========================================================================== 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 VII: Terma's Shadow *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, Smoking Man, Pendrell, 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, Tunguska, Terma, Memento Mori. Category: Story, Romance (Skinner/Scully). Rating: NC17 for sex. Summary: Sequel to Someone I Trusted I-VI, in which Scully answers Skinner's jealousy with a commitment. Includes alternate Terma scenes. 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, in which Skinner and Scully holiday with his daughter. Mulder finds out about their affair. Someone I Trusted VII: Terma's Shadow *NC17* 1/1 Deslea R. Judd drjudd@primus.com.au drjudd@catholic.org Copyright 1998 Scully looked up as her cell door swung open, unsurprised when Skinner was admitted by the marshall. She rose. As the door was shut behind him, Skinner watched her for a long moment, a low sigh escaping his lips. "Holding up?" he asked gruffly. She gave a wry little smile, motioning to the stack of Benita Charne Sayre's books on the small desk they allowed her. She was considered a political prisoner of sorts in here, and she had been allowed an unusual level of creature comforts by the marshalls, who had some admiration for her stand. "I've got plenty to read." Skinner sat down on her bed, and Scully followed suit. Warily, he began, "I can understand you protecting Agent Mulder-" Scully cut him off. "It's not just Agent Mulder I am protecting, Walter." "Then what are you doing?" he demanded in a quietly powerful voice. Loving Dana Scully was rapidly becoming a full-time job. They had been together now for over a year, and most of the time it was idyllic. They rarely argued, knowing as they did that either of them could be killed in the line of duty at any time. But during that time, she and Mulder had come far closer to their opponents than ever before, and the danger factor had quadrupled. Now, she sat in prison on an open-ended incarceration order issued by a Congressional panel. She had refused to reveal the whereabouts of her errant partner, Mulder. And about the only good thing about the situation was that she wasn't in the field with him. Now, she spoke, her voice filled with quiet dignity, and his heart ached. In another life she might have been a nun, or a missionary, or a United Nations peace negotiator. In this one, she was a woman of principle and substance, prevented from living her God-given calling, her gifts, by a faceless government who would imprison her for protecting a man from itself. It was a senseless waste. "We were called before this committee to answer questions about a murder; about an intercepted diplomatic pouch, a pouch which was to be delivered to a prominent doctor - a woman who is now dead, as is the man who was delivering said pouch, the contents of which have infected an exobiologist with a paralysing toxin. But - what are we stuck on here?" she demanded. "The whereabouts of Agent Mulder." "You mean it's the wrong question," Skinner said slowly, realisation beginning to dawn. Dana looked at her hands. "Several of the men on this committee are lawyers." She met his gaze once more, sympathising with his growing disillusion and loving him for it. For how many men could see what he had seen and still try to see the good? "It is my experience that lawyers only ask the wrong question when they don't want the right answer." Skinner's brow furrowed as the gravity of the danger started to sink in. "Unless," he said, grasping at straws, "Mulder has already found the answer they're looking for," he said hopefully. "Or someone wants to make sure he doesn't find them," Scully countered gently. "These are Congressmen we're talking about, Dana," he said slowly, reluctantly. "Some of them were Sharon's colleagues." "I know that, Walter," she said quietly. "And it is my natural inclination to believe that they are acting in the best interests of the truth. But I am not inclined to follow my own judgement in this case." He watched her, trying to quell the unworthy jealousy in his heart. "So you're going to follow Agent Mulder's, is that it?" he demanded. Silently, she looked away. Finally, she spoke. "What's this about, Walter?" He shook his head, sighing deeply. "It's about your priorities. And Susannah and me and this child we're planning seem to get lower and lower in the pecking order the deeper into this you become. We've been trying to make a baby for over a year now, and still nothing." She stared at him. "Are you accusing me of using birth control?" she asked with a quavering voice, dismayed. Hurriedly, Skinner shook his head. "No, of course not." He held her gaze with great concern etched into the lines of his face. "But I fear that the incredible stress you're putting yourself under has a lot to do with why it hasn't happened. Something is going to have to give, and I don't want it to be our future." Her voice was quiet, but firm. "We've been through this, Walter. I'm not quitting field work." "I'm not asking you to. I //wouldn't// ask you to. But-" he broke off. "But?" she echoed. "Sometimes I get scared." Dana was silent for a long moment, before admitting quietly, "So do I, Walter. For both of us - you know you're in just as much danger as Mulder and I. We've all crossed that - that man too many times." She didn't elaborate, but Walter knew who she meant. She meant the man who smoked all the time - the one Mulder called Cancerman. He was but one player in the group who had the Bureau under its thumb, he was sure of it; but he was the one player they all had to deal with. The man made Walter's blood run cold, it was true; but for Dana, it went deeper than that. For Dana, Cancerman was the symbol which brought together of all the things that truly shook her faith in the system: her own abductions, her sister's murder, and the murders of Mulder's father and Walter's wife. Whereas for Walter, Cancerman increased his determination and his commitment to his work; for Dana and Mulder, he increased their depression and decreased their hope. For them, too, it was a source of resolve; but it was a far more bitter one. Walter had been in the game long enough to recognise it as such. It was real and it was dangerous and they were playing for keeps; but it was a game. It wasn't about personalities and it wasn't about personal agendas. It was about conflicting ideologies. But Mulder and Dana were young - not that much younger than he, but young enough to still take it personally. And in light of what it had cost them, perhaps that was understandable. He had lost Sharon, and that had hit him terribly, terribly hard; but still, he had not lost as they had. Dana went on. "But that's not a reason to walk away. What we do is too important. If we turned our backs on this, we'd be consenting to the things these people are doing. We know too much to walk away with our integrity intact." Walter put an arm around her shoulders. "I know that, Dana," he murmured. "It's just that sometimes I need you to remind me. You make me strong, but you also remind me of what's on the line here." He paused, smiled ruefully. "I love you." Scully bowed her head, her face hot with shame at the pain she had caused him. "Don't," she whispered, "I can't." She pulled away from him and shifted to the far end of the bed. Skinner went after her, suddenly angry. He pulled her roughly against him, and kissed her hard, his mouth plundering hers. There was no tenderness, no finesse, just a primal devouring. His hot breath against her was musky...intoxicating. She responded for a moment, her mouth opening beneath his; her sudden, gasping moan inflaming him; then pulled away in shock. "Walter," she whispered, as afronted as she was aroused. "Did you miss that last night?" he demanded in a low, harsh voice. His hand, neither rough nor tender, but merely firm, stroked the side of her neck, ran down the vee neckline of her blouse. Slowly, she nodded. "Yes," she whispered, shuddering slightly as his hand stroked down over the smooth fabric of her jacket, moulding, cupping her breast, his fingers pressing into her; then down, down, over her belly and her hips. She gasped with dismay as he unfastened the buttons and pulled it open, and slid his hand beneath her thin blouse. "Walter," she said, her eyes on the little window in the door, visibly upset, "not here." He ignored her, his hand firmly cupping her breast through her bra. He took her nipple between his soft fingers and rotated it. It hardened, pushing painfully against the restrictive lace. She felt a bolt of pure fire between her thighs, as though by an electrical current, felt her center grow moist and hungry for him. She gasped with reluctant desire, her pupils dark and wide, and his cock grew tight and hard. "And this," he said hoarsely, "did you miss this?" Her dismay gave way to bewilderment. He was trying to tell her something, but she had no idea what it was. "Yes," she repeated in a whisper. "I did." And, God, she had; she had rested on her stomach, her fingers inside herself, stretching her, filling her, and she had imagined his arms around her, his kiss upon her, his hands loving her, his cock inside her, but it hadn't been enough; she had needed him, his scent, his tenderness, his hardness, his moisture, she had needed him to thrust into her, to kiss her, to hold her and make her his as she had always been. And she had wept with desolation that it could not be so. And now, marshall or no, window or no, she wanted him so damn bad. He swept his hands down, down over her skirt, then under it, and up her bare legs. Teasing, tingling sensations radiated down her legs, up to her core. She gave a low sob of frustrated impatience, bearing down, trying to push herself against him. With a clinical control that was fast slipping, he slid his hands into her panties, over her firm round buttocks, then down to her warmth. He caressed the little hard nub he found there, rotated it slowly, tugged on it gently, and she gave a high exclamation which became a low, keening moan. She was slick and wet for him, and he slid a finger a little way inside her, gently pressed that spot within her that turned her limbs to water. As she slumped against him, he breathed, "And this, Dana; did you miss this?" "Yes," she moaned, "yes." He pulled his hand away, ignoring her indignant cry, and clasped her head with both hands, his fingers threading through her hair. With sudden emotion, he gazed down at her, his eyes burning into her, and demanded, "Did you miss me buried deep inside you, Dana? Did you miss knowing I was part of you, and that I'd never leave? Did you miss me worhipping you, loving you, making you know you are the //only// woman I will ever love? Did you feel you were only half alive because I wasn't with you?" Drunk with desire, with confusion, with memory, she was shaking. "Ye-" the word caught in her throat. "Yes," her lips formed soundlessly. His hold on her relaxed. Suddenly gentle, he told her sadly, "That's what I feel every time, Dana. Every time you do something like this, I fear we will never have that again. That they'll take you, or kill you, or you'll infect yourself with whatever toxin you're investigating, or that you'll just disappear and I'll never know what happened to you. And it's not that I couldn't touch you that would hurt so much. It's that I would have all this love in my heart for you, and it would have nowhere to go, and I would explode." She was fighting back tears. "Don't," she whispered, her body shaking. "You're making me grieve for something I haven't lost." She took his pain-ravaged face between her hands and lowered it to her breast, cradling it. She kissed his smooth head, sudden hot tears spilling on him. He came up, kissed her lips again, this time with great tenderness, his tongue not invading this time, but caressing. He kissed her cheeks, her salty tears in his mouth, her lips on his neck, nibbling, kneading. "Dana, oh, Dana, you feel so good," he moaned mindlessly into her hair. And then he kissed her once more, her mouth sweet like wine, her scent intoxicating, her soft mouth moaning his name against him. He kissed her a kiss for all time, a kiss for all the Danas he had ever known - the woman he loved, the agent he tore his hair out over, the doctor he admired, the markswoman he feared, the scientist he sat in awe of, the lover he worshipped, the wife he would cherish. It was a kiss for all the years of Dana, and it took her breath away. Still shaking with ardour, she gazed at him in the cell, the lines of her sleek and elegant like a mare, her cheeks flushed with sudden, uncontrolled desire. She leaned back on the bed, pulling him down above her. Suddenly sane, he protested, "But - the marshall - I thought-" She ran a finger over his lips, silencing him. Involuntarily, he parted them, sucking on her slowly, and the blood ran stright to his groin all over again. "I don't care," she said breathlessly. She ran her fingers down over his neck teasingly, and he tensed, his breath caught in. "Make love to me, Walter." He didn't argue. He shrugged off his jacket, and leaned down to unbutton her blouse. She writhed against him, impatient, her skin suddenly feeling very cold without him against her. Still kissing her, his breath coming in shallow whispers, he parted the folds and unhooked her bra. Her pink hard nipples sprang up from their confinement to meet him. He kneaded the little pink tips with his fingers, brushed them with his palms, and she shuddered. She was unfastening his shirt, and as he lowered his head to take her softly swelling breast into his mouth, she arched her back, sensation rushing through her body like fire in her veins. "Oh - oh -" she breathed incoherently, her lips on his neck, under his open shirt on his shoulder, his smooth muscles there a caress against her mouth. He raised his head, kissed the delicate little indentation at the base of her neck, the area under her chin she exposed as she arched it with a ragged sigh, her skin alive with sensation. Frantically, she moved to kiss him once more, her parted lips teasing his tongue, her hands sliding over his smooth chest, flicking his nipples with her soft fingertips. She ran her palms over his lean stomach, then up his sides, smiling under his mouth as he shivered, his cock jerking against her through his trousers. She slid them around his waist, then over his firm buttocks, teasing the cleft there. She was gratified by the tense shudder he gave in response. Jolted into action, he pushed up her skirt and pulled her panties off her with one fluid movement. She laughed at the impatient action, then gave a sudden cry at his hands on her, one teasing her hardened tip, barely touching it, the other sliding fingers inside her. He broke their kiss, leaning down to kiss her at her core, and her good humour, her smile, became jerking sounds of racing need. Suddenly the void there, the ache in her stomach was acute; and she cried out with sudden longing, the fire in her veins turning to solid ice, her body tensed, her limbs stiff, needing release. "Now, Walter," she gasped, "I can't wait. Please-" He complied, coming up to meet her lips with his, her fingers working down his zip, releasing him, caressing him for a moment, her legs entwined around his hips, pulling her to him convulsively. She kissed him, her own sweet taste on their lips, and something warm and hard and smooth nudged against her. She felt her soft core embrace him, draw him in, allow him passage. His cock seared into her, her body closing around his heat, holding him within her. And then he was thrusting into her, pulling her tighter against him, their legs entwined, their bodies revelling in their shared warmth. Her body was hard and strong like iron, meeting him thrust for thrust, craving more, more, craving release. And then it came. Suddenly, she felt the ice in her veins dissipate like bubbles, flowing through her shivering, tingling body, starting at her core and spreading out. Her tense, hardened body turned to water as the adrenaline raced through her, leaving her light-headed and giddy, her eyes dark and bottomless. And still she thrusted to meet him, clinging to his shoulders, loving him, needing him, kissing him, his hardness joining them, making her whole. She favoured him with a sweet smile, and he kissed her forehead with a low chuckle. Her shudders tapered off, then rose again just as quickly as he speeded up, his own need racing. She felt her body go ice cold, then white hot as sensations too strong to bear flooded her. He came, the incredible heat leaving him, a gentle warmth remaining as he filled her. And as he filled her, as her own body shook feverishly, then came to rest, the warmth had given her filled her body. Helplessly, she leaned against him. They slumped together, their kisses gentle, him straightening her skirt and fastening the buttons of her blouse with the tenderness of a parent, lest the marshall check on them. She did the same for him, leaving the top button of his shirt undone, chastely kissing his neck. Their sounds and sighs made a sweetly erratic melody. For a long time, they lay there on her cramped little prison cot in silence. Neither of them commented when Dana put a pillow beneath her buttocks and lay with her legs folded above her, but his brow furrowed, wondering not for the first time when they would be forced to accept the fact that they had a problem. //Well over a year of actively trying...she should be pregnant by now.// But then...maybe it was stress. And maybe they had missed a few opportunities when she had been away in the field. Pushing the worrying thought of her lack of a pregnancy aside, he spoke. "I telephoned Susannah and told her what happened." His seventeen year old daughter was in boarding school in Switzerland. She leaned her head against his neck, breathing his warm, musky scent. "What did she say?" she wondered aloud. He smiled faintly. "She said, 'Wow, Daddy, you must be really proud of her. When I join the Bureau, that's the kind of partner //I// want to be.'" Scully was pleasantly surprised. "Really?" she asked, with shy pride. Skinner nodded. "Yes. And I hope I don't have to tell you, I //am// proud of you, Scully. Very much." She coloured. "That means a lot to me, Walter." Wordlessly, he kissed her, and they stayed that way for a long time. It was two days later that the Congressional hearings reconvened. Skinner shot Mulder a baleful glare. He hadn't been there for the first fifteen minutes, having been paged urgently by David Pendrell, who told him that the biologist at NASA had been killed, the rock from the diplomatic pouch stolen. Returning to give Dana the news, he had been floored to see Mulder sitting behind her, cocky and self-satisfied, with the obligatory battle scar on his face. Longtime friend or not, Skinner wanted to drag the younger man up by his lapels and shout at him, "God damn you, why do you always leave her to clean up your messes?" Clenching his fists, he sighed with relief when a recess was called. Scully leapt up, and he began to rise, thinking she would embrace him because of her release. But Mulder stood up in front of him, and she went into his arms, breathed, "Mulder." "It's so good to put my arms around you - both of them," Mulder added. Skinner watched, rooted to the spot, haunted by a horrible sense of desolation. //It's like watching the sun come out, and suddenly you can't see the moon//, he mourned silently. //It's Mulder she loves. It's always been Mulder.// Scully pulled away from him, asked, "When did you get back here?" Mulder began, "It's been a long, strange trip-" Skinner cut him off, his fury barely contained. "Some other time. I think there's been enough strangeness here to sort through." //And most of it your doing, asshole.// Scully was oblivious. "Mulder, I've made several connections about this toxin, about what it might be." Her face was alive, animated by the prospect of being back in the field. Back in the field with //him//. "So have I," Mulder replied, still not acknowledging him. Scully turned to face him. //Now she talks to me, now that she needs me,// Skinner thought with bitterness. "Sir, I need your permission to book two airfares to Boca Raton, Florida." //Sir. She called me Sir//, he thought inconsequentially. "It shouldn't take more than twelve, fifteen hours. But in the event that it does, I need you to stall the committee tomorrow, for the purpose of-" He cut her off. "If you explain it to me, Agent Scully, I'm going to have to explain it to them. I suggest you do everything in your power to make it back here in time for tomorrow's session." He glanced from her to Mulder, and his miserable anger flared once more. "Or I can't help you." Ignoring Scully's stunned look of betrayal, he stormed out. As it turned out, Scully returned in good time for the session the following day, and she studiously ignored him throughout. Skinner, who had had time to simmer down, didn't really blame her. But when she moved to leave alone at the end of the day, he raced after her. Oblivious, she hurried to her car, gently holding a tissue to her nose as it bled slightly. She'd had a few nosebleeds lately. They were starting to annoy her. Shrugging, she put the soiled tissue in a bin outside the elevator and withdrew her keys. He caught up with her at her car. "Going my way?" he asked breathlessly. She turned away from him, biting down on her lip miserably. For long, excruciating moments, she was silent, but finally, she looked up. "You want to come home with me?" she asked. He gave a little shrug. "Crystal City doesn't seem so appealing in the light of anguish cubed." She gave him a curious look, and he shook his head. "Nothing. Can we go?" "All right," she said in a tight little voice. "But wouldn't it be better to follow in your own car?" "I came by cab. Mine's in the shop." Shrugging slightly, Scully opened the passenger door, watching him get in with malicious amusement. Morris Minis were made for diminutive little redheads, not tall solid ADs. Laughing softly for the first time in days, she walked around the car, got in, and drove off. "So," Scully said evenly, handing him his cup. "What was that I-can't-help-you stuff about yesterday?" She paused, watching him through the steam rising idly from her tea. "You really hurt me," she whispered finally. "Scully-" Skinner began, then broke off, the worry and anguish of the previous week finally catching up with him. After a long moment, he spoke. "Dana, when Mulder came back and you looked at him, your face glowed. I felt as though he were all that existed for you." His jaw was tight, and the cords in his neck flickered with barely suppressed pain. "I'm sorry I hurt you - truly, Scully, I am. I was jealous. All of a sudden I realised you weren't mine...that maybe you never had been." Something about the desolation in his voice made her blood run cold. The bruised, ravaged look she saw in the lines of his face made her gasp, made her put down her cup, take his from him, and bring his head down to rest against her breast. She held him comfortingly, said gently, "Oh, Walter, Mulder means a great deal to me. But I //love// you. Mulder is like my child - I want to look after him and protect him and nurture him, and save him from his demons. You - you're my other half, my love. You love who I really am, not who you want me to be. And the reason I was so overjoyed to see him was that I knew it meant I could come home to you." She kissed his head tenderly. "Please, Walter, have no doubts. I don't." He pulled back and looked at her. "Really?" he asked tentatively. She smiled at him tenderly, nodded. "Really. And I can prove it." Skinner's look was bewildered. "I don't understand." Scully rose, and went to her bedroom. Returning, she put a small velvet-covered box in his hand. "I was saving this for Christmas, Walter. But I think the time is right." He frowned with confusion. "Open it," she said. Still frowning, he complied. And then he gasped. //Inside was a white gold men's wedding band.// Speechless, he lifted it out, inspecting it. With celtic markings on the outside and an inscription on the inside, it was beautiful. The inscription read, //Someone I trusted...love always, Scully//. He looked at her, his eyebrow raising in query. She smiled. "Scully was how you knew me when you fell in love with me, yes?" Wordlessly, he nodded. "You can guess the rest, can't you?" Slowly, he spoke. "At first, we were afraid to trust one another." She nodded her agreement. "And yet, despite all the odds, we did." She smiled. And then, to his surprise, she got down on her knees before him, and took his hands. "Walter, I love you. I trust you. I want us to be a family, you and I, and Susannah, too. And when I ask you to marry me, I'm not asking to stand at your side in a frilly dress in front of our friends. I am asking to stand at your side for the rest of our lives." He drew away one of his hands and put it over his mouth, struggling against great emotion. He was remembering when he had proposed to Sharon, and how frightened he had been, and how devastatingly difficult it had been to offer himself over to her. And his eyes clouded over at the gift she had given him by asking him, a gift only someone who has proposed to another can understand. Wordlessly, he nodded, his hands clasping hers. He drew her up, and handed the ring to her, his hand outstretched. "I want to wear it now," he whispered. "You don't mind?" She shook her head, taking his large, gentle hand in hers. She slid the ring onto his finger, bent her head, and kissed his palm. "Walter, you're the only man for me, always. Please never doubt that." Unable to speak, he pulled her up onto the lounge with him, her kiss hot and moist. They went to her bedroom, their lovemaking a celebration, and then they slept. And as they drifted off to sleep, oblivious to the spot of blood beneath her nose, he believed nothing could marr his joy. He was wrong. COMING SOON: 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 (Scully/Skinner, XF, mytharc novel, Piper Maru backstory) On The Outside (mini-novel, Offspring prequel, mytharc, Sam/other, Colony backstory) One Endless Night (Skinner/Scully, some mytharc Colony to Emily) The Field Where My Love Died (TFWID vignette, implied MSR) The Field Where My Love Prevailed (TFWID vignette, implied MSR) Someone I Trusted (Series) (Scully/Skinner, follows mytharc) A Soul, Unbound (Emily vignette, missing scene, Scullyangst) A Teletubby X File (Humour, story, XF/Teletubbies crossover) Why Did The Chicken Cross The Road? An XF Primer (Humour) Borderline (unfinished mini-novel, MSR, some Sc/Sk) Lyrics of the Heart (unfinished mini-novel, MSR, characters die, lotsa karaoke) Smokin' Maggie (unfinished mini-novel, mytharc, MSR, not yet available) Evolutions (unfinished novel, not yet available, Offspring sequel, mytharc, Sk/Sc, Samantha, Redux backstory)