Title: Pardonner et Oublier
Author: Starbuck
Feedback: Yes please. Starbuck70@aol.com
Rating: R (for whoopie making)
Category: VRHA
Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance
Spoilers: season 8 to Existence
Timeline: Post Existence AU.
Disclaimer: Yeah, it was *my* idea to have Mulder get abducted by aliens, die, come back to life, act like an ass to Scully, and then disappear... right.
Archive: Yes please. But let me know if you're going to stick it somewhere random or kinky. ;)

Summary: Angry Scully, male bonding, and make-up sex. Woohoo!

Notes: This is my first attempt at anything with a rating higher than PG-13. Please let me know how I did. I've been a little nervous about this. :) (more notes at the end)


Scully is pissed off. Very pissed off. At me.

This is not good.

She slams the door behind her and moves to hang up her jacket and set her purse down by the door. I keep a few steps back from her; every time I get too close she shoots me the look of death.

This is not my fault though, it's really not. I shouldn't be expected to control my emotions when someone harasses her. That rat bastard had it coming to him. He got what he deserved, he really did. I glance over at her again. She is trying to maintain calm as she relieves her mother of babysitting duties and sees her to the door. Mrs. Scully waves goodbye to me and I wave back. Scully shoots me an icy glare that does not go unnoticed by her mom. Maggie Scully looks at me questioningly and I just shrug, not wanting to piss off Scully any more tonight.

I like to think that deep down inside, she's really quivering with lust and pride because I decked out the guy who dared to come near her with that look in his eye. You know the look I'm talking about. It's the one that says "Ooooh, baby, I'm gonna give it to you whether you like it or not." It was sick. I'd *like* to think that she's secretly happy... but I'm not all that optimistic at this particular moment. Especially since I already have a bruise forming where she punched me in the arm. I'm a little protective. So sue me.

"Scully..." I start.

"No, Mulder. No." She raises a hand to ward off any other comment, but I begin to speak anyway.

"I just didn't want-"

"Mulder," she cuts me off and turns to face me, speaking very slowly and firmly. It's her 'I mean business' voice. "I do not want to talk to you about this right now. I'm going to sleep." She jabs her finger in the direction of the bedroom. "You stay out here." She nods her head in the direction of the couch.

"On the *couch*?!?" She has to be kidding! I look at her face incredulously... no, she is definitely not kidding.

"On the couch, Mulder. I will talk to you tomorrow." She walks towards the open bedroom doorway.

"But-" I begin to protest, but my words are quickly cut off by the slamming of the bedroom door. All I was going to say was that I wanted to some pajamas... and maybe beg her for forgiveness a little bit more. The slam of the door woke the baby, though, and I don't get to finish my objection. William's startled wail tears at my heart and I head to his room, realizing that Scully is not going to emerge from the bedroom again tonight.

Inside, William has rolled onto his side and is trying (rather unsuccessfully) to pull himself to a sitting position using the bars of his crib. He is crying, but his sobs begin to dissipate when he sees me come into the room.

"Hey, Buddy." I say softly. He whimpers and I move to pick him up from his little crib. I rock him until he calms and begins to drift off again, but when I move to put him back into the crib, he starts to cry. "Alright, alright. How 'bout men's night on the couch, huh? You wanna watch a little Leno?" He snuggles against my chest and slaps my shoulder with his pudgy little hand. "I'll take that as a yes." I say, smiling.

Out in the living room, I prop William up against some pillows long enough to strip off my jeans and sweater along with my shoes and socks. Once that's done, I sit down next to him in my boxers and t-shirt as he flops over and drags himself to my lap. He hasn't quite mastered the art of crawling yet. I reach down for the remote and click on the TV while trying to balance William on my lap with the other hand.

"Not bad, huh?" I comment. "I should join the circus. Your mom would *love* that." He babbles something incoherently and reaches for the remote in my hand. "You up for channel surfing? Sure, you can pick." I say as I let him take the object from me. He immediately moves to stick it in his mouth and I have to pull it away from him, causing him to whine again. "No no no. Rule number one of men's night: no chewing on electronic devices." I flip to a late night talk show and set the now damp remote back onto the coffee table. "It's okay though. We can find something else to chew on." I suddenly realize that I really would like something, and stand up, holding William against my chest as we move into the kitchen.

"How 'bout some Doritos?" I ask as I flip open the cabinets and begin rummaging inside one-handedly. "Or maybe some cookies?" I look down at him hopefully but he is staring up at me blankly, his fist shoved into his mouth. "Both sound pretty good to me." He makes a humming sound around his fist and little bits of drool slide down his arm. Mmm, lovely. "And I think a napkin sounds good for you."

We bring the junk food back into the living room... well, I bring the food, William grabs at the brightly colored bags as we walk, desperate to shove them into his mouth too, I'm sure. When we sit down again on the couch, Leno or Letterman or one of those guys is cracking a joke about some politician or another. I couldn't care less. I head for the cookies first.

"Hey, hey. You wanna try some cookie?" I ask, as I let William pull a cookie from the bag. He shoves it into his toothless mouth and begins sucking on it. This time I don't stop him. Scully has been letting him suck on solid foods lately, so I figure it couldn't do too much harm. She thinks he's got a tooth coming in. Of course, she'd probably kill me if she knew he was gnawing on Chips Ahoy with his little gums. But she isn't here right now. And we men only eat junk food on men's night. I decide that this is rule number two. William makes a sort of "mmmmm" sound as he attempts to eat the cookie and I notice the chocolate-cookie drool that is now escaping down his chin. Good thing I brought the napkins over.

**

Every now and then, Mulder does something that really pisses me off. Tonight was one of those nights. True, I may have overreacted a little bit- I've never actually made him sleep on the couch before- but it really felt justified at the time. I can hear him now, talking to William over the low drone of the television. I decide that I won't leave him out there all night. His offense wasn't quite that infuriating. After all, this is Mulder we're talking about. It could have been a hell of a lot worse.

It's just that I'm an F.B.I. Agent for Pete's sake. I can take care of myself. Especially with some half-drunken horn-dog in a sleazy bar. It was Mulder's idea to go to the damned bar anyway; I told him I wasn't a bar person. Okay, I was a little bit miffed at the guy for trying to grab my ass and using such a grotesque line. How did he word it again? Something about his lollipop needing to be unwrapped? Anyway, he deserved an ass-kicking, I just wish it could have been from *me*. I guess I ended up taking all my ass- kicking desires out on Mulder. I hope he's not too upset about it.

I sigh as I finish dressing for bed and slip beneath the covers with my book. I think I just need a little time to cool off before I'm ready to go out there and relieve Mulder of his couch-torture. He'll probably do that pouty thing, and I'd prefer to kiss the look off his face, rather than slap it off. That pout is really only cute when you're in the right mood.

I open up my book and lay the slightly wrinkled bookmark on the nightstand beside the bed. William got a hold of it one day when I was foolishly trying to relax a little bit and shoved it directly into his mouth; it took a bit of wrestling to get it away from him, but it remained mostly intact. I like the bookmark, it's cute. It has a picture of Garfield holding a book in one hand and looking stoically at the camera while his thought bubble boasts "Anyone who doesn't like reading needs to be dragged out into the street and shot." Mulder gave it to me.

The book is one of those barely decent best-sellers that get pumped out a dozen a day by authors who only remain on the top selling list because one of their novels was once made into a summer blockbuster. It's okay though. It'll keep me occupied until my murderous impulses have died down a bit. At least, I hope it will. I'm hoping to break the record for number of years Mulder has gone without dying. It would be a shame to break the streak on my account.


The bag of chips sits on the table, mostly gone, and William has managed to eat almost three quarters of his cookie. Of course, most of that ended up on his shirt, on his face, or in what little hair he has. Yeah, he'll be needing a bit of a clean-up before I put him back to bed. I'm sure Scully would be none too thrilled by this latest father-son endeavor. I shrug off the thought and take the mushy cookie remains and set them on a napkin next to the discarded Doritos bag, settling further down into the couch with William murmuring sleepily against my chest. Conan is on now and I halfheartedly try to pay attention, but it has been a long day and sleep begins to encroach against my will.

**

I awaken to the sound of silence; the television has been turned off. I sigh heavily and rub my face with the hand not placed over William's back. As I slowly blink my eyes open, I see Scully standing before me, her arms crossed over her chest. Uh oh. Busted.

I'm afraid to meet her eyes at first, but when I glance up at her face, she doesn't look angry. In fact, amusement twinkles in her eyes and there is the barest hint of a smile on her lips.

"I was going to clean all this up, Scully. I swear." She licks her lips and raises her eyebrows at me.

"Uh huh." I move to a sitting position, careful not to wake William. "Mulder, is that cookie I see all over his face?" She is trying to sound angry, but she's just not pulling it off. I am indescribably relieved.

"Um... maybe a little bit, yeah." I reach for a napkin and start to gently wipe the baby's hands and face. "But you see, Scully, it was men's night." I explain. She looks confused, so I elaborate. "Only junk food is allowed on men's night."

"Oh."

"I would have given him something healthy, but you see, it's a rule."

"A rule."

"The second rule of men's night."

"What's the first rule of men's night? Don't talk about men's night?"

"No no no, Scully. The first rule is don't chew on electronic devices."

"I wondered why the remote was a bit sticky."

"Yeah, I had to explain that rule to him in detail."

"So, is there a third rule?" She looks at me curiously, the amusement still playing across her face.

"Nah, I didn't get that far before we kinda dozed off."

"I see."

"But I think if there was, it would probably be 'clean up the cookies and Doritos *before* passing out on the couch.' So as to avoid embarrassing confrontations with the Momlady."

"Right."

"Scully?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Mulder. Let's just get him cleaned up and put back in bed."

"No, I mean, I'm sorry about everything. I'm sorry about tonight."

"Oh." She pauses for a moment and then reaches down to pick up Will, careful not to smear cookie on herself. I'm holding my breath, afraid that she'll get angry again. But instead she just takes the baby back into his room. I stand up and follow her.

She places him down carefully on the changing table and begins to strip his tiny pajamas, tossing them into the little hamper beside his dresser. She then proceeds to wipe his face and hands with some Wipey-Dipes. He remains blessedly oblivious, lost in sleep. Dressed again in a little T-shirt, she kisses his head and lays him back down in the crib before turning to me and taking hold of my elbow, leading me quietly out of the room.

Once the door is shut behind us, she moves towards the bedroom. I'm not sure if I should follow her or not, still not quite able to judge her mood.

"Scully?" I ask, confused.

She reaches back and takes my hand into her own, pulling me with her into our bedroom. The bedside lamp is on and I see her book lying face down and open, the bookmark I gave her lying atop the sprawled novel. Other than that there is no light and the room is cast in yellowy shadows. When she speaks, her voice is low, almost as if she is afraid to wake William, even through a hallway and two closed doors.

"Mulder, I've known you long enough to know that every now and then you do stupid things." She looks up at me, her right hand reaching out to hold onto my left. I do not argue; what she says is undeniably true. "But sometimes it makes me angry, and I have to remember that you're not really doing it on purpose."

"No, Scully, I'd never want to upset you on purpose." I try to continue, but she reaches up with her other hand and places a finger over my lips. I stay silent.

"I just wish that you would think things through a little bit more before you do anything dumb. Maybe consider the fact that I'm licensed to carry a concealed weapon and that I could break somebody in half before you start out on a wild chivalrous rampage."

"Oh, Scully. I know you could rip a man's balls off without a second thought. That's one of the reason's I love you." She stifles a smile and looks up at me again.

"I'm serious, Mulder."

"So am I. Watching you kick ass is always a turn on." I tried to stop myself from saying it, I swear I did. I get a slap on the arm, but not a hard one, thankfully.

"Mulder, all I want is for you to at least try to consider my thoughts on the subject before you jump into action. I don't expect you to stop doing stupid things... I just want you to keep me in mind while you're contemplating them, maybe even before you do them." She looks at me, all her anger gone, with a hopeful but not entirely optimistic expression gracing her beautiful face.

"I always keep you in mind, Scully." I say softly. "And I will try, I mean really try, to consider your reactions before I do anything else... impulsive." I bring her hand up to my lips and give it a little kiss before speaking again. "And I really am sorry for upsetting you tonight... not so much for punching that guy, but I didn't mean to make you angry. It's just that I felt so sick when he said that to you, I couldn't help myself. It was like poking a bull in the ass with a red glittery pinwheel. It couldn't be helped." She laughs a little, whether it's at me or my analogy, I have no idea. "He did deserve it though, right?" She looks up at me.

"Yeah, he deserved it. I just wish I could have thrown a few punches."

"That's my Scully." I say lightheartedly. And then I pull her into my arms for a tight hug. It feels so good to clear the air between us, and she nuzzles against my chest, leaning up to press a kiss against my neck. I love her so much right now. No one else on this whole damned planet would ever have the heart to forgive my idiocy and asshole behavior the number of times that Scully has. I know I don't deserve it, but god, I'm so thankful for it. I lean down, my hands moving up to cup her face, and press a kiss against her forehead, then her cheeks, and finally her lips. "I love you so much, Scully." I pull her back against my chest and wrap my arms tightly around her. "Thank you for forgiving me." I feel her arms squeeze me harder. She pulls back and tilts her face towards me.

"Mulder..." She says, her eyes shimmering and wet. "That's the first time you've ever thanked me." I am shocked. Aghast. Appalled. That can't be true... can it?. Surely I've thanked her in the past, told her how much I appreciate everything that she's done, everything that she is. I look down at her, pressed against me tightly, her cheek touching my chest, eyes closed and sighing softly. I am such an asshole.


I feel Mulder's whole body go stiff against me, and I pull back to look at his face. He has that guilt stricken look on his face. Shit. That's not what I meant when I said that to him.

"Mulder... no, stop. I didn't mean it like that." He gets like this sometimes, when he feels that all of the wrongs in the world are his fault, when he feels like everything bad in my life is because of him. It's been a while, but I recognize this face.

"I am such an ass to you Scully. Such an ass." I know that he wants to continue, but I cut him off before he is able.

"Yes, Mulder, yes you are. Sometimes you are completely thoughtless, self-centered, and mean. But I love you anyway, I promise." I try to make light of the situation, but he will have none of it. He bites his lip in a contemplative manner and looks away from me, trying to come up with a good way to berate himself, I'm sure. "Mulder, please. Don't do this." Finally, he looks at me.

"Okay, Scully." I sigh in relief. "But let me just say one thing. I'm sorry for being an asshole to you, every time I ever was and I will try my damndest to never be an asshole again... or at least to apologize afterwards." He smiles at me, and I am glad that this mini guilt trip is over.

"Good. Apology accepted. Now take me to bed or lose me forever." I say with a broad smile.

"Oooh, Scully! Have you been watching Top Gun without me?"

"Maybe." I tease. "But at least you're not still sleeping on the couch."

"How right you are, Scully." He reaches out, putting his hands on either side of my waist and pulls me against him, bending down to capture my mouth with his. Oh, Mulder. He has the most amazing mouth, I swear. It does things that I never would have thought possible. His fingers make tiny swirling motions on my nightshirt as he slowly, almost unnoticeably slips first a few fingers underneath, and then his whole hand. I am already tingling with want as I lean up and press harder against him. He is hard and warm against me and I let my own hands slip beneath his shirt, moving to strip it off of him.

Our mouths must separate briefly while I pull his shirt over his head, but this is good. It gives us time to catch our breath before he dives back down and begins his assault on my lips again, replacing his hands beneath my silky sleeveless shirt. One strong hand slides up the sensitive skin of my back while the other moves around to the front, gently grazing across my stomach and coming to rest against the underside of my breast. I moan softly into his mouth and press myself even closer to him. Our tongues may be dueling, but our bodies are thrumming in harmony.

It surprises me sometimes, how quickly he can bring me to full arousal, how strongly my body reacts to him, needs him. Maybe one day we'll open an X-File on it. Maybe not. I don't think it's something I want Agent Doggett investigating... and I know for damned sure the same thing goes for Mulder.

My thoughts are gone completely as he rubs a thumb against my tightening nipple and I whimper into his mouth. I want us naked, and quick. Luckily, we are only a few articles of clothing away from nudity, and I tug at his simple navy blue boxers, sliding them carefully down his hips and letting them drop to the floor. He steps out of them and closer to me, his erection burning hot against my stomach, even through the thin material of my nightshirt.

"No fair, Scully." He says against my neck before giving it a little nip, eliciting a gasp followed by a groan from me.

"Hmm?" I ask, barely able to form words, and not wanting to distract his mouth from what it's doing.

"Too many clothes." He says, by way of explanation. He then proceeds to yank the flimsy nightshirt from my body, breaking contact with my neck just long enough to do so. I am glad when it is gone; the cooler air feels wonderful against my skin and my nipples tighten further. He then reaches down and slides my underwear off so we are both completely naked. "Bed, Scully. Now." I hold no objections and back towards the bed. Mulder's mouth continues to lavish attention on my neck with little licks and bites, traveling occasionally up to my mouth for another knee-weakening kiss.

When I back against the bed finally, Mulder helps out by lifting my hips and settling me comfortably against the pillows. I wiggle over slightly so he can join me, and then hold my arms out to him. He comes willingly, moving to kiss me. I pull his body down against mine, wanting to feel the weight of him against me. I love this. It reminds me that he his solid and real, that this love between us is tangible. I let my hands play against his back, massaging the taut muscles there as his mouth is sealed warmly to mine. My hips are cradling his and he lets his weight rest fully against me. He knows how much I love this. My hands move up into his hair and I slide my fingers through the thick brown mass before gently pulling his face away from mine to look into his eyes.

"I love you." I tell him, very quietly. He looks at me, deadly serious and brushes the hair from my forehead, studying me carefully.

"I love you, Scully." His voice is low and gravelly, as naked as the two of us. I smile lovingly up at him and place a soft kiss against his lips.

"Show me." I whisper into his mouth, my eyes closed, and my voice so muted, I can barely hear it myself.

There is little foreplay tonight. This time it is about forgiveness and acceptance, about moving past those things that have caused rifts between us in the past. Tonight there is understanding. We are healing those small gaps, the ones we might not have even known were there, the ones that caused petty discrepancies and bitter words when all that we've ever wanted was to love each other. There will be no more doubt between us. I am as sure of this as I am of anything else in the world.

I feel his erection rub against my folds and reach down to guide him. He slides into me achingly slowly and so I wrap my legs around his back and rock against him, demanding what I know he will give in response. Our height differences make it difficult to kiss in this position, but he makes a concentrated effort, managing to press his lips roughly to mine before sliding into my body again and again. I will gladly forego his kisses temporarily for this sensation. Pleasure is already building within me exponentially with each thrust. I can tell that his is too.

After a few more minutes, I can bear the pressure no longer and I cry out softly into his neck in release. He follows me shortly over the edge and rolls onto his back, pulling me with him so that I am sprawled across his chest. I slide up his body to look him in the eyes. He reaches a hand up, again, to brush the hair from my face and tuck it gently behind my ear. He seems to love this gesture, and I cannot deny that I love it too. It is, in some ways, more intimate than kissing, perhaps more intimate than sex. All over the world, people share kisses that mean nothing, people have sex that means nothing. But that loving gesture that he performs without much thought speaks of so much more. My contemplation must show on my face because he looks at me quizzically.

"What?" He asks. I turn my face in his hand to place a kiss against his open palm, and then replace my lips with my own hand, interlocking our fingers. I am reminded of a line from Romeo and Juliet. 'And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss...' or something along those lines. My thoughts are everywhere tonight, untamed. I smile at him.

"Nothing." I reply. "Just thinking about you." He grins at me in response.

"Good thoughts, I hope."

"Of course." I lean down to kiss him again. It is a slow and sleepy kiss. It has been a long day for both of us, even with the little nap that both he and I took while the chocolate cookie was drying on William's face and shirt and hands, while late night talk shows played into the unhearing night. I break the kiss, place another on his nose, and then slide down to rest my head against his chest, rubbing my hand aimlessly along his side. I sigh in contentment and let my eyes drift closed. "Good night, Mulder." I manage to get out.

"G'night, Scully." He reaches around me and pulls the comforter up and over us, resting a gentle hand against my back, and that is all I am aware of before I drift off into slumber.


When I wake up, I am draped in a wonderful and warm Scullyblanket. Her breath is puffing softly against my chest and her arms are wrapped tightly around me. But there is something else that I am aware of. Two things, actually. One, I have to pee like there's no tomorrow. Two, William is whimpering fitfully in his room, occasionally interspersing his whimpers with tiny sobs. I must, unfortunately, detangle myself from the Scullyblanket.

I sigh, and pry her arms from around my waist, placing a kiss on each hand before I place it back onto the bed. I slide out from under her as slowly and gently as I possibly can. Once I am free Scully moans in distress, a little frown line appearing between her closed eyes, and mumbles a few unintelligible words before pulling my pillow against her chest and snuggling against it. I suppose it is a fairly decent substitute. I snap off the baby monitor, not wanting to wake her unnecessarily, and head into the bathroom to do my business as fast as I can.

On my way from the bathroom to William's room, I snatch my boxers off the floor and slip them on. I glance at the clock on my way out. 5:26. Not too bad. That's a longer sleep than William usually indulges in. And it's Saturday. Blessed Saturday, when I have Scully and William all to myself, and we have no plans but to sleep, watch TV, and bask in the wonderful glow that is familial bliss.

I lift William from his crib and his sniffles and sobs lower, but do not stop completely as I lay him against my shoulder. He's hungry. Unfortunately, that's Scully's department but since Maggie was here last night, I'm guessing that there is still at least one bottle left in the fridge. I check and, thankfully, I am right. Preparations are difficult with a crying baby on my shoulder, but I manage all right. I'm getting to be okay at this dad thing.

We wander back out into the living room, William slurping at his bottle that he is just learning to hold up on his own. It slips occasionally, and I have to right it for him. The floor is cool under my bare feet as I move to the window and lift the blind. The sky is beginning to lighten ever so slowly and I can see the colorful leaves on the trees that haven't yet begun to fall. It is early autumn and still relatively warm. Today will be perfect for a walk in the park.

My thoughts are interrupted by a hand on my shoulder and I turn to face Scully who smiles up at me warmly. I notice that she has put on my T-shirt from last night. She looks to the bottle that William is gripping at with his chubby hands and then back up at me, an expression of gratitude on her face. Every bit of sleep counts with a baby in the house.

"Last one in the fridge." I tell her. She nods and then looks at William again.

"He's getting good at that." She says, indicating his bottle-holding skills.

"Yeah." I say wistfully. "Pretty soon he'll be running around and bouncing basketballs all over the place."

"Ha ha, Mulder, very funny."

"What?" I ask, "No mini basketball hoops in the living room?"

"Not in this house." She responds. By now William has realized that his mom is in the room and he struggles to get to her. I let her take him from me and she readjusts the bottle so he can finish it.

"Oh, c'mon, Scully. Every growing boy has got to break a few windows." She raises her eyebrows at me.

"*Every* growing boy? Did you break any windows when you were young?"

"When I was young? Scully, I'm *still* young."

"Uh huh." She says, indulgently. "You didn't answer the question."

"Broken windows? I don't know, maybe one or two." I admit.

"Let's just hope it's not genetic." At that, William finishes his bottle and lets it drop from his hands and I catch it just before it hits the floor. "Nice catch." Scully says.

"Thanks." I say. I place my hand on her back and begin leading her from the living room towards the bedroom. "Come on, Scully. Let's put the rugrat back to sleep so we can hit the sack." She shifts William in her arms so that she can burp him and put him back in the crib.

"Hit the sack for sleep, or do you have something else in mind?" She eyes me curiously.

"You'll just have to wait and find out." I say mischievously as we head into the baby's room.

Today will be a very good day.

End


Notes: As far as Mulder thanking Scully goes, I know that he said "Thank you for taking care of me" in the episode "Anasazi." I'm choosing to ignore this. I couldn't think of any other times he had said thank you to her, and never once that he's apologized to her for being an ass which he really is sometimes.

Thanks: To Ellie and Karen for beta (my first beta ever!) because now my story has far less mistakes and my brain has far less worries. :) Thanks a million!

Please send me feedback and let me know how I did with my first non PG rated story. :) My email address is Starbuck70@aol.com




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