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



Author: Andrea



Rating: NC-17



Category: MSR, S, alternating POV



Disclaimer: Whatever, sue me.



Notes: Thanks to Aly and Dan for beta reading.

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

This story somehow evolved into crossover with Dark Angel  :)



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

to know.



Spoilers: Through season six



Feedback: Yes, please! ardywyn@hotmail.com



If you are missing the first seven chapters you can find them

on my webpage:  http://members.rogers.com/faloona4/amorindex.html



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



Some slight noise had made me turn to look at the window. What I

saw there in the early morning light made my heart grow cold --

the muzzle of a gun. My first instinct was to put myself between

Mulder and the bullet. I heard the tink of the bullet as it

pierced the window without shattering it as I moved. While I was

waiting for the familiar hot thud of the bullet puncturing my

flesh, the bedside lamp shattered and fell to floor. I should

have realized that once I'd heard the sound of the bullet going

through the glass it was already too late -- the bullet was

travelling faster than the speed of sound.



I couldn't, for the life of me, conceive of how the shooter had

missed, but I wasn't waiting for lightning to strike twice.



"Floor," I hissed at Mulder and rolled to the other side of the

bed.



As I hit the floor I was shocked the see the shooter's

gunned hand shattering the window. Then I heard something being

pounded against the wall of the house. I had to see what was

happening outside.



"What the --" Frohike burst into the room.



"Get down," Mulder whispered harshly.



Since broken glass was littering the area, I had to pick my way

carefully to the now open window. I could hear the sound of the

struggle continuing. When I gingerly looked out of the window I

was amazed to see Skinner with a belt around the shooter's

throat; smashing his hand against the plaster wall. I was just

in time to see the gun falling to ground. Staying clear of both

of the shooter's flailing hands, Skinner managed to kick the gun

under the hedge that surrounded the cottage. Then my skin grew

cold in horror when I spotted another figure approaching from

the corner of the house.



"Behind you," I called a warning to Skinner.



Taking the would be assassin with him, Skinner spun around to

face the new threat. A glint of steel drew my eyes to the

second assailant's hand. Still controlling the man with the

belt, Skinner moved to use him as a shield against the

second attacker, blocking my line of sight. A chill went through

me when I heard Skinner gasp, I felt completely helpless.

Then Skinner let go of the belt and backed away. The assassin

slumped to the ground, a knife protruding from his eye; a wound

that would have killed him instantly. I was stunned to see Alex

Krycek bend over and retrieve his knife from the dead man's eye.

After wiping it off on his pants, he slipped it back into the

sheath that was strapped to his prosthetic arm.



"What's for breakfast, Dana?" He looked up at me, grinning.



"It's Scully to you, Krycek."



"That's gratitude for you," he huffed.



"God damn it, Krycek," Skinner boomed. "What are we going to

do with this body?"



"Drag it around to the back of the house. I'll deal with it

later. No one will miss him -- he didn't exist to begin with."



After shooing a still-shaking Frohike out of the room, I

described the events to Mulder as I cleaned up the glass and

the broken lamp. I helped him dress. Before we left the room,

I checked his temperature -- it was normal. His fall had

apparently only left him somewhat stiff.



When we got to the kitchen, the three men were sitting at the

table. Frohike and Skinner were glaring at an oblivious Krycek.



"It's about time," Krycek complained when he saw us. "I'm

starving."



"You're not serious?" I stared at him.



"Hey, this cloak and dagger business makes me hungry. I'd have

made my own eggs, but I like them over easy, and ever since --"

he held up his prosthesis, "I always break the yolks."



"If I do this, will you leave when you're done?"



"Remind me to send a copy of Emily Post's 'Etiquette'. I'm fairly

sure it's bad manners to be so hostile to the person who saved

your life."



"I had the situation under control, Krycek," Skinner didn't

sound amused.



"Not from where I was standing," Krycek contradicted.



"Enough," I help up my hands to shut them up. "I'll make the

eggs, okay?" I wasn't in the mood for a pissing contest. I just

wanted Krycek gone. I didn't care if he'd saved Mulder's life or

not, I would never trust the man. Fifteen minutes later I set the

plate of eggs down in front of him.



"When are you going explain what's going on?" Mulder scowled at

him.



"Can't a man enjoy his breakfast in peace?" he frowned back.

"These are good eggs, Dana. I didn't know you could cook."



"You were asked not to call her that," Skinner's hand had flashed

out to grab Krycek by the scruff of the neck.



"Does anyone want more coffee?" I got up to refill my cup,

ignoring the commotion.



"Not me, thanks," Krycek waved me off with his good hand,

Skinner's hand still at his throat.



"Yes, please," Skinner released his grip on Krycek's throat.



"Me, too," Frohike nodded. "So I was that easy to follow?" he

turned to Skinner.



"Wait until you grow up before you play with the big boys,"

Krycek laughed with his mouth full.



"No one was talking to you, Flytrap," Frohike snarled.



"Yes, you were that easy to follow," Skinner's face remained

impassive. "This whole thing could have been avoided if you had

told me where they were."



"I told him not to," I interjected. "I didn't think it was

safe. I also didn't think he'd be stupid enough to come here

himself."



"Hey, I screwed up. I'm sorry." Frohike said for about the tenth

time.



"You did well to get him out of the country when you did, Day --

Scully," Krycek was inspecting his plate as his mopped it with a

piece of toast.



No one spoke; everyone was looking at Krycek, waiting for him to

explain himself.



"This project, Project Manticore, is being run by a select group

of men. It's new and they're a little protective. Their recent

actions were not endorsed by my associates."



"Renegade Men in Black?" Mulder laughed.



"They aren't Men in Black," Krycek rolled his eyes. "They

represent certain global interests."



"Can't you come up with a new line?" I snorted.



"I didn't think you were working with them anymore -- you no

longer shared their interests," Mulder was shifting on his chair.

I would have preferred that he was still in bed.



"I work for them occasionally."



"I still fail to see what this all has to do with me," Mulder

was getting impatient.



"You are an irritant," Krycek shrugged. "But you'd be more of an

irritant if you became a martyr. Killing you would only draw

attention to your bizarre allegations. Alive you come off as

just another nut."



"I dunno," Frohike said, warily. "Maybe this is all an elaborate

ruse -- maybe they're trying to catch us off guard."



"Why would I have announced my presence if I was trying to catch

you off guard? Why wouldn't I have let you all think that

you'd gotten rid of the assassin?"



"Maybe that's all part of your plan," Frohike sounded doubtful.



"And the next part of my plan is to get that body out of here,"

Krycek stood up from the table. "Poka," he saluted us with his

good hand and left through the back door.



"I don't know or care what Krycek's plan is," I began as soon as

he was gone, "but we're getting out of here. Now that Mulder is

on his feet, we're safer at home."



"Now?" Mulder looked at me in surprise.



"Now," I repeated firmly.



Half an hour later Skinner came back into the cottage with a

surprised look on his face. I'd sent him to put some bags into

his rental car, but he'd been gone for about 20 minutes.



"Krycek is gone. So are the body and the gun. I have no idea how

either one of them got here, but there are no other vehicles in

the area that I can see."



Before we left, I wrote the landlord a note to apologize for the

damage and put 100 pounds in the envelope with the note. That

would more than cover the damage to the lamp and the window. I

was going to wait until we were safely on American soil to call

him and tell him we were gone.



Everyone was more than surprised when I told them I wanted to

fly out of Manchester this time. It would be a far longer drive,

but I figured a different airport would be less risky, in case

anyone recognized me at Heathrow.



"I know it's a huge airport, but I made myself very obvious

when we got here. I don't want there to be any trouble when we

try to leave," I tried to explained my logic.



During the drive, I had to explain myself to Skinner. He seemed

to understand my reasoning for taking Mulder out of the country,

but he was still livid at being left out of the loop. Telling

him that I'd do the same thing again in a heartbeat did little

to lower his blood pressure.



Since it was midweek, we had no problem getting a flight. Soon

after we took to the air all of the guys dozed off. But even

though I'd only had a few hours sleep, I didn't relax until our

plane touched down at Baltimore/Washington International.



After waiting ages for our luggage, it took another age to get

through customs. When we were finally ready to go I thanked

Skinner for his help and apologized again for having to keep him

in the dark. Then I herded Mulder into a cab and gave the driver

my address.



As soon as we were inside of my apartment my body began to shut

down. It was all I could do to get myself, never mind Mulder into

bed. If Krycek had been lying, and Mulder was still at risk, 

there would be nothing I could do about it.





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





I think Scully slept for two days straight when we got home. I 

found it quite humorous that she tried to insist on *taking care*

of me when she returned to the land of the living. I'm not sure 

what she thought I'd been doing while she slept.



"I'm fine," I used her own phrase against her. "I'm not even

stiff from my fall anymore," I exaggerated the truth. I was

only a little stiff.



"Still," she protested, starting to get out of the bed.



"Stay put," I instructed. "I'll bring you breakfast in bed."



"Mulder -- "



"I'm not taking no for an answer," I stood resolutely with my 

hands on my hips.



"Do you have a catheter? Do you even know how to insert one?" her

eyes were narrowed, her lips pursed.



"What?"



"Can I get out of bed to use the bathroom?"



"Oh, right. Sorry, Scully," I backed down.



When I returned to the bedroom with her bacon and eggs, the room

was well lit. Scully had opened the curtains and cracked the

window. A soft spring breeze was gently refreshing the room. 

Leaning back against the headboard with her eyes closed and a

slight smile playing on her lips, Scully hadn't looked that 

relaxed since -- well, ever. 



She'd brushed her hair and from the glow of her skin, I assumed

she'd washed her face. When I approached the bed she opened her

eyes, her smile blossoming.



"That smells goods."



"I thought you were happy to see me," I feigned hurt.



"I am. You were the one who insisted on cooking," she pointed 

out.



When I bent to set the tray down, Scully took the opportunity to

grace me with a kiss. Even though I'd been in bed with her for

most of the time that we'd been back, my body responded 

immediately to this intimate touch. If she noticed or was 

offended, she said nothing.



"Aren't you having any?" she asked, seeing only the one plate.



"I've already had breakfast and lunch," I informed her with a

smirk.



"So how long was I asleep?" she broke off a piece of her egg

and looked at the clock. "3:30, that's not too bad. We got home

at what, 4 in the morning?"



"Yesterday."



"What?" her fork stopped in midair.



"It's Friday afternoon, Scully."



"I couldn't have, there's no way..."



"I don't think you'd slept properly since I was shot, Scully.

Your body was trying to make up for lost time. You did get up a 

couple of times to use the bathroom."



"You shouldn't have let me sleep so long. What if something had

happened?"



"Nothing happened, Scully," I assured her gently. "Well aside

from the black car that's been parked outside of your apartment

since we got home."



"What?" she sputtered through a mouthful of egg.



"Skinner insisted. He doesn't trust Krycek. There's someone

watching the back door too."



"And how long does he plan to keep that up?"



"I know," I sighed. "I tried to convince Skinner to let it drop,

but he's like a bulldog that way."



Once she'd finished her breakfast, Scully pleaded with me to 

shower her, or maybe it was the other way around. Then she 

begged me to come to bed with her; something about wanting

to make love to me in her own bed. No matter how much I tried

to convince her that I was completely recovered, she still

insisted that the sex be slow and gentle. Not that I was 

complaining. Any sex with Scully was the best sex I'd ever

had.



On Monday morning Scully phoned Dr. Steele, the surgeon who'd

operated on me. I could only hear Scully's side of the 

conversation, but since she wasn't doing much talking, I assumed 

she was getting an earful. When she finally managed to get in a 

word, she explained the situation and it sounded like she was 

able to sway the Dr. Steele into accepting that she'd made the 

only decision she could given the circumstances.



"You have an appointment to see him on Thursday," she smiled

when she hung up.



"How many strips did he take off?"



"Oh, a few," she shrugged. "He threw in 'you should lose your 

license for this' a couple of times in for good measure."



"He wasn't serious?" my stomach fell.



"Only a little, but I gather Skinner had already talked him out 

of it."



"Having a bulldog on your side can be a good thing," I let my 

breath out slowly.



"I've been on the wrong side of his bite often enough to want to

stay on his good side," Scully chuckled.



Spending down time with Scully turned out to be one of the most

enjoyable experiences of my adult life. We went shopping for 

groceries and made love in the afternoon. We went for long walks

in the spring sunshine and made love in the evening. We curled up 

in front of a fire on cool spring nights and made love in the 

morning. We sipped coffee at a sidewalk cafe and made love in the

middle of the night.



My appointment with the Dr. Steele was right after lunch on 

Thursday; his mornings were apparently reserved for surgery. 

Scully stayed in the outer office while I got naked and was

poked and prodded. The man basically said nothing to me except

to tell me what state of dress he wanted me to be in. He didn't 

even ask if anything he was doing was causing me any pain. 

He did seem to be watching my face for reactions. Being a surgeon,

it seemed, didn't require an outstanding bedside manner.



When he left the examination room after telling me to get 

dressed, he apparently went right out to talk to Scully. When I

joined them in the outer office, Scully was thanking him. He then 

shook my hand briskly and disappeared through the door that led

to the examination rooms.



"So?" I inquired.



"What?" Scully looked up at me as we walked out of the office.



"What did he say? He didn't tell me anything."



"Well, I won't quote him exactly, but he said that you were ship-

shape. Although you still shouldn't offer to help anyone move for

a few weeks yet," she smiled.



"Is that all he said?"



"Well he did say he was amazed at how well you'd recovered 

considering the fact that I dragged you halfway around the world,"

she chuckled.



"Was it a faster than normal recovery?"



"It's on the early side for someone who'd had no complications,

and hauling you out of the hospital so soon is a fairly big

complication," she winked.



"Then how do you explain my recovery?"



"Dr. Steele said 'In amor, vis vires'."



"I beg your pardon," I furrowed my brow.



"In love, strength," her voice was quiet.



In the hallway of the medical building I stopped, took her into 

my arms, and pressed a soft kiss against her lips. I don't think

Scully had any idea how often her love, even when it was 

platonic, had kept me alive.



We rode in a comfortable silence to the lobby. When we got to the 

parking lot a question that I hadn't thought to ask Dr. Steele

occurred to me.



"Does this mean I can go back to work?"



"No field work, but parking your ass behind a desk will be fine."



"Woo hoo," I tried to contain my enthusiasm.



"I could restrict you to bedrest for another week or two, if 

you'd rather."



"I'm not all that good at resting in bed," I winked at her.



"Or on the couch, or the floor, for that matter," she laughed.



"I guess I can live with no field work for a while," I consented.



"Good, because I was looking forward to even less rest in bed," 

she lowered her voice.



"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" I was practically 

breathless as I opened my car door.



"I'm saying you are free to do whatever your heart desires," she

grinned at me from the driver's side. "But you can't pick me up."



"Because the doctor said I was okay?" I clarified once we were

both in the car.



She nodded in response.



"You couldn't decide that for yourself?" I laughed.



"I wanted a second, unbiased opinion," a small smile was wavering

at the corners of her mouth.



"You thought you might decide I was fit before I really was?"

That thought was beginning to make my jeans feel tight.



"There is a reason doctor's don't see their own families, Mulder.

You will quite often see what you want to see in a loved one."



"So start the car, woman. I'm looking forward to far less rest in

bed."



The drive back to Scully's apartment was silent, save the giggles

from Scully every time she caught me waggling my eyebrows at her.

Once we were inside, clothes littered the path to the bed.



"All fours," I shook my head at Scully when she lay down on her

back.



She arched an eyebrow at me, but said nothing. I'd asked to use 

this position before, but she'd said my abdominal muscles weren't 

up to it yet. I watched intently as she got to her knees. When 

she looked back over her shoulder at me, my knees got weak. But

then my animal instinct took over. I think there is something 

about this position that brings out the Neanderthal in every

heterosexual male. I don't doubt it has something to do with 

submission, but at that point, I wasn't about to stop and 

analyze why seeing Scully like that made my cock painfully hard.



Since the only foreplay we'd engaged in had been verbal, the 

first thing I did when I climbed onto the bed was gently caress

her ass. Then with my cock pressing into her thigh, I bent to 

kiss and nip her shoulders while I reached with hand beneath her

to squeeze her breasts. In no time she was sighing and wiggling 

her ass against me.



Even though I wanted to fill her with one swift stoke, I didn't

want to hurt her, so I eased into her slowly. Once I was sure we

were both well lubricated, I picked up my pace. As my thrusts got

harder, Scully responded by groaning and pushing back against me

with equal fervor. 



"God, yes," she moaned when I grabbed her firmly by the hips.



It hadn't really occurred to me that Scully was as anxious for 

vigorous sex as I was, but her groaning and sighing was almost

as loud as mine. I wondered briefly if any of Scully's neighbors

were home in the afternoon. That thought vanished as soon as 

Scully's internal muscles began to tighten around me. I knew what

it felt like when she was about to come, and that was it. It 

seemed like we'd only gotten started, but we'd never had such

energetic sex before.



"Harder," she managed to gasp.



I could only grunt and do as she asked. After a few of her 

desired thrusts she began to shake. Her orgasm made her muscles

ripple in an entirely erotic fashion that I couldn't withstand.

As her climax was waning, mine began to surge through me, making

my last stokes even more powerful. 



When awareness began to filter into my consciousness again, I

found that Scully and I were lying spooned up on her bed. I 

assumed we'd collapsed like that. Remembering my final thrusts, 

I was initially worried that I might have hurt her, but from the

contented way she was sighing and pressing back against me, I 

quickly realized that she'd enjoyed every aspect of the exuberant 

sex as much as I had.



"Scully?"



"Hmm?"



"Will you promise me something?"



"What's that?"



"In our next incarnation, let's not wait until one of us is at

death's door to confess our love. Let's do it right away. We've

wasted far too much time in this life already."



end

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