R1C1



   *NO ARCHIVE* to ephemeral and gossamer, I'll

   take care of them myself.



   Title: In Amor, Vis Vires; WIP, 2 of 8



   Author: Andrea



   Rating: PG-13, but eventually NC-17



   Category: MSR, S, MT, Mulder POV



   Disclaimer: Whatever, sue me.



   Notes: Thanks to Sybil, Aly, Jewel and Lari for beta reading.

   A special thanks to Lari for her medical expertise, as well.



   Archiving: I'd be honoured, but I'd also like 

   to know.



   Spoilers: Through season six



   Feedback: Yes, please! ardywyn@hotmail.com



   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



   Now that I was partially upright I got a better look at my

   surroundings. It seemed like Scully had a chosen a quaint Tudor-

   style English cottage. The kind I'd always wanted to stay in, but

   which Phoebe loathed. Too touristy for her tastes, she'd informed

   me tersely on many occasions.



   A fire was crackling pleasantly in the hearth, casting dancing 

   lights on Scully as she sat in the wingback chair jotting down 

   something in a small notebook. She looked considerably better 

   than she had the last time I woke up. The circles under her eyes 

   had faded and there was a hint of color in her cheeks. But it 

   wasn't just that, her entire demeanor seemed different.



   "You seem more relaxed now, Scully."



   "You think?" Her blue eyes sparkled in the firelight as she 

   laughed.



   "Were you worried about me?"



   "What do you think, Mulder?" She rolled her eyes at me.



   I didn't say anything.



   "What is that grin for?" She raised an eyebrow.



   I hadn't realized I was grinning. "I dunno -- I guess I like it

   when you worry about me." I tried to shrug, but the action sent a

   stabbing pain straight to my gut.



   "Mulder!" Scully jumped up from her chair. "You have an abdominal

   wound. Try not to move."



   As she adjusted some pillows behind me I could see her brow 

   furrowed with worry and her lips pressed tightly together. 

   One slight movement and I had her looking all pinched again.



   "It only hurt a little," I lied. "How much longer will I need 

   these?" I waved at the IV bags. 



   "Well, Mulder," she settled back into her chair, "I'd like to 

   keep the IV lines in for a while yet for a few reasons." Her 

   whole face changed as she slipped into her Dr. Scully persona. 

   Her eyes didn't sparkle anymore and her smile disappeared. I 

   definitely prefer Scully to Dr. Scully, but at that point I was 

   more in need of Dr. Scully's skills.



   "What reasons?"



   "Primarily the antibiotics, but I could just leave the port in

   and administer them that way. Right now, I'm giving you 

   painkillers intravenously, but I was going to give you your next

   dose intramuscularly."



   She chuckled at what must have been a look of distaste on my 

   face.



   "I'd also like to make sure you are keeping some nourishment

   down, too."



   "I'm drinking water now, and I wouldn't say no to something to 

   eat, either."



   "That's good, but not enough. Tomorrow I'll probably take you

   off IV fluids. But now that you're doing better, I'd like to

   remove your catheter."



   "Catheter?" It came out as a squeak.



   Scully nodded almost imperceptibly. Lifting up the sheet, I took 

   a quick peak, and there it was -- the white tube.



   "Haven't you been catheterized before, Mulder?"



   "Not that I remember." I thought back over my past 

   hospitalizations. 



   "I'm sure you have been, you must be blocking it out." She was

   trying to hide it, but I could see a smile twitching at the 

   corner of her mouth.



   "Will this hurt?"



   "No, it'll be more like an unpleasant sensation."



   It was difficult for me to believe having that tube pulled out

   of my cock wasn't going to hurt. I had to wonder what Scully 

   considered an 'unpleasant sensation'.



   "I promise, I'll be gentle with you, Mulder," she chuckled.



   The tone of her voice made me smile. If she was joking about it,

   it might not be too bad.



   "Just let me get my gloves and we'll get this over with." She 

   stood up again.



   "Gloves?" Suddenly I was confused. Why wouldn't she want to touch

   me?



   "I try to keep my hands clean, Mulder, but I don't want there to

   be any risk of infection." She was using her doctor voice.



   "Oh," my voice sounded tight.



   I watched as Scully pulled on a pair of blue gloves and then 

   lifted the sheet up from my feet. She left it bunched on my 

   abdomen so I couldn't see exactly what she was doing -- not that

   I wanted to. Instead I kept my eyes on her face. She seemed to be

   concentrating on something, but I hadn't felt her touch me yet.



   "What are you doing?"



   "I have to deflate the little balloon that keeps catheter from 

   slipping out of your bladder and I'm done now." As she finished 

   speaking I felt her hand close around my shaft. Even given the

   state I was in, the thought of Scully's hand on my cock was very 

   arousing. I was terrified I was going to get an erection and 

   embarrass myself.



   "I promise I won't hurt you, Mulder, but if you tense up like 

   that, it may be a bit painful. Try to relax and if it hurts at

   all, tell me and I'll stop immediately. Okay?"



   "Okay." 



   "Take a deep breath and exhale slowly on my command," she 

   instructed.



   Nodding, I waited for her command and then did as I was told. 

   Until Scully mentioned it, I hadn't realized I'd tensed up, 

   but at least she thought it was because I was a wimp.



   "Done!" her voice startled me out of my thoughts.



   "Done?" I repeated in amazement. "I didn't even feel that."



   "But you do have sensation in your penis?" She furrowed her brow 

   as her gloved hand returned to my cock.



   There was more sensation than I would ever admit to her. "It

   feels fine, Scully. I was really expecting it to hurt a lot more,

   that's all."



   "Good," she said briskly as she set my cock down and pulled the

   sheet back over me. "I'll be right back." She left the room 

   carrying some medical implements I didn't want to acknowledge.

   While she was gone all I could do was take deep breaths and be 

   thankful that I'd been under too much stress to respond to her

   touch.



   "Are you ready for something to eat?" I looked up into her 

   smiling face. 



   "I'm sure I could eat a horse." I patted my stomach.



   "Well, I think we'll have to start you off on a liquid diet and

   then move on to soft foods. I wouldn't want you to get 

   constipated."



   I couldn't believe my ears. Scully was talking about my bowels.

   There was nothing more humiliating. I completely understood how

   the elderly felt. What dignity could you possibly have left when

   the ins and outs of your intestinal health becomes a topic of

   conversation? Again my feelings must have been evident on my face

   because Scully began to speak very quickly, although she did

   manage to control her volume.



   "Look, Mulder," I wondered if my cringe was evident too. "I know

   all of this makes you uncomfortable, but I didn't feel I had any

   choice. Those men were hanging around your hospital room, just

   waiting for the moment they could finish you off. I wasn't about

   to let that happen. Now that I have you safely out of their way,

   I have to give you the best care I know how. What would be the

   point of bringing you all this way, only to sacrifice your health

   because you find some of this distasteful?"  



   "You're right, Scully, I'm sorry, but this isn't a conversation

   I ever imagined having with you."



   "It will all be over soon enough. You'll be up and around in no

   time, don't worry. I'll go make you some broth. You'll be

   surprised how filling you find it after your stomach has been

   empty for a couple of days."



   Of course, she was right and after I drank a cup of broth, I

   drifted off to sleep feeling warm and content.



   I'm not sure how long I was out, but when I fell asleep it had

   been dark outside and now sunlight was struggling to break

   through the clouds and illuminate the small bedroom. Scully had

   nodded off in the armchair beside me. It never failed to amaze

   me how the woman could fall asleep anywhere.



   "Scully." Not wanting to startle her, I kept my voice quiet.



   "Mmm?" She blinked slowly and straightened up.



   "I have to go to the bathroom, but I'll need help getting up."



   "You aren't going anywhere. I have a urinal for you to use."



   Before I could stop myself, I'd pulled another face.



   "Why are you making this so difficult? I need to see what your

   output is compared to what you're taking in."  



   "If it's any consolation, Scully, I'm a bad patient regardless 

   of who the doctor is."



   I was afraid I'd pissed her off again so the sound of her chuckle 

   eased my fears. I was lucky she considered me enough of a friend

   to tolerate my behavior and even forgive it.



   She left me alone while I used the urinal. After I called her 

   back, she left with the urinal in hand. Returning a few minutes

   later, she announced that everything was fine and the next time I

   had to go she would help me hobble to the bathroom.



   "Before I give you something to eat, I'd like to give you a

   sponge bath. In a few days, when you're stronger, you can 

   shower."



   At least I think that's what she said -- my ears had instantly 

   filled with white noise. I'm not sure if I answered or nodded,

   but Scully plowed ahead. She left for a minute and came back 

   with a basin and some towels. First she helped me roll onto my 

   side so she could wash my back. As she worked, she talked to me. 

   I think I participated in the conversation. Scully was telling

   me about the customs agent and the owner of the shop in the 

   village who delivered our supplies. She was still talking when 

   she rolled me onto my back. Then I no longer heard what she said.

   I was too busy panicking. My cock was relishing Scully's 

   attention and she was washing my arms. I was sure she intended to

   give me a thorough bath, and if was getting aroused while she 

   washed my arms, I was positive I'd have a raging hard-on by the

   time she reached my groin.



   I was afraid to see if I'd pitched a tent, so I kept my eyes 

   closed. Scully's voice still filtered through the haze in my 

   brain, but I had no idea what she was saying. Just when I thought

   she was about uncover my erection, I felt her start on my feet.

   For an instant, I thought I'd been granted a reprieve, but soon I

   realized she meant to finish by washing, as the British would 

   say, my bits and pieces.



   How could Scully not notice? I could feel my cock throbbing. I 

   tried to think about dead kittens, the flukeman, even all of the

   disgusting slime I'd ever felt obliged to stick my fingers into, 

   but nothing seemed to help -- not even thinking about Phoebe.



   Desperately, I clung to the faint hope Scully would avoid my 

   erection, but when she lifted the sheet, she went straight in for

   the kill. So, not only had she seen it, she was washing it with

   soap and water. There was so little blood left in my brain, I'm 

   surprised I was able to keep myself from moaning. What seemed 

   like eon later she moved on to my balls, and I, being the 

   gentleman I am, made sure my cock was well out of her way.



   I was still swooning when I heard her voice again -- something

   about dumping out the basin. After I heard her leave I dared to

   take a peak. It was worse than I thought. My tent could have 

   successfully sheltered a family of six. I couldn't fathom what

   Scully must have thought. She had never been shy in the past

   when it came to teasing me about my magazines or videos. She'd

   even roared with laughter when I told her about my "Nurse Nancy" 

   dream. Maybe she was taking pity on me because I was injured or

   maybe it was because she was trying to keep this doctor/patient 

   thing on a professional level. But now she knew the effect she 

   had on me. Maybe that's why she didn't mention it. She'd made it 

   clear in the past she didn't reciprocate my feelings. I had to 

   assume she thought it would be better just to ignore it.



   By the time she got back, my tent was collapsing. Still, she made

   no mention of the wood I'd been sporting. She just smiled and sat

   down in the chair again.



   "I can't tell you how relieved I am that you seem to be 

   recovering rapidly, Mulder. You didn't respond well to the 

   travel, so I thought your recovery might be slow."



   It almost sounded like Scully was saying she thought my reaction

   to the sponge bath was perfectly normal and it indicated 

   something about my health. I didn't have the courage to ask her 

   if my assumptions were correct.



   "Did you bring any clothes for me, Scully?" I decided to change 

   the subject.



   "Frohike packed a bag for you," she nodded.



   "Do you think I could put on a pair of boxers?"



   "Sure," she agreed. "As long as the waistband doesn't come close

   to your incision. It's probably a good idea. I doubt you'll want

   to hobble to the bathroom naked."



   "Probably not," I agreed as she got up to retrieve them.



   When she got back, she immediately proceeded to lift the sheet

   and put my feet through the leg holes.



   "I can do it." I stopped her.



   "Are you sure, Mulder?" 



   "Piece of cake."



   "Okay," she shrugged and backed off.



   When I tried to sit up to reach my feet a searing pain shot 

   through my abdomen. Stifling a yell, I lay back and took

   some deep breaths. Then I tried to reach my feet by moving my

   hand down along my leg. That created another burning wave of 

   pain.



   "Can I help now?" There was nothing judgmental in her tone.



   I could only nod. I didn't have to fear another erection, I was 

   in too much pain.



   "Can you lift your hips?" Scully's tone was gentler than I

   deserved.



   Bracing myself, I raised my hips as best I could. Since there

   was no twisting motion, there was no increase in pain, but my

   earlier stubbornness had my left side throbbing. Scully 

   quickly slipped my boxers under my ass and I let my hips fall 

   back onto the bed. Again I took some long slow breaths, but the

   pain didn't abate.



   "I'm going to give you something for the pain."



   Scully read my expressions too well, I hadn't said anything, but 

   she could tell I was having a hard time. I could hear her doing 

   something on the other side of the room and then she was at my 

   side again.



   "I'm going to have to roll you onto your side again." The

   compassion in her voice was soothing in itself. The slight

   sting of the injection was barely noticeable compared to the 

   burning in my belly.



   After Scully rolled me onto my back again, I felt the bed dip

   beside me.  Then I felt her hands on my head and then my 

   shoulders, caressing me tenderly. I felt myself being drawn to 

   her -- her familiar scent and softness. She took my head and

   cradled it against her chest; still running her fingers lightly

   through my hair. Her warmth, her fragrance and her touch all 

   served to keep the pain somewhat at bay until the painkiller

   had time to take effect.



   I have no idea how long we stayed like that. No words were 

   spoken, but Scully continued to hold me and caress me until I

   raised my head.



   "Better now?"



   She would likely never know how soothing her touch was to me. It

   worked just as well, if not better, than whatever she'd injected 

   into my ass.



   "Much," I said through the frog in my throat. I tried to move

   back to my pillows, but I was surprised to find I didn't have the 

   strength. Scully gently helped me sit back and then we were quiet 

   again while I let the drugs have their way with me.



   "How is your stomach?" Scully broke the silence.



   "I could stand something to eat," I admitted.



   "I meant had the Demerol made you nauseous," she laughed. "But I

   guess you answered that question."



   I was a little disappointed when Scully showed up with another

   cup of broth and a glass of apple juice. As it turned out, I

   could barely finish both, so I was glad I hadn't said anything.

   While I ate, Scully treated herself to some soup and half of a 

   sandwich; hardly more than my meager rations. But I'd known 

   Scully long enough to even dare thinking about calling her on it.

   I'd heard it all before. She knew exactly what she needed to eat

   to get her nutritional requirements and maintain a healthy 

   weight. Then she'd always curtly informed me that I should pay 

   closer attention to my own diet.



   "What day is it?" I asked once Scully had returned from taking 

   our dishes into the kitchen. 



   "March 21st."



   "First day of spring," I smiled.



   "Can't tell from looking outside." Scully nodded toward the 

   window.



   Although I estimated it to be around noon, it looked like dusk 

   outside. The tiny buds on the trees were fairly drowning in

   the steady downpour.



   "A couple of days of sunshine and those trees will be in full

   bloom," I tried to console her.



   "Two days?" she laughed. "I haven't seen two hours of sunshine 

   since we got here."



   "I'm sure the weather will turn soon."



   While we were talking, she'd been preparing a syringe. I was 

   bracing myself for another needle stick, but she put it on the 

   bedside table. Then she hung a new IV bag and stuck the syringe 

   into it instead.



   "I need to take a look at your incision," Scully informed me 

   after she'd disposed of the syringe.



   The gauze she had covered it with was not taped to my skin, just

   laying loosely over the wound. When she lifted it off, she 

   smiled.



   "This is looking really good." As she was bent over, peering

   happily at the healing gash on my upper left abdomen, Scully

   rested her hand just above the waistband of my shorts.



   "Let me get some clean gauze," she left my side for a second. 

   "I may even take be able to take the sutures out in a couple of

    days. I was afraid you might heal slowly after the all of that 

    turmoil, but you're recovering better than I'd expected." She

   placed the rectangular pad over me again. 



   I smiled inwardly. I don't think I'd ever pleased Scully this 

   much before. I'd have to remember to heal nicely for her more

   often. My thoughts were interrupted by a distinct gurgle from

   my gut. Looking up, I saw Scully's eyes widen. 



   "I felt that," she laughed. "But it's a good sign. I was waiting

   for it, as a matter of fact. It means you can start on soft food

   tomorrow."



   "Define soft food."



   "Jell-O, porridge and maybe even some pasta," she raised her 

   eyebrows suggestively.



   "Say it isn't so," I couldn't help grinning.



   "And in a few days," she paused for dramatic effect, "solid 

   food!"  



   "I have to admit, Scully, even though I know I couldn't handle it

    right now, I'm having unwholesome thoughts about steak."



   "When I decide you're ready, I'll make a nice steak dinner for 

   us," she promised. "Right now you look like you should get some

   rest."



   "I am a bit tired, but you look like you need some sleep too, 

   Scully."



   "I have dishes to wash, and I'd really like to have a bath."



   "Where have you been sleeping?"



   "Here."



   "In the chair?" I was wide awake again.



   "I was fine, Mulder."



   "Fine my ass! You need to sleep in a bed."



   "There's only one bed," she informed.



   "And plenty of room," I patted the bed beside me.



   "Maybe tonight I'll lay down on the floor."



   "You will not!" I protested.



   "I'll be fine, Mulder." She waved me off.



   "Look, Scully, if you don't get into this bed, I'll lay down

   on the floor. I don't care how much it hurts."



   "Mulder." 



   "Do you think I'm kidding?"



   "What if I roll over and swat your stomach or something?" She

   attempted a feeble argument.



   "Fine," my voice was terse. I began to shift my weight so I

   could inch my way to the edge of the bed.



   "Okay, okay," she relented. "Tonight I'll sleep in the bed."



   "Now," I countered.



   "Mulder, it's barely 1 in the afternoon."



   I began to creep towards the edge of the bed again.



   "Mulder! Stop that! I want to take a bath. And I have dishes

   to do."



   "I'll wait."



   She let out a sigh of defeat. "Okay, I won't be long." She

   glared at me as she left the room.



   I couldn't believe she'd been sleeping in that chair this whole 

   time. I'd assumed there was another bedroom and I'd just caught

   her napping in the chair. She must have been more worried about 

   me than I'd thought. This went a long way toward explaining why

   she'd looked so bad. I wondered how long she'd gone without any

   sleep at all. 



   It seemed like she hadn't been gone for very long when she showed 

   up in the bedroom in her silk pajamas. I think I must have 

   drifted off, because I could tell Scully had washed and dried her

   hair.



   "Happy now?" she smirked as she slid in beside.



   She had absolutely no idea how happy and for how many reasons, 

   but I only said yes. Reaching out I took her hand and squeezed 

   it. I was surprised she didn't pull it away, instead she shocked

   me by squeezing back. The warmth that spread through

   me helped me fall asleep, still clutching her hand tightly.



   end of chapter 2

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