- 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


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).

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
        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
        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
        "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
        "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
        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
        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
        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
        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
        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
        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

        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
        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
        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.

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
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

Offspring (Scully/Skinner, XF, mytharc novel, Piper Maru backstory) 
On The Outside (mini-novel, Offspring prequel, mytharc, Sam/other, Colony  
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)