Title: Tango of Awakening
Author: Kate K.
E-Mail: kkeene@neosoft.com
Website: http://kkeene.tripod.com/
Category: Gen/Het
Rating: NC-17
Summary: For the benefit of sevr'l readers,a tale of love and passion.
Disclaimers: This tale is to in no way infringe on the copyrights of Mr.(s) Carter, Spotnitz, Gilligan or Shiban. Hopefully this might annoy them just a little bit. However, there is only admiration and regard for the fine work of Ms. Anderson, Mr. Braidwood, Mr. Harwood, Mr. Duchovny, The Lady Who Plays Yves Whose Name I Can’t Spell But Is Awfully Cool, Mr. Snedden, and Mr. Haglund.
Notes: All Recordings and Videos concerning the Tango and the Music of Astor Piazzolla do exist and should be owned by all tango affectionatos.

A mirror of Tango del Amore

Dedicated to James P. Doyle – beloved

O God

Let all lovers be content

Give them happy endings

Let their lives be celebrations

Let their hearts dance in the fire of your love!

Rumi – “Aroused Passion”

            Dana Scully arrived home, with a bustle of shopping bags.  Humming happily to herself, she went into her bedroom and set the bags on the bed.  She slid off her coat and threw it over a chair, and kicked off her shoes.  She reached into a drawer, pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a tshirt and tossed them on the bed.  She took off her work suit, hung it up and then tossed her blouse in with her dry cleaning.  Undressed to her bra and panties, she padded back to the bed.

            Going to the bed she reached for her tshirt, but instead her hand passed by to pick up the bag from Pilazzo’s Shoes. Smiling with excitement, she sat on the bed and she opened the box.  A new pair of black tango shoes was nestled in the tissue inside.  Dana lifted them out.

            They looked uncomfortable, with the cross straps.  However, the heel was wide and very sturdy.  The soles were amazingly flexible.  Dana slid one on.  The butter soft leather moved like a veil over her foot.  She put on the other shoe and held out her feet.  There was no doubt about it, these were the sexiest shoes she’d ever had.

            Reaching into another bag, she pulled out a new CD.  Tearing off the cellophane, she hurried into her front room and turned her stereo on.  Within seconds, Five Tango Sensations was playing. 

            Dana closed her eyes to the music.  The music didn’t roll out with a thunder like the Salsa and Flamenco music she was used to hearing.  The tango music seemed to crawl out like a fog, as a mist slowly, sensually moving out and caressing her.  Without percussion, the melody moved like water, the strings and the bandoneon ebbing and flowing in waves.  She moved over to her open floor by her desk and tried to move along with it. It wasn’t easy, since the dancer moved with the melody rather than moving to the rhythm beat like most dances.  She’d watched the dance, seen the precise ritual movements and thought it was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever seen.  And soon, she would be able to dance it herself, she reminded herself.

            She wasn’t going to stay home this Saturday night, working on an article and subconsciously wait for Mulder to drag her out for parts unknown.  Dana wasn’t going to be home to watch the inevitable bad Saturday night television, dinner on the table in front of the sofa and telephone checkup conversation with her mother.  No, not this Saturday!  She was going to be where there were other people, music and dancing.  She was going out and she was going to have a good time.

            Dana had learned that the Community Center was hosting tango lessons.  She’d gone to her favorite coffee bar a couple of weeks ago and there was a tango demonstration going on.  The Tango Appreciation Society had roped off three parking spaces in front of the coffee shop and three couples were dancing in passionate movement.  After a few dances, one of the men had passed out flyers to the appreciative audience.         

            She’d kept the flyer in her purse for days, looking over it again and again before she’d finally decided.  It was something so novel, so new to her.  However, it was just so blessedly normal, ordinary, without a hint of dark hidden secrets and life threatening dangers.  When was the last time she’d just gone out to do something not work related that was other than family obligations?  She couldn’t even remember. 

            It had been fun just shopping for the class.  Getting the shoes and buying the top and skirt she was going to wear.  Who knows?  Maybe she’d meet some new people.  Maybe some sensual Latino would sweep her off her feet.  She giggled at the idea.  Not likely, she admitted, but maybe she’d find someone nice to have fun evening with.

            She just wanted to do something that would allow her to be Dana for a while.  Not Agent Scully, but just Dana. 

            Humming along, still undressed, she danced alone.

            The butterflies in Dana’s stomach didn’t start until the drive to the Community Center.  As she parked the car, suddenly she felt an anxiety she hadn’t felt since she was a nervous teenager starting yet another school after her parents had moved to a new base.  The being-the-new-kid feeling.  She refused to let it paralyze her. 

            I never realized how much being an Agent helped, she thought.  When I’m on the clock, I can walk in anywhere- they don’t call the badge a ‘shield’ for nothing...  Now, I’m just another new student.  Well, Dana, isn’t that what you wanted?  God, I hope I’m not making a mistake.

            She walked into the Center, chin held high.  She signed up, paid the money and put on her ‘Hi My Name Is Dana’ nametag.  After putting her purse and coat into a cubicle she turned to the crowd.  It was more crowded than she had expected.  There were between forty and fifty people there, and not a single familiar face.  Though the crowd had a mixing of ages and ethnic backgrounds, her eyes seemed to be unerringly drawn over and over to tall, dark-haired women with flashing eyes and long legs – laughing and confident on the arms of their partners.  Women wearing tighter, lower cut tops and shorter skirts than she would have ever dared.  Suddenly she felt very short, poorly dressed and awkward.  An unpleasant memory rose of dance lessons in school, of being the last one picked, because she was the tomboy, she was shorter, she was the brain, etc… the humiliation of having the teacher turn to her and asking, “Dana?  Would you be my partner?”

            People were coupling up.  No one approached her.  Dana considered slipping away before she was noticed, rather than risking not being noticed at all.  As she turned back and glanced towards the door, she thought she saw a familiar movement.  A man came into the edge of her vision.  He was small, dressed in a red shirt, black pants and vest, and a black fedora.  Then he lifted a hand up slightly and she saw that he was wearing black finger-less gloves.

            Frohike?  She took a step closer and got a clearer view of him.  Yes, it was Frohike.  What was he doing here?   

            The diminutive Gunman strode to the table where the sign in sheet was and quickly wrote his name and paid.  He hesitated a moment over the nametags, but finally printed his name and slapped it on his vest.  He turned to the group, looking without really seeing, he obviously hadn’t expect to see anyone he knew.  She moved towards him, heart beating fast.

            “Frohike?”

            He turned around, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Scully?”  He squinted at her, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. 

            Relaxing a bit, she gave him a shy smile and walked to him.  “Hi.  I was about ready to go home.  I didn’t think I’d be nervous, but when I got here and didn’t see anyone I knew,” she glanced down at her feet, embarrassed. “I started to panic.”

            “Hey, that’s okay.” He said gently.  His hand went to hers, giving it a warm squeeze that comforted her. “No need for that now.  I think we’ve known each other for quite a while.”

            Dana sighed with relief.  “Yes, we have, haven’t we?”  She bit her lip, worrying it slightly.  Flustered, she said with a rush, “Frohike, look…I don’t have a partner…”

            Before she could finish, he took off his hat and made a sweeping bow. “Miss Scully, I would be honored if you would dance with me this evening.”

            Dana repressed an urge to giggle and curtsey.  However, she couldn’t stop the blush that rose to her cheeks as she gave him her other hand. 

            As the instructors called the class to order, Dana’s preconceived notion of a dark Latin dancer guiding the class was banished.  Their teacher was a tall, blond and probably gay man named Scott.  His partner was a cheerful, dark haired, willowy woman named Carol.  The talked about the tango, its origins in the brothels and clubs of the disadvantaged Argentines, how it became popular by slumming higher classes, and now was played in concert halls all over the world.

            They led the class through some exercises, to help isolate the body’s movements.  They explained that this was particularly important since the upper body is kept still, while the lower body moves much more freely. She shared a grin with Frohike as they practiced moving their rib cage and upper back from left to right while keeping the hips still. Dana felt her lower back pop as she did the hips circles and leg rotations.  Then the partners embraced to go through the first real steps.  Carol showed the ladies how to step forward and back, leading with the hips, moving on the balls of their feet, as Scott showed the men how to support their partners and counterbalance.  Dana relaxed more and more as she got the hang of it.

            As Dana became more comfortable with the moves, she was able to give a little more attention to her partner.  Soon she realized that Frohike was doing the exercises and movements easily, almost effortlessly.  It was clear he was far more experienced with all of this than herself.  At first, the idea triggered off the nerves again, and she tripped on the edge of his foot.  Rather than looking impatient, he smiled reassuringly at her, and her nerves settled again.  His supporting hand on the small of her back made her feel anchored.  She enjoyed the grace of his movement and the confidence in which he held her. 

            Scott turned to them and singled out Frohike, delighted with his movements.  “You must have learned from an Argentine teacher.  You’re quite experienced.”

            “Uh, yeah, I used to dance some years back.  Though the teacher I learned from was Cuban.” Frohike replied; sounding somewhat embarrassed by the attention.

            Scott explained that the tango, like all dances has variations to its form depending on the area in which it is taught.  The traditional Argentine form of the dance has a lot of improvisation and intricate footwork.  He happily asked Frohike to demonstrate some steps to the men of the class with Carol.  Frohike glanced at Dana, and she smiled encouragingly. 

            Frohike stepped to the center and tendered a hand to Carol, who took it with a smile.  With Scott giving instructions, Frohike and Carol moved gracefully, showing the basic steps with flair.  He danced very well with Carol, despite the difference in their height.  Dana was very impressed.  She never would have thought that Frohike, her unusual friend who she had trouble envisioning not huddled behind some form of electronics, was such a marvelous dancer. 

            Scott talked to the class as they danced, pointing out positions, explaining that in the tango even though the man’s role is called ‘leader’ and the woman’s ‘follower’, both partners take turns ‘leading’ at different moments.  Since their steps aren’t always mirrored – unlike other ballroom dances- this makes the dance much more intense, as neither partner is considered passive even though the man is thought of as ‘dominant’.  It adds to the passion and beauty of the dance.  Which is what makes it more sexual, Dana thought.

            Frohike pulled Carol close and gave a slight dip.  He met Dana’s eyes over Carol’s shoulder as he pulled his partner back up.  Dana smiled.  Scott thanked Frohike for his assistance and let him return to Dana’s side.  She noticed that all the women’s eyes were on him, reassessing him as he walked back across the floor to her.  However, Frohike only looked at her, smiling, obviously pleased at having impressed her.  She realized with a shock that she felt a small bloom of satisfaction that the best dancer in the class was her partner.  A man who had eyes only for her.

            She blushed as he took her hand again.  She didn’t dare say a word in case she might stammer. She kept her eyes lowered, watching her feet, awkward again.  Then she got her steps backward and tripped. 

            “Don’t look down.” Frohike said softly.

            “What?”  Dana looked up.

            “Don’t look at your feet, you’re more likely to get them backward.  Just relax, look at me.” His voice was soft and patient.  “Just step forward- right, now left.  Move to the right, yeah, side, side.  Good, now back, right, now left.  Shift on the ball of your foot, not the heel.  That’s right.  See, you’ve got it.”

            Dana shook off her discomfiture and concentrated on what she was doing.  Following his guide, her steps became smoother.  She relaxed more, listening to the music and his voice and letting her body follow.             

            “Everyone!” Scott called for attention. “Okay, Carol and I want to thank everyone for coming.  We think we have a wonderful group for this new class series.  We’ll see you next week!  The Center is now open for dancing until midnight!  So keep practicing!”

            Everyone clapped in response.  Dana saw some couples moving to gather coats and purses and new couples moved onto the floor.  She noticed that though Frohike hadn’t taken his hand from her back, but he hadn’t moved to start dancing again.  He was giving her an opening, she realized, in case she wanted to go.  She didn’t.  She reached out and took his hand again.  Taking the lead, she stepped forward.  He stepped back and took the lead again, propelling her to the side with a smooth arc.  Even though she was still a little clumsy, she went with the flow, letting herself go.

            Dana danced on and on, enjoying herself more and more.  Frohike was endlessly patient and gentle.  It was so nice to dance with someone close to her own height, rather than having to hyper-extend her steps for her partner’s long legs like she usually did.  She felt like she was really dancing rather than just galloping along trying to keep up.  Frohike’s hand stayed centered on her lower back between her hips and her shoulder blades, rather than creeping up between her shoulders.  It was so comfortable, how they fit together. 

            Her feet were getting tired.  Her legs were getting tired.  Even her arms were getting tired.  She ignored her body’s protesting.  She’d just take ibuprofen tomorrow and be sore.  She didn’t want the evening to end now.  She was having fun...she was really having fun. 

The music stopped at twelve.  Once again they were thanked for coming and were asked to return next week. She turned to Frohike, disappointed to see the night end.

            “Uh, Scully?” 

            Dana was sure he was blushing.  Frohike?  The man who could tease and flirt with her mercilessly?  Blushing?

            “May I…treat you to coffee?”  He stammered out.

            She smiled softly and blurted out the truth. “I’d like that.”

            Frohike drove ahead; leading her through winding streets to a neighborhood that Dana was unfamiliar with.  This surprised her, she expected him to turn into the parking lot of the nearest Starbucks.  Finally, he pulled up and parked.  She drew in behind him.  He walked to her door and waited while she got out of her car.  With a touch to her elbow he led her through a pair of doors with “Cuban Flame – Open 24 hours” flashing in neon above them. 

            The interior was a combination of Victorian architecture and fifties diner style.  The oak bar looked about a hundred years old, but the tables and booths were Formica with gingham vinyl table cloths.  Glancing behind the bar, Dana saw a wider variety of tequila and rums than she knew existed.  The ceiling over head was covered with Victorian tin tiles, painted brown. 

            The smell of cooking food was heavenly, even though she wasn’t very hungry.  Frohike led them to a booth.  Dana slid in, the leather seat felt soft and stretched under her.  It was intoxicatingly comfortable.  She smiled in appreciation.  Frohike gave her a shy grin.  “I hope you don’t mind coming here.  It’s one of my favorite dives.  The food here is incredible.”

            “It smells it.  I’m not that hungry, though.”  She said wistfully.

            “Coffee good for you?”

            “That would be wonderful.”

            The waitress was a bone skinny black woman with hair wound up with a vivid headscarf.  She greeted them with heavy Spanish accent, set down two glasses of water and held out menus.

            “Café con Leche?  And Forticas de Moron.” Frohike told her.

            “Dos?”  The waitress held up two fingers.

            “Si, gracias.”

            “Bueno.”  She walked away.

            “You speak Spanish.” Dana observed.

            “Yeah, I took it in school, and then when I lived in Miami, I used it all the time.  I’m out of practice though.  Do you know languages?”

            “I have some college German.  I wish I knew more.”  Dana took her water and drank gratefully.  “But it’s still come in handy.”

            He sipped his own water.  “What brought you to the class?”

            Dana explained about seeing the demonstration at the coffee shop and being taken with it.  “It’s just so beautiful and so intense.  I just wanted to see if I could do it.  The music is just so haunting.  What about you?”

The waitress returned with two steaming mugs and a pair of plates.  The first sip of the Cuban coffee was sweet, intense and flavorful.  It was like a heavily sweetened expresso, mixed with hot milk.  It was rich and good.  The plates held a small handful of sugar cookies.

            Frohike told her about living in Miami, learning the tango and then becoming competitive dancer there.  As he mentioned his old partner, Nikita, she got the hint of a lost love story and said as much.

            “Yeah, she tried to hold on, but I’m a lone wolf.” He gave her one of his outrageous grins.

            She masked her humor with a quirk of her lips and a raised eyebrow.

            Frohike dropped his eyes first and looked abashed. “Well, maybe it wasn’t quite like that.  When we danced together and when we were alone, I adored her.  We moved so perfectly together, as if we could read each others’ minds.  There was all this anticipation, all this buildup…and then the reality was a huge Cuban family all wanting to know my intentions, an Uncle owning a laundry business with room to grow in, and a mama with a big bad case of Grandma fever.”  He took a sip of his coffee.  “Too long with them and the room started to spin, the lights went dark, and it got really hard to take deep breaths.”

            “So, you left the dance floor?” She teased.

            “You betcha!” 

            She fell back in her seat, laughing with him.  Taking a cookie, she nibbled it, trying to gather her thoughts.  The flavor was interesting; the cookies were made with a dash of lime.  It was familiar and exotic all at once.  After she collected herself, Dana turned thoughtful.  “I understand.  When I was with Jack, it would have been so easy to stay with him and become the FBI team marriage.  It was so neat and smooth, almost like it was expected of me.  It would have been simpler to take it rather than risk finding out what I wanted…who this new person Agent Scully really was.” 

            Frohike nodded with a smile.  “Well, if it helps, I’m glad I got to meet her.”

            She smiled back. “So am I.”

            Too soon, Dana realized it was going on two o’clock.  The conversation had come so easily; she’d lost track of time.  Frohike walked her back to her car.  As she unlocked her door, he cleared his throat.  She turned to him as he extended his hand. “I had a lovely time.”

            She took his hand and shook it, smiling.  “So did I.”

            Dana looked at him for a moment, waiting for him to say something more.  He didn’t.  He stepped back so she could get in the car.  As she drove away, she’d wished she’d asked if he was going to be back next week.  

            As she went to sleep she wondered what it would have been like if he’d kissed her goodnight.

            The next day, Dana took ibuprofen, elevated her feet and rested on the sofa. She alternately watched television and read, not really taking either in.  She found herself replaying the events of last night over and over in her mind.  She had such a good time.  Being with Frohike had been an unexpected, but welcome pleasure.  She had been so amazed by his talent at dancing, and how easy he’d been to talk to afterwards.  She’d had a better time last night than her last several dates put together. 

            Wait a moment, Dana!  She thought.  Date?  Where did that come from?  That wasn’t a date.  That was a friend coming to her rescue and then going out for a coffee.  That wasn’t a date.  Then why did it feel like one?  It shouldn’t.  Neither of them had asked to be there, they had just run into each other.  That’s not a date.

            She remembered her late night wondering about a goodnight kiss.  She shook her head at herself.  That was just a fancy, and a silly one at that.  Besides, she’d kissed him before. Last Christmas, he’d worn this silly hat that suspended a sprig of mistletoe over the head of anyone who stood directly in front of him, well, if they weren’t exceptionally tall.  She had laughed, leaned in and kissed him.  She half expected him to kiss her excessively passionate in return, but he hadn’t.  He’d grinned and then gave her a soft press of his lips.  It had been a little more than a peck, but still chaste and polite.  It had been sweet.

            Of course, there had been Las Vegas.  Inwardly she still cringed with embarrassment when she thought of that.  Dana had kissed him then, too. He hadn’t kissed her back, hadn’t taken advantage of her drugged and alcohol altered state. That self-restraint had only made her feel safe to flirt even more wildly with him.  She’d licked his ear, kissed his neck. When his back was turned, she pinched him on the behind.  She still giggled and blushed at the memory of that.  He never seemed to hold the incident against her.  He’d even teased her about it, calling her ‘Party Girl’.

            Dana had always liked Frohike.  He made her laugh with his outrageous flirting.  He’d brought flowers to her when she was in the hospital.  He’d always been ready and willing to help whenever she and Mulder asked.  He’d told her the truth about Diane Fowley, even when Mulder wouldn’t.

 They were friends.  There was nothing wrong with having a good time with a friend, was there?  Even when it was unexpected?

Dana’s phone rang and she jumped with a start.  Sitting up, she grabbed the phone. “Hello?”

“Dana, it’s me.”

“Hi, Mom.”  Dana smiled at hearing her mom’s voice; it was like drawing a warm quilt over herself.

“How did your class go?  I know you were looking forward to it.”

“It went great.  I was really nervous at first, but one of my friends was there and we danced together.”  She relaxed back onto the couch.

“Oh, that’s nice.  Was it anyone I know?” Her mom asked.

“No, mom, I don’t think so.” Dana searched her memory, but couldn’t remember them meeting. “I had a good time.”  She confessed with pleasure.

“I’m so glad you had a nice time.  I think it’s so good you’re getting out and doing this.  Is it fun?  The tango looks so hard, Dana. Are you going to go again? With your friend?”

“I am.  I don’t know if he’ll be there or not.” Dana thought about it, and just told the truth. “I hope so.  It is hard, but it’s so much fun.”  Still smiling, she told her mom about the class.

Dana drove to the Community Center in a cloud of nervous anticipation.  Several times during the long slow week she’d been tempted to call Frohike, to find out if he would be coming again.  Every time she stopped herself.  The classes were something she was doing for herself.  She couldn’t let her enjoyment become dependant on the actions of another person.  At least, that’s what she told herself.  It sounded so much more self-assuring that admitting that she was scared that he might say no, and it risked taking all the magic out of the dances for her.

She’d replayed that night over and over all week.  Snippets of the sensuous music would flow through her head and she would hum them under her breath.  She’d be drinking her coffee and thinking over what she and Frohike had talked about at the café afterwards, losing her attention until she realized that she hadn’t heard a thing Mulder had said to her.

In the evenings she’d practiced her steps in her apartment.  In her mind she was dancing with him again, fitting together so well.  She hoped this time she’d be less clumsy and more in harmony with the music and with him.  She hoped he’d come again. She’d feel more comfortable with him than with a stranger.  Maybe they could go for coffee and talk some more…

She wore the same sleeveless turquoise top and black wrap skirt she had worn last week.  They had felt reassuring to her as she slipped them on.  Putting on the shoes again had given her glow of excitement.

Dana went inside the Center.  Again, she put her coat and purse in a cubicle and gave her money.  This time, a nametag was already prepared for her.  Carol, the instructor’s partner, walked over to her.

“Dana, hello!”  Carol smiled at her. “I’m so glad you came back!  Is Frohike,” she stumbled a little over the name, “returning too?”

“I haven’t talked to him today.” Dana evaded. “I was planning to meet him here.”

“You two danced so well together. I know you’re a novice, so it must be helping to be with such an experienced partner.  He’s so good, and you’re showing a lot of promise.”

“Yes, he is.  Are you sure?  I thought I was awfully clumsy.”  Dana was warmed by the unexpected praise. 

“Oh, we all are at first, don’t try to expect perfection!  This is a very physical dance.  You have to really trust and connect with your body.  That takes a little time.  You’re doing just fine.”  Carol told her kindly.  “Would you excuse me?  More students.”

Dana nodded.  As her instructor moved away, she saw Frohike coming in the door.  She sighed, in half pleasure and half relief.  He looked around, looking for her, she suspected. His face lit up as his eyes found her.  He appeared to be as happy to see her as she was to see him.  Suddenly, she wondered if he’d been thinking over the week with the same hope?  Then it struck her how he was gazing at her.  He seemed to be looking at her with more than welcome; it was as if he was looking at her with longing.

He’s checking me out, Dana thought, He’s really checking me out.  He really likes the look of me. He isn’t just teasing, he thinks I look hot.

The awareness both thrilled and unnerved her.  She hoped to high heaven that she wasn’t blushing as she gave him a friendly smile.

            “Hey, Scully.” He said happily.  “I was hoping you’d be here.”

            “I’m glad to see you, too.  I really enjoyed the last class.  I wanted to dance again.  I’ve been practicing at home all week.” She admitted.

            “Would you give me the pleasure of being your partner?”  He asked, taking off his hat and offering his arm.

            “Yes, I will.” She slipped her hand through his arm. “Oh, and Frohike?”

            “Yes?” 

            “Call me Dana, would you?  You might never know it, but I actually like my name.”  She gave him a wry grin.

The look in his eyes, it was as if she’d given him a gift.  “Okay, sure, Dana.” 

The class was called to order before anything else could be said.

Tonight, the instructors had them move in circle now, counterclockwise across the floor. Scott explained how novice dancers tend to keep more toward the center and the more experienced dancers moved to the outer spiral, where they had more room to improvise in.  It was part of tango etiquette.

Dana found though she still wasn’t as smooth and as easy with the dance as she had hoped; she was far less awkward than she’d been last week.  She was able to add a little more flair to her steps, raising her feet higher and shifting her balance on the balls her feet with more ease. She was still struggling to find the flow with the music and still remember where to place herself, but it seemed more within her reach.

            She was more conscious of Frohike now, rather than fretting so much about her own awkwardness.  He was gentle and calming, moving with care.  She knew that he was reining in his own dancing, but there was no hint of impatience in his body or movements.  He seemed more at ease in his skin than she was in hers. Dana lived in her mind so much, that simply being physical was demanding for her.  It was as if he flowed in his body, rather than demanding its obedience as she was trying to do with hers. She envied that.

            As the class moved around and around, she realized that they were drawing closer together.  The music was at a faster tempo than last week, pushing the pace.  She started whipping her steps around his feet, from the middle to the outside with a flourish.  The second time she tried it, she brushed his shoe and almost tripped, but he winked at her and she had to swallow a giggle. 

            “Whoops, almost!  Try it again, Dana!” Encouraged Scott as he moved by with Carol.

            Dana tried again, this time swaying her body more with the step.  This time it went perfectly. 

            Again, the feel of his hand on her back made her feel grounded.  It rested there with just enough firmness to make her feel supported, but not enough to feel restricted.  His hand holding hers just gave a light press to guide, but not compel.  The ease in which he held her helped drain some of her own tenseness away.  As they moved closer though, she suddenly became more aware of the heat of their bodies, the vibration of the movements, the careful attention he paid to her.  It was so focused, that it heightened the intensity of the dance for her.

            Dana suddenly remembered the other thing that made the tango so sexual, the eye contact.  The partners look into each other’s faces, in their eyes, for most of it.  When, other than making love, do we make such constant eye contact? She wondered.

            She noticed his eyes, as if she were seeing them for the first time.  They were green in this light, warm and rich, flashing with intelligence and concentration.   She didn’t want to break the gaze and let her body simply move on its own, flowing around him, keeping her attention on his face.  It was as if the dance was beginning and ending here, between their eyes.

            When it ended, Dana breathed deeply.  She felt a little dizzy.  She wondered if he’d been as caught up in those moments as she had been.  She didn’t dare ask.  She simply smiled, and he smiled warmly back.  With that, she felt safe again, though exhilarated. 

            Too soon, class was over, and open dancing began.  Once again, they stayed by unspoken assent. 

            It seemed only natural to return to the café again.  Once again, Frohike led the way in his car and she followed in hers.  They found parking spaces in front, under the hissing neon sign.  As she was gathering up her purse, he opened her car door for her and offered her a hand out.  Going into the place, he opened the door for her.

            She was starving.  She’d been so nervous wondering about the class that she’d only picked at her dinner.  She looked over the unfamiliar dishes on the menu, wondering what to pick.  “What’s simple?”

            “Would you like me to pick something?  Do you like seafood?  Or chicken?”  He asked.

            “Would you mind?  Chicken is fine, seafood would be awfully rich this late.” 

            “How about a beer?”

            “Only if you want me to risk falling asleep at the table.” 

            He ordered Arroz con Pollo for the both of them, with iced tea. 

            Dana leaned back, relaxing against the comfortable leather of the booth.  She normally didn’t like it when men did these things, ordering for her, holding doors.  In her experience, men tended to do these things as a method of controlling the situation.  However, she knew Frohike wasn’t like that.  He was just interested in pleasing her.  She wasn’t used to liking it.

            The tea came first, with lime in it instead of lemon.  Dana sipped it gratefully.  Before the silence could get awkward, he spoke first.

            “You’re practicing is paying off.  You’re doing really well with the dance.”  He poured a little sugar into his tea, and then offered the jar to her.

            “Did you think so?  I’m still a bit clumsy, but I think I’m starting to get the hang of it.”  She poured her sugar and stirred it in.  “I almost called you this week, to see if you were coming back again.”

            Frohike set down his own spoon.  He looked at her with a wry grin. “I, uh, almost called you too.”

            For some reason, this stuck her funny.  She chuckled, and he followed suite.  She clinked her glass against his.  “Great minds think alike.”

            Suddenly everything was comfortable again.  They chatted about current events, politics, and things going on in Washington.  Again, Dana was pleasantly surprised.  Most of the men she knew got weary of the Washington scene at work and either didn’t wish to talk about it or only wanted to hear her parrot back their own opinions.  Maybe it was due to his slightly paranoid and rather cynical outlook, but Frohike looked at political matters over carefully.  He listened to her views attentively, occasionally nodding in agreement or raising his eyebrows in quizzled surprise.

            The waitress moved in silently and then a steaming plate of chicken and rice was in front of Dana.  Warm steam and the heavenly smell rose up to her nose.  The chicken and rice had been cooked in a tomato sauce with garlic and spices.  The spicy flavor exploded in her mouth.  It was thirsty, but excellent.

            She mentioned that she had enjoyed their last cover story about exposing the former Nazi agent.  Soon he had her rolling with laughter over his undercover antics, impersonating a woman’s long lost son and skittering around her house trying to look at her butt for a birthmark in the shape of Germany.

            “I was so relieved when we found out it wasn’t her, but her neighbor.  She’s a nice old lady.  It was a big disappointment for her when she realized that she’d been used by that woman.”  He looked down.  “And by us, second hand.”

            “Do you still go see her?”  Scully asked.

            “Yeah, I’ve gone to see her a couple of times.  She gives me some strudel to take back to the guys.”  He smiled fondly.  “We’ve tried to look into where her real son might be, but nothing’s turned up so far.”

            “That’s so sad.”  She reached over and squeezed his hand. “But you’re trying to help.”

            “Small comfort, though.”

            He picked the check up, but when she handed him a ten for her share, he refused.  She protested. “No, let me pay my half.”

            “No, I’ve got it.  Look, you can pay next time.” 

            Finally she nodded, and tucked the ten back into her wallet.  He walked her out to her car, just as he did last week.  She smiled goodnight to him.  “I had a great time.”

            “Yeah, me too.”  He held out a hand.  She shook it, then drew it a little closer.  Impulsively, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his cheek.

            “See you next week, Frohike.”  She got in her car.  He stood on the sidewalk and watched her drive away, waiting until she was at the end of the block before turning away.

            What had she been thinking?  Dana tossed and turned in bed the next morning.  Was it just that it felt like a date to her that she just wanted to act like it was?  The urge to kiss him had just been so sudden and she’d just moved with it.  She could still feel the softness of the skin under her lips, the slight brush of whisker, the slight tang of his cologne.

            She sat up in bed. There had been the soft and smoky smell of cologne on his face.  She wracked her memory and she couldn’t remember the scent of it on him before.  And his beard, it had been shorter than normal.  He’d shaved and put on cologne before coming to the center to be with her.

            Dana smiled and shook her head.  Was Frohike feeling the same way she was?  It was reasonable, if he were going to spend the evening with a woman he would take extra care with his grooming, wasn’t it?  It wasn’t like they were just sitting around watching a movie or fixing the computer.  That didn’t mean that he thought it was date or anything.  She’d probably embarrassed him with her kiss.

            And yet…

            He opened the doors, and offered his arm.  He’d ordered for them, taking care to get something she’d enjoy. He was attentive to her and polite.  He’d been more than just gentlemanly; at least that’s what it felt like. 

being less of herself.  Maybe it was just her tomboy streak, she wasn’t sure.  That was why in Las Vegas, after the drugs had taken affect she’d been, well, liberated from the usual restrictions she placed on herself.  She had actually been doing it, being silly and flirtatious, being the sex kitten, the thing that other women were able to do so easily.  It wasn’t the real her, but none of the men in that bar had known or cared.  They had all been surrounding her, begging for her attention.  Frohike hadn’t been fooled for a second.  He’d swept in and took the measure of the situation.  Then he’d rescued her, snatched her away and upstairs.  All the time when she’d been addled and sexy, he’d been unmoved. 

            Had she moved him now?  With just her real self?

            Dana swept back the covers and got up.  She was making far too much of this.  Okay, she was enjoying herself.  She was finding his company appealing and there were things about him that were attracting her.  Just let yourself be happy and have fun, Dana.  There’s no reason to analyze it death.  She told herself firmly.  There’s a whole week before you see him again, try to get a hold of yourself.

            The week passed and Saturday arrived.  To Dana’s chagrin, she still showed no signs of getting a hold of herself.  Thank goodness, all that had needed to be done at work that week was grunt work, phone calls and updates.  She was getting so cheerful at the office that Mulder asked her if she was taking Prozac.  At lunchtime, she’d been going over to the park and listening to tango music on the portable CD player as she ate her sandwiches.

            She spent this afternoon shopping.  She found a sleeveless teal linen blouse that could alternate with the turquoise top in her dance outfit.  She went to three separate shops looking for a new perfume.  Finally, she came across an interesting one.  It was a scent of green tea and ginkgo leaves, which seemed terribly exotic. 

            As a final splurge she went to a nail salon and got a manicure and pedicure.  She found an absolutely gorgeous copper red for her nails. She relaxed as the girls rubbed her hands and feet, feeling positively decadent. At the last minute, she chickened out for having the vibrant color on her fingers and picked a pale pink that was almost transparent.  The lovely red glowed on her toes though, and even though they wouldn’t show in the tango shoes, she’d know it was there. 

            Dana’s heart was pounding a mile a minute as she stood in the Community Center waiting for Frohike to arrive.  What if she’d scared him off with her actions the previous week?  She hoped not. 

            Frohike walked in.  He took his hat off and smiled as he walked over to her.  “Hi Dana.  Did you have a good week?”

            “Yes.” She smiled back, then shook her head.  “I mean, no.  I had a dull week.  Mostly reviewing old case files, getting current updates, phone and paperwork stuff.”

            “Yeah, same here.  Byers has been doing some mysterious research, but the rest of us have been cooling our heels.  And unlike Langly there’s only so much Tomb Raider I can take in one sitting so I’ve mostly been doing hardware, repairing stuff.”  He looked her over.  “Hey, you’ve got a new top.”

            She glanced down at the teal linen.  “Yeah, I’ve had it a while and just was waiting for an opportunity to wear it.”

            “Great color for you.  It looks nice.”  He offered his arm. “Shall we join the rest of them?”

            “Thank you, and yes.”  Dana was relieved. Apparently her impulsiveness last week hadn’t disturbed him.  Frohike was his usual comfortable self.  Irrationally, she now was slightly disappointed.  She was relieved that he appeared, but now she wondered if she had moved him at all.  Now I’m getting ridiculous, she thought.

            Scott called the class to order.  “Good evening everyone!  Tonight we’re going to do something different now that we have our basics down!  Tonight we’re going to alternate partners with each dance, so we can get comfortable with the dance with other people.  Okay?  Now, Carol and I will pair you up so nobody will feel like a wallflower!”

            Dana gave Frohike a glance of mild alarm.  He smiled reassuringly and touched her hand.  “You’ll do just fine.” He murmured. 

            Scott gestured to Dana, waving her over.  “Dana, would you dance with Vincent?”

            Dana walked over and appraised Vincent.  He was a pleasant looking man, slender with thick head of hair that resembled a wolf pelt.  His smile was nice and open, but not predatory, to Dana’s relief.  “Hi Dana.”

            “Hi.  Nice to meet you.”  She smiled back.  Well, she thought, he’s only a half a foot taller than you are.  That’s something.

            She looked over at Frohike.  He’d been paired with one of the tall raven-haired women, who always seemed to have a plunging neckline on.  His nose was right at her chin. 

            The music started.  Vincent moved out with Dana, and she moved with him.  Back, turn on ball of foot, shift hip, move to the side, move forward, shift again, she went through the steps without tripping.  Vincent took larger steps than she did and she had to stretch a little.  His hand on her back was too high and only making contact with his fingertips.  His other hand engulfed hers.  Her steps flowed and she didn’t trip, she realized with pride.

            It was harder dancing with Vincent than Frohike, she felt less supported.  Vincent was less confident, but then he was a novice like herself.  Dana moved carefully, trying to be reassuring as she danced with the new man.  She shifted with grace, concentrating on the music.  Vincent took too large of a step and she had to do two short ones to keep up.  She swallowed a sigh of irritation.

            The song ended, and everyone stopped.  Carol and Scott moved around again, telling everyone to turn and re-partner with the person to their left.  Dana introduced herself to a man named Mitch, who looked straight at the neckline of her top as he said his name.  She found him under-whelming.

            The next song had a faster tempo, Dana had to step faster and with more precision.  Unlike her last partner, Mitch didn’t have any problem putting his hands on a strange woman.  She was very conscious of his hand on her back, especially when it dipped down much lower than was polite, when they had turned away from the majority of the class.  Dana immediately put her foot down on his toes and shifted her weight.  He started with a grunt and raised his hand.

            “Oops.” She said coldly.

            He gave her an apologetic, wary half grin.  For the rest of the dance, his hand stayed at the middle of her back.  When the dance ended, she had to wipe her hand on her skirt from his clammy sweat.

            The next dance, they changed partners again.  This time she was with an older gentleman who held her well.  He moved a bit slowly, but she matched his pace perfectly and he smiled with pleasure as they danced.  Her confidence lifted as she shifted and swayed in his arms.  The music filled her mind and heart.

            Over and over again, she changed partners.  Some men danced well, other poorly. She enjoyed dancing with most of them, but none danced as well as Frohike.

            When she could, she peeked at Frohike to see how he was doing.  He danced well with all the women, though she could tell at some points that he had to restrain his dancing, or was more assertive in the lead.  If his partners took long paces, he was able to match them without over-extending.  She noticed he didn’t seem as relaxed as he was when he danced with her.

            Some of the men she danced with really pushed, as if they wanted to control the dance and her all the time.  The subtle give and take between partners that she enjoyed with Frohike seemed to escape them.  They tended to hold her hand too tight and pull her body too close in, which made it difficult if they took a long step.

            It was challenging, trying to adapt herself to a new partner every dance.  It was very good practice; she started to realize how much she had absorbed of the lessons and the steps.  Dana was pleased with her performance.

            At long last, she found herself back in Frohike’s arms.  It felt like coming home after a long day.  The music started and she moved easily with him.  He gave a gentle smile as they danced.  They moved closer, probably in self-defense from having to compensate for their long-legged classmates.

            Dana looked into Frohike’s hazel eyes.  They were gentle, soft green in this light.  She stepped to the side and for a moment felt the press of his thigh against her own.  She didn’t move her leg, just shifted her weight and raised her other leg into a crane lift and he gently rotated her back. It was the most difficult step she’d tried.  She was a little breathless, whether from the difficulty of the step or the closeness of his body, she wasn’t sure. Suddenly, she knew that she liked it.

            Scott and Carol clapped for attention.  “Okay everyone!” Scott declared. “That was really good! You all are really working hard!  Now we have an announcement!  For our sixth and final class we’re going to have some live music to dance to!  So you have that to look forward to over the next three weeks!  Have a good time and keep dancing, and we’ll see you next week.”

            “A live group?” She looked at Frohike.

            “That’ll be fun.” He grinned. “We’ll have to practice.”

            She nodded at him.  “Yeah, that’s true.  Let’s get started.”

            She was more aware of his body than she’d been before.  The heat from him, the touch of his thigh against hers, the brush of her hip against his, the brief presses of belly to belly, all were causing her head to swim.  Their bodies fit together so right, so easily.  Their feet and ankles worked around each other, never colliding.  Their eyes met and connected over and over.

            Suddenly Dana realized that there was nothing about him she didn’t like.  He wasn’t handsome, true, but she liked looking at him.  She liked the softness of the line of his jaw.  She liked his short stature that put them at eye level.  She liked his grey-streaked hair that he pulled back from his face.  She liked his slight paunch that fit so comfortably under her breasts when they embraced closely.  She liked his butt, and the cute way he jumped that time she pinched it.  She thought his eyes and hands were beautiful. 

            His hands were wondrous.  Small and graceful, with fingers that could work with such precision over delicate equipment.  He could work with such care, intense concentration through those hands.  She could feel the warmth of his supporting hand against her back.  She could feel the textures of his fingers twined with her own. She couldn’t resist the thought of what it would be like to have those hands on her body.  On her naked flesh.  She lowered her eyes and moved her face away to hide her sudden blush.

            He stopped and looked at her.  “Dana?  Are you okay?”

            “Yeah.”  She said, her voice slightly husky.  “I guess I’m just a bit hungry, that’s all.  I didn’t have much dinner.”

            “Do you want to leave?”  He sounded concerned.

            “No, that’s okay.  I’d like to dance a bit more.  Then let’s get some food.”  She grinned.  “This time it’s my treat.”

            At the Cuban Flame, Frohike ordered them some Bistec de Palomilla.  Dana was in favor of a beer this time, and they each had a Corona with lime.  The conversation went back over the evening’s class and the different partners. 

            “I’m sure you cleaned up on phone numbers.” She teased.

            Frohike gave her a smug expression.  “What can I say, when you’ve got the moves...”

            Dana raised an eyebrow in her best ‘oh, really’ glance.  Then she couldn’t help it; she laughed at his grin.

            “What about you?  I’m sure all those men couldn’t wait to get their hands on you.”

            “Well, one couldn’t wait to get his one of his hands all over me.”  She noticed that his expression suddenly looked serious.  She gave a satisfied smile. “Of course after I stepped on his foot, that cured the wandering hand.”

            A flicker of relief passed over his face.  “You danced well with that old guy.”

            “Yes, he wasn’t a bad dancer, was he?  He was nice.”  Dana took a drink of her beer.  “It reminded me of dancing with my father when I was younger.”  She smiled fondly at the memory. “He would take little steps so I could keep up, and we’d waltz around the living room.”

            “Were you a Daddy’s girl?”  Frohike asked.

            “Oh, yes.  Mom thinks that’s why I was such a tomboy.  We shared so much, he and I, and I wanted so hard to have his approval.  I think that’s what shocked the family so much when I joined the FBI.  He didn’t want me to do it.  The boys had joined the Navy, just like him, and he was so pleased that I was going to be a doctor.  I just wanted to take those skills and use them to help to find the truth.  It took him a long time to understand that.”  She looked over at him. “What about you?  Are you more like your dad, or your mom?”

            “Actually, neither.  I’m more like my grandmother, really.  My dad died when I was a teenager, so my mom had to find work.  My grandmother moved in with us to help out.  You could say I had to be the man pretty early.”

            “Frohike, I’m sorry.”  She reached out and touched his hand. He squeezed it warmly.

            “It’s okay.  I can’t say I’m glad about it, but we made it through- better than a lot of folks.  My grandmother was a real pistol.  She learned flying in the twenties and was a bit of an adventurer when she was a girl.  She loved mechanics and design, so it’s probably from her that my dad and I got the talent for hardware.  We’d fix cars together, if you can believe that.”  He sipped his beer.  “My mom was a biochemist, and back in the fifties, that was still pretty unusual.  She worked a lot of hours, but she really was a strong force.  For Mom, education was the most important thing on earth for us.  She didn’t care how many hours she’d have to work, how many scholarships or how many favors, we were all going to get the best education she could give us.  If she hadn’t had the education she had we’d have been scrabbling for food and necessities like so many other families.”  A look of irritation crossed his face. “Still, though, she would work twice the hours as the men in her department and still get paid less.  If she complained about it, she was reminded that they had wives and families to support; and she always had the option of marrying again.  Like she should just tie the knot with someone to get a bigger income per month.  Gran’s mom was a suffragette, and Gran told us that Great-Grandma would be spinning in her grave if she knew that even after marching for equal pay for equal work before World War I we still didn’t have it yet.”  He shook his head.  “And we still don’t have it now.  My mom had a fit when I studied journalism.  I heard a lot of ‘How do you expect to support a family on that’ a lot.”

            “How many brothers and sisters did you have?” She asked, fascinated by his story.

            “Four.  I’m the oldest.  I’m Melvin, named after my great-grandfather.  I guess they thought Just-Throw-The-Basketball-At-My-Head took up too much at space on the birth certificate.  Then there was Ed, the twins- Hope and Grace, and Dennis was the baby.  Of course they got non-dorky names.  The trauma of being the first born.”

            The waitress brought two plates of steak, with a garlic and lime glaze and saffron rice, and slid them in front of them.

            “There were only four of us.  Typical Irish Catholic size.” Dana remarked.

            “We were Catholic, too.” Frohike cut his meat.

            “Really?”  Dana looked skeptical.

            “Honest.  Hey, I was even an altar boy.”  He looked at her expression and got a bit indignant. “What?  You don’t believe me?  I’ve got photos.”

            The mental image of a young Frohike, garbed in the white robes, holding the silver plate under the Host, looking so adorable and cherubic with such a wicked gleam in his eyes was just too delicious for her and she started to giggle.  He chuckled too, and she just gave herself over to laughter. 

            After the mirth died, she dug into her food.  As she savored the dish, she thought about the times spent in the café.  She’d been more relaxed and laughed more in here than she’d had in a long time.  Was that one of the things she needed most lately in her life?

            They talked and ate leisurely, and Dana lost track of time.  Finally, she caught sight of the clock over the bar with a start.  “Oh, look at the time.  I need to get home and get to bed. Mom and I are having brunch tomorrow.”

            He reached for the check, but she caught it up before he could.  “No, it’s my treat tonight!  You pay next week.”

            “Okay.  If you’ll excuse me, I’ll use the men’s room while you settle up.”

            Dana nodded, and watched him walk across the room to the rest rooms.  The waitress came up and Dana handed her the check and her American Express.  The waitress went to the bar and swiped the card.  She brought the slips back for Dana to sign.  As Dana was working out the tip, the waitress spoke.  “Tu y tu esposo estan muy amable.”

            Dana looked up at her.  She wasn’t sure of what the woman said.  She knew esposo was spouse, but then rest went over her head.  The waitress’ smile was warm and nice, so just Dana smiled back and handed her the slips.  The waitress nodded.  “Esta buena gente.”

            “Gracias.” Dana said. “Gracias.”

            Frohike came up to the booth as the waitress walked away. “You ready?”

            “Yes.”  Dana turned back to him, though the waitress’ words rang in her head looking for something to connect to.  She hoped she’d be able to remember them to translate later.

            Once again, Frohike walked her to her car.  They shook hands, and like last time, Dana moved in to kiss his face.  This time, he moved with her.  As she brushed her lips against his cheek, she felt the gentle press of his own against hers.  “Goodnight, Dana.”

            “Goodnight Frohike.  Next week?”

            “Next week.”  He waved as she drove away.

            On Sunday, Dana took a long, thoughtful soak in the bath.  She put on Bach’s Goldberg Variations on the stereo and tried to think as she floated in the scented bubbles.

            Okay, so she had a crush. She had all the symptoms.  That wasn’t so terrible.  It happens all the time. Her attraction had been building while they went dancing.  Now she was focusing on his hands and his eyes.  That was a definite crush sign.  It wasn’t as if she had never thought of the men she associated with in a sexual light before.  It was perfectly normal and healthy.

            What was stirring her just as much were the post dance evenings at the café.  The comfortable talks, the food, and the laughter were warming her spirit in a way that she couldn’t describe.  She had forgotten how much she had missed that sort of companionship in her life.  It was hard to have that anymore, with Mulder pulling cases that sent them all over the country at a moment’s notice.  Or at least, that was the excuse.  It was just easier, to whip up some pasta or a salad and sit in her sweats in front of the TV rather than get dressed nice and go out with someone.  If these nights hadn’t come up by happenstance, would she have sought this companionship out?  She didn’t know.  She liked it.  She wanted more of it.

            Dana lifted her dripping hands out of the water and pushed her hair back from her face.  She slid a little farther into the water and lifted her feet up to balance them on the edge of the tub.  Steam rose from her toes.

            So what was she going to do about her attraction?  She didn’t have to pursue it; she could just enjoy it and keep to herself.  What if she wanted to go farther with it?

            He kissed her back last night.  She could still smell his cologne and feel the soft touch of his lips against her face, see the gentle look in his eyes.  He was following her lead, not pressing, just holding in her the warmth of his friendship.  Treating her like a princess…

            The glamour of the tango had to be a part of her attraction; she knew that.  The dance was so sexual, so sensuous, there was such awareness of their bodies that there was no real way to not be attracted to her partner.  Especially when she was dancing such a confident and accomplished partner.  What if that was the sexual pull was coming from?  What if she saw him in an unrelated place?  Would she still feel the same?

            That was a valid question, she realized.  Okay, so what if she saw him in another venue?  The Gunmen often would have get-togethers over at the warehouse.  So, she’d make sure to turn up at the next one.  See how she felt being with Frohike on his own turf.  If there were no sparks, she’d know that she was just having a crush created by the dance.  Then she’d know to just keep it to herself.  There wasn’t a need to interfere with her friendship with him over something silly that might not lead anywhere. 

            Dana picked up and put down her cell phone three times before she made herself dial the number.  She looked across the park, watching the people jog and a man play Frisbee with his Doberman as she listened to the ringing.

            “Hello!” answered an unfamiliar voice.

            “Frohike?”  Dana furrowed her brow, confused.  This was Frohike’s cell number, not the usual line.  Who was answering?

            “Uh, no, this is Jimmy.  Frohike’s under some equipment at the moment.  Who’s calling?”

            “This is Dana Scully…look, I’ll call back if he’s busy.”

            She heard a slight noise and Jimmy speaking to someone.  “She says it’s Dana.”

            There was Frohike’s voice. “Okay, gimme the phone.  And hold that.  Don’t touch those wires.  If you electrocute yourself, I’ll kill you.”  Then, he was on. “Hey, Dana!  What’s up?”

            She smiled unconsciously at the sound of her name.  “Uh, hi, Frohike.  Look, I was calling because Mulder mentioned that you guys were getting together this week to watch basketball.  I was just wondering…”

            “What?  Oh, Mulder invited you?  That’s great!  Yeah, it’s Bulls vs. Knicks…which is a huge competitive thing between Mulder and Byers.  I’m planning on making mile high nachos, do you like them?”  He sounded pleased.

            “Yes, I do.  I was just wondering what I could bring?”  Dana grinned happily.  This was easier than she’d thought.  She hadn’t had to invite herself after all, Frohike was just assuming Mulder had.  A breeze blew up and she had to hold a hand out to keep her sandwich wrapper from blowing away.

            “More chips are always good, and maybe some beer would be fine.”  Suddenly his voice was muted. “Jimmy, careful with that thing!”  She then heard a soft voice, “What, why? Owww!!”

            “Look, Dana, I’ve got to go, I’ve got a bit of a problem here.  Could you call me Thursday, and I’ll let you know if we’re short anything else.  Bye.”

            “I’m looking forward to it. Bye.”  She snapped the phone shut.  She was pleased how it went.   As she watched the other people in the park she looked forward to joining in on a guys’ night.

            Dana walked up to the warehouse door, balancing a paper shopping bag on her hip and a plastic bag on her arm as she buzzed.  The door swung open and Langly stood there, holding the door wide so she could get in with her load.  “Hey, Scully.  Need a hand?”

            “Thanks!”  She handed him the plastic bag with a six pack of Corona in it.  As she passed the beer, she noticed how Langly was dressed.  He wasn’t in his usual rock tshirt; he was wearing a colorful Hawaiian shirt instead.  His jeans were nicer than usual and he looked freshly scrubbed.  There was a touch of patchouli scent on him.

            Langly led her upstairs and into the kitchen.  He set the beer down on the table.  “More beer!”

            Frohike was chopping onions on a marble cutting board.  “Hi Dana!  Glad you could make it.  Have you met Jimmy?”

            A tall man with a good-hearted face smiled and held out a hand.  “Hi! Jimmy Bond!  Call me Jimmy.”

            Langly waved from the doorway.  “Later guys.  Good to see you, Scully.  I’m off.”

            “Later, man.” Frohike waved his knife hand.  After the door slammed shut behind Langly, Frohike looked up at Dana with a welcome smile.

            “He looked rather…nice.” Dana mentioned, hoping she didn’t sound too amazed than was polite.

            “Yeah, he’s got a date, but he doesn’t want to tell us.  He says he’s off to role play with some of his friends, but he never put on clean jeans or a shirt with buttons for that crowd.”  He took a long look at her.  “Hey, you wore it!”

            Dana looked down.  She was wearing a WNBA sweatshirt that the Gunmen had given her in a holiday basket last Christmas. “Yeah, it seemed appropriate.”

            Jimmy took the beers out of their cardboard carrier and put them on ice in a cooler. “Oh, Coronas.  You’ve got a friend in Frohike.”

            “Woman after my own heart.” Frohike remarked as he slid the chopped onion in a bowl.

            Dana blushed and turned her attention to the paper bag.  “I’ve got tortilla chips, sour cream, and two cans of pinto beans.  Oh, and I grabbed an angel cake and some berries for later.”

            “Excellent!” Jimmy declared.

            “You’re a lifesaver, Dana.”  Frohike declared as he took the two cans of beans from her hands.  Was it her imagination, or did he give her fingers a slight squeeze as he took them?  Jimmy took hold of the cake and the sour cream and popped them in the fridge.

            “What can I do to help?”  She asked.

            “Well, if you don’t mind, you could start laying chips out on the cookie sheets.”  Frohike waved his hand over some cookie sheets covered with foil.  He turned back to the stove where some ground beef was browning.  “Actually, wait, could you grate cheese, and let Jimmy do sheets?  He’s had a beer.”

            “I only cut myself that once.” Jimmy grumbled.

            “I don’t want any blood in these.” Frohike insisted.

            Dana sat at the table and reached for the bowl and grater.  Soon she had a hill of orange cheese in front of her.  As she worked, she glanced over at Frohike.  He was wearing a cotton Henley with a flannel shirt over it and faded blue jeans.  His usual gloves were off his hands as he worked with the food.  He seemed to move everywhere at once, browning beef, stirring beans, chopping peppers, cilantro, tomato and onions for pico.  The heady smell of it all filled the kitchen. 

They worked well together, even Jimmy, getting the ingredients in harmony.  Together, they layered the foodstuffs over the chips on the pans.  Jimmy handed the sheets to Frohike who put then in the oven.  The door slid shut when the door buzzer rang.

“That’ll be Mulder.  He always knows when the bulk of the cooking is done.”  Frohike declared, wiping his hands on a tea towel.

“Well, it could be Yves.”  Jimmy told him.  “I, uh, asked her too.”

“Look, Jimmy, that was a nice thought.  But don’t take it to heart if she doesn’t show.  She’s not really a sports kinda chick, you know?”  Frohike gave Jimmy a pat on the shoulder as he moved past him toward the stairs.

Jimmy picked up a sponge and started wiping the table. “Yeah, I know.”

He looked so sad, so heartfelt, that Dana wished she could think of something to say.  She gathered up the pans and put them in the sink to rinse.

There was a loud thump of steps and the ringing sound of basketball-bouncing coming up the stairs.  “Hey, Scully!  Who are you going to root for?  Knicks, right?”  Mulder called.

“Actually, I think I’m going to cheer for the Bulls on Byers’ side.  I have a soft spot for the underdog.” She yelled over the rinse water.  Frohike came up beside her and opened the dishwasher.  She handed the rinsed pots over to him.

“You’ve got to be kidding. The Bulls have sucked since Phil Jackson went to LA and they lost Mike.  They only did 17 wins last season.”

“Hey,” Jimmy chimed up, “The Knicks rule.”

“The Bulls are going to stampede all over them.  They just need to find their stride.” Byers normally mild voice had fire in it.  He smiled over at Scully. “Hello, Agent Scully.  Glad you could make it.”

She looked over from the sink and smiled hello.  She was so surprised that she almost dropped the saucepan she was holding.  For the first time since she’d known him, (apart from the time she showed up and everyone was in sleepwear), Byers wasn’t in a suit.  He was dressed casually, in a Bulls sweatshirt and blue jeans, no less!  At closer inspection, Dana saw that he wasn’t as casual as it could be.  The sweatshirt looked bright as brand new, and the jeans were crisp with fresh pressed creases.  Felix Unger to the end, even on a Sports Night, she thought.

            “Frohike, I put newspaper on the coffee table, so we can just serve in the pans.  We’ve got paper plates and forks in there too.  Mulder, did you bring beer?”  Byers looked at Mulder.

            “Of course, I brought beer.  No way am I going to drink that Mexican piss Frohike likes. Sam Adams has arrived.  Let’s get it on ice.”  Mulder replied happily.

            “Bite me, Mulder.” Frohike said mildly.

            “Yeah, Mulder.  Besides,” Dana smiled at Frohike. “Limes are our friends.”

            “I like limes! I like limes!  They’re plump, they’re rolly, they’re bright and they’re green.” Jimmy sang off key haphazardly to the tune of ‘I like Chinese’, the old Monty Python song.

            Mulder shuddered.  “Jimmy, when the little voices tell you do that, they aren’t your friends.”

            Everyone laughed then, even Jimmy.  Frohike went back to check the nachos, and Dana followed to help.  As they pulled the sheets out, Mulder came over to sniff in appreciation.  “Okay,” Frohike said, “Let’s put sour cream on top of one sheet and leave the other plain.  That cool with everyone?”

            “Hey, I’m cool with it on both.”  Mulder insisted.

            “I’d hate to be your heart, Mulder.” Byers remarked.

            “We can get arterial sclerosis just by looking at the pans,” Dana pointed out. “We might as well take the plunge.”

            “Pile it on!” Jimmy declared.

            Dana and Frohike carried the pans over to the newspaper-covered table.  Frohike served them up onto the paper plates with a generous hand. 

            “Let me get us some beer.”  Dana turned to go back to kitchen, but Frohike stopped her with a touch to her arm. 

            “No, pick a seat.  Byers will get the drinks.” 

            Dana settled into the corner of the red sofa, with nachos balanced in her lap.  Byers came in with a tray of beer glasses.  He handed Dana hers, and she smiled her thanks.  Jimmy took his and plopped down next to her on the sofa.  Mulder rounded out the sofa crowd.  Byers settled into an old green leather chair and Frohike took the recliner close to Dana’s side of the sofa.

            “Who are you going to root for, Frohike?”  She asked.

            “Call me Switzerland, I’m neutral.  I’m a Lakers fan for the NBA, and a Sparks fan for the WNBA…rest of the time, I just coast.”  He settled back in the chair comfortably.

            “Great nachos, guys!”  Mulder declared happily.

            The action in the living room proved to be as exciting as the play on the television.  Jimmy and Mulder were very animated watchers, bouncing, waving and shouting at the screen.  Their energy proved so infectious that Dana was drawn more into the game than she ever would have watching it alone.  Frohike cheered and commiserated for both sides, and Byers astonished Dana with an outburst of, “Shoot, you sonofabitch, shoot!!”

            By half time, only crumbs of the nachos were left.  Frohike quickly whipped up some bean dip and brought it in with another bag of chips.  Mulder leaned over and went first.  As he brought the overflowing chip to his mouth, he commented, “Man, you want me to hear my gut singing all night don’t you, Frohike.”

            Frohike snorted.  “You think you’re not sleeping alone anyway?  Eat up, we need it to soak up the beer.”

            Dana swallowed a laugh, turning it into a cough.  Frohike wiggled his eyebrows at her.  Then Jimmy swallowed the last of his beer and gave a mighty belch.  “God, that’s good.”  He glanced at Dana and reddened.  “Oops, sorry Dana.”

            “That’s okay, Jimmy.”  She smiled at him, unperturbed. “Actually, I was going to get myself another.  Anyone else?”

            “Oh, that would be great!” Jimmy smiled broadly.  He has such a sweet, open face, Dana thought.

            “I’ll come with you.  We need to cut some more lime.” Frohike told her.

            “I’d like another Sam Adams, if you wouldn’t mind.” Byers chimed in.

            “Me, too!” Mulder couldn’t be left out.

            She nodded and headed for the kitchen with Frohike.  As they filled the glasses, she looked at him. “At the risk of sounding like a girl, how’s the game going over all?”

            Frohike shook his head. “Bad for Byers, the Bulls are ahead, but I don’t think they’ll keep the lead.  Mulder’s right, loosing Jackson was bad for them.  But, after the game Jimmy and Mulder will drag him outside to shoot hoops and that will cheer him up.”

            Dana squeezed lime into the glasses and stirred.  “Do you join in?”

            He gave her an ‘are-you-kidding’ look.  “That’s when I clean the kitchen and put coffee on, so Mulder can drive home and Jimmy won’t throw up.”

            “Well, we can be the low height cleaning crew.”  She grinned.

            They came back, handed out the drinks and settled back in for second half.  Frohike’s prediction proved correct, after the strong start the Bulls ran out of steam.  The Knicks fought back and pushed hard.  There was more shouting, swearing and bouncing.  At one point, Dana jumped with excitement and got a happy pat on her arm from Frohike.  It felt warm and nice, and she turned and covered his hand with her own, sharing a smile.  She looked at the rest of the guys to see if they had noticed.  None were looking anywhere but the screen.

            The Bulls feel short, and the final whistle blew.  Byers fell back into his chair with a disappointed sigh as Jimmy and Mulder shared a high five.  Mulder leaned over and clapped Byers on the shoulder. “You need a new team, Byers.”

            Jimmy grabbed up Mulder’s basketball, tossed it up and caught it.  “Let’s hit concrete and shoot some hoops!  Come on, Byers, let’s go.”

 ah        “We should help Frohike clean up.”  Byers said, shaking his head.

            “I’ll help him.  Why don’t you guys get some fresh air.” Dana told him.

            “And sober up.”  Frohike added.

            Finally, Mulder and Jimmy galloped out, Byers following.  Dana and Frohike cleared up and went into the kitchen.  After the garbage was thrown away and the dishwasher emptied and refilled, Frohike started a pot of coffee.  Dana got out the cake and cut it, putting slices on paper plates and then covering them with blueberries.  Frohike got out a bottle of chocolate syrup and drizzled a bit on the cake slices. 

            “Now as I see it,” Frohike remarked. “We have two choices.”

            “Yes?” She asked.

            “We can go outside and watch the weekend athletes toss the ball.  Or we can take cake and coffee back into the TV zone and watch some MST3K.” 

            She’d admitted her addiction to Mystery Science Theatre 3000 during the evenings at the Cuban Flame.  They had shared choice conversation discussing the merits of such films as ‘Manos: Hands of Fate’ and ‘The Dead Talk Back’.  The cheezy movies with their silly hosts had been her passports to a quick state of unwind after dealing with stressful cases. With the option of watching the guys shoot baskets or laughing with Mike and the ‘bots; her choice was clear. “Which one?”

            “How about ‘The Horror of Party Beach’?” He grinned. “It’s a fav of mine.”

            “Terrific! I haven’t seen that one.” 

            Dana settled back on the sofa with her coffee and cake.  Frohike put his own dessert coffee on the table and went to put the tape in the machine.  He didn’t return to the recliner.  Instead, he sat beside her on the sofa.  Dana refrained from singing the MST3K theme song but her fingers couldn’t help tapping to the beat.  Soon, the show had her snorting laughter into her coffee cup.

            The Horror at Party Beach turned out to be a delightfully horrible combination of sixties B-horror with a toss of beach movie thrown in. It was black and white, which was probably in its favor since Dana wasn’t sure the monster would hold up to color scrutiny.  The plot was simple, radioactive waste make fish smelling zombie monsters that looked like a giant fish beast attempting to see how many dill pickles it could hold in its mouth at once.   The evil zombies could only nourish themselves on fresh human blood – which happened to look suspiciously like chocolate syrup – preferably, blood from young, pretty teenage girls

 The things that really livened up the film was the Stock Colored Maid, Eulabelle who insisted ‘It’s the Voodoo, that’s what it is!’ periodically, some amazing beach crowd dances, a bucketful of pathetic double entendre jokes which the ‘bots kept pointedly not getting, and a band called the Del Aires.

            The Del Aires were like Beach Boys Imitators who had actually never heard a Beach Boys record.  What they sounded like was a cheap emergency back up Everly Brothers with someone’s untalented cousin added in.  Dana thought it was terrific.  Frohike took her hand and in defense of his generation, led her into doing the Zombie Stomp until she collapsed in laughter.  He fell next on the sofa next to her, just as amused.  During a slow song, he put an arm around her shoulder and rocked from side to side on the sofa in time to the melody, singing along deliberately out of tune.  She thought she was going to hurt herself from giggling so much.  However, after the song was over, he didn’t pull his arm away. 

            Comfortable with merriment and enjoying the closeness, she didn’t want him to pull back.  Reaching up with her own hand, she took his own.  Dana met his eyes, and they were dark this time, soft and warm.  He was smiling fondly at her in a way that warmed her inside.  She breathed deep, and she could smell the scents of cooking, beer and good soap on his skin.  She wanted to kiss him, right here and now.  Looking in his eyes, she was sure he wanted to kiss her too.

            Dana caressed his hand with her thumb as she held it.  She turned her head towards him and parted her lips.  She smiled softly and leaned towards him, not closing her eyes.  He moved towards her in harmony.  She felt the soft touch of his breath, the heat of him, and half closed her eyes as their lips gently touched. 

They leaped apart in shock as the door downstairs banged open and the guys’ loud voices rose up to them.  Dana let go of his hand and he pulled his arm back.  The moment was gone, evaporated.

            Byers, Jimmy and Mulder came upstairs followed by a dark, slender, intense looking woman.  She wasn’t tall, but gave the presence of tallness.  There was arrogance in her beauty that was breathtaking and unnerving.  Dana didn’t recognize her. 

            Frohike got up.  “Coffee’s in the kitchen guys.  We got cake, too.  Hey, Yves.  You made it.”

            “I had a window in my schedule.”  Her husky voice was crisp and British.

            “Yeah,” Jimmy interjected happily. “She drove up while we were playing.”

            “Better late than never, I guess. Oh, Dana, this is Yves, Yves this is Dana Scully.”  Frohike introduced them casually as he headed to the kitchen.

            “How do you do?” Yves said, politely.

            “Hi.” Dana smiled, but suddenly felt terribly frumpy in her sweatshirt and old 501’s, with no makeup to speak of and with her hair pulled back simply in a little ponytail.  Yves was dressed in leather jeans, a clinging black cotton French tshirt, with a perfectly made up face and her thick midnight hair curled over her shoulders and back without the remotest trace of frizz.

            Mulder certainly seemed to be enjoying the view.  He came into the TV room carrying a mug and a cake plate, looking Yves over with definite appreciation as he climbed over the coffee table to drop into Frohike’s vacant spot on the sofa.  Frohike came back out of the kitchen and handed Yves a plate and mug of coffee and offered her to take a seat.  She went over to Byers’ leather chair and sat down gracefully.  Dana noticed that Yves gave Mulder a subtle once over as she crossed her long legs and balanced her cake plate.

            Frohike glanced over at Mulder in his spot, and Dana saw his eyebrows knit for a second in irritation. His eyes moved from Mulder to her and back to Mulder and then he moved back to his recliner without speaking.  Dana tried to meet his eyes, but he avoided her gaze. 

            “What’s on?” Byers asked as he came in.  Seeing his seat taken he moved to the sofa on the other side of Mulder.

            “Tail end of the Horror at Party Beach.” Frohike told him.

            “Well, all right!” Jimmy declared, padding in last.  Noticing all the seats full, he sat on the floor by Yves feet. 

            The rest of the movie went on, the group finding great humor in two comedy drunks being dispatched by the zombie creatures.  (“Guess someone’s going to have to take over their Senate seats,” Frohike remarked dryly.) The excitement then rose with the discovery that sodium will destroy the zombies, and the hero rushed to find some.

            As the movie limped to it’s conclusion, Dana felt a soft touch on her hand.  She looked down and saw Frohike’s fingers gently curling around her own.  She squeezed them back.

            Dana prepared for class lost in thought.  She had shaved, bathed, moisturized and powdered. She tossed her tango shoes towards the bed.  As she pulled her skirt on, she sighed.  Had she just not seen how lonely her solitary life was becoming?  She had so enjoyed the simple sharing of cooking and cleaning up with Frohike; it had been relaxing in an unexpected way.  Later during their time alone, the attraction had risen up, fueled by his gentle embrace and his laughter.  Dana had wanted to kiss him so much, just kiss him and keep kissing him…and then Mulder and the guys had to wreck it.

            She put her makeup on with care, carefully tracing lines under her lower lashes, then smudging them to make her eyes look more luminous.  She put cover stick over the mole above her upper lip and smoothed it with power.  Then she traced out her lips and filled in the color with a brighter red lipstick than was her usual.

            Dana was unreasonably annoyed with Mulder over that, she knew- it wasn’t like Mulder would have known what she’d been up to.  How was he supposed to know that Frohike had been sitting next to her?  Frohike hadn’t demanded his seat back, after all.

All the same, deep down, Dana still felt like Mulder had claimed territory beside her and then used it to check out Yves, assuming the privilege of a place beside her but ignoring the attention that came with it. 

            That he then mentioned Yves at least six times the following day hadn’t helped matters. 

            She sighed and pulled on her linen blouse, fussing a little with the collar.  Frohike didn’t make her jealous.  Well, not really. She had to admit that when the Gunmen practically threw themselves at Esther Nairn’s feet, she’d felt the green monster surge within.  It took time to acknowledge that Esther’s intellectual brilliance felt threatening to her.  Accustomed to being passed over for more stunning looking women, she’d had grown terribly proud of and reliant on her intellectual charms.  It was with those she’d first impressed the Gunmen, and won Frohike’s attention. She was loath to say it, but she didn’t like being challenged as their geek queen.

            She brushed out her bright hair, fluffing it up.  She turned this way and that, hoping her earrings showed and sparkled a little. 

            Dana felt terribly confused; how could she be so drawn to Frohike when her unresolved passion for Mulder insisted on raising its head?  Of course, Mulder was attracted to Yves.  She was just the sort of women Mulder went for – stately, dark, flashing eyes and smooth seal curves. It was stupid for her to feel jealous, since she was unable to compete with that.  Besides, Dana knew Mulder cared about her deeply, very deeply.  She sat on her bed and shook her head.  Deep enough that he could take her for granted when it suited him.  Deep enough that he would make a move when it looked like he was loosing her partnership, and would pull back when their partnership was secure.

            That wasn’t fair, she knew.  When she asked Mulder to be a sperm donor for her fertility treatments, he told her that he didn’t want to risk changing what they had because it was too important to him.  He told her the truth of what he feared.             

            Dana went over to gather her shoes.  One was on top of the bed; the other had fallen on to the floor.

Just like me, she thought, waiting for the other tango shoe to drop.

            Dana walked into the Center and discovered that Frohike had arrived first.  He touched her forearm and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek in greeting.  She blushed and smiled- bubbly happy that he was so pleased to see her. 

            Once again, Scott and Carol had the students alternating partners.  Dance by dance, the students flowed around in a spiral as the instructors directed them. 

            “Okay, now, remember,” Carol told them, “If you happen to make an error ladies, don’t step back to do it correctly now.  The songs are shorter than other ballroom dances, so there isn’t time.  Just keep going and let the gentleman make an adjustment to the next step.”

            “If you make an error guys, just go to plan B and don’t fall over the lady.”  Scott joked.  “In Argentina, the instructors tell you to remain dominant!  Keep steady and push ahead.”

            Dana was pleased at her progress.  She danced with each partner with less effort than last week. It was always easier dancing with Scott or Frohike, since they were more experienced.  However, Dana was able to anticipate her novice partners’ moves more rather than just concentrating on her own steps.  The dance was still challenging, but it was more fun.

            “A dance like this and the practice times afterward are called ‘practicas’.  Now, a more formal dance, like we’re planning for everyone in two weeks is called a ‘milonga’.”  Carol explained.  “So let’s practice and dress up a bit!  Remember we’re going to have live music for you all!  Get excited, kids!”

            After class, she and Frohike waited for the open dancing to start.  They embraced openly, holding each other gently.  She smiled fondly at him, and they started to dance without words.  

            The waitress had just place the iced tea in front of them, when Frohike pulled a small paper bag out from his jacket pocket.  He handed it to Dana without ceremony.  “I thought you might like this.”

            Dana looked inside.  It was a home-copied videotape.  The label was titled, Tango – Carlos Saura.  “What is it?”

            “It’s a movie, a Spanish and Argentine co-production.  There are some wonderful dance scenes in it.”  He seemed nervous, like he was afraid she might not like it.  “I know, I know, I should know better than to give a bootleg tape to a Fed…”

            She smiled broadly, reached out and squeezed his hand. “Thank you! That’s so thoughtful of you.  I’m sure I’ll love it.”  She looked at her hand, her fingers curled around his.  It was warm, and the leather of his glove was soft and smooth.  She made herself pull her hand away.

            “I had a good time the other night.” She took a sip of tea and looked at him over the glass.  “The game was fun, and the movie was terrific.” 

            “I had a good time, too.” He gave a slight grin.  “Even if the guys busted up the best part.”

            Color rushed to her face and her mouth pulled into a smile that was quite beyond her control.  She bit her lip.  Here it was - acknowledgment for what was happening.  It wasn’t just happening to her.  He’d given her an opening now and she could talk about it if she wished.  Suddenly, she was scared to. Dana changed the subject.

            “Have you found out who Langly’s mystery date was?”  She asked.

            “Nope.  But he was pretty blissed when he slunk in at three, so I’d say it went well.”

            “Byers handling the Bulls defeat?”

            “Yeah, he’s bouncing back.  I’m going to seriously suggest he get into hockey though.”   He poured sugar in his tea.  “That man needs a new sport.”

            The waitress brought their food and set the steaming plates in front of them.  Dana settled her napkin into her lap and picked up her silverware.

            “Jimmy seems a bit crushed out over Yves.”  She ventured.

            “Oh, he’s fallen flat.” Frohike gave a slight sigh.

            “Worried about him?”

            “No, not me!  He’s hardheaded enough to bounce.” Frohike’s denial sounded a bit too excessive to her ears.  “Byers is concerned though.  He’s got a soft spot for Jimmy.”  Frohike took a few bites of food.  “Anyway, even if Yves is interested, which she exhibits no symptoms, how long before they run out of things to talk about?”

            Dana bit her lip again, this time to stifle a chuckle of irony.  There were probably those who could have said the same thing about them, too.  She kept her face straight.

            “She’s such an enigma.  I’m sure that’s also why he’s over the moon.  Touch of mystery on a woman, and the simple guys all fall at her feet.”

            “Like Esther?”  Dana couldn’t resist.

            Frohike flushed a tad, and then grinned.  “Yeah, well, okay, only exactly.” 

            “Don’t tell me if Yves gave you a look you wouldn’t be interested.”  Dana said, teasingly.

            “Can’t lie, there.  But…” He cleared his throat.  “Once a dance is started, I don’t like to change partners.”

            Dana blinked suddenly and reached out and squeezed his fingers.  “It’s been a long time since I danced.  I’ve mostly just sat at the table and listened to the music.  It’s been like, like,” she swallowed and tried to continue the metaphor, “I’ve been sitting at the table next to someone and so nobody’s asked me to dance.  Now suddenly, I am dancing, and it’s a surprise, but I’m not sure how I got there…and I’m not sure if I’m at a practica or a milonga or where it’s leading to…” She trailed off.

            Frohike closed his other hand over hers.  She looked at him and his eyes were soft and he was giving her a kind smile.  “Just move with the dance and listen to the music, don’t worry about the rest.  The steps will come clear later.  Just enjoy it for now.”

            She didn’t trust herself to say anything else, so she nodded.  Then she smiled with him and nodded again. 

            “You might want to eat that before it’s stone cold.” Frohike advised as he gently released her hand.

            The talk released some of Dana’s coiled anxiety.  She ate her Cuban shrimp, which was succulent with fruit and had enough spice to lift the roof of her mouth off.  She was definitely going to have to get a Cuban cookbook. 

            Frohike insisted on paying, since she had paid last time.  Dana thanked him again for the tape as he walked her to her car.  Tossing the tape on the seat, Dana made a decision.

            She turned to him, took his face in her hands and kissed him on the mouth so fast that he barely had time to react.  She kissed with fervor, warmly drawing his lips with her own.  His lips were soft and warm, tasting of tea, lime and spicy food – rich to her.  His hair was soft under her fingertips.

            Frohike’s hands rose to her shoulders and he held her.  His lips came awake under hers and he kissed her back.  His mouth moved with purpose, kissing with her, parting for her, and she tasted his breath. 

            It was wonderful.

            The kiss ended, and their faces pulled back.  She was breathing faster, astonished at her own actions.  Dana could see his lips quivering ever so slightly.  He was looking in her eyes. His eyes were dark and velvety.  Frohike moved in again and her eyes closed as she felt his kiss.  She kissed him back, on hand moving from his face to his neck and bringing him closer.  They fit so perfectly together.

            All of her consciousness, all thought fled.  All that Dana was aware of was the feeling of the kiss.  The kiss was beauty to her and it flooded her senses.  It ended gracefully, their lips pulling apart and their foreheads dipped and touched.  She didn’t speak, just breathed.

            Frohike pulled away first, smiling and adjusting his glasses.  “Goodnight, Dana.  See you next week?”

            “Goodnight, Frohike.  Yes, I’ll be there.” She smiled happily.  She was still smiling all the way on the drive home.

            Mulder called her into an X-File investigation, which took the two of them to the heart of the midwest – ‘dragged out to Nebraska’ was what she thought of it.  It was of course, all part of the job, but her state of mind wasn’t particularly fair to Mulder. Dana just didn’t want to have to travel away from Washington at the moment and risk missing her class.  Feeling guilty for her irritation, she overcompensated in her work and tackled the evidence with meticulous zeal.

            Dana practiced the tango steps over and over that week.  Often she’d have to wait until very late, after spending the day on an autopsy or crawling over a crime scene.  The whirlwind of dance steps was centering, creating an inner sanctuary where she could lose herself in her own motion.  She’d welcome it, taking off her suit and dancing in her underwear and heels she’d slide and shift all around the hotel room.  After a while she’d worked up a sweat, only aware of the burn of her muscles, her pounding heart, her fast breathing, her mind felt clear again and she felt peaceful.  Then she’d take a long hot shower and fall asleep.

            On the last night away Dana dreamed very vividly of Frohike.   In the dream, they were kissing in front of the Cuban Flame and it was just as wonderful as it had been when it happened, but he didn’t part and walk away.  She just kept kissing him, letting it grow more and more passionate.  He responded in kind, running his hands over her back as he drew her closer.  They ended up in the Gunmen’s van, she sitting on his lap, kissing him over and over, grasping at his clothing, opening his buttons, feeling his hands on her skin under her blouse and bra.  She held him closer, scratching his back, pulling his face to her breasts – gasping and growling as his mouth preyed on them.  It was hot, urgent and filled her consciousness.  They shifted, like they were dancing again and he was free and she was open.  He was buried inside her and she loved it and him.  It was so erotic that she was breathless when she woke.

            She thought of the dream a lot on the long flight home.  

            Saturday afternoon, Dana watched the tape Frohike gave her.  The film was an intoxicating blend of fantasy and reality set during the making of a tango musical, punctuated by exquisitely shot dances.  She watched some numbers repeatedly, absorbed in the seemingly impossible combination of passionate concord and conflict in the movements, imagining herself in the women’s places. She laughed at herself when she realized that her favorite dance in the movie had a younger red-haired woman with an older, more experienced male partner. 

            Dana prepared with extra care for class.  She showered and washed her hair.  She combed mousse through her still damp hair and pulled it back and clipped it, giving her hair a sleek appearance.  Pulling garnet earrings from the jewel box, she put the oval studs in her ears.  She powdered her under-arms, breasts and inner thighs, then slipped into her lingerie.

            Frohike found her physically attractive; she knew that.  Nobody could kiss like that without desire.  But why not in Las Vegas?  Was it just because she was drugged?  It was embarrassing how she acted but her attraction wasn’t out of thin air.  Did the fact she came on so strong intimidate him, or was his flirting all these years just a game, a way for him to tease her?  Perhaps the attraction took him by surprise as well.

            So what if she did have sex with him?  Seduce him, since he seemed to be following her lead for the most part.  Dana was sure he’d be willing, and her dream proved that she wanted that, too.  What about afterwards?  Would they go back to just being friends, with the class just being the tie between them? When it was over they would return to normal?

            Dana removed her gold cross and picked up a silver necklace of garnet beads with a faceted garnet pendant.  She slipped it around her neck.  The deep red of the stones glowed against her fair skin. She shook out her new silk skirt and stepped into it.  Drawing it up, she zipped and buttoned it.  She drew on her sleeveless blouse next; buttoning up and fiddling with the collar so the necklace was visible.

            She didn’t want to go back to normal now.  She enjoyed the companionship, the talks, and the sensual tendrils of desire between them.  She had been happy, happier than she’d been in ages.  She wanted to fall in love, and to be in love in a way she hadn’t been in a long time. 

            What if Frohike wasn’t interested in a long romance?  He was like herself, working a job that called for a lot of long hours and last minute travelling.  She should be grateful she had only been called away once since the class had begun.  Dana knew in her heart that she still wanted a family.  With her fertility problems and the loss of Emily, she’d almost given up on that dream and that loss had devastated her.  Marriage?  She hadn’t given much thought for that hope since her last serious boyfriend accused her of being more involved with Mulder and the FBI than anyone else.  Could another man understand what a commitment the Xfiles was?  Or was she fooling herself…

            Frohike was searching for the truth too, and he loved Mulder as a friend.  She knew that.  So maybe he could understand her partnership without jealousy.  Perhaps if she had a partner in her private life, she could keep her relationship with Mulder within reasonable boundaries.  Maybe then she could stop reaching for more than Mulder could give.

            Maybe, maybe, maybe.  She told herself.  It all comes down to maybe. 

            Looking at herself in the mirror, she noticed her color was high. She smoothed on some moisturizer, then dusted on some powder.  A bit of red lipstick and some mascara finished the look.  She chose to leave her little mole uncovered.

            Dana sat on the bed and put on her shoes.  Then she got up and went hunting for her purse and keys.  Gathering them up with a sweater, she left for class.

            Dana walked into the Center and discovered that she had gotten there before Frohike.  She walked around chatting with a few classmates, when she bumped into Carol.  Carol looked at Dana’s necklace and gave a gasp of admiration.

            “Dana, what a beautiful necklace!”  Carol gushed.  “I just love garnets.”

            “So do I.  I got it when I was on a work trip in Louisiana.”  Dana smiled.  “New Orleans has tons of beautiful garnet jewelry all over the French Quarter.  I think every shop on Royal had some.”

            “Are you a Capricorn?”  Carol asked. “That’s the stone for Capricorn.”

            “No, Pisces.”  Dana was amused by the question. “Amethyst is supposed to be my stone.  I have a couple of pieces of it, but I really like warm earth tones and the purples tend to be a bit cool against my skin.”

            A movement at the edge of her vision caught her attention.  She turned and found Frohike looking at her, holding his hat against his chest.  He exhaled slowly, and stepped toward her.

            “Dana, you look beautiful.” He said, “You always look beautiful, but tonight, whoa…” He gave a low whistle, “You look, just, just, whoa.”

            Dana smiled and blushed. “Thanks.  You’re looking good yourself.”  She did like his black leather and red silk tango outfit.  He wore it well, with a confidence that made more of an impact than many a pretty face.    

            He grinned, “Yeah, but nobody notices the band when the jewel is so exquisite.”

            She took his hat and brushed his nose with the brim.  “Smooth talker.”

            Frohike caught his hat back and put it back on.  He took her hand and lifted it up and gave it a kiss.  “Come on, let’s go show everyone how the dance is done.”

            Dana’s late night practice sessions gave her good results.  She and Frohike danced so well that Scott and Carol used them to demonstrate moves to the other students.  Dana found she like being the center of attention - on his arm, moving so well, the music flowing through her.  She paid attention to his subtle cues and was able to improvise a little, moving her feet around his own in time to the haunting melody. 

            “You’ve been practicing.”  Frohike whispered to her as they returned to sidelines.

            She didn’t answer, just gave him a small smile.

            “It’s just so amazing how much everyone has improved in this class!” Scott declared happily.  “I can’t wait until next week!  We’ve gotten confirmation from the musicians!  Everyone dress up!  We’re going to have a party!”

            Carol smiled beatifically.  “A few of us are going to bring some snacks, cookies and a few things to drink for our little milonga.  Feel free to contribute, but no alcohol please, the center doesn’t allow it.  That will be our last class.  Now if anyone is interested in continuing on with the dance, please let us know and we can get together a new class.  It will be a way you all can develop your technique.”

            Dana looked over at Frohike and nodded.  He nodded back and squeezed her hand.

            “Keep dancing everyone!  See you next week!”  Scott declared with a small wave.

            Dana put a hand on Frohike’s arm, and he turned back towards her.  His arm went around her and they started to dance again.

            At the Cuban Flame they went to their usual booth.  “Want a beer tonight?” Frohike asked her, “Or maybe some Sangria?”

            “Oh, Sangria?  That would be nice.” Dana sighed with pleasure. “What is Pollo de Plancha?”

“Sounds heavenly.”  Dana took a sip of water.  “Maybe you could make the chicken dish for us sometime.”

            “I’d like that.”

            Dana fell into small talk, just easy conversation, while they waited for their food to arrive.  Once the smell of the stew hit her, her appetite awoke with a rumble.  The stew was hearty, and made her feel warm and comfortable.  They were silent, both concentrating on their food.  Dana took a sip of the fruity red wine.  “Frohike?”

            “Hmm?”  He looked up, eyebrows raised.

            “Have you thought about having a family?”  She took another sip, heart racing at the intimacy of the question.  She plunged on. “For a long time, I always thought there would be time, I took it for granted.  Then, when I got cancer, all I could hope for was getting through it – staying alive.  After that, I found out it was taken from me, I suddenly realized how important it was to me.  Emily, she was a miracle that I got to glimpse for myself.  I’ve been having fertility treatments.  In-vitro fertilization.”  She swallowed.  “I don’t know if you know that.”

            Frohike nodded, and reached out and rested his hand on hers.

            “It’s a long chance, but it is a chance for me.  Probably my last chance biologically.”  She blinked back a moist mist.  “I just…I just thought you should know.”

            “I never really figured on kids, really.  I was married once, years ago, way too young.  That self-destructed really fast.  No babies, which was for the best - no doubt about that…My wife…well, she wasn’t a maternal creature.  Later on, I met Nakita.  She wanted them one day, but I kept wanting to keep on the go, move with the action.”  He met her gaze with solemn eyes.  “There’s nothing like chasing adventure to avoid seeing how vacant your own life is.  So, I spent a lot of time treating family and marriage as something that was for the other guys.  Then, we found that baby a few months back.”

            He gave a slight grin at Dana’s astonished expression.  “He was the secret kid of a Senator we were investigating.  One of his people covered up the death of the poor little guy’s mom.  I hadn’t been around a baby since I was a kid myself.  You know what?  It’s not like riding a bike, and it doesn’t come all flooding back when you smell the talcum.”  This time, Dana squeezed his hand.  “For a while, he was just making us crazy, there was so much to do for him.  Finally, I put together this baby amusement seat so we could get a little work done.  Yves thought it looked like a medieval torture device, but I think the baby had a good time with it.”  Frohike took another bite of the stew, chewed thoughtfully and swallowed.  “Then, Langly and I started to manage and it wasn’t so nutso. We really liked having him around.  That got me thinking about kids and how they change you.  Once you have them around, it’s empty when they’re not there any more.”

            After they left the restaurant, Frohike walked her to her car.  She reached out and touched his face lightly with her fingertips.  She leaned forward and kissed him.  He kissed her back, gentle and warm.  She traced her fingers down to his jaw.  “Melvin.”  She said softly, caressing the sound of his name, hoping that once again a first name wouldn’t be forbidden to her.  Before he could say anything back she kissed him again, deeper, with more passion.  His response mirrored hers in harmony, more pressure, the brush of his tongue against her own, and his hands holding her close.

            She looked into his eyes and he met her gaze with a look of such calm, that she felt safe.  She could ask him anything, to go anywhere, to do anything for her and she had no fear that he wouldn’t do it.  She swallowed her pride, “Melvin, in Las Vegas…why?  Why didn’t you kiss me then?  Was it just because of the drug?  Or was it me?  I know I was coming on strong…and I know I was silly…but…”

            “Oh, Dana.” He gave a grin, and shook his head. “No, it wasn’t you.  I was so mad because of what they did you.  At first, I just thought you might have been jet-lagged and had too much to drink…then I knew that something was just wrong…cause that kind of girly-girl attitude, that just wasn’t you.  Dana, you don’t have to do any of that kind of mini-brain bimbo bull to be attractive.  That just dampened the best parts about you…you’re so beautiful, so brilliant and elegant…Those assholes in that bar would have settled for your lovely face and an earful of empty chatter and would have thought themselves to be such hot shit to land you.  And they wouldn’t have known just how much they never saw…and they never would have bothered to look for.” He looked away, not meeting her eyes.  “It just pissed me off.  I was tempted, you better believe I was, and that made me mad, too.  ‘Cause you weren’t yourself, you didn’t know what you were doing.  I couldn’t take advantage of that, Dana.  Not cause I’m noble or anything.  Just cause I couldn’t bear the idea of how’d you’d look at me the morning afterwards.”

            “Frohike…” Dana’s voice was thick with tenderness.  “I might have been drugged, but I wasn’t faking it.  I do like you, and I was silly, but my attraction was sincere.”  She gently stroked his brow until he met her eyes.  “I care about you.  Over the last few weeks, I’ve been realizing that I care about you in a deeper way.”

            “Dana, I’ve always cared about you.  Always.”

            “You’ve always been my friend, and I’m grateful for that.  I think, though, I want to reach for something more in my life now.”  She kissed him softly.  “I’ll understand if that’s not how you feel or what you want…”

            He kissed her deeply, taking her breath away.  When he pulled back she could see the shine of unshed tears in his eyes.  “Dana…oh, God.  Dana…” He kissed her again, and she put her arms around his neck and held him. They stood together lost in the embrace, out of time.  Dana jumped when the ringing of a cell phone cut the silence.

            It wasn’t her phone.  Frohike dug his out of his pocket and answered it with a bark. “Hello!  Langly, this better be awfully damn good!  What did Byers find?  Tonight?  Is he off his tree?  What about Jimmy?”

            Dana bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. 

            “No, I don’t.  All right, all right.  I’ll be right there.”  He turned his phone off.

            “You have to go.”  She gave a small smile. 

            “I will not murder my friends.”  He hugged her close.  “Even when they really deserve it.”

            “The hunt for truth is at all hours.”  She kissed his cheek.  “See you next week?”

            “Next week.” He kissed her back. “Goodnight, Dana.”

            “Oh, and thanks…” She said with a smile; touching his cheek.

            “For what?  You picked up the check tonight.”

            “For letting me call you Melvin.” She kissed him again. “Goodnight.”

            Dana stayed in bed late on Sunday morning, replaying the events of the previous night over and over.  Thinking of the admissions they’d made - the kisses they shared - flooded her with delight.  If he hadn’t been called away she’d have asked him to come home with her. 

            She reached over with one hand and felt the empty side of the bed beside her.  It would be strange to have someone there after so long.  She wondered what it would be like, having him there.  Would he cuddle her close after they made love and just doze? Would he snore and steal covers?  Would he smile at her after they awoke?

            She laughed at herself.  She was getting silly now. 

            Dana was going to take a lover.  She was almost giddy with excitement.  She was stepping out, taking the risk herself.  She wasn’t waiting for some guy to make the decision and make the first move.  She was consciously letting herself get closer to the edge and now she was ready to dive in…and Frohike was willing to jump with her.  It was exhilarating.

            He trusted her.  He didn’t have to declare it to her.  He showed it with every touch he gave to her.  He had patiently followed her lead, never pushing, trusting her not to leave him hanging or hurt.  Frohike was so calm, so peaceful, so accepting of what she offered.  With him she felt safe, she felt beautiful.  He was unlike anyone she’d ever been with.  They were an odd pair, true, but they seemed to just fit.

            Dana rolled on her side and hugged her pillow.  She was now going to plan a seduction.  Since they hadn’t been able to get together after the lesson the other night, she was going to take advantage of the delay.  She was going to plan something special.

            She covered her eyes with her hand and shook her head with embarrassment as she remembered her last attempt at seduction.  In Florida with Mulder, he’d bailed out of a partner communication seminar on a frivolous excuse.  Or so she had thought at the time.  Convinced that he’d been just trying to get out of the seminar to play hooky, she decided she’d play the game too.  She’d gone to her own motel room, taken off her suit and removed her underwear.  Then she’d put her suit back on and showed up at his room with a plate of cheap wine and cheese.  She was sure he’d see the blush on her cheeks and her smile and know she had something planned.  She couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he would slip his hands under her blouse and discover she was bare underneath.

            He hadn’t.  Mulder had jumped up to go and chase moth men.  The most erotic thing that happened that trip was that he’d fallen asleep in her lap while she sang old sixties songs. 

            It had been a disaster and a blow to her pride.  Some time later, Mulder tried to return the favor.  They’d gone to California after returning to the Xfiles to investigate the disappearance of some homeowners in a gated community.  Mulder didn’t take the case at all seriously and accused her of taking the case just so she could ‘play house’.  That had irritated her so much that when he made his half-hearted pass she sent him to sleep on the sofa.  The fact that the case had been an X-file and she’d been proven right, but that was small comfort. 

            Well, hopefully, Frohike wouldn’t run into the night. 

            Dana went on a cleaning binge preparing for Saturday.  She made the apartment shipshape from top to bottom.  She took her best bed linens to the cleaners. She bought fresh aromatherapy candles that she placed artistically around the bedroom. She stocked up with a six pack of Corona, red and white wines, and a bottle of rum.  She didn’t know what she could do about food.  Probably after the lesson they’d go to the Cuban Flame and get dinner.  Maybe she could pick up a cake or something to have here afterward.

            At work she was cheerful and distracted.  She gaze off, woolgathering, and would miss what Mulder was saying half the time.  She’d had to rewrite the same report three times on Monday, because she’d lost her train of thought so often.  On the other hand, Mulder mentioned that she’d never laughed so much at his jokes before.

            During her lunch hours and after work she went searching for a dress.  She wanted to find the perfect dress, one that she could dance in and would make her look fabulous.  Of course trying to find a dress that wasn’t made for someone with legs that went on forever or that didn’t look make her look like she was a schoolgirl was turning out to be incredibly difficult. It took seven stores before she found it on Wednesday. 

            The dress was beautiful.  It was sage green water silk with a halter cut.  The full skirt stopped two inches above her knee.  The color set off her skin and hair perfectly.  The dress exposed more of her back than she was used to, but felt marvelously daring. 

            All her plans were coming together. 

            Then she walked into the office Friday morning and Mulder had two plane tickets on his desk.

            Dana was quiet on the flight to Louisiana.  She had the case file on the tray in front of her, unopened.  Her glass of orange juice and package of peanuts sat next to it, untouched.  She gazed out the window. 

            “Hey Scully, you okay?”  Mulder asked as he surreptitiously stole her peanuts.

            “I’m fine, Mulder.” She said absently.

            “Uh, I don’t want to give the impression I don’t believe you, but you haven’t even opened the case file since we left the office.” He pointed out as he opened the foil packet.

            “I’m sorry.” She picked up her orange juice and took a sip.  “I just had hoped we wouldn’t have to leave town this week.  I’ve been taking a class, and I didn’t want to miss any.”  She ran her fingertip over the lip of the plastic glass.  “Saturday is the last class night and I was really looking forward to it.”

            “Cheer up, Scully.  Maybe it’ll wrap up early.  Been known to happen.”  He said as he dropped some peanuts in his mouth.  “What are you studying?”

            “I’m taking a dance class.”  She gave him a small smile.  “A tango class, actually.”

            Mulder leaned back in his seat and laughed. She looked at him, eyebrows knitting.  “What’s so funny?”

            “So that explains it.”  He grinned.
            “Explains what?”

            “When we were in Nebraska at the motel, I could hear this music and a voice talking and singing in Spanish coming from your side of the wall.  I was afraid you were watching some Mexican soap opera or Austin City Limits or something.”  He ate some more peanuts.  “So, how is the class going?  You like it?”

            “Yeah, I like it a lot.  I’m doing well.  I have a marvelous partner.”

            “Better be careful, Scully, you know a lot of guys take these classes just to pick up women.  Hope your partner isn’t a flashy Miguel.”  He said in a patronizing big brother voice.

            “No, he’s not.  He’s actually very nice.”  A playful smile tugged at her lips.  “We’ve even gone out to dinner a few times.”

            “Oh, really?  What do you know about him?  What’s he like?”  Mulder asked, curiously, not quite approving.

            “Well, I haven’t run a background check yet.” She told him.  “He’s nice, he’s smart and he’s funny.  Actually, he’s a lot like one of our friends.”

            “Which one?”

            “Frohike.” She said, meeting his eyes, keeping herself from laughing.

            “Oh, really?” Mulder laughed.  “Well, you’re probably pretty safe – Fro always respects the fact that you carry a gun and he seems okay with the whole worshipping you from afar.”  Mulder chewed his ice.  “Does that put this guy in the same height bracket?”

            “Sometimes it’s good to be eye to eye, Mulder.”  She said softly.  With a sigh, she opened the folder and started to read.

The woman had been naked, blindfolded and gagged, and tied with rope at the ankles and wrists that was looped around her neck.  At the ankles, she was wearing a set of iron manacles connected by a short piece of chain.  The body had been folded up and inside an old industrial barrel.  The barrel had been on its side, under a large shady oak.  What made the case of particular interest for Mulder was that the body had been found on the grounds of an old, allegedly haunted plantation house. The corpse was found a month after a group of amateur ghost hunters had fled from the home before dawn.

            A dead body and a haunted house – something for everyone, she thought.

            Loaded down with papers and full of a dinner of gumbo, rice and fried bread, Dana got to her motel room.  She put her papers on the table and sat on the bed to take off her shoes.  Shoes off, she fell back on the bed with a tired sigh. 

            The case was interesting, she had to admit it.  However, she highly doubted that they would be able to wrap it up in one day.  She was going to miss the final class.  So much for her grand seduction plans.  Sometimes she really felt like God was laughing at her.

            She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and hit Frohike’s number on her memory list.  She waited for him to pick up.

            “Hello?”  His voice made her smile.

            “Hi, Frohike, it’s me.”

            “Dana!  Hey, how are you?”

            “Not terrific.  I’m in Louisiana on a case.”  She said dourly.

            “Oh, man.  Don’t tell me, you’re gonna be there a couple of days.” 

            “I think so.  The case is pretty interesting, though.  I have a dead body and Mulder has a haunted house.”

            “So, something for everyone.” He laughed.

            “I probably won’t be back by tomorrow night.  So, will you make my excuses?” 

            “Sure, if you want.  Look, I don’t have to go…”

            “No!  I want you to go!  You can tell me all about it when I get back.”  She insisted.  “One of us should have a good time.”

            “I’ve got an idea.  Why don’t I take a digital with me and take some pictures for you.”  Frohike suggested.

            “Thank you, that would be wonderful.”  She was touched.  “I’d like to see everyone in their finery.  I really hate having to miss it.”

            “Well, I’ll keep my hopes up that you can get back early.  If you don’t I’ll make sure it’s well documented.”

            “I’ll call you tomorrow to let you know either way.”  She noticed the clock.  “God, I forgot the time change.  Sorry, I’m calling so late.”

            “No, it’s fine, I’m doing some layout. How’s Mulder doing?  Having fun?” 

            “He’s watching the videotape footage of some amateur ghost hunters.  We’re going to be writing two very different reports about this case, I can tell already.  I’m having a sinking feeling he’s going to want to go out there in the middle of the night.  Probably dragging me along.”

            “And he wonders why he never gets dates.  I always tell him that haunted houses just aren’t as popular as dinner and dancing with the ladies.”

            “True, but you have to admit the dress requirements are more lax.”  She grinned. 

            “Point.  Be careful and keep him from getting in too much trouble?”  Frohike asked fondly. “You sound like you need to crash.  Get some sleep, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

            She started to deny that she was tired, but a yawn overcame her.  “Yeah, okay.  Goodnight, Melvin.”

            “Night, Dana.”

            She turned her phone off and set it on the nightstand.  She forced herself up to change before she fell asleep in her clothes.

            Dana was curled up in bed, and he was curved around her.  She could smell him, masculine and earthy, the lingering tang of his cologne clinging to him.  Pillows bunched up, the rasp of his beard against the nape of her neck, the warmth of his breath.  She whispers, “Melvin.” She tugs his arm around her body, curving his hand to her breast.  He kisses her shoulder, half asleep.

            She’s wrapped in a sleepy cloud herself, her body more awake and aware than her mind.  She covers his hand with her own, stroking his fingers as he massages her breast, her nipple stiff under his hand.  He rubs her breastbone, too, feeling her heartbeat, and kissing her shoulder and neck.  She can feel his erection stiffening against the curve of her ass.  She wants to purr like a cat, she’s so comfortable. 

            Dana arches her neck, so he could lick her ear and nip her lobe.  The feel of his hand on her breasts is lovely.  He massages them a little more roughly, pulling on her nipples.  She groans, the sound coming from deep inside her.  She wants him to take her, but she doesn’t want to move.  Her hand drifts down between her legs.  Her vagina is lush, damp from previous lovemaking, but warm and ready again.

            He starts to move his hand from her breasts to her hip, but she stops him.  She puts his hand back to her now aching nipples.  She moves her own hand to her leg, moving it forward.  He shifts, drawing his leg over hers, pressing forward, and slowly, deliciously slowly - fills her with his hard cock.  She moans with pleasure.  His fingers tug her nipples, the slight stress, the intensity a contrast to the slow tenderness of his joining to her.  His soft whisper, “Oh, yes, lover, yes.”

            He is deep inside her.  He can’t withdraw very much from this position, so his thrusts are short and slow.  She feels full, overflowing with pleasure.  His fingers drift up and stroke her throat, her jaw.  She turns her head to kiss them.  Her fingers dig into her thigh.  “Oh, god, yes…that’s so good.”

            His lips are on her neck again.  “Oh, Dana.  You make me want you so much.”  His fingers trace over her mouth again and she moans into them and kisses them.  He draws his hand back down to her breasts again.  “Like this, baby?”

            “Harder,” she whispers with a smile, “I won’t break.  Oh, yes, like that…oh, good.”

            It was good.  She felt like she was underwater, floating in ecstasy.  She felt she could stay lost in these feelings, it was like being outside of time.  There was no awareness of anything other than loving.  It was beyond excitement, it was sheer bliss. 

            His breathing was deep and resonant.  She could feel the shift in him, trying to compel them towards orgasm.   Her hand moved toward her apex, but she stopped herself.  She didn’t want him to think he was doing anything wrong, when it was all so good. He noticed, though.  His hand left her breast and squeezed her fingers.  “Go on, love, touch yourself if you need to.  It’s okay.”  He kissed her ear.

            Her hand slipped under their legs and her fingers found their prize.  Gentle pressure was all she needed and she shook with orgasm.  She cried out into her pillow.  He moaned in pleasure at her climax.  He shifted beside her, pressing his hand into the mattress, so he could thrust more powerfully.  Her body shivered with it, reaching out to climax again.  He pushed in deep as he came.

            They collapsed together, reaching out to kiss each other, and a buzzing sound filled the room.  She turned to the noise and opened her eyes.

            The glowing face of her travel alarm greeted her.  She reached out and pressed the snooze button and closed her eyes again.  It was too late, the dream had already started to slip away.  She was alone in her motel bed, the covers bunched around her.  Her pajama bottoms had ridden up, fabric pressing between her legs.  Her nipples were hard.

            She opened her eyes again and looked at the clock.  She squeezed her eyes shut again.  Blushing, her hand burrowed under her clothing and slipped between her thighs.  It didn’t take long.  She gasped out, her body shaking as she came.  She stretched afterwards, and yawned.  The clock went off again, buzzing more insistently.

            Annoyed, she turned it off and sat up.  Tossing back the covers, she sat up and rose to go shower.  There was an autopsy waiting for her.  Sometimes, it felt like there was always an autopsy waiting for her.

            Dana was subdued on the flight home.  So was Mulder, though for different reasons – she was sure of that.  He was keeping a low profile after dragging her out to the mansion Saturday night to look for ghosts. 

Even though she had told him that the woman’s death was accidental, due to auto-erotic asphyxiation, Mulder was convinced that the supernatural forces of the house had to have something to do with it…even after she and Sheriff Boudreaux had found the girlfriend who had helped the victim with the bondage and helped her into the barrel.  The friend who told them that both girls shared an erotic fantasy about the house and its mysterious past and often played sex games on the grounds.  The girlfriend confessed, after a little coaxing, to neglecting to check on the victim because she was engaging in solo sex of her own and had not realized that her friend had passed out and had cut off her oxygen.  When she discovered her friend too late, she had panicked, taking the clothes and running away.  She paid a boy to make the anonymous call to the sheriff’s office.

            So, rather than listening to a live band and dancing the night away on Frohike’s arm, impressing him with her new dress, and bringing him home for passionate sex; she had spent Saturday night in a dark plantation house jumping at creaks, being startled by rats that looked suspiciously like a pet shop variety, searching through closets and furniture, having to check every box and bag for giant tree roaches, exploring whistling attics and finally finding a hidden room where torture and murder may had occurred…albeit decades ago.  Now, that was a trade, she thought sourly.

            To further deter conversation, Dana set up her lap top on the tray table and worked on notes for her report.  Sipping her coffee, she opened her mail folder and clicked the work off line option.  Scanning over the mail she downloaded earlier she searched for a particular name. She gave a slight smile when she saw it.

            God, he must have stayed up awfully late to get these in to me!  She thought.  True to his word, Frohike had taken digital photos of the last night of the class.  He’d loaded them on, so they were in her mailbox this morning.  She opening the jpg. File.     

            Everyone in the class had dressed up.  There were lots of fancy dresses with short skirts, lots of silk pants and white shirts, colorful ties and beautiful hairstyles.  Carol and Scott were fantastic looking in their outfits.  Colored lights illuminated the dancing couples.  He’d even taken pictures of the tables, groaning with food and soft drinks. 

Here was a photo of the band, who looked very chic in their dark suits…though Frohike had captioned the photo with ‘they only sorta sucked’.  There was a photo of the singer, looking sad and intense as he clutched the microphone.  Frohike captioned this one ‘There are many Argentinean singers that are in absolutely no threat of losing their jobs because of this guy.’

            She was starting to wonder if he hadn’t taken a single photo of himself.  Then she opened the last two picture files.  They were both of him, dancing with Carol.  In the first they were facing each other in a ready position. She saw that he had worn the red and black outfit that she liked so much.  Carol was wearing a beaded black and red brocade that matched perfectly.  In the second photo, they were caught in a movement, with him sweeping a leg around and she sweeping a leg back, with her head lowered and her hand held closer. She could see the classmates standing back and watching, impressed with the sight. It was a beautiful shot, and Dana felt the sting of wanting it to have been her. 

            Dana had to set her travel bag down to unlock the door of her apartment.  At long last, she was home.  Mulder had insisted they go to the office and drop off the paperwork first, confident that it would only take a few minutes.  A few minutes had turned into a few hours, but at least she had a head start on the case report.  She was frustrated and tired.

            She unlocked the door and stepped through.  She was met by the smell of cooking.  Garlic, butter and spices filled her nose.  The lights in the living room were low, and she saw that candles had been lit.  Her nerves suddenly went on alert.  Music was playing, the low rich sound of a tango.  She stood still, frozen for a moment.  “Frohike?”  She called out.

            “Hi.”  He came out of the kitchen, smiling, holding a wooden spoon and wearing a white heavy apron.  She relaxed.

            “You startled me a little.”  She confessed.

            “Oh, sorry.  I wanted to surprise you.  I figured since you couldn’t come to the milonga, I’d bring the milonga to you.”  He grinned.

            She just looked at him, not quite comprehending.  Then she looked past him to the kitchen where she saw paper bags on the table.  “Oh, wow.  That’s, that’s sweet…startling, but sweet.  I don’t know if I can be very fun, though.  I’m really wrung out.”

            He went back into the kitchen and returned without the spoon.  “You’re always fun.  Come on, you just walked in the door.  After a bath and some food in you, I’ll bet you’ll be ready to dance.  Here, let me take that.”  He walked over and picked up her suitcase and walked to her bedroom.  She followed, still a bit bemused.  He set the suitcase on her bed.  “I’ll draw a tub for you.  Want something to drink?”

            “Uh, yeah…a glass of wine would be great.”  She smiled at his back as he walked away.  This was so strange, but nice.  She wasn’t used to being fussed over like this.  She heard the water start running.  Dana slid off her jacket and tossed it on the bed.  Sitting, she toed off her shoes.  He came back, holding a wine glass and her terrycloth robe.  She took both with a smile.  “Thanks.”

            “I didn’t put anything in the water, I figured you’d want to get that yourself.”

            “Oh, good.  I may be a while.”  She warned him.

            “Take your time.  I’ll be cooking.”  He turned to go.

            “Frohike, wait…”  She rose as he turned back to her.  Leaning in, she gave him a quick kiss on the lips.  “Thanks for everything.  Sorry I was taken off guard.  I’m not used to people taking care of me.”

            He rubbed her upper arms.  “Give it a chance, Dana.  We all need to be looked after sometimes.  Now, I shall return to the land of food.”

            She smiled after him.  She undressed, threw on her robe and headed to the tub.  She felt the water with her hand.  It was a bit warmer than she usually had it, but it was good.  She sprinkled some Sore Muscle Relief salts into the water and climbed in.  Dana felt the tension ease out of her body. 

            Dana finally rose from the tub when the cooking smells set her stomach rumbling.  She went back in the bedroom and pulled her new dress out of the closet.  It only took a few minutes for her to get ready.

            She walked out and delicious smells came up to her.  Frohike looked up from where he stood by the stove, tortilla in hand.  He was smiling as he looked up, but then his eyes widened and the flat bread slipped from his fingers and hit the floor with a splat.

            “You dropped something.”  She mentioned.

            He looked down.  “Oh, fuck.”

            She laughed.  “Well, I guess it’s nice that this dress is worth the loss of a tortilla.”

            He picked up the tortilla and threw it away.  Moving around the table, he pulled a chair out for her.  “You look beautiful.”

            “Thank you.”  She sat down, placing her empty wine glass in front of her. “Could I get another glass?”

            “Sure!” He caught up the glass and filled it.

            “What ever you’re cooking, it smells wonderful.” 

            “Good.”  He grinned and pulled a dish out of the oven.  “Chile Rellenos.”

            She gasped in delight as he lifted the stuffed peppers onto plates.  He spooned sour cream to the side on the plate, and poured salsa over the top.  He placed the dish in front of her.  He passed her a napkin and silver.  She waited until he sat himself, and held up her glass.  “To a warm welcome home.”

            He grinned and touched her glass with his.

            The food tasted marvelous and she was ravenous.  She ate quickly, wishing she could slow down and savor it more, but she was too hungry.   He didn’t try to distract her with too much conversation, just let her eat peacefully.  After they finished, he took the plates to the sink and rinsed them off.  When she got up to help, he waved her off.  “No, I’m the one with the apron on.  Finish your wine.”

            He finished loading the dishwasher and took off the apron.  He was wearing the red shirt and black pants she liked.  He put his gloves back on and reached out a hand.  “Ready to dance?”

            “I hope so.  I don’t know if there’s enough room.”

            “Sure there is.  Let’s just shove the couch a bit.” 

            Frohike was right.  The music rolled around the apartment.  He took her in his arms and they turned to dance.  The beautiful notes moved around and through them.  She became the dance, lost in the movement, lost in his arms.  She felt free, open, endless.

            Dana only stopped between songs to sip her wine and to laugh before they launched into the next one. She had a nice buzz from the wine going.  She used every dance movement that she knew and improvised a couple of others.  He moved so gracefully, moving around her, supporting and guiding her.  She was having fun, she was happy. 

            By the time the CD stopped, her feet were tingling and she needed to take a breather.  She crashed on the sofa, pulling him with her.  “Oh, that was wonderful!”

            “So, all in all it was a good surprise?”  He asked.

            “Oh, yes.”  She sipped more of her wine. 

            “Want me to change the CD?” 

            “No.” She smiled at him.  “I want you to kiss me.”

            She leaned in a met him half way, gently drawing on his upper lip as he pulled on her lower one.  His hand came up and gently cupped her face as he kissed her again.  It was so sweet, sweeter than she’d dreamed. He tasted of good food and wine and she liked it.  She kissed him with more passion, slipping her arms around his neck.  She leaned into him and he moved back, putting his arms around her.  He drew her onto his chest and she felt his leather clad palms on her bare back.  It felt very good.

            The kisses grew deeper and more passionate.  She let her hands roam inside his collar and she opened a few buttons on his shirt.  She touched his chest, felt his soft body hair.  She moved closer, sliding on his lap.  One of his hands moved from her back to her leg, stroking her thigh.  She glanced her fingers across his wrist in encouragement.  She moved her kisses from his mouth to his jaw, drifting up to his ear.  He kissed her neck, lightly nipping the soft flesh.  Her breath caught in her throat.  She was getting wet.

            Her fingers undid the rest of the buttons on his shirt.  She pulled it back a little, exposing his shoulder.  She ran her hand over it, and then slid her palm to cradle the back of his head.  She pushed his head lower, arching a little to bring his lips to her breast bone.  His hand pushed her skirt up, petting her leg.  She could feel him getting hard under her. 

            Finally, she brought her hands to his face and raised him away from her body.  She smiled and kissed him on the mouth.  “Hi.”

            “Hi, back.” He smiled up at her.  “How about those Lakers?”

            “I…I…want…” she swallowed, closed her eyes and smiled again.  “I want this…to make love.”  She blushed and laughed at herself. “I guess I’m trying to say, I think we should take this to the bedroom.”

            “I think that’s a great idea.  The only problem is that I can’t get up.  I’d have to let go of you, and I’m not sure I’m able to do that on my own.” 

            She kissed him on the end of his nose and caught up his wrists and pushed them back.  Finding her feet, she got up.  “Now you’ve got to follow me.”

            “To the ends of the earth, or at least the apartment.” He reached out a hand.  She took it and pulled him up.  He came close and put his arms around her waist, catching her wrist up and giving it a kiss.  She stepped back in a dance move, pulling him with her.  They were moving to the hallway when he stopped.  “Oh, wait.”  He went to his coat and started rummaging through the pockets.  She crossed her arms and watched him with a grin, guessing what he might be looking for.

            His brow furrowed, and he seemed to be checking the pockets twice.  “I know I put them here.  I know I did.  Okay, one of the guys is going to get his ass kicked.”

            “Maybe Langly’s mystery relationship is progressing.”  Dana speculated.

            “I’ll kill him.”

            “No, don’t.”  She had to laugh, this was just too funny.

            “Okay, you’re laughing.” 

            “I have to.  You’re searching for condoms when you’re about to have sex with a woman desperate to get pregnant.”  She moved to him and took his hand again. “Somehow I just don’t think either of us falls into a high-risk disease group, do you?”

            “I don’t know, just look at our friends.”  He gave a rueful grin.

            “I trust you, and I think you trust me.  We’ll be fine.”  She kissed him again.  He kissed her back with such tenderness that she had to put her arms around him.  “Come on.”

            She moved ahead of him, leading him to her bed.  She stood beside it, and slipped off her shoes.  She turned to him,  and he stepped into her arms.  She hugged him close, feeling his warmth.  They fit so perfectly together, just like when they danced.  His hands moved up her back to the halter closure of her dress at the back of her neck.  Deftly, he unbuttoned it.  She pushed his shirt and vest back over his shoulders.  He kissed her passionately. 

            Dana’s dress slid down to her waist.  She reached behind her to unzip the skirt the rest of the way, so it could drop to the floor.  She hadn’t worn a bra under the dress, so she was naked save for her panties.  She stepped back a half a step, letting him look at her.

            “God. Oh, God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered. 

            Warm desire flooded through her as she looked into his face.  His glance of longing, tenderness, of near reverence touched her core.  She had never felt so beautiful with a lover before.  She reached out and took up his hand and laid it between her breasts.  Gently, she unsnapped his glove and pulled it off his hand slowly.  The warmth of his palm and the smooth skin against the curve of her breast.  It was heavenly.  Jesus, she loved his hands. She kissed his other hand and removed that glove as well.  She brought that hand to her face, kissing his fingers, letting her tongue run over them.  She made a happy noise as he cupped her breast with his other hand, running his thumb over her nipple and tracing patterns with his fingertips.  She caught his other thumb between her lips and sucked on it.            His hand on her breast applied more pressure, while stroking gently.  She moaned in pleasure and nipped his thumb.  His fingers touched her cheek delicately.

            He took his hand from her breast and slid it around her waist, drawing her close.  Slipping his thumb from her mouth, he moved in and kissed her deeply.  “Turn around.”

            She turned around and pressed her back against his chest.  She moaned as he kissed her neck.  His arms went around her, stroking her stomach and cupping her breasts.  She rocked her head back and rested it on his shoulder.  His chest hair tickled her back in a delicious way.  She reached behind her and stroked his erection through his pants.  One of his hands dipped down, slipped under her panties and felt her wetness.  She gasped and tightened her grip on him.  A soft sound escaped him.

            Dana pulled away and turned around.  She reached for his belt and unbuckled it.  He put his hands on her shoulders to steady himself as he kicked off his shoes.  She unbuttoned his pants, unzipped them and pushed them down.  He stepped out of them.  He was wearing a pair of red cotton briefs with gray trim.  She rubbed his stiff penis through them, then slid her hand inside to grasp him.  She leaned in for a kiss.  He moaned into her mouth.

            She broke the kiss and knelt before him.  She smelled his scent, of soap, clean sweat, and the earthy smell of arousal.  She breathed it in.  She carefully tugged his underwear over his hardness and down his legs.  He stepped out of them.  She looked at him intimately.  He was well-endowed sexually, long and thick.  She reached out and touched him, gripping him confidently.  Then, she leaned forward to take him in her mouth.

            She sucked on the head of his cock, her fingers stroking him up and down the shaft.  He moaned out her name.  She took him in deep, sliding her mouth over him, pressing with her tongue, tasting his essence.  He moaned again, the sound coming from deep inside.  She liked the feel, the taste of him.  Her fingertips moved through his soft pubic hair. 

            After several minutes, he pushed her shoulders back, forcing her to let go of her prize.  She looked up at him.  “Dana, please, stop.  It’s a  bit too wonderful, if you follow my logic.”

            She rose to her feet and kissed him, tongue exploring.  He caught her up, and fell back on the bed.  He ran his hands all over her back and down over her ass.  He ran his fingers over her curves and sliding under her panties.  He wound his fingers around the fabric and pulled them down.  She reached down to help him, moving away the last bit of clothing that separated them.

            Naked, she reared up and looked at his face.  She smiled fondly at him, happy in her fog of desire.  She reached out and gently took off his glasses.  She placed them on the bedside table with care.  Dana looked down at him and looked into his hazel eyes.  He had beautiful eyes, soft with excitement and desires.  She kissed him over and over.  His hands ran over her bottom, up her back and through her hair.  She slid a leg over to straddle him.  His fingers ran over her throat and back down to her breasts.

            “That felt so good.” Frohike told her softly.  “I can’t wait to taste you, too.”

            She gave a happy growl.  “Oh, yes.  But I want to feel you inside me first.”  She reached back and felt his erection, hot and heavy in her hand.  Stroking him, she moved back and guided him inside her slowly.  She gasped out as he filled her.  He was wider than she was used to and he pushed against her inner walls in the most wonderful way.  She relaxed and took him slowly, bit by bit.  It was consuming.  She smiled at him.  “Oh, I’ve dreamed of this.”

            She rode him, starting slow and getting faster.  He thrust back against her, hands on her hips.  Her breath grew ragged.  It was good, so good, better than she dreamed.  She felt full, full to bursting and it was amazing.  Her clit rubbed against his pubic bone, his fur making a delicious friction.

            She noticed that he wasn’t closing his eyes as he thrust, just gazing up at her like he couldn’t get enough of the sight of her.  That excited her even more.  She arched her back, grabbing her calves, so her breasts arched forward as she met his thrusts with her own.  Her orgasm was rushing like a river, rising up, carrying her along its fierce current.  One of his hands went from her hip to where they were joined.  His sensitive fingertips stroked her clit, and she drowned.  She gave a strangled, gasping cry as she came.  The shocks went through her over and over.  She slowly fell forward on to his chest.  His arms went around her and he held her close.

            “Easy, lover, easy.”  He kissed her forehead and cheek.  His cock slipped out of her.  Holding her close, he rolled to the side, resting her on the bed beside him.  She lay still catching her breath.  He kissed her first softly, then with more passion.  She smiled at him, and kissed him back.  “My turn to lead the next dance.” He whispered.

            He didn’t climb over her like she expected.  He kissed her throat and moved down her body.  His stubble scratched the soft flesh of her breasts.  His mouth closed over her nipple in a hard kiss.  “Oh, yes…” she groaned.

            By the time he moved further down her body, her breasts were alive and tingling from his attention.  Her belly fluttered under his kisses.  He moved between her legs.  Her vagina was swollen and hot, soaking wet.  Frohike kissed it lightly, and tongued gently at her swollen labia.  Her back arched like a bow.  She turned her head to the side and she bit her index finger.

            His fingertips lightly petted her hot skin.  His tongue moved around her hard over-stimulated clit, pushing the soft, delicate hood.  He pushed his fingers into her wet opening which longed to be filled.  She gripped his fingers.  She felt like she was going to explode from pleasure.

            He continued to make love to her orally until she shivered again with orgasm, touching her through the aftershocks.  She said his name and touched his hair when she rode the tremors out. She felt boneless as he finally climbed over her.  He slid his cock inside her smoothly.  He settled over her, and her legs wrapped around his own.  Her arms slid around his body pulling him close.  They fit perfectly.

            There was a feeling of serenity, a near trance state, as he thrust into her.  She was floating in ecstasy.  It was so, so good.  She tried to kiss him a little, whisper endearments, but it was difficult.  It was as if her entire body was liquid except for the center between her legs.  Just the sensations of being penetrated, receiving him, filled her consciousness. 

            His eyes were half-closed, his lips were parted, and his cheeks were flushed with color.  He raised up a little, and pushed into her harder and faster.  She brought her legs higher, to let him in deeper, and she cried out in excitement.  Oh, it was wonderful.  She loved the fact he was gentle, but still treated her like she was made of flesh and bone – not spun glass that might shatter.

            “Dana…Dana…Dana…” he gasped out, her name a mantra.

            She tighten her hands on his shoulders, digging with her fingers.  She pressed her face into his chest, holding him as close as she could while he came.  She felt him press hard, two or three times, then the warmth and the feel of his pulse deep inside.  She had been close to orgasm again herself.  He slid back, and then she felt his fingers caressing her clit gently.  She exploded, shaking, reaching down to grip his hand, press it close.  He kissed her, over and over as she rode the climax out.

            It took several minutes for Dana to get her breath back.   Finally, she turned to him and kissed him tenderly on the mouth.  She stroked his shoulder.  “Fuzzy little bear,” she murmured contently.

            “No, not a bear, El Lobo.  A wolf.  I’d never be tall enough to be a bear.”  He replied, kissing her forehead. 

            “A wolf?”  She smiled.

            “Arrroowwwhhh.”  He howled, which made her burst into laughter.  He held her tight and kissed her again.  She stroked his cheek.

            “That was wonderful.”

            “I can’t tell you how many times I’d dreamed about that.” He said softly.  “Well, I could, but that probably would be really disturbing.  For me, it was beautiful, Dana, just beautiful.”

            “Oh, Melvin.  Do you have any idea how special you are?”  She asked him.  She closed her eyes against the strong emotions welling up. “Let’s get under the covers and snuggle.  I don’t know about you, but it’s been a long day.”

            They got under the covers and held each other in a sleepy embrace.  Just as she was about to sink into sleep, Dana rolled on her side.  Frohike curled spoon-like around her.   She held his hand in her own over her tummy as she fell asleep.

Dana had rolled on her stomach during her sleep.  She heard a strange sound.  She blinked, trying to figure out what it was.  It was someone snoring softly.  She rolled over.  Frohike was still there, sleeping on his back.  His mouth was open slightly.

She looked at him in the faint morning light.  He looked so utterly comfortable.  Dana reached out with a finger and stroked his upper lip.  His mouth closed and he kissed her fingertip.  He opened his eyes, blinked and rolled over towards her.  “Good morning, sweet one.”

She rubbed his beard, and smiled.  “Morning.  How did you sleep?”

“Good.”  He leaned over and kissed her. “How about you?”

“I feel wonderful.”  She kissed him again and then looked into his eyes.  They were so soft, so full of love and contentment.  “Melvin?”

“Yeah?”

“How long have you been in love with me?” 

He didn’t turn away, but he swallowed.  He reached out and touched her face.  “I don’t know.  I think, I think I knew it could happen when you were in the hospital after you were abducted.  Mulder and I snuck your chart out in my pants.”  He looked a little embarrassed at that.  “It just kept growing, the feeling – over time.  It was a bit zen-like, just washing up when I’d see you or think about you.  When we started the class, I just let myself feel it all the time.”

She kissed him.  “I’ve been fighting loving anyone for so long.  My life, well, my life is so complicated.  I’m falling in love with you.  I don’t know where this is going to lead us.  But, I want it.  Let me love you?”

“Oh, Dana.” He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight.  She hugged him back, feeling warm and safe.  Feeling loved.

Finally, he kissed her and let her go. His eyebrows knitted and he looked at her.  “Uh, what are we going to tell Mulder?”

She smiled.  “Well, he’s an investigator. Maybe we should just let him figure it out?”  She kissed him again.  “Anyway, I think anyone who looks at us for more than a couple of seconds is going to see it when we look at each other.”

“I think that’s a safe bet.”  He kissed her tenderly.

Dana kissed him back.  All she felt was joy.