Title: Entitlements 4: The Old Fashioned Way 



Author: Andrea



Rating: NC-17



Category: MSR, Scully POV



Disclaimer: I wish...then there would be no ninth season,

never mind a semi-Mulderless eighth.



Archiving: I'd be honoured, but I'd also like to know.



Notes: Thank you Aly for the great beta!



Summary: How do Mulder and Scully handle being out on the road

so soon after the start of their new relationship?



Spoilers: none



Feedback: Yes Please! ardywyn@hotmail.com



This story is the fourth installment in a series. Each story

can stand on it's own, but if you want to read the first three

stories in the series you can find them here under 'Entitlements

Series'.



http://members.rogers.com/faloona4/aloneindex.html



If you haven't read the other stories, all you need to know

is that Scully has a new piercing.

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



After our decadent weekend, Mulder and I were very relaxed when

we got to the office Monday morning. That all changed quickly

after we were summoned upstairs minutes after we arrived. I'm

not sure what I was expecting, but it definitely was not a

fidgety, nervous A.D. Skinner. From the look Mulder gave me as

we were sitting down, I could tell he too noticed that

something was up.



"I have a favor to ask."



"Whatever you need," Mulder responded immediately.



"It's my brother," he sighed.



"Is he in trouble?" I was instantly concerned.



"No, not trouble exactly, except with his wife, I guess," the

A.D. rolled his eyes.



"Oh?" He had my complete attention.



"It's all my fault," he shook his head. "I never should have

mentioned the X-Files last Christmas."



"Sir?" Mulder was as confused as I.



"Marie wouldn't have asked if she didn't know about the X-files."



"Asked what, sir?" I wanted him to stop beating around the bush.



"She wants you to investigate their new house," Skinner looked

at his hands. "She says it's haunted."



"I see," I tried not to laugh.



"A lot of people claim their houses are haunted, sir," Mulder

began, "if we investigated all of them..."



"That's why I said it was a favor," he reminded us.



"Is this off the record, sir?" I was surprised.



"No, not in least. I want this to be completely above board."



"Then why a favor, why not assign it a case number?" Mulder

probed.



"I have, but I didn't want it put on the back burner," Skinner

explained. "I promised my brother that we would look into it

right away."



"What's the rush? Is anyone being harmed by the haunting?"

Mulder pressed Skinner for details.



"Not so far, but my brother called in a favor,"  Skinner

grimaced.



"Oh, yeah?" Mulder grinned. "You owe him one?"



"I do and don't ask why. Let's just say it's important enough

that I'm pulling any strings I can to get this done."



"He must have you big time," Mulder chuckled.



"And after this we'll finally be even," Skinner slowly shook his

head. "Here are the particulars and your travel arrangements."

Skinner handed us a manila folder. "Oh, and if anyone else asks,

you found this case, okay, Mulder?"



"Whatever you say, sir," Mulder smiled unabashedly as he took

the papers. "It'll be worth it to have you finally owing me one."



"I should have said I'd call us even," Skinner muttered as we

left office.



I wasn't really looking forward to fieldwork this soon after

the change in our relationship, but this case promised to be

open and shut so hopefully we'd only be out of town overnight.



After separating to pack, Mulder drove back to my place to pick

me up. By 11 a.m. we were on a plane heading to Chicago. While

Mulder slept I reviewed the notes Skinner had given us. Donald

Skinner was five years older than his brother, Walter. He'd been

married to his second wife, Marie, for 10 years. There were no

children from either marriage.



The phenomena that Marie was reporting didn't seem to be con-

fined to nocturnal events like most hauntings, but occurred at

all times of the day and night. Neither Marie nor Donald had seen

apparitions, but both reported misplaced belongings, and

windows and doors mysteriously opening and/or closing. Marie

claimed to have heard strange noises and felt chills and a

definite 'presence' in certain rooms.



The indications of haunting were classic and that was my

biggest concern. Anyone with access to a library or the internet

could have come up with the same details. If this hadn't been

Skinner's family, even Mulder wouldn't have followed up on this

case.



Once we'd checked into our hotel, we decided to go straight to

the Skinner residence and get the case over with. If all went

well, we'd be finished in time to enjoy a late supper in a

Chicago hot-spot.



With Skinner's detailed directions in hand, I navigated while

Mulder drove. As we got closer to the house, Mulder and I grew

quiet, exchanging looks of awe. Skinner's brother lived in a

very affluent neighborhood. We both stared in amazement at the

size of the house as we turned in off the street.



"It looks like Skinner made the wrong career choice. He should

have followed in his big brother's footsteps," Mulder chuckled.



When we walked up to the house, I noticed a brass plaque laid

into the stone beside the front door. It read 'Milford Glen' and

beneath that was a date; 1878. Just as I rang the bell, Mulder

remembered that he'd left something in the car. While he was

rummaging in the trunk, the front door opened. Since the house

actually had a name and looked so large, I was expecting to

be met by a maid. The young woman who opened the door didn't look

like any maid I'd ever seen before, and she looked too young to

be Marie Skinner. The summery India-cotton dress she was wearing

was dotted with pink flowers and her hair was wound up into a

French roll. She said nothing to me; she simply gave me a nod of

her head and waved me into the foyer. By the time Mulder got back

the young woman had disappeared around a corner in search of

Marie Skinner, I presumed.



I was about to tell Mulder about the quiet young woman, when

someone who more met my expectations of Marie Skinner walked

into the foyer. She was a slight woman; maybe an inch taller than

me, but I probably outweighed her by 5 or 10 pounds. Her dark

hair was cut into a pageboy, and it looked like she had to battle

with it to keep any curl in it, even at the ends. Her eyes

were dark blue and her complexion fair. The scant amount of make-

up she wore was applied to appear as if she wore none. She was

dressed in a pale pink knitted silk sweater and navy slacks. She

wore very little jewelry, and even from a distance, I could tell

none of it was costume.



"You must be Agents Mulder and Scully," she greeted us

breathlessly. "I'm Marie Skinner; please call me Marie. I'm sorry

I didn't hear the door."



"Dana Scully," I nodded, and extended my hand. "A young woman let

us in."



"We must have missed each other," she gave an embarrassed laugh.

"It's very nice to meet you," she smiled. She shook my hand

firmly and then followed suit with Mulder when he introduced

himself.



"Let's sit down so we can talk." She waved us through a door

into a brightly lit room. The room had a feminine air. The rugs

and curtains were light in colour and the upholstery had a

floral pattern that  matched the border in the wallpaper. The

various tables in the room looked like Queen Anne with long,

delicate legs and tasteful trim. The paintings were all

pastoral scenes and vases of cut flowers were dotted around

the room.



Mulder and I sat in upholstered chairs opposite a settee. Mulder

looked extremely out of place. There was no room for his legs

and his body seemed too big for the chair; like an adult sitting

in a child's chair. The room had not been designed for men.



"How was your flight?" Marie asked politely when she sat down.



"Fine, thank you," I smiled; Mulder nodded in agreement.



"Would you like something to drink? Coffee or tea, or I can get you

something stronger, if you'd prefer," she offered.



"Coffee would be nice," Mulder's voice sounded strained. I could

tell he didn't feel free to be himself.



"And for you Agent Scully?"



"Coffee is fine, thank you," I smiled politely.



Mulder and I watched as Marie walked over to the door and began

to speak into an intercom.



"Rocio, would you please serve coffee in the Wisteria Room?"



In a few seconds I heard a faint voice reply and then Marie

joined us again.



"So, how is this done?" Her eyes were wide as she sat down.

"Do you have questions to ask me?"



"We've both read the file," Mulder began, "but it's fairly basic.

Can you give us more details?"



"Well," Marie leaned forward, her eyes sparkling, "it seems to

be centered around the Blue Bedroom. I felt it when we first

looked at this house. I don't think Don noticed, but when I felt

that chill I had to have this house."



"Did you feel anything besides the chill?" Mulder pressed her for

more detail.



"Not that day, but when we moved in, I wanted to use that

bedroom. I still hadn't told Donald, and he really didn't care

which bedroom we used. That first night was horrible. Neither

of us slept. We kept hearing someone crying and then the floor

would creak as if someone was walking back and forth."



"Did you tape the crying noises?" Mulder sounded hopeful.



"I thought about it, but then I thought it could be said that

it had been me making the sounds on the tape, so I didn't see

the point."



"True," I nodded. I was actually surprised that she'd been

thinking that rationally.



"Did you spend another night in that room?" Mulder continued.



"No, I would have liked to, but I had to get some sleep. Don

didn't sleep well either. He kept thinking that it was me crying

and asking me what was wrong. Then he'd think it was me walking

around and he'd tell me to get back into bed even though I was

right there beside him."



"So your husband believes the house is haunted, too?" I was

curious.



"It's funny," Marie chuckled, "even after that night, Don wasn't

convinced. He said we were both worked up and over tired after

the move. But he didn't object to changing bedrooms."



"So there haven't been any other incidents?"



"Oh, there have been plenty of other incidents," she assured us.

"Sometimes we can still hear the crying, even from the other side

of the house. If we're up late down here, we can hear the floors 

creaking overhead."



"The file mentioned objects being moved," Mulder prompted.



"Yes, if you leave things in the Blue Room, they will almost

always be in a different spot when you come back. But

occasionally," she paused for effect, "things will move around

in other parts of the house, as well."



"You couldn't have been mistaken about where you left them?" I

had to ask.



"It wasn't like misplaced keys, Agent Scully. One morning I came

downstairs and all of my vases were crowded onto one table. And

some of the flowers were missing. I never found them."



"Could someone have been playing a practical joke?"



"It would have to have been someone who lives here and I doubt

anyone here would find that kind of joke humorous. I've had a hard

time keeping staff here. A lot of people don't want to live in a

house that's haunted."



At that moment a young Hispanic woman came into the room carrying

a china coffee service on a silver tray. Her dark hair was pulled

back into a loose ponytail and she was wearing a muted grey dress

with a white collar and apron.



"Rocio," Marie smiled, "Tell these people about the lady."



After she placed the tray on the table in front of us, Rocio

turned toward Mulder and me. "She is a very lonely lady." The

young woman's dark eyes grew very solemn. "She cries at night."



"Are you lonely too, Rocio?" I asked.



"Me?" her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I don't have time to

be lonely. With my work here and helping my aunt with her babies,

I'm always busy. My aunt doesn't want me to work here," she added

in a somber tone. "She says this house is evil."



While she'd been talking, Rocio had been pouring out our coffee.

When she was finished, Marie gave her a quick nod, and she left

us alone again. Marie began to explain how she'd had to offer

higher wages than anyone else in the area to entice people to

work at Milford Glen. I wasn't listening very carefully; I was

being distracted by watching Mulder trying to cope with the tiny

china coffee cups.



"Oh, I'm sorry, Agent Mulder, are the handles too small?"



"I'm okay," Mulder smiled politely.



"Don't be silly," she waved him off. "Don hates this service. His

fingers don't fit either. I'll get Rocio to bring you a mug."



"I don't want to be an inconvenience," Mulder was looking

uncomfortable again.



"It's my fault," she shook her head. "I should have realized that

your hands would be too big. You aren't as big as Don and Walt,

but you're no shrimp, either," she chuckled.



As she was walking back to the intercom, Mulder and I exchanged a

quick glance, but we both had to look away so we wouldn't burst

out laughing. Walt! Mulder would never let Skinner live that down.

Almost immediately, Rocio hurried into the room with a mug and

then filled it for Mulder. While we drank coffee and munched

on the cookies and tea cakes that Marie offered, we

questioned her some more. She knew nothing about the history of

the house or the grounds. Donald Skinner was a partner in a large

law firm and the purchase of the house had been handled by one of

the other lawyers in the firm. Until the Skinners bought the

property, Milford Glen had been in the same family since it was

built.



"May we see the Blue Room?" Mulder asked when he set down his

mug.



"Of course," Marie stood up and smoothed her slacks. "It's in

the east wing."



We followed Marie up a sweeping staircase and down a long

hallway. At the east end of the hall stood a large walnut door.

When Marie opened it, I was immediately taken aback; the room

was far larger than I'd anticipated. This one bedroom was almost

as large as my entire apartment. A large window in the east wall

looked out on the gardens at the back of the house. The north

wall featured a fireplace and the bed was situated against the

south wall. There were several small tables, a chaise lounge,

two dressers, an armoire, a vanity and plenty of open space.

Despite the fact that I'd found the rest of the house to be a

reasonable temperature, after being in this room for a couple of

minutes, I began to grow cool. Mulder noticed me rubbing my arms

briskly and raised his eyebrows.



"Well, Marie," Mulder broke the silence, "the next thing I'd like

to do is some research. I'd like to find out more about this

house. Are you available tomorrow morning, around 9:30, so we

can discuss what Agent Scully and I have found?"



"I'm available, but won't you stay to supper? You haven't met Don

yet," Marie protested.



"We still have a lot of work to do yet today, Marie," Mulder

explained. "And I have to report back to Assistant Director

Skinner with our progress. If he finds out that we've been

slacking off..."



"Oh, Walt's all bark and no bite," she seemed amused. "From what

I hear he developed that to get out from behind Don's shadow.

That's why he joined the Marines. Walt says he thought it was the

right thing to do, but Don thinks he was trying to shake up the

family. The Skinners have been lawyers in Chicago for a long

time now," Marie leaned closer to us as if she was sharing a

confidence, "No one really likes to talk about it, but most of

the family money came from the days of Prohibition; rum runners

paid handsomely for their defense."



"I think a lot of people with old money would rather that people

not know where it came from," Mulder chuckled as he stood up.



"So I can't convince you stay?" Marie seemed disappointed.



"Now that we have more information, Marie, I'm anxious to do

some research," Mulder's knack for diplomacy never ceased to

amaze me.



"Of course," she seemed appeased, "but you will be back

tomorrow?"



"We will," I assured her.



"There is one thing I would like to do before we go," Mulder

added.



Marie and I both looked at him expectantly; I had no idea what

he was talking about.



"I brought a special video camera with me. If you wouldn't

mind, I'd like to set it up before we go."



After Marie readily agreed, I helped Mulder set the equipment up.

As we were unraveling cords he explained that before he went home

to pack, he'd paid a quick visit to Chuck Burks in the paranormal

lab on the off chance that it was a genuine haunting. Chuck had

given him a video camera that he'd modified. Apparently, it was

sensitive to spectral phenomena.



Once we had everything set up, we said our good-byes and told

Marie we'd see her in the morning. Again, with map in hand, I

directed Mulder to the Harold Washington Library Center on State

Street. We found it easily enough, it was parking in the South

Loop area that turned out to be a problem.



By the time we found a parking spot it was 6 o'clock, only giving

us an hour in the library. When we mentioned that we were doing

research on Milford Glen, the librarian at the reference desk

helped us collect a pile of books. One was specifically about the

history of the house and others were about the history of Chicago

and the city's Who's Who.



"There is a very sad story associated with that house," she

kept her voice low. "It happened at the end of Word War One;

during the height of the flu epidemic."



With the aid of a few of the books she began to recount the

story. Standing behind us, she wove the tale of the Pritchard

family, adding in details I'm sure the book didn't mention.

Holding the book up so we could all see, I turned the pages to

reveal pictures of the people and places she was describing.



"That's Adelaide Pritchard," she pointed to a picture of a young

girl when we were about halfway through the book. "That was taken

about 1910, I think. She was involved in that story I mentioned."



"Oh, yeah?" Mulder looked up at her with interest.



As she began to go in more detail, I flipped the page. The

photograph I saw there made me gasp and I let the book fall to

the table.



"What?" Mulder looked at me in surprise.



"That's the woman who opened the door at Milford Glen this

afternoon," my heart was racing.



"You must be mistaken," the librarian responded quickly. "She's

been dead for more than eighty years." Then with barely a pause,

she picked up her story from where I'd interrupted her.



As she continued to speak, Mulder looked at me and nodded slowly.

We'd found our lonely lady.



"Is there any more specific information on Adelaide Pritchard?"

Mulder asked when she was through.



"Not that I know of, but I'm sure we'd have a copy of her obit

on microfilm," she suggested.



With only a mention of microfilm, Mulder started to turn a little

green around the gills.



"I'll look," I smiled and patted his arm. "I still don't have

any Dramamine."



"Those readers make a lot of people nauseous," the librarian

chuckled as she ushered me into the reading room. "They just give

me a headache."



Since I already knew when she died, it took me no time at all to

find her obituary and print a copy. When I got back it was closing

time, so I helped Mulder gather up his notes and after thanking

the librarian profusely, we headed back out to State Street.



"Have you ever noticed," Mulder grinned as we walked to the car,

"I never seem to see the apparitions and you never seem to see

the spaceships?"



"Maybe the woman I saw was a relative of the Pritchard's?" I'm

not sure why I said it, because I didn't believe it myself.



"Scully," Mulder sighed, "Think back to what happened. Marie

Skinner thought the maid had let us in. Ask her tomorrow."



I didn't say anything. There wasn't anything to say. I knew in

my heart he was right.



"You still look a little pale; we should get something to eat,"

he went to open my car door.



"Why don't we walk? I could use the fresh air," I suggested.



Once he'd locked the car, Mulder took my hand and we began to

stroll west along State Street. There were plenty of restaurants

to choose from, but nothing really jumped out at me. We'd been

walking for quite a while, taking in the scenery, when I noticed

an Indian restaurant. Mulder didn't seem to care one way or the

other. Since we were on a case, I knew the only heat I'd be

getting would be from my food and my bath. So I thought Indian

food seemed like a good choice.



Two hours and too many samosas later, Mulder and I walked back to

the car. It was almost 11 by the time we reached the hotel.

In the underground garage we stole a good-night kiss and then

went to our rooms -- on different floors. We'd decided it was

best not to tempt fate or ourselves.





The following morning Mulder showed up at my door bearing

coffee and croissants. We'd been an item less than two weeks,

and he already knew the way to my heart. He'd had the key to

it almost long as I could remember. During breakfast we talked

about the case.



"It took me a while to get to sleep last night, so I decided

to see if there was any information about Adelaide Pritchard's

fiance and I found more than I expected online. The Pritchards

were an influential family in Chicago and almost every move they

made was documented," Mulder handed me the case file which had

grown in girth.



"I couldn't sleep either," I confessed as I opened the file.



"Yeah?" Mulder grinned slyly and took a drink of his coffee.



"I had to play with my ring and imagine it was your hand making

me feel that way," I looked at him over the file.



I picked the wrong time to tease Mulder. He started to choke and

his coffee came out of his nose, making him cough and sputter even

more.



"Should I have waited until you were done with your coffee?" I

handed him a couple of napkins.



"No, you should have waited until I'm allowed to touch you

again," he was trying unsuccessfully to salvage his shirt. "How

am I supposed to get any work done with that image in my mind all

day?"



"Like it wasn't there already," I snorted.



"Still," he looked like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.



"Sorry, Mulder, I didn't mean for you to spit out your coffee."



"I think I burned the inside of my nose," he pouted.



"Will it make you feel better if I kiss your nose?" I tried

not to smile.



"Yes," he was still pouting.



When I bent down to give his nose a little buss, Mulder grabbed

me and pulled me onto his lap. Before I could protest, his mouth

was covering mine; his tongue thrusting into my mouth. Part of me

knew this was wrong, but the part of me that could feel his

erection was loving every minute of it. I couldn't stop myself

from wiggling against him. Mulder grunted and pulled out of the

kiss.



"See?" his voice was rough. "See what you do to me?"



I nodded, staring at him in shock. "I'm sorry," I muttered.



"I'm sorry I grabbed you," he helped me to my feet. "Can we

not do this? It's too soon for me. I want you all the time,

Scully. Maybe in a while I won't lust after you so much, but I

doubt it. If staying partnered is going to work, we have to draw

distinct lines."



"I know, Mulder. I'm really sorry. I wasn't thinking," I

apologized again, not meeting his eyes.



"I thought about you last night too, you know," Mulder reached

for my hand and pulled me close again.



"Yeah?" I finally looked at him.



"You know..." a grin slowly spread across his face, "I don't

think the Bureau has any regulations about the use of hotel room

phones."



"What do you mean?" I wasn't following him.



"How about a date tonight? Two phones, no waiting," he waggled

his eyebrows.



"Do you think we'll still be here tonight?" my shoulders sagged.



"Probably," he looked apologetic. "But we should be done

tomorrow." He sounded more hopeful than sure. "I'll go and change

my shirt and then we should get going, okay?"



Once we were in the car on our way back to Milford House, I

brought up something that had been bothering me.



"We found all of that information really easily. All Marie

Skinner would've had to do is log onto the internet or visit

the library and she would have found out about Adelaide and

her fiance."



"That's true," Mulder pondered what I'd said for a minute. "I'll

ask her."



This time when we arrived at Milford Glen, Rocio answered the

door. I was a little disappointed that it wasn't the same woman

as the day before. I wanted to get a closer look, but such

opportunities aren't often afforded twice. We were once again

seated in the Wisteria room. After ordering coffee for us, Marie

sat down across from us with an expectant look on her face.



"I was wondering if you could clear up a couple of things before

we get started," Mulder began.



"I'll answer whatever questions I'm able," Marie nodded, her eyes

wide.



"I'll need to know who was in the house yesterday before I look

at that tape. I don't want to mistake any real people for

spirits," he smiled.



"After Don left for work in the morning it was just Rocio and me

until Don got home from work," Marie thought back.



"There were no other servants and you have no guests staying

with you?" Mulder clarified.



"No, no guests" she shook her head, "And Liza and Phyllis had

the day off. Liza is the cook and Phyllis is the upstairs

maid. I only have the three servants," Marie informed us as if

it wasn't many. "Well, there is the gardener, but he never comes

into the house."



"I see," Mulder nodded, giving me a sideways glance.



"Was there anything else?" Marie prompted.



"Well, when Agent Scully and I went to the library, we had no

problem finding out who your 'lonely lady' is. We were just

wondering why you hadn't done any research on your own."



"Don said he knew the history of the house. There had only been

the one family living here and he said there wasn't anything

mysterious about them. No murders or suspicious behavior, nothing

he knew of that would lead to a haunting," Marie tried to

explain.



"I thought Don didn't believe the house was haunted, or did I

get the wrong impression?" I was confused.



"Depends who's in the room," Marie rolled her eyes. "When he

hears that pacing, or we find his briefcase in the broom closet,

he believes. When one of his country club friends is here, he

scoffs at the idea. I think he contacted Walt just to shut me

up."



"Have you heard of Adelaide Pritchard?" I decided it was time

to tell her the story.



"They were all Pritchards," Marie shook her head. "That name

doesn't ring a bell."



"She died in this house in 1918; the influenza epidemic. She was

20 years old," I continued.



"That's awful, do you think she's the ghost?" Marie sat forward

in her seat.



I was about to continue when Rocio came in with the coffee. When

she'd set the tray down, Marie patted the settee beside her and

asked Rocio to sit. It seemed odd to me that Marie would invite

her maid to sit. Since they seemed to share an interest in what

was happening in the house, I decided that's why they must have

a fairly unique relationship.



"They think they know who it is," Marie couldn't hide her

excitement.



Rocio sat down, folded her hands in her lap and waited patiently

for us to continue. Although she was trying to appear calm, from

the way her brown eyes were shining, I could tell that she was

excited and intrigued as well.



"Why do you think that would make her haunt this house?" Marie

asked curiously.



"It wasn't her death of influenza," Mulder took over. "Several

members of the household succumbed to the epidemic. When Adelaide

died, she was waiting to hear about the fate of her fiance,

Zachary Aggett. He was with Pershing at St. Mihiel in France.

Before she heard about the outcome of the battle she was stricken.

The first waves of returning soldiers had brought influenza

with them and spread it from coast to coast. Adelaide died before

the telegram arrived."



"He died?" Rocio put her hand to her mouth.



"He did," I nodded.



"She never knew what happened to him," Marie eyes grew wide.



"So she's still waiting for him," Rocio's expression sobered.



"That would be my best guess," Mulder nodded.



"Would you be willing to put that in writing?" Marie asked

making the rest of us stare at her.



"Not until I have more solid proof," Mulder was taken aback.

"Why?"



"I met Don in Detroit," she began with a sigh. "When I moved

here three years ago, I was treated like a pariah by everyone he

knew. He'd been divorced from Janine for five years, and they

still treated me like the other woman. Don thinks I'm imagining

it, just like the ghost." Marie had sagged against the back of

the settee. "It's gotten a little better. I'm at least invited

to some events on my own now, but only after hosting innumerable

fundraisers and donating a large portion of my inheritance

to every charity I could; anonymously of course," she rolled her

eyes.



"How would an anonymous donation help?" Mulder looked puzzled.



"Everyone knows who makes the donations, Agent Mulder," Marie

dropped her voice. "But it's uncouth to take credit."



"I still fail to see how a ghost is going to help you fit in,"

I wondered aloud.



"These women all love that kind of thing," Marie chuckled. "It's

not Geoffrey Chaucer and Emily Bronte in their night tables, it's

Stephen King and Anne Rice."



"And that's why you bought this house?" Mulder was astounded.



"It was," she nodded. "I wanted to be sure before I called Walt

though."



"And he knew we were being called in to authenticate this

haunting?" I was trying not to laugh. "No wonder he was being

cagey."



"When I found out that he was the head of a department that

investigated this kind of thing, I knew it was my way in," she

smiled broadly.



"Why do you care?" I was astonished. "Why do you want to be part

of a group of women that would make you go to these lengths to

be accepted?"



"For Donald," her response was immediate. "It's my job. This is

what I was raised to do."



Mulder and I sat quietly. I assumed he was trying to process

this new information just as I was.



"It's already working, you know," Marie continued. "All it took

was a few words in the right ears, didn't it Rocio?"



"Yes, I told my aunt that you'd been here when I got home last

night," Rocio confirmed.



"The phone was ringing off the hook last night," Marie laughed.

"They are asking if they can spend a night in the Blue Bedroom.

Can you believe it?"



"I was under the impression that you wanted our assistance to

free this ghost. Are you saying you want to prolong this tragedy

as a means to improve your social standing?" I could hear anger

in Mulder's voice. From the look on Marie's face, I assumed she

heard it too.



"I, umm..." Marie stuttered, looking at me and then back at

Mulder again.



Being a navy brat, I had some sympathy for what Marie Skinner

was going through. I'd been the child that had bribed other

kids with cookies and milk to get them to come to my house. I'd

also been on the other side of the fence, seeing the new kid

struggling to be accepted. The relationship between Marie and

Rocio became clear to me. Rocio was the only friend Marie had in

Chicago.



"How about a compromise?" I suggested. "If the tape upstairs

authenticates your ghost, Mulder and I could, well..." Mulder

was staring at me, waiting to hear what I was going to say. "We

could give a talk for your friends; explain the history, show the

tape. Authenticate it for you that way."



"It would be such a romantic story to say that the lovers were

finally together again," Rocio sighed. "But how will you free

her?"



"We'll just tell her that Zachary is waiting for her," Mulder

shrugged.



"What, just walk into the room and say 'Hey, Addie, Zach's

dead!'?" I asked in disbelief.



"Well, I was thinking of writing her a letter actually, Scully,"

Mulder raised his eyebrows at me. "Marie mentioned that things in

the Blue Bedroom get moved around, so I have no doubt that she'd

look at it."



While we'd been talking about this, Marie had remained quiet. I

wasn't sure if she was happy with our plans.



"Is this okay with you, Marie?" I finally asked.



"I feel horrible," she shook her head. "You were right, Agent

Mulder. I would have been perfectly content to keep that poor

soul trapped upstairs just to make my life easier. I'll

understand completely if you decide to walk away right now."



"I know how it is to get so caught up in something that you are

blind to other possibilities," Mulder assured her.



"So you'd still be willing to help me?" Marie's eyes brightened.



"Well, it sounds like Agent Scully has a plan. I'll just do

whatever she tells me to do," Mulder grinned. "Like I always do."



Mulder's comment made Marie smile and Rocio titter. I gave him

a smack on the arm with the back of my hand, but only made Rocio

giggle more.



"Could we set something up for tomorrow afternoon?" I changed the

subject.



"That doesn't give us much time," Marie looked at Rocio. "But

for something like this, I'm sure lunch plans could be changed.

You and Liza plan the menu, Rocio. I'll start a guest list and

invite people by phone," she cringed. "I'm sure considering the

circumstances they'll understand." Both women started to get up

from the sofa.



"Hang on!" Mulder stopped them. "Let me look at the tape first."



It took no time for Mulder to find evidence of an apparition on

the tape, setting Rocio and Marie in motion. Marie tried to get

us to come back for supper, but Mulder convinced her that we'd be

far too busy getting the presentation ready. Before we left,

Mulder sat down and wrote a letter addressed to Adelaide. It took

him several attempts to write it diplomatically. When he was

satisfied he left it on the vanity. Then he decided to leave

the camera set up focused in the general direction of the letter.

He thought it might make for more interesting presentation

material.



"It would have been nice to have had the original telegram,"

Mulder sighed when we were on our way.



"Do you think your letter will work?"



"I have no idea, Scully. This isn't my field of expertise. I'll

get Chuck to come out here and double check, but I have to

try," he shrugged.



"You're such a romantic, Mulder," I laughed.



When we got back to the hotel, we decided to work in my room, but

Mulder said he had to get something from his room first. While I

was waiting for him, I kicked off my shoes, lay on the bed,

closed my eyes and tried to figure out what I was going to say in

my 'presentation'. The ringing of my phone startled me.



"Hello?" I had no idea who might be calling me.



"Hey, Scully." I recognized the richness of Mulder's voice

immediately.



"Did you change your mind? Do you want me to come up there?"



"Nope."



"Okay..."



"I'd like to hear more about what you did last night," his

voice was sending chills through me. He'd only spoken a few words

to me and already my breathing was shallow and my heart was

racing. "But first I want you to get undressed."



"Okay," I breathed and reached to undo my skirt.



"Slow down," he chuckled, "I want you to tell me what your

doing."



"I'm reaching around to lower the zipper on my skirt," my voice

was breathy.



"Mmm."



"I'm lowering it." I was amazed at how quickly I'd reacted to this

scenario. The idea of phone sex had never really appealed to me

before, but Mulder had quickly changed my mind. Knowing that

he couldn't even wait until that night only added to the

tingling I was already feeling. "I'm pushing my skirt down."



"Kick it off," he instructed.



"Done," I told him as soon as I'd flicked it off the bed.



"Are you wearing pantyhose?"



"Yes."



"Have I mentioned that I hate pantyhose?"



"Umm, I don't think so," I chuckled.



"Get rid of them as fast as you can."



Cradling the phone between my ear and my shoulder, I wiggled

around to free myself of the hose.



"Gone," I panted when they were off.



"Good," his voice had darkened again. "What kind of panties are

you wearing?"



"A thong," I confessed, smiling to myself.



"I wish I could see your ass," he groaned.



"I wish you could too," And I longed to feel his hands touching

me. "Do you want me to take the thong off now?"



"No, just push it aside," his breathing was getting raspy.



"I thought you wanted me to be naked?"



"I changed my mind."



"Oh," I breathed as I pulled the thin strip of material to one

side.



"Now slip one finger inside of yourself."



"Okay," I did as he asked.



"Are you wet?"



"Yes," I almost whispered.



"And hot?"



"Mmm hmm."



"Oh God," he groaned into the phone. I recognized the timbre of

his voice; he wasn't far from climaxing. "Now use that finger on

your ring."



When I did as he said, I gasped. I wasn't so far from coming

myself.



"Feel good?" he rumbled.



"Incredible," I sighed.



"Better than last night?"



"God, yes!" I was moving my finger faster.



"Tell me," his voice was forced, as if he needed all of his powers

of concentration in order to speak. The thought of him stroking

himself while he was talking to me sent a jolt to my already

throbbing bundle of nerves and I couldn't help moaning.



"As I make a circle around my clit, I move my ring too," my eyes

had slipped shut. "Then I pull it back and I can feel it move

under my hood; almost directly on top my nerves." The sensation

makes me draw in a sharp breath.



"Scully," Mulder whispered hoarsely. "Are you close?"



"Yes," I panted as I began to rub myself more vigorously, simply

using my piercing for increased friction.



"Unh," he grunted and I could hear him shuddering.



That sound made my clit begin to pulse under my fingers. My back

arched and I quaked with each wave that surged through me. When I

stopped throbbing, I lay limply on the bed, my eyes still closed,

feeling like I might slip into a deep sleep any second.



"Mmm, Scully," the sound of Mulder's deep voice in my ear added

to the feeling of contentment enveloping me. If his arms had been

surrounding me, I would have been in heaven. "Tomorrow night

we're going home. If we aren't finished with this case, I'll

cover the airfare myself."





When we finally ended our fantasy embrace, I realized I was

still on the bed with no skirt on and my panties pulled to one

side. I must have been quite a sight. After finding my skirt and

pantyhose, I redressed and went to the bathroom to tidy up. I was

struggling with a wayward strand of hair when I heard a knock at my

door.



"So is this going to be a multi-media presentation, Scully?"

Mulder grinned as he strode in the room and flopped onto the bed.



"I might be able to make overheads from some of the photographs

in those books at the library," I speculated. "But we have no way

of showing them."



"I'm sure I could borrow a projector and a screen from the

field office," Mulder pointed out. "You know I have a special

rapport with the local guys."



I couldn't stop myself from snorting at his comment. "Yeah, I

guess constantly pissing them off would count as special."



"When you're given a talent you should use it," he shrugged, "But

before we do anything else, we should get something to eat. For

some reason I'm starving," he winked at me.



"Do you want to get something here?" I was flushing slightly

from his reminder.



"Well," he paused. "I know we did a lot of walking last night,

but how would you feel about taking a stroll down to the Navy

Pier? It's the middle of the week, so it shouldn't be too

crowded."



"Okay, but we have to eat here tonight. If I'm going to be

dazzling Chicago's high society I can't just throw this together

at the last minute."



"Deal," Mulder held out his hand to shake mine. Without letting

go, he hoisted himself off the bed and almost pulled me off my

feet. "It looks like you need to work on your upper body

strength, partner," he chuckled and slapped me on the ass.



"I'll get right on that," I rolled my eyes.



After spending a couple of hours at the pier, eating mostly junk

food, we walked back to the hotel to get the car. I dropped

Mulder off at the Chicago field office on Dearborn Street and

drove back to an Office Depot I'd spotted to pick up some

transparencies. I also found some paper that looked like old

parchment to make up some handouts. Then I started off toward the

library, looking for a parking place once I was within a couple

of blocks of it.



I was happy to find the same librarian on duty because she knew

immediately which books I wanted. When I told her what I wanted

to do, she said looked hesitant.



"We don't usually let people photocopy the older books."



"I only need a few of the photographs. I'll be very careful."



"I don't know..."



"It's official F.B.I. business," I pulled out my badge.



"Oh," her eyes widened. "If you show me what you want, I'll make

the copies for you."



"Thank you so much," I breathed.



By the time I got back to the hotel it was after 5 o'clock. When

I opened the door to my room I wasn't at all surprised to find

him sprawled out on my bed, remote in hand.



"I see you managed to get a ride back," I deposited my packages.



"Yeah, the receptionist must have crush on me. I caught her

checking out my ass," he grinned.



"I'll bet," I chuckled.



"Aww, you're supposed to be jealous," he pouted.



"I'll be jealous next time, okay?" I began to get myself

organized on my little table.



"Did you find everything you needed?" Mulder was suddenly

right behind me.



"I think so," I tried to ignore the fact that I could feel the

heat of his body.



"Lemme see," he leaned even closer, so close I could feel his

breath on my neck.



"Umm..." I was having a hard concentrating. "I got this paper

for handouts," I pulled out the package of parchment-style paper.



"That's cool. I'll bet I can find a font that looks like old

script or something," he reached around me to touch it, bringing

his body into full contact with mine. I got light-headed when I

felt his erection pushing against me.



"Thinking about the receptionist?" I pressed back against him.



"Do you want me to be honest?"



I froze at his question. I did want him to be honest, but I

wasn't sure if I wanted to hear what he had to say. "Of course,"

I shrugged, trying to appear unconcerned.



"She did make a pass at me. She asked me if she could come up

to my room," his voice was low and raspy.



I didn't say anything, I couldn't, my heart was in my throat.

Mulder put his other hand on the table; completely surrounding

me. I tried to disguise the fact that my knees were shaking.



"But she didn't hold a candle to you, Scully," his lips

brushed against my neck. "This is in honor of you," he pressed

his cock more firmly into my ass.



"Mulder," I spun around to meet his darkened eyes, "if you wanted

to make me jealous, you succeeded. Are you happy?"



"No," his breathing was shallow, "I'm not. You're driving me

crazy; I want you so badly."



"You lasted years without me, Mulder, what's a couple of days?"

His arms were around me, our bodies touching.



"Yeah, but I hadn't actually had you then," his mouth was

suddenly covering mine, his thrusting tongue was unopposed as I

went limp in his arms. But when I felt his hands working on the

zipper of my skirt, I forced myself to pull away.



"Stop."



My voice was barely audible, but Mulder stopped. When I opened

my eyes, he face was only inches from mine. His eyes were closed

and his breathing was labored.



"I thought we weren't going to do this, Mulder," I was still

breathless as well.



"I'm sorry, Scully," he opened his eyes. When I saw the sorrow in

the depths of his hazel eyes, I knew he was truly sorry. "I'm

sorry I tried to make you jealous. My lust must have gotten the

better of me."



"So she didn't make a pass at you?"



"She did, but I didn't need to tell you," he shook his head.

"I think if I'm going to last until tomorrow night and stay

sane, I should go for a run to get rid of some of this energy."



"Good idea," I gave him a small smile. "I'll be able to get more

work done on this if you aren't distracting me anyway."



"This may seem strange, Scully, but I like knowing that I

distract you and that you get jealous," he kissed my forehead

lightly.



"I think it's called love, Mulder," I laughed.



"Is that why I can't stop thinking about you, and why I want to

kill every man who gives you the once over?"



"I think so," I grinned. He was right. Hearing him say that gave

me a very warm feeling.



"Okay, I'm going for that run now," his arms were still around

me.



"Must be an X-File," I laughed again, "because it feels like

you're still holding me."



"Okay," he finally let go. "I'm going."



By the time Mulder got back two hours later, freshly showered and

smelling wonderful, I almost had everything set. The only thing I

had left to do was visit the hotel's business center to do some

printing and make some more transparencies. I'd managed to pick

out a font all on my own.



Mulder was anxious to eat, but I wanted to get all of my work

done first. It only took me another half-hour to get it all

finished, with Mulder at the photocopier. I think he thought

it would be in his stomach's best interest. While I put

everything back in my room, Mulder went to get us a table at

the hotel's restaurant. We'd decided it would be better to eat

in a public place.



We lingered in the restaurant for a couple of hours; neither of

us were ready to go to sleep and we didn't want to risk being

alone together. Instead, we were alone in the company of several

waiters. Most of the diners had finished shortly after we were

seated.



Mulder shared stories I'd never heard before and he had me

laughing like a schoolgirl most of the evening. Afterwards,

Mulder walked me back to my room and gave me a quick peck on

the cheek before saying goodnight. When I closed the door I

felt very content. It was almost as if Mulder and I had been

on a date. I'd never had a better date in my life. I normally

found them to be stressful, unnatural affairs. With Mulder I

was comfortable and had no problem being myself.



We arrived at Milford Glen around 11 o'clock the next morning.

Marie was very excited about the gathering. Everyone she'd

invited had accepted. Since there wasn't much time to prepare,

she was dashing around the house trying to help the servants get

ready, but it looked more like she was getting in the way. The

festivities were set for 2 o'clock.



The Wisteria room had been transformed. It was full of

upholstered chairs and small tables; with two chairs per table.

It looked like there was enough seating for 30 people. I wondered

if I'd ever belong to the class of people that would have this

kind furniture lying around so that I could throw together an

event like this at a moment's notice. I doubted it, and after

hearing Marie's story about her exclusion I wasn't sure I'd want

to be part of a group like this anyway. All of the other

furnishings had been removed. I was curious how all of this had

been accomplished overnight, but I was afraid I'd throw Marie

into a tizzy if I stopped her to ask.



While I put two booklets out at every table, Mulder set up the

projector and the screen. When he was done he set off in search

of a TV to show the video of the apparition. Considering the

complete chaos the house had been in when we arrived, I was

amazed that everything had fallen into place by the time the

first guests started to arrive.



The arrival of the first guest also resulted in a complete change

in Marie. Her posture stiffened, her face grew less animated, her

smile forced. When she swept over to speak to me, I noticed

immediately that her voice had changed. It was softer and more

controlled.



"Before you get started, Rocio and Liza are going to serve tea.

While they're doing that, I'll introduce you and Agent Mulder."



"Okay," I smiled.



For a few minutes the room was a swarming with activity.

Apparently, in this circle, it was not fashionable to be late.

Once everyone had taken a seat, Marie glided up to the front of

the room.



"Welcome ladies. I must apologize for the haste with which this

tea was organized. Unfortunately, it was necessary if we were to

take advantage of the opportunity of having our special guest

speakers."



There was a quiet rustle in the room as everyone looked at

Mulder and me.



"Today we are lucky enough to have Special Agent Fox Mulder

and Special Agent Dana Scully speaking to us. Agent Mulder has

been with the Federal Bureau of Investigation since 1986.

Before that he attended university at Oxford."



That piece of information created a murmur amongst the women. I

was amazed at the amount of information that Marie Skinner had.

It appeared that she'd been talking to her brother-in-law.



"In 1991 he began investigating cases known as the X-Files. These

cases involved unexplained phenomena."



That created another stir in the crowd.



"In March of 1992, Agent Dana Scully was assigned to work with

Agent Mulder. Agent Scully is a medical doctor specializing in

forensic medicine. According to some sources within the Bureau,

she was assigned to prove that the X-Files were not legitimate

cases. As it turned out, her involvement has only added

credibility to Agent Mulder's work."



I turned to look at Mulder. I'm sure the astonished expression

in his eyes was mirrored in my own. Skinner had never said

anything like this to us.



"Are you ready to begin, Agent Scully?" Marie turned to me and

smiled.



"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Skinner," I nodded and waited while she

took a seat near the middle of the room.



I began by telling everyone how A.D. Skinner had asked us to

investigate this case, but I left out the part about it being a

favor for Donald Skinner. Then I went on to describe the first

meeting we'd had with Marie Skinner and our trip to the library.

That was Mulder's cue to turn off the lights.



"At the library, Agent Mulder and I found a wealth of information

on Milford Glen and its previous residents. One of the

photographs we discovered was this one," I put the first overhead

on the projector. "This is Adelaide Pritchard at 10 years old."



>From there I put up overheads detailing her life and her

engagement to Zachary Aggett. Then I described the onset of World

War One and how Zachary had felt compelled to join the forces in

France to serve his country. I talked about Pershing's plan to

push the Germans back from their fortified position that

threatened Paris. I told my attentive audience that close to 4000

American men had lost their lives in that offensive and that

Zachary Aggett was one of them.



Then I went on to tell them about the influenza pandemic and

how the soldiers returning from the war had brought it back with

them. At this point I put up the picture of Adelaide Pritchard as

a young woman and explained how she had lost her life to the

disease.



"There is something else about this case that even Mrs. Skinner

doesn't know," Mulder took over. "When Agent Scully and I arrived

at Milford Glen on Monday afternoon, the ghost of Adelaide

Pritchard greeted Agent Scully at the door."



Mulder fell silent while the women gasped and stared and Marie

and I. Even in the darkened room, I could tell that Marie was

shocked.



"Of course, we didn't know that until we saw this picture,"

Mulder continued.



Mulder then began to describe how he'd set up a specialized

camera in the Blue Bedroom. When he played it back the tape, the

sight of the apparition created another ripple in the room.

At this point Mulder shared our theory that Adelaide was trapped

in this house because she was still waiting for Zachary to

return. I was sure I heard some distinct sniffles from our

audience.



"When Agent Scully and I explained this to Mrs. Skinner, she

insisted immediately that we had to do something to reunite this

couple," Mulder rewrote the truth.



After describing the letter he'd written to Adelaide he put a

new tape in the VCR. It showed the letter floating in midair for

a moment and then slowly fluttering to the floor, causing

whispers to fill the previously quiet room.



"I'm not sure if this means we were successful," Mulder

cautioned.



While Mulder was explaining how we would have to wait to see if

Adelaide made a reappearance, a man slipped into the back of the

darkened room. It was A.D. Skinner. I had no idea what he was

doing here. Surely he would have let us know if he going to come

to Chicago. It was time for me to turn on the lights. As I made

my way to the switch amidst the clapping of hands, I saw Mulder

staring at Skinner, too.



As soon as I flicked the lights on, I began to chuckle. The man

at the back of the room was not our esteemed assistant director

but, I presumed, his older brother, Donald. It was uncanny how much

they looked alike; same build, same hairline. Upon closer

inspection I could see that while there was a family resemblance,

the two men's faces were quite different. Donald had a more Roman

nose, and their eyes weren't the same, but they did share the

same chin.



Mulder and I both made our way to the back of the room to greet

Donald Skinner. All of the women were on their feet, talking

in small groups and flipping through the booklets I'd given them.

Marie Skinner was surrounded by one of the largest groups,

smiling broadly.



"You startled me when you walked in," Mulder was already talking

to him by the time I got there. "For a minute I thought you were

our boss."



"Well, I've been in touch with my brother," Donald's face

suddenly became grim. "I had to let him know that I'm not happy

about how you've been leading Marie down the garden path."



As my stomach was falling, I saw all of the color drain out of

Mulder's face. All of this work we'd done, and Skinner was going

to end up chewing us out again.



"Just kidding," Donald slapped Mulder on the shoulder. "I told

Walt that Marie was thrilled with what you've done. I'm not sure

if I believe all of this or not, but as long as Marie's happy,

I'm happy."



"You've got quite the poker face there, Mr. Skinner," Mulder

forced a smile.



"I need it in my line of work. In high level negotiations it

doesn't pay to have anyone being able to know what you're

thinking," he smiled.



After chatting with Donald Skinner for a few more minutes, Mulder

told him we had to be on our way. He thanked us again for our

help, and escorted us to the door. When Marie saw us moving

toward the foyer, she began to hurry toward us.



"I wanted to thank you for what you did," she was breathless

when she got to us.



"It was no problem at all, Marie," I assured her. "I hope

everything works out for you."



"I think everything is going to be wonderful," she gushed. "And

I was wondering if I could keep those overheads?"



"Of course," I smiled. "I left it all by the projector."



"Can't you stay to dinner?" Marie looked hopeful as I was

reaching for the door handle.



"Umm..." I hesitated and glanced at Mulder.



"Leave them be, Marie," Donald Skinner chuckled. "I think you've

taken up enough of their time."



"I'm just trying to be sociable, Don," she defended herself.



"Are you planning to fly back to D.C. tonight?" Donald paid no

attention to her.



"Well, we were planning to enjoy more of what Chicago has to

offer," Mulder skated around the truth.



"Where are you staying?" Donald Skinner became businesslike all

of a sudden. "I'll call and book better rooms for you than the

government could ever afford."



"You don't need to that," I assured him.



"It's the least I can do, and I won't take no for an answer,"

his no nonsense voice was identical to his brother's.



Tacitly agreeing that it would be better to keep Donald happy,

we gave him the name of our hotel. Before we could slip out,

we were surrounded by society ladies and I began to fear that we

were going to be trapped here, just like Adelaide. Finally after

a half-hour of shaking hands, we managed to escape.



When we got back to the hotel we went straight to our rooms to

pack. We met at the front desk 15 minutes later to check out.



"Ah, Agent Mulder," the clerk said when he looked at his computer

screen. "I see Donald Skinner has reserved a room in your name."



Once we had settled the bill from our old rooms, the clerk handed

Mulder a key card. "There is a special elevator that goes straight

to the room. You'll need the key card to access the elevator."

He pointed toward an elevator in an alcove that I hadn't noticed

before.



"Thank you," Mulder smiled. "Only one room?" he asked under his

breath as we walked toward the elevator.



"It sounds like it's a huge suite. It probably has more than one

bed," I reasoned.



"Ahh," he nodded as he swiped the card.



When the elevator doors opened, I was surprised that we were

actually in a small entranceway and we needed to swipe the card

again to enter. Once inside, Mulder and I stood and looked

around in awe. I'd never been in a hotel room this big before. We

were standing in the living room, looking into the dining room.

Off the dining room was a set of French doors. Mulder opened them

to reveal the bedroom. The room was dominated by a four-poster

king sized bed. There were two other doors in the room. One led

to a walk-in closet and the other into a magnificent bathroom.

As soon as I saw the tub, I knew I had to have a bath.



"Can I join you?" Mulder grinned.



"How did you know I wanted to have a bath?" I laughed

incredulously.



"C'mon, Scully," Mulder rolled his eyes. "I think I know you

better than you know yourself."



"Then you shouldn't have had to ask if you could join me," I

grinned as I made a beeline for the gigantic tub.



While it was filling, Mulder helped me undress. Before I knew it

our clothes were in a heap on the floor and I was putty in

Mulder's hands. I would have been happy to make love on the marble

floor, but Mulder had other plans.



"Tub's ready," he pulled out of our kiss to inform me.



"MM.," I nodded, not looking at the tub. I was distracted by the

fact that he was very naked and very aroused.



"I want to wash your back," he took my hand and pulled me to the

tub, "And some other parts too."



Once we sank into the tub, not a lot washing went on. Instead

we touched and kissed each other like we'd been aching to for

days. I spent the entire time in Mulder's lap, my lips never

leaving his skin. I caressed his back and chest as if I'd

forgotten how they felt. His hands seemed to be moving

continuously; first to my breasts and then to my ass and back

again. Then one hand would slip to the back of my neck to deepen

our kiss, while the other lightly teased my sex. When I dropped

my hand to stroke his cock, he grunted into my mouth.



"Not here," he pulled back. "Not like this. I want to be inside

of you. God, I've missed you."



After carefully getting out of the tub, Mulder gathered me into

his arms and carried me to the bed. When he gently set me down,

I opened my arms to him. As he got to the bed, I spread my legs

so he could settle between them. Mulder and I had never made love

like this before. My newly pierced clitoral hood had made it

impossible.



"Are you sure?" Mulder looked hesitant.



"Very," I lowered my voice. "If I can use my fingers, I'm sure

this will be fine."



Mulder's eyes darkened even further as he lowered his body to

meet mine; his chest against mine, his stomach against mine.

When he slid his cock slowly into me, I groaned and arched my

body toward him.



"Scully," he hissed.



"You feel so good," I breathed into his ear.



"Unh," he groaned.



When he began to move and I rose to meet him, the beauty of my

piercing became perfectly clear to me. As our bodies moved, that

tiny ring rubbed against my clitoris making his every stroke pure

heaven. Mulder seemed to be moving at a much slower pace than was

typical for us, so I suspected he was very close.



With my hands firmly on his ass, I tried to get him to speed up.

My breathing was too ragged to form words, never mind sentences.



"Scully," Mulder grunted, "I'm..."



I tried to tell him it was all right, that I was very close, too,

but before I could, my orgasm exploded through me. I felt my

internal muscles tightening around his cock and then his

throbbing in response. His orgasm prolonged mine, and I thought

my quaking would never end. When I finally opened my eyes, Mulder

was looking down at me in amazement.



"Was that because of your ring?"



"Well, you helped too," I chuckled, still a little breathless.



"That was incredible," he sighed as he eased out of me and

flopped to his back.



"It was," I snuggled up to him. He put his arm around me

and pulled me closer. "But it may not all have been my piercing,"

I warned him. "The fact that we hadn't had sex since Monday

morning might have contributed."



"I guess we'll have to do some serious detective work to find

out," he chuckled and pulled me on top of him.



"We *will* have to be sure," I giggled as his lips teased my

neck.



We were still thoroughly engrossed in our afterplay, when a loud

knock at our door startled both of us. While Mulder scrambled to

find his pants, I slipped under the covers.



From the bedroom, I could hear Mulder open the door and begin to

talk to someone, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. A

minute later Mulder wheeled a cart into the bedroom. It was

loaded with food. Fruit, pate, cheese, chocolate sauce, rolls,

crackers and more were heaped onto the tray.



"What's all this?" I gaped.



"Courtesy of Donald and Marie Skinner," Mulder grinned and

reached for the bottle of champagne that was chilling. "I

definitely think we're working for the wrong Skinner."



end



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