Genesis by Radclyffe

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Genesis VII: Resurrection
by Radclyffe
EMAIL ADDRESS: radclyffe@radfic.com
SERIES RATING: NC-17; This story depicts graphic sexual encounters between same-sex consenting adults.
SPOILERS: All eps since The Red and the Black
KEYWORDS: Scully/Other(female);Scully/Slash
DISCLAIMERS: The characters of Scully, Mulder, Skinner and others/events introduced on the X-Files are the sole property of Chris Carter etc, and are used here without permission for entertainment, not for profit.
Comments welcome.
Author's note: The entire Genesis series can be found at my website:
http://www.radfic.com/ or http://www.angelfire.com/nf/radclyffe/

Part One

Day One

She knew she had done it before -- countless times -- but it had never been like this. She was fully clothed and might as well have been naked. She felt Marsh against every centimeter of her body, tight and hot. Exquisite. Her nipples were painfully erect, the thin cotton of her black silk tee shirt offering little barrier to the piercing sensations produced by Marsh's linen shirt brushing against her chest. It felt like the wet rough surface of Marsh's tongue licking the tip of each one. Her breasts seemed to swell in anticipation of Marsh's long sensitive fingers caressing them. She inhaled unevenly as Marsh fitted one lean thigh a little tighter between her legs. *Oh godd* The seam of her black jeans rippled dangerously over the ridge of her clitoris, telegraphing shock waves that made her stomach tighten. Unbidden, her pelvis arched forward, seeking the elusive contact as Marsh moved insistently against her. Her thighs tightened around Marsh's leg as the teasing pressure drew a flood of warmth from her. *Underwear - I should have worn underwear. Oh fuck -- this is bad* Her head was pounding. She rested her cheek against Marsh's shoulder. *She smells so good*

"I love you," Marsh whispered in her ear.

She felt Marsh tremble almost imperceptibly in the circle of her arms. *Oh lord, I love you too* She groaned faintly, licked the side of Marsh's neck. Salty, soft, sweeter than anything she had ever known. She bit lightly, tugging at the skin. Marsh gasped. The hand on her back slid lower, to the junction of her spine and buttocks. Massaging firmly in tantalizing circles. Her hips followed suit, slowly rotating on Marsh's leg. She tried not to whimper.

"Behave," Marsh rasped.

"You never said it would be like this," she accused weakly, struggling for her voice.

Marsh's body shook with silent laughter.

The reverberations seemed to center directly in her clitoris. In fact, every nerve in her body seemed attached to it. This was making it too hard to breathe, too hard to move on trembling legs, too hard to remember there were others nearby.

With the last ounce of her control she moved away a fraction of an inch. The loss of contact felt like dying. "We have to go," she gasped.

Marsh leaned back, not loosening her hold on her lover. She looked at the beautiful face, the sharp angles and sculpted planes muted by desire. Those clear, piercing blue eyes were hooded with need. Even in the dim light she could see the pupils flicker and dance with arousal. She was the most alluring woman Marsh had ever known.

"I thought you wanted me to take you dancing?" Marsh teased.

Scully placed both hands flat against her lover's chest and pushed away another inch. "_This_ is not dancing! This is torture. Take me home."

Marsh laughed out loud, caught her hand, and led her through the crowd of women lost in the music, and each other. As soon as they slid into the car, she leaned over to Dana, kissing her thoroughly until she had her gasping.

"You are the sexiest woman I've ever seen," Marsh murmured, moving her lips over the edge of jaw, the ridge of cheekbone, the delicate eyelids. She tugged the teeshirt from Scully's jeans, laid the flat of her hand against her lover's abdomen. The muscles tensed beneath her fingers. She stroked around the dip of navel up to the undersurface of Dana's breasts, using her nails lightly to elicit little flickers of involuntary response. Dana moaned and pulled at Marsh's lips with her teeth, alternately licking and sucking her.

"You're making me crazy," Scully warned breathlessly, her mind hazy with a multitude of sensations. She grabbed Mash's hand, drew it higher to rest on her breast. "God I need you to touch me."

"Mmm--" Marsh murmured, finding a nipple, twisting repeatedly until Dana's hips jerked with each pinch. She lowered her head, caught the opposite one between her lips, sucking it in, teeshirt and all. Dana clutched Marsh's head, pressing Marsh's face hard to her breast.

"Marsh--" Scully whispered urgently, no longer able to form coherent sentences. Her mind was suffused with heat and color, swirling with pulsating urgency.

Marsh heard her distantly, her own desire thundering in her ears. She was precariously straddling the stick shift, one leg over Dana's. She had lost all awareness of anything except the woman in her arms. She groaned, reached for the zipper on Scully's jeans, her lips still trying to devour Dana's breast through the encumbrance of clothing.

Scully lifted her hips, pushing her jeans down -- desperate to help her. *Oh god -- touchme hurryhurry -- touch me -*

Marsh's fingers dipped down, parting the moist hair, sliding between the slick swollen lips, entering her effortlessly, fully, in one familiar movement. "Oh yess-" Marsh moaned.

Scully jerked back against the seat, her head slamming against the head rest. "Ohyeah--ohyeah, fuckmeMarsh--" She grabbed Marsh's forearm, pressing it harder between her legs. "Comeonbaby --- do it, do it now--"

Marsh was lost in Dana's passion, trying hard to time her thrusts with the wild bucking of her lover's hips. Every stroke wrenched a groan from her lips. "Oh you are so hot -- so good, oh godI loveyou-" She closed her eyes, pressed her forehead to Dana's shoulder -- half on top of her --pumping into her as Dana rode her hand.

Scully buried her fingers in Marsh's hair, clutching her like a lifeline to sanity. Her body was no longer her own, relentlessly seeking that ultimate explosion, and her mind seemed to be following into the abyss. Dimly she heard herself crying out, erratically, wildly, and she knew she was about to come. A squadron of police could have pounded on the windows of the car and she couldn't have stopped. She pushed down on Marsh's incredibly gifted fingers and let the storm take her.

Marsh felt the first contractions as Dana emitted a strangled shout. She pushed higher, curling her fingers slightly, and stroked the distended clit with her thumb, milking out every last tremulous spasm. She didn't stop even when Dana collapsed back into the seat.

At last Scully grasped Mash's wrist weakly. "Please stop," she gasped, her eyes still closed. "You're going to kill me."

Slowly Marsh eased her long length back into the driver's seat, reaching for Scully's hand with a sigh. "Well, the dancing went well."

Scully turned sluggishly in the seat to face her lover, thinking that she really should close her jeans. The effort seemed beyond her. "Yes, I thought so." She stroked Marsh's cheek tenderly. "Maybe next time, I should lead."

Marsh gazed at her, one dark eyebrow raising suggestively. "I don't think so. We wouldn't even make it to the car."

Scully smiled. "Then we'd better make love _before_ we go dancing."

*****

Scully watched her lover undress. She never got tired of seeing her form slowly revealed, transforming the imperturbable surgeon into the warm, vulnerable woman who held her close each night as they slept. Marsh caught her staring and smiled.

"I'm getting spoiled having you here every night," Marsh remarked, sliding naked into bed. She reached for Dana, gathering her into her arms.

"Mmm--" Scully murmured, threading an arm around Marsh's waist. "Now it's _your_ schedule that keeps us apart."

Marsh kissed the top of the golden-highlighted red head. These last few weeks had been so peaceful. She wondered how long it could last. "When do you think Skinner's going to decide on some permanent place for you?"

Scully sighed. "I don't know. I don't mind filling in at Quantico with the forensic work, or the teaching. I don't even mind being called for the occasional field assignment when Skinner needs us. It's just hard being a floater like this."

"How's Mulder taking it?"

Scully snorted. "About the way you would expect. He can't work for anyone, and he won't work _with_ anyone except me. He goes through the motions, but it's just a matter of time before Skinner loses patience with him. At least for now we're still being assigned cases together -- even if they are routine investigations."

"That's something, I guess," Marsh said, knowing it wasn't enough.

"I think he's secretly trying to piece the files back together -- from notes and information he had personally recorded. It's his life. He can't give it up." She sighed again. *And it's been my life too -- my whole life, really -- before you*

Marsh pushed herself up on the pillows, settling Scully's head against her shoulder. "How about you? Do you miss working the x-files?"

Scully was quiet a long moment. "I never thought I'd say this, but, yeah -- I do. I felt like the work I was doing was important. Oh -- not all of it -- the crank UFO sightings and blood sucking mutants --" She laughed faintly at the memory of some of their more bizarre cases. "But we were on the track of something -- whether it was of this world or not didn't really matter. It was a threat, and now, suddenly, we're expected to forget it. It's hard."

Marsh could hear the discontent and frustration in Dana's voice. She wasn't going to tell her how much better she felt with the x-files closed. At least now she didn't feel like Dana was in danger every time she left for work. There were plenty of positions in the bureau for a woman like Dana that didn't involve conspiracies and kidnapping and ungodly experimentations. In her opinion Dana had more than paid her dues. But it wasn't her opinion that mattered. It was how Dana felt, and Marsh knew she was unhappy.

"I'm sorry. Maybe you both just need a little time to adjust."

Scully nodded, unconvinced. She wasn't sure she _or_ Mulder would ever be satisfied with routine cases again. She sighed, and held Marsh tighter. The only good thing to come of the dissolution of the x-files was that with her more available, Marsh seemed calmer and less stressed. The nightmares seemed to be abating, too. That alone was almost worth the boredom bordering on emptiness she was experiencing in her professional life.

"Well one thing I'm having no trouble adjusting to is having more time with you," Scully murmured, rolling over onto her lover. She fit her leg between Marsh's and lowered herself onto Marsh's body.

Marsh raised her head to meet Dana's lips as she reached one arm out to turn off the light. Her lover's kiss promised it would be a short night.

*****

"The phone is ringing," Scully mumbled, pressing against Marsh, who lay with her front to Scully's back.

"Mmmph," Marsh acknowledged, casting a bleary glance toward the bedside clock. Two-thirty am. She woke fully as the ringing sounded again. "It's yours." It had been weeks since Dana had gotten one of these middle of the night summons. Marsh had forgotten how much she disliked having Dana dragged from her arms. Not that it didn't happen because of her own work, but at least she was only going across town. And no one was likely to shoot at her.

Scully fumbled on the nightstand for her cellphone. "Scully," she announced in a perfectly alert tone.

Marsh felt the woman next to her tense, and she knew their peaceful night was over. She tried not to be disappointed.

"Yes, sir. I'll be right there," Scully said as she swung her legs out from under the covers. She tossed the phone toward her clothes piled on a nearby chair and started toward the bathroom. "I have to go to Dallas."

Marsh sat up, switching on the light. "Now?"

"Yes," Scully called, turning on the shower.

Marsh padded in after her. "What's up?"

Scully looked at her, aware of the anxiety in her lover's voice. Marsh tried to hide her concern, but Dana sensed it. *Fuck. I hate to do this to her* She pushed the shower door open. "There's been a bomb threat called in to the Federal Building in Dallas. Skinner wants me and Mulder to join the search team."

Marsh stared at her, her stomach knotting. "Oh."

There wasn't time for anything else. Ten minutes later, Scully was on her way to the airport, and Marsh was lying awake in bed, alone.

Part Two

Day 2
Fifteen hours later
In the air over Georgia

"This is Dana Scully. Is Dr. Black in?" Scully scrunched down in the seat of the bureau plane, trying to eke out a private moment. This was the first opportunity she had found to call Marsh after the whole damn building nearly blew up in her face in Dallas. With Mulder in it. As it was, the SAC had been killed. They were all still reeling from that. *God I hope they weren't televising all of this* She could only imagine what Marsh would have thought if she had seen the bomb level nearly one square city block.

"No, I'm sorry. She's in surgery. May I take a message?"

*Yes, you may take a message! Tell her that her lover called and that I'm fine!* Scully took a deep breath. "Just tell her Dana called. Thanks."

Mulder opened an eye and peered at her. "D'you get her?"

"No," Scully snapped.

"Whoa. Sorry."

Scully sighed. "No, _I'm_ sorry. I just know she's worrying."

Mulder turned his head to look at her more fully. "She still having trouble with the flashbacks, and the nightmares?"

Scully's initial reaction was to deny it. She hated to reveal Marsh's private struggles, but Mulder knew already. "They're much better the last few weeks."

He heard the hesitation in her voice. "Since our office burned and we've been side-lined." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," she admitted. "It seems like we've been catching some rough assignments lately. It's hard on her."

Mulder chose his words carefully. Scully rarely talked about her relationship with Marshall Black. "Scully -- all our assignments are potentially dangerous ones -- we're field agents."

"What are you saying, Mulder?" Scully asked. *As if you didn't already know this, Dana*

"As long as you work cases, there's some potential for danger. Marsh has to accept that."

*What if she can't? What if her fear that I'll get killed, like Karen, is what's tearing her apart?* Scully pushed her seat back and closed her eyes. "She just needs a little time."

Mulder watched her in silence, never having known her to lie to herself before.

*****

It was nearly midnight when Marsh let herself into her apartment. She'd been on trauma back-up and that had turned into a full night of surgery. She should have been tired, but she was too anxious to see Dana to think about sleep. She sighed out loud when she saw the familiar trenchcoat and briefcase on the table just inside the door. Dana was here. Safe.

She climbed to the loft and undressed quietly in the dark, sliding under the sheets and fitting herself against the smooth back outlined in moonlight. She slipped her hand around her lover's waist, clasping the soft swell of breast as she pressed her lips to Dana's shoulder.

"I love you," she whispered after a moment.

Scully reached up to cover Marsh's hand with her own, needing the pressure of Marsh's fingers against her body. "I love you, too."

"Are you all right?" Another kiss, softly, against the base of her neck.

Scully brought those exquisitely trained fingers to her nipple, gasping faintly as Marsh squeezed. "Yes." Darius Michaud's face flashed through her mind. The deadly calm in his eyes as they left him there -- with the bomb. What it must have felt like alone in that room.

"I heard what happened," Marsh said softly, edging one thigh between Dana's legs, bringing her weight a little more firmly against Scully's back. She tried to shield her now as if another explosion were imminent. *I was so goddamned scared*

"I'm all right," Scully repeated, remembering the horrific noise and the shock waves and the shower of breaking glass and debris. She arched her hips back against Marsh's narrow pelvis, spreading her legs so that Marsh's skin touched the dampness high between her thighs. She gasped faintly as the under surface of her clitoris pressed into Marsh.

Marsh groaned as the wet heat spread on her leg. She moved her lips down to the point of Dana's shoulderblade, running her tongue along the sharp edge. Her free hand dropped to the base of Dana's spine, massaging the muscles coiled tightly there. Dana's hips began to rock under her. "I'm sorry," she whispered. *I'm so fucking glad it wasn't you. Or Mulder*

Scully concentrated on the tingling ache starting deep in her belly. "I know." She braced her hands on the bed and pushed up onto her knees, forcing Marsh to rise up behind her. "Put your hand in me." She forgot the fear.

Marsh's clit spasmed at the words. "Oh fuck," she moaned. She looked down over the long expanse of Scully's back, at the rounded prominence of her ass, and the tight line of her thighs. She wanted her right then, hard. She wanted to plunge into her, and claim her, and keep her there, always. Part of _her_, far from harm, safe. Her head pounded with the urge to protect her, fill her, own her. She ran her left hand over the strong firm buttocks, squeezing each one, working them in small circles. With the other she stroked the smooth skin on the inside of Dana's thighs until Dana's hips surged back against her.

"Marsh," Scully urged, rotating her pelvis unconsciously, opening her legs wider. "Don't torture me," she pleaded. The pain receded in the rush of arousal.

Marsh rested the tip of her thumb against the tight muscle between Dana's buttocks, running the fingertips of her other hand over the moist soft delicate folds of skin below. She fondled the slick swollen tissues, spreading them, lightly caressing the firm bulge of Dana's clitoris, nestled in the thick wet sheath. She tugged on the cum soaked lips, rolling them between her fingers, pressing them together, massaging the surrounding muscles -- softening them to receive her.

"Ahh -- god!" Scully cried, tilting her hips higher, trying to urge Marsh into her. "now -- please --"

Taking a deep breath, trying to control her surging desire, Marsh entered her in both places simultaneously. *Oh jesus -- so tight, so warm* She began a slow steady rhythm, pulling her fingers almost all the way out, then moving deeply inside once more.

"Oh yeah --" Scully panted, feeling the pressure coalesce in the nerve endings around her clitoris. She closed her eyes tightly, her forehead resting on the mattress, her hips thrusting up to meet Marsh's downward strokes. "fuckmefuckmefuckme" she chanted almost silently.

Marsh steadied herself by leaning against the back of Dana's legs, her arms trembling with the effort to be careful -- she didn't want to hurt her, but God, she wanted her. "I love you," she gasped, beginning to rock her pelvis against the back of her own arms. The friction caused her clitoris to swell further, and she began to lose her rhythm. "Oh Dana--" she murmured, "you make me so crazy."

Scully only groaned in response, aware only of the spiraling tension building inside. "Harder--" she cried. "I'm -- almost -- oh -- there--"

Marsh caught her lip between her teeth, holding onto her orgasm by sheer will power. "I'm gonna -- come -- with -- you --" she managed. Her arms were a blur of motion.

"Noww -- do it -- nooww --" Scully moaned, pumping hard on Marsh's hands, contracting on the long fingers inside her. Her head snapped up as the first spasms rolled through her. "ohh godd"

Marsh lurched forward, her hips moving erratically. "I'm --coming--"

For a timeless moment, their bodies joined, their senses fused, and their minds knew only each other. When at last their orgasms subsided, leaving a momentary peace, they collapsed still entwined, and slept.

*****

"Professional review?" Marsh asked incredulously. "But why?"

Scully shrugged, straightening her skirt, checking her make-up one last time. Her eyes were hard chips of flint. "There doesn't have to be a why. Simply an order. They asked for Mulder and I to be there this morning."

Marsh pulled on her grey flannel trousers, tucked in the silk shirt, stepped into her loafers. She clipped the beeper to her belt.

Scully smiled fondly, her face softening for a brief instant. "That's mine, darling."

Marsh stared at her uncomprehendingly for a moment, then pulled off the pager as if it were on fire. "You should stick this up someone's ass," she grumbled. "How can they possibly be calling you up over this? Didn't you and Mulder find the goddamned bomb?"

"Mulder actually found it. Sheer luck. And we were in the wrong building."

"Which probably saved dozens of lives," Marsh commented sourly while rummaging on the nightstand for her own beeper.

Scully took a deep breath. "I have a bad feeling about this, Marsh."

Marsh stopped what she was doing and gave her lover her full attention. "What do you mean?"

"Mulder and I have been skating on the edge of disaster for years. With the x-files gone, and now this, they may push to reassign us."

Marsh sat on the bed. She regarded the composed, regal-appearing woman across the room from her intently. "And?"

"They could send me anywhere."

Marsh didn't hesitate. "I'll go anywhere you go."

Scully walked to her, smiling softly. "Darling mine -- you are Chief of Trauma at Memorial, or have you forgotten that?" She ran a hand through Marsh's thick hair, already unruly despite Marsh's careful attempts to tame the persistent waves with the dryer. "You can't just leave."

Marsh leaned forward, resting her face gently against Dana's belly, her arms lightly encircling her waist. She sighed, thinking she never felt better than when she was close to her. "I can find another job. I need to be with you."

Scully pressed a little closer, her hand stroking the back of Marsh's neck. *I can find another job, too*

Part Three

Day 4

Forty-eight hours later, after a near disastrous unauthorized autopsy and a delightful romp through the Texas countryside with Mulder, Scully walked down the hall toward AD Skinner. He looked impatient. She didn't blame him -- she was twenty minutes late. She had on the same clothes she'd been wearing for two days now. She was tired, sore and frustrated. Whatever they had found out there in Texas, it was not going to help her with the review hearing. The second in as many days. She needed tangible evidence to support the strange findings from her cursory examination of the corpse sequestered at Bethesda Naval Hospital. The body of a fireman supposedly killed in the bomb blast in Texas -- a body that showed signs of overwhelming infection, but certainly not of an explosion. She needed more than the few fossilized bone fragments she had been able to salvage in Dallas that suggested viral infestation. It wasn't enough, but it was all she had.

"I'm sorry I'm late, sir," she offered as she approached.

Skinner nodded curtly and pushed open the door for her.

Thirty minutes later she walked briskly back down the hall, her face composed, but her eyes strangely empty.

*****

"Are you sure?" Marsh said quietly. They were seated side by side on the sofa in her office.

"Yes."

Marsh moved closer, reaching for Dana's hand. Dana looked drawn and tired. She'd been gone for almost two days, and looked like she hadn't slept in three. It was hardly the best time for life-altering decisions. "I meant it when I said I'd move."

Scully sighed, and leaned her head against Marsh's shoulder. "I believe you, and I appreciate it. More than you know. But there is no way that I am going to Salt Lake City, even if I would let you quit your job. There's nothing for me there -- and maybe there never has been _anywhere_ in the bureau. Maybe I've been deluding myself all these years that the work I've been doing could have any significance."

Marsh stroked her lover's cheek. "Dana -- you have probably impacted countless lives, in ways you'll never fully know, through the work you've been doing. I don't want to see you give up on it unless you're absolutely sure."

Scully knew how hard it was for Marsh when her bureau work put her in danger, and she appreciated Marsh encouraging her to stay. But she wasn't about to let Marsh sacrifice her own career to follow Scully to some dead end post that _she_ didn't even want. She pressed closer to her lover's lean form. "You know, I really missed you the last few days."

Marsjh kissed the soft hair at Dana's temple. "Mmm -- me too. Whenever you leave one of those cryptic _I'm going out of town with Mulder_ messages, I've learned not to expect you home right away." She kissed the corner of Scully's mouth. *And every time you go I worry until you return*

Scully turned her head, catching Marsh's lower lip between her teeth. She bite it gently, then pulled it into her mouth, sucking the sensitive inner surface. Marsh groaned and slid her hand inside Scully's jacket, moving up to cup the undersurface of her breast. Her thumb rode over the prominence of nipple under the sheer blouse and bra.

Scully drew away with a groan, her breasts already full with anticipation. A familiar heaviness suffused her belly and thighs. "Sweetheart -- I want you to make love to me -- immediately, right here, on this couch -- on the floor -- I don't care where."

Marsh grinned that rakish grin and lowered her head to nudge open Dana's jacket with her nose. Her goal was to capture a hard nipple in her teeth.

Scully tangled her hand in Marsh's hair, pulling her face away. "But I can't let you. I need to talk to Mulder before he hears about this from someone else. I need a looooong shower, and then I need you to come home and do things to me with your wonderful hands and your incredible mouth all night long."

"I'm off at six," Marsh said hoarsely, her hand still stroking Dana's breast. "Will you be ready for me by then?"

Scully leaned close to kiss her, her fingers slipping between Marsh's legs, pressing into the damp fabric at her crotch. She massaged the hard ridge of Marsh's clitoris, smiling against Marsh's lips as she felt her tremble. "I'm ready for you now,darling," she whispered.

"Oh fuck, Dana," Marsh gasped. "Don't do that now."

Scully smiled, pulling at the engorged shaft through the loose material. She forgot about her urgency to see Mulder as the thrill she always felt when making love to Marsh coursed through her. In her mind, she saw what her fingers fondled -- the swollen bright red tissues, the clear sheen of slick sweet cum, the pulsations visible in the sensitive tip. Knowing what she was doing to her lover excited her as much, maybe even more, than being touched herself. She felt powerful -- godlike. "You want me to stop?" she teased lightly, working the prominent thickened base in circles between her fingers.

Marsh tried to focus on Scully's face, but her vision was hazy, her breath coming in erratic gasps. "Do you -- want -- to make me come?" she murmured brokenly. Her inner thigh muscles began to spasm violently, and she involuntarily pressed her hips up into Scully's hand.

Scully's blood surged. She increased the pressure of her strokes. "Am I?" The cotton beneath her fingers was soaked.

"Oh yeah -- " Marsh grunted, her eyes closing. She pushed back against the upholstery, bracing herself for the contractions she knew were coming.

"Look at me," Scully whispered. "I want to watch you come."

"Hard," Marsh gasped, her lids flickering open.

"Do it any way," Scully ordered gently. Her breath catching in her throat, she watched Marsh's eyes darken from grey to almost black. The fine muscles along Marsh's jaw bunched and tightened. Marsh's entire body lifted a fraction off the couch as Scully brought her closer to the edge. "Oh god, you're so beautiful."

"Going -- to -- come," Marsh whimpered. Her face dissolved into waves of pleasure bordering on pain as her orgasm began.

Scully stopped breathing. It was a sight she would never tire of, more moving than anything she had ever experienced. She watched her love and passion flow through the woman she adored, a gift she meant to give but received instead, each time Marsh came for her. Her chest tightened and her eyes filled with tears. "I love you," she cried softly. "Oh god, I love you."

Marsh collapsed back into the cushions, twitching slightly under Scully's hands. "Fuck," she gasped weakly. "I'm hopeless. You touch me and I lose it."

Scully laughed, forgetting for a moment bombs, and viruses, and cornfields -- and bees. She loved, and was loved, and the world made perfect sense. "Oh my darling -- you are so easy!"

Marsh tried to look offended but all she coud manage was another grin. "Yeah, so? You complaining?"

Scully kissed her once more. "Oh no. Not at all," she whispered, her lips lingering on Marsh's. Her pulse quickened. "Not at all."

Marsh reached for her, but Scully pulled back reluctantly. "Later, my love. I _have_ to talk to Mulder."

Marsh relented graciously. "I know. Go. I'll see you at home soon."

Scully left reluctantly, knowing she was about to do the hardest thing she had ever done. They had finally won, whoever _they_ really were. Maybe_they_ were nothing more than the combined forces of evil, dividing them at last, wearing down their resistance. Or maybe just hers. Mulder would never give in, but she had. She couldn't ask Marsh to follow her from one hell hole assignment to another, and she couldn't go without her. Wouldn't want to go without her. There was no choice in the end.

*****

God, she hated to hurt him.

Mulder stared at her. "You can't quit, Scully."

She closed her eyes, knowing the words by heart. Seeing the torment in his face was only making it worse. He would never understand. That she was tired, that she wanted a normal life, that she was finally being selfish -- in the way that _he_ had been selfish all these years. She was choosing what _she _ needed, and not what someone else needed her to do, or to be. She was no longer Dana Scully the dutiful daughter, the dedicated doctor, the determined federal agent, the dependable partner. She was Dana Scully, the woman, and she chose happiness, and love, and the only person who had ever given her both.

"I have. I did. It's done."

He shook his head, stunned. There had to be a way to get through to her. God damn it! He needed her. Anger warred with caution. She couldn't leave him now! They were close -- so close! They were finally about to get the answers he had been seeking his entire life, and he needed her now more than ever. She kept him steady, she kept him on track -- Christ, she kept him sane!

"Scully--" he pleaded, the panic rising. *Don't do this to me -- please, not now--*

Determinedly she persisted, trying to make him see reason. She had been assigned as a deterrent in the first place; her skepticism held him back; they were splitting them up anyway. His anguish flooded his dark eyes, overflowing into the expressive planes of his face. Her heart ached, but she held fast. *Let me go, Mulder. I need for you to let me go*

She steeled herself to his pain. "I'm contacting the state medical board tomorrow so I can practice again --" She had more to lose than she was wiling to risk. This time there was more than herself to consider. *I have a lover now, Mulder. I have a chance for a _life_. I _have_ to choose*

He placed his hands lightly on her shoulders, wanting to keep her from slipping away, wanting the strength of his passion, his conviction, to infuse her. He wanted her to _see_.

"I don't want to do this without you. I don't know if I _can_. And if I quit now, they win..."

*Oh, Mulder -- my sweet dreamer -- don't you see they've already won?* She leaned forward, wanting so much to comfort him. If it hadn't been for Marsh, she might have given in one more time, followed him on his quest one more time, but not now. Not this time. She stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his forehead. *I am so, so sorry*

He felt her leaving him -- he felt her goodbye. It was as horrible as watching Samantha float beyond his grasp, helplessly reaching for her as she faded from sight. He pulled her closer, his fear overriding conscious thought. He stared into her eyes, willing her to stay. His heart pounding, he lowered his head.

Scully was awash with his anguish. She stood motionless in the face of it. Suddenly she was aware of his movement. *Mulder?* His lips brushed hers and she jumped. *Oh God, Mulder -- no!* She started to step back, then slapped at the back of her neck. "Ouch!"

"What is it?" Mulder asked urgently. *Jesus Christ, what was I thinking?*

Scully fought for air. "...something stung .. me." Her legs were rapidly growing numb. *This can't be. Oh God -- I can't breathe --" She stared at Mulder, then at the bee lying crushed in her hand. "Pain -- in my chest --" She began to fall. She was losing consciousness. *Oh god -- Marsh! Someone call Marsh --*

She could see his face, peering down at her. Frantic, panicked. She sensed movement, heard voices dimly, as if underwater. She was breathing, but she couldn't feel her chest move. Oh god -- what was happening. Neurotoxin of some kind -- motor paralysis, but selective. Autonomic system still functioning. What the hell was it? The bee sting? The virus??

Her eyes flickered in a limited arc. This isn't the hospital -- plane. Men in tactical gear. Not again. Oh god -- please not again.

Oh Marsh -- I am so sorry! Do you know how much I love you? Will you remember?

Part Four

Evening
Day Five

As quickly as possible Mulder hurried through the halls away from the Intensive Care Unit. The exit sign pointed left and he breathed a sigh of relief. Almost there. An arm snaked out and dragged him into a small alcove by a deserted nurses station. Strong hands pinned his back to the counter. For an instant he thought he was looking in a mirror. Wild smoky eyes, ringed with dark circles, burned in the pale stone-like features. He sensed the taut nerves about to snap.

"Let me go, Marsh," he said urgently, but he made no move to take her hands away. He sensed her anguish, knew her fear.

"What happened, Mulder?" she rasped, shaking him frantically. "Where the hell is she!"

"I don't know."

Her eyes rolled for a second and he thought she was going to collapse. A terrible moan started somewhere deep in her chest, an animal sound, a howl of vast emptiness. The hands on his arms clenched, twisting painfully in the fabric of Byer's shirt. He thought he could see her body begin to crumble, breaking apart like a jigsaw puzzle stood on end.

"I'll find her!" he vowed, his voice certain, strong. "I'll bring her back, Marsh, I promise."

She stumbled on the edge of darkness, barely able to hear his voice. She couldn't stand the pain, so much worse than before, so deep inside her, ripping at the fabric of her sanity. She had to let go -- of her feelings, of her mind -- she had to go far away from the memory of Dana's touch, her smell, her voice in the night -- She began to drift -- her thoughts receded into nothingness. Peace was so close --

Mulder watched her giving up -- sliding into catatonia. "Dana loves you, Marsh. Dana needs you, Marsh." He grabbed her face hard, felt her flinch. Good, she was still with him. "Dana needs you to be here when she gets back. Marsh -- Marsh!"

She shivered, shook her head. Her eyes began to focus. They were pools of endless pain. "Find her, Mulder. Please."

He nodded. She dropped her hands, and in the next instant, he was gone.

*****

Day Six

They stared at one another silently for hours. He got up and paced. He wished she would say something -- curse at him, at the faceless men and nameless enemies, at the fates -- someone, anything. He drank coffee; she shook her head _no_. He picked at a cardboard replica of a ham sandwich from the vending machine; she waved a second one away. He snatched up the phone at the first hint of a ring; her body coiled and tensed each time. Each time he replaced it gently, his eyes apologizing, hers grew dimmer.

Twenty-two hours. Nothing.

How could that be? How could the greatest investigative operation in the world, with contacts in every country on every continent, not be able to find one man and one woman?

His starched white shirt wilted, grew circles of sweat under the arms. Her body slowly turned to stone as the hope bled from her like a mortal wound.

He searched desperately for some words, a phrase, to keep her alive. The platitudes died on his lips. It was so much worse than before, this disintegration. At least then he had not had to bear witness in helpless impotence.

The phone rang. She didn't even look up.

He listened, then covered the receiver and spoke. "We've located Mulder. He's in Antarctica."

Marsh stirred, met his flat hard gaze with feverish eyes. "We'll need thermal resuscitation units -- two of them. Portable immersion tanks. Full emergency operating facilities on the transport--"

Skinner interrupted her, holding out the phone. "Tell them yourself -- then let's go get them."

*****

Day Eight

She was on fire. Her face, her hands, her skin -- raw burning flames licked at them. She moaned, tried to draw away. Something cool, soft, soothing, tempered the inferno. A quiet murmuring and a gentle touch calmed her. She sighed and slept again.

Special Agent Dana Scully opened her eyes slowly, giving herself time to adjust to the dim room light that seemed so bright after hours of unconsciousness. She tried to surreptitiously survey her surroundings. Hospital bed, hospital smells -- no restraints. That much was good. An IV -- not so good. Were they drugging her? No -- thoughts too clear. She flexed each hand, tensed each leg -- motor function intact. Another plus.

She closed her eyes -- trying to reconstruct the events leading up to this strange awakening. Images floated in her mind's eye like fragments of a long ago dream. Floating and falling and climbing. An endless stretch of blinding whiteness -- a shadow coursing overhead. Mulder beside her, telling her to look --_look_. She was so very cold -- so very tired. She couldn't look anymore. So tired -- Another face -- bending over her, holding her, calling her name -- a face she knew. Fierce and strong. Beautiful in its terrible anger -- calling her back, again and again--like the first time. Out of the chaos -- into the light.

Scully opened her eyes, knowing where she was, knowing who was there. "Marsh?"

"Here, love," Marsh answered, sitting forward in the chair next to the bed. She took the small pale hand, brought it to her lips. "I'm right here."

Scully smiled, wincing slightly as the movement stretched the frostbitten skin on her cheek. "Haven't we done this scene before?"

"Mmm -- only this time I get to take you home with me." Marsh edged nearer the bed. "Soon."

Scully surveyed her lover anxiously. She was drawn and thin. "When's the last time you ate? Or slept?"

"I'm fine," Marsh said firmly. *Now that you're better*

"This won't happen again, Marsh, I promise." Scully squeezed Marsh's fingers to emphasize her words. *I'll never do this to you again*

Marsh shook her head. "We don't have to talk about this now."

"I mean it. I'm done. That's what I was trying to tell Mulder -- oh god! Mulder! is he--"

"He's fine," Marsh assured her quickly. "In fact he was released yesterday."

Scully relaxed visibly. "Thank god -- How did you find me?"

Marsh laughed faintly. "If I can't find you, I just need to follow Mulder."

"I'm sorry--" Scully began.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" Marsh sighed. "Even with the fastest supersonic transport known to our great military, it's still a long way to the South Pole. Skinner and I had a long time to talk."

Scully waited.

"He told me everything he knew, and some he was guessing at. About you, and Mulder, and the X-files. About Samantha, and a strange group of shadow men whose power appears to extend everywhere. And some things about events that have no earthly explanation."

"Now you know why I want to leave. It's not fair to you," Scully whispered. "And I love you so much."

Marsh leaned forward, and kissed her tenderly, with barely restrained passion. " I love _you_, Dana. And that's why I want you to stay."

An eyebrow arched. A good sign. "Come again?"

"You're in this, Dana. Wherever it goes. However deep it penetrates. And you're safer working to uncover it, expose them, stop them -- than you would be if you walked away. Because I don't think they'd _let_ you walk away."

"It won't be easy -- " Scully warned. *And I can't watch it tear you apart*

"I know that. But I'd rather deal with the enemy we know -- and --" she smiled grimly. "I trust you with Mulder."

Scully's mind flickered to the strange moment in the hallway outside Mulder's apartment. The fleeting touch of his lips to hers. She felt his need, and his love. She felt their connection, deeper than shared experiences or ideals. She had no need to think of what might have been, in another lifetime. She looked at the woman she loved with all her being. "You _can_ trust me with him," she said quietly.

"I'll be fine," Marsh said quietly, drawing Dana's fingers to her lips once again. She kissed each finger tip, brushing her lips gently over the still healing areas of frostbite. "I know you're not Karen. And I know you won't leave me."

"Oh god, no. Never."

*****

Day Eleven

Marsh sat at the bar in the nearly deserted room, nursing a scotch and waiting for her lover. It was early by lesbian nightlife standards, only eight pm, but it had been a long day for Dana. She had another session with the Office of Professional Review that afternoon. And then Marsh knew she was meeting Mulder. To tell him she was staying. To tell him she was going to fight. To tell him she wanted to beat whatever forces were engineering the virus that had infected her.

Marsh sighed and sipped the rough-edged liquid fire. She was resigned to it. Loving Dana meant accepting her past, and her future, and the dark forces that shadowed her. Ultimately she trusted to Dana's skill and determination, and to Mulder's presence by her side. Loving Dana meant accepting him, too.

She signaled for a refill and listened to the old love song someone had played on the jukebox.

_I'll always remember that magic moment
When I held you close to me
Cause when we move together I know forever
You're all I'll ever need

Could I have this dance for the rest of my life
Would you be my partner every night?
When we're together it feels so right
Could I have this dance for the rest of my life?_

Marsh turned slowly on the seat and glanced across the room to the jukebox. A stunning redhead leaned against it, her arms crossed, one hip tilted seductively, a soft smile lifting the corners of her full red lips. When Marsh's gaze met hers, she lifted an elegantly arched eyebrow in silent question.

In response Marsh eased off the seat and began to cross the small dance floor. Scully moved too, her blue eyes fixed on Marsh's. When they met in the middle, Scully raised her arms and wrapped them around her taller lover's neck, pressing her face into the soft warmth below Marsh's jaw. She breathed in her scent, opened her mouth to her skin.

Marsh slid her hands down Dana's sides to her hips, and then around to the dip just above her buttocks. She pulled her close, fitting the angles and planes of her frame to Dana's curves. She closed her eyes and rested her cheek against the silken hair.

When they moved to the music, two bodies -- two hearts --in perfect harmony, it was impossible to tell who led.

End

Genesis VIII: Do Not Go Gentle
by Radclyffe
EMAIL ADDRESS: radclyffe@radfic.com
SERIES RATING: NC-17; This story depicts graphic sexual encounters between same-sex consenting adults.
SPOILERS: All eps since The Red and the Black
KEYWORDS: Scully/Other(female);Scully/Slash
DISCLAIMERS: The characters of Scully, Mulder, Skinner and others/events introduced on the X-Files are the sole property of Chris Carter etc, and are used here without permission for entertainment, not for profit.
Comments welcome.
Author's note: The entire Genesis series can be found at my website:
http://www.radfic.com/ or http://www.angelfire.com/nf/radclyffe/
SUMMARY: A post-Tithonus episode, where Scully's life hangs in the balance, and those who love her face the reality of life without her.

"Do not go gentle into that good night...
Rage, rage against the dying of the light"*

Memorial Hospital
Washington, DC

"Clamp the chest tube and watch it for an hour to make sure there's no air leak. Then get an upright chest x-ray in six hours. If there's no evidence of pneumothorax, and the lung is fully inflated, go ahead and pull it."

Marsh moved to the next bed in the intensive care unit, followed by residents, trauma fellows, and nurses. She picked up the patient's chart and began to peruse the vital signs. Suddenly, her shoulders stiffened and she carefully replaced the chart on top of the bedside table. She turned slowly and looked across the room. Mulder was standing just inside the double swinging doors. Wordlessly, she threaded her way through the surrounding staff members and went to face him. "Is she alive?"

Mulder didn't even stop to wonder how she knew. Somehow, he understood. "Yes, but it's bad."

Her pupils flickered and a faint shudder rippled through her body. A cold hand squeezed her heart. "Let's go up to the heliport. We'll use that to get to my plane."

When they arrived in the downtown Manhattan hospital, Scully was already in the operating room. Marsh simply displayed her FBI credentials and asked where the surgeon's locker room was. Ten minutes later she was standing beside the operating table looking down into Scully's open chest. The operating surgeon didn't even bother to look up.

"You the FBI doc?"

"Yes," Marsh replied calmly. *and her lover*

"You want to scrub in? It's a great case. The bullet went between the sixth and seventh ribs, through the lower lobe of the left lung, glanced off the descending aorta, and lodged in the posterior paraspinus muscles. It's amazing she didn't bleed to death - but then again, she almost did."

A bright geyser of arterial blood spurted up onto the surgeon's mask. "Shit -- she still might."

Marsh watched the surgeon's hands moving inside Dana's chest. Gently lifting the lung out of the way, applying fine clamps to bleeding vessels, cutting away the blast-damaged tissues. "You seem to have things under control." She paused for a moment. "It looks like you might have of bleeder up there behind the hilum," she said politely. Very calmly. The calm that comes from holding back terror with both hands.

The surgeon grunted softly and advanced the suction cannula deeper into the chest cavity, removing old clots and fresh blood from around the root of the lung. "Oh yeah, I see it now. I've been wondering where that damn oozing was coming from. Thanks."

Marsh studied the wound. The aorta was already controlled with clamps above and below the area of the puncture site. The surgeon was now placing a non-crushing clamp around the edges of the bullet wound in the lung. Fortunately, the projectile had missed the left ventricle and the heart was beating steadily. Dana's heart.

Dana's heart.

For the first time in hours, Marsh was aware of her own body. Her legs were trembling faintly, and her hands were shaking despite her clenched fists. For an instant, her vision blurred. That had never happened in the operating room. This was her arena. This was where she did battle, and had never been defeated. In this place, nothing was permitted to penetrate her consciousness, other than the body before her and the instruments in her hands. The world outside the four walls of the operating room receded into nothingness. Time stopped. Personal worries - personal pain - personal fears, disappeared. In this theater, at this table, she was invincible.

But not now. She was lost.

"I'll be in the lounge," she murmured. "If something changes, if you start to lose her --" She couldn't continue, she couldn't even put words to the deepest fear in her life.

How exactly would she continue? What would be the point? Was there something that she hadn't already accomplished that she would possibly care to live for? She had achieved every goal she had ever desired -- she had honed her skills to the highest level, she had practiced her profession with integrity and honor, and she had paid her dues to her country. She had even finally forgiven herself for Karen and made her own personal peace. For what other reason could she possibly get up in the morning other than to love this woman? How would she find a reason? Where would she find the desire? To envision a future without Dana was as impossible for Marsh as to envision not loving her. She supposed she could continue, perhaps even would continue, but the emptiness within would never abate. And if the pain that accompanied that desolation did not lessen, she would not survive.

She looked once more into the open thorax of her lover, and willed the fragile tissues to heal. Then she slowly turned and softly left the room.

****

Mulder found her leaning against the window, staring out into the night. It had been three hours since Dana was taken into the operating room. He had spent most of that time pacing in front of the double doors with the large red sign warning him not to enter. Beyond those doors was a world he could not experience. He was not allowed to see, he was not allowed to touch, he was not allowed to act; there was nothing he could do. He experienced a helplessness he had not known since those frozen moments when he watched Samantha drift away. It was hard enough accepting his own impotence. It was almost more than he could bear to watch Marsh's agony.

He couldn't tell her it would be all right, because he didn't know that was true. He couldn't tell her that she would survive the loss, because he couldn't imagine how. To him, the thought of losing Scully was a pain that struck so deep, he was choking on it. What must it be like for Marsh, to lose someone she had touched and loved and admitted into her body. He didn't know. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. Perhaps that was why there was no one for him like Marsh.

They had exchanged few words when Marsh piloted them from Memorial's rooftop to the air strip where her plane awaited them. When they lifted off, Mulder tried to say he was sorry.

"I was too late. I tried to warn her --"

Marsh stared straight ahead into the night sky. It was perfectly clear, and the horizon was littered with twinkling stars. "I believe you."

"She was working with a guy she didn't know. They split us up--"

"I know."

Mulder shifted in the seat, wanting so much to comfort her, and not knowing the first thing to say. "She's strong, Marsh."

"She's flesh and blood, Mulder. You have no idea how fragile the body is. It betrays our spirits. We can struggle to overcome our weaknesses, but in the end we are mortal. She's strong; she's the strongest person I've ever known. But her strength is in her heart, and in her will. Her body is as vulnerable as a petal in a rain storm. It can be broken; it can be destroyed."

"I've seen her win before," Mulder persisted, needing her to believe as much as he needed to. "I've seen her dying, and I've seen her fight it. I've seen her come back when no one should have."

"How many times, Mulder? How many times can she do it?"

Mulder took a deep breath, and spoke from his heart. "She'll do it for you, Marsh. She'll do it because she loves you, and because she needs you, and because she wants to be with you more than anything in the world. She's never had quite that reason before, and no matter what has happened to her, I believe that she'll live for you."

Marsh's hands tightened on the rudder, and she willed her arms not tremble. *Please God, let that be true. Let that be true, and I swear, I will love her with every breath, every moment - for the rest of my life*

*****

They gave them as much privacy as possible. At one end of the long rectangle which comprised the intensive care unit, there was a single isolation room. Granted, it had a large window which allowed the nurses and other personnel passing by to see the patient from almost anywhere in the room, but at least they were separated from the never-ending noise, bright lights, and sounds of the barely living. The overhead fluorescents had been turned off, and most of the illumination came from the glow of the many monitors. The endotracheal tube which had exited from between Dana's lips, connected by a long flexible tube to the portable ventilator, had been removed shortly after surgery. Intravenous bags ran nutrient fluid into her veins, and chest tubes and catheters removed the ravages of trauma and injury. If anyone found it odd that the tall trauma surgeon from Washington D.C. sat silently by the bedside, both hands clasped around the patient's motionless fingers, no one had time to comment on it.

Touch and go, they had said. She should have been dead at the scene, but for some reason she hung on. Morning was a lifetime away.

Marsh was unaware of conscious thought. Her mind registered the flickering of dials in the background, the steady rhythmic bleeping of the electrocardiogram machine, and the comforting rise and fall of the compression devices on Dana's extremities. She watched Dana's eyelids flicker slightly as her body struggled. If she just looked at her face she could almost forget what was happening.

*She's so beautiful when she's sleeping. But she's not sleeping, is she? She might be though - her face is flawless, without that little crease that forms between her eyebrows when she's thinking, or angry. She's not making those soft little murmurs that she usually makes when she sleeps, but she seems very peaceful. I wonder if that's good? Is she so peaceful because she can see a better place than here? Is she so still, so quiet, because she doesn't need to fight anymore? Is this what my patients are like just before they die?*

Marsh saw death every day. She had lived with it; she had held it in her hands; she had watched life slipping through her fingers. She had watched in agony as a lover died in her arms, but she had never seen death come so gently, so quietly, so respectfully. She wanted to shout, to make her stay. She wanted to grasp her fragile shoulders and shake her until the breath raged through her lungs, and blood pounded through her body. She wanted to scream, "Don't leave me. I can't live without you." But she did not. Because if this is how death came, it did not seem to be the enemy. And if Dana chose to go this way, to go quietly in the night, she would not deny her that choice.

She hadn't realized she had slipped to her knees by the bedside, her forehead pressed against Dana's abdomen. With one arm, she reached around Dana's still form to hold her close. She hadn't meant to beg, she meant to say goodbye, but in the end, she was no hero. *I love you with all my heart. I cannot imagine spending one day without you. I need you more than I need breath in my body. Please, Dana please --if you can hear me, please stay. I need you so much*

It might have been minutes, it could have been hours. Marsh felt a soft hand brush her cheek. She turned her face, her eyes bruised, her skin salty with long ago tears. Dana watched her with clear blue eyes.

"Are you really here?" Marsh whispered.

The faintest of smiles twitched at Scully's lips. "Yes, darling. And I intend to stay."

"That would be good," Marsh managed as she struggled to contain fresh tears. "That would be so very good."

Scully squeezed her hand, then closed her eyes, and returned to the battlefield yet again.

End

*Verse by Dylan Thomas

Genesis IX: Of Saints and Sinners
by Radclyffe
EMAIL ADDRESS: radclyffe@radfic.com
SERIES RATING: NC-17; This story depicts graphic sexual encounters between same-sex consenting adults.
SPOILERS: All eps since The Red and the Black
KEYWORDS: Scully/Other(female);Scully/Slash
DISCLAIMERS: The characters of Scully, Mulder, Skinner and others/events introduced on the X-Files are the sole property of Chris Carter etc, and are used here without permission for entertainment, not for profit.
Comments welcome.
Author's note: The entire Genesis series can be found at my website:
http://www.radfic.com/ or http://www.angelfire.com/nf/radclyffe/
SUMMARY: Scully, Mulder and Marsh wrestle with their personal demons in the aftermath of Donnie Pfaster's attack.

Washington, DC
5:15am

"Alarm," Scully muttered.

"Mmppph," Marsh replied, and rolled over toward her, wrapping one arm around her waist, pressing close along the curve of her back.

The insistent buzz continued, and Scully slapped the button down on the bedside clock. "Marsh," she murmured, automatically drawing Marsh's hand up to her breast. "You have to get up."

"That's not the way to get me out of bed," Marsh whispered against Scully's ear, brushing her fingers down Scully's belly. She pushed her hips a little tighter against Scully's firm butt and growled softly.

"You have Grand Rounds this morning," Scully reminded her, her body suddenly much more awake. She shifted onto her back, letting her legs part under Marsh's hand. How many times had they awakened this way, and each time still so new? She turned her face to kiss the soft spot under Marsh's collarbone.

"I know," Marsh answered softly, leaning up on one elbow. Her explorations continued southward. "But surgeons shower fast." She bent her head, caught Scully's lower lip gently between her teeth, sucked lightly. She sighed as Scully's tongue teased along her own. "And I want you," she managed between lazy morning kisses.

"Mmm," Scully responded, lifting her hips encouragingly. Her mind was just reaching awareness, but her body was already humming. "What else can you do quickly?"

Marsh laughed quietly. "Some things should never be rushed."

Scully moved Marsh's fingers directly onto the spot where she needed them most. "Some things won't wait." She caught her breath as her nerve endings twitched. *God, I'm always so ready in the morning*

"Ah, but this will have to last all day," Marsh teased, her lips caressing the underside of Scully's jaw as she brushed feather-light fingertips over her throbbing hard clit.

"Uhnnn," Scully answered, pressing her hand down over Marsh's, urging her with quick firm movements. "So make it, ohh, good."

Their fingers intertwined, and together, they slipped over slick smooth ridges and between warm, swollen folds. Then Scully led Marsh inward, moaning as Marsh filled her.

"God, that's nice," Marsh breathed hoarsely against Scully's neck.

"God -- has -- oh --nothingtodo -- uh --withit."

"Mmmm, maybe," Marsh murmured, eyes closed, stroking gently, almost reverently. *But I feel so -- blessed*

"Thumb," Scully gasped. "Touch me."

Laughing, Marsh complied, starting a rhythm that matched the throbbing around her fingers. Back and forth she pressed, lost in the surging undulations of Scully's body. Soft moans and small startled cries mingled in an indescribable litany of love as Marsh carried Scully closer. Their hearts quickened together, racing with the flow of blood and rush of breath.

At the end, Marsh stilled, every sense exquisitely alive, attuned to every tremor that surged through Scully's body, memorizing every sound torn from her throat. *A miracle. Each and every time*

"Give me a minute," Scully finally gasped, turning to face Marsh. "I don't want you suffering all day."

Marsh raised her head, squinted at the clock. 5:34.

"Gotta go."

Scully tightened her grip. "I love you." Awake now, and very serious. *I hate it when you go*

Marsh kissed her, the teasing touch replaced by a sudden possessiveness. Hard, demanding for an instant. "I love you, too. More than I can say."

"You just did," Scully said, knowing it with more certainty than anything in her life. She kissed her again, then pushed her away gently. "Go. Or I won't let you."

"Go back to sleep," Marsh said as she slipped from the bed. "I'll shower at work."

And then she was gone, and Scully went back to sleep.

Until she was awakened at 6:06am.

*****

38 hours later

Through the open door, Mulder saw the Porsche careening up to the curb. He shouldered through the crowd of investigators, technicians, and crime scene personnel to intercept Marsh on the front steps. She was still in scrubs, without a coat, despite the frigid temperatures. She looked frantic.

"Where is she, Mulder?" Marsh demanded, her voice brittle and tight. "Is she hurt?"

Mulder extended one arm tentatively to restrain her, but Marsh brushed it off impatiently. Her eyes were blazing, a dangerous wildness swirling in their depths. "Just tell me."

"In the bedroom. She's fine," he said calmly. More calmly than he felt. He had been scared down to his shoes. First that he wouldn't get to Scully in time, and then when he did - terrified by what he found. And by what he had witnessed.

"She's not fine, Mulder. How could she be? Let me get by."

She stared at him, anger and something infinitely more frightening flickering across her face. Something menacing. He remembered the stories about Marsh's breakdown when Karen Summers had died. He wondered fleetingly if she still carried a gun. "Marsh --," he tried again. "She's -- she took a beating -- it was ugly."

"And where were you, Mulder?" she grated through clenched teeth, her hands fisted at her sides, white with strain. "Where the fuck were you?" She wanted to hurt something, someone. She swallowed hard, burying her fury, because this was not what Dana needed.

Before he could reply, Marsh pushed her way past the strangers milling about, stepping over the scattered pieces of overturned furniture without really taking in the ruin. She paused only long enough to close what was left of the shattered bedroom door. Then she was across the room, and gathering Scully into her arms.

"How are you?" Marsh whispered softly, holding the smaller woman gently but completely within the circle of her arms. Dana trembled against her, and Marsh's heart lurched. "Where are you hurt?" Her voice was soothing, while inside, she was raging.

For a long moment, Scully did not speak. She rested her head against Marsh's chest and listened to the steady, comforting, solid sound of her heartbeat. She pressed as close as she could, trying desperately to dispel the cold creeping through her body. At length she spoke. "I'm banged up a little bit. Nothing too serious."

Marsh leaned back enough to look down into Scully's face. "Your upper lip is split. It's going to take a couple of stitches."

There was a strange emptiness in Dana's normally vibrant gaze. Marsh might have thought it was pain, if she weren't so familiar with the color of pain in Dana's eyes. She had seen it often enough. This was something totally different, and terrifying. *Oh jesus, what did he do to you?*

"Can you tell me what happened?" Marsh tried again. *Let me help you. God, let me do something*

Scully shook her head. "Not now. I can't -- "

Marsh nodded, drawing her near, pressing her lips to the pale skin of Scully's forehead. "I understand. Can you at least come with me to the hospital so I can repair these lacerations?"

Scully stepped back and surveyed the remains of her bedroom. There was blood on the floor, streaks of it congealing to black clumps amidst shards of glass. Her blood, and - his. Bits of mirror reflected the scene in a thousand fractured angles. She struggled with a disorienting sense of unreality, knowing that all too soon it would dissolve into horrible truth. She watched herself pulling the trigger, saw the blood spray, and the body recoiling from the power of the impact. Her power -- her pain and loathing and mind-numbing fury. Had she been a disciple of good or the instrument of evil? Or had she merely sinned. Thou shalt not kill. Thou shalt not kill. Thou shalt --

"Dana?" Marsh asked quietly.

Scully looked at her blankly. There would be questions, many of them, from both the bureau and the local police. And then what would she do? She wasn't sure how she was going to answer them; she wasn't sure what she thought herself. "Let's go now," Scully said hollowly. "I need to get away from here."

There was a soft knock at the door, and Mulder's tentative voice, "Can I come in?"

Scully cleared her throat. "Come in Mulder, the door's open." She laughed without humor. "Well actually, the door's about to fall off."

Mulder entered cautiously, then looked from one to the other. Scully seemed shell-shocked, and Marsh looked ready to hit someone. Most likely him. Maybe he deserved it. He hadn't really listened when Scully tried to tell him what was happening. He didn't believe, at least not in the forces that she was talking about. Evil? Oh yes, he believed in that. And that its name was not Satan, but man. And there was something else he believed in. He believed in her.

He took a breath. He couldn't change what had happened, but it wasn't over yet. There was no way he was going to let this destroy her. "They want us this afternoon, Scully, first at the station, then at the bureau."

Marsh stiffened. "She's injured, and I'm taking her to the hospital. I'll let you know when she's ready to be questioned." She couldn't believe it. Hadn't they done enough to her -- all of them? The bureau, expecting her to face these monsters again and again. The perpetrators --the insane and the profane -- and even the victims; all had claimed a piece of Dana's soul. When would it stop?

Scully put her hand on Marsh's arm, and squeezed lightly. "I'll be there, Mulder."

"Scully," he said intently. "It was right."

She didn't answer.

He watched them walk away, his partner encircled by Marsh's protective embrace. He knew what he was going to say when asked, without the slightest bit of uncertainty or remorse. He only hoped that Scully would find a way to do the same.

*****

"It wasn't Mulder's fault."

"Uh huh," Marsh responded automatically. She picked up the syringe of lidocaine, and said, "Hold still. This is going to sting."

Marsh slid the fine steel needle into the tender tissues of Scully's upper lip, injecting the local anesthesia. This she could do -- she could mend the tears, if not the deeper wounds. She didn't know how to begin to tend to her heart.

As soon as she could talk, Scully continued, "I knew something was wrong. I could feel it. From the very beginning, I felt like someone was trying to tell me something. But then I stopped listening." She blinked away tears. *Or maybe I just stopped believing*

Marsh poised with the suture in her hand. *Let her talk. It's what she needs* She set the instruments aside. "Who was trying to tell you something?"

"I thought at first it was God," Scully said very quietly. And then she told her the rest, about the music, and the strange minister who knew things about her he should not know, and the man who seemed too monstrous to be human. About hunting him, and being hunted by him. Of what he did to her, and finally, of what she had done to him.

Marsh had pulled up a stool, and sat beside the narrow metal table upon which Scully lay. She placed her hand gently in Scully's hair, her thumb stroking the soft wisps of red and gold along Scully's temple. "And now what you do think?"

"I don't have to think anything. I know," Scully said flatly. "I killed him. Mulder had his gun on him, had him subdued, and I executed him."

Scully looked at Marsh with eyes so wounded, so filled with torment, that Marsh wanted to lash out at everyone or anything that ever had, or ever would, harm her. Marsh loved her to the point of helplessness, and knew in that instant her utter powerlessness to protect her. Her impotence was choking her. She struggled to keep her voice even.

"Is there going to be a problem this afternoon?"

Scully shook her head. "Formality only. Everyone suspects something, but Mulder will back me."

Marsh drew closer. "And that's it?"

"Technically, yes," Scully murmured. "But I'll always know."

Marsh heard the anguish in her voice. "Maybe there are forces at work here you aren't meant to understand."

Scully turned her head, meeting Marsh's intense gaze. *You're always here for me, aren't you?* For an instant she was comforted, and then she was standing in the living room again, cold steel in her hand. "Divine Providence?" she said bitterly. "I have killed, when I was forced to, but this - this was something different. I had a choice."

"Oh love," Marsh whispered. "Try to forgive yourself. You did what any one of us would have done. He was evil, in the worst ways that a human being can be. He destroyed the lives of other human beings. Not just once, but many times, and he never would have stopped. Never. He threatened you in unimaginable ways, and what you did was justified. I can't believe that anyone, human or divine, would find you guilty."

Scully smiled faintly, because she knew that Marsh loved her. Just as Mulder did. Both of them were trying to convince her that she had not sinned. There were rationalizations, and explanations, and perhaps even justifications, but one phrase kept running through her mind.

Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord

They leaned close together, bodies touching, each with their separate pain. Marshall Black, wanting so desperately to provide Dana peace, fearing she could not. Special Agent Dana Scully, wishing she could pray, knowing she would not.

"I love you, Dana," Marsh whispered, having only that to offer.

Scully absorbed the words, knew the truth of it, and felt the beginnings of absolution.

*****

End

Genesis X: Ghosts
by Radclyffe
EMAIL ADDRESS: radclyffe@radfic.com
SERIES RATING: NC-17; This story depicts graphic sexual encounters between same-sex consenting adults.
SPOILERS: All eps since The Red and the Black
KEYWORDS: Scully/Other(female);Scully/Slash
DISCLAIMERS: The characters of Scully, Mulder, Skinner and others/events introduced on the X-Files are the sole property of Chris Carter etc, and are used here without permission for entertainment, not for profit.
Comments welcome.
Author's note: The entire Genesis series can be found at my website:
http://www.radfic.com/ or http://www.angelfire.com/nf/radclyffe/
SUMMARY: Scully struggles with a painful reminder of her past. A post-ep (All Things) vignette

Tuesday, Washington D.C.

Mulder fumbled the phone to his ear. "Mulder--" he mumbled groggily.

"It's Marsh, Mulder. Is she there?" Her voice was even and calm, betraying none of her anxiety. She glanced again at the digital clock on the dresser. 5:25 AM

Mulder rolled off the bed and padded to the doorway, glancing across the living room to the sofa where she had fallen asleep. The handmade wool blanket with which he had covered her was neatly folded on the arm of the couch. He looked the other way across his bedroom to the bathroom. The door was pulled nearly closed, and no light shown beyond it. He returned to the bed, sitting heavily on the side. Wearily he brushed one hand through his hair as he picked up the receiver. He continued to rub his face, trying to wake up, wondering if he should make some excuse. But it was not his place to offer explanations.

"No," was all he finally said.

Marsh knew from the prolonged silence that he had been searching the apartment. Her voice was flat, no trace of recrimination. "You know what time she left?"

Mulder sighed. "No idea. She was here around midnight, and I left her asleep on the sofa." He didn't see any reason to tell her that sometime in the night, Scully had lain down beside him in the dark. He had been awake, but had said nothing. When she reached for his hand, he had slipped his fingers between hers. He hadn't heard her leave.

It was Marsh's turn for silence. She respected Dana's friendship with Mulder, even though she admitted, if only to herself, that occasionally she was jealous of it. There were things that he shared with her lover that she could not. The two of them faced danger, and far too often - death, together. That produced a kind of bond that approached the intimacy of lovers, and a kind of interdependence that often out-lasted love. She also respected her lover's privacy. She trusted Dana to tell her what she could, when she was ready.

Nevertheless, she was worried, and couldn't help but ask, "Is she all right, Mulder? It's not like her not to leave a message."

Mulder knew what that question cost her. He thought for a second, weighing his loyalty to Scully, not wanting to betray her confidences, but sympathizing with Marsh's concern. "I think she's okay," he said at length. "I think she was just lonely."

It hurt Marsh to think that Dana had needed someone, and she was not there. She took a deep breath, and said, "Thanks, Mulder. And thanks for being there for her."

Mulder carefully hung up the receiver, and whispered "That's okay. I love her, too."

*****

6:15 AM

When Scully came into the apartment, she headed straight to the bedroom. By the time she reached the doorway, she had shed both shoes, had pulled off her rumpled sweater, and was about to push her skirt down and kick it into a corner when she stopped, one hand balanced on the doorway, and stared in surprise at the figure stretched out on top of the bed. "What are you doing here? I didn't expect you until tomorrow."

Marsh smiled faintly, a slight flickering at the corner of her mouth. She had shed her travel clothes and showered quickly after her call to Mulder. She was wearing the blue silk robe that Scully had gotten her. She tried to keep her tone light, but she could see the shadows under Dana's eyes from across the room, and she had to struggle not to question her.

"I had all I could take of the meeting by last night. If I had to listen to one more person talk about the economic aspects of trauma care I was going to scream. I caught the red eye home."

Unable to wait any longer, Marsh crossed the room and slipped her arms around Scully's waist. "Plus, I missed you and I didn't want to stay away another night." To her surprise, in a rare show of vulnerability, Dana pressed herself tightly against her, her arms encircling her in a near desperate embrace.

"Hey," Marsh whispered, resting her cheek against the soft reddish gold hair. "What's going on?"

Scully closed her eyes tightly, contenting herself just to listen to the slow steady beat of Marsh's heart. It always took Marsh coming home for her to realize how very deeply she missed her when she was gone. She usually buried herself in work, and tried not to think about how impossible it was to sleep without her, how difficult to start the day without hearing her voice. This time, it had been even worse. For three days she had been catapulted into the past, forced to confront choices she had made, some of which she regretted deeply, and the consequences that had followed. Some things she hadn't been proud of, and some feelings she thought she had laid to rest, had returned to haunt her. She leaned back, tilting her head to study her lover. Marsh's gray eyes were tender, the expression on her face accepting, and the strength of her embrace comforting. She felt safe, and loved. She took Marsh's hand and said, "Come lie down with me."

They lay face to face, arms encircling one another, hands softly stroking.

"I was doing an autopsy for Mulder on Saturday, when I accidentally came across the chart of a man I once knew," Scully began. Seeing his name had brought back a flood of emotion, memories of a time in her life when she had been uncertain and confused. She was following the prescribed path, trying to please her parents, fulfilling their desires and what she had thought were her own dreams. But she had found herself halfway through medical school feeling unfulfilled and desperate. And then Daniel had come to answer her questions. He had been her teacher, her mentor, and briefly, her lover. But unlike what she had found with Marsh, his love had not brought peace. She didn't know how to describe what she felt when she saw him again. Regret, a lingering tenderness, a reflection of her long ago pain.

Marsh felt her uncertainty, and brushed her long surgeon's fingers through the wisps of hair lying across Dana's face. She moved closer still until their bodies touched along their entirety. Whatever Dana needed to say, Marsh wanted her to know that she could hear it. "Tell me," she urged gently.

"We were lovers for a time," Scully said flatly. "He was married, and finally I left because I couldn't be with him knowing how much pain it was going to cause everyone. That was 12 years ago, and I didn't see him again until three days ago."

Scully studied the woman whose love had changed her life, tracing a fingertip along the dark arching eyebrows, down over the sharp elegant cheek bone, along the strong certain jaw. Marsh did not need to know these things, and Scully would die before she hurt her. Finally, she rested her fingers in the thick mane of black hair, faintly laced with gray at the temples. Tenderly, she said, "Do you know how much I love you?"

Marsh pressed her lips to Dana's forehead. "I know. It's all right to talk about him."

Scully shrugged slightly, shaking her head impatiently. "It was hard. He seemed to think that nothing had changed, despite all the years that had gone by. He looked at me and saw the infatuated, needy person I had been. I looked at him and imagined what my life would have been like if I had stayed."

She parted Marsh's robe and pulled it around the both of them, so that they lay naked together under the soft cover. She slipped her leg between Marsh's, and pressed her breasts against Marsh's chest. She kissed the soft skin below Marsh's ear, then moved her lips slowly along the curve of Marsh's jaw to her lips. She kissed her, slowly at first, savoring the wonder of warmth and softness, the excitement of heat and strength. Pausing, her throat tight, she whispered, "I can't imagine my life without you."

Marsh brought both hands to Dana's face, brushing her fingertips over the furrows in her brow, smoothing the lines around her eyes with her thumbs. She held her head gently in her palms as she kissed her forehead, her eyelids, and finally her mouth. She stroked the inner surface of Dana's lips with her tongue, indolent languorous strokes that banked the fires that were building within. One hand drifted down, tracing the curve of full breast, lingering to brush softly over the swiftly hardening nipple.

"You'll never be without me," she murmured, "because I will never stop loving you."

Suddenly, urgently, Scully wanted her. She wanted _this_ life, _this_ woman. Marsh was her present, and her future, and she wanted the past to be buried. She brought her hands to Marsh's shoulders, pushing her onto her back and rolling on top of her in one motion. She pressed her thigh between Marsh's, insistently, pinning Marsh to the bed, fanning the flames of their shared desire. This time her kisses were harder, more demanding, bruising in their intensity. Marsh held her tightly, offering herself, welcoming her, giving her shelter. Scully's hips rocked into Marsh's, her hands roamed desperately over Marsh's lean taut body, claiming her. There would be marks where her fingers clutched her.

"Oh god," Scully gasped, "I love you."

Marsh grasped Scully's hand, drawing it between her legs, urging her inward. "Take me," she gasped, "make me come for you." Even as she spoke, Marsh's hips were thrusting upward, her fingers tight on Scully's buttocks, her neck arched, her breath an erratic rasp. "Please, please, please--"

Scully straddled Marsh's thigh, clenching her legs tightly, moving hard, pressing her clitoris urgently against the smooth skin. She heard nothing but Marsh's broken sobs, felt nothing but the soft strength of Marsh's body, wanted nothing but to be inside of her, to lose herself in the warmth, and the wetness, and the glory of her. Closing her eyes, pressing her face tightly to Marsh's neck, her fingers deep inside, her palm brushing over the slick hot folds, she surrendered all her pain and all her uncertainty on the indestructible alter of their passion.

When they came, it was with wonder, and gratitude, and joy. When they held each other, silently, their tears mingling as their cheeks touched, it was with peace, and certainty. When they slept, it was dreamless - and free.

*****

End

Genesis XI: Renascence
by Radclyffe
EMAIL ADDRESS: radclyffe@radfic.com
SERIES RATING: NC-17; This story depicts graphic sexual encounters between same-sex consenting adults.
SPOILERS: All eps since The Red and the Black
KEYWORDS: Scully/Other(female);Scully/Slash
DISCLAIMERS: The characters of Scully, Mulder, Skinner and others/events introduced on the X-Files are the sole property of Chris Carter etc, and are used here without permission for entertainment, not for profit.
Comments welcome.
Author's note: The entire Genesis series can be found at my website:
http://www.radfic.com/ or http://www.angelfire.com/nf/radclyffe/
SUMMARY: Scully and Marsh defy fate and the forces of darkness to celebrate their love. Spoilers for Requiem

Part One

Day One
Georgetown
5:50 am, EST

"Are you sure you should be doing that?"

"Marsh, honey," Scully said with soft amusement, "It's only been a month. We don't even know for sure yet." She continued to stroke Marsh's abdomen, pushing the sheet lower with each downward motion of her hand. Marsh was propped up next to her in bed, both of them naked, warm and lazy in the early morning light.

"I know that, but I just have a feeling," Marsh remarked, worry warring with desire. She shifted slightly so that they faced each other on their sides, raising one knee to allow Scully's hand to drift lower toward the ache between her legs. She dipped her head and kissed along the edge of Scully's left shoulder and collarbone, ending at the soft fragile triangle at the base of her throat. "I just feel it."

Scully brushed the dark strands of hair from Marsh's cheek, smiling at her lover's handsome profile. Her rational mind told her that was nonsense. Even if they had been lucky enough to be successful with their first attempt, there was no way she should be having any physical signs this early. Nothing that Marsh would pick up on. Silly. Superstitious.

"I feel it, too," Scully whispered.

In the next instant, Scully pushed Marsh over onto her back and slid on top of her, insinuating one leg between Marsh's, nestling her breasts against Marsh's chest, both hands cradling Marsh's face. She gazed deep into those fathomless gray eyes, finding what she always sought - love, acceptance, and safety. And this morning, the smoky haze of want as well. "And even if you're right, it still doesn't mean you have to treat me like an invalid. For god's sakes, Marshall, you're a doctor! We're both doctors. You know damn well that being pregnant is not a disease. I'll be fine."

Marsh looked back at her, not saying what she could barely stand to think about. What would this pregnancy do to Dana's health? What about that strange cancer Dana had told her about, and the even stranger reason that it had gone into remission? What if it wasn't completely gone? Or what if it was merely dormant, waiting for some disruption in the delicate balance of Dana's internal equilibrium to assert itself once again? Would this demand on her system, for which the female body was normally so uniquely constructed, somehow incite rebellion within the altered state of Dana's immune system? Had they been hasty, perhaps even unwise, in pursuing this pregnancy, ignoring the fact that it could actually be dangerous?

She couldn't say these things, because it was done. She could not share these fears, because it would not help her lover. She would not add to what must certainly be the natural uncertainty of pregnancy with questions neither of them could answer. But still fear curled like a living beast within her belly, and sometimes when she looked at Dana, she had to fight for breath, because the thought of losing her was worse than death. She was scared, terrified, and she had no one to tell.

"Believe me, Dr. Scully, no one would ever mistake you for infirm," she said with a faint grin. She wrapped her arms around Scully's back and pulled her close. Their bodies fit perfectly, as if a visceral memory of the hundreds of times they had lain together, and loved together, brought them into effortless union. Now when they made love, passion still blazed brightly, rising from the solid bank of embers long tended and inextinguishable. But the heat never completely disappeared, glowing warm at the center of their lives, forged by the strength of their commitment. Marsh closed her eyes and let that fire purge her fears.

"You don't actually think we're going to stop making love, do you? For nine months??" Scully murmured, her lips close to Marsh's ear. As she spoke, her fingers traveled through the warm, damp curls at the base of Marsh's belly, finding her aroused and throbbing. She grasped her clit delicately with two fingers, squeezing just hard enough to make Marsh groan. "Marsh?"

"Unnh," Marsh croaked, her mind collapsing into pure sensation somewhere far south of her reasoning centers. "What?"

Scully grinned and licked Marsh's neck. Slowly, she slid her fingertips up and down the length of her, and was rewarded immediately with a quickening in Marsh's heartbeat and a catch in her already rapid breathing. "You may be able to wait," she whispered, trapping Marsh's leg between her own, pressing herself hard against the taut muscle of Marsh's thigh. Her own breath caught in her throat. "But I can't."

Marsh managed to turn without dislodging Scully's exquisite hold on her, and slid her fingers between Scully's legs. She mirrored Scully's motion, returning pleasure for pleasure. "Okay, you first."

Scully's eyes clouded at the instant surge of exquisitely pleasurable pressure, then she shook her head. "Uh huh. You." Her words were nearly groans.

Their faces were very close, eyes locked, blue bleeding into gray, their lips barely touching. Marsh trailed her tongue slowly over Scully's lower lip. Scully sucked the tip of it into her mouth. Their fingers never stopped stroking. They watched each other, teasing, pushing, pulling each other closer.

"You."

"No, you."

One finger inside, two, thumbs pressing, circling -- firmer, faster.

"Ready?"

"Soon."

Legs twitching, hips pumping, bellies knotting. Sweat mingling on skin shining with the flush of love.

"Now?" A hint of desperation.

"Oh, fuck -- yeah." Voice breaking on a moan.

They pressed closer, clutching desperately, every surface touching, palms cupped over hot wet pulsating folds and firm slick ridges. Breathless, blind -- soaring on pure sensation. Beyond words, beyond sound -- to a place where every question was answered and every dream fulfilled. Finally - floating, resting - content. With the return of consciousness came soft murmurs, quiet kisses, easy languid caresses. A shifting of thigh, a faint sigh.

Marsh ended up on her back, Scully in her arms, a familiar position. The position they fell asleep in. She ran the fingers of her right hand through the silky hair at the base of Scully's neck. Without meaning to, she felt the tiny ridge of scar tissue over the small oblong fragment of metal, almost close enough to the surface for her to grasp. The image of the Xray was crystal clear in her mind. That crisp, clean foreign object embedded over the skull of the woman she loved. That _thing_ that someone -- something -- had put there. To do what? To cure her? Or to destroy her?

"Are you going to worry the entire time?" Scully asked quietly.

Marsh jumped, her fingers flying from the scar guiltily. "No."

Scully turned her face to kiss the ridge of Marsh's collarbone. "Liar."

Marsh smiled. "I have to do something. I'm a surgeon, remember?"

Scully ran her hand over the small incision at the base of Marsh's smooth belly, envisioning the pink line in her mind. She thought of the medications to induce superovulation Marsh had endured. Her stubborn lover who wouldn't even take an aspirin after having been kidnapped and tortured. She remembered standing beside Marsh's still, sedated body while the fertility specialist introduced the laparoscope to harvest the ripened follicles and capture the eggs they would need to fertilize with the donor sperm. "You did plenty."

"Uh uh," Marsh said with true conviction. "You're getting the worst part of this deal!"

Scully smiled. She was well aware that her tough, highly capable lover found the idea of being pregnant only slightly less horrifying than the thought of alien abduction. She didn't bother trying to explain how incredibly fulfilling the experience would be for her. But she also couldn't help seeing the masked and gowned figures standing under the harsh glare of the OR lights as they invaded Marsh's body with instruments and probes, taking those unique bits of humanity from her, stealing her genetic legacy. No matter that she and Marsh had done it willingly. For a brief instant she had wanted to scream, "No! Stop! Leave her alone!"

She might have done just that if she hadn't had a sudden clear vision of Marsh's grin just before the anesthetist pushed the drug into her arm, and heard her whisper so only Scully could hear, "Here we go, love. Time for us to make a baby."

Scully's eyes filled with tears, and they escaped before she could catch them. Marsh stiffened instantly as the warm droplets fell onto her chest. Her arm tightened around Scully's shoulders, pulling her closer into the curve of her body.

"Dana," she said softly. "I love you with all my heart. Your carrying this baby, nurturing it with your blood and your spirit, that is a gift you give to me. I have just as much to be grateful for as you."

Scully edged up on top of her until she was lying along her length, looking down into her eyes. Tears still shimmered on her lashes, but she was smiling. "I'll remind you of that when you need to make a midnight run for some exotic food I can't live without."

Marsh smiled back, her fears for the moment eclipsed by the glow in Scully's face. "Deal. Now -- I suggest you move if you'd like to be on time for work."

Scully nudged her leg between Marsh's as she glanced at the clock. She knew her lover. They had time.

*****

Day One
9:22 AM, EST
FBI headquarters

"Little twerp," Scully seethed as she stalked about the office. She couldn't believe she'd actually told him about her abduction, and what they had done to her. She definitely wasn't herself these days.

Mulder watched, a wry grin on his face. When he spoke, however, there was no humor in his voice. "I see you enjoyed the little man with the calculator, too."

"I can't believe I had to sit there and justify my work, and explain my life, to some -- some pencil pusher -- who has no concept of what we do." She stood staring at the UFO poster on the office wall, thinking back over the last seven years. She was still sometimes stunned by the directions her life had taken. Professionally, she was light years away from the forensic pathology lab she had expected to inhabit. She had a partner who irritated and amazed her by turns. He was much more than an associate, and closer to her than her own family. She, who had always been the star, excelling in medical school, finishing near the top of her class at Quantico, suddenly found herself fighting for the right to continue her work. If that weren't enough, in the midst of alien conspiracies and more than one threat to her life, she had fallen in love - with a woman no less. A woman who now occupied the center of her existence, without whose love she could not imagine continuing. Along the way someone had invaded her body and stolen a fundamental part of her, denying her the ability to bear children. She and Marsh were taking that back.

She turned and looked at Mulder, her eyes flashing. She would not let anyone take any more. "They've tried to shut us down before, and it won't work this time either."

Mulder studied her with quiet concentration. It was very unlike his cool, composed partner to lose her temper. Come to think of it, she had been on edge for weeks. He knew her well enough by now to know that she would tell him what she could, when she could, but he was tempted to ask anyway. He was saved from possible bodily harm by the ringing of the phone.

Part Two

Day One
Memorial Hospital
10:05am, EST

She was literally up to her elbows in blood. The helicopter had brought in two boys, neither of them yet 20, who had flipped their motorcycle and become airborne over the median strip, landing in oncoming traffic. One of them had been dead at the scene. The second, the one she was working on now, had been unresponsive en route with the paramedics doing CPR in the chopper. The minute they landed in the trauma bay, she had opened his chest, stuck her hand into the cavity while pushing the partially deflated left lung aside, and grabbed the aorta just as it made its turn to descend along the spine into the abdomen. She squeezed as hard as she could, essentially blocking blood flow to everything below his diaphragm. It wasn't particularly healthy for his intestines and kidneys and lower extremities to be deprived of blood, but it was much less healthy for his brain to be without oxygen. Her maneuver would force every bit of blood his heart could manage to pump up into his head, where hopefully the brain would be perfused well enough to survive while she and her team attempted to resuscitate him. Even as she was slashing a 10 inch hole in his chest, she was directing the other two physicians and four nurses simultaneously. Their movements were as choreographed as any ballet troupe as they moved around and over each other performing the tasks they had enacted together so many times before. If they were to be successful, they had perhaps 10 minutes. Time was on their side because he was young.

"Dr. Black!" A voice called across the harshly lit trauma receiving area. "Can you come to the phone?"

Marsh merely grinned grimly at the absurdity of it all. "Will somebody please find me the vascular clamp so I can get my hand out of here?" she said to no one in particular. Miraculously, the 12 inch curved, finely-serrated clamp emerged between the multitude of arms surrounding the boy's upper body, and she grasped it gratefully. It took her only a second to cinch it down over the huge artery. She called over her shoulder, "Just take a message, Sandy. I'm in the middle of things here."

"It's Dr. Scully," the ward clerk responded pointedly.

For one brief instant Marsh's attention was torn from the scene in front of her. The staff in her unit knew to inform her when her lover called, because Dana almost never called unless it was important. A second's distraction to wonder if there was a problem, to feel the fist of worry knot in her stomach, was all she had time for, because the blood pressure readout on the monitor above the stainless-steel stretcher was nose-diving towards zero. Whatever Dana needed to tell her, it would have to wait. She could only hope it wasn't anything serious, because she didn't even have time to reply.

It didn't take them ten minutes. His pressure came up with the blood they were pumping into the large veins under his clavicles, his heart rate stabilized, and he was transported to the OR where the damage could be identified and hopefully repaired. Maybe he'd survive if his brain cells were still viable and his lungs didn't fill with fluid, and his kidneys kept filtering the poisons from his system. She had done what she could.

She walked to the nearest wallphone and dialed the direct line to Scully's office. No answer. She looked for Sandy and didn't see her. She crossed the litter-strewn trauma bay, avoiding the pools of blood and cast off equipment wrappers, rooted around on the long counter that served as a desk, and found a coffee-stained, crumpled pink slip of paper.

_Dr. Scully called. No message_

Marsh sighed. She thought for a second, then dialed her home number. She punched in the endless series of prompts to get to her messages, glancing at the clock. They would need her upstairs in the OR in a minute. Finally, a familiar voice spoke from her voice mail.

"Honey. Mulder and I got called out unexpectedly and we're flying to Oregon. I'll probably be gone a few days. I'll call you as soon as I can. I love you."

Marsh felt the familiar swell of anxiety she always experienced when Dana was away on a case. It was useless to tell herself that Dana would be fine, because she hadn't been fine too many times for her to count. Mulder was there with her, and she had accepted that she must trust him to really be there if Dana needed him. Jesus, she hated this. And now, with the baby---

She dropped the phone in the cradle as the loud-speaker blared:

Dr. Black, STAT, OR three! Dr. Black STAT

She was already running, pushing her fears to the back of her mind. Until later.

*****

Night One
1:05am, EST

Marsh rolled over in the dark and reached for the bedside phone. "Black," she said through a throat raspy with fatigue.

"Hey."

Marsh lay back on her narrow on-call room bed with a smile, the tight band of tension in her chest easing instantly. She didn't bother with a light. "Hey yourself."

"Did I wake you?" Scully knew how hard it was to get any rest in the hospital. Even when the phone wasn't ringing there was always that underlying edge of nervous anticipation, waiting for the next emergency, that never quite went away.

"No," Marsh replied. *I always have trouble sleeping without you. Especially when I know you're far away.*

"Rough day?" She could hear the weariness in Marsh's voice.

"The usual." Marsh didn't see any point in telling her about the kid that almost made it. "Where are you?"

"Bellefleur, Oregon. Pine cone center of the universe."

"What are you doin' there?" Marsh laughed.

There was silence on the line for an instant, and she knew that Dana was trying to decide how much to tell her. Not a good sign. "Dana?"

"There have been some disappearances. We're looking into them." Her voice was careful and noncommittal. It wasn't a matter of security. Marsh's clearance level was almost as high as her own. It was because she knew damn well if she breathed the word abduction, Marsh would never get any sleep. And probably spend the entire time she was gone distracted and on edge.

Marsh knew that Mulder and Dana did not fly across the country on a simple missing persons case. They were not that kind of FBI. "Should I worry?" she said lightly, trying not to sound too anxious.

Scully heard it any way. She sighed. So much for secrets. Damn, she hated what this did to Marsh. To be fair, if the situation were reversed, she'd probably feel the same way. "I don't think so. It's a bit weird, because we've been here before. It was our first case together, in fact. But I have a feeling that whatever has happened here is mostly over. We'll probably look around a bit tomorrow, and then give it back to the locals. I'll be fine."

"Okay," Marsh said, although for some reason her uneasiness persisted. There was something in Dana's voice that sounded less certain that her words. "Are you sure you're all right?"

Scully leaned back on the pillows, still in the suit she had traveled in, and thought about the disorienting sensations that had floated at the edges of her consciousness all day. Like an elusive memory that nearly formed, then fluttered away. She shook her head impatiently. It was probably just the strangeness of seeing Billy Miles and the other abductees all grown up, and being back in the place where it had all started. She and Mulder, so new to each other then, still wary and more than a bit suspicious. Her own certainty that everything could be explained by science and reason, given enough time and enough information. She almost laughed out loud. God, how naive she had been! She had had plenty of time, and more than enough experiences in the last seven years, and she still couldn't be certain of anything except the fact that she trusted Mulder and that Marsh loved her. Perhaps that was more than most people could say.

She listened to the sound of Marsh's slow steady breathing from three thousand miles away and wished she could hold her. "I miss you," she said unexpectedly. She hadn't meant to say that. It was always true, but she had learned to live with the separations, and tried not to let the loneliness seep into their conversations. It didn't help either of them.

"Me, too," Marsh said softly.

"Oh, yeah?" Scully rejoined, closing her eyes, picturing Marsh in her navy blue scrubs in the small on-call room at the other end of the hallway from the trauma unit. "How much?"

"Pretty much," Marsh answered, her voice dropping lower with the faint stirring of longing. Scully's face shown in her mind, azure eyes sparkling, her full lips parted in welcome.

"Want some company for a while?" Scully offered. They hadn't done it much, but sometimes it was just too hard to say goodnight, because it was really goodbye, and there were times when that was too frightening to contemplate.

"You know what I'd like?" Marsh said softly.

"What, love?"

"I'd like you to lie down with me."

"Is that all?" Scully teased.

"No," Marsh admitted, "but it's always the best part."

Scully caught her breath. Sometimes she loved her so much it hurt. "Move over then," she whispered.

Marsh shifted toward the wall, making room on the outer half of the bed, turning slightly on her side with the phone cradled on the pillow near her ear. "Do you have enough room?"

"Just let me get a little closer," Scully said. "If you move your arm just a bit, I can get my head on your shoulder."

Marsh complied, feeling her there just as she had less than twenty-four hours ago. Her skin flushed with the memory. "Better already," she sighed.

"Umm," Scully agreed, envisioning the tousled dark hair, the commanding features, the long, lean form. Her fingertips tingled in anticipation of the soft, warm skin. "It'd be even better if you'd help me with the damn tie on those scrubs. You know how I am with my left hand."

Marsh laughed softly as she pulled the knot loose at her waist, tugging the shirt bottom free, baring her abdomen for the touch she knew so well. "I've never had any complaint about either hand."

Scully smiled as her hand sought flesh, found it, stroked lightly. Muscles fluttered beneath her teasing touch. She heard the slight catch in Marsh's breathing. "Don't be in a hurry," she warned gently.

"Me?" Marsh rejoined, shifting slightly, one knee bent, making it easier for fingers to drift lower. She swallowed, waiting. "Never."

But they both felt the heat and the urgency. Scully shivered although the room was warm, that heavy heat so common to motel rooms. She sighed, and heard the echo over the line as she discovered pools of hidden moisture, thick and rich -- ready. The long gliding caresses were a momentary panacea for the loneliness and the fatigue.

"That's nice."

"Yes."

They knew each other's touch as their own, and their own as the other's. Through space, across miles, past uncertainty and beyond fear, they soothed the aches and tendered to the wounds with each soft murmur of knowing and every small cry of connection. They were as close as they could be, sharing sensations so familiar that there was no ending of one, nor beginning of the other. Without conscious thought, their movements found the same pace, the same rhythm - their heartbeats synchronized and their breath flowed together on long sighs. Muscles tightened, legs stretched, and hips strained -- as attuned as any two lovers in one another's arms.

"Hold me tight." A plea half-sobbed in the last second of awareness.

"Oh, baby -- always."

Marsh felt Scully's lips softly on her cheek, her hands gently leading her to safety, and the sensation that flooded her was peace. Across a continent, Dana Scully smiled as her body lifted to join her lovers and she knew with absolute certainty where her heart belonged.

"Marsh?" she said quietly after a moment.

"Hmm," came the still breathless reply.

"Put down the phone and go to sleep -- while I'm still there with you."

"I love you, Dana," Marsh said as she turned to hang up the receiver.

"I love you, too, Marsh," Scully whispered back as she did the same.

Marsh fell asleep almost at once. Scully rolled over, glanced at the clock and sighed. She needed to shower and to try to sleep. Mulder would no doubt want to be up and looking for witnesses at dawn's early light. Despite the uneasy feeling she'd had all day, she didn't really expect they'd find anything. They hadn't seven years ago. Still, they had to be sure. She had to be sure. Because it had all started here, somehow, and if there was an answer anywhere, it would be here. Now, more than ever, she needed those answers.

She stubbornly ignored the unfamiliar weakness in her legs as she gathered her things for the shower, and refused to think about the dizziness that was becoming more and more apparent with each step. It was jet lag.

Nothing more.

Part Three

Day Two
8:07pm PST
Bellefleur, Oregon

Mulder sat on top of the covers on his not quite double-sized motel room bed in Bellefleur, Oregon, sorting through photos of Ray Hosey's body. He was the missing deputy in question and these photos had been supplied by his wife, who purported that they showed signs of Ray's previous abductions. She was convinced he had been taken again. Mulder was inclined to agree. He was just beginning to study the scars on the man's neck when there was a knock at his door. He glanced up in surprise.

"Who is it?" he called.

"It's me."

When he opened he door, Scully stood there, pale and shaking. Worse than that, even, she looked scared.

"Jesus, Scully, what's wrong? You look sick," he asked, taking her arm and leading her into the room.

She looked slightly confused, almost dazed. "I don't know what's wrong. I don't feel well. I was getting ready for bed and all of a sudden I got dizzy. Vertigo or something. Then I started to get chills."

She was trembling. Mulder couldn't ever remember her looking quite so vulnerable. He urged her to lie down, holding the covers up for her to scoot under, and then tucked the patterned comforter around her. "Should I call a doctor?"

"No, I just need to get warm." She rolled onto her side and clutched the pillow, hugging it to herself. This didn't feel like anything she had ever experienced before. Her body felt like someone else's, light and heavy by turns. She was afraid parts of her were going to start flying about the room. She shuddered and swallowed a moan.

Mulder stood by the side of the bed, fighting the panic. Something was really wrong. He was starting to feel sick just from seeing her like this. "How about Marsh? Should I get her on the phone?"

That roused her from her drug-like torpor. "God, no! She'd probably insist on flying out here."

*Uh huh. Sounds like a good plan to me* He didn't say that though. He just laid down beside her and draped an arm around her shoulders. He could at least share his body heat. He wondered if any of this was due to the strange forces at work in Bellefleur. Even the air here seemed to tingle with something otherworldly. And it wasn't a nice feeling. "Maybe you should go home in the morning, Scully."

"I'll be fine, Mulder," she said, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. "Soon as I get warm."

He wrapped himself around her, his cheek coming to rest near hers. For the first time in his memory, she seemed fragile. Even standing beside her ICU bed, nearly three years before, watching her struggle with cancer, he hadn't had this sense of her mortality. He had been more arrogant then, more certain of the rightness of his quest. He had believed that there were answers, and that he would find them. He had believed that he could save her. In the end, he hadn't really been the one who provided the mysterious chip that cured her. The chip that he knew was still buried in the tissues of her neck. One man he couldn't trust had led him to it, and another he hated had convinced him to give it to her. He had only been the messenger, and most of the time he had only brought her pain.

"It's not worth it, Scully," he said almost to himself.

"What?" she asked, not understanding.

He thought of all she had lost - her sister Melissa; Emily - the little girl that might have been her child; her ability to have others; and most of all, her youthful certainty that there was order and honor in the universe. He still had such a clear image of her holding the Hosey baby that afternoon. How beautiful the two of them had been. The child so innocent, and Scully's face so peaceful. If this place and what was happening here was going to demand something else of her, he wanted her to go home. Enough was enough.

He told her so. "Maybe the FBI is right, but for all the wrong reasons. The personal costs are too high. There's so much more you have to do in your life. There has to be an end, Scully."

He kissed her cheek, and held her tight, and she smiled through her discomfort. What a time for him to bring this up. Or maybe it was exactly the right time. She had wondered when, and how, she would tell him. Lying here, with his arms around her, seemed perfect.

"Mulder?"

"Hmm?" he murmured against her cheek, almost asleep himself.

"I think I'm pregnant."

His eyes flew open, and he jumped involuntarily. "Could you repeat that please?"

She did.

He had thought that nothing could shock him as much as the moment when she had told him that she and Marshall Black were lovers, but he had been wrong. For a second, he couldn't breathe. "How? Who? When?" he finally croaked.

She laughed weakly, keeping her back to him but welcoming the comforting warmth of his embrace. "The who doesn't matter so much except that it's Marsh's egg, and I've been carrying it for over five weeks. I didn't want to say anything until I was sure, but --"

"Holy god," he breathed, the words a true benediction.

His first reaction after amazement was joy, and then, surprisingly, sadness. They had been together so long, and shared so much. Lives had been saved and destroyed during that time, their own among them. Each time he thought it was over, the two of them had fought their way back, rising stronger and surer because they fought together. He depended on her - for support, for encouragement, for courage itself. He needed her. And he loved her.

And she was well and truly gone.

Somewhere, deep inside, he supposed he had always harbored the fantasy that she would leave Marsh, and maybe there'd be a chance for him. He wasn't particularly proud of that fact, and the only thing he could say in his own defense was that he would have felt the same way if Marsh had been a man. It wasn't Scully's choice of a woman as her lover that he resisted, but that it wasn't him. Oh sure, as the years had passed, even before Marshall Black came along and stole Scully's heart, he had known it wasn't meant to be. Neither he nor Scully had been willing to take the step that would change everything between them. It wasn't cowardice so much as honesty. They loved each other, but their destiny was not to be lovers, but mates none the less. Bonded in some deep way by their quest, and the price it exacted from them.

Still, in a small corner of his heart, he had hoped.

"Mulder?" Scully queried softly, wondering at his stillness, and his silence.

He cleared his throat. "I'm so happy for you, Dana. For you - and Marsh."

She turned her head, but couldn't quite see his face where he lay with his front along her back. There was something in his voice, though. "Are you upset?"

He gave her a squeeze. "No. Just shocked speechless. It's the last thing I expected."

Scully pregnant. Scully a mother. Jesus. He tried to imagine it. He could, so easily, remembering the soft contentment in her eyes when she held Theresa Hosey's baby that morning. So natural, so right. And he couldn't imagine it at all. Was he going to lose her now? Really lose her? Would she quit the Bureau? He had a feeling that Marsh would want her to. He'd want her to if she were his wife. Oh, yeah -- and she'd go along with that, too. Sure. Uh huh. Oh boy.

He laughed softly.

"What," she asked again, finally starting to feel warm.

"How's Marsh taking it?"

Scully chuckled fondly. "Does the term 'controlled panic' bring anything to mind?"

"That's what I figured," he responded. Suddenly serious, he said, "That's all the more reason you're going home in the morning, Scully."

"Forget it, Mulder. I'll be fine." And with that, she cuddled a little closer, closed her eyes, and went to sleep. He lay awake quite a bit longer, thinking about all the things in his life that might have been.

*****

Day Three
Bellefleur, Oregon
7:20am PST

Mulder grabbed the phone while he pulled at the zipper of his fly.

"Mulder," he said, the receiver cradled between shoulder and ear. He scrabbled on the dresser with one hand, looking for his wallet and keys.

"Mulder, where's Dana?"

He stopped his hectic search and sat down on the side of the bed. "She's probably in her cabin--"

"I just called there."

"-- in the shower."

Silence.

"What's wrong?" Marsh said quietly, almost breathless with the quick surge of fear that seized her heart. If Dana hadn't been in her room ten minutes ago, and she was now, then she had spent the night with Mulder. And if she had done that, she was in trouble. "Is she hurt?"

Damn. Why was he always having this conversation with her? Because it kept happening, that's why. No wonder Marsh was always worried. Scully and he had seen more than their share of danger. "She's not hurt. She's okay. Call her again in a minute and she'll fill you in."

He hoped that would satisfy her. Yeah, right.

"What happened last night?"

He hung his head. Stared at his shoes. Cursed under his breath. "She didn't feel well. Just a little touch of something, I don't know. Flu or something. She fell asleep over here and I thought she should sleep so I didn't wake her."

Marsh figured that was true. Mulder had never lied to her. He didn't always tell her everything, but that was Mulder. There was more, she was sure, but she wouldn't find out from him.

"Will you do something for me, Mulder?" she asked softly.

"Yes."

"Will you make her come home if she's in danger?" Marsh swallowed. The words were hard to say because the thought terrified her. "Please."

He nodded, because the thought terrified him, too. "I will."

"Thanks. I'll try to catch her in her room then."

He said goodbye, and grabbed the rest of things. He wondered why Marsh had asked him that. All they were planning on doing was looking around in the woods for the possible UFO crash site. It would be broad daylight. What could possibly happen?

Part Four

Night Four
12:32 am EST
Washington, DC

Scully let herself quietly into Marsh's apartment, depositing luggage, clothes and shoes by the door. It had been a hellish day and a half. The flu, which was how she insisted on referring to it, had not let up, and she had actually fainted out in the forest where Gary, another missing Bellefleur resident, had last been seen. If she hadn't stubbornly refused, Mulder would have dragged her to the hospital immediately, or at the very least, to the airport. Her will had prevailed, however, and they remained another day to finish interviews, all of which had yielded nothing. If there was something out there, they hadn't found more than a few toxic waste spots to show for it. By then, of course, Skinner had gotten wind of their adventures and had informed them in no uncertain terms that they were to be on the next flight back to DC. So, weary, dejected, and no closer to an answer as to the location, or even the existence, of the UFO, they had stumbled home.

She hadn't wanted to think too much about what had really happened to her out there in those woods. She preferred to think it was just a remnant of whatever twenty-four hour bug had affected her the previous night. She remembered quite clearly the sensation of vertigo, although it had been more than simple dizziness. She'd actually felt her entire body spinning. It was as if some powerful force had been tugging at her. And that's what really terrified her. This had something to do with the abductions in Bellefleur seven years ago, and her own disappearance on Skyland Mountain. The thought that the abductees were being taken again was almost more than she could bear. And now it wasn't just her own personal safety at stake. There was Marsh to think about, and their child. Through the confusion and the physical discomfort, one emotion was crystal clear, however. Anger. She would not be a victim of this malevolent force again, and neither would anyone else if she could possibly help it. She would find out what was happening. But just at this moment all she wanted was Marsh.

"I'm so glad to be home," she whispered as she crawled into bed beside Marsh, settling into the curves of her body with a small sigh.

Marsh brushed a kiss across Scully's forehead, nestling her face into the soft reddish strands of hair beneath her cheek. "Not half as much as I am to have you here."

Marsh's arm came around her, one hand softly stroking the length of her arm. Scully knew Marsh had been lying awake waiting for her. For a few moments, they lay in silence in the moonlit room. Scully relaxed into her, welcoming her warmth and familiarity. She rested her cheek in the curve of Marsh's neck and shoulder, laying her right hand on Marsh's abdomen. Aimlessly, she traced her fingers over the smooth skin and taut muscles. She listened to the steady reassuring rhythm of Marsh's heart, closed her eyes, and tried to let go of all the fear and uncertainty of the last few days.

"Do you want to talk?" Marsh asked gently into the darkness.

"Not yet."

Marsh nodded silently, continuing her soft caresses. At length she said quietly, "It was really hard this time. I don't know why, but the entire time you were gone I had this feeling that you were in danger. I could almost feel it." She swept her hand down Scully's back, almost as if reassuring herself that Scully was solid, and real. "Are you all right?"

"I am now," Scully whispered. She threw one leg over Marsh's with a sigh. "I love you so much."

"I love you," Marsh murmured, the hand that had been stroking Scully's side sliding up to cup her breast, the weight of it a comfort in her palm.

Scully watched the patterns of light and shadow dance across the ceiling from the moonlight filtering through the open window blinds. She thought about how much her life had changed since Marsh had come to offer her what she hadn't realized she had been missing all those long, lonely years. Comfort and understanding and passion, and the security that comes from knowing that it will all be there the next day. She had found a home in Marsh's heart, and together they had made a life. And now, there was life within her.

"I want this baby so much," she finally admitted, holding onto Marsh even tighter, as if by saying it she could do some harm. "I want your baby, our baby. I want this child so much."

Marsh's eyes filled with tears, and she struggled to find her voice. "I know you do, and so do I. It will be a beautiful child, and it will be ours. I can't imagine wanting or loving anything more - except you."

Scully envisioned what would happen inside her body over the next few months. Despite the fact that she was a physician, it was still a miracle too huge to really contemplate. To discover that she would be able to experience that miracle, when for so long she thought it would be denied her, was a gift beyond description. She smiled. Marsh always seemed to be able to discern her needs, even when she couldn't verbalize them herself. "Are you very tired?"

She sensed Marsh's answering smile, and felt the quickening of the pulse that beat under her cheek.

"Not anymore," Marsh replied, shifting and gently turning Scully onto her back. "Why don't you let me put you to sleep."

Scully thought to protest for an instant. It was so hard for her to let anyone take care of her, even Marsh, even now. But Marsh's lips were already kissing her eyelids closed, and with a sigh she allowed herself to be attended.

She floated in that half-awake, half-asleep state of utter relaxation, underlain with whispers of arousal. Her mind emptied of every thought, drifting along the edges of consciousness, roused now and then by some burning point of pleasure that demanded her attention. She languidly stroked her fingers through Marsh's thick hair as Marsh softly sucked one nipple, aware of fatigue being eclipsed by desire. She wasn't tired any longer.

"Bite it," Scully murmured, her voice low and husky. She pressed Marsh's face harder against her breast, a soft moan escaping as Marsh teased her with her teeth. She grasped the curls in her fist and drew Marsh to her other nipple, needing to feel her there, too.

Marsh followed Scully's lead, using her lips and tongue on Scully's breasts and belly, one hand smoothing down over the still flat abdomen, along the curve of hip, tracing the muscles in her thigh. As she drew her fingers slowly up the inside of Scully's leg, the fingers in her hair pushed her head lower. Marsh grinned, moving downward, but stopping at Scully's navel. She caught the edge in her teeth, tugging lightly until she heard Scully gasp. Then she soothed the tiny point of pain with her tongue.

"I'm awake now," Scully whispered.

Marsh drew her fingers up into warm, waiting moisture. "I noticed."

"Do it now," Scully said softly, stretching her legs, arching her hips in invitation. "But do it slow."

Some things should be savored. And Marsh did. Scully's body surged beneath her hands, and in her mouth, and under her tongue, but she took her time. She felt the blood pulsing against her lips and around her fingers, beating at her with urgent pleas, but she held back -- licking softly, stroking slowly, deep long strokes that stoked the fire in Scully's belly until she was whimpering.

Scully's fingers dug into Marsh's arms, her thighs tightened against Marsh's shoulders, and she gasped, "Soon. Don't stop."

In answer, Marsh took her clit lightly between her teeth, flicked at the tip with her tongue, and let her hand lie still within, waiting for the contractions to begin. When the first faint spasms flickered around her fingers, she sucked harder, pressed deeper, and pushed Scully wi