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The X-Files Valentine Fanfic Exchange (2019)
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2019-02-16
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2019-02-16
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Falling Away

Summary:

(Post Drive for clerical reasons only)

Kersh’s assignment partially splits the team as Scully goes undercover under the watchful eye of Mulder as they both assist on an operation with SWAT and FBI personnel.

Notes:

Falling Away by Seven Lions (excerpt)

I didn't want to think
Cause I knew I was out of my mind
You pulled me from the brink
And brought me to the other side
And I
Think we're there
And I
Think we're there
So goodnight goodnight
Don't have to have it all figured out
We'll be alright
What comes about is gonna come about
Tomorrow when we meet
Just take me to a place I've never been
Find me in the sweetest oblivion

Disclaimer: Agent Scully, Agent Mulder, and Assistant Director Skinner belong respectively to Chris Carter, FOX Productions, and TenThirteen Productions. All other characters are original and any likeness or named similarities to any real-life persons are purely coincidental (unless, well, you’ve been told, then you should’ve expected such things and shouldn’t get upset over anything that happens to them, respectively)

Greta! I really hope you love this! I got inspired and just RAN with it.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Contrivance

Summary:

The stage is set - and the introductions to the undercover op are made...

Notes:

Las Vegas is home but I wasn't here during 1998 - please enjoy this heavily researched little journey

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

In the end, we only regret

The chances we didn’t take,

The relationships we were afraid to have,

And the decisions we waited too long to make.

-Lewis Carroll

 

August 24th, 1998 (Friday)

Las Vegas, Nevada

Central Command Unit – Undisclosed Location

 

                “Relax, unclench your jaw, and remember…use that smile,” Mulder’s voice was doing next to nothing to calm her nerves as she stood just inches from him, feeling halfway to naked in front of an entire team of FBI and SWAT members, who had been staring at her since she walked in from the dressing area. “I got you…I’m in your ear and I can see everything you see. The second you’re in over your head you have to use the word we agreed to.”

                “That’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one in stripper heels and a dress with a slit clear up to your neck, tits pushed together and shoved up to your chin,” Scully could hear a solitary laugh from the peanut gallery as she shot a sideways glare toward the group of the officers and Agents in the background.

                Mulder shook his head, half smirking with his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs rubbing a gentle circle to keep her eyes on him. “It’s only to your thigh and no one wants to see my tits smashed together.”

                “I’ll say…Vegas might be one of those less than moralistic cities but no one needs to see Mulder in a dress,” Skinner came out from the side, shaking his head as the comforting session of Scully was starting to pay off as she finally smiled and took a deep breath.

                “I don’t know about all that—I’ve got great legs,” Mulder looked her straight in the eye and coaxed a hell of a giggle in the process as she rolled her eyes in front of him.

                “Come on, can I at least put on a coat while I’m standing here? Everyone is staring at me like I’m fresh from a whore house,” Scully’s eyes widened as she held him by the collar, holding him far closer than necessary, a little irritated as she felt everyone’s eyes on her.

                Mulder had on a suit still from running the building sweep and nodded gently, probably more affectionately than he intended as he slid out of it and wrapped it around her, accidentally pushing her breasts together even further as he pulled it closed for her. He swallowed hard and got caught in her doe eyes as she inhaled sharply before letting go of the lapel, blushing immediately as he heard her sigh in spite of herself. It was awkward and the dimly lit room full of people were doing their level best to pretend not to notice as they could more than sense the awkwardness brewing in the air. Scully bit down on her bottom lip and averted her eyes at the floor, clearing her throat as Mulder resumed double checking that every wire was safely concealed from view.

                It’s not too late to not let her go out there. Mulder was stuck between a rock and a hard place as he stared up at her, her electric warmth radiating off of her with every little exhale.

                “Is that better?” Mulder glanced up at her from a crouching position as he tucked the last of her wire into the front of her dress, making sure that it was completely hidden between the layers of fabric, unnoticeable.

                “I know that you’re doing everything you can to keep my head on straight but, this feels like Modell all over again only I’m the one about to go headlong in front of the wolf looking like a sheep primed for slaughter, Mulder,” Scully glanced at the monitor, watching the moving image of Mulder’s face as he adjusted the pin lens along the sequined curve of her halter top, sliding the jacket out of way just a smidgen to make sure it wasn’t getting caught.

                “This is different, Scully; I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Every Agent and SWAT member will be carefully watching the monitors with me, ready to go after you the moment you need any assistance,” Mulder held her hand, lightly rubbing her palm as she stared at the monitor controls before making eye contact with him. “I think you know that our assignment to this operation is Kersh’s fucked up idea of sticking it to me after the Patrick Crump case that I decided to ignore orders on.”

                “Us…Mulder, sticking it to us,” Scully rubbed her lips together, redistributing the red shimmer that was more than a little distracting as evident by the staring. “You’re not the one wearing a dress.”

                Mulder had looked at her with that longing more than once before but this was a first time with an audience as he bit down on his lip and shook his head, taking his eyes off of her for a moment. “I’ll make it up to you if you promise to stop making me feel bad about it.”

                The smirk was genuine and mischievous as she found a stride as she shifted her weight from one hip to the other, clearing her throat. “What did you have in mind, then?”

                Mulder started to open his mouth just as the Training Manager for SWAT, Jacob Hendricks, approached from their right, like a bull in a China shop, and stopped scintillating little conversation full tilt. He wasn’t the least bit interested in their conversation nor in the embarrassment that he seemed to have inflicted by being the source of interruption as both gave him the wide eyed glance. His intention was clear, to push them into getting things started a little faster than they were progressing whether they even realized it or not. He didn’t seem to give a shit about the well-established friendship that was dangling over the edge of the Grand Canyon in his operation, the sensitivity of which was falling on deaf ears.

                “You’ve got fifteen minutes, Agents,” Hendricks had a headset on, adjusting the ear and mouth pieces as he made eye contact briefly, eyes glued to another set of monitors that seemed to be wired directly into the surveillance system. “Everything ready to go?”

                They nodded in unison as Hendricks started talking to the other team members, his voice carrying just enough that Scully was able to sigh without anyone noticing or anyone staring at her all over again. Both knew the risks associated with this case as they listened to the safety check and relay being discussed by the team members as they stayed quiet, contemplating the last moments before Scully would be stepping onto the floor of the 4 Queens to play a role that felt unreal. She slid Mulder’s coat off of her shoulders and meekly handed it back to him, shrugging at him as she stood in front of him like an unconfident, uncomfortable recipient of a makeover. Mulder hadn’t taken a moment to actually look at her and, despite the look on her face, she was beyond beautiful in an otherworldly sort of way. Scully felt a weak smile creeping across her lips as she met gazes with Mulder, feeling that last twinge of care that had gone into assembling everything for her—to assure her of her safety, to be the one that touched her, to be the one that needed to be in her personal space.

                “Ready as I’ll ever be,” Scully picked up the purse that nearly matched the purse and made eye contact with Skinner, eyes burning a hole through him as she slid the strap across her shoulder. “Remind me again why I’m not allowed to conceal a weapon in this dress.”

                “It wouldn’t fit anywhere,” Skinner had on his tactical jacket as he stood next to Mulder, the tense silence between them bordering on uncomfortable. “No sudden movements and remember your name.”

                “Joselyn Matthews…I’m from New York, here for a really good time, and I am about as bright as a box of rocks,” Scully had Mulder nearly laughing as she tucked her hair behind her ears, the little gold hoops shimmering with every move she made. “I’m uncomfortable not forgetful, Skinner.”

                “Just be nice to the gentlemen, Fancy, they’ll be nice to you,” Mulder’s knack for jokes was well-timed but not at all what she wanted to hear as he straightened out her borrowed necklace, lingering a little longer than necessary.

                “I’d punch you straight in the testicles if that reference weren’t so damn funny right now,” Scully started to turn her back on Mulder, turning just slightly to look back at him. “The moment that our codeword leaves my mouth, you’ll put a stop to this, right?”

                “You leave my jewels alone,” Mulder held his breath as he watched her approach the door with Skinner and Security Manager, Thomas Cabot, both of whom were doing their best to conceal her exact spot even with all things considered as the deep, vividly plum dress seemed to shine in the darkest of spaces. “The moment that I hear you say it, for any reason at all…I will come running, guaranteed.”

                “What word did you two set up as a safety?” Skinner seemed genuinely confused as he approached Mulder, who waited until the door was secured shut to move toward Hendricks, who hadn’t even bothered to make sure Scully left the operations room safely.

                “Don’t worry about it, Skinner,” Mulder shook his head as before he tapped him on the shoulder, capturing his full attention, lowering his voice in such a way that only he and Skinner could possibly hear the very serious threat. “If anything happens to her out there tonight and I mean anything off kilter, out of the ordinary, or she comes back with a hair out of place…I won’t hesitate in coming right for you to break your God damn jaw since you couldn’t be bothered to run your own sting. Got it?”

                “I’ve been conducting this trafficking sting for well over eighteen months, Agent Mulder, and your presence, while appreciated, is not necessary,” Hendricks didn’t have the stature or voice to intimidate Mulder but he tried as he held his hands on his hips. “My job is to put a stop to the bastard that has been snatching pretty little tourists for the personal collections of the highest bidders, some of which never actually make it that far because they didn’t make the God damn grade…now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to prevent that from happening to your partner.”

                “If you were capable of doing this on your own, I wouldn’t be here and neither would she,” Mulder was doing his best not to allow his temporary frustration to become full blown incensed as his eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Scully has her eyes open and knows who she is aiming for but we also have orders to be aware of every opportunity that doesn’t look right.”

                “I lost three informants to this psychopath’s little underground ring and I’ll be damned if I see an FBI Agent become swallowed up in this,” Hendricks had heavy bags under his eyes as he reached for a half empty cup of coffee. “I’ll die before another valuable female gets destroyed by this mother fucker…you can bet on that, Agent Mulder.”

                The show of bravado was exactly what Mulder was looking to avoid but the words were sincere as he flipped his microphone on and turned his attention to Scully as she stood under the brightly lit exterior façade of the Four Queens hotel and casino, shimmering like a sun catcher. The hum of busily working, attentive agents and SWAT team members around him provided next to no distraction as he stared at the four monitors in front of him, alternating between the live feed, Scully’s pin lens, and the interior overhead. It was busy regardless of the unfolding weather patterns outside as umbrellas folded and expanded around her as she entered the somewhat ornate, blast from the past casino floor. It was barely ninety seconds in and he was already chomping at the bit watching her approach the edge of the Craps tables, glancing just slightly at the games in progress.

                “You know, even in the monochromatic color scheme of these monitors, you look like you were born to wear that dress, Scully,” Mulder didn’t care that everyone wearing a headset or within five feet of him could hear his blatantly flirtatious compliment of his partner, he knew she needed to hear it as he could see her confidence faltering as she hesitated near the entrance to the bar seating.

                Scully’s smile was undeniable underneath of the misgivings that were still written on her face as she made a point to stand in front of a mirror for a little longer, checking her lipstick while her eyes scanned the background through the glass in front of her. The silence was killing Mulder but Scully’s lack of small talk was purely out of coincidence as she ascended the stairs toward a roped off area with a private bar and a few gambling tables with very well-to-do people. She flashed a little card at the man standing at the ropes and he let her in without a second glance. Scully had her eyes on a section of the little lounge area with comfortable chairs as she slid into one of them, obtaining a fantastic view of the casino floor as well as the lounge in the process.

                “What can I get you?” The bartender was there in under thirty seconds, placing a decorative, yet functional ‘4 Queens’ napkin on the small table in front of her.

                Scully was searching for the safe option in her head as she crossed her legs, exposing more of that slit up the side of the dress in the process, forcing a smile at the drink slinger. “Dirty martini…two olives?”

                “Hitting on me all the way from the casino, Scully?” Mulder sipped his coffee and watched her carefully on the monitor, listening to the sound of her breathing in his earpiece. “That’s my choice of drink.”

                Scully tapped the letters “F” and “U” in Morse code against the leather armrest while she continued to visibly people watch, not bothering to be the slightest bit covert about it. Her fingers glided along the leather, crisscrossing along the material, making louder than intended noise as she captured the attention of more than a few gentlemen onlookers, all of whom were disinclined to approach her as she appeared a little ruminative from a glance. The bar tender brought the martini over and placed it in front of her, making eye contact for only a moment as she gave him the credit card with her cover name scrawled across it to use as a tab. She waited until he was long gone to lift the glass to her lips, purposely playing with the decorative toothpick spearing the olives, little pimentos poking out on each.

                “A little provocative with the olives, don’t you think, Scully?” Mulder was standing next to Skinner, who was rolling his eyes as they watched her on the monitor, with an olive between her teeth, glass still up by her mouth.

                Scully visibly rolled her eyes, the glass still teetering by her mouth as she chewed the olive, trying not to draw a lot of attention. “Just needed an excuse to move my mouth without being obvious…I’ve got eyes on one of Hendricks’s suspects.”

Notes:

Quote by Lewis Carroll

Chapter 2: Graceland

Summary:

(Post Drive for clerical reasons only)

Kersh’s assignment partially splits the team as Scully goes undercover under the watchful eye of Mulder as they both assist on an operation with SWAT and FBI personnel.

Scully awkwardly descends into her role to expose a trafficker while Mulder operates as her eyes and ears from a command post.

Notes:

"Don't Let It Get You"
-Unknown Neon Warning

Disclaimer: Agent Scully, Agent Mulder, and Assistant Director Skinner belong respectively to Chris Carter, FOX Productions, and TenThirteen Productions. All other characters are original and any likeness or named similarities to any real-life persons are purely coincidental (unless, well, you’ve been told, then you should’ve expected such things and shouldn’t get upset over anything that happens to them, respectively)

Fremont Street History - the first set of overhead shows involved a tribute to Las Vegas. If you ever want to see what I mean, let me know.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

 

Hopes rise and dreams flicker and die.

Love plans for tomorrow and loneliness thinks of yesterday.

Life is beautiful and living is pain.

The sound of music floats down a dark street.

-Hunter S. Thompson

 

 

7:45 PM

VIP Lounge – 4 Queens Casino

               

                The precipitation had been coming down in a solid sheet, varying with the wind, for hours and the half flowing river along the street was finally back-washing against the sidewalk. Scully wasn’t a fan of the crowd developing as the rain outside only intensified, carrying more of the party crowd from outside into the casino, to the lounges and restaurants that normally didn’t see larger crowds until closer to nine or ten. Scully had been nursing a second drink for the past fifteen minutes and was getting long, fixated gawks from a group of men that had made their way into the lounge after cleaning house at the poker tables. Hendricks’s heavily watched suspect hadn’t even made a move toward her since she had arrived and part of her found it odd that he hadn’t even so much as glanced at the dress as she leaned against the cushion, provocatively angling her tongue against the glass while she continued looking around at all movement.

                He did nothing, he didn’t even flinch…it was as though he knew she was there for a reason or he wasn’t looking for her type anymore.

                “Scully, maybe you should be at the bar for a while, you’ll still have a great bird’s eye view and anyone looking at you will be that much more obvious,” Mulder’s voice in her ear sent an involuntary shiver down her spine as she gathered the glass, blushing immediately over the suggestion. “Don’t tell me you’ve already had too much to drink…Lightweight.”

                 The bartender smiled at her as she walked over and wiped down a section of the lacquer as she slid onto one of the cushiony seats. “Getting bored of having a bunch of old men leer at you over there, doll?”

                “Oh, no, I really hadn’t noticed,” Scully nervously laughed as she became heavily aware of the slit in the dress as she crossed her legs and felt the breeze along her thigh, down the length of her leg. “I thought I’d catch a few of the scores since I’m not at home to see any of the games?”

                “Smooth, Scully, very smooth,” Mulder had her grinning more than the bartender was as she held the martini glass between her fingers, looking up at the monitors behind his head.

                “Where you from?” He was expert at small talk, like most were in his profession as he poured a couple of shots for the patrons on the other side of the bar.

                “New York…Flew in last night, supposed to meet up with some girlfriends but they seem to be MIA or not interested in having the good time that they promised me,” Scully swirled the only remaining olive in the glass, watching the cloudy liquid dance as she kept tabs on another table full of men, wearing nearly identical suits and ties, who had been eyeing her since she moved to the bar.

                “Ditched? Hell of a welcome to Las Vegas,” the bartender was multitasking like a pro as he went to the other end of the bar, greeting a couple of new people that had come up for drinks while pouring three more drinks in the process. “I think you came to the right lounge to forget all about it and if you get bored, you can go watch those lights outside, come back inside for a while. It’s the best.”

                “Great little advertisement you have going for yourself,” Scully glanced at the weather report and watched as another flash flood warning popped up on the bottom of the screen, slowly crawling across the bottom in bright, red bannering causing her to gesture toward it. “Does that happen often here? I wasn’t expecting to drown in the parking lot.”

                “You came to the desert during monsoon season, New York. Can get pretty bad out there if you don’t know what you’re doing,” he turned his head toward the opposite corner of the bar and wrinkled his nose at a couple of newcomers to the bar seating. “Excuse me just a moment.”

                “Scully, the control room is far from any flood water, I know where that brain is going,” Mulder had been a little quiet as he was listening to her converse with the bartender, her eyes slowly scanning the casino floor again just beyond the barricades. “You keep your eyes on the prize…we’ll worry about the weather.”

                She tapped “ok” in Morse code onto the top of the bar and took another little sip of the martini, maintaining a rigid posture as she swiveled in the bar stool. Scully’s eyes had been scanning for the subtlest of changes in body language and even their choice in company as she watched Hendricks’s suspect completely turn his attention toward her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she watched him slide down the bar in her direction, a cheesy, almost obnoxiously over pronounced smile forming on his lips as he bridged the gap between them. Scully was mentally screaming as the mere sight of him gave her the heebie-jeebies but she held her composure and finished the remnants of the martini before reaching for the lipstick in her purse to refresh the color. It was a simple and effective gesture to gather composure, at the very least, even if she found herself secretly wishing she could’ve requested Mulder’s assistance directly in the field this time.

                “Is this seat taken?” His voice was deep, grating like a chronic smoker but captivating enough that she could see how an unsuspecting woman might be taken in without a second glance.

                Scully’s eyes looked through him as she shook her head and pushed the glass toward the edge of the bar, the contents emptied. “Not at all.”

                “What’s a lovely little thing doing in a place like this?” His eyes were spending far too much time lingering over the slit in the dress for her liking as she adjusted her seated position and ran a couple of fingers through her hair, fluffing the side just a little. “Or are the drinks just strong enough to make the surroundings acceptable for a classy looking lady like you?”

                “You don’t know what kind of lady I am to make such a bold assumption—for all you know it’s just the dress on a less than average woman or you’re just flattering a seemingly unattached female in a dim little lounge on a lonely night,” Scully had been studying the profile well and knew that the man she was face to face with enjoyed a self-deprecating yet self-assured woman, who didn’t seem to mind an air of mystery as she leaned onto her elbow and purposely looked beyond him, at the crowd outside.

                Stick to the profile, Dana, stick to the profile. Don’t let him see you as anything but what the profile clearly laid out for you. Scully was reeling even though there was nothing to panic over yet.

                “Now I’m thoroughly intrigued,” His unremarkable brown eyes finally found her face as he sat in the adjacent stool, swiveling it in such a way that he was fully looking at her. “What’s your name, far from average, interesting woman? I’m James Maran…I sing over at the Fremont.”

                “So you just come over to the 4 Queens for drinks? Desperation or have you run through the pool already at the Fremont?” Scully found confidence in backwards interrogation as she gestured to the bartender and tapped the top of her glass. “It’s Joselyn Matthews.”

                “You’ve been paying attention a little too well to Skinner’s brand of seduction, Scully, but you seem to be capturing his full regard,” She wasn’t a fan of his long periods of silences and felt that relieved pang hit her stomach as his voice filled her ear.

                James covered Scully’s hand, preventing her from making any further motions for the bartender, who was already making his way toward them. “Let me buy you a drink, then, Joselyn…as a thank you for deciding to wear that dress out amongst all of these middle aged cretins, myself included.”

                “So you’re a connoisseur of overpriced, overdone gowns, huh?” Scully moved her hand away from him and leaned against the back of her own barstool, resting her hand across her lap. “If you’re insisting on it, I’ll have a Hudson’s White…”

                “You’re supposed to be flirting with James instead of making a pass at me from the casino,” Mulder teased, pausing just enough to get her smirking a little. “Keep him talking…you’ve got him at the tips of your fingers and if you can get him to bite the end of the line, we might be able to figure out where this asshole’s trail leads.”

                “That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” James turned his head toward the bartender, “I need a Gin and tonic and a Hudson’s White for the pretty little out-of-towner to my right…”

                “Hudson’s? You are a New Yorker,” the bartender winked in Scully’s direction and went to work on the drinks as he realized half of his ingredients were at the opposite end of the bar.

                “Long way to travel alone, Joselyn,” James’s vocal tone went low and nearly became drowned out entirely with the loudest clap of thunder outside that managed to echo through the casino. “Old lady Mojave is angry at us tonight…nothing like a musty, old broad having a major bout of menopause, am I right?”

                Scully didn’t want to laugh but she did as the comparison of the Mojave Desert to a menopausal woman had her picturing it in the most wrong of ways as she actually found him non-threatening and the exact opposite of the man laid out in the profile. “Sounds like you have a little history with the grand climacterically inflicted women? Is that your fetish?”

                “Nicely done, Scully, nicely done,” Mulder’s voice was keeping her sane as she remembered to glance around the room again, marking the dullest of changes in body language and feeling no red flags as this sting was looking more and more like an enormous waste of resources.

                “Matt, explain to Joselyn the finer points of a sexy old broad before she flicks me shit for saying that the Golden Girls were hot,” James leaned across the bar as the bartender turned around with their drinks in hand, causing Scully’s eyes to bug out just a little as the subject had gone completely into left field.

                Matt, the bartender, wrinkled his nose and placed the drinks in front of them as he mulled over it for a moment before nodding gently. “Every flavor to savor and whiskey only gets better as it ages, just like wine, New York…and the Golden Girls had every brand of sexy old broad.”

                “You two are nuts,” Scully rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink, determining that she needed to signal back to the crew that they were obviously after the wrong man and the dubiousness of even tailing him was irritating her. “Certifiable.”

                “Variety is the spice of life, Joselyn, and every woman needs love,” James took a healthy swig of his drink and made a very interesting face as he looked at a significantly older woman’s posterior who was passing by with her husband. “I can’t help that I am a purveyor of all things romance.”

                “You have got to be an Elvis impersonator over at the Fremont,” Scully wasn’t getting predatory vibes off of James as he was doing his best to make her laugh rather than uncomfortable but she knew that the tactic of a well versed wolf was making any woman comfortable enough to let her guard down. “You did not just scope out that woman’s ass.”

                “James wishes he were on that level, he’s lucky enough to sound a little like Manilow when he isn’t mainlining the liquor and smoking his wannabe imported cigars like they’re going out of style,” Matt wiped down a set of glasses and poured a beer for another regular who had popped up at the bar. “Don’t inflate his ego by even intimating it.”

                The profile from the SWAT team was off and something had Scully concerned that Hendricks had been surveilling the wrong guy for eighteen months as she sat next to a man who was every bit the opposite of what she’d envisioned—and not at all what protocol would design or envision. The profile didn’t fit him and her mind couldn’t wrap around the idea of continuing to drag him into the deep knowing that there was a chance that he wasn’t it. Mulder’s ideology with regard to profiling kept sliding into her forethoughts as she struggled to imagine this man slipping drugs in her drink and selling her off to the highest bidder. She struggled to imagine being chained in a holding cell with other women who had been reduced to being nothing more than a number, waiting for a similar fate—or worse. It did not fit and not even a moment of it was truly making any sense as she could only picture him being the center of attention, inadvertently being the convenient distraction…a well-placed patsy to take the focus off of what should’ve been obvious if eyes had been completely open.

                Her eyes wandered but no one was looking in their direction and it kept her even further in the shadows, completely stranded without a lifeline knowing at least eleven women were still missing and the man in front of her certainly didn’t do anything.

                “Hey, Joselyn, was that drink too strong?” James brought her out of her thoughts with a hand to the shoulder, his genuine concern pouring out as he held onto his own glass with the other hand. “You looked a little pale…thought I was going to be dealing with puke on the floor in about twenty seconds.”

                Scully’s eyes conveniently found a gold clad amateur showgirl standing in the wide doorway toward Fremont Street, the neon lights shimmering against the sequin, glitter, and rhinestone getup she was wearing complete with feathers on top. “Oh, uh, no…I got stuck like a deer in the headlights looking at the showgirl across the casino. I hadn’t actually witnessed one walking around yet.”

James followed her line of sight and made a whistling sound as he nodded before turning back toward her, smirking like a teenaged boy that had just gotten his first glimpse of panties while scouting out underneath of the bleachers at a basketball game. “Oh yeah, the amateur hour is in full effect tonight. We get an abundance of those, even the ones that should never, ever do it…but Vegas definitely does love the freaky-deaky.”

                “I need you to take a sip of your drink if you’re fine, Scully, because I’m a bit helpless over here and I can’t really tell what’s going on,” Mulder’s voice was soft in her ear but she picked up the glass and took a minuscule but effective swallow of her mixer, still pacing herself with a fair amount of alcohol running through her system. “Don’t be trying to play the tough FBI woman or I’ll be whooping your ass later…I know you’re listening to me.”

                Scully smirked from behind the glass and set it against the lacquer top of the bar and scooted back, getting her spine a little bit less awkward as she felt it pop in a couple spots. “Well dammit, James…why did you let me sit here slouching? Now my shoulders and back are all sore.”

                “I’ve got a solution, hold on, hold on, hold on,” James had his glass damn near empty in a fraction of a second as he was sliding out of his seat like an eager little boy as he maneuvered to the back of her barstool, “I mean…may I?”

                “Scully, you’re a bad woman, absolutely terrible, incorrigible, just plain wrong…but that’s one way of skinning a cat,” Mulder didn’t want to be amused but he was, in an instant, over her display of confident flirtatiousness. “You’ve been holding out on me on this other side of you.”

                “If that halter comes undone, James, I will make certain that however many offspring you currently have running around will be your last, got it?” Scully was playing her part to perfection, towing the line between gutsy and provocative as she raised her index at him and kept looking forward, toward Matt. “Is he always like this?”

                “A sad, little puppy that develops a crush on over fifty percent of the women that go walking into the bar?” Matt snorted, filling another drink for James while he was still perched behind Scully, lightly rubbing the spot between her shoulders like a nervous teenager. “Yeah, but women like him…probably a little too much.”

                “You’re just mad it worked on your Mom, buddy,” James was boasting but his mannerisms were far from confident as his eyes widened and he mouthed ‘oh my God’ from behind the barstool while clumsily massaging her shoulder blades. “I’ve got skills, don’t be jealous that I actually use a few of them while you’re too busy being the weekend confessional, Father Matty.”

                “There’s wrong and there’s watching your partner getting her shoulders massaged by a guy in the middle of a Las Vegas casino,” Mulder was more than just in her head as his voice had gone timid, his chuckle fake. “Turning me into a voyeur and I’m getting paid for it, Scully.”

                “I’m sensing some tension and not just the kind that just made camp between my shoulder blades,” Scully picked up her glass and took a sip, her eyes lingering over the developing crowd outside in spite of the increasing downpour that was beginning to create a river with a current against the drains, flowing toward the intersection. “What’s going on out there?”

                “It’s almost the top of the hour—have you ever seen one of the light shows in the canopy?” James was incredibly respectful of her boundaries as he moved to the side of her and took his hands away from her shoulders, peeking out toward the edge of the casino floor.

                “No, I haven’t, but is it really safe to go out there with thunder, lightning, and a heavy downpour?” Scully made eye contact with him and adjusted her purse across her shoulder. “I mean, that…and you do see the expensive ridiculousness that I’m wearing, right?”

                James nodded, almost laughing a bit as he held out his hand to her. “You’ll be under the casino awning for the most part and the lightning will hit high up if it’s anywhere near here…it’s kind of worth it, even with this rain. You afraid to get wet, Joselyn?”

                Mulder was snorting in to the earbud and had Scully damn near pissed off in an instant as the question came off sexually charged. “Oh, Scully, please answer that question…”

                Scully shook her head and took another drink of the whiskey cocktail, desiring nothing more than to be having Mulder ready to pull her out of that bar stool but having him hear her talk would just have to suffice. “No, I suppose it’ll dry off and not ruin it.”

                Scully knew this was her chance to get out in the open, look at the expanse of the crowd, and have a clear path to make a run for it as she accepted the assistance down from the barstool. Matt shot her a wink as he gathered her nearly empty glass and put it behind the bar, wiping down the lacquer top as she followed James toward the edge of the casino floor. Her eyes were investigative as they looked around at everyone but must’ve come across as full of wonder as they widened and the expression on her face became a little more curious than it had when she first arrived. Duality had taken over as she glanced at James as he turned to smile at her; her brain doing its best to pick him apart and see the devil beneath but she was only seeing a man in front of her, with the best of intentions. Every flag was going off at the idea of the man in front of her getting gang tackled in front of a crowd, knowing there was any inkling of innocence.

                That they’d aimed their finger at the wrong man and she couldn’t let him pay the price.

                “Don’t go too far beyond the edge of the casino or I’ll lose you entirely off all of the cameras and have to hack into the shitty feed from the Fremont view that has been shaking in the wind, Scully,” Mulder knew he had a limited, semi obstructed view of Fremont street as his voice brought her out of her little trance as she came to the edge of the carpet.

                Scully looked at the thin watch across her wrist and noted that it was nearly ten as she felt rather exposed in front of the massive crowd that was meandering around in the torrential downpour, the energy lulling as everyone stayed out of the half rushing river that had developed in the middle of Fremont. The rain hadn’t really put a damper in the electric, bordering on hedonistic energy that seemed to radiate in the streets of Las Vegas and billow like smoke into the air as Scully couldn’t help but glance at bodies swaying, touching, and flashing in various degrees of exposure. Not one person seemed the slightest bit embarrassed by the state of undress that they might’ve been in as some moved by clad in the tiniest of bottoms, tops only markedly covered by paints or glitters. Scully wasn’t stunned by it but she couldn’t help but wonder if they were locals or simply from out of town desiring nothing more than to slide outside of their own skin, shed that last layer of inhibition, and touch someone.

                It was no wonder that victimology became so easy—so ready and willing.

                James was still moving forward through a section of people, pulling her forward until they were at the edge of the awning, the lights of the 4 Queens entrance still dancing in her peripheral. The realization was drawing that she was completely unprotected from the rear as she glanced over her shoulder at the bustling casino behind her, the chills moving up her back as she felt the wind change. The humidity was still thick but was now a laced with the cold as it came from the North and swirled across the crowd, the omen with her mouth stretched to the ground, silently screaming at her. Being in front of everyone wasn’t the issue—it was having no one protecting her flank that had her on high alert as she slid to the right and stood against the barrier despite accidentally blocking half of the camera angles from seeing her position. She had come outside and unessentially put herself into harm’s way without even realizing that the tide had turned, leaving her open to the problematic.

                “Can you see the canopy okay from there or do you need to slide forward and stand in front of me?” James turned, keeping a respectful distance between them as he pointed toward the sky, aiming at the pillars that held up the angular display above them.

                Scully forced a smile as she nodded and looked up just as the lights along the street went out one after the other. “Yeah, this is perfect…and I’m dry back here, thank you.”

                “Here we go, then, keep looking up, Joselyn!” James waved at a few people as they passed by while Scully’s attention turned toward the swarm of people that had continued to swell along the sidewalk and onto the saturated street in front of them.

                The lights above were bright and the beginning notes of Viva Las Vegas had Scully reeling as she almost didn’t want to look at the fabulous display of technology above her. Everyone was singing along and enjoying the music while she wanted nothing more than to abandon ship, tell the SWAT team and the FBI to cut the sting completely, and come get her out of this. It wasn’t worth the swirling agony brewing within her as she glanced up for a moment as the bright lights were elegantly dancing to the music, each little piece moving like poetry across the canopy. She felt thoroughly sick as the crowd was closing in, making the already small space that she was perched against that much smaller, that much more imposing as the smiling man in front of her turned completely away from her, swaying to the music. She held her breath and looked around, scanning the crowd again, trying her best to differentiate each face, each little change in personality, and saw nothing but a sea of the nameless as the music was bitterly different from reality.

                The switch had been flipped—and her gut was telling her that something wasn’t quite right as she made the smallest of motions to flee.

                “Ouch,” Scully felt a formidable pinch against her right shoulder that had her seeing stars as her head spun in that direction; the dizziness following like a freight train without brakes as she struggled to focus on whoever had cozied up to her left hand side.

                He was imposing, taller by a foot, muscular, and had definitely bathed in Old Spice as she nearly vomited from the smell alone but the voice that followed had her even more bothered as he purposely stood against the barrier next to her. “Quite the show, isn’t it?”

                Scully swallowed hard and felt her legs go weak as she tried to position the pin lens at him, her voice meek as the song started to transition to Wayne Newton. “Nothing will ever compare to Graceland.”

Notes:

Quote by:
Hunter S Thompson

References Made:
Golden Girls

Chapter 3: Six and a Half Minutes

Summary:

(Post Drive for clerical reasons only)

The undercover sting becomes the bane of Mulder and Scully’s existence as everything that could go wrong does and Mulder races to prevent more damage from occurring before it begins.

Notes:

**Trigger Warning: Description of abduction and violent sequences **

Disclaimer: Agent Scully, Agent Mulder, and Assistant Director Skinner belong respectively to Chris Carter, FOX Productions, and TenThirteen Productions. All other characters are original and any likeness or named similarities to any real-life persons are purely coincidental (unless, well, you’ve been told, then you should’ve expected such things and shouldn’t get upset over anything that happens to them, respectively)

Rain Slowly Slides
Down the Glass
As if the Night
Is Crying
-Unknown

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Between too early and too late,

There is never more than a moment.

-Franz Werfel

 

Central Command Unit

10:02 PM

 

                “Nothing will ever compare to Graceland,” Scully’s voice had changed and Mulder knew it as his eyes passed over each monitor, looking for every change imaginable as their codeword fell from her lips like poured wine.

                “No, no, no, no…fuck,” Mulder didn’t take his eyes off of the monitors, flashing between each one as his heart jumped into his throat. “I need his face, Scully, come on, show me his face.”

                Mulder watched the feed from the pin lens and saw it jump upwards toward the figure that had clearly invaded what little of a bubble that the sidewalk had provided, before it moved sharply toward a profusion of people. The image was jumpy, bordering on blurred, as the gloved hands of her attacker skidded into view and caused Scully to spin in the opposite direction, with visible intention of running. He could hear her struggling to breathe, the muffled movement of leather sliding over the exposed microphone near the camera lens, gagging on her own spit, and then helplessly bore witness as the monitor picked up her hands meeting pavement, the flashing lights from above reflecting in the water below her fingertips as she splashed and struggled just to maintain balance above the wrist deep water. Part of him was half relieved that he couldn’t hear any sobbing but he knew that wasn’t the woman that he had become so attached to and so mindless without. More than just being attacked had gone wrong as he could see her fingers helplessly groping at the pavement, before the distinctly masculine shadow blocked the light and yanked her to a standing position, the immediate flashing of lights in front of her from The Golden Nugget as she was forced closer, pushed toward the edge against her will.

                He was throttling her toward the west, toward a literal dead end street.

                “Let go of me,” Scully’s voice was weak and had Mulder’s nostrils flaring as he did everything humanly possible not to lose his shit right there as he watched her impelling against the man’s overly large chest. “Who the fuck are you?”

                “Skinner, I need you to put on an earbud and tell me if that camera angle changes direction,” Mulder didn’t turn around but Skinner knew it wasn’t good as he came around the corner. “I don’t know how long I have but I’m not sitting here…I made a promise and she used the codeword. I’m going out there to get her.”

                “Agent Mulder, we have SWAT already en route to detain James Maran and stop all of this before it progresses any further. I need you in this room keeping your cool,” Hendricks was trying stop Mulder at the door, the immediate attempt at dominating the situation as he held onto Mulder’s sleeve. “Don’t force me to make it an order.”

                Mulder shoved Hendricks against the wall and held him there, his fingers half coiling around his neck, the frustration mounting as he glared at him. “My partner is out there, disoriented and unarmed, completely defenseless because of your cause—and I made a God damn promise that I intend on keeping, with or without your orders. I can hear her in my ear and I’m not sitting here with my hands under my ass waiting for you to make a call while she’s out there fighting!”

                “Mulder, go, they’ve reached the edge of The Golden Nugget, still heading West,” Skinner had an earbud and mic set up as he stepped closer, keeping his eyes on the monitor. “I don’t know how long he’ll keep her on that path but you need to hurry.”

                Hendricks needed to go ahead and thank Skinner along with his lucky stars as Mulder let him loose and swung the door open, nearly letting the assault of rainfall outside into the command unit in the process. He was out into the half flooded first level of the parking garage in just a few seconds, fully submerged to his ankles in the rushing water as it came down from the upper levels like rapids headed toward the falls. His tactical boots under his slacks were filled as the lights of passing headlights on the street outside shimmered in the flowing water, the heavy swash of water almost hitting him clean up to his waist as he broke out into a full sprint, heart and mind propelling him forward, willing him to find her, to get to her. The thunder above roared and sent a tremor down his spine as he ran across the pavement, headed for the edge of the barrier that led to the entrance of Casino Center Boulevard. None of it mattered as he could hear Scully’s voice in his ear, wracked by fear as she struggled with her captor in spite of the massive crowd that seemed to pay no mind to the petite, overdressed woman being dragged down the sidewalk by a significantly larger man.

                “Mulder…” Scully’s voice softly cracking had him on the edge of losing what was left of his composure as he could hear the voice of Tom Jones in the distance above the sound of the heavy downpour and intermittent thunder overhead.

                “Skinner, where are they?” Mulder had reached the edge of Fremont Street, the lights above still flashing as he turned toward the west without a second’s hesitation, running toward The Golden Nugget.

                “They are rapidly approaching the edge of Fremont Street,” Skinner was invested almost as much as Mulder as he half growled before continuing. “Fuck, just get there, no matter what it takes, get there.”

                “Keep fighting, Scully, keep, fighting, please, I’m right behind you,” Mulder was shoving his way through the crowd, ignoring the frustrated grunts and growls as he half knocked over people along the way.

                Mulder was running out of time and he knew it as the canopy’s illuminated display and musical accompaniment seemed to be reaching a slow crescendo, signaling a finale, of sorts, as Mulder crossed the street against the traffic signal, narrowly missing a car in the process.  He looked toward the Plaza’s darkened building perched across Main Street, the hazy sea of people in front of him seemingly blending together as he plowed through, half drowning in the rain as it fell from above and collected at his feet. He was listening to the changes in Scully’s breathing patterns in his earpiece as they began to thread, her agitation and growing hysteria evident with every passing moment. She was still putting up a hell of a fight as he could hear the jostling of the microphone along with her heavy breathing and grunts as the barrier where Fremont Street finally met Main Street came into full view underneath of the burning lights of the traffic signal.

                “You God damn bitch,” the booming voice of a man echoing in the crowd along with his ear followed by the distinct pop-slap sound of leather deftly thrashing skin had Mulder reeling as he scanned the crowd. “She fucking bit me!”

                Mulder was stuck in the crowd like an unwilling dead fish in the oversized sardine can that Fremont Street had become—complete with the humid downpour that left the air thick and hot when the wind wasn’t blowing. Edgy and uneasy wasn’t enough of a description as Mulder patted his holster, almost contemplated clearing his pathway in a more effective way as he grappled with the crowd. Mulder’s pupils dilated as he spotted her cheek first, already reddened by the gloved backhand to the face, an arm gathered under and around her armpit, yanking her in a backwards direction until the small of her back hit the metal bollard along the edge of Fremont’s mouth. She had already kicked that same barrier and sent a metallic thump echoing into the air that became swallowed up by the masses and the heavy music still ringing out over the loudspeaker. Her head snapped back as she silently cried toward the sky, desperately grabbing at the bollard, soaked down the front of her dress, mascara already running down her face from the rain. Mulder was too close not to be able to reach out and pull her back from danger as he shoved his way forward, bridging the gap between them until there was no more than fifteen feet between them. As he took those laborious, yet necessary steps toward her, he could hear the combative hiss from her in both of his ear like a stereo with blown speakers as the thunder above rolled again and a set of tires squealed before the door of a blacked out van slid open less than five feet behind Scully’s assailant.

                “Scully!” Mulder called out to her, gaining her attention along with the man dragging her toward the van, his entire body shaking as he nearly had her fingers within his grasp as he reached out across the top of the same, rounded metal post that she had been gripping.

                Scully was weak but his voice was piercing as she held out her arms, putting every last ounce of energy that she had left into breaking the grip around her, the pure terror across her face as she could nearly feel his warmth against the tips of her fingers. “Mulder!”

                A loud, resounding series of blasts from far behind Mulder gave the crowd just enough panic to erupt into a series of screams and jostling melee that gave Scully’s captor the window of opportunity that had her vocalizing above the crowd noise. Mulder knew what it meant, what it entailed, and the repercussions were dire as gunfire meant so much worse than seconds slipping away as a blink felt like an eternity. It was enough to tear away the moment of hope as balance was thrown and Mulder nearly toppled over at the hands of the pure pandemonium that was unfolding behind him. He couldn’t think about it, all he could process was the woman that he couldn’t imagine living without, was hanging in the balance as he pressed on, gathering his wits to reach her. She would have done the same for him in a heartbeat if the roles were reversed and he knew it—without hesitation.

                “Everybody, move out of my way!” Mulder shouted at the crowd in spite of the frightened screams, his eyes locked on Scully.

                Mulder was moderately violent as he knocked over the scattering, confused people in front of him as his partner, his best friend, was being helplessly dragged backwards, toward the van that had stayed stalled at a steady green. Scully continued to grapple in spite of the futility of the situation, thrashing both arms and legs as the man gave her a singular heave into the back of the van while the absolute chaos nearly consumed Mulder. He fought his way forward as he could hear her shouting his name above the uncontrolled howling from the masses, his chest aching as her voice was now reaching a level he hadn’t heard in a very long time. Her voice became nothing more than a muffled mess in his ear as he watched the additional occupants of the van reach from the interior, sliding a hood across Scully’s face, preventing her from maintaining her fear stricken gaze back at him before the door was violently pulled shut.

                “Son of a bitch! Stop, you son of a bitch!” Mulder was shouting as he drew his gun from the holster, precisely aiming it at the back of the van as it began to speed off, the sheet of precipitation half blinding him as he struggled to see to identify the numericals, not wanting to take a hasty shot and risk Scully’s life more than he already had. “Unidentified plates on a 1997 GMC Savana Cargo…black exterior, tinted windows, it’s headed North on Main Street. Skinner, call it in…they’ve fucking got her.”

                “Mulder, you’re going to want to get back here as soon as you are able to gather your bearings enough to do so,” Skinner was in his ear as the sick feeling started to brew in his stomach as the van was nearly out of sight.

                Mulder leaned against the safety bollard, the contents of his stomach swirling around angrily as he glanced down at the smeared handprint in the middle of the dome that belonged to Scully. He couldn’t help himself as the tears were in his eyes, his mental processes instantly fixating on the dainty marks between his thumbs and pictured her hand there, sliding backwards, struggling to grip the spot as the rain fell against it. He clamped his eyes shut, stamping out the clear as day mental image, and wanted to only think of her face and of that endless fight that she possessed that no other woman even held a candle to in quite the same way. It was the only thought that was keeping him sane as the raindrops against his skin amplified, the sound echoing in his ears as he stared down at the water collecting over the tops of his boots.

                I have to explain this to Margaret Scully if I can’t bring her back immediately—safe and sound. I can’t do it, again. I can’t watch that woman cry all over again. Mulder was zoning out but honing in on the clicking and tinkering sound of the rain against metal as his eyes drifted over something shimmering in the water, glimmering like a little beacon.

                Mulder knelt down and picked it up, the water pouring out of it like an overturned vase, the contents remaining as he held it between his fingers, focusing on it just enough to realize that it belonged to Scully. He gathered it in his hands like it was a delicate extension of her person; the contents soaked through, the strap saturated heavily, and knew for an absolute certain that it was the one that she had been carrying. He picked it out for her, after all, so that she could fit everything she needed in it without being the slightest bit tempted to go hiding a weapon in there even if she were inclined to try. It matched the dress and it earned him a raised eyebrow so it must’ve been the right choice.

                At least he had hoped that’s what it meant in Scully-land.

                Mulder tilted his head up as the lights started to come back on from the canopy light show and noted that it took six and a half minutes for a nightmare to unfold—six and a half minutes to know that he was literally three seconds too late in reaching for his partner to rescue her from what she never should’ve had to face alone. The Golden Gate casino lights began to rock back and forth above his head, drenching him a little further as his eyes wandered over the expanse of the still meandering crowd, guilt setting in. He hated himself for not saying something sooner about not letting her go in there alone—not facing this entire operation without a safety net firmly in place.

                This was so much worse than being hours too late as her fingertips touching his continuously flashed into his consciousness, leaving him with an ache in his chest as he turned toward the raging river of Fremont street.

                “She is never going to forgive me for this, Skinner,” Mulder had gone soft toned as the words were hanging on his lips like a confession to a priest as he wiped his eyes, the emotion bitterly written in neon. “I wouldn’t forgive me…I’m never going to forget the look in her eyes.”

                “Before you start talking about forgiveness over your pity party, she did enough moving around and wiggling of that fucking camera you rigged up that we might have enough to more than ID the prick that did this,” Skinner was making a lot of noise in his earbud along with the sound of road noise that accompanied, likely belonging to a heavily sedated Scully in the back of the van. “…and the camera is still rolling.”

                “You should’ve seen the look on her face,” Mulder was rambling as he grazed his thumb over the closure on her purse, shaking his head in disbelief. “Worse than the face she does when I’ve undoubtedly disappointed her…so much worse than that.”

                “Mulder, are you listening to me?” Skinner needed Mulder to focus as he raised his voice, causing Mulder to stare at the twinkling lights of Oscars in front of the Plaza hotel. “God dammit, listen to me!”

                Mulder was still a little aloof but he was at least paying attention as he took a deep breath, exhaling as he saw the flashing lights of multiple squad cars in the distance. “I have to find her—I can’t picture a day without her keeping me on my toes and halfway out of the fire.”

                “If you really want to get her back then you need to shut up, collect yourself, and get your ass back in here so I can show you what we’ve got on the guy that grabbed her,” Skinner was hot under the collar as he continued his diatribe. “Scully’s camera is still capturing every moment of this and you’re going to need to be paying attention so we can get these sons of bitches.”

Notes:

Quotes by
Unknown
Franz Werfel

Chapter 4: Crutiamentum

Summary:

Post Drive for clerical reasons only)

The identity of the trafficker is discovered and Scully’s life hangs in the balance while Mulder races to discover the exact location of his partner.

**Trigger Warning: Description of abduction and violent sequences **

Notes:

Disclaimer: Agent Scully, Agent Mulder, and Assistant Director Skinner belong respectively to Chris Carter, FOX Productions, and TenThirteen Productions. All other characters are original and any likeness or named similarities to any real-life persons are purely coincidental (unless, well, you’ve been told, then you should’ve expected such things and shouldn’t get upset over anything that happens to them, respectively)

Title loosely translates to - torment in Latin

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

 

Don’t forget that maybe

You are the lighthouse

In someone’s storm.

-Unknown

 

Near the 3000 block of Bel Air Drive        

 

                Barely twenty minutes had elapsed since Scully held her breath in the middle of the storm, the effects of an unknown drug starting to sizzle in her blood stream, as she was within a heartbeat of touching Mulder’s hands. She had been unconscious since the hood went on, fading in and out as she fought the dosing meant to make her malleable, pleasant to deal with, but she had been less than that as each moment of lucidity also brought violent thrashing that inevitably cost her the rest of her mobility as the zip-ties were affixed to wrists and ankles. No one was speaking to her aside from the normal “stop moving” comment and for advantageous reasons as she heard only the noise of the changes of the road beneath of her and felt the chill of the steel against her exposed back in the stripped out van, absent of comfort, absent of warmth. This space was meant as nothing more than a hollow transport with an unknown destination where few returned and none that did were returned in a condition of normalcy. Not one knew how to cope with the reality of what had been done to them—in various stages of terror and infliction of maltreatment—to the point that freedom provided nothing but a gilded cage to further lose touch with reality.

                Scully was finding herself more and more regretful of studying the recovery documentation of the survivors as she felt herself succumbing to the heaviness of the drugs in her system, her mind still racing over the endless options that could’ve been implemented…none of which left her with a warm and fuzzy feeling inside.

                It was too quiet and the total darkness added to the confusion that the flashes of oblivion were inflicting on her as she tried, with every remaining fiber, to utilize the only senses left to at least form a semblance of awareness. She could smell everything from rain that had soaked her through, motor oil, rope, melted plastic, burnt hair, gasoline, and the heavy, musky odor of men covered in sweat in varying proximities, one of which was too close for her liking. She felt raw, exposed, and more than a little nauseous as she felt the drinks swirling in her belly, wanting to come back up. She had been powerless before but at least with a psychotic asshole like Donnie Pfaster, she still had the ability to see exactly what was in front of her and know what was coming. She was truly helpless in spite of knowing that the camera at her chest was most likely still rolling as she could hear Mulder’s own level of panic in her earbud, frantic from the control room, the words not necessarily making sense even though they were all meant for her.

                “Scully, I’m not giving up,” The words finally made sense and sent an ache down her spine as she fought the chills, the tears falling from behind the hood as she felt every word collide as though he were there to touch her personally. “I promise I’m going to find you.”

                Scully knew that sound in her ear meant so much more than an affirmation as the not quite silent sobs were in her ear, his emotions splayed open, the spotlight lit and aimed.

“Where does he keep finding all of these pretty little out of towners?” The voice came from the left of Scully, closest to her knees, and had a deep, almost bass-baritone quality that belonged to a heavy smoker. “All dolled up in a fancy dress in a big city.”

                The stillness was accompanied by Scully’s heightened awareness of her limbs as the slightest, invasive touch against her nylons had her stifling a considerable cry as the van throttled over a second set of bumps in the road. Scully half lifted off of the steel and dropped back, awkwardly banging both of her heels against the door in the process, the heavy dress weighing her down in an instant. There was flood water in the corrugation of the steel underneath of her from the grooves in the pavement, the dips in the road, and the sections of streets that lacked drainage as the van seemed to be driving aimlessly around the city, in areas with little to no traffic to compete with. The water splashed into the air and across her exposed skin, giving the already pushy set of hands the opportunity to unnecessarily gather along the slit up the side of the dress, causing a considerable run in the already fragile material.

                It was enough for Scully as she finally let out a disgusted groan and tried to pull her legs away from his directionality.

                “You know the god damn rules, stop fucking touching her or I’ll be making sure you don’t make it back from this delivery,” It was the driver speaking as the breaks started to squeal and the van came to an unexpected stop. “It’s bad enough one of you bruised up her face and I have to explain to the boss exactly what happened.”

                “She’s going to piss off the boss anyway with this attitude if she keeps it going,” Scully definitely was familiar with that bass-baritone voice as the man that she had bitten, as his familiar grip gathered her at the shoulders, sitting her up in the back of the van. “Bite the boss and he just might knock all of those pretty teeth out…nobody but the trash will be willing to put a bid in on a woman with all of her teeth missing.”

                The earbud had been quiet since the last two or three sets of heavier bumps in the road and Mulder’s comforting, needed voice had been replaced with a dulled white noise signaling that the connection had been lost. Scully knew that she was either out of range entirely or was underground as the two men closest to Scully started to pull her toward the edge of the van’s open doorway. She remained stoic as the traces of dimmed light were dull through the hood, her feet awkwardly directed forward until they touched the cement, splashing into six inches of standing water. They didn’t stay there long as the stronger of the two men gathered her over his shoulder awkwardly carrying her across the flooded cement, the echoing and splashing of each step disorienting Scully to the point that she didn’t know what direction that they were going aside from knowing that they were, indeed, underground in a garage of some kind. It was too quiet to be a crowded space as their keys jingled in succession, the sound reverberating off of the walls and bouncing back at her in repetition.

                “Stop moving or I’ll tighten your zipties then dose you again so you’ll be completely unconscious for your presentation to the boss,” His size was formidable, taller than Mulder as Scully had determined just from behind tossed across his shoulder, and his voice had her half shaking as he applied pressure to the back of her knees, uncomfortably contorting her until she let out a solitary cry. “You shouldn’t even be this conscious with what I gave you to start with.”

                “Fuck, you’re hurting me,” Scully was half lying as the white noise was starting to subside in her ear, as it started to come in waves as they entered a small elevator meant only for freight. “Please, stop it.”

                “Put her down, cut the zipties off of her ankles and keep the hood on…if she so much as makes a move then take the prod to the center of her back. She won’t be so apt to move,” The driver’s familiar voice had her off kilter and concerned over the mention of a ‘prod’ or what it could entail. “The two of you have begun to wear on my last nerve and it shouldn’t take three of us to carry one, petite female upstairs.”

                “You tell that to my testicles and Big Zeke’s wrist, Aaron,” The third, less intensely voiced man helped the larger man, known by Zeke, to lower Scully to the floor of the elevator. “She’s a lot feistier than the boss indicated she’d be—and I’m a little pissed that I didn’t get told to protect myself from her errant kneecaps.”

                “Occupational hazards happen, you punk bitch…suck it up and don’t be such a baby, Nathan,” Aaron was less than enthused as the zipties around Scully’s ankles were cut and he took a step closer to her, pressing a hand to her back to keep her absolutely still against the back of the elevator. “You’re too pretty to have your lip bloodied up in the first ten minutes so don’t give me a reason to do it. I hit a lot harder than Zeke and you won’t be so pretty for a while if I have to.”

                Scully didn’t have much choice but comply as the weakened sedative running through her had her just weak enough to make basic motor functions less than stellar on top of not being able to see anything. Her ankles throbbed and wrists were starting to ache behind her back, the reality of her immobility setting in as Zeke’s grip along the curve of her elbow reminded her of just how powerless she really was. Scully wasn’t giving up but she had to bide her time, wait for the right moment to push the envelope, and strike back. She knew that Mulder was back at the command unit, wracking his brain and forcing his way through every limit to find a way to her and she was going to do everything to show him exactly where she was—even if it meant collecting a few more wounds along the way to do so. Scully felt it in her core that they expected her to allow the manhandling to proceed without so much as a little whimper but she was far from meek or complacent about being sold like a prize horse.

                Be a fucking bulldozer, Dana, ruin every little plan that these assholes have laid out. Scully gritted her teeth as she felt Zeke hurrying her forward with the opening of the elevator doors.

                They shoved her into the hallway and the smell of unfinished drywall, copious amounts of dust, plastic, metal, and burnt hair hit her nostrils worse than it had in the van. Something wasn’t right as the underlying odor of blood was hidden beneath a vinegar and baking soda concoction that had Scully gagging almost immediately as they turned the corner. It wasn’t death but it was close enough as the odor of bodily fluids rose above the heavily perfumed cleaning products that had been poured across the flooring, then left to air dry. Scully had been brought to a staging and containment area and the soggy tap of her heels against the slick, unfinished flooring was louder than the sound made by the boots worn by her captors. Scully could see the rapid blinking of poor hallway lighting through the hood and her breath began to hasten as they turned another corner, the air only growing a little staler with every step they took.

                They stopped in front of a set of metal finished double doors, the patina covered in a bronzed, elevated patterning that only added to the weight of the heavy oak base beneath. It was almost a sunburst but wasn’t quite that cheesy as Nathan’s hands were against the door, his thumbs sliding into the grooves of the finish before pushing the handle down until the mechanism clicked free. They pushed them open, the hinges squeaking until the opening would accommodate all of them. Scully teetered in her heels and had to be jolted forward by way of Zeke’s less than forgiving grip as he slid his thumb higher against her arm, digging against her bicep until her entire arm throbbed all the way to the wrist where her circulation had begun to become cut off. She couldn’t help but fight against the squeeze, tilting her arms back until she had created a bigger gap between her back and Zeke’s palpable mit.

                “If you three blame the weather for taking this long to get here, I’ll bury a bullet in each one of your temples,” Scully started to shake hear head beneath the hood as the voice immediately had her frightened and angry at the same time, strictly based on the familiarity of it. “She’s soaked through, ruined her nylons, and, let me guess, already has bruises yet to be revealed to me that I have to sell to a buyer?”

                “The crafty minx kicked Nathan in the junk more than once and bit Zeke…Zeke backhanded her for her troubles,” Aaron was calmly, almost casually explaining it as Scully was close to hyperventilating while Zeke did his best to keep his clenched fingers around her arm.

“Cabot, you Mother fucking, son of a bitch,” Scully couldn’t hold it in anymore as she felt his hand against her neck, nearing the drawstring of the hood, growling at him through her teeth.

                The earbud had finally stopped with the white noise as Mulder’s voice came back and thudded in her ear with nearly as much shock as there was vitriol as he stepped directly in front of the pin lens. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…Somebody needs to go pull Hendricks from the intel briefing and tell him that we have a serious problem.”

                Cabot’s eyebrow elevated as he stood in front of Scully in her halfway weakened state, eyeing her up as a smile formed across his face like a child that had just taken the entire jar of cookies off of the counter. He licked his lips and gave an affirming nod to Zeke, who released Scully’s arm without hesitating for more than a moment, allowing her arms to drop against her back. He circled her, keeping his fingers weakly gliding across her skin, avoiding the material of the hood as he lingered behind her, giving the ties a little tug to assure that they were firmly in place. He was toying with her as his free hand found the bare spot on her back, just below the closure of her halter, bouncing between her shoulder blades until he could hear the frustration in her breathing patterns. Scully’s shoulders involuntarily twitched under his touch as he came back around to the front of her and inhaled sharply, purposely making it as loud as he could until he could see every hair standing on end down the back of her neck and along her arms. He was purposely making her uncomfortable and her self-control was failing her as every defense mechanism was critically and perilously making her less willing to care about a filter.

                Scully knew that her reprieve from the discomfort would be short lived as Cabot tightened his fingers around her neck, sneered at her through the hood, and manhandled her until she was up against a metal and unfinished rebar pillar, trapping her there.

                “I knew that dress looked a lot more familiar than the one that I picked out for a sweet, misguided, lonely little tourist I found in a bar four nights ago drowning her sorrows in way too many shots of tequila,” Cabot untied the drawstring on the hood, purposely taking his time as he pushed up against her, blocking the shot from the camera in the process and finagling an unpleasant groan from her in the process. “I had almost forgotten all about it until that voice mixed so perfectly with the smell of that perfume that you’re wearing when it all came back like a rush of blood to the extremities—and to think, you weren’t supposed to happen tonight.”

                “Jesus Christ,” Mulder’s voice was teetering on the edge of shaking as the mere idea of a SWAT team member orchestrating every second of this attack had him livid along with her. “Scully, I am doing everything I can to get you out of there. I know you want to provoke him but please don’t…I can’t face what he might do.”

                Cabot finally pulled the hood off completely, revealing the already blued bruising where Zeke had hit Scully and watched as her eyes narrowed at him, burning holes through him immediately while he gestured in Nathan and Zeke’s direction. “Even though these two morons couldn’t decipher the right dress from the wrong dress with photographs in their fucking hands, maybe I should still be thanking them for being incapable of differentiating your pretty purple dress from the correct purple dress…after all, I’ve already pictured your face on that naïve tourist at least three times in the last four days, Agent Scully.”

                “Boss, we said we were sorry…the photos got wet and we couldn’t figure out the material it was made out of. She was wearing the closest match,” Nathan was gawking just enough to irritate Cabot as he attempted to rationalize the catastrophic problem that resulted in an FBI Agent being taken instead of an incapable tourist.

                “I didn’t ask for your input, Nathan,” Cabot was amused but displeased by the interruption as he tilted his head away from Scully for a moment to directly address him. “Didn’t I just say that I was going to thank you for being an idiot? Now either get the fuck out or shut the fuck up while Agent Scully and I have a little discussion about how long I’ve been imagining this exact moment.”

                “You sick fuck,” Scully’s mascara and eyeliner was still all down her face, the sweat, rain, and the tears had done a number on the not quite waterproof makeup as she winced at him, visibly disgusted by the mental picture that he had just inflicted. “You are a piece of work, Cabot…truly.”

                “Oh, my mistake, you only like being stared at by one man, isn’t that right?” Cabot was baiting her as he looked down at her like a true predator, maintaining that invasion of her space as he crushed the front of the dress with his knee as he tilted her chin up with the space between his index and thumb. “You had an entire room of tongues wagging over you in this dress—the way you move, the way you look, the way you smell, it intoxicates every single one of them—but your eyes always go drifting, like clockwork, back to one, unbelievable son of a bitch who probably didn’t even have to work for it. He’s listening to this right now, isn’t he?”

                 “You’re crazy, Thomas, and you’re not going to get away with this,” Scully knew exactly who he was referring to and why but she didn’t want to grace him with a real answer as he applied pressure to her thighs with his knee cap until she bit down hard on her tongue, the pain traveling up to her tailbone in a ricochet pattern. “Fucking bastard!”

                “Scully, he’s saying anything to get you to weaken, don’t let him do it,” Mulder could hear it in her voice and knew his own was betraying him as it shook with pure, bottled fury.

                “Tell me how many desk drawers have rattled open because of you, Scully…how many times have you left your heel indents in his desk?” Cabot had his mouth far too close to Scully’s ear, knowing exactly which one had the microphone wired into the earbud, his tone grinding on her as the metal was digging into her arms. “Or do you just decide to tease him all fucking day and wait until the garage at the FBI building has finally begun to empty—barely make it into a car?”

                “Fuck you,” Scully was a little shocked that he hadn’t said his name but the more graphic he got, the less her composure held as she felt her eyes filling with tears.

                “Surely you don’t think you have a choice in that matter?” Cabot’s Cheshire cat grin was bordering on menacing as he stayed looking at her painfully icy stare until he shattered it by putting more pressure against her windpipe. “You’re not being very nice, Agent Scully, and I’ve been more than kind to you even though you abused my delivery men.”

                Scully knew that Mulder could hear every word of this and psyche was hanging by a thread as an imagined sex life was being broadcast to an entire room full of investigators, making her objectification even more intense than it had been. “I owe you nothing, Cabot…least of all would be kindness. You’re nothing more than a spineless, pathetic asshole and I can’t wait to see the look on your face when they bust in here to put a stop to all of this.”

                “How long did it take him to sweet talk his way into those well put together ensembles you like to wear back at the FBI? Is it why you were both demoted to this shit show of a case?” Cabot had his thumb angled along Scully’s chin, aggressively tugging it down until her lips had parted. “I bet you got caught with your skirt hiked high enough that it took little imagination to know exactly what you were doing.”

                “How do women fall for this pompous act you put on?” Scully was scrambling for any excuse to change the subject as the mental infliction of pain was equivalent to the one searing down her arms. “You’re not at all charismatic or captivating—just another macho, ego-driven Neanderthal.”  

                “If you’re going to play that game with me, maybe I should just go right to the source about what you sound like when your hair is being pulled, Agent Scully,” Cabot went straight for the jugular saying every syllable with a clear intent as he aimed his mouth toward her ear and drove his hip against her, wheedling the sweat as she held back the noise. “Come on, Agent Mulder, how loud does she moan your name when you find that sweet, agonizing spot?”

                “This must be little dick syndrome manifesting in one hell of a way, Cabot,” Scully was provoking him now, as she choked back every tear. “I’d wiggle my pinky if you needed that visual demonstration but unfortunately, you still have my hands restrained behind my back.”

                Cabot still had that Devil’s grin plastered on his lips as Scully’s bold statement seemed to have no effect on him, at first glance, while Scully’s eyes stayed steadily on him. He audibly exhaled before jerking his dominant right hand back from her neck to pull her away from the metal post in the process as he spun her around by the elbows. He was close to knocking her legs out from under her as he sent her stumbling toward a pure, white, unadorned wall with thick sheets of plastic hanging on both sides, leaving only a seven foot gap of untouched space. Scully couldn’t stop the impact from happening as her already bruised cheek met drywall, sending a plume of dust into the air and into her mouth at the same time, instantly making her verging on incapable of breathing. Cabot wasn’t done exerting his dominance over her as he took the modified prod from Nathan’s already outstretched hand when he reached back for it, giving her no time to move as he barely touched Scully between her shoulder blades with the modified, electric switch at the tip of it.

                The scream that left her mouth was unreal as she dropped to her knees and felt every inch of her spine start to sizzle and jolt like it was ripping out of her in slow, tormenting bits starting at the top. Scully could no longer hear the sound of her own cries as her ears were ringing and her forehead tapped against the drywall, the sweat pouring out of her like a sieve. Cabot finally relented with the electrical instrument and watched the remaining collapse as her fingers went limp at her back, the electrical surge still tapping into her nervous system as her eyes convulsed before closing. Scully inhaled hard and rocked forward, allowing the throbbing heat of her cheek to melt into the coolness of the wall while she pulled herself back from falling apart.

                “Dammit, Scully, you have to give me a sign you’re still with me, here,” Mulder’s voice broke apart the ringing noise, restoring the chaos as Scully’s eyes widened and she felt Cabot already yanking her to her feet.

                Cabot’s fingers were grazing the space between Scully’s shoulders, disrupting already tender skin that he had clearly burned to the point that she was whimpering through her words. “Mulder, please, find this Mother fucker. I can’t—“

                “I’ve had just about enough of not being able to hear every delicious moment of Agent Mulder’s anger over torturing his precious fucktoy,” Cabot slid the earbud out of Scully’s ear and put it into his own before snapping his fingers in the direction of the three looky-loos who hadn’t left the room. “Agent Scully can’t talk right now, she’s about to get very uncomfortable thanks to that very smart mouth of hers.”

                “What did you do to her?” Mulder’s tone was less forgiving with Cabot, the uncorked fire practically searing through the telecom lines with every word. “Cabot, you son of a bitch, I will end you if you hurt her.”

                Cabot wetted his lips and rolled his eyes at the verbal display of Mulder’s protectiveness as he wrapped his right arm around Scully’s midsection, gripping the material of the dress along her abdominals, breathing heavily in her ear. “Ahhh…desperate to be her White Knight, Agent Mulder, why don’t you go ask our little buddy Jacob about how to cope since listening to this…is definitely going to hurt.”

Notes:

Unknown Quote

I hope that the Regency Towers can forgive me for what I have done

 

*Monika, I don't think I could've gotten through any of this without your ear and input -- thank you for being the keeper of sanity and a listener every time I desperately needed it*

Chapter 5: Secreta Secretorum

Summary:

(Post Drive for clerical reasons only)

Scully’s captor continues to torment Mulder while physically diminishing her ability to fight back—all while pushing Hendricks to reveal his secret that has been carefully kept for eighteen months.

Notes:

Chapter title translates to “Secret of Secrets” in Latin

Noting, as always, that some of these chapters are shorter than others -- the subject matter, while intense, was purposely set up not to be overwhelming.

Disclaimer: Agent Scully, Agent Mulder, and Assistant Director Skinner belong respectively to Chris Carter, FOX Productions, and TenThirteen Productions. All other characters are original and any likeness or named similarities to any real-life persons are purely coincidental (unless, well, you’ve been told, then you should’ve expected such things and shouldn’t get upset over anything that happens to them, respectively)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

 

No one ever told me

That grief felt so like fear.

-CS Lewis

 

Central Command Unit

 

                The image on the screen had been jarred and Scully was no longer stationery as Mulder could only imagine exactly what Cabot was doing to her after hearing the screaming, the whimper that followed, along with the fluttered gasp as she slid to the floor. He was helpless as he paced, knocked over a full cup of coffee, and chewed his bottom lip until it bled down his chin. Scully had been so strong but it was getting to him to have to hear her behind Cabot’s unrelenting verbal tormenting of him. He was off balance while he pensively stared at the screen while Skinner was in the background with two intelligence specialists, over-analyzing a screengrab of the highlighted tattoo across Zeke’s arm just above his wrist. Hendricks hadn’t moved from his spot as he kept his hand pressed to his ear, carefully listening along on the earbud, the silence from him was not out of confusion or worry but for his own hesitation and knowledge as he wanted to pick apart every little detail as he glanced at Mulder, who was nearing the last of his patience. No one was blaming Mulder in the slightest for his actions and not a word of the dialogue would be leaving the room as the mental torture of hearing his partner experience every second alone was more than enough—it didn’t need to be dragged out verbatim in a report for all to see.

                “Ahhh…desperate to be her White Knight, Agent Mulder, why don’t you go ask our little buddy Jacob about how to cope since listening to this…is definitely going to hurt,” Cabot’s words had Mulder gripping the edge of a table and his head slowly turning to deliver one hell of a glare to Hendricks.

                Mulder was thoroughly overwhelmed as he could hear Scully struggling in the background again while his eyes were searing a hole through the center of Hendricks’s face, dumbstruck by the comment. “What in the fuck is he talking about? Hendricks…”

                “Tick…tock…tick…tock…I’m losing patience over here almost as much as the lovely thing in this sequined dress is. Wow, Scully really doesn’t like to be touched, does she, Mulder?” Cabot’s question had Mulder’s eyes redirecting back toward the monitor where Scully was clearly positioned in a chair, held firmly in place and straddled, which had Mulder ready to take someone’s head off. “Has Jacob decided to go mute or is he just too embarrassed to let you in on his dirty, little secret?”

                “The more you hurt her, the less I am going to listen to your bullshit, Cabot,” Mulder had the backside of a folding chair white knuckled as he held on, watching Cabot’s hand motions along the front of the dress, clearly tugging at the camera. “She isn’t going to play your game and the second you try to push—I pity you. What she doesn’t end up decimating on you, I will.”

                “Stop trying to redirect this conversation to your very prepossessing, well-kept secret, Mulder…we’re talking about our buddy, Training Manager Jacob Hendricks, and his skeletons that he loves to hide in closets,” Cabot’s voice was barely carrying over the top of muffled, labored cry from Scully. “I bet that really hurts…might even leave a mark.”

                “Cabot, don’t do this,” Hendricks had finally had enough of the games as he interrupted, his voice bordering on callous, necessarily calculated as he attempted to negotiate with him. “The more that you keep injuring a Federal Agent, the more years you add to a sentence that you will never, ever escape…just stop all of this, tell us where you are and you might get consecutive life sentences instead of the lethal injection.”

                “You really are insane, aren’t you?” Skinner stepped in and narrowed his eyes at Hendricks, the frustration mounting as he could see the emotions beginning to emerge more heavily on Mulder’s face. “Cabot obviously has a personal vendetta against you and the sooner you divulge it, the better it’ll be for everyone in this room trying to save Agent Scully’s life.”

                Hendricks was assiduously exhausted, his eyes on the monitor as Cabot’s unremarkable, cocky mug was slipping in and out of the frame as his fingers were pulling the camera from the layers of Scully’s dress. “Just over eighteen months ago I was on assignment getting ready for my third undercover with my partner, who was set up similarly to Agent Scully. I was in a control booth, monitoring her and watched as she was taken, assaulted, and disappeared into the city.”

                “Leaving the most important detail out, Jacob? Really? This is what you’ve resorted to?” Cabot was angry and Scully was paying for it as her cries were loud through the earpiece, practically bringing Mulder to his knees as he tried to hold back a ripple of tears. “Tell the truth, Jacob.”

                Mulder’s voice was cracking as he forced Hendricks into making eye contact, trapping him against the stacks of security monitors. “It has nothing to do with Cabot anymore. Scully is paying the price for wasting time, hiding away the details of this entire investigation, and I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t find her before it’s too late…don’t you understand that?”

                “She was my fiancée, God dammit!” Hendricks’s rough exterior was sloughing off like a second skin as he closed his eyes, exhaling as the sounds of agony in the earbud were too much to take as his hands shook and knees went weak at the recollection. “Madelyn never made it out and I have spent every moment of the last eighteen months trying to find her or at least give some sort of semblance of meaning to the sacrifice she made by doing what she did. I’ve lived with that nightmare for every second since I watched her camera go dark…”

                “Tell them the best part, pal…tell them all about how you broke the rules being with her and how you swooped in, like the macho-man that you’ve always been and made her not see anyone else in the room,” Cabot freed the camera from the dress and aimed it at a barely conscious Scully as she shook her head, her tears silently sliding down her cheeks while Zeke stood behind her, holding her by the shoulders. “Agent Mulder, I hope you’re watching.”

                “Please, stop hurting her, Cabot, before there’s no turning back,” Mulder wouldn’t have been able to look away even if he had tried as Cabot’s hands had already gathered the material of her halter, ripping the material in shreds until Scully’s bra was brightly peeking out from beneath. “Cabot, stop!”

                Cabot was not quite to full laughter as his fingers lingered across Scully’s reddened, nearly bruised skin as Scully was writhing away from him while he approached a line that was very nearing groping her. “I am going to have more than a little fun with this, a lot more than I did with Jacob’s fiancée…but you don’t get to watch, Mulder.”

                Mulder had no time to even respond as the earbud made a loud popping sound followed by the monitor flipping unceremoniously to snow as the feed had been aggressively cut. He was in the dark and Scully was in the unapologetic clutches of evil, with dignity slipping away. Time wasn’t running out—it had sunk from under them like quicksand.

 

 

3000 block of Bel Air Drive

 

                Scully wanted to jump out of her own body as she watched Cabot crush the earbud with the heel of his shoe, the little pieces breaking apart under his sliding weight while he pulled the connection wires free from the camera. He was cutting away her last connection to Mulder and everything went numb for a moment as his possessed smile had her prisoner in more ways than one. Her skin was abraded and throbbed along her neck, down her chest, and along her arms that had been tingling as the circulation was failing to move to her fingers. Aaron and Nathan had left the space, leaving Zeke to be the sole assistant in keeping Scully restrained in her seat, his hands gathered along her collarbone, pushing down to keep her back planted against the back of the chair, his attention straight forward like a statue.

                He was nothing more than a necessary tool that felt nothing in the endeavor like a well-trained dog.

                Cabot leaned against Scully, his right hand gathering the dress at her knees, tugging it until he could feel the hole and run filled remnants of her nylons. “You’ve gotten awfully quiet—don’t tell me you’re already broken.”

                “It takes a lot more than a pathetic, jealousy driven lunatic like yourself to fracture me and I intend on making this very difficult for you,” Scully’s spirit hadn’t completely wavered as she dodged his mouth and kept both knees firmly together, that intensity burning behind her eyes as she kept her stare locked on him. “I will never give up…on myself or on Mulder.”

                “Will you be able to look at yourself in a mirror after all of this?” Cabot’s right index was along her outer thigh, dragging down toward her knee until the run had grown to accommodate half of his fist. “Do you think Mulder will be able to look at you the same or will he be constantly picturing another man’s hands all over you? Taking from you what he’s so obviously wanted for so long?”

                The mere feel of his sweaty, overly warm palm against her leg had her skin crawling as she turned her head toward the clear plastic as it swayed in the draftiness of the expansive space they were in, the subtle glow of the strip off in the distance blurry through the opaque. “You are so preoccupied with thinking that you could possibly be in my head but you don’t know the first thing about me or the inner workings of my psyche. Keep thinking that you do.”

                “The more you dodge my questions, the less that captivating face is going to protect you from what you’ve got coming to you,” Cabot had a certain amount of aggression in his voice to match his actions, the ripping of dress layers had Scully’s head snapping back in his direction, her lower body doing anything she could to evade his roaming hand as it climbed higher on her thigh. “How long did you make him wait, Scully? Did you tease him like you’re teasing me now?”

                “You really are a bastard, Cabot,” Scully would’ve given anything for Zeke to let go of her shoulders as he clenched his fingers a little deeper against her shoulders, giving Cabot an even better angle at ripping the sequined layer of the dress, sending the last of her filter sailing out a window as she let him have it verbally. “Are you that weak that you need help holding me down, Cabot? Huh? Is it that bad that you need an assistant to violate me?”

                Scully was certain that she had done something incredibly brave and stupid in equal measure as Cabot snapped his fingers at Zeke, who simply backed away from the chair after removing his hands from Scully’s shoulders. Scully had no real time to react to the change after challenging him as he gave the chair a generous shove until it hit the wall with a resounding thud that nearly sent her sliding off of the seat. Scully couldn’t help but hope for nothing more than Mulder to come bursting through the door, put an end to this horror show, but she knew that the timing was not on her side as she squirmed underneath of Cabot while she became acutely aware of the pressure against her. Her heart was beating furiously up into her throat as the cold air was reminding her of how far up Cabot had hiked her dress, the capacity for taking every bit of her amour propre away nearing a point of no return as his left hand slipped across her throat and squeezed.

                “Maybe I won’t actually sell or give you away to anyone…I might just keep you chained until you’ve outgrown your usefulness. Remind you of how close you came to getting away. How close to came to running back to him,” Cabot was taking delight in watching Scully’s face turn red, her struggle for air as he put pressure on her windpipe, plucking her nylon free from the garter, snapping it against her skin in the process. “Not how you pictured tonight, is it?”

                Scully’s eyes diverted toward the plastic again, straining against his grip as he tried to turn her entire face toward him along with sucking labored breaths through her teeth. “You’re a fucking monster and you better hope I don’t gain any range of motion—I will kick you so hard that your testicles won’t function normally ever again.”

                “Boss, I couldn’t keep her from walking out here,” Aaron’s voice brought Cabot completely off balance as his head snapped to the left where a woman stood with long, dark hair and brown eyes with soft yet undeniably exhausted features, her clothes tight and revealing as though she had no part in picking them out.

                The distraction was everything Scully needed as she tilted her head back and forced her knee up until it connected with his crotch with a thunderous snap that left him breathless. He started to tumble backward as she delivered a solid headbutt to the center of his forehead, bloodying the spot and nearly rendering herself useless in the process. Scully knew that running would be next to useless but she made herself a promise that she wouldn’t allow her body to be taken, not like this, and even as she felt Zeke’s rather large paw wrap around her forearm and pull her to her feet, she felt vindication as she watched Cabot cradling his injured pride on the floor in front of her. She knew, in spite of the decisive action she had just made, that she had also awakened a beast within him that he hadn’t even begun to show to her yet.

                “I will fucking…kill you,” Cabot hadn’t fully recovered but he regained his footing, grabbed her by her hair and began pulling her toward the dangling plastic, aggressively moving it out of the way to reveal a partially open sliding door that led to the balcony, where the rain still poured. “Do you think this is a fucking game, Agent Scully?”

                The rain was stinging Scully’s face and chest where the dress had been ripped away as Cabot shoved her against the railing, revealing just how far up they were as he held her head down until she was awkwardly bent across the rail. “I told you that I would kick you…and I am never going to let you take my body, not as long as there is air left in my lungs, you fucking bastard.”

                “Thomas, you know she’s going to keep fighting—let me take her and soften her up before you go breaking your new toy,” the woman’s voice was soft, alluring even, and she knew exactly what to say as she came up behind Cabot and leaned against his back, looking up at him from his left hand side. “She’s freezing…let me warm her up and give her something to make her more manageable?”

                Scully was horrified as the words were reverberant in her ears, stinging at the last of her defenses as she searched the skyline toward the city lights, Cabot’s voice joining the unidentified woman’s as he loosened his hold on the back of her neck. “She has to pay for pain she just inflicted on my testicles—but take her before I throw her twenty-eight floors to a rather messy death.”

                There was an undeniable fear deep in Scully’s gut as the woman gathered her hand around the space above her wrists, leading her away from the railing toward another set of sliding doors as the rain slapped against them, her voice low and comforting. “Please don’t struggle, I don’t want to have to put anything in your system if I can avoid it.”

                “Are you one of them?” Scully was weary as her legs were starting to show every sign of fatigue while the woman led her up a set of circular stairs, the draft even worse as they ascended toward a third floor.

                “No,” She purposely shook the shackles around her wrists until they rattled the lead between them and caught Scully’s attention before she helped her onto a dry, less than perfect mattress in the corner. “I’m one of you—in more ways than I’d like to admit.”

                Scully looked up at her as the zip ties dug into her wrists, nearly making her bleed as she leaned against the wall, heaving a heavy, resigned sigh. “Who are you?”

                She knelt, wiping away the grime, makeup, and sweat along Scully’s forehead and cheeks with a damp rag from the tattered pockets of her shirt, glancing over her shoulder to make sure that no one was watching. “Madelyn Bailey…Jacob Hendricks’s fiancée.”

Notes:

Quote by:
CS Lewis

This journey, is long, but the juice is worth the squeeze.

Chapter 6: It was worth the risk

Summary:

(Post Drive for clerical reasons only)

Scully looks for any way to escape her high rise prison while Mulder continues his search as Las Vegas’s police department lends a hand to the investigation—bridging the gap that could lead to their best chance of finding Scully in nearly twelve hours.

Notes:

Disclaimer: Agent Scully, Agent Mulder, and Assistant Director Skinner belong respectively to Chris Carter, FOX Productions, and TenThirteen Productions. All other characters are original and any likeness or named similarities to any real-life persons are purely coincidental (unless, well, you’ve been told, then you should’ve expected such things and shouldn’t get upset over anything that happens to them, respectively)

Wounded

A bruise is tender
But it does not last,
It leaves me as
I always was.

But a would I take
Much more to heart,
For a scar will always
Leave it’s mark.

And if you should ask me
Which you are,
My answer is—
You are a scar.

-Lang Leav

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Our greatest glory is

Not in never falling,

But in rising every time

We fall.

-Confucius

 

 

6:30 AM

3000 block of Bel Air Drive

 

                Scully had barely slept but the necessity for rest was undeniable and had her halfway to sick as Madelyn’s words were still whirling around in her brain. She was scared to close her eyes but the assurance that one of them would stay awake gave her the last breath of reaffirmation that she needed to give in to sleep. The dress had become caked in drywall dust as it dried and looked like a crime scene in itself as she stayed in a halfway upright position, her face underneath of the smallish windows that faced the North Eastern edge of the strip. The sun was flooding in and bouncing off of the starkly white walls, bringing in the light to the previously dimmed space that Scully hadn’t even glanced around at, nor been able to properly fathom, the night before. She stirred as the sound of feminine whispering started to increase in volume and numbers, almost surrounding her, startling her within moments as Madelyn’s hand touched her shoulder.

                “It’s ok, it’s just me, it’s just me,” Madelyn tried to keep her from accidentally screaming with a well-placed hand across her mouth. “Don’t scream…they’re still asleep.”

                Scully looked around at the half dozen, equally battered faces of women varying in age, height, build, race, and background as she nodded until Madelyn removed her hand, the shock setting in as their faces looked all too familiar to her. “I recognize all of you…you’re part of the list of the missing women. Some of you have been gone a long time.”

                “Some of them have been here anywhere from six weeks to a year—purchased and sold back to Cabot,” Madelyn was looking at one of the women who had fresh, deep bruising across her face in a zigzag pattern that led all the way down her neck. “Emmy fought the man that bought her and he beat her, demanded that Cabot buy her back so he did…she took another beating when she got here.”

                “What can she do for us? She’s just as stuck here as we are?” Emmy’s words were muddled, slurring together, the blood still fresh along the side of her mouth. “Look at her, she’s been half beaten and zip tied…”

                “About that,” Scully had been rubbing her wrists along the wall during the night and had discovered an exposed, somewhat jagged nail during the night that had begun to weaken the plastic wrapped around her wrists. “I’ve almost got them off and my ankles have been free since I got here…I don’t know how easy this is going to be but I’m not going to stop until I get justice for all of you.”

                “You really are going to be a problem for Cabot, after all,” Madelyn smiled and looked behind her back at the zip ties as they were still half hooked against the nail, the material hanging by a thread. “Doesn’t know what he’s gotten into by snatching you.”

                “My partner knew and still does. I’ve been holding onto that fact since the moment I felt that needle pinch into my skin,” Scully gritted her teeth and gave the plastic one last pull until it finally gave, snapping against her skin just enough to sting heavily against the already tender flesh just below the half torched portion from the night before. “Jesus…Christ…getting those off felt terrible and amazing all at the same time.”

                Scully’s wrists were heavily bruised and blistered as her hands shook in her lap while she slid forward, peering over the edge of the third floor, unfinished balcony through the gaps in the plastic. It was appallingly silent aside from distant snoring and the sounds of the wind howling through improperly shut sliding doors. She bit her lip, concentrating heavily while her eyes hovered over the women in front of her that displayed their stories like battle wounds, each one in varying stages of healing, each one a shell of their former selves. She ached from the top of her head to the tips of her toes as she reached for the window sill and pulled herself until she was standing, eyes searching the rooftop, the bitter, white light hitting her as daybreak had brought the sun with it—a pause in the storm.

                “What are you doing?” Madelyn watched her as she squinted in the window, wiping the dusty mess away from the pane until there was no more blur outside.

                Scully turned her head toward Madelyn while her fingers pressed against the glass, the headache setting in from the bright light outside. “Where does that door go?”

                “Watch for movement, please,” Madelyn stood and made eye contact with Emmy, who in turn nodded, the whispering among them soft as she looked out the window with Scully. “Fire escape—stairwell. I’ve seen Zeke use it when the elevators stop working. Why do you ask?”

                “None of them have restraints, that is the last shot to get even one of them out and I have to try to get them to safety…or all of this means nothing,” Scully wrenched on the lock on the window, tugging on the tightly adjusted closure until it started to wiggle free, the air immediately hitting her face as the window slid open an inch. “Damn thing is rusted.”

                “She’s going to get us all killed,” One of more petite, blonde with icy blue eyes was still in an evening dress, her fingers up by her mouth as she chewed on her fingernails, the track marks on her arms visible from the numerous injections.

                Emmy shook her head as she watched the opening in the window grow, the air from outside blowing in with the wind, the smell of the previous night’s rain still permeating heavily. “No, she’s not, she’s giving us a chance…trust her.”

                “Just keep watch and let me focus on getting this window open,” Scully couldn’t help but feel the weakness setting in on her grip, the reminder of just how long the circulation had been cut off to her hands as she slowly increased the opening little by little. “Fuck…me…just keep moving.”

                Madelyn made eye contact with Scully as she got the slider nearly three quarters of the way open, her voice low. “You don’t have any intention of going out that window, do you?”

                “The second that door opens, there’s a solid chance that an alarm is going to go off—I need to make sure that all of them have a fighting chance at getting down the stairs before they wake Cabot and the others,” Scully was looking back at pure frailty that hid a shocking amount of yearning to survive in each woman that clamored to hope behind her. “Someone has to stay behind.”

                It wasn’t Scully being stubborn; it was realism as nothing more than a thin film of plastic separated them visually from being caught by their captors as the window was completely open, wide enough to accommodate hips to slide through. Scully gestured to the shortest of them, helping her into the sill, snagging her shorts in the process and nearly her skin as well as she awkwardly maneuvered her feet through the opening, her eyes squinting as the natural light hit her in the face. It was a moderate, four foot drop to the rooftop as she let her bare feet touch the still wet material, the grittiness touching her heavily bruised and torn skin. Scully and Madelyn guided them, one after the other, out the window until they were the only two that remained in the small, drafty loft. Emmy turned around and made eye contact with both of women on the other side of the window as all six survivors huddled together against the wall and waited for their signal.

                “You’re not coming, are you?” Emmy’s eyes searched her face and saw the white flag waving as her feet touched the rooftop, voice meek and full of sadness.

                “Yes, she is,” Scully shook her head at Madelyn, who had maintained a solid gaze with Emmy, intending on only one of them staying behind. “You can’t do this—he’s been looking for you for so long. Don’t do this.”

                “I can’t let it happen to you what happened to me. I’m not the only one who has someone waiting for me,” Madelyn had a hold of the chain, silently moving it until it the ends tapped together just enough. “I’d never make it with these on.”

                Scully sighed, the plastic behind her rippling in the wind as she couldn’t help but notice the extent of Madelyn’s scars, bruises, and marks, further sending her to guilt by even contemplating her staying behind. “You’re fucking stubborn and I hardly know you.”

                “Ditto, ginger…” Madelyn was Hendricks’s feminine equal in every sense and her spirit hadn’t been broken in the slightest as she narrowed her eyes at the much shorter Scully as she teetered in her heels.

                Scully started to open her mouth to send the girls off toward the fire escape door as a whizzing sound captured her attention before the glass shattered just above her left arm. Her bicep burned as she instinctively brought her arm down, the ripping of flesh catching her completely off guard as the bullet sailed across the surface of her skin, grazing just enough to make her bleed in an instant. Madelyn pulled Scully down, concealing her between her own body and the wall as she gestured for the six to run, her hair blowing in the wind as the second shot echoed through the loft and hit the wall just above their heads. Scully listened for the sound door opening, the emergency alarms ringing loudly above the sounds of feet stomping up the steel steps, nearing the spot where Scully and Madelyn were barely secured against the wall. The third shot had met a mark as it went in through Madelyn’s right shoulder blade before redirecting as it exited, ripping a hole in Scully’s dress along her ribcage as it bounced off and took a little piece of her with it.

                “I’m ok, I’m ok, I’m ok,” Scully held her hand against the spot as Madelyn held her own wound, teeth chattering as the pain tore through her. “Did they make it?”

                Madelyn peeked above the edge of the window sill and watched as the door shut, concealing the last of them and putting an end to the loud, ear piercing alarm that had accompanied the mechanism. “Yeah…but we’re definitely in trouble now.”

                Scully could hear Cabot’s angry voice approaching from just below them as the clearer image of his face through the holes in the plastic came into focus. “It was worth the risk.”

 

 

 

Two Hours Later

Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department

 

                A second storm surge had begun in an almost poetic rhythm as Mulder slid out of the back of an unmarked car, the lights flashing on top as the gray clouds moved overhead like a reminder. He glanced up as the thunder rolled and the ground shook with Mother nature’s wrath, comingling so perfectly with the tumultuousness enveloped within him as his mind was on the redhead in the plum colored dress that had slipped through his fingers. The wind blew across his face, the humidity only mistreating him further as the thick air filled his lungs until he felt like he was drowning while upright. Everything had become soundless and mute as he followed Skinner and Hendricks up the dampened steps toward the Department doors, the Officers already greeting them as they came up. He wasn’t listening to anyone as Hendricks’s mouth was moving beside him, the weakness setting in as he made eye contact with Skinner.

                “You okay?” Skinner had a well-placed hand against Mulder’s shoulder, snapping him back to reality with an almost cruel twist of fate as he stood in front of him.

                “Just losing sight of reason and realizing that she’s out there—somewhere,” Mulder didn’t want to elucidate his worry but his face was lit up like neon as he wiped away the thin layer of rain as he hesitated at the door.

                Skinner nodded, knowing that Mulder had become a mess far faster than he had even dreamed possible. “We’ll find her…I know we will.”

                “It’s just this way,” Hendricks recognized that look on Mulder’s face and had to urge him forward as they went toward the back entrance.

                Mulder, Skinner, and Hendricks came into the back entrance of the Police Department, walking in behind the on duty Lieutenant Noah Gable and Sergeant Ben Jackson, who were both dressed in their full police blues. They were purposely avoiding the crowd as word of a botched SWAT sting traveled through the ranks fairly quickly and no one was in the mood for the questions or invasive stares from the misinformed. They gathered in a small space disconnected from the rest of the bullpen, the stoic expression written on the sleep deprived faces of the men that hadn’t slept as Lieutenant Gable inhaled a deep breath, standing in front of the opposing door. He stared back at Mulder, who easily looked the worst of the three, and nodded gently, the affirmation almost necessarily unspoken as he turned the handle and stood aside to let them pass through the opening first.

                Nothing could have prepared them for what they were about to see.

                “Oh, my God,” Mulder was in shock as he walked into the dimly lit space, the blinds closed, fully ineligible to even understand what he was seeing.

                His eyes scanned the room as he was standing just a few feet from all six women that had escaped their captivity, each one wrapped in an emergency wool blanket with an officer comforting them as best as they could. The sobs were audible and the appearance of every bruise only stood out under the slowly blinking fluorescent lamps. He had seen horrors like these but not since Scully came into his life as he looked at each face, witnessing various stages of grief, of realization that they were no longer in the clutches of the vile and ignoble. They weren’t her and it was cutting him deep as he held his stance, more unsure of himself than he had been in a long time. He wanted to know if she was okay but there was fear underneath—of knowing that the possibility did lay in the chance that she wasn’t okay this time.

                “How long have they been here?” Hendricks broke the silence, carried along by his own hidden maladies as he held back the tears and made eye contact with Emmy as she lifted her head from under the blanket she had been cloaked in. “Has anyone been able to get them to speak?”

                Sergeant Jackson shook his head as he swallowed hard. “I didn’t want anyone asking too many questions until you got here—I know better than to bombard them with too much and they were all adamant about the FBI. They’ve been here for just shy of an hour after an ambulance nearly ran them over on Maryland…it was like they knew all of you’d be in the city.”

                “One of our own is still missing,” Skinner nodded as his eyes drifted over the faces, knowing that it was killing Mulder that Scully wasn’t among them. “There’s a chance they’ve seen her.”

                Emmy’s eyes dropped to the floor, her tears silently falling against the edge of the blanket and her fingers as she held the wool material, shivering into it, her voice soft as she broke the silence. “The redhead did something really stupid to save us but it worked…none of us would’ve made it out if it wouldn’t have been for her. She gave us a chance.”

                “That redhead is my partner. I’ve been looking for her but I need your help to find her if you can help lead me in the right direction,” Mulder knelt in front of Emmy, his eyes imploring her as he regarded her scars, studying her expressions. “What’s your name?”

                “Emmaline Avery, everyone calls me Emmy,” Emmy swallowed hard, glancing at the other girls as they were still overcome with emotion. “Cabot keeps them in a high rise—helpless and defenseless, drugged or beaten, most of the time both. We spend most of our days drugged out of our minds to the point that we don’t even know what’s being done to us.”

                “I understand that, Emmy,” Mulder reached for a cup of coffee and placed it gently between her fingers, the warmth desperately needed as the shaking stopped almost instantly. “You don’t have to relive that…the redhead, her name is Scully and she needs our help.”

                “So does Maddy, we can’t abandon her after everything she’s done for us,” Emmy saying that name caught Hendricks’s attention as he turned his head.

                “What did you just say?” Hendricks furrowed his brow and tilted his head at her, uncertainty written across his face as she looked up at him.

                “Maddy? She was there when I was taken—she took care of all of us and she did her best to protect us from Cabot,” Emmy’s eyes were darting between the two of them, a little bit of panic setting in as Hendricks pulled his wallet out and gathered a small photo from inside.

                Hendricks knelt next to Emmy and turned the photo toward her, the apprehension of his remaining hope evident as his voice cracked. “Does Maddy look like this, Emmy?”

                Emmy took the photo and thumbed over it, a smile forming as she looked at the image like a ghost of a woman that had been wiping her tears for months on end, guaranteeing her an absolution as she nodded and made eye contact with Hendricks. “Doesn’t just look like her…that is her without a doubt.”

                Mulder made eye contact with Hendricks as Emmy handed him the photo back, watching as the realization had hit him that his fiancée was within reach and hadn’t given up, knowing that yearning hadn’t abandoned him. Emmy was waiting for one of them to speak, an anticipatory look on her face as she wiped the last of her solitary tears and straightened out her spine as she glanced at every expression with a certain sense of finality. The sigh left her lips as she placed the cup of coffee on the table next to her and held the blanket close with one hand while giving Mulder’s wrist a gentle, yet precise squeeze to regain his focus.

                “What can I do?” Emmy’s voice had intention behind it as she continued with little effort. “We ran when they started shooting at us and I don’t know if I can live with myself if I don’t find a way to make sure both of them get out of there like we did.”

                Mulder inhaled a deep breath and tried not to imagine Scully being shot or worse as he nodded. “If we give you a map with all of the high rise buildings mapped out, do you think that you can remember where you ran from?”

                Emmy nodded eagerly, swallowing hard. “I can do better than that—I remember how to get there from the service entrance.”

Notes:

Quote by:
Confucius

Beginning poem:
Wounded by Lang Leav

Chapter 7: Resolute

Summary:

(Post Drive for clerical reasons only)

The tide turns and Scully’s bold move to free the victims begins to look like nothing more than a suicide mission, with her stuck on the wrong side of the door—but a new ally emerges as things are looking their bleakest.

Notes:

Disclaimer: Agent Scully, Agent Mulder, and Assistant Director Skinner belong respectively to Chris Carter, FOX Productions, and TenThirteen Productions. All other characters are original and any likeness or named similarities to any real-life persons are purely coincidental (unless, well, you’ve been told, then you should’ve expected such things and shouldn’t get upset over anything that happens to them, respectively)

"It was worth the risk"

Prepare for the time jump...it's here.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

 

The world

Breaks everyone

And afterwards

Many are strong

At the

Broken places.

-Ernest Hemingway

 

 

Just before sunset

3000 block of Bel Air Ave

 

                It was worth the risk.

                Scully kept repeating it over in her head even as a new set of restraints had been affixed to her wrists and ankles, as she had been dragged to an eight foot by ten foot space with a singular opening and a section of windows to taunt her. Every second that followed the release of the six victims was a reminder, of just how close she could dangle toward death without actually crossing that river as Cabot kept her brutally reminded of her loss of control, her loss of power in the exchange. She gritted her teeth and felt the dried blood along her temple pinch her skin and tug on the tiny hairs, reminding her of the decisive pistol whipping that she had taken the last time she had lost all consciousness. She could taste her own blood and feel it starting to stick to her side, down her arm, across the bruised portion of her shoulder where she had fought a second round of sedation.

                “Madelyn?” Scully weakly called out as she realized that she was painfully alone, that the woman who had already paid so dearly for so long was missing.

                “Shhhh, don’t do that Agent Scully…for her sake,” Nathan was in the doorway shrouded by the hanging plastic, his finger up by his mouth as he caught her off guard completely while his other hand was fishing around his pocket. “For your sake…”

                Scully was hugging the window, her knees up by her chest as she shook her head desperately at him, a shakiness buried underneath of her strength. “What do you want?”

                “For you to calm down,” Nathan flashed a Las Vegas Metro badge at her and quickly pocketed it, glancing over his shoulder as he kept his voice down. “Deep cover…please, don’t say anything. I’ve kept him from, well, you know…for every woman since I got here. I’m not stopping now.”

                “This situation just gets more and more fucked up by the second,” Scully winced as she turned her head and straightened out her legs, the short leads around her ankles making a loud dragging sound with every move she made. “Sorry about your testicles…twice over.”

                “Nothing that my toddler hasn’t done at home a time or twelve,” Nathan strained a weak smile and started to back away, hushing his voice again. “Don’t give up…radio chatter went silent. That never happens.”

                There was an undeniable distrust between them regardless of everything as Scully kept her small pose as she could hear Cabot shouting a series of obscenities at Madelyn in the distance. Nathan was alert as he ducked his head out of the plastic and held up a singular finger at Scully, his signaling imminent as he knew that Zeke and Aaron were still doing rounds along the remaining parts of the all but deserted twenty-eighth floor. Scully’s head turned, watching through the window as the view of the pool and the unit directly parallel to her perch were easily visible where Cabot was drilling holes into an adjacent wall. He had a hold of her modest length of chain and secured it to the fixture, guaranteeing that she wouldn’t be able to run interference again.

                “Zeke, Aaron, Nathan! I want someone making sure that Maddy doesn’t yank her chains free while I have a rather unpleasant discussion with a certain little redheaded that likes fucking with my income!” Cabot’s voice was shockingly loud as Nathan joined the others, avoiding any chance of suspicion as Cabot rounded a corner, ripping off his leather gloves in the process.

                The big man was silent as usual, nodding at Aaron and Nathan before meandering off toward the partially confined space that held a moderately battered Madelyn, almost as though he was purposely avoiding the hurricane that was a fully enraged Cabot. The expansive space that was the open floorplan of the two story penthouse had been drastically altered in the hours since the escape had occurred, sending Cabot into a fit that resulted in the covering of the second unit’s door with two inch thick ply, screwing it into the framework.  The plastic had been re-affixed over the broken window and the actuality of Cabot’s dirty deeds was laid out like a splayed deck of cards—with every little sharp object and gun out on display. He shot a look toward Nathan and Aaron, who both made themselves scarce with the look of absolute death from their overseer as he ripped off his jacket and unbuttoned his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbows.

                “I have been patient, at best, with you, and I am so done being gentle after the little stunt you fucking pulled,” Cabot was seething through his teeth, the sneer imposing as he slid through the plastic and watched Scully cling to the window, pulling her limbs as close to her body as humanly possible. “I really hope you don’t think you’re getting away from me this time.”

                “Weren’t satisfied grazing me with two bullets and pistol whipping me?” Scully’s side was the worst of her injuries as the blood was still oozing from the wound as she glared up at him. “You know this leads to nowhere good for you, right?”

                “Do you understand why I use these small shackle lengths, Agent Scully? Have you quite imagined exactly why they are useful?” Cabot leaned down just slightly, gathering his left hand around the center of the lead between her ankles before standing up straight, giving it a generous tug until she slid across the floor a good two and a half feet toward him, knocking her on her back in the process. “Is it becoming quite clear or are you planning on exercising that smart mouth some more?”

                Scully tried to pull herself back up by way of the edge of the window but became less than capable of doing so as he pulled the chain again, twisting it until she was toward the center of the room. “Son of a bitch!”

                Cabot’s temper hadn’t even begun to spill over with Scully as he held the only undamaged edge of the dress, ripping it clear up to her thigh in a swift motion, in any effort to gain access to her as he dropped the chain, stepping against it. He had her completely trapped and for the first time, Scully felt like that depredation was imminent, knocking, close. His hands were at his belt in only a few moments and the snap of leather pulling free from the final belt-loop had Scully resisting him in the most anguished of motions as she reached for the window, grasping at anything that might help her, that might assist in overcoming his advances. She had fought for too long to lose the battle so easily, so quickly, to a fit of apoplexy.

                She was the reason he was losing his composure and she had to keep that close to her consciousness, even as it seemed so far gone.

                Cabot’s actions were rooted heavily in his need for destruction as his hand shook and used the buckle-less end of his belt to strap her across the midsection, the snap of skin and dress material alike preceding the shriek that almost couldn’t be contained. Cabot had that shit eating grin as he watched her wince after the first scream ended, delighting in how quickly she had become less willing to wiggle away. He was more than a little pleased with himself as Scully half elevated off of the floor to escape the second blow. She would have no such luck as second hit broke skin on the opposite side of the bullet graze and nearly dropped her into unconsciousness as the sound stopped coming from her mouth. She was losing the will to fight him altogether as he discarded the belt and roughly pulled her by the hips toward him, leaning against her.

                “Boss, Boss…Boss!” Nathan’s voice awkwardly stopped Cabot as he nearly had Scully’s knees apart, her eyes filled with pain laced tears as the front of the dress was ripped and saturated with fresh blood.

                Nathan almost didn’t make it this time to stop Cabot’s freight train libido marred by absolute evil that had been on constant interrupt since the day he had arrived.

                “This had better be fucking important, Nathan,” Cabot’s head turned toward him as he stood in the doorway, expecting the words to come slipping free with ease as he stood there with his mouth half open, silently stuttering. “Well? What is it?”

                Nathan hesitated, clearing his throat as he glanced at Scully’s face only once to make sure that she could breathe fully, the color returning to her cheeks. “Six of the ten alarms, three of which are all on the twenty-eighth floor, are sounding in the booth—which protocols do you want me to run?”

                Cabot rolled his eyes, his right hand gathered along the curve of Scully’s hip to keep her still as she stared at Nathan. “Did you bother to check them or did you just come in here to irritate me again? Don’t answer that…go check the monitors and if it looks like we have a problem then come to get me but not unless it’s dire.”

                Scully’s eyes were on the dimming horizon as the sun had nearly disappeared behind the mountains entirely, the awakening lights of the city smeared only by the streaks of rain down the window pane like tears down her own cheeks. Her eyes snapped open as the wind roughly pelted the moisture against the glass, the ticking sound giving her that requisite mnemonic to fight, to lose herself in any chance that Mulder was even remotely close to getting there…to aver within her soul that the last moment she saw his face wasn’t going to be the final time. She turned her head back toward Cabot, tilting into his readied fist as he held her head down, gripping her at the neck and jaw, while he put nearly all of his weight against her. It was just enough of a distance shift to give Scully her opening to rake him hard across the face, gauging him across his right eye, shouting into the air to the point neither one even noticed the boom of the adjacent unit’s doors slamming against the wall.

                “FBI! Get on your knees! Hands above your head!” The voices were loud enough that they echoed through the hollowed out corridors, the corrugated ceilings amplifying by the second.

                The scattered stomps in every direction didn’t necessarily damper Cabot’s truculence as he only slid backwards enough to re-establish his grip on Scully. He knew he was about to get caught and he no longer cared as he squeezed his digits a little tighter against the skin of Scully’s neck, cutting off her airway even further with an intent to kill her. She could no longer scream or vocalize, let alone call Mulder’s name as the only face above her was Cabot’s menacing visage. The darkness was creeping in, from the outside in and disquiet had Scully’s heart beating faster, harder, up into her quickly closing throat.

                “They are up there,” Nathan’s voice had Scully on high alert as she purposely thrashed both legs, making as much noise as she could.

                “Get your fucking hands off of her!” Mulder’s voice was the flare shooting into the night’s sky as the air rushed back into Scully’s lungs, the pressure all but disappearing as he seized Cabot from his half straddling position and threw him backwards. “Someone get a set of cuffs on him before I kill him.”

                “Agent Mulder, at long last…” Cabot grinned, his single-minded, unwavering vision propelling him forward as he lunged at Mulder, only to get one hell of an upper cut from him that knocked him against the wall.

                “Get him out of here!” Mulder shouted at a group of SWAT and FBI Agents in tactical gear as they rounded the corner, his mind singularly on Scully as he turned his head toward her, the tone instantly changing. “Scully…”

                “Mulder,” Scully already had herself half propped up against the cold window, her fingers sliding down the glass as she slowly blinked while Mulder knelt and gathered the chain affixed to her ankles, pulling the pin out of the shackles. “What took you so long?”

                “The one time that being a lot worse than fashionably late turns into my absolute worst nightmare just had to be this time,” Mulder slid out of his coat and wrapped it around her before giving a final shift to pop the pins free from her restraints around her wrists, eyes searching her face as he watched silent tears sliding down her cheeks, tilting her chin up until she looked him in the eye. “Hey…I’m here…I’m here.”

                Scully had been holding the pieces together up till that moment that she could feel him, smell his cologne in close proximity to her, sending every bit of her remaining energy flooding toward the emotional floodgates as she tugged his shirt closer, pulling herself into his sphere, into that space she desperately needed. Mulder had been timid in any motion to touch her until he could feel her sobbing against him, vibrating the emotional breakdown into him that he had already been feeling like a vice grip slowly tightening around his heart, crushing it. He closed his eyes and let the tears fall while he slid his arm under her legs and braced her back, encouraging her even closer as he felt her arms around his midsection, gripping him at his back. He made no motion to stand while he cradled her in his arms as he glanced out the window at the vast drop from the balcony, the rain falling in a cascade as the wind started to pick back up.

                Words didn’t need to be said as he glanced down at the most expressive of eyes looking up at him from the space against his chest as she reached up to feel skin at the spot below his Adam’s apple, reminding herself that he really was there. He slowly stood and adjusted his grip on her, brushing his cheek and lips along the bare spot above her eyebrow only to feel her entire body sigh into him, holding him that much tighter.

 

 

18 Days Later – 5:15 PM (Friday, September 11, 1998)

FBI Headquarters

Washington DC

 

                Scully’s exterior wounds had all but healed, aside from a couple of still yellow bruises at the top of her forehead, as her heels carried her down the corridor beside Mulder just outside of the conference room. She had already been bombarded by a half dozen Agents who were mildly curious about the leave of absence, completely unaware that she spent a large portion of it in a hospital bed to recover as best as she could. As her heels barely tapped against the tile, Mulder had become keenly, almost hyper aware of her presence as he slid his pinky along her palm until she made eye contact with him, blushing almost immediately. They had been skirting around the issue of the number of hours they had burned living and dying by feigning ignorance to their own feelings but were playing with fate’s cruel hand again as Scully bit down on the tip of her tongue.

                “You ready for all of this?” Mulder was indicating the debriefing but the way he was standing in front of her with his lips just slightly parted, teeth grazing the bottom lip, had her taking it straight into left field.

                Scully cleared her throat and found her smile creeping up as she tilted her head to the side, slowly blinking as she shook the image of that curiously plump lip between her own teeth from her mind. “Not like I haven’t had to face Kersh’s firing squad with and without your backup before…piece of cake.”

                “Agent Scully, Agent Mulder…come on in, lets get this over with,” Kersh had one of those weird expressions that they couldn’t quite place as he caught their attention from the doorway, his tie hanging slightly askew as he gestured toward both of them, nodding gently.

                Mulder let her go in first and gathered his fingers at the small of her back as he stood behind her, more or less drinking her in as he watched her turn her head to glance up at him almost expectantly. He smiled at her and winked instinctively, silently adoring those tiny wisps of hair that came out from behind her ear and slid along her forehead as she stole that glance. She rolled her eyes as his grin lingered a little longer than usual, along with his hand at her back that had incited a trail of goosebumps up her back in spite of their newfound mixed company. The electric reaction between them was, luckily for them, going completely unnoticed by nearly everyone in the room as Scully resumed finding two open seats at the table.

                The only two people that seemed to take notice were Madelyn and Hendricks, who looked shades different dressed in their business attire, badging barely visible and lost time hidden by closeness at the conference table.

                “I’ll make this as quick as I can to avoid spending more time than necessary on this for everyone in this room,” Kersh looked around, barely glancing at Mulder and Scully before settling his eyes squarely on Hendricks. “I have been told that as a result of our involvement on this operation that eleven individuals including three men found at the site were arrested for participation in a long standing human trafficking ring…and thirteen women were reunited with their families, including one of your own team?”

                “Despite some of the severe problems that were discovered with the assistance of Agents Mulder and Scully as well as Assistant Director Skinner, we were able to find and neutralize the individual leaks within our own division,” Hendricks nodded in their direction, his eyes considerably brighter and happier than they had been before. “They’re the reason we were able to turn everything back around and facilitate the successful release of the majority of the missing girls we had been looking for…despite the mental and physical stress that it undoubtedly put them under.”

                Mulder nudged Scully under the table with the tips of his fingers across her thigh as she crossed her legs as he noticed her fidgeting while doing her absolute best not to recall the details of her kidnapping. She couldn’t help but angle her eyes in his direction, keeping her head in a forward direction, pressing her lips together as she inhaled a deep breath through her nose. The gesture, while aimed with the sincerest of intention, had Scully’s blood pressure spiking, her heart jumping, and her fingers unnecessarily wanting to pull the hem of her skirt just a little higher until Mulder’s hand had no choice but to rub up against her nylons. She resisted that primal urge but wanted to keep him near as she swallowed hard and gave his hand a squeeze, keeping his hand there.

                The motion was so unexpected that it had Mulder choking on his own spit, inviting the stares of half of the room in the process.

                “The joint task force has already done a large majority of the takedown so the only guarantee we really need at this point is the signatures on the affidavits and to finish the remaining testimony from the undercover officer, Nathan Ellis,” Madelyn flipped through the paperwork in front of her and glanced at Scully before regaining eye contact with Kersh.

                Hendricks cleared his throat and made eye contact with the three obscenely quiet Agents in the room that had risked it all for his cause. “The biggest assurance that SWAT is giving to the FBI is that the details of the video and auditory evidence cannot and will not be distributed to anyone for any reason to protect the undercover officers as well as the victims which is the main reason we came here today.”

                Scully raised an eyebrow at Hendricks, the flash of gumption eloquently leaving her mouth. “The only conclusion met via any of those recordings, visual or otherwise, would have been that a very sick man infiltrated a specialized tactical division of law enforcement—nothing more.”

                “To add to Agent Scully’s rather astute comment…given the limited knowledge of former SWAT member Thomas Cabot’s hidden agenda, the fact loss of life was so limited is a miracle in itself and nothing said or done painted either of our agencies negatively,” Mulder coaxed a rather healthy smirk from Hendricks as he straightened his spine and nodded in his direction.

                “I don’t think I could’ve said it any better and if we’re needed further to close this case…my door is open,” Skinner glanced at Kersh, continuing his comment. “I can’t volunteer Agents Mulder or Scully, that’s your job.”

                “Oh, yes, absolutely, just say the word if they are needed in any capacity and I will make sure they are briefed on whatever you need,” Kersh started to stand, shaking hands with Hendricks and Madelyn. “Normally these are much longer and messy but I’m assuming there’s nothing further?”

                “Not at this time, everyone here is free of my ugly mug for at least a week,” Hendricks shook Kersh’s hand and waited for the awkward laugh before following Mulder and Scully toward the doorway just out of his view and ear. “He’s…intense.”

                “Well, that’s what happens when you’re no longer comfortably a basement dwelling crackpot staring up at the sky,” Mulder started out into the hallway, rolling his eyes just slightly. “You get bosses like that one.”

                “You’re still staring up at the sky, who are you kidding?” Scully elbowed him and did a half turn as they were all flooding into the hallway.

                “Wounded…” Mulder grasped his chest and gave her a hurt look, pouting at her for about a half of a second before shaking hands with Hendricks. “This is what I deal with every day.”

                “It toughens you up—and when it’s gone you miss it,” Hendricks glanced at Scully and Madelyn standing side-by-side, his eyes lingering over his own partner, her replaced engagement ring glittering on her finger. “Believe me.”

                “All of you, please take care and thank you, for everything,” Madelyn shook hands with Skinner and Mulder before giving a light hug to Scully, lingering just a little. “You know who to call if you need anything.”

                Scully nodded as she pulled away and stood next to Mulder as Hendricks and Madelyn went for the elevator, waving back to them as they waited for the doors to open. It didn’t take long for them to disappear inside, returning the hallway to a strange level of silence that it didn’t usually get to, on any day of the week. They all stood, quietly contemplating the finality of it before Mulder glanced at Scully, who simply shook her head at him and glanced at her phone to turn the volume back on. Skinner checked his watch and slid his phone back into his pocket before making eye contact with Mulder’s mischievous looking face, earning a raised eyebrow in the process.

                “Roughly five o’clock on a Friday night and Kersh isn’t out here, up my ass telling me to get back to work?” Mulder looked at Skinner as he started to walk away. “That sounds like a recipe for the best kind of trouble.”

                “Oh, see, you two may not have a life, but I do and I’m going to go live it,” Skinner backed away, eyebrows raised, keeping his voice low as he started to turn toward the elevator. “I know that’s a terribly foreign concept for you both…Goodnight!”

                “Try not to get into too much trouble, Mulder, I’ll see you Monday?” Scully had the corner of her lip between her teeth, her head turning just as Skinner disappeared into the elevator, her heels tapping against the floor as she hesitated in moving toward the stairwell.

                Mulder stood there for all of three seconds before he half sprinted after her, his voice almost cracking as he caught up to her at the stairwell door. “Scully…I’ve been doing an inordinate amount of thinking today and I don’t really want to go home or even anywhere by myself as a result. I was just contemplating, I know I don’t really ask but, would you like to go do something?”

                Scully couldn’t hide the elation on her face over how badly she wanted to hear that question and how relieved she was that she didn’t need to ask him first as she leaned against the door, pushing it open with her back and elbow. “So, what did you have in mind then?”

Notes:

Quote by:
Ernest Hemingway

Chapter 8: Tequila Sunrise

Summary:

(Post Drive for clerical reasons only)

In the aftermath of their emotionally damaging case, Mulder and Scully go to a local pub to enjoy a rare drink together and get a little more out of their conversation than they bargained for.

Notes:

Disclaimer: Agent Scully, Agent Mulder, and Assistant Director Skinner belong respectively to Chris Carter, FOX Productions, and TenThirteen Productions. All other characters are original and any likeness or named similarities to any real-life persons are purely coincidental (unless, well, you’ve been told, then you should’ve expected such things and shouldn’t get upset over anything that happens to them, respectively)

Ingredients
3 oz freshly squeezed orange juice
1.5 oz white tequila tequila blanco
0.5 oz grenadine syrup
1 orange slice, for garnish
maraschino cherry for garnish
Instructions
Fill a tall glass with crushed ice and add the tequila.

Pour in the orange juice and then slowly pour in the grenadine.

Garnish with orange slice (or wheel) and a maraschino cherry.

YOU'RE WELCOME

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

 

 

I realized I was thinking of you,

And I began to wonder how long

You’d been on my mind.

Then it occurred to me;

Since I met you, you’ve never left.

-Anonymous

 

 

6:25 PM

Hawk ‘N’ Dove on Capitol Hill

 

                “Mulder, you’re worse than a little boy at Christmas,” Scully was a little stunned by his exuberance as he helped her out of the cab, busily paying the driver as though his life depended on being on the sidewalk before her. “We both could’ve at least changed clothes, I don’t know, to something less FBI?”

                Mulder guided the door shut and found himself angled perfectly to scope out her ass before she turned around to look at him. “I don’t know, I kind of like that skirt on you, Scully…once you get that jacket off, presto change-o, it’ll be like magic and you’ll be semi-casual in a second.”

                “Nicely done, that was smooth,” Scully was dripping in sarcasm as she rolled her eyes while Mulder slid in front of her and opened the front door to the darkened exterior of one of the oldest pubs in DC. “Why am I not surprised?”

                “Live a little—it’s not what you think,” Mulder was trying to get her not to even glance at the greenish, almost oxidized in color, awnings jutting out from above the window seating beckoning them in to their left as he gestured toward the warmth emanating from the already chatty interior. “Give it a go?”

                “Oh, Agent Mulder, you don’t even know what you’re in for by asking me to do that,” Scully stepped over the threshold and purposely maintained eye contact with him until she was at least three full footsteps inside, a little smirk hiding on her lips. “Well…where do you want me?”

                Mulder nearly stumbled face first into a stack of menus, nearly took out the hostess stand and shrugged it off as he neared her, his eyes wide like a deer caught gracelessly in the headlights. “Pardon?”

                “To sit, Mulder, where do you want me to sit?” Scully bit down on her lip, the blush forming on her cheeks as the words did just as they intended and took Mulder completely off kilter in just shy of fifteen seconds.

                Mulder resisted the urge to shout ‘my lap’ like a horny, uncoordinated teenager as she looked up at him with those sapphire blues shimmering like a thousand stars and instead pointed at the stairwell, half stuttering as he got a little closer to her. “Oh, yeah, I like it up there…it’s cozy.”

                Scully nodded slowly and glanced around at the bar that already seemed more than a little busy in booths and at the main bar before casually moving closer to Mulder, sliding her fingers across his palm until they laced with his. “Maybe you should lead the way, then.”

                The jitteriness between them was evident but mildly controlled as Mulder kept his hand pleasantly around Scully’s as he led her toward the stairs, the ambiance of the bar evenly spread between quiet and bold, rowdy and controlled. Scully looked up at him as he was a step and a half above her, as a Christmas light lit hand railing made him glow while David Bowie and Queen harmonized about being under pressure. There was something poetic and ironic about it all as she glanced back at the diminishing, dimmed space behind her full of people that had scattered into their individual groups while she was maneuvering toward an unknown spot with a man that had been dancing around their flirtation for far too long. The top of the stairs represented so much more than simply entering a new space and Scully felt it treading just enough into her stomach as the butterflies were whirling as Mulder smiled at her.

                “This area looks okay, right?” Mulder was up against a little lounge space with three, matching leather couches and coffee tables, barely lit by those old fashioned outdoor lights in a canopy pattern over the top of the space, held in place by a loop in the center of the ceiling.

                “I mean, do you plan on staying awhile, right?” Scully stepped up into the area and was a little shocked that no one was up there even though it was still early, that shy grin peeking out as she nodded and leaned against the armrest to the one at the back, coyness blooming. “These certainly look a lot more comfortable than the bar stools or the booths with a big table shoved between the benches…”

                I think she’s trying to kill me.

                Mulder swallowed hard and stayed where he was standing, the heat already swelling between them as he watched her slowly sit, crossing her legs like she’d been practicing that for days. “I’m going to go get drinks…anything you’d like in particular?”

                “Surprise me, Mulder, you know what I like,” Scully slid out of her jacket and leaned back against the cushions, disarming him with her grin in a half second.

                Mulder groaned as he bit down on his bottom lip, hoping that she wouldn’t actually hear it before nodding at her, the nervous teenager making an appearance as his voice climbed an octave. “Okay, I’ll be right back with what I think will work…hopefully. You just keep getting comfortable.”

                Scully waited until he was at the other end of the bar talking up the bartender to let out her own little high pitched vocalization as she felt the warmth rising in her cheeks while she fidgeted on the couch, crossing her leg a little higher. She hadn’t been quite this nervous in a very long time but the notion of the line that had precariously divided them was staring her in the face as she fiddled with the hem of her skirt as her eyes moved along the walls, taking in her surroundings. Her attention fixated on the haphazardly placed posters, knickknacks on little shelves, and smirked at the mishmash of sports and music memorabilia that almost didn’t blend along with the pub refences that seemed to stick out. A laugh left her lips as her wandering gaze stopped on the PSA style placard that read “Men: No shirt, No shoes, No service, Ladies, No shirt, Free Drinks” in old fashioned font.

                “What’s so funny?” Mulder had returned with a couple of tall glasses filled to the brim with brightly colored liquid and ice, straws sticking out of the top and cherries floating in the center, his eyebrows furrowing as he set them on the table in front of her.

                Scully held her index up, pointing at the sign while stifling the remnants of her giggle as her eyes widened looking at the drink in front of her while Mulder stayed standing to remove his own jacket. “This drink just looks like you’ll be carrying me home after I embarrass myself, Mulder…what in the hell is in it?”

                “I saw you practically lick the bottom of a martini glass in Vegas, Scully, so what I just gave you isn’t going to make anything mortifying unless that tickles your fancy,” Mulder tossed his jacket across the top of hers and smirked at the sign on the wall, glancing at her before sitting next to her. “Next round maybe you can help out with that?”

                “Mulder, Jesus Christ,” Scully had the straw up by her mouth and coughed hard as she inhaled straight air from the question, the reaction of which had Mulder laughing at her immediately. “You’re not right.”

                “Is it that bad?” Mulder knew she wasn’t talking about the drink as he sipped his own and casually put his arm across the back of the couch, leaning back until he was encroaching on her personal bubble. “I made the bartender look at you before I picked it out...”

                “You know damn well I haven’t even drank it yet,” Scully cradled the cold glass in her hands and kept her back purposely away from the cushions as she felt his heat radiating from his side as she tilted her head in his direction. “Plus, that scenario really only benefits the bartender…you’d have nothing to gain from it.”

                “Touché, Scully,” Mulder waited until the straw was secured between her lips to let his hand bridge the gap between them, rubbing the center of her back with just enough pressure until he could hear the unrestrained groan with a mouthful of alcohol from her. “You okay or do you need me to stop?”

                Scully swallowed and had red across her cheeks, flushed with heat from the blushing and the drink in unison as she shook her head. “There’s tequila in here, isn’t there?”

                “I would hope that a tequila sunrise has tequila in it,” Mulder set his glass down next to hers and tilted his head back as he watched her slide forward, getting to her feet before he could fully fathom what she was doing. “Already tired of me?”

                “Oh, I’ve already put in six years of on the clock, a couple of minutes of you off the clock is hardly enough to tire me out…You stay right there,” Scully took a healthy drink of her tequila sunrise and winced over the afterburn of the tequila before setting it back down on the table.

                Scully winked at him before walking toward the bar, wiping the remnant of her drink from her lips as she approached the gap in the seats where she leaned across the lacquer top. It was an odd concept to even feel a second’s passing of jealousy as he watched her capturing the attention of the drink-slinger as he wiped down a few fresh glasses but he felt it, deep within him as her smile could light up any room from a state of total darkness. Mulder was studying her every move as he she was talking to the attentive bartender, her radiance more than captivating a man other than him as she circled her fingers along the top of the bar, glancing toward the booths to the right. It was undeniably unnerving to even think she was flirting but Mulder couldn’t help himself as the bartender nodded back, returned that same illuminating grin she had, before he noticed the guy gesturing toward the edge of the bar, further away from the spot they were currently.

                Stop getting possessive, you dumbass. It’s just the bartender and you’re making yourself look like a complete moron.

                Mulder took a drink of his sweating mixed drink and watched the condensation dripping down the side of the glass, not even noticing that Scully had moved all the way to the far edge of the bar. She was partially out of view, studying something heavily, completely unaware that Mulder’s self-conscious, melancholy self-doubt was taking him by the testicles. He tried not to pay attention until he saw her hips swinging in the walkway coming back toward him, the mischievous look hiding as she pressed her lips together and stepped up into their seating area. There was something wild in not knowing if she was messing with him as he didn’t recognize that look she had on her face and he didn’t know how to proceed with himself or with her without questioning the details.

                “What’s that look for?” Scully purposely angled herself around the wrong side of the table and scooted in front of him, brushing her knees against his as he started to make room for her. “Too much tequila already?”

                “I’ve got a stronger constitution than that, Scully,” Mulder followed her gaze as she came down to his level, the mysteriousness of what she had done at the other end of the bar only deepening as she picked up her glass to sip it. “If you have somewhere else you need to be, I’d understand…I hope you know that.”

                The music overhead was lulling, signaling an approaching end as Scully wrinkled her nose at him as she set her glass on the napkin in front of her, resting her elbow against the cushions while pulling herself up a little higher on the couch. “What makes you think I planned on going anywhere but right here, Mulder?”

                “Second guessing the invitation? Maybe I secretly smell bad and you’re just too nice to say anything about it?” Mulder wasn’t used to her knees being this close to him as he sat there with his glass between his thighs while her position next to him became less and less rigid. “It’s the second one isn’t it?”

                Scully lifted her eyebrows and tapped her fingers against the leather behind Mulder’s head, her eyes looking toward a speaker partially hidden in the above corner before she reached for her glass. “I was doing that…and probably the next ten? Give or take?”

                “You were feeding the jukebox?” Mulder listened for the song and grinned from behind his glass, watching her sip her tequila sunrise, the curiosity fully piqued. “Def Leppard? Aren’t you just surprising? Why Hysteria?”

                “Why not?” Scully blinked slowly, holding her glass in her left hand while she leaned against the other, the wonder displayed as she glanced at the ice floating in her glass. “Why did you invite me here tonight? I don’t want a bullshit answer so give me the real reason you didn’t want to go home alone tonight.”

                “Wow, diving right for my jugular, right?” Scully hadn’t moved but her eyes were no longer on him as Mulder inhaled deeply and took a considerable swig of the drink before setting it down on the table, folding his hands in his lap, embarrassed to look at her. “I didn’t want to revisit Las Vegas tonight but I think, deep down, it was unavoidable. Cabot got in my head and he got in there worse than Modell ever did because he was hurting you in a physical sense while trying to mentally break both of us. Every little thing he said, having to hear you screaming in the background…I never realized just how much it was going to affect me.”

                Scully held her breath for a moment, rubbed her lips together and sat up a little straighter, pulling both legs further onto the leather to make eye contact with him, allowing some intrepidness to burn through her. “Before things went bad the way that they did, something felt different in the way you were looking at me and the way that it made me feel to be looked at by you to the point that I walked out of the control room without my normal level of focus. I had you in my ear but it was more like you were in my head, present and mindful of my every move, not even realizing that I was consciously moving and acting a certain way, for you. I sat in that bar wanting nothing more than to be sitting there next to you, doing exactly what we are doing now….enjoying a drink and each other’s company, finding out just how far I could push those limits before you bring me right back to reality. You can stop me at any time, Mulder.”

                “Oh, no, I’m thinking I might need to encourage you to finish what you have in your hand and get you another so you can keep going,” Mulder’s expression was well past elation as he tapped the bottom of her glass while she held it in her hand, fidgeting next to him again. “Why are you squirming so much? Is it the drink? Was it really too strong?”

                “Be serious, please—is it pity that you invited me out here or was it loaded and now you’re delighted that I opened my mouth that has been barely touched by tequila? If you needed to have a little flattery, I could’ve done that stone sober in the bullpen,” Scully was completely pink, flooding from her nose all the way to the top of her shirt, getting hot all over as she chased her straw with the tip of her tongue to sip it again.

                Don’t tease me. They didn’t even realize that they were thinking it in unison as they were awkwardly diverting their gazes away from each other.

                “I didn’t flirt with you or make blatant passes at you when you were in the bar in Vegas just to make you feel comfortable while you were out there on the casino floor and at that bar, Scully,” Mulder gawked at her with the straw in her mouth, transfixed on it for a moment until he could gather his bearings enough to reach for his own drink, his heart thudding in his ears as he looked at her with a mouthful of his own drink before swallowing. “I have tiptoed so carefully around you for fear that the line in the sand was really as far as it should ever go.”

                “Your powers of observation really are on the level of a toddler being told to sit in a corner and be quiet these days, Mulder…and you definitely haven’t been listening or paying attention at all, have you?” Scully had been gently tapping on the back of Mulder’s neck to the beat of the song that had taken over on the jukebox after Led Zeppelin had concluded for at least thirty full seconds. “There are little clues I keep leaving you but your ears must be awfully clogged or you’re so worried about offending me to actually notice that I’ve left them.”

                “I’m a little high strung tonight, if you haven’t noticed,” Mulder shook his head at her, finishing the drink in his hand mainly out of that nervousness that had been brewing since he walked through the door and met glances with her as she held that look from behind her glass. “Heat of the moment? Scully, if you queued up ‘Come on Eileen’ on that jukebox you might need to hold me back…”

                “I’ve noticed,” Scully could see the booths filling up with people in her peripheral but didn’t care about mixed company as she stayed in that position with her fingers against the back of his neck. “I guess you’ll have to keep listening to see where my thought process was headed, huh?”

                The message couldn’t have been clearer from his often hard to read partner as her thumb glided along the curve of his neck and had him raising his glass in the air as the bartender looked in their direction. “I don’t know about you, Scully, but I think I need another one…”

                “I’m game,” Scully turned her head and raised her glass in a similar fashion before the bartender could look away, her eyes finding Mulder’s wandering gaze as she leaned toward the table to put her glass down next to his. “Am I making you nervous? You seem nervous.”

                “That really seems like something I should be asking, not you,” Mulder couldn’t help but be a little impressed by the surge of pluckiness that Scully was exhibiting while simultaneously finding it appalling that he was still minutely overwrought by the idea she might still reject a returned advance. “I’m still stuck on that comment that you made that you did all of that teasing and toying in Vegas at the bar for me…explain what that means, Scully, because I think you just destroyed most of my basic comprehension skills.”

                “Oh, Christ,” Scully picked her glass back up, nearly inhaled the remainder of her tequila sunrise and put it back on the table, sliding back just a little to give him a look of shock as her skirt was now riding up at the most inopportune time. “Transparency is not something either one of us are exactly fantastic at recognizing, Mulder, but I would’ve thought you would’ve understood me letting you know that the fact that Cabot wasn’t the first to bring up the way that I look at you—he just happened to be the first to do it with dozens of witnesses. While I fully intend on forgetting how it was brought up by him, I don’t intend on forgetting that there’s truth in it and that I feel it in my bones…part of me was just hoping that maybe, just maybe, it was reciprocated because it seemed like it was.”

                “I didn’t mean to upset you,” Mulder felt the absence of her warmth against his side and glanced at her fingers as they coiled around each other in her lap before reaching for them, his gaze following the line of buttons up until his eyes met her moderately confused stare. “You get me off-kilter more than any woman I’ve ever met in my entire life…do you know that?”

                “I’m not upset,” Scully had spent too much time pushing the limits that she hadn’t actually stopped consider the reactionary reality of them being tested back as Mulder’s hand drifted to her wrist, drawing her closer. “What are you doing?”

                “What I should’ve done the moment I had you back in my arms in that penthouse,” Mulder had her sweating it, shaking underneath of his grip as he didn’t bother to inch closer or wait for an approval or an open mouth to welcome him in as he eclipsed the distance, sliding his free hand around to the back of her neck simply for leverage.

                It wasn’t exactly poetry in motion or even a particularly graceful act as Mulder’s hand slid to Scully’s thigh and precariously slid her left leg forward until it completely slid off of the couch and over his thigh while his tongue slipped past her teeth, earning a muffled yelp for his efforts. It brought her slightly off balance but she angled into it as her eyes fluttered closed, inhaling the intensity that he diffused with every breath, every shift of his lips against hers. The little maneuver was handsy, halfway to tawdry as Mulder’s thumb unmistakably gravitated past the top of her thigh highs as her skirt traveled another inch higher, exposing more than enough to show the elastic and lace grip top to anyone that might’ve been walking by. Scully held onto him, sliding her hands up to his shoulders while the hedonistic first kiss seemed to be swaying closer to that tequila and spiritedness driven side. The heavy breathing was audible and mutually hot, vibrating into one another as they had completely forgotten the meaning of “taking your time”, deepening their connection until their heads were swimming.  They were allowing the cork to pop and bounce off of the ceiling as lips touched, hands groped arms, shoulders, and thighs without even a second thought to whether or not they had attracted any onlookers.

                Scully reluctantly tilted her head toward the other side, popping her lips free of their kiss but not from the roaming hands on her thigh or at the back of her neck as she breathed heavily, glancing up like a deer in the headlights. “Mulder, wait, wait a second…Time out.”

                Mulder had his mouth halfway to the curve of her shoulder, pushing her shirt to the side in the process, as he let out a grunt and squeezed her thigh quite intently. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to put a fire extinguisher on this when I’m just getting started, Scully?”

                “She’s telling you to come up for air for just a second so I can double check that I can take your essentially empty glasses,” The bartender’s voice had Mulder somewhere between not giving a shit and red-faced as Mulder quietly turned to face him, with a shit-eating grin to boot while Scully did nothing more than hide a laugh into his shirt. “Here is your second round, not that you need it from the looks of things, and I’ll be taking the glasses full of watery ice if you’re ready to part with them?”

                “Yeah, those are definitely empty,” Scully’s silent laughter against his chest was vibrating him as he rubbed the back of her head and gave her another squeeze a smidgen higher on her thigh until the sound finally came out, a smile flashing across his face. “Well, that was more than a little interesting.”

                Scully lifted her head from his shirt, eyes watering from the smothered laughter and deepened pinkness along the apples of her cheeks as she moved her index along his collar, her voice climbing in tone as she licked her lips. “Come on now, don’t start playing dirty while I’m at a disadvantage, Mulder.”

                “Is there anything else I could get for you both or were you aiming for an audience?” The bartender was still there with an awkward expression displayed on his face as he held their empty glasses in his hand, a towel slung across his shoulder, his tongue clicking on the roof of his mouth. “Cos I gotta tell you both, that’s not really my fetish when I’m sober and on the clock…”

                “…But when you’re off the clock it’s a different story?” Scully had an incredulous grin on her face as she covered a laugh with her hand, catching the poor guy unaware.

                “I don’t know if I really should be answering that question,” the bartender’s face rivaled Scully’s in redness as his eyes nearly popped out of his head knowing that he hadn’t made either of those drinks strong enough for her to be tipsy.

                “I think we’re good for the time being, thanks,” Mulder barely glanced at him, his eyes on the woman beside him as she hid her giggling behind her fingers , creating a little more redness along her nose and forehead in the process as she let her digits drift away from her lips. “Now, where were we?”

                “You have that look on your face like you’ve just watched one of those tapes that don’t belong to you again,” Scully was acutely aware of Mulder’s hand climbing a little higher on her thigh, the clip of her garters peeking out from the hem of her skirt where his thumb was now grazing, his index and middle finger sliding to the back of her leg to pull her closer. “Mulder, oh my God….”

                “Oh, no, that look is all about you  and making up for a lot of lost time, Scully,” Mulder gathered his hand through her hair and savored the feel of her fingers as they poured over his neck, that magnetism more than bleeding through as he met her in the middle, devouring her mouth all over again.

                Six years hadn’t been at their door knocking but the past eighteen days had been a prodigious reminder of what had nearly come to be more than once as lips parted, heads tilted, and eyes closed in a singular action. The rush was dangerous but met an ache as mouths were alive and edges became curves as control was given rather than taken. It was uncharted territory, to put it bluntly, but neither were exactly inclined to stop as the firefly glow above their head provided a soft, passion driven mood. They enveloped each other in a profound, electric way as ache melted into need, as lips found that deeper place and the clearest became nothing more than blended shapes and shadows around them. Every moment of the past six years together as nothing more than partners and friends, at best, poured out, transcended into a singular heartbeat while the music captured so much more than their secret hearts’ desires.

                The chatter of the bar noise around them had been slowly increasing along with the jovial laughter that accompanied the increase of slinging of drinks. It was quickly becoming busier with that Happy Hour crowd and the more Blue Collar crowd was either disappearing out the front door or watching their inhibitions drop with every sip of alcohol that they had consumed. The idea that anyone was judging a makeout session was slipping further and further to the wayside with every second that passed, every drink that passed through the lips of every eager patron that was not a designated driver. They had been unaware of the majority of the sound until the screeching of the coffee table legs moving toward them, followed by the moderate tap of the edge against Mulder’s leg had them dropping from the high, back to a slightly harsh reality.

                “Shit, shit, shit, I’m so, so, sorry…” the woman in the equation was the first to speak as she was unmistakably tipsy and wobbly in her heels as she held onto her male counterpart.

                Mulder and Scully’s mouths had already popped free, the slightly swollen bottom lips on both of them more than apparent as they glanced up toward the clumsy intruders. It wasn’t simply that they had been interrupted; it was that Mulder’s hand had traveled as far as Scully’s ass, her skirt doing little to keep him from getting a firm squeeze of her as he heard a frustrated growl from her in the process. They looked like teenagers at a party that had opted to get drunk off of one another rather than consume any alcohol to have a good time. The idea had been working up until this point as they unpleasantly fixated on the source of their intrusion.

                “It’s really okay,” Mulder’s voice was ragged already as he kept his hand across Scully’s backside while she wiped her mouth just slightly. “No need to apologize.”

                The proud, almost tipsy level laugh that had left the woman’s lips had an air of familiarity as she spun around in her heels, the copper hair bouncing in the process as she smirked at them. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me—Agent Mulder, Agent Scully, is that you?”

                “Oh, fuck me,” Scully was like a deer in the headlights as the voice fully registered. “Arlene…”

                “Arlene, we can find another spot to sit,” Her partner didn’t want to turn to look at them as he wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her backwards but his voice was more than distinctive.

                “Oh, don’t be bashful, look who it isn’t!” Arlene elbowed him and swatted his hand across her waist, the slightly established slur apparent as she turned her head to look at him.

                “For the love of the baby Jesus in the mother fucking manger,” Mulder couldn’t help himself but he already knew who the man wrapped haphazardly around Arlene’s waist was and it had him accidentally squeezing Scully’s ass with a little bit of recklessness that she let out a defenseless, stunned groan. “Dammit…sorry.”

                “We really are very sorry to intrude,” Skinner finally manned up and faced them, blushing clear to the top of his head as it was evident that a lot more than drinking had been taking place with his secretary as the smear of lipstick was still fully visibly along the curve of his neck.

                Arlene noticed that her mark all over Skinner’s neck was fully visible as she feverishly wiped it with her thumb while sheepishly grinning toward Mulder and Scully as they gave each other awkward glances, uncertain of whether or not they should move. “Oh, please, Walter, weren’t we just having a discussion over dinner, and drinks, about who we thought were certainly doing a few extracurricular activities and they certainly came up more than a few times?”

                “She just ratted your ass out,” Mulder slid his hand off of Scully’s ass with a certain nonchalant reluctance to reach for both of their drinks, offering hers to her as his nerves quelled with a little, smug grin. “Since when are we the topic of discussion, Skinman?”

                “Yes, I’m mildly curious about this information as well, Skinner,” Scully took a much needed drink of her tequila sunrise and ran a couple of fingers through her hair, smiling at the idea of just how chatty Arlene had become while inebriated.

                The expression presented for them on their former bosses face as he took a deep breath and sat down on an adjacent couch, the actuality level of his insobriety on full display as he started immediately talking with his hands. “Well, okay, so…here’s the thing…about that.”

Notes:

Quote by:
Anonymous

Songs Mentioned:
Under Pressure - Queen and David Bowie
Hysteria - Def Leppard
Heat of the Moment - Asia

 

The above referenced bar no longer looks as described - it's very upscale now (apparently from the photos, yes, I looked) but still quite the spot to go nibble on your best friend

Chapter 9: Take me home tonight

Summary:

(Post Drive for clerical reasons only)

Skinner’s drunken diatribe is a lot more than Mulder and Scully bargained for, illuminating much of their night’s turn of events—opening their eyes to a lot more than their boss’s parental confessional.

This one...is the long one...

And there be smut here so are you really upset? I didn't think so.

Notes:

Quotes in this chapter are songs – “Take me home tonight” by Eddie Money and “Thursday’s Child” by David Bowie (I’m well aware that the song wasn’t released until 1999 but it was too perfect not to have it mentioned DIRECTLY in the chapter) – see end notes for all songs mentioned.

 

Disclaimer: Agent Scully, Agent Mulder, and Assistant Director Skinner belong respectively to Chris Carter, FOX Productions, and TenThirteen Productions. All other characters are original and any likeness or named similarities to any real-life persons are purely coincidental (unless, well, you’ve been told, then you should’ve expected such things and shouldn’t get upset over anything that happens to them, respectively)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

 

 

I get frightened in all this darkness

I get nightmares I hate to sleep alone

I need some company a guardian angel

To keep me warm when the cold winds blow

-Ellie Greenwich, Jeff Barry, Michael David Leeson,

Peter Benson Vale, & Phillip Spector

“Take Me Home Tonight”

 

 

                “Well, okay, so…here’s the thing…about that,” Skinner’s words had struck a note of concern in the recently amorous Mulder and Scully as they adjusted their seated position just enough to be less obscene with their touching. “I think I might need a drink to do this…how about you, Arlene?”

                “Here, you stay right there and talk, I’ll go do that,” Arlene was, ironically, less tipsy than Skinner by the looks of things as she gave his arm a rather affectionate squeeze and kissed him on the cheek before standing up. “Are you two okay or do you need one as well?”

                “We’ve barely touched these so we’re good,” Mulder nodded, realizing the stark differences in the level of intoxication between each of them as Scully’s leg was still draped gently over the top of his like she always had sat like that. “Unless Scully? Did you want something else?”

                “Now that the tequila is starting to feel a little comfortable…I should be more than good with this for a while,” Scully took a little pull of her straw and shook her head cohesively. “Thank you, though.”

                Scully was appreciating the sentimentality brewing as she made brief eye contact with the woman that had given her dirty looks in the past only to see a complete shift in personality. She wanted to blame the kindness on the alcohol but she couldn’t entirely give all of it to that because motivations rarely change, they simply become highlighted, apparent, and aware with a little bit of liquid levity to push through the typically muddled. Arlene’s usual level of irritation with them wasn’t always driven by their actual personality traits but by the stupid things that would bring them to her desk to interrupt what would be a typically peaceful day, Scully surmised. The smile was topped off for Scully as she watched Skinner’s eyes drift up to watch Arlene slide toward the bar, spellbound by every little move she made in a similar fashion to the way Mulder had been looking at her all night.

                “How long has that been going on, Walter?” Scully made certain to emphasize Skinner’s first name as he was completely focused on watching Arlene instead of talking to them. “Because it looks like you’ve been up to no good for quite some time.”

                Skinner raised an eyebrow from behind his glasses as he turned, staring both of them down as they were still rather intimately embracing one another with their drinks in hand, sarcasm dripping off of him. “How long has this been going on? Don’t think I didn’t see where someone’s hand was when I walked up so don’t act like I’m new or not an adult—I’m not your boss so it isn’t like I’m going to get in your business about what’s frowned upon in FBI partnerships but pretenses are, in fact, dead.”

                “This just happened rather suddenly and by suddenly…not long before you interrupted,” Mulder glanced at Scully as she took another sip of the tequila sunrise, her eyes lingering over him from the top of her glass as she held the straw between her fingers. “I can’t necessarily speak for Scully on this but I’m pretty curious why we’re the topic of discussion at all and over what exactly?”

                “It isn’t that I didn’t expect someone to be talking about whether or not Spooky Mulder had melted the Ice Queen’s frozen exterior…I had just expected that you wouldn’t have been one to participate in the office gossip,” Scully was a little frank with him as she tilted her glass, her voice just as bruising as the look on her face. “Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong because I’d prefer to be wrong.”

                Skinner took a deep breath and acknowledged the crowd at the bar as he saw the number of people in front of Arlene waiting on their beverages, her caring glance in his direction giving him that little burst of energy as he shook his head. “It wasn’t office gossip; I can assure you both of that. I’ve only ever mentioned you two to her and not in the way either of you could even comprehend. You weren’t the only one that left Las Vegas with a little piece of themselves forever changed and eyes open, if you will…to the point that a fling from months ago turned into a lot more than a fling.”

                “Months ago?” Mulder bit down on his bottom lip to hide the flash of a smirk at the words ‘a lot more than a fling’ and palmed Scully’s fingers, giving them a gentle squeeze, making the briefest, requisite eye contact.

                “The day you were both removed from the X Files on an official basis,” Skinner looked up at Arlene as she came back with two whiskey sours, sliding one into his field of vision as she sat down next to him. “I’ve always known, and felt, that you two had a connection that set you apart from every team I have ever encountered to the detriment of my own sanity but Vegas set something into motion that had me seeing just how much you’ll risk to be each other’s saving grace—and I would break protocol to make sure that you could.”

                Arlene could see him struggling, openly, with the words as she took a sip of her drink and squeezed the space between his index and thumb, looking at him while addressing Mulder and Scully. “I’m the one that keeps bringing you up. We only ever talked about how much you two seemed so determined to either hide how you feel or run from it—but every person with at least a couple of brain cells to rub together could see exactly how much fire you’d both run through to protect the other. It takes a real dumbass to bet against the chances of you two ending up finding a closet, eventually.”

                “Wait, should we really be sitting on any of your office chairs anymore, Skinner?” Mulder blurted it out and nearly caused Scully to spit out her drink as she had another mouthful ready to swallow. “Well, I mean, it’s a logical question.”

                Scully checked herself over for any errant liquids along the front of her shirt and swallowed hard, swatting Mulder across the bicep. “We’re all having a serious discussion and your brain immediately had to go straight to that? Wait…oh, God….really, Skinner?!”

                Arlene was humming along to the music overhead and hiding an awfully large grin from behind her glass as she took a big swig of her drink. “This bartender really knows how to make a strong drink doesn’t he?”

                “I don’t know that this is really something I need to discuss with former subordinates,” Skinner tried to ignore the ridiculous giggle that left Arlene’s lips as he talked, not helping him at all with deflecting the conversation away from their sexual interaction.

                “I’m pretty sure you deserve every second of this interrogation when you walked up so carelessly on a pretty handsy grope session, interrupting a considerable handful of ass, which was very rude,” Mulder was laying it on thick as he took a healthy swallow of his drink as he watched Skinner’s jaw clench and his ass shift around on the leather, making it move just enough to jostle the drink in Arlene’s hand. “In the FBI building…in an office with a tricky lock on it? Nicely done, Skinman.”

                “You’re deprave,” Skinner was hiding the shit eating grin behind the drink as he glanced at Arlene, who was avoiding the actual discussion entirely.

                “For the benefit of my sanity, t topic of touching my ass really doesn’t need to become a thing right now,” Scully made a face and gave her drink a little swirl before taking another swig, letting the tequila burn just enough before swallowing. “Tonight has been more than a little…enlightening, to say the very least.”

                “Understatement of the year,” Arlene sipped her drink and kept it up by her lips, almost running the rim of the glass along her bottom lip as her eyes shifted from Mulder to Scully. “So does that mean that you two are finally going to admit that you’re a little more than a little besotted, and not just by those drinks?”

                Arlene’s lack of a filter while her sobriety slipped into the wind was becoming more apparent as she caught them frenetically unaware and unprepared for her rather adept question. Her sharp-witted personality had often taken a backseat to the drama of the typical dailies of the FBI but there was something wise in it as she leaned against the cushions, savoring her victory. Mulder still had Scully’s fingers snugly against his palm, an action that would previously had ended the moment that anyone of familiar presence had entered their space but hadn’t in front of the singularly fuddled Skinner and Arlene. Mulder angled his fingers, clasping her hand in such a way that it garnered a long, slow blink from Scully that ended in her gazing at him as he placed a kiss to the tip of each of her fingers.

                Scully wouldn’t have even noticed that her mouth had opened just a touch, like she was silently inviting him from arm’s length.

                “Hey,” Mulder locked onto that gaze, his eyes slowly blinking as he could hear her inhale audibly.

                Scully had turned pink and her blood pressure spiked as she used the glass to cool a cheek. “Hey.”

                “I’d say that’s a yes,” Skinner had both eyebrows up, his glass angled at his mouth to drink as his field of vision drifted toward Arlene. “Would you say that’s a yes?”

                “Without a doubt, that’s a hell yes,” Arlene crossed her legs and leaned against Skinner, winking at him as she patted his knee. “They can’t even try to deny it and if they did…they forget that I’ve been watching them for years with my mouth shut and my ears open. I’m always aware of just how many times they look at each other when they think no one is watching.”

                “Voyeuristic little pervert, what a match you’ve made,” Mulder feigned being shocked and finished his drink before licking his lips as he glanced at Scully, who was still holding her glass. “Are you nearly done with that? We can let these two kids keep playing…alone.”

                “The description is observant and voyeuristic—the information is both useful and titillating, Mulder,” Arlene chimed in as Scully was finishing her drink, nearly choking on it as the word ‘titillating’ left Arlene’s mouth with such ease. “The little pervert part…I really have no argument on that one.”

                Skinner watched the stunned look on Mulder’s face as Arlene’s gutsy comment was still unfolding like a flower at dawn. “I don’t know about you two but I’m guessing forgetting about this conversation isn’t going to be an easy thing to accomplish.”

                “Something tells me that you and little miss ‘observant and voyeuristic’ are going to take every opportunity until we’re dead to remind us of it even if we tried,” Mulder stood and offered his hand to Scully after gathering his work jacket from the couch, a hint of a smile hiding on his lips as he looked down at her. “You ready?”

                “Absolutely,” Scully set her glass on the table top, wrapped her arm around her own jacket and stood up next to him, the warmth of his fingers competing with the sensation of the alcohol coursing through her as she glanced at Skinner and Arlene. “Are you two going to play nice or are we going to have to separate you?”

                “Define nice?” Skinner had his arm around Arlene as Mulder was carefully guiding Scully toward the stepdown from the lounge area. “I’d say behave yourselves but that might be just a little restrictive under the circumstance.”

                “Just a little,” Mulder held up his index and thumb, barely leaving daylight between them as he demonstrated the motion while Scully pulled on her jacket. “Have fun, kids.”

                Skinner and Arlene wouldn’t have necessarily minded an extended social interaction with Mulder and Scully but they could see the hints of affinity brewing even in the briefest moments of silence. Mulder led Scully to the bar where he paid their tab and exchanged a couple of handshakes with the bartender, who he had already previously been on a first name basis with, before weaving through the developing crowd of people on the way down the stairs. Mulder had Scully’s hands along his back as they got down to the bottom of the steps, her grip midway up his back and a laugh to follow as he stopped suddenly, letting her bump into him. He stayed in that spot until she elevated to her tiptoes, squeezing his musculature along his back while placing a breathy, giggle laced kiss against the side of his neck. Scully rolled her eyes as Mulder grasped her hand and finally pushed the door open, leading them out onto the sidewalk, as the street lamps had replaced the sun with a subtle, haloed glow that lit each section like a spotlight.

                “Are you really ready?” Mulder spotted a cab sliding forward toward them as Scully had her arms around him, looking up at him.

                “Wasn’t there an Eddie Money song that had this moment nicely illustrated and set up for you?” Scully looked only briefly at the cab before nibbling on the corner of her lip, amassing the last of her thoughts as she continued.

                Mulder hesitated, giving her a light kiss while the cab finally came to a full stop next to them, the brakes just barely squeaking as the driver shifted into park. “I think you’re going to have to elaborate on that one for me, Scully.”

                Scully smirked as he reached for the handle of the backseat of the cab, capturing his attention once again as he peeked back at her while she said the words with a certain level of confidence. “Take me home tonight…”

               

 

Sometimes I cry my heart to sleep

Nothing prepared me for your smile

Lighting the darkness of my soul

Innocence in your arms

Throw me down, ah

-David Bowie & Reeves Gabrels

“Thursday’s Child”

 

 

30 Minutes later

Outside Scully’s apartment building

 

                Scully stood on the sidewalk as Mulder closed the door of the cab, a whisper of swelling along her pout as she pressed her lips together, the redness deepening while she ran her fingers through her hair. Mulder didn’t even allow her to lean forward to pay as he moved more than enough money into the driver’s hand, ignoring the man’s rather overt, broad smile that had been on his face since the first red light. Scully knew what it meant and couldn’t help but smile as she glanced at the popped button at the top of her shirt, the edge of her bra just barely peeking free as Mulder turned around to greet her. They had been pawing at each other despite knowing full well that the driver was getting an eye full and not caring that every second they spent ramping each other up would direct them to this moment of having to decide if this is exactly what they wanted—and if the stars had truly aligned to give them every second to make the moment ahead count.

                Mulder’s eyes shined as the streetlamps caught the angle just right as he approached her, both with their feet ready to push the gas pedal right there at the bottom of the steps.

                “Did you see the look on that man’s face?” Scully welcomed him into her bubble as his arms found her back, giving her a generous enough squeeze that she came up off of the cement just enough to be very aware of a budding erection pressing against her. “Oh…my…hello, again…would you and your friend like to keep walking inside before everyone with a street view gets a little more than they bargained for on their Friday night?”

                Mulder’s lips were too close to her earlobe, his breath creeping down her neck as he kept her up on the tips of her toes for a moment while his hands drifted to her ass, inveigling a low groan from her. “I don’t know, you didn’t seem to mind an audience at the bar or in the cab, Scully, and this is a considerably better angle to get both hands on you.”

                Scully wrapped her arms around his shoulders, fingers running through his hair until he was making eye contact with her and could see exactly how much of a desire she held for him. “I know how many of them are trigger-happy with dialing 9-1-1 and I really don’t want to get arrested tonight…not when I know what you’re hiding under those perfectly fitting, designer pants you’re wearing.”

                “Perfectly fitting? You flatter me,” Mulder didn’t want to take his hands off of her backside but the lure of getting her inside was becoming more and more attractive by the second as he allowed her to lead the way up toward the door. “I think we already dodged one bullet tonight in that regard when you tried to rob me of my belt in the cab—and said it nice and loud that I didn’t need it anymore.”

                Scully pushed the door open to the main hallway and licked her lips as she turned to let him pass, purposely positioning herself to where he had no option but to rub up against her. “I think our driver was nearly as into it as you were considering he purposely turned down the wrong street to add an extra mile to the fare and turned off his meter when he did.”

                “Do I even want to know how you even noticed that?” Mulder laughed as the main door shut behind them with a snap, peeking at her ass as she went for her front door and slid her hand into her jacket to find her keys. “Because, that’s not something I’d picture you paying attention to.”

                “I notice a lot of things, Mulder, especially when I’m trying to make absolutely certain that my skirt hasn’t hiked up high enough to let everyone know what color underwear I’m wearing,” Scully turned the key and the handle simultaneously, opening the door like it was a passageway to some secretive place as she started to back into the room, chewing on her bottom lip as she gazed at him. “Any second thoughts?”

                Mulder wasn’t far behind as he followed, pulling the key free from the open door before closing it so he could painstakingly reach up to lock it, never once taking his stare off of her, the tension building. “Not even a little bit…are you having any?”

                Scully shook her head as her heels were carrying her toward the couch in any attempt to get him to come closer just a little quicker than he was currently going. “My mind is only on seeing exactly how long it takes you to come over here.”

                Even in the near darkness of her apartment, they could see each other’s seductive, beckoning, fixated looks lighting a pathway in the dim as Scully slid out of her jacket and discarded it across the back of a chair at the table. Mulder removed his jacket, heat rising with every second as he could feel his heart thudding against his chest purely from watching her move, observing the corner of her lip skim between her teeth and stay there after wetting her lips. Scully was better at this than he had actually contemplated the possibility of as he felt the erection push against his boxers and his zipper, twitching enough to make him severely aware of just how long he’d been walking around like that. Mulder was incontrovertibly nervous that he couldn’t quite tell that Scully was actually quelling her own set of anxieties by biting down on her own lip, her tongue pushed against her teeth to keep from shaking or noticing the growing heat and wetness between her thighs.

                “Has anyone ever told you that you inflict weakness in the strongest of men, Scully?” Mulder was loosening his tie as he closed the gap between them, leaving only a few feet between them as Scully’s backside finally bumped against the couch. “That a singular look is like being set to slowly burn from the inside out?”

                “Considering your absolute abhorrence for fire…I’m really shocked that you’d use that description. Should I be worried or flattered?” Scully swallowed hard and fanned out her fingers along the back of the couch for balance as she felt every nerve scream at her with the presence of his cologne in her bubble.

                Scully’s fingers searching for balance found the remote that she had left out the night before, inadvertently pressing a series of buttons until the spinning clatter of a CD beginning nearly killed the mood entirely. Mulder glanced toward the glow of the stereo for only a moment and shook his head as the melody began to play. David Bowie couldn’t have been a more apt choice as the sound of Thursday’s Child filled the room with an equally slow seduction that had both of them contemplating each other with deep regard—like it was some unbelievable, messy sign that had been thrown their way.

                “Flattered, very, very…flattered,” Mulder tugged his tie free and abandoned it on the floor, not even caring that he’d have to go locating it later as his thighs touched hers, pushing her even further against the couch. “Well?”

                Scully could feel her own knees going weak as she reached out to hold onto his belt after trying to remove it rather hastily in the cab, her heart beating into her throat as she could feel every bit of him spasm against her. “No one has ever informed me of anything like that—but it wouldn’t have made a difference because they’re not you saying it to me, showing me, reminding me.”

                The clicking of metal on metal took Mulder’s focus off of maintaining that palpable gaze with Scully as he glanced down just as she had drawn his belt off in one, smooth motion and still had it between her fingers like a child caught getting a cookie without permission. “You’re going to develop a significantly better nickname than Ice Queen or Mrs. Spooky with smooth moves like that, Scully…”

                “Haven’t you learned by now, Mulder, that I’m full of surprises?” Scully could feel another wave of pure, white heat drive through her with the presence of his hands against her hips as she draped the belt across the back of the couch and tugged him closer by his shirt, bringing his mouth to hers in a fevered kiss as she slipped her tongue past lips and teeth, lighting a fire with every breath exchanged.

                Mulder reacted with a fleeting sense of ache, meeting that kiss with an equal magnitude that nearly knocked Scully off of her feet as she grasped his belt loops to hold onto him, inadvertently parting her knees to accommodate him against her better. The fervor had been unyielding and unsatisfied for far too long as Mulder’s fingers slid along the front of Scully’s shirt, deftly popping button after button free with his thumbs while his mouth continued to explore hers. They had barely begun to touch one another but Scully’s breaths were already coming in short bursts along with intermittent moans that only deepened against his mouth as he drank her in. He was tentative in the motion out of the blind action as both were half rocking into each other, intentionally grinding against each other as the awareness of the heat radiating off of one another was heightening. The ragged moan that rattled into his mouth was considerable as he raked his fingers underneath the fully unbuttoned shirt at the shoulders, dragging it down her arms until it was bunched around her elbows.

                Their lips popped free and the remnant of Scully’s vocalization only had Mulder heavily breathing as he hovered just inches from her mouth while his fingers grazed the exposed skin just below her bra, thumbs nimbly stirring across her breasts, nipples pushing through the lacy material. “Fuck…do you see what you do to me?”

                “Ahhh…God…” Scully was still panting but she could feel his erection pushing against her bunched up skirt, her voice a little ragged as she glanced down, her own chest heaving between them. “See…feel…I don’t know if you understand what you’re doing to me.”

                “That sound you make—it kills me,” Mulder tilted her chin up to regain that brilliant gaze with her as he lifted her onto the back of the couch, nimbly adjusting his positioning until her thighs surrounded his hips and her skirt had nearly exposed everything beneath. “I have spent so many nights wondering what this moment would be like, Scully…”

                “Is the result terribly disappointing?” Scully had a coy, little smile on her face until Mulder’s teeth grazed her neck in time with the moment that his right hand found already soaking wet panties, rubbing just enough to prevail on a rather throaty whimper as she bucked her hips forward, against his palm. “Oh! Mulder, Jesus Christ…Mmmm, please…”

                “No way in hell…so much better than every single expectation,” Mulder nibbled a trail from her shoulder to her earlobe while his fingers continued to stroke her over the thin, almost silky panties, making the wet spot that much more apparent while he gripped her thigh with his free hand. “A guy can only wake up so many times, aimed and primed straight at the ceiling after groaning your name to nothing but the walls, and wonder if you’re not doing the same thing at the same time, just as sweaty, just as shaky…I mean, fuck…maybe it’s just a pipe dream, Scully.”

                Mulder’s fingers had been slowly circling as his thumb dragged under the material, easing into unbridled heat and wetness that sent her head back and a moan into the air, fingers gripping his arm as she held on for dear life. “I did…I did, so many times…fuck…so many times! Oh, my God…Mulder.”

                “Don’t fight it, just let it happen, Scully,” Mulder’s fingers were playing her like a careful instrument, strumming her against resistance as he guided his index and middle finger beyond the barrier of her panties, inviting her eyes back to his with a squeeze of her inner thigh. “Come.”

                “Trying to guarantee I’ll never be able to look at my couch the same way again, Mulder?” Scully was close in spite of herself as she half spasmed against his hand, wanting nothing more than to wrap her fingers around him as his middle finger and index were already tuning her, thumb plucking at the swollen, excruciatingly ready clit that had started to kiss the air. “You’re wearing too many clothes…and so am I.”

                “Then…come,” Mulder purposely teased his thumb across her clit while pumping torturously slow with his middle and index fingers, soliciting a yelp as Scully dug her fingers into his arms until she was nearly shaking. “I promise I’ve got you…”

                It wasn’t the impression of his tenderness or being instructed to give in to those urges that sent Scully careening over the edge but imagining a destination of being in his arms with nothing left between them but the most miniscule amount of air. They had been enfolded in a mutual rapture that had been left swinging from a pendulum, reminding them of what lay at arm’s length, waiting for them. Scully dragged her fingers down his arm until she met wrist, lingering there for a moment as she licked her lips and met gazes with him, directing him, leading him, until she knew that he was paying full attention to the silent cues. Mulder’s heart nearly stopped as he watched Scully shift her shirt the rest of the way off and throw it in the general direction of a throw pillow behind her, the sweat forming along her forehead while she held onto him, fingers tightly gripped along the sleeve of his shirt.

                “Mmmuuulder…I’m…” Scully almost didn’t recognize the sound of her own voice as Mulder’s name became an incantation rising from her lungs, inciting a feeling that had never been felt in quite that way as she felt every nerve ending simultaneously let go and shake against his fingers, gripping him tighter, opening the figurative floodgate. “Ohhh! Don’t stop, don’t stop...there!”

                Mulder couldn’t have dreamed that sound into life as the downhill turn of Scully’s orgasm ended with a whimper that rivaled any moan as he slowly, nearly unbearably withdrew each digit until he felt the last full body shudder against him as she held onto him. “Well, one thing is definitely for certain…you just made a mess of a lot more than your underwear, Scully.”

                “I’d say that you might’ve been  aiming for that, deep down,” Scully had a devious, yet aloof smile across her lips as she untucked his shirt and went to work on each button, revealing a little more of him until she reached the bottom. “Do you have any idea how many times I have wanted to know what this moment was going to feel like, Mulder?”

                “Judging by the look in your eyes, as many as I have,” Mulder nipped at her bottom lip as she relieved him of his shirt and let it fall into the same general direction as her own, creating a veritable mine field in her own living room. “Stand up.”

                Scully placed her feet on the floor and felt her knees giving like jelly as she put her weight onto them, watching as Mulder began to kneel in front of her, kissing a trail from her neck all the way down toward the smooth expanse of her stomach. Scully was intent on maintaining concentration as she watched him, her bottom lip sliding back and forth between her teeth, alternating corners as she ran her fingers through his hair. Mulder looked up at her as he spun closure of the skirt to the front, unhooking the top before unzipping it, notch by notch, until he was able to slide it free of her legs. The desired effect of the air touching her everywhere was attained as he felt the convulsion precede the trail of gooseflesh along with a low, groan as she gripped the couch for balance.

                So, this is what it feels like to be thoroughly teased.

She inhaled sharply as she felt each garter hook snap free until the final one snapped against her ass with a little bit of an extra crack that sent an electric shock through her entire pelvis and up her back, the red mark visible within seconds.

                “Fuck!” Scully gasped as Mulder had to hold her up as both knees knocked together from the rush of energy that went through her, shocked that something that happened before managed to reverberate with such intensity.

                “I’m so sorry,” Mulder was rubbing the spot and trying not to allow the raging erection rule him as he had his face dangerously close to her already searing heat. “Are you okay?”

                Scully nodded eagerly and felt the entire belt slide free, the chill of the air breathing life along every exposed bit of flesh that she hadn’t been used to allowing anyone to linger over, let alone from this vantage as she slid her hand along his forehead. “You’re still wearing too many clothes.”

                Mulder knew exactly what he was doing as he guided her out of her heels before giving her thigh highs a moderate tug, sliding them down one at a time until the only her bra and panties remained clinging to her body. He looked up at her for another moment, admiring the unusually elegant, soft, and sexually aware sight of her as she blushed over the discernment, before rising to his feet to find her mouth once more. The passion unfolded, melted between them as he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her backside and elevating her until her toes barely touched the floor, the suggestive melody still playing around them like a strange, necessary accelerant as they unintentionally hummed into one another’s mouth. Mulder had been so careful in his seduction as he effortlessly stepped out of his shoes followed by his socks as he lifted Scully completely off of the ground, maneuvering her thighs high up on his hips until her lips popped free from their kiss. He reached up to tuck an errant hair behind her ear and lavished her with another soft lip lock before carrying her toward her bedroom.

                “As you can see, we’re 100% even now…” Mulder smirked at her as he positioned her knees on the top of the bed and winked at her as he backed up just a little, wanting to drink in the spectacular vision that she always had been as she shifted her weight while balancing on the top of the bed. “Jesus Christ, you’re beautiful.”

                Mulder hadn’t even begun to understand the magnitude of joke he had just made as she grasped him by the waistband, pulling him back as inhaled a deep breath and overtly licked her lips. “And you…are a tease that left a red mark on my ass.”

                “Oh…wait…you do know that I see how you are with the spoon and your God damn yogurt in the bullpen, Scully, don’t be mean,” Scully had him unzipped and trapped at the knees by his pants as she kept a hand against his boxers, running a hand along the obviously pulsating erection barely caught inside of the flimsy material. “Holy fuck!”

                Scully dragged her lips along his abs, barely touching his skin, while her fingers teased the spot above his boxers. Mulder was wavering much worse than she had been when he found that wet, aching mound of pure heat between her legs and she certainly knew it as she slipped her fingers into his boxers and gripped his cock until he vocalized over the top of her head. Mulder had an instant worry of going off like a Roman candle before he even fully stepped out of his pants as he felt his hard on start to throb between her fingers. She didn’t know how badly he wanted her to keep going but the mental capacity to control the speed was completely gone as he could already feel the end knocking, waiting, imminent. The panting was horrendous, and bordering on loud, as he managed to stop her just as she was dipping lower with her mouth, creeping to that point of no return as he pressed himself against her.

                I need you, right now. Their thoughts were unified, molded into one as mouths touched for the briefest of seconds, breathing in one another as they looked into one another, as restlessness came alive.

                They didn’t need to say anything as the thunderous beating of their hearts against one another’s chest was evident and wild, the path clear as Mulder kicked out of his pants like a wild animal just as Scully singularly unhooked her bra with a demonstration of agility that would’ve impressed him on any day. The dark outside had returned the room to a near darkness, the soft glow of streetlamps outside peeking through the gaps in the curtains as Scully scooted backwards, shoving the blankets out of her way until Mulder was up on the bed, mouth alive with the most precious of kisses destined for every surface of her skin as her head touched the pillow. Neither of them had even noticed that the stereo had been playing the same song on repeat since they had begun, the lyrics “only for you I don’t regret” standing out as Mulder gathered his fingers along the elastic waist of Scully’s panties, guiding them down and off to join the little pile of clothes on the floor. He wasn’t prepared for her but he was ready for her as he felt her hands tugging at his shorts, urging him on, the hunger building in her eyes as she met his mouth in mid-air, gathering her fingers through his hair as he kicked away his boxers.

                Mulder created a space between their mouths as held his breath for a moment, hovering over Scully as she traced a line along his cheek with her index finger. “All this time I’ve been looking for something that has been right in front of me the entire time…How do I make it up to you?”

                “You’re already halfway there,” Scully kissed his bottom lip and ran her fingertips down his back, letting her nails awaken the goosebumps in their wake. “Don’t stop until we’re both too weak to move…and leave me with no regrets.”

                Not another moment elapsed before they finally collided, their bodies finding each other’s heat in a slow, exquisite rhythm that only they could possibly have possessed for the other. Scully finally felt each second of hellishness evaporate into nothing more than a memory as Mulder memorized every little moan, every little quiver from the inside out, and every moment that his name left her mouth like a declarative, a constant, a yearning that only drove him further, faster, harder. Mulder had been hiding a way to let her in for far too long as her legs wrapped tighter and fingers dug him deeper along his back, the craving more like an unyielding thirst as he drove into her, their moans muffled only by scattered kisses. Everything fell into place as the room half shook, the headboard thudded against the wall, and the world went hazy for both of them—by chance, by some luck of the constellations.

                By the ache that rested in their healing, ever so mistreated hearts that had found the missing pieces within the other.

Notes:

Songs Mentioned:
Come on Eileen - Dexy's Midnight Runners (if you're not giggling, I'm judging you)
Take me home tonight - Eddie Money
Thursday's Child - David Bowie

I just have to say this now that you've come to the wild and crazy end of this one - thank you to everyone who came, saw, and conquered this intense bit of reading. I know it's a lot but Greta inspired me and I just went with it, guns blazing. The subject matter surrounds me daily living in Las Vegas and it was a problem, even then, so this was something I knew I could and needed to touch on--even to end with such a torrid love affair. I hope you loved it, Greta, I truly hope.

Monika and Crystal...you have no idea how much I needed your words and feedback throughout the past few weeks. Monika, you kept me from essentially giving up on myself and I don't know how to say thank you in the right way. Crystal, knowing that you saw even a snippet of this and loved it--made me glad that I was finishing it.

To everyone that finishes and leaves kudos and comments...you are essential. Please know I love each and every one of you.

Notes:

***The sad fact is that this is a PSA of sorts...I reside in a city with one of the highest statistics on sex trafficking (to this day), this subject matter may start off hard but I always lead it to a good place.***

Chapter one reference made:
Reba McIntyre - Fancy

 

***Follow me on the journey and fall in love with them as I have.***