Chapter 4:

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There was a huddle of cameramen and equipment around her door, but
as soon as they pulled up agents materialized from nowhere and
shoved them out of the way for Mulder and Scully to be able to
make their way through.

I didn't join that group. I stayed in my van and adjusted the
controls on my next toy, the video equipment.

Hal had parked his car nearby earlier and left for the day,
telling me he'd be back in the morning with Blatt. I was alone in
the van, surrounded by the tools of my unholy trade. I began
slugging back the coffee again, refueling for the coming evening.

Smith had helped me set up cameras on the roof of the building
across the street and we found a crack in one of the shades in her
bedroom window and gap in the window frame of the bathroom to be
able to focus into the rooms. We weren't able to find anything for
the living room, so as the two agents entered the room I had to
rely on my listening equipment and imagination to fill in the
blanks. Of course this is all illegal and can't be used on the
air, but we in the 'entertainment' press call it research. How do
you think we're able to know our prey's every move?

I heard the door close and Scully speak. "Mulder, what have you
done?"

"Which time?" he answered.

"Don't be cute. Not this time. Why are we being hounded by the
press?" she asked.

"The cameras were there already when we arrived. Dole called them
so he could have a proper audience for his game."

She was silent for a few moments. Was she trying to remember?
Memory loss isn't uncommon after trauma. "Yes, I see them now."
She stumbled a bit. "Did they get...everything?"

Everything was a lot for her, I could tell. "Yah. Everything...after
you were being seen to by the EMTs...I took his gun and I desecrated
the body." He sighed deeply.

"What?" She sounded incredulous.

"I shot his balls off. The kind of stuff they just love on the
evening news. It's sort of gotten whipped up into a big deal.
That's why Skinner wanted me to stay away, to see if it would calm
down, but it hasn't. I think it might work if we just hide out in
here for a couple of days with the shades drawn. I'm sure somebody
in this town will do something soon to distract their attention
away from us." I could hear the creak of a rusty smile on his
face.

"Why did you do that?" Her voice whispered.

I didn't think he was going to answer and then he spoke his voice
as low as hers, "Something in me just broke, I guess."

I could hear nothing but their breathing, his shallow and rapid as though he was running, hers deep and rhythmic as though she was trying to keep herself from hyperventilating.

I heard the rustle of him moving to her side. "Scully do you want to go to bed? Some food?"

"No. I want a bath. I feel dirty."

Those words. God. Had she been lying when she said that bastard Dole hadn't touched her? I had decided she couldn't lie, right?

I heard Scully began to drag herself towards the bathroom. "Bathed
in fear-sweat for three hours. Hospital smells clinging to me.
Sponge bath for two days. I could drill for oil on my scalp. I
must bathe."

Bathe. Thank god, it was just a flash of obvious anal tendencies.

"Can you do that with your stitches?" I heard Mulder's big feet
galloping after her like a colt after the old gray mare.

"Watch me."

"But..."

"Mulder, help me."

They had entered the bathroom and I could see them at last. They
stopped by a big tub that dominated the room. "Help you?" he
squeaked.

"Yes. I'll need help out of these clothes and then you'll need to
take my bandage off. Why don't you start the water in the tub? I
like it very hot."

He turned like a robot, began filling the tub and asked her what
bath oil she preferred. Whipped.

"You see that bottle without the label? I want that one." She
faded away and dropped down on the stool beside the tub.

Mulder opened the bottle and breathed in the smell. I knew
instantly it would be that linger of scent that was on her blouse
the EMTs had left discarded on the ground back at the ice factory.
Not that I had sniffed it or anything. It had just brushed my nose
as I was picking in up off the ground.

The room must be warm and I'm sure it quickly filled with that
smell...the ScullySmell...Mulder whirled and dropped to his knees in
front of her. She gave out a little gasp at the sound of his knees
cracking on the tile floor.

He bent over the task of taking her tiny little shoes off. He
slipped his fingers into the first shoe for some reason. Nope,
couldn't even get more than three fingers half way into the shoe...

"Mulder?"

"Huh?" He was looking up into her dazed, pain-filled eyes. "Have
you taken your meds yet, Scully?"

She looked away with a furious swipe of her head. "No. When I get
in the bath bring them to me with a shot of whiskey to wash them
down."

"Scully!"

"Don't be such a mommy." She griped and pushed her remaining shoe
off with the other foot. He and I watched in fascination as her
small white feet wrestled together to free themselves from their
socks. "Mulder! I don't want the water to get cold." She struggled
to her feet.

I could see the anger rising on his face. So much for the course
of true love running smooth. He looked her square in the eye,
anger clashing with anger and reached down to grasp the waist of
her sweatpants. Well, I was in for the whole show. He yanked both
her sweatpants and her panties down to her ankles. The whole show
started with a round little white ass. This was going to
be...hard...in more ways than one.

She steadied herself with her good hand, gripping his head
tightly, scraping his scalp with her nails.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Left, now right."

He rose from his knees, bending at the waist, keeping his swollen
groin area out of her view, kept his eyes from her panties, from
her naked hip area and whirled around her body to stand behind
her. He was a regular Fred Astaire. From the back he reached
around her and pulled down the zipper of her sweat jacket. For
some reason he stayed far enough behind her to not touch her body
and still reach around to pull that zipper down over her breasts
and pull it loose at the waist, brushing her soft stomach.

He pulled the sweater off of her right arm and then very carefully
off the bandaged left arm.

He managed to remove her bandage with a minimum of wincing on her
part. She was shaking from cold. His voice was distant and
detached. "Get in the tub. Careful. Hold on to me."

She turned to get in the tub and I saw her full-frontally-nude
body for the first time. She was a small woman but beautifully
proportioned and sleek as a half-grown kitten. My eyes couldn't
stop themselves from being drawn to the horrible pucker of the
fresh scar and the mottled black and purple of the bruise.

"Oh, Scully." He and I both wanted to weep.

"Get my medicine, please." She pushed herself down until the
bubbles came up under her chin.

She and I listened to him bumping around in her room. She started
to soap up her body. Rubbing the cloth over her injured arm, she
looked up at him as he wandered back into the room.

"Can I help?" he asked.

She dropped the washcloth onto the edge of the tub. "Sure, knock
yourself out."

He pulled a stool over to the tub and picked up the cloth, rubbing
it on a cake of soap until it was covered in bubbles. He pulled
one foot out of the water and carefully washed her foot and down
her calf to the knee. She gripped the edge of the tub to keep from
being pulled in.

His arms dipped under the water. He must be washing her thighs.
When she stopped him her voice sounded harsh. "I've already washed
there."

He pulled his hands out of the water hastily. "Ok, sorry."

He grabbed the stool and walked hunched over behind her to set up
again. Gently he pushed her forward and began the slow circles on
her back. Now that he couldn't see her face she gripped her lower
lip to keep herself from moaning. Did she need to act this remote?
There were a rumor or two floating around the Hoover Building
about that too.

She stopped him. "I need to wash my hair, I'm not sure how to do
That..."

"Here's an idea...just lay back floating, and I'll hold you up," he
suggested.

His big damp hands took a hold of her shoulders carefully. She
leaned back, unsure. She took a deep breath and let her feet come
off the bottom of the tub and made herself float. The cooler air
made her nipples harden as her breasts broke the surface of the
water.

I had noticed him grasp his dick between his thighs when he sat
back down. Ah, the old trapped dick trick. Now he was in a pickle.
We both stared down at her in a catatonic state, watching her
breasts bob in the water, the flame of hair between her legs float
among the last few bubbles, matched by her head of hair swirling
around her still, carved ivory face. Uh, oh, he was rubbing his
legs together. From the look of pain that crossed his face, I knew
this did nothing to alleviate the pressure.

"Ok, Mulder." She murmured. Why couldn't she be saying, "Oh, yah,
Raaker," instead?

He gently pushed her back up on her feet, the water streaming off
of her hair. "Get that cup over there off the shelf. Use it to
pour fresh water over my head when I need to be rinsed."

He fetched the cup and her bottle of shampoo and sat back down.

He was soaping her hair when she spoke and startled Mulder and I.
"I guess I screwed up."

"Huh?" he asked.

"I should've known something was up with Dole. I knew someone
must've drugged me, I just didn't suspect him," she muttered.

"Scully, don't worry about it, I didn't take him seriously either.
He was a joke to us, someone to laugh about after he went home,"
he answered.

"I should've known," she said stubbornly. "At least we have
matching scars now," she added.

"Nope, I got mine lasered off," he said.

She grinned suddenly and somehow he knew. "What?" he asked as she
took the water cup and filled it while he softly whirled the suds
through her hair.

"You didn't keep my love tap?" she queried as she tipped her head
back.

He pushed the hair from side to side as he poured the water over
her head. Suds ran down her neck and between her breasts.

He chuckled. "The look in your eyes as you pulled the trigger
burned into my mind is enough."

She clamped down on her lips and didn't seem to have anything more
to add to this odd exchange. Finally her hair was clean. He
sounded like he was forcing cheerfulness. "So, I guess that's it."

She had leaned forward and had pulled the plug out but was turning
the water back on, steam rising from the fresh water. "I've gotta
shave my legs, they're driving me crazy."

He told her he hadn't noticed unsightly stubble when he had washed
her legs. She shot him an annoyed look. "I know it's there. I just
have fine body hair, but it's been five days since I've shaved and
I can't stand it."

He fetched a razor. "Do you have shaving lotion?"

"No, I just use soap."

He pulled his stool back down by her feet. She was grumbling
again. "You can't do this."

He snipped back at her. "You can't either. Do you want it done or
not?"

Maybe I had this all wrong. Maybe this guy was gay. He was taking
way too much interest in her personal grooming. Not my game at
all, frankly, but then again I haven't given it a try. I just
wanted the leg hair gone; I didn't want to be the one doing it.

He did a careful but thorough job. He was whispering under his
breath, "Steady, steady." When he glanced at her she gave him a
soft little smile. He dropped the razor into water. "Sorry." His
hand was feeling around. She helped him. "Back a little, to your
left." It looked like he found it by her butt.

He finished with her legs and rocked back on the stool seeming to
be pleased with himself. "Out without a scratch."

There must be a nasty part of her that she kept down deep...most of
the time. "Mulder, I need my armpits shaved too."

"What?!" he squeaked.

"Even more than leg hair, hair under my arms kills me," she
continued.

"All right, all right. Are you able to lift your left arm?" he
asked.

"No, I can't lift it high enough, but the right one...it'll do." She
looked at him through slit eyes as she lifted her right arm in the
air with a lazy motion.

He got down on his knees by her shoulder and looked into gentle
valley of her armpit.

"Be careful, hold the muscles back so that the area is flat," she
murmured in his ear.

"Ok." He licked his lips and pushed the muscles back until the
skin was tight. He ran the razor quickly down over the hair.
"There." He was triumphant.

"Thank you Mulder, I'll have to return the favor sometime." She
was giving him that lazy look again. What was she thinking about
shaving off of him?

"Ok, I'll take you up on that..." His attempt at humor fell as flat
as her face.

She stood suddenly in the tub and swayed from the rush of blood to
the head. He grabbed her wet, slippery body. "Thanks," she said as
she stepped out of the tub.

He wrapped her in a body towel and fetched the panties and pajamas
he had laid out on the edge of the bed. He had chosen the white
cotton briefs probably for sentimental reasons and yellow flannel
pajamas with large red cherries on them. Her mouth turned down
when she saw them.

"You don't want these?" he asked.

"They were a gift. I was wearing a set of blue silk ones before..."

"I think flannel is best, now that the hot weather has finally
broken," he said firmly.

She let the towel loose...there he was again, back down on his
knees, this time pulling her panties on. I had never thought
putting clothes on a woman could be erotic, but now I was thinking
of amending that notion.

He lightly brushed her skin as he pulled up and secured her
panties on her hips. He let his big dark hands rest for a moment
on her hipbones. He looked as though it was taking every inch of
his self-control to not rest his head on her stomach.

The flannel could never be as soft as the skin on her belly I
decided, as he slowly pulled the bottoms up her silky legs. She
was standing stock still, as though she was afraid to move, and
stared intently at the wall behind him.

He carefully applied bandages over the scars on both sides of her
shoulder, pushing her damp hair aside. "Do you want me to dry
this?" he murmured in her ear.

She shook her head no as he pulled the top on her and slowly
buttoned it up.

Almost there...relief was almost there for me...he led the stumbling
slight figure to the bed. He had turned back the covers and now
sat her on the edge, swung her feet under the duvet...yes, almost
there. His voice, so calm, "Two pillows or one Scully?"

A faint whisper. "Two please, I need to elevate the injury to
reduce the pain."

Of course, perfectly sensible. He fluffed the extra pillow leaning
over her to place it behind her back...her shampoo must have no
effect on him.

He pulled back and looked at her sad little face. Watched her
nibble on her lower lip, glancing away from him with shiny
eyes...One tear escaped and balanced for a moment on an eyelash and
then slid down her face. He looked fascinated.

She needed to be comforted in her time of pain. He had to do it.
Just a goodnight kiss on the forehead, just like Daddy would give
her...when he pulled back I saw she had let several more tears
escape. I heard his voice crooning, "Oh, now Scully, don't cry."

He licked a tear off of her left cheek and then switched to chase
one down her right cheek...oops it had gotten away, it was on her
lip!

His tongue swept over her lips, wiping them dry, moistening them
with his warm salvia. He supported himself over her and tilted his
head to the other side to lick her lips the other direction. He
had to lift the nape after all...I realized he...I had lost all
reason.

His tongue was big and strong enough, I'm sure it could get its
own way. He pressed it between her lips and she sobbed, opening to
it. The victor would wrestle his opponent to the mat, the warm
soft mat, and then let himself be flipped and held in a tight
grip...her one strong hand was on his chest and gave a strong push.

He jumped back and I thought frantically, "What's the problem?
Damn her, damn him, damn me!"

End (04/07) feedback to bugsfic@yahoo.com

On to Chapter 5