This chapter contains sexually explicit material and has been completely rewritten from its original content.

CHAPTER 6: The Moment of Truth

"And I'd give up forever to touch you,
Because I know that you feel me somehow,
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be,
And I don't want to go home right now.

And all I can taste is this moment,
And all I can breathe is your life,
Because sooner or later it's over,
I just don't wanna miss you tonight.

And I don't want the world to see me,
Because I don't think that they'd understand,
When everything's made to be broken,
I just want you to know who I am."

- Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls

"Mulder," Scully repeated his name breathlessly as she finally reached him. God, her ankles ached – she shouldn't have worn the goddamn stilettos today and she shouldn't run with them out in the cold England rain. But these were small inconveniences that she was willing to overcome if it meant another chance …
She draped an ailing arm on Mulder's strong shoulders and he looked at her with a bemused smile for a moment. After a heartbeat and after she tried to catch her breath, he raised his eyebrows at her.

"Scully? Didn't I always remind you to buy yourself some sensible shoes? You're not in the FBI anymore, I'm sure loafers wouldn't cramp your style," he kidded, reaching over to brush a loose strand of red hair from her flushed face. She smirked through her deep breaths.

"I need heels to be able to reach you, Mulder."

His face lost its humor when he read between her lines. He swallowed nervously and she took this opportunity to adjust her stance. She squared her shoulders and looked at him straight into his eyes, so straight that she mentally willed her gaze to peel off the remaining walls he kept around his heart.

"What is this?" She raised the crumpled piece of paper to his face. Mulder accepted it from her carefully, scanned it, and gave out a tired, frustrated sigh. He returned it to her.

"Scully, look … you don't have to know about this …"

"You're resigning from the FBI? Is that what this is? Your resignation letter, right?"

"I'm sorry …" He grabbed the paper from her once again and this time, crumpled it into a ball. He tossed it into a nearby garbage pit. "Yes, it's a resignation letter. I'm sorry you had to see it."

Scully's eyes widened and she bit her lip. She couldn't believe it – he actually wanted to leave the FBI. He wanted to leave the X- Files, his life's work, his crusade. And for what? For her? No, not for her, because he was leaving her, too. What was all this shit for, anyway? Scully felt the tears behind her eyes she blinked hard to keep them at bay.

They spent an eternal minute in silence: with Scully tightening the trench coat around her small figure and Mulder shuffling his hands inside his pockets.

She broke the silence. She needed to. She wanted to.

"Go back to the X- Files, Mulder. Don't send in that resignation letter."

"I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"It's done already. Skinner accepted it a few days ago."

Scully recoiled in shock, and for a moment, she almost reached out to hold onto his arm once more but thought against it. "What?"

Mulder vehemently shook his head. She could see his hands forming fists in his pockets. "It's already done, Scully. Nothing they or YOU will say could change my decision." He exhaled the air he must have held in for the past few minutes. To Scully's ear, it sounded so tired, so defeated, the way he let his breath go.

"Is that the truth?" she whispered, and she didn't keep the pain from her voice. What was there to lose at that point? They had both lost so much now and it felt absurd: to be two lonely figures standing in the middle of a foreign country, each holding their losses out against each other. They had nothing now. Nothing …

"I can't lie to you anymore, Scully," he bit his lip, "I'm all lied out."

"Then Mulder, why? Why did you resign?"

His shoulders tensed and he made a move as if to walk away from her, before facing her again. When their eyes met, she cringed at how much pain there was in him. "The X- Files …" he paused. "You know the reason why, Scully!"

"I don't. Tell me," she urged.

"It isn't worth it anymore …"

"That's not reasonable enough, Mulder!" She threw her hands up in the air, and she felt her whole body tremble at her sudden anger. "This is the X- Files! It's your life's work! It's not VCS, not a background check on manures all over the country, not even me …" she choked, hated that she choked on that, but she truly believed in what she said and he must hear it. "Go back to the FBI and do what you need to do …"

"That's the problem, Scully!" He grabbed her by her shoulders to keep her still. The anger burned in him, and she wondered what he was angry about. She was just telling the truth.

"What IS the problem, Mulder?" she demanded, confused.

"The X-Files is NOT you. It could never replace you. Without you, my work on the X-Files is meaningless. I can't do it alone. I don't want a new partner. You're the only one I want."

His declaration, his truth, forced Scully in an astonished hush. Mulder opened his mouth to continue but noticed that half of the people inside the bar were looking at them. He and Scully must've been arguing loud enough to catch their attention.
With a sigh, Mulder patted Scully's shoulders with a whisper of 'wait a minute.' He quickly went inside the bar, grabbed the roses and the photos, paid the bartender more than what Scully consumed, and went back to her. She was still standing there in the same position he left her, so he guided her towards his car with a hand on the small of her back.

Outside and beyond the bar's canopy, the skies were as black as night. It started to drizzle again after a short reprieve, and Mulder had to raise his trench coat to shield himself and Scully from the incoming storm. When a strong gust of wind swept through their bodies and Scully visibly shivered beside him, Mulder instinctively reached over and hugged her. She stopped walking and he stopped moving.

They were a few feet away from his rented car. They were a few feet away from another drive. She was squished in between his arms, the flowers and his briefcase. But they stopped. Rain was about to come, but they stopped and stared at each other.

Scully looked up at him – letting her blue meet his green – and it was home. They were both home.

She reached up to caress his cheek and he leaned into her palm. Then, without warning, she tilted her head up and pressed her lips against his. Lightly at first, testing, tentative, and then he couldn't take it. He hugged her tighter so that her body would meet his and he opened his mouth to drink her in. When their tongues met, his head swam – with the storm, with her taste, with everything he had left in him – and he let himself swim in all things Scully. She tasted delicious – like early morning stakeouts with her drool on his shoulder or evenings of making love during winter. She tasted like the past and so much more, because there was a future. There could be a future. He just had to take it and make it real.
They broke apart, only to have him chase her lips back and devour her once more. Scully whimpered against his kiss and her body relaxed into his embrace. He supported her weight on his arms and he didn't mind. It felt like fucking heaven after a year of missing her so bad. He wanted all of her – even her weight, her vulnerability, everything.

Finally, he left her lips and kissed her cheeks to murmur against her skin, "Scully, listen to me … if I continue to work on the X- Files to find the truth without you, it would be like fighting without any armors. I'm destined to lose this battle without you by my side, you understand? What good is the truth if I do find it and you're not there to share it with me? You were there every step of the way, Scully. This truth is mine, as much as it yours. It's ours to find, ours to discover, ours to deal with. I can't go on without you, Scully. I can't and I won't."

They kissed again. This time, Mulder could taste the saltiness of Scully's tears. It felt to him that they were kissing forever, so he was mildly surprised when Scully pulled back to rest her lips on his forehead.

"Mulder," she softly said, "what are you planning to do after this?"

"I really have no idea," he answered, and despite the absurdity of what he just said, it felt so good to hear those words out loud because finally, he was telling her the truth. He really didn't know what he would do after meeting with Scully. For the first time in his life, he had no direction. He had no signs. He had nothing to follow, nothing to find, nothing to discover. And for the first time in his life, it was okay. It was all right to be lost.
He cleared his throat. "I was thinking of driving around England until the rental called the police on me. I don't know if I should go back to the US or find my way here in the UK … but the Lone Gunmen are inviting me to their pad as the fourth hacker. Imagine that: Nark, DOM, Banshee, and Spooky."

Scully laughed. That was when they both realized how wet they were. The flowers were ruined, his briefcase was waterproof (but he thought it was also ruined), their clothes were soaked through and through, and there they were … two people who had lost everything at that point, and they were laughing. They laughed so hard they shook against each other; they laughed so hard Mulder wasn't sure if he was tearing up from the laughter or he was wet from the rain.

It felt liberating. It felt right; it felt like home.

"Well, shit," Mulder cracked, still chuckling, "now the rental will really want the police to arrest me after I waterlog their upholstery!"

Scully giggled, music to his ears, and she kissed him on his cheek. Her lips felt warm against the coolness of the storm. He shivered at how good her lips felt against all things cold.

"Mulder, come home with me."

He moved back to stare at her, searching her face. "Are you serious?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Where do you intend to dry off?"

Had they been apart for a year already? Because when Mulder opened his mouth to tell her that he was going back to a nonexistent motel he rented over the rainbow, Scully's eyebrow raised even higher like a dare: Go ahead, tell me otherwise. He was caught. She knew him too damn well.
Scully urged him on, "I have a flat and it's pretty cozy." When she saw his eyebrows raise up in mock alarm, she backtracked a bit, "No pressure. Let's dry off and talk. Over jasmine tea."

Mulder grinned. "Flat?"

"And tea." She smiled back. "Stay with me, Mulder. Where else will you go?"

To you. Always back to you, Scully. He didn't say it out loud because he wanted her to read it on his face. She must've, because her smile softened and she reached out to take his hand into her own.

Yes, they had nothing. They were but two dots in a foreign country with nothing left to their names. But, Scully realized, they had each other. And that made it all worth the losses.

She was boiling hot water in her kitchen in her cotton robe, while Mulder was slowly peeling off his clothes one-by-one in her living room. She had linoleum floors so there was no real fear that the water would seep into the floor underneath hers, but she gave him a rug to stand on and a pail to throw his clothes into. He didn't seem eager to go to the bathroom to change, either. He seemed too tired to take those final steps into privacy – he had been flying and driving for hours before they met. And really, there was no reason why they should be shy around each other.
Nevertheless, she did turn her back to him and willed herself to not look as she boiled the water and readied their jasmine tea bags.

The water finished boiling, so she poured it into a teapot. She grabbed two cups from her cabinet and placed it onto a Japanese folding table. She carried it towards the living room, but before she could walk, she saw the roses Mulder brought her. They were stacked into a flower vase and were sadly sagging from the previous onslaught of the rain. She tried lifting up some of their petals, to no ado. She decided she'd keep them around for the night and then throw them out tomorrow … or keep some of the petals in her Bible.

She started moving to the living room. "Mulder, the tea's ready. Do you have extra clothes? I could …" she stopped in her tracks.

Mulder stood half-naked in her living room. But that wasn't surprising, despite their long separation – it was the sheer beauty of his nakedness. The large window he was standing before provided sheer lighting on his skin and the meager light that filtered through emphasized just the right places. She could see the outline of his nose as he moved his head to the sound of her voice, the plumpness of his lips that she kissed under the rain, the curves and ridges of the muscles under his shirt, the strong legs …

She stupidly had forgotten how beautiful he was.

Her grip on the folding table tightened as he shook off his wet shirt and tossed it into the pail. That was when she had the practical consciousness to put the table down and safely away from her so that she could stare at his naked back.
But it wasn't only his naked back that she kept staring at: there was a tattoo on his back. It was so large it practically covered the expanse of his skin, starting from the peak of his nape to the end of his spine, across one end of his shoulder blade to the other. What was more shocking was what it was: a cross that was very similar to her necklace.

She fingered her necklace in reflex as she suppressed a gasp. Mulder let her drink his nakedness in. He wasn't moving, he wasn't explaining. He could probably feel her eyes taking all of this in and he allowed her to do so.

"Mulder …" she said, swallowing hard after she heard her voice break. She drew forward, forgetting that it had been a year since they've last been together. She forgot everything that single moment and she reached out to trace her fingertips on his tattoo. He shivered underneath her feather-light touch.

She traced the sharp corners of the cross, mesmerized at the trail of rippling flesh her fingertips left behind. "Mulder, it's … breathtaking."

He raised his head; her fingertips reached the end of his spine. "I love you, you know; I've loved you all that time."

She moved closer, feeling like she was walking on fire. Everywhere it burned – her skin on his, the hot water waiting for them, the rain outside, his words, her heart. It all burned.
Scully stopped suffering from the cold. Finally, she felt alive.

With one gesture, she untangled the knot of her robe and shouldered it off. It fell to her feet and she kicked it away. She was now as naked as he was and there was nothing else to keep them apart. Scully conquered the remaining steps between them and pressed her front to his back, her arms snaking up to hold him by his shoulders. She rested her head on that cross, her cheek on where its lines intersected. She closed his eyes and savored the collective warmth of their bodies. When she felt Mulder's knees buckle against her thighs, she held him up with her arms.

"If you still love me, Mulder," she challenged, her voice as still as their bodies, "then why were you letting me go?"

"Because I love you," he calmly answered, though she could hear his breath quicken against her ear.

Scully shook her head. "You're not Jesus, Mulder. You can't save the world on your own. But if the truth is still out there, then it is up to us to find it. Together." She stood on her toes and kissed his nape, where the top of the cross was. "I'm willing, Mulder. We can go back to the US, to DC, after we regroup for sometime here. If you believe that the truth is in me, let's go back and find a way to expose that truth. Let's move forward. Together."

His hands came up and he rested them atop hers on his shoulders. He squeezed her fingers hard. "Why are you so good to me, Scully? After all I've done to you …"

"Because I love you," she answered back. She heard Mulder sigh and she broke her right hand free of his grasp to move it down to his cock. Scully felt him tense against her; she stopped, waited for him to move away or break free if in case he thought it was too fast, but he did nothing. After a second, she took his erection in her hands and was pleasantly surprised to find it throbbing and ready for her.

She closed her eyes and wrapped her fingers around its base, feeling through its girth from memory alone. She had mapped his body in her mind so many times before and kept the spots he loved being touched in her heart. Her hand moved up to its length, a fingertip finding its tiny hole, and gently, she began to pump him.

Mulder groaned loudly, squeezing her other hand in response, and encouraged, she pumped him harder – up and down, up and down, until his hips moved in tandem with her sweet asault. She could feel her body responding in turn – a surge of wetness overcame her insides and this settled on her entrance, as if asking permission to trickle down her legs.

The air around them was thick and heavy. She could smell herself in the hanging humidity and it excited her to realize that Mulder could probably smell her, too. He felt so good against her hand – nothing had changed, she believed, and it was a wondrous feeling that burned her core. In her head, she was now making new memories, new catalogues in her brain, but she was sure that this time, she wouldn't need to use them often. There would be more new memories to create together, more catalogues to start as one. This time around, she was sure he was never going to leave her alone with just those memories to comfort her at night. They were in this together - truly, finally.

Suddenly, Mulder turned around and severed their contact. With one pull on the hand that he was still holding in his own, he took her in his arms and carried her. Scully let him; he deserved every single part of her, even her weaknesses.

He kissed her forehead. "Your flat's floors are not carpeted, Scully. I miss Georgetown."

She threw her head back and laughed as they maneuvered to the bedroom. She didn't know which was funnier – his continued emphasis on "flat" or that he missed her old apartment. "No, you don't miss Georgetown. You missed me. You missed this."

Mulder growled his agreement.

They were inside her bedroom now. He placed her on the bed and climbed in with her, his body crushing hers. They both moaned as their skins came in contact with each other, her hard nipples pushing against the sparse hair of his chest. She instinctively opened her legs and allowed his erection to settle atop her sex.

Scully reached over to her side and tugged on her lamp. Immediately, soft yellow light flooded the corner of her bedroom and she could see his eyes once more. They were not hazel but dark, dark green – the green of grass after it had rained, the green of the forests at night, the green of life. She ran her fingers through his soft brown hair, once more memorizing those small bumps and scrapes she knew from their life together: this one, from Antarctica; that one, from Russia; this one, from that cow in Kansas; and her finger ran down the curve of her clavicle, to the faded scar on his left shoulder – this one, from her.

"I missed you," he choked out, before crushing his lips against hers.

This kiss was hungry, ravenous even, and she let herself be eaten alive by his desire. He nibbled on her neck, bit on her shoulder so hard she cried out and he soothed it with his tongue, down to raining kisses on her chest, on her breasts, licking her nipples, sucking one so hard it hollowed his cheeks, then biting it to emanate a moan from her throat. He transferred to her other breast while kneading the other, all the while grinding his erection against her thigh.

Scully thrashed her head from one side to another; she was tempted to lift her hips up and sink herself onto his cock to end the agony. Finally, he left her breasts and without warning, inserted one finger into her opening. Scully cried out in surprise.

"Fuck, you're so wet, Scully. All for me?"

She reached for his hair and pulled it so that he could look at her straight in the eye.

"All for you, all this time."

Mulder nodded and watched her face as he inserted another finger. She squirmed to protect her clit from his touch. Any kind of pressure on that sensitive spot would make her come. She wanted to make it last as long as she could for both of them tonight.

He pushed his fingers into her, making Scully jerk and loudly cry out his name, and then he pulled his fingers out. He closed his eyes and sucked them clean of her juices, making small mmmm sounds as he did. When he was done, he placed his hand on her hip and massaged her breast with the other. "I missed tasting you, Scully." He dipped his head from her reach and she knew what he was about to do.

However, she also was desperate to taste him.

"Mulder," she breathlessly called out. He paused and waited for her. "Mulder, come here, I need to taste you, too …"

He smirked. "Yes, my lady. Move here …"

"No," she grinned at him, "you on top."

He moaned at her suggestion. When he opened his eyes, there was fear in them. "Scully, I might choke you."

He wouldn't. She only needed to relax and it would be fine; when they first became intimate, it took Scully a while to get used to Mulder's size. He was probably the largest man she had ever slept with so it was no surprise that for the first few months, she was completely sore. However, as a medical doctor, she understood how resilient the human body was. If it desired to adjust to its mate, it would, and she waited for her tiny body to adjust to his much bigger one. After a few more weeks, they were finally a perfect fit. She knew her limitations and he knew his. Though they've never tried tasting each other this way, she recognized her body's limits. She could take him in.

"Come here, Mulder, let me taste you," she protested, and that was all it took.

Mulder angled his face directly atop her opening, while he bent his back a little so that she could reach his cock. He started by kissing her auburn curls and whispering, "beautiful" on her skin; she did the same on his penis and sucked his tip. In response, Mudler flattened his tongue on her clit and sucked her in too. Her hips bucked against his face; he placed a steadying hand on her thigh and began to lap at her lips, drinking in the wetness that spilled out of her. Scully returned the favor by taking all of him in her mouth. She relaxed her gag reflex and let him graze her throat – the way he liked it, she remembered. She bobbed her head up and down his length, making sure to curl her lips around her teeth because that was the way he liked it, too. Soon, she could feel him moaning incessantly against her vagina.
With one deep breath, she buried her nose into his pubic hair and Mulder involuntarily thrust into her. She tensed a bit, and then willed herself to open up her throat. She released him with a pop and reached up to lightly massage his balls.

Mulder placed one finger into her canal, as if testing her warmth, and continued to suck at her clit. Soon, she felt his cock pulsing in her mouth in time with her heartbeat.

"Scully, let's … I need to be inside you …" Mulder pushed himself off her. Scully nodded, thinking that this was indeed her Mulder, ever the gentleman.
He moved to her side, facing her, before pulling at her waist so that she could also face him. Scully smiled at Mulder, feeling the flush on her cheeks. This was their favorite position after they've had a fight; a reminder that they were equals no matter what kind of differences they just weathered together.

That evening, she knew what he was trying to tell her.

Their lips met once more, their tongues entangled with the taste of her sex, his sweat, their breaths, their raw feelings. Scully lifted her leg and placed it on his waist, and in one thrust, Mulder buried himself to the hilt inside her.

She gasped, surprised at how full she immediately was. This was something she never forgot, yet it always felt new to her whenever he entered her.

Mulder tenderly brushed hair away from her face and began to move inside her. He thrust once, as if adjusting himself in her, and then began to move in earnest. When he settled onto a familiar rhythm, they both moaned loudly.

He recovered first, placing light kisses on her cheeks, nose, eyes, lips. "Scully, I, I fucking love you. I'm sorry. I love you. I'm sorry."

The moans escaped her throat with abandon now. In between them, Scully made sure she got her point across: "Stop that, Mulder. If you apologize one more time, I'm going to shoot you."

He smirked, moaned, and then reached in between them to play with her clit. Scully leaned into his chest at the contact. Her eyes squeezed shut and she tried her best to control the orgasm that was curling at her belly. They needed to come together. She waited for this for so damn long …

"I'm near, Scully, god, you feel so fucking good. I'm almost there –" He wrapped his free arm around her body and pinned her against him. She was engulfed in a sea of Mulder and it felt so good to drown.

"I'm almost there, Mulder … oh fuck … I love you, love you," she shouted, grabbing onto his hair and pulling as her body climbed higher and higher.

With one last pinch on her clit, she lost it. She shuddered from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, her orgasm reverberating so hard in her inner muscles she was sure Mulder's cock was crushed in the process. He followed at once, holding her so tight there would be bruises tomorrow, and with one last thrust, she felt him expand within her as the last few tremors of her muscles died; he lost it and spilled everything into her.

His orgasm seemed to go on forever and she held onto him, waiting for him to finish, and when he did, he fell back on the bed with a loud whoosh of air from his lungs. He pulled her on top of him and she enjoyed feeling their slick, sated skins against each other. Just the way it should be: home.

Mulder stroked her hair as she fell into the deep lull of the rain outside. "We forgot about the tea," he said and she laughed again. She probably had laughed more than she had ever done this day than she had the past year.

"I'll boil water again later and we can have dinner with tea, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, before lowering his voice, "is … is it supposed to feel this right, Scully? You and me?"

She kissed his chest. "Yes, Mulder. I may not believe in a lot of what you believe in, but I do believe in us. I think we can agree on that, right?"

"Yes, we can … but where do we go from here?"

Scully lifted her head to meet his eyes. She placed her chin on his chest and they stared at each other. She couldn't help herself as she reached up to push back that errant lock of hair on his forehead.
"Forward, Mulder. As always. Forward. Together, this time."

He grinned his boyish smile, that one she loved so much, that one she believed helped sustain her love for him despite all the pain the past year. "Together, okay?"

"Okay, Mulder." She bent her head back to his chest and closed her eyes. She'd sleep for a while and then when she woke up maybe an hour later, she could cook something …

Ring. Ring.

"Fuck," Scully muttered, pushing herself off of Mulder's body. Mulder's eyes were closed but he opened his arms so that she could move.

"Do you have to answer that now?" he whined. She ran her fingers through her hair and kissed him quickly on the lips.

"Yeah, it may be mom or Charlie. They call regularly since I'm so far from them." She reached over her bedside and grabbed the extension. "Hello?"

Underneath her, Mulder moved their bodies so that she could get into a more comfortable position. She dropped her chest on the pillow beside his face to reach the phone, while his fingers lazily traced the tattoo on her lower back.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Dana. How are you?"

"Hey, mom," she said into the receiver, giving Mulder a knowing look. He shrugged and continued playing with her skin. "It's late here. What made you call?"

"How did it go?" Trust her mom to not be shy about demanding updates. "Did you see Fox?"

She suppressed a giggle, looking down at Mulder who was contentedly humming against her breasts. "Yes, I did."

"And?"

"And what, mom?"

"What did you talk about?"

Scully rolled her eyes. "Mom, why don't you ask him yourself, since you two have been quite chummy the past year?"

"Dana? What are you …"

She didn't let her mom finish. She thrust the phone into Mulder's ear and held it firmly to his face. Mulder was startled for a second, then had the presence of mind to immediately greet with a feeble, "Hi, Mrs. Scully."

She listened to Mulder's side of the conversation with piqued interest, imagining what her mom must be saying on the other line as Mulder mumbled phrases: "Yes, yes … she knows … she does know about that, too … yes, we talked about that … she's doing great here … umm, yeah, I'm at her flat. We got wet from the rain … umm, yeah … no, I'm, I'm staying here … for a while, yeah … no, thank you for everything … can I see you soon when you come here? Yeah … that'll be great … do you want to talk to Dana some more? Oh, tomorrow? Okay, good night from Oxford, Mrs. Scully." He pressed the phone's button and handed it to Scully. She settled it back to its cradle.

"Quite chummy, indeed," she teased, pushing her body back down so that it was her head that rested beside his face. He smiled at her again. That smile. She would never get enough of it.

"She was my friend when everything went into the deep end last year." He reached for her cross necklace and played with it for a while, twirling it around his thumb and watching it glow against her flushed skin.
After a while, he yawned, and in reflex, she yawned, too. "Gosh, looks like we'll forget about dinner and tea tonight."

"There's always tomorrow, Mulder." She nuzzled his neck and felt her eyelids becoming heavy. Yes, indeed, there will always be tomorrow.

"Scully?"

"Mhmmm?"

"You're so warm," he stopped tracing shapes on her lower back and clasped both of her hands into his own. "Your hands are warm, Scully." He intertwined their fingers together. They slept that way, both contented in the truth that not one of them was ever letting go.

END OF DRUGSTORE JESUS

AFN: I had to rewrite this final chapter; I just HAD to. It was like a challenge in my head: there had to be a tattooed Mulder (can you visually imagine how hot it would be for Mulder to have a huge ass cross tattoo on his back? Then he'd only be illuminated by the light from Scully's window … wheeew); there needed to be legit smut (which I couldn't really write when I first wrote this fic because I was only 14 then); and Mrs. Scully had to call and talk to Mulder on Scully's phone. So there. Thanks for reading and reviewing – and do let me know what you think about the extreme changes I wrought upon this story!

"Drugstore Jesus" by Plumb:

Take the blame for saving lives
You've got the sunset in your eyes
And you've got the glory on your mind
Your good intentions are hard to find

You're drugstore jesus
The miracle is gone
You're drugstore jesus
A saint for everyone
You've thrown your soul away

All your gold turns to dust
And all your masses lose your trust
This grand illusion, this planned confusion
This substitution is tainted love

In a world turned upside down
Can the truth be turned around?
In a world turned upside down
Can the truth be turned around?