TITLE: Honey From the Hive 1/1  
AUTHOR: Holly L. Benton 
EMAIL: hbenton@ix.netcom.com
DISTRIBUTION: Archive anywhere, everywhere, as long as my name and
e-mail addy go, too
SPOILERS: X-Files: Fight the Future
RATING: G
CONTENT WARNING: A smidge of romance between M/S
CLASSIFICATION: S, H, Mulder/Scully R (just a hint) 

SUMMARY: After a little interaction with The Lone Gunmen, Mulder has
something to say to Scully...  

Disclaimer: All characters within are the property of Chris Carter, 1013
and Fox. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is not
written for profit.

Author's Notes: This is my very first X-Files fan fiction, and tho I was
hesitant about posting it, I had to give it a try. After seeing the
movie and reading others' fic, I wanted to do something a bit different,
without restating the obvious or covering old ground. And still stay
true to what I believe is the essence of the show. It's short, but fun.
:-) I'd love to know what you think of it - please send me some feedback
at hbenton@ix.netcom.com.

*****
Honey From the Hive
by Holly L. Benton



"Mulder?"

"Hmm." Mulder's still-sleeping consciousness wrapped itself around his
name, associated the word with a place and a voice, and prompted his
response. "Scully..."

"Mulder!" A sharp shot to the shoulder woke him with a jolt. Mulder
flailed with both hands to regain his precarious balance as he jerked
upright on the three-legged stool. He squinted into Frohike's face. 
"Must've been some dream," Frohike smirked, adding, "I've had a few
about the luscious Agent Scully myself."

"Shut up, Frohike," Mulder ordered irritably, blinking sleep from his
eyes. He wiped a hand over his face, trying to shake loose the cobwebs.
"What time is it?"

"Just past midnight," Byers pitched in from across the counter, his face
lit with the blue glow from the computer screen. "I think we've found
what you were looking for."

Mulder lurched off the stool and moved his head from side to side,
producing a satisfying pop at the base of his skull. Sighing, he rounded
the counter, still feeling the effects of the abuse his body took in
Antarctica. "About time," he grumbled, tugging his gray sweatshirt down
over the waist of faded jeans. 

"Check it out," Byers told Mulder, gesturing to the screen. Mulder moved
in closer, to take a look at the mass of information displayed there.
"NATO's database contains records of a huge unidentified flying object
moving slowly across Australia. This object was nearly one mile in
diameter. It gained altitude and climbed out of Earth's atmosphere in a
matter of minutes."

"Whoa," Langly commented, succinctly. Mulder pursed his lips and gave
Langly a look which caused Langly to shrug his shoulders. 

"There were hundreds of sightings of a massive circular object in the
skies over Australia, but nothing confirmed. Their government released a
statement blaming weather anomalies." Byers clicked rapidly through the
data. He looked up at Mulder. "Looks like it wasn't a delusion brought
on by exposure."

"Not this time, anyway," Mulder agreed. His face reflected no emotion,
but his eyes were alight with triumph. 

Frohike cleared his throat. "How is Agent Scully, anyway?" he asked.

Mulder answered, "Fine. No worse for the wear." He seemed unaware of the
pleased expression which was creeping across his face. 

The Gunmen exchanged glances. "Uh-huh," Langly said knowingly. "Listen,
Mulder. We can get copies of all this stuff for you by tomorrow. Go
home."

"Unless you'd prefer to sleep here on the counter," Frohike offered.
"But I'm sure you have a more comfortable place to sleep."

"No doubt," Mulder answered, grabbing his jacket. "I'll be back tomorrow
to get that," he said, pointing at the computer monitor as Langly undid
the numerous locks on the door. "Thanks." He moved through the door,
which Langly quickly shut and bolted securely. He turned to face the
others.

"You were right. They're doing it," he said. Byers nodded in agreement. 

Frohike extended his empty palm. "Pay up, losers."

*****

Dana Scully tucked her bare feet beneath her and pulled the afghan up
over her legs as she readjusted the book in her lap. After a few more
fruitless minutes attempting to concentrate on the printed words, she
gave up, laying the book aside and reaching for the TV remote. She was
bored, restless, ready to return to work. Now that the hearings were
done with and the X-Files reopened, there was only the question of where
their office would be located. Once she and Mulder found a spot, it
would be back to business as usual - such as it was. She felt stronger,
mentally and physically, than she had in months.

A soft tap at the door interrupted her reverie. She kicked the blanket
off and rose from the couch to pad to the door, pressing her palms flat
against it to balance herself as she peered through the peephole.
Smiling, she tied her pale green silk robe shut before opening the door
to Mulder.

"Hey, Scully. Is it too late?"

"Do you ever pay anybody a visit in the daytime, Mulder?" she asked,
eyes twinkling.

Mulder ignored the question and gestured at the TV behind her. "Watching
anything good?"

"Nothing up to your usual standards, I'm afraid," she commented dryly.
He flashed a smile at her as she stepped aside to let him in. As she
locked the door behind him, he removed his jacket and threw it onto a
chair. "Make yourself at home," she said, with that same soft sarcasm. 

"How're you feeling?" he asked, his eyes roving her face, searching for
the now-faded signs of her ordeal.

"I'm fine," she answered automatically.

Mulder extended his hand, then a single finger, and stroked the front of
her throat gently. "Throat still sore?" he asked softly, dropping his
hand.

Scully swallowed hard, feeling her skin tingle where he had touched her.
Their eyes met and locked. "A little," she conceded, feeling the tension
between them like strings, pulling back and forth, making her sway where
she stood. "But it's much better."

"Good, good," Mulder answered, eyes still fixed on hers. 

There was a moment of silence, electric in its intensity, before Scully
looked down at the ground. "Can I get you something? Some tea, maybe,
or-"

"Tea would be great, thanks." As Scully turned toward the kitchen,
Mulder suddenly caught her arm in his strong grasp. "Wait. I...I didn't
come here for tea, Scully."

"Really?" she answered, suppressing a smile. 

He nodded at the understanding in her eyes. His hand traveled from her
upper arm, past her elbow, down to where his fingers curled around hers,
feather-light. "I came to thank you."

"What for?" she asked, genuinely surprised.

"Never giving up on me." Mulder clutched her hand tighter as he
explained, "Even when I made it patently impossible for you to support
me, when I kept things from you, when you couldn't support my theories,
you never gave up. I told you that you saved me. It's truer than you
know."

Scully was touched by the simplicity of the confession. "I didn't have
to believe what you believed, Mulder. I believed in you. Your passion
for the truth has led us here. Without it, we both might be dead. So in
a way, you saved me, too," she said, remembering his words to her on the
fateful night she had tried to back away, believing herself to be an
obstacle in his path.

"It almost killed you." His words were blunt, and his voice wavered, as
he conjured up the image of her face, eyes frozen over in terror,
staring out from what could have been her tomb. 

"Yes, but here we are," Scully said gently. They stared at one another,
neither sure what else to say. Scully squeezed Mulder's hand, then
released it and slipped her arms around his waist. He caught her up in a
tight embrace, hugging her fiercely. She closed her eyes, grateful to be
with him, grateful that their relationship was going to survive whatever
awkwardness came before.

Suddenly, she felt him tugging at the back of her robe, and his warm
hand slipped inside the neck of her nightgown, smoothing across her bare
skin, reaching down. Startled, she raised her face to his. "What are you
doing, Mulder?" she asked, perplexed.

He grinned at her. "Looking for bees," he answered, chuckling. She
laughed quietly, just as his lips descended on hers in an impatient
kiss, sweet as honey. 

END