It was at my apartment, once again after dinner. For some reason -- either because they were tired, or because the wine was better than usual -- Mulder and Daniel both felt they shouldn't try to drive home.

I offered to drive them, but Daniel said he didn't want me driving all the way to Baltimore at that hour, and they never slept at Mulder's apartment if they could help it. There was too much chance that someone from the Bureau would see them.

I said I would drive them to Baltimore and then stay at my mom's, but when I called her house I got no answer, just the machine.

So I offered them my bedroom; I said I would sleep on the couch.

That got some protests, too.

"Look, guys," I said, getting a little exasperated. "Either you let me drive you home, or you stay here, but if you stay here you've got to take the bed. There's barely room for one of you on the couch, let alone both of you."

They accepted, not all that reluctantly, I guess, and went to bed pretty soon afterward. I stayed up, watching television with the volume up just high enough so that I couldn't hear them but not high enough to draw angry complaints from the neighbors. Around midnight I drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, I got up and made the coffee (funny, isn't it, how even with two intelligent, reasonably enlightened gay men for company, a woman can find herself doing most of the traditional female jobs?).

As I sat at my desk drinking it, checking my e-mail, I heard a car pull up out front.I looked out, mostly from idle curiosity -- I wasn't expecting anyone -- and saw my big brother Bill getting out of the car.

Oh, shit. I thought he was at sea.

Bill, you see, is in the Navy. He's a lieutenant commander, the same rank as Daniel, and he's a hard-liner all the way. "Don't ask, don't tell," makes him sick to his stomach, and he's proud to say so.

He hates Mulder, mostly because he knows Mulder's gay -- although, heaven knows, he has other reasons, which he will recite for anyone at the drop of a hat.

I think sailors -- officers and men -- are particularly prone to that sort of hatred. It's not a joke -- all those months at sea, and they'll find themselves thinking about it, maybe just this once ... and then they begin to loathe the men who might make themselves available for it.

Sad -- but it was going to be tragic if Bill walked in and found Daniel and Mulder in bed together. He, of course, had met Daniel; the Navy's not _that_ big, and officers with any rank at all usually encounter each other at some point in their careers.

I asked Daniel about my family the day I met him, and he said he'd met Bill and Ahab and had actually served on a destroyer with Charlie. That was just a tie between us; he knew I wasn't going to out him.

But Bill would. He wouldn't out Mulder, because of me and because he hates the FBI and doesn't really give a damn how many gay agents there are -- the FBI's problems are its own, as far as he's concerned, and to him, gay agents are a real problem.

But the Navy -- well, that's his family. His heritage. And he would certainly out anyone in the Navy he thought was gay, whether that person was my friend or not. Oh, yes, he would -- in a heartbeat.

There wasn't much time left to prevent a disaster -- and only one way I could think of to prevent it.

I jumped up and ran into the bedroom; I didn't even stop to knock.

Mulder woke up immediately, and he was a little puzzled by the intrusion.

"Scully, what are you doing?" he said, sleepily, raising himself on one elbow.

Daniel, of course, was still sound asleep -- the H-bomb hadn't gone off, and nothing less would wake him on a Saturday morning.

I only had a nanosecond to decide which of these guys my brother was going to catch me with. Of course, I wanted it to be Mulder; I would have given my hope of heaven for a chance to lie naked in bed with him, but I knew Bill had no illusions about Mulder's sexuality. If he found us in bed together, he would know we were covering for Daniel.

Whereas if he found me with Daniel ... it just might work.

"Mulder, get out of here," I hissed, urgently. "Go lie down on the couch and try to act like you're asleep."

"What the hell's going on?" he said, and then we both heard the knock at my door. I was in a near panic.

"Mulder, don't ask any more questions, please," I begged. "Just go, now!"

He got up, grabbing his clothes from the floor, and went. He and I communicate so well; he knew I had a good reason for what I was asking him to do and that this, whatever it was, was serious.

I couldn't figure out exactly what to do next; instinct of some kind, I suppose, just took over. I grabbed my T-shirt by the hem and practically ripped it from my body. After a moment's hesitation, I jerked my panties down over my hips, stepped out of them, pulled back the covers and leapt into the bed with Daniel, who was as naked as the day he was born.

Add "the feeling of a strange body next to his" to the list of things that will wake Daniel Reilly up.

Oh, boy, did it. His eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright in bed.

"Jesus Christ, Dana, what are you doing?" he practically sputtered, looking around wildly -- looking for Mulder, I suppose.

"Daniel, I don't have time to explain," I whispered harshly. "Just be quiet and play along, all right? You've got to."

He caught the urgency in my voice and complied, with as much grace as one could reasonably expect under the circumstances. I could hear Mulder opening the door, and Bill -- Blustering Bill, as I sometimes call him -- shouldering his way into my apartment.

"What the hell are you doing here, Mulder?" Bill was saying.

"I was sleeping, until you woke me," Mulder answered.

There was a short silence, during which I can only assume that Bill took in the meaning of the blanket and pillows on my sofa.

"Where's Dana?" he said, a little angrily. "She in her room?"

"Yes, but I wouldn't go in there if I were you," Mulder said, and I practically giggled. If he wanted Bill to come blustering in here, that was the way to make him do it.

Which, of course, Mulder knew perfectly well.

"This is it, Daniel," I said, very quietly. "Showtime."

With that, I wrapped my arms around him and planted a wet, wide- open-mouthed kiss right on his lips.

He jumped a little, but -- as I said -- Daniel was married once, and he does know how to do this. He put his arms around me and rolled over on top of me, and then his hands were in my hair and he was kissing me back quite competently.

And oh, it felt good: incredibly good, incredibly erotic.

I had never dreamed this would happen, that I would ever hold my sweet Daniel like a lover, feel his weight on me, feel his body against mine, feel his kiss in a way I'd never felt it before.

If I'd ever had any doubts whether I loved Daniel for himself, and not just as Mulder's partner, they were gone in that moment.

Sure, I knew we were play-acting, and that the erection Daniel was sporting was just the normal, physiological erection every man has when he wakes up, but still, I found myself hoping that he could feel, in this brief, incomplete physical connection, just how much I do love him.

And, honestly compels me to add, how much -- in that moment -- I wanted him.

Daniel is, after all, an incredibly attractive man, and he has a way with women, as I've said before. In fact, I was getting just a little bit wet ... and the way we were lying, it was entirely possible that Daniel could tell.

For the first time, I found myself feeling just the tiniest bit envious of Mulder.

Of course, just at that moment, Bill muscled his way past Mulder (which he couldn't have done if Mulder hadn't let him, but let's let him have his illusions, shall we?) and threw open my bedroom door.

The silence that followed was absolutely priceless. Daniel rolled off me and I sat up, pulling the sheet up -- although not so quickly that Bill couldn't see that, yes, indeed, we were naked -- and stared at my brother as though I were startled out of my wits.

I wasn't, of course. Scared to death, yes, but not startled.

"Bill, what do you mean by bursting in here like that?" I demanded.

Bill was standing there open-mouthed, gaping. Daniel, to give him credit, was the only one of us who seemed calm.

"Commander Scully," he said, almost laconically. "Good to see you again."

If I hadn't known better, I would have sworn I heard a giggle coming from my living room.

~~~~~

Long story short: Bill backed out of the bedroom, red-faced, stammering an apology, and waited silently in my living room (fuming, according to what Mulder told me later) while I got dressed.

Daniel came out, dressed in some of Mulder's extra clothes (thank God they're the same size) and carrying his uniform over one arm. He knew Bill would have a shit-fit if he left, as he sometimes did, wearing only the pants and shirt from his uniform.

Daniel seemed completely at ease, and I blessed him for his composure.

Mulder left first, shaking Daniel's hand and saying it was good to see him again, and apologizing to me for having gotten so drunk last night.

Bill stubbornly refused to rise from the sofa or even to look at Mulder, which amused us all.

Daniel left next. He put his hand on the back of my head and kissed me, the way you'd kiss a lover.

"Thank you, Dana," he said, looking into my eyes, and then he put his lips next to my ear and his voice dropped to a whisper. "And thanks very much for the compliment."

I looked up at him, and he had this all-too-knowing smile on his face, and I couldn't help it -- I blushed. I actually blushed.

I guess he did notice, after all.

He kissed me again, shook Bill's hand with just exactly the right we're-all-men-of-the-world air, and then he left.

Bill, it turned out, had come to get me and take me to Mom's for an impromptu welcome home party. He was on temporary assignment with the Atlantic fleet, and the ship had arrived home early; she had gone to the dock last night to get him, and he was staying with her until he could catch a hop back to San Diego, his regular duty station.

I told him, with all the cool I could muster, that I would be delighted to join them but would he please call me next time before coming over?

He grunted. That was a yes, for those of you who don't speak William Scully.

I thought I'd handled everything so well.

The one thing I didn't count on was that Bill would tell Mom what happened.

Now, Mom not only gives me endless lectures about the dangers of sex with bisexual men -- she knows about Daniel and Mulder, of course -- but she never misses a chance to tell me about some low-down, dirty, good-for-nothing who came to grief because she stole a friend's lover.

I've had almost three months of these lectures. And I'm tired of them, but I can't make her stop. I've told her the truth, and I keep telling her over and over, but that only stops her for a little while. Then the lectures start up again.

Apparently Daniel's acting -- and his physiology -- were entirely too good, and Bill's recitation entirely too accurate, for Mom to believe it was really just a cover-up.

I reported all this to Daniel and Mulder, of course, and they just laughed their heads off. They think it's funny as hell.

Of course, they've never been subjected to the patented Maggie Scully morality-lecture series.

"Think of it as a learning experience," Daniel advised. "I think it's kind of cute."

Yeah. Cute. He thinks it's cute.

I'm glad somebody does.

Next time, I swear, no matter how sexy they are or how much fun they are to play with, those two are on their own. I don't care how much they beg or plead or cajole, I will not give in.

They can get up and make their own damn coffee. I'm sleeping in.