Title: The Conquest of Fear Author: Catherine Earnshaw Email: cathy.earnshaw@gmail.com (feedback welcome, and very much anticipated) Rating: NC-17 Archive: I'll send it to Ephemeral and Gossamer myself. Anywhere else, I'll be thrilled and honored. Just let me know where. Category: RST, Post-Ep Pairings: Mulder/Scully Spoilers: Irresistible, first/early second seasons in general Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully and the X-Files belong to Chris Carter and 1013 Productions. But they'd be nothing without David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson. I mean no copyright infringement with my story; I just love them too much to let go of them. Summary: The aftermath of the Pfaster case. Written for Fandomonium's "A Virtual Season of Smut - Season Two" Challenge. All Second Season stories can be found here: http://www.fandomonium.com/ I received an incredible amount of feedback for my first story, "After Aubrey". I would like to thank everyone who took the time and trouble to send me a message and share their thoughts. This one is dedicated to all of you. Very special thanks to my super beta team, Mimic117 and Cybill, for their invaluable support and friendship. And, as always, to my best philer-friends, Glaucia and Juliane. *** "By our first strange and fatal interview, By all desires which thereof did ensue, By our long starving hopes, by that remorse Which my words' masculine persuasive force Begot in thee, and by the memory Of hurts, which spies and rivals threatened me, I calmly beg: but by thy father's wrath, By all pains, which want and divorcement hath, I conjure thee, and all the oaths which I And thou have sworn to seal joint constancy, Here I unswear, and overswear them thus, Thou shalt not love by ways so dangerous." John Donne *** Minneapolis, MN He had brought her back from the gates of death once more. Scully had been able to control herself until Mulder put a finger under her chin and gently tipped it up, forcing her to meet his gaze. That's when the dam broke. The affection and concern displayed in his eyes were unmistakable, and she couldn't resist their pull. She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed. For once, she couldn't care less about exposing her feelings, her vulnerability. She needed to feel safe. The ordeal she had just gone through had drained all her strength, and it was a relief to find some comfort in her partner's embrace. She could feel his hands on her, one holding her back, the other stroking her hair. She circled his waist with trembling arms and held onto him. "It's alright," he murmured. "It's over, Scully, he can't hurt you anymore." The case had disturbed her from the very beginning, and even though she tried hard to hide her utter distress from Mulder, he read right through her steadfast facade. He made that very clear in the jail house. "I just don't want you to think you have to hide anything from me, Scully. I've seen agents with twenty years in the field fall apart on cases like this." He wanted her to know it was okay to feel afraid, but she had stubbornly insisted she was "fine." It wasn't a matter of self-assurance to Scully. She wasn't arrogant or conceited. But she had fought hard through medical school and the FBI Academy to prove herself worthy, and it was really hard for her to let her guard down. As she raised her head to look at Mulder's face, she could see that he would never be judgmental or prejudiced. She could trust him with her life, indeed. He wiped the tears from her face with the pad of his thumbs. "Scully?" She managed to give him a faint smile. "I'm fine, Mulder." He chuckled softly. "No, you're not. But you will be. Come on, let me get you out of here." He broke their embrace, but kept a protective arm around her shoulders. She flexed her fingers to help restore circulation, and Mulder tightened his grip on her. Scully was at last able to take in the scene around her. Agent Bocks yelled orders at the forensic team while the police led Pfaster out the door. They wouldn't need too much to lock that psycho up. He had been caught in the act and Scully would most certainly testify, but gathering evidence was a necessary task. She tensed when remembering that if Mulder had taken just a little longer to bring the cavalry, they would be in need of a coroner instead of an ambulance. Bocks caught her eye and ran over to them, an apologetic expression on his kind face. "Agent Scully. I'm so sorry for all this. How are you feeling?" "I'll be fine, Agent Bocks. I just want to go home now." "You do that, young lady. I have to thank you both. We would never have caught this maniac if it weren't for you. The city of Minneapolis owes you big time," he said. Scully couldn't help but smile at the old-fashioned statement. "I'll take Agent Scully to the hospital," said Mulder. "Then she'll give her statement. I want to catch the first plane to D.C. in the morning." "Mulder, no hospital, I'm okay," she protested. "This is non-negotiable, Scully. You have to see a doctor. Besides, they will want to-- well, take some pictures of you, you know." Of course. The standard evidence photos needed for the record. She had forgotten. God, it was hard to play the role of the victim. "Let's go, then," she said. "I can't wait to get home." *** Mulder paced up and down the corridor while a nurse tended to the cuts and bruises on Scully's face and wrists. She had barely moved in the car, on the way to the hospital, and he could see she was trying hard to fight her exhaustion, but her night was far from over. She would have to go to the police station to give a statement, and Mulder was seriously concerned. He knew his partner well. She put on a brave face, did what she had to do, and moved on, never saying anything beyond "I'm fine". But Mulder knew that "fine" was the last word one could use to describe her just now. Mulder sometimes wished he hadn't quit smoking. A nice, deep nicotine drag would do wonders for his shattered nerves. Flashes of the past months came to his mind like one of his slideshows: Brother Andrew. Jack Willis. Tooms. Duane Barry. Her life had been endangered so many times since she had been assigned to the X-Files. The personal price she was paying to keep the division open was pushing all his guilt buttons at once. Scully wouldn't acknowledge that, of course. She'd say it was all in the job description. Occupational hazards. But facts were facts. She had been in death's grip more often in less than two years than your average FBI agent would've been in twenty. Pfaster was different, though. She had collapsed right before Mulder's eyes. His brave, strong partner had dissolved in tears in front of the whole task force, shielded only by his taller frame. Mulder wasn't sure if he'd been angrier to see Scully's lovely face marred by bruises, or wet with tears. It humbled him that she could trust him enough with her vulnerability. That she knew he was her partner in the truest sense of the word, and would never hold it against her. He shivered at the thought that she could be dead if he'd arrived two minutes later. Mulder knew he was in love with Scully. He had taken a long time to accept the concept, especially the part where it was clear she would never feel the same. He knew she cared for him. She had gone to great lengths, deceiving their FBI superiors and putting her career in jeopardy to save his life in Puerto Rico. She had always been ready to help him on a case even when their partnership had been severed, during those awful months when the X-Files were closed and he was stuck on wiretap detail. She had been there, just a call away. Then she had taken her place back beside him, after her abduction, when safely teaching at Quantico was still an option. He had watched the naive young agent who came into his office not so long ago turn into a more mature, less innocent woman. She had seen too much in the past two years, but nevertheless kept her unwavering strength of character and astounding honesty. Mulder wasn't only in love with her, he was in awe of her. They bickered, and ranted, and disagreed, and sometimes irritated the hell out of each other, yet she was always by his side. But he had no reason to believe her feelings for him went beyond the strictly friendly and professional. He also knew he was selfish. The best course of action would be to request a transfer for her. As the senior agent in the department, he was entitled. She would get mad, but she'd be safe. Skinner would probably be relieved. But Mulder couldn't bring himself to push her away. She was his anchor. Without her, he'd drift away. *** Washington, DC Scully's apartment The following evening He busied himself making some tea, but kept an ear on the sounds coming from the bathroom. The sight of a scared Scully terrified him. The mere fact that she had consented to his staying at her apartment was disturbing, but he wasn't complaining. There was no way in hell he would leave her alone. The sharp sound of shattering glass made him jump. It didn't take him more than two seconds to get to her. Scully was in her robe, holding the cap from a bottle of bath oil, which was now in pieces all over the floor. "Step aside, Scully. You'll cut your feet," he said softly, crouching down and collecting the shards of glass from the floor. "I can't get in," she said, a mix of sadness and irritation in her voice. "Scully--" "I can't get in. All I can think about is his hands on me and that horrible voice asking whether my hair was normal or dry. I can't take a bath in my own home!" "Why don't you take a shower? That'd make you feel better. Would you like some tea? You haven't eaten anything since breakfast." Mulder knew he was hovering, but couldn't help himself. He hated to see Scully so upset. "I'm not hungry. I just want to get clean and go to sleep." "I think we should talk." "Mulder--" "Scully, don't tell me you're fine." The look on her face was a mix of annoyance and tenderness. He knew she needed to talk about her ordeal, and tonight probably wouldn't be the best time, but she had to accept the idea. He'd convince her to seek counseling if she refused to talk to him, but he believed she would cave if he was just a little bit more forceful. Not now, though. "I'm tired, Mulder," she said. "I'll see about that tea. It'll help you sleep." He turned his back to her and was about to close the door when her voice stopped him. "Mulder?" "Yeah?" "Thank you." He nodded and went to the kitchen. *** Scully stepped into the shower and reveled in the feeling of warm water over her abused muscles. Her back, abdomen and legs were covered in bruises from her fall down the stairs. She ached all over. She really wished she could take a bath, but the mere sight of the tub sent shivers down her spine. She shampooed her hair and the familiar scent wafted around her, making her feel comfortable. She pushed the thoughts of Pfaster aside. Scully could hear the little noises Mulder was making in the kitchen and she wondered if he was being deliberately clumsy just to let her know he was around. His hovering was a bit irritating, yes, but she had to admit there was an endearing quality to it. He was blaming himself, when he should be proud of his leaps of logic - after all, if it weren't for his profile, the police would have never gotten to her in time. After carefully rinsing her hair, she turned off the faucet and stepped out in the cool air. Goosebumps prickled all over her skin, and Scully wrapped herself in a fluffy towel. She walked into her bedroom and put on some plain white panties and a nice pair of silky lime-green pajamas. She was just finishing combing her hair when she heard a soft knock on the door. "Scully? I brought you that tea." Mulder had changed from his travel suit to a Knicks T-shirt and faded jeans, and she could hear the TV in her living room. The sports highlights, from the sound of it. She looked down at the tray which contained a steaming cup of tea, a small plate of toast and a peeled orange. The soothing aroma of chamomile floated out of the cup. Oh, Mulder. Bless your heart. "Thank you," she said, taking the tray from his hands and putting it on the bed. "You didn't have to." "I wanted to." He shuffled his feet, somewhat nervously. "Well, goodnight. I'll see you tomorrow, Scully." "Goodnight, Mulder." *** He woke up in the middle of the night, disoriented, finding Scully hovering over him. "Hi," she said. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." "Hi," he muttered, blinking and trying to refocus. "What time is it? Why are you up?" "Couldn't sleep," she said, biting her lip. "I kept tossing and turning. Guess it's about three." She had a blanket around her shoulders, but was barefoot. The only light in the room came from the muted TV, but he could see she was shaking a little, even though he had turned the heat on while she was in the shower earlier. It was freezing outside, but the apartment was actually warm. He sat up, making room for her on the couch. "Come here, Scully, sit down. Do you want me to get you some more tea?" He moved to stand up, but she shook her head and put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. "Mulder?" She sounded unsure. "Yes, Scully?" "Would you hold me for awhile?" Her request took him aback, but Mulder didn't say a word. He pulled her into his arms and held her close. She sat sideways on his lap, her head on his shoulder. One of his hands stroked her still damp hair softly. It was soothing, comforting. She lifted her head and looked at him. He raised a tentative hand to her face and traced her quivering lips with his fingers. The scratches on her chin were still raw, and he mentally cursed Pfaster for the hundredth time. She was still shivering under the blanket, and Mulder suspected it wasn't from the cold. He wondered if she was in shock. Scully started tracing the contour of his jaw with a manicured finger. A wave of tenderness washed over him and all of a sudden he just had to kiss her. He didn't mean it to be anything more than a tender caress. An affectionate touch. He brought his hands up to frame her face and pressed his lips to hers, his eyelids fluttering shut. It was sweet and chaste and she didn't push him away. He opened his eyes and saw hers still closed, her cheeks flushed pink. He decided to go for broke and kissed her again. This time he lingered on just a little longer. Then she opened her mouth under his, and all hell broke loose. Mulder suddenly found himself trapped under Scully's tiny body, her mouth devouring his, her hands stroking his sides under his T-shirt. He was too stupefied to react. She let go of him for a moment, shaking her head. "Work with me here, Mulder, come on," she whispered. His hands went to the buttons of her pajama top as if on automatic pilot. He was hesitant at first, but her reassuring smile and deft hands gave him the green light. Scully lifted the hem of his T-shirt and he helped her pull it off. She was drawing shallow breaths and her chest was heaving. He looked at her scrubbed clean face and her mussed hair and she had never looked more beautiful to him. Her little doctor hands knew exactly where to touch and what to do. They danced across his chest, down to his stomach, around his back and up to his shoulders. He pulled her against him and kissed her hungrily. He had craved her mouth for months and just couldn't have enough of it now. He was drowning in her, she tasted of chamomile and toothpaste and orange and he loved every flavor in her mouth. She was clearly as far gone as himself, if her racing heartbeat was any indication. She broke the kiss and whispered, "I want you, Mulder," in his ear. Her hand found his belt buckle and worked it open with a flick of her wrist. It took all of his self-control not to throw her on the floor and bury himself within her. That would have to wait. As much as he wanted her, she would have to set the pace. Mulder was terribly afraid she was acting out of shock and that he'd be taking advantage. At the same time, he knew Scully didn't do anything she wasn't a hundred percent sure of. It wasn't his place to question her decisions, was it? How could he deny her anything she wanted? The mere thought that she could want him was dumbfounding to say the least. His train of thought was broken by a stern "Mulder." He focused back on her face, alarmed. "Scully?" "Would you please stop that?" The question confused him. "Stop... what?" "I can see the wheels turning inside your head. You're thinking so hard it's giving me a headache. Stop." "But, Scully--" "I said stop. Stop analyzing the situation, stop blaming yourself for what you aren't responsible for, and stop trying to profile me. Just stop." He nodded. "Good. Now let me ask you a question. Just give me a yes or no answer. Can you do that for me?" "I think I can do that, yes." "Excellent. Now, remember, only yes or no. Do you want me, Mulder?" He could only stare at her. He was petrified. "Did you hear me, Mulder? Do. You. Want. Me?" "Hell, yes," he croaked. "Then take me to bed. You know the way to the bedroom." He held her face so her eyes were staring right into his. All the reassurance he needed was there. She moved off his lap and stood before him, her open pajama top revealing creamy skin underneath. She lifted up an eyebrow and looked very amused. "Well?" "Give me a minute here, Scully. I'm trying to engrave this moment in my memory." "You have an eidetic memory, Mulder, you don't need a minute. Now, are you going to just stare at me all night long?" She held her hand out to him and he took it, getting up from the couch. Mulder looked down at her, fascinated. He was at his full height, and she was barefoot; she looked so fragile and delicate. But he knew she was stronger than him, and if either of them had control of the situation, she was the one who did. He held her by the waist and hoisted her up. She took his hint and threw her legs around his hips. The contact made him lose his step, and he staggered forward, eventually using the wall to steady himself and trapping her against it. If things continued going at this pace, they'd never make it to the bedroom. Scully latched her mouth to his neck and stroked his bare back with maddeningly slow circular motions. Too much, too fast. "Damn it, Scully. I'm trying to get us to bed here." "So am I," she murmured, kissing his ear. "That was not what I meant," he groaned. He lowered her down to the floor, put an arm under her knees and scooped her up. "Mulder!" "Sorry if this looks old-fashioned, but I can't think of another way to get you in that bed." He opened the door to her bedroom and stepped inside. "Last chance to bolt, Scully." She laced her fingers in the hair on the back of his neck and pulled his head down to kiss him. "Let's get it on, partner." *** Scully still couldn't believe she had actually worked up the nerve to act on her feelings for Mulder. She had thought about them during the trip back from Minneapolis. She played possum on the plane, leaning her head against his shoulder and allowing herself to take comfort in his warmth. Once the initial shock had worn off, she started to question her own actions. She had fought so hard not to let the case get to her, but then... She had become the target, and that gave her a totally different perspective. Karen Kosseff's words to her the day before came back with a vengeance. "You're a very strong person. You've probably always felt you can handle any problem by yourself. But you feel vulnerable now. Do you know why that is?" Scully knew why. Ahab's death, the X-Files being closed down, her abduction. It had been a very stressful year. But she knew even better why she tried to handle everything by herself. She wanted Mulder to see her as an equal. In the very beginning of their partnership he had made such a strong impression on her, she needed to hold back so she wouldn't look like an infatuated schoolgirl. She kept herself in check most of the time, distanced herself even. It hadn't worked. And her newest near-encounter with death had made Scully re-evaluate some of her ideas. It was clear that he had deep feelings for her, but he would never make the first move for fear of rejection. He was insecure that way, which seemed like a spectacular joke to Scully. Didn't the man have a mirror? So she had taken that first step, and, as always, he had been with her every step of the way. *** Mulder wanted her so much it was ridiculous. She had caught him completely off guard, jumping him that way on the couch - not that he was complaining. He put her down on the bed carefully and she looked intently at him as he stared back at her, removing his black jeans. She made a move to take off her pajama pants, but he stopped her. "Let me do it," he said, turning on the bedside table lamp. He leaned over and kissed her while he took his time sliding the garment down her legs. When Mulder stopped to look at her, he abruptly halted the caress on her ribcage. He held his breath, feeling like he was going to pass out. She raised her head. "Mulder? What?" He stared at her legs and abdomen, where blue and purple bruises now marred her perfect skin. He felt tears burning his eyes, and tried hard to control the rage so it wouldn't ruin the moment. "That bastard. That goddamned bastard." She was so tiny. Federal agent or not, she was a small woman. There was a limit to how much abuse she should have to take, he thought. Scully had had more than her fair share. She sat up and stroked his forehead gently. "Mulder, it's okay. I rolled down the stairs while trying to escape. I know they look ugly, but they'll fade away." He clenched his fists, grabbing the bed sheets tightly. "I hate to see you hurt, Scully." "It's a hazard of our job to get hurt. It will happen, to me or to you, eventually. You can't berate yourself for something completely beyond your control," she said, still stroking his face. He touched an especially ugly purple-yellowish spot on her thigh. "I can't help it. I'm sorry. I know you can defend yourself, and you did so at that house, I just wish I had been there earlier." "You were there just in time," she affirmed. She took his face in her hands and forced him to look in her eyes. "I'm alive. I'm here, with you. Nothing else matters." He nodded and pulled her into his arms. "Love you so much." When he realized what he had said, a bolt of panic raced through him. Was it too much? Then she pulled him close and kissed his temple. *** The sudden declaration startled her. Not that she doubted his love for her; she just didn't expect him to put it into words. She fell backwards onto the bed, pulling him with her. His hands moved up and down her sides as he buried his face between her breasts. Moving down the bed and kissing her stomach on the way, he hooked his thumbs in her white panties and tugged. "Lift, Scully," he commanded, and she acquiesced. Now she was completely bared before him, and despite the ugly bruises, the way he was looking at her was nothing short of reverent. She wasn't a vain person, but he made her feel actually beautiful. "Mulder, didn't your mom teach you it's not polite to stare?" "As a matter of fact, she did, but I never listened much to her." Scully laughed. It was a fantastic feeling after the last two days. If she still could laugh, she would be *fine*, indeed. "I'm speechless, Scully. You take my breath away." "I've rendered Fox Mulder speechless. What an achievement." He smiled. It surprised her that they could be a little playful in bed. She'd been afraid they would be nervous, on edge. The easy banter from the office had moved naturally to the bedroom and she loved it. "Well, the least I can do is to return the favor." He covered her body with his and kissed her breasts. Her hands moved to his hair, holding him in place. It was too much, and not enough. It was too slow, and too fast at the same time. There would only be a first time, and she wanted it to last for as long as they could. *** Her shining hair covered the pillow in soft waves. She hadn't blow-dried it after her shower, and it had curled around her ears, giving her a girlish look. She seemed to be a little shy under his close scrutiny, which amused him to no end, after her performance on the couch. She smelled wonderful, tasted even better, and he just couldn't get enough of her. He wanted to take things slow, worship every inch of her, commit every curve of her body to memory, but she wouldn't have that. "You're overdressed, Mulder," she purred. "Lose the boxers so we can get serious here." What do you do, thought Mulder, when you have an aroused Dana Scully in bed and she asks you to get naked? You just comply. He stood up and took his boxers off under Scully's appreciative gaze. "Very impressive piece of equipment, G-man. Now come here and show me you know how to use it." He climbed back on the bed and she pulled him into her arms. Mulder braced himself on his elbows and looked down at Scully in complete awe. "I can't believe this is happening," he said. "I've wanted you for so long." "So take me," she answered, reaching down and caressing his hard-on with a steady hand. It felt divine. "Jesus, Scully." "I want you inside me, now." Her knees framed his hips and she cradled him between her thighs. His heart pounded against his ribcage and he was having difficulty breathing. He gave a tentative push and stopped to gauge her reaction. She surprised the hell out of him when she laced her ankles behind his back and forced him inside all the way. "Shit, Scully, give a guy some warning, will you?" She giggled and ran her hands up his back. "I'm not in the mood for teasing, Mulder. Move." He was still bracing himself on his elbows, terrified of letting his full weight rest on her and hurting her. She seemed to understand his concern and stroked his face. "You won't hurt me, Mulder. You couldn't hurt me. Make love to me." Mulder swallowed hard at her words. It was the closest thing to a declaration of love he had gotten from her so far. He leaned down and kissed her, long and deep. She pulled her knees a little higher around his hips and suddenly the position was just right. He couldn't help but grant her wishes. They started with slow rocking movements, but soon neither could control their passion any longer and then he was pounding into her. He balanced himself on his hands so he could look at her face and the sight before him was breathtaking. Her head was thrown back on the pillow and she was panting, her face flushed, her jaw slack. He lowered his head so he could kiss her neck and collarbone. Moving his lips any lower was impossible due to their height difference, and he hoped they would have the chance for more leisurely lovemaking later, but truth be told, he was perfectly content just now. Mulder had suspected Scully would be a quiet lover, but her soft, low moans were exciting him more than he thought possible. She had her eyes shut tight, and was biting her lips. He could feel the scrape of her fingernails down his back. Her hands gripped his hips and pushed him even deeper. He really, really wanted to wait for her. This was all for her. But it had been a long time for him, and he felt control slipping away. Mulder kissed her temple, bit her earlobe and murmured, "Come for me, Scully." She let out a low moan which made his whole body vibrate, and tensed under him. Her arms flew around his neck and she kissed him hard. He felt her quivering thighs relax their grip around his hips and slowed his movements down to give her the chance to recover. When he looked at her, she was smiling. She used the tip of a finger to brush a wayward lock of hair off his forehead, and whispered, "Your turn now." As he resumed moving into her welcoming body, her hands traveled up and down his back. He felt surrounded by her and it was sensory overload. She grabbed the headboard for leverage so she could meet his thrusts and he interlocked her fingers with his. She kissed his shoulder, raised her head a little and murmured, "It's okay, just let it happen" in his ear. Her voice was his undoing. He muttered a strangled "God, Scully" and drove a last time into her, throwing his head back as he came hard and collapsed over her. He released the vice grip he had on her hands and she took his face in her hands to kiss his forehead as he came down from his high, struggling for air. He buried his face in her sweaty neck and whispered a quiet "Love you, Scully," as she held him. *** Scully waited for Mulder to recover, stroking his damp hair and caressing his slick back while he fought for breath. He tried to roll off her, but she held him in place. "No, don't move yet, you feel wonderful," she said. He raised his head from the pillow of her shoulder and smiled. "I'm gonna crush you." "No, you won't. Stop worrying. I can shove you off me if I want." He laughed. His eyes had assumed a bright shade of green and she didn't think she could fall for him any harder, but she did. Well, well, well, Dana Katherine. Moment of truth, so to speak. She looked up at him and smiled. Just smiled. He shook his head, amused. "What's so funny?" "Actually, it isn't funny. It can get us in all sorts of trouble. But I think I'll take my chances." He frowned. "What?" "You have no idea, do you? What's that genius IQ of yours good for if you don't already know?" "You've lost me here, Scully." "Hmmm, don't think so, pretty much the opposite, I guess." "Note to self: she talks in riddles in the afterglow." "Yeah, you got it right, I'm basking." He moved off her and pulled her against him. She rested her chin on his chest and looked straight into his eyes. He played with a stray curl of her hair and asked, "So, what was that troublesome piece of information you were about to overwhelm me with?" She didn't take her eyes off of his. He started getting nervous, she could tell from the way his brows knitted together. "Scully?" "I love you, Mulder." That definitely caught him off guard, because he sat up, taking her with him. "What?" "I love you. I have for a long time now. Since before they split us up." "Scully..." "Let me talk, okay? I fought against it in the beginning. You know my history with Jack. I didn't want to repeat a mistake. And it would be so easy to lose myself in you." "This is unbelievable." "I thought 'I want to believe' was your motto, Mulder." She pushed him back onto the bed and leaned her head on his shoulder. He took her face in his hands and touched her forehead with his. Just before bringing her mouth back to his, he whispered against her lips, "And it is, Scully, more so now than ever before." The End