Fletcher I by Dana Starbuck

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Okay - here goes. My first attempt at posting ScullySlash. (not mine. just posting for a friend - check the disclaimers etc). I'm not talented enough and if I were, I'm certainly not bold enough to post.

FLETCHER by "Dana Starbuck" aka "The Bashful One"
Feedback: no public discussion please!
Note: I am posting this for a friend who only has access to the internet thru work. I did not write this, but I have agreed to let my friend use my email account jbowne@top.monad.net. Any comments, please reference 'Fletcher' so I know to print and pass on to her.
Distribution: Archive only to ScullySlash Homepage only
Crossposting: None please!
Keywords: F/F, Scully/Other, Mulder/Other Friendship, SOTL Crossover (sort of)
Spoilers: None
Rating: NC17 for sex, ScSlash Rating - A & B
Summary: Scully becomes involved with a friend of Mulder's from his pre-Xfiles past.
DISCLAIMER: The X-Files characters and situations are the creations and property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and the Fox Broadcasting and have been used without permission. SOTL characters are the property of Thomas Harris and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended and no money shall be made with this piece of fiction. All the others belong to the author.
THANK YOU: Special thanks to Rad, deejay and eeyore for beta-reading.

Friday, September 11th 8:15 AM

Mulder looked up from his desk when Scully walked into his office. He wasn't so much shocked at her appearance but just a little worried. She had small circles under her eyes and looked worn out. He wondered if she was feeling okay. Briefly he thought about her cancer then dismissed the thought, certain that Scully would've said something to him.

"You look like hell, Scully. You must've had a good time last night," he kidded her and at the same time was fishing for information.

"Hardly, and thanks for the compliment."

"What's wrong?" the concern in his voice unmistakable.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

<She looks depressed> Mulder thought. <Is it the work? Is she sick? Did the cancer come back and she just didn't tell me?>

"What are you doing tonight, Scully?"

"Nothing, why?"

"I'm meeting an old friend from ISU for drinks. Why don't you join us? You could use a night out."

"This isn't a fix-up, is it, Mulder?" she sighed.

"No. Trust me on this one, Scully," he said with a small laugh. "It's definitely not a fix-up.".

"I don't know, Mulder. Ask me later."

Friday, 1:30 PM

Scully sighed, looking at all the folders piled on her desk. <It never ends. Either we're out tilting at one of Mulder's windmills or buried under paperwork. It's getting old and I'm getting tired of it.> She picked up another folder. 

She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. She was surprised to find tears in her eyes and she was instantly glad Mulder was out of the room. <Why do I feel so blue?> She looked at the calendar on her desk. <No, it's way to early for PMS. I'm just bored with everything - my work, my life. I hate to admit it, but Mulder's right - I have no life. I get up, I go to work, I go home. That's it. Some life.>

She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. When she heard Mulder come into the room, she quickly made it look like she was cleaning her glasses.

"What time were you planning on going out, Mulder?"

"We're meeting at 6:30. Are you interested?"

"I need a break from this paperwork. It'll be good to get out."

"I'm glad you changed your mind."

Friday, 6:30 PM

She followed the hostess to the back of the pub.

"This is fine. My friend will be here in a few minutes."

"Can I get you anything?"

"Sure. I'll start with a pitcher of whatever you have on tap, not Bud, and not light, and a couple of glasses."

"I'll be right back."

Knowing Mulder's affinity for the facing the door, she sat down with her back to the entrance. <How long has it been since I've seen him? Two months? Three months? I know he hasn't been to the house since spring. I guess the last time I saw him was just before July 4th. It'll good to see him again. Damn our schedules. No, it's not just our schedules. We haven't been very good about keeping in touch this year.>

Scully walked into the pub with Mulder. He looked around the bar before he dragged her to a booth in the back. It wasn't until his friend stood up and turned around that Scully realized that 'he' was a 'she'. Now she understood why Mulder had laughed when she asked if tonight was a 'fix-up'.

<Interesting. Mulder doesn't have many female friends. Maybe he wants to introduce me to his girlfriend. Oh, cripes, I'll be a third wheel. I'll just have a quick drink, to be polite, and then I'll leave.>

Scully quickly gave her a once over, as if she were checking out a suspect. It was an occupational hazard that she wasn't even aware of most of the time.

Mulder's friend was a tall woman, almost as tall as he was. There wasn't an ounce of fat on her, not did she have any hips or chest to speak of. Her waist was narrow, her shoulders broad. She had intense blue eyes - so blue that Scully wondered if she wore tinted contact lenses. There were lines around her eyes and across her forehead, making her look older than she was, but she also had a few laugh lines around her mouth. Her short, thick, dark chestnut hair was streaked with gray and brushed back, except for the few uncontrollable strands of hair that fell casually over her forehead.

<Definitely not Mulder's type. I doubt they're involved at all. Maybe this won't be so bad afterall.>

"Spooky Mulder," she said, standing up and taking his hand, then hugging him.

Scully's eyes widened. She was surprised to hear her call Mulder 'Spooky', but she said it with such friendly affection, it was almost as if she herself had said it.

"Fletcher the Lecher, how are you?" he greeted her with the same affection. "Scully, this is an old friend of mine, Fletcher Buchanan. Fletcher, my partner, Dana Scully."

"Pleased to finally meet you," Fletcher said, sticking out her hand. "Mulder speaks often of you."

When their hands touched, Fletcher looked at her oddly, as if she recognized her. Scully thought it strange, but for a quick moment, it looked as if Fletcher's eyes had changed to a pale, icy blue.

"Have we met before?" Fletcher asked, inwardly kicking herself for blurting out such a trite sounding question. <Shit, what an obvious pick up line. You idiot. There's an absolutely stunning woman in front of you and that's the best you can do?>

"I don't think so...maybe around the Hoover Building," Scully said.

Fletcher suddenly realized she was still holding Scully's hand. She quickly let go and sat down, hoping her embarrassment didn't show. <Goddess, she's gorgeous. Mulder never told me she was so beautiful. He's one lucky guy. How can he work with her? I'd find her to be a constant distraction.>

Scully didn't know where to sit; she didn't think she could sit next to Fletcher nor did she think she could sit opposite her. She found her eyes too unnerving. Mulder bumped into her from behind when Scully hesitated.

"Waiting for something, Scully?"

"What?"

"Are you planning to sit any time soon?"

"Sorry, Mulder."

She sat down, facing Fletcher. Mulder slid in next to her. <At least Mulder can't see my face when he sits next to me> she thought.

"What're you having, Fletcher?" Mulder asked, taking off his tie and stuffing it into his jacket pocket.

"I just ordered a pitcher of the draft on tap."

Scully felt overdressed in her business suit. Mulder had loosened his collar and was now in his shirtsleeves, his coat crammed into the booth beside him. Fletcher was wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt, a navy linen jacket over it. <Oh well, at least I'm not in a skirt.>

Fletcher reached into her pocket for a pair of glasses. She put on a pair of round gold-rimmed wire glasses. <So much for contact lenses> Scully thought. <Her eyes really are that blue. Incredible.>

"Sounds good. I'll have the same. What about you, Scully?"

"I'll pass on the beer."

Fletcher waved down a barmaid. "What'll you have, Scully - or do you prefer Dana?"

"Scotch rocks - and Scully's fine."

Fletcher ordered her drink and instructed the barmaid to put it on her tab.

"Interesting name," Scully commented, sipping her drink. "Do you prefer Fletcher or Buchanan?"

"Either, just don't use my first name."

"Which is?"

Fletcher shot Mulder a warning look. Scully saw it and turned to Mulder. She raised an eyebrow. <Well?>

"Don't ask me. I'm sworn to secrecy. I took an oath when I was threatened with bodily harm."

"At least give me an initial," Scully pleaded, taking a larger drink from her glass.

"Nope." The tone in Fletcher's voice was final.

Scully recognized the tone - a tone with a definite military flavor. <Sounds a little like Ahab did when we were kids and asking permission for something we knew to be outlandish. Pleading didn't work with him either.>

"I know Mulder partnered with LaManna, but did you two work together?" Scully asked, intrigued with this woman from Mulder's past, but unsure if it was because it was Mulder's past, or just her.

"On and off for what - two years or three?"

"Something like that."

"Are you still in ISU?"

"I took some time out of the department to teach at the Academy. I'm returning next week."

"We're out celebrating the fact the ISU came to their senses and brought Fletcher back." Mulder began cracking open the peanuts that sat in the basket on the table. "Will you still be at Quantico?"

"My office will be at the Hoover Building, but I'll still maintain an office in Quantico. I imagine I'll be splitting my time between the two, when I'm not on the road."

Scully ordered another scotch when the barmaid came by to refill the pitcher. Scully wasn't used to drinking, especially on an empty stomach, but she felt compelled to keep up with them. The second drink soon became a third, then a fourth.

She was fascinated with this woman, partly because Mulder hardly ever spoke about anyone from his pre-Xfile days, and when he did, it was rarely favorable. She quickly wondered if Mulder had slept with her, then just as quickly dismissed the thought. There was nothing to indicate even remotely that they were anything other than good friends and colleagues.

Scully nudged Mulder and stood up.

"Excuse me, Mulder. I need to use the bathroom."

Fletcher watched over the top of her glass as Scully unsteadily walked to the restroom.

"So, that's the Ice Princess. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Mulder, she's gorgeous. You mean to tell me you never noticed?"

"It's just Scully."

"You must be blind," she said, draining her glass.

"Fletcher, she's straight."

"Did I say anything?" she protested.

"You don't have to. I saw the way you looked at her."

"I was just looking. I'm not interested."

"What do you mean you're not interested? Since when were you ever not interested in any woman?" he teased.

"Since I cleaned up my act a few years ago. You know that."

"Cleaning up your act doesn't mean you have to be celibate."

"And when was the last time you did the wild thing, Wonder Boy?" she asked sarcastically.

"I'd bet that it hasn't been as long for me as it has been for you."

She ignored his last comment as she filled her glass with the last of the latest pitcher of beer.

"So, does Mrs. Spooky always drink this much?" she asked, using the other nickname she'd heard around the bureau.

"No. I don't think I've ever seen her have more than one drink, two tops. Maybe you make her nervous."

"I don't think I have anything to do with it." She took a long swallow from her glass. "Forgetting the fact that she's beautiful, Mulder, your partner is not a happy woman."

"What do you mean?"

"She just has that look about her."

"She's had a rough coupla years with me."

"So you've told me."

She quickly changed the subject when she saw Scully heading back to the table. She looked a little drunk to Fletcher, but she didn't say anything. To Fletcher, she was a woman in need of a good, long drunk - among other things.

Scully sat back down and sipped from her glass. Fletcher and Mulder had begun to argue good-naturedly about something. She listened to them tease each other. It was similar to the way she and Mulder interacted, but more intense. Their jibes were sharp, but there was also a warmth to their exchanges that she and Mulder never shared.

<This must be close friends - closer then Mulder let on with me> Scully thought, a little enviously. <They haven't worked with each other in years and their rapport is still so very strong.>

Scully was also aware that Fletcher was making sure she wasn't left out of the conversation. Too often, when Mulder starting talking shop or reminiscing with an old colleague, she'd been left out. Scully was grateful, and a little impressed. Fletcher did it so casually that Scully almost wasn't aware that she was doing it.

She looked over at Fletcher who was laughing at something that Mulder had said. She hadn't heard what Mulder had said. The last hour had become a little hazy and she had trouble following the conversation. <I'd better slow down, if it's not too late.> She cupped her cheek in her hand and fought to keep her eyes open. She was so tired and truly feeling the scotch she'd drank. She looked over at Fletcher again. <She's an attractive woman, in a sort of androgynous way> Scully thought. <Now where did that come from? Must be the scotch. Drinking on an empty stomach is not a good idea. What was I thinking? How many have I had anyway? I've got more than just a buzz.>

Fletcher noticed Scully yawning for the umpteenth time. She'd lied to Mulder. She was interested in Scully - actually she was more intrigued then interested. <There's more to this woman than beauty and brains. I'd love to have her sleep in my arms tonight. She looks like she's in need of some TLC and I've love to be the one to offer it.>

"It's getting late," Scully said. "I think I'll head home."

She stood up and a wave of dizziness overcame her.

"Scully, I don't think you're in any condition to drive," Mulder said. "Where's your car?"

"In the bureau lot."

"Fletcher, can you give Scully a ride home? I'm not ready to leave yet."

"I can take a cab," Scully protested.

"Where do you live?" Fletcher asked.

"Annapolis."

"Too far for a cab, especially at night."

"I don't want to put you to any trouble."

"It's late. I need to get home. Really. It's no bother."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. You wait here with Mulder and I'll go get my car." She threw and ten and a twenty on the table. "Let me know if that doesn't cover my share."

She finished her glass of beer. "Give me about 10 minutes," she said, and then she was gone.

"This is really embarrassing, Mulder. I can't remember the last time I got this drunk..."

"Don't be. You're tired, you didn't eat," he offered her excuses. "Besides, it happens to the best of us, Scully."

"Not to me, Mulder," she muttered.

He walked outside with her and they waited until Fletcher pulled up in a Jeep Cherokee. Mulder gave her the address and directions, in case Scully passed out of fell asleep, which she promptly did five minutes into the drive.

Fletcher looked over at the sleeping woman. She'd never met anyone more beautiful. <Careful, Fletcher. You know the rules - no straight women. And certainly not Mulder's partner.>

She let Scully sleep until she found a parking space. She gently shook her shoulder. "Scully? Scully, you're home."

"Oh, okay," she replied groggily.

"Give me your keys. I'll help you up."

"I'm so tired..."

"I know."

She carefully put her arm around Scully's waist and helped her to her apartment. She tried each key in the lock, holding Scully steady with one hand. She silently cursed her friend. <You owe me for this one, Mulder. Big time. It's not fair that I get to take this gorgeous woman home and then not get to lay a hand on her. And I think you know what you did, too, you son-of-a-bitch. Some practical joke. Payback's a bitch. You just wait.>

She finally hit paydirt with one of the keys and unlocked the door. She fumbled in the dark before finding a light switch. When she shut the door behind her, she saw the look on Scully's face.

"Oh, boy, let's get you to the bathroom, Scully."

She rushed Scully to the bathroom. They made it just in time. Fletcher gently lay her hand on Scully's back and pulled her hair off her face with her other hand. When Scully finished throwing up, she sat back on the floor, leaning against the tub. Fletcher found a washcloth and ran it under cold water, then she wiped Scully's face.

Scully sobered up, realizing where she was. She gratefully took the washcloth from Fletcher and put it on the back of her neck.

"Here," Fletcher said, handing her a glass of water. "Just sip it."

"Yes, thanks, you're right." She sipped from the glass. "I'm so embarrassed. I know better than to drink on an empty stomach," she apologized.

"Don't be. We all need to - uh - relax every now and then."

"Some first impression..." she mumbled, unsure why it was so important to impress Fletcher.

"Let's get you to bed so I can get home."

<And take a cold shower because I can hardly stand to be in the same room with you right now, Dana Scully.> She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so affected by anyone. <There hasn't been anyone else - really -since - forget about it, Fletcher, you moron. Just keep those thoughts to yourself. They're nothing but trouble.>

"Why don't you stay here, Fletcher? It's late and you shouldn't have to drive."

"It's not that far."

"How much further?"

"About twenty minutes," she lied. "I'm okay to drive, Scully. Really."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm fine."

"Call me, Fletcher. Let me know you got home."

"I'm not going to wake you up for that."

"Then let me buy you breakfast?"

"I don't think you'll be wanting breakfast tomorrow morning," she said with a small, knowing smile. "Besides, I've, well, I've.." she stumbled over her lie.

"Oh, I'm sorry. How rude of me. You've got plans." Scully was surprised that she felt what - disappointment? <Why should I feel disappointed?>

"I'll take a raincheck, if it'll make you feel better."

"It would."

"Goodnight, Scully."

"Goodnight, Fletcher. Thanks for the ride." She put her hand lightly on Fletcher's forearm. "Thanks for everything else, too."

"No problem. See you around."

Scully shut the door and locked it. In a way, she was relieved to be alone. She was exhausted and hoped that she could sleep. <I'm sure all that scotch will help, though I'm sure I'll pay for it in the morning.>

End Chapter 1

Monday, September 14th, 7:30 AM

Fletcher took the elevator down to the basement. She wanted to check in with Mulder before she went to her own office. <Face it, Fletcher, you're hoping to see Scully again, too.>

She knocked once on the open door. Mulder looked up from his desk and smiled.

"Fletcher, c'mon in."

"Love what you've done with the place, Mulder," she said, looking around the room.

"I like to think of it as home."

"Some things never change, do they?" she commented, sitting down at Scully's desk.

"Whatever do you mean?" he asked, with a knowing smile.

"I seem to recall more than one occasion you setting me up as a taxi service for some straight woman."

"Can't you be trusted?"

"Of course I can," she responded, leaning back and putting her feet up on the desk.

"I would hope so. She's my partner and a good friend."

"It's just that your cruelty knows no bounds."

"I trust Scully made it home safely."

"Have I ever let you down before?"

"Well, a few times I had my doubts, but deep down I knew you'd behave yourself."

"Unfortunately, you're so very right," she sighed. "But I'll let you in on a little secret, Mulder," she said with an evil smile and a twinkle in her eye.

"What?"

"She asked me to stay - and I turned her down."

"What?" His eyes nearly popped out of his head. He wasn't sure which surprised him more - Scully asking Fletcher to stay or Fletcher turning her down. Both would've been out of character for either woman.

"Gotcha," she laughed. "It was all very innocent. She thought I was too drunk or too tired to drive any further."

Scully walked into the room. She was surprised to see Fletcher, but also, oddly enough, a little pleased to see her so soon.

"Good morning," she said, hanging up her coat.

Fletcher immediately sat up, taking her feet down. Usually, Scully didn't approve when a woman had 'mannish' behaviors, like putting her feet up on a desk, but it didn't seem to bother her when Fletcher did it. It looked natural for her to be sitting at a desk with her feet up.

"'morning, Scully."

"What brings you down here?"

"Just slumming it, I guess. " Fletcher got up from behind Scully's desk. "Guess I'd better get going. Scully, good to see you again. Glad to see you're feeling better from the last time I saw you," she said, smiling and adding a wink. Scully blushed. "Mulder, just remember, payback's a bitch, and I will have mine."

"I look forward to it," he laughed. "Hey, Fletcher," he called out as she headed through the door.

"What?"

"Welcome back," he said sincerely.

"Thanks. It's good to be back."

She waved once and was gone.

"Sure hope she's up to it," Mulder said quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing. She's just walking into a really tough one right now."

"Which case?"

"Salt Lake City."

"I'm glad it's her case and not our's."

Thursday, September 17th, 12:35 PM

"Knock, knock. Anybody in?"

Scully looked up to see Fletcher standing in the doorway.

"Oh, hi, Fletcher."

"Where's Spooky?"

"Out doing errands."

"Oh, too bad. I was wondering if he wanted to do lunch. I actually have time today."

"I don't know when he'll be back. Sorry."

"How about you? Have you had lunch yet?"

"No."

"Then join me for lunch. I hate to eat out alone."

"Okay, but I'm buying," Scully said, getting up from her desk.

"Why?"

"I seem to remember someone owed a raincheck from the other night."

"That's for breakfast, not lunch. And don't worry, I will collect on it." <Just not the way I'd like to.>

They walked to a small Greek restaurant. Fletcher spoke briefly to the owner in Greek, and then they both laughed. Scully was impressed.

"You speak Greek?" she asked as they sat down.

"And Russian, Italian, French and a little Chinese - all just conversational. Nothing all that great. I can read a menu and say a few things. I just have a knack for languages, like some people have a knack for math or art."

She handed Scully a menu. While Fletcher studied her own menu, Scully watched her. <What is it about this woman? Why does she interest me so? And just what is it that I'm so interested in?>

"See anything that interests you, Scully?" Fletcher asked.

"Excuse me?" she blushed. <Is she a mind reader too?>

"On the menu?" Fletcher asked, tapping the menu in front of Scully.

"What do you recommend?"

"Everything."

"Then order for the both of us."

"Okay." She waved the owner over to their table and ordered in Greek.

"I just love the diversity of this town," Fletcher sighed after he'd left the table. "I can find a restaurant for every type of food I could ever want."

"I never get much chance to truly eat out in this town. It's always the same place for pizza or Chinese. I just stick with the 2 or 3 old standbys. I've been here for years, and I know I'm missing out."

"That you are. I try to get out once a week for something different. Last week it was Thai food. The week before that was German and the week before that was French."

"You don't look like you'd be in to food so much."

"Why's that?"

"Well, you're so thin," she admitted, a small embarrassed smile on her face. <Why am I so embarrassed to admit that I noticed?>

"I work out everyday. I have to. It keeps my weight down and the stress levels down. Most of the time I eat pretty simply."

"I consider it a successful week when I have dinner at home once a week that isn't out of a box or a can."

"I know how that can be. I usually cook up something on the weekends so I have good leftovers. It's too easy to get caught up in takeout and junk food. It's bad enough, the crap we eat, when we're in the field. Too much coffee, pizza and burgers," she said, shaking her head.

"What is this we're having?" Scully asked. "It's wonderful."

"Don't ask. Just enjoy."

"So, how long have you been with the bureau, Red?" Fletcher asked as they ate.

"I joined in 1990. I taught at the Academy for two years." <Red? Did she call me 'Red'? Does she give everyone nicknames?> Scully didn't like nicknames, was glad that it would take a real stretch to make a nickname out of her first name, but coming from Fletcher...it just seemed right.

"What did you teach?"

"Forensic Pathology."

"You're a doctor?"

"Yes."

Fletcher nodded, letting Scully know she was impressed. <Quite a woman, Scully. Just what other talents are you hiding?> Fletcher thought. She tried not to shake her head to clear her thoughts. <Enough, Fletcher. This woman is professional, a fellow agent. She can't possibly be interested. Besides, she's Mulder's partner - and probably more than just his partner - despite what he has and hasn't told you.>

"What about you?" Scully asked, sipping her coffee.

"What about me?" Fletcher asked, smiling.

"How long have you been with the FBI?"

"I joined in '86. I did a few years in the field, in Boston, then I went into Behavioral Sciences, later ISU. I've been teaching at the Academy for the last 2 years."

"How come I haven't heard of you?"

"I keep a very low profile, pun intended. I work best that way." She looked at her watch. "It's getting late. We'd better get back to work."

"We'll have to do this again, Scully," Fletcher said as they walked into Scully's office. "I had a good time."

"Maybe you'll let me buy you breakfast this weekend."

"Can't. I'm leaving tomorrow for Salt Lake City. Don't know when I'll be back."

"Call me when you return," Scully said, handing Fletcher her card.

Mulder was sitting in the office and overheard the conversation.

"Hey, Spooky, you missed a great lunch."

"Where'd you go?"

"Xristo's."

"Damn. I really am sorry I missed it. "

"We'll do lunch when I get back, I promise."

"We'd better," he said in a voice that was bordering on a whine.

"That's awfully close to a whine, Spooky. You know how I hate it when you whine."

"Whine? Me? Never."

"Right," she said sarcastically. "I'll give you a call when I get back. Later, folks."

Saturday, September 26th, 10:00 AM

Scully set her laundry basket down and picked up the ringing cell phone. She expected it to be Mulder, telling her they had another case. <At this point, I'd even welcome a case. I'm so bored.>

"Scully."

"Hello, Red."

"Oh, hi, Fletcher."

"I know it's kind of last minute, but do you have any plans for today?"

"No, not really." Scully was a little ashamed to admit she didn't have much of a social life.

"I've got such a hankering for blue crab. Want to join me? I know of this great little place in Maryland."

"Sure. I haven't been to a place like that since - oh, probably college."

"Great. I'll pick you up about 11:30."

Scully surprised herself at how long it took her to decide what to wear. <It's just Fletcher. It's not like it's a date or anything. Get a grip, Dana.> She finally settled on a pair of black jeans, a plain white t-shirt and an over-sized gray University of Maryland sweatshirt.

Fletcher arrived promptly at 11:30. She was wearing an Orioles baseball cap, a pair of faded, baggy jeans with a heavy black belt, Doc Martens, and a black polo shirt. <Must be nice to be able to wear baggy jeans> Scully thought enviously. <If I wore those, it'd look like I was trying to hide my big butt and hips. On Fletcher, they only emphasize her lack of hips and ass.>

"What a beautiful day," Scully said as they walked out.

They stopped in front of a silver, convertible, two-seater BMW sports car.

"This is yours?"

"I like my toys," she said simply as she walked around to the driver's side.

"Is Mulder joining us?" Scully asked.

"No, for two reasons."

"Why not?" Scully asked, not sure if she really wanted to know the reason.

"He always steals blue crab off my plate. I've got such a craving for them that I don't want to share even one with him."

"And the second reason?"

"You look like you need a girls' night out." She saw the skeptical look on Scully's face. "I know, I know. It's daytime. I was just thinking along the lines of a Thelma and Louise thing."

"I don't know about that..."

"I'm just kidding, Red. I just think you need a little breathing room from him. I know how intense he can be. Sometimes when we were partners, we'd spend so much time together I felt like I was suffocating. Don't get me wrong, I love Mulder. He's my best friend. I'd do anything for him -except share my blue crabs - but sometimes, you just need a break."

Scully nodded in agreement. She put on her sunglasses and put her purse under the front seat.

"Are you a fellow Terp?" Fletcher asked as they drove off, nodding at Scully's sweatshirt.

"Undergrad, Class of '85. You?"

"Bachelor's 81, Doctorate '86."

"You have your PhD?"

"Yes."

"In what?"

"Psychology. My Master's was in Criminology."

"What about your Bachelor's?"

"Dual Major, Criminology and Psychology."

"How old were you when you graduated from high school? Ten?"

"I'm older than you, Red, and I graduated from college when I was 20."

"Well, maybe we met at Maryland."

"I don't think so. You were pre-med, right? We wouldn't have even been in the same departments." <Besides, I'd remember you, Red. One look at you would - will - stay with me forever.> "I wasn't on campus that much while I was working on my doctorate, anyway. I had a job that took a lot of my time."

"Where were you working?"

"I was in the Navy. I was Navy ROTC while at Maryland. While I fulfilled my obligation to Uncle Sam, I got my Master's and PhD."

"You were in the Navy?"

"Still am - only in the reserves."

"Where do you work?"

"ONI. I can't wait to retire."

"What's your rank?"

"I just got my fourth stripe last spring. I know I'll never go any higher, and I don't really care. I just know my hitch is up in 18 months and I can't wait."

"Why the Navy? "

"I guess I was looking for a little structure in my life then. God knows, I needed the discipline. It's worked out okay for the most part."

"Where were you stationed?"

"I did two years in San Diego - that's where I got my Master's. I finished up active duty here in D.C.."

Fletcher suddenly accelerated sharply as they hit the highway. Scully held her hair to keep it from whipping into her face.

"There's a extra hat in the glove box, if you want," she said, laughing.

"I get such terrible hat head."

"Would you rather have your hair all tangled?"

She opened the glove box and found the hat. A holstered 9 mm semi-automatic sat on top of it. She looked at Fletcher over the top of her glasses.

"Hey, I like to be prepared," Fletcher said, shrugging her shoulders.

Scully put on an old Washington Senators baseball cap and shook her head once in exasperation.

"How about some tunes, Red?"

"Radio or CD?"

"Radio's fine. Just find something we can sing with it."

"Trust me, Fletcher. You don't want me to sing."

"Why not?"

"I can't carry a tune to save my life."

"Sure you can. Everybody can sing to oldies."

"If I sing, do you promise not to ditch me?"

"I swear."

'Run-around-Sue' had just begun. Fletcher tossed her head back and heartily sang along. Scully sang when she knew the words, but she knew she was off-key. It was especially embarrassing because Fletcher had a great voice, low and husky.

"Scully, you're right," Fletcher said when the song ended.

"What?"

"Don't give up your day job," she laughed.

"I told you I couldn't sing."

"Well, what you lack in talent, you make up for with enthusiasm."

Fletcher sang along with song after song. Scully just closed her mouth and enjoyed the show.

"I love the oldies, even the sappy songs. They've got such great harmonies."

"Fletcher?" Scully interrupted, her voice a little bit serious.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for taking me along today. I didn't know it when you called, but I really needed this."

"A little advice, Scully - you work too hard."

"So do you. I've heard Mulder's stories."

"Maybe I work hard, but I also play hard. If I didn't learn to take time out for myself, get away from my cases from time to time, well, it just wouldn't be very healthy. You - and Mulder - both need to learn it. He tries, and sometimes he even succeeds, but I don't think you even know how to have a good time anymore."

"And how much do I owe you for the session, Dr. Buchanan?" she said, a little edge to her voice.

"My initial consult is free," she said, laughing. "Sorry. I just hate to see my friends get so absorbed in their work that they don't take care of themselves."

"Apology accepted, I think."

"Good. I really am sorry if I've offended you."

"You haven't."

"Lunch is on me."

"Fletcher, I still owe you a breakfast," she protested.

"Buy me lunch next week. I'll be in D.C. Monday and Tuesday. How about Tuesday?"

"If we don't get called out of town, sure."

"Good."

Fletcher pulled into a small restaurant that didn't look like much from the outside. She locked the glove box.

"Do you want to lock your purse in the trunk?"

"Yes, thanks."

Fletcher picked up Scully's purse and carried it to the back of the car. <Boy, does that look out of place> Scully thought, a smile on her face. 

Fletcher felt the familiar weight in Scully's purse and grinned. "Why are you busting my chops about carrying a piece, Red? You've got your's in here, don't you?"

"Yes. I like to be prepared, too," she said, mimicking Fletcher.

Two hours later, they left the restaurant. Scully couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so much. Fletcher had kept telling her stories about college and the Navy that made her laugh. She also started remembering her college days, and she shared some of her experiences, tame as they were.

"What time is it?" Scully asked as they drove away.

"After 3:00. Do you have to be anywhere?"

"No. Why?"

"Well, Thelma, are you up for some bar-hopping?"

"I don't know about that, 'Louise'."

"I want to check out the college football scores and I'm in the mood to shoot some pool."

"I don't know, Fletcher. It's still so nice out. Can we just drive around?"

"Sure. Anyplace in particular?"

"No. Just drive."

Fletcher got back onto the highway so she could drive fast.

"Do you always drive so fast?" Scully asked.

"No. It's just that this car is finely tuned instrument that screams for speed. I'm only using it to its potential."

"I see. And you don't really like to go fast?"

"No, not at all," she said grinning, pushing the pedal down a little further.

"You'd better be careful. You don't want to get pulled over with a gun in your glovebox."

"I'll just flash my badge and ask for a little professional courtesy."

"You'd probably get it if you looked like you were on the job."

"Are you criticizing my choice of wardrobe?"

"No, no, not at all. You just look decidedly off-duty."

A few hours later, Fletcher deposited Scully in front of her apartment.

"Do you want to come in for some coffee?"

"I really do have to get going. I've got a lot of work piled up at home that I need to get to."

"And just who works too hard?"

Fletcher stuck her tongue out at Scully, then laughed.

"Thanks again for such a great day, Fletcher. I feel so much better."

<Oh, Red, I could make you feel even better. Really. Just let me into your life. You really do need to let someone in, even Mulder, if it can't be me. You just keep so much locked up inside.>

"Just what the doctor ordered."

"Thanks again."

"Anytime, Red. I'll see you at lunch."

<I'm going to need a cold shower tonight> she thought as she drove home. 

End Chapter 2 - Fletcher

Monday, September 28th, 8:00 PM

Scully was sitting in her apartment, reading through the files she'd brought home, when her cell phone rang. She was grateful for the interruption.

"Scully."

"Hey, Scully, it's Fletcher."

"Hi, Fletcher." She found herself smiling at the sound of Fletcher's voice.

"I'm in Salt Lake City. I got a call right after I got home Saturday night. I don't know when I'll be back. If it's okay with you, I'll have to take another raincheck on lunch tomorrow. "

"Sure." Scully paused then asked, "Are you okay, Fletcher?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"You just sound different." <You sound exhausted and stressed> she thought.

"I'm just a little tired and feeling a little rushed right now. I haven't slept much in the past two days. Thanks for asking."

"How's the case going?"

"I can't really say anything other than keep your ears open at the bureau."

"I will."

"I'll call you the next time I'm back in town."

Two days later

"Wonder Woman struck again," Mulder said, handing Scully a cup of coffee.

"Thanks," she said grateful for the cup. "What do you mean - 'Wonder Woman'?"

"Did you see the news this morning?"

"No. I was running a little late. What happened?"

"Fletcher nailed another serial killer. She's amazing," Mulder commented, shaking his head. "The bureau was called in to Salt Lake 2 months ago. She walks in 2 weeks ago, reworks the profile and gets him. Her ability to profile could qualify as an x-file."

"Was she always that good?"

"She's the best. I was glad I had the chance to work with her as much as I did."

"Why'd they ever let her out of the department?"

"It was that or lose her entirely. She - never mind, Scully. I don't like to repeat bureau gossip."

Scully was sorry Mulder had closed his mouth. She was eager for any information she could get on Fletcher, but she didn't know why.

Friday October 2nd, 6:30 PM

Scully reached into her coat to answer her cell phone as she closed the door behind her.

"Scully."

"It's Fletcher. Have you eaten yet?"

"No."

"Want to meet me for dinner? I'm in a celebrating mood."

"As well you should be. Congratulations."

"Thanks. How about it?"

"I think I'll pass. I really don't feel like going back out tonight."

"Oh." Fletcher tried to hide the disappointment in her voice. "I could pick up some Chinese?" she asked, hopefully.

It suddenly struck Scully. <She's lonely. She just broke a big case and she doesn't have anyone to share it with. How sad.> She also felt a little flattered that Fletcher had called her and not Mulder.

"Sure. That'd be great."

A little over an hour later, Fletcher showed up with two large bags.

"I wasn't sure what you liked, so I got an assortment."

"There's a lot of food here."

"It's not true take-out Chinese without leftovers - unless -"

"- you're sharing with Mulder," Scully finished for her, laughing.

Fletcher was taken with Scully's smile. <She doesn't smile enough> she thought. <It's too bad. She's got a wonderful smile and those lips...The place where kisses go to die...> She almost sighed out loud.

"What do you want to drink?" Scully asked.

"I bought some Chinese beer, too."

"Bring it all into the kitchen and we can fix a plate up in there."

"Okay."

A few minutes later, their plates heaped with a variety of food, they returned to the livingroom. Fletcher sat down in the chair opposite the sofa, where Scully sat. She didn't dare sit on the sofa next to her, didn't think she could be physically close to her, knew it would be too uncomfortable.

"Where'd you get the food? It's delicious."

"A little restaurant in Georgetown called Jimmy Chen's."

"I'll have to remember it."

"Tell him I sent you. Just ask for Fletcher's special. You'll get a better selection."

"Just how many restaurants do you have that kind of connection in?" Scully asked, a smile again gracing her face.

<She'd better stop smiling. Everytime she does, I want to melt> Fletcher thought. <She could smile and ask me to jump off the Capitol and I'd do it. Hell, I'd do anything she asked if she smiled.>

"Oh, I don't know, maybe 20. I tell you, it's the little ones that nobody's heard of that have the best food."

"I'll take your word for it. I haven't been disappointed yet."

"Next time, I'll take you to Little Sicily. That is, if you like Sicilian food."

"Sure."

<Hot damn! She agreed to a next time without even giving it a second thought.>

"Tell me more about yourself, Red. Are you from around D.C.?"

"I grew up all over. My father was career Navy."

"Retired?"

"He passed away a few years ago - heart attack."

Fletcher could see the pain that was still in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, " she said quietly. "You were close to him, weren't you?"

"Very."

"I was close to my dad, too. When he died, I was nearly overcome with grief."

"When did he die?"

"Almost 10 years ago, and I still miss him."

"And your mother?"

"She died when I was six. It was just me and dad, until I went away to school."

"Any other family?"

"Just some aunts and uncles and cousins. Nobody that I'm close to. How about you?"

"My mother, and I also have two brothers, Bill and Charlie. They're both in the Navy."

"Are you and your mom close?"

"I like to think so."

"You're lucky. I never really knew my mother. I just have a few faded memories."

Scully put her hand on Fletcher's arm in a consoling manner. "I'm sorry."

"'s okay." She stood up. "How about another beer?"

"Sure."

She took her plate into the kitchen and rinsed it off. <This is not a good idea, Fletcher. This is sheer lunacy. You should leave. Scully's straight. She's not interested. You're playing with fire and you're going to get burned.>

She returned to the livingroom with 2 bottles of beer. She handed Scully a bottle then sat down in the chair again.

"Fletcher, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." <Oh boy, here it comes. I won't have to leave on my own. She'll ask me to.> She took a long swallow from her bottle. <Breathe, Fletcher. If she asks, tell her the truth and try to leave with some pride still intact.>

"I know why Mulder's called 'Spooky', but why does he call you 'Fletcher the Lecher'?"

Fletcher smiled and blushed at the same time. "I suppose it's better coming from me than him."

"That's why I'm asking you. I've been trained to go to the source," she added with a smile.

"Well, I was involved with another agent for a few years. Mulder caught us in - uh - in a - uh - compromising position on more than one occasion." She took a large swallow from her bottle. "Later, when it was over between us, I - um - I dated quite a bit. Mulder seemed to live vicariously through all of my dates."

"Why did you?"

"I thought it would help the hurt, and it didn't. It just made it worse. And it affected me professionally." She took another long swallow of beer. "I almost got in trouble when I was on a case with Mulder. I used piss-poor judgement and I got involved with a victim's relative who also happened to be a possible suspect. Mulder straightened me out on that one and I swore, never again."

"I see," Scully said, trying to understand. <She must've been hurt badly. It seems so out of character for her.>

<Jeez, I sound like a slut.> "I don't do that anymore. I don't see anyone, even casually, anymore."

"Aren't you ever lonely?"

"Not really. Not anymore. I have my work. I have a few close friends." She set her bottle down. "So, how do you like working with Spooky?"

"Let me ask you something. Was he infuriating to work with back then?"

"Always, but one of the best."

"He says the same about you."

"We worked well together, but not like you two. You've got a good partnership." She took a long swallow of beer. "Are you two - uh - more than partners?"

"No." Scully was surprised that Fletcher had asked her. <She and Mulder are best friends. Surely Mulder shared that with her.> "He's my best friend. We've been through a lot together and I love him - but like a brother. Nothing more."

"I know the feeling. I can go months without talking to him, yet when we do talk, it's like we saw each other yesterday."

There was any uneasy silence between them. Fletcher found it hard to be near Scully, so close, yet so very far away. <I'm in trouble, she thought. Big, big trouble. Trouble with a capital 'T'.>

"Are you dating anyone?" she asked Scully.

<What an odd question to ask> Scully thought. <Why is she asking me that now? Why didn't she ask me when we were driving around last Saturday?>

"Not anyone seriously since - it was right when I joined the bureau. He was one of my instructors. We should've stayed just friends," she added.

"I know how that is. I learned the hard way. Lovers come and go, but a good friend is hard to come by and a good partner, even harder." She finished her beer. "Nobody since, huh? I find that hard to believe."

"It's too hard right now. You know the schedule we have. People on the outside just don't understand that we have to go at a moment's notice. It's hard making plans, knowing you might have to cancel at the last minute."

"And the type of work we do. Can you imagine sharing your day with a loved one?"

Scully thought about some of the cases she and Mulder had been on and shuddered. "No."

"Think of the stuff I see. Mankind at its' worse. I could never share that."

"I understand now why there are so many failed, failing or unhappy marriages with agents."

"It's a great killer of relationships, unless you're dating someone in the profession." She glanced at her watch. "It's late. I better get home. I've got a drive from here," she said, getting up.

"I thought I wasn't far from your place."

"Oh, I have a small apartment in town that I use for emergencies or when I don't want to make the drive. My real home is in Virginia. I spend at least my weekends there, and most of the week there. It's the same drive to the bureau as it is to Quantico."

"Oh, I guess you do have a drive."

"I'll be at the bureau on Wednesday morning. Call me if you'll be around for lunch. I did promise Mulder."

"We don't have anything scheduled except reports to catch up, but you know how it is."

"Call me Tuesday."

Wednesday, October 7th, 12:30 pm

"Fletcher knows the best restaurants in town," Mulder said, rubbing his hands together as the food was set on their table.

"Mulder, you don't know the difference between a good restaurant and a bad restaurant. Your sole criteria for rating a restaurant is the size of the portions, " Fletcher teased.

"A four-star restaurant for him is one with a sign stating 'All You Can Eat'," Scully added.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," Mulder grumbled. "It's bad enough when I have lunch with only one of you, now I've got to listen to you in stereo."

"You know one of my true purposes in life is to give you shit, Wonder Boy," Fletcher laughed.

"I'm beginning to think that's the truth."

"You always said the truth was out there, Mulder," Scully smirked.

"Can't I eat in peace?" he complained.

"I'll make it up to you, Mulder," Fletcher said between bites.

"How?" he asked uneasily.

"What are you doing Sunday?"

"Watching the Redskins, why?"

"What time are they playing, 4:00?" He nodded. "Why don't you come over, say, around 1:00 and I'll fix you a Sunday dinner and we can watch both games."

"Free food and football, how could I say no?"

"Well, your birthday is coming up. Why don't you stay over Sunday night, watch the World Series with me and we'll celebrate your birthday on Monday. You know, Federal Holiday and all."

"Sounds like a perfect weekend."

"You're welcome to join us, Scully," Fletcher offered.

"I'll think about it. I'm not really much of a football fan."

"Go for the food alone, Scully. When we worked together, I used to get a home cooked meal once a week."

"Are you saying I'm a bad partner, Mulder?" Scully said, her tone half-serious.

"No, no, that's not what I meant," he backpedaled. "It's just that Fletcher's a great cook."

"You should've married me when you had the chance, Mulder," Fletcher laughed, a private joke between them.

"You know I'm not the marrying kind," he fired right back.

"Maybe so, but you'd sell your soul for three squares a day."

Scully burst out laughing, Fletcher joining her.

"Interesting offer. Throw in the desserts and I'd have to think seriously about that one."

Mulder was a little surprised to see his too-often serious partner actually laughing. He tried to recall the last time he saw her truly laugh, and he couldn't. He looked quickly at Fletcher then at Scully. He filed it away in his brain and returned to his food.

End Chapter 3 - Fletcher

Friday, October 9th, 8:30 pm

 Scully thought as she finished washing the few dishes that had piled up in the sink during the week. <Maybe she's got an idea for something to do. Anything's better than staying home and reading another technical journal or cleaning my apartment - again.> Besides, Fletcher was fun to be around. It was just nice to have someone to talk to other than Mulder, someone she didn't have to justify or explain her work.

She searched through her briefcase for five minutes before finding Fletcher's business card. She dialed the number and waited. She was just about to hang up after the sixth ring when it was answered.

"Buchanan."

The professional sound of Fletcher's voice made Scully instinctively stand up a little straighter. 

"With that tone of voice, I feel like I should come to attention," she laughed.

"Who is this?" Fletcher asked sharply.

"Fletcher, it's Dana Scully."

"Oh, hey, Red, how are you?" <Why is she calling me?>

"Good."

"What can I do for you?"

"Are you doing anything tomorrow?"

"I've got an errand or two to run. Why?"

"Oh, I don't know..."

Fletcher picked up on the tone in Scully's voice. <She sounds bored. No, that's not it. Not bored. Restless. Not unhappy, just out of sorts. Oh, what a brilliant analysis, 'Doctor' Buchanan. Such keen insight. Did you forget all your training and education? Or can't you think straight around this woman?>

"You looking for something to do?" she offered.

"Sort of," she admitted.

"I'll tell you what. I'll pick you up about 10:00. Dress warm."

"Why?"

"Trust me."

"I don't like the sound of that," she kidded Fletcher.

"What? You don't trust me, Red?"

"Should I?"

"Absolutely."

"It's been my past experience that any time someone says 'trust me', they can't be trusted."

"Oh, I'm a regular Girl Scout," she said sarcastically.

"Well, I guess I'll have to trust you until you give me reason not to."

<That almost sounds flirtatious, or did I imagine that? Am I reading more than I should into everything she says? Oh, grow up, Fletcher. She doesn't mean a thing by it. It's just your imagination and your hormones running wild.>

"Guess so. See you then."

Saturday, 9:55 am

Scully found herself feeling a little nervous about being with Fletcher, and she didn't know why. <I like being around her, but she makes me feel a little uneasy sometimes, a little off-balance. I don't know why. It's not that I'm uncomfortable around her, it's - I don't know. I guess it's those eyes of her's. I feel like they look right into me and know what I'm feeling.>

She was so lost in her thoughts and when she heard the knock on the door, she almost jumped. She looked through the peephole and saw Fletcher standing there.

"C'mon in, Fletcher," she said, opening the door.

"Let me see if you're dressed warmly enough, Red."

"It's not going to be cold today. The weather forecast said it's going up to 65 today."

Fletcher walked around Scully, appraising her outfit. Scully's cheeks reddened, her body growing warm under Fletcher's scrutiny. 

Fletcher seemed to notice her discomfort and Scully couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw a tiny smile on Fletcher's face. It was then that she observed that Fletcher was carrying two motorcycle helmets. She was wearing a leather jacket over a sweater, blue jeans and military style black boots.

"Do you have a leather coat?" she asked Scully.

"Not for riding on a motorcycle."

"Well, put on a sweater and a jacket and I guess you'll be warm enough."

Moments later they walked down to her motorcycle, a large Harley Davidson.

"Just another one of my toys," Fletcher explained, handing Scully a helmet.

"And just how many 'toys' do you have?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" she said with a smirk.

<What does she mean by that? Oh, god, 'toys', how stupid of me.> Scully blushed, realizing what Fletcher had implied.

"No, I don't think so," she replied, a little flustered by Fletcher's response.

Fletcher reached into one of her pockets and pulled out a rubberband. "You might want to pull your hair back first."

"Thanks."

Fletcher held the helmet while Scully pulled her hair back. <Oh, goddess, what a beautiful, kissable neck...What I wouldn't give for just a little nibble...I'd start with the neck and then...enough, Fletcher.>

"You can hang onto the bar or you can hang onto me. I don't care which. Just hang on," she instructed Scully.

She handed the helmet back to Scully once more. She got onto the motorcycle and jumped up to kickstart it. When she had the cycle balanced, she motioned to Scully to get on back. Scully rested her hands atop Fletcher's shoulders at first. The intimacy of the gesture flustered her and she quickly moved her hands to the bar.

Fletcher had watched Scully's face in the mirror and she smiled to herself. <She looks like she's got a few questions about herself> she thought. <Nah, just wishful thinking on my part.>

She drove them through the streets of Annapolis and into D.C.. She slowed down, then parked in front of an adult video store. Scully raised her eyebrows. At best, it could be called a 'dive'.

"I've got to pick up one of Mulder's presents," Fletcher explained. "Do you want to wait here or go in with me?"

"I'll wait here," she said, looking at the store with a critical eye. <On a sleaze factor of one to ten, I'd give it an eight - no, a nine. Definitely a nine. I bet my shoes would stick to the floor in there. Yuck.>

"Can I see?" she asked when Fletcher returned.

"Consider yourself warned," Fletcher replied as she handed her the bag.

"'Biker Girls From Venus' and 'Santa's Rain Dears'?" she asked, her cheeks a faint pink as she rolled her eyes.

"You do know about Mulder's collection, don't you?"

"Oh, yes. I'm more than aware of it."

"Well, you don't think he bought them all himself, do you?" Fletcher grinned.

"Why do I feel as though I'm helping you contribute to the delinquency of a minor?" she laughed.

"It's a tradition with us. I've given him at least one tape for his birthday every year I've known him. If I stopped, he'd be hurt."

Fletcher folded the bag shut and tucked it inside of her coat.

"Do you feel like going for a short ride? I thought we could take a peek at the leaves and then we can go to my house for lunch."

"Sure."

Fletcher expertly weaved in and out of traffic until they were off the highway and out of the city. It was exhilarating. Scully tried to remember the last time she'd even been on the motorcycle. Her brother Bill had owned a motorcycle when he was in college. <The only unconservative thing he ever did> she thought. She'd been on a few rides with him. He was the only person she knew that even owned one.

A few hours later, Fletcher pulled over so they could enjoy the view and stretch their legs. Riding the cycle hadn't given them much of an opportunity for talking, but Scully hadn't minded. She was just happy not to be at her desk or back in her apartment alone.

"Are you hungry yet?" Fletcher asked.

"A little."

"My house isn't too far from here."

"I have to tell you, Fletcher, this has been a lot of fun. Thanks for asking me. It's relaxing in an odd way."

"I don't get out enough on my bike. I used to get on it almost every Saturday and just drive for hours. Lately, I just haven't had the time and now the weather will be turning soon."

 Scully thought. <She's so relaxed with everything she does. Why can't I find the ways to make my life more like her's? How does she do it? She seems to do whatever she wants.>

"Fletcher?"

"Yes?"

"Oh, nothing. Forget it."

"Okay, I will. Let's go get some lunch."

When they got back on the cycle, Scully put her hands lightly on Fletcher's hips instead of the bar. Fletcher used all of her willpower not to flinch. <Oh, geez, it's a good thing she can't see my face. Guess I better enjoy it while I can. I doubt she even knows what she's doing to me right now.>

Saturday, 12:45 PM

Fletcher steered the cycle onto a long driveway. She entered a security code in order to open the gate. Scully noticed the security camera atop the brick wall. She also noticed that Fletcher waited for the gate to close before continuing down the driveway. She paused in front of a large brick colonial house. She pressed a button in her coat pocket to open up the large three-car garage. Her familiar Jeep Cherokee was parked next to the sports car.

<Quite a house, at least from the outside. How does she afford something like this?> Scully thought as they parked in the garage.

Fletcher shut the garage door and set the alarms. She unlocked the back door and turned on the lights.

"Welcome to Buchanan Manor," she laughed.

"This is all your's?"

"Yup. Nothing like being the only child of two very wealthy parents. C'mon, I'll give you the grand tour. Just excuse the mess. I wasn't planning on any company today."

They walked into a large kitchen. With all the pots, pans, knives and other cooking utensils hanging, Scully thought she'd walked into the kitchen of a professional chef. <Mulder wasn't kidding. She must be some cook.>

Following Fletcher's lead, Scully set her helmet down on the large kitchen table next to Fletcher's. Fletcher took off her coat and draped it over one of the chairs. Scully noticed that Fletcher wore a shoulder holster for her gun. 

In a surprisingly smooth, graceful move, Fletcher took off her holster.

"You can leave your coat on a chair. I'll hang them up later. Excuse me. I've got to lock up my piece."

Scully took off her jacket and placed it on another chair. Fletcher was gone for only a few minutes before she returned.

"Do you always carry?" Scully asked.

"Always. Well, almost always. When I'm home, I take it off."

She led Scully into a large diningroom, complete with a chandelier. The table easily sat twenty, with room for at least twenty more.

"Entertain much?"

"My parents, then later my dad did. We used to host family dinners here about four times a year. I think the most I've ever had for dinner myself is maybe ten, and that was years ago."

The livingroom was huge and conservatively decorated. Several large paintings hung on the wall. <Probably originals.> The room didn't look like it got much use, except the corner where a piano sat. 

"This room - I could fit my whole apartment in it," Scully remarked.

"I guess it's the place where all the dinner guests go when dinner's over," Fletcher said wryly.

Scully followed her into another room that served as a den, but really was bigger than Scully's livingroom and kitchen combined. There were several comfortable chairs, a large sofa and matching loveseat, and a large wide screened TV. A small bar sat up against one wall. There was a sliding glass door that opened to a patio and the backyard.

"I suppose the house is too big for one person, but I just can't part with it," Fletcher apologized. "I'm the fourth or fifth generation to own it. Some of my happiest memories of my dad reside here."

Scully inspected the photographs on the wall.

"The first one is my mother and father, when they were in college. That one's my graduation from Maryland. That's my dad and me when I got my doctorate."

Fletcher was standing in cap and gown next to a tall man. There was no mistaking that it was a father-daughter photo. Fletcher looked exactly like him, only her features were a little softer. <She definitely got her height and blue eyes from him. They even share that same croaked grin.>

They left the den and Fletcher led Scully back to the livingroom. She turned on the lights leading up a staircase with a large ornately carved banister.

"If you want to have a peek, there's nothing but a bunch of bedrooms and my office upstairs."

"Show me."

"Okay."

There were five large bedrooms, 3 full bathrooms, a master bedroom and bath, and a bedroom converted into an office. Each room was decorated simply - a bed (or twin beds), a dresser and a desk and chair.

The last bedroom Scully looked in had a more lived-in look about it. There was a TV and a VCR on one dresser, along with a Nintendo game set. A small bookcase was overflowing with books and magazines.

"Whose bedroom is this?" she asked.

"Mulder's."

"Mulder's?" Scully asked, puzzled.

"Yeah. He has his own room here. He has since the first case we worked together. He keeps about a week's worth of clothes here, something to sleep in. When we worked together, we'd sometimes work around the clock. Other times, we'd just be up late watching a game, drinking and he didn't want to drive home. He still comes out here from time to time, just to get away. He has an open invitation to stay here any time he wants, even when I'm not here."

They walked down the hall to Fletcher's office. Photographs, maps and charts were tacked up all over the walls. She had filled her office with books and computers. Scully was no computer expert, but she had learned enough from the Lone Gunmen to know that Fletcher's computer equipment was the latest and best technology, easily worth thousands of dollars.

Scully picked up the framed photograph that sat on the desk. It was the only photograph in the room that didn't look as if it had come from a crime scene.

It was several years old. Fletcher was sitting beside Mulder, her arm casually thrown across Mulder's shoulders and his arm was across her shoulders. A pretty dark-haired woman who looked familiar to Scully was sitting between Fletcher's long legs, her hand on Mulder's knee, his hand atop her's. Fletcher's arm was draped over her shoulder and the woman was holding her hand. They were all laughing and looked impossibly young. They seem to enjoying a relaxed familiarity that Scully envied. It definitely showed a side of Mulder that she didn't know about.

"That was taken the first year we were all working together in BSU," Fletcher said in a small voice from the doorway. "Hard to believe we were ever that young."

"Who's the woman? She looks familiar to me."

"Clarice Starling - remember Buffalo Bill?"

"You worked together?"

"For a few years."

Scully couldn't read the look on Fletcher's face. It looked as if she were simultaneously recalling both fond memories and painful memories. <Their relationship was more than just a working relationship.> She set the picture down, surprised that she felt a little jealous. <Of what? That Fletcher has a close relationship with Mulder? They're obviously just friends. Am I jealous of Starling? Why should I be jealous of another woman?>

"That's my room," Fletcher said, gesturing with her head as they walked down the hall. "Excuse the mess."

Scully peeked into the room. A large four poster bed dominated the room. A robe hung from one post. A pair of jeans and a sweater lay across one chair, and a TV sat on one of the dressers. An opened book lay face down on the nightstand beside an empty highball glass. Scully was curious. She wanted to know what book she was reading, but she really didn't want to invade her privacy.

"What's in there?" Scully asked, looking at a closed door at the end of the hall.

"Just the place where I workout. I put in a weight room over the garage."

"I noticed a piano in the livingroom," Scully said as they went downstairs. "Do you play?" <What a stupid question. Of course she plays. Who else is going to?>

"A little."

"Well, if you play a little like you cook a little or speak foreign languages a little, I'm sure you're pretty good."

"Maybe," Fletcher said with a shrug of her shoulders. "I only play for my own enjoyment. I don't really know if I'm any good."

She led Scully back to the kitchen.

"How hungry are you? I thought I'd make us a couple salads and we could eat them out on the patio. It's such a nice day."

"Sure."

"Why don't you go wait out on the patio and I'll bring them out," Fletcher suggested. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"What are you having?"

"I thought I'd open a bottle of wine."

"Wine would be nice."

Fletcher opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses of wine. Scully carried her glass out to the patio. The backyard was large and was bordered by large trees that seemed to be the edge of woods. All of the trees had their leaves in various stages of turning and the colors were spectacular.

Fletcher stepped out a short time later carrying two large antipasto salads and the bottle of wine. She had such a warm, friendly smile on her face that Scully couldn't help but return it.

"You're in a good mood," Scully commented.

"I love days like today," she explained as she sat down. "To a truly great autumn day," she said, raising her glass.

"I'll drink to that."

"It's so good to be outside," Scully said. "I can't remember the last time I was on a picnic - if this could be considered a picnic. Lunch is usually takeout eaten at our desks or in the car. A picnic for us is parking the car and eating with the windows rolled down."

"There's nothing like some fresh fall air to rejuvenate yourself."

"You're absolutely right."

They chatted as they ate, enjoying the view and the food. Scully found herself talking about her family, especially her father. She was surprised at how easy it was to talk to Fletcher. She listened carefully, asking thoughtful, pointed, questions. And she had the kindest eyes when she smiled.

"Were you born here in Virginia?" Scully asked as she finished her salad.

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"You don't have much of an accent."

"Southern manners and a northern education," she laughed.

"I thought you went to Maryland? I don't consider that very northern."

"I went to a prep school in Connecticut."

"Isn't that a little unusual for a Southerner?"

"Well, I come from a mixed marriage."

"Excuse me?" she asked, a little stunned.

"Daddy was a good, proper Southern son. He graduated from a military prep school, then UVA. The first non-conformist thing he ever did was to go North for law school. The only thing that made it even remotely acceptable was that he went to Harvard."

"Where does the mixed marriage come in?" She was curious.

"When he was at Harvard, he met Elizabeth Lowell Fletcher - a pretty coed at Wellesley, whom he later married. Needless to say, the FFV - First Families of Virginia," she explained, "were not too thrilled about a North-South match. Hence, the mixed marriage label."

"How did you ever get to school in Connecticut?"

"My mother made my father promise to send me there when I was old enough. She told him that no daughter of her's was going to be educated to think she had no brain. She was a bit biased with her opinions of southern schools."

"Sounds like she was quite a woman." <As is her daughter.>

"She was. I wish I had known her."

Fletcher was silent.

"What are you thinking about?" Scully quietly asked.

"Oh, my dad mostly. I just wonder what he'd think of me now."

"I'm sure he was very proud of you."

"Oh, I don't know about that."

"You're educated, you have a good career."

"And no husband and no children. Somehow, I think he'd be disappointed with that."

<No husband and children, or that you're alone?> Scully thought.

Fletcher closed her mouth and poured them both what was their third glass of wine. She'd never been comfortable talking about her family and today was no different. <Idiot. You never learn, do you?> She put her feet up on another chair and sipped from her glass.

Scully wanted to say something. Fletcher had retreated. Her eyes had seemed to turn from blue to gray. <Cold. Very cold eyes. Just who are you, Fletcher Buchanan? How much pain are you hiding?>

"I think I know how you feel, Fletcher," she said putting her hand on Fletcher's arm. Fletcher didn't move, didn't even look at her. "I feel like I was a disappointment to my father. He wasn't all that happy with me going to medical school, and then when he finally accepted that, I turned around and joined the FBI. I don't think he ever approved of anything I did."

"And I bet you've spent your entire life trying to get his approval. I bet you still do, even though he's dead." She sighed. "What we do to please our parents...it's crazy," she commented, shaking her head. Fletcher suddenly stood up. "Excuse me." 

She cleared the dishes off the table and carried them into the house.

Scully sensed that Fletcher needed to be alone. <That's the first time I've ever seen her that way. She looks sad, hurt.> And Scully wanted to ease her pain somehow, reach out to her. 

She waited politely on the patio by herself. Fletcher wasn't gone long. And when she returned, it was if the conversation had never occurred. She had a small smile on her face.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to be such a 'gloomy gus'."

"It's okay, Fletcher. I understand."

"You know something, Red? I think you do. Thanks." She squeezed Scully's hand once, then quickly let go. "Feel like watching a movie?"

"As long as it's not one of Mulder's."

"I just buy 'em. I don't watch 'em," she laughed.

They walked into the den and Fletcher turned on the TV. She found the remote and began flipping through the channels.

"Well, we've got an action-adventure shoot 'em up, a war movie, a romance, a comedy and oh, what have we here?"

"What's that?"

"Are you much of a Katherine Hepburn fan?"

"Yes."

"One of my favorites - the Philadelphia Story - is on in 15 minutes."

"I don't think I've seen that one."

"It's got her, Cary Grant and Jimmy Stewart. It's a classic."

"Let's watch it then."

End Chapter 4 - Fletcher

Saturday, 5:30 PM

Fletcher had sat in what Scully guessed to be her favorite recliner through the entire movie. She herself had sat on the couch. Fletcher hadn't said much during the movie. <She's keeping her distance> Scully thought. <She's not comfortable sharing her feelings. I wish I could let her know that it's okay.>

"Can I interest you in some dinner?" Fletcher asked when the movie had ended.

Scully looked directly at Fletcher. She had trouble reading the look on her face. <I know it's only dinner that's she invited me to but why do I feel it might turn out to be more than just dinner? And why doesn't that bother me? I think I'd like it to be more than dinner. Just what, I don't know.>

"I wouldn't want you to go to any bother," she said politely.

"I'd be fixing myself something whether you were here or not. It's just as easy to cook for two as it is for one."

"Okay. I'll stay for dinner then."

Scully followed her into the kitchen. Fletcher opened the refrigerator and looked through the well-stocked shelves.

"What do you feel like having?" she asked.

"Whatever you feel like cooking."

"Well, how about stir fry?"

"Sure. Can I help?"

"Yes, by picking out some music and putting it on the stereo in the den. I always cook to music."

"I guess I can handle that."

"Give me a holler if you have any questions."

Scully went into the den and found the stereo. There were hundreds of CD's in the cabinet under the CD player. By the time she'd picked out 3 CDs and put them in, Fletcher had already cut up the vegetables and chicken and was cooking them in a well-used wok. There was a pot steaming rice on the counter.

She stopped int the doorway and watched Fletcher cook. She was singing softly with the CD's. Scully remembered her singing in the car but tonight was different, the music softer, slower. She thought her voice appealing -deep and a little throaty - and a little sexy. <Sexy? Where did that come from? I shouldn't be thinking that about Fletcher.>

"Something wrong, Red?" Fletcher asked, seeing the odd look on her face.

"No, I'm fine. I was just daydreaming. Is there anything else you need me to do? Can I at least set the table?" Scully offered.

"Sure. We can eat in here or in the diningroom."

"Oh let's eat in the diningroom. I don't think I've ever had dinner in a house with a chandelier."

"The dishes and placemats are in the hutch."

A short time later they were sitting down to dinner. Fletcher had turned on the chandelier, but had dimmed the lights a bit. She had grabbed another bottle of wine out of her wine cellar and poured them both a glass.

"I suppose wine isn't really called for with Chinese, but it's not 'really' Chinese food."

"This is really good," Scully complimented Fletcher. "I now know why Mulder raves so much about your cooking."

"Thank you. Coming from you, it's a compliment. Mulder usually eats so fast, I don't think he really tastes any of it."

"Well, it's not out of a box or a can. Mulder would find it to be nirvana."

"You got a little color in your face today, Red," Fletcher said, noticing the slightly red cheeks. "It looks good. Nice and healthy."

"I hate to admit it, but Mulder's right." <I've been saying that a lot lately, and it's really beginning to irritate me.> "I don't get out much."

"I try to run every other day just so I can get outside. Sometimes, when I'm at Quantico, and I'm feeling stressed, I'll go out and run the course."

"What are you fixing Mulder for dinner?"

"Lasagna. I'll fix it tonight and bake it tomorrow. Have you decided if you're coming over or not?"

"I think so," Scully said, looking down, unable to look Fletcher in the eyes.

"I don't mean to be an ungracious host, but I'll have to get you home soon so I can get my Sunday dinner fixed."

"I'd like to stay and help you."

"Well, I guess you could make the salad."

"Don't trust me to cook anything?" she teased Fletcher.

"It's not a question of trust. I'm just very particular about my cooking."

<She doesn't seem to want to leave> Fletcher thought. 

 Scully thought. 

Saturday, 9:00 pm

Fletcher finished her second pan of lasagna. Scully was impressed that Fletcher had made it from scratch, using homemade sauce, and grating the cheese herself.

"Why two pans?" she asked.

"I always send a pan home with Mulder. At least I know he'll get a few meals out of it."

"He's got that pathetic act down pat," Scully said, chuckling and shaking her head.

"I know. He's the only person I've ever had even faintly maternal feelings for."

"My mother says that every time she sees him, she wants to feed him."

"He does have that affect on most women, myself included, I'm ashamed to admit."

She finished her wine and started cleaning up the mess she'd made.

"Do you want to see what's for dessert?"

"You fixed dessert, too?"

"No, I stopped at this little Italian bakery for the bread and dessert. My baking skills don't extend much beyond cakes and cookies."

She opened up the refigerator and took out a large box. Scully could see that there was another box still in the refrigerator.

"I bought extras for Mulder," Fletcher explained with a sheepish grin. She opened the box and broke off a small piece. "Try this."

She held a small piece of a canoli in front of her. Scully opened her mouth and Fletcher placed a piece in her mouth. She popped a piece into her own mouth, hardly tasting it. She couldn't take her eyes off Scully. 

"That's so good it's almost sinful," Scully commented, looking at Fletcher.

"Let me give you a piece of the chocolate."

Scully could no longer ignore or dismiss the feelings that were filling her. <Why does Fletcher affect me so much? I can't believe how much I -want her? Is that what I'm feeling? Do I want her? I know I want her to want me.>

Fletcher broke off another piece. <Oh, goddess, I can't believe I'm feeding her canoli and I can't believe she's letting me. I'll never be able to look at another canoli again in my life without thinking of this moment.> She held it out for Scully. This time, Scully pulled the morsel off Fletcher's fingers slowly, capturing her fingertips between her lips, her tongue lightly touching them.

Fletcher held her breath. <Did she just do what I thought she did? Oh, jeez, I want this woman so bad. If something doesn't happen soon...Air. I need some air. Or a cold shower. Breathe, you idiot. Breathe.>

Scully watched Fletcher carefully. She hadn't backed away. She wasn't sure, but Fletcher's eyes seemed a little glassy. <Why did I do that? Did I have too much to drink? No, face it, Dana, you want her. And she wants you. At least I think she does.>

"Fletcher, can I ask you a question?"

"What?" she croaked. <Here it comes. Damn. So close....>

"Do you want to kiss me?"

<Oh, no, you don't Scully. Don't put it all on me. This has got to be your decision.>

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes..."

Fletcher bent her head and laid the gentlest of kisses on the perfect lips in front of her. When Scully didn't move away, she dipped her head in again for another kiss, this time increasing the pressure. She wanted to touch her, but was afraid to, didn't want to scare her off.

Scully reached up and put her hand on the back of Fletcher's neck, pulling her closer. <I'm kissing another woman - another woman! And it's so...right...how could I have ever wanted anything else?...>

Fletcher felt Scully's mouth open, drawing her tongue inside. Fletcher groaned, unable to stop the feelings that were rushing through her. Her hands slid down Scully's back and to her waist. She pulled Scully in to her, slipping her thigh between Scully's legs.

"You're so beautiful..." Fletcher murmured, kissing Scully's neck before returning to those fabulous lips.

"Fletcher, if you don't take me to you bed right now..." she gasped, moving against Fletcher's thigh.

"Are you sure about this, Red?" <Oh, please, oh please, oh please, don't say no.>

"I think so...yes..."

She pressed her lips to Fletcher's and kissed her.

End Chapter 5 - Fletcher

Saturday night

Scully had no recollection of how they got upstairs to Fletcher's bedroom. At some point, they'd taken off their shoes and she thought, but couldn't be sure, that Fletcher had taken her sweater off - or had she taken it off herself? It was all such a blur. Her thoughts were clouded in an unfamiliar passion. Try as she might, she could only remember kissing in the kitchen and then finding herself in Fletcher's bedroom, on the bed, in her arms, kissing deeply and passionately.

Fletcher's hand dropped to Scully's waist and she slowly untucked her shirt. She lay her hand on Scully's soft, flat stomach, then slowly inched upward. Scully tensed, nervous and unsure of herself and the situation.

"Fletcher...I'm not...I've never..." she confessed.

"Red, I am and I have, so relax. It's okay." she said, giving Scully a quick, soft kiss.

Fletcher sat back for just a moment and pulled her own sweater off. She lay back down beside her and returned to her mouth. She couldn't get enough of Scully's lush lips. She kissed her deeply as she slowly unbuttoned Scully's blouse. <Just one more button...yes...now to her bra...oh, goddess her skin is so soft...where's the damn clasp?...slow down, fool...take your time...>

Suddenly Scully's hands were on her shoulders, not really pushing her away, but not encouraging her either. She stopped what she was doing, inwardly groaning at the turn of events.

"What's the matter, Red?" she asked, her hand sweeping the red hair out of Scully's eyes. "Do you want me to stop?"

"I don't know...no...I just don't know, Fletcher..." She looked away.

"Red, whatever you want - or don't want - is okay with me," she said gently, reassuringly even though her body was aching at the thought of stopping. <Just look at me, Red. Please.>

"I want you, Fletcher...really...I do...it's just that..."

"Just what?"

"It's that my body says yes...but my mind keeps saying no, that this is wrong."

Fletcher leaned over her, her mouth only inches from Scully's. Scully looked up at her. <Is that desire I see? Oh, goddess, please...>

"And your heart? What does your heart say?" she whispered, her lips almost touching Scully's lips, their eyes locked.

Scully hesitated for only a fraction of a second before closing her eyes and putting her hand on the back of Fletcher's neck. She pulled Fletcher closer and answered her with a deep kiss, her tongue seeking access to Fletcher's.

<That's it, Red> Fletcher thought as they kissed. <Stop thinking. Just let your body take over...>

She placed several small kisses along Scully's neck and collarbone. She finally unhooked Scully's bra, releasing her breasts from their flimsy restraints. She pushed the material aside, her fingers lightly brushing against the nipples.

Scully's hands were suddenly, unexpectedly pulling up Fletcher's t-shirt. Fletcher moved away just long enough to pull her shirt and sports bra off. She tossed them onto the floor, then added Scully's shirt and bra to the pile.

"You are so beautiful, Red..." she choked, her eyes taking in the sight of Scully lying back on the bed.

She slowly, gingerly lowered body on top of Scully's. She couldn't believe how sensitive her own body was. It was if every nerve in her body was on overload. At the first touch of nipple against nipple, Fletcher swore she was going to lose it. She pressed her body into Scully's, her mouth trailing kisses down her neck and across her shoulders.

Scully cautiously, tentatively moved her arms around Fletcher, her hands gliding up and down her back. <Her muscles are so hard...but her skin is so soft...> She shifted so her thigh was between Fletcher's legs. She could feel the heat even through the denim, and knew that that the warmth matched her own.

Fletcher had moved lowered and her mouth was at breast. At first, her lips were gentle, loving. As Scully's nipples hardened, she took one gently between her teeth and flicked at it with her tongue.

<Oh, god, it's like a direct line to my clit> Scully thought as the warmth between her legs rose. 

Fletcher hands dropped to Scully's waist but she hesitated.

"Yes, yes...Fletcher...please..." she whispered against Fletcher's throat.

Fletcher fumbled with the zipper. <Oh, goddess, what a time for me to be clumsy...why can't I do this...>

Scully's hands were suddenly atop Fletcher's.

"Let me..." she offered.

She pulled the zipper down, lifted her hips from the bed and quickly pulled them off. Before Fletcher could return to her, she moved her hands to Fletcher's fly. She adroitly unbuttoned the top button.

"Take them off, Fletcher...I want to feel you too..."

Fletcher did as she was told and promptly removed her remaining clothes. She threw back the covers and then she settled her body back atop Scully's, breasts against breasts, thighs between legs.

<Incredible...her body feels better than I ever imagined...> Fletcher thought, her mouth returning to Scully's breast. She moved her hand up to Scully's other breast and began to fondle it, teasing the nipple.

Scully needed either (or both) of Fletcher's actions to be repeated lower on her body. She spread her legs a little further and pressed up against Fletcher's thigh.

 Fletcher thought, feeling the rush of warmth between her own legs. 

Her hand left Scully's breast and slowly and deliberately trailed down her torso. Her fingers urgently traced every curve, every crevice. Scully's hips thrust up against her hand, demanding more contact. She sucked and nipped at Scully's erect nipples. Using her fingers, she stimulated her clit with a motion that matched her tongue.

She felt and heard Scully's desire rise, and her own desire rose with it. <More...I've got to give her more...> Her mouth wihdrew from Scully's breast and she left a trail of small, wet kisses as she moved down her body.

Scully soon realized what Fletcher's intentions were and she weakly grabbed at Fletcher's shoulder.

"Fletcher, you don't..." Her words caught in her throat at the first touch of Fletcher's tongue. "Oh, god, Fletcher..." she moaned.

Back and forth, from the source of the wetness to her clit, she went with her tongue. Scully's hips began rocking in the same rhythm. She sensed how close Scully was to climaxing. She took her swollen, throbbing clit into her mouth at the same time she shoved two fingers inside.

"Oh, god...Fletcher..." she moaned.

<I'm coming...> she thought, then she lost the ability to think clearly. The force of her own orgasm astounded her, overwhelmed her. But before she could even process it, enjoy it, another one slammed into her.

"Oh, Fletcher..." she called out, the loudness of her voice startling her.

She grabbed at the back of Fletcher's head as her hips bucked wildly up from the bed. Her heels dug into the bed as she strained against her.

"Yes...yes...Fletcher...oh, god..."

Her body went rigid, then collapsed back against the bed. Fletcher's head was beside her hip, face down and she was breathing heavily. Her arms went about her waist and she hugged her tightly as she was unable to speak as well.

<When has anyone ever made me feel this way?> Scully thought as she felt Fletcher gradually move back up her body. Before, it had always been a means to an end - strictly foreplay, nothing more. It had never been the intent of any of her previous partners for it to be the method of making her come. It was almost as if they'd been performing some duty, some distasteful obligation that they'd felt.

Fletcher lay atop Scully, her breaths heavy and deep against her neck. She felt Scully's hands tenderly kneading her back and shoulders.

"Good lord, Red...that was fantastic..." she sighed.

"Fletcher..."

"Yes?" Fletcher kissed Scully's neck, then her earlobe.

"It's never happened like that for me before..."

"My poor Red, always in control...so much so that you couldn't even enjoy sex." She kissed Scully's forehead. "What happened tonight?"

"I guess I lost control," she said, a small smile on her face. She kissed Fletcher, tasting something foreign yet somehow familiar. <Oh, god, that's me on her lips> she thought and then she kissed Fletcher even harder. She slid her hands downward and squeezed Fletcher's small rearend.

"Get on your back..." she ordered Fletcher.

"Red, you don't have to...I'm okay with this...I don't need anything..."

"I need to..." she said huskily, gently pushing Fletcher off of her and onto her back. She tucked her hair behind her ear, then leaned over Fletcher. "I want to make you feel what I just felt..."

"Oh, Red..."

She kissed Fletcher softly on the kips, then her neck. Her small hands shyly covered the small breasts. <They're so soft...so soft...> she marvelled before taking a nipple into her mouth. The hardened instantly at the first touch. Growing bolder, Scully slid her hand down further, across the stomach and hips. She felt Fletcher stir beneathe her fingers. She ran her fingertips through the short, curly hair.

"Did I do that?" Scully murmured against her neck, her fingers stroking the wetness that she'd discovered between Fletcher's legs.

"Oh, yeah...and it's time you took some responsibility for your actions..."

"Ever the comedienne..." she said, suddenly slipping one, then two fingers deep inside of Fletcher. "Oh, you feel so good, Fletcher...so soft...so warm...so wet..."

Fletcher couldn't hold back the groan that escaped from her throat.

Using only her most recent experience and her past self-inflicted ministrations as her guide, Scully began to pump her fingers in and out, finding the pace Fletcher set with the thrusts from her hips. She found Fletcher's clit with her thumb and pressed hard.

"Oh, yeah, Red...just like that..." Fletcher gasped.

She continued with her actions, feeling herself grow wet at the realization that she was making Fletcher come. She rode Fletcher's thigh, letting just the pressure make her almost climax along with Fletcher.

Just as she was about to come, Fletcher took Scully's head in her hands and kiseed her roughly, her tongue thrusting into her mouth. She moved her hand down and plunged two fingers deep into Scully. They came together in a rush, neither able or wanting to stop it.

Fletcher's head fell back against the pillows and she slowly and reluctantly removed her fingers from Scully. Scully lay her head on Fletcher's chest and listened to the pounding heart slowly return to its normal steady beat.

"Uh, Red?"

"Yes?" <Oh, I hope it was good for her. I hope she enjoyed it as much as I did.>

"Are you sure you've never done this before?" she asked, kissing the top of her head.

Scully smiled and she kissed Fletcher's chest. Fletcher's hand caressing her back was the last thing she remembered before drifting off to sleep.

Sunday, 1:15 am

Fletcher carefully got out of bed without waking the sleeping woman beside her. She pulled the covers up over Scully's bare shoulders. She put on her robe and quietly went downstairs to check the locks and alarms. When everything was set, she sat down in the dark kitchen. Her hands went to her temples and she rubbed them, then her eyes.

<Oh, boy, Fletcher...history sure has a way of repeating itself...You've either made the biggest mistake of your sordid life or...oh, goddess, I hope it's the right one. I'm crazy about her. I see her, and I want to hold her in my arms. I have since the first time I saw her.>

She went back upstairs. She took off her robe, hanging it up on its customary spot - the bedpost - then climbed back into bed.

"Fletcher, where were you? I was going to go looking for you." Scully nestled her body against Fletcher's.

"I couldn't remember if the doors were locked and the alarms set. I was distracted earlier."

"Distracted by what?" Scully asked with a knowing smile.

"Well, there was this beautiful, no, not just beautiful, but down right stunning woman in my kitchen doing really wild things with canolis."

"And then what happened?" she asked, moving so that she was atop Fletcher, her legs straddling her hips.

"And then I ended up having the best sex of my entire life."

Scully leaned over Fletcher, her breasts hanging down. Fletcher reached up and covered them with her hands. <So soft...so beautiful...>

"It would be a hard act to follow," she whispered against Fletcher's neck. "But I really would like to try and improve on your last statement."

Fletcher could feel Scully's arousal on her stomach as Scully moved against her. She slowly slid her body down so that Scully was almost sitting on her face. Scully reached up and grabbed the headboard when she felt Fletcher's tongue go inside of her, then move to her clit.

"Oh, christ, Fletcher..."

Fletcher now knew how to read Scully. She knew what she wanted, how to make her come, how to tell when she was climaxing. She kept at it, only pulling back, easing off when she sensed Scully was close to an orgasm.

"You're...driving...me... crazy...Fletcher...please...I'm...so...close..." she gasped.

She suddenly dipped two fingers deep into Scully and easily pumped them in and out. She took her engorged clit into her mouth and sucked hard. Scully bucked hard above her, her head glancing off the headboard.

"Oh...God...Fletcher..." she screamed aloud, her body tensing stiffly, then collapsing onto her stomach.

Fletcher carefully moved out from underneath her. She gently rubbed Scully's back and ass. She could feel Scully's body occasionally spasm, shudder. She leaned over and kissed her behind the ear.

"You okay, Red?"

"I can't move...I can't even think..."

"Then don't," she said, softly massaging her back.

"What you do to me, Fletcher..."

"What you do to me, Agent Scully."

"Thank you."

"The pleasure was all mine."

"Oh, I don't know about that..." She sighed. "That feels so nice."

"I can't get enough of you, Red, or your body." She kissed her back. "You're so beautiful..."

"I...I can't stay awake..." Scully apologized.

"Then sleep."

"I wanted to...you've just wiped me out...I can't..."

"It's okay. Go to sleep."

Sunday, 7:45 AM

<Oh, goddess, thank you> Fletcher said as she woke up once more next to the beautiful redhead. <I can't believe it finally happened. Never in my dreams could it have been so fantastic. Please let it be more than a one-night stand. I couldn't bear to lose her now. Please, oh please, don't let her be freaked out by what happened. I don't want to think it, I'm afraid to think it, but oh goddess, I think I could really fall for her.>

She carefully got out of bed and pulled on sweatpants and an old flannel shirt. She went downstairs and put on a pot of coffee and began breakfast. She found herself alternating between grinning and flushing when she thought about the night before. She hummed and whistled as she made a quick breakfast of omelets and toast.

Upstairs, Scully woke up to the smell of coffee. She was momentarily disoriented. <Where am I? Where are my clothes?> She closed her eyes and shook her head. <Wake up, Dana.> She rubbed her forehead. <Fletcher. I'm at Fletcher's> she remembered. She then recalled the actions of the night before and a new warmth flooded her groin.

She looked up to the sound of Fletcher coming into the room.

"Good morning," Fletcher said, setting a tray on the dresser.

"Good morning," she replied, sitting up and pulling the covers up with her.

<Uh oh. Not a good sign. She's embarrassed.> Fletcher's heart fell.

"Here," Fletcher said, handing Scully her robe. "It's a little chilly in here."

"Thanks." She pulled on Fletcher's flannel robe, then re-adjusted the covers.

<I've got a million questions for you, Red, but I'm afraid to ask you a one. How do you feel? Are you ready to run screaming from my house now? Are you looking for a way to gracefully get out of here? Please say something, Red. I'm dying here. Let me know now while it won't hurt so much. Like hell it won't hurt much. It'll kill me.>

"Hope you're hungry," she said calmly. "I fixed a breakfast for us."

"Oh, you didn't have to do that for me."

<How sweet. I don't think anyone's ever made me breakfast in bed, except maybe mom when I was a little kid and home sick. What was it - measles?>

"I don't mind. I like to cook, remember?"

She brought the tray over and then nervously sat down beside Scully. <She's nervous> Scully thought. <What is she afraid of - rejection? I should be the one that's afraid. She's experienced at this sort of thing. Not me.>

"Um, Fletcher, I do have one complaint about breakfast," she said with a smile.

"What? You don't like omelets?" she asked, a lump in her throat.

"Don't I get a good-morning kiss with breakfast?"

"Oh, Red..." Fletcher's shoulders sagged with relief.

<The world is good again! She's not leaving yet!> She leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips. Scully reached up and held her face for a longer kiss, opening her mouth for Fletcher. Fletcher slipped her hand inside of the robe and stroked Scully's nipples until they hardened, which didn't take long.

"Uh, breakfast's getting cold," she said, breaking off the kiss and reluctantly taking her hand away.

 Scully thought as she ate her breakfast. 

"I'd better shake a leg. Mulder'll be here by noon. When food is involved, he's always early."

"Oh, damn, I forgot all about Mulder. He's supposed to call me to see if I needed a ride here."

"When's he supposed to call?"

"Around 10:00."

"Relax, it's only 8:30. I just don't think I can get you home and back before noon."

"I'll think of something when he calls."

"You're welcome to borrow any clothes I have that'll fit. Actually, I've got a Redskins sweatshirt you can have. If you're watching football here, you've got to wear the right clothes." She got out of bed. "Want to join me for a shower?" she asked, pulling her shirt off.

"Can I trust you?" Scully asked, the want in her eyes unmistakable.

"Absolutely." She paused, then added, "Not."

"Good."

End Chapter 6

Sunday, 10:10 am

Wearing borrowed underwear, t-shirt and sweatshirt, and her own jeans, Scully went downstairs. Fletcher was in the kitchen, finishing up the preparations for tomorrow's dinner.

"Good morning, again," Fletcher said, kissing her on the cheek.

"Good morning," she replied, returning the kiss. "Can I help with anything?"

"No, I'm almost done. I've just got to finish loading the dishwasher."

Scully's phone rang and she answered it.

"Scully."

"It's me, Scully. Should I pick you up? Are you going to go with me?"

"Actually, Mulder, I'm already at Fletcher's. She picked me up earlier," she said, not really lying.

"What?"

"I'm getting a cooking lesson."

"You, Scully?"

"Well, you did complain about not being fed properly. Maybe I'll learn a few things from Fletcher."

Mulder bit back his response. <I'm sure you could, Scully. I just don't know if they'd be quite what you're looking to learn.>

Fletcher choked back her laughter. She motioned to Scully to hand her the phone as she toweled off her hands.

"Hey, Wonder Boy."

"Good morning. Are you behaving yourself, Fletcher?"

"What do you think?"

"I would hope so."

"You'll have to ask Scully if you don't believe me."

"How's the cooking lesson?"

"Oh, I think Agent Scully is a very apt pupil. She might even be able to boil water by the end of the day."

Mulder snorted into the phone and Scully slapped Fletcher in the arm.

"Ow. You didn't tell me your partner was so rough, Mulder."

"Isn't that how you like 'em, Fletcher?"

"Pig."

"Slut."

"On that note, I'll let Scully have the phone back. See you later, Spooky."

"Lecher."

"Honestly, you two, " Scully said to Mulder. "I only heard part of the conversation, but it was enough."

"Oh, Scully..." he whined.

"Will we see you around noon?"

"Of course. I'm never late for dinner."

"So I've been told. Later, Mulder."

She clicked the cell phone off and turned to Fletcher.

"What does Mulder have to ask me?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said, and I quote, 'you'll have to ask Scully if you don't believe me.'"

"Oh, he wanted to know if I was behaving myself. I can't see him asking you that."

"Not without embarrassing himself."

"So, what do we tell him, if anything? It's up to you, Scully."

"He knows about you?"

"Since day one almost. He used to hang out with me and, well, any my girlfriend at the time."

"It was Clarice Starling, wasn't it?"

"Yes," she said in the same small voice that she'd used yesterday.

<Sounds like there's some unresolved issues with that relationship> Scully thought. 

"I guess I'll just see what happens," Scully said, changing the topic back to Mulder.

"Don't ask, don't tell."

"But if he asks, I'll tell."

"Scully, I know we haven't talked about what happened last night-"

"And this morning," she said smiling, her arms around Fletcher's waist.

"Are you okay with all of this?"

"Do you mean do I still respect you?" she laughed.

"Dana..."

"You've never called me Dana before," she said, her laughter fading.

"I realize this isn't the time to talk about it, but you'll want to soon. I just want you to know that I hope last night wasn't a one-night stand. It meant too much to me to have it be just that."

"Oh, Fletcher, don't worry," she reassured, her hand on Fletcher's cheek. "I've grown too fond of you for it to be just a little affair."

Sunday, noon

Mulder arrived promptly, his arms full of bags.

"I picked up some beer and munchies," he explained.

"Well, what time do you want dinner?"

"Whenever."

"It's baking now."

"What'd you fix?"

"Lasagna."

"Mmmmmmm. My favorite."

"Mulder, every meal is your favorite, as long as someone else is cooking or buying."

He nodded his agreement as he opened a beer. "Where's Scully?"

"On the patio."

"I'll take her a beer."

They walked out on to the deck together, Fletcher's arm around her best friend's neck.

"You're in an awfully good mood," he said. <Actually, she's almost got that just-laid look, but it's been so long since I've seen it on her face, that I could be wrong.>

"Why shouldn't I be? It's another beautiful fall day, there's a federal holiday tomorrow, the 'skins are on, I've got lasagna cooking and two of my favorite people in the whole world are spending the day with me."

"Since when did Scully join the top ten?" he asked, curiously.

"I don't know. Does it matter?"

"No, I guess not."

Scully turned around when they walked outside. She looked at the two of them together. Both were wearing faded jeans and sneakers. Fletcher was wearing a maroon Redskins mock-tee and a faded baseball hat. Mulder was wearing his team sweatshirt. <They look like brother and sister - no, that's not right. They look more like brothers.> She looked at Mulder, then Fletcher and then she smiled. <How'd I get so lucky? A great partner and - > she blushed < - a great lover - and they're best friends.>

Mulder couldn't believe the look on her face - a look he'd never seen before. <Scully looks happy. She almost looks - radiant? Is that the right word?> It was then he realized Scully was smiling - a large, warm smile that reached all the way to eyes. <She never smiles - not like that, anyway. Oh, damn, is it possible? Are Scully and Fletcher...no way. Scully's straight. Fletcher wouldn't dare.>

He handed Scully a beer and looked at her a little more closely.

"Something wrong, Mulder?" she asked.

"No," he stammered, embarrassed to be caught staring. "You just look different somehow."

Scully didn't want Mulder to look at her too carefully again, so she turned to Fletcher.

"Fletcher, how far back does your property go?" she asked, looking at the wooded lot beyond the large yard.

"Oh, twenty acres back and twenty acres left and right. I also own the same amount of property across the road. The family used to own more, but I've sold some property. I'll probably keep all of this until I leave. Owning all the surrounding property insures my privacy."

"How do you keep it secure?"

"I have my ways," she said with a small smile.

"Fletcher's security system rivals Fort Knox," Mulder joked.

"And with good reason. You know the type of trash I deal with - nobody I'd want dropping in unexpectedly."

"Then how did Mulder get in?"

"He's the only person other than me that has his own security code." She took a large drink from her beer. "How about dinner during halftime?"

"I don't know if I can wait that long," Mulder complained.

"Don't whine, Wonder Boy. I was thinking halftime of the first game."

"I guess I can wait 'til then."

"Good. Anyone for another?" she asked, raising her empty beer bottle.

They both nodded and Fletcher left to get another round. Scully tried not to watch Fletcher walk away.

"Since when have you two become such good friends?" he asked, trying to feign indifference.

"I don't know. We've just been having lunch and dinner occasionally."

"That's all?"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing."

He was suddenly embarrassed to ask, wasn't sure if he really wanted to know. And if Scully didn't know about Fletcher, didn't know she was gay, well, he didn't want to be the one to tell her. <I'd be a little surprised if she hasn't already figured it out, but then again, Scully always was a little na•ve.>

"Mulder, the game's almost on," Fletcher said as she returned with the beer. "I even put munchies out for you."

"Great."

Fletcher closed the screen behind them but left the sliding glass door open. It was too nice outside to close it. She flopped down beside Mulder on the couch.

<They look like twins> Scully thought. <They slouch the same way, they have the same expression on their face, the same mannerisms. I wonder who sub-consciously copied from whom?> She remembered something Fletcher had said the day before - "Mulder's the brother I never had". <He could say the same about you, Fletcher. You're the brother he never had.>

She sat down on the loveseat and decided that it would be more entertaining to watch the two of them than to watch the game.

"Ready?" Fletcher asked Mulder.

"I'm ready."

"I say first play is a run," she said laying a dollar on couch between them.

"I agree," he replied, laying a dollar on top of Fletcher's.

They watched the first play in silence.

"Run," he said, putting another dollar down.

"Pass," she countered, adding to the pile of dollars.

The next play was a pass and Fletcher scooped up the pile of dollar bills. "Like candy from a baby," she chortled. "Hope you brought plenty of money, Wonder Boy."

"It's still early, and we've got another game to go."

"Good. I don't mind making your wallet a little lighter."

"Better my wallet than my loafers," he smirked.

"Smart ass."

"What's that mean?" Scully asked.

Fletcher grinned and turned to Mulder. "You said it, Wonder Boy, you explain it."

"Um, uh, limp-wristed?" he offered up as an explanation.

"What a 'charming' term." Scully shook her head. "Do you bet on every play?"

"No, only during the first and third quarters."

"How long have you been doing that?"

"How long have we been watching football together, Mulder? 10 years?"

"Close to it."

"Who's ahead?"

"I think we're pretty even."

"Anyone need another beer?" Scully asked, getting up.

"Yes, thanks. And make sure my buddy Mulder has another, too. I want to get him drunk and take advantage of him - in the betting parlor," she laughed.

"Halftime."

"Dinnertime!" Mulder said happily.

"Be a good little boy, Mulder," Fletcher teased. "Get washed up and then go into the diningroom. I've set the table there."

She went into the kitchen with Scully and together they brought all the food out. Mulder was already sitting at the table, a knife and fork in hand.

"Y'know, Mulder, it's tomorrow that you get to act like the birthday boy, not today," Fletcher commented, shaking her head. "You're going to have to serve yourself."

He set his silverware down, dutifully chastened.

She sat down at the head of the table. "I suppose it's my fault. I shouldn't spoil you so."

Scully went back into the kitchen to get the wine bottle. Mulder waited until she was out of earshot.

"But you can't resist spoiling me, can you? You know I'll always be the only man in your life, Fletcher."

Scully returned and sat down opposite Fletcher. Mulder decided not to push his luck so he patiently waited for the food to be passed his way.

"You'd better leave room for dessert," Fletcher said as Mulder filled his plate with his second helping.

"No problem. I always have room for dessert."

"Well, I'm done. How about you, Scully?"

"Yes, thanks."

Fletcher stood up and began to clear the table.

"Take your time, Mulder. I'll bring the dessert in a few minutes."

Scully helped Fletcher clear the table and take care of the dishes. She peeked around the corner. Mulder was still at the table so she put her arms around Fletcher's waist.

"This is really hard."

"What? Pretending we're nothing more than friends or keeping our hands to ourselves?"

"Both. I don't like lying to Mulder."

"We're not lying. Not really. We're just keeping him in the dark."

"I still don't like it." She kissed Fletcher lightly on the lips. "I also don't know if I can hold out through another game."

"It's hard for me, too."

She gave Scully a quick kiss on the lips, her tongue darting in, then out. Scully slapped Fletcher on the butt.

"Hey!"

"You tease."

"I am not. I'm just giving you a preview of what's scheduled for tonight."

"Oh, really?" Scully asked, her best skeptical look plastered on her face.

"Yes, really. Why don't you go keep Spooky company? I'll bring in the coffee and dessert."

"Trying to get rid of me?"

"No, I'm trying control myself and with you in the room, it's extremely difficult," she said, jokingly pushing Scully out of the kitchen.

"Okay, okay. I get the message."

A few minutes later, Fletcher carried in a tray with a pot of coffee, three cups, and a plate filled with canoli.

"Oh, boy, canoli. I haven't had these in years," Mulder said, dropping three of them on his now clean plate.

"Canoli?" Fletcher asked, holding the plate in front of Scully. "Vanilla or chocolate?"

Scully took one look at the plate and blushed. Mulder was too involved in his eating to notice and Scully was grateful. Fletcher winked at Scully and smiled broadly.

"It's almost time for the second half, Fletcher," Mulder said, picking up two more canoli to take with him.

"Okay. I'll be right in. I haven't cleaned you out yet."

"Hey, Scully, are you staying tonight?" Mulder asked.

"Well, I'm not really prepared for it."

"Why don't you take my car and go get some clothes and stuff?" he suggested.

"Good idea. I left your present at my apartment."

"Well, we can't have that can we?"

He reached into his pocket and tossed her the keys. He turned and left the room.

"Do you need directions?" Fletcher asked.

"I think I can manage. I'll take my phone in case I get lost."

"To get through the gate, just use the generic code - 411911. I recycle the generic codes every two weeks."

"Okay."

"I'll see you in a few hours. Drive safely."

"I will."

She kissed Fletcher quickly, repeating what Fletcher had done to her earlier. Fletcher playfully slapped her butt.

"Save it for later," Fletcher said, smiling.

End Chapter 7

Sunday, 3:30 PM

 Scully thought as she drove to her apartment. <Suppose Mulder says something to Fletcher? I don't think he'd say anything in front of me, but he might if he and Fletcher were alone. I'm not sure I want him to know yet. I'm not even sure what there is to tell him. I know I slept with Fletcher last night - and hopefully tonight - > She smiled to herself. 

She parked Mulder's car and hurried into the building. The light was blinking on her answering machine. Almost absentmindedly she pressed the play button.

"Dana, this is your mom. How is your weekend? I've got some big news about Thanksgiving." <Not as big as my news> Scully laughed to herself. "Call me when you have a chance, honey."

"Hey, Red, it's me. Mulder's in the bathroom. Just wanted you to know I miss you already. Oh, yeah, and could you pick up some juice for breakfast tomorrow?" Her voice dropped, the lust apparent. "Can't wait to see you again, especially tonight. Bye."

Scully smiled and went into her bedroom to pack. She found a small backpack in her closet. <What should I pack? I suppose casual is fine. Should I bring something to sleep in? Hmmmm. I think not. Then again, there's something to be said for the thrill of being undressed.> She blushed, remembering what had happened and what she hoped to have happen again.

She quickly stuffed her bag with a few clothes. She found her present for Mulder and wrapped it. <Now, where did I put his card? The desk drawer?>

Back at the Fletcher's, with Scully gone, Mulder and Fletcher reverted to their old juvenile habits and behaviors. They began to bet on everything they could think of - the haircolor of the next cheerleader shown in a closeup, which team would first have a player aired scratching himself, what the next penalty called would be. The list was endless and ridiculous.

Fletcher was relieved that Mulder hadn't asked her about Scully. A few times she thought he was going to say something, but he kept his mouth shut. <Maybe I'm just being paranoid. He probably doesn't even suspect a thing. I hope so.>

"Y'know, Spooky, this game really stinks."

"I don't know if I can root for the 'skins anymore."

"Such a fickle fan."

"Well, I just can't watch them anymore today," he qualified. "They just keep finding ways to lose."

"Well, I have to agree. Feel up to a little 'Mortal Kombat'?"

"Sure. You must be in the mood for a little humiliation."

"Don't be sure about that, Wonder Boy."

"Do I hear a challenge?"

"But of course. Want to make a little wager?"

"Uh, I'm a little tapped out," he said a bit ruefully.

"I'm sure we can come up with something non-monetary to bet on."

Sunday, 6:15 PM

Scully walked into the house. She put the juice in the refrigerator. The TV was off and the den was empty. She walked from room to room, looking for Mulder and Fletcher.

"Fletcher? Mulder?" she called out, trying to keep the tension out of her voice.

"We're upstairs, Scully," Fletcher called out.

She walked upstairs and dropped off her bag in Fletcher's room before proceeding down the hall to "Mulder's" room. Fletcher and Mulder were sitting on the end of the bed in front of the TV. Fletcher had turned her hat around so that it was backwards. Scully saw that they were playing some Nintendo game. <They look like a couple of kids, no, adolescent boys.>

"I brought your bag up, Mulder. You left it in the car."

"Thanks," he said, not looking up. "Shit. Damn you, Fletcher." He threw his controls down. "You've been practicing."

"When you agreed to come over, well, of course I had to practice. You kicked my butt last time. I had to uphold my honor."

"Can I have winners?" Scully asked.

"Sure."

"Watch out, Scully. She cheats," he said, getting up from the bed.

"I do not, Mulder. You're just a sore loser."

"What happened to the football game?" she asked, sitting beside Fletcher.

"The 'skins suck, that's what happened," Fletcher said, disgusted.

"It was so bad that even betting on the game didn't help. We decided to play Mortal Kombat until you came back." He stopped in the doorway. "Anyone need another beer?"

"I'll have another, thanks."

"Fix me a vodka rocks, Loser Boy," Fletcher laughed.

"Do I look like a bartender?" he whined.

"To the victor goes the spoils. Three ice cubes, please."

Scully waited until Mulder was downstairs before she hit the pause button.

"What?" Fletcher asked.

"Has Mulder said anything to you about us?"

"You mean you and I?"

"Yes."

"No. I don't think he suspects a thing. Some detective, huh?" she smiled.

"We've got to tell him, Fletcher. I don't want him to find out because he stumbles across us together."

"He's already done that before with me. It's not a great way to find out; not for anyone involved."

"He should be told. It wouldn't be good for him to figure it out when I end up sleeping in your room tonight." Fletcher opened her mouth, but Scully cut her off. "And no, I have no intentions of sleeping in another room just so Mulder can be kept in the dark."

"Do you want to tell him or shall I?"

"It would probably be better coming from me, I suppose. I know you've known him longer, but I'm with him on an almost daily basis."

"And just what will you tell him?"

"That - that you and I are more than friends, I guess."

"I'm hearing a little uncertainty in your voice, Red."

"I guess I'm not really sure what we are, what we're doing. It's only been one night - "

"- and I great one a that," Fletcher grinned, her hand on Scully's knee. She saw the look of concern on Scully's face and her grin faded.

"Red, I know it's only been one night. Hopefully, it's the first night of many, many more. I don't want to pressure you. If you're really not okay with this, well, I wish I knew what to tell you. I'm not looking for a one-nighter or even a two-nighter. I'd like to keep on seeing you, but I can't promise you anything or guarantee that things won't change," she said truthfully. "I guess you need to know what you want, Red."

"I'm new at this, Fletcher. I know I like being with you, more than anyone else I know. I like the way I feel when I'm with you. I'd like to keep seeing you, too."

"Good. We'll just let things happen as they happen. Regarding Mulder, whatever you tell him will be fine with me," she said, giving Scully's hand a gentle squeeze.

Scully reached up and caressed Fletcher's cheek. Fletcher turned her head and kissed her palm, then moved closer to Scully. Before she had a chance to kiss her, they both heard Mulder coming back up the stairs, and they parted.

Fletcher got up from the bed and took her drink from Mulder. He leaned over and handed Scully a bottle of beer.

"Mulder, are you ready for dinner?" Fletcher asked. "I thought I'd warm up some leftover lasagna and garlic bread."

"You must be kidding," Scully said. "He's always ready for leftovers."
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