Pine Bluff Revelations (NC-17)

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On his knees.  He was going to die on his knees.  Would she know; would his body be found?  Yes, they’d probably want to display it somewhere.  Would she know that their conversation had betrayed him?  Surely they wouldn’t leave out that little detail.  And she would feel the guilt for the rest of her life.  


He didn’t want that.  Their conversation, finally, had been the first time he’d felt real since this whole thing had started.  What the hell had ever possessed him to think that he could go undercover without her?  If not beside him, at least at his back.  Nothing was right without her at his side and he’d never really told her that.  He’d started to once, too long ago, when they’d been interrupted by that damn bee.  He’d never had the, no, he’d never taken the time to fix that.


Wasn’t your life supposed to flash in front of you at the moment of death?  Maybe it was, maybe Scully was his whole life.  She was the only thing that mattered.  Why hadn’t he told her?  Why had he wasted the past five years?  He wanted her, he wanted to take her to his bed and love her.  Good time to finally admit that, right?


He should be thinking about the destruction that would be caused by Bremer’s toxin.  More people would die those horrible deaths.  He couldn’t warn them and Scully . . . She’d have to figure it out.  She would have to save them.  But how, she wouldn’t know which bank.  People would die while they tried to figure it out.


She’d been so ticked at him and not very gentle fixing his finger.  If he’d put himself in her place, not something he did often enough, he couldn’t blame her.  Talk about ditch, but he’d wanted to protect her.  Why couldn’t he remember that she protected him as often as he protected her?


The gimp was enjoying this, like he’d enjoyed breaking his finger.  Would he go after Scully now?  He couldn’t protect her, he couldn’t even save himself.  Scully.


The shot was deafening and he rocked forward expecting the concussion with his body, the pain.  Then the other man, his tormentor fell beside him.  What the bloody fuck?  He couldn’t rise, his legs wouldn’t support him.  What the hell was going on?


“There’s a car for you just over that rise.  Head south until you get to the highway.”


“Who are you?”


“Go on.  If they come out here and find us, they’ll kill us both.  Go.


At that Mulder made it to his feet, each step steadier as he raced toward the car, freedom, Scully.




Mulder raced up to the bank and more abandoned the car than parked it.  The police were in front of him immediately. “Hey!  Hold it!  Who are you?”


He had his ID out in his hand as he answered impatiently.  “FBI.  Who’s in charge?  Who’s in charge!  I need everybody out of the bank!”  Then he saw her, running toward him.  It took all of his strength to stay on task, to let even more time . . .




“The money!  They sprayed the money.”


“We got here an hour ago before any of the funds were touched or transferred.   The cash supply is being isolated.  It’s being locked down in the vault.”


He looked at her in wonder.  “How did you know it was this bank?”


“I recognized you from the surveillance tape.”


“With the . . .” his hand circled his face.


“Your finger.”


Why had he doubted her?  For the first time in a very long time, he smiled.  He took a step closer, but his CIA contact joined them along with Skinner.


“August Bremer, or whatever his real name is; he’s working with us,” Mulder reported to Skinner.


“Mulder, before you go any further you should know that the biotoxin they used may have come from government labs.  Our government,” Scully said quietly, watching him.


“You’re saying I was set up?”


Skinner spoke quickly.  “We have no definitive information to justify that position.”


“I was being used?  This whole operation?  The people who died in that theatre?” Outrage was clear in his voice now.


“Agent Mulder,” the CIA operative watched him impassively.  “Our government is not in the business of killing innocent civilians.”


“The hell they aren’t!  Those were tests on us to be used on someone else.”


“Those bills have been analyzed.  The money in the vault gave no readings.   There’s absolutely no evidence of any biotoxins. So, before you climb on any bandwagon . . . “


“You knew about this all along.  You knew about this the whole time!” Scully took a step toward the agent, but Mulder interrupted.


“I want that money rechecked.” 


“That money has been cleared.  It’s being used as evidence in a federal crime.”


“That money’s as dirty as you are isn’t it.  Isn’t it?”  God, he’d almost died without seeing Scully again, for this?


“Say that were true.  Then what do you hope to accomplish, Agent Mulder, as a whistle-blower?  To mobilize a civil rights action? To bring down the federal government?  To do the very work that group you were a part of is so bent on doing?  What do you want?  Laws against those men, or laws protecting them?”


“I want people to know the truth.”


“Well sometimes our job is to protect those people from knowing it.  Excuse me.”  He walked away from them and then Skinner stepped away.  There was nothing he could add.


“Mulder, where have you been?  Are you all right?” Scully turned to him then, trying to push away what she’d just heard.


“Let’s get out of here,” he took her arm and led her toward his car.


He seated her then laid rubber pulling out.  He hadn’t been debriefed and he didn’t give a shit.  Used again, and it wasn’t even a damn X-File.


“Mulder.”  He heard the tone and slowed down, trying to get his temper under control.  “Where are we going?”


“I, I don’t know.”


She caressed his arm.  “My place?”


“Yeah, that’d be good.”


They were quiet then as he headed toward her apartment.  He followed her in, not touching her and she looked back to ensure he was with her.  He was, physically at least.  She opened the door and he followed her in.


“Get comfortable, Mulder.  I’ll get us something to drink,” she said as she hung up her coat.  He nodded and shrugged off his coat, then took his seat on her couch silently.  She watched him for a moment, then headed to the kitchen.  It was early, but they both needed to relax a little.  She pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses, then headed back to him. 


He watched her pour the deep red liquid and took the glass she handed him.  “Trying to get me drunk?”


“Would it help?” she countered.


He didn’t answer just watching her pour her own glass, then taking a seat beside him, not at the far end of the couch as she normally did.  It felt good.


“Can you talk about it?” she asked after a moment or two of silence.


He reached for her with his free arm and pulled her against him.  She didn’t protest, just getting comfortable, drawing her legs up onto the couch.  She didn’t push, if he could talk about it, he would.  She just let herself enjoy the sensation of his chest rising and falling.


“I thought I was going to die,” he finally said softly.


She didn’t turn, but cuddled more into this side.


“They heard us, Scully, talking in my apartment.  They knew I was a plant.”  Her gasp stopped him for an instant and his arm tightened around her.  “It’s okay.  Bremer is the one that knew and now I know he’s on our side, as it were.”


“What - “


“He marched me out, away from the camp after exposing me to everyone.  My good friend, the gimp accompanied us.”  He waved his casted finger in the air.  “He had me down on my knees in front of him, his gun at the back of my head,” Mulder’s voice was low, soft as though recounting a dream.  He couldn’t see her face, or the tears that welled up in her eyes.  “All I could think about was wasted time, wasted opportunities.  I’ve been searching for the truth so long, but I didn’t want to . . . Scully, I love you.” 


It took her a heartbeat or two to absorb the words.  His voice hadn’t changed, his tone still even, almost matter of fact.  She did turn then and he saw the tear escape her eye. 


So, was she going to let him down gently?  She pulled away and set her glass on the coffee table, then took his from him and put it beside hers.  Her hands free now, she cupped his face, her thumbs caressing the stubble, and looked up into his eyes.


Her lips parted, as though to speak, but instead she leaned into him and kissed him.  In shock, he felt her pull away and their eyes met again.  The wonder in his caused more tears to escape.


“Was, was that goodbye?”


She blinked.  “What about that would make you think goodbye?” she asked confused.


“You’re crying.”


She had a tiny smile on her face as she dashed away the tears.  “I was wishing I’d been there with you, for you - “


“No.  I’m glad you weren’t there.”  His arms tightened again.  “I could think of you, here, knowing you were safe.”  His head came down and brought their lips together again.  Her arms went around his neck and held him close. 


When they broke for air they were reclined on the couch, his body pressing hers into the cushions.  He lifted his head, but not his body still holding her in place.  “Scully?”


She smiled, and pressed herself against him.  She felt his response and looked into his eyes.  Her hands were at his shoulders, not pushing him away but massaging him, easing the tension from his shoulders.  Except it was growing elsewhere.  Her hands moved down his back and he felt her pull his turtleneck from his slacks.  The feel of her warm hands against his flesh was an electric current completing a circuit that was all consuming.  His lips found hers again.


When they broke for breath, her hands were tugging on his sweater.  He assisted her in removing it over his head and her fingers outlined his pecs causing his breath to catch.  He reached for the buttons of her blouse and discovered little pearl-like things.  He made a couple of attempts to unbutton them without moving too far away.  She grinned at his fumbling and he growled, then met her eyes and pulled the blouse open.  Small pearl buttons flew, he heard two of them bounce off the coffee table.


Her eyes widened then closed as his lips found her nipples.  Other clothes were discarded as heart rates climbed.  “Bedroom?” he asked breathlessly when they took a breath.


“Too far,” she responded reaching for his boxers.  He grinned in delight and moved far enough away to allow her to divest him of the offending article.  When he sprang free her hand grasped him and he gasped.


She nodded and his fingers touched her there.  He was delighted and a little humbled to realize that she was ready for him, she wanted him.  He met her eyes and she nodded again. 


He entered her slowly, giving them both time.  Once he was fully sheathed within her he stopped, watching her.  No words were needed.  They moved together, they had spent too much time together not to be in synch now.  Each time he sank back into her it was a homecoming, her body welcoming him.  He wanted her enjoyment, her fulfillment as much as his own.  His fingers caused a sharply indrawn breath from her and her body tensed for an instant, then she let go, let the sensations overtake her.


Dana Scully coming in his arms, that alone was almost too much to take in, but his own climax was close.  Another thrust, two and he was coming as well.  She held him tightly as he had held her, safe in each other’s arms.


When he reluctantly left her body he rolled, letting her recline on his chest as they came back to themselves.  He pressed his lips to the top of her head.  “Maybe he did kill me.”


She jerked, rising up and looking down at him.  “What?”


“Well, it makes sense.  This is the heaven I dreamed of.”


She punched his chest then and he saw the tears filling her eyes.


“No, I’m alive, Scully.  I’ve never been more alive.  I’m with you.”


She nodded and cuddled in.  He pulled the afghan off the back of the couch and covered them, safe for the night.





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Mulder, Scully, the Lone Gunman and Skinner all belong to Chris Carter, 10-13 and Fox. No infringement intended.