TITLE: Genesis III: Forging the Bonds
AUTHOR: Radclyffe 
EMAIL ADDRESS: rdclyfhall@hotmail.com 
ARCHIVE: anywhere, just let me know 
RATING: NC-17; This story depicts graphic sexual encounters between 
same-sex consenting adults. 
CATEGORY: Romance 
SPOILERS: Up to Mind's Eye
KEYWORDS: Scully/Other(female);Scully/Slash 
SUMMARY: Scully and Marsh face the personal and professional challenges 
of a life together. This is a sequel to Genesis I and II but stands 
alone.

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.

Author's Note: Comments welcome. The entire Genesis series, previous and 
to come, is dedicated to Athos, for reminding me that there is, indeed, 
a

_...world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new..._ 
                     ...Matthew Arnold 

Thank you, my friend.

*********

April 1998

Marsh picked up the phone on the first ring. "Dr. Black," she said.

"You're not supposed to be at work," the familiar voice said sharply.

Marsh smiled, leaning back in her chair and cradling the receiver 
between her shoulder and ear. She closed her eyes, imagining the dynamic 
redhead at the other end of the line. She could almost feel the heat 
from that kilowatt smile. "And when exactly can I expect you back? I 
miss you like crazy."

"Nice try, but you're avoiding the issue," Dana Scully persisted, 
watching the traffic with half a mind as she pictured Marsh in her navy 
blue scrubs--long, lean, and sensuous. That was the way she had first 
seen her, and just the thought of her was enough to make Scully's pulse 
race. "Why aren't you home?"

"It was either come in here and catch up on paperwork, or die of 
boredom," Marsh said with disgust. 

Marsh wouldn't be able to scrub for surgery until the abrasions and 
lacerations were healed. Scully knew it had been a difficult two weeks 
for her intense lover, and it hadn't helped that they had been 
separated. Marsh had only been home from the hospital a few days before 
Scully and Mulder were called out of town on a case. To be apart was 
hard on both of them after what they'd just been through. The ordinary 
demands of Scully's job seemed doubled when she had to leave Marsh. "How 
are your arms?" Scully asked gently. 

Marsh examined the road map of red marks encircling her wrists. There 
would be scars. "They're fine. Another couple of days and I should be 
able to operate safely."

Scully knew that _ fine _ was not exactly accurate, but she accepted 
that Marsh was not ready to discuss it. She understood the need to 
appear strong, even to those who would offer comfort if allowed. "How 
would you like to take me to dinner?" she asked lightly.

"Nothing would please me more," Marsh said seriously. Pause. "On second 
thought, there is _one_ thing --" 

Scully's body responded to the innuendo in Marsh's voice with a quick 
surge of excitement. She tightened her thighs against the sudden 
pressure. They hadn't slept in the same bed or made love since Marsh's 
injury. Her voice was husky when she replied, "Maybe we should order 
takeout."

Marshall laughed, her spirits lifting for the first time in days. "Oh 
no, Agent Scully. I've been waiting a week to see you--you'll have to 
hold that thought a few hours longer."

"It had better be worth it," Scully said teasingly, wondering how she 
was going to control her rampaging libido for that long. Memories of 
Marsh and her own self-administrations had kept her sane during the past 
week, but it had hardly begun to satisfy her need for Marsh to touch 
her, or to have her hands on Marsh's skin.

"Oh, it will be," Marsh promised.

**********

6:58 pm 

Scully handed her coat to the hostess with a perfunctory _ thanks _. She 
was already scanning the seating area, searching for Marsh. She couldn't 
contain her grin, or her excitement, when she found her. How pale her 
memory had been compared to the reality of Marsh's presence! How fine 
Marsh looked in a tailored silk suit, that endearing shock of black hair 
falling unheeded over her forehead. *She is so damn beautiful!* Her 
heart was pounding as she threaded her way between the tables. *I can't 
believe it's only been a week! I've missed her so much!* 

Marsh started to rise as Scully approached. With an uncharacteristically 
shy smile, she held out a single white rose. "Happy anniversary, Dr. 
Scully," she said softly. *How I wish I had words to say what you mean 
to me*

Scully stopped a foot from the table, gently taking the hand that 
offered the rose. She smiled into Marsh's eyes, then leaned forward and 
kissed her softly on the lips. "Thank you, Dr. Black," she said, her 
voice husky. *I am _definitely_ not going to make it through dinner*

"Careful, people will stare," Marsh said lightly, not caring in the 
least. She let her fingers linger for just an instant on Scully's 
forearm before she sat back down.

Scully was grateful to finally sit; her legs were shaking. She lay the 
rose reverently beside her plate. When she met Marsh's gaze, her eyes 
were moist. "Has it really only been a month? I can't recall how I 
managed before you."

"All I _did_ was manage," Marsh said quietly, remembering years of soul 
numbing loneliness. "I owe you my life, and everything that makes it 
worth living."

Scully looked at Marsh's hands were they rested lightly on the white 
linen tablecloth. They were supple and strong, precise surgeon's hands, 
capable of inflaming her with the slightest touch. Below the edge of 
Marsh's white cuffs she could make out the last of the healing 
lacerations. Very gently she placed her fingertips against the scars. 
"Without you my life would be so empty." She raised her eyes to Marsh's, 
the pain of nearly losing her still fresh. "I need you so much."

Marsh threaded her fingers through Scully's. "This dinner was a bad 
idea. I want you so much I can't think."

Scully tightened her fingers around Marsh's. Her throat was dry. "Leave 
a generous tip."

They were gone before the waiter had a chance to drop off the menus.

**********

11:21 pm

"I'm starving."

"There's cold pizza somewhere," Marsh commented lazily.

"Hmm, where did that end up?" Scully mused. There was very likely a 
trail of discarded garments leading directly to it. When the delivery 
boy knocked at the door, they were on the other side of it, 
half-undressed, hands inside each other's clothing, ravenous only for 
each other. All she could remember was a hasty rebuttoning of blouses 
and fumbling with zippers. Moments later, the pizza had been forgotten 
in their rush to get one another naked again. 

"If you let me up, I might be able to find sustenance for you," Marsh 
said with a laugh. Dana was curled up next to her, one leg thrown over 
hers, and an arm possessively encircling her waist.

"You're my sustenance--food is only metabolic fuel," Scully murmured 
contentedly, pulling Marsh closer. *God, I can't believe I almost lost 
you. What would I do without you now?*

Marsh kissed her, lingering to run her tongue over the ripe fullness of 
Dana's lower lip. Dana tasted like warm honey and exotic fruits, and 
Marsh knew it was a mixture of their own nectar. "Mmm, you taste good," 
she said, kissing her more deeply, beginning to lose herself in the lush 
softness of Dana's mouth. She moaned when Dana took a nipple between her 
fingers, twisting it just enough to send showers of excitement up and 
down Marsh's body. Soon her clitoris was throbbing in time to the 
thrusting of their tongues. She slid one leg around Scully's, trying to 
ease the building tension by pressing against Dana's thigh.

Scully felt Marsh's arousal, hot and wet against her skin, and was 
amazed that she could affect the other woman so. It was a new 
experience, one she enjoyed, and one she had no intention of ignoring. 
Marsh groaned as Scully slid a finger deeper between her legs, dipping 
into the moisture there, finding her full and hard. Scully purposely 
avoided her clitoris, tormenting her with light caresses along either 
side of it. When Marsh nearly sobbed, pushing desperately against 
Scully's hand, Scully smiled, satisfied that she had her lover's 
attention. She tangled her fingers in the light wavy hair at the base of 
Marsh's belly, tugging softly. "Hey, you were going hunting and 
gathering, remember Doc? Time to go."

"You're killing me," Marsh moaned, lifting her hips, wordlessly urging 
Scully to increase the pressure of her strokes. Her mind was cloudy with 
need. *God, just touch me for a second. I'm so close!*

Scully wanted nothing more than to satisfy her, but she had no desire to 
rush. *Face it, Dana, you love to tease her. It's such an incredible 
turn on when she begs* It was all she could do not to slide her other 
hand to her own throbbing clitoris. She moved her hand away from Marsh's 
intoxicating heat. "I'm too weak from hunger to go on."

Marsh growled and rolled over onto her, pinning Scully's hands above her 
head at the same time. She straddled Scully's midsection as she leaned 
down to bite the tender flesh just above Scully's collar bone. She 
rocked her hips in short thrusts, rubbing her clitoris over the soft 
skin of Scully's stomach. The friction was making her come. She moaned, 
short staccato cries, her face pressed to Scully's neck as her clitoris 
twitched with preorgasmic spasms. *Oh, yesss--so good!*

"Oh, no you don't!" Scully warned as she realized what was happening. 
With surprising speed and strength she freed her hands from Marsh's 
grip, pushing Marsh back, breaking their contact.

"Oh, lord, Dana--" Marsh pleaded, her face taut with need. "I want to 
come!" She could barely focus, her eyes dark pools of yearning. "Please! 
Just make me come!"

Faint smile. "Move up here, then." Husky demand.

Marsh slid forward, bracing herself with her hands against the 
headboard. Her legs trembled so much she thought she might fall. 

Scully grasped Marsh's firm buttocks, supporting her as Marsh lowered 
herself toward Scully's mouth. Scully looked up, exulting in the moment. 
Above her, Marsh's tight belly and pink-tipped breasts stretched like a 
living sculpture, her coiled muscles quivering with tension. Their eyes 
met as Marsh looked down at her, and they connected in that place where 
lovers go when all they know is the wonder of each other. Slowly, Scully 
raised her head, full lips parting. A small sob escaped as Marsh braced 
for the contact. Scully took her deeply into her mouth, drinking of her, 
savoring her rich essence. At the same time, Scully reached between her 
own parted thighs. Her moans vibrated around Marsh's clitoris. When 
Scully ran her tongue the length of her, deliberately pressing hard 
against Marsh's extended clitoris, Marsh came instantly, a wrenching cry 
accompanying her jerking hips. That, and the pressure of her own 
circling fingers, was enough to set Scully off. She clamped her thighs 
tightly around her hand as the contractions began, holding Marsh to her 
lips with the other. Scully nearly forgot to breath as she immersed 
herself in the sounds and sensations of her lover's orgasm. She didn't 
stop her adorations until Marsh literally collapsed beside her.

"Oh, god, I love you," Marsh cried, wrapping her arms around her smaller 
lover.

Scully pulled Marsh close, kissing first her mouth, then her still 
fluttering eyelids. When she could bear to break the contact, she 
whispered, "I love you, too. So much."

Scully's words electrified Marsh as the satisfaction of her orgasm gave 
way to lust. She rolled over onto Scully, her hand searching for Dana's 
center, urgent with the need to possess her. Scully arched to meet her, 
pulling her inside, demanding to be taken.

The pizza could wait a little longer.

********** 

6:45 a.m.

Scully found Marsh leaning against the counter in the kitchen munching a 
piece of cold pizza, clad only in a half-buttoned, oversized shirt. Her 
hair was wild, her lips slightly bruised, her eyes liquid with 
satiation. She was adorably irresistible.

"Is that my breakfast you're devouring?" Scully asked with a smile.  On 
her way to search the refrigerator for something to drink, she ran her 
fingers lightly up Marsh's naked thigh.

"Mmmm," Marsh acknowledged, grinning sheepishly.

Scully shook her head in mock disgust. "You're as bad as Mulder. I guess 
I'm destined to eat take out for the rest of my life."

"Oh now, be fair. I can cook. Let's see," Marsh said, opening the 
cabinets behind her. "We could have...well, there's tuna fish, cereal, 
and canned mushrooms." She grinned, that slightly crooked grin that 
caused Scully's heart to melt. "Okay. I can cook, I just don't shop."

"Like I said, take out," Scully laughed. She poured orange juice, coming 
to stand beside Marsh, threading an arm around her waist and leaning 
against her comfortably. They hadn't had much time to enjoy the simple 
moments of day to day life, and Scully found she liked it. Waking up 
with Marsh beside her was as satisfying in its own way as the passionate 
love they made well into the night. She even liked listening to her sing 
in the shower. She had never shared such intimate moments with anyone, 
and there were times, like now, when she wished she had never heard of 
medicine, or the FBI, or the x-files. All she wanted was to fix 
breakfast, read the newspaper over a leisurely cup of coffee, and coax 
her lover back to bed. She sighed. "If Mulder and I didn't have to 
finish the paperwork on the Wilmington case, I'd be tempted to call in 
sick--if I could get you to stay home, too."

Marsh draped an arm around Scully's shoulders, drawing her closer. "I 
wish I could. I'm not ready to leave you either." She kissed her, 
letting the soft connection grow until they were both a little 
breathless. She pulled away reluctantly. "So how is Mulder?"

"Mulder is Mulder," Scully said. "He stayed in Wilmington to tie up some 
loose ends after I left. The case was closed, and all I wanted to do was 
get back here to you."

"Is he okay with us?" Marsh asked carefully.

Scully tilted her head to study Marsh's face. "Yes, I think so. Why? 
What happened?"

Marsh shrugged. "Nothing happened. It's just that when he questioned me 
in the hospital, I got the sense he didn't entirely trust me. I was 
still a little under the weather. I probably was imagining things."

Scully kept her voice carefully neutral. "I didn't realize he 
_questioned _ you. When was this?"

"That first afternoon, when you went home to get some sleep."

*When I wasn't around, you mean* Scully worked to keep her temper under 
control. It was exactly like Mulder to pursue his own agenda without 
telling her. Generally, at some point in an investigation, he would let 
her in on the information he had gathered. This time, however, he had 
been interrogating her lover. This time, she was furious. "What did he 
want to know?"

Marsh set about getting coffee ready. "What you might expect. How much 
did I remember; did I recognize anyone; what did they want to know; what 
did I tell them. I'm afraid I disappointed him. I was drugged almost the 
entire time, and I don't remember specifics."

Scully was torn. Mulder was her partner, and she had a deep and 
unshakeable faith in his integrity. But Marsh was her lover, and 
something fiercely protective surfaced as Marsh spoke. Mulder should 
have known from the statement Marsh had given Skinner that she had no 
memory for the events of her disappearance. The fact that he questioned 
her later meant he didn't believe her. *I know he suspects everyone of a 
conspiracy, but he could have told me he was going to talk to her!*

"Didn't he tell you?" Marsh asked in surprise.

"We were pretty wrapped up in this case. Between me driving back and 
forth with the forensics, and the two of us trying to coordinate an 
investigation with the Wilmington police, I don't think Mulder and I 
said two words to each other that wasn't about work."

Marsh poured them both mugs of coffee. "I know he's important to you, 
Dana--he's more than just your partner, which is important enough. If 
there's a problem--"

"If there's a problem," Scully interrupted firmly, "I'll take care of 
it. Mulder is damn important to me, but you, Dr. Black, are my life."

Marsh paused, the coffee cup halfway to her lips. "You're really 
serious, aren't you?" she asked in wonder.

Scully was constantly surprised to rediscover that her capable, 
competent, accomplished lover hid a heart full of disappointment and 
uncertainty behind her confident exterior. "Yes," she said very gently. 
"I am totally serious. I love you."

"In that case," Marsh asked quietly, "I was wondering if you would like 
to go to a birthday party with me Saturday night."

"Birthday party?" Scully echoed. *Why do I get the feeling this is a 
loaded question* She set her coffee cup carefully on the table before 
taking both of Marsh's hands in hers. "Come clean, Black. Let's have the 
details."

"My grandfather will be 75 on Saturday. I don't know how many more 
birthday's he'll have. I'd like him to meet you."

"Meet me as what, Marsh?" Scully probed. *She's as difficult to get 
information out of as Mulder!*

Marsh met her gaze squarely. "As my lover. I want him to know I have 
someone. I think he'll be happy for me." 

Scully contemplated the significance of Marsh's request. Until this 
point, Mulder was the only person who knew about her relationship with 
Marsh. If she met Marsh's family, she was making a statement about her 
place in Marsh's life. She was making a statement about their future. A 
few weeks ago she had faced losing her, and that event had crystallized 
her feelings into diamond hard certainty. She loved her. What Marsh was 
asking, without demanding an answer, was what she intended to do with 
that love. Scully hadn't been raised to run from the truth. Her gaze 
never faltered as she squeezed Marsh's hands lightly.

"I'd love to go."


*********


2:20 p.m. Friday
FBI headquarters, Washington D.C.

"Hey, Scully," a tired, disheveled Mulder said as he flopped gratefully 
into his chair. "Anything happening?"

Scully looked up from the computer terminal, noting the day old stubble 
and rumpled clothes. "You look like hell, Mulder."

He grinned, propping his feet up on the corner of his desk. "Thank you. 
I missed you, too."

"Did you talk to her?"

He frowned. "Yeah. But I didn't get anywhere. She's convinced that she's 
free now, and she's ready to spend the rest of her life in prison if she 
has to."

"She did kill a man, Mulder," Scully reminded him gently. The 
circumstances were bizarre to be sure. She still couldn't quite 
reconcile exactly how a blind woman could lay in wait for someone, and 
then shoot them. 

"It was self-defense," he insisted.

"But it appears pre-meditated! She knocked out a cop and took his gun, 
for pete's sake! That blows the self-defense argument right there," she 
pointed out.

"But it _is_ self-defense if she were seeing the killer's crimes, 
psychically, and he realized that. She was protecting herself the only 
way she could!" Mulder protested.

"You try selling _that_ to a jury, or better yet--Skinner," Scully 
snorted.

"I thought you could do that," he said, grinning.

Scully shook her head emphatically. "My field report is almost finished, 
and it does _not_ say anything about psychic visions originating from 
intrauterine trauma!"

"Ooo, Scully--that is _so_ exciting when you say it like that." Big 
leer.

"Knock it off, Mulder." Hiding smile.

"You left town awfully quickly yesterday," Mulder commented 
off-handedly. *Oh oh, she's blushing again* He waited.

"The case was finished," Scully noted flatly.

"Uh huh."

She fixed him with _the look_, one eyebrow raised in exasperation. "And 
I hadn't seen Marsh in a week."

"Uh huh!" he grinned.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to question her, Mulder?" she 
asked, her earlier anger abated, but not altogether assuaged. He 
_should_ have told her.

His grin disappeared and he sat up straight in his chair. "It was just a 
follow-up interview," he said. It was lame, and he knew it. Hell, _she _ 
knew it. He took a breath, beginning again before she had a chance to 
jump all over him. "I thought if I talked to her I might get her to 
remember something--anything."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Scully repeated. She was used to Mulder 
pursuing things his own way, but she couldn't help but think there was 
something he wasn't telling her.

"I didn't want you along."

*Now we're getting to it* Her voice was cold, controlled, but her 
temperature was rising. "Why not?"

"Because I wasn't sure what she might say, and I didn't want you to 
interfere if I had to push her," he admitted.

Scully blew. "What do you suspect her of, for God's sake? She had burns 
on her neck from the taser gun they used to knock her out. There were 
needle marks on both arms from the drugs they gave her to keep her 
sedated. And let's not forget the lacerations from the electrical cord 
they tied her hands with. The cord she was hanging from when you found 
her, remember?" It was painful still for her to think about what Marsh 
had been through, and how very close she had been to dying. Her voice 
trembled. "They left her for dead, Mulder! How could you possibly think 
she had anything to do with it?"

He felt miserable. He hated it when she was angry at him, and this time 
he had no defense. "I just had to be sure," he muttered almost to 
himself.

"Why?" she persisted.

"Because of you!" he blurted.

"Come again?" Scully asked in bewilderment. Something wasn't tracking 
here.

"I've known you for five years, and I can count your dates on one hand. 
All _men_ I might add. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Marshall Black appears 
and you're head over heels for her! Come on, Scully! It's practically an 
x-file!"

"What are you saying?" There was a dangerous edge to her tone.

He braced himself. "Maybe she's a plant."

Scully stared at him, momentarily speechless. His expression was half 
defiance, half chagrin. *Just keep reminding yourself he's your partner, 
and your friend, Dana. Don't kill him* She waited until her pulse rate 
stabilized. "Mulder," she began carefully, "it couldn't have been 
planned--who could have known what it would take to get close to me?"

"What do you think profilers _do_, Scully?" he pointed out. It hurt, 
realizing that even he would have been hard pressed to have predicted 
it.

"_You're_ a profiler, Mulder. Would _you_ have chosen Marshall Black to 
put next to me?"

*Never in a million years* He grinned, signs of his old self showing. "I 
wish."

Her anger never held in the face of his charms. She tried to hide a 
smile. "Don't even _think_ it." 

He regarded her seriously. "Maybe if I understood how she did it, I'd 
feel better."

Scully reminded herself that this was not Bill, or Charlie. This was 
Mulder. He wasn't trying to judge her. How to describe falling in love? 
"Marsh just--happened. One day my life was as it had always been--a 
study in black and white. I worked, I tried to make some kind of a 
difference, I spent my nights alone. The next day Marsh was there --she 
brought light, and warmth, and color into my life. _I'm_ the same, but 
the world has changed because of her. I love her for that, Mulder, and 
for the way she loves me. She doesn't keep secrets; she lets me see her 
fears. She comforts me without resenting my strength. She trusts me with 
her heart." She lifted her hands in frustration, helpless to explain. *I 
don't have words. I need her in some deep way that defies description*

"So--what is it?" he asked, amazed that this was his rational, skeptical 
partner talking. "You just accept this--thing--between you on _faith_?!"

"Faith is believing without proof. I _have_ proof. I have the way she 
behaves, I have--" There were some things too sacred to tell even 
Mulder. She finished silently, *--the way she lets me touch her, the way 
she makes love to me*

He blushed and fumbled on his desk for a pencil, something to occupy his 
hands. Her face revealed what her words hadn't. She looked downright 
ripe with satisfaction. So much for imagining that the sex wasn't a big 
part of it. He cleared his throat. "So you think it's reasonable for 
_me_ to accept her on faith?"

Scully returned her full piercing attention to him. "No, Mulder, I 
expect you to trust _my judgement_ on a lot more than faith." Her tone 
implied the discussion was over, and that she would thank him not to 
reopen it.

He studied the impressions on the side of his number two pencil for a 
long moment before raising his eyes to hers. She was waiting. "Agreed. 
No more questions."

The phone rang, startling them both. She smiled her thanks as she 
reached for it. She listened a moment, then replied, "Yes sir, right 
away."

Mulder grimaced. "Skinner?"

Scully nodded, gathering her papers. "He wants our reports."

 Mulder followed reluctantly. *Hoo boy, this should be fun*

**********

Skinner sat ramrod straight behind the desk, perusing their reports 
while Scully and Mulder sat waiting in the two chairs facing him. Mulder 
fidgeted, while Scully stared off into the middle distance. She hadn't 
seen Mulder's report, but she was sure it didn't resemble hers. As 
usual, they had two very different explanations as to what exactly had 
occurred. This case wasn't even an x-file, and at the moment she was a 
lot more intrigued by the message from Marsh the dispatcher handed her a 
few minutes ago.

Skinner laid the papers on the blotter in front of him, carefully 
aligning the edges. "So," he summarized, looking at neither of them, 
"Marty Glenn killed Charles Gotts, but you believe that Gotts killed the 
others?"

"Yes, sir," Scully responded, hoping this would be quick. 

"And the Wilmington police are satisfied with that?"

"Yes, sir," she echoed.

Skinner nodded, seemingly satisfied. Then he looked at Mulder. "Why did 
you visit the prisoner this morning, Agent Mulder?"

"I just wanted to clear up a few details, sir," Mulder admitted. *What's 
the big deal?*

"Something you neglected to put in your report?" Skinner queried.

Mulder glanced at Scully, wondering how she had presented the case. As 
if it had ever mattered before if they agreed or not. He took a breath. 
*To hell with this* "I wanted to know why she wasn't making a 
self-defense plea."

Skinner feigned surprise. "The facts certainly don't support 
that--unless of course you know something Agent Scully doesn't."

"There is reason to believe that the subject experienced visual 
documentation of the earlier crimes being committed, and as a witness, 
was in danger herself," Mulder stated emphatically.

Skinner looked at Scully. "Do you believe Marty Glenn _saw_ those crimes 
being committed?"

"No, sir, I do not."

*Thanks partner* Mulder drew his head in a little closer to his 
shoulders. *Why does she always have to be so damn precise?*

Scully continued unperturbed. "Both Agent Mulder and myself witnessed 
the evoked brainstem visual response tests that were administered to 
Marty Glenn. She _is_ blind."

Skinner looked pained. He cast a weary glance at Mulder.

"But," Scully stated, deflecting Skinner's wrath for the moment, "it 
does appear that Ms. Glenn had some perception of the crimes. However, 
the exact mechanism by which that was accomplished remains unclear. 
Perhaps with further testing--"

Mulder shook his head. "She refused."

"Then we'll never know," Scully said with finality.

Skinner pinned Mulder to the chair with his eyes. "Your _job_, Agent 
Mulder, is to investigate the crimes, not try them."

"I thought my job was to discover the truth," Mulder bristled.

Skinner leaned back an inch in his chair, his only sign of concession. 
"If the Wilmington police are happy, then the case is officially closed. 
In the future, Agent Mulder, take a page from your partner's book and 
stick to the facts in your reports. Just because the x-files is still in 
existence doesn't mean people aren't watching your work, and looking for 
some reason to shut you down."

"What _people_, sir?" Mulder asked sarcastically. *Do even _you_ know 
their names?*

Skinner ignored him, carefully initially the bottoms of each page of 
their reports.

Mulder and Scully rose together, eager to end the post-mortem. 

"Sit down, Agent Scully," Skinner requested, trying not to make it sound 
like an order.

Mulder cast a questioning glance at his partner, but her neutral 
expression told him nothing. He hated it when Skinner split them up, but 
there was nothing he could do about it. He left with as much nonchalance 
as he could muster.

Skinner waited until the door was firmly closed. He dropped his pen, 
steepling his hands before his chest, elbows planted on the arms of his 
chair. He surveyed her critically. Perfectly attired, perfectly 
composed, as usual. "How is Dr. Black?"

Scully never blinked. "She's fine, sir."

"Working yet?"

"Not for a few more days."

He removed his glasses, rubbed his eyes. "I take it you see her 
regularly?"

Scully faced him squarely, her expression unchanged. "Are you _asking_ 
me, AD Skinner, about my relationship with Marshall Black?" There was a 
hint of challenge in her voice.

"No, Agent Scully," Skinner bit back, his eyes flashing. "_I'm_ not 
asking, and you are not required to explain."

She waited.

He fixed her with that flat stare he used when he was trying to 
intimidate her or Mulder into seeing reason. "Someone may ask. What 
then?"

She didn't hesitate. "If asked--which I might point out is against 
regulations--I will not lie." Her eyes were as hard as his. *I won't 
deny her. I won't deny _us_*

He sighed almost imperceptibly. "And I don't suppose Marsh would 
either."

The corner of Scully's mouth lifted in the faintest smile. Her tone 
softened just thinking about her headstrong lover. "I would think that 
very unlikely, sir."

He couldn't read her thoughts, but her body language was plain. It was 
serious, all right. "In that case, considering the recent attack on Dr. 
Black's life, it might not be a bad idea if you kept her under 
unofficial surveillance. For the time being. I'll put a note to that 
effect in your orders."

Scully couldn't hide her surprise. "Why--"

He interrupted before she could ask the question he couldn't answer 
himself. "You both have valuable jobs to do. I don't want your work 
impeded over false issues. See that that doesn't happen, Agent Scully."

She stood, her eyes relaying her appreciation of his honesty. "Yes, sir. 
Thank you, sir."

Skinner watched her as she walked toward the door, but it wasn't Scully 
he saw.

**********

 It was July 4th, 1981.

"You know I hate these things," he growled. 

"It's a requirement, honey," Sharon Skinner said. "You have to socialize 
if you want to get ahead. And somehow, I can't see you as a training 
instructor for the rest of your life."

"It suits me just fine," he said, only slightly annoyed. They had been 
married long enough that he knew Sharon would accept whatever decision 
he made about the promotion. He couldn't see himself sitting behind a 
desk, but the idea of being Section Chief was appealing. Sharon patted 
his rear affectionately and left him morosely flipping hamburgers while 
she went to greet their guests.

"Hey, Walt," a familiar female voice said in his ear. "Who's the new 
fish you brought to the party?"

He glanced sideways at the tall lanky blonde next to him. She was 
grinning, a confident, somewhat suggestive grin, one hand in the back 
pocket of her jeans, the other cradling a beer. He'd seen that look 
before, in the early hours of the morning, in hotel lounges or dark 
smokey bars, when they were out of town on a case, and Karen didn't want 
to sleep alone.

"My new trainee. Sharon bugged me to invite her."

"Good for Sharon. I'll have to thank her."

"Come on, Karen," Skinner growled. "She's just a kid."

"She must be legal, if she's in the program. Besides, an FBI agent has 
to learn to take care of herself."

Skinner couldn't explain exactly why he felt so protective. Maybe it was 
just because Marsh was younger than most of the recruits, even though 
she was a medical school graduate. She was one of those precocious kids 
who condensed high school, college, and medical school into one intense 
foreshortened marathon. It wasn't that she seemed immature, anything 
but. She was focused and intense, exactly what you would expect. But 
there was something in her eyes, something he recalled in the eyes of 
the boys around him in the jungles of Vietnam. Something lost, and 
lonely. "She doesn't need the kind of training you're offering, 
Summers," he snarled.

Karen laughed, the epitome of feline seductiveness. "Relax, Walt, I'm 
not going to hurt her."

"Yeah right," he mumbled to himself as he watched her wend her way 
through the crowd in his backyard toward Marshall Black. He didn't need 
his wife's recounting of her old college roommate's multiple conquests 
to know that Karen Summers left a trail of broken hearts in her wake. He 
had seen enough over the last six years to know she was the _love them 
and leave them_ type. He wondered on occasion if there had ever been 
anything between his wife and his previous partner, back in their 
younger days. He pushed the thought from his mind. He didn't want to 
know. "Shit," he muttered when he saw Summers and his young trainee 
wander off together.

The next morning was the first time Marsh had ever been late for class. 
She tried to slide into her seat unnoticed, but Skinner fixed her with a 
steely glare.

"Nice of you to make it, Black," he snapped.

"Yes sir, sorry sir," Marsh said smartly. That was the last thing she 
remembered about the rest of Skinner's lecture. She kept replaying, over 
and over, the previous night.

"Come on over to my place for a nightcap," Karen had said. Marsh had 
agreed eagerly, happy to spend more time with the charismatic, older 
field agent. Somehow, before the night was over, Karen had kissed her. 
And Marsh had kissed her back. She was lost with the first kiss. Karen 
was passionate in bed, charming and funny with her colleagues, and 
fierce on the street. She was everything Marsh wanted, and wanted to be. 

Everyone who noticed knew it wouldn't last.

Nearly a year later they were still together. No one was more surprised 
than Walter Skinner. He had known Karen Summers a lot of years, and he 
had never known her to be serious about anyone. But then what the hell 
did he know?

He wished he could have known it would be their last conversation. It 
was the story of his life, never saying what he wanted to say until long 
after it didn't matter anymore.

Karen had been suiting up with the rest of HRT team, closing the  velcro 
tabs on the vest that was supposed to be impenetrable. She looked over 
at him as she strapped on her weapons.

"Are you bringing the kid?" she asked casually.

"Yes."

"Make sure she stays in the van, will you?" Karen asked, her voice 
pitched low so that the others around her would not hear. "You know how 
fast these things can go bad."

Skinner looked at her in surprise. He had never seen her quite so 
solemn. "Are you okay?"

"Absolutely," she grinned, cocky as ever. "Nothing I like better than 
snipers. But she's still wet behind the ears. I don't want her getting 
under foot."

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you're actually serious about this 
one," Skinner grunted.

Karen shrugged sheepishly, a glow in her eyes even Skinner couldn't 
miss. "You might be right, but don't tell her that." She slugged him 
affectionately on the shoulder as she left to join the team.

Two hours later, Skinner was screaming for a medic, while everywhere 
around him, men cursed. The only thing he could hear was Marsh, 
pleading, as the blood welled up between her fingers.

"Oh Jesus, please, Karen--please don't die, baby. I'm here--oh god, I 
love you-- please hold on. Don't leave me, please --please--somebody 
--help me. Karen, oh god, Karen--"

They had to drag her away from the body.

**********

Skinner pulled off his glasses and tossed them on his desk in disgust. 
He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, forcing back the memories. 
Karen was dead. His wife had divorced him. The young recruit was gone, 
changed forever. Now there was Scully--and Dr. Marshall Black. This was 
one nightmare he was not going to relive.

He pulled out Scully's file, and reached for his pen.


**********


Mulder was slumped in one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs in the hall 
outside Skinner's office, waiting. "What did he say?" he inquired as he 
unfolded himself to join his partner.

Scully shook her head, perplexed. "I'm not sure. It wasn't about the 
case."

"Then what _ was _ it about?"

"It was about Marsh."

Mulder looked at her quickly in concern. "Was he giving you trouble?"

"No. I _think_ he was telling me he didn't care about us."

Mulder considered it. Skinner had always been fair with them, although 
sometimes he was so _ by the book _ that he seemed adversarial. On the 
other hand, Mulder couldn't recall a single instance when Skinner had 
interfered in their personal lives. "Maybe he doesn't. Nice of him to 
say."

"Yes," Scully commented, still surprised. It was hard to believe that 
anyone actually cared who she slept with. *I guess I'm supposed to feel 
grateful* She didn't. What she felt was outrage at the fact that her 
personal life was anyone's business but her own. And she'd be damned if 
she would explain or defend it to anyone. "Actually I don't care what he 
thinks."

"Are you going to start wearing one of those little pink triangle pins 
soon?" 

"No, I thought I'd get a button that said _ How dare you presume I'm 
straight_ "

"Oh, that's much better, Scully. Subtler," Mulder observed wryly.

Scully smiled. "Don't worry about it, Mulder. I'll be fine. Besides, 
I've got more important things to worry about."

"Like what?"

"Like flying to Boston tonight to meet Marsh's family."

"Yep. That's definitely on my list of potentially life-threatening 
experiences," Mulder proclaimed, shuddering. "Better you than me."

Scully pictured Marsh as she had last seen her that morning, anxiously 
awaiting Scully's response to her invitation. She had been both 
beautiful and vulnerable. Scully smiled, her eyes radiant. "For once, 
Mulder, you are absolutely right."

**********

Friday 6:50 pm Georgetown

"Okay," Scully remarked as she slid into the front seat of Marsh's 
Porsche. "What's with the cryptic message?"

"Cryptic?" Marsh queried as she pulled out into the early evening 
traffic.

Scully rested one hand lightly on Marsh's bluejean clad thigh. "Mmmm, 
you know, meet me by the forked tree at midnight, come alone, bring the 
money."

Marsh laughed, covering Scully's hand with her own. "I believe what I 
said was _ I'll pick you up at seven. Pack light _" 

"So why won't you tell me any details?"

"It's a surprise," Marsh said softly.

Scully studied Marsh's profile as she drove. The angles of her face--the 
strong jaw, the prominent cheek bones, the deep set eyes--were softened 
by the barely perceptible smile that pushed upwards at the corner of her 
finely drawn lips. She was exquisite. "I love you."

Marsh's fingers tightened around Dana's. "Lord, I love you too." She 
glanced at her lover, and for an instant dark eyes melded to blue, and 
the air grew heavy with promises unspoken.

"Marsh," Scully said, her voice husky.

"Hmm?" Marsh responded, mesmerized by the way the lights from passing 
vehicles shimmered over Dana's delicately etched features. She was as  
hauntingly lovely today as she had been the first time she had seen her 
four years ago. She never tired of looking at her.

"You just passed the airport," Scully murmured, struggling 
unsuccessfully to quiet the storm brewing in her body. 

Marsh nodded, pulling over to the exit for the adjoining commuter 
terminal. She stopped the Porsche in front of the small control tower, 
leaving the engine running as she got out. "I'll be back in a second."

Scully watched her as she sprinted up the sidewalk. She wore a dark 
brown leather flight jacket over a v-necked sweater, her jeans, and 
well-worn brown boots. Scully felt herself grow damp. *god, she's sexy. 
And I am in _ so _ much trouble. How am I supposed to keep my hands off 
her for an entire weekend?*

She tried to take her mind off her physical state by watching the 
activity around her. She didn't notice Marsh approach until Marsh leaned 
down through the open window and kissed her. The heat of Marsh's mouth 
did nothing to quell her arousal.

"We're all set," Marsh said after releasing her from the kiss.

"I hope you got us seats in the back," Scully muttered, shifting on the 
seat in a vain attempt to lessen the uncomfortable pressure between her 
legs. Forget the weekend, she wasn't going to be able to make it through 
the night if she didn't get Marsh alone soon. Never in her life had 
anyone affected her this way. If she thought about it too long, she 
would surely panic. Need was not something she was comfortable with.

Marsh grinned as she maneuvered the Porsche between the rows of small 
planes. "Not exactly."

They came to a stop beside an open hanger adjacent to the runway. Marsh 
reached behind the seat for their bags. Scully looked over at the small 
plane two men were wheeling out. One of them waved hello.

Scully climbed hastily out of the car, fixing Marsh with a piercing 
glance. "Tell me you're flying that plane."

"I'm flying that plane," Marsh responded, smiling broadly.

Scully stepped close enough that their shoulders touched. She wanted to 
put her arms around her, but she settled for a quick squeeze of her 
hand. "It's a wonderful surprise--just like you."

Marsh turned slightly so her back was to her plane and the mechanics, 
bending her head to kiss Dana swiftly on the lips. "Lucky for me you 
think so."

**********

Boston 10:45 p.m.

"You were supposed to be nervous in the plane, not now," Marsh remarked, 
gently teasing. Dana had been strangely quiet ever since leaving the 
airport in Boston. She took one hand from the wheel, slipping it into 
the thick, rich hair at the base of Dana's neck. She massaged the tight 
muscles, silently waiting.

Scully leaned back into Marsh's hand, letting Marsh's strong fingers 
drive the tension from her body. "This is the first time I've ever met 
anyone's family," she confessed. "I'm not nervous. Just a little 
performance anxiety."

Marshall laughed. "Believe me, darling, there is nothing wrong with your 
performance."

Scully squeezed Marsh's thigh affectionately. "I hardly think your 
family will be judging me on my lovemaking capabilities."

She didn't miss the serious tone beneath Dana's jest. "They won't be 
judging you at all. I would never subject you to that. You won't have to 
wonder what they're thinking, either. My mother and grandfather are 
known for speaking their minds. Please don't worry."

Scully smiled, not wanting to concern her. "I managed to survive medical 
school interviews and the FBI screening tests. This should be a snap."

Marsh pulled through the wrought iron gates that fronted on a long 
winding driveway. Up ahead, lights blazed in a three-story Victorian 
estate. "I love you, Dana. You're all that matters to me."

"You can believe I'll remember that every second," Scully assured her. 
She glanced at the formidable edifice looming large in the dark. She 
realized Marsh had said very little about her family. A sudden thought 
froze the blood in her veins. "They _do_ know about you, don't they? 
They're not expecting you to bring home a man?"

Marsh laughed, pulling the rented BMW around the circular drive, 
stopping in front of a wide front staircase. "My mother always said she 
knew from the time I was two."

"Thank God I won't be the first woman they're meeting," Scully breathed 
in relief.

Marsh looked past Scully toward the house, but her gaze was reflective. 
"Actually, you _are_ the first." Her voice held the barest hint of 
sadness. There had never been time.

Scully ran her hand through the soft wavy hair that brushed against 
Marsh's collar, gently cupping her jaw. She turned Marsh's face to her 
until their eyes met and held. She might have been jealous of that first 
love, if she hadn't seen the softening of Marsh's expression when Marsh 
looked at her, and the obvious love in her eyes. She watched Marsh 
return from the past to her. "I also intend to be the last," Scully 
stated firmly.

 Marsh's spirits lifted, and she pulled Dana against her. "God, how I 
love you."

Dana Scully smiled. Never had anything sounded quite so good. "Let's go 
in before I'm tempted to make a spectacle of myself in your driveway."

"Hold on to that thought," Marsh murmured, kissing her swiftly before 
pushing the door open and swinging her long legs out. *Like I could 
resist her if she wanted to fuck on the front porch*

As Scully stepped from the car she saw a shadow moving swiftly around 
the corner of the house, directly for Marsh. Everything happened at 
once. "Marsh, get down!" Even as she spoke, Marsh was blind-sided and 
sent sprawling. Scully reached for her gun, only to remember it was 
locked in her luggage. She was about to tackle the large form pinning 
her lover to the ground when she heard Marsh laugh.

"Pilot, you fool! Get off of me!" Marsh sputtered.

Scully sagged against the fender of the sports coupe, staring at a huge 
brindle Great Dane, thinking how close she might have come to shooting 
the dog had she had her weapon.

Marsh managed to get to her feet, avoiding the dog's exuberant kisses. 
One look at Dana brought her instantly to her side. "Hey, what is it? 
You're shaking!"

Scully shook her head, grasping Marsh's hand. "For a second, I thought 
you were being attacked. God! If I'd had my gun I could have killed 
him."

Scully pressed her forehead to Marsh's chest, willing her nervous system 
to equilibrate. She tightened her arms around Marsh's slender form 
unconsciously, assuring herself Marsh was safe.

Marsh felt the lingering tremors. "What's going on, Dana?" she 
questioned gently, rubbing her cheek lightly against Scully's hair. She 
gathered her closer in her embrace, wanting nothing more in the world 
than to comfort her. This was not the cool, unflappable FBI agent Scully 
appeared to the world; this was the woman who had awakened in her arms 
that morning, and she was hurting.

Scully sighed in frustration. *Get a grip here, Dana. So you 
overreacted. You don't need to make her paranoid, too* She tilted her 
head up, forcing a smile. "I'm a little on edge since you went missing 
on me." Marsh had almost no memory of those nightmarish twenty hours, 
but for Dana every minute had been an eternity in hell. *On edge?? 
Terrified, actually, that someone will decide to finish the job*

Marsh studied Scully's face for what she wasn't saying, and caught just 
a flicker of fear, quickly extinguished, in her amazingly expressive 
eyes. She knew the cause. "Oh, love," she murmured, "don't. I promise 
you, I have no intention of leaving you, in this life or any other."

*But you can't promise that, can you?* Death was no stranger. Scully 
pushed away the last remnants of her disquiet. She would see that 
nothing threatened Marsh again, no matter what it took. She wouldn't 
hesitate to do whatever was necessary. She _ would not _ lose Marsh. "We 
should get inside. The neighbors will talk."

Marsh laughed. There wasn't another house for half a mile. She took 
Scully's hand and grabbed the luggage with the other. "Come, Pilot," she 
called to her dog.

As Scully reached for the rest of the bags, she surveyed her lover's 
elegant countenance in the moonlight, the large regal dane at her side, 
and the mansion looming in the background. She was suddenly struck by 
the gothic image of it all. "Besides, I'm anxious to meet Mrs. Fairfax, 
my dear Mr. Rochester."

Marsh grinned, delighted at the sudden change in Dana's mood. Between 
the demands of Dana's job, and the recent agony of Marsh's 
disappearance, Dana's brilliant smile had been far too infrequent 
lately. "She might be out on a date with Mrs. Danvers. But welcome to 
Manderly, my darling."

"And I suppose you fancy yourself Maxim de Winter?" Scully teased as 
they climbed the stairs to the porch.

"Only you can answer that," Marsh whispered as the heavy front doors 
swung open. She grinned when she spied the small, grey-haired woman 
standing on the other side. "Mrs. Dovocek!! This is Dana!"

"And about time, too," the elderly woman chided in a still heavy slavic 
accent. She extended her arms fondly to Marsh. "I thought you were going 
to keep the girl standing outside all night." She hugged Marsh, then 
turned to Scully. "Welcome to Blackwood, my dear. Come in out of the 
cold! I've got something warm for you in the kitchen!"

Scully, thoroughly charmed, followed Marsh and Mrs. Dovocek down the 
hallway to a large modern kitchen in the rear of the house. The 
_something warm_ turned out to be tea and freshly baked cinnamon bread. 
It smelled heavenly, and Scully realized she was starving.

"Your mother has been held up at the governor's fundraiser, young 
Marshall," Mrs. Dovocek explained as she cut still steaming slices from 
the loaf. "She says you shouldn't wait up--she'll see you for 
breakfast."

Scully smiled as Marsh blushed. _Young Marshall_? Scully mouthed 
mischievously when Mrs. Dovocek turned away. Marsh looked endearingly 
discomfited, and Scully was nearly overcome with another wave of desire. 
*My god, I'm not fit for polite company!*

As if reading her mind, Marsh pushed her cup aside. "Mrs. D, this is 
wonderful, but would you mind if we took it upstairs with us? It's been 
a long day."

"Of course not. I'll fix a tray while you take your things to the master 
suite. Your mother said to put you in there."

Marsh studied the family housekeeper quizzically for a moment, trying to 
place something in her mind. A phrase kept repeating itself in her 
memory, but she couldn't quite make it out. There was something about 
Mrs. Dovocek's voice. She sighed in frustration, unable to capture it. 
She noticed Dana watching her with that penetrating gaze she got when 
she sensed something wasn't right. "Something I want to remember--but it 
keeps alluding me," she explained, clearly troubled.

Scully nodded, instantly vigilant. Marsh had shown no signs of any 
traumatic aftermath of her kidnapping, probably because the drugs she 
had been given were powerful amnestics that had literally expunged the 
events from her consciousness. Still, Scully was worried. "It's okay. 
Don't force it; it will come."

"You're right. I'm okay, really," Marsh said, reaching for the tray. 
Whatever it was, it would surface in it's own time.  "I'll take this, 
Mrs. D. We'll see you in the morning."

**********

"Put the tray down, Marsh," Scully commanded as she shut the bedroom 
door and turned the lock. She dumped their bags unceremoniously in the 
middle of the floor. She walked toward Marsh, unbuttoning her blouse, 
stepping out of her shoes. "You have exactly two seconds to get out of 
your clothes before I start doing damage to them."

Marsh had her sweater off and her jeans unbuttoned by the time Dana 
reached her. Her swift intake of breath turned to a groan as Scully's 
hands found her breasts and a firm thigh pushed between her legs. She 
lost her balance and barely landed on the bed before Dana was on top of 
her, bare skin to bare skin, her demanding tongue probing inside Marsh's 
mouth. Dimly she was aware of her jeans being not so gently pushed off 
her hips, and hot breath against her ear. She groaned again as teeth 
pulled at the sensitive skin below her jaw. The pleasure verged on pain 
as Dana squeezed first one nipple, then the other, sending pulses of 
excitement directly to her clit. She grabbed Dana's ass, pulling her 
closer, gasping as the soft hot skin of Dana's leg rubbed against her 
tensely swollen flesh. A quivering began in her belly. "Be careful, 
baby," she said urgently, "you'll make me come. You know I can't hold 
it."

Scully heard, but the words didn't penetrate her awareness. All she knew 
was the heady thrill of exciting her lover, of taking her into a realm 
where they belonged only to each other. Marsh yielded to her, trusting 
her, surrendering to her, and Scully wanted to possess her with all the 
tender power in her soul. She twisted one hand in Marsh's hair, pulling 
her head back, exposing her throat. As she pressed her lips to the 
pounding vessels, feeling the life force surge and ebb, she pushed 
inside with the other hand, groaning as the silken muscles closed around 
her fingers. Slowly, she stroked, sliding her thumb along the length of 
Marsh's clitoris with each pass. Each time she caressed the swollen 
shaft, Marsh whimpered, her legs trembling, the muscles in her taut 
abdomen twitching.

"Don't come, Marsh," Scully gasped hoarsely, "not yet." She tore her 
mouth away from the sweat slick skin of Marsh's neck, moving rapidly 
down to take Marsh's clitoris between her lips. She bit lightly at the 
base and Marsh jerked. Her own clit twitched in response. *Oh Jesus, I 
think _I'm_ going to come*

Marsh's hips arched off the bed as she cried, "Oh! Here it comes--oh, 
Dana--I'm coming--"

Scully pressed her fingers deeper, keeping her mouth around the wildly 
contracting flesh, moaning as an answering climax erupted between her 
legs, a thousand neurons discharging simultaneously, burning a path 
through her bones to her brain. She screamed as the fireball exploded, 
carrying her beyond conscious awareness.

She might have slipped from that out of body state into sleep if she 
hadn't heard Marsh sobbing. She hurriedly moved up beside her, gathering 
Marsh into her arms. She cradled Marsh's face against her breast, 
holding her fiercely. "What is it, sweetheart? Have I hurt you?"

Marsh struggled to contain her tears. "God no, you didn't hurt me. You 
just make me feel so damn _much_. You're in every part of me." She 
looked at Scully, her face a study in naked helplessness. "My soul would 
never survive without you now."

Her words pierced Scully to the core. She never dreamed love could be 
such sweet pain. She never imagined wanting anyone so much. "Oh god," 
she whispered, wanting nothing more than to touch every part of Marsh at 
once, able only to press close to her until not even the air separated 
them. "We belong to each other now. Nothing will ever change that."

As Marsh quieted in her embrace, finally drifting off, Scully lay awake, 
reluctant to allow even sleep to separate them.


**********


Saturday 8 am

"What do you think?"

"I think we should lock the door."

Scully blushed, amazed that Marsh's desire still surprised her. "The 
door _is_ locked. And don't come near me. Just tell me if I look okay."

Marsh threw her legs over the side of the large leather easy chair she 
was occupying, and leaned back, surveying Scully with a smile. "You look 
fantastic. That shade of green is perfect, the linen is just the right 
touch of casual elegance, and--the pants show off your tight little butt 
very nicely." She laughed, ducking as a pillow sailed past her head. She 
caught the next one in her hand as she crossed the room, grabbing Dana 
around the waist, kissing her swiftly. "Why don't you just wear a pair 
of jeans and a sweater? You'll be gorgeous in anything."

Scully let herself enjoy the firm planes of Marsh's body pressed to her 
own for a moment before gently extricating herself. "_You_ may be able 
to make a pair of 501s look like a fashion statement, but I can't." In 
fact faded jeans, along with a loose, off-white cashmere v-necked 
sweater was exactly what her tall, willowy lover was wearing. Scully 
knew Marsh didn't have anything else on under either one. "Lord, but 
you're sexy," Scully groaned. "Can't you find something a little less 
stimulating?"

Marsh grinned that crooked grin. "I'd rather distract you from your 
nervousness with a bit of erotic foreplay. Besides, I fell asleep last 
night before _I_ had a chance to undress _you_. You owe me."

"_I_ owe _you_!!" Scully exclaimed, trying desperately to contain a 
smile. "You are obnoxiously sure of yourself, Dr. Black!"

Marsh regarded the trim red head in the perfectly tailored outfit, the 
very definition of class and grace, and wondered in amazement how Dana 
could possibly _not_ know how magnificent she was. "You, Dr.                    
Scully, are _the_ most enticing woman I have ever seen. My mother is 
going to adore you, and my grandfather is going to want to run away with 
you."

Scully warmed under Marsh's approving glance, but the obvious omission 
didn't escape her. "Marsh, what about your father?"

Marsh shrugged. "I was getting to that, but I've never known the best 
time. There _is_ no Mr. Black. Never was. My mother is my grandfather's 
daughter, not his daughter-in-law. My sire, as it were, was a teacher, 
and married apparently. My mother was very young, but stubborn. She 
never let anyone suggest I was anything other than a Black, which is 
probably why she named me after my grandfather."

"It must not have been easy," Scully said softly. "She sounds quite 
remarkable. I can see where you get your confidence."

Marsh laughed. "Wait until you meet my grandfather."

Scully squared her shoulders unconsciously. "Yes, I think I'll like 
that."

**********

The woman who awaited them in the breakfast room looked impossibly young 
to be Marsh's mother. Marsh was more muscular than her mother, and had 
that slight hint of androgeny that Scully found so appealing, but other 
than that, Marsh's mother appeared to be a slightly older version of her 
daughter--tall, slender, with the same dark hair and deep gray eyes. She 
set down her cup and watched her daughter cross the room with a very 
attractive woman by her side. She could tell by the glow in Marshall's 
eyes that she was fairly bursting with pride.

"Mother, this is Dana Scully," Marsh said as she leaned down to kiss her 
mother's cheek.

"Claire Black, Dr. Scully," she said as she extended her hand.

"Please," Scully said with a smile. "It's Dana."

"I'm very happy to meet you, Dana," Claire amended. 

The hour that followed was filled with easy conversation, and some 
charming stories about Marsh's childhood that made Marsh groan and 
Scully laugh with pleasure. As they lingered over their last cups of 
coffee, Claire turned to Marsh. "You should call your grandfather, 
darling. He's going to be anxious to see you."

"I thought we'd stop there this afternoon. I'll be right back," Marsh 
told Scully, brushing her fingers over Scully's hand as she stepped 
away.

Scully watched her go, then returned her attention to Claire. Claire was 
watching _her_. "What is it you wanted to ask me?" Scully said softly.

Claire smiled ruefully. "Am I that obvious?"

Scully shook her head. "Your face is as expressive as Marsh's."

"Marshall told me about you some time ago. She said on the phone then 
that she loves you. I can see from the way she looks at you that she 
does," she began. Her dark eyes met Scully's. "The only thing that 
concerns me is her happiness. She has been alone a very long time, and 
she's not the kind of person who is meant to live without love. She has 
suffered for the lack of it."

Scully thought of Marsh's tears falling on her breast just a few hours 
before. She thought of the loneliness of her own existence before 
awakening from a nightmare to find Marsh at her side. "I'm not sure any 
of us are truly meant to live without it; we just tell ourselves we 
can." *And I believed it, until I met her* She took a deep breath, 
meeting Claire's steady gaze. "She won't be alone again, I can promise 
you that." Scully hoped with all her heart she could keep that pledge.

Claire could only nod as she heard Marsh approaching, but she squeezed 
Scully's hand in silent thanks.

"Has my mother been warning you about my bad habits?" Marsh asked as she 
joined them. She rested her hand lightly over Dana's where it lay on the 
table.

Scully smiled, giving her lover's hand a little shake. "Not all of them. 
Not yet!"

"Come on. I'm taking you for a stroll along the Charles before we go 
visiting. That way, my mother won't be able to tell you any more 
stories," Marsh announced.

"I'd love a walk, but don't think that's going to save you. I intend to 
hear all your childhood escapades before we leave!"

Marsh tugged her to her feet. "This place is dangerous to my 
reputation!"

**********

2:35 pm Saturday

The maid led them through the first floor of the old brownstone to the 
rear patio. Scully could see the resemblance to Marsh in the man who was 
stooped over a window box of young plants, carefully removing stray 
weeds. He turned at their approach, pulling off worn work gloves to 
extend a hand to Scully.

"How do you do, my dear," he said in a rich, full baritone.

"I'm fine, sir," Scully replied. He looked ten years younger than she 
knew he was, and he projected an air of sophisticated gentry. She 
followed Marsh to a stone bench off to one side of the flagstone patio, 
while Marsh's grandfather sat in a wicker rocker facing them. They 
helped themselves to iced tea from a serving cart near at hand.

"I've been waiting a long time for my granddaughter to bring someone 
home," he remarked unexpectedly.

Scully blushed. *Marsh _did_ say he was direct!* In her own family they 
had rarely discussed their feelings, sometimes until it had been too 
late.

He continued with an understanding smile. "You'll discover when you get 
to be my age, Dana, that small talk can be a waste of precious time. I'm 
afraid I have no patience for it any longer."

Scully nodded, liking his candor.

"I was rather hoping you might turn out to be an ally, Dana," he said 
after a moment.

"Sir?" Scully asked in surprise. She thought she heard a faint sigh from 
Marsh. 

"Marshall probably hasn't told you that she's been a bit of a 
disappointment to us," he continued.

Scully stiffened slightly. She didn't care if he _was_ Marsh's 
grandfather, she wasn't going to listen to criticism about Marsh, no 
matter how bad an impression she made. "I find that impossible to 
believe." Her tone was hard, and she made no effort to soften it.

She thought she detected a glint of approval in his eyes.

"It's this stubborn infatuation with medicine she seems to have."

Scully glanced at Marsh in confusion. Marsh gave her a sympathetic 
smile.

"Granddad, do you think you could at least wait until after dinner to 
badger Dana about this?" Marsh requested, her tone suggesting this was a 
familiar conversation.

"Carpe diem, Marshall," he continued unperturbed, turning his attention 
to Scully once again. "She was raised to take over the business, you 
see, and thus far she has refused. I've given up trying to convince her 
that she is making a mistake. My only hope has been that when she found 
someone she loved, she'd listen to them."

Scully nearly laughed. Never in her wildest imagination could she have 
envisioned this conversation. She wasn't even entirely sure he was 
serious. "I can assure you, sir, I don't have that kind of influence 
over her, nor would I want it."

Marsh spoke up. "Besides the fact that I _like_ being a doctor, I'm 
hardly suited for that kind of life."

"If you're talking about your relationship with Dana, I shouldn't 
worry," her grandfather pronounced. "Businessmen don't care about that 
sort of thing. That's for priests and politicians who need something to 
talk about. How you manage the money is the bottom line."

"It's not for me," Marsh said with finality.

He looked at Scully. "And you won't make her see reason."

Scully shook her head solemnly, holding in a smile. "I'm afraid it's 
beyond my powers, sir."

He shrugged his shoulders in acquiescence. "I was hoping to find just 
one person in the family who saw things my way. I suppose it has 
something to do with the differences between men and women. Women 
seem to have this inherent need to follow their hearts. Men are much 
more practical."

"We're not exactly conventional, granddad," Marsh pointed out with a 
laugh.

He regarded his heir, the affection in his eyes evident. "It would still 
be nice to have some male company. Perhaps you and Dana could work on 
having a son while I'm still around."

Marsh exploded in fond protest. "We're hardly at the point to be 
discussing children!!"

If pressed, Scully wouldn't have been able to recount a single word of 
the conversation that followed. She must have participated, because 
neither of them seemed to be regarding her oddly, but her mind felt 
frozen. She hadn't thought, hadn't _wanted_ to think, about what this 
might mean for her and Marsh. The short car ride back to Marsh's 
mother's was mercifully silent. She wasn't sure she could form coherent 
sentences.

Marsh waited until they were upstairs, alone. Dana was at the window, 
staring down into the gardens. Marsh went to her, gently easing her arms 
around her waist from behind. She rested her chin on Dana's shoulder, 
her cheek against Dana's. "What is it?" she softly asked.

"There's something you need to know," Scully said, her voice curiously 
flat. She looked at the beginnings of new life bursting from the spring 
soil, but she didn't see the tender young growth. Her vision was of her 
own internal landscape, stretching endlessly forward like the dry sands 
of the Sahara. 

Marsh steeled herself. She had waited so long for love to come to her 
again, long after the hope of it ever happening had vanished. All her 
dreams resided in Dana's smile, in the touch of her hand and the warmth 
of her body in the night. She feared nothing, not even death, as much as 
she feared losing her. Her heart would never heal. "Tell me," Marsh 
whispered.

"Four years ago I was--kidnapped. I don't know by whom, I can't 
remember. Whoever took me put the chip in my neck."

"The chip that saved you," Marsh stated, remembering what Dana had told 
her about the cancer.

Scully laughed hollowly. "It may be the disease as well as the cure. 
I'll probably never know."

Marsh waited, knowing it was not over. *How much more has she had to 
bear?*

"Whoever _gave_ me the chip apparently took something as well. They 
extracted the eggs from my ovaries. All of them. As far as I know, I'm 
sterile."

Marsh closed her eyes, willing herself not to shake. This was a 
nightmare the proportions of which she could not begin to imagine. This 
wasn't human; this went beyond monstrous. She swallowed painfully. She 
wanted to scream. Dana was as still and silent as a statue, and just as 
remote. *I need you, Dana. Don't let this separate us* She turned her 
head, brushed her lips across the pale smooth cheek. "I'll live on your 
love for the rest of my life," Marsh said softly. "It's all I need, and 
all I'll ever want."

"I didn't think--," Scully began, running her fingers lightly up and 
down Marsh's arms as they lay encircling her body. "I was so happy just 
to _be_ with you. I didn't think about the future."

Marsh laughed ever so gently. "I don't think we have to plan all the 
details just yet."

"Would it have made a difference--if you'd known?" Scully couldn't help 
but ask. There was so much she couldn't be sure of--what had they 
_really_ done to her? What else would she discover had been altered, 
manipulated-- destroyed-- during the time she had been unaware.

"Not for a second," Marsh said fiercely, holding her tightly. She took a 
breath, then took a chance. "I've never had a burning desire to be 
pregnant, but the idea of raising a child with you at some point is 
appealing. _If_ we ever decide to do that, I have eggs. With in vitro 
fertilization, _you_ could carry the child. If you wanted."

Scully was quiet a long time, thinking of that other child, who she had 
not born, but who had carried her genetic legacy. She thought of her as 
her daughter, despite the absence of physical connection. With her 
death, she had abandoned all hope of having another. She was almost 
afraid to consider what Marsh was offering. It was a gift nearly as 
precious as the love Marsh tendered so selflessly.

"I can just imagine what Skinner would have to say," Scully finally said 
shakily, her voice thick with unshed tears. *God, you make me feel 
loved*

"Let me take care of Walter," Marsh murmured, turning Scully to face 
her, lifting Scully's chin to claim her lips. Her kiss carried all the 
intensity of the words she hadn't said--*I love you; I'm so sorry for 
what you've suffered; I'd give my life to undo it*

Scully kissed her back--*You give me hope; you give me dreams; you give 
me the future*

"Marsh," Scully asked breathlessly, finally lifting her lips away, "how 
much time do we have?"

"Time enough," Marsh growled, sliding her hands up to cup Scully's 
breasts, her fingers searching for the nipples through the shear fabric 
of Scully's blouse. When Scully pulled her hands away, Marsh draw back 
uncertainly. 

"What's wrong?" Marsh asked with concern.

"Take my clothes off; take me to bed; take your time," Scully commanded 
hoarsely. "I don't want to feel anything but you."

Marsh took Dana's hand, leading her gently across the room to the side 
of the bed. She knelt to slip Scully's shoes off, then reached up to 
ease the linen slacks down over her thighs. "Anything you desire," Marsh 
whispered, as she slowly and reverently expressed her devotion.

**********

"Kindly remove your hands," Scully ordered in a voice she barely 
recognized. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Marsh--stop. We 
have to get up."

Scully lay face down, with Marsh lying along the length of her body, one 
hand between Dana's legs, inside her. The other was under her, barely 
brushing the soft, wet triangle from the front. Together Marsh's hands 
formed a circle, holding her, enclosing her, owning her.

Marsh's lips were a whisper away from Scully's ear. "I can't. Not while 
you're still so ready." Her words brought an answering contraction from 
deep inside her lover. She groaned and began to slowly massage the 
smooth inner vault with her fingers.

Scully closed her eyes, arching her hips, rocking in time to Marsh's 
gentle but firm hands. With each movement her clitoris rubbed along 
Marsh's palm, adding to the stimulation that seemed to be everywhere at 
once. She needed just a little more contact--just the barest attention 
to the tip and she would crest. "Oh yes, oh yes--" she gasped, feeling 
the distant spasms begin. She clenched her jaws to hold back the scream. 
Every muscle was tight, poised for the explosion. Marsh slid her fingers 
forward,stroking them over Scully's clit from the base to the tip. "Oh 
God!" Scully cried as the rolling waves of almost painful intensity 
began. "Oh, I'm coming!"

It went on forever, the last lingering tremors wrenching small cries 
from her lips. Sully turned so that her breasts met Marsh's, their legs 
entwining, their tongues clashing in a desperate exchange of mutual 
need. When Scully finally broke contact she could still barely focus, 
her body drained from the physical and emotional catharsis. She felt 
rather than saw the adoration in Marsh's gaze. "Thank you," Scully 
murmured.

Marsh smiled gently, luxuriating in the satisfaction of having pleased 
her lover. "I love you, Dana." She stretched, peering past Dana to her 
watch on the night table. "And in half an hour, the rest of my extended 
family will get a chance to love you, too."

Scully's eyes snapped open, instantly alert as only doctors and cops can 
be at a moment's notice. "Tell me you're lying!"

Marsh grinned, impudent and infuriatingly desirable. "I'd _never_--"

Scully was out of bed before Marsh could capture one last kiss. "Hey!" 
Marsh called to her swiftly disappearing lover, "is that any way to 
leave me?"

Scully turned from the door to the bathroom, goddess beautiful in her 
nakedness, and fixed Marsh with a look that could stop a man twice her 
size in his tracks. "You owe me big time, Black. I'm not done with you, 
so don't expect to be getting any sleep tonight."

Marsh crossed to join her, slipping an arm around her waist. "Promise?" 
she asked, her voice husky.

Scully regarded her seriously. "It will take more than one lifetime for 
me to be done with you."

"Then we've got plenty of time."

**********

End Genesis III: Forging the Bonds 04/04