Author's Note: One of Hermes' favorite games was to disguise himself
as a mortal and go around on Earth causing trouble.

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, yet
not wanting to be constrained by what was supposed to happen when.

Much thanks to Tinka and Audrey for beta services.  You guys rock.
 
***
 
"Hey, Dana."

It was late in the evening about a week later and Mulder hadn't come
over.  She was just beginning to get worried.

"Hi," she said in relief.  "I was wondering where you had got to."

"Sorry.  Something came up at work and I'm going to have to go out of
town."

Her heart fell down to her knees.  "Oh?"

"Yeah.  I've got six babies with tails in a little town that only has
one grocery store."

She thought for a moment. "That's a statistical improbability of the
highest order."

"Yeah, that's why I'm going to look at it.  Apparently, most of the
people had the same OB-GYN, so it may be a case of some kind of
fooling around, but I want to check it out anyway."

"That sounds kind of fun."

"I wish I could take you with me," he said quietly.

"So do I," she whispered.

"Do you want to plan something for when I get back?"

"Sure.  Dinner at my place?"

She could almost hear his grin.  "That sounds great.  I'll see you in
a few days.  I'll give you a call."

"Bye, Mulder."

"Bye, sweetheart."

She didn't hang up the phone for a minute, contemplating that word.
"Sweetheart."  He had never called her anything like that before.

Smiling, she went to bed and fell into dreams of him.  Maybe when he
got back...maybe.

***

The man who wore Mulder's suit hunted around Apartment 42 for a while,
scorning the piles of case files and the contents of the refrigerator.
Without much hope, he turned to the answering machine.  This guy was
even more of a loser than he was.  The most he could hope for would be
a call from a 1-900 number announcing the new rates or some creepy guy
with a theory on JFK's assassination.

*Beep.* A female voice cleared her throat nervously. "Hi, Mulder," she
said shyly, and the man's ears pricked up. He tripped over his feet to
get back to the desk.  "It's Dana.  I know it's only Tuesday, but I
wanted to call.  To remind you about dinner.  Please call when you get
in."  Another embarrassed sound.  "I miss you.  Bye."

The man wearing Mulder's suit smiled largely.

*Beep.*  "Hi, Mulder, it's me again.  I had been expecting to hear
from you before now, so I thought I'd call and..." she trailed off.
Even in her nervousness, her voice was low and had a pleasant effect
on the nerves of the man wearing Mulder's suit.  "I guess I'm making
sure you're not home and avoiding me.  I know I'm paranoid...I just
miss you.  I hope your case is going well.  I'll see you soon.  Bye."

The man in Mulder's suit looked around for an address book and found a
Dana Scully's phone number scribbled in his Filofax.  He turned to the
phone book and looked up her address, humming under his breath.

***

When Dana's doorbell rang, she jumped.  She'd been waiting with bated
breath for Mulder's call, sitting by the phone like some kind of a
lioness stalking her prey.

Looking through her viewer, she nearly gasped out loud. There, looking
decidedly goofy with a big grin on his face, was Mulder.

"Mulder!"  She threw open the door.  "I thought you were going to
call."

Something about him was different.  He stared at her intently, almost
like he'd never seen her before.  His eyes widened a little bit, and
his grin faltered.  "Sorry," he said, producing a bottle of wine.  "I
got busy."

She cocked her head and studied him.  "How did the case go?  I had
some ideas while you were gone.  Do you think it's possible that -"

"Let's not talk about the case, Dana," he said enigmatically.  "I've
missed you."  He leaned in and kissed her cheek lingeringly.

She forgot all her questions.  "I missed you too, Mulder," she
answered, feeling her cheeks flush as she sank back against the
doorjamb.  Smiling at him warmly, she touched his lips with hers,
noticing a slight intake of his breath as she did so.  She then stood
upright, brushing her body against his in the process.  She took the
bottle of wine, her fingers grazing his, and turned towards the
kitchen.  "I'm afraid I don't have much to eat around here.  I was
planning on going shopping when I heard from you.  So, instead of
chicken tetrazzini, I can offer you some spaghetti-o's or a grilled
cheese sandwich."

"I'm fine, Dana," he said.  "I just want to sit and talk with you."

He was different, but she still liked him.  He asked her all sorts of
questions.  It was a new approach.  She knew Mulder was a little self-
centered - intelligent people usually were - and he tended to run off
at the mouth sometimes.  She found herself telling him stories of her
high school prom and her sister's adventures in California.

"Do you have work tomorrow?"  He asked, swirling his wine idly in his
glass.

"No," she said.  "You?"

"It's covered," he said.  He moved in a little closer.  "Dana, what do
you see in me?"

She smiled and touched his jaw.  "Your intelligence.  Your strength
and conscience.  Your ability to make me forget what a bastard you can
be."  His brow furrowed at this.  "I still haven't quite forgiven you
for lying to me about Diana," she said gently.  "But I'm getting
there.  And you have the most beautiful mouth."  She leaned over and
kissed him softly.

"What are you thinking?" He asked, a little breathlessly, when she
moved back and picked up her wineglass with an unsteady hand.

"I'm thinking..." she gazed down at her hands.  "I'm thinking that
you're different tonight.  I like it."

She could see, out of the corner of her eye, Mulder set his glass down
and come even closer.  This kiss was different.  He had kissed her a
million times in the last few weeks, but this was just a little
different.  And suddenly, she knew something was wrong.

"Mulder?"  She pushed him back a little.

"Yes?" His voice was a little husky.  His eyes were smoky, but not in
the same way as she was used to.

"Nothing," she said shakily, and touched his jaw.  "Something seems
different.  Maybe I'm just imagining it."  She leaned over and pressed
her lips to his.

Her Mulder radar was gone. She missed, and they bumped noses.  He
laughed a little and threaded his fingers through her hair.  "Dana,"
he murmured between kisses, "You are so beautiful."

And then the door burst open.

There stood Mulder, with a gun in his hand.

Aghast, Dana glanced between the two of them.

The Mulder who sat next to her on the couch sighed and closed his
eyes, then morphed weirdly into a plump, balding young man with gentle
eyes and a not-too-bright face.

"You son of a bitch," the new Mulder hissed.

"Mulder?"  Dana asked in astonishment, scrambling off the couch.

"Did he hurt you?"  The new Mulder asked, pocketing his gun and
turning to her.

Ah...this was Mulder.  Dana relaxed into his embrace.  "What..." she
mumbled, but didn't have the presence of mind to say more.

"Shh, Dana.  Just wait here, and I'll be back soon okay?"

Dana nodded, her head spinning a little, and looked again at the man on
the couch, who was watching them with resigned interest.  Then Mulder
dragged him to his feet and out the door, and she was left to get
slowly furious and wonder what the hell had happened.

***

"Check your answering machine," were Van Blundht's last words to
Mulder when he left the jailhouse.  He thought about going over to his
apartment to do just that, but instead went straight back to hers.

Dana was there, sitting still on the couch with her legs crossed in
the lotus position.  "What in the hell was that?" She burst out.

"I'll explain later," Mulder said, going down on his knees before her
and taking her arms.  "It's me, sweetheart.  Do you believe that?"

Her gaze searched him.  Swiftly, she bent down and took his mouth in a
kiss that nearly unmanned him, holding his face in her hands to keep
him from rocking backwards.

"It's you," she whispered when she released him. Panting slightly,
Mulder looked up at her from beneath his eyelashes.  She had never
kissed him like that before.  And it was Eddie Van Blundht that had
started it.

"Did he...touch you?"  He asked.

"He just kissed me.  But, Mulder..."

"What?"  He was having trouble concentrating on rational thought.
*Tonight, please God, tonight.*

"I would have let him do anything.  I was ready to be with you.  And
I'm ready now."

Mulder swallowed convulsively.  "Dana...did you make that decision
before he came over?"

"Yes."

There was something wrong here.  He searched his mind for what it was
and realized..."Tell me why you slept with Krycek."

He could have bitten his tongue - this wasn't the ideal time to bring
up a woman's past lovers - but she didn't get upset.  "I was angry,
Mulder.  Ed was nuts and you were...well, a bastard, and Alex Krycek
was sitting there trying to understand me.  Actually, I think he
seduced me, but that's neither here nor there.  I was mad, Mulder, and
I needed to have control over something."

"Like you'd had control over Ed by denying him."

"Yes," she whispered, and was forced to lean back against the couch
when he pressed into her.  "But I don't want to control you, Mulder,
I promise.  Just let me love you right now."

It was incredible.  He was unlike any man she had ever been with, in
strange and subtle ways - every move he made, every look he gave her
had a message, and the message was the same.  She knew what he was
going to say before he next opened his mouth.

"Dana," he hissed against her throat, "I think I'm falling in love
with you."

"I know," she said.  "I know exactly how you feel."

"What do you want?"  He asked, taking her knees in his hands and
straightening her folded legs, then pulling her close to him to bury
his face between her breasts.

Dana's head fell backwards, her muscles gone all buttery, and it was
all she could do to tell him, "Bedroom."

Mulder didn't need to be told twice.  He picked her up, wrapping his
arms under hers and urging her legs around his waist.  She weighed
about as much as a ton of bricks, but he didn't care.  She was
delicious.

She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his
shoulder.  "Mulder," she whispered.  "Do something for me."

"Anything."  He was almost there.  With a little ingenuity, he got the
bedroom door open and turned on the lights.

"Call me Scully."

Mulder laid her down gently on the bed, then sprawled out next to her.
"Call you Scully?"  He asked with an incredulous air.  "What in the
hell for?"

"I don't know," she said.  "I've been wanting to hear you call me that
for a long time.  Maybe to balance my calling you Mulder."

Mulder watched her eyes as she brushed his hair back from his
forehead.  It was a strange request, true, but somehow he understood
what she meant.  Maybe she was Dana to everyone else, but she could be
Scully to him.

"Scully," he whispered, and leaned down to kiss her.

The sound of her surname on his lips sent a shiver down Dana's back.
She rose up fluidly onto her elbow and pressed him down into the bed
with her body.  He watched her, mesmerized, as she slowly unfastened
the buttons on his shirt.

"Is this his?"  She asked softly.  It was old, soft denim and
definitely did not look like a Mulder-type garment.

"Yeah.  He knocked me out, took my clothes and locked me in a boiler
room."

"That's just terrible," she said.  "Think of how nice it would have
been if I'd been the one locking you up."  She spread the shirt slowly
with her one free hand, brushing her fingers innocently over one
nipple.  He shuddered.

"Why, Miss Scully, that's a naughty thought," he said, and she hid a
smile at the roughness of his voice.

"Not nearly as naughty as some of the thoughts I'm having," she
murmured, and nonchalantly let her fingers drop down to his waistband.
She could feel his muscles tensing with each move she made.  "Relax,
Mulder.  I won't hurt you."

"You are hurting me," he said in a low voice.  "I'm going out of my
mind here."

"That's my intention, sir."  In the same slow, deliberate manner, she
removed all his clothes until he lay naked with her.  She, on the
other hand, was completely clothed.  Until she stood up, gently pressed
him back against the pillows, and performed the most sensual, the most
arousing, the most sweetly innocent striptease he had ever seen.  The
palms of his hands itched to get hold of her.

But, he had decided earlier in the evening that this was going to be
all about her.  He would not rush her in any way.  It had to be her
decision, and so he lay quietly in agony even after she slipped onto
the bed next to him.

"What do you want?" He whispered for the second time.

"Everything," she said, and the depth of her answer scared him.  He
had told her that he wouldn't let her let him go.  He was only now
beginning to understand what that meant.  If he slept with Dana
Scully, there would be no turning back.  There would be no "confusion"
or "stepping away."  Because neither of them would stand for it.  He
could only imagine what she would do to him if he ever pulled
something like that - and he knew that she'd regret it if she tried
it.

The sudden fierceness of that thought startled him.  Good God, when
had he become such a Neanderthal?

"What's wrong?"  She whispered in his ear, her lips just barely
tickling him.

"I'm afraid," he whispered.

"What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid of what I could become if we do this, Scully." The new
name seemed natural to him suddenly.  "I might turn into a stalker or
start killing people if you ever decided to leave.  I'm no better than
Ed Jerse."

She smiled a little and touched her tongue to the shell of his ear.
"Yes you are.  And I know exactly how you feel."

After that, it was all hot bodies and Scully's lips, her breath, her
eyes gazing up at him.  He forgot completely his vow to let her take
the lead.  She laughed joyfully, throwing her arms around his neck,
and tossed her head back against the mattress.  "Now," she said
breathlessly, and he was powerless to argue.

She was incredibly tight.  She seemed like a virgin, but he knew that
she wasn't.  Perhaps she had never been with someone of his size.  He
stopped after just an inch or so, hiking himself up on his elbows,
looking down at her.  She seemed fine, but he knew that he would begin
to hurt her if he went further.

"Are you okay, Scully?"

She smiled.  "I'm wonderful," she whispered

He licked his lips.  "I think this is going to hurt, Scully."

Her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck.  "It's never
hurt before."

"And the fact is that every man is different, Scully."

"I see that," she murmured in his ear.  "I feel it, too.  I know they
say that size doesn't matter, Mulder, but I must say that I'm
gratified."

He could feel a blush creeping up his cheeks.  "Bitch."

"Just do it, Mulder," she moaned suddenly, shifting against him.

He had never been so sorry to be right in his life.  She tensed as he
pushed slowly into her, going as gently as he possibly could and still
stay sane.  He was nowhere near fully inside her when he stopped and
looked in her face.

"I stand corrected," she said quietly.  She was breathing harshly, and
Mulder, with a grimace, pulled back out.

"No!"  She said, grabbing for him.

"Scully, this isn't good.  Let's wait for another night.  There are
ways to prepare you."

"I know that," she said, her nostrils flaring, "But I don't want to
wait.  I want you, Mulder.  Here.  Now.  I don't care if you hurt me."

"Oh, God," he groaned.  "All right.  Just indulge me for a few
minutes, though, okay?"

"Only a few," she said darkly.  And carefully, Mulder slipped his hand
down to the apex of her thighs and slid one finger inside her.

She moved a little, but clearly the movement was spurred by pleasure,
not pain.  He added another, stretching her by slow degrees, and a
third before he was satisfied.  She was arching against him, her
breath coming in short, shallow huffs, and he selfishly wanted to be
inside her when she came for the first time.

"Now, Mulder," she moaned.  "Now."

Mulder pressed his lips to her temple as he slowly pushed back into
her.  She was still tight enough to send jolts of electricity up his
spine, but not so resistant.  And not so reticent.

Scully was impatient with his gentleness and, without warning, grasped
his hips and pulled him down, all the way into her.  His elbows gave
out on him and he pressed down on her, savoring the feeling of her
breasts against his chest and her nose buried in his neck.  She was
very still, but it took him a moment to realize that through his haze
of hot, fragrant pleasure.

"Ah, God, Scully..."  he thrust once, reveling in her body.  "Are
you...okay?"

She didn't answer except with a slight nod of her head.

"Tell me the truth."  He had to work to make his tongue form words.

"It...hurts a little," she said in a tiny, strained voice.

He could believe it.  He was buried to the hilt, and she was so small,
so tight.  He forced himself to keep still and leaned down to kiss
her, engaging her mouth with his in a desperate attempt to get her
mind off the pain.  Soon, her body would adjust to his.  At least he
prayed so.  Even now, it was difficult to keep from moving, the
pleasure was so great.

"Mulder," she gasped when he gave her a chance, "Have I ever told you
how beautiful you are?"

He laughed a little.  "What?"

"You have a beautiful mind.  A beautiful soul.  A beautiful body."  At
this last one, she ran her fingers up his spine, causing him to arch
into her with a moan.  "And if you don't get that beautiful ass in
gear and fuck me, I'm going to have to maim you."

He had never dreamed that Dana Scully could talk dirty.  With an
incredulous laugh, he began to move in and out of her as gently and as
slowly as he could.

She was having none of it.  She lifted her knees to wrap her legs
around him - and suddenly found her pleasure.  He could see the
sensation strike her; somehow the change in angle caused the pain to
give way before the beauty of what they were doing, and all her
stiffness flowed away to someplace else.

Still, he was cautious.  But she didn't let that go on for long.
Clearly, her experience was greater than he had anticipated or she was
a natural born siren, because she knew exactly what to do to make
him lose control.  She used her inner muscles to caress him.  Unable
to reach his mouth because his head was thrown back, she suckled his
collarbone and his neck.  And when she wasn't doing that, she talked
to him.

It was her voice that did him in, it really was.  She spoke in near-
frantic tones of his body, and hers, of what she was feeling.  Her
words were so graphic that he could almost see what she was thinking
as she said them.  He had never known that a woman could feel such
incredible passion with a guy like him.

Her words took an abrupt turn at about the same time that he started
to feel her nails digging into his shoulders.  She started talking
about his seed, about making a baby with him.  And just as her words
were rising in pitch to something near a scream, Mulder's climax came
upon him like an alien craft hitting him in the head.  He joined her
in a hot, fertile, fecund kiss that ended only because she fainted.

For a moment after he came back to himself, panic was his main
emotion.  She was limp and still, her eyes closed, her knees suddenly
flaccid and sliding off his flanks.  But she was breathing, and her
heart was going about a mile a minute.  She had passed out.

With a very smug, very male smile, he gathered her up in his arms and
somehow got her under the blankets on her bed.  She had one of those
incredibly girly beds with lace and satin.  He could get used to
sleeping there with her.

For now, though, he was wide awake.  He felt more alive than he ever
had before.  He was never one to drop off after sex, a trait that had
endeared him to many a woman searching for a "sensitive" guy.  It was
only later that he disappointed them.

Not Scully.  He would never, ever knowingly disappoint her, except
maybe when it came to his quest to find his sister.  But she would
understand that.  He knew she would.

"Mulder," she murmured.  "Did I faint?"

"Yes," he said, smiling down into her drowsy eyes.

"I don't suppose you'll ever let me forget it," she said, gazing up at
him underneath her lashes with eyes that glittered with something like
love.

"Probably not," he answered with a grin.

"Do you have to go to work tomorrow?"  She asked.

"Tomorrow is Sunday."

She smiled.  "I suppose you'll just have to stay here, then."

"I think I can handle that."

***

When Scully woke in the morning, her first thought was cramps.  She
had always had a pretty irritating feminine cycle, and she was often
bothered by cramps all month long.  She stretched her body out,
wishing she'd bought some Midol the other day at the store, and then
became aware of another body in the bed.

She glanced over at the other pillow to find Fox Mulder sprawled like
some sort of a rubber chicken, his limbs going every which way, his
mouth open and slightly drooling.  Her mind, somewhat fuzzily, made
the connection between her body's discomfort and this tall, well built
man next to her.

Smiling, she rolled out of bed and put on a robe, then fished another,
less girly robe out of her closet and draped it on the chair next to
the bed for him to use when he woke.  With a bemused glance around the
room at their discarded clothes, she went into the kitchen to make
breakfast.

She was grinding beans for coffee, oblivious to everything because of
the noise of the thing, when warm arms slipped around her waist and a
ravenous mouth attacked her neck.  She shrieked, dropping the bean
grinder.

"Why didn't you wake me?"  He asked when she managed to turn the thing
off.

"I thought you might need your sleep," she said breathlessly, her
hands running up and down his arms, which were squeezing her so
tightly that she was having trouble breathing.

"I thought you had left," he murmured, burying his nose in her hair
and inhaling deeply.  "You shouldn't do that to a guy."

"I'm sorry," she breathed.  His fingers plucked at the tie of her
robe, loosening it so that he could reach a warm hand inside and palm
her breast.  "Oh!"  She said, gripping the counter.  She'd have to
remember that Mulder was armorous in the mornings.

"How are you feeling this morning?"  He asked.

She smiled distractedly.  "Wonderful," she murmured.

His husky laugh tickled her ear, and she tried to turn in his embrace.
He wasn't allowing it, however.  "I mean physically," he said.  "Are
you in pain?"

"Just pleasantly sore."  She leaned her head back to whisper in his
ear.  "Do you know how to get rid of sore muscles, Mulder?"

"How?"  He was running his hands up and down her torso, inching down
her belly.

"More of whatever it is that made you sore," she murmured, and he
squeezed her even tighter.

"Do you trust me?"  He asked.

She smiled.  "Yes."

"Let's get this off."  He slipped her robe off her shoulders, kicked
it out of the way, and pressed her up against the counter.  With his
help, she found herself lying face-down on the counter, her legs
dangling helplessly.

He stroked his fingers up and down her backside, leaning over to kiss
the middle of her spine.  "You are beautiful in the morning," he
murmured.

For the first time, Scully became aware of how she must look.  Men
could just roll out of bed looking perfectly fine, but women,
especially women with freckles, were not so lucky.  She ran a self-
conscious hand through her hair, but said nothing.  And it was good
that she said nothing, because she didn't want conversation to
distract from the slow push of Mulder's body against her.  He filled
her from behind, grasping her shoulders to keep her still.

It was an awkward position.  Scully felt the blood rushing to her head
and propped herself up on her elbows, trying not to be pushed forward
on the counter by the force of the man behind her.

"You'll have to hold onto my waist," she said breathlessly.  His arm
snaked around her middle, and suddenly it was easy.  She came within
mere minutes, biting down on her lips to keep from alerting the
neighbors.

"Did you mean what you said last night?"  He said roughly, his teeth
scouring her shoulder.

She knew precisely what he was referring to, and the memory sparked
her ardor again.  She could feel the tension building, and was almost
disappointed.  She would have liked to let him have this one.

"Yes," she gasped.  "And I don't care if it scares you.  If you don't
want my baby, Mulder, then you should have used something."

"I know," he murmured emphatically.  "I know."

Words disappeared after that, and Scully's climax was hastened by the
knowledge that Mulder had deliberately not used protection.  Fuck the
neighbors.  She screamed when he brought her to that place again, and
was gratified when he made a similar noise.  She could feel him
rushing into her, could feel her womb aching to receive him in a way
totally unrelated to sexual pleasure, and fairly exploded when the
moment came.

"Oh god, oh god, oh..." she said in a high, thin voice as he collapsed
on her, breathing heavily.

"Scully," he said, and they were quiet for a long time.

***

They spent the rest of the weekend holed up in her apartment, making
love frequently, eating occasionally and sleeping when they were
tired.

"This is the first weekend I haven't worked in over a year," he
remarked offhandedly as they shared a carton of Cherry Garcia ice
cream.

She glanced up, sucking her spoon clean.  "Why is that?  Workaholic,
are we?"

"Yeah."  He looked down at the ice cream that they shared.  It was
melting.  "I think it's probably time to tell you a few things about
me, Scully."

She remained silent as he poured out the whole story: his sister's
disappearance, his parent's divorce, his father's violent death, the
existence of the Smoking Man and all the other mad characters in his
mad life.

"Do you truly believe she was abducted by aliens?" She asked carefully
when he was finished.

"I want to believe."

"Why?"

"Because that would mean that she may still be alive.  Somewhere,
waiting for me to find her."

Scully had suddenly lost her appetite for ice cream.  She carefully
set down the spoon.  Her heart was breaking.  She remembered a line or
two from As Good As It Gets - "Why can't I just have a normal
boyfriend who doesn't go nuts on me?" and "We all want that, dear.  It
doesn't exist."

"You're spooked," he guessed accurately.

"I'm...concerned," she amended.  "I don't believe in those types of
things, Mulder.  I'm sure you didn't expect me to, or you would have
told me a long time ago."

"That's true.  But I also know that you understand why I believe what
I believe.  And yet it's not just blind faith, Scully.  I have whole
filing cabinets full of inconclusive proof.  Taken all together, it
adds up."

"Proof of what?"

"The existence of extraterrestrial life.  Their abduction regime and
plans to colonize.  As well as your run-of-the-mill sewer monsters and
vampires."

She swallowed a giggle, and he was glad that he'd been able to make
her laugh.

To be continued...