Author's Note: Atalanta was in love with a prince named Meleager, who
unfortunately murdered his uncles and was killed by his mother.  But
another love is waiting for Atalanta, one who has loved her all along.

I started wondering what it would have been like if Scully had never
joined the FBI, but my firm belief in fate led me to think about how
all these funny things would have turned out if Mulder and Scully were
not partners, but a couple.  I took liberties with the timeline, wanting
to cover those episodes with the most romantic tension, but not wanting
to be constrained by what was supposed to happen when.

Much thanks to Tinka and Audrey for beta services.  You guys are
awesome.

***

Mulder rested his head against the steering wheel, breathing roughly.
He did not want to go in to work today.  He knew exactly what was
going to happen.  Diana was going to quit.

He'd known it for a long time.  Slowly, she'd cleared all her stuff
out of his apartment - a shirt one night, her toothbrush the next.  A
week ago, she'd started surreptitiously straightening up the office.
The call last night had only confirmed it.  She was out of there.

As much as he'd loved her, it was a relief to know that the moment had
come.  He and Diana had been having problems for months.  It was too
hard to be her partner and her lover.  She was too...spooky.

He knew that was his nickname, but he swore that Diana deserved it
more.  She could come up with some crazy stuff.  Sometimes he thought
she was tossing out wild theories just to see if he would go for them.
She was getting sick of the X-Files.  She thought they were a joke.
She thought he was a joke.

Well, maybe he was.  But he wasn't about to let this get him down.

*Dana.*

A rush of pleasure went through his body, followed immediately by a
wave of pain. Damn Diana anyway.  She always did have the worst timing
in the world.  He'd be damn lucky if Dana didn't send her fiancee off
to kick his ass.

Not that his intentions hadn't been totally honorable.  He knew Diana
was leaving.  He knew, even if the rest of the world hadn't yet been
informed, that they were through.  All it required was a declaration
to that effect.  So he had felt no guilt whatsoever when, looking on
Dana's face that first night, he had decided to give her a shot.

Finding out she was Jerse's fiancee had deterred him for only the time
it took to get to know her.  She was fantastic.  She was everything he
had ever dreamed about.  And she terrified him.

He'd thought Diana was fantastic, too, once upon a time.  She had
respected him and his theories.  She had understood what it took to
stay on the path and not get deterred by bureaucratic nonsense.  What
if Dana turned out the way Diana had?  What if she turned into a
Diana, at some point down the road?

*Mulder, are you ever barking up the wrong tree.  Dana Scully is never
going to speak to you again.  Ever.*

Mulder glanced at his watch, realized how late he was, and went inside
the J. Edgar Hoover building to say goodbye to Diana Fowley for the
last time.

***

Three weeks later, he got a case file on his desk about Ed Jerse.

He couldn't resist.  He opened it up and found that Jerse, after
getting drunk with his buddies one night, had got himself a tattoo and
proceeded to try to kill his fiancee.  The wedding, needless to say,
was off.  Dana was recovering nicely; Ed was in jail for the time
being.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was on the phone to Dana.  He had
memorized her phone number by not dialing it for the last three weeks.

"Hello?"  Her voice answered the phone after three rings.

"Hi."

There was a pause.  "Moving in for the kill, are we, Mulder?"

"Come on, Dana.  I heard about Jerse.  I was worried about you."

"Don't be.  I can take care of myself."

"I know that.  What happened?"

"I honestly don't know."  She was showing clear signs of getting ready
to hang up.  He could almost see her glancing at her watch.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I was talking about it, Mulder.  I have a guest.  And if you don't
mind, I'd like to get back to him."

She put a gentle but definite emphasis on the word *him.*  Mulder
screwed his eyes shut.

"You don't wait around, do you?"

"Have a nice evening, Mulder," she said evenly, and the line went
dead.

***

Dana placed the phone carefully back on the cradle, then went back
into the other room.  Her visitor was sitting at her kitchen table, a
glass of wine in his hands.  She paused for a moment to admire the
view - he was wearing a leather jacket and a pair of jeans so old and
tight that they could have been stitched on.  Strange attire for an
FBI agent.

"Sorry about that, Agent Krycek," she said as casually as she could.
She didn't think she could bear it if she seemed shaken to this sweet,
sexy man who questioned her with such determined gentleness.

"No problem.  Now, Miss Scully, can we start again at the top?  I
would really like to get this all straight."

She sighed.  "Ed came over the other evening - Tuesday - and we talked
for a while.  He had some wine, and he mentioned going out with his
business associates on a kind of an informal bachelor party."

"Did that upset you?"

"No.  I thought he might have a last fling, but I didn't mind very
much.  He'd been very good to me."

"And what did you two talk about?"

"The wedding."  She looked down at her drink.  "Um, the wedding
night."

Alex Krycek's gaze sharpened a little.  "Did you have intercourse?"

"No.  We were waiting.  We lay down on the couch for a while."

Dana didn't tell Krycek what had really happened that night.  It was
none of his damn business, investigation or not.  Truthfully, Ed had
come over, had some wine, and when they'd cuddled on the couch he had
gotten a little too amorous for Dana's peace of mind.  She'd reminded
him of her intention to wait, and he'd left upset.  Angry.  She had
been glad when he'd mentioned his plans.  She wanted him to stay happy
until the wedding.  She didn't want to sleep with him until she had to
- now, not because she wanted control over him, but because she needed
time to cleanse another man's embrace from her mind.

"And when was the next time you heard from him?"

"Well, one of his friends works in the hospital.  He mentioned the
party and asked if I had talked to Ed.  He hinted that something had
happened, but he didn't say what."

"What do you think he was referring to?"

"I suppose the tattoo."

"When did you first see the tattoo?"

"That evening.  He came over for dinner and I saw it when he came in.
I asked about it, and he told me what happened.  He'd gotten drunk and
couldn't remember why he'd had it done."

The tattoo was of a pretty blonde woman with bloodred lips and the
peculiar tagline "Never Again."  She had wondered quite a bit about
that cryptic statement, but hadn't been too worried.  "He said he was
going to get it removed as soon as possible," she told the agent.

He looked up from his notes and nodded.  Actually, Dana had asked him
for ID when he'd shown up that evening, because he looked so sinfully
handsome and so unconventionally dressed.  But she was warming to him
now.  He was succinct, but compassionate.  His eyes told her that he
knew how much she was hurting, despite her cool demeanor.

"And what happened that evening?"

"Nothing.  We cleaned up the dinner dishes and watched a movie.  He
went home at about ten o'clock."

"Did he indicate a desire to stay?"

"Yes."  She didn't elaborate.

"And what did you say?"

"I told him he was welcome to sleep on the couch if he didn't want to
go home."

Amusement glinted in Alex's eyes, but he didn't comment.  "I see.  And
when did you see him next?"

"I woke up when he came into my room later that night.  He hit me over
the head and I blacked out.  When I came to, I was down in the
basement and he was opening up the furnace."

"And that was when you fought him off."

"Yes."

"When did you call the police?"

"Right after I treated his arm.  He burned it very badly."

"Did you call from your apartment?"

"No, I used his cellular phone."

"I see."  Alex scribbled furiously.  "Is there anything else I should
know?"

"Not that I can think of."  She filled his wineglass and her own.  "Am
I under investigation here?"

"No, Miss Scully.  We just wanted to get the full story."  He took a
sip of wine.  "This is quite an unusual case, you understand."

"Why is the FBI involved?"

"Mr. Jerse's reputation as a solid businessman, the strangeness of his
attack, and frankly my own interest in the case, Miss Scully.  I'm
intrigued by what could have caused this."

"So am I."  She looked into his lovely eyes.  "Will you tell me if you
discover anything?"

He looked back at her.  "Of course.  I should let you go now."

"No hurry.  If you'd like to stay...I'd rather not be alone just yet."

Alex understood.  He understood perfectly, in fact, and an hour later,
Dana was perfectly happy to be sweetly kissing this near-stranger on
her overstuffed sofa.  He was a consummate gentleman.  He let her take
every initiative, being not too eager and quite eager enough to follow
her lead.  She wondered idly if he was worried about his superiors
finding out.

God, what was she doing?  What did she know about this guy other than
his academic interest in Edward Jerse and his occupation?  It wasn't
like she was in the habit of throwing herself into the arms of every
good-looking FBI agent she came across...the truth of which Mulder
could certainly testify to...

But God, he felt good, and she was so lonely...whose business was it
who she slept with?  It wasn't like she was ever going to see this guy
again...she didn't need control like she had with Ed.  It didn't matter
if she let him fuck her ten ways from Sunday.  It didn't...her train
of thought slowly petered away as she came back to what was happening.

His lips were gently ministering to her neck, just softly enough not
to bruise her, when she allowed her hands to drift to the buttons of
his plaid shirt.  He paused for only a second, then continued,
gracefully allowing her to spread his shirt and run her hands under it
 and his jacket.  The image was enough to heat her to melting: this
gorgeous man, suckling her neck and pressing her into her couch, with
his leather jacket and shirt still on but his smooth tanned chest bared
 to her.

Slowly, though, she began to lose control over the situation; every
move she made, he countered it and more.  Almost without knowing how
it had happened, she was in her bra and panties and he was bare to the
waist, holding her hands above her head and thrusting gently against
her, the soft material of those marvelous jeans scouring the inside of
her thighs.

Neither spoke.  It wasn't necessary to mouth cliches and call each
other "baby" as if they wanted to pretend that this meant something to
either of them.  Dana knew that after tonight, she would probably
never see Alex Krycek again unless he needed more information about
Ed.

Eventually, though, it became apparent that Alex took this situation
very seriously, at least from a viewpoint of conquest - she was going
to have to beg him, and when she did, he was going to make sure that
she had the orgasm - or orgasms - of her life.  Already she could feel
it building, brought on by the steady scrape of his body between her
legs and the slow sinuous progress of his tongue across her neck and
throat.

"Please," she whispered.

He looked up at her with smoldering eyes and a grin, then shook his
head slightly. She was going to have to do better than that.  He
pressed himself fully against her, letting her feel his member against
her womb.  She gasped, but it lasted only an instant, and he pulled
away.

"Oh, God," she moaned, burying her face in her arm.  "Please, Alex.
Ah  - *please*," her voice rose to a near-scream as he used his tongue
to pry her nipple out from inside her bra.

"All right," he grated sharply, and slowly let her hands go.  "But
you're going to have to behave."

They were the first words he'd spoken since she'd kissed him.  She
kept her hands still, above her head, watching him with heaving
breaths as he slowly pulled off his jeans and then her underwear.
Naked, he lowered himself carefully onto her.

He didn't come inside her, though, not for a long time.  She came once
with his hand between her legs and his mouth on her breast, again when
he kissed her there, pushing his tongue hard up into her and possibly
ingesting more of her juices than she'd ever produced before.  Only
when she had come again did he finally thrust into her.  He rode her
hard, as if she were an unwilling whore, and when he finally erupted
inside her it was enough to set her off, even though she had been
positive that she was spent for the night.

Dana thought she must have fainted after that, because when she came
to herself again, it was only because Alex's tongue was running up and
down her spine.  She was on her stomach, on the thick rug of her
floor, and he was sliding over her to enter her from behind.  This
time was quick and her orgasm was mingled pain with pleasure, with the
smarting of her inner muscles and the press of her body against the
floor.  She screamed his name and twisted wildly under him, feeling
her body rip into a thousand tiny pieces again.  Alex collapsed
against her heavily when he was done, his breath harsh in her ear and
his hand tight on her arm from where he had been keeping her from
being pushed across the carpet.  He fell asleep immediately after his
breath slowed.

Dana was wide awake.

She may have lost her wits that night, but she was certain of a few
things, and one of those was that it was not Alex Krycek's name she
had shouted that last time, and neither was it the name of her former
fiance.  And she didn't doubt that Alex knew exactly whose name it
was.

***

Mulder was sitting in his basement office, working on a case that
involved some exsanguinated humans, when a knock came to his door.

"Sorry, no one down here but the FBI's most unwanted," he called, but
his throat froze up when he looked up and saw Dana Scully standing in
the doorway.

"Hi," she said quietly.

"Hi," he said, shooting to his feet and tripping over them in his
haste to reach her.

"Why are you down here in the basement?"  She looked around curiously,
noting his "I want to believe" poster and a photograph of some crop
circles.

"Uh, well, I'm working on a special project.  Paranormal activities."

"Really?"  She looked intrigued.  "How did you get assigned to that?"

"Well, I didn't, really.  I requested it."

"Oh."  She looked like she wanted to ask more, but somehow he had the
feeling this wasn't a social call.

"What can I do for you, Dana?"

"I have something I have to tell you."

She looked so serious and pained that he led her to a chair and sat
her down, his heart thumping.  "Is something wrong?"

"Well, yes.  I'm afraid I may have done something that can jeopardize
your career."

He almost laughed.  Anything Dana Scully could do would be no worse
than the damage he'd already inflicted on his career all by himself.
But he simply crouched there in front of her, waiting.

"One of your colleagues...an Agent Alex Krycek.  He was investigating
Ed's...case and came over to my apartment.  I'm afraid he might know
about our...connection."

He wasn't following her.  "Your connection with Jerse?"

"No.  My connection with you."  She took a deep breath and looked him
in the eye.  "I slept with him, Mulder.  I slept with Agent Krycek.
And, um, when I...when I..."

"I understand."  He was dying, but he understood.

"I think I might have said something...um, your name."

Mulder looked at her blankly.

"He heard me say it.  He may...jump to conclusions."

"Dana," he said softly, aching to touch her face, but resisting the
impulse.  "Oh, Dana."

"I'm not sure...what the FBI's policy is regarding the conduct of its
agents.  I was afraid this might be a problem for you."

"It's a problem, Dana," he said slowly, "Only because I think I might
be having a heart attack right now.  Krycek has nothing.  If he wanted
to discredit me, he would have to admit that he slept with you in the
first place.  And since I might have to kill him for that, *he* is now
in the more vulnerable situation."  He couldn't stop staring at her.
She was gazing down at him with liquid eyes filled with apprehension
and misery, and all he wanted to do was take her and kiss her and make
her forget her little fling with Agent What's-His-Name.

But not here.  He couldn't risk her like that.

"I'm sorry to disturb you at work," she said quietly, and made to
leave.

"Dana, wait," he said, pressing her back down in the chair.  "Please.
Listen to me for a moment."

She looked to the side, and he saw the flush that was creeping up her
cheeks.

"I can't tell you what it means to me to know what you just told me.
You are a brave and honorable woman to come to me with this
information because you thought it might hurt my career.  But I'm more
glad to know because of the information itself."  He sat up on his
knees and leaned closer to her, forcing her to look at him.  "I can't
say I'm happy that you slept with this guy, but I'm very, very happy
that it was my name that you said -"

"Shouted," she admitted, and he grinned.

"Shouted, then.  I have hope again, that I might be able to get
through to you.  Can you sit here while I tell you about my partner
Diana?"

She said nothing, just looked down at her hands.

"Diana and I were partners for two years.  We started sleeping
together ten months ago. But it didn't work out for us, Dana.  The
other night, when she called, it was to tell me that she'd taken a job
in Europe.  When I got to work the next morning, she was already gone.
I knew that she would be leaving before I met you, Dana.  I knew that
it was only a matter of time for Diana and I.  And that's why I didn't
tell you.  I figured that she would be long gone before I even got to
second base with you."  He grinned sheepishly at her.  "I haven't
spoken to Diana since she left.  Haven't missed her, either.  But I've
missed you."

"It was wrong of you not to tell me."

"That's true.  But I was afraid that telling you the whole truth would
make you wonder if I was leaving something out.  You know, the guy who
tells his mistress that he's married but swears up and down that
they're getting a divorce.  I figured that when you'd gotten to trust
me a little more, when we got to know each other better..."  He took
her cold hands in his.  "And then I was worried about the time factor.
I couldn't risk a setback when your wedding was still on."

She gave a watery little laugh, and he realized that she had been
crying for a long time.

"Do you want to go get something to eat?" He asked her gently.

"Yes," she said, and Mulder felt hope beginning to build again.

***

From then on, it was just Mulder.  She spent all her free time with
him.  He would call her in the mornings just to say hello; she picked
him up for lunch every day; he came over every night.  And they kissed.

He was an amazing kisser.  Whereas her high school boyfriend had
kissed her like he would kiss an iguana, Ed had kissed her as a means
of getting her into bed - he hadn't succeeded, but he had tried often
enough - and Alex had kissed her like he wanted enslave her, Mulder
kissed her like he *wanted* to kiss her.  He thoroughly enjoyed kissing
her.  Many an evening she spent curled up with him on the couch, losing
count of the minutes that they kissed.  Once, Bull Durham was on TV and
she had to break off with him for giggling when Crash said, "I believe
in deep, wet, slow kisses that last for three days."  After that, they
got into a tickling war, which he had lost.  He was sensitive around
his knees.

But she was afraid.

He understood, she was pretty sure - he knew she wasn't holding back
in order to retain control over him.  She pretty much abandoned that
tack when the last man she tried it on attempted to fry her.  She was
afraid of what this could mean for her.  She was afraid of falling
head-over-heels for him.  The thought first came to her late one
evening, curled up with him on her sofa.

They were spooned together tightly with Dana in front, Mulder holding
her closely against him to keep her from falling off the couch.  They
were watching some old movie.  Dana was nearly asleep - she hadn't had
time to sleep lately, what with Mulder around in the evenings.  She
was vaguely aware of his hand running over her, from her knee, up the
curve of her thigh and hip, and up to her waist, then back again.

"It's late," he whispered in her ear.

She roused herself a little.  "Do you have to go?"  She asked
sleepily, arching her back to press herself further against him.

"I can stay," he murmured, his hand pressing into her waist.  She
could feel every subtle shift in his body: his breathing was getting a
little rapid; his shoulders tightened; and there was an
infinitesimally small movement in his hips.  Dana felt her throat go
dry.

"Don't you have work in the morning?"  She pressed her cheek to the
pillow of his forearm.

"I don't care."

She turned towards him - a slow, awkward process, for the smallest
misjudgment could send her toppling off the couch.  It required
pressing even closer to him.  When she was face-to-face with him, she
propped her head on one hand and looked down at him in wonder,
brushing his hair gently back from his eyes.

He was so beautiful.  What was he doing here with her?

He moved his head to kiss her palm, keeping his eyes steady on hers.
"Do you want me to stay?"

Doubt moved in on Dana.  "I...don't know," she confessed.  The last
time she had been on this couch had been with a complete stranger
....and the time before that had been that night with Ed, when she had
sent him home.  She flushed with shame.

"Then I'll go," he murmured.  "I want you to be sure, Dana."

"Are *you* sure?" She asked timidly.

"Yes," he said swiftly, and kissed her.  It was one of his "I'm-going-
to-die-if-I-can't-kiss-you" kisses, the ones she dreamed about at
night, the ones that left her with swollen lips and yearning when he
was gone.  She could sense his need, shared it, but there was no
pressure in his kiss beyond the question, the seeking of his tongue
against hers.

"I mean," she gasped when she had a chance, Mulder's marvellous lips
suckling gently on her earlobe, "Are you ready for more than just...
just..."

"Making love to you?"  There was a little smile in his voice, for he
knew precisely what effect his words would have.  Dana shivered
slightly, pressing his head to her throat.

"I'm not fooling around here, Mulder.  I don't plan on letting you go.
Especially not after we...make love."

"I'm ready, Dana," he breathed against her skin.  "And if you tried to
let me go, I'd come after you."

To be continued...