"We reeked of sex for days"

Special  Agent Fox Mulder was having a very good Monday morning. He could
hardly stand up, and he was sure he had a shit-eating grin on his face, but
he felt great. He couldn't remember when he had felt this-satisfied. Yep,
there was definitely something to be said about getting some.

He had been prepared for Janet to be kidding him. On the way to the
neighborhood Mexican grill, he found himself explaining, in all sincerity,
how the fight-or-flight rush of adrenaline caused a mild sexual rush.  Janet
was inspecting her face in the visor make-up mirror. "It's really a common
occurrence," he concluded.

She snorted. "Well, that gives me a whole new picture of federal law
enforcement." Her eyes slid sideways. "Don't worry, Agent Mulder, I won't
molest you."

"Damn."

"Not while we're eating."
 

They sat at the bar. "Is eating like a pig consistent with a victim
 profile?" she asked. He gave her a startled look. She lowered her forkful
of rice. "What, is it?"

"Kind of-I was just surprised because I used to be a profiler."

"Oh. Well, since Hazelwood and Douglas and Ressler all wrote their books, I
guess profiling just comes to mind. What do you do-if it isn't classified?
And does it have anything to do with all the dead bodies and the CDC crash
trucks that sealed off your building?"

He sat and looked at her for a moment. She held up her hands. "Never mind."

"No, that's okay-I just am involved with a lot of weird shit. Most of it is
so unbelievable that I don't try to explain it. " His cell phone rang.
"Mulder. Hi, Frohike. Wait a second." He stood up. "Excuse me for a moment,
okay?"
She nodded, mouth full. Mulder walked to the end of the bar and towards the
restroom. "Hey, Frohike, can you check out somebody? A lawyer here in
Alexandria-named Janet Durrell."

Frohike laughed. "Way ahead of you, my man. I picked your names off the
police scanners. They thought someone else had got shot in your apartment.
They don't like you, Mulder." He heard Byers say something in the
background. "Yeah, its him. Byers says she's clean-no connection with any of
our friends. Owns her apartment as part of her fee on a big civil case. But
she does criminal defense. Family all lives in North Carolina.  Single. Does
this mean the luscious Dr. Scully is available?"

"She's always been available, Melvin. She likes you more than she does me,
anyway."

"That's your fault, Mulder."

Mulder shut off the phone without further comment. He put it in his pocket.
It's always my fault, he thought bitterly. The whole fucking world is my
fault.

Janet looked up at him when he slid back on the barstool. Her expression
changed, out of one of faint annoyance into one of inquiry. "What?" she
asked quietly, pushing her platter out of the way.

"Nothing. It's been a shitty day. If you're done, can I have your burrito?"
She silently pushed the food to him, and signaled the bartender. Mulder took
two bites, and turned back to her. "It's been a shitty year."

The bartender was in front of them. "Top shelf margarita, no salt, on the
rocks for me." She looked at Mulder.

"The same," he said.

"Doubles," Janet told the bartender. "Run a tab." She tapped her credit card
on the bar. "So you do unbelievable shit and hate your job."

"I don't hate it. I don't see the point of it any more." He looked down at
the glass that had materialized in front of him, and took a big gulp. "This
is a bad idea." He didn't realize that he had said it aloud, until she
smiled.

Janet held out her hand. "Gimme a quarter." Mulder blinked, but played along
and pulled a handful of change out of his trouser pocket. She picked a
quarter out of his palm. "Okay. You've just retained me. I can't tell a
living soul anything you say to me. What's wrong?"

Mulder swallowed. "The kind of work I do got my father killed, and my
partner's sister killed. My partner is recovering from cancer, but she's
sterile. My sister was abducted when we were kids, and I didn't see her for
twenty-five years. I spent years looking for her, and when I found her
alive, she didn't want to have a relationship with me. " He took another
drink. "My partner thinks-my partner thinks-" he stopped. "That's why I don'
t talk about my job."

Janet took a deep breath. "Well, even though we're probably not going to be
friends  if I pursue this, I'll just say what I think. How is any of this
your fault?"

He stared at her. "I'm the psychologist here." His drink had mysteriously
refilled, and he drank it.

"Well, excuse me, but I haven't had time to run a background check on you."
He flinched at background check, and she ignored him. You may have the
degree, but you aren't practicing, are you? And you certainly aren't-"

"It's completely my fault. I started the investigations that made-"

She overrode his voice. "Could you have prevented these from happening? No?
Well, would you have done everything in your power to stop them if you
could?"
She handed him her glass.  He drank it, staring sulkily at her. Why the hell
was he having this conversation with this total stranger? She put her hand,
fleetingly, on his. "Work with me here."

He gave her a half-embarrassed look. "I'm a morose bastard. That's my other
problem. Why do you care?"

"You're my hero. You saved me from a bad situation. And I really don't want
to think about what Freaky would have done if he'd gotten me in the car."
She looked at her watch. "If you can drive, we can get home in time to watch
Plan Nine from Outer Space."

"I can drive, " he said. "You're the one who's supposed to be drinking. And
Freaky probably would have been horribly embarrassed and let you go."

"Well, stop at the liquor store up the street," she said equably. "I'll
drink at home."
She picked up her purse. "And Freaky would have raped and killed me and
never known the difference. But I bow to your superior experience." She
swallowed, hard, but her chin trembled.

"Don't try to be too tough, Counselor," Mulder said gently, rubbing her
upper arm.
 

Back her place-a very nice place, Mulder thought, remembering Frohike's
words-Janet turned on the television. "I've got to take off this suit. You
really don't have to stay-you don't look comfortable."

Mulder opened his mouth to say goodbye, and found himself saying, "I'll
stay. Let me go get my gym bag out of my car, though." She handed him the
apartment key.

"Let yourself in. If I'm in the shower, for God's sake don't do the Psycho
bit. I'll have a stroke."

She was in the shower when he came back up the stairs, and after a moment's
hesitation, he took his bag into the bedroom and changed into his sweats.
Jesus, I haven't been in a woman's bedroom in years, he thought. No one but
his partner had even touched him for years. And as far as Scully went, she
acted like he was-he jumped as the door opened.

"Gosh, I was hoping you weren't decent," Janet said. She was wearing a baggy
sweatshirt and leggings. She eyed his sweatshirt logo. "There's a Knicks
game on right now, if you'd prefer." She had the bottle of tequila in one
hand and an empty shot glass in the other. "Shot?" She filled the glass.

He took the glass from her and drank it down. "You're really a little upset
over tonight, aren't you? Go ahead, you're entitled."

She refilled the glass. "That's why I'm acting this way. I'm extremely
upset." She swallowed the tequila, and looked up. Her eyes were bright with
unshed tears. "I'm very very upset." And she sniffled.
Mulder took the glass out of her hand. "Come on. Let's watch tv. I know what
it's  like. Living alone sucks sometimes, doesn't it?" He put his arm around
her shoulders and led her into the living room." The Knicks were playing.

Janet gave a watery chuckle. "Oh, go ahead. You're wearing their
 sweatshirt."
She sat down on the couch and patted it. "Just give me back my glass."

"Give me another shot, " Mulder said, turning up the volume. "This could be
a good game."
 

Mulder jolted awake hours later. ESPN was showing some California game;
Janet was nestled drowsily against his chest, and he was as stiff as a
board.
He was still assimilating this information, when Janet stirred. "I was
wondering when you'd wake up," she murmured. She shifted in his arms and
laved her tongue against his neck, and put her hand on his erection.

"Will you respect me in the morning? " Mulder asked, "Will you call me, or
will I have to follow you around the lunchroom-" Janet straddled him, and
put her tongue in his mouth. He put his own hand in her leggings. She was
wet. She kept stroking his cock until he shoved her on her back. Grinning at
him, she pulled off her leggings and sweatshirt while he pulled off his
sweatpants.  She was holding out a condom. "Lubricated and ribbed. And
EZ-tear.  I'm impressed." After rolling on the condom (and happily not
ripping it) he crawled back on top of her, and fumbled around between her
legs, searching for her opening. "Jesus, you're tight."

She laughed. "It's been so long, I think I was revirginized." He pushed
inside her and they both gasped.

"You're lucky I remember how to do this," he said, beginning to stroke her
clit. "I haven't-" She wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Oh, I'm lucky, " she said faintly. "Oh God-there-Yes. There," and she
suddenly came hard, bucking against him and causing him to come. He
collapsed against her, slick with sweat. She held him tightly, and kissed
the side of his jaw. He squeezed her, hard. He thought his eyes were
crossing.

"Let me clean up, " he said, "and lets go watch the bedroom television." He
leaned on his elbows and looked into her dark eyes. "I had a clever remark,
but I forgot it."

She smiled at him. "Let's go to bed."
 

To his surprise, Mulder fell into a deep and dreamless slumber. He awoke
while it was still dark, to find Janet's leg slung over his thighs, her
breast pressed against his arm. He rolled over and parted her legs, running
his fingers over her clit and putting a finger inside. She woke with what he
could only call an ecstatic gasp.

"You're a machine," she said. "But let me." And she bent and took his
rapidly hardening erection into her mouth.

He decided to let his eyes stay crossed.
 
 

"Mulder?" Scully's voice came to him. He realized that he had been sitting
and staring at his computer screen for quite some time. He gave her his
usual deadpan, affectless expression.

"Oh, morning, Scully."

"I didn't hear from you all weekend," she said, a little sharply.  "Which
was a nice change, of course, but were you all right?

"Scully," he said, picking up a file, "I'm just fine."