Dana Scully settled back against the couch. She was
tired and, quite frankly, cranky. She'd just performed two autopsies and had been unable to ascertain a cause of death in either one. They were so gruesome that they'd left her unable to even contemplate dinner, which had led to a headache since she hadn't eaten since breakfast. But the real reason she was in such a bad mood was that her husband was off chasing some other lead pertaining to the case and had told her not to wait up for him.

They'd been away from each other all day and although
they'd spoken to each other half a dozen times on
their cell phones, it just wasn't the same. She wanted him here with her. She wanted to be able to bounce her findings and hypothoses off of him and have him do the same back to her. It would also be nice, she thought as she she stretched her  knotted muscles, if she could talk him into giving her a back rub. And as long as he was doing that, he might as well. . .

Oh, hell, why was she trying to kid herself? The
reason she wanted her husband home didn't have
anything to do with their mutual profession. She just
wanted him to hold her. Okay, okay, she wanted him to
do more than just hold her, wonderful though that was. She wanted him to make love to her.

Scully reached for her cell phone to speed dial his
number, then reluctantly put it back down. What was
she going to say, "Mulder, it's me. You have to come
home now because I'm horny,"? On more than one
occasion, she'd jokingly referred to him as a sex
maniac, but in all honesty she thought she was
probably worse about it than he was. When they were at work, he seemed to be able to detach himself from
their personal life and treat her as just another
colleague. She was the one who would sometimes miss a
vital piece of information he was trying to share with her because she'd been distracted by his hands or mouth remembering how they had touched and tasted the evening before.

Dana got up to pour herself a glass of wine, then
settled back against the couch again. She picked up
the remote control to the TV/VCR and flicked it on.

Hey, what's this? she wondered. Some sort of movie was coming on, but it wasn't one she was familiar with. Maybe Mulder had put it in while he was wandering around the apartment last night. Generally speaking, he slept better now than he had in the days before their marriage, but this particular case was giving them no end of grief and his old insomnia had returned last night. She'd half expected him to use his cell phone to call their bedroom extension from the living room, and wake her up to chat on the phone just like he'd done in their pre-marital nights. Eventually, she'd been able to persuade him to come back to bed and found a way to get him relaxed enough so that he slept for a few hours.

The movie seemed to be a mystery of sorts, but one
with decidedly erotic overtones, she realized, as she
continued to watch. It concerned a woman who was torn
between two lovers. One of the men looked, to Dana, a
lot like her husband, but then she was always doing
that. Last week, it had been Alec Baldwin who reminded her of Fox. The week before, it had been a young Pierce Brosnan in a rerun of "Remington Steele".

This guy, though, not only looked like her husband,
but pretty much acted like him, as well. He was
incredibly intense, focusing on his lover at home, but bringing that same level of commitment to the job when he was at work. Good Lord, Scully thought,
sitting up, as an especially sensual scene was acted
out, is he doing to her in the bathtub what it looks
like he's doing?

The woman, who Dana had pretty much pegged as a whiny
brat, got jealous of her lover's job and took another
lover, which Dana found hard to believe. How could any woman who had a lover who looked like Mulder AND did things like that to her in the bathtub even look at another man?

The final credits of the movie were running, and
Scully was still trying to figure out what in the HELL had had been the attraction of lover number two, when she heard a key in the lock.

"Hey, babe. How come you're still awake?"

Scully turned to smiled up at her husband. He was
wearing the discouraged, hangdog look he always had
when they had reached an impasse in one of their
cases. "I was watching a movie."

"Anything made in our lifetimes?" he asked. It was a
teasing reference to her fondness for movies of the
1930s and 40s.

"Whatever you put in the VCR last night. I never did
figure out what the name of it was."

"You watched that?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yeah. Why?"

"You usually hate movies like that."

"Movies like what? It was just a mystery, with a moron woman in the center of it."

"No it wasn't," he said with a smile, coming to sit
beside her on the couch.

"What was it, then?"

"One of those movies that aren't mine."

"Mulder, it was definitely an R-rated movie and
something that wouldn't be suitable for children, but
it wasn't any worse than that."

"Did you see the bathtub scene?"

"Yes." She'd actually rewound the tape a few minutes
so she could watch the scene a second time.

"Come on, Scully, do you really think they'd give a
scene like that a rating that would allow 12-year-olds to watch it as long as they're accompanied by an adult?"

"Well, it wasn't that bad," she replied, her face
turing red.

"That's what I keep trying to tell you," he answered.
"Did you like it?"

Scully was seized by a sudden desire to change the
subject of the conversation. Maybe she could ask him
what leads he had discovered. But that would be
wimping out and she never, ever did that.

"It was okay."

"What parts did you like and what parts didn't you?"

"I liked the parts where she was with the first guy,
the one who looked like you."

"Another movie star you think looks like me?'

"You know which one I mean. The guy she was living
with."

"Yeah, the one in the bathroom scene. Okay, what
didn't you like?"

"Well, all that stuff with the other guy. It just
seemed pointless to me. What woman in her right mind
would cheat on a guy like she had? He was handsome,
smart, successful, sexy and absolutely devoted to
her."

"I guess she wanted a challenge."

"The other guy wasn't even good-looking! It would be
like me cheating on you with Frohike!"

Mulder chuckled at that. Standing to shed his coat,
gun and cell phone, he said, "If you  - or for that
matter, any woman - ever seriously came on to Frohike, he'd probably faint! The man's all talk."

"Well, I wouldn't anyway. That's the point I'm trying
to make. I can't remember the last time I even looked
at another man!"

"How about that sheriff down in Texas a year or two
ago?"

"According to you, he was a vampire, not a man, so
that doesn't count."

Mulder chuckled again and decide not to try to argue
his way out of that one. Instead, he sat down and
kissed her. Long, slow and deep. Just the way she
liked it.

"Fox, can I, um, ask you something?"

"Of course. Is it about the movie?"

"Sort of."

"What, sweetheart?"

"You know that bathtub scene?"

"Yeah?"

"Could we, er, do that?"

For a moment, Mulder was too shocked to answer. It
wasn't like Dana wasn't passionate. She was always
eager, always responsive, always willing. But she was
rarely the one to initiate their lovemaking. And
suddenly here she was, not merely asking him to take
her to bed, but suggesting that they reenact a scene
from an adult video.

Luckily, Fox Mulder had a keen intelligence over a
decade of thinking fast in unusual situations. The
silence lasted only a heartbeat before he stood up and held out his hand to her. "Sure. Come on."

"Um, I didn't necessarily mean right now," Dana said
as he led her into the bathroom.

"Why not now?" he asked as he turned on the water.
"We've been away from each other all day and have to
be in Skinner's office at 9 a.m. tomorrow to explain
just what the hell it is we're working on, anyway.
Tonight we deserve a break."

Scully watched as Mulder adjusted the temperature and
added bubbles. Was she really going to get in there,
naked, while he remained fully clothed and let him...

A glance at her husband's face removed all her doubts. He didn't look discouraged anymore. He looked
delighted. And about ten years younger than he had
when he walked in the door a few minutes earlier.

Scully began taking off her clothes in a hurry. She
knew he liked to watch, liked her to go slowly, but
felt if she didn't get in the tub quickly, she wasn't
going to be able to go through with this.

Stepping into the warm, scented bubbles felt
wonderful! Scully leaned her head back and let the
water swirl around her aching muscles. She closed her
eyes and let out a small sigh of satisfaction. For a
moment, she almost forgot that Mulder was in the room
with her.

He reminded her of his presence by touching her in two places simultaneously. One hand began to trace
patterns on her inner thigh, while the other brushed
her hair away from her neck so that he could press his lips there.

"Mmm," it was the most coherent thing she could come
up with.

"Like that?" he asked. He was using the low, growly
voice that turned Dana on almost as much as the way he was touching her. She'd worked with him for years
before their marriage and never once had she heard him use that tone. Now, she heard it almost nightly.
Sometimes at other times of the day, too.

"Mmmhmm," Dana was beginning to think she was beyond
the limits of speech. That is, until he suddenly
stopped touching her. "Where are you going?" she
asked, opening her eyes.

"I'm just cutting off the water, sweetheart," he
replied in that same low tone. He also took a moment
to quickly divest himself of his watch, wallet and
badge, as well as kicking off his shoes. He didn't
know exactly how closely they were going to follow the script of the movie, but if he ended up getting pulled into the tub with her, he didn't want to have to explain to their boss how his F.B.I. credentials had gotten waterlogged!

Bending down by the side of the tub again, he gazed
deeply into her eyes and kissed her. At the same time, he began moving his hand up her thigh again. He kept up the sequence for a long time, each kiss lasting longer, each movement of his hand bringing him closer to her core.

"I love you," he growled, slipping a finger into her.
He loved watching her like this. She was so unguarded, so open. So his.

"I love," she paused to moan as he slipped a second
finger into her, "you, too."

"Shh, don't talk. Just enjoy it. Concentrate on what
I'm doing to you. On the feel of the water on your
skin and my fingers inside you."

She closed her eyes and moaned again. This was too
good, the pleasure was too intense. It felt
unbelievably decadent just to lie there and let him do this to her, without making any move to reciprocate.

She was shimmering on the brink of climax, when he
whispered, "Open your eyes, sweetheart."

She obeyed his soft-voiced command and gazed deeply
into his eyes. "Come for me, Scully!" he growled, the
intensity of his voice making it more of an order than a request.

Whether it was the sound of his voice, or the
unexpected use of her last name in this context, or
the look in his eyes or the feel of his fingers
flexing inside her, she didn't know. But she came.
More powerfully than she could ever remember doing
before, splashing and thrashing and screaming his name so loudly that he thrust his tongue into her mouth and sealed her lips with his in order to keep her from making so much noise that the neighbors decided to call the cops or something!

When Scully finally came back to earth, she realized
that her husband's clothes were soaked and that he was grinning from ear to ear. His smile was so many
different things. Loving. Smug. Sexy.

"Wow!" she whispered.

"Wow!" he agreed.

As he leaned over to kiss her on the lips again, she
reached up and pulled him into the tub. It wouldn't
have been easy, normally, but he was already off
balance.

"Your turn," she purred, pulling the soaked shirt off
his shoulders and tossing it onto the floor. Getting
his waterlogged slacks off was somewhat more
difficult, but they managed. She guided him into her
and he began moving in long smooth, strokes. He was on top, but with the water to cushion them he didn't
worry about being too heavy for her tiny body, the way he often did in that position. She was running her hands up and down his arms and through his hair,
cooing endearments and admiration. Telling him -
explicitly, the way he liked - how much she enjoyed
what he'd done to her and what he was doing now. When
she climaxed, she pulled his mouth to hers for the
same reason he'd kissed her earlier.

When Mulder was finally capable of coherent thought
again, he realized that the water was getting cold and that all the bubbles had burst or been splashed out. "Come on," he murmured, "let's get out of here and get dried off." He stood up and stepped out of the tub, then reached down to lift her out. She was practically asleep. He'd always heard that it was men who got sleepy after sex, but not in their marriage. Oh, he was relaxed enough, that was damn sure. But, as usual, Dana was the one who was barely conscious after lovemaking. Hitching one towel around his waist, he gently dried her off and led her to bed.

"You okay, sweetheart? You're practically stumbling."

"Just kind of woozy, I guess."

"Why?"

"I haven't eaten since this morning, then I had a
glass of wine then. . .well, you know. . I always get
sleepy. . .afterwards."

"Why didn't you eat?"

"Too busy for lunch, then too grossed out for dinner."

Okay, he thought, the details of the autopsies could
wait until morning. They hardly made for enticing
pillow talk.

Tucking his wife into bed and kissing her gently on
the cheek, he finished drying himself off. Although
aching to climb in beside her and cuddle up, Mulder
decided he'd better try to do something about the mess in the bathroom first. Because he knew Dana Scully pretty damned well by this point in their
relationship. If there were any negative consequences
from her behavior earlier this evening - if he teased
her or she went into the bathroom the next morning and realized the floor resembled a lake - she'd be
extremely unlikely to suggest something like that
again. So he wouldn't tease and he'd be the one to
clean up the mess. It was definitely worth it!

After dumping a load of sodden towels into the washing machine, Mulder climbed into bed. His wife sighed and snuggled up to him, all without seeming to wake up. He drifted off to sleep.

It seemed he'd been sleeping only a few minutes when
the chirp of his cell phone woke him up. Stumbling
into the living room, he answered it.

"Agent Mulder? Where the hell are you?" the voice
belonged to their boss, Assistant F.B.I. director
Walter Skinner. Because bureau regulations prohibited
married couples to work as partners, Mulder and Scully had adopted a "don't ask, don't tell" policy toward their marriage. They'd agreed they would never
actually lie about their relationship, but they'd also never exactly gotten around to informing Skinner of the nuptials they'd exchanged while on a case in Las Vegas a couple of months previously. So Mulder had to think fast.

"I'm at Scully's place, sir. I came over to discuss
the case with her last night and ended up falling
asleep over here." Okay, not a direct lie, Mulder told himself. He'd honestly had intentions of discussing the case when he walked in the door. How was he to know that his wife would have a better idea? And he had fallen asleep. (After they'd made love, but Skinner didn't need to know that part.) "Why are you calling me at five in the morning?"

"There's been another death. We need you and Scully
down here right away." After barking out directions to the crime scene, Skinner hung up.

Mulder walked into the bedroom and touched his wife
gently on the shoulder. "Hey, Scully, wake up. Quick!"

"What is it?"

"Skinner just called. Another death. They need us at
the scene right away."

"Okay. Let me brush my teeth and then I'll get
dressed."

Within five minutes, they had left the apartment and
were headed toward the crime scene. After a few
blocks, Mulder spotted a donut shop that had just
opened for business and pulled into the drive-thru.

"Why are we stopping? I thought Skinner wanted us down there ASAP," Scully said.

"He does, but you need to eat. You haven't had
anything since yesterday morning. Two coffees and half a dozen plain donuts," Mulder said to the girl at the window.

The agents had just finished their breakfast when they pulled up to the crime scene.

It was fifteen hours later when they finally left
their basement office after putting the finishing
touches on the case. They had a suspect in custody and a preliminary report written up for Skinner.

As they got in the car, Scully leaned back against the passenger side and closed her eyes. "Mulder, this is one time that I'm glad you almost always insist on
driving. If I were left to my own devices, I think I
would have just slept at my desk."

He turned to smile at her. "We'll be home in a few
minutes, Scully."

"Did Skinner say anything to you about being at my
place in the middle of the night?"

"Nope. Either he bought my story or he just doesn't
care. He's probably grateful we were able to finger a
human killer for him."

"Mulder?"

"Mmm?"

"About last night. . ."

"Yeah?"

"You haven't said a word about it."

"It was wonderful. Fantastic. You were,"

"I don't mean like that," she interrupted. "Usually you like to tease me when I behave sort of. . .out of
character. Like the time I suggested spontaneous human combustion as a solution to an X-File. I thought you were *never* going to let me live that one down."

"Not this time, Dana."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm afraid if I tease you, the next time you
get an idea like that you'll be afraid of being teased and won't follow through. So, I promise, not a word."

"Mmm," she said with a smile. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Scully. Come on. We're home."