TITLE: Genesis V: Hiding in the Light 01/04
AUTHOR: Radclyffe 
EMAIL ADDRESS: rdclyfhall@hotmail.com 
ARCHIVE: anywhere 
RATING: NC-17; This story depicts graphic sexual encounters between 
same-sex consenting adults. 
CATEGORY: Romance 
SPOILERS: Up to Folie a Deux
KEYWORDS: Scully/Other(female);Scully/Slash 
SUMMARY: Scully, Marsh, and Mulder struggle with demons, past and 
present.

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.

**********

FBI Headquarters
Washington, DC

AD Walter Skinner stared in amazement at the intercom on his desk. It 
was making noise. That should not be happening. He expressly told his 
secretary he was not to be disturbed. He had reports of his own that 
needed to be done, and so many agents in the field he felt like a 
puppeteer. If any of his people wanted him, they had his private number. 
Shit. Sometimes this office felt like Grand Central Station. He stabbed 
at the button on the goddamned buzzing box.

"What?" he barked.

"I'm sorry, sir, but there's a Marshall Bla-- _Hey_! You can't --"

Skinner looked up in disbelief, barely able to maintain his 
expressionless facade, as the door to his office blew open and a very 
stormy-looking Marshall Black stalked toward his desk. He forced himself 
not to lean back in his chair. She wasn't heavy, but she was tall -- 
lithe, sabre-sharp and radiating fury. He had forgotten how feral she 
could be when angered.

"Why am I out of the loop?!" Marsh demanded, leaning down, 
straight-arming his desk. Her dark eyes burned fiercely in a face pale 
and hard as granite.

"I didn't hear you knock," he said, his tone glacial.

"Because I _didn't_! Goddamn it, Walter, why are you stonewalling me 
here? I called Herb Myers for a consult this morning and his office said 
he'd been called away on an emergency. Since he works for me, and _I_ 
didn't know anything about it, I figured it must have been you." She 
stared at him, willing him to refute her accusations. She had a very bad 
feeling about what he was going to say.

"I sent Herb to Chicago three hours ago." Shit. He had been hoping the 
whole mess would be resolved by now. In fact, if he didn't hear 
something positive from the SAC out there soon, _he_ was going to have 
to go himself. 

"What is it?" she asked, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. He 
didn't need to know, would never know, how much it demanded of her every 
time he called. "Covert or hostage?"

He cursed himself, and not for the first time. He should never have 
started using her, but she was so damn good, and there had never been 
one solid reason not to. And she _was_ the fucking chief of trauma, for 
Christ's sake. But he felt it -- what she hid from every one who didn't 
know her like he did. He felt her bleed every time he sent her into the 
field. She was fine with black ops situations, when a man was down who 
needed attention, and couldn't be handled through ordinary channels for 
security reasons. *Deny all knowledge* missions. It was the fiascos like 
this Oak Brook stand-off, where the potential for civilian _and_ bureau 
casualties was high, that stretched her to the breaking point. This time 
he'd had a very good reason not to send her.

"Hostage," he admitted reluctantly. "Some office worker thinks he's 
seeing monsters and came to work with a rifle."

"Why didn't you call _me_?" Marsh asked, her stomach churning as she 
reached into the pocket of her grey wool trousers for the small piece of 
paper. Her fingers closed painfully around it.

"Because I called Herb," Skinner snapped. *Let it go, Marsh, just this 
once.*

"_Herb_ is a plastic surgeon, Walt -- a very good one -- if I ever break 
my face I want him to fix it. But he works for me -- _I'm_ the trauma 
surgeon. _I'm_ the head of the medical response team. _I'm_ the one who 
goes into the field." She leaned closer, nearly over his desk. "Try 
again."

Skinner rose swiftly, a panther springing from the grass. "Sit the fuck 
down, Black. And it's AD Skinner, in this office and anywhere else!"

Marsh hesitated for a second, considering his size, knowing his 
strength. She could still remember having been thrown by him back when 
he was her instructor, hitting the ground hard enough to drive the air 
from her lungs. She almost didn't care -- almost. Dana would be so 
pissed if she did something stupid here. Without knowing for sure. She 
stepped back, giving ground, but not relenting. She held out her hand, 
the crumpled note in her palm. "She left this on my desk. She said she 
had been called away suddenly. She said she'd call me as soon as she 
could. That was twelve hours ago." Marsh stared at him, daring him to 
pretend he didn't know. *She's never been gone this long before without 
calling me*

"She's in Chicago -" he grimaced. "Some little town outside of Chicago 
-- with Mulder --" He met her gaze squarely. If possible, she looked 
paler.

"With the hostage team?" Marsh asked quietly, her voice oddly hollow.

"Yes."

Not a muscle moved. "Goddamn you, _AD Skinner_," she said, each word 
falling like a hammer blow. "Why did you bypass me?"

A muscle in his jaw twitched. *You know why. I couldn't send you into 
something like that -- with her there*

"If something happens to her and I'm not there, I'll-- " She took a deep 
breath, acid in her throat. *Jesus, Black, don't go there*

"We _have_ a medical team on site--"

She laughed harshly. "Yeah, right. Paramedics and a goddamned plastic 
surgeon. You only have a minute, or have you forgotten? Five liters of 
blood in sixty seconds -- that's what the heart pumps out through a 
major gunshot wound. You want _Herb_ to handle that? You want to take 
that chance?"

He kept silent, but his eyes said he remembered. That he hadn't forgiven 
himself for bringing Marsh along that day, on the kind of mission that 
was notorious for going wrong. If she hadn't been there, she never would 
have seen Karen -- 

"I could have saved her --" Marsh said bitterly, as if reading his mind. 
*I _should_ have saved her*

"No," he barked. "Christ -- you were fresh out of med school!" He 
understood only years later why she really quit the bureau, returning to 
take a surgery residency, rising meteorically to the top of the 
specialty. *But you're not green now, are you, Marsh? Now you're a 
trauma surgeon, and you're going to spend the rest of your life trying 
to make up for her death*

"She wasn't dead, you know that, Walt. There was a hole the size of a 
half dollar in her trachea, and her jugular vein was pouring blood into 
it--" Marsh's eyes had gotten cloudy; she was watching the film roll 
again, the images still so clear, everything happening in slow motion -- 
the shot, Karen falling, the shouting, the flood of warmth on her hands 
as she tried to hold back the tide. Her voice was barely a whisper. "She 
drowned in her own fucking blood. I could have saved her--"

"You don't know that--" he rasped. *For Christ's sake, let her go* He 
forced himself to sit. "Agent Scully is not in danger."

"Are you sure? She's just like Karen -- she'll be the first one through 
the door--"

He heard her fear, wanted to rip it from her. "_No_ -- they're not the 
same. Karen is _dead_." He meant to shock her, drag her away from the 
hold of that long ago day, that long ago love. 

Marsh flinched. Her eyes cleared. She swallowed. "I'd like to be there, 
sir. It's my job." She wouldn't say it, but he knew. *She's my life*

"Get out to the airfield," he said gruffly, reaching for a stack of 
files, dismissing her. "You can catch a lift with the relief teams."

"Thank you. Sir." 

He watched her out the door. Then he pressed the button on the intercom. 
"Get me someone on the ground in Chicago. I want to know what the fuck's 
going on out there."

**********

Oak Brook, Ill
Outside VinalRight offices

It was controlled pandemonium. Marsh arrived just as the assault teams 
were getting into position. A huge steel-plated vehicle with a battering 
block extension was moving ponderously toward the building. HRT members 
were crouched beside it, helmeted, vested, shielded. Marsh knew one 
well-placed shot, or one lucky one, could reduce all that armor to 
superfluous baggage. She couldn't see Dana, but the emergency medical 
van was easy to pick out. So was Herb Myers' distinctive bulk. 

"Marsh!" the linebacker-sized man called, his relief evident. "Shit, am 
I glad to see you. We're going to have some business soon. I was just 
trying to remember how to put in a chest tube."

Marsh knew very well he could do it if pressed, but not as quickly as 
she could. And out here, quick response time was all they had to offer. 
"What's the situation?"

"One loony bastard holding a couple dozen civilians, plus one of ours -- 
shots fired about an hour ago." He looked from the swarm of people 
converging on the office complex to his chief when he heard her gasp. 
"Marsh? Hey, you okay?" She looked so unsteady he put his hand on her 
arm. She was trembling.

"Who--" she croaked. She took a breath, willed herself to focus. Tried 
to quell the panic. "Who's the agent inside?"

Herb had never seen anything shake her before. She was always the 
picture of control in a crisis. He searched for the name. "Um -- 
Miller-- Muller -- something like that. Why?"

Hers eyes closed for the briefest of seconds -- when they opened, they 
were focused, intense. "We need to go in right behind the first wave. If 
there's uncontrolled fire, we need to get to the victims fast. Point me 
toward the man in charge -- "

SAC Rice never questioned the tall, dark-haired woman who announced she 
was the head of the medical response unit and wanted to go with the 
secondary assault team. She seemed to know what she was doing, and he 
had a dozen other people waiting for his attention. He told her to get a 
vest and join the others.

Marsh saw Dana conferring with the HRT commander as they stared at a 
closed-circuit TV monitor, but there was no time to talk with her. If 
Mulder was a hostage, Dana had more than enough on her mind. Scully 
didn't notice Marsh join the group poised to enter the building through 
the hole about to be punched by the armored tank.

And then Marsh was running -- crowding forward through the dust and 
falling debris, deafened by first the rending of steel and 
disintegrating stone, then the hoarse shouts of adrenalized commandos 
ready for war. Mash jumped at the loud crack of gunfire, paralysed for 
an instant, before her conscious mind gave way to her training. She 
moved automatically, following the nightmare figures bristling with guns 
into the rubble. 

She saw Mulder, blood streaking his face, but standing, staring down at 
the man on the floor. She pushed past the commando stripping the 
kidnapper of weapons to kneel at the victim's side. His eyes were open; 
he was trying to speak despite the fist-sized hole in his chest. Most of 
his blood volume was crowding the space around his lungs or already on 
the floor. *No chance*

Marsh straightened up as Mulder leaned down, trying to catch the dying 
man's last words. She looked over his hunched figure into the deep blue 
eyes of her lover. Dana stared back at her in astonishment.

"You should be wearing a vest, Agent Scully," Marsh commented stonily as 
she stepped away. *This room is barely secure. Is he so important you 
would risk yourself?* She felt so cold. There was blood soaking into her 
shoes.

Scully barely recognized the woman she had slept with nearly every night 
for months. There was a frightening emptiness in her eyes. *Marsh?* And 
then she was gone, and Scully's mind focused on her responsibilities. 
Mulder needed her.

**********

Scully found her waiting to catch a ride to the airport with the 
technicians whose surveillance expertise was no longer needed. Marsh was 
leaning against the side of a nondescript tan government issue van, 
smoking a cigarette. That seemed to make as much sense as suddenly 
finding her in the middle of that insanity -- 

"I didn't realize you did this sort of thing," Scully said, stepping to 
Marsh's side, brushing her hand lightly down her arm. The muscles under 
her fingers felt like steel bands. *God, she's wound tight. What the 
hell is going on?*

Marsh dropped the cigarette, stubbed it out with her toe, her gaze 
averted. "I don't usually -- Skinner only calls me when there's 
potential for mass casualties, or an agent is in jeopardy." Her voice 
was flat, almost hollow. *It could have been you in there -- it would 
kill me --*

"That's a little more active than _medical consultant_," Scully replied, 
unable to hide the edge in her tone. "Why didn't you tell me?" She was 
stunned by how frightening the prospect of Marsh being anywhere near 
danger was to her. She and Mulder were so used to being threatened, 
injured, and generally in harm's way that she no longer gave it any 
thought. She looked after him, and he looked after her. The two of them 
against all comers. Suddenly, there was someone else, someone she very 
much wanted to protect. *Christ, you're practically in the line of fire. 
Don't you think I should know that?*

"I didn't think of it." Marsh swallowed, trying to dispel the lingering 
terror that annihilated all feeling. *I can't think about it. If I think 
about it, I can't work*

That hurt.  She had just spent the better part of a day watching Mulder 
on his knees with a lunatic's gun to his head, struggling to contain her 
fear, and now her lover decides to become cryptic and cold.
 
"Skinner shouldn't have sent you. You were a hostage yourself just a few 
weeks ago," Scully seethed. Then Scully's anger gave way to concern. 
Marsh was visibly trembling. *Doesn't anyone ever think about the 
consequences to the _people_ in this job?*

"I forced him to -- it's my job, too." Marsh's words came out harsher 
than she intended. This time had been the hardest yet - it was the first 
time in all the years since Karen died that someone she was close to was 
involved. She couldn't stop the flashbacks, only now Dana's face seemed 
to alternate with Karen's in her memories. She struggled not to shiver, 
looking anywhere but at Dana. If she did, she was afraid she might 
crumble. 

Scully felt Marsh withdraw. She was ambushed by the sudden pain. 
*Oh,fuck it* Scully tried unsuccessfully to hide her anger, but she was 
too stressed to succeed. Her voice was cold, as hard as her gaze. "Go 
home, Marsh. I've got to debrief with Mulder, and close this case out. 
I'll call you."

Marsh nodded, wanting to touch her, unable to move. She hadn't felt this 
way since -- she looked away, afraid she would cry. *God, Dana, I love 
you so much* She clenched her jaw until her teeth hurt. When she spoke, 
her voice was as hollow as her soul. "Sure."

Scully walked back in search of Mulder, wondering what the hell had just 
happened. First Mulder acted like he'd just seen a ghost, interrogating 
one of the victims like _he_ was the perpetrator, and then her lover 
behaves as if they barely knew one another. Fuck, maybe she didn't know 
either of them. Scully was starting to feel very alone.

**********

Scully eased herself into the seat beside Mulder, totally exhausted. *He 
must be ready to collapse* They had easily spent six hours with the 
Chicago bureau and local police wrapping up the details of the tragic 
demise of the delusional VinalRight employee. Mulder had been 
inordinately quiet the entire time.

"How you doing?" Scully asked as the plane taxied toward take-off. 

"Something's not right, Scully. I can feel it."

"Mulder," she said softly, "give yourself a break. You just went through 
a terrible ordeal. Of course it doesn't feel right."

He shook his head in irritation. "That's not what I mean. Something 
happened in there. I _saw_ something." 

*God, I don't need this now* She took a deep breath. "Mulder, it was 
dark, everyone was terrified. A man standing beside you, with a gun on 
you I might add, was shot to death. You could have seen almost 
anything."

He looked wounded. Why did he always have to convince her? His chin 
lifted in stubborn certainty. "It's not over, Scully. I _know_ it."

Scully sighed. "Try to stick to the facts with Skinner, okay?" Lately 
their boss seemed even less tolerant than usual of any breach in 
protocol, and they were always straddling the line of proper procedure 
at it was. 

"If I knew what the facts were," he grumbled, "I'd be happy to." He 
leaned his head wearily against the seat back. "Was that Marsh I saw you 
with back there?" he asked almost idly. He hadn't seen Scully's lover 
since the day he talked to Marsh in the hospital following her 
kidnapping. Still, hers was not a face, or a form, easily forgotten. 

"Yes," Scully said abruptly, still smarting from their encounter. She 
did not like finding out her lover was a bit more of an active agent 
than she had claimed, and she definitely did not appreciate discovering 
that fact in the middle of a dangerous engagement. Besides that, she was 
miserable about the way they had parted. She couldn't believe, didn't 
even want to think about, how forlorn she felt since she'd left Marsh 
that afternoon. *This is worse than missing her. I feel like part of me 
has been amputated*

"That must be tough for her," he murmured, watching the night pass by 
out the window. He tried unsuccessfully to bring into focus the strange 
form he _thought_ he'd seen. *Maybe I _did_ imagine that -- _thing_*

"What?" Scully asked, not certain she had heard him correctly. *Tough on 
_her_? What about _my_ peace of mind!*

He turned to her, really looking at her for the first time in hours. She 
looked terrible. The creases between her sculpted brows were fast 
becoming furrows, and the unhappiness in her blue eyes had darkened them 
to nearly black. They were swimming with pain. "What's going on, 
Scully?"

"Nothing," she answered reflexively. "What were you saying about Marsh?"

He tried to concentrate. "Today -- it must have been hard -- isn't that 
how Karen Summers died? In a hostage rescue attempt?"

*Oh, fuck* She stared at him, saw Marsh trembling as she leaned against 
the van. *Dana, you _asshole_!*

He continued, oblivious to the color flooding her cheeks. "I can't 
imagine that kind of encounter is ever easy for her, and then with you 
there -- I guess it's a good thing it was me, and not you inside."

*Double-fuck*

"I'm surprised Skinner sent her," Mulder added.

*I bet she didn't give him a choice*

"She seemed perfectly cool inside though," he commented. "Totally in 
control."

*Yeah, and we both know what that costs, don't we? Nice, Dana -- way to 
be sensitive to the person who means the most to you* She rubbed her 
forehead, sighed. "I didn't know she was doing this kind of work."

"She didn't tell you," Mulder said. It was not a question.

"No."

"Not surprising, really. She's got a bit of a hero complex, as well as a 
hell of a lot of survivor's guilt." He was thinking out loud, the way he 
did when he was profiling. He forgot he was talking about Scully's 
lover.

"Excuse me?" Scully snapped, instantly protective.

Mulder didn't appear to notice. "Oh, come on, Scully. Don't tell me that 
never occurred to you. She's an agent, a surgeon, -- chief -- no less, 
and she spends her time flying around to disaster sites saving people? 
What's she trying to prove?"

Scully barely kept her voice to a civil level. "Mulder," she seethed, 
"did it ever occur to you that she just might be a truly noble person, 
trying to do something worthwhile, something selfless?" *God, what's 
happened to the two of us, that all we can see is the worst?*

"No, Scully," he said softly. "What occurred to me is that she is 
working overtime to forget something that you have probably brought back 
with a vengeance. Now she has another lover who spends way too much time 
around people with guns. I'm not surprised she doesn't want to talk 
about it."

*Triple-fuck* She undid her seat belt. "I need to walk around." She 
didn't look at him as she made her way down the aisle. *I hate it when 
he's so right, and I never even saw it coming*

**********

It was 4 am when Scully let herself into Marsh's darkened apartment with 
the key she had carried for two months. She kicked off her heels, hoping 
to creep quietly across the expanse of hardwood floor to the loft stairs 
and the sleeping quarters above. She placed her briefcase down 
carefully, and took one step into the wide living room.

"I'm up." 

Scully turned at the familiar sound of Marsh's deep alto voice, and 
could just make out her shadowy form on the sofa at the far side of the 
room. Scully made her way to her, navigating the space by memory. For 
some reason, she knew not to turn on the light. 

"Have you slept?" Scully asked as she stopped in front of her lover. She 
was aching to hold her. *God, I've missed you*

"No. Did you just get in?" Marsh asked, changing the subject. She 
sounded weary beyond fatigue. *I was so afraid you wouldn't come*

"Yes. The debriefing was interminable." Scully leaned down, ran a hand 
through Marsh's thick hair, lingered to caress her cheek. "Is there some 
reason you smell like a barroom?"

Marsh had still not raised her head, but sat staring at Dana's chest, 
slowly rising and falling beneath the silk blouse. Comforting in its 
steady rhythm. "The plane trip back turned into a little impromptu 
celebration for the team. Happy ending and all that. Dead perp, no 
casualties. They broke out the booze."

Scully was worried. Marsh rarely drank, and she sounded drained, almost 
defeated.*This has got to stop* She reached for Marsh's hands, pulling 
her to her feet. "Come on -- I'm not sleeping next to you until we both 
shower off this day."

Marsh stopped her, holding her arms tightly. "Dana, I'm sorry about 
showing up the way I did. I don't know why I never mentioned it --"

Scully pressed her fingers to Marsh's lips. "Not now. Come with me." 

She pulled Marsh to the stairs and up the spiral staircase into the 
bathroom adjoining the bedroom. She turned the night light on, suffusing 
the room in a dim glow. She pulled her blouse off, quickly unzipped her 
skirt and let it fall to the floor. Undergarments were next, then she 
stepped naked across the room to Marsh and began to unbutton her shirt. 

"Dana," Marsh murmured, feeling as if she were awakening from a dream. 
Since she had left Chicago in the small bureau transport plane nine 
hours ago, her mind had been strangely blank. She drove herself home 
from the airfield, but she didn't recall parking the car or coming 
upstairs. She had been waiting, simply waiting, for the sound of 
footsteps on the stairs, a key in the lock, some disturbance in the air 
to tell her Dana had come home. She couldn't sleep without her there. "I 
thought you might go to your place tonight."

Scully hesitated for a second, then unzipped Marsh's chinos. *This is 
not just about me* For the first time she resented the other woman Marsh 
had loved, and the torment her death still caused. *Get a grip, Scully. 
Marsh is the one who's hurting. You can be jealous later* She grasped 
the pants, pushed them down, taking Marsh's briefs with them. "Step--"  
She reached behind them and turned on the water. "Why would I go there? 
You're here."

"I know you were angry--"

"Umm -- in." She followed Marsh into the spray, found the soap, began 
lathering Marsh's chest and belly. *Lord, you are beautiful* She gently 
guided her lover with a hand on her hip, working the foam up and down 
her sides, over her thighs. "I was angry -- you're right. I'll still 
always come home. Turn." Her voice was thick. Marsh's body under her 
hands was supple, strong -- slick from the soap, sensuously smooth. 
Scully stood behind Marsh, circling her well-muscled back down to her 
ass.

"I don't talk about it much --"

*You should--you will. If not to me, then _someone_* Scully slipped her 
fingers in the cleft between Marsh's tight buttocks, gently stroked 
lower to the warmth between her legs, stopping before she touched her 
soft inner lips. "We can talk tomorrow. Spread your legs."

Marsh sighed softly, bracing her arms on the far wall as Scully traveled 
down the inside of her thighs to her knees, then back up, moving further 
forward over the sensitive folds, nearly touching Marsh's hooded 
clitoris, drawing away at the last second. 

"Dana," Marsh whispered, a throbbing ache settling in her pelvis. She 
wasn't thinking about death and loss any longer. Her world was suddenly 
in focus, she felt very much alive, and Dana Scully was the reason. "Oh 
god, I need you so much."

Scully's legs were shaking. Her hands were trembling. She wanted her so 
much. She twisted the knobs, slid the door open. "Out." She grabbed a 
large bath sheet as Marsh grabbed her, throwing it around their 
shoulders as they pressed into each other's arms. Scully wrapped her 
fingers in the wet hair at the base of Marsh's neck, holding Marsh's 
head back as she brought her teeth down on the exposed flesh of Marsh's 
neck, biting softly as she moved up to her jaw, along the sharp edge, to 
her soft lips. She nibbled, harder than she meant, barely able to 
control herself. She had an overwhelming desire to drive every thought 
of any other time, any other person, from Marsh's consciousness. It was 
a possessiveness that frightened her, but she had gone too far to stop.

"Dana," Marsh gasped, clinging to the smaller woman for support. "I want 
you inside of me -- I need you deep-- oh, god--"

Scully growled, lowering her head to Marsh's breast, taking her nipple 
hard in her teeth. *Jesus, Dana, be careful. Don't hurt her!* Dimly she 
heard Marsh whimpering as she pushed her hand between Marsh's legs, 
immediately surrounded by her wetness, her heat. Two fingers, then three 
-- Marsh was open, yielding -- beginning to sag as Scully reached beyond 
her body, into her soul. Scully wrapped an arm around her waist, holding 
her up as she thrust -- faster, harder than she intended -- her mind 
empty of any thought other than her desire to own this woman. She backed 
Marsh up against the counter, never stopping her motion. She was 
groaning, blind with lust, her own clit pulsating --threatening to go 
off just from feeling Marsh clench around her fingers.

Marsh clutched the edges of the vanity, her body spinning out of control 
-- she fought for breath, wave upon wave of pleasure pounding through 
her with each driving stroke. "Oh Dana!" she cried as Scully brought her 
thumb down hard on Marsh's exposed clit, triggering an instant 
explosion. "Oh my god -- I'm coming!--"

"Oh yess-" Scully moaned, raising her head to watch Marsh come. "I love 
you," she gasped, her arm a blur - taking her hard and deep. "I love 
you-" Before the powerful contractions stopped, Scully dropped to her 
knees, replacing her hand with her mouth. She captured Marsh's clitoris 
with her lips, biting the base -- gently now, pulling her into her 
mouth.

Marsh drove her hands into Scully's hair, pulling Scully's face tightly 
to her. "Oh, yes, baby -" she cried, head thrown back, eyes closed in 
ecstasy. "Suck me, lick me - oh, god - yess"

Scully grasped Marsh's firm ass with one hand, the other flying between 
her own thighs, spreading her drenched, swollen lips, rubbing herself 
wildly. She worked Marsh's jerking clit with her lips and tongue as she 
slid two fingers into herself, bringing her palm down roughly on her own 
clit. She tried to contain her imminent orgasm, waiting for Marsh to 
blossom again, but she was already too far gone. The first touch 
triggered her climax, and she could do nothing but groan and try to stay 
on her lover's convulsing body. Marsh was coming again, her wails 
joining with Scully's, as they surrendered to the force of their 
passion.

"I'm going to fall," Marsh murmured when she could draw a breath.

"I've got you," Scully panted, her face pressed to Marsh's thigh, her 
arms wrapped tightly around her hips. She rose unsteadily, pressing 
close to her lover along every plane of her body. "I love you so much, 
Marsh," she whispered.

"I'm yours," Marsh whispered, leaning her forehead against Scully's. 
"Completely."

"Mmm- then come to bed. I don't think I'm done with you yet."

***

14 hours later

Marsh entered the dark bar, standing at the top of three steps that led 
down into the long narrow room, waiting for her eyes to adjust in the 
dim, smoky haze. She'd never been there before, but it wasn't far from 
the hospital, and she wasn't there for the ambience. She was still 
unsettled from the trip to Chicago, the memories that the rescue had 
triggered, and her lingering fear for Dana's safety. Their frenzied 
lovemaking had gone a long way toward dispelling her unease, but she 
wouldn't feel truly settled until she saw Dana again. Unfortunately, 
they had fallen into bed only to have Marsh's wake up call come an hour 
later, and now Dana was working late. Marsh stepped down, then stopped. 
The hunched figure at the end of the bar looked very familiar. She 
threaded her way through the haphazardly scattered tables and chairs to 
stand beside him.

"What are you doing in this dive, Mulder?" she asked. He looked up, his 
gaze slightly unfocused. He was more dishevelled than she'd ever seen 
him -- he needed a shave and a fresh suit.

"Waiting for my partner to finish an autopsy," he replied, only slightly 
surprised to find Scully's lover beside him. She looked tired, and there 
was something deeply unsettled in her dark eyes. He looked away, wishing 
sometimes he saw less of what was inside people -- especially these last 
few days.

"Funny -- so am I. Buy you a drink?" Marsh asked as she slid onto the 
cracked red vinyl stool beside him. 

"Tequila." Mulder replied.

Marsh signaled for two and they sat in silence, heads bowed, 
contemplating the wet rings slowly drying on the scarred surface of the 
bar.

"I was surprised to see you in Oak Brook yesterday," Mulder commented at 
length.

"So was Dana," Marsh muttered, nodding her assent as Mulder signaled for 
another round.

"Hhm -- she mad?" He didn't envy her. Scully angry was not a thing to 
take lightly. He tried to remember exactly what he and Scully had 
discussed on the plane back, but he kept being distracted by visions of 
-- something. 

Marsh laughed without humor. "You could say that."

"Why didn't you tell her about those little assignments?" he asked, 
licking the salt off the shot glass before tossing back the fiery 
liquid. "She'd want to know you were running around playing with people 
who carry guns."

Marsh shrugged, downed her shot. She considered not answering -- after 
all, she didn't know this guy -- except to know her lover would risk her 
life for him. She glanced at him. He looked back at her, his eyes warm, 
welcoming. "I don't like to talk about it," she said truthfully. She 
lifted her glass to the bartender, who refilled their drinks.

"How come?"

"Bad memories."

"Umm." He knew a little about that. He laughed harshly, realizing that 
bad memories motivated almost everything he did, everything he felt.  He 
had spent his life making up for that paralysing moment when he let his 
sister slip away -- no, be _taken_ away. His career choices, the 
direction his professional life had taken, the abysmal state of his 
non-existent personal life -- all hinged on that one pivotal moment when 
he could have, _should_ have, rushed forward -- pulled her back, let 
them take him. Maybe he and Scully's lover had more in common than he 
thought. Besides Scully of course. They did have her in common.

"You can't change it," he muttered, almost to himself.

"No," Marsh agreed grimly, "I can't." She was beginning to feel the 
tequila, a slight not so unpleasant light-headedness. She hadn't slept 
the night before, and she rarely drank. She wasn't exercising her usual 
control, talking about things she never even acknowledged to herself. "I 
can't even stop seeing it. And every time I go out on one of these 
calls, I see her again."

"Karen Summers?"

Marsh gave him a hard look as the bartender silently replenished their 
drinks. "Been doing a little digging, Mulder?" she asked harshly.

"It's a matter of record."

Marsh snorted. "Sure -- in the archives of Rumor and Innuendo, maybe. 
What you're getting at isn't written down anywhere."

"I'm good at deductions," he added, wondering not for the first time why 
he never anticipated someone like Marsh in Scully's life. He knew she 
rarely dated, and never seemed particularly anxious to impress any of 
the men who were constantly sniffing around her. But he had never 
thought about a woman. *Maybe because you always secretly hoped she was 
thinking about you?* He flipped back the shot. *Jeez, Mulder, you're 
earning your Y-chromosomes tonight. Next you'll be challenging Black to 
arm wrestle* 

"Skinner knows, though, doesn't he?" Mulder said quietly.

"He'd never say," Marsh said flatly.

"He was your training instructor -- he probably should have -- and he is 
a by-the-books guy."

"Karen was his ex-partner, his wife's best friend, and -- I always 
thought he was a little in love with Karen himself," Marsh admitted. 
"She had that effect on people."

*Must be common -- falling for your partner* Mulder stared at his 
reflection in the spotty mirror behind the bar. "Do you still love her?"

Marsh flinched, met his eyes in the glass. "Yes."

"What about Scully?" he demanded angrily.

"Have you loved more than one woman in your life, Mulder?"

He hesitated. *Three* "Yes."

"The same way?"

He shook his head, thinking about Phoebe, Diana -- thinking about -- 
*Fuck* "No." He didn't want to go down that road. "Still -- it's got to 
be hard, being in the kind of situations where she was killed. Like 
yesterday."

Marsh shrugged. "It's hell."

"Why don't you quit?" Mulder asked, beckoning for refills. "I know how 
tough it is to be constantly reminded of something like that."

"Why don't you?" Marsh bristled.

He contemplated the amber liquid in the small neat glass. "Wouldn't know 
what to do with myself."

"Get a life?" Marsh suggested not unkindly.

"You have a life -- you have Scully now," he said, just a trace of heat 
in his voice.

Marsh heard it. "You're not happy about us, are you? Still think I'm 
some kind of spy?"

Mulder jerked in surprise. *Scully _told_ her that? Jesus*

Marsh continued unperturbed. "I just got that feeling from your 
questions after I was missing. Dana never says anything about you that 
isn't glowing."

He heard the heat in _her_ voice. "Jealous?" *Oh, fuck, Mulder -- that 
was juvenile. What are you trying to prove?"

Marsh grimaced, studied her hands loosely holding the shot glass. "Yes, 
I think so. She loves you, she puts her life in danger for you -- there 
are times when you are the only one keeping her alive." She downed the 
shot. "I don't like having to depend on you for that."

"You don't trust me either," he commented. She surprised him with her 
honesty. Then again, he shouldn't be surprised. Scully loved her; she 
must be extraordinary.

"From what I can gather, your track record is a little spotty," she said 
matter-of-factly. She was thinking about the scar on Dana's neck, the 
puncture wounds on her abdomen from the extraction probes -- the cancer.

"Touche," he grunted. He wondered how much she _really_ knew of what 
Scully had suffered. What they still faced. *You're going to have to 
tell her soon, Scully. She deserves to know all of it* 

She looked him in the eye, after a few seconds of attempting to focus. 
"I love her, Mulder. If I could find words to tell you how much, you'd 
understand why the thought of losing her terrifies me."

He didn't need to hear the words; it was written plainly in the agony in 
her dark eyes. "I love her, too," he whispered, "and I'd give my life to 
see that nothing harms her."

"Thank you," she managed.

He grinned, a lopsided, boyish, altogether charming grin. "I'm glad 
you're going home with her, and not me."

"Huh?" Marsh questioned somewhat sluggishly. She really wasn't thinking 
too quickly.

"Cause she's coming this way, and the air around her seems to be 
crackling."

Scully had seen them from the door, amazed for a moment how alike they 
were physically. Both tall, thin, androgenously handsome, with unruly 
dark hair and wounded eyes so deep you could drown in them. They could 
have been siblings. They were leaning shoulder to shoulder, their heads 
bent close together, deep in conversation. That wasn't what bothered 
her, even though for a second she was a little jealous. She _wanted_ 
them to get along, but for the first time she realized that until now, 
she had had both of them entirely to herself. That thought had quickly 
fled in the face of the observation that both of them looked like they 
were sliding off their stools, and there were at least ten empty shot 
glasses lined up in front of them. *Fuck. They're _drunk_!* At any other 
time it might not have bothered her, but she had been worried about 
Marsh all day, afraid that she was about to develop full-blown 
post-traumatic stress syndrome. And to top it all off, Skinner had 
called her in to question her about _Mulder's_ erratic behavior. She 
couldn't handle both of them falling apart at once. She needed them both 
too much.

They turned in unison at her approach, matching shit-eating grins on 
their equally fuzzy-eyed faces.

"Scully!"

"Hi love--"

Scully stared from one to the other. "Goddamn it, Mulder! Did you get 
her drunk?" 

"Yep, and I almost had her talked into going home with me. Bad timing, 
Scully." He was a little too drunk to notice she wasn't smiling.

"Hey!" Marsh protested, only slurring slightly. "_I_ got him drunk, and 
I wouldn't go home with him if he was the last human on the planet." She 
grinned and punched him lightly on the arm. "Sorry, Mulder -- you're 
just not my type."

*Wonderful. They're bonding. My lover has now joined my partner on the 
functional level of college frat boys* Scully turned on her heel. "Stay 
there," she snapped. "I'm calling a cab. Mulder, you're coming home with 
us. I'm not squiring you all over town. I'm too damn tired from doing 
the unnecessary autopsy you wanted, by the way."

Mulder and Marsh stared at one another.

"Oh oh," they said simultaneously, then threw their arms around each 
other's shoulders in comradely solidarity, determined to face their 
fates together.

**********

7am

Scully lay awake, listening to Marsh move around in the bathroom, trying 
to tell if Mulder was up. They had left him sprawled out on the couch 
downstairs. She wondered if he found it strange to see Scully climb the 
stairs to Marsh's bedroom with her arm around her unsteady lover's 
waist. He'd never seen her with a lover before. She glanced over to see 
Marsh leaning against the bathroom door, clad only in faded cotton scrub 
pants, looking considerably better than she had the night before. Scully 
couldn't stop the rush of desire just seeing her produced. *Oh god, I'm 
lost*

"What are you thinking about?" Marsh asked, crossing to sit on the side 
of the bed.

"You, me, and Mulder," Scully replied, taking Marsh's hand.

"Hhmm --" Marsh nodded, trailing her fingers lightly over Dana's 
abdomen. "Problems?"

"No. I just realized how much I wanted you two to like each other. I 
couldn't tell last night if you were becoming friends or not." Her 
nipples tightened as Marsh brushed lightly over her breasts.

Marsh circled Scully's navel with a finger tip, watching the muscles 
flicker and withdraw slightly from her touch. "Rivals I think."

Scully stilled the hand that was starting to distract her with thoughts 
that were decidedly not about Mulder. "Are you jealous of him?" 

Marsh sighed. "He's your best friend, your partner, and he loves you." 
She looked away, then met Scully's gaze. "And it'd be a lot easier for 
you all the way around if he were your lover."

Scully sat up in bed, unmindful of her nakedness. "I am going to pretend 
I didn't hear that -- because if I _did_ hear that, I would think that 
you doubted how much I love you. And if I thought _that_, at _this_ 
point, I would have to shoot you."

Marsh stared at her, saw the mixture of fire and tenderness in her gaze, 
and laughed. "I'm sorry. I think it's the hangover. The three aspirin 
did not seem to help."

Scully returned her lover's hand to her belly, pushing it down to the 
red curls at the junction of her thighs. "We're going to have to talk 
about that, but I think I liked the conversation you were starting a 
minute ago better."

"Jesus, Dana -- Mulder's downstairs!" Marsh protested feebly. Her 
fingers moved lower of their own volition, discovering Scully's clit 
moist and hard, ready for her. She squeezed it softly, ran her finger up 
and down the shaft. Her heart raced at Dana's swift intake of breath, 
and the way she jerked slightly at the first light touch over the 
distended tip.

"If he's awake, the TV will be on," Scully gasped, her eyes turning a 
deep violet as she raised her hips into Marsh's hand. "I'll be quiet."

Marsh bent to capture one pink nipple in her teeth, circling Dana's clit 
with the pads of two fingers. "You're never quiet," she murmured, 
closing her lips around the erect nub, sliding her fingers further into 
Dana's wetness. 

Scully grasped Marsh's head, tangling her fingers in the thick black 
hair, tugging Marsh's face toward her own. "Then kiss me and keep me 
quiet," she managed, barely able to focus now. Marsh's touch was sending 
currents of pleasure down her thighs. Her belly contracted as the 
tingling began in her spine.

Marsh eased up on the bed, stretching along the smaller woman's length, 
parting Dana's lips above with her tongue as she entered her below. 
Scully groaned and arched against the lean, firm frame, one hand 
fumbling with the ties on Marsh's scrub pants.

"Un uh," Marsh managed to whisper, pulling her hips away from Scully's 
enticing fingers. "I _can't_ be quiet. Just let me touch you -- let me 
make you come."

"Oh, yes, please," Scully breathed, finding Marsh's lips again, stroking 
them softly with her tongue, probing the warm inner sanctuary. Marsh was 
already bringing her close with the steady rhythm of her deep, slow 
thrusts. She didn't want to come, not yet -- and she forced herself to 
focus on the texture of Marsh's skin, the liquid heat of her mouth, the 
soft murmur of her sighs. Anything but the escalating pressure deep 
inside.

Marsh curled all four fingers together, slowly pressing them inside her 
love, bringing her thumb under the quivering clit, working it in 
circles, first fast, then tantalizingly moving away. Dana groaned, a 
deep gasping plea, and shuddered in Marsh's arms. It took all of Marsh's 
will power to maintain the controlled pace, when every instinct urged 
her to take her fast, and hard. The crotch of Marsh's cotton scrubs was 
dark with her own cum, and she knew if she brushed her pulsing clit 
against Dana's thigh, she would come instantly. Fiercely, she held 
herself back, determined to pleasure Dana first. She moved her thumb 
higher, pushing back the slick sheath, exposing all of the engorged 
clitoris to her caresses.

Dana pulled her mouth away from Marsh's kiss, struggling not to cry out. 
"I'm -- so -- close -- now," she whispered in Marsh's ear. There was a 
storm raging in her pelvis, centered in the muscles clamped around 
Marsh's hand, lightning flickering from the nerves coiled to explode in 
her clit. She dug her fingers into Marsh's back, raised her hips as the 
pressure approached the unbearable. "Make me come," she choked against 
her lover's sweat-slick skin. "Oh -- god -- make me co--" Fire flashed 
through her, stealing her breath.

Marsh closed her eyes as Dana's teeth sank into her shoulder, thrusting 
into her in time to the rapid internal contractions, drawing out each 
spasm with a flick of her thumb over the still swelling clit. *I love 
you, I lo -- oh! oh jesus--*

Scully had reached for Marsh without conscious thought, driving her 
fingers between Marsh's legs, squeezing her clitoris through the damp 
cloth. As Scully peaked yet again she thrilled to Marsh's strangled cry. 
Marsh buried her face in Dana's neck, hips jerking wildly as she came. 
For an eternity they pressed close together, limbs entwined, contracting 
muscles fused, hearts pounding in unison. 

When she could manage to speak, Scully kissed the bruise on Marsh's 
shoulder where her teeth had left marks. "Told you I could be quiet."

**********
 
1 pm The same day
Memorial Hospital, Washington DC

Marsh flicked off her beeper and reached for the wall phone, punching in 
the numbers on the digital display. "Black," she announced as the call 
was answered.

"Marsh, it's me."

Marsh straightened, hearing the strain in her lover's voice from just 
those few words. "What is it?" She heard Dana take a breath. "Dana?"

"It's Mulder," Scully said when she had control of herself. She rattled 
off the details of the disastrous encounter between Mulder and several 
VinalRight employees in Skinner's office impassively enough. But the 
next part came hard. "He pulled his gun in Skinner's office, making wild 
accusations about zombies and god knows what else. He's been committed, 
Marsh. Skinner's orders."

Marsh whistled faintly. "You mean as in _psych ward_ committed?"

"Yes."

"Shit."

"Can you check on him? Find out what's going on? I'll be there as soon 
as I can. Mulder also dumped another corpse on me, and I think I better 
look at it. It's one of the victims from the Oak Brook shooting."

"Sure. Anything -- but I don't know how much help I'll be. I'm a 
surgeon, not a shrink."

Scully laughed despite her concern. "Believe me, my love, no one would 
ever mistake you for anything else. Just see if he's all right. I'll 
call you."

"I love you," Marsh replied. *Fuck. I hate going to the psych ward. It 
gives me the creeps* Resolutely, she left the comfortable terrain of  
traumatized bodies for the shadowy corridors of the mind.

***********

*Aw, fuck* They had him tied down -- four point restraints -- and it was 
not pleasant to see. He looked like he'd been struggling with the soft 
cotton tethers - his wrists were red, but at least they didn't look 
abraded yet. She slipped a finger under the wide bands, checking to be 
sure they weren't too tight. He opened his eyes, regarded her seriously.

"Hey, Mulder," she said softly.

"Where's Scully?" he croaked.

Marsh pulled a chair close to the bed, held a paper cup with a straw for 
him to drink. "She'll be here soon. How are you?"

"Crazy."

"Are you?"

He closed his eyes, sighed helplessly. "I don't know -- I don't think 
so. No more than usual." He jerked the ties on his wrists and ankles 
ineffectively. "This kind of tends to make me wonder."

Marsh winced, the memory still vivid. "I woke up in a place like this 
the morning after Karen died -- I know the feeling." She grinned 
humorlessly. "Don't lose sight of the truth because of the 
circumstances."

"That seems to be my life's mission," he said wearily, staring at the 
ceiling in defeat.

"Wanna tell me?"

He turned his head, studied her face. She had beautiful eyes -- intense, 
sure, radiating strength. He was tempted. He shook his head. "I'm not 
even sure Scully's gonna believe this one." He tried to smile. "I don't 
suppose you can get me out of here?"

Marsh grimaced. "Jesus, Mulder -- I don't think so. I'm not exactly on 
friendly terms with the folks over here. But I'll find out who's in 
charge, see what I can do, okay?"

A look of hopelessness passed over his face. "Yeah.'

Marsh edged closer to the bed, laid her hand on his arm above the 
restraints. "Listen, Mulder -- Dana will get to the bottom of this. 
Whatever's going on, she'll figure it out. Just hold on."

He felt her words penetrate the curtain of fear that surrounded him. 
Scully. Scully was on her way. "Don't let anything happen to her," he 
said quietly.

Marsh smiled. "I won't if you won't."

He grinned, a fair facsimile of his usual disarming smile. "Deal."

**********

Scully collapsed into the molded orange plastic seat bolted to the one 
next to it, which happened to be occupied by her lover. She rubbed her 
temples, and tried to dispel the heartbreaking image of Mulder strapped 
down in that cold, stark room. God, she had never felt so helpless. She 
jumped slightly when Marsh took her hand.

"I'm sorry, darling," Scully murmured. "I didn't mean to ignore you." 
She was well aware of the fact that she and Marsh had never talked about 
what had happened to Marsh out in the field the day before, or why Marsh 
had been having nightmares for weeks, or why she woke up drenched in 
sweat too many nights. She had meant to, when they walked downstairs to 
find Mulder already gone that morning. But then Marsh had been called in 
for a multivehicle pile up on the beltway, and Scully got busy with a 
call from the morgue about a new body Mulder was sending from Oak Brook, 
and now this. *You should have made time, Dana. She's your lover, for 
god's sake!*

Marsh just shook her head. "What did he say?"

Scully deliberated for a second. She was used to protecting him, and he 
was so vulnerable now. God, what was she going to do? "He's not making 
any sense. Maybe it's the stress of being held hostage." She closed her 
eyes, afraid to think about what was really happening. *He's babbling 
about monsters for god's sake! Oh, Mulder!*

Marsh was very aware that Dana had avoided answering her question. She 
knew Mulder and Dana had a special relationship, one as powerful in many 
ways as hers and Dana's. She pushed that thought away. There was no time 
for jealousy now. If Mulder were in any way correct in his fears, Dana 
could be in danger. "He didn't seem delusional when I talked to him," 
she pointed out reasonably.

"He didn't tell you about zombies, either, did he?" Scully snapped. 
Christ, he was _her_ partner wasn't he? She ought to know what was 
really going on. She knew him better than anyone. They'd seen things no 
one else could ever understand. Things she couldn't even _begin_ to tell 
anyone. Not even her lover. But this!

"He's talked about monsters before, hasn't he?" Marsh continued calmly. 

Scully laughed hollowly. "Enough that no one has any trouble believing 
he's finally gone round the bend."

"Even you?"

Scully stared at her. "I don't know," she finally whispered. "I want to 
believe him, because I can't bear to think he's insane. I can't bear the 
thought of losing him -- not like this."

Scully's torment was palpable, and it pierced Marsh to the core. It 
frightened her, this love her lover had for this man, but she loved Dana 
so much all she wanted was to ease her pain. "Has he ever been right -- 
about the monsters?" Marsh asked quietly. 

Pause. "More than a few times."

"Well, then -- maybe--?"

Scully pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, searching for inner 
clarity. "It's so preposterous. But I told him I'd check the body 
again." Maybe Marsh was right. It wouldn't hurt to check a little more. 
It wasn't as if she could do anything here. She _hated_ being so 
powerless. She hated her fear. "I'll take another look."
 
"Want company?"

Scully laughed slightly; leaned over and kissed her quickly. "This 
body's long dead, Dr. Black. Not as appealing as the ones you're used 
to. I'll call you if I find anything." She stood, stretched wearily. 
"Would you stay here for a bit? Just in case he needs anything?" Maybe 
she shouldn't ask her, but there was no one she trusted more.

"Sure."

**********

Marsh awoke to the sound of gunfire. For an instant she thought it was 
just the old familiar dream, but then she heard shouts and people 
running. She jumped to her feet, suddenly terrified. *Oh god! That's 
Mulder's room!*

By the time she got there it was over. Scully stood dazed in front of a 
broken window, her gun smoking, staring down into an empty courtyard. 
The crisis may have passed, but the nightmare was not over for any of 
them. 

Lying in bed later that night, Dana in her arms, Marsh asked, "Will you 
tell me what happened?" *Will you trust me?* Her heart sank as the 
silence stretched around them. *Will you ever let me be part of your 
life with him?*

"I saw something," Scully began hesitantly. *How can you possibly 
understand? You don't know the things I've seen -- the things that have 
been done to me. How can I bring those things into our life?* She took a 
deep breath. "Do you believe in monsters?"

Unconsciously, Marsh's fingers strayed to the scar on the back of her 
lover's neck. Like a slide show, images flickered through her mind -- 
the metallic implant next to Dana's spine, Karen -- bleeding to death in 
her arms, countless patients dying of gunshot wounds, stab wounds, drug 
overdoses -- evil manifest in innumerable forms. "Yes, I believe in 
monsters."

"Tonight I saw one," Scully confessed quietly.

Marsh pulled her closer, kissed her hair, then her lids, then her mouth. 
"There are no monsters here," she whispered.

"No," Scully murmured, daring to feel safe. "There are no monsters 
here."

End Genesis V