========================================================================== NOTICE: - Deslea's URL is now http://www.deslea.com or http://fiction.deslea.com. - Email address is now deslea@deslea.com. - May be archived by Scully/Skinner specialty archives only. This information supercedes all other information found in this file. ========================================================================== Someone I Trusted VI: Interlude *NC17* 1/1 Deslea R. Judd drjudd@primus.com.au drjudd@catholic.org Copyright 1998 DISCLAIMER This work is based on The X Files, a creation of Chris Carter owned by him, Twentieth Century Fox, and Ten-Thirteen Productions. Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Kim Cooke, and Sharon Skinner remain the intellectual property of those parties and are used without their consent and without commercial gain. Susannah Skinner is my creation and may not be used elsewhere without my consent. Spoilers: One Breath, Blessing Way, Paper Clip, Piper Maru, Apocrypha, Avatar. Category: Story, Romance (Skinner/Scully). Rating: NC17 for sex. Summary: Sequel to Someone I Trusted I-V, in which Skinner and Scully holiday with his daughter. Mulder finds out about their affair. Fan mail is always appreciated!!! My e-mail is drjudd@primus.com.au and drjudd@catholic.org. Archivists, feel free to add this to your collections; but be sure to let me know. This and my other stories may be found at http://home.primus.com.au/drjudd (shameless plug). PREVIOUS TITLES: Someone I Trusted (The Blessing Way), in which Scully pulls a gun on Skinner...and surprises him Someone I Trusted II: The SSR File, in which Scully and Skinner discuss their coupling and try again Someone I Trusted III: Always, in which Scully and Skinner resume their affair and discuss children Someone I Trusted IV: The Apocryphal File, in which Scully decides to try for a baby, after all Someone I Trusted V: Sharon's Reprise, in which Skinner is torn between his past and his future Someone I Trusted VI: Interlude *NC17* 1/1 Deslea R. Judd drjudd@primus.com.au drjudd@catholic.org Copyright 1998 "I'm taking holidays, Mulder." Mulder looked up in surprise. "You?" he asked. "You never take time off." Scully shrugged. "Well, I am now. I need a rest. And I thought since Skinner is going on holidays, he won't be signing off on any significant X File cases, so I wouldn't miss anything." Mulder nodded slowly, one eyebrow raised. "I see." Mulder did see, and he had seen for a while, something which would no doubt have surprised Scully and Skinner immensely. He had known ever since Skinner had been accused of killing that prostitute. In retrospect, he should have known earlier. Scully being assigned to head something so mainstream and prestigious as the search for the man who had made an attempt on the life of the Assistant Director was just weird. After all, they weren't exactly the Director's favourite people, either of them. He had watched them closely since March, and he saw what he should have seen sooner: they oozed steam. It was a quiet, simmering sort of thing, but there was a definite heat there he was amazed, on seeing it, he hadn't noticed before. It had all started when he went over Skinner's impounded car, looking for evidence which might clear him of a subsequent attempt on his estranged wife's life. He had studied every inch of the vehicle, Scully at his side. He had automatically noted the two resident stickers on his windshield. He'd moved on, then stopped short. //Two?// Scully ignored him, her attention on the scraped bumper. He inspected the stickers again. One was blue and bore the Bethesda logo. That was okay; Skinner's house was in Bethesda. The other was purple, and read Annapolis S12. //Annapolis Section 12.// Annapolis Section 12 was only four streets in size, and included the street in which Scully lived. He knew that because he had tried to convince a friend who lived three blocks away from Scully to give him a resident sticker, so that he could stop getting booked whenever he spent a Saturday with her showing her his latest sci-fi video finds. His friend had quite reasonably suggested Mulder just park legally, since his parking sticker was for Section 13, not Section 12. But Skinner had a sticker. Why? Mulder knew Skinner had moved out of the house he had shared with Sharon in DC straight into the house in Bethesda. And if Skinner were seeing someone in the normal scheme of things Mulder should have found out about it in the course of the investigation into the prostitute's murder. Scully and Skinner? //Nah.// Although that might explain why she was so pissed about the prostitute. //Nah.// Just the same, he'd been suspicious enough that when Scully had lurched up, semi-conscious, to race after Skinner after his innocence had been revealed, he had wondered. And when Skinner had offered to drive her home so Mulder could get on with the investigation, he had wondered some more. In fact, he'd wondered enough to drive forty minutes out of his way to her apartment early the next morning "to see how she was." When Skinner had been there "just checking how she was," too, he'd stopped wondering - except to speculate how long it had been going on, and how much longer it would go on before she told him. Now, he realised, it was time. Kimberley had already let it slip that Skinner was going to Switzerland to see his daughter. If he was taking Scully along, then things were more serious than he had thought. He pointed to his chair, pacing nervously. "Take a seat, Scully. I want to talk to you." Scully looked at him quizzically, but complied. "What is it, Mulder?" Mulder passed a hand over his brow. "Look, Scully, this is none of my business, and I know you're under no obligation to discuss your private life, even with me. But I'm getting a little tired of the charade, and I'm sure you're tired of lying." Scully met his gaze steadily. "Indeed," she said noncomittally. He sat on the desk before her. "Scully, I know about you and Skinner. I've known for a while now. I just wish you hadn't felt you needed to hide it from me." Scully bowed her head for a long moment, then took his hands. "Mulder, things were rocky between Walter and I for a while, and I'm a pretty private person at the best of times. Both those things have something to do with why I never told you." "But they aren't the real reason," Mulder replied. "Are they?" Scully met his gaze for a long moment, hesitated, then shook her head. "No. The truth is, I didn't know how you'd take it. Whether you'd be angry or threatened or distrustful or - or jealous. I just didn't know. And I was afraid to find out." She gave a rueful, apologetic little shrug. Mulder gave a low laugh at that. "You're not afraid of //anything//, Scully." He grinned wryly. "Truth is, I'm jealous as all hell. But I'm fine." He leaned forward to kiss her forehead. She favoured him with a gentle smile, which turned to indulgent chagrin when he insisted, "Now, girl, you're going to give me details! Lots of hot juicy ones!" She laughed. She couldn't help it. "Not on your life, Mulder." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Have you ever done it on his desk? Man, I have got to do that sometime in my life." She shook her head. "It's overrated. It's cold and hard." Mulder feigned horror. "Scully, you //haven't//!" He considered a moment. "I //touch// that desk! Ewwwww!" He shook his fingers as though to rid them of some unknown contaminant. Scully rolled her eyes. "Are you proud of the fact you've not progressed beyond the age of twelve?" Mulder's laughter receded. "No, but seriously, Scully, what's he like?" Scully inclined her head slightly. "He's very strong and very dependable. And he's very giving." "You love him?" he asked tentatively. At her look, he added, "I won't crumple. I had thought...maybe we...but I'll live." "So did I once, Mulder," she admitted slowly. She could give him that much. "Yes, I love him." Mulder nodded slowly. "Are you going to Switzerland with him?" Scully nodded. "Yes. He wants to see how Susannah's going - you know, after Sharon. He wants me to meet her - //I// want to meet her." "She knows about you?" Mulder asked. "Yes. We've spoken on the telephone a few times. She's a nice kid." He looked at her with bemusement. "Things are pretty serious, aren't they?" Scully gave a shy smile. "Yeah...yeah, they are." Mulder asked diffidently, "Are you happy?" She smiled. It was a smile he had never seen before. "Immensely." "So Mulder knows?" Skinner asked, leaning back in his seat as far as the cramped legroom would allow. Scully nodded. "I wondered when that would happen. We really should have told him." Scully shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, we should," she shrugged. "But he's okay." She took a sip of the rather dreadful wine. It wasn't worth the price of their business-class tickets. "Not jealous?" he enquired, an eyebrow raised. Scully shifted again, this time self-consciously. "A little. But he doesn't seem heartbroken, just a little wistful. I think he'll be fine." They fell silent a while, Scully wondering just how true that was. She suspected Mulder cared far more than he was letting her know. But she also thought he would take this fairly well. Now, if she ever left the X Files, and him, that would be a different story. She was not so sure he would survive the return to the abyss of loneliness in which she had found him all those years ago. But that went both ways, really. She couldn't imagine ever leaving him. The idea of going back to a mainstream position made her cringe. Sometimes she would be in the cafeteria, listening to the Tom Coltons of the world rabbit on about their petty little industrial fraud cases, and she felt like screaming at them, //Don't you people realise there's more to life than this?// And the idea of being //partnered// with a Tom Colton...now //that// was a thought to shudder at. Mulder might be a bit like a puppy, alternating between despondency, clinginess, and hyperactivity, but you could love a puppy. She shook herself. She was on //holiday//, for goodness' sake! She had to stop thinking about work - and about Mulder. She was with her lover, and they were going to one of the most beautiful countries on earth to see a daughter she already knew was as special as Walter himself. Susannah Skinner had not had an easy life. She had been banished to Holy Trinity College in Zurich at the age of seven to free Sharon to pursue her career in Congress. Sharon herself had seen the girl just once a year, when she came home for Christmas. Walter had travelled to Zurich each year to visit the girl, but Sharon without fail elected to remain behind. Walter had learned French and German so he could converse with his daughter in her adopted languages; Sharon, who spoke German fluently, insisted on speaking to the girl in English. And when Susannah had been caught in a lesbian relationship by her dorm mistress the previous year, Walter had flown out to Switzerland within the week to comfort and help her. Sharon had refused to allow her to return to the States lest she cost her mother the family-values vote. Her mother's murder three months before had left Susannah with a heavy burden of anger and guilt which was rightfully Sharon's. When her father had told her about his new relationship, Susannah, now sixteen, had grasped the idea with desperate hope, as though Scully might be the source of stability and affection Sharon had so lacked. Scully hoped not to disappoint her. Skinner watched her out of the corner of his eye, his expression reflective. He wondered if he had ever loved Sharon the way he loved Scully, but he doubted it. He had a feeling this was the only woman there would ever be for him. If, God forbid, things went wrong for them, there could be others, he supposed; but none would ever capture him as she had. And that was why it had been important to bring her to meet his daughter. If he were truthful with himself, there was another reason, too. He and Scully were trying for a baby, and he needed to see for himself that she could be the mother he wanted for his next child. Deep down, he knew she had the necessary love and commitment; but his experience with Sharon, who had tried to abort their daughter and who had later been secretly sterilised, had made him very afraid to trust. He needed to see with his own eyes. Scully, suddenly aware of his scrutiny, looked up at him. Not by nature a sentimental personality, she was not prone to fits of romantic ardour. And yet when she looked at him, she felt her world spinning, and everything in it falling into an entirely new formation. He...//changed// her, somehow. "Penny for your thoughts," he said softly. Scully smiled faintly. "Not sure they're worth that much," she murmured. "I was just thinking about you...about us...Susannah...everything." She looked at him hopefully. "Everything's going to be okay with her, isn't it?" Skinner put her arm around her shoulders. "I hope so, Scully. "I hope so." "Gymnasium?" Scully queried as they walked through the main doors of the senior school at Holy Trinity College. "Secondary school goes to age fifteen here," Skinner explained. "After that it's college preparatory school - which is called gymnasium." He turned to the secretary and said a little laboriously, "Bonjour, madame. Je m'appelle Walter Skinner, et voici Dana Scully. Je suis pere de Susannah Skinner. Pouvons-nous la voir?" The older woman nodded. "Oui, monsieur. Je l'aurai envoyee vers le bas tout de suite." "Merci beacoup." Skinner turned to Scully, translating, "She'll have her sent down right away." Scully looked up at him. "I'm nervous all of a sudden, Walter." He laughed at that. "You'll be fine, Dana. She's a lovely girl." There was a clatter of footsteps coming down the stairs, and Scully turned towards the source. What she saw took her breath away. //Why, she's angelic!// Tall, with long, coffee-coloured hair and very smooth white features, Susannah was beautiful. She had almost Irish good looks and a sweetly curving mouth, and suddenly Scully saw what had drawn Skinner to her mother so many years before. She was smiling in spite of her nervousness. Susannah Skinner threw her arms around Walter. "Daddy," she cried affectionately. Pulling away, she took both of Scully's hands in hers. "And you're Dana?" Scully nodded silently. Susannah hugged her impetuously, and Scully held on to her for dear life. Suddenly, she knew everything was going to be all right. Holy Trinity College was an old, historically rich school in the old part of Zurich, on the Limmat River. It was here that Susannah led the two of them, showing them the sights with gusto. They followed her with amusement at her youthful exuberance, alongside growing exhaustion. At Rietburg Museum, they declared enough; and Susannah reluctantly consented to them sitting down for a long lunch. It was over lunch that Scully learned the most about this enigmatic creature. Susannah, after her humilating experience of being sprung with her lover, Ingrid, the previous year, had elected to remain at the school. She had been shunned by many of her classmates for a time, although their attitudes had thawed this year and she was once again popular. During her period of being persona non grata, she had thrown herself into her studies and discovered a great interest in criminology. She was considering studying at the University of Lausanne, but she also wanted to return to the States and live with her father, and maybe join the Bureau. Skinner paled a little at that prospect, but wisely didn't comment. Susannah missed Ingrid, who had been removed from the school after the incident by her parents, and they met for lunch from time to time; but other than that she had no significant friendships. She didn't clarify whether she and Ingrid were still involved, and Walter didn't ask. Scully asked nervously how she was coping since Sharon's death. Susannah, it transpired, was still fairly numb about the whole thing. She told Scully that she supposed it would hit her sooner or later; but it hadn't yet. It was while Susannah was discussing the possibility of returning home when she completed college preparatory school that the subject of Scully and Skinner's plans was raised. Walter took her hand, cutting her off mid-stream. "Susie," he said, "by the time you finish school, Dana and I will be living together." Susannah's face fell, and Scully realised before Skinner did that she had misunderstood. She thought Skinner meant she couldn't live with them. She spoke quickly. "Susannah, you're very welcome wherever we wind up living. When we buy, we will be buying with the expectation that you'll be in the picture. But you have a right to know what to expect before it comes to that." Susannah's face relaxed, and she smiled once more. "Well, as long as we're taking requests, I'd like a spa, sauna, and a full-sized pool, please," she said mischievously. Her laughter faded, but the good humour in her voice remained. "As long as we're on the subject, is there anything else I should expect?" Skinner glanced at Scully, then spoke. "Honey, we haven't really discussed marriage, but I suppose it will come, unless Dana has some preference for living in sin," he added with a grin. Susannah smiled in kind, but replied, "That's not what I meant, Daddy. I was really wondering whether there were kids on the horizon." Scully was taken aback. "Actually, Susannah, we have been thinking along those lines - but how did you know?" The teenager laughed. "I just guessed, Dana. You're both at an age where childless people start to think about babies, and you, Daddy, never had the chance to rear me, thanks to Mom. That's all." "And you don't mind?" Skinner asked cautiously. Susannah looked puzzled. "Of course not. Hell, I'll even babysit." She rose. "I think I'd like another drink. I'll be back." They watched her go, and Scully gave a sigh of relief. "That was easy," she said with surprise. Skinner gave a small smile. "I thought it would be, Scully. She's a great kid." Scully nodded slowly. "Yes, she is," she replied softly. He took her hands. "Scully, did you mean what you told Susannah - that you would welcome her in our home? That it would be her home if she wanted it?" She favoured him with a sweet smile. "Yes, I did, Walter. I always knew that loving you meant accepting your daughter. I knew it was a package deal going in. I know how Sharon hurt you both by keeping her away from you. I'm not about to do the same." A smile spread over his features, and he leaned forward to kiss her. Susannah cleared her throat. "Dad!" she reprimanded with the scandalised voice of the very young at the thought of their parents doing anything more daring than holding hands. Skinner eyed her with chagrin. "I don't comment on your love life, Daughter. Kindly return the favour." "But we're in //public//!" At this, Scully and Skinner struggled heroically against the laughter, but failed. Susannah watched them indignantly for a few moments, but their laughter was contagious, and she joined them. And it was neither the beautiful buildings nor the Limmat River which Scully would remember about that day, but the three of them laughing convulsively over latte at a grungy cafe. It was only late that night that she suddenly worked out why. They felt like a family. Scully stared out the window at the Zurichsee. The water was very blue tonight. It was summer here, and the temperature was mild, around fifty degrees. She felt very peaceful. She imagined she could hear the water rippling, though that couldn't be the case. She pulled her white silk wrap around her body, not because she was cold, but because it felt so good against her naked flesh. Walter had given her this before they left for Switzerland, and it was something so luxurious, so soft, so utterly arousing that she felt swept up in its caress. It was something she would never have contemplated buying for herself. //He// was behind her. He always touched deep within her and made something reach for him blindly, longingly. But every now and then, he would be there, neither touching her nor betraying his presence - and yet she would know, and he would take her breath away. And now, she knew, he was there, and he was watching her, and after a long, long moment, he would move forward and sweep her hair off her neck, and kiss it, his breath on her, his arms entwined around her waist...he would do it, he //would//; but he would make her wait, and as she waited her nipples would harden and she would become slick and ready, and she would shudder as she tried to suppress moans of longing, and how, //how// could he do this to her just by standing silently behind her? He watched her, mentally traced the fine, strong lines of her neck and her back, the feathery aura of moonlight on the periphery of her. The skin at her neck seemed silver in the dim light, and her hair seemed to be of copper set aflame. The robe fell in folds to the floor, its lines long and sleek from her shoulderblades down. What was it about her that she could stand there motionless, and he would feel his chest constrict with something like reverence, and know, //know// that if he didn't touch her, some part of him would die deep inside? He touched her. He reached out, and rested his hand on her shoulder. She stiffened, her breath coming in shallow whispers, then relaxed. He stood behind her, his body lightly touching hers. She leaned back against him, her body moulding to his, her face turned over her shoulder, towards him. Her moist lips, slightly parted, glistened in the moonlight. "Walter," she breathed. He leaned in to her, kissed her, his lips melding with hers; her palm cradling his cheek. With his finger on her chin, he guided her head to one side. She complied, drugged with desire. He ran his fingers through her hair, brushed it aside. He kissed behind her ear, running the tip of his tongue over its curves, and worked his way down to the nape of her neck, breathing her scent. He wound his arms around her waist, and she put her hands over his, linking fingers with him. She felt the throb in her belly beneath the firm weight of his palms. Dana shivered slightly, turning her body to face him. This time, when she kissed him, it was urgent, longing. She cupped his chin in her hands and drew him down to meet her, pressing her body against his. Her slim palms traced the smooth lines of his body, wondering as always at the strange contrast between the hardness of his muscles and the softness of his skin. She felt her body melding against his, matching him in her desire. She shuddered under his fingertips as they roamed over her body, dragging the silk over her curves. "Dana," he said, his eyes dark and pursuasive, "let's go to bed." They made it across their suite in a tangle of limbs and mouths, collapsing there with muffled laughter. But as Scully looked down at the man beneath her, this man she loved as no other, her laughter faded. As she straddled him, she gazed at him solemnly for a long moment, then spoke, piercingly. //"I love you, Walter."// "I love you too, Dana," Skinner told her softly. "No," she said, shaking her head, "I //really// love you." "And I really love you, too, Dana." His voice had not changed, but she knew he understood, and she kissed him gently, insistently. He sat up beneath her, bringing her with him. She clung to his shoulders as her mouth searched his, as she felt his hardness against her buttocks, and she moaned demandingly. He dragged off her robe, throwing it aside heedlessly. She sat there against him, bare flesh against flesh, but he barely noticed, caught up in the eclipse of her gaze. His hand behind her head, their gazes locked, he lowered her to the bed, his hips still clasped against hers by her legs. She moved against him, seeking him, seeking to be filled...to be whole. For had she ever been whole before him? Without thought or intent, he found her, entered her, their eyes still locked on one another. And as he began to move within her, he kissed her neck lightly, his lips barely touching her. She gave a low sound, just one; and then turned to face him. "Walter," she breathed. They held one another's gaze in the dim moonlight for a moment, and then her lips found his, her fingertips grazing the impossibly smooth skin of his cheek. His hands moulded themselves around her breasts, lightly caressing their pink tips. He slid one hand down over the delicate curve of her stomach, then her hip; the other cradling her head. She flung back her head into the pillows as his mouth found her throat, then the cleft between her breasts. He reached up to stroke her hair, her cheek, his eyes full of the wonder and the incredible love he felt for her; then he continued his descent. His hand between them, he stroked her stomach and the slight valley of her hips, his fingers brushing ever so slightly the pale auburn tendrils at their heart. He felt her palm on the back of his head, guiding him gently towards her. She opened her arms to him, and he sank down against her, his pace leisurely. He never felt a need to hurry with her, but took delight in slowly and thoroughly pleasing her. For long, long moments, there was only the sound of her laboured breathing; and then she gave the slightest sound of exquisite pleasure. She gave way to the shuddering waves passing through her body. And yet it was not her own pleasure which consumed her thoughts in that most dizzying of moments, but him. She kissed him deeper, her core finding his. And as he sank deeper and deeper into her, one of his hands on her hip, the other cradling her head against his, his fingers threaded through her hair; she felt, rather than heard him say her name. She broke the kiss, taking his face in her hands and gazing at him in sudden wonder. Once in a while, usually when they were together in this most intimate of ways, a certain something would come into his voice - perhaps a slight tremor; she wasn't sure - and she knew in those moments she was seeing him raw, exposed. It was like touching the infinite. She was never sure if he himself was aware of those moments, but she loved him for them. And because she knew no other way to express that wonder, she leaned forward to kiss him once more with a tenderness that knew no limits; and when he exploded inside her, they barely noticed, because that kiss seemed so much more important. And when it was over, and they lay in one another's arms, Dana knew she could never love anyone else this way, or this much. She felt truly blessed. "Scully, is that who I think it is?" Scully followed the finger Skinner pointed before them, then smiled indulgently. "Oh, for goodness' sake." She picked up speed, striding swiftly through the arrivals area. "Mulder," she chastised goodnaturedly. "How did you know which flight we were coming in on?" Mulder kissed her cheek, then shook Skinner's hand (which felt a bit silly after all they'd gone through together, but he wasn't going to throw his arms around the man, was he?). "Flashed my badge," he said simply. He glanced at Skinner's mock-accusatory glare and corrected, "I'm sorry, abused my statutory authority. Sir." Skinner stifled a snort of amusement. "If this is about an X File, Mulder, you can just forget it. We have three days of leave left." Mulder feigned hurt. "You accuse me of ulterior motives? When all I wanted to do was welcome back into the country my favourite friends?" "We're you're //only// friends, Mulder," Scully pointed out, not quite truthfully, but pretty close. Mulder glared at her, but went on, "Now, since you mention it, there //is// a little girl in Minnesota with strange powers I wanted to talk to you about-" Scully cut him off. "Go away til Monday, Mulder. I don't want to know." "But-" "No," Scully said firmly. "But she-" "No," Scully and Skinner said firmly. "Even if-" "No!" Scully and Skinner cried. Mulder opened his mouth to protest, but Skinner pre- empted him. "Mulder, if this waits til Monday, will anyone die?" "Uh - no," Mulder replied. "Will a government conspirator have time to escape your clutches?" "No, this isn't a conspiracy as far as I can tell, Sir," he admitted. "Will any evidence be destroyed or lost?" "I doubt it, Sir," Mulder said in a small voice. Skinner gave a smug grin. "Then - NO!" Mulder pouted silently, and the couple started to walk on. Scully turned back. "Well, aren't you coming?" "Where?" he asked hopefully, rather like an abandoned puppy who has found a gullible child to take him home. "Dinner, Mulder," Scully said patiently, "you don't think we're just leaving you here, do you? You'd be knocking on our door at 2am to tell us the British Airways pilot is really an alien flight engineer." His eyes lit up. "Don't even think it, Mulder," she added warningly. He gave a goofy chagrined smile, shrugged, and followed. Scully would kick herself for that remark two years later, when Mulder investigated a telepathic flight controller at the very same airport. But for now, they left together, and she knew that Mulder was going to be okay. COMING SOON: Someone I Trusted VII: Terma's Shadow, in which Scully answers Skinner's jealousy with a commitment Someone I Trusted VIII: Memento Mori, in which Scully and Skinner discover she cannot have children Someone I Trusted IX: Susannah, in which Susannah comforts her father and Scully Someone I Trusted X: Monkey Babies, in which Scully turns to "Mulder" for solace Someone I Trusted XI: Ground Zero, in which Skinner deals for Scully's life - and fertility Someone I Trusted XII: Redux, in which Scully turns on Skinner Someone I Trusted XIII: Tergiversate, in which Scully seeks Skinner's forgiveness Someone I Trusted XIV: Pendrell's Legacy, in which Mulder offers a solution BY THE SAME AUTHOR: Offspring (novel) On The Outside (long story, Offspring prequel) The Field Where My Love Died (vignette) The Field Where My Love Prevailed (vignette) Borderline (unfinished long story) Lyrics of the Heart (unfinished long story) Smokin' Maggie (unfinished long story, not yet available) Evolutions (unfinished novel, not yet available, Offspring sequel)