Title: Typing
Author: shawntaw
Spoiler: Born Again, Season One
Rating: R for two curse words I normally NEVER use and a sexual
situation, so kiddos SHOO!
Disclaimer: I don't know nuthin' about infringin' on no rights!
Note: Written for the Fandomonium Season of Smut (Season One)
Challenge, Episode: Born Again.

For other notes, see end of story.

Exclamation: Oh my! I wrote smut! My mother will be so proud!(I'm
serious!*L*) Feedback at shawntaw@h....


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Mulder was able to hold it together long enough to thank the shrink
and exit the office. He strode down the hallway and out to his car in
a daze.

Thorazine. They gave the little girl Thorazine.

His hand shook as he tried to unlock his car door. He weakly got in,
sat in the driver's seat and leaned over the steering wheel. Mulder
concentrated on regulating his breathing.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried desperately NOT to remember. He
hadn't even acknowledged it in years. A cold sweat broke out on his
upper lip and he swallowed his nausea.

********************************************************************************\


When his parents found him, he was screaming. His eyes stared at
nothing and yet the expression on his face was of supreme horror. The
EMTs arrived and tried to tend to him, but he wouldn't let anyone
touch him. He punched, bit, kicked and fought so fiercely that he had
to be sedated. His father's gun was found on the floor beside him,
fully loaded. One of the policemen on the scene commented that it was
lucky that the boy didn't think to fire it at any of them.

The last thing he heard was his mother sobbing his sister's name.

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*****************

Mulder shook his head, refusing to be sucked into that moment again -
the moment he could only piece together by other's accounts and his
own very sketchy memory. Even the regression hypnosis had not been
able to bring back all the details of the aftermath of Samantha's
abduction. As much as he strove for the truth in all things this both
bothered him and made sense to him.

He went through the rest of the day on automatic, making his report to
Scully and using his years of practice to hide his distress. He had
learned long ago that noone really cared and he certainly hadn't known
his partner long enough to burden her with his bizarre and tragic
childhood in all its twisted glory. She knew enough. She knew about
Samantha.

Mulder did what he did best to get his mind off his screwed up life.

He solved the case.

********************************************************************************\


Later she would look back on this incident as important. Years later
when she looked back on watershed moments in their relationship, she
would realize that this was when she learned something about Mulder
that he trusted very few people to know and not use against him.

It was the first time she was a witness to the nightmares that plagued
him.

Scully sat up in the darkness of her hotel room, unsure of what had
awoken her. She had a prickly, afraid feeling in her chest and a
surge of adrenaline caused her heart to pound. Trusting her
instincts, she slipped her hand to the nightstand and found her
weapon. She sat and listened again for whatever had caused her to go
from sleeping soundly to full alert so abruptly.

There is was again....a whimper..a cry?..from her partner's room. She
remembered how angry he seemed when the manager had given them
connecting rooms. The muscle in his jaw had twitched and she could
tell his teeth were clenched as the man behind the desk told him there
were no other rooms available. In the past, they'd never had rooms
next to one another. Scully had wondered at the time why it was an
issue at all...

She stealthily pushed back her covers, arose and padded barefoot in
her pajamas toward the connecting door. Her gun was aloft and ready in
her sweaty hands.

Scully only hoped the damn door wasn't locked. She reached out as she
got close and turned the knob. Locked.

She gritted her teeth in frustration. Was it worth breaking the door?
If he was just having a nightmare, shouldn't she just knock?

The soft whimpering from the other side of the door suddenly became a
shriek and the decision was made for her. Convinced her relatively
new partner was being attacked, she prayed that the door was old,
stepped back and gave it a good, firm kick.

It creaked but held. Mulder's screaming reached fever pitch as Scully
shouted through the door, "F.B.I.!!" and struck again. The door jam
split and the door opened, banging and bouncing from the wall on the
other side. Scully ran in, leading with her weapon and ready to fight
- only to find the room empty and filled only with the sounds of harsh
breathing.

She blinked, confused. "Mulder?" she said softly into the dim room.
The television played pay-per-view porn, but she barely took notice of
it as she scanned the room and tried to calm herself.

The bed had obviously been slept in. In fact the blankets and sheets
were disheveled and twisted and the pillows were askew. Scully turned
to go check in the bathroom when she heard a hiccup. She spun around,
aiming her weapon, only to be greeted with nothing.

Thinking for a moment, Scully stood still. Sure enough, another small
hiccup sounded, and now that she'd calmed her own breathing, she could
hear hitching sobs coming from the same direction.

Scully knelt down and peered under the bed. As she suspected, there
was Mulder.

He lay pressed between the floor and the bed. His head was turned
sideways, his hands on either side. His eyes were blinking slowly; his
face was tear-streaked. Mulder looked confused and panicked.

"Hi," Scully said gently, not knowing what else to say. She
hesitantly held out her hand, "Want some help out of there, Mulder?"

He looked at her for a moment and then started scooting himself out
from under the bed. Scully moved back as he freed himself from the
tight quarters and stood.

He wore grey boxer-briefs and his hair spiked up in all directions as
he ran his fingers through it.
Mulder hiccupped again and reached up to wipe his nose with the back
of his hand. He still had a fuzzy look in his eyes.

Scully frowned with concern and set her weapon on his nightstand.

"Here, sit here," Gently clasping his shoulders, she directed him to
the edge of the bed, "I'll be right back, o.k.?"

She didn't know what worried her more - the fact that he sat
obediently or the fact that he hadn't said a word. Scully hurried to
the small bathroom and flicked on the light. She left the door open
so she could see him and her hands shook as she hastily wet a
washcloth. Scully rushed back to him as fast as she could.

He sat staring at her blankly, his hiccups subsiding. She tipped his
chin up with her fingertips and proceeded to wipe his face. Mulder
closed his eyes. She then used the washcloth to thoroughly wipe the
back of his hand and his nose. He seemed to her to be in some sort of
state between sleep and awake. Scully wondered if he would remember
any of this come morning.

Setting the washcloth aside, she tugged on his hand until he stood,
pulled down the covers and straightened the pillows. "Lay down now,"
she said softly and he climbed in, allowing her to cover him warmly.

Scully leaned over him, "Try to sleep, o.k.? The door will be open, if
you need me." She had no idea what else to do. He didn't seem to be
in any danger. Surely it was just a bad nightmare.

But she couldn't shake the sight of his luminous hazel eyes following
her as she retrieved her sidearm and left the room.

********************************************************************************\


Scully was warm. She was cuddly-warm in a way she hadn't been in a while.

*Why is it that men are such heaters?* she thought hazily and stuffed
her feet behind her underneath a pair of lean, furry calves. Her
whole back was encased in heat and a soft breath hummed against the
top of her head. Scully turned and breathed in the sleep-warm smell
of the man curled around her as she nuzzled his chest.

Scully frowned. As she approached wakefulness, she gasped and
scrambled upright and away, falling off the bed with a thump as she did.

Aghast, she rose to her knees and looked into her bed. It was Mulder
alright. Surprisingly, her antics had not awoken him. He lay so
peacefully, his arm still outstretched from where it had been around her.

Her partner had crawled into bed with her.

She took a moment to think about this. He obviously didn't realize
what he was doing. She stared at him as he slept. He truly was
beautiful - she had realized this the moment she walked into the
basement. He had become more beautiful to her the longer she knew him
though.

He was complex. He was flawed. Brilliant. Passionate. Sensitive to a
fault. And he was willing to stand up for what he believed, regardless
of the consequences.

Mulder suddenly snored loudly, shaking her from her reverie. Scully
smiled. And he was fast securing a place in her heart. She HAD said
her door was open. Scully laughed and glanced over at the connecting
door. That door had no choice but to be open; she'd have to pay for
that out of her own pocket, she was sure. Anyway, back to the matter
at hand - she thought looking back at Mulder's peaceful, sleeping face
- she trusted him.

Wondering whether or not she was doing the right thing, she crawled
back into bed beside him. She turned and tucked herself back up
against him. He sighed in his sleep, tightened his grip around her
and snuffled into her hair.

She again told herself the situation was totally innocent. He
obviously needed comfort and she didn't mind providing it.

*I trust him* she told herself as she drifted into sleep, trying not
to think about how much she felt comforted by his presence as well.

********************************************************************************\


Mulder woke with long,red hair in his mouth, nose and eyes. Coughing
and sputtering, he sat up and looked over the shoulder of the woman
lying next to him.

"Scully?!" he gasped and she sleepily turned her body so that she
peered up at him.

"What?" she asked as she looked up at him through slitted eyes.

"What?? Why are you in my-" he broke off as he looked around and began
to realize that it was the wrong question," I mean, why am I in YOUR bed?"

Scully sat up and looked at him. "You don't remember last night?"

She watched him blush and realized what he must think he didn't remember.

"Calm down, Mulder" she said, blushing herself, "You had a nightmare."

He looked down at his bare chest and then over at her, sitting there
tossled and in blue p.j.s.

"A nightmare? What kind of nightmare?"

Scully scratched her head and stretched. "I don't know. You were
screaming and I thought you were being attacked. I kicked in the
connecting door and found you under your bed."

Scully paused, "You scared the crap out of me, Mulder. You don't
remember?"

He stared at her for a moment and then shook his head, "No, I don't.
But I usually don't."

She frowned,"Usually?"

He closed his eyes and fell back against the pillows. He could feel
her intense gaze on him.

"I told you about Samantha," he began. He felt her lay back as the
bed shifted and he opened his eyes again, turning to look at her. She
lay beside him on her side, head propped up on one hand in a pose very
reminiscent of their first case together in the very plausible state
of Oregon.

She nodded, urging him on - a serious look on her face.

"Well, there's a little more to it than that..."

********************************************************************************\


Originally, it had been assumed that he'd done something to his
sister. That he'd murdered her, or was hiding her in some way.
Others thought that perhaps the girl had run away. Maybe she was
abducted by some sicko, others allowed.

None of it mattered to the preteen boy that had been found screaming
hysterically alone in his house, sprawled on the floor next to his
father's gun.

After he'd been sedated - even after the sedation had worn off -
Mulder wouldn't speak. He wouldn't eat. He stared into space,
rocking. The only time he responded at all was when his mother
visited. She would hold him and coo comforting words to him and he
would sob inconsolably. His father never visited his son in the
"place," as his mother called it.

For weeks, noone could get any real response from Mulder. Then he
started hurting himself. His mother was mortified to get a call
telling her that her twelve year old son was being put in restraints
because he wouldn't stop banging his head on the floor. What noone
knew was that one of the orderlies was of the conviction that Mulder
had indeed killed Samantha and hidden the body somewhere. He had been
taunting the boy incessantly, calling him a murderer and telling him
that everyone knew what he'd done. He had almost convinced Mulder
that he'd actually killed his sister and that is why Mulder tried to
end his own life.

Mulder told the truth about his messed up childhood to Scully in the
tone of voice he used to make most of his reports to Skinner - very
removed, very matter-of-fact. He did not see that Scully's eyes were
wide with disbelief. He did not see the moisture gathering in them.

He told his story to his partner - a person who had earned his deepest
trust - and did not look at her. Mulder stared at the ceiling of the
small motel room and continued talking.

As he had lain in bed - restrained and spoon-fed - he contemplated not
his own demise as time went by, but revenge. He had decided to live.
And he had decided to start exacting justice. Yes, this is what he
would do with his life.

The first clear memory he had after his sister's abduction was his
conscious decision to fool the orderly into thinking he was too weak
to be concerned with so that the man would unbuckle him from the bed
when he meekly begged to be allowed to go the restroom instead of
using the bedpan.

The man had been so stunned at speech coming from the young boy, that
he'd given in to the request. This was an uncharacteristic act of
mercy the orderly would live to regret.

Mulder had to be pulled off the man by several nurses and a doctor as
he tried to choke the life out of the orderly.

That was when they had ordered the thorazine.

It made him zombie-like. He obeyed whatever people told him to do,
only in slow-motion. Then had come the facial tics and twitching.
Mulder remembered this time as being trapped within himself, afraid
and alone. Weeks and weeks went by.

Finally, his mother came and took him out. She sat by his bed night
after night as he sweated out the effects of the experience he'd been
through. He woke up one night and he could hear his parents fighting,
but he couldn't hear what about.

Mulder awoke in the middle of the next night to see his father's
sillouette in his bedroom doorway. He just stood there holding a
bourbon glass - staring.

The next day his father had moved out. His mother's pill popping
reached epic proportions. She was too wrapped up in her own problems
to trouble herself with Mulder's anymore.

He'd had intense nightmares every since. Mostly about Samantha's
abduction and the aftermath.

Mulder looked over at Scully and saw the shock on her face. Now his
partner would know how truly 'spooky' he was.

She'd leave. Just like the rest.

For a moment there was such a deep silence in the room that he
wondered if she could hear his frightened heartbeat.

"I had no idea," she said, reaching out her hand to touch his face,
"I-I'm so sorry-"

Her hand felt like fire and he jerked his cheek away, rolled himself
over and threw his legs over the side of the bed.

"I don't need pity," he said sharply, "I just wanted you to know the
truth, o.k.?"

She watched his back muscles contract as he pushed himself to
standing. He was worried that this knowledge had somehow compromised
her respect for him or had weakened him in her eyes somehow. She
could hear it as surely as if he'd said it.

"Why do people say that?" She said softly, "I've always thought that
was so stupid."

Mulder turned confused and with a frown on his face, "What?"

She sat upright then, a growing look of anger on her face.

"Why do people say 'I don't want your pity'? What if I tell you
whether you want it or not, you have it? Why is that so horrible?"

His frown melted and she watched his face become totally impassive and
bland. He wasn't fooling her. She has learned that he looked like
this when he protecting himself from being hurt.

"You're saying you pity me? Great," he deadpanned and started to walk
away toward his room.

Scully slammed her palm against the bed, "Yes! I do! I feel sorry that
your sister was taken from you, Mulder! I feel sorry that it hurt you
so badly! I feel sorry that you had to go through that and that your
parents treated you like crap!"

He turned to watch her as she ranted, an almost frightened look in his
eyes.

"And I feel sorry for you, Mulder!!" Scully scooted off the bed and
strode close up to him until she was looking up, up, up into his soft,
confused eyes.

"After all we've been though together in this past year or so, I care
about you!" She poked him in the chest with her index finger, "And I
reserve the right to feel sorry that people treated you shitty when
you were just a scared kid!"

For a moment she wondered if she'd gone too far, but she couldn't help
it. She was breathing heavily - outraged - and he was just staring at
her as if she'd sprouted a second head.

Then Scully did something impulsive. She reached up and grabbed him
and wrapped her arms around him in a bear hug. After a slight
hesitation, she felt his arms encircle her and then he squeezed back.

"I am sorry for you, Mulder," she whispered into his neck. She felt
goosebumps break out across his skin and she rubbed her palms on his back.

"I-I guess I appreciate it then," he said brokenly into her hair.

They pulled away from one another slowly. She looked up at him and
saw it. He was staring at her mouth, thinking of kissing her.

Before she could stop herself, she licked her lips. He leaned
closer...closer...suddenly she wondered if she had morning breath and
hoped that she didn't and tried not to exhale and then...

He kissed her.

It was soft and tenative at first, but when she sighed against his
lips he seemed emboldened and pulled her suddenly tightly against him.
She opened her mouth slightly to taste that bottom lip that she'd
watched for so long and he took advantage, tasting her as well.

They were scooting haphazardly toward the bed, Scully shuffling
backwards blindly as Mulder feasted on her mouth and rained kisses on
her face..her neck...

"You are something else, you know that Dana Scully?" she heard him
mumble into her skin, "Unshakeable."

"That's me," she muttered back directly into his ear and then sucked
on the lobe, "The Unshakeable Dana Scully."

He groaned and then laughed at her words breathlessly. He suddenly
pulled away, looked at her for a moment and then - with a loopy grin
on his face - picked her up and threw her bodily onto the bed.

She gasped in surprise and before she could move or react, he was
framing her body with his own - his forearms on either side of her
head, his calves on either side of her body. He toyed with her red
hair and hovered over her, contemplating her. In fact, he stared for
so long he made her nervous.

"Its ok if I'm not your type, Mulder," she whispered up to him, "You
don't have to-"

His interrupted her with a fiery kiss that left her mind scrambled.
When he pulled away, his eyes were twin green sparks of flame. "My
type?" he huskily whispered, "You mean, beautiful, intelligent, witty,
kick-ass tough and compassionate isn't my type?"

Scully knew her face and neck were probably bright red, but all she
could do was swallow. His legs moved and after a moment she could
feel his hips cradled against hers. Mulder's weight pressed her into
the bed deliciously. His head dipped and he was softly trailing kisses
down the neckline of her pajamas. "Maybe I'm not your type, Scully,"
he whispered hotly against her skin, "Maybe you feel sorry enough for
my past that you're too scared to hurt me."

She felt her eyes flutter shut as he began unbuttoning her top at a
painfully slow pace. He was waiting for confirmation, she knew. He
needed to know that she wanted him as a man. That she still respected
his strength. That she didn't think of him as soft and weak.

"My type?," she heard herself echoing without conscious thought, "You
mean, genius, talented, passionate, tall, dark, spooky and handsome
isn't my type?"

His breath puffed against her cleavage in amusement. He continued
unbuttoning her top, but she felt his hand shake. Mulder had been
truly afraid of her rejection of him.

"Scully?"

"Hmm?"

"I think we're gonna have to reschedule our flight home."

His warm lips touched down on her stomach and she quivered.

Scully opened her eyes and looked at him. He was looking back at her,
his eyes the color of fall leaves. She smiled..

"Partner, you read my mind."

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Note Note: The flight thing works. I can't remember whether or not
they were far enough away during this case for a flight, but it just
works. Go with it. ;P

Ok, for me that's smut. *Looking over my shoulder and making sure my
kids aren't reading* Hope you enjoyed it! Woohoo! *fanning self* *L*

Annoyingly enough...Note Note NOTE: My husband read this and said it
would frustrate people where it ended and that it wasn't smut because
I didn't say 'nipple.' There I said it; this is officially smut. *LOL*

Ok, send me feedback at shawntaw@hotmail. Be nice or I'm sending you
to your room!;)