Title: Touch the Sky 
Author: Trajan Dunn
Summary: Scully takes a chance on something she didn't
think was possible--life outside the Bureau.
Keywords: Sc/Other so far.
Warning: Rated R; adults only, please. 
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by their respective
production houses, including 10-13, Chris Carter, Fox, etc.
I'm just borrowing them for a while; no money is changing
hands. 
Archive: Anywhere you like, but keep author's name,
rating, and disclaimer attached.
Comments to: trajan@optonline.net


The fall air was crisp and Dana Scully was happy to be
back in New York City, even if only for a three-day
conference on the pharmacology of novel molecules and
related advances in forensic drug detection. It was not
often that she had a legitimate reason to attend an
educational program, and this particular conference could
not have come at a better time. The truth was she was
tired. Tired from a relentless case load that had dragged
across ten states and two continents in as many weeks. Worn
out from chasing her partner to the ends of the earth in
search of lord knows what. Fatigue accentuated fine lines
she'd never noticed before, and the mirror was becoming a
worse enemy than any she had ever faced. 

Walter Skinner had offered her the use of his empty Soho
loft but she declined, preferring the effortless comfort of
room service and hotel amenities. His apartment held
powerful and disturbing memories of passion and excess,
memories she did not want to intrude on her quiet
educational sabbatical. Thus it was that she checked into
the Hilton that afternoon sans Mulder, anticipating nothing
more than a good dinner and a hot bath.

She was not disappointed. Remi on 53rd was within walking
distance and she ambled over, remembering the glowing
recommendation Steve Spencer down in Ballistics had offered
up. The restaurant was crowded, and she left her name and
nursed a cosmopolitan at the stylish mahogany bar. Once she
would have been uncomfortable walking into a chic
restaurant alone but these days a disdainful maitre d' was
insignificant compared to some of the...things...she'd
faced. Tonight she felt profoundly relaxed. For the first
time in what felt like years her mind was empty of worry,
empty of fear, and untroubled by her work. 

"Scully, party of one," the tuxedoed maitre d' announced.
She followed him to a small table against the soaring,
curved central wall and the few pairs of curious eyes that
followed her quickly lost interest. She sat back on the
comfortable banquette and perused the tantalizing nouveau
Italian menu. Having decided on a marinated eggplant
appetizer and broiled salmon, she pulled out the latest
copy of Toxicology Review and her reading glasses and
settled in for a leisurely meal.

One pair of eyes did not lose interest. Adam Danzig was
entertaining a select group of medical researchers and was
growing bored with the conversation. These men were the
best and brightest, and he respected their accomplishments,
but he was tired of smiling in the face of good-natured
criticism of his industry. When he was just starting out he
entered the debate gladly, but no longer. It was easier and
less stressful to simply laugh at their politically-correct
pot shots. They would only go so far, after all. They knew
where their research funding came from. 

So Adam Danzig, Chairman of Danzig Biologicals, smiled at
their jokes and encouraged them to eat and drink at his
expense. But ever so often his eyes alighted on the
studious redhead seated a few tables down. Her quiet
reserve and intelligent mien intrigued him. He managed to
make out the title of the journal she was reading and his
forced smile became real. There was a good chance she was
in the city for the conference, which meant he'd see her
again, and maybe have an opportunity to speak to her. 

***

This was one comfortable bed, Scully thought as she
reached absently for the ringing bedside phone and brought
the receiver to her ear. 

"Scully?"

"Mulder," she said with resignation. Damn the man.
Couldn't he leave her in peace for even a single evening?
"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay
with you. Oh, and to let you know that Skinner accepted the
Bledsoe report without any revisions."

"That's a relief," she said without feeling as she
snuggled deeper into the cool white sheets and used the TV
remote to flick through the channels. 

"That's all I wanted to tell you, Scully." She didn't miss
the pregnant pause as he waited for her to fill his ear
with small talk. She didn't oblige him.

"Good night, Mulder," she said. And leave me the hell
alone, she added silently, and dropped the receiver into
its cradle before he finished his reply. She was not up to
thinking about her dysfunctional partner, forty years old
and stuck in a time warp since his twelfth birthday. She
sighed and once more let her mind go blank before the
random imagery on the television screen.

***

She rose in her own time, refreshed and awake and pleased
by the sunny fall weather that showed off the metropolis to
its best advantage. She indulged in a continental breakfast
in her room that set the upbeat tone for the entire morning.

She chatted amiably with the Turkish cabbie on the way to
Rockefeller University, and found the opening session with
no trouble. She clipped on her participant's badge and
walked into the auditorium where the keynote address was
already underway. 

She found a seat near the back and checked her program.
Adam Danzig was the speaker. She recognized his name as the
chairman of one of the world's largest instrumentation and
drug combines. Danzig Biologicals not only had the fattest
pipeline in the business, it was a prime government
contractor for the analytical and diagnostic equipment the
FBI labs depended on. That ultimately she depended on. She
turned her attention away from his speech, which was
suitably generic, and her wandering thoughts turned to the
man himself.

She could not help but be impressed. He looked to be in
his mid-forties. His dark hair was flecked with gray at the
temples, and his strong features combined into a handsome
portrait. He was tall, fit, and impeccably dressed, as
befitted his salary and stock options. She briefly computed
her potential lifetime earnings and frowned when she
compared it to what she imagined his annual salary might
be. Her mother had always teased that it was just as easy
to marry a rich man as a poor one. She'd laughed then, but
it didn't seem so funny now. 

***

Adam Danzig noticed the redhead's late entry but he didn't
let it show either by appearance or inflection. He
continued his prepared address and tucked her presence away
in the back of his mind. It wasn't until the polite
applause diminished that he allowed his eyes to seek her
out once more, and he was momentarily startled when he was
unable to locate her in the exiting crowd. Damn! She was so
tiny! But that flaming red hair was hard to hide. He
relaxed and allowed himself to be drawn into conversation
with the conference participants. He'd find her. 

Scully stood in the sunlit atrium framing the entrance of
the auditorium and scanned the attendee list in the back of
the scientific program. A quick search revealed no familiar
names, and she was surprised. She'd half expected to see
Tom Bellows' name. He never missed a good tox show, and the
FBI never begrudged the Molecular Analysis Section the
expense. She turned back to the beginning of the program
and perused the scientific breakout sessions, planning her
schedule for the day. 

"I'd definitely make time for chirals and enantiomers."
The smooth voice was accompanied by a well-manicured finger
that pointed squarely at the ten o'clock session she'd been
eyeing. Both belonged to a man she recognized.

"Thank you, Mr. Danzig," she replied.

"Dr. Danzig, actually," he said, and she looked up at him.
He held his hand out to her and she took it. "But don't let
it bother you. It's just a PhD."

"Dana Scully. Dr. Dana Scully, MD. FBI."

"Delighted to meet you, Dr. Scully. I do a lot of business
with the government. The FBI in particular tests our
resourcefulness on a near-constant basis." His broad smile
was hard to ignore. 

He was even more impressive in person than on the podium
and she felt the color rising in her cheeks. "Yes, we do
occasionally get some troublesome samples."

He looked quickly at his watch and gestured toward someone
by the door. "I wasn't kidding about that scientific
session. Try it. Miller's a genius. You can give me your
opinion over dinner tonight."

He turned and made a hasty exit toward his colleague at
the door, leaving Scully shaking her head and chuckling at
his flirtation. She pushed him out of her mind and returned
to the program. She had five minutes to make it across the
campus to the session.

He was right about Jean Miller. The woman was a brilliant
research chemist with gift for teaching and the soul of a
medical examiner. She illustrated many of her points with
macabre stories pulled from actual coroner's case files.
She found herself totally engrossed, absorbing
sophisticated information with unparalleled ease. After
having to sit through so many boring lectures in her life
she'd forgotten that teaching was a skill and an art that
few were truly gifted with. After the session she made sure
to introduce herself.

"Dr. Miller, your presentation was wonderful! It's a rare
thing to be able to make such a complex subject so
understandable and enjoyable."

"Thank you, dear. And you are...?" 

"Dr. Dana Scully." The older woman had a firm, sure
handshake.

"Ah, I know that name! Every time Tom Bellows is stumped
he calls me. And in almost every instance your name is
attached to the sample! Do you know that I've preserved a
fragment of every sample he's sent me? Where do you find
such interesting stuff?"

"I'm not allowed to tell," she said lightly. "Government
hush-hush and all that." She hoped Miller would let it go.
Some things were better left unexplained.

Dr. Miller leaned in conspiratorially. "Real James Bond,
hmm?"

Before she could frame and answer a colleague pulled Dr.
Miller away, and she waved a friendly goodbye. Scully
checked her program and grabbed a yogurt on the way to
"Gross and microscopic brain morphology after short and
extended courses of antipsychotic drugs," and spent the
rest of the afternoon slicing, staining, and examining
brain tissue under the guidance of a Lasker Prize winner.
 
***

Back in Washington Walter Skinner was pacing his office
restlessly. Scully had been gone less than 24 hours and
already he was anxious. Not about her safety--she could
take care of herself. But about her emotional condition.
She'd been so tired, so drained. She said she wanted
nothing more than mindless rest and relaxation and the
quiet peacefulness of a scientific symposium. For selfish
reasons he didn't want to let her go but he had no
professional reasons to deny her request.

"A change will do me good," she'd said to him the night
before. "It's been too much for me, these past few months."
When he pressed her to stay in DC, reminding her how much
he needed her, she began to cry. Not self-contained little
Scully tears, but waterworks that left him speechless. "You
and Mulder...the pressure is killing me. I HAVE to get
away. Don't you see?"

There was nothing more he could say. If that was the way
she felt, then that was that. When she refused his offer of
the downtown loft he felt like she'd kicked him in the gut,
but he said nothing. Now he was pacing again, eye on the
phone as he debated with himself. Finally his resistance
broke and he dialed.

"Sam? Skinner here."

"Hey, FBI man! Long time! How ya doin'?" Sam Domanico had
been a good partner and an even better friend to him while
they were tracking drugs and illegal technology in New
York. He hated to use him this way.

"Good, Sam. Everything's fine."

Sam wasn't stupid. "So why the call? You and Red up to no
good?"

"No, Sam. Nothing like that." He tried to keep it casual
but he wasn't sure he succeeded. "Actually, Agent Scully's
in New York now for a toxicology conference."

"The one at Rockefeller University?"

"That's the one."

"Lotta big cheeses there. Nobel Prize winners. We're doing
some discreet protection, you know what I mean?" 

"Scully's there and I was wondering, Sam, only if you have
the time of course, and it doesn't interfere with your
caseload, and..."

"You want me to keep an eye on her?"

Skinner let out the breath he was holding in a rush.
"Would you?"

"Only if you tell me why." Sam realized long ago that it
was going to be one of his earthly duties to force Skinner
to own up to his true feelings for the little redhead. "Is
she in danger?"

"No."

"So?"

"Sam," Skinner said ominously, "don't try my patience."

"Is there another man?"

Skinner remained silent and Sam was incredulous. "You want
evidence of another man?"

"I don't know, Sam. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm just
worried about her up there. She's coming off a brutal
caseload and she's about had it with me and Mulder. I don't
want to lose her, Sam."

So that what this was all about. "She tell you she was
leaving you?"

"Of course not."

"And you still want me to watch her?"

Silence again.

"No. I'm not going to do it. I'm not going to mess with
her that way. I'm at Rockefeller nine to five. I see her,
fine. I'll let you know. Her private life stays private.
End of story."

"Call me twice a day." He gave Sam a direct number, not
even trying to hide his disgust with himself.

"Hey, Skinner."

"Yes?"

"Do you trust anybody?"

"No. Do you?"

Skinner hung up before Sam could think up a clever retort.
Something was going on with Skinner and that didn't bode
well for Red. He put his long, jeans-clad legs up on his
desk and leaned back in his chair. Those two had to be the
most inhumanly repressed people he'd ever met. Oh, he liked
them both. Skinner was a dream partner and Red, well Red
was every wet dream he'd ever had in his sorry life. He
wished they could loosen up a bit. Live a little. But he
didn't like this spying business. Skinner didn't trust her
and that was going to be his downfall.

***

Scully was feeling tired but relaxed by the time she made
it back to her hotel. She kicked off her shoes and dropped
her clothes on the floor as she made her way to the
luxurious bath. She ran a steaming tub and explored the
scents and salts. It felt good to be able to walk through
the large suite naked without worrying about whether
someone with a key was about to barge in uninvited. She
didn't like it when Mulder did it, although she recognized
the reasons why he needed access to her rooms. She
especially didn't like it when Skinner did it. She wished
she'd never given him a key. 

Here she was truly alone, and it felt good. She returned
to the bathroom and gratefully sank into the steaming suds
in a moment of profound bliss. Her eyes closed and she
willed herself to forget the sturm und drang of her
tempestuous relationships with Mulder and Skinner. Forget
the incipient rotator cuff injury that years of firing that
damn Glock was causing. Forget the lines on her face.
Forget her fears for her future.

The sound of the ringing telephone finally penetrated to
her ears and she reached up lazily to the wall-mounted
receiver.

"Yes?" she whispered.

"When can I pick you up?" a smooth baritone asked.

"Excuse me?" she said, still lost in a fragrant dream.

"Dinner, Dr. Scully. I want to take you to dinner."

"Dr. Danzig." She sighed. She was too comfortable by a
long shot to go out to dinner. But she liked the sound of
his voice. "Right now I am taking a well-earned bath and I
am too relaxed and too sleepy to even think of going out."

"Adam."

"Hmm?"

"Madam, I'm Adam."

Scully burst out laughing in spite of herself.

"Before you say anything, know that I've never said that
to anyone in my life."

"I'll bet," she said, curiously unwilling to end the
conversation.

"Did you enjoy the Miller session?"

"You were right on about that," she said, giving the man
his due. "Haven't had a better day in years."

"Then you trust my judgement?"

"Well, now, that's asking a lot." Scully rubbed her neck
and shoulder with one hand while she spoke. It felt
forbiddenly sensual, touching herself while talking to this
man who was so obviously interested in her.

"Are you still in the bath?" he asked huskily.

"Ummm…"

"Then you have me at a disadvantage. I can't think
straight with that image in my head. Will you have dinner
with me tomorrow night? I want to know you better."

"Yes."

"I'll pick you up at the Hilton at, oh, five thirty?"

"Isn't that a little early?"

"I want to take you someplace special."

"That sounds wonderful, Adam."

"Get some rest, Dana. Good night."

She reached up and hung the sudsy receiver back up on the
second try. She focused on her hand still rubbing her neck
and shoulder. Mulder's touch was so tentative, like he
wasn't at all sure what to do. Skinner was heavy handed.
Not his fault; he was big and aggressive and sometimes he
didn't realize how rough he could be. Her thoughts turned
to Adam Danzig. He was straightforward. Intelligent. Rich.
Easy on the eyes. Maybe a little too used to getting his
way, but she supposed that went with the territory. She
liked his phone manner. More importantly, he wasn't hiding
anything, and that was a novelty she wasn't about to pass
up.

***

Skinner jumped on the phone when the private number rang
through. "Sam?" he said breathlessly.

"Yours truly," he answered cockily. 

"What's the story?"

"There's NO STORY, Skinner" Sam barked. "She put a smile
on her face, went to the conference, and had a properly
educational day. Jeez, man. What do you think? It's Sodom
and Gomorrah up here? We got civilization too, you know." 

"Where did she go after the conference?"

Sam was exasperated. "Back to the Hilton. You know, this
is not working out..."

"Wait, Sam. Look, I'm sorry. Call me tomorrow?" He waited,
praying for Sam to agree. 

"Yeah, sure. Take it easy, will you?"

Sam hung up the phone in the lobby of the Hilton and
turned just in time to see Dana Scully approaching the tall
man he recognized as Adam Danzig. He remained where he was
while they chatted and didn't move until she took his arm
and they left the hotel.

***

"Where are we going?" she asked him as they waited in
front of the hotel for what Scully assumed would be a cab.
She was not prepared for the bright red 550 Maranello that
pulled up in front of them. Adam opened the door for her
then went around to the driver's seat.

"What the hell is THIS?" she asked, eyes wide as she
cantilevered herself in, wondering just how much clearance
there was between her rear and the cold, hard pavement.

"Well, it's not much fun having money if you don't get to
enjoy it." He helped her with the unfamiliar seat belt
configuration and smoothly put the car into first. 

"You still didn't tell me where we're going."

"To the best seafood on Long Island. It's about an hour
away. I promise to have you home by midnight. Deal?" She
nodded in agreement and he smiled as he pulled onto FDR
drive and they began the drive out to the east end. 

An hour later he pulled up to a magnificent beach property
situated on a bluff with views of both the bay and ocean.
"My god, this is spectacular!" she said with awe as he
helped her out of the small but very fast car. 

"This is why I wanted to pick you up so early." She had to
agree it was worth it. The setting sun painted the western
sky with pinks and golds that deepened into flaming majesty
with every second that passed. They watched transfixed
until the fading light and growing chill drove them into
the beckoning house.

Danzig pushed open the wide double doors. "Welcome to my
home." He followed her in and took her coat, and it was all
she could do to keep her mouth from hanging open like an
unsophisticated rube.

"It's beautiful!" she exclaimed. "So how many people live
here?"

He laughed. "I know it seems a bit large. And it is, even
for my tastes. But this is the size it was when I bought it
and I couldn't think of a good excuse to cut it down. So I
guess I'm stuck."

He had a mildly self-effacing way about him that she found
utterly charming. "So this is where to get the best seafood
on Long Island?" she said as she wandered into the first
floor central room with its soaring ceiling and twenty-foot
windowed walls that brought the glory of the seacoast so
close she could touch it. A fire was already started in the
large hearth, and she felt good.

He looked at her with a frown. "You know, something's
wrong here. I hate wearing a suit at the beach. The sand
never comes out of the pockets. I'll be right back."

Minutes later he reappeared wearing old, faded jeans and a
dark cable-knit sweater. His shoes and socks were replaced
with thick knit socks. He looked as relaxed and totally
comfortable as she wanted to be. He held out a cream
sweater to her. "I don't mean to be presumptuous, but
you'll be more comfortable in this."

She looked at him warily and he correctly interpreted her
concern. "Dana, I assure you that this is not a seduction.
I said I wanted to get to know you better and I meant it. I
don't need to force women to do anything."

"Sorry, Adam. It's just part of the job I always carry
with me, I suppose." She reached out to take the soft
sweater.

"Up the stairs, second door on the right. My jeans won't
fit you, but these socks are great," he said as he wiggled
his toes. "Try a pair." 

"All right. I'll be right back." She climbed the curved
pine staircase and disappeared into his room. The upstairs
was as spectacular as the rest. His room commanded a
wondrous view of the sea, and had her longing for her
forgotten life as a Navy brat. She removed her jacket and
after a moment's hesitation her blouse as well, and slipped
on the oversized, soft wool sweater. She went to a bureau
and opened the top drawer and found a pair of the thick
knitted socks he was so fond of. She sat on the edge of the
bed and removed her shoes and stockings and slipped the
woolies on. Perfect. She debated taking her clothes
downstairs, but thought better of it and left them on a
rattan chair near the door.

He called to her as she climbed down the stairs,
cautioning her not to slip with the uncertain footing the
socks provided. "Ah, now you look carefree and comfortable.
What can I offer you?"

She looked over the wet bar. "How about a glass of white
wine?" 

He selected a bottle and within a minute they were
clinking glasses. "Come. Sit by the fire and tell me about
yourself, Dr. Dana Scully, MD, FBI."

She sat on the white canvas sofa and he didn't crowd her.
She gave him the fifteen minute story of her life, leaving
out the most recent developments. 

"I get the sense you really like your work," he said
perceptively.

"I do," she said, sipping the excellent wine. "But it can
be very draining. Very intense. I need to decompress more
often than I used to."

"It's hard chasing the unexplainable all the time, I
imagine."

He didn't seem at all fazed by her paranormal experiences.
"How do you know they're unexplainable?"

"Dana, who do you think Jean Miller calls when she's
stumped?"

"You? You're a businessman. How..."

"I'm a chemist first. Engineer second. Dr. Danzig,
remember? I'd go crazy if all I had to keep me busy were
shareholders' meetings and profit and loss statements." He
got up and poured himself another small glass of wine.
"You, Dr. Scully, are one of the reasons I'm a prime
government contractor."

"Hmm? I don't understand."

"Whenever you or one of your colleagues submit a sample my
equipment can't analyze, I'm forced to develop new
processes. New instrumentation. Which the government is
then obliged to lease, since it now solves the very problem
they needed it for in the first place." He laughed
riotously, and she could help but follow.

"And you, Adam?" She was enjoying his easy ways, his
accepting nature, and the way he embraced life. 

"Diagnostics. Some pharmaceuticals, by acquisition mostly.
Instrumentation. Chemist first, engineer second. That about
sums it up."

They both looked up as a tantalizing spread of seafood was
wheeled into the living room and laid out on the low coffee
table. Cracked steamed lobsters, fresh littleneck clams in
seaweed, bay scallops in their shells, grilled tiger shrimp
on skewers, and thick salmon steaks. Scully was amazed as
the bounty was laid out on the table. "There's enough here
to feed an army!"

"I like to eat," he said matter of factly.

"You'd never know it," she said, eyeing his trim physique.

"You'll see."

"Actually, this is my favorite," he whispered, and
uncovered a hot bucket of fries crisp from the fat. "With
salt and vinegar, of course."

"Of course," she laughed. They tied on the lobster bibs
and dug in like two children. Once the servants were gone,
the conversation resumed amidst the sound of cracking
shells and fingers being licked.

"You started your business from scratch, didn't you," she
ventured.

"Yes. Out of college. I was lucky. Had the right breaks.
The right advisors." 

She looked away from him and took a sip of wine, suddenly
feeling a bit awkward.

"You want to know why I'm not married, don't you." 

She jerked around, almost upsetting her glass. "No, of
course not..." She was appalled. He'd read her like an open
book!

He put her at ease instantly. "Well I'll tell you anyway.
I'm very demanding."

She cocked an eyebrow at him and he rolled his eyes toward
the ceiling.

"No, scratch that. I'm very picky. Does that sound any
better?"

"Just marginally."

"I don't have the time or inclination to deal with fortune
hunters, groupies, or what have you. And at my age there
aren't that many interesting, unattached women left. I find
you extremely interesting, Dana. I hope you are unattached."

Interesting question. She must have hesitated too long
before answering because his face fell ever so slightly.

"Are you, Dana?"

"I've had an on and off relationship with my boss for a
while. I don't know where it's going, if anywhere. He asked
me to marry him once, a long time ago, but I refused. There
are too many issues."

"Can't say that makes me sorry." He stood up then and held
out his hand to her. "Come watch the night with me."

She scrubbed the last of the lobster from her fingers and
followed him out to the deck and a well-cushioned chaise.
He killed the lights in the house and the night sky glowed
like a thousand points of crystal in the against the soft
rush of the surf. She relaxed against his shoulder and drew
her legs up, and let him put his arm around her.

It felt good. It felt right. She sensed no pressure from
him, no urgency. There were no ugly secrets. No shared
history hanging over them. No fear. No guilt. Suddenly she
wanted to be closer to him and the uncomplicated purity he
represented.

He felt her nestle closer and he turned his attention from
the heavens toward her. She was so tiny, so delicate. He
felt her fingers through the denim on his thigh and his
breath caught. He didn't want to press her, didn't want to
rush her.

He brushed his lips against her forehead. "I told you I
wouldn't try to seduce you, Dana. I wasn't lying."

"I know," she said, kneading his thigh more urgently. "But
this feels right, Adam." 

He didn't resist when she pulled him to her. He kissed her
gently, the barest touch of lips, learning her contours in
the cool dark. He was cautious, afraid that maybe he'd been
wrong, that maybe she was just another conniving fortune
hunter. But she didn't rush him, was in no hurry to claim
him for her own. He moved slowly, savoring her like fine
brandy, alert for any sign of insincerity or treachery.
When he could sense no hidden agenda he opened the
floodgates of his passion and truly kissed her, pressing
her close and reaching down into her soul. She responded to
him in a way he hadn't thought possible. He pushed her
away. 

"What is it?" she asked, stroking his face in the cold
starlight.

He ran a hand through his hair and looked at her. "I'm
afraid, Dana. That you're the one I've been waiting for all
these years."

"Would that be so bad?" she asked, leaning against his
chest.

"I don't know." He looked at the fluorescent hands of his
watch. "It's getting late. We'll have to leave now if I'm
going to keep my promise to get you home before midnight."

She sighed. "All right. But just give me a few more
minutes of this perfect moment."

She made the first move to get up and he rose quickly to
put the lights on. Her face was flushed, from the cold or
passion he couldn't tell, and her hair was in disarray. Her
lips were swollen from his kisses. He had never seen
anything more beautiful. "I want to see you again."

"Yes," she said.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes." She would have done anything he'd asked right then.
"I need to get my things."

"Of course. And I can't drive without shoes!" He followed
her up the curved stairway and she had never been more
acutely aware of a man before in her life.

She stepped into the bedroom and looked up, just realizing
that the ceiling opened onto the heavens through huge
skylights. She stood there staring at the majesty, not
wanting to move, not wanting to go back to the city.

"Adam," she said softly.

"What's wrong, Dana?" he asked. "Why are you crying?"

"There are things I've believed in, things I was so sure
of. But then life interfered and the years made me lose
faith. I thought it was all gone, but maybe there's still a
tiny piece of me that can still believe."

He cupped her face in his hands and thumbed away her
tears. "In love?" he asked gently.

"Partly, but it's more than that. More a belief in the
future. My future."

He bent and kissed her gently then, and as they walked out
to the car she felt hope pushing through the dark and
unyielding walls of her soul, reaching toward a light she
thought had been extinguished long ago. 

___________________

Scully awoke the next morning once again refreshed, even
though she hadn't returned from Danzig's beach house until
almost midnight. She'd had a wonderful evening. Fine food,
excellent wine, and exceptional company. Maybe too
exceptional. 

She spied his cable-knit sweater lying over a chair as she
meandered toward the bathroom for a shower. He was so
unlike any of the men she knew, or had known. There were no
dark secrets hanging over him. No hidden agendas. She'd
thought he was out for a quick one-night stand and she
couldn't have been more wrong. Even when she practically
threw herself at him, he wouldn't take advantage of her.
She'd worn her emotions on her sleeve last night and he'd
respected them. After all the cruelty and deceit she seen
in and out of the FBI she'd forgotten such men were
possible. 

She dressed casually after a quick shower and took a taxi
up to Rockefeller University. There were two lectures she
was particularly eager to attend, both concerning DNA
typing. She exited the taxi into the chilly sunlight and
found herself staring up into the face of Sam Domanico.

"Hey, Red!" he said exuberantly.

"Sam!" She flew into his outstretched arms. She'd missed
the fast-talking Brooklynite. "What are you doing here?" 

"This conference has attracted some pretty big names.
Other than yours, of course."

She swatted his arm affectionately, then turned serious.
"Have there been any threats?"

"No, but the city doesn't like to take chances during
events like this. I've got a few blues up here keeping an
eye on things." He regarded her intently for a moment.
"How's Skinner?"

"Good, Sam. I think he's good. Sometimes it's hard to tell
with him, you know?" She squinted into the sunlight that
set her hair on fire.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. You two okay?"

"Why the sudden interest? Maggie still won't ride with you?"

He laughed. "Sometimes I think that woman would prefer Son
of Sam, actually. How long you in town?" He hated lying to
her, hated keeping up this charade.

"Just another day or two. Until the conference is over." 

"Meet anyone interesting?" he said innocently.

"A couple of people, yeah. It's a very relaxing crowd."

"Okay, you stay well. You need me, you know where to find
me."

She leaned forward and gave him a peck on the cheek.
"That's for Mike." Mike Lantz was Sam's partner, and an
long-time friend of Skinner.

"Well then you better give me another, 'cause I'm keeping
that one for myself."

She laughed and kissed his other cheek, then lowered her
sunglasses and walked into the campus. Ah Red, he thought.
If you only knew how many broken hearts you leave at your
feet. 

The morning lecture was hands-on, and Scully was
thoroughly engrossed. She enjoyed lab work and this was
just beautiful. New PCR techniques. And every piece of
equipment from the novel gel electrophoresis systems to the
incubators had Danzig's name on it. He was a hard man to
forget. She smiled as she thought about seeing him again
that evening. 

***

"Skinner?"

"Sam. What do you have?"

"Nothing. She looks terrific, though. This conference is
doing her a world of good. Maybe it's time you took it easy
on her. Don't push her so hard. Maybe what she needed to
get away from was you, you know?"

"I'm coming up there tonight."

"As you like. Stop by and say hello. Mike would love to
see you."

"Of course, Sam. And thanks for everything."

Skinner stared out at the thin October light streaming
into his office window with a deepening frown on his face.
What was so wrong that she could be so miserable here and
suddenly so happy in New York? His unseeing vigil continued
and that was where Mulder found him.

"Sir?"

"Mulder, what do you want?" Skinner didn't even look up at
him.

"Actually, I came to find out if you were all right.
You've been very distant recently. Kinda out of it. My work
is on hold without Scully, and..."

"My life is on hold without Scully," he said softly from
the window as he turned to Mulder. "Have you every loved
anyone that much, Mulder?" The AD began his restless pacing
again. "She'll give me just so much," he said, "and keep
the last inch from me."

"Have you talked about it? She's very logical."

"Did she tell you I asked her to marry me last year?"

"Yes." He wasn't sure where Skinner was going, but his
mood was not encouraging.

"Did she tell you why she turned me down?"

"No."

"Me neither." He sat heavily in the leather chair behind
the smooth expanse of cherrywood. "I'm a jealous man,
Mulder. I didn't realize it until I started up with Scully.
Christ, she brings out the worst in me."

"And also the best, Sir."

Skinner looked up into Mulder's soft, deerlike eyes. "I
asked Sam Domanico to keep an eye on her in New York. He
says she'd doing just fine."

"Is there anything I can do? Any way I can help?"

Skinner looked at his agent for a moment and thought he
saw an invitation he wasn't prepared to acknowledge. He
hoped he was wrong, but he wasn't going to risk it. "Get
out of here, Mulder. I'm going to New York tonight. Talk
some sense into her."

"You could also scare her farther away."

It was true. But he had to try. She was killing him
softly. He'd rather have a stake through the heart.

***

Sam Domanico lurked in the lobby of the Hilton long enough
to see Scully leave once more with Adam Danzig. There was
real affection in her eyes and an intimacy that was absent
the previous meeting. He frowned, hoping he was misreading
the signs. 

"Where to?" she asked playfully. It was Friday evening and
she felt like a teenager. He had the red Ferrari again and
she felt exuberant. It was an unfamiliar sensation, this
freedom. 

"What's your choice, Dana?" he asked in all seriousness.

"Anywhere, as long as we end up back at that beach house."

He laughed. "It's my favorite house, too." With that he
turned the car south and Scully found herself at a Chinese
billard hall. Adam knew the owner, and soon they were set
up with a couple of Tsingtaos and a table.

"Your break," he called.

She lined up the shot, wiggling her rear in the process
and losing control of the cue. Adam proceeded to instruct
her on the finer points of the sport, but she could not
concentrate with his hard body pressed against her back as
he guided her shot. "You're too tense," he whispered in her
ear. "I know a better place to learn."

Before she knew what was happening they were once again in
the red road rocket, heading into the upper east side. He
left the car with a valet and they took a private elevator
up to the penthouse of a magnificent East 73rd street
building. He gave the maid their coats and guided her to a
richly appointed billiard room. He tossed her a stick and
took off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. "Here's
where we learn the finer points."

He racked and broke, and put on some soft jazz as she
lined up her shot. He watched until he understood her
intent, then interceded. "It's Newtonian physics, pure and
simple. Be the ball." He leaned over her, hands on hers,
lips near her ear. "Know where the cue needs to touch you,
to send you on your proper course."

She lost what concentration she had and missed the shot.
He straightened up slowly and walked around the table,
never taking his eyes off of her. He chalked the tip of his
cue and pocketed five balls in a row before flubbing a
corner rebound shot. 

"How many homes do you have?" she finally asked.

"A few. I like my privacy and I don't care for impersonal
hotel service." 

"About last night," she began, and her cheeks colored.

"You have nothing to apologize for. You were charming,
exciting, and intriguing. Perfect in every way."

"Thank you." His easy acceptance and deep understanding of
human nature were a revelation.

He was glad she let it drop. He had no patience with false
modesty. "Take the corner shot. There, the purple ball."
She followed his instructions and made the shot, and
laughed with glee. The next shot was trickier and once more
he leaned over her to assist.

She could feel the heat radiating from his taut body. "I
can't think when you're this close," she said, arching her
back to rub her neck against his rough chin. 

"Then don't think," he said, and pulled her back up
against him with an arm around her waist. "You don't know
what you do to me," he gasped as he buried his lips against
her neck. He groaned as she sagged against him. He picked
her up easily and carried her a short way down an art-laden
marble hall and up a narrow stairway. He pushed the door
open with his shoulder and gently released her. She looked
up in wonder. The ceiling of this room, too, was open to
the stars. In the middle of the city it was an awesome
sight. 

The quarter moon illuminated the sky and cast a pale blue
light. Scully felt the electricity, the power of that moon.
She looked at Adam Danzig and saw the chained hunger in the
man's face, in his posture, in the restless movement of his
hands and the rapid motion of his chest.

She felt possessed by Artemis and Selene and by the
spirits of every wood nymph that ever inspired a poet's
song. The moonlight made her powerful and bold. And he was
waiting for her.

She moved toward him as he leaned against the wall and
pulled him toward the center of the room. The blue light
illuminated his perfect features and he stood motionless
while she touched him. She shed her jacket and her blouse.
She continued to circle him, dropping her clothes as she
did. By the time she was naked he was as tense as a
drumhead. 

"There's magic in the moonlight. But you know that, don't
you," she said softly as she trailed her fingers along his
back.

"Yes." He looked up at the pale lunar arc. She pulled his
tie through his collar and dropped it, and watched as he
unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off. Just as quickly he
rid himself of his trousers, like they were a foreign
thing. He stood before her and she felt his radiance, as if
he were a lens focusing the power of heaven itself. 

The man, the moonlight, the cool sheets...she lost all
sense of time and space as he made love to her with slow,
deliberate grace. He offered soft words in languages she
didn't understand and languages she did. Fervent kisses
that left him naked and exposed to her. Caresses of such
aching sweetness she almost cried. When he finally entered
her it was if she and the sky and the man were one vast,
unified whole. She lost the knowledge of boundaries, and
her climax left her shattered. 


Adam Danzig smiled down at the proud, brave beauty lying
unconscious beside him. He stroked her fiery hair and
kissed her gently. He had waited so long for a woman like
her. He looked up once more into the actinic blue light and
offered thanks before gathering her up into his arms and
giving himself up to sleep.

***

Walter Skinner prowled his New York loft like a caged
tiger. He'd called the Hilton every half hour for the past
four hours and he didn't know if he was on the edge of fury
or fear. Out of desperation he called Sam Domanico.

"Whoever you are, it's one in the morning and this better
be good." Sam was sleepy and irritated and ready to hang
up. 

"It's Skinner. Do you know where Scully is?"

"What? Hilton. She's at the Hilton."

"She's not there."

"Maybe she went out with friends. Give it a rest, Skinner.
I'm going to bed."

"What aren't you telling me, Sam?"

"Go to bed. Talk to her tomorrow. I'm going to bed." He
hung up before Skinner could protest. There would be hell
to pay tomorrow and he'd need all the rest he could get to
weather it. Damn these bureaucrats, anyway. Couldn't get
the government right. Shouldn't be any surprise they
couldn't get their personal lives right either.

***

"My god, what time is it?" Scully woke with a start in
Danzig's east side penthouse.

"Shh, it's still early." He held her cradled in his arms
and she settled back against him, enjoying the feel of his
solid warmth against her back. She felt content in a way
she'd never experienced before. As if anything at all was
possible.

"What happened? I remember being with you, and then..."
She looked up at him with question marks in her sapphire
eyes. 

"It seems we're quite compatible," he said with a smile.
"I suspected it all along."

She snuggled closer to him. "It feels so unreal in the
light of day."

He rolled over her then, and pinned her hands over her
head in one of his. "Never doubt me, Dana. Never." His
seriousness passed as quickly as it had come, and he kissed
her with a finesse that left her weak.

"I have to get back to the hotel," she said, scanning the
floor for her clothes and looking for a bath. 

He laughed out loud at her frantic motions and pointed to
a doorway. "Slowly, slowly! I don't want you to fall and
hurt yourself!" Come back and I will have breakfast for
you."

He waited until she was gone, then made his obeisance to
the four cardinal points. His points. His universe. His
world. He wandered into another bath and showered and
shaved, and was still back in the bedroom, half-dressed,
before his little redhead.

Grace had brought a tray and Scully's eyes lit up when she
saw the fruits and chocolate. "How did you know?" 

"I guessed. Wine and chocolate suit you." She poured them
each a cup of the hot dark brew and they tasted it silently.

"Delicious!" 

"A gift of the sun," he agreed, and handed her a fig. She
bit into its sweetness, wondering at the remarkable man
beside her. 

She looked at her watch. "Are you going to the conference
today?" she asked, sipping her chocolate quickly.

"No, I'll be at the office today. But I will see you to
the Hilton," he said, standing and pulling out a fresh
shirt and tie.

"You don't have to do that," she said, "and I'm late."

"No you're not, and I want to go with you. Sit down and
eat." 

Within minutes he was dressed. "So, how do I look?" he
asked her, and she noticed there was no mirror in the room.
She straightened the knot in his tie and smiled. "Perfect."

He kissed the top of her head and escorted her out,
stopping only to retrieve their coats and call out some
requests to Grace.

***

Walter Skinner had been sitting in the lobby of the Hilton
Hotel since three that morning. Flashing his badge had
earned him grudging permission from hotel security to
monopolize the overstuffed armchair. He had dozed on and
off but he was alert now as the morning traffic picked up.
He didn't know what he'd say to her but he needed to see
her.

She was smiling as she entered the lobby, as was the tall,
well-dressed man with her. She held his arm with a
familiarity that bothered him. Before he could lean down to
kiss her he appeared before them.

"Hello, Agent Scully," he said flatly.

"Sir? What are you doing here?" she asked, flustered by
his appearance as well as his very presence. His eyes were
bloodshot from lack of sleep and he sported a day-old
stubble.

"Waiting for you," he said.

Adam Danzig paid him no attention. "Dinner tonight?" he
asked her softly, almost as an aside.

Skinner laid a threatening hand on his shoulder. "I don't
think so," he said with finality. 

"I suggest you remove your hand if you value it," Danzig
replied. 

"Don't, Adam. He's FBI." And even softer, "He's armed."

Danzig laughed. "I'm not concerned about any weapons he
may have. Call me later, Dana. You have my number." He
turned to Skinner and held out a card. "And if you have
anything you want to say to me, call on me at my office."
Skinner took the card and the two of them watched Adam
Danzig disappear onto the street.

"Scully? What the hell's going on?"

She began to march angrily toward the elevator and Skinner
followed her. "I could ask you the same question. How dare
you come after me?"

"Who is he, Dana? What is he to you?" The doors of the
elevator opened and thankfully they were the only two to
get in.

"His name is Adam Danzig. We had dinner."

"The CEO of (insert name)?" 

"Yes," she said brusquely, continuing down the corridor to
her room, the AD in tow. She slipped the key card into its
slot and opened the door.

"You didn't sleep here last night," Skinner mumbled. 

"No, I didn't."

"Scully," be began, but she cut him off.

"Stop it! My name is Dana, not Scully! What do you want
from me?"

"I want to love you, Dana. I do love you. You have to know
that." How many times did he have to tell her? How many
times did he have to prove himself to her?

"Why does it have to be a love that strangles me? That
ties me and bites into me like a pair of handcuffs?" She
was crying freely now and he was helpless before the
onslaught.

"I was afraid you wanted another man. I see I was right."

"You drove me here!" she hissed, then relented in the face
of his stone-faced misery. "You want me like a bird in a
cage, to be taken out and petted to soothe your needs, then
put back until the next time."

"That's not true," he said, but he didn't sound
convincing, even to himself.

"Yes, it is! You give me your body, Walter, but never your
soul. Never your dreams, your secrets, your fears. I need
more than your physical presence, and that's something you
will never give me."

There was nothing he could say. It was all true. "I asked
you to marry me, Dana."

"And that's why I refused. I can't live with less than I
deserve. Less than I want. Less than a complete
relationship."

"Why didn't you tell me you felt this way?"

"I'm telling you now. I knew something was missing, but I
didn't have the courage until now to even try to identify
it. Now I know. Now you know." She turned from him,
surprised at the force of her honesty. 

"Before I came up here I told Mulder that your absence put
my whole life on hold." He came up behind her and rubbed
her shoulders gently. He wanted her to feel his body
against hers, to remember how good they were together. How
right. "I can't let you go, Dana. Not without a fight. You
know that."

"Don't hurt him, Walter. He's just a businessman. You're a
trained killer."

He released her abruptly at her callous remark. "Is that
how you see me? As nothing more than a licensed assassin?" 

"No, that's not what I meant. But you could hurt him..."

He pulled the Smith & Wesson from its holster and held it
out to her. "Shall I leave my gun with you, Dana? As proof
of my benign intentions?"

She smiled and reached out to touch his face. "I know what
you can do with your fists. It doesn't matter Walter, don't
you see? I don't know if I can continue with the FBI."

"You want to resign? What has he said to you?"

"Not a thing. But I'm tired. My shoulder hurts all the
time now from carrying a gun. I'm getting too old for this.
Too old to keep following Mulder around. Too old for
conspiracies and too old to see so much death. I can't have
children but I can still have a life. Give me that, Walter.
If you love me let me have a life."

She gathered up her conference materials and placed them
into her briefcase. "I'm going to the conference. Then I'm
having dinner with Adam Danzig. I return to Washington
tomorrow, and then we'll see."

Skinner couldn't stand by and watch her walk away. "That's
it, then? When she didn't respond he reached out to grab
her arm. He knew at that moment that he could never give
up, that he would do whatever it took, as often as
necessary, to prove himself to her. "Then give me this,
Dana." 

He pulled her to him and kissed her. He poured all the
love and desire he'd ever felt for her into that brief
moment, and he knew when he felt her weaken against him
that he still had the power to move her. 

She pulled away from him, eyes downcast, and picked up her
briefcase. "Goodbye, Walter," she said simply, and left him
standing in the middle of the room beside the unused bed. 

___________________

Scully strode out into the brilliant sunlight with the
memory of Walter Skinner's kiss still on her lips. She was
angry with him for invading her privacy, for following her,
but there was more. She touched her lips as she rode uptown
in a yellow taxi. 

She'd spent time with other men during their on-again, off-
again relationship, but he'd never reacted so strongly to
anyone as he had to Adam Danzig. Maybe he recognized the
very real possibility that she'd leave. Everything. Him,
the FBI, Mulder, Washington, everything. She thought about
Danzig. She'd known him barely two days, yet she was
prepared to turn her life upside down for him. She frowned.
That couldn't be right.

The depth of Skinner's jealousy was unexpected. In some
ways he reacted to Danzig even more viscerally than she.
She thought about that and smiled. He never reacted to
Mulder that way, but then again, Mulder was no threat to
him. Skinner had always been king of the hill by virtue of
his authority and presence, at least within the FBI. But
not here in the real world. And not now. And he couldn't
accept that. She touched her lips again. There was no
denying the physical attraction. 

She shook off the troubling thoughts and determined to
enjoy the sunny fall day on the Rockefeller University
campus. The sessions were scheduled to end at one, and she
wanted to put some time in on the exhibit floor to examine
the new instrumentation before the conference officially
closed at four.

***

Adam Danzig exited the elevator in the midtown skyscraper
that was the New York headquarters of Danzig Biologicals.
His business occupied the top three floors, and his own
55th floor office afforded him a spectacular view of the
city. He had paid heavily for code variances to permit the
rooftop skylights that opened onto the unobstructed sky. He
looked up now and felt satisfaction flooding through him as
the sunlight streamed down on him.

He was deep into company business when his secretary
announced that Assistant Director Walter Skinner was
requesting an interview. He smiled and asked her to send
him in.

He leaned back in his chair in the spacious office as the
FBI man entered. He had obviously taken the time to shower
and shave, and appeared freshly dressed and once more in
control of himself. 

"Mr. Danzig," he said.

Danzig stood and came around the desk, offering his hand.
"Adam, please," he said.

"Walter Skinner," came the terse response.

"What can I do for you, Walter?" he asked, leaning on the
edge of his desk. 

Skinner was taken aback by the very size of the office.
Danzig was wealthy beyond his imagination. Everywhere he
looked he saw expensive woods, intriguing original art, and
superb design. He was equally disarmed by the man's affable
manner. 

"I'd like to know your intentions concerning Agent
Scully," he said without preamble.

"That is personal, between us."

"She is under my command. If that's going to change I want
to know about it."

Danzig crossed to a small wet bar and poured a glass of
sparkling water. His guest declined his offer and he turned
to him once more. "That's not why you're here." He returned
to his perch on the edge of the desk. "You love her and you
think you're losing her."

Skinner was silent.

"You followed her here, didn't you? Spied on her like a
jealous husband."

"Danzig..." he warned.

"You are NOT her husband," he said in an unexpectedly
sharp voice. "She went with me of her own free will. You
will NOT interfere, Skinner."

Skinner had heard about enough. He rose to his full
height, knowing his size was usually enough to make most
men back down. It had no effect on Danzig. "If you hurt her
I'll kill you," he said softly through gritted teeth.

Danzig laughed. "I don't think so. Gun or no, you are no
match for me."

Skinner reached out in anger to his rival and in a blur of
motion found his own arm twisted behind him. "Don't make me
prove it, Skinner," Danzig threatened before he let him go. 

He returned once more to the chair behind his desk. "If
she chooses to stay with you, so be it. I won't stand in
her way. But it must be her choice. Do you understand?"

"This is not over, Danzig," Skinner said, and walked out.

Danzig sighed and leaned back in his chair. He knew how
the man felt and he didn't want to hurt him. But he would
not be denied, not when he was so close to all that he
desired. The waiting, that had been the worst. Time was his
greatest enemy. 

She called him late that afternoon, as he hoped she would.

"Dana! I'm so happy to hear your voice! What shall we do
tonight?"

"Adam, I'm not so sure I should see you again."

"Why not? Is it Walter Skinner?"

When the line remained silent he knew he was right. "Dana,
if you love him, go to him. But know that I am growing to
love you, too. I have so much to offer you. Give me a
chance."

"What time will you pick me up?" she said and he smiled
broadly.

"Check out of that hotel. We'll go to the beach house.
I'll be there in...oh, thirty minutes?"

"Make it an hour. 'Bye, Adam."

He had one more night to make her his.

***

The knock was too insistent to be anyone but Walter
Skinner. She opened the hotel room door a crack and waited.

"Let me in, Dana."

"What do you want?"

"I went to see Danzig today."

"What?" She opened the door at his admission and he
stepped in. 

"You're checking out?" he asked, eyeing her suit bag laid
open on the bad.

"Yes," she answered. "Why did you see Adam?"

Adam. She called him Adam with an ease that scalded him.
"I was angry. I thought I could scare him off."

"And?" she said flatly, still avoiding his eyes.

"It occurred to me that under different circumstances I'd
call him a friend."

She looked up at him finally, and saw the confused mix of
emotions in his dark velvet eyes. 

"It's not him I'm angry at, or you. I've made a mess of so
many things in my life. It shouldn't surprise me that I'd
ruin this, too." 
 
She continued packing as he slumped into a chair by the
window. "You didn't ruin anything," she said tentatively.

"You were right. I've done ugly things in my life. I've
kept secrets. Honor and duty are not the same thing, Dana,
and it's taken me a lifetime to learn the difference."

"Stop it, Walter." She zipped the bag closed and leaned on
it. 

He stood and crossed to her. "Why? This is what you wanted
to hear. You called me a trained killer. The government
gave me a bag of medals and I'm ashamed of every one. Every
time I have to send someone into a dangerous situation I
shake inside with terror."

"Stop. I don't want to hear any more!" She pressed her
hands to her ears to shut out the sound of his tortured
admission, to push him out of her heart. 

He pulled her hands away from her ears and forced her to
look at him. "You're the only thing that's real and true in
my life. I'd rather do anything than pull that trigger,
including walk in front of a bullet myself. You think I'm
fearless, but it's fear, pure and simple. I'm no hero,
Dana. But I'm not a killer either."

"I can't think, Walter. I need to think."

"I'm not rich. I'm not young. I can't give you what you
want most in this world. But I love you so much it hurts,
here." He drew her hand to his chest over his heart. She
opened her mouth to speak but could not find the words. He
kissed her palm then quietly left her. 

She sat on the bed and breathed deeply, reaching for
composure in the face of Skinner's astounding declaration.
Every word had cost him. She wondered if she'd ever really
known him, ever really wanted to know him. The brutally
competent face he presented to the world kept him going in
a thankless job. But inside he was as scarred and unsure as
the rest of them. 

She looked at her watch and made a final sweep of the
room. Adam would be waiting for her. 

***

She was quiet during the ride out to Long Island in the
sleek red sports car. "You're thinking of him, aren't you?"
he said evenly.

She sighed. "I'm sorry Adam. I never expected any of this.
Not him, not you..."

"Ah, but that's the beauty of life, isn't it? Never fear
the unexpected, Dana. Face it. Embrace it."

She smiled, feeling infinitely better. He had a way of
doing that, of lifting her up and elevating her spirit. She
looked at him and noted the way the corners of his gray
eyes crinkled when he smiled and the effortless way he
controlled the car. He radiated satisfaction and
contentment and she basked in his presence.

By the time they pulled up to the magnificent beach house
her mind was empty of everything but the pleasure she felt
in his company. He opened the door to the house for her and
followed her inside.

"It's Saturday and the servants are off for the weekend.
We'll have to make do. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," she said as he disappeared up the stairs
to find jeans and a sweater.

She gazed out at the horizon and he came up behind her and
circled her waist with his arms. "Watch the sky with me?"
he asked her, and she nodded. She pulled on his heavy cable-
knit sweater and followed him out to the deck.

He was reverent as he watched the ocean, sand, and sky.
"This is special to you, isn't it," she asked.

"Yes."

"Why?"

He pulled her closer and wished he could tell her, wished
she could understand if he did. "Chemist first, engineer
second," was all he said, and smiled.

They stayed like that until the sun set. He held her
protectively but not tightly, unconcerned that she'd range
so far that she'd never come back. She felt lightness with
him, and freedom to breathe.

"Dinner?" he asked, and pulled her up when she nodded. She
followed him into the kitchen and he sat her on a stool at
the big center island as he rummaged through the
refrigerator.

"Can I help?" She was secretly pleased when he shook his
head.

"A chemist's first laboratory is the kitchen," he said,
and she watched him assemble a remarkably appealing plate
of finger foods which he then carried into the living room.

He lit a fire and poured the wine, and they sat lay the
floor with the platter between them and watched the flames.
He delighted in feeding her tidbits of fruit, cheese, and
sea food. She laughed at his attentions and he basked in
her smile.

"How tied to the FBI are you?" he asked offhandedly.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, you are a doctor and a scientist. Surely the
rewards of research must be attractive to you."

"I love research," she said. "That's where I thought I'd
end up, working for some drug company. I really don't know
what drew me to the Bureau."

"Does it satisfy you?" he asked.

"Not the way it used to, no." She took a sip of wine and
lay on her side, watching his elegant profile. She pulled
the cluster of grapes from his hand and leaned over him,
offering him a single purple fruit.

"But you are a seeker of truth," he said and took the
grape from her fingers with his teeth, nipping her in the
process.

"Yes," she laughed, snatching her finger away. He grabbed
her hand and brought her palm to his face. "What do you
want, Adam?"

He turned his head slightly and looked at her through
lidded eyes. "Truly?"

"I really want to know," she said, and he pulled her head
down to rest on his chest. 

"A wife," he said quietly. "Someone who will accept me as
I am and stand by me no matter what. Someone to love me
without reservation. I will make her a queen, and she will
want for nothing."

"That's a seductive picture you paint," she murmured
softly. 

"Does it seduce you?" he asked softly, lifting her head in
his hands. 

"I barely know you, Adam."

"How long does it take to know when you've found the right
one?" he asked, searching her eyes for a sign.

"I'm the wrong person to ask," she said, sitting up. "I
have much less experience than you think."

He picked up a pomegranate and delved into the juicy
seeds. "That makes me happy, Dana."

He was speaking strangely, she thought, but she was so
comfortable with him. She felt as if she'd just passed some
sort of test. The fire was burning low and she poked at it. 

Suddenly he was behind her. "Come upstairs with me?" he
whispered as he nuzzled her hair, and he silently picked up
the wine and glasses and followed her up the pine staircase
into that remarkable bedroom.

The moon was even brighter this night and the glow gave
his features an unearthly cast. He saw her hesitation and
wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on
her delicate shoulder. "What's bothering you, Dana?"

She sighed. "This is all moving so fast. I'm not what you
think."

"And what is that?"

"Wife material," she said in a small voice.

"And why do you think that?" he said without a trace of
amusement.

She closed her eyes. "I can't have children." She waited
for him to let her go, waited for a chill to replace the
heat in his expression.

"Is that all?" he said, turning her head with his hand to
kiss her lips. His hand around her waist dropped to her
belly. "I can give you what you want."

"You don't understand," she said. "I'm infertile."

"I do understand," he said, and proceeded to remove her
clothes. His hands were magical, otherworldly. She felt the
moonlight burning her skin, amplifying sensation. She
turned to find him kicking away the last of his clothes.
"Come," he said with hand outstretched and she walked into
his arms. He stood holding her against him, staring up into
the moonlight, whispering an unknown prayer in an ancient
language. 

Everything that followed happened as if in a trance.
Trails of unbearable sensation followed every touch of his
hands. His kisses left her stuporous. He whispered words of
love to her, words she didn't know but that she
nevertheless understood. And once more he welcomed in the
sky and moon and they fused in an explosion of brilliant
blue light.

Adam Danzig, chemist first, engineer second, rocked
against the little redhead in his bed, filled with love for
the unconscious woman. He rolled off of her, sad yet
pleased that the force of his passion was too great for
her. He stroked her beautiful body and she stretched in her
dreams like a cat. He put his hand on her belly and smiled.
He wanted to see her happiness at his gift.

She woke the next morning with confused memories. The sun
was shining warmly upon her and once more she lay
comfortably in Danzig's arms. "Adam," she said, then more
forcefully. "ADAM!" He woke to her frantic voice and held
her close. "Shh, it's all right," he murmured into her hair.

She sat up and searched for her clothes. "No, it's not all
right!" He watched her dress with amusement. "What happened
here last night?"

"What do you think happened?"

She was angry now. "I think you drugged me, that's what. I
think you did something to me."

"I did not drug you," he said calmly. "I made love to you."

"Then why don't I remember? The last thing I remember is
telling you I couldn't have children," she said in a small
voice as she sat on the edge of the bed and fumbled with
her shoes. 

"You were wrong."

"Don't say that! Who do you think you are? You think you
can wave a magic wand and suddenly everything is perfect?"
She was fast losing her patience.

He knelt on the bed beside her. "I thought you would be
happy with my gift. I want you to be happy."

"Gift? What are you TALKING ABOUT? Adam, you're scaring me."

"It's Sunday. Have breakfast with me then I'll drive you
into town, to the pharmacy. You can pick up a test kit and
see for yourself."

She looked at him as if he were off his rocker. It was
absurd. Ridiculous. But now she had to know for sure. Just
to show him how crazy he was being.

Once more he produced a tray, this time of fruit and honey
and hot spiced cider. Scully was quiet as she ate but he
continued as if everything were quite normal. 

As promised he drove her into town, and could not keep the
grin off his face as she returned with the test kit. "It's
too soon for this to work," she muttered.

"No it isn't. You'll see."

She returned to the house and performed the test.
Positive. And again. Positive. And yet again. Something was
wrong, something she didn't understand. This was not
possible and she was frightened.

"Adam, take me to the train station. I want to leave. Now."

"Why aren't you pleased? It's what you've always wanted."
He looked at her with honest confusion in his eyes. "Why
are you upset?"

"This isn't right! Not only is it scientifically
impossible, it's wrong! You don't just have children on a
whim! You have children with someone you love."

"Then you don't love me."

"How can I love you? I barely know you!"

He wandered onto the deck and stared up at the sky,
speaking quietly to an imaginary audience in an unknown
language.

"Who are you talking to?" she asked quietly.

"It's not important."

"What language is that? I thought I heard you speaking it
last night."

He looked at her with a wistful smile. "It has no name.
It's never been written or recorded." 

"Who are you, Adam?"

"Chemist first, eng..."

"Engineer second, yes, I know. But what else?"

He sat beside her and took her hand. "I would have made
you a queen, Dana. I wanted to. I still do. But you won't
believe, even after I have shown you the truth." He touched
her belly lightly. "I have waited so long to find you."

"What do you mean?"

"If I told you, you would say I was crazy and leave
anyway. Your science has made you a skeptic. You live at
odds with the universe, not in concert with it. Science was
created as a tool of wonder. Open your heart and your mind
to the possibilities."

It was an extraordinarily revealing truth and she recoiled
at the depth of his insight. "I don't know if I can change."

"You can. You must." He stood and tucked his hands into
the pockets of his faded denim jeans. "Walter Skinner came
to see me yesterday morning. He was willing to enter into a
battle he knew he couldn't win for you. Love is precious,
Dana. Don't throw it away."

She was silent while she thought about what he said. "Can
I drive you back to the city?" he asked.

"No, just to the train station. I need the time to think."

"Of course." He held out his hand to her and she took it.
"May I kiss you one more time?" he asked, and she nodded
shyly. He threaded one hand through her hair and touched
his lips to hers so gently it was no more than a breath of
air. She never felt his other hand on her belly, taking
back the gift of love he'd given her. "We can go now."

The short drive to the station was a quiet one, and
thankfully the train was just pulling in. "Goodbye, Dana,"
he whispered, voice full to bursting with the pain of
separation and loss.

"Goodbye, Adam. I'll never forget you." She leaned over
once more and kissed his forehead, then she was gone.

***

Twilight was falling in the city when she unlocked the
door to Skinner's Soho loft. She didn't know if she'd find
him here but she wanted to be surrounded by a sense of him.
She dropped her bag and saw that indeed he had slept here.
The bed was rumpled and an empty glass stood beside the
bourbon bottle on the nightstand. She removed the items and
started to straighten the bed, then stopped. She looked
around and saw his suit bag was still hanging in the closet
and she smiled. She could wait.

It wasn't long before the sound of male voices and the
banging of the freight elevator grate roused her from her
doze on the overstuffed armchair. She remained there,
alert, as the two men entered the loft.

"I'm telling ya, she'll be back. It's always been you. You
can see it in her eyes when she looks at you."

"I don't know, Sam. Danzig is a slick operator."

The light flicked on and Sam jabbed Skinner in the ribs. 

"Hello, Sam. Walter," she said quietly. 

"Red," Sam said quietly, "good to see you." He turned to
Skinner. "Look, I'll be on my way. Stop by next time you're
in town. You too, Red." He turned quickly and left, and
Skinner didn't try to stop him.

She stood across the room, watching him. He didn't move,
didn't take off his long wool coat.

"I'm sorry, Walter. I was wrong."

"What happened?" He wanted to lash out with sarcasm,
bitterness, and anger, but he couldn't. Wouldn't. She was
here because she wanted to be. He didn't want to punish
her. He wanted to love her.

"I lost my way for a while," she said quietly. "I was
afraid of getting too close. Afraid that I'd lose myself in
you. I was wrong. Forgive me?"

He could only hold open his arms to her. She ran into him
so hard she nearly bowled him over, and buried her head
against his chest. "I thought I'd really lost you this
time," he whispered against her hair. "I didn't know what
to do." He held her away from him. "I asked Sam to keep an
eye on you." 

"I know," she said.

"You do?"

She smiled up at him. "Sam's a very poor liar when he
wants to be."

Skinner pulled her to him once more. "Danzig. Did he hurt
you?"

"No, not at all. But there is something strange about him.
I want to do a check when we get back."

"You'll do no such thing. He's a private citizen and he's
not under suspicion."

"He said you were willing to fight for me."

He took off his topcoat and laid it over the kitchen
counter. Danzig had everything to offer her. He had
nothing. Yet she chose him. "Why did you come back to me?" 

"I mistook freedom for caring."

He could not fault her for wanting something more, for
searching for the greener grass and reaching for the riper
fruit. She came to him and stood before him, eyes down. "I
need you to love me, Walter. I feel so alone."

His big, warm hands stroked her hair and lifted her head.
"I will never leave you, Dana. Never." And he lowered his
lips to capture hers and he was once more renewed as her
love swept over him. "This is so right," he murmured, and
lifted her into his arms and carried her to the rumpled bed.

He took extra care with her, loving her gently and
expertly, and he was rewarded with an intimacy that went
deeper than he could have imagined. He showed her his fears
and she touched the raw places that needed healing. He gave
her his dreams and she cherished them, and drew a mantle of
love over them both. When he entered her it was with tears
in his eyes, for he could no longer deny that she was the
source of all life to him. 

She closed her eyes and held his big body to hers as he
filled her. This was the way it was supposed to be, hot and
hard and sweaty and loving and tender and honest and earthy
and real. He was her one true mate. Not even the Gods
themselves could change that.

***

On a magnificent house on a bluff on the east end of Long
Island, Adam Danzig signed and posted a series of legal
documents he'd prepared years ago in anticipation of this
very moment. As he walked back from the mailbox he focused
his acute senses on the sky and sea, and the sand. He shed
his earthly clothes as he mounted the stairs to the bedroom
and closed the door behind him. It was cold, nearly
November, but he retracted the glass ceiling, welcoming the
rush of cold clear air that swirled around him. He climbed
onto center of the bed and stared up at the sparkling
crystalline heavens and the waxing moon. Tears clouded his
eyes as he thought about the redheaded woman. He would have
made her his wife, and the mother of his children. She
would have been the last. His queen for eternity. 

He smiled then, and let the wind dry his tears. What were
the years to him? He'd seen ten thousand pass and he'd see
ten thousand more. He would find another to cherish, one
who would accept his gifts and his love. He would wait. And
he would return. 

The time had come. The Titan once known as Hyperion,
chemist and engineer of the sun, moon, and sky, architect
of the known universe, raised his arms and once again
spread himself upon the cold ether wind.

To wait. 

______________

End.