From: Mezzo4@aol.com
Date: Mon, 28 Sep 1998 00:24:31 EDT
Subject: Desideratum I:  Lost (1/11)


TITLE: Desideratum I : Lost (1/11)
AUTHORS: Rachel Anton and Laura Blaurosen
E-MAIL: RaValliano@aol.com and Mezzo4@aol.com
RATING: NC-17
CATEGORY: S, A, R
KEYWORDS: MSR, angstfest
SPOILERS: Let's be safe and say US season 5 and FTF

DISCLAIMER: We don't own Mulder, Scully, Skinner, Bill and
Maggie Scully, or the concept of Charles Scully. All the
other characters are ours though :).

DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere as long as our names and e-mail
addys go with it.

SUMMARY: How far is too far to go in the name of love?


As always, thanks to Amy for encouragment and advice.


Desideratum I:  Lost 
     by Rachel Anton and Laura Blaurosen

part 1/11

Scully was jarred awake.  Someone was in her apartment,
she could just feel it.  Thinking it might just be residual
feelings from a dream she had been having, she lay still for
a moment, listening intently to any disturbances to the
nighttime quiet.  She heard the refrigerator kick on and her
heart jumped.  She told herself to just relax, but turned
slowly toward the night stand in search of her weapon
anyway.

"Just forget about it."

Scully shot up in her bed to see who was there, but before
she was able, the intruder raised his hand and hit her
across the face with the barrel of a gun, the blow hard
enough to knock her out cold. Scully's world went black.


xxxxxx

xx  Two months earlier  xx

Jane Harris looked nervously around Mulder's apartment, 
knowing he wouldn't be returning any time soon, that he was
on a case, but nervous nonetheless. She couldn't help but
jump at every sound. She was doing something that she
knew would make him very angry, violating his trust and his
privacy, and she couldn't risk getting caught.

She'd already cleaned every nook and cranny of the place,
and now she felt it was time for a reward for a job well done. 
She was sitting on his couch.  The couch. She sank down
into the leather and smelled it with a smile.  It felt like he
was everywhere, like he was surrounding her.

Her hands were shaking with excitement on the book she
held. Finally a chance to know his most personal intimate
thoughts, to understand this brilliant, wonderfully desirable
man.  Once she understood him she would know what she
had to do.  

It was like opening a Christmas present.  She peeled the
leather bound cover back slowly.  The first entry was labeled
January 14, 1996.  Too long ago. She flipped through the
pages anxiously, searching for the day that she had first met
him.  She planned on reading the whole thing from
beginning to end but she needed to see that page first.

She felt her heart skip a beat when she found the page titled
September 14, 1998.  He'd written that day.  It was
significant to him.  She remembered the day more clearly
than any other.  She remembered what it had been like to
actually see him in person for the first time after reading so
many articles about him, seeing so many pictures. He'd
been even more captivating in person.  He'd listened so
attentively when she'd told him her story.  He'd seemed so
concerned, so eager to help her.  She could recall every
expression on his face, every word he'd spoken.  She
wondered if he thought of the day as often as she did.  At
least now she knew he'd written about it as she had. She
gazed adoringly at his handwriting.


September 14, 1998

Started a new case today.  Or should I say assignment.
Somebody up there is pissed as hell at me and Scully that's
for fucking sure.  Something about some bumfuck farmer
killing his sheep and then his wife for unknown reasons.
We're flying out to Nebraska tomorrow morning.  Can't help
but feel dissatisfied at the current course life seems to be
taking. Haven't had a good case to sink my teeth into in
what seems like forever.  Just one boring dead end after
another.  I suppose I should be grateful for the relative calm
but unlike the rest of the human race, calm makes me
nervous.  Gives me more time to think.  More time to
daydream, fantasize.  Never a good idea.  It gets worse
every day. 

I've been avoiding her lately.  I think she's noticed but, of
course she never says anything about it.  Sometimes I'll
actually run in the other direction when I see her coming
down the hall or something.  It's really pathetic.  It's not
cause I'm embarrassed or anything. It's just that lately, well I
dunno.  The weeks right after our pseudo-kiss were so
chaotic and bizarre.  We were so busy that I hardly had time
to think about what had almost happened between us.  And
when I did think about it I was still in the euphoric stage of
just being amazed that we'd gotten that far, that I'd had the
balls really.

Well, enough time has passed that my self-congratulations
are over.  The giddy upbeat mood between us has settled
down to a familiar routine.  And I am left thinking (obsessing
actually) about what to do next, if anything.  

I guess the next move is really hers.  I kind of realize that at
least in my head.  But sometimes I feel my body rebel.
Sometimes I look at her and I find myself frighteningly close
to doing something collossally stupid.  Like blurting out, 
"How about that time we almost kissed?  Wanna try that
again??"  Or just pulling her onto my lap and burying my
head in the crook of her neck.  Sometimes I'll think about it
so much that I'll feel as though I'm actually going to do
something like that.

It's like vertigo.  Like standing on the top of a building and
looking down, knowing you could jump, that the action itself
would be unbelievably easy, and you keep staring and
staring over the edge until you become convinced that you
are going to jump unless you get the hell away from there.
Love is like vertigo.  Wonder if that's why they call it falling
in love. Too bloody insightful huh?  I think it's time to get my
mind out of lala land and onto more pressing matters.  Like
this stupid case.

Oh, hired a new cleaning lady finally.  She'll be happy to
hear I'm sure.  She's been teasing me lately about the
disarray my place has been in.



That was the end of the entry.  Jane shook her head and
tried to hold back the tears she felt building. Hired a new
cleaning lady today? That was all her presence warranted?
And who was this she he spoke of? His stupid partner?
Scully? Jane had seen this woman through her video
surveillance equipment on a couple of occasions. They
seemed to be pretty close. She needed to know if Scully
was the she that he was mooning over. If she was the main
obstacle. Jane flipped to the next page which was also the
final entry.


October 3, 1998

God fucking dammit. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I thought it was bad before but today was the worst
ever. I knew this girl in college who told me she wanted
to be a guy cause guys could pee and jerk-off wherever
they wanted. I told her that was a mixed blessing. Well,
today I sure proved that.

I don't know what the hell I was thinking. Well, that's not
entirely true. I know what I was thinking. I was thinking about
the way she smelled today, the way she was moving. I was
thinking about her mouth, and her legs, and everything else
she's got. Everything I've seen. Yep, no need to use the old
imagination anymore. Okay so, when I saw her that time I
didn't really get a chance to look too closely. I didn't even
think about the fact that she was naked as the day she was
born because all I could think about was getting her the fuck
out of that horrible place and keeping her safe. But I DID
see her. And that image is there, permanently scorched into
my memory. And it has this way of creeping into my thoughts
sometimes. Most times. All the fucking time. It's just there.
Everyday when I look at her, I know what's underneath.
Sometimes if I concentrate enough, it's as if I'm wearing
X-ray glasses. I can see right through her clothes. And when
she's not there, it's even worse.

Anyway, the past few weeks have been really bad in that
way. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. This is as true
with a woman as it is with anything else. I have a little
knowledge of her, of her body and her feelings and the
potential of what could be between us and that knowledge
has been worse for me than the little knowledge I have
about what happened to Sam. It's more than an obsession,
it's a fucking lifestyle choice.

I guess I should get to the point here. The point is that since
we got back from our little adventure in the Arctic I've felt
certain undeniable needs. Urges that need to be relieved
rather than manifested in hideous actions.  Okay, the point
is that I've been jerking off in the fucking bathroom four or
five times a day at work to keep myself from slamming her
against the filing cabinet and fucking the life out of her.

I know, I know. It's pathetic. Almost sad if it wasn't so funny.
But at least it's been working. No sexual assault charges so
far and that's as much success as I could really hope for. It's
become so much a part of my routine that I haven't even
really thought about it until now. It only takes a minute or
two, sometimes a matter of seconds if I think about the right
thing, and she hasn't really noticed as far as I know.

But today, something happened to me. Something was
different. I don't know what the hell she did to me but for
some reason when she left to do that stupid autopsy, I
couldn't wait. Couldn't even make it to the bathroom.  Just
had to pull it out right there under the desk. Unbelievably
idiotic I know. But I figured she'd be gone for at least an
hour. Nobody else was gonna show up so why the fuck not.
Right?

Well, that was my logic, or lack thereof, anyway. I didn't
realize she'd forgotten her stupid goddamn tape recorder. A
fucking tape recorder. At least the stupid thing wasn't on.

So anyway, she comes back without knocking and I'm sitting
there with my dick in my hand about a milisecond away from
coming, my head thrown back in the midst of a ridiculous
grunt and she's just standing there. Just standing there
looking at me with this look of concern on her face. Are you
okay Mulder, she asks me. Are you fucking okay? Well the
answer to that is obviously no. I am so not okay. But I just
nodded, hoping she'd do whatever the hell she needed to do
and go away.

But she didn't. She got her tape recorder and then she came
over to the desk. She's standing right across the desk from
me so I finally let go of my dick and put my hands on the
desk. Are you sure you're okay, she asks again. You look a
little flushed and you're sweating. You shouldn't be sweating
when it's so cold in here Mulder. Maybe you have a
temperature. Then she reaches across the desk and
touches my forehead to feel for a fever.

So, that was the end of it all for me. I came. I fucking came
right there in front of her from a fucking temperature check.
Can you spell pathetic?

To give myself some credit, I managed to cleverly cover it
with a phony sneeze. Which of course played into her fear
that I was drastically ill. Long story short, I ended up
spending a long, embarrassing afternoon with a Bureau
physician to placate her.

So, anyway, this just isn't working anymore. Something's
gonna give and it's gonna be soon and I'm actually fucking
terrified of myself right now. I just hope her God is protecting
her.


Still no mention of the goddamn bitch's name.
Jane flipped several pages back.


December 16, 1996

What the fuck?  What the fucking fuck Scully?  Her life. This
is her life.  Not everything is about me.  How can she not
see?  Could she be so blind?  Is it possible that she doesn't
know that every fucking thing she does effects me? That not
only is her life as important to me as it is to her but that she
is my life.  That I don't have a fucking life without her.  It's
not just that she fucked some goddamn stranger. Okay,
maybe it is.  I dunno.  It's just, to put herself in danger like
that, take such an unnecessary risk.  And for what?  What
the fuck could she have possibly gotten out of that? She
wanted to be crazy and impetuous.  Why the fuck couldn't
she do that with me?  What the fuck is wrong with me
Scully?  She wanted to get laid?  Well, I'm right here. Better
fucking lay than some dumb fuck who doesn't have a clue
about what she needs.  Fucking tattoo.  I would have taken
her to get a stupid tattoo four years ago if I knew it would
have made her all horny and shit.  Fuck.  I think I'm gonna
throw up.


Scully, it was Scully. How could it possibly be? Jane shook
her head in disbelief and bit back another sob, turned to
another page.


December 20, 1997

Scully's going to her brother's for Christmas this year.  All
the way in California.  I wish I could go with her.  I wish her
entire family didn't hate me.  I got to spend Thanksgiving
with her though and it was the best Thanksgiving I've ever
had.  She made us lasagna cause she knows how much I
hate turkey and then we watched It's a Wonderful Life on
TV. I swear to God I saw a tear trickling down her cheek
during that damn movie!   Anyway I think it was one of the
best days of my life.


Another random page.


March 23, 1998

Scully's on vacation this weekend.  Vacation from me I think.
She doesn't want me to call her but I keep doing it anyway.
Life is just so boring and lame without her around.  Also I'm
kind of afraid of her vacations.


Another.


August 17, 1998

She wore that damn suit today.  The black one with the skirt
that's just a little shorter than usual, the neckline a little
lower.  I think she's trying to drive me to distraction.


Another.


July 26, 1996

Scully took my hand tonight.  Across the desk.  I suppose
she knew I was hurting.  Her fingers were so soft.  I hope
she didn't notice I got a hard on.


And another.


February 19, 1997

Why won't she talk to me?  Why the fuck won't she talk to
me?  I can't take this anymore.  I can't watch this happen to
her.  I wish I had the balls to shoot myself in the head so I
didn't have to watch this.  I wish I didn't care about what that
would do to her because that thought is the only thing
keeping me from doing it.  That and the desperate hope that
we will be able to stop it.  God Scully.  Please don't die. 


Jane slammed the book shut furiously. She couldn't stand to
read another word, didn't need to. She knew now what
needed to be done.

xxxxxx

Dana Scully woke slowly realizing she had a headache that
did not promise to go away soon.  As she rose to take a pain
reliever, she realized she was not at home.  The aching
escalated to a sharp shooting pain and she grabbed her
head to ease the jarring.  She ran through a mental
checklist, first to decide whether or not she had a
concussion, as well as reaching back into her memory for
how she had gotten here.  She and Mulder fighting, crying
herself to sleep, someone in her apartment...

Satisfied she was not suffering from a concussion, she got
up from the bed and circled the room quietly, in search of a
way out of where ever it was she had ended up in.  It was
relatively dark, so she twisted the blinds on the window open
slightly to let some light into the room.  Her eyes now better
adjusted, she could make out the bed she'd been in - an
antique wrought iron with four tall posts and an empty
canopy.  There was an oak wardrobe on the wall facing the
bed and a mirror behind the door.  Next to the bed, a small
drop-leaf table and chair.  On the other side of the table was
the door to a bathroom. 

Across the room, she saw another window that looked out
into what appeared to be some sort of indoor garden.  She
moved over to it for a closer view.  There were what seemed
like hundreds of varieties of flowers, plants and trees, both
exotic and native.  Amidst all of it and nestled between two
trees was a large running fountain, the focal point of which
was the sculpture of a lion. The water spouted up and
around it as well as running from the lion's mouth.  It was
gorgeous.  All of it.   Scully didn't think she'd ever seen
anything like it.  

Common sense and fear overtook her before admiring the
room any further and she went to the door in search of an
escape.   Trying the doorknob, she found it turned easily. 
She twisted it slowly until feeling it click, then held it in
place, waiting for a few moments to pass.  After a while, she
pulled it inward and peeked around through a small
opening.  Seeing nothing but a seemingly empty living room,
she felt a small wave of relief pass through her.  

By instinct, she reached for her gun.  Not finding it there,
she remembered her abductor had hit her with it.  Perhaps
she'd find it in the apartment.  She eyed the picture hanging
above the bed and pulled it down for her temporary defense. 
She opened the door all the way and waited again.  Nothing. 
All was very still.  She proceeded cautiously throughout the
rest of the apartment.  Down the hall from the room she had
been in was another bedroom, between the two rooms,
another large bathroom.  To her right was the living room,
which shared a windowed-wall with the garden.  

Satisfied now she was completely alone, she quickly
followed through the living room to the foyer and tried the
front door.  The dead bolt was locked. Seeing no phone in
the adjoining kitchen, she went to the other bedroom. 

A cordless phone lay on the desk in front of the window and
she made her way over to it hoping also to find her gun.  On
the desk Scully spotted a brand new PC exactly like the one
Mulder had shown her in the magazine, saying how he was
going to get one next weekend.  Despite her present
situation, she smiled to herself at the memory of the boyish
look on his face as recited to her all of the specs on this
unprecedented piece of technology.  It was an item he did
not need in the least, he had just wanted to get a new toy.

A look just like the one she was seeing in the photo of him
she spotted on the desk next to it.  In fact, it had been taken
the very day she'd just been remembering.  She fished
through the colossal pile of pictures covering the desk.
There were frame by frame photos of every day she and
Mulder had lunch together outside of the office in the last
week.  Last two weeks, even.  In the photos she managed to
show up in, her face had been scratched or cut out
completely.  Some one had been following them.  And from
the looks of it, for at least two months, if not longer.  What
for?

She surveyed the rest of the desk and noticed a picture of
Mulder sticking out of the flatbed scanner next to the
computer.  From what she could see, Mulder's expression
looked like he was in severe pain. She lifted the lid and
grabbed the photo.  His eyes were squeezed shut and he
was biting down on his bottom lip. She turned over the rest
of the pictures laying on the scanner one by one and as she
viewed each of them, she began to get the idea.  It couldn't
be anything else.  He'd been caught him in the act, the
camera recording almost every other moment of one of his
most private ones.  She was certain of it, he was most
definitely alone and in his apartment, she figured out after
viewing a few shots.  Additionally, his arms were squeezed
in tightly to his torso, angled just so....Then she saw the shot
that answered any possible doubts as to the nature of the
situation in question.  In it he was sprawled out on the
couch, his raging erection in hand, his head thrown to one
side.

She told herself she didn't want to be looking, but couldn't
brake her gaze.  The photo was so close and clear, it
almost seemed someone had taken it while in the room. 
She could see the white of his teeth, the hollow of his
neck, McDonald's wrappers laying amidst a pile of what
was most certainly FBI information records and files. 
Romantic evening, agent Mulder?  

It was clear to her now that whoever had been following
them wasn't interested in any of Mulder's FBI involvement,
X-files or otherwise.  Whoever had taken her here was
interested in Mulder.  Just Mulder, not any information he
may or may not know.  Upon further rifling, there were other
things she noticed that belonged to Mulder.  A necktie, a
bottle of his cologne, something written in his handwriting,
the key to her apartment.

Scully looked up quickly and noticed the tripod in the
window, a 35 mm digital camera with a huge zoom lens
attached to it and pointed out the window.  She peered
through the viewer to see a familiar apartment, Mulder's, as
clear as day.  He was asleep on the couch.

Her heart began racing when she saw him.  She grabbed 
the telephone.  Mulder's phone number was programmed as
the first number on the list.  She hit it and jumped out of her
skin when she heard,

"WHAT THE FUCK-"

Scully dropped the phone and quickly looked for something
to use to defend herself.  But before she could think, a
woman descended upon her, grabbing her arms and pulling
them tightly behind her, squeezing them together at her
elbows.  Scully heard something pop and then a sharp pain
shoot up her right arm.  It was all so sudden and intense that
her knees gave underneath her.  Just as she started to
attempt to yell out, the woman pushed her to the ground.

"Just shut-up! Shut the fuck up and don't say a word!"

As the woman yelled at her, she pulled on Scully's arms
tightly and Scully was worried she might pull both of them
right out of their sockets.  Her eyes teared from the pain.
"Stop," she whimpered.  "Please stop."

"I'll stop if you promise not to fucking yell!  God!"  She
said with great frustration in her voice.  "You're gonna
fucking ruin everything!"  She pulled her up forcefully and
pushed Scully back toward the bedroom she'd come out of 
before.  

Scully knew something was severely sprained if not
broken in both of her arms.  She cried out as the woman
shoved her arms back out in front of her and cuffed her
wrists.  In this position, she finally got a good look at her
captor.  It was Jane Harris, a woman she had met only
recently.  Jane threw Scully to the bed and she tried to use
her legs to kick Jane in the stomach.  Jane grabbed them in
one arm and pressed down hard on her knees.  Scully
screamed out again.

"What do you want with me?"  she asked in a pained voice
while Jane attached some kind of chain to one of the bed
posts.

Jane smiled wickedly and said in a low voice,  "Your
partner's undivided attention, that's what.  And as long as
you're around distracting him, I'm not going to have that." 

"Are you going to kill me, Jane?"  Scully asked between
sharp breaths.

Jane laughed.  "Are you kidding me?  You must think I'm
pretty stupid."  She shook her head and opened her eyes to
reveal to Scully the madness there.  "I just need a little time. 
A little time to myself with Mulder, without you in the way. 
That's all.  But you try anything and I will break both your
arms and both your legs.  I can do that."  Scully's heart
pounded faster now.  She had no doubt that was true.

"Then what are you going to do to Mulder?"

She chuckled again.  "You aren't too smart, are you?"  She
shook her head again.  "I mean really, Agent Scully, do I
have to spell it out for you?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about my relationship with Mulder.  It needs
some time to grow and flourish a bit more.  He needs that
too, you know.  With you always in his way, he's hardly had
a moment's peace to spend with me,"  Jane said in a
matter-of-fact tone.   

"You're nuts.  Mulder and you don't-" 

"Oh yeah?"  Jane interrupted.   "How do you know that? 
How sure are you that he tells you everything, Agent
Scully?"   As she left the room, she added, "I mean, really, is
it really probable that you would be the ONLY woman in his
life?  Is it so impossible to believe he has a lover?"

After a few moments, Scully heard the front door slam.  She
waited and attempted to scream, but after yelling once,
found that she hardly had the energy for it.  She was dizzy
now and the pain in her arm was making her a bit sick to her
stomach.  She breathed deeply and tried to concentrate. 
She knew she needed to keep both her strength and her
wits about herself if she was going to get out of this.

But she couldn't remember having felt more helpless in her
life.  Mulder feasibly could have seen her as she stood in
that window a moment ago.  Could have seen her and came
running to help her.  If she had yelled, he might even be
able to hear her.  But he was dead asleep on his couch,
unaffected seemingly by the harsh words they'd exchanged
only hours ago.  Though he really had no good reason to
come to her rescue, after what she'd said to him.  

Why the hell did this woman have him on the speed dialer
on her phone, anyway?  Remembering Jane's words, she
wondered if Mulder and this apparent lunatic could in fact be
sleeping together.  Was it possible?  No, it couldn't be. 
Mulder could never, not after all that had been said between
them recently, everything that they had gone through
together.  He would never turn to anyone else, would he?   

But that was the very thing, Jane - no one - could actually
be the 'other woman'.  She and Mulder weren't lovers,
either.  He wasn't really betraying her if he did.  Since that
moment in his hall when she'd come a breath away from
telling him she loved him, they had danced around the
whole issue of exactly how close they were and just how far
they were going to let it go.  So the tension that had always
been there was greater now than it ever was.  They had
both opted to push it away, acting as though it never
happened, and he wasn't going to say it if she wasn't, that
was clear now.  And since she was having a such hard time
taking that one last leap, why wouldn't he look for what he
needed elsewhere?  Oh God, and after what happened last
night...

But surely this woman was a maniac.  She'd been stalking
him.  She had a camera set up that pointed directly into his
apartment, for God's sake!  Taking pictures of him, doing -
everything!  Of course, she could be obsessed with him and
Mulder had no idea. Whether or not they were lovers.  

He hadn't really said all those things just to make her stay,
had he?

Scully's heart sank at the thought and she began to wonder
if the possibility that Mulder and Jane might be lovers was
stronger than she first assumed.  Just because this woman
stalked him didn't mean they weren't - she didn't want to
think about it anymore.   The fact remained, though, that
things hadn't exactly been relaxed between them as of late. 
She thought back on the past few weeks.  And Mulder had
spent a lot of time with this woman.  A lot of time.  Time that
he usually spent with her, in the office, in her apartment, on
the telephone.  And if it was just about the sex for Mulder, it
wouldn't needed to have taken a whole lot of time to grow
and develop.  Not like in the way the feelings she felt for him
had.

Oh Mulder, I'm so, so sorry.  So sorry I made you wait.  
  
The room began to spin on her and she closed her eyes. 
She feared her body was in shock and that she may have
fractures all throughout her arm.  Deep bruises were already
beginning to form.  She realized that she would have to
somehow try to gain this woman's confidence so that she
would take care of her and not hurt her any further. 
Otherwise, Scully was afraid, she wouldn't make it long
enough to find out if her musings were even near being
correct.  Or ever again have a chance to finally tell him
exactly what he meant to her.

Desideratum I: Lost 
     by Rachel Anton and Laura Blaurosen
part 2/11


xx  2 weeks earlier  xx

"So, Mulder, what are you working on today?"  Scully called
from the back of the office where she was viewing some
x-ray photos. 

Mulder, she noted, had been spending the better part of the
morning in and out of the office, never taking more than a
second to grunt a yes or no answer when she'd ask him
something.  

She shut out the light on the viewer and gathered the
photos, taking them into the other room to stick them into an
envelope.  Apparently he hadn't been listening to her, for he
never answered her question.

"Mulder, I asked you a question.  Didn't you hear me?"

He looked up suddenly and afforded her with at least a
dumbfounded stare.  He had no idea she'd even spoken to
him.

"Huh?"  he grunted.

"I asked you what you were working on today."

Before he could formulate an appropriate answer, there was
a knock on the door.  Mulder seemed to jump out of his skin. 
"Could you get that on your way out, Scully?"

Scully hadn't realized she'd been on her way out, but
obviously whoever appointment this was, Mulder wanted to
take it alone.  She opened the door to a tall, thin woman, in
perhaps her mid-thirties.  "May I help you?" 

"Uh, yeah, I'm looking for Fox Mulder-" she peeked around
Scully's shoulder, "Oh hello,  Mulder.  I hope this is still a
good time."  She looked back at Scully.

Mulder rose from his seat.  "Yeah, yes it's just fine.  My
partner was just about to leave.  Please come in."

"Mulder?"  Scully questioned him as he moved over to show
this woman in and shoo Scully out.  "Do you need my help
on anything?"

"Nuh-uh, I've got this, it's okay," he whispered.

"Whatever," she conceded under her breath and left the
room.  She would ask him about it later.

She started up the stairs and then, suddenly remembering
something, returned to the office, sticking her head in
through the door.  "Excuse me, sorry," she said as she saw
them laughing together, the woman's hand holding onto
Mulder's forearm.  They turned and looked at her.  "Mulder, I
need for you to see what you can dig up for the fraud
charges hearing.  Would you look back and see when Agent
Domrose supplied forensic evidence in '96 for us and the
results thereof."

"Yeah, sure, fine.  I'll meet you for lunch," he said and then
offered the other woman a seat.  Scully shut the door again
and wondered as she ascended the stairs if Mulder had
really heard her request.

xxxxxx

Monday, 2 p.m.
Hoover Building


Mulder eyed his watch with apprehension for what had to be
the twentieth time in as many minutes.  He'd waited.  He'd
done what was right, given her the time and space she
needed.  He hadn't tried to call her all weekend, hadn't
stopped by, nothing.  It had been driving him crazy. 
Absolutely and utterly crazy.  He'd picked up the phone a
hundred times and almost dialed her number but common
sense and fear had taken over and stopped him every time.
He owed her an apology.  He owed her a huge fucking blimp
sized apology.  He owed her the rest of his life, on his
knees, begging for forgiveness. But he knew if he went to
her with it too soon, he was in danger of making things even
worse.  She needed some time to cool down.  So did he.  So
he'd waited.

And he was waiting still.  It was two o'clock.  It was fucking
two o'clock already and she still hadn't shown up at the
office.  Was she afraid?  Still angry?  It wasn't like her to just
blow off work this way.  She should have at least called.

But then again, why should she really?  What did she owe
him after the way he'd acted towards her on Friday?  He
shuddered thinking of it.  He'd been so awful.  Worse than
he'd ever behaved towards anyone.  Practically a fucking
rapist.

Four past two.  He closed the unread folder on his desk in
frustration.  Where in God's name was she?  He walked
over to the table where she usually did her work and rifled
absently through the papers there.  Maybe there was
something important that she'd been working on, something
she was taking care of right now.  Maybe it was another
thing he was supposed to help her with that he'd flaked out
on.  God, how could he have forgotten?  He kicked himself
again for the mental lapse that had led to the hideous
confrontation in the first place.  Nice photographic memory
jack-ass.  He still couldn't remember her telling him about it,
even now.

There was nothing to offer even the slightest of clues among
her things.  He opened one of the drawers, aware that he
was crossing some kind of line but not really caring. 
Nothing but a box of Triscuits and a pair of shoes. Could
have left me with a better clue than that Scully. 

He picked up her phone and dialed the extension for the lab
upstairs.  Maybe she was doing some doctor-like things.
One of the geeks  picked up the phone and he asked him if
he'd seen her at all.  Mulder was sure the guys up there
would remember if their walking wet dream had graced them
with her presence. None of them had seen her since last
week.

He tried several other departments they sometimes worked
with and it seemed as if no one in the building had seen her
since Friday.  He got desperate at around three fifteen and
tried Skinner.  Nothing there but some ranting about his ass
being in some kind of unfortunate state if he didn't get some
report or other up there right away.

He wondered idly how long he would last before calling her
apartment.

4:10 p.m.

"Scully, it's me.  Are you there Scully?  It's almost four thirty
and I'm starting to...I'm wondering where you are Scully.  I
wanted...I feel really bad about Friday and I was hoping we
could talk.  Are...are you there?"  He waited a moment
before continuing, hoping like hell that she would just pick
up the damn phone.  It had taken all the balls he had to
actually bring himself to call her and he didn't want his
bravery to be wasted on the answering machine.

"Scully, I know you're gonna think I'm being a jack-ass, but
I'm starting to get a little worried.  I'm leaving work now and
I'm gonna come over there, okay?  I really want us to talk
through this.  If you don't wanna see me just leave a note on
the door or something so I know you're okay.  Okay? 
Scully?"  He slammed the phone down with an aggravated
sigh.

"Dammit, Scully, where are you?"

He tried to drive at a reasonable speed.  He told himself that
there was no reason to panic, nothing to be concerned
about really.  It was just Scully being obstinate, ignoring him. 
Maybe she still needed more space.  Maybe she was trying
to work through her thoughts so that they could talk
rationally.

*Maybe they took her from you again*  He tried to ignore
the familiar voice, the familiar twitch of anxiety.  It wasn't
that.  It couldn't possibly be.  No.

He dialed her number again as he swerved dangerously
through three lanes of traffic.  His tires skidded on the
pavement and for a moment he was certain he was about
careen into a cement overpass.

"Shit!"  was the first word on this message.  "Jesus.  That
was close.  Scully, are you there?  I'm on my way over there. 
I um...I know you  don't really want me to be there.  I know
these messages are probably annoying the hell out of you."
Why the hell wasn't she picking up?  His desperation led
him to utter words that came to him with the ease and
comfort of pulling teeth.  

"I'm sorry Scully.  I'm really sorry.  I don't know what I was
thinking Friday.  I was just...I dunno, there's no excuse
really.  Sometimes I just get so..." he drifted off, uncertain of
the proper word.  Horny?  Frustrated?  Desperate?  "Tense. 
I shouldn't have  gone over there like that at all and I...I
didn't mean any of the things I said.  The stuff about you
leaving...I didn't mean it.  I didn't....Dammit Scully.  Please. 
Please don't do this.  Just pick up okay?  Just pick up and
tell me that I'm a piece of shit and that you never want to
see me again.  Just let me know that..."  His plea was cut off
abruptly by a high pitched beep marking the end of his time
limit.  He tossed the cell phone on to the passenger seat
angrily.

"What the fuck?  What the fuck, Scully?"  This wasn't like
her.  Not at all.  Had it been that bad?  Had he driven her so
far away that she would never come back?

No.  He had to stop.  It was just one day.  She'd only been
gone a few hours.  She was probably sick.  Maybe she had
a cold or something.  Maybe she was sleeping and she'd
just forgotten to call in.  Maybe it was something worse then
a cold.  What if it was something serious...

His foot twitched nervously against the gas pedal.  Damn
traffic.

He picked the phone up again and hit redial.


5:30 p.m.
Scully's apartment

By the time he reached her apartment he had called her
twice more and gotten no response.  And there was no note
on the door.

He knocked tentatively at first, a little nervous now that he
was actually here.  What if she opened the door and she
was still angry.  What if she just spit in his face?

"Scully?"  He knocked a little harder.  At least then he'd
know. As long as she was safe, they'd be able to work it out
somehow.  He was willing to do anything.

"Scully are you there?  Please talk to me Scully.  I can't
stand this."  He pulled his cell from his jacket pocket and
dialed again.

"Scully, pick up the phone.  Answer the door, Scully.
Dammit!  Are you in there?  Scully, I'm coming in.  If you
don't want me to pick up the fucking phone and tell me that." 
He grabbed his keyring from his jeans and picked through
the collection in search of the one he needed.  The one with
the little tag that read "Scully".  He hadn't used it in a long
time.  Where the hell was it?  He flipped frantically
throughout the group of keys.  Had to be there somewhere.

"Fuck.  Fuck, fuck, fuck."  He dug his hands into each one of
his pockets.  Nothing.  It was gone.

"Scully!"  He was shouting now.  His fist was turning red
from knocking so hard.  "Scully, I can't find my fucking key."
He dialed her number again.

"Scully, this is ridiculous.  Pick up the goddamn phone,
Scully!"  Petulant child.  That's what she was acting like.
Damn her for making him worry like this.

"Scully, I'm going home to find my keys.  I'm coming back
Scully.  I don't have to do this.  Just tell me.  Just pick up the
phone and tell me...God, fuck it.  I'm coming back, Scully.
Just so ya know.  Just in case you give a shit."



6:00 p.m.
Mulder's apartment

Jane was very excited.  It was finally coming together now.
Her plans had taken awhile to formulate but once the pieces
had started to fall into place, things had unfolded more
or less perfectly.  She'd been thrilled to see them fighting
the other night.  She supposed it had something to do with
the urgent messages Scully had left for him.  Messages that
Jane had deleted.  She'd looked damn pissed at him. So
pissed that she'd rejected him.  Stupid cunt.  Things would
be better for Mulder now.  Little miss priss was tied up
securely in her apartment and she was here.  Where she
belonged.  In Mulder's living room.

They'd agreed to meet tonight to talk things through.  He
was thinking of doing a hypno-regression on her.  Jane
wasn't one hundred percent sure what that meant but it
sounded like fun.  Mulder doing an anything on her sounded
like fun.

She'd worn her absolute favorite outfit in the world.  A nice
pair of black pants and a grey button down sweater.  She'd
seen the bitch wearing something similar and the way
Mulder had looked at her that day, you'd have thought she
was wearing a Versace evening gown.

She checked her watch nervously.  Any minute now.  Any
minute he'd come home to his freshly cleaned apartment.
No Scully at work today.  What a shame.  Maybe he'd be a
little sad about their fight, wondering if she'd left for good.
And Jane would be there to comfort him.  To show him that
he didn't really need the little witch anyway. He needed
someone who would never leave him no matter what. 
Someone who would never push him away like that.  What a
little bitch that Scully was.

Any minute...

The sound of a slamming door broke her out of her reverie
and she stood from the couch.  "Mulder?"

It was him alright.  He walked, rather stalked, into the living
room, brushing past her, digging through his pockets, a cell
phone tucked against his ear.

"Mulder, are you okay?  I..."

"Mrs. Scully?  Hi, um...this is Fox Mulder.  Listen I hate to
bother you but I was just wondering if you had talked to
Dana recently?"  He walked to his desk and began pulling
drawers open and searching through the contents.

"I mean like this weekend."  Papers and pens were now
being shuffled around, tossed out of their proper places.
Jane walked closer to him, wanting to reach out somehow.
This was not good.  He was calling her fucking mother
already?  Jesus.

"No, huh?  Do you um...do you know if she had any plans to
go anywhere this weekend?"  Jane was starting to get very
nervous.  He was nearly in a frenzy, tearing through his
belongings.  He'd moved onto the kitchen now and he was
practically ransacking the place.

"No, I don't think...I'm not sure what to think.  She didn't
show up for work today and I was just starting to get a little
worried.  I..."  He glanced up from his activities and his gaze
fell on Jane.  He seemed to register her presence for the
first time.  He looked like something important had just
occurred to him.  "Mrs. Scully, I've gotta go.  I'll call you
back."  He stuck the phone into his pocket and turned to
face her fully.  Jane was momentarily excited.  He wanted to
talk to her.  She was important enough to ditch the whore's
mother for.

"Jane, you cleaned the apartment today right?"  She nodded
mutely.  His eyes were starting to scare her a little.  He
looked like a caged animal.  "Did you see a key that said
Scully on it anywhere?"

Shit.  This was very bad.  He'd already realized he didn't
have the key.  He'd probably been to her apartment already.
Things were happening far faster then Jane had anticipated.

"Um...I don't think so..."  He grabbed her shoulders roughly
and she felt a tremor of excitement.  Such passion.  If only...

"Don't think so or no?  I need to know, Jane.  It's extremely
important.  Think!  Did you or not?"

She shook her head and tried her best to look scared of him. 
He should be sorry for manhandling her this way when she
was only trying to help him.  "No Mulder, I didn't.  I'm...I'm
sorry..."  She trailed off and forced a fake tear to run down
her cheek.

He let go of her abruptly and ran his fingers through his hair. 
"Shit.  It's okay.  I'm sorry.  I just...I need it."

"I understand, Mulder.  Maybe we can find it together."  She
reached out to touch his arm.  Yes, the idea of crawling
around the apartment together with a common purpose was
a good place to start.  But his eyes had lost focus again.  He
wasn't looking at her anymore.  He took out his cell phone
again and turned his back to Jane.

"Scully, this stopped being funny a couple hours ago.  I
know you're mad at me.  Message received okay?  Are you
mad enough to let me think that you're not safe?  Is that
what you wanna do to me Scully?"  He was pacing the
apartment now as he spoke.  "I called your mother Scully.
She's worried about you now.  Is that what you want?
Scully?  Please!  Will you at least call your mother and have
her call me and tell me you're okay?  Scully?  Dammit!"  He
threw the phone to the floor.

"Mulder?  What.."

"Fucking machine ran out.  I've gotta go."

Go?  Where the hell did he think he was going?  They had
plans tonight.  He was supposed to be helping her.  This
was not good.  Not at all.  He was already half way out the
door.

"Mulder, wait, is there anything I can do?"  He looked at her
for a moment in silence.  His brow creased as if he were
trying to think of some useful task for her.  She could be
useful.  She could be anything.

"Yeah, yeah there is.  Stay here.  By the phone.  If Scully
calls, call my cell right away." He leaned over and picked 
the phone off the floor and shoved it in his pocket and Jane
smiled.  At least it was an excuse to stay in his apartment. 
To be here when he returned from his fruitless searching.

"Sure.  No problem."

xxxxxx

xx  2 weeks ago, continued  xx

When it was almost 1:30, Scully took out her phone and
dialed Mulder, worried now for his whereabouts.

"Are you hungry?"  Scully heard his greeting in stereo.  She
jumped when she felt his hand run across her shoulders. 
He joined her across the table.

"Not anymore.  Where were you?"  

"Got a little behind, that's all."

Scully noted he didn't have anything with him.  She'd been
half expecting him to bring at least some of the information
she'd asked him for before she left this morning.  In a
cautious tone, she asked him, "So, did you manage to pull
anything together?"

She thought she detected a little hint of worry in his look. 
He took a bite of the sandwich she'd ordered him and said,
"Pull what together?"

"I asked you to look up that information for Agent Domrose's
hearing."

"Oh, yeah," he said, his mouth full.  "I didn't have time.  I'll
see what I can do after lunch.  Or tomorrow, maybe. 
When's that hearing?"

"It's a week from Friday, Mulder.  Haven't you read any of
the memos that have come through about it?"  She said, her
frustration beginning to grow.

"No I guess I haven't," he said as he stuffed his mouth
again.  

Scully shook her head slightly and tried another vein of
possible conversation, something that had been nagging at
her all morning.  "So, who was that woman who came to the
office this morning?"

He nodded quickly and swallowed.  "Yeah, um, she's the
woman who cleans my apartment, actually.  She just moved
here and took over for the one I had before."

"And so you invited her to the office to get to know her
better?"  She asked leadingly.  

"No, she, uh, she claims to - forget it, you won't care,
anyway."

"No, Mulder, if it has something to do with our work, of
course I care.  Now what was she doing there?"  She asked,
trying her hardest to not sound like a suspicious spouse.  

"She says she was abducted - see I knew you'd react that
way."  

Scully had tried her best not to react negatively, but was
almost unable to help herself.  She felt guilty when she saw
Mulder's disappointed look.  "Okay, Mulder," she said, trying
to make up for it. "So she was abducted.  I assume she
believes that extra-terrestrial life forms did this to her?"

"Well yeah, it seems that way, but the interesting thing of it
is, Scully," he began and Scully observed the fact that he
wouldn't really look her in the eye as he spoke.   "She said
that her entire family was taken, all of them at one time.  She
had eight brothers and sisters, plus her and her parents,
they were all taken at one time, on several occasions 
throughout her lifetime.  You see, they would all end up in
the same place together, not one of the family members had
summoned any one of them there, it was just coincidence
that they would end up together, and then it would happen." 
He hesitated, then added, "A group abduction, Scully."

Scully didn't like at all where this was headed and was now
sorry she'd ever forced it from him.  "So this is happening
now to her?"

"See, that's why she moved away, hoping it would keep from
happening.  But this is her second move in 3 years, and she
seems to be experiencing them still.  With her first move,
she would find herself all of a sudden on an airplane or in
her car en route to her parent's home.  One time she ended
up at home and couldn't remember how she'd gotten there. 
Since she's been here, she doesn't remember it having
happened again, but she does experience feelings of a 
presence in her apartment, she loses time."

She listened patiently and felt her shoulders growing tighter. 
She wanted to ask him again exactly what this had to do
with bureau work, but kept it in check.  She wasn't in the
mood to argue with him and additionally, she didn't want him
to bring up any similarities to what had happened to her
recently.  

She didn't have an opportunity to give him a reaction
because his phone rang and he excused himself
immediately after hanging up.

"Mulder, wait a min-" but he was gone, his attentions millions
of miles away from her or her concerns.  She gathered
herself and headed back to the office.


xxxxxx

Monday, 7pm
Scully's apartment

"Scully, it's me again.  I didn't find my keys.  I don't know
what happened.  Scully, I need you to let me in now okay?"
Mulder shook his head and squeezed his eyes together in
frustration.  He'd looked in her windows when he'd gotten
back to her apartment.  It was pretty dark. But he was still
convinced that she had to be in there.  Hiding from him,
that's what she was doing.  That had to be what she was
doing.

"Scully, this is silly.  You need to let me in."  He pounded on
the door again as his panic level rose.  "Scully, if you don't
let me in, I'm gonna have to let myself in.  Do you wanna
pay for another broken door?  Is that what you want?" 
Nothing.  No response whatsoever.  Obviously she didn't
care about her door.  Or him.  Or anything else.  He would
make her see, he would make her care.  One way or
another.

"Alright, Scully.  This is your last chance.  All I need to hear
is one fucking word from you and this won't happen."  A door
from somewhere down the hall opened and a voice called
out to Mulder.  Something about shutting the hell up.

"Fuck off.  I'm a cop," he growled as if it meant something. 
He backed a few steps away from the door, enough room to
get a running start.  "Scully, your neighbors hate me now. 
They probably hate you too by association.  You wanna get
kicked out of the building?  Dammit Scully!  This isn't fucking
funny anymore."  He took a deep breath and tightened his
muscles, preparing himself.  "I'm coming in now Scully.  Last
chance to stop me."   Why the hell wasn't she stopping him? 
He felt a tear of anger and worry trail down his cheek.  "Here
I come Scully."  He plowed shoulder first into the door.  A
sharp stabbing pain shot through his entire body at the
impact.  And the door remained shut.

"Dammit.  Fuck!"  He cursed himself as the memory returned
to him.  He'd been the one to pay for her latest door
replacement.  And he'd chosen a model suitable to guard
Fort Knox.  It was like running into a goddamn metal safe.

"Scully!  You want me to break my arm out here?"  He called
out as he slammed against the hateful thing again.  And
again.  And again.  Eventually the pain became an almost
religious experience for him.  Penance.  For his behavior
towards her on Friday.

After several more crashes, he heard two snaps.  One, he
realized as he fell into her apartment, was the door finally
giving.  The other he could only assume was his shoulder.

"Scully!"  His voice seemed unnaturally loud now. It was so
quiet.  He turned on the light and surveyed the living room. 
So empty.  A shiver passed through his body.  Something
was very wrong here.

He walked slowly through the apartment, searching room by
room, in the shower, under the bed, everywhere.  She
wasn't here.  She really wasn't here.  He paused in her
bedroom.  The bed was made, everything was in its proper
place.  It didn't look like anyone had broken in.  There were
no signs of a struggle.  The window was closed and in tact.
His eyes fell on the closet door and he pulled it open
frantically, suddenly certain that she was crouching on the
floor in there.  Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  It was empty.
Completely fucking empty.

He ran to her dresser and yanked open the drawers
furiously.  They were empty too.  Her clothes.  God.  All her
clothes were gone.  Everything.  Not just enough for a
weekend trip.  Enough for her entire life.

He felt dizzy.  This had to be some kind of joke.  A trick.
Someone was fucking with his head.  That was the only
explanation.

xxxxxx


xx  The previous Friday night,  9pm  xx
Taxicab

Mulder rolled down the window.  Only went halfway.  He
stuck his head as far outside as he could manage and tried
to suck down some fresh air.  If he could just avoid barfing
until he was in his own home he knew he would be very
proud.

He tried to remember how many shots he'd sucked down
tonight, when he'd started drinking, where he'd started
drinking.  It was all a blur.  He wasn't sure what he'd been
thinking.  He was such a bad drunk.  Such a lightweight.
And a goddamn emotional moron.

He wasn't sure if he'd decided to get wasted to forget about
things with Scully or to remember them.  Had he wanted an
escape from the tension between them, bearing down on
him day and night.  Or had he been seeking an outlet?  An
illusion of confidence, enough kahonas to make another
move on her?  He couldn't remember.  All he could recall
was the fact that he'd been sitting on the same fucking
barstool all evening ruminating about the situation like some
kind of ineffectual jerk-off.  Wondering if she thought about it
like he did.  If she had plans for him, for the future.  If she'd
stayed because of his desire for her or despite it.  If he'd
ever know the answer to that.  His mind wandered, as it so
often did, to that moment.  To her eyes, tearing up,
confused, shocked, perhaps hungry.  To her lips, opening
under his.  Opening.  She opened her fucking mouth.

He groaned in frustration and pressed his fists into the seat
of the cab.  He knew it would be a mistake to try anything
like that again.  She knew now.  There was no point.  All his
cards were on the table and the next move was hers.  It had
to be.

But sometimes he was so tempted.

"Kay mister, this is your apartment, right?"

Mulder nodded blankly.  It certainly looked like his
apartment.  He supposed it probably was.  Only moments
ago he'd wanted nothing more than to be here, but now that
he was, the thought of staggering to his couch and playing
with himself seemed like an extremely depressing prospect.

"Um, yeah it is but...could you, I kind of wanna go
somewhere else."

"Excuse me?"

This was not a good idea.  A thousand warning lights were
going off in his brain.  But he couldn't stop.

"I wanna go to Georgetown.  Take me to Georgetown."

"Georgetown?!  Look mister, I don't have all night to drive
you around the entire DC metropolitan area so..."

"You're a cab driver, right?  What the fuck else do you have
to do?"  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a large
bill, might have been a hundred, he wasn't sure, and tossed
it through the little window at the driver.


end part 2

Desideratum One: Lost 
      by Rachel Anton and Laura Blaurosen
part 3/11


Monday, 10:50 p.m.
Scully's apartment

Flashing red lights, police tape, rubber gloves, evidence
bags, nameless, faceless agents rifling through her things,
Mulder had been here before.  This time was worse.  This
time there were reporters, people taking pictures and asking
him questions.  Somehow, somewhere along the line, the
two of them had become news.

He wondered if maybe he'd made a mistake.  If he'd
panicked too soon and subjected her to this violation
unnecessarily.  But his fear overrode any logical objections
his brain could muster up.  She was gone.  Just gone. There
was no way he could ignore that.  No way he could sit on his
ass and wait for her to call and tell him what the deal was.
Because it was very possible that she couldn't call.

Through the cloud of noise and activity he recognized
Skinner standing in the doorway, looking blandly concerned
as ever.  The older man made eye contact with Mulder and
approached him warily.

"Agent Mulder?"  Mulder heard and saw him but he seemed
to be blurry.  Everything was so blurry.

"Mulder? What the hell is going on?"

"I don't...know."  Men were picking through her sofa.  The
sofa he'd been sitting on a few days ago, watching her,
wanting her.

"What do you mean you don't know?"  They were standing
close to the door.  The door she'd thrown him out of.  If he
looked closely he could almost see them there, could almost
hear her...

"Agent Mulder!  When is the last time you saw Scully?" 
What had he been doing?  What the hell had he been
doing?  Trying to drive her to the breaking point?  To wear
down her defenses so that she was emotionally raw, so that
she might reveal something of herself?  Had he been fool
enough to think if he was enough of an asshole to her that
eventually she'd snap and confess her undying love?  Had
that been his brilliant plan?  Had he thought that forcing
himself on her would endear him to her?

"I saw...I was...Friday.  Friday."  He started to walk away
from Skinner, not wishing to discuss the details of his last
contact with Scully, but the A.D. grabbed his shoulder and
forced him to face him.

"What did she say to you?  Did she give you any indication
that she might be going away or..."

"If she had do you think I'd have the fucking national guard
at her apartment right now?"  He'd told her to leave.  He'd
stood right on this patch of carpet and told her to leave him.

"Just calm down, Mulder.  I'm just trying to get a clear
picture of what happened here."  So calm.  So rational. 
Mulder felt a sudden and highly irrational urge to smash his
boss' head in with a baseball bat.

Just go already.  Just go.  Just fucking go.  Maybe I should.
Get out of my house.  I don't need you.  Just go.

Her lips.  Again her lips.  Under his.  His tongue pushing its
way into her mouth.  Her muffled protests.  His complete
ignorance.  His idiocy.  Pinning her against the counter with
his arms and his dick.  Trapping her.  Probably scaring the
hell out of her.

"What happened here is that an agent is missing and every
minute we spend here bullshitting about nothing is another
minute that she's in danger."

Skinner sighed and rubbed his forehead.  He was getting
more and more visibly frustrated.

"Mulder if we're gonna find her we need to figure out some
things.  Like who might have taken her, or if she's even been
taken.  Outside of the door you say you broke yourself,
there's no evidence here of a forced entry."

Just go.  Maybe I should have.  FUCK YOU.

"What the hell are you implying?"

"Maybe he's implying that she left here of her own accord." 
Mulder jumped and felt a shudder down his spine. 
He turned reluctantly to face Maggie Scully.  Skinner 
muttered something about needing to talk to someone 
and disappeared, probably sensing a gruesome oncoming 
scene.

Mulder wished he could do the same.  Scully's mother
looked utterly bedraggled and he felt a pang of guilt
remembering how he'd left her hanging.  No wonder she'd
shown up here.  She wasn't alone.  She was standing next
to a man slightly taller than Mulder, with black hair and
huge,
frightening blue eyes.  Scully eyes.  He had Scully's eyes.
And her mouth.  And her light complexion.  He looked like
her.  Except completely different.  Another relative?  A
bodygaurd?  Hired assassin?

"What the hell is happening, Fox?"  Why did everyone keep
asking him that?  Could they all see what had happened
between them?  Did they think that he'd driven her away?
Had he?

"I'm sorry I hung up on you before, Mrs. Scully.  I was kind of
frantic.  I'm not really sure what's happening to tell you the
truth."   The other man was staring at him.  He was starting
to make Mulder even more uncomfortable than he already
was.

"Well, what do you know?"

"Um...all I know right now is that nobody's heard from Scully
or seen her since Friday night and that some of her stuff...
well most of her clothes are gone."

"Fox..."  Mulder saw Scully's landlord out of the corner of
his eye.  He needed to talk to him.  Right away.

"Mrs. Scully I can't really talk now but I..."  He leaned in and
touched her arm lightly.  "I'm gonna find her.  I promise you. 
I swear to God I will."  He started to walk away but her angry
demand stopped him.

"And then what Fox?  Maybe you'll find her this time, but
what happens next time?  And the time after that?   Mulder
simply gaped at her, unable or unwilling to respond to her
outburst.  The man next to her put his arm around her.

"Come on, mom.  There's nothing we can do here.  Let's
just go home, okay?"  Mom.  He called her mom.  It dawned
on Mulder that he must be Scully's brother.  Her other
brother.  Charles?  Was that his name?

She pulled away from him and glared at Mulder.  "You can
save her as many times as you want Fox but she wouldn't
need saving in the first place if..."  She drifted off and
sighed.

"Come on, mom."  Scully's brother looked from his mother
to Mulder and then back again.  Maggie turned from Mulder
and walked away, never finishing her sentence.  She didn't
need to.  Mulder heard the rest loud and clear.

                  

xx  The previous Friday night, 10:30 p.m.  xx


"Scully? You there?"  Mulder thought he was whispering
but in fact he was yelling.  He thought he was knocking
lightly but in fact he was pounding.  The door jerked open
and she appeared before him.  Silky gold pajamas.  And a
not so pleased to see him expression.

"Mulder what are you doing here?"

"Mmmmm..."  She smelled so good.  He stumbled clumsily
into her apartment and kicked the door shut.

"Drunk again Mulder?   I certainly hope you're not
developing a real problem here."   He smelled awful, him
and his whiskey breath and he was drunker than the last
time he'd come over in that condition.   Scully didn't know
what he thought he was affecting by coming tonight, either. 
She was tired from a long day of carrying around a boiling
anger toward him for not following through, again, and she
really didn't have the energy to deal with him now.

He shook his head emphatically and opened his mouth to lie
to her.  "I am not drunk, Scully.   And furthermore, I'm
offended that you would think that I would come here in such
a state."  Suddenly there were two of her.  He grabbed
blindly for one of them.  Thankfully it was the real her.  He
clutched her shoulder and leaned down.  He wanted to get
to her ear and he had to practically bend over to get to it. 
From that angle he got quite an eyeful of her cleavage. 
Need surged through his veins to add to the fire already
begun in his groin.  "I have something...I'm...I have to give
you something."  He didn't have a clue what he was trying to
say to her.

She pushed his hand gently from her and turned her back
to him.  "I'm gonna make you some coffee Mulder.  You
need to sober up.  Sit down."

He sat on the couch while Scully went to the kitchen.  At
least it wasn't three o'clock in the morning this time, but she
still couldn't believe his nerve.  She banged around in the
kitchen hoping that it would irritate the mother of a
headache he deserved to have.

Mulder watched her from the living room.  She was too
fucking beautiful.  It wasn't fair.  How was he supposed to be
able to deal with that every single day?  It was too much. 
He felt all the self-control he had left, the tiny amount of
patience remaining in his body and soul, disappearing
rapidly as he watched her. He was tired of waiting. He was
tired of looking.

He stood and walked over to her.  Standing behind her, he
slipped his arms over her waist, under the top of her
pajamas.  Her skin was so soft.  Nothing should be that
damned soft.

Scully jumped and dumped the coffee grounds into the pot
instead of the filter.  Immediately, her skin felt like it was on
fire, millions of soft pin pricks around her abdomen pulsating
and pushing up through her breasts and neck.  She couldn't
breathe.  What the hell was he doing?  She heard him moan
into her ear and press himself against her, shoving his
erection into her back.

She tried to speak, to get his attention and make him stop
before getting too carried away.  "Mulder...," she said and
unfortunately it came out more as a groan.

He knew he was being insane.  What the fuck did he expect
this to accomplish?  But it felt so good.  He just wanted to
feel good, to make her feel good.  "Scully...you feel good.
I've been thinking about you all night.  About touching you."
He placed his open mouth on the warm skin just behind her
ear.

Her knees gave then and she had to literally hang onto the
counter.  What was happening here?  What was making him
do this?  He continued to suck behind her ear, the pressure
ever increasing.  She couldn't see the counter before her
and it was all she could do to keep from whimpering.  Yet for
as wonderful as it felt, she knew it wasn't right.  

Then it occurred to her that maybe he was trying to make
her forget what he'd done today.  Or more specifically, what
he hadn't done.  And she was going to have to make him
stop doing this to her or she wouldn't be able to think
straight.  They still had things to discuss.

"Mulder you," she stopped and swallowed hard when he
began rubbing his nose all along the back of her neck.
"Where were you?"  She let out a breath.

"I was in a bar.  I'm sorry.  I should have been here."  His
hands ran possessively over her sides and stomach. He
thought he was stroking her gently.  In fact he was grabbing
and squeezing, clutching and pinching.

What was he saying?  He was groping her clumsily like
some teenage boy, and her anger was starting to outweigh
the feelings he had been stirring in her.  Her voice a bit
more even this time, she tried to speak with more force. 
"No, I mean today. Where were you today?"

She sounded angry.  Maybe she'd been waiting for this all
day?  Or longer.  Maybe she'd been waiting for him to do
this for a long, long time.  It didn't matter, he would make up
for it now.  He would make up for everything tonight.  He bit
down on her earlobe.  He thought it was a nibble.

"I was...I dunno...."  He couldn't remember at the moment
where he'd been all day.  "I'm here now, baby.  It's okay.  I'm
here and I wanna fuck you."  He thought it was the most
romantic thing he'd ever said.  His tongue started probing
the inside of her ear.  It tasted so good.

It took a moment or two for what he'd said to register.  In the
meantime, she concentrated on being able to inhale and
exhale naturally again.  He was driving her mad.  He was in
her...Oh God, his tongue.  Then it caught up with her. "I
wanna fuck you."  Fuck me?  That's what he came over here
to do?  He'd spent the money to get wasted, why didn't he
just find himself a hooker while he was at it?  She groaned
and tried to speak again, but her tone was still very breathy.

"You were..." She jerked away from his mouth and hissed
out her words. "You were supposed to be at the hearing."

Hearing?  What was a hearing?  Maybe it had something to
do with her ear.

"Mmmm...the wha?"

"The hearing Mulder.  The freaking hearing."  She whirled
around to face him so she could show him the anger in her
face.

"Scully, I dunno what you're talkin' bout."  His words were
adding fuel to the fire of her anger but the sound of his voice
was driving her crazy, making her as equally drunk.

Mulder noticed the way her lips were pursed tightly together. 
She looked so tense.  She needed to relax.  His hands
started working on massaging her shoulders.  He dipped his
head down and placed a kiss the hollow of her neck.

"Hearing," she choked out.  She tried to say it louder.  "The
hearing.  Agent Domrose."  He was still writhing against her,
his hands roaming all over her body, squeezing and
rubbing.  She couldn't move.  He was the one holding her
upright by the way he was clutching her.  And then...Oh 
God...how had he known it was her neck that would get to
her?  Oh God, this felt so good.  She wanted to just forget it,
to just let him, like he said, fuck her, right here on her
kitchen counter.  All night long if he wanted to.  At that
moment she wanted nothing else.

But that's exactly what she'd been doing her entire career
with him.  She'd let it go too many times.  And right this
moment he was drunk.  Fucking drunk and grabbing at her
now in a way she thought may give her bruises.  He wasn't
even really paying attention to how he was handling her.  All
he wanted was to fuck her.  To relieve himself, using her like
she was just another item in his pornographic media.  It
wasn't going to happen this way.

"The fraud hearing.  Dammit Mulder!  You were supposed to
be there. You told me you'd try to help him."  Only a few of
her words registered in his brain.  He couldn't understand
what any of this had to do with him.

"Agent Dumbwhat?  Scully I don't wanna talk about work."
Her lips parted in an expression of disbelief.  He must have
taken the motion as an invitation, for he squeezed her
shoulders tight and leaned down, leering at her with the
hungriest look she'd ever seen on his face.

"Scully, you're so beautiful. Your face, it's so perfect,
flawless.  I love it."  She felt her heart ache at hearing his
words. They were so wonderful. And yet so completely
infuriating. Then he leaned even closer and she shot him a
warning with her eyes when she realized what he was
planning on doing.  He covered her mouth with his own. 
She whimpered and moaned despite herself when he
shoved his tongue into her mouth.

Within seconds he had her pinned against the counter.  His
tongue was probing her mouth and his hands were roaming
freely and wantonly over her entire body.  It felt so good to
him, so right, so perfect.  He was moaning excitedly and
tugging at her pajamas, desperate to feel her bare skin
against him.  When she started making small muffled
sounds, he took it as further encouragement and pressed
himself harder against her.  His hands slid up her top and
his fingers grazed her nipples.  Hard.  They were hard.  He
took one between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed it
tight with an indelicate grunt.  So good.  She felt so good.

"Mulder," she moaned out when he moved back to her neck.
Her windpipe seemed to constrict on her and she was
almost gulping for air now.

"Mmm...Scully..."  His was laving with his tongue around her
jawline.  She felt so lightheaded.  So overly warm.  "Mulder,
don't," she whispered, just before his mouth overtook hers
again.  She felt like she could explode.  But she knew this
had to stop.  She was trapped between his grinding lower
body and the counter.  He slipped his hands under the
waistband of her pajama bottoms and grabbed at her ass,
trying to lift her off the ground.  She gasped in fear this time. 
Then her hands balled into tiny fists and started pushing
against his chest, pushing him away.

Sudden realization hit him like a brick and he stumbled
back.  He stood a few feet away from her, gasping for air.
"Shit.  Shit."  He muttered under his breath.  He'd blown it.
God he'd completely blown it.  "Sorry...I...I'm sorry...I....shit."

"Damn you, Mulder!  Tell me where the fuck you were
today!"  She finally had the energy to scream with him
backed away.  She knew her face must be redder than her
hair right now and she still couldn't see him clearly.  They
were both panting heavily.  As she watched a drunk Mulder
try and formulate an intelligent answer, her anger increased
sevenfold.

He shook his head slowly, trying his hardest to regain some
semblance of coherence.  He needed to be not drunk.  He
needed to understand.  This was very, very important.  He
knew that it was.  She wanted to know where he was today.
How was he supposed to remember that now?  And what did
it have to do with what was happening?  With what he'd just
done?

"I...I think I was working.  Um...on the x-files.  I think I was
talking to Jane or something.  She thinks she's gonna get
abducted again."  He was proud to have managed that much
recollection.

"Mulder, do you have any idea how much Agent Domrose
has helped us recently.  How concerned he was with re-
opening the x-files.  We owed him.  You owed him."

More with Agent whoever.  Mulder felt dizzy and terribly
overwhelmed.  What did any of this have to do with sex?  He
took a deep breath and tried to focus.  He was starting to
understand that this was quite serious.  That he was on the
verge of something very bad happening.  If it hadn't already.

"Scully, who is Agent Dumbbutt and what was I supposed
to do to help him?"

She still couldn't believe his nerve.  She'd never seen him
act so self-servingly as he was now.  He didn't want her.  He
wanted to make her forget that he'd let her down.

"Agent Domrose, the laboratory division head!"  She rolled
her eyes and stalked out of the kitchen and away from him.
So far away.  She felt him at her heels, following her into the
living room.  "It's only been the topic of conversation in
every elevator, in the cafeteria, the parking garage, the
washrooms for the last 3 months."

"I quit listening to office gossip when I heard them start
making speculations about the size of my manhood," he
muttered, more to himself than her.

"You said you would help me out on this, that you would
show up for the hearing."  He looked like an ape.  A drunk,
horny, smelly ape, just standing there stupidly.  He still had
a goddamn erection for Christ's sake!  Her pulse pounded
painfully in her ears.

Hearing again.  Hearing, hearing, hearing.  He scanned
what was left of his brain for some kind of memory.  He had
none.

"I didn't even know there was a hearing today."

"How could you NOT have known?  Besides the fact that its
on everyone's lips, it's in all the papers across the country.
And furthermore," she held her hand out to stop him from
speaking, "Furthermore, I left you 3 messages this week and
a reminder on the voice mail that I needed any information
you had gotten by Friday morning."

"I never got any messages, Scully."  That he knew to be the
truth. He would have paid attention to her messages.  He
would have remembered.

She stood there, dumbfounded that he'd shamelessly lie to
her like that.  Lie to her and expect he could fuck it all away.
Her eyes began to tear.  "Do you know how much this man
has helped us out in the last five years, Mulder?  Now he's
in jeopardy of losing his position and going to jail and your
off playing knight in shining armor to this Jane woman."

"I don't think I had anything to help anyway Scully.  I
don't...I didn't..."  He ran his hand through his hair angrily. 
He needed to be clear.  He needed to be able to explain.
He still didn't understand how any of this was relevant,
though.  Was she just completely ignoring his advances?
Pretending they hadn't even happened and changing the
subject.  He wished if she didn't want him she'd just tell
him already instead of making excuses.

"Dammit, Mulder, dammit!   What the hell else have you
been doing all week long?   We aren't on any assignments
right now, you don't volunteer to help other departments,
and I know you haven't finished those profile write-ups
you'd promised Skinner weeks ago."   God, what in the
world was she talking about?  She was getting so worked
up, shouting and waving her arms.  Her face was red and
her eyes were watery with tears of frustration.  And
preaching to him about his work habits of all things.

"Answer my question, Mulder.  What sort of Bureau work
have you been doing all week?"

"Work for the X-files, that's what work.  Dammit Scully, I
know how to do my job.  I didn't..."  He felt himself choking
up with tears of frustration.  "I didn't come here for this," he
muttered quietly.

"And Mulder, did it even occur to you for a minute that
this woman is just toying with you?  And just what the hell
does this she have to do with our work on the X-files,
anyway?  She's your cleaning lady, Mulder, and frankly, I
think she's starting to develop an unhealthy affinity toward
you."  For a reason unknown to her, a scene of Jane and
Mulder laughing and writhing around together on his couch
while her unacknowledged voice played on the answering
machine in the background, popped into her head.  The
corners of her mouth twitched downwards.

"What does that mean?"  He turned towards her, angry and
confused.  First it was Agent Dumbbutt and now it was Jane.
It seemed like she wanted to talk about every irrelevant
thing in the world except for the fact that he'd just kissed her,
groped her, fucking attacked her.  He was starting to wonder
what the hell he had to do to get some acknowledgment
here.

"Mulder, come on.  She's over there all the time.  She calls
you constantly."  She was sounding more and more
accusing by the moment.  She hated herself for it, but she
needed to know why; why he'd been so intent on working
with this woman.

She shook her head and looked at him as if he were a small
child.  Or a complete mental defect.  God, she was really
fixating on this now.  He felt the need to explain this to her,
to make her understand why Jane's story was important to
him.  If for no other reason than it would be one less thing
for her to use as a distraction.

"Scully, she needs somebody.  She's been through hell.  A
hell that I think you of all people would understand."  Her
eyes dropped to the floor and he knew he'd gotten
something through.  Maybe now she would understand.  He
needed to work on this not just for himself but for Scully.
To figure out what had happened to her.  He wasn't a
selfish bastard.  Dammit, he wasn't. This was important for
both of them, whether she could see it or not.

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare use that as a fucking
excuse."

When he saw her face again he started to wonder if he'd
made a mistake.  Her lips were pressed tightly together and
her eyes were completely closed off to him.  Her voice had
dropped to a low threatening tone and he suddenly felt very,
very sober.  Why had he tried to explain?

"Scully.."

"No!"  She held her hand up as if she were warding him off.
"No.  Don't make this about protecting me.  I am so sick of
hearing that crap come out your mouth every time you blow
me off, or lie to me or keep something from me.  You're not
doing this for me, Mulder.  So don't fucking kid yourself,
alright?"  He looked so sad, so desperate standing there,
but she wasn't about to let him get to her like that anymore. 
"Jane isn't the point anyway, Mulder. The point is that..." 
She drifted off and turned her back on him.  

He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. He stood
before her completely speechless.  He didn't think he could
remember ever seeing her so angry at him.  This was
escalating far out of his control.  Why couldn't she see that
everything he did was about her?  What did he have to do to
make her see?

"What is Scully?  What's the point?  That you don't
understand a fucking thing about me or what I care about?"
He was surprised at the level of anger he felt.  He was
shaking her.  He dropped his hands when he realized he
might be hurting her and backed away.

"No."  She growled out through clenched teeth. "The point
is that after everything I have sacrificed for you, after
everything we've been through I thought the least I could
expect was that you would be there for me when I need a
favor.  That is the goddamn point."  He knew it was a good
point and that he should just apologize, just end this thing
right now but her words had cut him too deep.

"I didn't realize I'd been such a burden to you, Scully."  He
spat with more bitterness than he'd intended.

"Dammit Mulder, that's not what I'm saying." Her face was
turning bright red and she was shaking even more. "You
never fucking listen!  You hear what you want to hear and
ignore the rest!  God, this is so stupid.  So fucking pointless.
You're like a goddam brick wall. Just leave, Mulder."

Leave?  She wanted him to leave now?  In the middle of
this?  When they hadn't even dealt with anything important? 
Not this time.  Not now.

"No."

"Mulder, I want you to leave.  We'll pick this up on Monday." 
What was he doing?  Scully wondered if he wasn't just
completely hopeless.  If he'd ever pay attention to what she
said to him.

"I'm not leaving until we finish this, Scully. You've obviously
got a lot of resentment built up towards me and, I dunno
Scully, I'm starting to think again maybe you should have left
me when you wanted to in the first place."  The words felt
like poison on his tongue.  They were wrong.  This was all
wrong.

Her rapid heart rate slowed just long enough to skip over
three beats.   She wasn't sure if she had heard him right at
first.  She looked at him and remembered all he'd said to
make her stay.  Had they been lies?

"Maybe I should have."

She fixed him with a deadly glare and his heart sank and
shattered.  He flinched and bit down on his lip.  That was not
the right answer.  This was the part where she was
supposed to say, "No Mulder, I could never leave you.  Don't
you know that?"  This was the part where they were both
supposed to apologize, to remember all they'd been through
and to fall into a comforting embrace.  Why wasn't it
happening?  He felt a clenching panic, something he was
sure had to be similar to a heart attack.  But still he found
words pouring out of his mouth.  A challenge.  He needed to
know how serious she was, how far she would go.

"So why don't you, Scully?  Why don't you just put yourself
out of this misery and just go already?"  God no.  Please
Scully.  Just stop this.  Just tell me you can't.  Tell me you
won't.  Tell me you love me anyway.

"Get the fuck out of my house Mulder!  Now!"  His look was
contemptible. He crossed his arms over his chest and
smirked at her.  She felt the unusual urge to punch him in
the eye.  What the fuck did he think he was doing?

Her voice was cold as ice.  But her eyes.  Mulder looked
deep into her eyes and saw a glimmer of weakness, a tiny
flash that told him she didn't really want him to leave.

"Make me."

"Fuck you, Fox Mulder. FUCK YOU! I don't need this crap
and I don't need you now GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY
HOUSE!"  She stormed past him and pulled open the door.
For a moment all he could do was stare at her blankly in
shock.  She nodded towards the exit angrily and he realized
he had no choice. She was liable to pull out her gun in a
second.

end part 3

Desideratum One: Lost 
       by Rachel Anton and Laura Blaurosen
part 4/11

Tuesday, 12:10 am
Mulder's apartment

Jane yawned and stood, stretching her legs. She had no
idea how many hours she'd been sitting by that stupid
phone.  It was getting ridiculous already.  What the hell was
he doing?  He must have gotten into her apartment by now,
must have seen that she was gone, that her clothes were
gone.  After that fight, it only made sense that he'd assume
she'd left.  It was what Jane was counting on.

But would he look for her?  That was the question.  It was
really the key issue.  She still hadn't figured out a way to
ensure that he wouldn't.  She needed a way to tap into his
insecurities, to make him believe that she left him because
she wanted to and that he should just let her go.

She sank into the couch with a sigh and flipped on the
television.  If only he'd come home so that she could see
what the hell was going on.  News, news, news.  She gazed
disinterestedly at the screen flipping from channel to
channel.  Suddenly something caught her eye.  Or rather
someone.  It was him.  Mulder.   Mulder was on the
television.  He was walking around outside a crime scene of
some kind.  There were uniformed police officers and men in
suits and reporters.  There was a reporter standing in the
foreground.

Jane felt a tremor of excitement at seeing Mulder on the
television.  He looked so...official.  So in charge.  Running
around being Mister FBI.  She leaned in closer and tried to
get a better look at him.  He was talking to some short old
man.  Well, maybe talking wasn't the right word.  He was
waving his arms around frantically and his face was turning
red.  He looked angry and upset.

Jane leaned in nervously and turned up the volume.

"So far there appears to be little information forthcoming
from the FBI concerning the disappearance of Federal
Agent Dana Scully.  As far as we know there are no
substantial leads and there's been no official statement..."

Jane hit the off button on the remote and tried to take a
calming breath.  This was not good.  This was very, very
bad.  Cops already?  Her apartment a fucking crime scene?
She'd been careful.  She knew there were no clues to be
found in Scully's apartment.  At least she was relatively
certain.  Mulder was a damn good detective though.  If she'd
missed anything he would catch it without a doubt.

She felt her heart palpitating rapidly.  There was a chance.
What if she'd messed something up?  She couldn't go to jail.
She wouldn't.

She needed something else.  Something to make him stop
looking.  To convince him and everyone else that the bitch
had just left.  That she didn't want to be found.

2:45 am

Jane jumped at the sound of a key turning in the door.  She
looked down at the book on her lap nervously and shoved it
under the couch cushion.  She'd been reading Mulder's
journals avidly and was beginning to formulate a plan.

She looked towards the door and Mulder staggered in,
looking more haggard than she thought she'd ever seen
him. He seemed not to see her for a moment.  He closed
the door behind him and leaned against it, his body sagging,
and let out a heaving sigh.  His eyes slipped shut and he
buried his face in his hands.  He made a sound somewhere
between a moan and a sob.

"Mulder?"  He jerked up to attention and looked at her,
confused and startled.

"Jane?  What...what are you doing here?  It's so late."

"I was waiting for Scully to call like you said."  He squinted
questioningly for a second and then seemed to remember
his request for the first time.

"You didn't...you didn't have to wait here this whole time."
He walked towards her and for a minute she was sure he
was going to sit beside her.  But he continued past the
couch and stood by the desk, looking out the window.  He
stood in silence for a short while, staring blankly through
the glass.  "She didn't call did she?"

"Um...no.  No she didn't"  He let out a breath he seemed to
have been holding and turned to face her.

"Well, thanks anyway. You can go home now.  I don't think
she's going to be calling."  He seemed so hopeless.  Maybe
she didn't have to do anything.  Maybe he'd decided for
himself that she had left him.

"I don't have to leave.  Do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about...no.  No, there's nothing to talk about.  I'm not
staying anyway.  I just came back to take a shower."

"Where are you going?"

"To look for Scully."  He said it like it was the most obvious
thing in the world. Like she was a fool for even asking.

"Mulder, are you sure that's the best idea?  Maybe you
should rest.  Or at least talk to some..."

"Rest?  Talk?!  Are you fucking serious?"  He looked
extremely annoyed all of a sudden.  "Look Jane, thanks for
waiting here and all but you need to go home.  And I've
gotta get out of here."  He walked past her and headed
towards the bathroom.

"Mulder...," she called with her saddest voice.   He turned
and looked at her again with the same annoyed expression. 
She tried to show for him the severe disappointment she felt
for their lost evening.  Her heart pounded when she saw his
face relax a bit.

He ran a hand through his hair and then wiped his eyes.  He
sighed deeply and said, "Look, Jane, I'm sorry.  I shouldn't
have been so...Thanks.  Thanks a lot for staying like this, it
was really," he stopped a moment and moved closer to her. 
Jane met him half way.  "It was really wonderful of you."

Jane felt a wave of warmth pass through her entire body at
the sound of his now quiet, gentle tone.  She'd done
something right.  He thought she was wonderful.  And
despite the exhaustion present in his face, he looked
amazing.  Her heart pounded even faster at the realization
of just how close he was to her.  She felt her breath quicken
when he raised his eyebrows in request of forgiveness.  She
smiled as lovingly as she possibly could.  Before he could
go away she spoke, "Mulder, I hate to ask you this now,
but," she trailed off, unsure of how to ask him.

"What is it, Jane?"  Oh God, his voice was like velvet.

"What about the regression?"  She lifted her head and
provided him with a pathetic gaze.

He opened his mouth and moved away from her.  "Jane, I,"
he started.  "I don't think we'll be able to do that any time
soon.  In fact, I'm not sure if we'll be able to do it at all.  I
can't...I've got to...I've gotta find her."

"But Mulder, I'm afr-," she stopped because he was already
gone from the room.

                    
              
Jane Harris' Apartment
3:00 a.m.

"Dammit!"  Scully heard Jane burst through the front door
and storm through the living room.  She threw open the
door to Scully's room and flipped the light switch.  She
stared at Scully, her eyes wild with anger.

"This is just great.  Fucking great."  She moved to the
wardrobe and pulled out a large envelope out of one of the
drawers.

Scully watched Jane in her fit and spoke quietly, "Jane. 
Jane, please, I need some water.  Please."

Jane seemed to not have heard Scully speak, as she
attended to dumping the contents of the envelope onto the
table next to the bed.  She sat down in the chair and fished
through the blank sheets of paper.  "No fucking way.  You've
got to do this for me."  

She moved to the bed and leaned down to Scully's face. 
She squeezed Scully's earlobe between two fingers, the
pressure ever increasing.  "And if you try anything,
ANYTHING, Dana Scully, I'll break both of your legs." 
Scully sucked in her bottom lip and held her breath when
Jane started pulling her earring down the lobe, tearing some
of the skin.  "I am so fucking serious.  You are NOT going
to ruin this for me.  Do you understand?"

Scully nodded and Jane pulled her to the chair.  The pages
in front of her were a blur and for a moment she thought she
would vomit all over them.  When Jane handed her a pen,
she realized she must be expecting her to take down her
ransom letter.  Or her suicide note?  Her heart leapt to her
throat.

"Take a letter, agent Scully."

xxxxxx

Slowly waking, Scully became aware that her head ached
worse now than it had ever.  She examined her arm as best
she could and determined now that it must be broken, from
the way it looked and the intense throbbing she felt.  It took
her only an instant to remember what Jane had made her do
last night.  Write that damn letter, her right arm aching so
badly she thought she'd faint.  Damn that woman and damn
Mulder's stupid obsessions.  How could he have let himself
be sucked into this woman's story?

She'd written Mulder a farewell letter.  A letter that had
actually been written once by she herself.  The words were
different, but in a way it had been the gist of what she'd said
in the one she wrote him, years ago, just before they'd been
shut down the first time.

He threatened to swallow her whole, with her career and
her emotions if she didn't keep herself in check.  She kept
asking herself where was she hoping to go, spending her
novice years in the FBI with this man everyone seemed to
liken to a lunatic.  Shoved away in some basement closet,
gathering dust with her 'partner'.  

What she had essentially written Mulder was a 'Dear John'
letter, once she had it down on paper.  She laughed to
herself upon reading it over, because it really didn't even
mention anything about their partnership at all.  The truth of
the matter was that she was frightened by the way she was
beginning to feel about this man.  Frightened to death,
because she knew how dangerous it might be to become too
involved with Fox Mulder.  So in a fleeting moment of
terror, she decided she didn't want to stick around long
enough to find out.

But instead she followed him out to the Olympic National
Forest, where she realized just how very deeply she cared
for him.   She knew it then beyond a doubt and so she told
him in a darkened car that she'd never put herself on the
line for anyone but him.  She meant it and the letter was
subsequently burned.  Now things were so very different. 
Now she knew that she loved him and that she cherished
him and that she wanted him, but still she continued to push
him away.

Mulder can't get that letter, she thought in extreme fear. 
She was in such pain and feeling very weak, but still was
overcome with a desperate need to get out of there and to
get to Mulder before that letter did.  The syntax was so like
her own, it was uncanny.  She was terrified he would let his
self-pity and guilt overtake common sense and in believing
it, drive himself to doing something stupid.  And if she
didn't get out of where she was right now a whole human
being he would never forgive himself for the things that he'd
done.  For the things that had been said.  

"Jane?"  she called weakly.  One, two, three; nothing. 
"Jane?"  she yelled a little louder.  Still no response.  Taking
a deep breath and filling her abdomen with air, she yelled
"Help!  Somebody, please help me!"  The 'me' came out
sounding very restricted and she then began to cough. 
Cough so hard, it hurt her ribs.  She tried to yell again, this
time moving closer to the wall behind her, hoping the
neighbors would hear.  

She was having a difficult time breathing and her heart was
racing fast, dangerously so.  She cried in frustration.  Her
arms ached so badly from Jane's violent handling of her, but
she tried to ignore the pain and still bang the headboard into
the wall.  "Help," she cried again with tears in her voice,
"HELP ME, someone."

Angry with herself for not having been able to get out of the
situation before it had ever come to this, she grunted in
anguish.   She gripped a leg of the table she had just written
the letter at with both of her feet and pulled it down toward
her, then knocked it over, throwing it down as forcefully as
she possibly could.

"Help me, I'm in here, I need help," she pleaded again to
any potential rescuer.

She heard a noise from the floor below.  Someone was
yelling at her to keep the racket down.  "No, please..." she
paused and caught her breath,  "I need your help."  She
reached for the chair as she did with the table and was able
to fling it part way across the room, slamming into the
wardrobe.

"KNOCK IT OFF!"  This time she heard the complaint
clearly.  

She was sweating and panting from the exertion and
collapsed to the floor, where she stayed, trying to relax long
enough for the shooting pain in her arm to diminish. She
looked around for another way to make noise, but found
nothing within her reach.

Oh God, Mulder.  Where are you?  I need you.

xxxxxx

Jane pulled up and parked in front of Mulder's building. 
She had just picked up some new plants for the garden,
wanting to celebrate; mark the day she dropped off the
letter that was going to change all of their lives in a
wonderful way.

She lingered on the sidewalk in front of Mulder's building
before going across the street, hoping he might catch a
glimpse of her.  As she did, she noticed a police car
rounding the corner  a few blocks down.  Struck with the fear
that car was meant for her, that she might be found out, she
ran to her building and up the stairs to her apartment.  She
took care not to run into anyone and when she reached her
door, she heard Scully screaming weakly.

Bounding through the door, she met Scully with a look of
volatile anger.  "Fucking bitch!" she yelled at her and then
went to look out the window.  The Arlington squad car was
double-parked in front of the building, and she watched as
two officers got out of it and headed inside.

"Shit, shit!  Goddam you ya little cunt, now the police are
here!  Fuck!"  She paced around the room, looking for a
place to put her hostage.  She eyed Scully and then eyed
the wardrobe.  Going to it, she pulled out all of the clothes
that were hanging in it, and threw them onto the bed. 
Quickly as ever, she pulled a rag tightly around her head,
removed the chain from the headboard and pulled Scully off
of the bed.  Jane kept one hand on Scully's arm, squeezing
tightly and the other in her hair, pulling her head back and
twisting it so that Scully cried out.  This time, however, the
cry was markedly stifled.

"Would ya shut-up already?  Jeez!"  Jane whispered
harshly.

She shoved Scully into the wardrobe.  Naturally, Scully
fought her, until Jane put a grip around her neck, causing
Scully to become lightheaded and consequently a little limp. 
Jane was then better able to get her into the piece of
furniture and lock its door.  

She then ran and dialed Mulder. He picked up just in time,
for she heard a pounding at the door.

"Jane Harris?  Ms. Harris, open up!  Police!"

"Just a second, please."

"Listen, Jane, I'm really kind of busy right now, I'm really
sorry.  Would it be alright if I called you later on?"  He
obviously hadn't found the letter yet.  Damn.  

"Oh, Mulder, please, please could you come over?  Look
outside your window, the police are here and they're at my
door, I don't know what's going on, they're yelling for me
to let them in and I don't know why..." she threw in a sharp
breath,  "Mulder, what do I do?  Do I have to let them in?"

"Alright, just stay where you are.  I'll come over."

xxxxxx

"Damn! Dammit! Fucking shit!" Mulder grumbled a
seemingly endless stream of obscenities as he stalked
out of his apartment and across the street.  He'd just tried
to contact an old source and sometimes informant, only
to find that the man's phone had been disconnected.  He'd
been about to rush back to the office and check in with the
lab about the fingerprints he'd lifted from Scully's apartment
when Jane had called.

He'd been so anxious to leave he'd almost hung up on her. 
But then he'd remembered the way she'd waited by his
phone last night for hours and hours.  He supposed he owed
her something for that.  Scully would have told him to go
and help her.  She was his conscience.  Too bad he only
listened when she wasn't around.

When he reached her apartment the door was open. There
were two uniformed police officers standing in her living
room and she was shaking her head and crying.  It was a
strange scene to say the least but Mulder was too distracted
to really give it a moment's thought.

"Um, is there some problem here?"

One of the cops turned to him.  "There was a disturbance
reported here by one of the neighbors.  Who are you?"

Mulder flashed his badge and introduced himself and the
cops exchanged a glance.  "It seems like whatever problem
there was it's been taken care of, guys.  Why don't we leave
the lady alone."  He rocked back and forth on his heels
anxiously, hoping that he could get out of here soon.

"Uhh...yeah sure. I guess you can handle it."  Mulder
nodded and led the two men to the door. When they were
gone he turned back to Jane.

xxxxxx

Mulder's voice.  That's Mulder's voice.

She couldn't make out the words, but she knew he was
here.  She grunted weakly.  Then she tried a wail.  Nothing. 
There was still talking.  "Mulder, help me," she tried to
scream through the gag.  With what strength she had, she
attempted to knock herself into the back of the wardrobe,
hoping to effect some noise that way.  With the first blow,
she sucked in a hard breath.   The pain in her arm
intensified greatly and her eyes welled with tears.  She
cried.  It hurt so much she thought she would vomit again,
right where she was.

Suddenly the talking became louder and she heard the door
open.  Thank God, he knew she was here.  He was going to
take her home.  Thank God.

She heard his voice more clearly now.  She whimpered as
much as she could, but they were making too much noise;
Mulder and Jane and other men?  Police, maybe?  She
thought she heard the clinking of handcuffs and a
short-wave radio hissing on and off periodically.

Her crying was not attracting their attention and she was
squeezed in the piece of furniture so tightly that it made it
impossible to even tap her foot with any sort of force.
Frustrated, she cried some more.

*Mulder, I'm here, can't you hear me?  Don't you know
I'm here?*  

She heard only Mulder and Jane speaking now.  

"Are you okay?"  Mulder asked her.

"Yes, yes I think so," Jane responded with phony tears in
her voice.  Then, "...much...so afraid...I don't know what
I'd have done without you here...wonderful..."

She heard Mulder mumbling something quietly again.  She
concentrated on the sound of his voice as though she
believed it would be the last time she would ever hear it.

*Mulder, I need you help.  Please.  I'm so sorry.  Don't
leave me here.*

"Gotta go...call if you need...I need to go, Jane," Mulder
said.

And then Scully heard him no more.

xxxxxx

Tuesday, 9:45 p.m.
Mulder's apartment

Mulder staggered through his door and tossed his coat in
the general direction of the coat wrack.  He missed.
Everything was so blurry.  And moving.  Inanimate objects
shouldn't move like that.  He rubbed his eyes, trying to wipe
out the haze covering them but that only made things worse.
He knew what he really needed was sleep.  But that wasn't
an option.  God knew he'd been here enough times to know
that.

He had nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  No leads, no clues.  It
was as if she'd vanished without a trace.  He knew there had
to be something he was missing.  Something his brain
wasn't allowing him to see.  Something he was too
distracted to catch.  If only he hadn't gone to her apartment
that night.  God only knew how different things might be.

He asked himself again what in the world he had been
thinking.  Why had he done it?  What kind of hormone-
driven fit had he been in?  Fucking psychotic moron sexually
assaulting his partner in the middle of the night.  What the
hell was wrong with him?

As he walked past the dinner table, busily berating himself,
he noticed something out of the corner of his eye.  It was an
envelope with his name written on it in big black letters. 
Someone had put it there.  Someone with a key.

He sat down at the table and took the envelope in his hands. 
They were shaking.  His whole body was shaking.  He ran
his finger over the top of the envelope.  It was about Scully.
He knew that.  He needed to open it right away but he was
gripped with an inexplicable fear, panic almost. He didn't
want to open it.

As soon as he ripped open the seal and saw the plain white
stationary, the neat, small handwriting, he understood.  And
he felt a wracking sob building from deep within his chest
before he read a single word.


Mulder,

I hope that you can find it within you to forgive me for not
delivering this message in person.  I think you know as well
as I do that if I were to speak with you face to face, you
would find the words, the motions, to change my mind.
You've always known how to manipulate me, so subtly that
I could barely discern it, and this time I cannot afford to be
swayed in that way.  This time, my decision needs to be
final, written in stone.


After reading this first paragraph Mulder was struck by the
realization that she had come here, to his apartment.  She'd
been in this room.  And recently.  How recently?  Had he
missed her by a matter of minutes?

Without a second thought he jumped out of his seat and
raced to the hallway.  He looked around frantically and
called out her name.  The hall was deserted.  His voice
echoed against the walls.

He ran to the elevator and pressed the down button.  After
fifteen seconds he decided that it was taking too long and
bolted to the stairwell.  He descended, taking two, three,
four stairs at a time.  His heart pounded violently in his
chest. She had been here. She had been right fucking here.
And he might be able to catch her. He didn't stop to
consider for a moment what he would say to her if he did.

Finally he hit the lobby of his building and upon entering the
room, called out her name again.  Again no one answered 
him.  He moved out to the darkened street and stood on the
sidewalk, scanning the area for her car, for her face.

"Scully!"  He was shouting now.  People walked past him,
some staring, most ignoring.  He just looked like another
lunatic roaming the streets of the city.

After spanning the three or four mile circumference around
his building he realized that she wasn't in the immediate
vicinity and that he had no way of knowing what direction
she'd headed in.  He spotted the homeless man who slept in
the alley next to his building and ran over to him.  He was
always there. Maybe he saw.

Mulder threw a twenty dollar bill in the man's lap.

"Wow, thanks..."

"Did you see a woman?"

"Yeah I've seen a bunch."

"No, I mean recently.  Like in the past few hours.  A...a
small woman, about this tall,"  He held his hand up to the
middle of his chest, "red hair, chin length, real pretty face..."

"That one who's always comin' over your place?"

"Yes, yeah, that one."

The man shook his head.  "Haven't seen her today.  Sorry."

"Shit.  Are you sure?  Have you been here all day?"  The
man nodded and shrugged.

Mulder looked around for someone else to ask but everyone
on the street was walking from one place to another, in a
hurry.  No one looked like they'd been in this particular spot
for very long.  Maybe someone in his building had seen her.

He started on the first floor, knocking on door after door,
questioning his neighbors in an increasingly frantic way.  He
worked his way back to his own hall and by the time he
reached his next door neighbor he was discouraged and
frustrated enough to start crying in front of the old man. 
The guy actually asked him if he wanted to come in and talk
about it.

When all possibilities seemed to have been exhausted he
returned to the apartment.  To the letter.  To what seemed
to be his destiny.

He grabbed the letter from the table and sank into the couch
with it, preparing himself for words he knew were bound to
destroy him.  And then he read.


end part 4

	
Desideratum I: Lost 
     by Rachel Anton and Laura Blaurosen
part 5/11


Tuesday, 10:50pm
Jane's apartment


Scully gasped sharply and sat up straight in the bed.  

"Oh God, Mulder, no!"

She had no idea why she'd said it.  She knew only that she'd
been struck with the overwhelming fear that Mulder was in
danger, that he was going to get hurt.  Her heart pounded as
she tried to shake the feeling.  Her breath quickened and
she felt very sweaty.  And suddenly terribly sad.

She saw Mulder in his apartment.  Not in front of her, but in
her head, as in a waking dream.  His apartment was
absolutely trashed.  Papers, broken glass, garbage, books
carpeted the floor.  The only piece of furniture that was not
overturned was his couch where he sat.  His body was
hunched over and he held his head in his hands as he
rocked himself back and forth. 

Then she saw him get up and lay his hands on his TV, as
though he was going to pick it up.  He then stepped back
suddenly and drew his arm behind him, then brought it
forcefully back and clear through the screen of the television
set.  He threw his head back in a pained scream and
dropped to the floor.

"Oh God, Mulder, no!"  she yelled toward the window. 
"Mulder, no!"

"I don't think he can hear you, darling."  

It was Jane, standing in the doorway, leaning into the door
frame with a smirk on her face.  "Jane, please...," she
begged

"Jane, please, Jane, please,"  she mocked her.  "You know
how sick to death I am of hearing that?"  

"Jane, please listen. I know how much you care about
Mulder,"  Scully yelled weakly.  "Now you need to go over
to Mulder's and help him.  I think he's just seriously injured
himself."

It seemed that caught Jane's attention for a brief moment at
least.  She was deciding whether or not to believe her. 
"Yeah, right.  How the hell would you know?  What are
you, psychic or something?  You can't see him from here!"

Jane's words rang true to Scully better judgment.  She had
no way of knowing if it was a stress-induced hallucination
or not.  What she was more than sure of was the absolute
feeling of desperation she had not for her own sake, but for
Mulder's.  All she cared about at the moment was knowing
if Mulder was alright.   Jane was her only hope.   "I don't
know how I know.  I just have, I just have a feeling."  She
sighed deeply, not knowing quite where the words she
spoke were coming from.  "Look.  Please.  We need to
stop him from hurting himself."

Jane laughed wickedly.  "'We' aren't going to do anything,
Ms. Scully.  You're just trying to trick me.  Into what, I
don't know, but if you think for a minute you can talk
yourself out of this situation, you're crazy.  Well, crazier
than you already are acting."  She stood at the foot of the
bed and laughed at Scully, shaking her head.

"My, we aren't very thick-skinned, are we?  Doesn't take
much to make you lose your mind does it?" She clicked her
tongue loudly.  "And Mulder says you're the strong one. 
Ha!"  She moved over to Scully and leaned down.  Taking
Scully by surprise, Jane grabbed her by the hair and pulled. 
"Well, we're finding out the truth now, aren't we?"

She laughed again as she slammed the bedroom door shut
and then went to her garden.  As she stood and admired the
fruits of her labors, her curiosity got the better of her and
she was desperate to see Mulder.  Maybe he was busy,
busy doing what she adored watching him do to himself. 
She felt herself become very warm upon the recollection as
she looked with great anticipation through the camera.  Her
eyes lit up at what she saw.  

She ran and checked herself in the mirror.  She looked
stunning, of course.  Two minutes to curtain, Ms. Harris,
you'll be playing the part of the doctor tonight in Agent
Scully's place.  She smiled and giggled at the images of she
and Mulder together which her brain was offering.  

"Perfect!"  She exclaimed as she flew out of the bathroom. 
She was laughing almost uncontrollably.  "This is too
fucking PERFECT!!"  She yelled excitedly.

xxxxxx

I suppose that by now you've noticed my absence, that
you've spared no degree of time and expense in pursuit of
me.  I am writing this to free you of that burden.  I am
writing this to let you know that I do not want to be found.

First of all I need to tell you that this decision is not based
solely on our confrontation Friday night.  This is not an
impetuous move born out of the heat of the moment.  While
it's true that the events of that night created a certain sense
of urgency, a need to escape this vicious, mutually
destructive path we are on as soon as possible, the issues
brought out were not new.

The fact is that although we've spent these years supporting
each other to a certain extent, I can no longer ignore the
fact that we create more suffering in each other's lives than
happiness.

We've faced this impasse before.  Last time my desire to
part ways was motivated almost entirely by the need to
protect you.  I felt that my presence in your life was a
hindrance, that I held you back from achieving your goals
and that I was used as a tool by those who wished to harm
you.  These concerns have not dissipated.  I realize that you
think that you need me. I can imagine you now, as I write,
shaking your head in protest as you read.  But Mulder, your
refusal to acknowledge my damaging influence, your ever
growing dependence on me, only adds to the problem.

And the problem is mine as well.  This time I leave, not only
for your protection but also for my own.  I need to heed
your words Mulder, to find a life of my own, to be a doctor
while I still can, to flea before I am swallowed whole.

I hope that you can understand this need and that you can
let me go, and eventually forgive.  I know that you are
afraid, that you believe yourself unable to face the future on
your own.  That is part of the reason I need to go, so that
you can learn your own strength. You have it in you to
continue this journey and I need you to do just that.  And I
need you to stop looking for me Mulder.  I need you to give
me up, for  both our sakes.  If you try to find me you will
fail and were you to succeed, nothing would be
accomplished.  I need you to give me my life back.  I need
you to let me be happy, to let yourself have some peace.

I need you to hear me when I say good-bye, Mulder.

Good-bye forever,

Scully

He sat on the couch for a long time, staring blankly at the
words on the paper, not fully absorbing their meaning.  He
read it again.  And again.  And again.  And slowly it began
to sink in. It sank deeper and deeper, penetrating his mind,
seeping into his soul, his heart, his blood.

She was leaving him.  Not leaving, she'd left.  She'd already
left. Not the bureau, not the X-files, but him.  Forever.

He stood on trembling legs and brought the letter to his
desk, to read it under better light.  Maybe he'd missed
something.  Maybe there was a word or a sentence he'd
skipped by accident.

He sat at the desk and read every single word.

Written in stone.

I do not want to be found.

Mutually destructive path.

Damaging influence.

Head your words.

Swallowed whole.

Let me be happy.

Good-bye.

Good-bye.

Good-bye.

Forever.

The words began to blur as tears clouded his vision.  His
hands trembled as he opened the top drawer of his desk,
placed the letter there with a strange, gentle reverence.  It
was all he had of her.  All he would ever have.

He closed the drawer and stared blankly at his computer
screen.  His e-mail file was open and he saw the 15
messages he'd sent her in the past 24 hours staring back at
him.  Messages that would never get a response.

For some reason this was the final straw, the thought that
caused the reality of the situation to fully register.  His
hands twitched on the desk top.  He bit his lower lip, trying
to hold back the helpless wail he felt building.  It didn't
work.  He let out a cry, similar to that of a wounded animal,
and sent the contents of his desktop hurtling to the floor,
including the computer.

Unsatisfied with the level of release that provided he stood
and moved to his coffee table, knocking it over and
breaking a lamp in the process.  It wasn't enough.  It could
never be enough.

With a desperate abandon he began knocking over
bookcases, end tables, lamps, chairs, dumping papers, dirty
dishes.  All souvenirs of another life.  A life that was over
now.

He noticed his journals spread out on the floor.  Words. His
words.  More useless stupid words that never got him
anywhere.

I want her so much.

Thank God she didn't leave me.

I hope she can forgive me.

So beautiful.

I love her.

I need her.

I want her.

He ripped the pages angrily from one book after another,
tearing them to shreds.  Stupid, stupid thoughts.  Pages and
pages of pathetic, obsessive, dangerous thoughts.

He moved onto his video collection.  So many tapes.
Almost one for every fucking day he'd spent imagining that
he and Scully were the people on the screen.  Sick
thoughts.  Sick wishes.  Wishes that made her go away.

He pulled the tapes out of their plastic cases, willing
everything they represented in his life to disappear along
with them.  And chanting.

"I'm sorry Scully.  I'm sorry.  Sorry.  Sorry."

Soon his entire apartment was trashed beyond recognition.
And she was still gone.  It hadn't brought her back and it
hadn't given him any sort of satisfaction.

He collapsed to his knees amidst the debris, in front of the
television set.  There was a woman on the screen, her
mouth open in a mute cry as she writhed under the hands
of a faceless man.  Disgusting.  Dirty disgusting foul pig. 
Of course she left.  Who would stay?

He wrapped his hand into a fist and sent it crashing
through the screen.

xxxxxx

Jane knocked tentatively on Mulder's door, excited but
slightly nervous.  He'd seemed extremely unstable when
she'd seen him through the window.  That was likely to
work in her advantage but she wasn't entirely sure what to
expect.

She heard a muffled groan in response to her knock.  And
then something that sounded like "Go away."

She tried the handle and found the door unlocked.  She
moved into the apartment and shut the door behind her.
He was still sitting on the floor like a blubbering fool.  He
was staring at the shattered screen of the television set,
seemingly oblivious to the tattered, bloody remains of his
arm.  It looked like he was kneeling in glass too.

"Mulder?"  She spoke softly.  He looked up and she saw
that he had some cuts and scrapes on his face as well.  And
that there were tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Huh?"  He looked at her like he'd never seen her before in
his life.

"Mulder what happened?  Are you alright?"  She rushed to
his side and sat down in the debris with him.  He shook his
head no and continued staring at the television.

"Left me...she...she left..."  Perfect.  Absolutely perfect. 
He'd finally noticed the letter.  And bought it hook, line and
sinker.

"Oh Mulder, I'm so sorry."  She reached out and stroked his
hair gently.  As sick as it made her to see him in such
despair over that stupid witch, she had to admit there was
something incredibly sexy about him this way.

"She...she left....she...I can't find her..."  No you can't.  And
you never will.  He'd finally given up.  Thank God.

She crawled around to sit in front of him, between his
knees.  She took his face in her hands and forced him to
look at her.  His eyes were unfocused but he seemed to
recognize that  she was actually there for the first time.

"Jane?"

"Yes Mulder.  It's me.  I'm here."  She ran her thumb down
his cheek, wiping away his tears.

"She left."  He said it as if he were telling her something
she didn't already know.  As if he hadn't been babbling
about it since she'd  come in.

"I know Mulder.  I'm sorry.  I...I don't understand..."

"She left."

"I know but...but why?  I mean..."  She looked deep into his
eyes and whispered, "how?"

"She left."  She felt a twitch of annoyance.  He was fucking
incoherent.  He was never going to appreciate her being
here and taking care of him if she couldn't even
communicate with him.  And then he seemed to wobble for
a second on his knees.  He looked like he was about to fall
over.  And he grabbed her shoulders.  He grabbed her.  He
was touching her!  Squeezing her so tight, she felt like
she would burst from it.

"I don't understand how she could.  How anyone could
leave you.  Mulder, any woman would be thrilled to have
you. Lucky."

"She left."  Dammit!  Her words were going completely
over his head.  She needed something more drastic.  She
needed to stop hinting and let him know that she was there
for him in every conceivable way.  She needed to snap him
the fuck out of this.

"Mulder, she was wrong to leave.  If she was foolish
enough to leave you, she doesn't deserve you at all. You
need someone who understands and accepts you. 
Someone who can take care of you."

"She..."  he drifted off and looked at her curiously.  "What?"
His lips parted in confusion.  Beautiful, sexy confusion.  Or
was it something else?  An invitation perhaps?  
Acknowledgment that she spoke the truth?  That he finally
understood what she could give him.  Either way, she'd
gotten something through.  He was there.  Kind of.

She weighed her options briefly.  It was time.  The way he
was looking at her, the way his lips were open and moist,
he was waiting for her.  He wanted her to help him, to take
away the pain and give him a real life, a real woman.  This
was the moment.  There was no need to wait anymore.  He
was ready for her and God knew she was ready for him. 
His skin was cold under her hand but his breath was warm
on her face.  He was so beautiful, even now.  God, it was
time already.

She leaned in and placed her lips gently over his.

xxxxxx

When she heard her squeals of delight, Scully was certain
that Jane had seen what she had just imagined.  She was
both relieved and frightened that Jane had gone over to
Mulder's. 

She turned and attempted to get more comfortable in the
bed.  She was so weak, she felt sick.  Dizzy.  Tired.  And
her bladder was killing her.  She knew it wasn't doing her a
bit of good lying there with the urge, but she had been so
terrified to even get out of the bed as long as she knew Jane
was around.  Jane had proven herself to be so absolutely
unpredictable and incredibly maniacal that Scully never
knew what to expect from her.   One minute she seemed
sane, the next she was terrifying.  Either way, she was
scared to death to even breathe wrong.

She was going crazy.  Jane wasn't joking. 

Jane had been thoughtful enough to allow the chain she
was on reach to the adjoining bathroom, which was nice
save the fact that Scully couldn't help feeling like some kind
of pet animal, allowed only a few feet of freedom in which to
lie down in and to relieve itself. 

Scully stood up from the toilet and used the arm that wasn't
hurting to pull her pants up again.  She had to hang on to
the counter suddenly to keep from toppling over.  Then she 
grabbed her arm. Her unbroken arm.  Pain shot through it,
sending a throbbing up to her shoulder and out through her
fingertips.  She squeezed her eyes shut and slid down the
vanity to the floor.  

"Ahhh-" she gasped and cried.  It felt like someone had
taken a scissors to her arm cutting her in a hundred different
places at the same time.  The pain was unbearable.  She
knelt over the toilet, feeling so nauseous from it.  The
dizziness overtook her again and she sat back on the floor.

*Mulder, hear me, please.  Mulder, don't do this,*  she
willed with all her might until her all went dark on her again.
 
xxxxxx

It took Mulder several minutes to comprehend what was
happening.  He sat on his knees with his eyes open,
completely motionless, as Jane kissed him.  He felt hands
stroking his face, lips moving on his mouth, a body in front
of him, moving ever closer.  But the whole thing seemed far
away, as if it were happening to someone else.  It was so
out of place, so unexpected, that it didn't even register in
his mind.

His mind was in another place.  His mind was in a dark,
empty place where she left me was the only thought, the
only reality.

Then he felt her hands, running over his body in a totally
invasive way and he pulled back.  She was touching him.
Why was she touching him?  How long had she been
touching him?

He felt strangely violated.  And he couldn't help but wonder
if this is how he'd made Scully feel.  Coming to her
apartment uninvited in the middle of the night, kissing her,
touching her, making aggressive, unwanted advances.  It
must have been. God, it must have been.

Except that this woman was practically a stranger.  His
cleaning lady, for God's sake.  He had done this to the
woman who was supposed to be his friend.  His best friend. 
His only friend.  The woman he'd isolated and alienated
from the rest of the world so that he was her only friend as
well.  He was starting to understand fully the depths of his
betrayal.

And honestly, Jane was a woman, he was a man.  He could
stop this easily.  He could overpower her in a second. 
Scully hadn't had that advantage.  He was so much bigger
than her.  As strong and brave as she was, he towered over
her.  He knew he could overpower her if he was ever so
inclined. Not that he would ever try but the knowledge was
there and he was sure she knew it too.  She must have been
at least a little scared. Intimidated.  By him.  His Scully. 
He'd scared her and violated her and come damn close to
raping her.  He knew he wouldn't have gone that far, that as
soon as he knew that she was unhappy with what he was
doing he had stopped.  But she hadn't known that.  Not
really.  For all she knew, he could have kept going.  God
knew it took long enough for him to realize that she was
angry and not aroused.  What if he'd been a little bit more
drunk? What if he'd never noticed at all?

*God Scully, I'm so sorry.  If you'd come back to me I'd
make it all up to you.  Please come back.  Can't you see
what I am without you?*

He wondered if he thought hard enough, would she hear?

*Mulder, hear me....*  Her voice, distant and tinny, as if she
were speaking through a metal can, echoed in his mind. It
was quiet but it was there.  He felt it.

Then he looked down at his arm and realized he was
probably going into shock, hallucinating.  And he also
realized that Jane was still there and that she was still
fondling and kissing him.  He jerked back from her lips.

"Jane what...what are you doing?"  He noticed that she was
breathing heavily.  That her skin was flushed.  She was
turned on.  She wanted him.  SHE fucking wanted him. 
The irony was painful and funny and pathetic.

She seemed not to have heard him at all.  Her hands were
still all over him, moving over his chest, slowly downward,
starting to unbutton his shirt.  She started moving her mouth
over his neck, licking and sucking him.  She lifted his
uninjured arm and placed it on her side, almost on her
breast. She was moaning and sighing and grinding against
him.  She wasn't stopping, wasn't listening to him. Didn't she
feel him moving away?  Didn't she fucking hear him?

"Jane. What are you doing?"  He said it louder and more
forcefully this time.  She pulled back a bit and looked at
him with a confused frown.

"I thought that...that I...that we..."  God how truly sad.
What a completely and totally sad pair they made.  He
wondered  if anyone ever got the person they wanted.  If
love was the cruelest enemy he'd ever faced.

"Jane, you should go home now."

"But...I..." He saw tears beginning to form in her eyes. He
wished he could feel some sympathy at least.  Something
human.  But he was empty.  There was nothing left inside.

"You need to go."

"Mulder, I don't want to go now.  We should at least talk..."

"Jane please, go."  Why wasn't she listening to him?  What
the fuck did he have to do to get through to this woman?  
To get her out of his apartment so that he could mourn his
life in private.

"Mulder at least let me look at your arm.  You need a
doctor."  She reached over and touched his blood soaked
limb.  A doctor.  Yeah he needed a fucking doctor alright.
But only one doctor. His doctor. What the fuck was she
doing?  Trying to be his doctor, to take care of him, to fill
her place.  He jerked back from her and tried to stand.
Everything spun on its axis and he felt like he was going to
throw up.  He staggered backwards and hit the floor on his
ass.

"Jane get out of here."

"Mulder please, let me take you to the hospital.  Or at
least let me clean and dress that for you."

"Get.  The fuck.  OUT!"  It took all the energy he had to
shout the last word.  He was starting to see white spots. By
the time she walked out the door he was unconscious.

xxxxxx

"SHIT! God..." she picked up a lamp and contemplated
throwing it, "DAMMIT!"  She threw herself on the couch
and cried a little. Why can't I do this?  I've done it before.  
It was so easy those other times.

Jane had seen Mulder as a real challenge and worth the
work because she felt so strongly about him. He was tall
and beautiful and strong and he smelled so good.  He was
smart, not like the others, they were smart and successful
and rich too, but they didn't share any of that with her. 
After a while she realized she had become just a mistress
with a paycheck.  She wanted more.  She wanted love. 
Mulder seemed to really care about her, about her problems
and her feelings.  So maybe he could be a person that
would
love her.

But why the hell couldn't Mulder just forget about her?  

Jane's earlier tears had dried up completely now and she
paced the living room, getting more and more enraged.  She
should be taught a lesson.  She needed to be taught one.
Mulder didn't belong to her, she didn't even deserve
Mulder!  People like that deserved nothing and Jane needed
to be the one to show pretty little Dana what life is all
about.  That she wasn't always the best, the prettiest, the
most wanted.   

She ran over to the room where she was keeping Scully and
threw the door open. 

Gone.  She was gone.  "Oh, fuck!" she whispered to herself
and felt her heart beating in her larynx.  Where the hell
could she have gone? 

She ran over to the bathroom.  On the floor, Miss Priss lay,
asleep, far from peacefully, however.  Her breath was
shallow and was moaning, calling Mulder's name.

Of course.  Well, sorry, sweetheart, Mulder's not going to
save you this time.  He's not going to save you because you
don't deserve him.  

"You can't even take a piss on your own, why the hell
would does he even want you?"  She pulled Scully up
roughly.

"What?" Scully said groggily.  "What are you-ahh!  Oh, God
Jane, my arm, my arm."

"What I'm saying is," she grunted and threw Scully onto the
bed.  "From now on you're gonna go when I say you can." 
She wrapped some rope around Scully's wrists and pulled. 
"You're gonna eat when I say."  She attached the rope to
the bed frame.  "And you'll drink when I say you can."  She
repeated the same with her feet.  


Scully hardly heard what Jane had said to her through her
worry for Mulder.  "What happened, Jane?  What happened
to Mulder?   Did you take him to a hospital?"  She paused
and coughed, catching her breath.  "Please, just tell me he's
okay," she begged her.

"I don't know if he is or not," was all she answered.

"What?"  Forgetting her pain for an instant, she shot up as
far as her restraints would allow.  "What do you mean you
don't know?"

"I mean I don't know how he is because he fucking kicked
me out of his apartment, godammit!"  Jane herself was just
as tense and upset and her chest was rising and falling at a
rapid meter.  

"What happened?"  Scully demanded through tears.

"He put his arm through his television screen, the fucking
bastard.  It's all your fault, too, you know.  He wouldn't
even," Jane stopped and started to cry.  "He would even let
me clean off the wound."

Scully's heart pounded to hear Jane recount the very vision
she'd experienced.  "You mean to tell me you just left him
there in that condition?   Are you crazy?  He could die from
loss of blood, he could have severed an artery, he's
probably in shock!"  She was screaming as loudly as she
could now.

"SHUT-UP!"  Jane shrieked.  "Just shut-up!  I can't think
when you yell like that!  I can't think!"  Scully saw Jane's
eyes were full of tears as she leaned her knee into Scully's
chest and pinned her down on the bed.  

Scully began to choke from the pressure and just when she
thought she couldn't stand anymore pain, Jane brought her
hands around Scully's neck, squeezing and squeezing.  Just
at the moment she thought she might pass out, Jane let go
and flew out of the room.

end part 5