My good deed accomplished, I make myself comfortable once more on the couch and dial up Mulder's cellphone.

"Mulder."

"Hey, it's me."

"Scully? Is he home?"

"Yeah. Yves just brought him in."

"Yves?"

"Yves. . .Harlow, I think is her last name. She's a friend of the Gunmen."

"Long dark hair, killer lips, funky accent, legs you'd love to see wrapped around your neck?"

"I don't know about THAT. You know her?

"Uh-huh. Met her once about a year ago. She was hanging out at the Warehouse with the guys."

"And you remembered her from one meeting?"

"Wouldn't YOU?"

"You've got a point there."

"So, how'd she find him?"

"She didn't say."

"Why'd he leave?"

"I don't know. I haven't had a chance to talk to him yet."

"Do the others know yet?"

"No, I just got off the phone with Mom. Can you give Jimmy a call and let him know Mel's safe?"

"Sure, no problem."

"And thank him for me. He's the one who put Yves on Frohike's trail in the first place."

"You got it."     

"Mulder, I'm real sorry your plans got ruined for today."

"That's okay--I'll get him tomorrow."

"So you're still going to go through with it?"

"Of course. Hey, I have to know if there's anything to your 'female intuition'. Wish me luck?"

"You know I do. Oh, and Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"You better invite me to the wedding."

"Who do you think is gonna be my best man?"

I've just hung up the phone, and am still giggling over Mulder's final statement when Frohike strolls barefoot into the living room, wearing the clean pajamas I left out for him. He's not wearing his glasses and he looks so naked without them. More vulnerable. I give him a little smile and inquire gently, "Feeling better?"

"No, but I smell better," he replies, candidly. Pulling at his pajama top, he murmurs, "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

An awkward pause follows before he says, "I'm, ahhhh, I'm sorry about. . .what I said to you in the bathroom. I didn't mean it to sound so testy. I just. . .I hated you seeing that."

"I know, Mel. It's okay. Really."

He gestures to the couch where I'm sitting. "May I?"

I don't answer him; I simply move down a little ways to make some room for him and pat the sofa cushion next to me invitingly. After a moment, he steps forward and takes up my unspoken offer, sitting rigidly beside me.

I reach out my right hand towards him and he shirks away, relaxing when all I do is brush some stray wet strands of hair out of his face. He gives me a small sheepish smile, tentatively asking, "Where's Yves?"

"She had a business meeting."

"I'm sure she did," he faintly chuckles before he grows silent, and starts wringing his hands nervously. Finally he lifts his eyes to me and whispers a heartfelt, "I'm sorry, Dana. I never meant to hurt you."

He looks so sad and remorseful and miserable that I can't help my heart from going out to him. My hand gently caresses down his very stubbly cheek as I assure him, "It's okay, Mel. I'm just glad you're home."

"You are?" he asks, his voice soft and uncertain.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?" When he doesn't answer me, I gently prod, "Mel, why did you do it? Why did you leave me?"

He hesitates, still wringing his hands, before confessing, "I. . .I did it so you could be with Mulder."

Surely I've misheard what he just said. "Pardon me?"

Taking a deep breath and exhaling it sharply, he repeats, "I left so that you'd be able to marry Mulder. I thought it's what you wanted."

MULDER?! He left because of Mulder?! I should have known. Everything in my life seems to lead back to Mulder. But suddenly everything makes sense. The aloof way he acted last night. His seemingly indifferent attitude to Mulder's presence. His almost selfish behavior when it came to William. My God, he was jealous of Mulder! Why hadn't I seen that? Some investigator *I* am!

Knowing my eyebrow is residing somewhere past my hairline, I exclaim in disbelief, "Mel, whatever made you think I wanted that?"

"I heard him tell you he was ready to settle down. But as long as I was around you weren't free to be with him. If I wasn't here anymore then you could," he explains logically.

"Oh, Frohike. . ." I sigh, shaking my head in bemusement, as I feel my anger and anxiety starting to drain away at his admission. This man can be so exasperating! "Didn't I tell you before I hate to be ditched, no matter what the reasons are? Whatever am I going to do with you?"

"You love him," he insists, rather agitated. "I know you do. I saw you hugging him, kissing him."

"You were spying on me, Mel?" I ask, sharply.

At least he has the decency to appear repentant. "I didn't mean to and you're avoiding the subject."

He's right. I am avoiding the issue, because I'm afraid of hurting him by telling him the truth. But the truth is what's needed if we're going to work this through. So, taking his worrying hands in mine, I open myself up to him. "Yes, you're right--I do love him. Very much. We've been to heaven and hell together. At times he's been like a big brother, other times, like my father, and sometimes, like a son. Mulder is very special to me, and he always will be. He's my best friend, maybe even my soul mate. But he could never be my husband, or my lover."

His brow furrows in confusion. "But. . .what about William?"

The change of topic throws me momentarily. "What about him?"

Cheeks flushing, he sputters, "If you and Mulder aren't. . .I mean, if you've never been. . .intimate. . .are we talking the Second Coming here?"

I really wasn't expecting that question--it's something that has never come up before. Since everyone knows I'm sterile due to my abduction, I assumed they would just figure out William was conceived artificially. Apparently, I was wrong to assume. "No, it wasn't a miracle, except of science." At his blank look, I explain, "Invitro fertilization, Mel. When I discovered the ova Mulder found were still viable, I acknowledged it may be my last chance to have a child, and he agreed to help me." I shake my head and laugh at some of the colorful memories. "Believe me, if I ever doubted his friendship before, I discovered what a REAL friend was those agonizing months of trying to get pregnant."

"You mean you guys never. . .?" his question trails off, and he turns an even deeper shade of red.

"No, we never did," I tell him with a small smile. "We're friends. Only friends."

My answer clearly stumps him, but not for long. "Even if Mulder was just a donor, he's still Billy's father. And Billy deserves to be with his father," he pronounces resolutely. 

"He IS with his father," I correct him, pulling one of my hands out of his grasp and running it down his cheek. "The best father in the world. And I'm sure William would be the first to agree with me--if he could talk, that is."

He lowers his eyes, chuckling an embarrassed, "Oh, Dana. . ." 

But I'm not done with him yet. "And for the record, Mel, I'm already with the man I love. And that's just what I told Mulder last night."

The expression in those naked, defenseless eyes is one of sheer disbelief. "You did?"

"Uh-huh. . .right before he told me he came back for Skinner," I reveal with a huge grin.

He just sits there staring at me, trying to process what I've just told him. After a moment he gives up and simply exclaims, "WHAT?!"

"Mulder IS ready to settle down. . .with Walter."

"Dana, I'm seriously toasted over here, remember? Don't mess with my head like this," he scolds.

"I'm not messing with you, Mel," I state as I wrap my arm around his shoulder. "Apparently Mulder's been conflicted by his feelings for both me and Skinner for years now, but after the past few months of soul searching, he's made his choice and he's ready to tell Walter just how he feels."

"You mean, he never intended to come back for you and William?" he demands, indignantly.

I shake my head 'no'.   "He loves me, too, but not in a romantic way. So you see, it works out all the way around."

"Are you saying I almost lost you for nothing?" and he turns so green I'm afraid he's going to be sick again all over the couch.

"Mel, you can't get rid of me that easily," I laugh, rushing to comfort him. "I would have just kept looking until I found you." Caressing his cheek once more, I vow, "I love you, remember?"

"So, you're not mad?" he asks, hopefully.

"Oh, no, I'm mad," I assure him. "VERY mad. More angry than you could possibly know. I went through hell today, not knowing where you were, if you were okay or not. You scared me to death." I'm careful to keep my voice calm but firm. It's not as easy as it sounds.

"Then why are you being so nice to me?" he wants to know.

"You mean, why aren't I flinging plates at you?" I chuckle, remembering his descriptions of his 'disagreements' with Mykita. 

He gives his own snort of laughter. "Yeah, something like that."

Taking his hand in mine once more, I begin relating a story from my past. "When I was 16, I went out with some friends. I didn't get home until three in the morning, even after I had promised Mom I'd be home at midnight. She was waiting for me by the front door as I tried to sneak in, and man, did she let me have it! She reprimanded me so loud she woke up the whole house. Then, after she had reduced me to tears, she hugged me so hard I couldn't breath. She was just so worried and so upset, the first impulse she had was to get it all out, which is what she did. Once all the anxiety and anger was gone, she felt only relief that I was okay. And that's what I feel right now--I'm just relieved you're home." 

I pause for a moment and smile before continuing. "Believe me, that was my first impulse, too. I wanted to just scream and take out all my frustration on you. I was so scared--all those times Mulder ran off on me, all the close calls we had, all the times I almost lost him. I couldn't bear to lose you, Mel." 

"Why didn't you?" he wonders in a shaky voice, his eyes filling with tears.

"Well, it's late, and I didn't want to wake the neighbors," I joke. "And besides, I didn't want to ruin Mom's fun."

"Mom?" he asks, warily.

I nod. "Oh, yeah, Mel. She wants to have a word with you. And I'm sure Mulder does, too. After all, he had planned to talk to Skinner today, so you wrecked that for him."

"I did?" He was turning green again.

"Yes, you did. And let's not forget the guys."

"The guys?" I don't think I've ever seen that color green before.

"Uh-huh. Jimmy is itching to give you a good dressing-down. And Byers is certain to have a few choice words." I feel an evil smirk crossing my face as I add, "I think we'll save Langly for last. He's bound to have the most to say."

"Oh, shit," he groans, piteously.

"Oh, shit is right. So, with that many people lined up to ream you a new asshole, I think I can be charitable for tonight and be easy on you." My smirk grows wider as I remember Yves' suggestion, "But not TOO easy."

He chuckles mirthlessly. "I'm screwed, aren't I?"

"Thoroughly and completely," I quip.

Hanging his head in misery, he mutters, "I don't even know why you guys want me to stick around anyway. All I ever manage to do is hurt you, even when I don't mean to." He heaves a deep, dejected sigh. "I just can't seem to do anything right."

"But you try your best, Mel," I argue, giving his hand a squeeze, "and always with the best intentions. Sometimes I think you try TOO hard--and that's when you seem to get into trouble."

"I know, and I'm sorry," he apologizes once more. "I. . .I don't deserve you, Dana." Dropping his head onto my shoulder, he sighs again, "I. . .I love you too, you know."

After learning everything he went through over the last couple of days for me, I'd say that's a serious understatement. "I know," I whisper, giving him a loving kiss on the cheek. "You've had a hard day--you should get some sleep. We'll talk more in the morning."

"Yeah, that sounds good," he agrees, with a yawn. "Just gotta do something first." With that, he gets up, wobbles, but holds his ground, then heads off towards William's room. I smile to myself--I had been wondering how long it would take for him to make his way over to the boy. Deciding he'd need a few minutes alone with his son, I go around the apartment, locking down for the night. But even after I'm done my task, he still hasn't emerged from the nursery, so I make my way over to see what's up.

Peering in the door, I see him standing by the crib, simply running his fingers, feather-light, up and down William's back and gently over his head. I must make some kind of sound because he whispers, "I didn't want to wake him up."

Dropping my voice in volume, I whisper back, "I'm sure he wouldn't mind," then add a teasing, "Sometimes I think you love him more than you love me." 

I get a soft chuckle out of him. "Let's just say it's a tie."

Stepping into the room behind him, I slip my arms around Mel's waist and place my head on his shoulder. "He loved the Blue's Clues videos you got him."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh. I played them this afternoon to keep him busy. The whole time they were playing, he kept saying, 'Blue, Blue', and clapping his hands. After they were done, he wanted to watch them again. I think we're going to get a lot of use out of them." Hugging him closer to me, I confide, "He was asking for you at dinner, you know."

Mel turns in my arms, and even in the dimness of the Mickey Mouse nightlight, I can see wetness in his eyes. "Really?" he asks, full of wonder and hope.

"Uh-huh. He'd say 'Dad' and point at your chair then give me a puzzled look. He seemed confused you weren't there." Removing my right hand from his waist, I use it to brush some stray wisps of hair behind his ear. "I think he missed you."

"I missed him, too," he chokes out, his voice raspy with unshed tears.

"I'm just glad I didn't have to tell him 'Dad' wasn't coming back." Frohike ducks his head away from me, but I fix that by placing my finger under his chin, forcing him to look back at me. I give him a warm smile, "I'm so happy you're home, Mel," and I pull him in for a kiss.

It takes a moment, but soon I feel his arms encircle my waist and pull me close against him, the kiss deepening as the seconds pass. I can still taste the Scope on his breath as I slip my tongue past his lips and curl it around his own. I want to let him know how much I love him, how much I need him, how much he means to me. My words might not convince him, but maybe my kiss will.

I really hope it will. 

As we pull apart, there's a glow in his eyes that wasn't there before, and I get the feeling my kiss might have finally gotten through to him. I give him a big smile, even as I'm tugging on his sleeve. "C'mon, Mel--let's get to bed." With a returning smile and a nod, he follows me out of the nursery, leaving the door open so we can hear William if he needs us. 

When we get to the living room, he starts to go his own way, but I don't let go of his sleeve, and pull him instead towards my bedroom. "Ah, Dana, where are we going?" he asks, uncertainly.

"You're sleeping with me tonight," I inform him as I push him towards my bed. "I'm not letting you out of my sight."

He laughs nervously, "You're kidding, right?"

Instead of answering, I give him a little shove until he's sitting on the edge of the mattress. "No, I'm not. And if you don't behave, I may just have to break out the handcuffs."

"And that's supposed to be a deterrent?" he jokes.

"Just get in the bed," I command as I pull off my socks and slip in on the other side.

"I must be dreaming," he murmurs as he scrambles to get under the covers. Once he's settled in, I spoon up against him, throwing my arm around his waist. 

"Now if you try to ditch me tonight, I'll know all about it," I explain, "and I promise to make you sorry you were ever born."

He chuckles at that. "You don't have to worry--I'm not planning on going anyplace."

"Good," I mutter, snuggling up closer to him, and instantly wondering if I've made a big mistake with my impulsive suggestion. I mean, I'm laying in bed with Melvin Frohike, a man who, beyond all measure of logic, has become the star in many of my late-night fantasies. A year ago, I would have laughed at someone if they even suggested this could happen, but a year ago, I was a single mom with no one to share my life with. Then, out of nowhere, Mel stepped in and turned my whole world upside down.

I can smell him under the fragrance of my Victoria's Secrets pear shower gel that he used, probably by mistake in his inebriated confusion. Still, even with the strong fruity bouquet, I can recognize his familiar masculine scent. It's invading my senses, enveloping me. Combined with the feel of him pressed against me, I find my mind starting to drift into some erotic, forbidden territory. I wish I could just roll him flat on his back, strip those cotton jammies off him, and have him ravish me until dawn. 

But he's in no condition for any kind of roll in the sheets--not tonight, at least. And besides, there's that damnable contract we agreed to which prevents any such activity. As my leg drapes over his, bringing our bodies into even closer contact, I vow to myself to discuss that 'no-sex' provision with him sometime soon. . .my shower massager has been putting in too much overtime lately.

A soft "Dana?" breaks into my lustful musings.

"Hmmm?" I purr, melting against his warm, solid body.

He clasps my hand in his and gently brings it up to his lips. After planting a tiny butterfly kiss on the back of it, he drops it down until he's clutching it over his chest. After a moment's hesitation, he whispers, "I'm sorry Mulder didn't come back for you."

I smile in the darkness, feeling his heart beating strongly beneath my palm. Giving him a peck on his cheek, I sigh, "I'm not."

Friday, May 17, 2002

7:47 A.M.

Scully's bedroom

I awake to discover that I'm alone in the bed. Running my hand over the spot where Frohike lay sleeping not more than six hours earlier, I curse in disbelief. I just can't believe he's done it to me again! Next time, I WILL use the handcuffs, so help me God! I'm not even bothering with the Three Stooges this time around. I'm getting Jimmy on the phone and he's going to contact Yves and she's going to track him down--AGAIN!--and then I'm going to kick his ass royally!

I charge out of the bedroom only to discover the pleasant smell of fresh-brewed coffee wafting through the apartment. As my brain is processing that, I also discern the faint aroma of waffles blended with it. Following my nose, I make my way to the kitchen, where a still-pajama'd Frohike is busy at the stove. He's whistling softly as he putters between the counter and the fridge, taking time in between to rain little butterfly kisses on William, who's sitting in his high-chair already at work on a waffle of his own. Mel has cut it up into little bite-size pieces, which William is attempting to eat with his fingers. Consequently, he's got syrup on his face, on his clothes, in his hair--and the biggest grin from ear to ear.

The little tyke, in fact, ruins my snooping by gurgling, "MA! MA! MA!" and waving his syrup-covered hands in the air.

The commotion alerts Mel to my presence. "Dana? What are you doing up?"

I cross my arms over my chest and in a mock-stern voice, I respond, "I could ask you the same question."

He gives me a knowing smile. "You thought I ditched you again, didn't you?"

"You have a track record now, Mel," I remind him snidely. "I'm going to have you on a short leash for a while."

"Well, for your information, this little guy here," he indicates, tenderly running his hand over William's sticky head, "woke up hungry about a half-hour ago. You were sleeping so soundly I guess you didn't hear him."

"No, I guess I didn't," I reply, slightly embarrassed. Yesterday was a very stressful day, and once I got to sleep, I had seriously crashed. Actually, I'm amazed at how good Mel is functioning this morning. . .he should be three sheets to the wind and still sleeping it off.

"Yeah, well, that's what I figured, and since I didn't want to bother you. . ." He lets the sentence die out and, with a shrug, turns his attention to the waffle machine. With his back to me, he continues, "Now, if you'll just head on back to bed, maybe I can finish my little surprise." 

"And that would be?" I tease, playfully.

"Why, breakfast in bed, of course," he smiles over his shoulder, then goes back to his cooking tasks.

"Really?" 

"Hey, I've got some major suckin' up to do. Gotta start somewhere, right?"

I watch him for a moment, as he places the fresh-made waffles on a plate, then pours some more batter into the machine and closes the lid. Everything seems like it's back to normal--at least on the outside. But I want to be sure. I NEED to be sure. "So, you're staying?" I inquire, softly.

He turns away from the appliance to face me; leaning against the counter, he answers just as softly, "If you want me to."

Stepping forward, I cup his very stubbly face in my hands (oh, BOY, does he need a shave!) and sigh, "Yeah, I really want you to," before leaning in for a kiss. It's brief and gentle, just his warm lips pressing mine, just enough to seal the deal--just enough to start the healing. His arms encircle my waist as mine slip around his neck; we hug each other for a few moments, and I feel an involuntary shiver go down my back at the thought that I almost lost this.

"You okay, honey?" he asks, concerned.

"Yeah, I just. . .Mel, don't you EVER do that to me again, okay?" I beseech. "If you have any questions or any doubts about our relationship, PLEASE talk to me."

"I promise, sweetheart," he shushes. "I'll never ditch you again. I swear."

I take a deep, relieved breath. "I'm going to hold you to that. And after breakfast, we're going to have that talk." Looking him in the eye, I promise, "We'll get through this, Mel. Everything's going to be okay. WE'RE going to be okay."

He runs a caressing hand down my cheek and smiles. "Yeah, I know." 

I rest my head on his shoulder and just savor his embrace for a few moments before I hesitantly broach the subject that has caused so many hurt feelings over the past 36 hours. "Mel, what about Mulder?"

"What about him?"

"Well, he's my best friend. I can't just leave him out in the cold. I want him to be a part of our lives and a part of William's life. It would be good for both of them. You saw the two of them together."

Mel tenderly strokes my hair, soothing me. "Honey, Mulder's my friend too, you know. And yes, seeing the way he and Billy interacted the other night--they need each other. Besides, it'll give us an extra babysitter on call. Just promise me one thing."

I give him a grateful smile. "What's that?"

"If I ever act like a jealous jackass again, you'll put me in my place."

I laugh at that. "And you know I can do it."

He groans painfully, "Ohhhh, yeah. . .all too well." We stand there like that, simply holding each other, and I feel so fulfilled. This is all I want in life--Mel and Billy, and maybe some fresh waffles. As if he can read my mind, he gives me a pat on the fanny and orders, "Now, get on back in bed--breakfast is almost ready."

I ignore his command and instead go to my son, planting a kiss on his syrup-slicked cheek. He gives me a huge sticky grin and shoves a piece of waffle in my face. Graciously accepting it, I pop it in my mouth. Oh, yeah. 'Martha Frohike' strikes again. Stepping back over to the counter where Mel is busy pouring a cup of coffee, I kiss HIS cheek and remind him, "Extra syrup on my waffles."

He gives me a big smile. "You got it, Angel."

"Oh, and Mel?" I call out over my shoulder.

"Yeah?"

I flash him a mischievous grin. "YOU'RE giving William his bath today."

He looks over at his gooey child, makes a face and sighs dramatically, "Yes, ma'am."

I'm still laughing as I crawl back into bed to await my first of many 'make-up' breakfasts.

THE END