"Snapshots 10:Disposal"
By Dawson E. Rambo

Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, and any other tangentially 
mentioned characters were created by Chris Carter, and remain the 
property of him, TenThirteen Productions, and Fox Television, a unit of 
20th Century Fox, Inc. All characters are used without permission, and 
no infringement is intended. Characters not previously copyrighted by 
Chris Carter, TenThirteen Productions and Fox Television remain the 
property of the author.

Classification: MSR,V
Rating: PG13 (Some material might not be suitable for children under 13)

Notes : This is the continuation of my ongoing story "Snapshots." As the 
title indicates, this was originally designed to be a vignette, but 
somewhere along the line it acquired a life of its' own and has been 
perpetuating inside my computer while I sleep. Darn fornits. (If you 
don't know what a fornit is, ask me...and if you do know, you also know 
what the heck I'm talking about.)

The Story Thus Far : Mulder and Scully have declared their love for each 
other, have made the beast with two backs, had serious snuggle bunnies a 
few time, and shared more than one incredible kiss. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------
	"So," Fox asked. "Which is it?"
	"I thought I made that clear, Mulder. I want you to come over 
tonight, but only if you want to come over. If you'd rather go home and 
watch the Knicks in that drab, dusty apartment of yours, I'll 
understand...I won't hold it against you, and I'll still love you in the 
morning."
	Mulder's wry grin twisted its' way though Scully's heart. "Yeah, 
but will you still respect me? That's what I want to know."
	"Mulder...who says I respect you now?"
	Mulder laughed, taking her into his arms. "OK...tell you what...if 
I'm not too tired after the Knicks get whupped by whoever they're 
playing tonight..."
	"Promises, promises," Scully teased. "I'll meet you there," she 
said, turning to go to her car.
	"Not so fast, Scully," he said, not letting her go. "There's one 
more thing..."
	She turned back. "What?"
	"It's..." He faltered, suddenly not sure that he wanted to tell 
her. It was nothing really, just a mental image that had crossed his 
mind during dinner, a little mind candy that had teased and tormented 
him for most of the meal. It wasn't even a fully-blown fantasy; nothing 
more than a mental snapshot, an image of Scully that intrigued him, 
aroused him. It was something that he wanted her to do for him, 
something he found incredibly sexy. And now...in the dim light of the 
parking lot, it seemed silly and adolescent.
	"What is it, Mulder?" 
	He leaned down in whispered it in her ear. She listened, a smile 
playing at her face. She brought a hand to her mouth, trying to hide her 
laugh. "Is that all?" She patted his chest, worming out of his grasp. "I 
think that can be arranged, Mulder. Tell you what...I think I might have 
one in my closet. Drive around a bit...see the sights...give me ten 
minutes, OK?"
	Mulder nodded, his throat suddenly dry.
	"It doesn't...bother you?" he asked. Scully's laugh was melodious. 
"Hardly, Mulder." She saw the serious expression on his face, the way 
his eyes searched hers, looking for...what?
	Hesitation. Repulsion. Rejection. Dana saw his fear of all of 
those emotions and more in Mulder's eyes. He's still so fragile, she 
thought. In so many ways...still a little boy.
	She stepped back into his arms, her face turned up to his. "Listen 
to me," she whispered, forcing him to lean down to hear her. "Don't take 
what I'm about to say the wrong way...but after seeing your magazine and 
video collection, I was prepared for fantasies that were a lot 
more...involved than this."
	"Scully-" he started to say. She shook her head, moving her 
fingers to his lips. "Shhhh, Mulder. You talk too much. Has anyone ever 
told you that?" He nodded through her fingers, his eyes still concerned.
	"Listen to me, Fox William Mulder. When...when I fell in love with 
you, I knew that you were a complex, complicated man. Truth be told, 
that's part of what attracted me to you in the first place. A 
complicated mind, filled with complex issues, some of them dark, some of 
them...not so dark. As your partner, your Bureau-issue sidekick, it's my 
job to go with you to those dark places, and shine the light of...oh, I 
don't know...reality? Is that the right word? To shine the light of 
reality into those dark corners with you. 
	"The monster you do know is always infinitely less horrible than 
the monster you don't, Mulder. In all this time we've been together, 
we've seen a lot of things...things most people wouldn't believe even if 
we showed them. We...know things that no person was ever meant to know. 
If doing this...little thing will banish the darkness for a few 
hours...or even just a few minutes...I'm all for it, Mulder. My job as 
your partner is to help find the truth." Her voice softened. "My job as 
your friend... as your lover, is to help you forget that those dark 
places even exist." She dropped her hand from his mouth. "Does that make 
sense, Mulder? Do you understand?"
	He simply nodded. "Yes...I understand." He sighed. "And...thank 
you."
	She stepped out of his arms, her fingers searching for her car key 
on the ring she carried. "Mulder...remember...one day I'll ask you to do 
something, and I want you to remember this conversation."
	Mulder blinked, and Scully had to laugh at his expression. "Oh, 
yes, Mulder... I have fantasies, too." Her eyebrows arched. "Fantasies 
that would probably shock you." She turned and walked to her car, 
sticking the key in the door lock and giving it a twist. She decided to 
play with his head just a little, and shot one last remark over her 
shoulder before she left. 
	Getting in the car, Scully cranked the window down as she started 
the engine. Mulder was still standing there, watching her.
	"Remind me to tell you about some of the fantasies I've had about 
you over the last year or so."
	Scully drove off, laughing, leaving Mulder standing in the parking 
lot with his chin resting practically on his chest.


	Mulder drove aimlessly, checking his watch every thirty seconds. 
Scully had given him ten minutes, and he'd decided to take twenty, if 
only to give her the time to change her mind. 
	Fantasies. Such a wicked thing, Mulder thought. As much as he 
loved her, Mulder still wasn't completely certain how to handle Scully 
sometimes. As close as they'd gotten as friends, they were still 
discovering each other as lovers, and that was always an emotional 
minefield. They had each brought so many expectations to the 
relationship. Their images of each other had been built over the weeks 
and months of time spent seeing and doing things that, just as Scully 
had said, no person should have to see and do.  And those experiences, 
as much as they had contributed to their bonding, to the depth and 
breadth of their relationship...just weren't enough. Enough to get 
inside her head in a way he had never been.	
	The problem, he thought, was that his impressions of Scully...or 
at least the majority of them, had been forged during moments of intense 
stress and pressure. He had no idea what she was like when she wasn't on 
the job, wasn't on a case, wasn't shooting down one of his theories or 
performing an autopsy.
	What does a sworn Federal officer, an alien-chasing forensic 
pathologist do in her spare time? My God, does she even have any 
hobbies? Does she play a musical instrument? Who's her favorite author? 
Her favorite poet? My God, what if she doesn't even have a favorite 
poet?
	Mulder shook his head to clear it and glanced at his watch again. 
It had been thirteen minutes.
	Time enough.


	Naked, Dana Scully rooted around in her closet, sure that she had 
seen it there not more than two days ago. God, after all she had said to 
Mulder in the parking lot, if she couldn't find it, she was going to 
look like a fool answering the door stark naked, because there was no 
way she was going to wear anything else and have Mulder think she'd 
changed her mind. 
	There. In the back...
	Scully grabbed it, backing out of the closet. She held it up to 
the light. It was wrinkled, but clean. She wondered if she had enough 
time to run an iron over it, but decided that perhaps it's obviously 
worn, lived-in look might add to its' appeal. Shrugging, she decided to 
go with the moment, and donned it quickly, studying herself in the full-
length mirror. Not too shabby, Dana, she thought.

	Mulder parked the car and got out, pocketing the keys. By now, the 
route to Dana's apartment was imprinted on his mind, and he made the 
trip without thinking about it, other issues, other thoughts whirling 
through his head, chief among them Dana's cryptic comment about her 
fantasies, and more importantly, her fantasies about him.
	Me. What on Earth could Dana have fantasized about me?
	

	Scully heard Mulder's footsteps as he approached the door. She'd 
had a few minutes after finding what she'd been looking for, and had 
made some preparations. She'd turned on the Knicks pregame, and had also 
poured two glasses of red wine. She was on the couch, by the end, near 
the light, reading an Amy Tan novel. She hoped that she presented the 
picture that Mulder'd had in his head when he'd asked her to do this. 
And if not, she'd know, and adjust until it did match.
	Looking down at herself, Dana thought that if she could say one 
thing about Mulder's mind... he did understand the basics. About how 
sometimes, even after her comments about monsters both known and 
unknown, that the element of mystery, of hiding just enough to be 
alluring was sometimes more sensual than outright nudity.
	Mulder's dress shirt fit her perfectly, she thought. It was a 
soft, blue oxford, a shirt that he had worn on a hundred days, worn 
smooth by contact against his skin. The thought that Mulder had worn 
this very shirt, that it had been snuggled against his body for days on 
end sent a delicious shiver up Scully's spine. Truth be told, Dana had 
been slightly apprehensive about the subject of Mulder's fantasies. She 
was more than well aware of his extensive collection of...erotica. That 
was the kind word for it, she knew. That first night, when he had 
unzipped her dress and it had started to fall towards the floor, Dana 
had had a sudden memory of the magazines she'd seen in his apartment, of 
the surgically enhanced visions of female perfection that had populated 
the slick, greasy pages, and had felt suddenly shy. Not exactly 
inadequate...but she didn't want...
	What? The comparison?
	No...not...exactly.
	She was saved from further contemplation of the topic by the sound 
of Mulder's key in the lock.

	Mulder pushed the door open and took a step inside. That was as 
far as he got. He saw Scully on the couch, wearing his shirt.
	Nothing but his shirt.
	He heard the Knicks pregame on the television. He saw the wine. He 
saw the way she was curled up on the couch , reading a book, obviously 
waiting for him to join her. "Hi honey," he teased. "I'm home."
	"Hard day at the office?" she teased back.
	"Yes...my partner is still sexually harassing me."
	Scully smirked. "Well, come over and tell me all about it, poor 
baby."
	Mulder snorted and slipped out of his jacket. He unclipped his 
holster and laid them both on a chair, moving to join Scully on the 
couch. She scooted over slightly to make room, and he collapsed into it 
gratefully.
	"Cool. The Knicks." He grabbed the remote, thumbing the volume up 
a notch or two. The opening tip-off had just occurred, and the Knicks 
were in the process of giving the ball away again when Dana reached for 
her wineglass.
	"Want some wine, Mulder?"
	He didn't respond, staring instead at the TV, slack-jawed with 
concentration.
	"Mulder?" she asked, a little more loudly.
	"Huh? What?" He saw her holding the glass. "Maybe later," he said, 
turning his attention back to the game.  Dana felt the small flare of 
annoyance, and quelled it. It was the Knicks, after all.

	About halfway through the first quarter, it began. Scully was deep 
inside her book, losing herself in Tan's lyrical prose, when she felt 
his hand on her leg, just above her ankle, lightly stroking her calf. It 
was mildly distracting, and Dana forced her concentration back to the 
book. His motions continued, his hand working slowly higher. His touch, 
his gentle caress was driving her to distraction.
	A commercial came on. 
	"What are we going to tell Frohicke?" Mulder suddenly asked.
	Dana closed the book with a snap! "What? We're not going to tell 
him anything! How could you even think-"
	"Well, I'm going to have to tell him something," Fox explained. 
"He's going to be suspicious if I don't have an explanation when I 
contribute to his...collection." Dana frowned, trying to decipher 
Mulder's meaning, and it suddenly dawned on her what Mulder was saying.
	"All of it?" she asked, secretly pleased and trying hard not to 
show it.
	"All of it," he confirmed.
	"Are you sure you want to do that?" she asked.
	Mulder nodded, his attention returning to the TV as the 
commercials vanished, replaced by the game. Dana bit back her 
frustration; she wanted to talk about this, to find out why Mulder 
wanted to give those things up, and also a little afraid of his answer. 
She didn't want him changing his life completely for her. She had fallen 
for him the way he was, dirty magazines and all. 
	"Mulder," she said, deciding to risk it.
	"What?" he asked, his voice distant.
	"Why?"
	"Why what?"
	"Why are you...giving that stuff to Frohicke?"
	Mulder turned to her, one eye still on the game. He smiled. 
"Because I don't need it anymore."
Dana reached over and grabbed the remote off the coffee table, muting 
the sound. Mulder looked like he was about to object, but saw the look 
on Scully's face and wisely decided to remain silent. "Don't worry, 
Mulder...it's not even half-time. The Knicks have plenty of time to lose 
this game."
	He smiled. "What's the matter, Scully?"
	"I want you to explain to me what the hell is going on, Mulder."
	He was silent for so long that Scully was sure he wasn't going to 
answer. Then he spoke. "I guess...I guess it might help you understand 
why I'm doing it...if you knew why I did it. I mean, why I buy...bought, 
I mean...why I bought that stuff."
	Dana put her book down on the coffee table. This was going to be 
interesting. "Go ahead, Mulder...I always did wonder why."
	She was prepared for just about anything, she thought. Confessions 
about being turned on by silicone-charged breasts and gym-tightened 
butts and hair so teased that it was almost tortured.
	Scully wasn't prepared for the truth.
	"I watch that stuff...because it's easy. There's no emotion 
attached, Scully. It's just two nameless, faceless strangers having sex 
up on the screen. It's so much easier to watch that...then all the other 
stuff on the tube. I need the TV to sleep...the noise lulls me, puts me 
under, lets me focus on that sound long enough to quiet the voices...the 
sounds in my head. I used to watch regular TV, and then cable... but 
every time I saw a couple kissing, or a happy marriage, or a mother and 
father with their kids, having a happy life, living every minute to the 
fullest...I'd feel this...tug, right here, right in the middle of my 
chest." Mulder tapped his shirt to make the point. "I would get so 
depressed, watching that, having to watch it or not getting any 
sleep...it just got to be too much, Scully. So...I got a tape. Like any 
habit...I started with one, and then, when that one didn't do anything 
for me anymore...when it got routine, I got another, and then another."
	He stopped, feeling the blush in his face, his cheeks, his ears. 
He couldn't look at her, he was so ashamed. He was staring at a spot on 
the wall when he felt her hand on his cheek, turning his head to face 
her. 
	"Look at me, Mulder." Slowly, he turned to face her.
	"I understand," she whispered. "I don't know what I thought...but 
I never thought that." She smiled softly at him, wanting to give him her 
strength with her eyes. He took it, gratefully.
	"Even if....." He started, and then was unable to finish the 
sentence. "No matter what happens, Scully...I'll never need that crap 
again. I've got new memories now..better memories."
	Scully leaned in slowly, her mouth twisting in her private 
MulderSmile. "I'm glad to hear that," she said softly, and then kissed 
him gently. Mulder took the kiss, his hands cupping her face. Dana 
sighed, feeling herself slip deeper inside him, feeling herself reaching 
out for Mulder and finding him there. Her arms went around his neck, 
pulling her towards him.
	Mulder's hands moved from her face to the buttons on her shirt. He 
undid them slowly, one at a time, never breaking the kiss. His hands 
slide inside the shirt, across her stomach, around her back, pulling her 
towards him this time. He went on his back, pulling Scully on top of 
him, one of his hands softly massaging her butt, the other stroking her 
back. His tongue traced her lips moistly, hotly.
	"Mmmmmmmmm," Dana moaned, feeling her arousal climbing. "What 
about the Knicks?" she asked.
	"Screw the Knicks," Mulder said.
	Scully moved away from him, standing and offering her hand. Mulder 
saw the way the shirt was draped on her body; he could see the sides of 
her breasts, the soft swell of them through the shirt.
	"I have a better idea," Scully said.
------------------------------------------------------------------------