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Genesis I: Chance Encounter
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

March 1998

Mercifully the paralyzing force emanating from within the blinding white presence overhead began to move away. The darkness that followed in it's wake was worse. It was more than the absence of light, it was a pervasive emptiness that left her hollow, devoid of knowledge and will. Without those she was helpless, carried along by the press of bodies in the terrifying confusion. Powerless to affect her own fate, she was aware of only one thing--isolation. She was adrift, and so terribly, terribly alone. It was unbearable, and Dana Scully had no choice but to surrender.

Ruskin Dam, Pa. - 5:16am

The helicopter deposited Marsh Black in the midst of chaos. Ducking low to avoid the swinging blades, Marsh scrambled away from the craft and grabbed the arm of the first person passing by.

"Where is triage?" Marsh shouted above the reverberations of the rotors. The distracted young soldier pointed to one of the large tents set up in the midst of a broad field. The quickly erected emergency lights cast a harsh glare over the entire scene. Ambulances and other evacuation vehicles ringed the perimeter of the hastily constructed compound. Military and civilian medical personnel rushed to accommodate the wounded arriving from the dam. The red and blue strobe lights atop the emergency vehicles cast their faces in eerie shadows.

"Over there," he motioned with an arm, anxious to deliver the frozen blood and plasma he was carrying.

Marsh pushed through the tent flaps, and quickly searched the enclosure for someone who seemed to be in charge. A woman in scrubs was directing soldiers carrying stretchers to various parts of the room.

"I'm Dr. Black," Marsh said by way of greeting. "Tell me what you've got here."

"We're certainly glad to see you," the slight dark haired woman replied. "I can't say for sure how many we're getting, but there's a combination of serious burns, exposure, shock, and I think a couple of gun shot wounds. Kids, adults - the works."

"Terrific. How are we fixed for supplies?" Marsh queried, reaching for a cover gown from a pile on a nearby table.

"Well enough. All we've been doing is starting IVs, covering the major wounds with sterile dressings, and transporting as quickly as we can."

Marsh nodded. "Sounds like you're doing the right thing. Point me in the direction of the most critically injured. Any walking wounded I don't need to see. Have a medic or a nurse tend to them and get them out of the way. Move anyone who clearly won't survive to the bottom of the transport list. If you have a question, ask me. I'm sure you know the drill."

The nurse nodded. She had military experience, and knew very well that in a major disaster, there were three classes of patients. Those who would survive without attention, those who would die regardless of treatment, and those who would die if they weren't treated immediately. It was only the third group who demanded immediate attention. She still had no idea what had happened to the hundred or so people burned in some kind of massive explosion on Ruskin Dam. As she leaned down to feel for a pulse in the neck of a young burn victim, she had no time to wonder why the military was on the scene so quickly, nor who the many men searching among the wounded, speaking frantically into hand-held radios, might be.

Marsh stepped to the first patient in the cluster of injured, quickly assessing the extent of the deep burns covering the man's face, chest and arms. "Vital signs?" Marsh asked of the EMT who was starting an IV in the patient's leg.

"BP 100 over 60, pulse 120 and thready, respirations 30."

Marsh grabbed the stethoscope hanging around the young man's neck and leaned down to listen for breath sounds. She pressed the cold metal bell of the stethoscope against the patient's chest, listened for a few seconds, then straightened with a frown. "His lungs are wet, and with those facial burns he's probably got upper airway edema or smoke inhalation at the very least. He needs to be tubed."

The EMT had no idea who this person was, but as he watched the quick and skillful intubation, he was happy to follow the orders. "You got it, doc," he grunted as he attached the compressible bag to the end of the plastic endotracheal tube so that he could begin breathing for the injured man.

"Thanks," Marsh muttered, moving down the line to the next patient. Time was condensed by the sounds and sights of the dying into a series of fleeting images that would be forever indelibly stamped in her memory.

"Excuse me, doctor," a paramedic called hesitantly, "I think this patient is trying to say she's a doctor."

Marsh turned to look at the woman on the stretcher. Her breath caught in her chest, and for an instant she stood transfixed. She had never expected to see her again, but the years had not dimmed her memory of that face. The rich red hair against her clear flawless skin, made paler now by injury, was a striking image that had been impossible to forget. Now there was pain that hadn't been there before, etched into the fine lines between her brows, but it did not detract from her beauty. Marsh stepped closer, leaning down to take her wrist, searching for the pulse. Surprisingly clear although somewhat unfocused blue eyes gazed back at her, struggling for comprehension. Marsh leaned down to hear her faint words, the chaos around her receding into the background as her entire consciousness focused on the woman's face.

"Mulder?" Scully murmured, trying hard to see who was bending over her. The hair was dark and unruly like his, but the eyes weren't quite right. These eyes were dark gray, and stormy like the sea on an over cast morning, not moody and pensive like Mulder's. The fingers wrapped around her wrist were the only points of warmth on her body. Everywhere there was an agonizing emptiness. Was she dying? "I'm so cold," she whispered, fighting panic. "What's happening?"

"You're in a hospital," Marsh said gently. "You're going to be all right. We're taking care of you, and you'll be warm soon, I promise."

Scully struggled to find something solid to hold onto. She dreaded slipping back into that limbo of mind-numbing disorientation. Her free hand squeezed the warm fingers on her arm. She fixed on the steady gaze of the woman above her. "Please keep me here - don't let me disappear," she said urgently, trying to make herself understood. It was so hard, and she was so very tired!

"Listen to me," Marsh said soothingly, "you are safe. I won't let anything happen to you. I'll be right here. I promise. Trust me, you're safe now."

Marsh lifted the thick red hair back from the patient's forehead, quickly assessing the second-degree burns on her upper face, arms, and backs of her hands. They didn't appear serious, but it was clear she was suffering from severe exposure. Marsh glanced toward the paramedic. "Make sure you keep her well hydrated, cover the burns with silvadene, and find some more blankets. She's hypothermic, and if you don't get her warm quickly we'll have a full-blown case of shock on our hands." She didn't want to leave her like this, helpless and frightened, but she had wounded people who needed her more.

Marsh gave a final whispered assurance before moving off, and the younger woman finally seemed calm, releasing her grip on Marsh's arm as her eyes closed. Sometime later Marsh glanced over and noticed two men anxiously crowding around the injured woman. The tall lanky guy was a stranger, but the broad shouldered slightly older man was very familiar. His presence answered the question of why Marsh had been awakened at 4 a.m. for a helicopter ride to a disaster site in the middle of Pennsylvania.

**********

Memorial Hospital, Washington, DC - Twenty-four hours later

Marsh shouldered through the door, looking at the graphic sheet of vital signs on the patient in room 301. The tall good-looking guy from the evac tent was standing in front of the windows, hands jammed deep in the pockets of his rumpled gray flannel trousers, looking about as tired as Marsh felt.

Scully looked up from the bed, grateful for the interruption. Her head ached from trying to remember the events of the last 48 hours, and her recent exchange with Mulder wasn't helping. In his own way, he was as confused and uncertain as she was. It wasn't a state of mind either of them was comfortable with. Up until recently, it had been Mulder with the unshakable vision, and although she often disagreed with him, she had trusted in his certainty. Now he was questioning everything he had ever believed. She still trusted him, but she could not help feeling alone.

Scully surveyed her visitor, trying to remember where they had met. The dark blue scrubs and white lab coat were of no help, but she was certain that she had seen the tall, dark haired woman before.

"How are you feeling, Agent Scully?" Marsh asked as the disgruntled man passed by without a word. "I'm Doctor Black."

*I know that voice* It was deep and soothing, and Scully searched her still fuzzy memory trying to remember when she last heard it. *Her face is familiar too, although it would be hard to forget those piercing eyes and elegant features. Why does it feel like I know her?*

Marsh saw the confusion on her face. "I was at the evacuation center yesterday morning. You probably know by now you're at Memorial. I'm chief of trauma here. Your burns aren't serious, although I'll bet they're painful. Do you need anything?"

*Chief of trauma? She must have started medical school at 12* Scully shook her head, careful not to reveal the discomfort in her neck and shoulders. "I'm fine. Are you here to release me?"

"I think that's a little premature. There's still a slight risk of infection, and I think your headache will improve if we keep the IV in another eight hours to hydrate you further."

Scully smiled faintly. "How do you know about the headache?"

Marsh grinned slightly in return. "Educated guess. I know you tough FBI types are supposed to be impervious to pain, but in here it's allowed."

Scully's face became expressionless. Despite the strange lingering sense of connection she felt with this woman, she didn't know her. What's more, she didn't know what she knew. Mulder hadn't been exactly a font of information, and she desperately wanted to know the details of what had happened on Ruskin Dam. *Well I'm the investigator, I guess I should investigate*

"How many survivors were there?" Scully asked quietly. She pulled herself up on the pillows, ignoring the increased throbbing in her head. For some reason, she didn't want to appear so helpless in front of the surgeon who regarded her with intense dark eyes.

"About 50," Marsh answered. She walked to the foot of the bed, grasping the low rail with both hands, leaning forward. Her eyes never left Scully's face. "Most of the dead died at the scene. The burns were massive. You are suffering from hypothermia in addition to your burns."

Up close, Scully could see the lines of fatigue etched around her eyes and down her sculpted cheeks. Rather than detract from her appearance, the air of weariness enhanced her attractiveness. Scully thought she must be one of those women the Gothic romances she secretly read as a child referred to as handsome. *Now where did that come from! I must be more foggy than I realized!*

"Have you been working all night?" Scully queried gently.

Marsh shrugged dismissively. "I'm used to it. Seriously, I'd like you to stay in until tomorrow." She could see the redhead's shoulders stiffen in resistance. There was a flash of fire in her azure blue eyes, and her full almost bruised-appearing lips tightened slightly. That look of unswervable determination reminded Marsh of the first time she had seen her. It was nearly four years ago, but the event was still clear in her mind. She had answered a trauma call, and when she entered the trauma bay, she found two men with gunshot wounds to the chest, both of them dying. That, in and of itself, wasn't all that remarkable. Street violence in Washington D.C. was common. What was remarkable was the fact that her best resident was following the instructions of someone Marsh had never seen before. The woman who was her patient now had been running that code, insisting that they keep shocking the guy on the table despite the fact that the EKG was clearly flatlined. Marsh would have intervened immediately but something in the woman's face had stopped her. *It's the same look she's got right now. Absolute certainty, and remarkable strength* She had left an indelible impression. Marsh had thought about her long after that day.

"If you must leave," Marsh added softly, to take the command from her tone, "at least spend the next few days in bed. You're not fit for duty, and if pressed, I'll say so."

"Don't worry, she's not going anywhere for a while," a deep voice said from the doorway.

Marsh looked slowly over shoulder toward the voice that still made her want to come to attention. "Hello, Walter."

Scully gaped in astonished. *Walter!! She calls him Walter? Who the hell is she?*

AD Skinner nodded, a muscle along his jaw tightening for an instant. "Hello, Black. I need to speak to you."

"I'm nearly done with rounds. You can wait in my office. You still know the way?"

"I'll see you there after I debrief Agent Scully, doctor." Skinner said in dismissal.

"Not too long, please. She's not ready for an interrogation."

Scully braced for the explosion that didn't come. Skinner flushed, and the tendons in his muscular neck tightened against his starched white collar, but he didn't say a word.

Scully waited until the surgeon had left before turning her attention to Skinner. She knew better than to ask him about the mysterious Doctor Black. AD Skinner wasn't in the habit of sharing information with her. Nevertheless, she desperately hoped he could shed some light on what had happened to her in the last two days.

Part Two

"What happened?" Scully asked Skinner as soon as they were alone.

"That's what I was hoping you could tell me," Skinner said, standing with his legs spread and his hands clenched behind his back. It seemed like one or the other of his two best agents was constantly in trouble, while he was in the dark. This time he had been certain she was dead. Once he saw her in the evacuation tent, his relief had turned to barely contained anger. If he didn't know what they were doing, he couldn't protect them.

Scully sighed. "Like I told Mulder earlier, I don't know how I got there, or why I went there, and I can't remember what happened."

"What about Cassandra Spender?"

"Oh god," Scully gasped, flashing on an image of the woman's face illuminated by a glaring white light. "She was _there_! Is she all right?"

"Missing," Skinner said with a grimace. "Agent Spender is not too happy. He's convinced that you and Mulder had something to do with her disappearance."

"If only I could remember!" Scully groaned, allowing her frustration to show in a rare moment of disclosure.

"I want you stay here at least another 24 hours. This is the third mass extermination that we know of in less than a week. The Russians aren't giving us any information about Kazahkstan, and we don't have much more about Skyline Mountain. You're a witness, and for the time being, you'll be safe in here."

Scully started to protest, then thought better of it. Perhaps if she got a little sleep, she would have a better memory of the events. Then she could convince AD Skinner that she would be more useful back in the field.

**********

Memorial Hospital 6:15 p.m.

When she awoke, the room was dark, and she was not alone. When her eyes adjusted to the dim glow from the baseboard safety lights, she focused on the figure in the chair next to her bed.

"I thought for a second you were Mulder," Scully said to the woman now dressed in blue jeans and an oversized sweat shirt. *She certainly looks as rumpled as Mulder does sometimes*

"He was by this afternoon, but the nurses told him you were sleeping. I'm sure he'll be here first thing in the morning."

"And are you my bodyguard until then?" Scully asked only half facetiously, remembering Skinner's comments. Strangely, she wasn't uneasy in the company of a virtual stranger. It had been oddly comforting to awaken and see her there.

Marsh grinned somewhat sheepishly. She ran her hand through her collar-length hair, leaving it to fall unheeded across her forehead. She appeared to be searching for words.

Scully found the surgeon's unselfconscious mannerisms in stark contrast to her earlier professional demeanor. She relaxed against the pillows, glad for the company.

"Actually Skinner asked me to check in on you. I was just on my way home, and when I looked in..." Marsh uncharacteristically averted her gaze. *How do I tell her that she was so lovely asleep that I just wanted to look at her?*

"What?" Scully probed.

"You looked too peaceful to disturb," Marsh said softly.

Scully felt herself blush, moved by the gentleness and something else she couldn't define in the other woman's tone. She cleared her throat, which was suddenly dry, asking, "Who _are_ you, besides the chief of trauma?"

Marsh leaned back in the thinly padded hospital chair, stretching her long legs in front of her. She steepled her hands under her chin, and thought for a moment. Scully straightened in the bed, holding the sheet just below her breasts over the thin hospital gown, studying Marsh's face. If anything, the doctor appeared vulnerable in her fatigue, and certainly not threatening. Nevertheless, Scully had learned through years of danger and disappointment to trust no one.

"I entered the FBI academy right after medical school. I finished basic training at Quantico. Walter Skinner was my training instructor. I was never actually an active agent. I decided that I had the most to offer as a full-time practicing surgeon and returned to my residency. I have security clearance, but technically I'm considered a _medical consultant_. Most of the time I'm just your ordinary surgeon."

Scully doubted anything about the self possessed, clearly accomplished woman was ordinary. The fact that she called AD Skinner by his first name, and he tolerated it, spoke to the fact that she was not just a casual bureau consultant. Scully wondered just how much Marsh Black knew about her.

"I don't suppose you know anymore about what happened?" Scully asked. *And you probably wouldn't tell me if you did*

"I'm afraid I don't. The autopsies are still underway on the victims, and most of the survivors don't remember much more than you do. I take it your amnesia has not improved?"

Scully shook her head in disgust. "I remember waking up, and being agitated, as if there were somewhere I needed to be. Then nothing but fragments that might have been a dream. The next thing I can recall for certain was looking up and seeing your face."

Marsh heard the tremor in her voice and leaned forward to take her hand. "I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you. There's a very good chance you'll remember more. I know it's hard, but try to be patient with yourself."

Unconsciously Scully tightened her grip on the fingers that circled her own. She remembered the warmth they had given her in the cold early dawn. They were warm now too, and reassuringly steady. In fact everything about Marsh Black seemed solid and safe. She was so used to taking care of herself, and keeping her fears and her pain a secret. Her mother and Mulder were the only people who ever touched her, and that was a rare occurrence. She didn't welcome comfort, she knew, but it had become a habit for her to protect herself physically and emotionally, even from those she loved. For some reason right now, she didn't want to let go of the hand in hers.

"Mulder thinks I should try regression hypnosis," Scully said quietly.

"That might work," Marsh said carefully. She edged her chair nearer the bed, and rested the fingertips of her other hand lightly on Scully's forearm. There was a slight quiver in the firm muscles beneath her fingers. "Mulder--he's your--partner?"

"My partner, my best friend, and probably the one person best equipped to figure out what the hell is going on."

*And lover? Did you leave out lover? As if it would make any difference for you one way or the other, Black*

Marsh struggled to hold onto her objectivity. She hadn't been able to get the injured FBI agent out of her mind all day. She had been captivated by her four years ago, drawn to her unique combination of steely determination, unshakable certainty, and undeniable competence. Those qualities remained, but there was something else now, something more elusive. There was a hint of sadness, a flicker of loneliness, in her beautiful blue eyes when she thought no one could see. Dana Scully was unbelievably strong, unbelievably beautiful, and unbelievably desirable. Marsh couldn't remember ever having been so affected by anyone. And thinking that way could only mean trouble for her.

Marsh hoped her voice did not betray the tightness in her chest. "I have a feeling you're not going to be satisfied until you do something to get to the bottom of this. Medically there's no contraindication to the hypnosis. Just be sure you use someone who is qualified. You've been through a lot."

Scully leaned back against the pillows with a sigh. "I don't suppose you have any experience with it, do you?"

Marsh laughed, a full rich sound that Scully found soothing. "I'm a surgeon, remember? If I can't see it, I can't treat it."

"Now why don't I believe that?" Scully asked drowsily. Despite her anxiety, she felt calm and unusually peaceful. The last thing she heard before she finely surrendered to sleep was Marsh's gentle laughter.

Marsh sat motionless until she was certain the exhausted woman was soundly asleep. She gently disengaged her fingers from the pale hand that gripped hers with surprising strength. She resisted the urge to brush the errant strand of hair from her cheek. It was an innocent desire, but she feared it might be a touch she would never forget.

**********

The next morning 7 a.m.

Marsh knocked on the door to room 301. A clear voice called for her to enter. She stopped just inside and gazed at the woman who stood before the window. Someone must have brought her clothes, for she looked impeccable in a gray silk suit, a white scooped neck blouse, and low black heels. "The nurses said you wanted to see me."

Scully turned with a smile at the sound of the now familiar voice. She was inordinately pleased to see the tall, lean woman whose smile seemed to echo her own. She looked tired, as Scully knew she did herself, but there was a welcome in her eyes that was unmistakable. Scully tried to ignore the slight flush she felt rise to her cheeks. *Probably a slight fever from the burns*

"I'm leaving," Scully said, suddenly feeling shy. "I--I just wanted to say goodbye before I left, and to thank you."

Marsh shrugged slightly. "No thanks are necessary, Dr. Scully. I'm only happy that your injuries weren't more serious."

"Please, call me Dana. Or Scully if you prefer." Scully laughed selfconsciously. "Actually it seems that the only person in my life who calls me Dana anymore is my mother."

"That seems like excellent company--Dana," Marsh said lightly. "Then you must call me Marsh."

They looked at one another as the silence between them grew heavy.

"Are you--"

"I should--"

They both laughed, breaking the tension. Each took a step forward until they stood in arm's reach. Their eyes held, crystalline blue to smokey gray.

Marsh spoke first. "Are you going through with the hypnosis?"

"Yes, later today."

"Be careful." Marsh reached for her hand, meaning only to offer support. She was ambushed by the unexpected combination of Dana's warm skin and captivating smile. She stifled a gasp as her legs trembled.

Scully sensed her genuine concern, and at the touch of Marsh's hand, something stirred deep within. The connection she felt defied reason, and should have been frightening. But it wasn't, in fact she couldn't remember the last time she felt anything so intensely. She didn't want to let go, but there were things she must do.

"I have to go," Scully whispered softly.

"Yes, I know," Marsh said reluctantly, releasing her fingers and stepping aside. She watched wordlessly as Scully gathered her things and moved toward the door. She hadn't meant to, but it happened before she could prevent it. "Dana!" she called.

Scully turned, her hand on the door. There was a yearning on the surgeon's face that called to something in her. "What is it?" she gently inquired.

"Will you call me--when you can? Just to let me know you're okay."

Scully nodded. "Yes, I will." Then she turned resolutely away, pushing through the door and moving quickly down the hall. Mulder was waiting, she had work to do, and questions to answer. As her mind turned to the challenges that faced her, she brushed her thumb lightly across her palm. It still tingled where Marsh Black's fingers had rested.

********

Mulder looked over as Scully slid into the front seat of the bureau car. "So, Scully," he said lightly. "Are you ready for your mind probe? Dr. Werber said he could see us later this morning."

"Mulder," Scully said wearily, "Right about now I'm ready for snake charmers, palm readers, or stargazers. Anything is better than not knowing."

Mulder took his eyes off the early morning traffic to glance at his partner. She looked tired and worn. He had seen her in almost every situation, including near death, and he knew she was suffering now. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea, Scully. We can always do this some other time."

"No," Scully said with finality. "If there's a chance this might work, I want to try it. There's more than just my peace of mind at stake. Remember, Cassandra Spender is still missing."

"There's no guarantee if you remember what happened to you it will help us find Cassandra," Mulder pointed out.

"I know that, but I've got to try. Too many things have happened to me without explanation. I can't just let this go," Scully said in a low, tight voice. "Besides," she said in a lighter tone, "I have a doctor's note that says it's okay for me do this."

"Ah, yes," said Mulder provocatively. "The remarkable Dr. Black."

Scully looked at him suspiciously. After all this time she knew when he had some choice bit of information he was savoring. "What do you mean? Mulder, what have you been up to?"

"Who me?" Mulder asked innocently. A quick look at Scully's face convinced him she was not in the mood for banter. "I noticed her in a head-to-head with Skinner yesterday, and I was curious. Let's just say I'm none too trusting of strangers these days. A little background check was simple. Marshall Ellen Black, grand daughter of Marshall Allen Black, one of the scions of the Boston banking scene. She was one of those seven-day wonders, kind of like you Scully. You know, graduating early from high school, accelerated medical school curriculum, beating out all the other kids for a place at the head of the class. Word has it the bureau recruited her hard, and then just when it looked like she would be the new golden girl, she ups and leaves the program. A great disappointment apparently."

"Sounds more like you, Mulder," Scully said sarcastically. She wasn't in the mood to hear bureau gossip about Marsh Black. *Marshall - I like it*

Mulder laughed, accepting the jibe good-naturedly. "Well, we do have one thing in common. We both like girls."

Scully fixed him with a look that made most suspects shiver. "For God's sake Mulder, repeating things like that can be dangerous."

Mulder looked chagrinned. Scully was more sensitive then he'd ever seen her. "You know I would never say anything like that to anyone but you. I couldn't care less who she dates. Well, I might if I had to compete with her--I'm afraid she might win."

Scully sighed. "Never mind, Mulder. You have your own unique charms." She fell silent and mercifully Mulder left her to her own thoughts. There was no way she could have explained to him how his news affected her. She wasn't sure how to explain the sudden pounding of her heart to herself.

Part Three

One week later

"This is Dr. Black. I was paged to this number?"

"It's Dana Scully, Dr. Black."

Marsh caught her breath. She had never expected to hear from the red-haired FBI agent again. Even though she checked her answering machine the minute she walked in the door of her apartment, and looked for excuses to drop by the pathology department hoping the forensics expert might be there reviewing evidence, she never really thought that Dana Scully would contact her again. She couldn't imagine why the self-sufficient, independent, not to mention beautiful, woman would have the slightest interest in her. She forced herself to answer calmly.

"How are you, Dana? And it's Marsh, remember?"

Light laughter washed over her like the sun breaking through the clouds. Marsh could envision those full red lips turned up in a smile, and the sparkle in her amazingly blue eyes. The image was enough to throw her body into turmoil. *This is very definitely not good*

"Of course I remember. I was here looking for some of the autopsy reports from Ruskin Dam, and I thought I might take you to lunch." Scully knew very well the excuse was thin. She could have had the reports faxed to her office, but she had been thinking about the intense young trauma surgeon all week, and she finally gave in to the urge to call her. As the silence lengthened, she thought perhaps she had made a mistake. Maybe Marsh Black hadn't really meant it when she asked her to call. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"No! No!" Marsh nearly shouted. "I mean, this is a perfect time. I was just going off call, and I would love to have lunch with you. Should I meet you somewhere?"

"I'm just downstairs in the lobby. Why don't I wait for you, and we can walk somewhere."

"I'll be right there," Marsh assured her. She hurried to change, stuffing her gear haphazardly into her small duffel bag. She feared she might have imagined the entire phone call, and that when she got to the lobby it would be empty. She knew she was foolish to hope, but she was having a hard time exercising her usual control. Just the sound of Dana's voice on the phone had made her wet.

**********

That same day 12:15 p.m.

Marsh saw her immediately. She was standing just inside the revolving doors of the lobby, wearing a tailored maroon jacket over black slacks. Her hair fell gently forward on either side of her face, and a string of small pearls accentuated the long sweep of her neck. She looked composed and entirely breathtaking. Marsh crossed the tiled expanse of the room slowly, taking the opportunity to appreciate her. She knew Dana Scully was watching her _watch her_. She got the distinct feeling that the self composed FBI agent knew exactly what she was thinking. *That's crazy, Black. If she knew what you were thinking, she'd be out the door*

Scully felt herself grow warm under the appraising eyes of the woman who approached. There was nothing inappropriate, or even particularly obvious, in the way she looked at her, but Marsh Black somehow made her feel like the only person in the room. She wasn't used to that kind of attention, but it wasn't at all unpleasant.

Marsh stopped within touching distance, but she did not reach out to her. "Hi," Marsh said softly, her eyes never leaving Scully's face.

"Hi," Scully responded, amazed at the tightness in her throat. She took a breath, reminding herself this was a simple luncheon between two professional acquaintances. *Then why does it matter so much that she's glad to see me?*

"You look wonderful. How do you feel?" Marsh asked.

Scully shrugged, surprised to find that she was without her headache for the first time all week. "I'm fine. I'm pretty hungry though."

Marshall laughed, that same deep easy laugh that Scully remembered so clearly. "I hope you don't mind something casual. I'm not exactly dressed for anything else."

Scully thought Marsh Black looked just fine in her charcoal flannel trousers and loose white silk open-collared shirt. In fact, so far she hadn't seem her in anything she hadn't liked. She had the kind of lean athletic body that looked equally good in tattered jeans or power suits. "I think you look more than presentable, and I would be delighted to take you anywhere. What's your pleasure?"

Marsh was momentarily at a loss for words, and mortified to find herself blushing. *Oh god, I hope she can't read my mind* "There's a really good Indian restaurant up the street. Does that sound okay?"

"Perfect."

********

Marsh leaned back in her chair, thoroughly satisfied following an excellent meal and an hour of pleasant conversation during which she and Dana had shared stories about medical school and Marsh had described her current work at Memorial. As if by unspoken agreement, they avoided any discussion of the recent events that brought them together, nor did they touch on Marsh's past with the bureau.

"It's been a long time since I've done anything like this," Scully remarked.

"Why is that?" Marsh questioned gently.

Scully shrugged. "Too much work, too much travel--too many things no one except Mulder could understand."

There it was again, the partner thing. *It will hurt a lot less if you find out now* She waited until the waiter brought their espresso, then asked, "This Mulder--is he your lover?"

Scully raised the small cup to her lips, surprised that she didn't find the question more surprising. She had been searching for a delicate way to find out more about Marsh's personal life. She had enjoyed their discussions about medicine, but she felt they were only skimming the surface of waters so deep they might never touch bottom. If she needed to be the one to go first, she would. Something told her it would be worth it.

"I suppose more people than I realize think we're lovers. After all, when a man and a woman work so closely together, it's almost expected. And then of course, neither of us has much of a personal life. It would make sense for us to sleep together. At least it would be convenient."

"I take it that's a no?"

Scully laughed at her own evasiveness. *God, Mulder really is rubbing off on me* "That is most definitely a _no_. Don't misunderstand me, I think the world of Mulder. I'm closer to him then to my own brothers, and closer than I've ever been with any lover. It just never happened between us, and now I can't imagine that it could without somehow completely changing our relationship. He's the only person who really knows what my life is like any more, and sometimes the only person who understands."

"He sounds very special. I'm glad you have him."

Scully laughed. "I think I forgot to mention that he is also the most obstinate, infuriating, inflexible man I have ever met."

"Sounds like every surgeon I've ever met," Marsh commented with a smile.

"What about you? Anyone special?" Scully asked softly.

*Well, there it is* Marsh searched Scully's face for some clue as to how to respond. All she found was the same welcoming warmth she had seen in her expressive face all afternoon. There really was no point in pretense. "There hasn't been anyone serious for a very long time. I made the mistake of getting involved with a field agent when I was a trainee. It didn't work out."

Scully nodded, lost in memory. "I know what you mean," she said at length. "I got involved with my training instructor. We would have made better friends then we did lovers, and of course once we were no longer lovers, we couldn't be friends. There have been a few not altogether satisfactory encounters since then, but there really hasn't been room for anyone in my life since I started work with Mulder."

Marsh cleared her throat and forced herself to hold Scully's gaze. "The story I told you the other night about leaving the bureau is the official version, but it isn't quite the whole story. I did get involved with a field agent when I was a trainee. She was killed during a hostage rescue attempt. Skinner knew about our relationship, and I'm not sure who else. I wanted out after that, and they let me go. I'm not sorry I left."

Scully had a feeling her next words might be the most important ones she ever spoke to this woman. There were so many things she wanted to say, and to ask. "I am so sorry. I know how hard it is to lose someone you love."

Marsh had been holding her breath, and as she slowly released it, the tension in her body began to ebb. "Thank you." She wasn't sure what kind of response she had been expecting, but the empathy and acceptance in Dana Scully's voice were undeniable. Marsh was relieved to be sure, but more than anything else, she felt comforted. Suddenly the day seemed brighter. Taking a chance, she asked, "I think we're both due a little relaxation. There is an Annie Liebowitz retrospective across town I've been meaning to see for weeks. Do you have to get back to the office, or could you sneak away for a few hours and see it with me?"

Scully couldn't remember the last time she had done something spontaneously for herself. There was a pile of paperwork that needed to be done for their quarterly report, but she could finish that on Monday. It was Friday afternoon, and she had done nothing but work since her release from the hospital. The thought of doing something totally unrelated to an x-file, or a dead body, was practically exhilarating. "I'd love to go. Can we walk?"

Marsh laughed. "It's three miles."

"Well, I suddenly have the afternoon free. Let's go."

Marsh rose to follow her to the door, ignoring the warning bells ringing in her head. Of course she knew that Dana only wanted company and an excuse to escape for a little while. She should be safe enough as long as she kept that fact clear in her mind, right?

**********

5: 15 p.m.

"How did it get so late?" Scully exclaimed as they neared the end of the exhibit.

"I think we lost an hour arguing over which was her best Rolling Stone cover."

"That wasn't an argument. That was a _discussion_!" Scully corrected with a smile. "And besides, there's absolutely no question. It's the Lennon/0no photograph."

Marsh shook her head in mock disagreement. "I do believe I've heard that comment once or twice before this afternoon. You obviously are a woman of strong opinions, but fortunately I can always argue that art is in the eye of the beholder."

"That is begging the issue!" Scully replied archly, enjoying their easy banter.

"That is diplomacy," Marsh said with a laugh. "Besides, I happen to agree with you, even though it was fun debating the point. There's hardly any of her work that I don't think is great. If I ever take one photograph half as remarkable as the negatives she probably throws away, I'll be happy."

Scully looked at her in surprise. "Are you a photographer, too? In addition to being chief of service at a disgustingly young age, and a special consultant to the FBI, that is." To her amazement, Marsh looked away shyly. *She doesn't seem to have any idea how remarkable she is*

"I don't call myself that. My mother gave me a hand-me-down Brownie camera when I was ten. I've been taking pictures ever since. It forces me to stop thinking about myself, and reminds me that there is more to life than trauma and the operating room. When I've seen too many kids killed by drugs or guns, I take my camera into the park." She laughed selfconsciously. "I've got a lot of pictures of squirrels."

"I haven't walked in the park in years, but it's a great place to escape to," Scully agreed. "Will you show me your photos someday?"

Marsh nodded. "Sure," she answered quickly, not believing for a moment that they would ever share another afternoon like this. She reached for the gallery door, pushing it opened as Scully preceded her.

"Oh damn! It's pouring!" Scully exclaimed, peering out from under the short awning that was protecting them from the downpour. "And of course, my car is in the hospital garage all the way across the city!"

"My place is practically around the corner," Marsh said, turning up the collar of her light blazer against the chill March air. "We can pick up my car and I can drive you back to the hospital."

"That's way too much trouble for you," Scully protested.

*Nice move, Black. She probably thinks it's a pick up line*

*Oh good, Scully. Now she probably thinks you can't wait to leave* And nothing could be further from the truth. For the last five hours, Scully hadn't thought about work, the sudden devastating turns her life had taken, or the forces that seemed to threaten her from every side. Marsh's company had given her the respite she needed, and she wasn't quite ready to return to her empty apartment and face the many questions that echoed throughout the lonely rooms. Besides, she was quite enjoying this particular company.

"We can call you a cab-" Marsh offered.

"No," Scully said quickly. "Let's go to your place."

Marsh pulled off her blazer and spread it out over their heads like a small tent. "Get under here, and let's make a run for it."

Scully reached her arm around Marsh's narrow waist, leaning close to her to get as much shelter from the rain as she could. "Ready when you are."

Marsh was acutely aware of Scully's body pressed against hers, and the warm hand resting just above her hip. That was all it took to make her tremble. *Jesus, just forget it! It doesn't mean anything to her!* She decided there would be time enough to worry about her runaway emotions when they were dry. "Hang on!" she said as she led them out into the deluge.

Part Four

6:10 p.m. A few blocks away

Scully followed Marsh through the side entrance of a three story brownstone, up an enclosed staircase, and through the arched second floor doorway. She stopped just inside, aware that she was dripping on the highly polished hardwood floors. She craned her neck to see up into the clerestory ceiling. Portions of the floor above had been removed, opening much of the lower space all the way to the exposed rafters two stories up. The rear of the area was all windows which overlooked the park on the opposite block. The remaining portions of the third floor formed a loft reached by a carved wooden spiral staircase. The soaring height and open space of the room was exhilarating. Scully continued to look about in appreciation as Marsh touched a match to several logs in the fire place.

"This place is amazing!" Scully exclaimed as Marsh crossed the room to take her coat.

Marsh smiled shyly. "Thanks. Can I get you a drink, or do you need to go right away?"

Scully glanced down at her dripping slacks and wet stockings. "I'd love a drink, but I'm going to have to borrow something dry," she said.

"Why don't you stand in front of the fire where it's warm, and I'll go upstairs and find you a change of clothes."

Scully watched her cross the room and climb the staircase, admiring her easy graceful movement. *A panther* She stared into the fire, aware that her emotions had taken an unexpected, but not unpleasant turn. She had sensed Marsh's attraction all afternoon, even though Marsh was the epitome of propriety. She would turn her head, and find Marsh looking at her with an intensity that practically seared her flesh. It was exciting to be the focus of such desire, and she couldn't ignore the slow rise of arousal that pulsed between her legs. She shook her head, trying to dispel the slight haze of lust. She liked Marsh too much to treat this lightly.

Marsh returned a few moments later with a pair of navy blue sweatpants and a teeshirt adorned with the FBI logo. She had changed into faded jeans and a polo shirt. She offered the clothes to Scully. "I thought this would be familiar. The bathroom is through that door to your left. Is wine okay?"

Scully reached for the stack of clothing gratefully. "Sounds perfect." When she emerged dry and comfortable, she found Marsh seated on the floor in front of the fire place with her back against the leather sofa. She had placed an assortment of fruit, cheese, and crackers along with a chilled bottle of white wine on a low coffee table. Scully took note of the special touches as she stretched out next to her facing the fire. "This is wonderful," she said with a sigh. She sipped the wine and studied Marsh's profile. *I wonder if she knows how attractive she is. She could be a model with those high sculpted cheek bones and magnificent deepset eyes* She didn't bother to ask herself why she was sharing what could only be called a romantic interlude with a woman she barely knew. The why of it was infinitely less important than how she felt being with Marsh Black. She was suddenly reminded of how good it was to laugh, and share ideas, and enjoy the world with another person. *Not just _any_ person -- Marsh. Face it, Dana, you _want_ her to keep looking at you that way*

Marsh turned her head and caught Scully's appraising glance. Dana's face was half in shadows, both alluring and remote. Her eyes were heavy lidded, hazy, and lush with promise. Marsh had to look away. She swirled the wine glass around and around between her long slender fingers. When she spoke, her voice was husky. "I don't know what to do with my hands, I want to touch you so badly."

"What's stopping you?" Scully murmured, acknowledging her own rush of desire. It was immediate, and undeniable. Blood pounded through her head as it beat simultaneously into her clit. The intensity was almost painful. She wanted-- no _needed_-- Marsh to kiss her. She leaned toward the woman who had captivated her with a gentle touch on the hand, but who hesitated to touch her now. "Marsh?" she whispered softly, holding Marsh's eyes with her own feverish gaze, aching for her.

The undisguised want in her beautiful face was more than Marsh could resist. Groaning, Marsh leaned forward to meet her lips.

Scully gasped at the sensation. *Oh my god, how can anyone's lips be so soft?* She parted her own full lips, swollen even further with desire, to admit the warm tongue that tentatively sought entrance. First a gentle probing, then bold strokes against her tongue, along the inside of her lips, reaching further, deeper, demanding a reply. Scully answered with a thrusting search of her own, sliding one hand into the hair at the back of Marsh's neck, holding her head close, keeping her there so she could explore her. She felt the murmurs of pleasure through Marsh's mouth, swallowing the moans, rejoicing in the power and heady thrill of exciting Marsh with her kisses. When Marsh moved her mouth away to place a torrent of kisses along the edge of Scully's jaw and down the side of her neck, Scully felt bereft. She wanted Marsh's lips again, she wanted to be inside her hungry mouth again. She grasped Marsh's head with both hands, raising her face until they were a breath apart. "Don't leave me yet," Scully pleaded, her voice thick with need. "Kiss me - kiss me hard."

"I'm not leaving," Marsh whispered, easing her body closer so that Scully was nestled along her length. She brushed her lips across the fragile lids, trailing her fingertips down Scully's throat, resting her fingers in the hollow above her collarbone. She bent her head, finding Scully's sensitive nipples through her teeshirt. She bit lightly, pulling the taut buds with her teeth, inflaming them with her hot breath. "I want to taste you everywhere."

Scully moaned as Marsh's teeth grazed across her swollen nipples, sending flashes of pleasure to her deepest reaches. Scully pressed into her, aching for the contact, her insides twisting with need. She reached for Marsh's slender hips, pulling her over, guiding the denim clad leg between her thighs. She whimpered at the weight,and the pressure, and the heat that was everywhere at once and nowhere close enough. "I feel like I'm dying," Scully groaned against Marsh's neck, gasping for breath. "I think I might if you don't touch me soon."

Marsh laughed gently, her tongue teasing small circles along Scully's neck toward her ear. She felt Scully shiver against her. "I will -- I want to so much it hurts. You're so beauti--" Marsh jumped, swallowing her words, as Scully slid a hand between them, pressing against the heat between Marsh's thighs. As if she had done it a thousand times, Scully's finger tips found her clit unerringly, massaging her skillfully. Marsh's mind was melting, every nerve ending twitching. "Don't," she managed to force through clenched teeth, "you'll make me come. Please--"

"You're so swollen I can feel you through your jeans," Scully moaned against Marsh's lips, her tongue finally returning to the pulsating sanctuary of Marsh's mouth. She stilled her hand, but kept it cupped between Marsh's legs while she continued her kisses with bruising intensity. Once again she was lost in the heat of their dueling tongues, when Marsh wrenched her face away. "What?" Scully exclaimed.

"I need you naked," Marsh managed, her vision hazy, her senses eclipsed by the fire consuming her. She fumbled with Scully's shirt, raising her hips automatically when she felt Scully's hands on the buttons of her fly. Suddenly they were a tangle of arms and legs, kicking out of jeans and sweatpants, stripping off teeshirts, tossing articles of clothing mindlessly into the room. Marsh reached blindly behind her with one hand, pulling down an old quilt, spreading it on the floor and easing Scully onto it. She straddled Scully's thighs, supporting her own weight on her extended arms, staring down at Scully's face, a mesmerizing chiaroscuro of shadows drawn by the flickering light of the fire. Her throat was dry, and she was literally speechless with wonder. Scully's eyes were open, watching her, her lips parted in anticipation. Slowly, Marsh lowered herself until there was no space between them, reveling in the soft cry the contact wrought from Dana. She trembled with the effort of restraining her raging passion. As much as she wanted to take her, to make her cry out with pleasure, she wanted to make it last. She wanted to imprint every sensation, every sound, every sigh--so that if this were the only time, it would be burned into her memory and every cell of her being.

*She's exquisite-and she has no idea* Scully trailed her fingertips down the firm muscles in Marsh's arms, finally clasping her sensitive surgeon's hands where they lay against her skin. "I'm so ready for you. Don't make me wait any longer."

"No," Marsh murmured, easing her fingers into the welcoming wetness between Scully's legs. She groaned deep in her chest as Scully cried out, hips surging upward. "Tell me what you like," she whispered, slowly stroking the length of her, parting the hot, smooth flesh, brushing lightly over the distended apex. She increased the pressure slightly, circling her quivering clit, pressing, then withdrawing.

"Anything," Scully gasped, "you can do anything. Ohhhhh, yesss---oooh, god, you're good!"

Scully's thighs grew tight under her, straining with the mounting tension in her pelvis. Marsh felt it, knew it for what it was, and forced herself, with tremendous effort, to ease her fingers away.

Scully cried out in protest at her withdrawal, her body twitching, her back arched--dangling at the precipice of release. Her voice was ragged, breaking with the strain. "Please, I need to come--please let me come."

Marsh nearly lost it. She tightened her legs around Scully's thigh, pressing herself against the firm flesh. She was fully aroused and distended; the slightest movement sent currents of pleasure coursing through her. The need in Scully's voice was almost enough to send her over the edge. Her hips began thrusting of their own accord. She pressed her lips to Scully ear. "Soon, soon I promise. I want to taste you. I want you to come in my mouth."

Scully twisted her hands in Marsh's hair, forcing her head up. "Do it now," Scully demanded urgently, her eyes pleading. "Please--put your lips on me."

Marsh couldn't have resisted longer even had she wanted to. She was threatening to explode herself, and she wanted to be as close to Dana as possible when it happened. She pushed herself downward, lying between Scully's legs, searching for her with her lips. She had meant only to kiss her lightly, but at the first taste of her, her control collapsed. She couldn't take her deep enough, couldn't absorb her fast enough, couldn't satisfy a need so long unfulfilled soon enough. Dimly she heard Dana call her name, but all she knew was the essence of her as she consumed her--drawing her in with her lips, driving her with her tongue, filling her with insistent strokes. As Dana strained upward against her mouth, desperately seeking satisfaction, Marsh began coming. She whimpered with the contractions, sucking harder at Dana's bursting flesh, pushing her higher, until they were crying out as one, convulsing together.

Marsh had no idea how much time passed as they lay gasping, the distant crackling from the fire and the faint rasping of their breath the only sounds in the room. Finally she pushed herself upward until she could rest her forehead between Dana's breasts, her hands curled loosely around Dana's arms. "Lord, you're fantastic," she managed.

Scully's limbs felt too heavy to lift, but with effort she managed to drag her arm upward and drop her fingers into Marsh's damp hair. Her eyes were half opened, and she stared upward into the dark recesses of the high vaulted ceiling, stunned. *When has anyone ever made me feel so good?* She trailed her fingertips down over the prominent cheek bones, finding the corner of Marsh's mouth. She pressed a finger to her lips and was rewarded with a soft kiss. "You're pretty amazing yourself."

"Do I need to tell you that I've never done anything quite like this before?" Marsh questioned softly, slowly rolling onto her side, one hand gently resting on Dana's stomach. The muscles under her hand contracted at her touch.

"You can tell me anything you want to, but it's not necessary. What I felt, what you made me feel, is all that matters."

Marsh leaned up on an elbow so that she could look at her. The sharp, pristine angles of Dana's face were softened by the fire light and the lingering lassitude from their lovemaking. To her amazement, she felt herself swell again and begin to throb. Her throat suddenly dry, she whispered, "Will you stay with me tonight?"

Scully clasped her neck, pulling her down, claiming her lips. After kissing her thoroughly, she replied forcefully, "Only if you promise to make love to me again."

Marsh closed her eyes, closed her mind to the warning bells, and gave herself over to Dana Scully's irresistible request.

**********

5:15 a.m.

Sometime in the night they had finished the wine and the cheese and crackers. They had managed to separate long enough to make their way up the spiral staircase to the king-sized bed on the loft level. Naked, wrapped in each other, they had finally slept.

Scully opened her eyes, stretched out her arm, and felt the depression in the adjoining pillow where Marsh's head had been. It wasn't yet light, but the first graying of the dawn was visible through the skylight above her head. She was surprised that she hadn't felt Marsh leaving the bed. It had been so long since she had slept beside anyone, this should have felt strange. What was strange was how natural it had been to slide her arm around Marsh's waist, lay her cheek against Marsh's breast, and simply close her eyes. For a few brief moments she had been aware of Marsh's strong, gentle fingers stroking her face, her neck, her breasts before she slipped into sleep. The only sensation she was aware of now was missing her.

Scully slid her legs out from under the quilt and searched the room for something to wear. Her own damp clothes were in the downstairs bathroom, along with her holster and Sig Sauer. The clothes she had borrowed from Marsh what seemed like a lifetime ago were probably still strewn around the living room. She pulled a robe from the back of a nearby chair and went in search of her errant companion. She found her seated on a small love seat in front of the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the park.

"Was I snoring?" Scully asked lightly, curling up in the corner of the couch opposite Marsh. She rested one hand lightly on Marsh's shoulder, wanting the connection.

Marsh turned, threading her fingers through Scully's. "No," she said gently. "I couldn't sleep. Too many questions."

"About me?" Scully probed gently. *She's worried. How come I'm not?*

Marsh sighed, lifting the back of Scully's hand to her cheek, rubbing it lightly against her skin. "You feel so good," she murmured. "It hurts how much I want you."

Scully tugged her hand away reluctantly. "I seem to be at the stage where all I have to do is look at you to want you, and touching you makes me crazy. So talk to me while I still have some sense left."

Marsh regarded her seriously. "We've met before, you know. You came into the trauma admitting area with two guys who had been shot in a bank hold up. That's when I first saw you. You were so certain, so focused--I couldn't look away from you. I've seen dozens of other doctors do exactly what you did, but your face stayed with me for weeks. You were all I thought about."

"I don't remember you," Scully said, even now aching at the memory. "That was Jack Willis--the training instructor I told you about. I wasn't in love with him, but I cared about him, and I couldn't let him die."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize who he was," Marsh said quickly, slipping one arm around Dana's shoulders. "I heard that you ended up in a hostage situation, and he was killed.

"Yes," Scully said, once more in control. *She doesn't need to know how close he came to killing me*

Marsh caressed the faint mark left on Scully's cheek from the burn. "That day at Ruskin Dam, I saw dozens of patients, but yours was the only face I saw clearly. It was as if I was there just for you."

Scully curled against Marsh's side, threading her arms around her waist. "I'm so glad you were there."

Marsh drew her close, needing the comfort of her presence. "Do you think things happen for a reason? Or is life just a series of random events, chance encounters that have no greater meaning?" Marsh queried as she stared out into quiet park.

"I don't know if there is some master plan that we have no knowledge of," Scully said softly. "What we do with the events in our lives--that's what matters. I never expected to meet you, and I certainly never expected to make love with you. Last night for perhaps the first time in my life, I followed my heart, instead of a voice in my head telling me what I should do. In the evac tent I wasn't sure where I was, or what had happened to me. I was more than just physically cold, I was isolated, so alone. Your touch, your voice--called me back from some terrible place. Was that a random event--a chance encounter? Maybe. Or maybe it was meant to happen this way. Whatever connection occurred in those few minutes was still there when I woke up. To find you there beside me, to hold your hand, made sense in a way words can't explain. I missed you as soon as I walked out the door, and all week I wanted to see you again. I asked myself why, and I had no good answer. Finally I called you because I had to--because it felt right."

Marsh closed her eyes as Scully spoke. She didn't want her to see the fear in them. *God, I want this to be true*

Scully watched the emotions play across Marsh's face--uncertainty, disbelief, resistance. *Please let her believe me* She took Marsh's face in both hands, forcing her to look at her. "Tell me what you're afraid of."

Marsh looked deep into Scully's eyes, admitting, "For fifteen years I've had two absolute rules I've never broken. All I had to do was look at you and they went right out the window. That scares the hell out of me."

Scully couldn't help but smile. *I think I might have broken a few for you too* She waited.

Marsh leaned forward to press her lips to Scully's forehead. "After Karen died I promised myself never to get involved with another FBI agent again." Her voice was low, but Scully detected the tremor in it.

"Oh Marsh, I'm sorry. There are no guarantees about the future, but I'll do my best not to let that be what comes between us." She tilted her head to brush her lips across Marsh's. Just that quick contact brought a flood of arousal. She kept her voice steady with effort. "And what's the second rule?"

"Never to sleep with a straight girl."

*Now there's a question I don't have such an easy answer for* Scully tried her best to ignore the pulsating heaviness growing in her pelvis. She stroked one finger lightly along the curve of Marsh's breast, visible through her thin teeshirt. Her voice was husky as she murmured, "Define straight girl."

Marsh laughed softly, shifting so that her sensitive nipple brushed along Scully's palm. Her breath caught at the twitch of excitement between her legs. "Someone who sleeps with men," she managed.

Scully pressed closer, nibbling at the warm soft skin below Marsh's ear, slipping her hand under the thin cotton shirt to enclose the taut nipple between her thumb and forefinger. She smiled with satisfaction as Marsh moaned softly. Her own body pulsed in response. "Define lesbian," she gasped as Marsh opened the robe to reach between her legs.

Marsh slid one finger into the wet heat, finding her firm and full, circling the aroused tissues lightly. She was so intent on the incredible sensuousness of Scully's body, she was completely taken by surprise as Dana slipped one hand down the front of her sweatpants. "Oh god," Marsh cried as her hips bucked up into Dana's hand. Just as suddenly as the exquisite sensation began it was gone. She opened her eyes in confusion. "What--," she gasped.

Scully quickly knelt in front of Marsh, tugging at the loose draw string pants as she said urgently, "Define lesbian, Dr. Black."

Marsh could barely think as she's lifted her hips, wanting only for Dana to take her into her mouth. She clenched the soft fabric of the couch in both hands, begging, "Please--" Her voice was nearly a wail.

Scully leaned forward to run her tongue around Marsh's navel, trailing down to be soft hair between her thighs, only a breath away. "Tell me," she demanded, blowing softly across the tip of Marsh's clit.

"A woman who makes love to women," Marsh groaned, opening her legs, offering herself to her lover.

"Thank you," Scully whispered as she lowered her head. Dimly she heard Marsh sob, but she was beyond knowing anything except the blood pounding under her lips, and the exquisite fragrance of Marsh's arousal. She didn't stop when she felt Marsh's first orgasm, or the second, because each time Marsh came her own excitement grew. She groaned in protest when Marsh lifted her head away, pulling her upward, then groaned with pleasure as Marsh cradled her against her chest, holding her securely as she stroked her toward release. She clutched Marsh's shoulders, burying her face against Marsh's neck, barely able to breath.

*oh yes,oh yes,oh yes...* Scully arched her back, tightening her legs around Marsh's hand. "Oh Goddddd...yesssss..." she cried.

Marsh pulled her closer, finding her mouth, drinking in her sobs of fulfillment. When their hearts stopped pounding and the tension in their limbs subsided, they curled around each other on the couch, touching everywhere they could.

"Marsh--" Scully whispered as she nestled her face against Marsh's neck.

"Hmmmm?" Marsh answered, her lips against Dana's forehead.

"That was no chance encounter." Scully said firmly.

"I know," Marsh murmured, daring to hope.

End

 

---

 

Genesis II: Tempered by Fire
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

A Saturday 2:23 pm

Scully was certain she did not have the ability to orgasm again. But she thought that the last time, and the time before that. She had lost track of the hours, her muscles long since having ceased to function, her bones slowly dissolving. *My mind will be the next to go* She didn't have the energy or the inclination to tell Marsh to stop whatever it was she was doing with her tongue. The pressure was building, her hips were beginning to rock, and she heard herself making the sounds she made when she was about to come.

"Ahh...ahh...ahh..." She gripped Marsh's fingers, squeezing them with the rhythm of the blood pulsing in her pelvis. So close, ready to explode--*_What_ is that????* Dimly a persistent noise penetrated her consciousness, forcing her back from the brink of orgasm. "Marsh," she gasped, too conditioned to ignore it, "what is ringing?"

Marsh groaned, about to come herself from the urgent movement of Dana's leg between her own. She raised her head a fraction, "My beeper." Then she pulled Scully into her mouth again, not caring who might be calling. All she wanted was one more minute and she would bring them both off.

"That's not your beeper! That's my phone!" Scully exclaimed, rolling out from under Marsh. "Where is the damn thing," she groaned, standing none too steadily.

Marsh pressed her forehead to the mattress, cursing softly as she tried to ignore the insistent throbbing between her legs. Her fingers strayed to her clitoris. It was so hard, and it felt so good to touch it. In another second she would come. *Like the last ten years? Wait for her, you fool!* She dragged her hand away. "It's with your clothes on the window seat," she finally managed as Scully ransacked the room.

Scully tore through the neatly arranged pile, snatched up the phone, and collapsed back on the bed. "Sorry," she whispered to Marsh, pulling Marsh's head onto her lap with one hand while pushing the on button on her cellular with the other. She stroked the damp hair back from Marsh's face as she announced, "Scully."

"Scully? Where are you?"

Scully straightened slightly. "Mulder! What's going on?"

"You didn't come back to the office yesterday--"

"Mulder--it's Saturday morning. Why are you calling me?"

"It's Saturday _afternoon_, Scully," Mulder said pointedly.

Scully felt Marsh tremble against her. *Damn, she was ready to come, too!* Trying to control her exasperation, she said through clenched teeth, "Whatever, Mulder. What's the matter?"

"Well, there _is_ a lot of paperwork and I was wondering if you were coming in."

*He's bored and he wants company* Scully gazed down the long expanse of Marsh's toned body, thinking how much she would like to run her hands over every inch of her. "Mulder, it's Saturday. Do we have a new assignment?"

"No, but--"

"Are you in any kind of trouble?"

"No, but--"

"I'll see you Monday, Mulder," Scully said as she pushed the off button. She reached for Marsh, pulling her up until their faces were at the same level. She pressed her lips to the hollow at the base of Marsh's throat as she slid one hand down Marsh's belly into the warmth that was waiting for her below.

Marsh shuddered, gasping, "God, I need to come."

Scully smiled, circling her with slow, teasing strokes, feeling her tense and swell. "I'm sorry about the call," Scully murmured, pressing until Marsh's hips jerked. "Let me make it up to you."

Marsh whimpered as Scully milked the length of her engorged clitoris between her thumb and forefinger, clutching Scully's shoulders with bruising intensity. "Ohh, you're making me come---" Marsh cried, burying her face against Scully's breast.

"Hold on, honey," Scully breathed into her hair, tightening her hold on the quivering woman with her other arm. "Let me make this good for you."

"Can't-- I'm-- coming--" Marsh sobbed as she exploded under Scully's fingers.

*Oh yesssss, so beautiful* Scully pressed her face to the top of Marsh's head, cradling her against her own body as the orgasm shook her. "I've got you, I've got you," she murmured over and over as Marsh trembled. To her amazement, Marsh gripped her wrist with surprising strength and pushed her fingers inside her, closing her legs and trapping Scully's hand. The power of possessing her this way was intoxicating. "Oh, god," Scully moaned, "what you're doing to me."

Marsh groaned as Scully filled her, her hips thrusting as her internal muscles contracted around Scully's fingers. It seemed like hours before she could speak. "I'm going to kill him."

Scully laughed, hugging the lean, dark haired woman. "Not if I see him first."

"Anything serious?" Marsh asked as she finally found the strength to move. She nestled her cheek against Dana's firm belly, slowly trailing her fingers along the inside of Dana's legs from her knees to the silky hair at the base of her thighs.

"Mmmm--"Scully sighed as she shifted slightly and opened her legs. "No. Just weekend blues."

"Good," Marsh replied softly as she slipped a finger along each side of Scully's clitoris. "Because you seem in need of a little attention," she observed as she massaged the exquisitely sensitive shaft rhythmically.

"Unnhh--I don't think so," Scully moaned. "I think you finally wore me out."

Marsh withdrew until only the pad of her finger lightly stroked the tip. "Is that your diagnosis, Dr. Scully?" Marsh countered teasingly. She caught her breath as the tissue under her fingers stiffened. Still she kept her movements feather soft.

"It feels so good--" Scully whispered, her eyes closed, her hands resting on Marsh's hair. "But I don't think I can--"

"Sshhh--" Marsh murmured. "You don't have to. I just want to touch you." Slowly she inched her face down until she could replace her fingers with her lips. Soft, light kisses--barely a breath.

"Oh!" Scully cried as the silken warmth of Marsh's tongue caressed her. She felt herself opening, distending, reaching for Marsh's mouth-- even as she lay still, surrendering to the total abandon of being pleasured. "You're wonderful--"

Marsh drew back enough to look at the flushed, achingly beautiful woman, her heart filled with wonder at the miracle of her presence. *Oh, Dana--if only I could say--* She had no words to describe what this moment meant, so she set about telling her the best way she knew how. She let her body speak to her. Ever so slowly she encircled Dana with her lips, then began to suck gently, alternating the rhythmic motion with soft, long strokes of her tongue. It took tremendous concentration for her to keep the contact light, because just the scent of her drove her wild. As much as she wanted to consume her, she knew Dana needed this time to be gentle, and she wanted to give her that. Tenderly, she worshipped.

"Marsh--" Scully rasped, her entire body coiled with the tension building in her belly. "Don't stop."

Marsh murmured soft assurances, never leaving her.

The room was completely quiet, the air heavy with expectation, when suddenly a piercing cry broke the stillness. "Ahhhhh--" Scully screamed, her hands fisting in the sheets, her back arching off the bed.

Marsh gripped Dana's legs, cleaving to her, moaning as she felt Dana coming. She thought her heart might break with the sheer beauty of her.*I lo--* Marsh closed her eyes tightly. *Don't you _dare_, Black. Don't even _think_ it*

They lay together, Marsh curled around Scully, her face resting on the smooth skin of her thigh. She reveled in Scully's small sounds of contentment, knowing complete satisfaction herself. Scully's fingers drew faint aimless patterns on her skin as they listened to each other breathe.

"Marsh?" Scully said at length.

"Hmmmm?"

"Are you okay?"

Marsh planted a small kiss on the inside of Dana's thigh. "Perfect."

"Good, because I do believe I've perished. If you can die from too much pleasure, I've been gone for a while."

Marsh pushed yourself up on the bed until she was lying alongside Scully, slipping one arm under Scully's shoulders and guiding her head onto her chest. "I can't think of enough words to tell you how wonderful you are. I hope I've been able to show you."

Scully tightened her grip around the whip slender form, brushing her lips lightly over the soft, full breast beneath her cheek. She couldn't seem to stop smiling. "What you've shown me goes beyond description. Unfortunately, you've melted most of my synapses, and I'm incapable of intelligent conversation. This has been the most incredible 24 hours of my life."

Marsh's squinted at the clock on the bedside table. "Actually, it's been a bit more than that. It's almost 5 o'clock in the afternoon."

Scully's eyes widened in amazement. "Have we actually been making love for almost a day?"

"Just about," Marsh laughed, bending to kiss the top of Scully's head.

Scully couldn't begin to absorb that fact. She had never made such a rapid, intense connection with anyone before. She certainly had never given herself physically so completely, even after she had been with someone for a while. If she thought about it now, her world would tilt, and she was much too happy--simply happy--to begin questioning what had happened so soon. "Is this your idea of a date? You spend hours ravishing a poor unsuspecting female, never feeding them so they are too weak to resist?"

Marsh couldn't imagine anyone less likely to be described as weak and unsuspecting. She responded with a chuckle, "That was my plan. Not too subtle I guess."

Scully rolled over onto her stomach so they were face-to-face. She kissed her, a soft but assertively possessive kiss. When she pulled back, her eyes were slightly hazy. "Who needs subtle?" she said in a low, husky voice. *I'm beginning to think I could survive on your kisses alone*

Marsh ran her hands up Scully's sides until her palms cupped her breasts, thumbs just grazing her nipples. Scully sighed, her lips parting slightly, her eyes losing focus. "Marsh," Scully whispered, "stop. Have mercy. I can't resist you. Please, please--I need you to _feed_ me!"

Marsh grinned, raising her head so she could grasp one nipple between her teeth. She bit lightly for an instant, then rolled out from under Scully. "Your every wish is my command."

"You sadist!" Scully exclaimed. "You know you just made me wet all over again, don't you!"

Marsh placed one hand lightly over her heart, raising her eyebrows in mock surprise. "I meant no such thing."

*God, I hope you did, or else I'm in real trouble* Scully bounded off the bed, grasped Marsh by the shoulders, and forcefully turned her towards the bathroom. "_Shower_! _Food_! _Now_!"

**********

7:10 p.m. Saturday evening

"Is this okay?" Marsh asked. She had seen Scully's surprise when they entered the restaurant.

"It's fine," Scully said, looking about the small dimly lit restaurant. The tables were judiciously placed to allow privacy, and the candles and quiet background music added to the intimate atmosphere. Most of the couples were women.

"I didn't mean to make assumptions," Marsh said with concern, aware of the romantic setting. "I just wanted to have a little more time with you some place where we could be comfortable with one another." She'd forgotten for a moment that their encounter probably didn't mean the same thing to Dana that it had meant to her. Just because _she_ felt resurrected did not make this more than a brief interlude for the attractive FBI agent.

Scully reached across the small tabletop and took Marsh's left hand firmly in her own. "Right now I'd be happy to hold your hand on the steps of the Capitol Building. This was probably a better choice."

Marsh smiled faintly, but her eyes were troubled. She studied the fine lattice of delicate veins in Dana's hand as she traced light circles with her thumb along the palm. There was pain in her face when she looked up. "You've never slept with a woman before, have you?"

"No," Scully said, "and that means nothing more than that I never had reason to before. I slept with men-- not many-- because it was the expected thing to do. It wasn't horrible, but the earth didn't move either. Being with you was like finding I could suddenly speak another language--a language I was born to speak. The earth did more than move, it changed shape entirely. There's no going back from here." Her tone suggested she would hear no arguments.

Marsh was already in too deep to pretend it didn't matter. "You mean something to me, Dana. Yesterday, last night -- it felt like a beginning, and in some crazy way, it felt like something I've been meant to do for years. Being with you, waking up with you, making love--I'll never be able to forget that. If it was just a one time thing for you, I understand, but I need to know."

Scully didn't hesitate. "The only things I've ever really trusted were the things I could prove, the _facts_ of my life. These past few years, I've come to doubt even those. I look at you, and for an instant, my life makes sense. Crazy? Absolutely. But true. You are so many things I admire, Marsh -- and in case you haven't noticed, I can't keep my hands off you. This is _not_ a one night stand."

"I'm sorry," Marsh said, knowing she was pushing. "There's no reason you should need to answer these questions."

Scully gave Marsh's hand a little shake. She waited as the waitress dropped off their menus, then said, "If you need to know, that's reason enough."

"Why me?" Marsh asked softly.

Scully searched for words that would make sense to both of them. It wasn't the sex, although that had been spectacular, and it wasn't just Marsh's kindness or her intelligence or her effortless intimacy. It was somehow a combination of all of those things, and something altogether indescribable. *Because there's no one else like you in the world* She raised Marsh's hand to her lips, pressing a brief kiss to her delicate fingers. If there were other people in the restaurant, she was unaware of them in that moment. "You touch my soul."

Marsh shuddered, her eyes closing with the impact of Dana's words. When she could open them without the threat of tears falling, Dana's eyes were searching her face. "You make me dream again," Marsh said, her voice breaking.

Marsh's vulnerability was palpable. Scully doubted she could allow her own need to be so visible; she wasn't sure she was that brave. "I want to hold you so much," Scully whispered.

Marsh's smile was nourishment itself as she nodded towards the approaching waitress. "I'll not be accused of seducing a starving woman again. Dinner first."

Scully loosened her grip on Marsh's hand, acknowledging the waitress with a faint smile, but her mind was filled with images of Marsh Black naked in her arms. *I can't imagine why I ever thought I was hungry for anything but her*

Part Two

Monday 8:55 a.m. FBI headquarters, Washington D.C.

Mulder glanced up and tilted his head. There it was again, the strange sound that seemed to be emanating from his partner. He leaned back in his swivel chair and stared at her. She didn't _look_ any different. Scully was searching MedPac for any obscure references to mass thermal conflagration. Her beige suit was exquisitely tailored as usual, the small gold cross, her only jewelry, glinted on her pale silk blouse, and she peered with utter concentration through her wire rim glasses at the computer screen. *Maybe I'm imagining things* He shrugged his shoulders and reached for his pencil. His hand stopped in mid-air as he heard the unmistakable sound of humming.

"All right, who are you and what have you done with Scully?" he demanded.

Scully turned in her seat, one arm draped along the back. "Are you okay?" she asked, staring at him as if he had lost his mind.

"_ I'm_ fine." Come to think of it, he hadn't seen her look this relaxed in months. Something was up. "Did something happen over the weekend?" *Damn! She's blushing*

"No!" Scully croaked. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Not a thing." She turned back to the computer, hoping he would let it go.

"Sculleeeeeee---" he called in a light annoying sing-song tone. "You're lyiiiiiiiiing."

Mercifully, the phone rang before Scully was forced to reply. Mulder gave her a look that said he wasn't done with her yet as he picked up the receiver. "Mulder."

She tried to read the expression on his face, but he merely replaced the phone with a shrug and announced, "Skinner wants to see us."

She wasn't prepared for what they found when they entered AD Skinner's office. She resorted to the expression she usually reserved for defense attorneys and chauvinistic local police chiefs--one of complete indifference. She hoped it was working, because her insides were quaking.

Skinner nodded for his two agents to join him and his visitor. "I'm sure you both remember Dr. Black?"

Mulder murmured hello as he took the seat between the surgeon and his partner. She looked different in her navy pin-striped suit than she had in the rumpled scrubs he remembered from the hospital. Her layered black hair looked slightly less wind blown, and she had lost the fatigue lines that had creased her otherwise flawless skin, but it was something more than that. She had a self possessed, confident air that suggested she had done this before, and Mulder remembered her easy familiarity with Skinner at the hospital. There was more to Dr. Black than there appeared, and Mulder was instantly suspicious. His partner, he noted, hadn't even said _hello_.

"I asked Dr. Black to come in because I got a strange report from Memorial this morning," Skinner said by way of introduction. He looked toward Marsh. "Maybe you can fill them in."

She shifted in her chair slightly so she could face Mulder and Scully. She smiled at them both, her eyes lingering for just a fraction of a second on Scully. She averted her eyes before she lost her concentration. She hadn't seen her for 24 hours, and it felt like forever. Just being in the same room with her made her heart race. "I was contacted yesterday by the hospital administrator on call--she was concerned because a large number of patients were being discharged under unusual circumstances. It turns out that all of the patients were victims of the fire at Ruskin Dam. All of their medical records, x-rays, lab reports--everything is gone."

Scully risked a quick glance as Marsh spoke. *She's even more beautiful than I remember* She hadn't expected to see Marsh again so soon, and certainly not in Skinner's office. When they parted Sunday morning, they had not made any firm plans. Marsh had kissed her, caressing Scully's cheek gently. She looked into Scully's eyes and whispered softly, "Call me." Scully knew then that Marsh was leaving the future up to her. It was like her to give Scully time to adjust to everything that had happened. *Focus, Scully!* She considered the information. "There must have been some kind of transfer request?" Scully questioned, grateful that her voice was steady.

Marsh shook her head. "I was in the operating room when I got the call. By the time I got out, most of the patients were gone. The medical transport personnel didn't seem to have any specific information, and wouldn't release their transport destination. I'm afraid I don't know much more."

"Dr. Black has agreed to notify us if there is further contact," Skinner informed them.

*Contact? What does he mean by _contact_, and what does it have to do with Marsh!* Scully glanced quickly from Marsh to Skinner. Their expressions revealed nothing. She was used to this from Skinner, as he was a master at concealing his feelings. She hated being distanced from Marsh. It was the first time she experienced it, and it was frighteningly lonely. *My god, if I feel this way after only one weekend!*

Mulder had been unusually quiet during the entire briefing. "I'm sure anything Dr. Black can tell us would be helpful," he said rather sharply.

Skinner gave him an appraising glance. "Right then. Agent Scully, if you would stay for a moment."

Marsh and Mulder stood, clearly having been dismissed. Marsh dared one last glance at Dana and to her surprise, Dana put out her hand. As Marsh returned the handshake, Scully rubbed her thumb in small soft circles over Marsh's knuckles. Marsh caught her breath swiftly as the unexpected touch electrified her senses. Her eyelids fluttered for an instant as she grew wet with arousal. She caught herself before the moan arising from her belly could escape.

"I'll talk to _you_ again, Dr. Black," Scully said, her voice low and husky, her eyes fixed on Marsh. She sensed Marsh's response and her own body stirred. *You are insane, Scully! Mulder and Skinner are two feet away!*

"Yes." Marsh responded thickly. She hoped she looked more in control than she felt as she followed Mulder from the room.

Skinner waited until the door closed behind them before motioning to Scully to sit once again. He leaned back, choosing his words carefully. "How well do you know Dr. Black, Agent Scully?"

"Sir?" Scully asked, her expression carefully neutral.

"I'm assuming that you know she's a former agent. You probably also know she still functions in an unofficial capacity. Unofficial, but nevertheless important." He stared at her impassively, waiting for her response.

"Yes, sir?" Scully replied. She had enough experience with interrogation not to volunteer information. *Why are we discussing her? She can't be involved in this, can she?* Fear raced through her veins at the thought.

"Most of what she does for the bureau is confidential. It wouldn't be in our best interest--or hers--to call attention to her activities."

*He's talking about covert operations* Scully's anxiety made her short on patience. Usually it was Mulder who played these word games with Skinner. "I'm not sure I'm following, sir."

Skinner removed his glasses and polished them with the perfectly folded, pristine white handkerchief he removed from his back pocket. He took his time replacing them. "I don't know what happened to you and the others at Ruskin Dam, Agent Scully. I don't think anyone does. What I do know is that there are forces involved that we can't identify, let alone control. If someone is watching you, then Dr. Black may also come under scrutiny."

*He already knows about us!* After the shock, Scully's first reaction was anger. "Who were you following--me or her?"

Skinner came around the front of his desk and hiked one hip up on the edge. His granite countenance softened infinitesimally. "I don't know. It didn't come from this office. I'm just the unofficial messenger."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, Agent Scully," Skinner said pointedly, "we're not having this conversation."

"Is she in any danger?" Scully asked, her voice steady but her throat terribly dry.

Skinner glanced away, grimacing slightly. "Probably no more than you are."

*Yes, but that is part of _my_ job* Scully squared her shoulders, meeting Skinner's gaze fully. "I appreciate the information, sir."

"Just remember--the survivors disappeared because _someone_ thought they would reveal _something_ about what went on here, and possibly in Russia, too. We don't know who those _someones_ might be, but they're powerful enough to make people disappear. Be alert, Agent Scully," Skinner warned. He stood and Scully took it to mean their meeting was over. She was half way to the door when his voice stopped her.

"One more thing, Agent Scully," he called softly, almost as an afterthought.

Scully turned. "Sir?"

"Sixteen years ago a federal agent by the name of Karen Summers was killed in the line of duty. Marshall Black didn't just resign, she turned in her gun and her badge, and she drove her Porsche into the Potomac." He saw her flinch, and knew what he thought he had detected between them was true. He shrugged, adding, "Maybe it was an accident." He didn't want to know.

Scully struggled to hide her sudden nausea. The idea of Marsh in such anguish was physically painful. Her voice was harsh when she asked, "Why are you telling me this?"

"I like her."

Something hard glinted in Scully's eyes as she stared back. "So do I."

*********

10:30 a.m.

"So Scully," Mulder asked when she rejoined him in their basement office, "what do you think that was all about?"

"I think Skinner wants us to go on a fishing expedition," she said caustically. She was beginning to wonder if everyone around her had a hidden agenda. Everyone except Mulder.

"You think Dr. Black is the hook or the lure?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Scully snapped. She couldn't get the image of Marsh going off a bridge into the dark swirling waters of the Potomac out of her mind. She knew what kind of pain it took to bring someone to that point, she just didn't want to think about the loneliness that must have accompanied it. In her darkest moments, Mulder and her mother had been there for her to hold on to. Without them... *God, how much she must have suffered!*

"Come on, Scully! Who is she? How do we know we can trust her?" Mulder said vehemently. "We don't know who she's _really_ working for!"

Scully tried to control her temper. Mulder had been suspicious of every one since Michael Kritschgau convinced him that most of what he had discovered over the last five years had been an elaborate ruse. Perpetrated by whom for what purpose neither of them understood. She wasn't sure what to believe any longer, but one thing she still trusted was her own experience. Marshall Black was not the enemy.

"You know who she is, Mulder. You told me yourself. She used to be an agent, and now she does some work for the bureau as a consultant."

"What kind of work does a doctor do undercover, Scully? Pretty convenient to have one on the payroll if you want to do a little behind-the-scenes experimentation!"

"In case you haven't noticed, Mulder, Marsh Black is a respected trauma surgeon at a prestigious hospital. And she hardly made her involvement with the bureau a secret. Has it ever occurred to you that she probably spends her time patching up agents injured during _unofficial_ engagements?" Scully countered, her eyes flashing as she slowly lost the battle with her temper.

Mulder was used to Scully's natural skepticism, and most of the time he depended on it to keep his own thinking sharp. It was one of the things he enjoyed most about their partnership. Sometimes, though, she bordered on just plain stubborn. "Why are you defending her?"

"I'm not _defending_her!!"

"Yes, you are," Mulder said softly, watching her with new interest. She wasn't just defending her, she was protecting her. He had never seen Scully quite so agitated either.

"Just trust me on this, will you, Mulder?" Scully responded emphatically.

"What happened this weekend, Scully?" Mulder persisted in the low tone he used when talking to witnesses. The voice that said _You can trust me, tell me your secrets_.

Scully started to protest, then she took a good look at him. His expression was completely open, expectant, nonjudgmental. He simply wanted to understand--because for him _understanding_ was the only goal. He was frequently disappointed, but she had never known him to reject the truth. She valued his friendship, and respected herself, too much to lie about this. He was her partner.

"I slept with her this weekend."

Time stopped. There was no sound. Mulder didn't blink or change expression in any way. He did sit down. He reached for a pencil, turning it end over end between his fingers. His eyes met hers straight on. "Jesus, Scully."

She grinned a little ruefully. "Yeah."

"I didn't know--"

"Neither did I."

"You okay with it?" Mulder asked. Friend to friend.

"Yes." No hesitation.

Carefully, he said, "You don't know much about her." Still suspicious.

"I know enough." Certain.

"How much does she know?"

*About what? The abduction, the cancer, Emily??* Again the slightly proud, slightly sheepish grin. "We didn't do a whole lot of talking."

Mulder was glad he was sitting. "Dana--" He cleared his throat. "I trust your judgement, you know that, right?"

"I know, Mulder." She believed it.

"If it's the real thing, I'm for it. Just be careful, okay?"

"Of what?" Scully asked softly, making him say it.

"You could get hurt. She could break your heart." Thinking of Phoebe, of Diana.

"She won't."

Her blue eyes were clear, calm, and absolutely sure. He had to trust her; she was his partner.

Part Three

Later that day 5:10 pm

"Hey Scully! There's a couple of messages for you," the bureau dispatcher called as she and Mulder walked through the warren of desks and busy agents toward the stairs to their office. He waved a handful of pink message slips in her direction.

"Why don't you go ahead, Scully," Mulder said. "We're not going to get anything else done today. We can go back to the hospital first thing in the morning and finish the questioning."

His tone implied he didn't think they'd find anything, and she agreed with him. No one at Memorial Hospital knew anything about the fate of the missing patients. She had barely been able to keep her mind on the repetitive fruitless interviews they were conducting. Instead she had been looking everywhere for Marshall Black, her disappointment growing with each passing moment. Ever since that morning, all she wanted was to see Marsh and assure herself that she was safe.

"Scully?" Mulder queried.

Scully jumped, realizing he was watching her, waiting for an answer. She looked around the room, disoriented for a moment. "Yes, sure. Good idea," she said hastily.

"Wool gathering, Dr. Scully? Or just a little x-rated reminiscence?" Mulder added with a smirk.

Scully colored, snapping, "Cut it out, Mulder."

He leaned close, smiling evilly, "Ooooo-- but Scully, I finally have a chance to get back at you for all those rude remarks about my videos."

Scully lowered her voice, but her tone was scathing. "I would hardly put Marshall Black and your videos in the same category!"

Mulder raised his eyebrows, his smile growing. "Now there's an idea I hadn't thought of."

"If it weren't so hard to break in a new partner, I'd be forced to shoot you," Scully seethed, although she was struggling not to smile. She was grateful she did not have to hide something so important from the one person she was closest to.

Mulder relented, giving her a little shove in the direction of the dispatcher. "Go on, get your messages and get out of here. I'm sure there's one or two things you'd rather be doing."

Scully blushed again, answering, "You're not going to quit, are you?"

Mulder simply grinned and walked away.

Scully leafed through her messages on her way to her car. Her heart tripped when she saw the familiar name, and she immediately reached for her cell phone. She waited impatiently through the interminable number of connections until she heard the deep, sonorous voice. "Marsh? It's Dana," she said, unable to disguise her excitement.

"I meant to wait for you to call me, but I couldn't. I need to see you. I need to talk you," Marsh replied seriously.

Scully was instantly concerned. "Has something happened? Has someone tried to question you about the missing patients?"

"I'm all right. Can we meet somewhere private?"

"Name the place," Scully said, all business. Something was definitely not right, and she wasn't going to be happy until she could see Marsh.

"My place in 45 minutes?" Marsh suggested.

"I'll be there," Scully assured her.

**********

Marsh held the door open so Scully could proceed her into the apartment. Scully turned just as Marsh reached for her. She lifted her arms to encircle Marsh's neck as Marsh slipped her hands under Scully's suit jacket. Scully pressed close to the taller woman as their lips met, closing her eyes as the sweet sensation of want washed through her. She opened her mouth, seeking the strong demanding tongue, eager for the joining. Scully moaned into Marsh's mouth and pushed Marsh back against the door, her skirt riding up as she straddled Marsh's thigh, her hips slowly rocking against the firm muscles. Her moans became short cries as her clit twitched with pre-orgasmic spasms. *Oh god, Dana, slow down--you _can't_ come already!*

Marsh tugged Scully's blouse from the waist band of her skirt, hungry for her skin. She hesitated for just a second when she encountered the holster clipped to the back. The feel of the heavy weapon in the leather sheath catapulted her back to another time and another woman in her arms. For an instant the old pain pierced her anew. Then she heard Dana's voice, and felt Dana moving against her, and she knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted Dana Scully, and she wanted her now. She growled as she slid her hands under the flimsy bra, grasping the hard nipples at the same time as she clamped her teeth onto Dana's earlobe. Her head threatened to explode when Dana jerked against her, her fingers digging into Marsh's upper arms.

"Marsh-- Marsh--" Scully gasped, "I'm going to come--"

"Yeah," Marsh groaned in her ear. Marsh pushed one hand up under Scully's skirt, pulling clothing aside until she could slide inside of her, her palm cupping her swollen flesh, her thumb riding over the top of her clitoris. Her vision clouded, her arm pumping upward as Dana ground against her. She tightened her hold around Dana's slim waist when the smooth muscles inside closed around her fingers. "Oh, yesss," Marsh rasped, "do it now."

Scully sobbed in a breath as her whole body stiffened, her entire consciousness focused on the nearly unbearable pressure in her clit. Then Marsh thumbed across it hard and she was screaming and bucking and coming and sobbing...

Marsh braced her back against the door, trying to hold them both up, but the best she could manage was to slide to the floor with Dana in her arms, still coming into her hand. "Oh god, oh god, oh god.." Marsh moaned, her chest so tight she could barely breathe. She would die from wanting her.

They ended up in a tangle of body parts, Dana lying between Marsh's legs, curled up on her lap. Marsh rested her chin on the top of Scully's head, trying to catch her breath. The room was dimly lit by the light from the street lamps outside. They hadn't even touched a light switch or said _hello_ before they had fallen on one another. All she wanted to do now was hold her. She had been so frightened all day.

Scully stirred, shifting enough to let Marsh slide her hand from inside her. "Ohh.." she gasped, feeling the loss. "I miss you already," she murmured, "how can that be?"

Marsh shook her head against the silken red hair. "I don't know. I've been walking around since you left yesterday wet from wanting you. I'm so swollen it hurts. I wanted to make myself come, just to ease the pressure, but I knew it would only make me lonely. It's crazy - I've never been like this before."

Scully smiled, pleased. "And how are we now, Dr. Black?" she said teasingly, lightly stroking Marsh's stomach below the bottom of her shirt and the top of her trousers.

Marsh tilted Dana's chin to kiss her. "_We_ are just fine, thank you, Dr. Scully. I think you might have come for both of us."

Scully leaned against Marsh's shoulder so she could watch her face. She worked the zipper down on the silk slacks, reaching under the fabric beneath. She smiled again as Marsh lifted her hips to give her room. "Uh huh," she murmured as she found her wet and ready. Marsh's eyes began closing as Scully rolled her clitoris between her fingers. "Look at me, Marsh," she whispered, her heart nearly stopping as she watched the elegant planes of Marsh's face dissolve with need. *I don't think I can bear it, she's so beautiful* Scully bit her lip to silence her own moans as she pulsed in time with Marsh. "Not until I say," she gasped.

Marsh tried hard to focus, searching Dana's face for an anchor. She found it in her fathomless blue eyes, a strength and certainty so profound, she let herself fall into them. "Tell me when," she cried softly, rigid with the effort of containing her imminent orgasm. "Ohh--I can't hold it!--God--hurry!"

"Ohh--almost--uh-uh-uh..," Scully intoned to the rhythm of their bucking hips, "oh yes, oh yes -- now, Marsh--come with me -- _noooowww_oh,oh,..ooooooohhhhhh." Her vision dimmed as she exploded but she kept her eyes on Marsh, watching the reflection of her own orgasm in Marsh's face.

"Dana..." Marsh murmured, her neck arching with the gripping spasms, her tone a benediction. Scully grasped her face with both hands, pulling her down into a kiss. They were wed for what seemed like an eternity in the swirling kaleidoscope of their twin climaxes. Finally their pounding hearts stilled, their harsh gasps subsided, and they rested in peaceful communion.

Scully stirred first, unable to ignore the questions clamoring in her mind any longer. "Marsh--what's going on? Why were you in Skinner's office this morning? Why did you need to see me?"

Marsh stood, offering a hand to help Scully up. "Come on, let's change and find something to eat. I'll tell you then."

Scully wanted answers immediately, but she reminded herself that Marsh was neither a suspect nor a colleague. She couldn't deal with her in the same way she conducted her professional relationships--she was, after all, her--*why not say it, Dana. Lover--she's your lover* She took Marsh's hand, pulling herself up and sliding her arm around Marsh's waist. She leaned against her slightly, not wanting her too far away. "Okay, food first."

A half an hour later she was standing in Marsh's well equipped galley kitchen watching Marsh put together a passable dinner from odds and ends she found in the refrigerator. She sipped her glass of red wine and watched Marsh's hands as she worked. Her fingers were long and supple, sure surgeon's fingers. She thought in amazement that just a few moments ago those hands had owned her body, inside and out. It was like nothing she had ever experienced, and it was the most natural thing in her life. Scully went to her where she stood working at the counter and pressed against her back, wrapping her arms around her waist. She laid her cheek against Marsh's shoulder, breathing in the faint smells of her shampoo and the aftermath of their love making. "Talk to me, Marsh. I'm worried, and I have to know what's going on."

Marsh carefully placed the chopping knife on the counter, turning in the circle of Scully's arms until they were face-to-face. Her expression was serious, but her eyes were tender. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you. I called Skinner this morning when I couldn't sort out by myself exactly what happened to a dozen of my patients. He asked me to come in to review what information I had on them. I didn't realize he would call you. I'm sorry if that was awkward for you."

"It was only awkward because it was hard to concentrate with you so close, and me wanting to kiss you so badly," Scully said with a small smile. "I would prefer a warning next time so I don't disgrace myself."

"Well, you got back at me with that _handshake_," Marsh replied ruefully. "I'd been thinking about you non-stop for 24 hours. When you touched me like that, I almost came on the spot."

Scully placed her fingers lightly against Marsh's lips. "Don't talk about it, don't even think about it. If you do, we're going to end up making love right here on the floor."

Marsh took a deep breath, afraid of what she was going to discover. "When the bureau calls me, it's usually because they need a doctor with high level clearance. Most of the time I don't know the circumstances, and I've learned not to ask for explanations. This time is different. This time whatever is going on involves you. I need to know why."

"I'm not sure I know myself," Scully replied. "What I've been able to remember doesn't make much sense."

"Your partner seemed very interested in the x-rays of the patients from the fire," Marsh continued. "They've all disappeared, except one set. Yours had been pulled from the general circulation, which isn't uncommon when we admit a law enforcement agent. I looked at them today."

Scully's stomach churned. *So soon? Couldn't we have just a little time to be happy--without all of this?* She searched Marsh's worried eyes and knew it was already too late. Her past was upon them, and would be part of any future they might have. "And that's why you called me," she sighed.

Wordlessly, Marsh turned her around. She lifted the thick, soft hair at the base of Dana's neck. She ran her finger lightly over the inch long vertical scar. The choking fear she had experienced when she first looked at Dana's x-rays and saw the foreign object returned. She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to ask, "What is it?"

Scully leaned back against her, grasping Marsh's hands were they lay encircling her waist. She closed her eyes, envisioning the small metallic chip which was lodged adjacent to her spinal cord. "I don't know. I _ do_ know it saved my life." Marsh's arms tightened around her.

"How?" Marsh questioned, her voice tight.

"Six months ago I nearly died of cancer. That chip somehow induced a remission."

*oh Jesus, please--please don't let me lose her* Marsh closed eyes as the panic escalated, bending her forehead to rest against Scully's hair. She struggled to keep her voice even. "And now?"

Scully flinched. There it was, the question that haunted her waking moments and invaded the landscape of her dreams. She didn't talk about it with Mulder; she didn't talk about it with her mother; she didn't talk about it with her priest. She had to talk about it now, because this woman had held nothing of herself back--she had allowed Dana to see her vulnerability, and her fear, and her need. Marsh had trusted Scully with her body, and her secrets. It was time. "There's no sign of it--so far. I can't predict the likelihood of recurrence because no one has ever seen anything quite like it."

Marsh wanted to curse, to rage against the injustice, to rail against the incomprehensibility of such a thing. She didn't. Instead she kissed the top of Scully's head, then turned Scully to face her. She lifted Dana's face in both hands, aching inside at the pain in her eyes. "I wish I could have been there for you. I'm here now."

Scully pressed a kiss to Marsh's palm. "It's not fair to you, Marsh. I've gotten used to living day to day--but you shouldn't have to."

Marsh clasped both of Scully's hands, bringing them to her lips. "If you're in my life every day, I wouldn't ask for more."

*How can I ask her to live with this?* Scully pressed her forehead to Marsh's chest. Her voice was shaking as she said, "I want you so much, I don't think I can be rational."

Marsh laughed gently, stroking her back tenderly. "Who wants a rational lover? Since I seem to be crazy about you, it seems only right."

Scully nuzzled her face against the soft curve of Marsh's breast, brushing her lips over her nipple. "Crazy doesn't begin to describe it," she murmured softly. She was afraid to even _think_ the words she wanted to say.

Part Four

Tuesday 4:55 am

This time Marsh awoke alone. She lay for a moment listening for some sound, some movement, to tell her Dana was still there. She expected her to be gone, expected her to be a dream. There was only silence. She stepped into her sweats and pulled a tee shirt from the pile on the floor. Their clothes had suffered somewhat in their eagerness to undress one another the night before. She crossed softly to the top of the spiral staircase, and looked down into the room below. Marsh released the breath she hadn't been aware of holding. Dana was there--by the window; she was not a dream.

"Bad dreams?" Marsh asked as she settled beside Scully on the sofa.

Scully turned so that she could lean back into Marsh's arms. "Not exactly." Her voice was quiet, sad somehow. "I was thinking about us."

*Here it comes* Marsh swallowed the sawdust in her throat. "Feeling guilty?" she asked lightly.

Scully turned in surprise. "God, no. Is that what you think is going to happen? That I'm suddenly going to have second thoughts, and walk out of here?" There was more than a hint of anger in her tone. "Just what is it you think I've been doing, Marsh? Amusing myself with a little recreational sex?" She stared at Marsh, suddenly uncertain. "Or have I been reading _you_ wrong? Maybe you're the one who isn't serious."

"Hey, hey--slow down," Marsh pleaded. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. It's just that I've been too happy _not_ to worry. Sounds crazy, doesn't it? You are the most amazing thing to ever happen in my life, and I can't quite believe it. I couldn't be more serious about you, or more certain of what I want. I want you--every way, every day."

Scully knew it was true, she had felt it in Marsh's touch. She sighed, reaching for Marsh's hand. "I'm sorry, too. I can't bear the thought of anything, or anyone, hurting you. I'm afraid that being with me might put you in danger."

"Why?" Marsh asked, less frightened by the prospect of harm than of losing her.

"Skinner so much as warned me this morning not to see you," Scully admitted. "One of us is being followed, and I suspect it's me. It wouldn't be the first time."

Marsh laughed grimly. "So much for the privacy act. Did you tell him to stuff it?"

It was Scully's turn to laugh. "I'd like to keep my job a little longer. I also got the sense it wasn't coming from him. No matter where it's coming from though, it's a problem. I don't want to jeopardize your position with the bureau or the hospital."

"So what are you suggesting?" Marsh asked sharply. "That we not see each other?"

"No!--I don't know, Marsh. I can't even bear to think about not seeing you for a day! I just don't want you hurt!"

"Believe me, nothing could hurt me as much as not being able to see you," Marsh insisted. She looked at Scully closely. Her unhappiness was apparent. "There's something else, isn't there?"

Scully debated not answering. In the end, she chose honesty, because without it they had nothing. "Skinner told me what happened when Karen Summers died."

"Walter was quite talkative this morning, wasn't he?" Marsh said bitterly. She stood up suddenly and walked to the window, her hands clenched at her sides. "What difference does it make now?"

Scully wanted to go to her, but she knew she was the cause of her pain. "Marsh," she said softly, "my job is pretty safe, but it's not without risk. And then--" She took a deep breath, steeling herself for her next words. "What if my cancer returns?"

Marsh's back was rigid, her voice harsh. "I was just a green recruit, and she was a seasoned field agent. I couldn't believe she'd even talk to me, and when she asked me out, I fell hard. I was very young, and she was my first lover. Did Walter bother to tell you the whole story? Did he tell you that I was there when she went down? Did he tell you she was wearing her vest, but the shot caught her in the throat? Did he tell you I was out of my mind with grief when I went off that bridge? I don't even remember getting into the car!!"

"Marsh, don't," Scully pleaded. The anguish in Marsh's voice was breaking her heart. "You don't have to do this."

Marsh turned, her jaw tight. "But I do, don't I? You want to know what will happen to me if you die. That's it, isn't it? That's really what you're asking me."

Scully couldn't stand it any longer. She went to her, wrapping her arms around her waist, laying her head against her chest. "I don't want to be the cause of your pain. I would never forgive myself."

Marsh tightened her arms around Scully. "Then believe this--nothing would ever hurt me as much as not spending whatever time we have together."

"I have to believe it," Scully whispered, "because there's no way I can do without you."

"You won't have to," Marsh replied, "I'm here for you as long as you want me."

**********

7:48 a.m.

"Come on, come on," Scully muttered under her breath while trying to maneuver through rush hour traffic in the center of the nation's capital. "If I show up late for work, Mulder will never let me forget it."

She would have had plenty of time if it hadn't been for the shower. It seemed reasonable at the time for her to jump in while Marsh was showering for work. She hadn't counted on losing herself in the beauty of Marsh's body as rivulets of water streamed over it. She hadn't meant to do anything more than catch the tiny droplets that cascaded from Marsh's nipple on her tongue. But then she had pulled the tight pink nub into her mouth, and Marsh had moaned and trapped Scully's thigh between her legs. Marsh was hot and wet where she rubbed against her, and suddenly Scully was throbbing. Then she had backed Marsh up against the rear of the shower, and she was kneeling, the water beating on her back, so she could part the silky hair between Marsh's taut thighs with her tongue. Marsh's clitoris was already hard and standing out, waiting for her mouth. Marsh began to whimper as she sucked her, clutching Scully's shoulders for support. Her own clit pounded insistently in time with Marsh's, and she touched herself without thinking. Then she couldn't stop, and she was rubbing herself as she circled Marsh with her tongue, both of them moaning, their bodies quivering, the escalating pressure nearly unbearable. Marsh went off first, her head banging back against the glass enclosure, her legs rigid with strain. When Marsh started spasming between her lips, Scully's hips bucked in response, and she came into her hand. Marsh ended up on the floor with Scully more or less on top of her, and both of them nearly drowning. It was the best shower Scully ever had.

Scully smiled at the memory and the flush of arousal that accompanied it. Just as she pulled into the underground parking facility, her cell phone rang. She slammed into a parking space, reaching for her trench coat with one hand and her phone with the other. "Scully," she said.

"Scully, it's me," Mulder said. "Don't bother coming downstairs, Skinner wants us in his office _now_."

"Okay," Scully replied, crossing toward the elevator. "What's going on?"

"No idea," he said. "See you in a minute."

As it was, they both arrived outside AD Skinner's door at the same time. Miraculously, Mulder carried two cups of coffee and handed one wordlessly to Scully.

"Bless you," Scully whispered as she followed him into Skinner's office. She took her customary seat next to Mulder across from Skinner's desk. Skinner looked humorless as usual, his jacket off and his shirt sleeves already rolled up. He had probably been at work since six a.m.

He regarded them both intently for a moment, then leaned back in his leather chair with a grimace. "Marshall Black is missing. She had a seven a.m. surgery scheduled and didn't show up. The--"

"That's impossible!" Scully interrupted, half rising from her chair. She was having a hard time focusing on Skinner; there seemed to be something wrong with her vision. She shook her head, trying in vain to clear it, repeating urgently, "That's impossible. There must be a mistake."

Mulder reached a steadying hand to her arm. "Scully," he said in a cautious tone, "let's hear the rest of it."

She turned on him, her azure eyes flashing fire. "I just left her two hours ago, Mulder! She was fine!"

*Jesus Scully, get a grip. This is no time to be making announcements like that* She obviously didn't know what she was saying, or she wouldn't be exposing herself this way in front of Skinner. Mulder thought frantically, trying to formulate a plausible explanation for Scully's statement.

Before Mulder could speak, Skinner leaned forward, saying, "I don't care _why_ you were interviewing Dr. Black at 6 o'clock in the morning, Agent Scully. What can you tell me that might help us locate her?"

Scully looked at him helplessly, her mind blank. *This can't be happening! She's all right. She _has_ to be. Good God, don't let me lose her now!*

"Scully," Mulder whispered urgently, forcing her to focus on him. *Come _on_, Scully, you can do this*

She stared at her partner, at the face she knew so well, and her mind began to function. She was a federal agent, she was a professional, and if Marsh needed anything from her now, it was her thinking like one.

"She left her house at 6:05 a.m., driving her Porsche. She was wearing--," For an instant, her voice failed her. She cleared her throat and continued, "She was wearing blue flannel slacks, a light blue blazer, and a white turtleneck. I don't think she had an over coat." Scully looked at Skinner, her eyes filled with pain. *She kissed me goodbye. She said she'd call me between her cases to talk about dinner* With effort, Scully asked quietly, "Have you found her car?"

"Yes," he said, biting off the word. "It's in her marked slot in the hospital garage. She was due in the OR at seven, and apparently it's unheard of for her to be late. When she wasn't there by seven-fifteen security checked the garage, saw her car, and became suspicious. A heads-up security chief remembered the missing patients and thought there might be a connection. That's the only reason we were notified so quickly."

Scully fought back the bile rising in her throat. She would _not_ fall apart! "Was there any sign of a struggle?" she asked, nearly choking on the words. *oh god, Marsh--please, no*

"No," Skinner growled. "We need to jump on this one, people. We must assume this is related to the incident at the dam, and the missing patients. In all likelihood, someone thinks Black knows something, since she is the attending physician of record for all the survivors. We need to find her before they discover she doesn't know anything."

He didn't elaborate, and he didn't need to. It was unlikely that Marsh would be returned unharmed whether she provided useful information or not. There would be no request for ransom. Her best hope was if they found her quickly. Her chances of survival beyond tweny-four hours were slim.

Mulder stood, addressing Skinner, but speaking for Scully's benefit. "Marsh Black _is_ an agent, whether she's active or not. She's smart enough to stay alive until we find her. And we _will_ find her."

Skinner gave them both a hard stare. "That's what I expect. So get started."

He watched them leave the office, wondering if he was making a mistake letting Scully work the case. She was white as a sheet, but she hadn't lost her composure, he'd give her that. Still, he hadn't forgotten, could never forget, the look on Marsh Black's face the day Karen Summers went down. Scully had looked like that just now, and he didn't want another agent taking a drive off a bridge. He just hoped Mulder was smart enough not to leave her alone.

**********

"Scully--" Mulder said urgently the moment Skinner's door closed behind them. "We'll find her."

Scully silenced him with a raised hand. "Don't. Don't tell me lies, Mulder. Not now."

Mulder stopped, grasping her by the shoulders, turning her to face him. He peered intently into her face, not caring that people passing by were staring at them. "Don't give up before we've started, Scully. It's way too soon for that."

"I know. It's just when I think of someone taking her ..." *Hurting her...* She clenched her hands tightly, her nails biting into her palms. She was having trouble feeling anything. The small crescents of pain were actually comforting. After a second, she met his gaze. "How in God's name did you stand it?"

He wasn't sure whether she meant Samantha's disappearance or her own. His answer was still the same. "I got angry. Get angry, Scully."

She forced herself to think, turning from him and starting toward the stairs to the parking garage. "It doesn't make any sense, Mulder. Why would anyone risk this, when she couldn't possibly have any useful information?"

Mulder hurried to keep pace, grateful to see some color returning to her deathly pale cheeks. "When has any of it made sense, Scully? Five years of smoke and mirrors, truth and lies. Maybe there's something _we're _ missing. Maybe there _was_ something on the x-rays, or in the lab tests, or in the physical examinations. There has to be some reason why the patients were all removed, and there has to be some kind of common bond. They were all at Ruskin Dam for a reason. Marsh is the only one who's had intimate access to all of them."

"She would have told me," Scully insisted.

"Maybe she hasn't figured the link out, but someone is afraid she will," he said as gently as he knew how. He could name half a dozen people who had disappeared or met untimely deaths because of what they _might_ have known. He knew Scully could, too.

She refused to consider that possibility. Shaking her head, she pulled open the driver's side of her bureau car with enough force to shake the entire frame.

"You sure you want to drive?" Mulder asked. She might be functioning again, but her hands were shaking, and she looked shell-shocked.

Scully looked at him over the hood of the car, her eyes smoldering. "Three hours ago I was making love to her, Mulder. Now I may never see her again. Yes, I want to drive. I want to shoot someone--is that angry enough?"

Mulder nodded seriously, opening the passenger side door. "It's a good start."

**********

Five hours later they sat slumped over cups of lukewarm, over-brewed coffee in the hospital cafeteria. Scully stared unseeing into the muddy liquid. Mulder stared anxiously at her.

"We still have to interview all the employees who were changing shifts about the time Marsh would have arrived at the hospital. We're going to have a lot of people to wake-up," Mulder said, trying to sound enthusiastic. They were down to their last possibilities, and they both knew it. No one they had talked to thus far had seen Marsh drive in or had noticed anything the slightest bit out of the ordinary. Without a witness, they would have absolutely no hope of finding her.

Scully mustered every remnant of her shattered will power and tried to concentrate. As each hour had passed, hope dissipated, leaving behind a strange lassitude. It was not unlike the emptiness she had felt upon awakening at Ruskin Dam. It was a little bit like dying, only there was no promise of peace. Marsh was not here to call her back.

She looked at Mulder, her blue eyes so wounded it tore his heart. "Can't you contact someone, Mulder? There has to be someone who knows more than we do -- about the implanted chips, the abductions, about whoever or what ever is behind it all."

"Oh, Scully," he murmured sadly. "Anyone who might have helped us is dead. And I don't know any longer if anything they told us could be believed."

"There's _ got _ to be something we can do," Scully said frantically. She had to move, or she feared she might surrender to the relentless despair that pounded at the defenses of her mind. If she contemplated the reality of Marsh being gone from her life, of never hearing her voice again, or looking into her eyes, or feeling the comfort of her presence, she wasn't sure how she would survive it. She knew with absolute certainty what desolation accompanied Marsh on that near fatal ride so long ago. With everything she had endured, nothing had prepared her for the loss of someone who had touched her so deeply and so intimately. For the first time in her life, she had felt completely known. To have experienced it, no matter how briefly, would make living without it unbearable. She looked at