The Night Inn - Part 2 
xXx
I'm going to tell you some things from this point on that normally 
come under the heading of *if I told you that I'd have to kill you*, 
all right? But no worries. I'm keeping my weapon in it's holster. 
At least that's one *gun* that stayed where it should have this 
weekend. God.
I had a fucking nightmare at the Red Roof Inn. I still can't 
believe I had a God damned Vietnam flashback on the road like 
that. I've never had one on a case or when I've been on Bureau 
business before. No, those dreams were usually reserved for 
quiet nights at home or worse yet - while I'm in bed with 
someone and we've just had great sex. I'll wake up screaming 
and thrashing, usually scaring the living shit out of my lover. It's 
not a pretty experience. Sharon got used to it after a while. 
Believe it or not the nightmares probably were one of the few 
things that didn't contribute to our divorce. Not talking to her half 
the time had a lot more to do with it I expect. At any rate - this 
nightmare frightened me - ok. It chilled me to the bone because 
it was horrendous. I won't go into it, but suffice it to say that this 
dream was all the Living Dead, Nightmare on Elm Street, 
Halloween, and Friday the 13th films rolled into one. With 
Apocalypse Now and Platoon thrown in for good measure. Of 
course this was my own personal apocalypse. The fact that it 
was so vivid and happened away from familiar surroundings 
was the main reason I hared out. Christ. I woke up practically 
smelling cordite.
And how did I wake up? An angel woke me up. I heard her 
knock, knock, knocking on Heaven's door and when I opened it 
she was just standing there. Thank you God, because I really 
did need someone at that point. I was scared shitless. I needed 
someone but I wasn't sure I wanted it to be Dana Scully. She 
asked me if I wanted her to get Mulder. Christ on a crutch. I 
would have eaten a bullet if Mulder had seen me that way. I 
was having trouble focusing but when I finally saw her face I 
knew right away, God help me, I did want it to be Dana Scully. I 
realized I was standing there with my briefs flapping in the 
breeze however, so I went back in my room and pulled on my 
robe. I returned to the door and asked her in. I was shaking. I 
tried really hard not to let her see me in that condition but it was 
just too difficult. Fuck it, I thought. She's seen more than 
enough all ready anyway.
I just flopped down in a chair and she sat down on the edge of 
the bed. I could hear her shifting. She asked me if I wanted to 
talk. Women! They always want to talk about things. Unburden 
themselves. Well Dana Scully - I didn't think you wanted to 
know what it felt like to see your best friend's brains blown out in 
a bloody cloud of gray matter and bone fragments and then 
watch as they splattered all over your chest. Alternately I didn't 
think you wanted to know what it felt like to have shrapnel 
plaster your scalp and then hot rounds rip into your groin so the 
split second before you thought you were going to die you 
hoped you did because you just *knew* you'd been 
emasculated and living without a dick and/or balls was the last 
thing you wanted to do. Dying was preferable because at least 
you'd be with Cracker.
Yeah, and here's the part I really didn't think she needed to 
hear. But I'll tell it now, to you. John Rand was more than my 
best friend. He was my lover - OK. Yeah. You heard me right. I 
loved him and he loved me. We made love. I'm not talking 
fucking I'm talking honest to God love between two men, all 
right. Even though we were only 19 years old we were men. 
War does that to you damn quick - makes you a man. But we 
were scared and horny as hell too and...and it just happened. 
One night in a Saigon hotel I was stoned and so was he. I 
thought John liked his woman. He chased whores like there 
was no tomorrow at any rate. I knew I liked girls. I'd lost my 
virginity to a girl I thought I loved just before I shipped out. 
Someone I thought I loved and had gotten a dear John letter 
from after I'd been *In Country* for less than 3 months. I'd 
pretty much given up on romance for a while at that point. Once 
bitten as they say.
But John and I - we were buds. I knew I liked him a lot. He...he 
was special. Just a sweet, uncomplicated kid from Georgia with 
a high hillbilly laugh and an easy going friendly nature.
This night in the hotel we fell into bed after hours of carousing. 
John hadn't connected up with any whores that night. He just 
hadn't seemed in the mood. We were lying in bed, stoned as 
hell, and we started wrestling a little. And then it wasn't wrestling 
any more. He whispered a suggestion in my ear. I smiled. You 
know. This was just Cracker. He was such a joker. But when I 
looked in his eyes I suddenly knew he wasn't joking. 
"I love you Waltuh," he told me quietly, "I know you think this is 
just the weed talkin' but Sinnuh, I mean it. I...I mean I love you 
like a man isn't supposed to love another man I guess. But I do - 
I'm sorry. If you want to leave, I'll understand."
He was so beautiful in that moment. Something else I have to 
tell you. Cracker Rand looked just like Fox Mulder probably 
looked when he was 19. The resemblance is uncanny really. I 
know John would have looked like Mulder looks now if he had 
lived. But not exactly. John would never have been as tortured 
or had the guilt monkey riding his back. They aren't the same 
people, Mulder and John. John wouldn't have looked as...as 
haunted as Fox Mulder.
Now I don't want you to think that this means I have a hard on 
for Mulder, all right? Because I don't. At least I don't think I feel 
the same way about him as I felt about John. Sure, I know I 
have that component in me - the bisexual thing I mean. Shock 
you? Well, fuck you if it does. Sit and spin on the idea for a 
while and see if I care. But I digress. I might be attracted to 
Mulder but like I said - John and Mulder are different men. I 
respect Mulder. I like him. But ball him? I don't think so. And 
anyway even if I felt like leaning that way I can't - I'm his 
superior. I won't cross that line. You just don't cross that line and 
ultimately that's the dilemma here.
At any rate - I looked at Cracker Rand that night and I thought - 
Yeah, I loved him. In that moment I loved him. He was baring 
his soul and his heart to me simply and purely. There wasn't 
very much simple or pure in that Godforsaken war and if being 
in his arms that night was going to make us both find that 
wonderfully sweet place I saw hinted at in his eyes then hell 
yes, I loved him and I wanted him right then and now. 
"I love you too, John," I told him. And God help us both I did. 
After that I imagine you can guess the rest. I've never let a man 
top me since. Oh yeah, there have been a couple of other men 
- before I married Sharon. But I didn't really love them. Not like I 
loved John. And I wouldn't do with them what I did with Cracker 
Rand. That night I let John fuck me in the ass. I wanted to feel 
what it was like to give myself to someone I knew I cared more 
about than I cared for myself. And God, that boy could ride. I let 
him do me every chance I got after that. I finally got around to 
doing him but nothing beat having his cock up my ass. And he 
was a gentleman too. Never did me without a condom. I guess I 
was lucky that way.
But I couldn't tell Dana Scully any of this stuff. I mean Gee why 
not? Crap! I can just see the expression on her face when I 
said, "Yes, Scully my best friend, and lover was on point one 
morning and the VC blew his brains out in front of me. And you 
know what - I blamed myself because I'd been talking on point. 
If they hadn't heard my fucking big mouth...But Cracker had 
been talking first. And you know what - he'd been telling me 
how good I was in bed. Can you beat that? There we were in 
the fucking *heart of darkness* and my beautiful hazel eyed 
lover is telling me how tight I feel when he's riding my ass - how 
he wanted to come in me again tonight, and did I think I was too 
sore? For God's sake. So, I guess I wasn't really to blame. And 
who's to blame for the cocksucking enemy in war time anyway.
John died, and I lived, and that's fate. But I really hated the fact 
that I had to dream about his death like I did. Sometimes I would 
dream about being in his arms, about him being in me. But 
those dreams were few and far between. No the other kind - the 
soul sucking, gut wrenching nightmares were my lot in life. And 
it...it hurt.
Scully tried to be solicitous. I just wanted her to sit there and 
shut up until I could get control of myself. I just wanted to hear 
the sounds of another living soul since I had just heard the 
wailing of so many dead ones in my dream. Warmth. Life. Sex. 
I could smell her. She smelled...she smelled like sex. The idea 
suddenly hit my groin like a sledge hammer. The feeling took 
my breath away. I knew without a doubt that she smelled like - 
no other way to put it politely - hot pussy. Sorry. Look, I know 
women beat off. Fact of life. If Scully wanted to get a little for 
herself I mean - so what. But Jesus she smelled like she'd been 
doing herself half the night and Holy Ghost that natural perfume 
was intoxicating. 
She was asking me if I wanted a glass of water. I told her I had 
some Diet Cokes in the ice bucket. She brought me one and 
took one for herself.
When she bent close to put the Coke in front of me I didn't dare 
look at her. Here I was struggling to get myself under control 
with the relaxation techniques the company shrink gave me, 
and Dana Scully was making me as horny as hell. I had just had 
a mind numbing, terrifying Vietnam nightmare and Dana 
Scully's aroma was sending me into orbit. This was it I thought - 
male menopause will hit now - or a massive mid-life crisis and it 
will all be over. My cock will explode or maybe it will drop off. 
Either way I would die and it would be better than feeling this 
way. 
Why was this happening? It was happening because I *was* 
terrified and fuck it - I was lonely too. I had been thinking about 
sex with someone I loved deeply at one point in my life, and I 
wanted to make a connection with someone, anyone. I wanted 
to feel safe, protected, alive, human again. But not with Dana 
Scully. Can't touch that with a ten foot pole (and mine felt like it 
was getting just about that long right at that point), no sir. Once 
again - you don't cross that line no matter how bad you want to 
cross it. No matter how much you never thought in a million 
years that you could be attracted to a petite red head when all 
your women have been tall, and leggy and mostly blondes. No 
matter how much you want to turn to her and say - "You know I 
think you care for me just a little Agent Scully. Would you like to 
find out how much I care for you?" Jesus wept. So, I made 
myself take a long drink of that cold Coke. I should have stuck 
it down between my legs. As I swigged from the can I heard her 
make a small sound. I put the can down and looked in her 
direction. I caught her eyes in an instant. And Lord help us both. 
She...I thought Christ she's turned on too. She had been 
watching me suck down my Coke and now she looked like she 
wanted me to suck...
I told her she should go. Immediately. There was no question. I 
had to get her out of my room right away or I was afraid what 
might happen. I would have done it. I would have taken her right 
there on that bed. At that vulnerable moment seeing the mixture 
of concern, compassion and arousal on her face I would have 
at the very least asked her if she would spend the night with me. 
I mean spend the night making love with me. I wouldn't have 
hurt her. If she had said no I would have apologized and let her 
go. If she had said yes I would have given her whatever I could. 
The best that I had because she showed an ounce of caring for 
this uptight bastard and she really didn't have to at all, you 
know. She could have let me shriek myself hoarse in here and 
had a good laugh with Mulder over it in the morning. But she's 
not like that, Dana Scully isn't. She's a hell of a human being.
But I told her good night and shut the door behind her. I wouldn't 
compromise her that way by making an advance which would 
very likely ruin both our careers. I tried to shut her out of my 
heart and mind, and then I shut her out of my room. I chalked 
up what had just happened to my raging libido. And oh yeah, it 
rages sometimes. You know what they say about bald men? 
Excess androgen? Makes us super studs? Well, I do have a 
healthy sex drive. But at any rate - I was determined that Dana 
Scully wasn't going to find out how healthy. So, I sent her back 
to bed and shut the door behind her. I didn't lock it though. If on 
the off chance I had another fit of the screaming meemies I 
wanted to make sure either she or even Mulder for that matter, 
could get to me to wake me up before I had the whole hotel up 
and at 'em. That would have really been the last straw.
So I was standing there on the other side of the door with a can 
of Coke in my hand and the battle of the bulge in my briefs. I 
looked down between the edges of my robe at the all too 
obvious evidence of my arousal. Shit. What now? As much as 
I'd like to jerk myself off I just couldn't bring myself to do it. The 
combination of the nightmare and really what amounted now to 
disgust over my thoughts regarding Scully made the thought of 
beating my own meat suddenly repulsive to me. Also, I didn't 
want to have these erotic thoughts in connection with Scully. It 
was dangerous. The temptation was too great. The urge to 
merge, to step over the boundary and make a really foolish 
mistake were very strong. I needed something to help me to 
take my mind off my johnson. A diversion to get my third eye 
blind for sure.
There was only one thing I could think to do. I upended the can 
of Coke and drained the remainder of it. Then I crushed the can 
in my hand. I tore it in half. I threw one half into the trash can 
beside the bed. I gripped the other half firmly and plunged the 
sharp edge into my right thigh, grinding it steadily. I gritted my 
teeth against the pain as I drew blood. A tiny red rivulet ran 
down my leg. The pain dulled my ardor quite successfully. I 
focused on it, and memorized the stabbing agony of it, so that I 
could call it up later when similar untoward thoughts regarding 
Dana Scully jumped unbidden into my mind. I had done this 
before. My thighs bore several superficial scars that I had never 
received in the war.
I tossed the bloody can half into the trash to join it's mate. I held 
my hand cupped over the small wound to avoid dripping blood 
on the carpet as I walked into the bathroom. I stood in front of 
the shower. Some blood did drip on the tile floor but that would 
easily be cleaned up. I reached into the shower and turned the 
cold water on full force. It gushed out frigid. I stripped off my 
briefs and tossed them onto the back of the toilet. I stepped into 
the shower and let the ice cold water immediately hit my cock 
and balls. The shock made me utter a low cry. Ah, this was 
much better. All thoughts of sex flowed out of me and down the 
drain with the icy water and the blood from my thigh. 
I let the water run over my body until I was pruned up and my 
nuts felt like they were trying to hide near my intestines. I only 
left the shower at that point. I took a Band-Aid out of my 
shaving kit and pressed it over the cut on my leg. The cold had 
blotted out the pain of the wound for now. I knew it would hurt 
like a son of a bitch in the morning. The hurting was good. The 
ache would keep me in line. I felt refreshed, centered, ready to 
meet the world of sleep. I headed out of the bathroom and over 
to the king size bed. I crawled down between the sheets and 
under the bedspread. Man, it was warm and comfortable. I felt 
sleep approaching fast. I hoped I was going to dream about 
John. About loving him, not watching him die for a change. I fell 
asleep with his name on my lips.
xXx
Dana Scully lay in Fox Mulder's arms, in his bed, in his room at 
the Red Roof Inn. When she had returned to his room and his 
bed she had been too upset to make love. Mulder hadn't 
expected she would be interested in continuing their earlier 
erotic play. He had waited for her to return and then enfolded 
her in his arms under the covers where it was warm and safe. 
Now they lay talking, sleepy, but just fending off sleep a little 
longer so that Scully would be less worried and uneasy.
Scully was uneasy for a number of reasons. Skinner's 
nightmare was only one of them.
"I know, I know..." Mulder was saying as he stroked her hair. 
She had been tearing up a bit from the experience of seeing 
Skinner in extremis. Mulder loved her even more for her 
compassion and concern for Walter Skinner. He felt privileged 
to have her in his arms.
"Mulder he just looked so lost. God. I wonder if he has those 
nightmares a lot."
"Well, there isn't much we can do about it if he does, Scully. We 
just have to hope he gets some help."
"I think we should try to help him to be relaxed as much as 
possible for the rest of this trip. If he wants to go visit his Mother 
again or whatever, I think we should act like it's the most 
wonderful thing in the world and..." 
"OK, I get the message. No harassing the A.D. for the 
remainder of the trip. I'll mind my Ps and Qs, Scully, don't worry 
about it."
"Thanks, Mulder. And thanks for not barging into his room 
before. I really got the impression you were the last person he 
wanted to see. He barely wanted me there."
"No problem. I think I know what you mean. I hate it when you 
have to see me after...after a Samantha nightmare." he kissed 
the top of her head, "Do you think you can go to sleep now?"
"I guess so."
"Guess so? Is something else still bothering you?"
"There was something else that upset me and...I don't think I 
want to keep it bottled up. It wouldn't be fair to you, to us."
"To us? What do you mean?"
"This is so weird Mulder. It's...it made me rather ill actually."
Mulder shifted to lay next to her so he could look in her face. He 
stroked her hair.
"Scully, you know you can tell me anything now. What is it?"
"When I was in there with Skinner trying to help him through the 
aftermath of that nightmare I...well hell - I got incredibly hot for 
him Mulder. I mean one minute I was thinking I wanted to just 
act like his Mother and give him a big hug to tell him he'd be all 
right. And the next minute I wanted to jump his bones. It 
disgusted me, Mulder. How disgraceful. How could I be 
attracted to him under those circumstances? Good Lord," 
Scully whispered as she touched Mulder's face. She stroked 
him gently to temper the effect her words might have on him.
Mulder stared into her eyes. His face was gentle and caring.
"Scully, think about it. We'd just had probably one of the most 
erotic moments I'd ever had in *my* life and you rushed over to 
his room alone and probably worked up all ready. I think you 
were just feeling the residual effects of what we'd been doing 
that's all," he replied smiling at her in reassurance.
Scully smiled tentatively at him, "I expect you're right. But, well, 
it was sort of shocking."
"Shocking? Why? Come on - all kidding aside. Why wouldn't 
you be attracted to Skinner? There's no shame in it. Look, I've 
heard the women agents talking too. A lot of them think he's a 
hunk. If he wasn't a gentlemen and I guess worried about the 
regs as well, he could have any of them he wanted at any time. 
So, I wouldn't beat your chest over getting a hard on for him. I 
guess I should be flattered about it too."
"You're flattered that I was looking at Walter Skinner's chest and 
panting?"
"Well, yeah. You weren't tickling *his* G-Spot and pulling his 
pud tonight were you Scully? I'm flattered because you told me 
you looked, and I'm doubly flattered because I know you want 
to be with me. Boy, do I ever," he smiled broadly at her then 
and tenderly kissed her on the forehead.
"I love you, Mulder." 
"Luv you too. Now go to sleep. You want to be sharp for your 
presentation in the morning," he admonished her, humor 
tempering the words.
"Did you set the alarm? I should get out of here early so.."
"Yes, I set it. I'm going for a run anyway. Want to come along?"
"That would be great." 
Scully shifted sideways and pressed her back against Mulder's 
stomach. She snuggled close and he wrapped an arm around 
her waist. It felt so good to have him hold her like this. She 
almost liked this contact with him better than the sex. Almost 
but not quite. As she drifted off to sleep she wondered vaguely 
if she should have told him about the look she had seen in 
Skinner's eyes. The look of longing and desire for her mixed 
with fear. The look that had almost disturbed her more than 
what she had been feeling for her Boss in that moment. No, it 
wouldn't have mattered. It was all water under the bridge now. 
Skinner was locked up tight again. She'd seen that look come 
over his face as well. He was the A.D. again and not the 
frightened, lonely man she had glimpsed in his hotel room. She 
just hoped that man didn't get out very much. That thought 
disturbed her most of all. 
xXx
None of us talked about that night the next day. No surprise 
there. I mean, shit. I wasn't going to bring up the subject. As far 
as I was concerned it was over. The only reminder I had of the 
events was a Band-Aid on my leg. Fine by me.
We actually had breakfast together. It's amazing what you can 
overcome when you need your caffeine, bacon and eggs. No 
hint of nightmares or surreptitious looks at your agents in 
evidence. My stomach was growling. I had my priorities.
No hassles. Breakfast was very pleasant. Even Mulder was on 
his best behavior. I felt a whole lot better and I was looking 
forward to the symposium that day. 
My Mother and Sister were going to attend. I was really elated 
about it. This was the last time on this trip that I'd see Syl and 
probably my Mother as well. Syl was going down to the shore to 
join Roger and the kids. I wanted to tell her how much I loved, 
and missed her and how I wasn't going to be such a stranger in 
the future if I could help it. I wanted to tell my Mother the same 
thing.
So, I scarfed down my chow like I was a starving man. I think 
Mulder and Scully were sort of amazed to see me eat so much. 
But I knew I'd work it off when I got back to DC. I had seen 
Mulder and Scully go for a run this morning. So, the plate he 
had piled with food in front of him wasn't going to stay on his 
belly either. She wasn't eating much. I guess she was more 
concerned about her weight or something. She's petite. Maybe 
it's a problem. Although I could hardly believe it.
At any rate, we finished breakfast and drove over to the college. 
The symposium was about to get underway. I sat in the front 
row next to my Mother and Sister. I was on last. The clean up 
batter as keynote speaker. 
Jim introduced Scully first. Ladies first for that important PC 
factor.
Scully got a really healthy round of applause. Her presentation 
was outstanding. But I guess I told you that all ready when I first 
heard it. But it really was A-1. She had just the right amount of 
technical detail mixed in with really gruesome shit to make all 
the students think it was hip. It *was* fucking informative. Hell, I 
wanted to go cut up some poor stiff after I listened to Doctor 
Scully tell how rewarding it was to catch some Godforsaken 
maniac by investigating his hapless victim. Damn straight.
Mulder, *Mr. Premiere FBI Profiler* was up next. 
Mulder, of course dazzled the entire room. God, sometimes I 
hate that prick. No, I don't mean that. What I mean is if I had 
half the charisma Fox Mulder possesses I wouldn't have to 
worry about making myself into *King fucking Kong* in order to 
win friends and intimidate people - all right. The man just knows 
how to work a room. He can be a total social inept when he 
wants to act like one. But give him a podium and subject as 
horribly fascinating as Marty Prop or John Lee Roche and he 
shines like a lighthouse beacon.
So, my buttons were popping with pride at those two. What fine 
representatives of the Bureau I thought. The Director would be 
hot on them for sure when we got back. That was exactly the 
effect I'd hope to get. I wanted them to shine for a change so 
they could move through the morass of utter crap at the J. 
Edgar Hoover Building like they were wearing Teflon suits. 
They were due for some credit. They were due for some easy 
time. Doing well at the symposium was going to go a long way 
towards giving them some more respect amongst their peers as 
well as their superiors. Hell, I thought they did a fantastic job. 
And I was very appreciative. Because after all, and I do say this 
with a heavy sigh. If they look good, I look good. I feel like such 
a shit sometimes. But prestige at the Bureau is a fact of life. 
You need it and yeah, you covet it. The Bureau does that to 
you. It stinks, but it's true.
My Mother and Sister made some quiet comments during the 
break between and after the first two presentations. Syl didn't 
have much to say about Scully other then she thought she 
sounded wonderfully competent. She thought Mulder was a fox, 
just like his name. Spare me. No wonder he never uses his first 
name. I told her he was one of my best agents. I didn't tell her 
he spent his time chasing little green, oh excuse me, gray men, 
mutant flukes, vampires and rogue artificial intelligences 
amongst other oddities. My sister hung on his every word. 
My Mother watched me, watching Scully and then she 
whispered some very pointed questions about her. I had to raise 
an eyebrow. My Mother is very observant. Maybe too 
observant. I pressed my finger into the fresh Band-Aid that was 
covering the obviously not quite sore enough cut on my leg. I 
told my Mother that it was against regs to fraternize with a 
superior or partner. So, even if I was remotely interested which I 
wasn't, a relationship with Dana Scully was an impossibility. My 
Mother patted my knee in commiseration. I knew what she was 
thinking. She had been upset when Sharon and I divorced. She 
knew I was alone and it bothered her. She's a hard woman but 
she's not unfeeling. My Mother thought Mulder looked haunted. 
Like I said, she's very observant, my Mother. She chalked it up 
to the profiling. Well, she was partly right. I didn't tell her about 
the other reasons Mulder looks like a fallen angel sometimes. 
The guy has way too many issues to explain in a couple of 
quick sentences.
At any rate, I tried not to talk too much even though we did it 
during the brief break between Scully and Mulder's presentation 
and then just before I was up. I needed to focus for my turn at 
bat. I took my notes out of my suit coat pocket and stood at the 
side of the stage as Jim introduced me.
Well, what can I say? I got a standing ovation? Ok, I won't lie. I 
did. It was polite applause but everyone did stand. And honest to 
God I think Mulder got up first. He had laughed like hell at the 
part about Kevin Costner. I changed that a little further and 
reported our exact conversation from the critique in my office. I 
made sure it made me look humorously unhip and misguided 
and Mulder and Scully as young and hip because they bailed 
me out. I even emphasized the line about *if it had been Sean 
Connery* by drawing attention to the fact that we are both 
follicly challenged...well you get the idea. OK, lame. I know. But 
it made everyone laugh and like I said before, I don't mind 
laughing at myself sometimes. Especially when the eventual 
payoff is a standing ovation and makes me look like the hit that 
I know I can be when I try.
So, the symposium went well. The rest of the day was spent in 
individual and group discussions - sort of round robin meetings 
where Mulder, Scully and I had to answer a bunch of questions 
from students who had signed up for this part of the weekend. 
These were the kids who were actually interested in entering the 
FBI Academy. Some of them were very good prospects. I took 
a lot of notes and told the ones I thought had a chance to give it 
a shot. What the hell. I had no doubt I'd be seeing some of 
them.
We broke for a light lunch. I had lunch with my Mother and 
Sister. I invited Mulder and Scully along and they accepted to 
my surprise. Lunch was...interesting. Sylvia was red faced the 
whole damn time because Mulder deigned to talk to her. I had 
to laugh. The guy has a way of focusing his attention on you like 
a missile homing in on a laser beam to its target. The spotlight 
was too much for my Sister. I thought Roger had better get 
ready for her when she gets down to the shore. He won't know 
what hit him.
Scully talked to my Mother a lot. I got a little uncomfortable 
about it because I got the idea my Mother was fishing to find out 
if she was interested in me at all. I thought, great just what I 
need, *Esther Skinner matchmaker* making an appearance. I 
caught my Mother's eyes and she gave me a little smile. Boy, I 
hoped she wasn't telling Scully any embarrassing shit about 
how cute I looked bare naked in the bathtub at 2 years old or 
something. I'd never live that one down. Scully looked like she 
was enjoying herself though so maybe I was making a wrong 
guess regarding the conversation anyway.
My Mother and Sister skipped the last of the conference and 
we said our good byes outside the little restaurant we had eaten 
lunch in. Scully and Mulder went to browse in a bookstore next 
door so we could have some privacy. I was glad because damn 
it to hell I started tearing up again. Sylvia started crying and 
that's what did it. My Mother knew better than to get weepy. I 
could see her hold it back and she could see me trying to do the 
same. Her hug was extra tight and she kissed me on the cheek. 
"Walter, don't be such a stranger," she said as they headed for 
her BMW. 
"I won't Mom. Really. I'll call you when I get back. Maybe you 
can come down to DC soon. You too Syl. Roger and the kids 
might like to tour some of the sights." God was I actually inviting 
her other half and those three demons she called sons to visit 
me? I *was* getting soft.
"We'd love that, Walter," Sylvia waved as she got in the 
passenger side.
"Yes, Walter, that would be just fine," my Mother added.
I watched the car pull away from the curb. I turned my back to 
the buildings and pulled my handkerchief out of my pocket. I 
needed to wipe my eyes and my glasses and well... ok...shoot 
me. I didn't want Mulder or Scully to see me do it. Might be bad 
for the rep if they saw the hard as nails A.D. leaking tears all 
over his lenses wouldn't it? I finished up with the snot rag and 
stuck it back into my pocket. Squaring my shoulders I headed 
towards the bookstore to roust my two agents.
xXx
Mulder and Scully were sitting in her room at the Red Roof Inn 
looking at the list of restaurants within walking distance. It was a 
gorgeous fall evening and they wanted to get out and stretch 
their legs after spending the better part of the afternoon sitting at 
the conference. Skinner had left for dinner with Jim Moriarity. 
Scully had just handed the restaurant list to Mulder so that he 
could study it.
"So, we could have taken the car I guess. But I was so proud of 
you, Mulder when you turned down his offer," Scully told her 
partner, warmth in her voice.
"Yeah, well. You did say I should try to help him relax. I figured 
not taking the car would give him some independence in case 
his talk with his old army buddy goes down the commode. He 
can always leave when he needs to if he has the car," Mulder 
replied with a little shrug and a small grin. 
"I hope the reunion doesn't turn out to be bad. They seemed to 
be on friendly terms after the conference. Skinner didn't 
hesitate to accept his offer to have dinner with him," Scully 
smiled back.
"He did seem anxious to talk with Moriarity. I guess we just 
have to hope it goes well," Mulder added pursing his lips.
"I just hope he doesn't bring up all that stuff about Moriarity 
coming on to me. I made it clear that it hadn't been serious. 
Annoying, but harmless really," Scully added with a sigh.
"Well, if he brings it up he's asking for trouble I'd say. But I have 
to admit I was grateful that he rescued you the other night. God, 
I knew that asshole was going to try something. I was stuck and 
I lost sight of you."
"Stuck? Are you sure Mulder? You were surrounded by 
women."
"Surrounded by 60 something faculty wives."
"And Alexis Johnson." 
"Oh you saw her too did you?"
"It's the reason I didn't bail you out Mulder. I thought she made 
up for the faculty wives." 
"She scared the shit out of me, Scully. I wish you'd rescued 
*me*. God. And they talk about men having eight arms like an 
octopus. I've never been felt up so much in my life. I'll tell you 
she was an expert."
"I figured you could handle yourself Mulder. And if you ask me, 
I reaped the benefits of all that personalized groping later didn't 
I?"
"No kidding," Mulder replied chuckling a bit. Yeah he'd been 
more than half way horny when they'd gotten back to the Inn. 
He had been monumentally relieved when Scully had waved 
*The Rule* in such a spectacular manner.
"At any rate, I guess it *is* lucky Skinner has the car. I'm just 
going to keep my fingers crossed that everything goes well for 
him tonight."
"Yeah, maybe we'll get lucky and he'll get happily shitfaced and 
never make it back to the hotel," Mulder smirked.
"So, you're expecting me to wave *The Rule* again tonight?" 
Scully asked.
"Hoping. But, hell - don't worry about it. We can just watch TV 
or something. I...I don't want you to think..."
"Mulder, Let's just see how it goes, all right? Last night was...well 
it was wonderful but a little risky you know. I should have been 
more...well we could have used a little restraint I think."
"It was more than wonderful for me Scully. But look if you're 
uncomfortable with our being together under these 
circumstances, I can respect your feelings. I never want you to 
feel pressured to have sex. I mean just because I'm such a 
horny bastard doesn't mean you have to jump to it every time I 
suggest we rock and roll. You know that don't you?"
"Believe me, Mulder, I have no problem telling you if I'm not in 
the mood. You have a very poor short term memory 
sometimes. It amazes me."
Mulder grinned sheepishly, "Oh yeah, I guess so. But seriously. 
If you consider this too much of a Bureau function to wave *The 
Rule* again I'll understand." 
"Well, let's just see how it goes, Mulder. I have to admit I'm 
ambivalent about this trip. Skinner's seeing his family and old 
friend stretch the business boundary I guess. So, I'll give it some 
thought," she replied with a little smile.
"Did you see anything on here that interested you, Scully?" 
Mulder flipped the restaurant guide page over.
"Italian didn't sound too bad. There's an Italian restaurant about 
3 blocks up. *The Calderone Club*."
"I see that here. Sure, let's do Italian. I'm in the mood for some 
meatballs."
"OK. I just want to freshen up a little and then we'll go. How 
does that sound?"
"Sounds like a plan to me, Scully."
xXx
I followed Jim Moriarity to a Thai restaurant that he said was 
excellent. A lot of guys could never bring themselves to eat 
Asian food of any kind after they got back home from Nam. I 
never had a problem. In fact I developed quite a taste for Asian 
cuisine. Jim ate it like there was no tomorrow. So, it was going 
to be Thai home cooking for our little reunion. I had a few things 
I wanted to talk to Jim Moriarity about. I just hoped we'd still be 
friends when we got done.
We started out the evening in the bar while we waited for our 
table to be cleared and reset. I ordered a beer but was 
determined to nurse it. I wanted to remain sober tonight. I 
thought it would be a good idea to have my wits intact.
So, we're sitting in the bar. Jim's drinking a Coke. I'm sipping 
my beer. Jim opens up the conversation.
"Walter I have to thank you for making this conference a 
success. I have to thank all of you really. And I was glad you 
got to spend some time with your Mother and Sister too. Your 
Mother looked great, by the way. She looked liked she enjoyed 
herself."
"Thanks Jim. I think we got a good reception. There were some 
very promising candidates for the Academy as well. Wouldn't 
surprise me to see them working for me at some point. And 
thanks too for complimenting my Mother. She's had a little 
trouble with her arthritis but she's coping. Both she and my 
Sister enjoyed the conference."
"Well, you've had a real nice visit."
We were silent for a few moments. I could tell Jim had 
something on his mind he wanted to say but he wasn't ready to 
cough it up. I bided my time. I can have the patience of Job 
when necessary.
Presently the waitress came and informed us that our table was 
ready. We took our drinks and headed for the dining room.
We were ushered to a very private booth near the back of the 
room. Nice and quiet. Made for talking over old times.
We ordered some appetizers and our meals as well to be 
brought after we'd eaten the appetizers. As soon as the waitress 
disappeared The Professor started talking.
"Walter, listen. I want to apologize right up front here."
"Apologize for what?" I asked. I had a clue, but you could never 
be sure with Jim. He used to be a real bullshitter.
"I want to tell you I was sorry I came on to Dana Scully like I did 
earlier. Crap. I guess I made a fool out of myself there. 
Sometimes I just don't see the forest for the trees, my man. I 
had no idea she was all ready taken. So, I'm sorry."
"All ready taken?" Now I *was* confused. What the fuck?
"I mean I didn't realize that you and she were an item. I mean I 
would never have even tried if..."
"Dana Scully and me? What?"
"That she's with you. Isn't she with you, Walter?" Jim asked all 
innocence. He was sincere. I had noticed he'd stopped paying 
any attention to her whatsoever. I thought it was a little strange 
since he'd been so hot to trot on Saturday night. 
I could feel my jaw clenching. I hoped to God Scully or Mulder 
hadn't made up this story to get Scully away from Jim's 
clutches. I'd be pissed as hell if one of them used me in such an 
outrageous lie.
"Jim, I'm not with Dana Scully. Who told you I was with her?"
"No one told me, big guy. I just assumed you were together 
when I saw the way you danced with her out on the patio last 
night. Today at the conference you couldn't take your eyes off 
her and then you had your hand on the small of her back 
afterwards. She's quite a woman. I could tell she had no interest 
in me at all, Sinner. I just figured you were taking good care of 
her. You mean she's not..."
Did I have my hand on her? Christ I couldn't even remember. 
Oh yeah, I had touched her because she had been talking to 
my Mother and Mulder was trying to get her attention about 
something. She didn't notice his gesturing so I put my hand on 
the small of her back to get her attention. God! So Jim thought I 
was touching her intimately? Well shit.
Mulder had stage nerves I thought because she went over and 
laughed at him for a second and then adjusted his tie. I had 
watched them closely. All right. I had been watching her closely. 
It's why I really ground my finger into that cut on my leg. I had 
been having impure thoughts as the chaplain in Nam would say. 
Yeah, well - sue me. They disappeared real fast when I pressed 
on that Band-aid.
But Jim had interpreted my desires rather accurately. The only 
trouble was I wasn't involved with her and couldn't be, ever. I 
had to clear up this misconception damn quick.
"Jim, Dana Scully and I aren't in any kind of relationship other 
than professional. She is one of my agents. I don't fuck my 
agents. It's against every rule in the book. You don't screw your 
students do you? It's the same principle."
I knew I was taking a chance with that last remark but I wanted 
to give him the benefit of the doubt in that area.
"I haven't touched a student in my entire career Walter. I 
appreciate you giving me credit for that," Jim answered, "But 
you're serious, you're not screwing her?" 
"I'm serious. I am not sleeping with her. I don't even know who 
she is sleeping with and I don't care. Her personal life is her own 
business."
"Well, it was pretty clear she wasn't interested in me. Maybe 
she does have someone else." 
"It wouldn't surprise me. She's a beautiful, intelligent woman. 
Someone probably snapped her up a long time ago." Even as I 
said it I thought to myself - you know you've never seen Dana 
Scully with anyone have you? Hmmmm. Well, like I said it 
really wasn't any of my business. Little did I know. 
"Well, I guess I'll apologize for jumping to conclusions. I knew 
you were divorced. Heard that through the grapevine. I just 
thought you might have gotten lucky. Like I said - she's 
something."
"Yeah, she's a great agent, Jim. A first rate agent and 
pathologist. She and Mulder are a good team. One of the 
highest solve rates at the Bureau."
The waitress brought our appetizers. I took a healthy sip of my 
beer. The glass was getting empty so I ordered a second to 
further take the taste of sexual innuendo out of my mouth. John 
ordered another Coke.
"Mulder! Jesus, Walter. I had never seen a photo of him. I 
couldn't get over how much he looked like old Cracker Rand. 
Like Cracker would have looked I mean...if he had made it 
back home," Jim added more quietly.
I looked down at my hands. Fuck. Why did he have to bring up 
something like that right now. I struggled to swallow the 
appetizer I had just put in my mouth. 
"I'm sorry, Sinner. I know John's a painful subject. I should have 
kept my mouth shut. Shit. I'm going to ruin this evening in a 
minute. Or spend most of it apologizing for my stupid social 
gaffs." Jim shook his head and stared down at his plate.
I could tell he was just trying to connect somehow with me now. 
We were out of practice at it. We hadn't seen each other in so 
long we hardly knew what to say and how to say it any more.
"Look, Professor, it's ok. We can talk about the war. I...it's hard 
but I can manage it. I know Mulder looks like Cracker. The 
resemblance is uncanny, really. I have to deal with that every 
day. John was a good friend. Hell, he liked you too you know. 
And I don't mean just because you sold the best weed over 
there. I mean he thought of you as a friend, Jim. Just like I did. 
Just like I do now." I looked over at him. He was smiling a little 
and I noticed his eyes were a little misty. Hell. 
"Walter. I'm so glad to hear you say that. I just thought maybe 
I'd blown it with Scully, and we haven't kept in touch. You know 
I thought maybe you didn't want to see me...because of the bad 
memories."
"Hell no, I'm just a workaholic, Jim. I've lost touch with lots of 
people. My family. My wife too. Fuck, that's the main reason 
we got divorced. No communication. I...I just wouldn't let her in. 
I expect that was the war too. I've had enough counseling now 
to know it. If I ever do meet someone again that I want a 
relationship with I'm sure as hell going to try to connect with 
them better than I did with my first wife. God. What a fucking 
disaster."
"I got some counseling when I got back stateside too, Walter. 
Mostly to kick the drugs. You know I got started on heroin over 
there didn't you?"
"No, Jim I didn't know that, I'm sorry."
"Yeah, I didn't have a real habit when I got home. But I was 
scared I was going to develop one. Lucky for me there weren't 
too many places you could get heroin on a farm in Iowa. I 
ended up in Boise in detox, though. After that I got cleaned up."
"Cracker and I stuck to the pot. I never did anything harder and 
when I got wounded that was the end of all of that anyway. I 
was in too much pain and too sick for too long to even think 
about drugs. I got enough for free anyway."
We both laughed a little at that remark. I had so many tubes 
hanging out of me in the MASH unit that Jim said I looked like a 
still for making sipping whiskey. I had felt more like a pin 
cushion at the time. Half the IVs were pumping painkiller into 
me I thought. I had been stoned most of the time and it was all 
nice and legal.
We polished off the appetizers and the waitress brought my 
second beer. That was it on the beer for me. It was Thai beer, 
and strong. I could feel it hitting my head. Somehow the 
conversation turned back around to Cracker Rand. 
"Yeah, Cracker was a hell of a poker player too." Jim was 
saying, "He'd put on that dumb hillbilly act and then he'd take 
half the new meat in the supply unit for a months pay. He was 
one fucking smart Georgia Cracker, I'll tell you."
"Cracker was special," I answered quietly. I spoke before I 
thought about it and I knew I had put too much of the wrong 
kind of emotion in my voice the minute I spoke. But, it was too 
late and what Jim said next told me as much.
"Listen, Sinner. I want to ask you something and please don't 
take offense, OK. And if you want to tell me to go to hell that's 
fine. But I gotta ask because it's been bugging me for a long 
time."
"What's that, Professor?" 
"Were you and Cracker, uh, were you lovers in Nam? Look, I 
have reasons for asking. And don't worry I'm not going to tell 
anyone what your answer is no matter what you tell me. The 
first reason will give you an idea why that's true."
I just stared at him slack jawed because quite frankly, I couldn't 
even believe what I had just heard. That he had the guts to ask 
me. I mean it's a little bit of a shock to be outed after 20 plus 
years for your affair with a dead man. Jim took my amazed 
silence as permission to keep talking. 
"The first reason stems from the fact that Dana Scully wasn't 
the first person I thought I found out you were involved with 
after I tried to get it on with them. I mean I tried to seduce John 
one night. Hell, I was so wasted I would have poked a jeep if I 
could have gotten the gas cap off. I was too wasted even to do 
that though. You know how it was over there sometimes. You 
were horny as hell and there weren't enough women when you 
needed one. I'd gotten sick of jerking off. At any rate, I don't 
know - Cracker just looked good that night, so I asked him if he 
wanted me to blow him. I told him I'd do him if he'd do me too. 
He told me in no uncertain terms that he was involved with 
someone all ready and he wasn't interested in The Professor's 
lessons in love - no way, no how. He wouldn't tell me who 
though."
"And how did you come to the conclusion it was me?" I asked 
finally finding my voice. It came out in a croak. I took a drink of 
my beer to clear my throat.
"You two were pretty much inseparable. There was a lot of talk. 
But no one was willing to say anything negative or derogatory 
about either of you. Too many people liked Cracker because he 
was just a nice, easy going kid. Too many people were afraid of 
you Sinner. Shit, I was your friend, your good buddy, and I was 
afraid of you. You were mean as hell and twice as hot when 
you wanted to be, Walter. I thought if I crossed you by asking 
about you and John I'd die from friendly fire, your friendly fire, 
some day. Or maybe you'd break me in half with your bare 
hands."
I looked into his face and I thought, "What the hell can I say to 
him?"
"You said there were reasons - plural?" I asked quietly.
"Another reason was because when you were in the MASH unit 
and delirious you kept yelling for Cracker. I was at your bedside 
a lot, Walter. I have to tell you one night when we were alone in 
there except for a nurse you didn't leave anything up to the 
imagination. The nurse heard it all too. But she was a good kid. I 
was balling her so I knew she wasn't going to say anything if I 
asked her. So, I figured either you and John were lover's or you 
had one hell of a vividly erotic imagination." 
I took a sip of my beer and put it down. I weighed the odds. I 
was probably going to make the biggest mistake of my life 
because I *was* going to get things off my chest. I wasn't 
comfortable with the admission, but what the fuck. I was going 
to make it anyway.
"Cracker and I were lovers," I said simply, "part of me died 
when he did, Jim. It's not something I find easy to talk about at 
all. I...I'd appreciate it if we can drop the subject now. I've told 
you what you wanted to know. Can we just talk about 
something else?"
It was the truth. Every word of it. Maybe I didn't realize it before 
but when I uttered the words I knew it. I had loved two people in 
my life who weren't my immediate family. One had been 
Sharon, my now ex-wife, and the other had been John Rand. I 
felt bereft the minute I uttered the words as well. Ill, and lonely 
and sick to my stomach. I only knew one remedy for that 
feeling. I caught the waitresses eye and beckoned for her to 
come over.
"Do you have bourbon in the bar?" I asked. They did and it was 
my brand. I ordered a bourbon. Jim took one look at my face 
and ordered one too.
"Walter I just want to let you know I won't say anything to 
anyone about what you just told me. And look, I had an ulterior 
motive for finding it out."
Now what? I thought. Please don't tell me that you're gay, Jim, 
and you want to sleep with me too because I don't think I'm 
going to be able to stand it.
Jim took an envelope out of his pocket and placed it down on 
the table. I could see my name on the front. It was faded a little 
but written in ball-point in a fine, strong, young hand. It was 
Cracker's handwriting. I recognized it right away.
"Cracker gave me this letter the day before you went on that 
last mission, Walter. Actually he gave me several letters to 
different people in his family. I mailed all those when I got back 
with a letter of my own to explain why they were getting a letter 
from their dead son, brother and grandson. But this one - I 
couldn't bring myself to give it to you. You were so out of it for 
so long in the MASH unit. When you finally came round I didn't 
think you needed to remember what had just happened right 
away. So, I held onto the letter. Then they shipped you stateside 
and it was too late to give it to you. When I got home I just never 
mailed it. I couldn't. I wanted to look you up and give it to you in 
person because...well, I suspected you too were close and...well 
shit. I didn't want to just think about you getting it in the mail. 
Then I lost the damn thing while I was going through detox. I 
forgot about it until recently. I found it just before I called you to 
ask you here."
I touched the letter and then I picked it up. I turned it over in my 
hands and tested it's weight. It wasn't very heavy but it's 
physical weight had nothing to do with how heavy it weighed on 
me. I put the letter inside my suit coat into the inner pocket, next 
to my heart.
"Thank you, Jim. I appreciate you making the effort to get this 
to me. I can understand you not wanting to mail it. I don't blame 
you for losing it." 
I didn't know what else to say. The waitress brought our 
bourbons but neither of us felt like touching them. I didn't even 
finish my beer. We sat and talked some more. We finished our 
meal and ordered coffee. The rest of the evening passed fairly 
routinely. We tried to make it more upbeat. We ended up 
reminiscing about some of the really funny things that had 
happened to us over the years since the war. Yeah. I had some 
funny stories to contribute. I also told him a little about the FBI 
and a couple of interesting cases I'd been on before I was 
promoted to pencil pushing. 
By the time we were ready to leave the restaurant I felt 
marginally better even though John's letter rested heavily in my 
pocket. I decided to drive despite the beer. I'd really only had 
what amounted to one, hours ago. The rest of the alcohol had 
stayed untouched. I saw Jim to his car and then watched him 
drive off into the night. I walked to the rental, unlocked the door 
and got in. I almost took the letter out of my pocket and read it 
right there in the car. But then I reconsidered that idea. I decided 
reading it in the privacy of my hotel room might be a better idea. 
I put the key in the ignition and turned it. 
xXx
Fox Mulder glanced at his watch as he and Scully walked back 
towards their rooms at the Inn. 20 minutes to 10, he thought. 
Great. Plenty of time to relax and watch some TV before either 
going to sleep or having some fun. If it was only going to bed to 
sleep he didn't really care. They'd had a fun evening all ready. It 
had been a great dinner. The restaurant served a superb plate 
of spaghetti and meatballs and both agents had opted for the 
traditional fare as a benchmark test of the restaurants abilities. It 
had always been Mulder's belief that if an Italian restaurant 
could make decent pasta and meatballs the rest of the menu 
was likely to be outstanding as well. If the establishment passed 
the test he'd file it away as a good place to eat if he and Scully 
ever returned to the area on an X-File.
They'd laughed and talked and Mulder marveled once again in 
the woman he was lucky enough to be with now in both body 
and soul. Dana Scully was a true soulmate. There was no 
question. He just enjoyed her company so much. The sharing of 
jokes, and all the intense intellectual discussions where they 
fought like hell in debate sometimes were almost more 
pleasurable than the moments they pleasured each other in 
bed. She just had a mind like a steel trap. Like lightening 
illuminating the sky on a dark summer night. He relished the 
challenge of keeping up with her intellectually. It kept him sharp 
and honest, and God it was just so much fun to get her going. A 
guilty pleasure to watch her match his theories with those of her 
own and give him better than he gave sometimes. It was part of 
her charm and part of her sexual allure as well. Yes sir, there 
was nothing sexier than a brilliant mind as far as Fox Mulder 
was concerned. And in that respect as well as others, Dana 
Scully was a sex Goddess.
They reached her door and Mulder took her hand, "Good night, 
Scully. I'll see you in the morning. It was a great meal. I think we 
can put that place in the *revisit file*."
Scully looked up into his eyes. Mulder looked back. Ok, so it's 
going to be more fun maybe? he thought as he squeezed her 
hand slightly. He glanced around the parking lot. He didn't see 
the rental so it looked like Skinner hadn't gotten back yet. 
Maybe they would get lucky and he'd opt to stay at Moriarity's 
house for the night. In any event, the fact that he wasn't back 
yet might give them some time to get in a little recreation before 
he did return.
Scully noticed Mulder looking around the lot. She smiled. She 
new exactly what was on his mind. Ok, so it was on her mind 
too. "Well, what the hell," she thought. 
"Mulder why don't you come in for a while. I mean - they're 
continuing scifi week on AMC aren't they? Wasn't *The Giant 
Whatzit* on tonight? We might as well watch whatever was 
going to be on together."
"The Giant Whatzit?" Mulder laughed releasing her hand so she 
could get her room key out. 
"I forgot the title for the deathless classic that's airing tonight, 
OK? I don't know how you remember all those ridiculous titles, 
Mulder. Wait, cancel that I forgot..."
"Right, Eidetic memory. *The Giant Behemoth* was one of the 
movies airing tonight Scully. I think *The Giant Whatzit* was in a 
Woody Allen movie though."
Scully laughed too, "Right. I think I might have seen that one."
"My Scully, you never cease to amaze me with these little 
revelations."
"It's just part of my mystique, Mulder. I pride myself on being a 
woman of mystery on 
occasion," Scully replied as she got the door open and walked 
inside.
Mulder followed her in. He took off his suit coat and placed it 
over the back of a chair. Scully took off her tailored suit coat as 
well. She had opted for the tailored coat and skirt outfits on this 
trip because she wanted to look a little dressy as well as 
professional at the symposium. Mulder enjoyed the view for 
sure. She kicked off her shoes and then walked towards the 
closet.
"I'm just going to shower before I change into my night clothes, 
Mulder," she said over her shoulder as she rummaged around 
for her pajamas. Mulder had to laugh. She still wore 
conservative little pjs very similar to the ones she'd worn the 
first night they'd been together in her apartment. It didn't matter. 
She'd look beautiful in a burlap sack. Mulder assumed she wore 
the pjs out of sentiment. *He* was sentimental about them after 
all. She had worn them for him the first time they'd made love in 
her bed. He'd always have a special feeling for those little 
powder blue pjs.
Mulder kicked off his shoes as well and loosened his tie. He 
retrieved the remote from the top of the TV set and sat down on 
the bed. He flicked the on button and the TV powered up. Of 
course it was still tuned to AMC. *The Giant Behemoth* was 
about to start. Mulder's eyes zeroed in on the tube. They almost 
seemed to glaze over.
"Take your time Scully. I'm just going to catch the start of this 
movie," he replied distantly.
Scully smiled, "He's just like a kid when it comes to these films," 
she thought. She turned and entered the bathroom as Mulder 
shifted back up onto the bed and fluffed up the pillows against 
the headboard.
Mulder was watching the movie and then he heard the water 
running in the shower. His attention was drawn away from *The 
Giant Behemoth* rather quickly. As the mammoth lizard 
rumbled across the screen Mulder got up and put the remote on 
top of the TV and turned the sound down slightly. He decided he 
had a better diversion in mind. The TV would take care of some 
of the noise. But before he headed into the bathroom he 
glanced over at the connecting doors. He hadn't heard Skinner 
come back. I was 10:30. Maybe he wasn't coming back. But 
what if he had and he hadn't heard him. Shit. Mulder walked 
over to the connecting doors and stood there thinking for a 
minute. He came to his decision. He stepped forward and 
opened the door on Scully's side. He very gently pushed the 
door on Skinner's side so that it moved just a fraction. He 
peered inside. Empty. Good. So the old man was still out 
carousing. Well, he wished him the best and really did hope he 
was having a good time. He pulled the door shut and then he 
shut Scully's as well. He locked the door on her side and started 
to walk to the bathroom, unbuttoning his shirt. He never heard 
the defective lock try valiantly but fail to lock tight again.
Dana Scully stood under the hot shower water and stretched in 
the steam. The water was exquisitely hot and soothing. Her 
muscles had been a little stiff after sitting again all day at the 
symposium. The walk to and from the restaurant had helped but 
this was really doing the trick on getting her muscles to relax. 
She soaped up a washcloth and started to run the soap over her 
neck and down onto her breasts.
"Can I help you wash your back, Agent Scully?" Mulder said as 
he pulled the shower curtain aside.
"Scully turned in the spray to see Mulder standing naked outside 
the tub. She smiled. "Well, I guess that makes up my mind," she 
thought.
"Certainly, Agent Mulder. I'd appreciate it. Come on in here 
before the water gets all over the floor," she replied.
Mulder climbed in next to her and took the wash cloth she had 
been using from her hands. He soaped it up with some 
additional shower gel and gestured for her to turn around. She 
did so and he began to lather her back.
"Mulder. Did Skinner come back?" she asked. She was still a 
little nervous about him being in the room next door. She knew 
that the direction they were obviously heading here would 
necessitate a little discretion on their parts. They wouldn't be 
able to howl at the moon as loudly if Skinner had returned from 
dinner.
"No," Mulder replied soaping her ass, "he wasn't in his room. I 
checked through the connecting doors."
Scully spun around under his hands. The wash cloth ended up 
in her crotch. Mulder kept right on soaping her up.
"You checked? Mulder that was risky."
"Risky?" Mulder smiled as he rubbed the wash cloth over her 
pubic hair, "I don't think so. After all - I am an FBI agent. And 
gee, you know what...I know how to do covert surveillance and 
everything, Agent Scully. I even locked the connecting door on 
your side," he added as he stroked Scully with the washcloth.
"Oh. Well, Ok. Thank you," she grinned back. She was really 
beginning to be glad Skinner wasn't back yet. Mulder had 
dropped the wash cloth to the floor of the tub and now he was 
washing her with just his hands. 
"Turn around and rinse off, Scully," he said. "Rinse off really 
good, OK?" he beamed down at her. She glanced down 
between his legs. He was as hard as a rock. She smiled back 
up at him.
"Turn around?"
"Uh, yeah. If you don't mind."
"No, I don't mind Mulder," she knew he liked her ass. She could 
guess what he wanted her to do. She turned in the spray and 
rinsed between her legs very carefully. Mulder placed one hand 
on her hip. He snaked the other hand down between her legs 
from behind and began to run his fingers over her cunt. She 
pushed her ass back against his cock and ground against him.
"Oh Scully..." he moaned as he rubbed between her legs.
"That feels good," she hissed as he began to stroke her clit with 
his long graceful fingers. 
"I want you to get off first Scully. I want to give you this first," he 
whispered as he leaned against her. The warmth of the water 
combined with the warmth of his body and his hard cock 
pressing against her ass thrilled her. She was tremendously wet 
between her legs and it wasn't only shower water.
"Oh, God! You are so good at this, Mulder," she groaned as he 
worked two fingers into her and picked up the speed of his 
pumping inside and without as well. She was tensing all ready 
for an orgasm and Mulder knew just how to get her there and 
over the top just the way she liked it.
She collapsed forward slightly and braced herself against the 
wall of the shower stall with her hands as her climax ripped 
though her, "Uhhhhhhh," she moaned incoherently. Her hips 
bucked wildly against his hand.
"That's it, that's it," Mulder hissed as he kissed her back, "I love 
you. You feel so good." 
"Oh dear Lord," she panted as the last of her spasm shook her. 
Her hips slowed their pumping motion. She straightened up 
slightly so she could catch her breath.
Mulder held her waist for a moment with both his strong hands 
as her breathing came back to normal.
"Are you all right?" he asked gently. He stroked her hip with one 
hand.
"Good God, Yes."
"Well, I guess I knew you were all right," she could hear the 
smirk in his voice. "What I meant to ask was - Are you ready?" 
he added huskily. She felt him press his cock against her.
"Go for it, Mulder. I want you inside as deep as you can get. I 
want you to fuck me hard and fast and don't hold back. God, I 
want your cock. Just do it."
Mulder let out a low groan and Scully bent forward again and 
braced her legs as well as her hands against the shower stall.
Mulder thrust into her as carefully as he could. He was large 
and he'd always been a little worried about hurting her if he 
hurried. Despite her request he didn't want to go in too eagerly 
and risk causing her any pain. To his surprise she jackknifed 
back against him and he plunged into her hard, fast and right up 
to his balls.
"Jesus," he groaned. She was still tight, so tight. She had 
amazing muscle control really. It was unbelievable. He gripped 
her hips and thought what the hell. She wants it I'll give it to her. 
He drew back and rammed into her as hard as he thought it 
was safe to ram.
"GGGoood. Oh yeah, tttthat's it," she stammered as he drew 
back and thrust in again. He held her hips and both of them 
slammed back and forth until they were in the same pounding 
rhythm. It was a total hard, ball breaking, cunt crushing fuck, 
and Mulder was loving it. But he was still a little concerned for 
his partner.
"Ssscully," he managed to gasp out slowing his thrusts slightly, 
"should I slow down. I...God, you're not gonna be able to walk in 
the morning..."
"If you slow down I'll shoot you again," she gasped, laughing.
"Oh ssshit..." he laughed, and then he picked up the pace again 
because he knew he was close to coming.
Scully was still laughing with pleasure as he threw himself 
against her ass for three more tremendous pumps and then he 
stifled his own scream as he came in a torrential gush.
"Oh fuck, Oh fuck," he cried out as she squeezed his spurting 
cock. Both of them got weak in the knees almost 
simultaneously and Mulder lowered them down in a laughing 
heap, Scully cradled in his lap on the tub's floor. 
xXx
I turned the key in the ignition and nothing happened. No click 
and no pleasant rumbling of a combustion engine. There wasn't 
so much as a fart through the exhaust pipe to indicate that the 
engine felt like turning over.
"Fuck!" I swore. Just what I need. I glanced at my watch. It was 
10:00. Wonderful. Here I am on the street in some burb of 
Ambler PA with a dead car and a letter I'm dying to read from 
my dead lover in my pocket. What a shitty situation. I debated 
what to do next. The restaurant was still open. I decided to go in, 
use my cell phone to call Triple A and see how long it would 
take to get help. 
Triple A was polite but noncommittal. It was a busy night 
evidently with the convention still in town. They promised an 
hour. I figured more like two. Ok. So that meant I might be back 
in my room at 1 AM if I was lucky. Piss on it.
The owners of the restaurant were kind enough to let me wait 
inside. They closed at midnight so I only hoped the tow truck 
arrived before then. I didn't look forward to sitting in my stalled 
car. It had gotten a little chilly out. I was half tempted to read 
John's letter while I waited. I decided once again to forestall 
reading it. I knew it was going to be a emotional moment for me 
and I really did want to be alone when I read it. So, I opted for a 
newspaper out of the machine in the lobby. Lucky it was 
Sunday. The paper was nice and thick.
The Triple A guy arrived at 11:15. Better than I expected. He 
advised me that it was most likely the battery in the rental. He 
grouched a little at poor car rental agency maintenance 
programs. This was the fourth rental he'd had to service that 
night he said. He hooked up the cables to recharge the battery. I 
got in and tried to start the engine again. Nothing. The Triple A 
guy frowned and came back to the car.
"Ok, sir. I think we're talking something a little more serious than 
a battery here. It might be an electrical problem, or the starter. 
Look, I can tow it into my garage tonight and take a look at it in 
the morning. Or I can just call the rental agency at the airport 
and have them come and get it." 
"Just tow it in. I'll contact the rental agency myself and tell them 
where the incredible hulk is resting. I'm flying out tomorrow 
anyway so I'll be at the airport. I can talk to them in person. 
Thanks. Do you have a card with the garage's number on it?"
The Triple A guy gave me his card and I gave him mine as well 
in case there was any question. He raised an eyebrow when he 
saw the official FBI logo. He asked me if it was real. I had to 
laugh. I showed him my ID. He was a funny guy. He told me to 
give the rental agency hell for stranding a fucking Assistant 
Director of the FBI on the roadside. I told him I'd make sure 
they got the point.
As I watched him pull away I got my cell phone out of my 
pocket and went back to see if the restaurant owner's could 
give me the number for a local cab company. Once again they 
had been considerate. It was midnight but they had kept the 
door open expecting I might still need to wait, or use the 
bathroom. They gave me the number for the cab and I dialed 
the number.
xXx
"Mulder, I'm hungry," Scully said. 
"Hungry? Well, if you had finished your spaghetti at dinner 
maybe you wouldn't be starving 
now," he replied giving her a gentle poke in the ribs to tease her. 
She'd complained about the portion being way to much for her 
at dinner. He of course had finished every last bite of meatball. 
"Well, I am hungry. I guess you're right. I should have forced 
down all that pasta earlier," she said as she stretched next to 
him on the bed. She had put her little blue pjs on and Mulder 
had pulled his boxers and t-shirt back on. They were both 
watching AMC again. The station was showing *X, The 
Unknown* now, and my goodness Mulder couldn't miss that 
one, even though he'd seen it at least a dozen times before.
Some kind of radioactive blob was crawling across the English 
countryside and he was entranced as Scully's stomach 
growled.
"But listen to my stomach. I'm wasting away. Let's go over to 
the restaurant and have some of that pie you liked so much."
Mulder glanced down at Scully. She looked so pretty. The blue 
of the conservative pjs complimented her eyes.
"You're really hungry aren't you?" he grinned.
"Yes, after that work out you just gave me I'm starving. If I'd 
known you were practically going to pound me through the 
shower wall I would have packed all those carbs in at dinner."
"Hey, it was *your* special request Ms. *I'll shoot you again if 
you stop* Scully. I thought I was going to pull a butt muscle I 
was slamming you so hard." 
"It was tremendous, Mulder. Really. I know I asked for it. And I 
loved every inch too," she giggled slightly patting the front of his 
boxers.
"Well, I was just a little worried you'd be bow legged afterwards 
Scully. I mean, hell I'd never want to hurt you. Even if it felt as 
good as it did."
"Oh, Mulder...don't worry...I won't break. I know my limits. If I'd 
been in pain I would have let you know. It was the best - I really 
mean it. And as far as walking goes. I'd have no trouble walking 
over to the restaurant for that piece of pie."
"Ok, I get the hint. Are you sure the restaurant is open this late?"
"It's only midnight. The sign outside said they were open until 2 
AM."
"Okie Dokie, pie coming right up. Get dressed," Mulder replied 
smiling at her. He flicked the off button on the remote. Scully 
shifted to get off the bed but before she did she planted a big 
smooch on his cheek.
"Thanks, Mulder, you're an angel."
"You're my angel, Scully. No problem. And besides, they have 
really good blueberry pie here," he added as he got up to find 
his pants.
xXx
The cab dropped me at the Red Roof Inn at a quarter to one. 
My ass was really dragging by that time. I had to piss a bucket 
too. I just wanted to get in my room, take a leak, climb into bed, 
and then read John's letter before I passed out.
I noticed Scully's lights were out when I reached my room's 
door. I was extra quiet so that I wouldn't wake her as I unlocked 
my door and slipped inside. I took my suit coat off and threw it 
across a chair back as I made a beeline for the can. Jesus it felt 
good to empty my bladder. One of these days I know my 
doctor is going to utter the words *enlarged prostate*. It wouldn't 
surprise me. But for now I was still able to hold my beer. You 
never own beer anyway - it's strictly a rental situation with that 
beverage. I shook off, rearranged things, zipped up, and 
washed my hands. I went back out into my room and stripped 
to my briefs only. I hung my clothes including the suit coat, sans 
the letter, up in the closet. I took the letter over to the bed, 
climbed in and sat there staring at it.
No sense putting if off any longer I thought. I gently pried up the 
flap of the envelope and pulled out the two folded pages. 
Cracker had really lovely handwriting. Classic penmanship. A 
hell of a lot better than mine - even mine today. I print a lot. 
There's a reason. John's script was easy to read and just flowed 
across the page. I began to read, a tight feeling all ready 
growing in my chest.
*****Dear Walter,
I should say dearest Walter or maybe My Dearest Sinner. But 
you'd probably want to boot me in the ass if I started this letter 
that way.
But, forgive me big dog. I gotta say it. You are the dearest thing 
in my heart and my mind, Sinner. I'm not ashamed to write it on 
paper. I hope you'll understand.*****
I read the first few lines and my throat was almost shutting with 
emotion. *Dearest* didn't even touch what I felt for him. God, I 
wish I had told him how much I'd really loved him more often. 
Oh sure I'd moaned how much when we were in bed together 
but I mean besides then. I read on.
***Walter I'm writing this letter because I have a really bad 
feeling about this next patrol. I just feel like, well my man, I think 
I may be seeing that little bit of heaven reserved for Georgia 
Cracker boys pretty soon. I mean I hope to God I'll be seeing 
heaven. The chaplain says I'll go to hell for fornicating with 
another man, but shit - I don't believe that crap - not really. I 
guess I should have stopped seeing that holier than thou asshole 
just like you did. You had the right idea there, Sinner.
Anyway - the fact of the matter is - I don't think I'll be coming 
back from this trip, Walter. Now, don't worry about it because I 
also know you will be coming back. I just have a feeling. I don't 
know why but that's why I'm writing you this letter now. I know 
you'll be alive to read it. And buddy, just remember - I don't 
blame you one bit for anything. All right, son? Don't be guilty. 
There was nothing either of us could do. No stopping it. What 
will be, will be, you know.*****
My hands were shaking now as I read those words. God! This 
was a friggin' case for Fox Mulder for sure. How the hell did 
John know that shit? Cold chills joined the warm tight feeling in 
my chest.
*****I just wanted to say Walter that the 18 months I've known 
you have been the most happy in my whole life. I love you and I 
know you love me too even though you weren't the most 
forthcoming man with those words of endearment. But I knew. 
You didn't need to tell me all the time. I saw it in your eyes 
every day. 
If I am damned to hell for making love to you, Walter then so be 
it, because I wouldn't have given up one time of being in your 
loving arms. You meant too much to me. And I just don't mean 
the fucking either. You were a good friend, Sinner. The best and 
don't ever forget it.
All those whores, Walter. They didn't mean a damn thing to me. 
In fact, I think I chased them and then screwed them because, 
well, because I was afraid to admit I really wanted a man to love 
- you know - if I fucked enough Vietnamese whores maybe I 
could drive those thoughts out of my mind? Well, it didn't work, 
and after I met you I didn't want pussy anymore, anyway. I just 
wanted you. So I hope you'll understand that too.*****
By this point, I could feel the hot tears forming in my eyes and 
my throat as well. I knew I was going to lose it soon. God, oh 
God I kept thinking. I more than understood what he meant. 
Except for my ex-wife there was no one I ever cared more 
about than John Rand. I loved him with all my heart and soul. I 
told him if he could hear me that I understood and he should 
never doubt I didn't. I had all I could do to finish the letter.
*****So, Sinner, in the years to come, when you think about me 
- know I loved you deeply and every moment we shared 
together gladdened my heart. You know that Stones song I was 
always singing - <Gimme Shelter>? Well, you gave me shelter 
from the storm, Walter. And that lyric about <love being just a 
kiss away>? Well that night in Saigon - you remember our first 
time together - well it was. I love you Walter. I'll love you 
forever, buddy.
Your Georgia Cracker, 
John*****
I threw the letter onto the night stand and a terrific sob just 
roared out of my chest. I curled over onto myself and tried to 
bite off the sound. Christ I didn't want Scully pounding on my 
door again. I let it out as much as I could. I felt like I wanted to 
die, and the crying jag wasn't going to stop any time soon. I took 
a couple of seconds to pull off my glasses and put them on the 
night stand as well. Then I just lay on my side in a fetal position 
and let the tears flow, and quiet sobs shake me.
After what seemed like forever I finally seemed to slack off a bit 
with the waterworks. I got up, got some Kleenex out of the box 
in the can and blew my nose. I also splashed some cold water 
in my face. I didn't look in the mirror. I knew what I looked like 
and I didn't want to see it. I went back over to the bed and got 
back under the covers. I felt a little better. It had been good to 
cry actually. I do cry you know. I mean fuck - I do have feelings 
even though I bury them as far down as I can sometimes. But 
this time I had no desire to hide them. I was alone. I wanted to 
give John my tears. It was the least I could do for him. He had 
done so much for me.
I could read between the lines of that letter. I figured Cracker 
had known what was going to happen to us but knew he was 
powerless to stop it because it was fate. You can't change fate 
and I think he knew that. It made his going on patrol that day an 
act of bravery I can barely fathom even now. He knew he was 
going to die but he knew his duty as a Marine. Complete your 
mission at all costs. But he also knew I was coming back alive. 
Maybe he took some comfort in that knowledge. I hoped so. I 
knew when he'd been shot he didn't suffer. It had been too 
quick. You don't really know what hits you with a head wound 
like he got. I just had to remember the good memories and try 
to forget the rest if the nightmares would ever let me.
And now I could think of some good memories because I knew 
also that he didn't blame me for his death. He couldn't have 
blamed me and written what he had in the letter if he hadn't 
really meant it. I knew it hadn't been my fault, or his either, that 
everyone but me died in the jungle. It was war and soldiers died 
in battle. That was the way of the world. 
I sat up and carefully folded the letter. I put it back in its 
envelope. For now I let it rest on my the night stand. I'd put it in 
my footlocker when I got back to DC. I still have my footlocker 
of course. I still have my dress uniform, including the sword, 
along with my dog tags and some other stuff I picked up over in 
Nam. And of course, all the medals. Yeah, I've got a lot of them 
- including a purple heart. So, John's letter would have a place 
of honor in my footlocker. I'd never forget him.
I turned off the night stand light and plunged the room into 
darkness. I lay back down and I tried to think about the good 
times. I devoutly prayed that I wasn't going to have another 
fucking nightmare tonight. It was the last thing I needed. As I fell 
asleep I did begin to dream. I remember it quite vividly. Do I 
ever because of what happened afterwards. It was a good 
dream for a change. I wish what happened next had been as 
good.
I was with Cracker in that Saigon hotel. This was our second 
leave together, just a weekend. Not the first time we'd been 
together by any means. We had made love once, all ready that 
night. It still sort of shocked the hell out of me that having a man 
fuck me in the ass could feel so good. I wanted John again and 
again and it still surprised me. I mean I had no idea I liked men. 
But I was finding out rapidly that I did. At least one man. And 
that was Cracker Rand.
"Waltuh, come here, buddy," he was asking me. I scooted over 
and he started to kiss me again. God he had the most sensuous 
lips. Just like Mulder's pouty lips. But he didn't pout much. He 
just knew what to do with those lips and it didn't have anything 
to do with pouting that night I can assure you.
I guess I wasn't doing such a bad job myself in the kissing 
department because he was moaning, and telling me he loved 
the way I tasted. You know, Cracker used to talk a lot in bed. I 
liked it too because it always helped me to know what he liked 
when we made love.
At any rate, I asked him what he wanted me to do for him. I 
mean he'd all ready done me and it had been fantastic. I wanted 
to make him feel as good as I had in return.
"Do you think you can do me Sinnuh? I mean inside. Ah know 
you haven't done it before but lover...Ah'd really like to feel that 
big cock of yours where it really counts, if you're willin'"
I looked him in the face and thought - Man I wasn't sure I could 
do it. I was afraid I'd hurt him. First of all I had a very vague idea 
on how to butt fuck someone based on only recent experience. 
And secondly when he said big he wasn't exaggerating. I'm not 
bragging. This is a known fact. Ask my ex-wife. But I knew I 
wanted to do it. I wanted to give him everything he wanted just 
like he'd given me everything I wanted as well.
"John, I'm willing to try. But you're going to have to talk me 
through it. I...I don't have a clue. I mean I know what you do to 
me and I can go by example. But, I don't want to hurt you."
"No problem, Waltuh. Ah can talk you down. You know Ah can 
talk, Sinnuh. Ah definitely have the gift of gab," he chuckled and 
I laughed as well. He rolled over to the rattan night stand next to 
the bed and grabbed the box of condoms and the lube that we 
had thrown over there earlier. He got the lube and the box of 
rubbers from The Professor. That supply honcho could get 
anything, anytime for free if you were a friend. I think The 
Professor got whatever nurse he was balling at the moment to 
sneak him the stuff. They probably used both themselves.
"Waltuh, Ah know Ah do you from behind. But...if you don't 
mind Ah'd like to see your face this first time. Ah mean Ah'd like 
to see your face when you come. Would that be ok big dawg?" 
he stroked my cheek with one long graceful hand. He had the 
most soft hazel eyes. I couldn't refuse him a single thing when 
he looked at me with those eyes.
"I'd like to see your face, too Cracker," I whispered.
"That's just fine," he smiled at me. I glanced down. I was semi 
erect but not quite there yet. John noticed where I was looking. 
He grinned a big grin and then his head fell in my lap. I had just 
enough time to take in a quick breath before he was sucking 
my cock. God that boy was quick when he wanted to be. I had 
to lean back and support myself with my arms on the bed as he 
worked up and down my length. Remember I told you he knew 
how to use his lips.
I was as hard as a rock in no time flat. John let go of my dick 
and he was laughing his hillbilly laugh, softly. I was laughing as 
well. He scooted over and lay down flat on the bed. I lay over 
him and we wrestled around a little. I ground my hard on against 
his cock and he got harder and harder as I rubbed against him.
"Hold on, Waltuh. If you keep that up Ah'm gonna come and Ah 
don't want to shoot my wad yet. Ah want do that when you're in 
me. Are you ready to take a shot at it?" he asked.
"Oh yeah, I'm ready," I smiled at him, "just give me an idea 
what I should do to make it good for you."
My hands were shaking a little with excitement and 
nervousness. John had to help me to put the condom on. He lay 
back down and fished around behind him for one of the down 
bed pillows. He grabbed it and shoved it up under his ass and 
hips.
"This'll help your aim, big dawg. Ah know you got good aim boy, 
but every little bit helps the shooter," he grinned at me. 
"Well, yeah, I guess it helps to raise the target sometimes," I 
replied. And he was right too because without my specs I could 
hardly see anyway and every advantage I could get would help.
"Now come on over here, stud dawg and I'll get you started."
He told me to squeeze some of the lube out onto my hands. I all 
ready knew he warmed it up for me. It was amazing how that 
stuff came out of the tube cold even in this tropical climate. I 
warmed it up good and then I smeared it over my fingers. I 
knew John always put a couple of fingers in me, maybe three 
before he went any further. He was always careful I was ready 
to take him before he put it to me. I wanted to give him the 
same consideration. So I lubed up my fingers and then his 
asshole, and in I went. I'd gotten two in without any trouble. 
John was rocking gently against my hand. His cock was 
bobbing in front of my nose. He was really enjoying just my 
fingers inside and I started to feel more confident.
"I'm gonna put a third finger in here, John. If you can take three 
I know you can at least think about taking me," I whispered.
"Sinner, Ah know Ah can take you. Ah gotta tell you this ain't 
the first time Ah've done this, son. Ah know what I can take. 
Just go ahead when you're ready."
So I hadn't been his first lover. Well, it didn't bother me. I knew I 
was the only one for him now. He'd told me as much earlier. I 
knew he wouldn't lie to me.
"Ok, one more finger though. It'll give me peace of mind," I told 
him seriously. I worked the third finger into him and a blissful 
smile lit up his face. 
"That's what Ah love about you Sinnuh. You're so thorough. But 
listen if you really want to give me a thrill, angle those fingers up 
a little." 
"Like this, Cracker?" I did as instructed and Cracker Rand 
came up off the bed like a steel spring.
"JesusGodYes!" he moaned. "God, you got the touch boy," he 
laughed, breathless.
"What the hell am I touching?" I was laughing too. I'd known 
there was something John had been doing to me to make me 
come like a rocket every time. I guess this was it.
"You're hitting my fucking prostate, Waltuh. Didn't you know 
about that thing? God, big dawg. How do you think Ah've been 
sending you to the moon when Ah do you?"
"You mean you've been doing this?" I asked and I found the 
spot again with a teasing grin on my face.
"You slut," he giggled pumping his hips against my hand. I'd 
never heard him giggle and it really tickled me too. I was just so 
happy to see him really getting off on what I could give him. 
"Waltuh, Ah can't stand it, Ah gotta have you in me now. Can 
you do that for me, Sinnuh. Please, Ah wanna feel your cock in 
me." 
God he was beautiful. He was bucking and twitching and I 
thought How in the hell am I going to get it in him like this? But 
then I realized just how things could work. I mean it's not that 
different from a woman really, especially if you and your 
woman are into this type of loving anyway. I took my fingers out 
of his ass and wiped them dry on the bedspread. I picked up the 
lube. I squeezed some more lube out and swabbed it over the 
condom, my cock, and between John's butt cheeks, in a liberal 
amount. No matter what John said about taking me I wasn't 
taking any chances that I would hurt him. I wiped my hands on 
the bedspread again and then I positioned myself between his 
legs. I lifted first one leg and then the other and then I put one 
over either shoulder. John bent his knees and shifted to get 
comfortable.
"See, Waltuh, I knew you'd catch on," John told me 
breathlessly, "Now give it to me, Sinnuh. Just do it."
I did. I put the head of my cock against that boy's asshole and 
just pushed home until I was in up to my nuts. He never made a 
sound except maybe a little moan of pleasure when I was finally 
all the way in. He was tight and it did feel good. It felt wonderful 
as a matter of fact.
"Oh God, John, this...it's so good."
"I love you Waltuh. You feel good too. The best, big dawg. Now, 
just do me. Ah know you've been with one woman, Waltuh. It's 
the same. Don't hold back either. Ah wanna feel it all, 
everything you can give."
Luckily he was right. I had lost my virginity to Maggie Flynn in 
Crossroads, Maine. We'd made love several times and I at least 
knew how that drill went. I pulled back and thrust into him 
slowly. He moaned my name.
"Do you want it slow or fast?" I asked him. I prided myself in my 
staying power. Even at that age I could keep it up pretty good. If 
he wanted it slow I could manage better than most. I learned 
that through beating off though, not with Maggie Flynn.
"Hard and fast Waltuh. Ah'm gonna die here if Ah don't come 
soon," he laughed his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He 
grabbed his cock and started to pump it. 
That did it for me. The look on his face as he did himself sent 
me over the edge into an absolute white hot sexual frenzy. I 
started to thrust into him hard and fast just as he suggested and 
God it was so marvelous. I felt like a ramrod. Like some kind of 
piston. A drill going for California crude oil. I was pumping 
against his ass so hard it felt like I could fuck him through the 
floorboards. There was no more talking then. Just flesh slapping 
against sweaty flesh and the grunts and moans of two lover's 
giving each other the most pleasure either had ever had in their 
lives up to that point. I couldn't believe the sensations that were 
coursing through my cock and then up into the rest of my body. 
It felt like I was going to have a total body orgasm and it was 
rushing towards me like a fucking tidal wave.
John found his voice for a moment, "GGGGGood" he stuttered 
out, "luv you," he just managed to groan. I angled up just a bit to 
see if I could find the spot he really liked me to hit. Evidently I 
did because he shrieked in pleasure. I could feel his balls where 
they were trapped next to me start to tense up and I knew he 
was going to shoot. He was sobbing as he came all over his 
hands and his stomach in one mighty cum geyser.
I cried out then in my own passion, "Oh Jesus, I love you 
John...Uhhhhhhhhh!" And then I rammed into him so 
powerfully, for a split second I worried I'd hurt him. But all 
thought was driven from my mind as the wave of my own 
orgasm crashed over me and I exploded, shooting cum like a 
fucking RPG. I roared an animal howl of pure pleasure and then 
I collapsed, laughing with joy, against John's bucking hips.
xXx 
Dana Scully and Fox Mulder left the Inn's restaurant at about a 
quarter to 2. They walked down towards Scully's room hand in 
hand.
"You were right about the blueberry pie," Scully said quietly as 
she kicked a small pebble ahead of her. The stone skidded off 
to the side onto the grass.
"You must have liked it a lot, you took some back for later," 
Mulder smiled at her.
"What?" she asked raising an eyebrow in confusion.
Mulder reached over and wiped the corner of her mouth with 
his finger.
"See, leftovers," he chuckled. He put his finger to his lips and 
licked the tiny bit of blueberry off.
"Oh Lord, how embarrassing," Scully blushed slightly. She had 
made a great show of eating all the pie because it really had 
been delicious. Mulder had kidded her in the restaurant about 
getting it on the tip of her nose. She thought she had gotten it all 
off her face with her napkin.
"Don't be embarrassed. I thought it was cute."
Scully just smiled her enigmatic smile and twined her fingers 
through his a little more tightly.
They reached her door. 
"I guess I'll say good night, or I should say good morning," 
Mulder pressed a soft kiss to the palm of her hand. She looked 
around a bit nervously.
"It's ok, the cars not here I looked all ready," Mulder reassured 
her.
"Well, come in then." 
"Aren't you the least bit tired, Scully?" Mulder smiled down at 
her. He ruffled her hair.
"You know Mulder, I should be. But for some reason I'm not. I 
feel invigorated. I don't have any idea why. But I don't want to 
waste the feeling. So, how about it?" Scully asked as she let go 
of his hand and pulled her room key out of her pocket.
"Hey, I'm game. We can sleep in a bit tomorrow. Skinner's 
probably going to have a hangover at this rate, anyway. I guess 
he must have stayed at his old buddy's house. I'm sure he won't 
mind if we slack off in the morning. Our flight doesn't leave until 
2 PM anyway."
Scully unlocked her door without further comment and taking 
Mulder by the hand again, pulled him inside her room with a 
gentle yank.
xXx
At first I wasn't sure what had made me wake up. Had there 
been some kind of noise? I sat upright in bed however, and 
squinted at the clock. I couldn't quite focus on its face so I 
fished around for my glasses and finding them, put them on. 
2:30 AM. Crap. I'd only been asleep for about an hour. What the 
hell had made me wake up? I wasn't sure about the noise. I 
listened and didn't hear anything. Maybe it had been the dream.
I knew I'd been having a really good dream. Oh Yeah. I felt...Oh 
shit I had an idea why I might be awake then. I had a massive 
boner. Well, after what I had been dreaming it was no wonder. I 
sighed. In this case I decided I might as well get some relief 
rather than resort to cutting myself with a Coke can to get rid of 
the arousal. What the hell. I pushed the covers back and 
shimmied out of my briefs. I put them between my legs. No 
sense in giving the maid heartburn in the morning when she had 
to change the sheets.
Just as I was about to have my conversation with Mr. Johnson I 
did hear a small thud. What the fuck? It had come from Scully's 
room. I took my hand away from my crotch and listened again. 
The thud was followed by a small moan and then a giggle.
All right, now look. I'm not proud of what happened from this 
point on, believe me. I...Well it was damned embarrassing and 
probably one of the all time low moments of my entire adult life. 
I had a lot of trouble handling what happened. We all had to 
face up to it. To tell you the truth I almost wasn't sure what to do 
about that night. I said it was embarrassing but the solution, 
even though it was something I almost thought I could admit to 
wanting, wasn't a possibility at all. At least I couldn't let it be a 
possibility. No fucking way.
At any rate, I heard the sounds and I thought I knew what was 
going on. I have to confess, ok, that since Saturday night, when 
Scully had comforted me after the nightmare, I'd been having 
waking fantasies about her more than I even wanted to 
acknowledge. Listen - I'm lonely all right. It's hard for me to 
admit that, but I am. I miss my wife terribly. I still love her. I 
know the divorce was largely my fault. It was an acrimonious 
split and I regret it every day. But we were together for 17 years 
and not all of it was bad. In fact it had been wonderful at the 
beginning. Yeah, I missed Sharon. I really missed everything 
about her but especially making love with her. She was so 
beautifully tender and sensual. And we were very much in love 
once.
So, I offer that as part of an explanation. When Scully showed 
me some compassion I guess I just magnified it ten fold. Blew it 
up into some kind of erotic fantasy to assuage my sore heart 
and my bereft mind. I needed something to make my soul feel 
whole again. Even if it was some kind of pathetic fantasy about 
one of the people I respected almost more than I respected 
myself.
When I heard those noises I figured she was over there - you 
know - over there doing herself. And hell I wanted it to be me 
over there with her. I thought if this woman didn't have anyone 
to give her a little pleasure - I'd love to be the one to step in and 
give it a try. I knew I shouldn't, couldn't do it - but I could sure as 
hell pretend it might be a possibility. And I was going to maybe 
get a chance to hear what it would be like. Yeah, I 
know...disgusting right? Well, I was at a very low emotional 
point right at that moment I think. I just let my libido get away 
from me. Maybe I wasn't the only one that did, I guess.
If I had stopped to think with my big head I might have 
remembered the layout of Scully's room. I might have 
wondered just how unorthodox Dana Scully might be if she had 
decided to get it on with herself on the dresser in a hotel room. 
Because I could hear her very well and in order for that to be 
the case she would have had to be lying on the friggin' dresser 
in the other room. That's what was behind my headboard.
But no, I didn't even stop to think. I just got off the bed and 
leaned my God damned ear against the wall so I could take it all 
in, thank you very much. Of course, by this time I was also 
working on getting off myself. Oh yes ma'am. I could hear 
Scully making little whining noises over there. God, it sounded 
hot.
So I'm pulling it, and well - all of a sudden I hear somebody 
else's voice on the other side of the wall. And unless Dana 
Scully's doing a Regan from the Exorcist it was a guy's voice. 
Fuck it. I recognized it right away. Made me drop my dick like it 
was a hot potato, let me tell you.
"God, Scully, do you know what this is doing to me?"
Christ on a crutch. Mulder. I just stood there in shock really. All 
the events of the weekend strobed in on me. I should have seen 
the signs. They had been there. God damn it. And in a way I 
wasn't surprised that they were fucking. I mean they'd been 
partnered for five years. They had been through so much 
together. They had been through hell together as a matter of 
fact. Jesus. What did I expect? It made sense that after all the 
horror they had seen together they might want just a little 
pleasure - a little connection with another warm, loving human 
being. Hell, I knew I did. 
So I stood there listening and wondering a dozen things all at 
once. Like was this the first time for them? Did they really love 
each other or was this just a one night stand? Sex with no 
commitment? So many questions really and I kept my ear to 
the wall. I had to know.
"God, Mulder you...I love it. Every time you go down on me 
it's...I can't even tell you..." 
Ok, so it wasn't the first time, I thought. Well in a way I guess 
that made me feel better because at least it gave a hint that 
maybe they weren't just having a one night stand. I mean all of 
a sudden I was torn between what I knew I had to do as my 
duty - report them - and what I wanted to do. What I wanted to 
do was let them go at it like dogs in heat so I could listen and 
come like a rocket myself. The guilt from that act would insure 
that I would never report them and I'd probably be buying a 24 
can pack of Coke the next time I was at the supermarket. Or 
maybe some razor blades.
As I was standing there with my raging hard on competing with 
my raging mind in roiling indecision, I heard them murmuring 
something else I didn't quite catch and then several soft thuds 
against the wall. Then Scully cried out. I could tell she bit off the 
sound because if she had let it rip it would have woke the dead. 
I was a little envious. It sounded like Mulder must have been 
pretty good at oral sex. But of course he did have that mouth 
and those lips. And I was more than familiar with what those 
kind of lips could do.
And then I heard her say something that pretty much made up 
my mind for me.
"I love you, Mulder...I love you so much."
I winced then. I could tell from the way she said it even through 
the wall that it was true. I had heard those words uttered by two 
people in my life. At the time they both meant it and I knew 
what true love sounded like. I had been privileged to hear those 
words on John Rand's and my wife, Sharon's lips. I know I had 
told them I loved them too and at the time I had meant it as well. 
Now I had heard Scully say it to Mulder and I knew she loved 
him just like I had loved. Body and soul. I was going to have a 
hard time reporting them. I didn't think I could do it at all.
"Scully, you're my whole world. I love you more than life itself," 
Mulder answered her. His voice was barely audible and I had to 
press my ear really tight against the wall to hear him. But he had 
said it. He sounded overcome with emotion. I always knew that 
guy had it in him. Sensitivity I mean. Figures. He must be a hell 
of a lover too. At least it sounded like it. The wall shook a little 
and it sounded like he was picking her up. It dawned on me then 
that the bed was on the other side of the room. Jesus!
Well folks, here's where I make a total fool out of myself. Hope 
you're happy. Hearing the rest of this is really going to give you 
a good laugh at my expense. But like I said I let people laugh at 
me on occasion. Especially if I rightfully deserve the ridicule. 
And I do, believe me.
I still had a massive woody and I decided - what the fuck. If 
these two were going to get it on I was going to eaves drop 
myself along for the ride. I had to do something about my dick. 
It was way beyond cold shower or Coke can time. I'd been idly 
stroking myself while I'd been trying to decide what to do about 
the situation and now I was dripping a little. So, I bowed to the 
inevitable.
I took myself and my perpendicular penis over to the 
connecting door and stood there with my ear against the wood 
on my side. I could hear them pretty clearly and I started fisting 
my cock again as I listened.
I could hear Mulder put her down on the bed. Then he must 
have swan dived or something because the bed springs 
squeaked like hell.
"Mulder...shhhh. Watch that. I'm trying to be quiet. You 
promised you would try too."
"Did I yell before? I should have you know. You almost took my 
tongue off *o tight one*." 
"How could you have made a sound with your face buried in 
my cunt?"
"Oh yeah, good point." 
Holy shit. OK, this was going to be more than interesting. I 
certainly never pictured Dana Scully talking dirty. Mulder? Well 
I expect anything out of Mulder. They didn't talk then for a while 
but I could hear all the wet noises. I knew they were getting 
down to some serious foreplay. I was getting down to some 
serious masturbation. 
I know I mentioned before that I can keep it up for a while. Well, 
I can. I wanted this to last as long as possible because quite 
frankly the whole scene was such a kinky turn on I was really 
enjoying myself. Surprising isn't it what you'll do when you're 
desperate to get off because you haven't had sex with anyone, 
not even Mr. Hand, for what seems like eons. 
At any rate, I could hear them really doing the total body 
workout thing on the other side of that door and I was bracing 
my legs apart so that I could switch to giving my balls a little 
massage just for the extra gratification. 
"Mulder, I can't wait any longer. I want you now!" Scully's voice 
broke the silence. She sounded totally breathless and erotic. I 
shut my eyes with the sensations that voice was causing to 
course through me. She sounded like a siren. A friggin' sex 
Goddess. I took a deep breath and switched back to stroking 
my dick. I hoped Mulder was a little quick on the trigger. I wasn't 
sure I was going to get the timing right. I was struggling to 
maintain control so I could come when they started to go over 
the edge. I slowed down a little and took a minute to tease some 
of my precum up over the head of my penis. If I was a little 
more slippery the lack of friction would delay things a little. I 
kept listening as I got myself wet. 
"Do you wanna be on top?" Mulder's breath was ragged and 
something in his voice sent a shiver up my spine as well. If he'd 
had a southern accent...I knew in that moment that if I let 
myself, I'd want him too. He was just enough like John Rand to 
make the idea an attractive one. Wonderful, I thought. Now I 
can toy with the idea of buying 2, 24 packs of Coke. Because 
I'll be thinking about butt fucking Fox Mulder if I'm not careful.
"No, I want to hold you, Mulder. I want to feel you on me," 
Scully answered him.
They were murmuring some other stuff then and I couldn't hear 
them well enough. And here's where I made my big mistake. I 
opened my connecting door wide and quietly placed it back 
against the wall. I was devoutly glad it didn't squeak. I leaned 
my ear against Scully's connecting door. I could hear them just 
fine then. 
Mulder must have shifted her up somehow because it sounded 
like she had her back or ass against the headboard. He had 
obviously gotten in because I could hear him moving against 
her. The flesh was starting to slap I mean. He was thrusting like 
hell. Fuck, he was pounding her into the headboard. And she 
was meeting him thrust for thrust. There wasn't anyone in his 
room next door and obviously they didn't think or care that I was 
home. So, I guess they didn't give a crap. I knew I wouldn't 
have under the circumstances. Shit, the guy sounded like a 
God damned jack hammer. And noisy!? I thought *I* made 
noise. Good Lord! He was sobbing for Christ sake. But it was 
touching really. He was moaning her name, quietly, over and 
over. It sounded like a litany. It sounded like he was worshipping 
her.
By this point I couldn't hold back any longer either. I mean my 
brain could more than supply the visions to all those mind 
blowing sound effects. I was really pulling on my cock hard. I 
was lost in the moment. I shut my eyes and as I felt my balls 
start to contract I leaned my forehead against the connecting 
door. I never even heard or felt the Godforsaken defective lock 
give up the ghost. All I heard was the moan in my throat, 
muffled by the ringing in my ears, as I came. All I felt was the 
warm cum as it spurted all over my fist.
The next thing I knew I was standing in Scully's room, just inside 
the connecting door, totally exposed and wringing every last bit 
of a tremendously satisfying orgasm out of my cock and nuts. 
Hey, when you're practically blacking out from the intensity of a 
bone melting climax you're going to keep pumping no matter 
what's happening. Besides that I was gone for a couple of 
seconds. I mean fuck blind.
You know that old saying, *I saw my life pass before my eyes* 
that a lot of people say after they've almost bought the farm? 
Well, what I saw in Scully's room in the illumination from the 
bathroom light almost came close to the same feeling as that 
old adage. But it certainly wasn't anyone's life, least of all mine. 
No, it was more like a fuck tape. Better in fact than any porn 
video I'd ever seen. A real live sex show between two very 
talented adults who obviously loved each other, and were 
dedicated to giving each other the best ride in the world. 
In a matter of seconds I realized a couple of fine points. First of 
all to hell with the headboard. Mulder had moved her up above it 
by this point. Her legs were wrapped around his waist and she 
was hanging on like she was used to the position. And ok - 
Mulder had a great ass. And he certainly knew how to use it too. 
Both of them were tremendous athletes, I'll tell you. I don't think 
I could have kept that up for as long as they were going at it. 
God damn it Mulder had staying power. And he was trying to 
get her to come along too. He had one of his hands trapped 
between them, working her. I thought Jesus I'm glad it's his left 
hand. He'd have trouble holding his Smith and Wesson if he 
broke his right under all that slamming.
I almost got lucky. The two of them were so engrossed in the 
climax that was obviously only seconds away. I said almost got 
lucky. After all, Mulder's back was to me. Scully had her eyes 
closed. The operative word here is *HAD*. She opened her 
eyes and they locked with mine.
To her credit the sound she uttered fit right in with the 
cacophony that both of them were making. Mulder didn't notice 
her squeal of surprise. Also to her credit she recovered very 
quickly.
All I could think to fall back on in that moment was a gesture I 
had seen Cracker Rand make dozens of times over in Nam. It 
was the last gesture he ever made in his life in fact. I was 
hoping when I made it wasn't going to be mine when I died from 
embarrassment. I put my finger up to my lips and mouthed a 
silent hush up. Then to my unending disgust I mouthed the 
words, "Don't stop."
"God, why the hell did I mouth that?" I thought. What a stupid 
question. I mouthed it because I wanted to see them. They were 
beautiful. I saw Scully's eyes go slightly wide. She was 
surprised but she was too far gone into the experience to do 
much about it. She wouldn't stop because she was going to 
come. I could see it all and it was phenomenal. I still had my 
hand wrapped around my dick. I wished to hell I could come 
again and again because seeing her orgasm hit her was one of 
the most exquisite sights I'd ever seen. She was really writhing 
under Mulder and letting go with a half suppressed moan. Her 
reaction obviously tripped his trigger because Mulder threw 
himself against her hips with a really deep guttural howl, and 
then obviously he was shooting.
I had to bite my lip to stop the whimper that I felt climbing up my 
throat from coming out of my mouth. Scully's eyes had gone 
blank for a moment when she was at the height of pleasure. But 
when she came back to herself, and Mulder was still moving 
weakly against her, she focused on my face. 
I couldn't believe the look of compassion that I saw there. It 
made me feel even more revulsion for what I had just done. I 
hated myself even more because I let my desires show plainly 
on my face in return. I think she knew. I think she saw that I 
wanted more than anything in those few seconds, to walk over 
and join them on that bed. I wanted them both. I just wanted, 
needed to feel half of what they felt together. If they had let me 
I would have shown them... What? - Respect? Tenderness? 
Compassion? Love? All those things? God, this had to be a mid-
life crisis now. I mean I hardly knew what to think or do and 
thinking of topping Fox Mulder had to be tantamount to a 
psychotic breakdown.
I stared into Scully's eyes for a few more brief moments 
basking in her kind understanding and then I dropped my cock, 
turned and quietly reentered my room, shutting both doors 
behind me.
The last words I heard came from Dana Scully. She could 
barely speak but she did manage to choke them out.
"Mulder...we have a problem..."
I went in the can and threw up.
xXx
Dana Scully felt so alive with Mulder between her legs. It was 
the most rapturous feeling in the world. She always felt 
protected in his embrace but when he was inside her and giving 
her everything he had in order to bring her pleasure her heart 
sang. 
She told herself as she had so many times before he really was 
the most fantastic lover. As much as he acted like a sex 
obsessed teenager sometimes she knew in reality he had been 
worried he was inadequate in bed. It had been hard for her to 
believe he thought of himself as a lousy lay. He was anything 
but. He'd always been more concerned with her response and 
her orgasm than he ever was with his own. She had told him 
once in so many words, that everything was always about him. 
But in reality that was never true between them in bed. 
Everything was about her then. Even now he was holding back 
and working his hand between her legs to bring her over before 
he even tried to climax himself. It took incredible self control 
and focus but she knew that was something Fox Mulder really 
excelled in. His single minded desire to please her made her 
feel like a queen. It also made her come like an exploding stick 
of dynamite and she was burning up that short fuse as the 
seconds ticked by.
She opened her eyes because she wanted to see Mulder's face 
when she came. Instead she saw something else entirely and 
despite the fact that her orgasm was imminent she struggled to 
blink and focus on what she could hardly believe she was 
seeing.
At first she thought she was imagining things. God knows she 
had been thinking about what Walter Skinner might look like 
naked and aroused after the night she had comforted him. The 
thought had been lodged in her imagination like a piece of sand 
between the shells of an oyster. If oysters itched she knew how 
it would feel. The fantasy was like an itch and boy she didn't 
want it to be an itch she would scratch at all.
But she had thought about Skinner in the odd moment or two. 
She had been guilty about her fantasies as well. But 
nevertheless the fantasy had been there. Now, she thought she 
was hallucinating him as well. But when she saw the A.D. move 
she knew it was all too real.
He was standing just inside the room with his hand on his cock 
and with one of the best fuck faces she had ever seen in her 
life. Mulder's was the best but the A.D. wasn't a bad second 
place. "God, he looks gorgeous," she thought as he threw his 
head back, eyes closed and mouth open in a silent scream. He 
was still milking that magnificent cock and that vision only 
added to Scully's all ready inflamed senses.
When Skinner came back to himself and realized where he was 
she realized their eyes were locked. She knew she looked and 
sounded surprised and then she was totally amazed when he 
put his finger to his lips and then lowered it and mouthed the 
words, "Don't stop."
Well that was an easy request. There was no way she could 
stop now. Biology had taken over completely. She was about to 
come and it was going to be a mammoth climax. Just before 
she went crashing over the edge she thought to herself, "God, 
Dana this is probably the first and last time you've put on a free 
show for anybody," and then she exploded, biting off her urge to 
wail like a fire alarm.
In the moment she returned to her senses she focused again on 
Skinner's face. She felt such compassion for him. Obviously 
something was deeply wrong if he had allowed himself to make 
this shocking breach of decorum. It went way beyond 
breaching. It harbored on cataclysmic destruction of his career, 
maybe his mind as well. She didn't even want to think about 
what the implications were for her and Mulder. All she could 
think about was the obviously embarrassed, suffering, and 
lonely man standing in the connecting door to the rooms.
She also caught the look of longing and desire on his face. It 
was unmistakable. She had seen it before as it flickered across 
his features that night he'd had the nightmare. As she observed 
the emotions warring on his countenance and divined their 
meaning she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She 
knew Skinner wanted to join them. His wishes were written in 
his eyes. She also knew that he wouldn't and he hated himself 
for even having the desire to do so. 
The sinking feeling came from the fact that she knew if Mulder 
would accept the idea she might consider asking Skinner to join 
them. She knew she was attracted to him. But she also knew 
she didn't love him. She considered that her feelings for Skinner 
were more likely the wish to help and comfort him coupled with 
a healthy dose of Mulder induced endorphin rush that raised her 
libido to levels where her rational judgment just might be in 
question at times. Like the times when he had just got done 
fucking her senseless.
For those reasons and the obvious other professional 
considerations Dana Scully knew asking Walter Skinner to join 
them in a menage a trois would be a very bad idea.
All this flitted through her mind as Mulder's orgasm hit him. She 
hugged him tight and murmured her encouragement into his ear 
as he threw himself against her crying out his passion in an 
almost feral growl of pleasure.
She watched as Skinner's face softened as he watched them. 
He only studied them for a moment more as Mulder's thrusts 
weakened and he kissed her on the cheek. Skinner was all 
ready turning and walking back into his room as Mulder lowered 
them both down from their perch slightly above the bed's 
headboard. The connecting doors shut just as Scully managed 
to gasp out....
"Mulder...we have a problem..."
xXx 
I heaved up my guts over the porcelain God until I didn't think I 
could heave up anything else without it being a piece of my 
stomach. When I was finally done I used a dry wash cloth to 
wipe the vomit off my mouth. I cleaned up around the toilet and 
went back out to the vanity to rinse my mouth out.
As I rinsed and spat, I thought about how utterly mortified I was 
at everything that had transpired in Scully's room. The only 
thing that I was thankful for was that Mulder hadn't seen any of 
it. If he had...who was I kidding though? My humiliation was 
complete. It didn't matter that Mulder hadn't seen me. Scully's 
last comment insured that he was going to hear all about it 
anyway. That was Scully. Honest, forthright, faithful and true. 
Except for the fact that she was fucking her partner and had 
lied by the sin of omission about that little item.
I slammed my hand into the wall, hard. I didn't even think about 
the consequences and I didn't feel the pain as it broke against 
the plaster. 
"Fuck you, you cocksucking hypocrite," I raged, "What the hell 
gives you the right to even criticize either of them?" I had been 
the transgressor here. The one who had overstepped all the 
bounds of propriety. At least they had been having a good, 
honest, healthy fuck. I was the one that was acting like some 
perverted voyeur. "Had I really sunk that low?" I asked myself. 
Yes, I had.
I left the bathroom still not really feeling the pain in my hand. I 
knew distantly that I'd broken it, but I didn't give a shit. I 
welcomed the pain. I reveled in it.
I walked back over to the edge of the bed and sat down on it. 
My eyes caught sight of John's letter resting on the night stand. 
I contemplated the envelope. I thought of how much I missed 
John. How much I missed Sharon. I contemplated calling my 
ex-wife. Oh, that would be a really bad move. She was 
remarried after all. She had been polite enough to call me to let 
me know the alimony payments were going to stop. I'm sure 
her new husband, Peter the psychiatrist, would appreciate the 
early morning phone call. He'd probably think
it was one of his patients calling in an emergency. He wouldn't 
be far off the mark on that one. This was an emergency all 
right. I just wasn't one of *his* crazies.
No, talking to Sharon was out. I decided maybe it would be 
better to talk to John. In fact, I thought - maybe I should try 
talking to him in person. I stared at the letter and then my eyes 
flicked to my Glock nestled in it's holster where it waited right 
next to John's love letter on the night stand. 
xXx
"Scully, I don't know what to say," Mulder sat on the bed in his 
boxers and t-shirt as Dana Scully pulled out the only pair of 
jeans and a t-shirt she had brought with her. She idly 
remembered the impulse that had made her throw them into her 
garment bag. The sightseeing idea. Well she'd been doing some 
sightseeing all right. Good Lord!
"Well, I don't know what to say either but I've got to try to talk to 
him," she adjusted a bra strap and then she reached for the t-
shirt where she had thrown it down next to Mulder on the bed.
"Do you really think that's a good idea? I mean I don't even 
think I can look him in the face...and I wasn't looking him in the 
face," Mulder grinned sheepishly. 
"I have to tell him it's all right, Mulder. You didn't see what he 
looked like. I think he wanted to die. I'm afraid what he might 
do. Stay here if you want to. I'll try to handle it."
"Scully what if you're mistaken? What if all you saw was Walter 
Skinner deciding to go back over and write up a really damning 
report on us Scully. He brought his laptop after all. I mean he is 
the court of last resort when it comes to the regs on 
fraternization. He's going to come down on us like a ton of 
bricks, Scully. You have to admit that it's a possibility."
"Mulder! Get real. He was telling me not to stop and jerking 
himself off to beat the band. If he's going to report us it's going 
to be my word against his as much as I hate to admit it." Scully 
didn't even want to entertain the thought that she'd have to pit 
herself against the A.D. The thought was terrible. It made her ill 
even as it jumped into her mind. 
"Scully, what makes you think anyone is going to believe you? 
You haven't exactly been working in the realm of respectability 
at the Bureau you know. If you weren't working with me I think 
your chances would be a lot better if you try to buck the 
system."
Scully stopped zipping up her jeans to stare at Mulder's serious 
face. The sad thing about what he'd said was that it was true to 
a degree. However, and she would never say this to Mulder, but 
she did have her supporters in the Bureau just like Mulder had 
his there and in congress when he bothered to look. She knew if 
push came to shove she could stand up for herself and have a 
chance at least of having someone listen. That was provided 
she even wanted to bother. At this point being booted from the 
Bureau didn't seem as catastrophic a prospect as it had earlier 
in her career. Mulder meant a hell of a lot more to her than her 
career now. Being with him was more important than anything 
else. But she wasn't sure how Mulder would handle the closing 
of the X-Files. She had a very strong suspicion it wouldn't go 
down well. So if that was the case she'd fight the devil himself if 
necessary to keep their jobs.
Besides when it came right down to it she didn't think she'd 
have to bother. She had seen Skinner's face. She knew he 
wasn't going to report them. The thing she was the most worried 
about was the idea that he might hurt himself now. The look of 
absolute self loathing she'd seen on his face at the last had 
chilled her. It was the look that was driving her now to go to him 
and make sure he was all right. 
She finished zipping up her pants and then she sat down next to 
Mulder on the bed. She gently stroked his lean, muscular thigh.
"Mulder, you didn't see his face, that's the problem. I...I think the 
thing that disturbed him the most was the idea that he...he 
wanted to join us. I mean he was incredibly aroused Mulder. It 
was pretty difficult to miss," she said very quietly, "And if that 
was the case, and I think it was, there is no way in hell he'll 
report us. His conscience won't let him. He'll think he was as 
guilty as we are for just having the idea he'd like to *fraternize*. 
And he'll hate himself for it too and I think that's dangerous."
"Are you serious? He looked like he wanted...Jesus, Scully. I 
can hardly believe it."
"Well, believe it, Mulder because really - he looked like the 
words *menage a trois* were stamped all over his kisser."
"Damn."
"Look, we're wasting time. One of us has got to check on him. 
One of us needs to get over there." Scully stood up and looked 
down at Mulder.
"Scully, I just can't go over there right away. I can follow you in 
a couple of minutes. I just can't open that door first." 
Mulder hung his head in chagrin. He felt like a tremendous 
coward but his knees were shaking. He just couldn't 
immediately face the A.D. under these circumstances. He just 
needed a minute to compose himself so that he didn't utter one 
of the myriad crass, off the cuff remarks that were flying 
through his mind at a mile a minute. Talk about career suicide. 
If he said half the shit he was thinking of saying right now it 
would be more than career suicide. Skinner would probably 
take out his Glock and shoot him and then himself. No, he 
needed a minute to wipe his mind of all the asinine, glib, 
remarks he fell back on when he couldn't deal with strong 
emotional moments. He looked back up at Scully. He knew he 
had a pleading look on his face but he couldn't help it.
Scully looked him in the eyes. She knew what was going on in 
his head. He was the King of the caustic remark. Yeah, maybe 
it was a good idea if she went over there first.
"Mulder, why don't you just wait here then until I tell you to 
come in. I'll knock on the door and see if he'll talk to me. If he 
lets me in I'll shut the doors and then I'll call you when it's 
advisable for you to come over there."
"Scully, I feel like a total shithead to let you do this. I mean - I'm 
the fucking psychologist here."
"Well, right. But do you really think he wants to see you first 
Mulder, I mean honestly?"
Mulder looked at her and shook his head, "No. I can imagine I'm 
the last person he'd want to see right now."
"All right. Get dressed. I'll call you in as soon as I can."
Scully turned, and leaving Mulder to dress, headed over to the 
connecting doors.
xXx
There were several things that kept me from putting my Glock 
in my mouth and pulling the trigger. The first was my Mother 
and my Sister. I knew it would kill them. When they had seen 
me last they'd thought I was happy. The shock of my suicide 
would destroy them both and I couldn't do that, wouldn't, no 
matter how bad my life and career fell apart.
The other thing that kept me from eating a bullet was doubt. I 
wasn't sure I'd see John because when I let myself admit it - I 
wasn't sure where I'd end up if I blew my brains out. I'd believed 
in God once. I mean suicides went to Hell didn't they? 
Somehow I didn't believe John was in Hell no matter what that 
turtle-assed chaplain in Nam had said to him on the subject. So 
if I wanted to see Cracker Rand I'd better let nature take her 
course and hope I died in bed at a ripe old age so I could meet 
him at the pearly gates if that was to be my fate.
And lastly, when I considered it all, I knew I didn't want to die. I 
mean not really. Hell, I'd survived two attempts on my life all 
ready. What made me think I should have the right to go against 
those odds. With my luck and the broken hand I'd probably 
bungle the suicide attempt and end up a vegetable drooling in 
some institution. That would be a hell of a way to end up. A 
burden on society and my family.
I'd always thought suicide was the cowards way out anyway. 
The last attempt by a really self-centered, selfish person to get 
attention. It might be a cry for help, but it was also a hell of a 
way to make every one around you suffer if it succeeded.
So, I didn't even take the Glock out of the holster. Instead I took 
John's letter out of the envelope, read it again and began to cry. 
As I cried I formulated the plan that as soon as I got back to DC 
I would go back to group counseling at the VA. I'd been to group 
when I'd had bouts with the PTSD before. They were a good 
bunch of guys. The psychologist running the program was top 
notch.
The rest of the shit - Scully, Mulder, Bureau regs - it would have 
to wait until I could think straight again. I needed some time. I 
needed to think about what I should do and what I would say to 
them.
As I was blubbering away I heard a tiny knock on the 
connecting doors. Oh shit I thought. I said I needed some time.
"Sir...It, it's Scully. Are you all right?"
No, not really Scully. If you'd really like to know I was pretty 
close to blowing my fucking brains out a minute ago.
"May I come in, sir...I...I'd like to help."
Help what, Scully? Help me to forget what I'd seen and done? 
How? Maybe you'd like to shoot me instead? No, that wouldn't 
be it. Help me to forget by fucking me too? My mind went 
blank. I just couldn't deal with anything anymore.
"Go away Scully."
"Sir, please..."
I could tell by the strain in her voice that she was terrified 
although she was trying monumentally hard not to show it. I 
imagined she might think I'd consider killing myself. I was 
armed after all. The bullet would have solved a lot of problems.
"Scully...I...I'll be all right. I just can't talk right now. Forgive me. 
I...I just want to be left alone."
"I forgive you, sir..." her voice came plaintively through the door. 
All the concern, compassion and gentleness that I had seen in 
her face resonated in her voice. My heart went out to her. I 
knew she cared and it did make me feel better to know that 
someone did. I looked down at John's letter in my hands. I 
suddenly heard his voice and it reverberated through my skull 
loud and clear.
*****I don't blame you one bit for anything. All right, son? Don't 
be guilty. There was nothing either of us could do. No stopping 
it. What will be, will be, you know.*****
I took it as an omen. I knew I couldn't blame them. I just needed 
some space, some time alone to think about an apology at this 
point. I refolded the letter with great difficulty, placed it back in 
it's envelope and the envelope went back on the night stand 
next to the Glock. I turned around towards the connecting 
doors.
"Scully, hang on," I said. I grabbed my briefs off the bed and 
slipped them on. I went into the can and washed my face off 
with some cold water and dried myself on one of the hand 
towels. By this time I was cradling my right hand and thinking 
how stupid I had been to belt the wall. I'd been worried about 
Mulder breaking his gun hand? *My* right hand was swelling to 
the size of a boxing glove. I wanted to get dressed, but with my 
injured hand I knew I was going to have trouble doing it. I opted 
for throwing my robe on and tying it as tightly as I could around 
my waist.
I went to stand in front of the connecting doors. I rested my 
forehead against the door on my side this time and grimaced in 
pain. Jesus my hand hurt. Good. I struggled to keep control in 
and pain out of my voice. Before I could say anything else 
Scully spoke again.
"Are you all right, sir? We were worried that..." she asked with 
concern.
"Scully, there's no excuse..."
"Sir, I know that. Mulder and I...we...the regulations..."
"I don't mean you and Mulder, Scully. I mean me. My 
actions...my actions were unconscionable. I have no excuse. 
No possible alibi either. I'm disgusted with myself more than I 
can even describe to you. More than you will ever know. Look - 
the two of you...it...shit. I can't report you. It's none of my God 
damned business after what I just did. You're consenting adults. 
What the fuck gives me the right to..."
"Sir, please, don't...don't denigrate yourself like that, we..."
"Scully, I'm a pig. How can you think otherwise. I know you saw 
what I was thinking I...God! Please just go away. I won't 
mention this again. You and Mulder have nothing to worry 
about. Your...your relationship is none of my business. Go and 
be happy Scully. Just leave me alone."
I couldn't face her. My raw emotions were too close to the 
surface. They were emotions I had too much trouble trying to 
understand or face without having Dana Scully coming trough 
that connecting door and looking at me with that unending 
compassionate stare in her lovely, piercing eyes. 
My hand took that moment to jolt me with a terrific stab of 
almost unendurable pain. I figured fuck it, Walter. You've really 
done it now, it's emergency room time. I couldn't stop myself 
from uttering a low groan of anguish. 
"Oh GGGod..."
The connecting doors came open.
"Sir, please let me help..."
Scully was standing there in a t-shirt and jeans. She looked like 
- no other way to describe it - radiant. Like a woman who had 
just been thoroughly fucked by the man she loves. Her entire 
body was practically glowing. Beautiful. Divine. Just so 
beautiful. I backed away from her and the look of total kindness 
and compassionate understanding that once again suffused her 
face.
"Scully, get out. I...please leave me alone. I can't be responsible 
right now..I..."
She walked forward and I stopped - caught like a stag in the 
headlights of her electric blue eyes. She reached up and 
touched my cheek.
"Walter, it's all right...you're only human..." she whispered.
I think I went into shock then. The next thing I knew I was on 
my knees at her feet. I was sobbing and she had my shoulders 
in her arms. My head was pressed to her chest. I was shaking 
all over.
I was only vaguely aware of what was happening. My eyes 
were blinded by tears, and my ears seemed to be muffled by 
cotton. I suddenly felt two strong arms helping me up, lifting me. 
Mulder. My mind registered distantly that he was murmuring 
words.
"It's all right, sir, let me help..."
I was being placed very gently down on the edge of the King 
sized bed. It just felt so good to know someone cared.
The rest was a blur. 
xXx
"Mulder, he's broken his hand, be careful."
"Damn...It looks like..."
"Just get him on the bed. I'm going to call 911."
"Scully, he's disassociated. I mean he's not here right this 
second."
"I know, can you handle him if he hares out?"
"What do you think? Make the call fast."
"Try to bring him back, Mulder."
"Sir, can you hear me. Look, can you tell me what day of the 
week this is?"
"Sir, can you tell me what year this is?"
"Sir, do you know the year?"
"Can you tell me your name...sir?
"JJJohn..."
"Who the hell is John? Shit! Scully..."
"I've got the 911 operator, Mulder, hang on..."
"Sir, can you tell me who played Elliott Ness in the 
Untouchables..."
"Robert Stack..."
"And...who else?"
"That dick, Kevin Costner..."
"Scully, I think the A.D. is back..."
"Sir, are you aware, you've broken your hand..."
"Fuck yes, I'm aware of it, Agent Mulder..."
"Scully is calling 911. You have to go to the emergency room."
"Just call 'em. It hurts like a son of a bitch."
"All right, just hang in there. I think you're going to be just fine."
"That's open to debate, Mulder."
"Don't worry, sir. We'll talk about it later."
xXx
EPILOGUE
Mulder had been right. I *was* fine eventually and we did talk 
about things later.
But before the talking transpired I had to go through a little rest, 
relaxation and rehabilitation. 
After the early morning trip to Montgomery County General 
hospital in Ambler PA, and the minor surgery to set my right 
hand with pins and a cast, I went to my Mother's house to 
recuperate.
Mulder and Scully took care of all the arrangements with the 
Bureau. I was going to have an extended vacation it seemed. 
They told everyone that I had suffered a particularly bad 
nightmare about Vietnam at the hotel, fallen out of bed, and 
smashed by hand against the wall. I will be grateful to them until 
my dying day for handling all that for me, and for arranging to 
have all my personal effects transferred to my Mother's house 
before they caught a rescheduled next day flight back to DC.
Jim Moriarity arranged for transportation for them - he took 
them back to the airport for the flight to DC. He even took care 
of the broken down rental car which had been towed into the 
garage the night before. Then he helped my Mother to get me 
into the house after I'd been released from the hospital.
Like I said - Jim's a good friend. We spent many pleasant hours 
over the two weeks I stayed with my Mother, shooting the shit 
about just about everything from the war to whether we thought 
the Green Bay Packers were going to fight their way to yet 
another championship.
If my Mother and I had been on our way to burying the hatchet 
before, it was definitely well and buried at the end of those two 
weeks. I did have another nightmare at her house. I woke to 
find her rocking me in her arms and I cried like a baby. We both 
did. It was liberating for us both as well. Syl, Roger, and the 
three boys came back from the Maryland shore the second 
week I was at my Mother's house. I could hardly believe it but in 
the time I hadn't seen Syl's kids they had become young men. 
Decent citizens too. Roger was still Roger but we swapped 
some stories over a couple of Beck's one night and it was ok. 
Syl must have told him to watch his mouth. He behaved himself 
quite admirably. I found out why later in the week. She was 
pregnant with their fourth kid and the ultrasound had said it was 
going to be a little girl. So, I was going to be an uncle again and 
this time I thought I'd try to be around more to see her grow up.
I left my Mother's house at the end of the two weeks more 
relaxed and content than I ever thought I would be. I still had 
issues but the time I spent with my family helped me to 
decompress more than I could have ever hoped it would.
When I returned to DC I enrolled myself in my old Vietnam 
Vet's Group at the VA. It was nice to see the guys, both the 
familiar faces and the newbies. I quickly found the counseling 
was really going to help. After 8 weeks I felt a whole lot better. 
My hand mended along with my mind. The cast came off at 8 
weeks and I started therapy to regain full use of my hand then 
as well.
Mulder and Scully were another matter. I went back to work 
almost immediately upon my return to DC - cast and all. I just 
couldn't sit around the apartment. I would have gone stir crazy. 
No, getting back in the saddle was really the best medicine for 
me along with the Group at the VA.
But, back to work did mean back to dealing with Mulder and 
Scully. I still couldn't speak to them about anything that had 
happened in PA. I ignored the fact that they were involved and 
they made it easy by acting like consummate professionals. 
Mulder even did a quick VCS consult at my request without any 
protest. Scully was the efficient and diligent Special Agent 
personified. I just let them carry on while I tried to come up with 
a way to tell them both how much I appreciated what they had 
done for me, and that I had no intention of reporting them to 
anyone. I tried in subtle and indirect ways to convey this idea 
and they were intuitive enough to catch my fumbling attempts in 
that respect.
In November, Mulder had those second pair of Redskins 
tickets. I had expected he'd be taking Scully. Instead on a 
Monday morning there was a request from him for a short 
conference.
To my surprise he stumbled around for a bit making a show of 
talking about the X-File they had just closed and then he asked 
me to attend the game with him. Well, I was a little hesitant but 
then I figured - what the fuck. I mean, it *was* the Skins after 
all.
We went for a beer afterwards. I'm not going to tell much about 
what we talked about because some of it was Fox Mulder's 
private business. I just told him about John Rand and was 
brutally honest about his resemblance to him and the problems I 
had with it and yeah, I told him why. I think we're ok with it now. 
I'm not going to be sleeping with Mulder if that's what you're 
wondering. As far as the relationship with Scully - I told him not 
to sweat it. It was forgive and forget time in a big way as far as I 
was concerned. Please, could they possibly forgive me and 
forget everything I had done that night. They had nothing to be 
ashamed of. I, on the other hand, could barely look them in the 
face. We settled the matter. All was forgiven and I wished them 
both the best. We got kind of hammered and I ended up 
sleeping on his couch. Don't know how the hell he does it. It was 
as uncomfortable as hell.
I haven't been able have a heart to heart with Scully. I just can't 
face up to that prospect yet. We're cordial to each other and just 
a little less formal actually than we used to be. She's making the 
attempt to be more friendly. I'm trying too. But, the emotions are 
too close to the surface. I think I need more time and some 
more counseling before I really talk to her about that night. My 
psychologist at the VA is going to schedule me for some private 
sessions. I think I'm close to dealing with Scully. I know I'll have 
to discuss that night with her soon. That's a fact.
The good news is - I have someone new in my life. I mean 
someone special. Funny how life works sometimes. Mulder and 
Scully conspired to introduce me to a fantastic woman. You 
know I'd never been on a blind date in my life and was scared 
shitless, but this one turned out to be better than I could have 
ever imagined it would. Well it wasn't exactly a blind date 
because she knew about it, but it was a hell of surprise to me 
nonetheless.
Now I marvel at her. Really I do. I can talk to her and I think I'm 
actually making a connection with her like the connection I 
should have made with my first wife but just had too much 
emotional baggage to allow myself to make. She's intelligent, 
kind, and caring and I think it's bringing me out of that emotional 
deadness, that living hell I've been in for too many years now.
We'd been seeing each other for a little over 4 months before 
she asked me to dinner at her house one evening. She's honest 
and pretty surprisingly uninhibited as well. I found myself 
throwing a box of condoms in the old shopping cart for the first 
time in a long time.
When we finally got down to business that evening she was 
fantastic. I was so nervous I was shaking in my shoes. I mean I 
just wanted everything to be right. She was so special to me by 
then. We had a good laugh about it afterwards. The night 
couldn't have gone better.
All this has been going through my mind as I watch her sleep. 
It's a Saturday morning and I've been thinking of going 
downstairs to make her some coffee. She'll want some. I know 
I do after the work out we gave each other last night.
She's waking up though. God, she's beautiful. I lean over and 
give her a gentle kiss on the forehead. She's smiling sleepily at 
me. She has a classic beauty, like a fine work of art. She's 
stunning really - lovely, just like her daughter.
"Margaret, I was thinking of making some coffee. Would you 
like some coffee?"
"Walter, I would kill for some coffee. I could really use my 
caffeine this morning."
"I thought so."
"Walter, you were wonderful last night. I..."
"Hey, you were more than wonderful, Margaret. I can't even 
begin to tell you."
"Well, maybe you'd better start calling me Maggie, Walter. I 
mean after last night I think Margaret is going to sound just a 
little bit too formal."
"I'd like that, Maggie. I hear the phone I think."
"What time is it?"
"A little after 8 AM." 
"Oh, that would be Dana. We're supposed to go shopping 
together this afternoon."
"Do you want me to answer it?"
"Uh, no, Walter. I think you'd better let me talk to her."
"Yeah, I guess so."
"On second thought, let it go to the machine. I'll call her later. 
Let's go make the coffee."
Looking into Margaret Scully's eyes, I saw something I hadn't 
seen looking back at me in a long time. I gave her one of the 
things I reserve for only a few people - the genuine, dazzling 
Walter Skinner smile that shows every one of the straight, white 
teeth that years of braces as a kid have given me.
Maggie smiled back. She has one of the most glorious smiles 
I've ever been privileged to see. I suddenly got the idea that 
maybe the coffee could wait. Oh yes, ma'am.
Author's note, Jr.: I hope you like happy endings. I think Walter 
and Maggie will. Oh here's the second disclaimer of course:
DISCLAIMER the second: Margaret Scully belongs to Chris 
Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and 20th Century FOX 
Broadcasting. No copyright infringement is intended and no 
profit is being made from her use, either.
-THE END OF THE WHOLE STORY-