her behind the
mirror.  And yet he seemed to be looking right at her.   That s him,  she
said again, her voice a little stronger now.  She looked at Mulder.   That
s him. 

Mulder stood up and walked to the mirror, looking at #4 with a cold stare.
 He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn t hear what Darrow was
saying to Scully.  He just wanted to go into the room and smash his face
in.  Wanted to punch him until he was bloody.  Wanted to kick him over and
over, wanted to kill him.  Scully s presence behind him startled him.   I
want to leave,  she said, touching his arm.  

Mulder turned around and faced her, all of his murderous thoughts gone
without a trace.  Let s go,  he said, his face calm, giving her no clue
what he had been thinking.

They walked out of the room and her steps were slower than his.  She
walked close to him, and eventually once they were outside he put his arm
around her as they walked.  Without saying anything, Scully leaned her
body into his gratefully.
She was exhausted.  Just get to the doctor, she thought.  And then I can
go home.  Then I can rest.



Scully watched absentmindedly as the raindrops beaded on Mulder s
windshield as they headed for the doctor s office.  Ever since they had
left the police station, she had fallen into a strange trance, where she
saw and heard nothing except her own thoughts.  She was only dimly aware
of Mulder s presence in the car next to her.  Her mind was still stuck on
the image of his face, glaring back at her through the 2-way mirror,
leaning over her as he hit her, held her down onto the bed, raped her.  It
was like she was not a participant anymore, but a witness.  She could
clearly see everything that was happening to her from a different angle. 
And this angle was so different that it almost seemed surreal, more
frightening, she thought.  Without realizing it, she shivered.

 Are you cold?  Mulder asked her, shaking her from her thoughts.  She
looked at him, realizing from his question that he was there with her in
the car, that she was not alone, that she was safe.

 A little,  she said, trying to sound as normal as possible.  Who am I
kidding, she thought.  I haven t sounded normal since this all ound the
same.

Mulder turned the heat up and they drove the rest of the way in silence. 
It struck Scully how much time they had spent in silence since her rape. 
And as she looked over at Mulder, she wondered for the first time what he
thought about during those silences.  He probably thinks I m so fucked up,
she thought.  He thinks I m fragile.  He s afraid to talk to me, to touch
me.  She knew a little about his fears, because in a way, they were her
own.  She was just as scared for him to touch her as he was.

At the same time, she knew that he was having some realizations of his
feelings for her.  She had rolled over the night before and reached out
for him in bed, and although it was not something she was used to, she had
felt at ease almost immediately.  But she wasn t stupid.  She had felt
him, hard against her leg.  And she had felt him shift his body quickly
after that so she wouldn t feel it.   In a way, it made her sick.  How
could he think thoughts that were arousing while she was dealing with what
she was dealing with?  But at the same time she was kind of flattered,
that he would be aroused by her, damaged as she was.

It was strange, because she had known in her heart that she had been in
love with him for some time now.  It was something she swore never to
admit to herself consciously, and definitely not to him.  There was no
room for a romance between them in their lives.  The X-Files took up too
much space, too much time and too much energy for them to have anything
other than the comfortable relationship, the friendship that they already
had.  It didn t mean she didn t think about it sometimes.  But she trusted
Mulder so much as a friend that she couldn t stand to think of him as
anything else, especially not now, not after the rape.  Although, she
thought idly, it would be so nice, to have him hold me like that all the
time.  She knew it was just because of the trauma she was experiencing. 
She knew, had known for a long time, that she was in love with him.  And
she was grateful, grateful for his love, even if he couldn t express it to
her the way it was that he really felt.  This was enough for her for now.

She looked at him as he drove.  She had no idea what he was thinking.  His
face was completely unreadable.

She had no way of knowing the thoughts of murderous revenge that was
coursing through him so strongly that his grip on the steering wheel had
become tighter, his jaw had been set and his eyes locked on the road.

****

Once inside the examining room, Scully was grateful for the cotton gown
instead of those flimsy paper things.  She changed quickly and sat on the
table, looking around the small room. Even before all this had happened,
she had never liked going to the doctor.  Probably because she always
wanted to second guess the medical opinion that was given to her.  

Dr. Wilson came into the room.   Hi, Dana,  she greeted her patient
warmly.  Scully nodded her hellos.  The doctor was carrying her medical
file, and it was almost 2 inches thick.  Stuffed with police documents, no
doubt, medical exam forms, all things that could be used later in court. 
Scully suddenly recalled all the things they told her about at the
emergency room a few days before, and the fear and anxiety that she had
temporarily put aside was back in an instant.  Sexually transmitted
diseases, pregnancy....she felt goosebumps rise on her skin.   How are you
feeling? 

Scully swallowed hard, her voice feeling choked.  She had stuffed those
thoughts away because they were too terrifying, and now they were back,
threatening to paralyze her.   I m OK. 

The doctor did a quick examination of her bruises and lacerations.   You
seem to be healing up well physically.  How are you doing emotionally? 

Scully looked at her, almost surprised that she would ask such a question.
 How do you think I m doing? she wanted to ask.   Terrible,  she said
instead.   Nightmares, panic attacks...I can t stop remembering. 

 The police called me today and asked for your records to be sent over
because they arrested a suspect.   Scully nodded.   It s standard for them
to get medical tests done on him as well.  We re going to need semen
samples, blood typing...we re going to also test him for the same sexually
transmitted diseases we tested you for.   The doctor flipped through
Scully s chart.   And I need to ask you again if you would like to take
the morning after pill.  I know you refused it before, but it s not too
late to take it now. 

 Are you going to take a pregnancy test now?  Scully asked.  

 Yes, if you want me to.  Dr. Wilson answered.  Scully nodded mutely, her
fears starting to get the better of her.  A million things were racing
through her mind at top speed.  All she could imagine was that not only
was her reputation ruined, but now she might be pregnant with that bastard
s baby.  And be carrying the HIV virus, and God knows what else.  Her head
was starting to swim, and she looked down at the floor, putting her hands
over her eyes.

***

Mulder looked up from his magazine to hear the nurse calling him.   Mr.
Mulder?  she asked.  He nodded.   Miss Scully would like you to come in...
could you please come with me? 

Mulder dropped the magazine and followed her quickly.  In the exam room,
Scully was sitting on the table, wearing a thin white cotton gown.  Her
upper arms were covered with bruises, faded to ugly purple and green marks
from where she must have been held down.  He hadn t seen those.  She had
worn long sleeves ever since she had come home.  Now he knew why.  Her
head was in her hands, and she was crying.  Mulder hurried to her side and
put an arm around her protectively.   What s going on?  he asked in a low
voice to Dr. Wilson, who was still standing there, looking helpless.  The
doctor shrugged her shoulders.   Scully, what s wrong?  he asked her,
trying to keep his voice soothing.

Scully looked up at him, her face awash with tears.   Mulder, I could be
pregnant!  she cried.  Mulder s shoulders fell.  

 Dana, I will run a pregnancy test.  I think it s also wise for you to
take the morning after pill, like I said before, since you didn t take it
in the emergency room,  the doctor said.  

 Why didn t you take the pill in the ER?  Mulder asked her, but Scully
shook her head.

 I want to go,  she sobbed softly,  I want to go home. 

He helped her stand.   Dana, please, stay until we can draw some blood, 
Dr. Wilson begged her.  Scully sniffled and nodded.  

 Fine, then do it,  she said,  and then I m leaving. 

The nurse came to her and wrapped a tourniquet around her upper arm. 
Mulder saw Scully wince at the pain, and turned his head away when the
needle went in.

 We ll run this for pregnancy and HIV,  the doctor explained.  She
scribbled something on a pad, then ripped off the top three sheets and
handed them to Scully.   This is for AZT.  It s simply a preventative
measure.  We give it hospital employees when they ve been stuck by a
needle.  The other one is for the morning after pill.  And this one,  she
said, indicating the final sheet of paper,  is for a sedative. 

Scully took the prescriptions silently.

 I know you think I don t care, Dana,  the doctor said,  but I do.  I can
t know exactly what you re going through, but I know that you re having a
rough time.  You ve had a really long day.  Try to go home and get some
rest. 

The doctor and the nurse left the room, leaving Mulder and Scully alone. 
She had stopped crying by now.  

 I just want to go home,  she said again, not looking up at him.

 I ll wait outside while you get dressed,  he said, and touched her
shoulder gently.  She flinched.  Shit, he thought, we re not back to this,
are we?  But he tried to smile at her anyhow, in case she looked up, which
she didn t.  He left the room and stood in the hall.  Leaning his back up
against the wall, he closed his eyes.

Scully hadn t told her family what had happened.  She had called her
mother, but told her that she was sick and wasn t up for company.  She had
told Skinner that she had the flu and was dehydrated.  Sooner or later,
she would have to go back to work.  And she would have to face her family.
 And she would have to face her feelings.  Somehow, she had to pull
together to do all of that if she wanted to keep this a secret from
everyone.

But why? he wondered.  He knew her mother would be nothing but supportive.
 He knew that Skinner would not tell anyone, that the other Bureau agents
would not know anything unless she wanted them to.  She was being
stubborn, and he hated it.  He was starting to feel like he wasn t doing
enough for her, and in a way, he wanted someone to help him carry the
burden of what had happened to her.  It didn t lessen the amount that he
cared about her.

Scully came out a few minutes later.  They went to the car.  It was now
raining heavily, but Mulder deliberately walked slowly so that Scully
could keep up with him.  They stopped at a pharmacy and Mulder turned off
the car.   Why don t you let me run in and fill those for you,  he said to
her. 

 I can do it myself,  she said, and got out of the car without saying
anything else.  He watched her walk into the pharmacy and then punched the
steering wheel angrily.   Damn it,  he said aloud.  What happened to make
her put up her guard again?  

A few minutes later she returned and got into the car, a small paper bag
in her hand.  Mulder looked at her but didn t start the car.   Did you get
them all filled?  he asked.

 Let s go, Mulder,  she said,  I m freezing. 

 Scully, did you fill all three prescriptions? 

She looked at him.   Why? 

 Because I want to know,  he said.

 No,  she replied, looking out the window.

 Scully,  he said to her, but she cut him off.

 The pharmacist would have stared at me,  she said, still not looking at
him.   He would have thought I have AIDS. 

 He doesn t think anything,  Mulder answered.

 If I had filled all of them, he would have known for sure that I had been
raped. 

 Who cares what he thinks?  Mulder raised his voice, and Scully whipped
around in her seat to look at him, her eyes blazing.

 I care, Mulder,  she shouted at him.   I care! 

 Why won t you take the morning after pill?  he asked her angrily.   Why
won t you take a sedative? 

 I don t need a sedative!  she yelled back.  He didn t think he had ever
seen her so angry.

 What about the morning after pill?  Why won t you take it, Scully? 
 Because, Mulder, I just won t. 

 Tell me why,  he pushed her.

 I don t need it.  I m on birth control,  she snapped at him, and looked
down at her lap.

 Why?  he asked.   I thought you weren t sleeping with anyone--   He
stopped himself.

 OK, Mulder, are you happy now?  she asked, her voice low and hurt.   I
was taking birth control because I was thinking that just in case...and
then I stopped taking it.  We were on assignments.  I forgot a bunch of
days. 

Mulder felt like kicking himself.  So there s a chance that you could be
pregnant.  Why don t you want to take the morning after pill?  he asked
again, this time with a calm voice.

 I don t know,  she answered, her voice unsteady.   I know I couldn t face
being pregnant, but I don t know why I don t want to take it. 

He put his hand on her leg, then drew it away when she looked up at him. 
It frustrated him.  He felt like there was only so much concern he could
show with his words.  He wanted to be able to touch her, and he wanted to
tell her why.  I m sorry,  he said,  I was just trying to show you, you
know, tell you....   He stopped, unsure of his words,  that I care about
you.  I was trying to comfort you. 

 I know,  she said, looking up at him, her eyes filled with tears.   I
just don t know what I m doing, Mulder.  I don t know anything right now. 

His anger for her rapist came to the surface again when he saw her tears. 
It s his fault, he thought.  He pushed down the white hot feeling in his
throat and put one hand up to gently stroke her face.   I m sorry I yelled
at you,  he whispered.   I m so sorry, Dana. 


Back at Scully s apartment, Mulder went to the bathroom and shut the door
behind him.  He looked in the mirror.  He felt like he had aged a year in
the last few days.  There was so much to think about, so much to absorb. 
Scully s rapist was in jail.  She was trying to deal with the aftermath. 
He was in love with her.

God, damn, he thought, why now?  Why not a year ago?  Why did these
feelings have to surface now?

He now knew that she was taking birth control because she was taking no
chances, in case they had gotten involved.  How long has she been taking
them? he thought.  He still couldn t understand her refusal to take the
morning after pill.  He knew that birth control pills were only 97%
effective, probably less in her case, since she had forgotten to take
some.  But why not take the morning after pill and eradicate all chances
of becoming pregnant?  He supposed that it had something to do with her
Catholic upbringing.  Some things, he thought, were so deeply implanted
into your head that they stay there forever.  And that would explain why
she didn t want to take it.  But then why the birth control?  

OK, he told himself, don t be so self-centered.  From what she said, she
could have been taking the birth control pills  just in case  she slept
with someone else.  That didn t mean just him.

He opened the medicine cabinet without thinking and looked inside.  He saw
the case of birth control pills.  A few were missing.  There were the
standard medicine cabinet items--cotton balls, Tylenol, a thermometer.  He
glanced, interested, at the apricot facial mask.  He wondered if that was
the source of the sweet smell of her skin.

He closed the medicine cabinet and looked down at the counter.  Scully s
toothbrush, and his own.  Toothpaste.  A bar of soap.  A bottle of
perfume.  He picked that up and smelled it.  Closing his eyes, he could
smell her, wearing the perfume.  The bottle was almost empty.  He quickly
memorized the name of it, reminding himself to buy her another bottle.  He
looked in the mirror again, rubbed his eyes.

In the bedroom, Scully had changed her clothes into something more
comfortable.  She sat down on the edge of her bed and pulled her feet up
under her.  In her apartment, around her, were all the things that were
hers.  All of these things had been things she had worked for her whole
life.  Nothing had been given to her.  She had always had to work for
everything she had wanted.  And it had all been worth it.

She knew that once she got better, once she could figure out how to live
again, that she would have to deal with the issue of Mulder.  She knew
that he now knew things she had never intended for him to find out.  She
was furious with herself that she told him about the birth control pills. 
It made her look like she was just sitting around, waiting for him to
realize that he loved her, waiting for him to take her to be and then she
would be already prepared.  She wanted to make sure that he never would
find out that she had been taking the pills for almost a year.  She was
even more furious with herself now for having forgotten to take pill after
pill.  It wasn t like her to forget such things.

Scully knew now that Mulder loved her.  He really did love her.  But what
on earth reason would he have for loving me now? she thought. Her mind was
racing.  I was raped.  I could have a disease, I could have AIDS, I could
be pregnant.  My reputation at the Bureau will be destroyed.  Everyone
will know that I couldn t defend myself.  What kind of FBI agent am I if I
can t even defend myself?  Damn it, I never wanted him to feel like he had
to protect me.

The rape had changed everything.  Her job, her personal life, her health. 
It was all going down the tubes.  All that hard work for nothing.
  
She closed her eyes.  Here, on this very bed, she thought, that bastard
raped me.  She could remember the entire rape in detail.  From the moment
she woke up to sense someone standing over her to when he heard sirens
outside (which had turned out to be an ambulance) and got scared and left.
 

As soon as she had realized there was someone there, she had scrambled to
get her gun from the bedside table, but he was faster than her and climbed
on top of her, straddling her body with his legs, pinning her arms down. 
Hit her in the face, hard enough to stun her but not hard enough to knock
her unconscious.  Held the knife to her throat, whispering threats of
using it if she didn t stay quiet.  She realized that no matter what she
was praying, that he was going to rape her, and that there was nothing she
could do about it.

He pulled at her sweats, yanked viciously the waistband of them.  She felt
the elastic burning her skin, and she knew then that there was going to be
no stopping him.  She could see it in his eyes.  Feel it in the hardness
of his erection pressing into her groin.

She sat up, picking her head up.  The panic was back.  Her breathing,
which had been rapid, was coming out in gasps.  Her heart was racing.  Her
hands were clammy and she felt like she was going to vomit.  She tried to
get up, but her legs were trembling so badly that she knew she would faint
if she tried.   Mulder!  she called out as best as she could.

He came running into the room, having heard her terrified cry from the
bathroom.  He went to her side immediately.   It s OK, Scully,  he said
soothingly.   I m right here.  Nothing s going to happen to you.  You re
safe. 

The phone rang.  Scully whimpered.   Please, Mulder, can you answer it? 

He nodded and reached for the cordless.   Hello?  Yes, can I take a
message for her? 
Scully watched his face, trying to calm herself.   What? You ve got to be
kidding.   Mulder s tone was incredulous.   No, I ll call you back. 
Thanks. 

He hung up the phone.   What?  Scully asked him, terrified of what his
answer would be.

 He posted bail,  Mulder told her, trying to remain calm himself.

 What?  she asked, and her eyes got big.   He s out of jail?  Mulder he
could come over here and... 

 He s not going to get near you,  Mulder said firmly, wanting her to
believe him.   He won t get into this house. 

 Oh, God, Mulder...he could come back! 

 No, Scully, he won t,  he assured her.  I m not letting you out of my
sight for one second, Mulder thought.  He ll be dead before he touches you
again.

Scully closed her eyes.   This won t end, will it?  she asked, but it was
more of a statement than a question.  Mulder helped her lie down on the
bed and he sat down next to her, stroking her hair and her forehead.  

Finally, after almost an hour, she was asleep.  He got up, went into the
living room to check the locks on the front door.  He checked all the
windows.  He checked his gun, made sure that the clip was fully loaded. 
He went back into the bedroom and sat down on the other side of the bed,
next to Scully, and watched her.

Scully awoke a few times.  She tossed and turned in her sleep.  The
nightmares were back, he knew, and would likely stay this time.  He wanted
to hold her, but couldn t bring himself to take her in his arms.  He
watched her, knew that she was going through incredible pain, and that he
was not able to help her.  As he watched her, the pain in him surfaced,
and he understood why he felt it.  He knew that because he loved her, and
that she had been hurt, that it hurt him as well.  Mulder felt his throat
getting tight, and his chest ached from unshed tears.  He cleared his
throat, and Scully stirred, waking up, opening her eyes to look at him.  

She saw him sitting there, on the bed beside her, his face filled with
sadness.  She realized suddenly how lucky she was to have him in her life.
 She knew that she wanted him in her life.  Without him, she wasn t
complete.   Mulder,  she whispered,  thank you for being here. 

His eyes filled with tears, and he didn t try to stop them from falling. 
Scully sat up and he hugged her tightly to him, crying softly.   I m sorry
I wasn t here that night,  he managed to get out, but she quieted him.

 You can t watch over me every second,  she answered.   I m not mad at
you. 

He pulled from their embrace to look her in the eye.   I feel like I let
you down,  he confessed.  She shook her head, her eyes filled with
disbelief.

 Why?  she asked.

 Because I couldn t protect you.  Because it happened, and I didn t
protect you. 

 Mulder,  she said, feeling her own tears coming back,  you couldn t.  It
s not your fault, for God s sake. 

 I know,  he said, his tears slowing.   But it doesn t stop me from
thinking that I should have been here.  If I had been here... 

She shook her head.   No, it s OK.  It happened.  Now I deal with it, that
s all. 

 No, Scully,  he answered her firmly.   We deal with it.  I m here for
you.  Whatever you need. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, keeping the tears at bay.  When she opened
them again, she smiled at him weakly.   I love you so much,  she blurted
out.  She immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, stunned that she had
said what she said.   Oh, God,  she cried out, her words muffled by her
hand.  She couldn t look at him.

He took her hands, one at a time, gently, in his.   Dana, I know,  he
said.  He was silent for a long time.

She finally looked up at him.  Minutes had passed.   We re going to get
through this,  she said tentatively, and he nodded.  

 And you re going to be fine,  he said.   You always are. 



Three weeks had passed.  Scully was back to work, her bruises gone.  On
the surface, she was almost back to her old self.  Underneath, she was
struggling to deal with her demons.  At work, Mulder would watch her,
careful to make sure that she didn t know it.  He had stopped sleeping at
her apartment two weeks before.  Before his last night there, he had
dinner with her.  It was the same day that the locksmith had come by. 
They installed two new locks on the front door and installed locks on all
the windows, at Scully s insistence.  He had left that night with her
promise that she would call if she needed him, and that if she called, he
would come right over, no questions asked.

Mulder knew she was putting on a front at work.  He could see the dark
circles under her eyes and knew that she still wasn t sleeping enough.  A
few days after she had come back, Skinner had called her into a closed
door meeting.  Somehow he had gotten copies of the medical reports and
arrest reports and found out what had happened.  Over lunch that day,
Scully met Mulder back in their office after being with Skinnerausted, but
told Mulder that it had not been bad.   He was sympathetic without taking
pity on me,  she explained.  No one else in the Bureau knew what had
happened to her.  Skinner had promised her that no word of it would come
from him, and Scully trusted him.

She finally told her mother.  Scully told Mulder that Margaret Scully had
dissolved in tears.  There wasn t much more the woman could bear.  To lose
her husband and her daughter, and also to have thought that Scully was
dead, and now this.  But Scully reported that she was supportive, as she
had expected her to be.  Mulder was impressed that Scully was able to talk
more freely about the attack.  She referred to it as,  what happened to
me.   She still wasn t able to say the word rape, but Mulder knew it would
come in time.

She had so much to be glad about, she told him one day over lunch.  Her
pregnancy test had come back negative, as had the preliminary HIV testing.
 She would still be tested every six months for the next five years, but
her immediate fears had been laid to rest.  Some of that was helping her
to deal with what had happened to her.  What was helping the most, she
thought, was the support group she had joined and went to twice a week.

One afternoon, Mulder and Scully were working on some paperwork in the
office when the phone rang.  Scully picked it up without taking her eyes
off her work.   Scully,  she said, and then her head came up.   Yes, of
course.   Mulder looked up as well.  Scully was listening intently.  At
one point, her eyes grew sad, and then she glanced at Mulder.  Then she
looked away.   What hospital?  she asked, and listened, writing something
down.   Yes, I would,  she said into the phone.   Tomorrow would be fine. 
I ll see you then. 

She hung up the phone.   What s wrong?  he asked.

She was still staring out into the dark corner of the office and for a
minute, didn t answer him.  Her eyes were distant and unfocused.   They
caught him,  she finally said.

Mulder breathed deeply.  Thank God, he thought.   How? 

 He raped another woman,  Scully answered, turning to look directly at
him.   Someone chased after him and held him until the police got there. 

Mulder swallowed.  Bastard, he thought.   When did this happen? 

 Last night,  Scully answered.   The woman was pregnant.  Her first child.
 She miscarried early this morning. 

 Jesus,  Mulder breathed.

 They want me to come down and give a deposition, so it can be used for
the hearing,  she said, getting up and getting her coat.  

 Where are you going now?  he asked.

 I just need some air,  she replied.  Mulder got up and hurried over to
her before she got out the door.  He took her arm.  

 Scully-- 

She turned around to look at him.   I m OK,  she assured him.   I really
am. 

He nodded at her.   You sure?  Do you want me to go with you? 

She pondered this for a moment, and then nodded back.   No, really, I m
fine.  I just need to get out for a while. 

Mulder hugged her.  It was the first time in weeks that he had exchanged
any physical contact with her.  Scully relaxed into his arms easily,
closing her eyes.  He stroked her hair  gently, thinking about everything
she had gone through since the rape.  He was so amazed by her strength. 
It was one of the things he loved about her.  And maybe, someday, there
would be a chance for them.  It was fine, though.  He knew that he could
wait.  He would wait for her for as long as she needed.

He released her after kissing the top of her head softly.   Drive
carefully, Dana,  he said to her and smiled.  She smiled back.

 Thank you for everything,  she said, her voice a little unsteady.   I don
t know if I thanked you before. 

 You did.  

 Well, thanks again.  Thank you.   Her voice was definitely wavering on
the brink of tears now.  But she was controlling it well.

 Anytime, Scully. 

She hugged him again impulsively, quickly.  She was up on tiptoe,
whispering in his ear.   Thank you for not thinking I was fragile.  I love
you, Fox. 

And then she let him go, and she left the office without letting him say
another word.

******

Washington Memorial Hospital
Room 419


Scully stood outside the door of the room for a good five minutes.  She
didn t know if she had the right to be here, to even do what she was
thinking of doing.  She hadn t intended to come here when she had left the
FBI building, but after 20 minutes of driving around aimlessly, she had
finally driven to the hospital, knowing that it must have been where she
wanted to go in the first place.

Finally she knocked softly on the door and entered the room.  The woman
lying on the bed was about Scully s age, with dark blond hair.  Her name
was Allison Westfall.  She had an IV in one arm and a blood transfusion in
the other.  Scully had looked at her chart in the hall and noted that her
hemoglobin was very low, likely from all the blood she had lost from the
miscarriage.  The woman s skin was chalky white, except for the dark
bruises on her face and arms.  Her eyes were open, and she stared at
Scully.

 Who are you?  she asked, her voice breaking.  It was obvious she had been
crying.  

 My name is Dana Scully.  I just wanted to come talk to you,  she started
out.  God, what do I say next?

 Are you a doctor?  Allison asked.

 Yes,  Scully replied,  but that s not why I m here.  I m here
because....the same man who raped you last night raped me a month ago.  He
was out on bail when he attacked you last night.   Allison turned her head
towards the window.  Scully looked at the floor, wishing for a moment that
it would swallow her whole.  Maybe she shouldn t have come.   I m sorry. 
I shouldn t have bothered you,  she apologized, and turned to leave.

 No, wait,  Allison said, turning her head back to Scully.  She was
crying, tears falling down her cheeks, but no sounds coming from her lips.
 Her face was still.  Scully walked closer to her bedside and sat down in
the chair that was pulled close to the bed.   You know about my baby?  she
asked.  Scully nodded.   My husband...he was away on business.  He s on
his way back.  The police called him. 

Scully nodded.  In some ways, she could not understand what Allison was
feeling.  Married, having somewhat of a normal domestic life.  She had
been pregnant, and now the baby that had been growing in her was gone. 
She couldn t imagine the pain.  Then she stopped herself and reminded
herself why she had come in the first place.  She did understand.   I
know...I know what you re going through,  Scully stammered,  and if I can
help, in any way, please...  she trailed off.  Allison s tears had started
to flow again, and Scully found herself crying silently as well.
  
Allison reached her hand over the edge of the bed.  Dana Scully took her
hand and squeezed it.  In that simple act, two women who had nothing and
everything in common, turned to each other for support.  In that support,
they felt love and compassion and understanding: the starting blocks of
healing.


Fragile - The Sequel
by Leyla Harrison

Disclaimer: I don t even know how to rate this one.  I strongly suggest
that you read the original, edited Fragile (which I am reposting before
this) for this one to make any sense to you.  There are memories of a
violent rape in this story, so if that bothers you, stop reading now. 
Also, there is some mild Mulder/Scully romance, so if that bothers you,
you should also stop reading.

However: this is NOT a romance story.  If you get to the scene when Mulder
and Scully are about to make love and are disappointed by the fact that I
don t actually write another scene where you get to see them make love,
THIS STORY IS NOT FOR YOU.  

This story is for all the people who for some reason in their lives need
it.  Whether they need it for their own growth, for inspiration, for
courage, or for strength, these people will read this story and
understand.

I m not trying to be mean or angry, I am just forewarning you.  If you
want romace stories (you know, mushy love, some sex, no plot) read my
other stories.  That s not the point of this one, though.

Thank you to everyone who responded when I originally wrote and posted
Fragile back in January.  I still am getting responses to it.  Without
that support, I never would have finished Fragile or had the nerve to
write this sequel to it.  To say that I really appreciated the support is
an understatement.

Special thanks go to Johnine (Little Jo)...she knows why.  :)

*****

Dana Scully came into the office to find her partner, Fox Mulder, mulling
over a file.   Anything interesting?  she asked him.  She was disappointed
in seeing him so engrossed.  She had been toying with thoughts of coming
into the office and surprising him with a kiss lately, but hadn t yet
gotten up the nerve to do it.

Mulder sat up in his chair and flipped the file closed upon seeing his
partner. He slipped it under some other papers on his already cluttered
desk.  Hey, Scully,  he said nervously.

 Mulder,  she asked,  what s in that file? 

He looked down.   I didn t think you d want to see it,  he responded.

She thought he was pulling some kind of prank.   Why not?  she asked
innocently, walking over to his desk.

 Scully,  he said, warning in his tone,  I really didn t think... 

She slipped a quick hand under the mass of papers and pulled the file.  
Let s see now,  she said playfully, opening the file.  

Her face went white when she did, and all traces of humor left her
expression.  

Mulder stood up.   Scully, I m sorry. 

She looked at him.   When did he get out?  Why didn t anyone tell me?  
Her voice was tremulous.  

 Let s get out of here for a while, and we can talk about it,  he
suggested, taking her arm and leading her out of the office.  

****

His name was Richard Molinaro.  His rap sheet had consisted of petty
crimes.  Breaking and entering.  Shoplifting.  Until three years ago.

Then he had been arrested and charged with sexual assault, twice in one
one month.  His victims were Dana Scully and Allison Westfall.

There had been no criminal trial.  He had confessed, and since he was on
parole at the time of the rapes, the judge at his hearing had sentenced
him to seven years for each charge.  He had been returned to a jail in
Virginia.  And now, somehow, inexplicably, he had been paroled once again.
 On good behavior.

Mulder led Scully out of the FBI building and quickly got her across town
to the Lincoln Memorial, where they sat on the steps, looking into the
reflecting pool.   Skinner found out about it first,  Mulder told her.  
He had the file sent directly down to me to show you. 

She was not looking well, Mulder thought.  He had been amazed by her
resilience over the last two years.  She had someone managed to
emotionally pull herself back up from the trauma she had dealt with. 
Molinaro s other victim, Allison Westfall, had not been so lucky.  She had
spent most of the past two years in and out of psychiatric hospitals. 
Scully had been to visit her numerous times over the two years.

 I can t believe that they would parole him without calling me.  I can t
believe they wouldn t want me to give a statement,  Scully said.  

Mulder nodded.   It seems crazy. 

Scully stood up, her face determined.   I m going to call the parole
board. 

 That sounds like a good idea,  Mulder said, standing up as well.  
Scully, you know I can t tell you how prud I am of you.   

She looked at him.  In the past two years, they had carried on what could
easily be defined as the most chaste relationship in the history of
mankind.  Their  dates  consisted of dinner and a movie, goodnight hugs
and occasionally, a whispered  I love you .  Mulder had spent every
holiday with Scully at her mother s house.  Margaret Scully had twice
spied them holding hands.  Not once had they kissed.  

Scully went to him and hugged him tightly.   Mulder,  she said softly into
his ear,  I never could have made it without you. 

 No,  he replied, still holding her,  you re pretty strong.  You Scully
women are.  You bounced back pretty much on your own. 

Scully released him and looked up at him.   Mulder...  she said.  She was
suddenly struck by the fact that although they never discussed it, they
were a couple.  He had never, to her knowledge, dated anyone else in the
last two years.  He had never pressured her into anything since her rape. 
He had been wonderful.  And she loved him so much.

Scully went back up on tiptoe and leaned her head close to his.  He bent
down, realizing that she was going to kiss him for the first time with no
warning at all.  Right here, he thought, at the Lincoln Momument.  In
front of the reflecting pool.  He closed his eyes.

Scully s lips touched his lightly at first, hesitantly.  He sought her
lips gently, feeling the warmth of them against his own.  He wrapped his
arms around her waist, carefully, slowly pulling her to him.  She
responded by wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him with less
hesitancy, with more passion.  And he returned the kiss.

After all the years they had both spent dreaming, fantasizing about this
moment, it was now upon them.  The fact that they were among hundreds of
people was lost on both Mulder and Scully.  Everything else in the
background faded away as they kissed, exploring each others lips and
mouths.  Mulder could hear Scully sigh softly against him, and he reached
his arms up, his hands catching her face, holding her face, moving down to
her neck, wanting to caress her there, feeling the smooth skin of her
neck--

Scully reacted violently, tearing her lips from his and shoving him away
as if he were on fire.   Don't touch me like that!  she cried, and Mulder
backed away even further, frightened.  

 Scully!  Mulder was shocked by her reaction.   Scully-- 

She was standing about ten feet from him.  Her face was contorted with
pain and rage, and fear.  God, he thought, please, after all this time,
don t let her be scared of me.  She was trembling visibly and was on the
verge of tears.  

 Scully--  Mulder tried again.

 No!  she cried, and turned from him, running across the momument towards
the steps.  Mulder took off after her.  They were attracting more than a
few stares from curious onlookers.  

 Dana!  he called after her, easily catching up to her and taking her arm.

 Let go of me!  she screamed, her voice genuinely terrified.  She turned
to face him and he could see that he eyes were clouded, not even actually
looking at him.  She twisted her arm free from his grasp and an older man
approached them.

 Listen, you d better leave her alone,  the good samaritan warned Mulder.

 No, it s OK,  Mulder tried to explain, but the man wasn t interested.  It
looked bad for him.   She s sick...  Mulder didn t know how to continue.  
I m not going to hurt her. 

 Are you OK, miss?  the man said, turning to Scully and placing a hand on
her shoulder.

 Leave me alone!  she screamed again, and turned and ran.

The man was startled.  He turned to Mulder, realizing that he had been
telling the truth.   She seems pretty upset.  You d better catch up with
her before hse gets herself hurt. 

Mulder nodded and took off after Scully again.  He caught up with her the
the edge of the reflecting pool.   Dana,  he called,  please! 

She sank down to her knees and he was able to catch her as she fell.  She
was sobbing uncontrollably, but looked up at him.   Mulder,  she managed
to get out between tears,  please, help me. 



Scully opened the door to Skinner s office.  He looked up and nodded at
her.   Please, Agent Scully, come in. 

Scully crossed the room and sat down in the chair in front of the large
desk.  Skinner had papers all over it, as usual.  Scully s mind was
racing.  Why had he called her here?  Did he know about what had happened
at the Memorial the day before?  Scully felt the old feelings of shame and
guilt creeping into her mind.  She felt like a fool for how she had acted
with Mulder.  She was in love with him, and kissing him had been her move,
not his.  And then she had flipped out, like some wacko.  If Skinner
questioned her, what was she going to say?  She certainly couldn t tell
him about her feelings for Mulder.  It was against Bureau policy.

 Before we begin, Agent Scully, I d like to let you know that this
conversation is off the record. 

Scully nodded her head.   I understand. 

 How are you doing?  he asked without hesitation.

Scully swallowed hard, trying to contemplate her answer.   I m fine, sir, 
she finally said.

 Agent Scully,  Skinner said, his voice low,  it s perfectly
understandable that you would be under considerable stress right now.  Any
person in your situation would be. 

If only you knew, Scully thought, but simply nodded her head again.

 Agent Scully, if you would like some time off, that can be easily
arranged. 

Scully recalled what her therapist had said to her that morning about
taking things slower, perhaps even taking some time off from work.  Scully
had been opposed to the idea.  She shook her head again now to Skinner.  
With all due respect, sir, I appreciate the offer.  But I ve got
everything under control, and I would like to continue working.   She
paused, looking as his dark eyes watching her response carefully.   I m
fine.  I really am.   She was trying to sound convincing.

Skinner knew that Dana Scully was strong.  Being her next in command for
the past 4 and a half years had taught him that.  But he also knew that
she was facing something that no one should have to face.  He knew she was
lying to him.  He felt terrible not being able to offer her support
personally, but he had a feeling that Mulder was helping her along those
lines.   Well, Agent Scully,  he finally said after a long silence,  if
you change your mind, the offer still stands.  Just let me know. 

 Thank you, sir. 

 That s all, Scully,  he said, and she stood and left the office, closing
the door behind her.

******

Scully put the key in the top lock of her door and turned it, hearing the
deadbolt unlock.  She turned the doorknob and pushed the door open.

A light was on the living room.  She could see a light on the in the
kitchen, and she heard water running.  The hairs on the back of her neck
stood up on end, and she felt her heart rate quicken.  Oh, God, he s in my
apartment, she thought.  She let her purse strap slide off her shoulder
and let the purse softly fall to the floor as she drew her gun from her
waist.

Scully slowly advanced into the apartment, towards the kitchen.  She could
see Molinaro s face in front of her, as she had opened her eyes that night
to find him over her bed.  This time, I m going to surprise him, she
thought, but her actions were not as strong as her desires.  The gun
trembled in her hand.

The running water stopped, and she could hear someone walking across the
kitchen.

Come on, she prodded herself.  Just walk in there.

She tightened her grip on the gun and took a deep breath before going
around the corner.   Freeze!  she screamed, tightening her finger on the
trigger, ready to shoot.

In front of her, Mulder spun around and dropped the glass mixing bowl he
was holding.  It shattered on the floor at his feet.   Scully, it s me! 
he yelled.

 Jesus!  she swore, lowering her gun, trying to get her breathing to
return to normal.  Her heart was pounding so hard that she could feel it
in every vein in her body.  So close, she thought, closing her eyes for a
brief moment.  I almost shot him.  She opened her eyes and looked Mulder
over.   What the hell are you doing here? 

 I was trying to make you dinner,  Mulder answered, looking down at the
glass shards at his feet.   Surprise. 

Scully felt like kicking herself.  In a quick glance around the kitchen,
she could see the pot of pasta beginning to boil on the stove and the
simmering pot of sauce on the other burner.  In her fear, she hadn t even
noticed the tempting aroma the herbs and spices as she did now.  The
surprise meal, the broken glass, and the knowledge that she had almost
shot Mulder was overwhelming her.  Scully could feel hot tears just behind
her eyes, and she mentally pushed them back.

Mulder sensed it somehow, and he came to her and hugged her.  With his
arms around her, he silently slipped the gun from her hand.   Why don t
you get changed,  he suggested, releasing her,  and I ll finish making
dinner.   Scully looked helplessly at the broken glass on the floor.   I
ll get it, don t worry.   Mulder gave her a gentle push in the direction
of the bedroom.

He was worried about her, although after her panic attack her visit to her
old therapist had seemed to make her more at ease.  Until, he thought, as
he watched her head for her bedroom, she had almost shot him just a few
minutes before.

******

Scully emerged from the bedroom fifteen minutes later, feeling better. 
She had changed into jeans and a loose cabled sweater and had cried
silently in the bathroom for a few minutes, then washed her face, feeling
the comfort of the warm water on her skin.  The powerful smell of the
spaghetti sauce drew her towards her table.

Mulder had set the table, lit candles, and turned off all of the
unnecessary lights.  Soft classical music was playing.  As if by magic, as
Scully stood there gaping, Mulder appeared in the doorway with dinner.  He
stopped when he saw her.

My God, he thought, she looks beautiful.  The thought of kissing her,
before her panic attack the day before, flooded his senses.   Scully,
could you grab the wine from the kitchen?  he asked, trying to sounds
casual.

Scully nodded and returned a moment later, pouring the wine into two
glasses as Mulder spooned the steaming spaghetti onto their plates.

Scully had to admit that she felt better than she had since learning of
Molinaro s release.  Being here with Mulder, in a setting that she had
only dreamed of before, was almost unbelievable.   Since when did you know
how to cook?  she asked him suspiciously.  

He smiled back at her.   I know how to cook one thing,  he admitted.   My
mom taught me how to make her spaghetti sauce.   He lifted his glass of
wine to toast hers.  

 What are we toasting to?  she asked.  

 Our first at home date,  he answered, smiling, and was relieved when she
smiled back, clinking their glasses together and watching her sip
thoughtfully from her wine.

 Dinner smells good,  she informed him.

 It tastes as good as it smells,  he said confidently.

Across the table, Scully was trying to be calm.  Her hands were shaking
and she wasn t sure if Mulder had seen the glass shaking as they had
toasted to their date.  She was so nervous it was unbelievable.  Like I m
on the first date of my life, she thought.  This is crazy.  It s Mulder. 
We ve been on a hundred  dates .

But never like this, his eyes seemed to be telling her from across the
table.  Never alone.

The thought of it passed both nervous and excited shivers down her back. 
She had no idea what the night would hold for them.


 Dinner was incredible,  Scully said as she helped Mulder put the last
dishes away.  
 Thank you,  he said, smiling at her, turning off the water,  for not
expecting the worst. 
She smiled back, putting the dish towel away.   Another glass of wine? 
she asked.  Scully didn t know what to do, to say to him.  Dinner,
candles, soft music, wine...all of it was going to her head.  She wanted
to kiss him again, to let him lead her to the bedroom, do to her what she
had wanted him to do since she had first fallen in love with him all those
years ago...

Mulder nodded.  He was thinking the same things.

He stepped towards her, carefully, not wanting to frighten her.  It made
her heart quicken, but not from fear.  From excitement.  He touched her
face with one hand, feeling the softness of it.  He watched her face for
any sign that she wanted him to stop, using their ago old method of
communication with their eyes.  Silent communication.

Scully let him advance towards her more, her back up against the sink.  He
kissed her this time, gently, carefully, letting his lips move over hers
und him.

Please, Scully, he thought, please don t be scared.  I won t hurt you.

Mulder s emotions conflicted within him wildly.  He was incredibly aroused
from the gentle touch of her hands moving down him back, and terrified
that she was going to panic again.  He reluctantly broke from their kiss
and studied her face.

 Why did you stop?  she asked, a little breathless, her face slightly
flushed.

 Because I want to make sure that you want to do this. 

She smiled tenderly at him.   Mulder, I ve wanted to do this for longer
than you can imagine. 

 I don t know about that,  he replied, smiling back. 

 I want you to stay here tonight,  Scully told him.

 Dana, are you sure?  he asked.  The use of her first name was not lost on
her.

 Mulder, I want you to stay.  I know you want to stay.   Mulder nodded.  
Good.  Then it s settled.  You re staying. 

Without reservation, Scully took his hand and led him into the bedroom. 
Mulder looked around the room, recalling the last time he had been in it. 
He pushed those darker memories aside.  Tonight, they were going to create
new ones.  He kissed her again, feeling her respond to him.  

Scully was tugging at his shirt, trying to pull it from the waist of his
jeans, succeeding and slipping her cool hands onto his skin.  He gasped at
her touch.   Scully... 

Mulder looked at her, using the silent words again.  I want to take your
shirt off, he thought, and she nodded her approval.  Mulder pulled the
soft material up and over her head.  She was wearing no bra underneath,
and he breathed deeply at the sight of her breasts.  He ran his hand over
each one, carefully, avoiding her nipples.  

Mulder, please.

Not yet, Scully, not yet.

Her drew her onto the bed, unbuttoning her jeans and tugging them down off
her hips, pulling her underwear with them.  She helped him by kicking them
off the rest of the way, leaving her nude.  Mulder stripped off his shirt
and jeans and crawled back under the covers with her, pressing the length
of his body against hers, closing his eyes, kissing her neck, her chin,
her mouth, her eyelids.  She sighed and moved against him.

Mulder ran his hands over her body, her back, her hips, her waist, her
breasts, her legs.  She was incredibly sensitive to his touch.  He moved
his hand over her breasts again, this time brushing her nipples with the
tips of his fingers.  Scully felt a wave of arousal flow thorough her
body, and a spark of fear.  She opened her eyes.  It s Mulder, she told
herself, pushing it away, and closed her eyes again.

He bent his head to suck on one of her nipples, gently, carefully, his
tongue making small circles around them and over the sensitive tip, making
her sigh and grasp his arms, his chest.  

Mulder slipped one hand down between her legs, carefully, slowly pushing
them apart, moving his fingers through the soft tufts of curly hair to
touch her, finding her wet, hearing her gasp and moan softly at the touch.
  Mulder, Mulder,  she whispered in his ear.  Her words and sounds caused
waves of love to crash over him.

He smiled at her body moving under his touch, kissing her.  So long, he
thought, we have waited for this so long, and now it s going to be
perfect.   I love you,  he whispered back to her.

Scully felt him touching her, felt him causing her body to arch and move,
felt him causing her to moan and say his name.  Oh, Mulder, she
thought...this is so right.  So right.

The pleasure within her began to build.  Her moans got a little louder,
her breathing more rapid.   It s just the beginning,  he said to her
softly, lovingly.   We have all night.  We have forever. 

Suddenly, Scully felt a rapid shift.  It was as if she had been yanked
from her own body and placed at the side of the bed, hovering over it
slightly.  She could see what was going on below her.  She was writhing
under Mulder s touch, he was taking special care to make it perfect for
her. 

He lifted himself up just as she was beginning to come.  Positioned
himself over her body.  She was naked and vulnerable.  His hair suddenly
darkened, his build changed.  His movements, before so tender and gentle,
were becoming rough.  Scully blinked rapidly a few times, and she was back
on the bed, coming, moaning, and he was on top of her, his fingers gone,
and she felt him forcing himself into her.  She squeezed her eyes tightly
shut for a moment, trying to make her body stop responding to him, but it
was impossible.  She couldn t stop the orgasm as it built, pushing her
over the edge, moaning and crying out.  

Scully opened her eyes as she felt him push deep within her.  Mulder was
gone.  Molinaro s face was over hers.  His mouth was twisted into an evil
smile, and he was laughing.   You re coming for me now, aren t you, bitch?
 he asked, and Scully screamed.

 God, no, please, stop!  

Mulder moved to Scully s side immediately.  She had began to come and she
had somewhat faded out, but Mulder had assumed that it was because of the
pleasure.  She had closed her eyes, and then he had moved to cradle her,
wanting her to open her eyes after the orgasm was over, to see that he was
there, that she was safe.  He had done all of that, knowing that once she
had been relaxed again, that they would resume making love.

He hadn t even come near to entering her.

 Stop, Mulder, God, stop him, please!  she cried, and her words were
beginning to disappear, her hands balled up over her eyes, sobbing in
loud, terrified wails.

 Scully, it s me, I m here,  Mulder repeated over and over.  His heart was
pounding in terror.  He had read about flashbacks before, but never
imagined what it would be like with Scully.  He tried to think of what
would make her feel better.  He wrapped the sheet around his own body and
the blanket around hers.   I m here.  It s OK.  You re fine,  he repeated,
holding her carefully, not too tightly, lightly stroking her forehead as
she sobbed wordlessly.

******

Scully opened her eyes.  Through hazy vision she could see that she was
still in her bed, with Mulder curled up next to her, one arm protectively
around her waist.  As she blinked, Mulder stirred next to her, kissing her
forehead lightly.   Hi,  he said softly.   How are you doing?   Scully
wrapped her arms tighter around his waist.

Scully could feel immediately that he was wearing his jeans.  She was
wearing a soft flannel nightgown.   How did I get this on?  she asked,
bewildered and still scared.

 I found it in one of your drawers.  I figured...you wouldn t want to wake
up with no clothes on. 

Scully nodded gratefully.  She closed her eyes, pushing her face into the
pillow, trying to hide the tears.  It was too late.  Mulder had seen them.
 And he had seen the embarrassment and shame she was trying to keep from
him as well.   I m sorry,  she said, her voice muffled.

Mulder lightly rubbed her back, keeping his arm around her supportively.  
Dana, there s nothing to be sorry about. 

She pulled her face up to look at him, her tearstained cheeks red.   But,
Mulder-- 

 Honey, there s nothing to be sorry about,  he repeated, firmly.   It s
OK. 

Scully put her face back into the pillow and cried.  When Mulder tried to
pull her up so that he could hold her more fully, she let him.


Ten months had passed.  Molinaro had not come calling, or made any
contact.  Scully had gone back into therapy.  Mulder had willing moved in
with her as soon as she had suggested it.  He attended support groups for
partners of victims of sexual assault.  Scully s nightmares had resumed
with alarming frequency soon after the first time they had tried to make
love, but were back on the decline.  Occasionally she would have a
particularly terrifying one, and would wake up screaming, and Mulder was
there to hold her and calm her and help her fall back asleep.

Scully had broken the news about the progression of her relationship with
Mulder to her mother, who couldn t have been more pleased.   Another FBI
agent in the family,  she had joked initially, but had added later,  Dana,
I m so glad that you two found each other. 

For the first few months, Mulder had continued paying rent for his
apartment, although he had moved all of his things - books and clothes and
his small array of furniture and knick knacks - into Scully s place. 
Scully had insisted upon it.  She was nervous that Sould find out and fire
them.  But a month later, Skinner had called both of them in for another 
off the record  conversation and had told them that he approved of their
relationship.  Of course he hadn t said it in so many words.  But he had
said it.  The one thing he had said with firmness, which had surprised
both Mulder and Scully, was to Mulder as they were leaving the office.   I
would certainly hope, Agent Mulder, that you would hurry up and marry
Agent Scully,  he had said in a low voice.   I ve been expecting it, but I
sure as hell didn t think you d take this long to do it.   And then he had
smiled at the two of them.

Mulder and Scully finally made love for the first time almost seven months
after the first time they tried.  When it was over, Mulder held Scully
tightly in his arms, kissed the top of her head, and rubbed her back.  
You OK?  he asked.

 Uh-huh,  she mumbled.

 Honey, look at me.   

Scully turned to look at him.  He expected the tears, the trembling, the
vivid flashbacks that were real to her and unfathomable to him.  On Scully
s face was a smile.  A smile.

Her eyes were brimming with tears, but for once Mulder knew that they were
not from fear.   I pushed him out,  Scully said to him.   Out of my head. 

 Good for you,  Mulder said, prouder of her than he had ever been before. 
He had known that this day would come.  He knew that she would still have
the flashbacks when they would make love, but he was hoping, as she was,
that with this breakthrough, the occurrences would be less.

 I don t know why you stay with me,  Scully had said to him one night
after calming down from a flashback.  

 Because I love you,  Mulder had answered simply.

 Thank you,  she had whispered as they were about to drift off to sleep
that night.

 For what?  Mulder had asked.

 For not treating me as if I was fragile,  she had answered, remembering
telling him that once before.

 You re not fragile,  he had mumbled back to her, his voice sleepy.   You
re the only one who can make yourself be strong.  Remember that. 

Mulder kissed her now, kissing the tears of happiness that had fallen on
her cheeks.   Scully, I was thinking, now is as good of a time as any to
talk about this.  Remember what Skinner said to me? 

Scully sat up in bed and kissed Mulder quickly.   Of course I do. 

 So what do you say?  he asked.

 Boy, Mulder, you sure do have a way with romantic proposals,  Scully
teased him.  She had been hoping for something a little more romantic. 
Which, of course, Mulder knew.  He had already been ring shopping with
Margaret Scully almost six weeks earlier, and with her help, had picked
out the perfect ring.

 Well, I know you like romance and all that, but you know me, I prefer the
element of surprise.   Mulder reached under the mattress and pulled out a
small velvet box.

 Mulder,  Scully gasped in astonishment,  how long has that been there? 

 About a month,  he answered, opening the box to reveal the ring.  Scully
s eyes pooled up again.   Dana Katherine Scully, will you do me the great
honor and pleasure of becoming my wife? 

Scully nodded, letting him slip the ring on her finger.   Yes,  she
whispered, hardly able to speak.

******

Dana Scully opened the door to the classroom that was used for the weekly
support groups that she had been attending off and on for almost four
years.  In the past months, she had felt more and more of a need to attend
them again more regularly, and had found the support and understanding
from the other women there to be somehow more helpful now than it had been
right after her rape almost four years previous.

Scully scanned the room quickly.  There were a few faces that she knew,
and she nodded her head in hello to them.  In the corner, alone, sat
Allison Westfall.
Scully went to her side immediately.

 Allison, how are you?  she asked.  She had last seen Allison in a
hospital in Virginia four months ago.  Allison had spent the better part
of four years denying her feelings about the rape that had destroyed her
marriage and a good part of her life and sanity.  Scully was more than a
little surprised to see her here.

 Hi, Dana,  Allison greeted her, glad to see a familiar face.   I m okay. 

 I m a little surprised to see you here,  Scully confessed.

Allison nodded.   You know, I was thinking a lot about what you said the
last time I saw you.  About how healing only happens when you open
yourself up to the things that have hurt you. 

 I said that?  Scully asked, smiling.   God, I sounds so preachy.  It s
terrible. 

 No,  Allison answered,  it s not.  It got me thinking.  For the last
three and a half years now I ve been denying all the feelings about what
happened that have been tearing me apart. And you know what?  I m tired of
doing it.  I m tired of being a victim.   Scully nodded.  I ve been going
to a few different support groups, trying to find one that I felt
comfortable in.  I was here last week.  It felt good...to talk about
things.  To open up.  Scary, but good. 

Scully nodded again.   I wasn t here last week, but I m glad you came
back.  It s a good group. 

 I m glad you re here.  It almost makes it seem like it makes it more
right.  Someone I already know, someone I know is already supportive,
being here...it makes all the difference.  The thing I hate the most is
that most people treat me differently when they know I was raped.  Like
any little thing they say is going to hurt me, or break me.  I m stronger
than that.  It s taken me a long time to realize it, but I am.  And I ve
been able to find certain people in my life who realize it, too. 

Scully reached out and took Allison s hand, squeezing it, tears filling
her eyes as she understood exactly what Allison meant.  She closed her
eyes for a moment as she silently thanked Mulder for his love and support,
and for his reminders to her that she was as strong as she let herself be.

END


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