"The Eighth Side of the Triangle"(24/?) by Susan Jameson
(DrBarnBarn@aol.com)
See part 1 for headers, archive info, etc.




WARNING: This part is really, really NC-17. Bail now if you're
underage or if loving, consentual but unconventional sex squicks
you.

~~~~~

As Father Frank Saw It

~~~~~

I knew from the moment I first saw Daniel Reilly that he would
come to me at some point during that long weekend.

Call it a sixth sense if you like, or just powers of observation
sharpened by almost 30 years as a Jesuit. Maybe it's a charism, a
gift of the Holy Spirit. I'd like to think so.

In this case, it wasn't too difficult. The first clue, of course,
was that unmistakably Irish coloring and Irish-American demeanor;
once I saw him, I wasn't too surprised to learn that his name was
Reilly. That made the odds pretty high that he was Catholic,
although probably -- like most gay and lesbian Catholics -- sadly
estranged from the Church.

The second clue was the rather surprising appearance of the ex-
wife. You don't see that a lot in this group; you might see them
at PFLAG meetings or Straight Spouse meetings, and you'll
definitely see them at Dignity masses, but not on hikes or
camping trips. Still, I thought it spoke well of both of them. 

Little did I know how much.

The third clue is one that can't be revealed, except to say that
Jill Reilly came to me first. 

After that, I knew that it wouldn't be long before Daniel showed
up.

He did. He knocked on the door of my cabin on Sunday morning just
after sunrise, while I was setting up my traveling Mass kit for
the Eucharist I planned to celebrate.

"Father?" he called out, hesitantly.

"Come in, Daniel," I said, as I arranged the chalice and paten on
a folding table. 

"I didn't know you knew me, Father," Daniel said as he came
inside.

"I always notice the new members," I said, putting my work aside
for a moment and reaching out to shake his hand. "But call me
Frank. If we run into each other in the city someday, you can
call me Father. In the woods, I'm Frank."

"You realize you're up against years of Catholic schooling here,"
Daniel said with a slight smile.

"I'm prepared to wager that I'm up against a lot more than that,"
I said, calmly.

Daniel was silent for a moment, but I could see the struggle
going on inside him, how troubled he was. Even if I hadn't heard
Jill's confession, I would have had no difficulty seeing that his
was a soul in deep distress.

"Daniel," I said, gently, "tell me what you need from me."

He looked up at me then, and his gaze was clear and steady. "I
want you to hear my confession," he said. 

I nodded. "We've got time," I said, gesturing toward the bunk.
Daniel sat down; I picked up my purple stole, kissed it and
draped it around my neck, and then sat down beside him and took
his hand.

We sat there in silence for a few moments, until he finally began
to speak. 

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," he said. "It has been five
years since my last confession ..."

~~~~~

I cannot speak of what Daniel told me, but I think I'm safe in
saying that it differed very little from any of hundreds of other
confessions I have heard as a priest in DignityUSA. I saw his
genuine contrition for his genuine sins, and I affirmed for him
his need to repent of those; I saw also his unwarranted guilt for
things that were beyond his control, and I spoke to him of the
need to form his conscience more carefully, with study and
reflection upon the true meaning of sexuality and of himself as a
gay man in the Church.

Conscience, the Church teaches, is the ultimate arbiter of what
is and is not sin. The Church can judge only in the external
forum; in the internal forum of conscience, only God can judge.

"I was taught that a well-formed conscience is guided by the
teachings of the Church," Daniel said. "I think we both know what
the Church teaches about homosexuality."

"You probably don't know as much as you think you do," I said.
"What you're talking about is a way of thinking about sexuality
that you learned through all that Catholic schooling, a way that
was, in your mind and conscience, the authentic Catholic doctrine
on sexuality. At the same time, you grew to know that your
sexuality did not seem to conform to what you had been taught."

"I think I always knew it, Father," Daniel said. "By the time I
was 16, I'd already made some ... experimental forays, I guess,
at Boy Scout camp."

"And you, being a good Catholic boy, made your confession," I
said. "I can guess what happened."

Daniel nodded. "Our parish priest heard my confession and ordered
me to quit Scouting. Scouting was good for most boys, he said,
but it was an occasion of sin for me, so I had to avoid it. My
father was livid when I refused to go back or to give him my
reasons for quitting. He said if I was too busy for Scouting,
which could help me get into Annapolis, then I must also be too
busy for anything else."

"Did you want to go to Annapolis?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No," he said. "I wanted to go to medical
school, and I knew Annapolis wasn't the way to get there. Anyway,
I had a fair idea of what I'd be facing at Annapolis. I needed
.. more freedom, I guess."

"You needed to be able to be gay," I said, and he nodded. "What
did your father do when you told him that you didn't want to go
to the Naval Academy, as I suppose you did?"

"He grounded me for two months, took away my drivers' license and
made me quit my after-school job," Daniel said. "And ... well,
let's just say he punished me for it."

"Let's not," I said. "This is the confessional. Let's tell the
truth. He beat you?"

Daniel nodded again, looking shamefaced. Dear Lord, why do the
victims always blame themselves?

"I'm sorry that you had to endure that, Daniel," I said. "It
sounds as though your father was quite harsh."

"In retrospect, yes, but at the time, it seemed only fair to me,"
Daniel said. "My father was punishing me for the wrong thing, but
as far as I was concerned, I deserved it much more than he could
ever imagine. Even now, that feeling has a way of sneaking up on
me from time to time."

"That's why I tell you, Daniel, that you must inform your
conscience," I said. "You have a special challenge to meet, the
challenge to be a sexual person and a disciple of Jesus. The
world, and the Church, have told you that this is impossible, and
that is what you must unlearn, the shame and guilt they have
taught you for who you are and what you do as a sexual being. You
must learn to speak of the truth that you know, that your
sexuality is God-given and wholesome, not disordered."

"Isn't it sophistry of the worst sort to say that?" Daniel said.
"I feel it in my heart, Father, but I also know what I was
taught. Who am I to say the Church is wrong?"

"The Church used to teach that lawful intercourse between husband
and wife for the purpose of procreation was sinful," I said. "In
case you hadn't noticed, they've reversed themselves on that one.
The laity took the lead in informing the ecclesiastical
authorities of their error on marital sexuality. But the
leadership hasn't caught up to the laity on gay sex yet. "

"But that's not the same thing," he said. "This is different."

"How is it different?" I said. "Your sexuality is your means of
communication and intimacy and deepening love between you and
your partner, Daniel. It is life-giving and life-bringing for
both of you. It is fun, and it is vulnerability. It is ritual. It
is power, and it is tenderness. There's nothing disordered about
that. There are so many facets of meaning and expression that you
have yet to discover."

"The Church says that gays are called to celibacy," Daniel said.

"Well, this one is," I said. "So are some other people I know,
gay and straight. But Christ has called us all to be loving, in
different ways. Daniel, make your primary concern the quality of
your relationship, not the sex of your partner. Focus on mutual
respect, caring, compassion, trust, understanding and generosity.
Reject sexual activity that is selfish or manipulative, that
harms or exploits."

"How do I know, Father?" he asked. "If I reject the official
teaching, if my conscience tells me to do that, what do I have
left to go by?"

"You recognize wrongdoing and sin in your sexual activity when
you realize that you have violated your personal convictions or
that your relationship with God has been harmed," I said. "To
have that knowledge, you must have a strong, active relationship
with God. That, I think, is the real reason you are here."

"Father, I could think about it all day and not come up with a
comprehensive list of the reasons I'm here," Daniel said, with a
wry smile. "I don't want to try to rebuild Rome in a day. I just
want to make a beginning."

"You have," I assured him.

I decided that was enough to dump on the poor man in one morning,
so I gave him his penance, ordering him to read an excellent book
called "What The Bible Really Says About Homosexuality," and
telling him he must volunteer his time with some organization
that provides medical care for the poor. "How long or how often
is up to you," I said. "Let the Holy Spirit guide you."

He made his act of contrition then and I gave him absolution.
Then he rose and embraced me.

"Thank you, Father," he said.

"Don't thank me," I said. "Just show up for Mass this morning. I
haven't preached to an empty room yet, but I'm always afraid
it'll happen."

Daniel laughed. "I'll be there, Father," he said. "And I think I
can round up a couple more lapsed Catholics for you, too."

"May God bless you, my son," I said, in my awful Barry Fitzgerald
imitation voice. "Just make sure one of them is that hunky
partner of yours."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Father, but he's Jewish," Daniel said. 

"Damn," I said. "In that case, there's only one thing for me to
do."

"Oh?" Daniel said. "What's that?"

"Catch him on his way to a Halloween party," I said, and he burst
out laughing. 

"You're not like any other priest I've ever known, Frank," he
said, still chuckling.

"You bet your sweet ass I'm not," I said. "Now, go get your
breakfast, Daniel. And go with God."


~~~~~

As Scully Saw It

~~~~~

When I went to Mass Sunday morning, it was with the full
intention of offering my prayers of repentance to God for having
treated Mulder so badly.

I really can't make any excuse for it. Quite the opposite: What
had annoyed me in the first place was the unwarranted feeling
that he and Daniel were ignoring me and leaving me out, which is
something I've always told them they should do if they needed to.
Add to that the not inconsequential fact that I was continuing to
sulk even though Mulder had taken the time to go walking with me,
just the two of us, and that wasn't even enough to satisfy my
royal ego.

What I couldn't admit -- what I scarcely dared even think -- was
that a large part of my pique stemmed from Daniel's obvious
jealousy over Jill and Rick spending time together. Daniel was
hovering around them like a helicopter seeking a landing zone.
When he wasn't doing that, he was with Mulder.

Jill, who seemed at one time destined to become a friend, if not
a good friend, was ignoring me as well. She was spending most of
her free time with Rick, but she was also spending a great deal
of time with Daniel.

Yes, I know that's why she came. I never said any of this made
sense in any logical way. 

But I was tired, and not back to my full strength yet, and I'd
had so much to endure over the past months ...

I know. I was rationalizing. I knew it even as I did it. 

And there was a deeper truth behind all of this, a truth that
terrified me so much that I could hardly bring myself to recite
even in my own mind the simple facts associated with it.

Jim was coming home.

He'd written back almost immediately after receiving my letter,
sending me a letter that was practically incoherent as he thanked
God that I was well, and thanked me for wanting to see him.

It wouldn't be long now, either. I called the family CareLine for
the Annapolis and learned that she was expected in port within
the next two weeks.

I did want to see him. I wanted to see him so badly that my
dreams were full of him, and in ways I would blush to describe.

I was also terrified of what I had unleashed.

For the first time since Josh Larrimore had entered my life,
there was a man interested in me who just might -- who would, if
I would let him --take the relationship all the way to the
bedroom and even beyond, who might want to take the place in my
life that a heterosexual man expects to take with a woman who has
acknowledged that she loves him.

I had acknowledged that, too, in my signature if nowhere else,
and Jim, for all his boyishness and nonchalance, is a perceptive,
observant, intelligent man. He knew what I was saying to him,
even as I kept my words careful and restrained.

And now I was scared to death because I had said it.

I cared for him. I liked being with him. I wanted him.

And yet something was still holding me back, and I didn't know
what.

So, childishly and selfishly, I allowed my ill-temper toward
myself to spill out onto Mulder. There was a part of me that
wanted to unburden myself to him, to tell him what I was feeling
and how confused I was, but that would have made it all too real.
For the first time since Jack Willis, I was choosing a serious
relationship for reasons that had nothing to do with Mulder and
had everything to do with the man I had chosen.

I wasn't sure he could bear to hear that, because it meant the
end of a certain level of intimacy he and I had come to treasure
over the years, an intimacy that I was certain could not survive
the introduction of a deeply felt romantic interest in my life.

So I told him nothing, and he took my silence for anger, and
responded with his own anger, and left me.

I deserved it.

Mass, however, did nothing to dispel my gloom; it rather deepened
it, because when the time came to "pass the peace," I saw Jill
make a beeline for Daniel, who took her in his arms and kissed
her very, very tenderly, whispering, "I love you, sweetie," in
her ear. 

Then he turned to me and ... shook my hand.

"The peace of the Lord be always with you," he said, smiling
warmly.

"And also with you," I responded, feeling sick at heart for no
good reason. Of course Daniel didn't want to kiss me in front of
Jill. That would have been unkind and inconsiderate, and those
are not Daniel's characteristics at all. 

When the Mass was over, and Father Frank had pronounced the
blessing on us, I ducked out the door quickly and walked down
toward the community hall in search of a second cup of coffee
and, I hoped, some solitude.

That was not to be. Mulder was there, and his face lit up when he
saw me.

"Scully," he called across the room. "Come here, I've got
something to tell you."

Sighing deeply, I poured myself a cup of coffee from the giant
granite percolator, wrinkling my nose at the acrid smell  -- it
was nothing close to fresh -- and dumped an excessive amount of
powdered creamer into it. What a lovely cup of coffee, and what a
perfect metaphor: Strong and bitter, with its nastiness masked by
things artificial and unwholesome.

You are what you eat, true?

Reluctantly, I made my way to the huge stone fireplace next to
which Mulder sat warming himself. He looked better than I think
I've ever seen him in his jeans and flannel shirt, his hair
combed loosely and just a stubble of beard. 

God, why couldn't this man be straight?

"What's up, Mulder?" I said, sitting a careful distance away from
him and taking a sip of my horrid coffee.

"Did you see Daniel at Mass?" he asked. "Did he tell you?"

"I saw him," I said. "I didn't get a chance to talk to him. Tell
me what?"

"Tell you that he agreed to marry me," Mulder said, and my heart
melted at the sight of his lovely face, of the joy that I saw
there. He was practically beaming. "Okay, I mean have a holy
union ceremony. But you know what it means to me, Scully."

"Of course I do," I said, and I laid my hand atop his. "Mulder,
I'm very happy for you, truly I am."

"Uh-oh," he said, looking at me warily. "Why do you feel the need
to assure me of that, Scully?"

"Because I know I've been an absolute bear lately," I said. "I
know how much you've wanted this, Mulder, and I am glad. I don't
want my ill-temper of late to convince you otherwise."

"Let's say you've been ... preoccupied," Mulder said, gently. "I
wish I knew what was wrong, Scully."

"You're going to think I'm being silly when I tell you, Mulder,"
I said, turning my head to hear what the noise was behind me.

It was Daniel ... and Jill was with him. He was holding her hand,
and they were smiling at each other tenderly. 

Neither of them seemed to notice me.

I turned back to Mulder, only to find his gaze fixed on Daniel --
transfixed is actually more like it. He had eyes for no one and
nothing else.

"I'm sorry, Scully," Mulder said after a minute. "I didn't catch
what you said."

I cleared my throat. "I said I'm fine, Mulder," I said. "Just ...
fine."

~~~~~

Sunday night As Daniel Saw It

~~~~~

God, what a weekend.

I honestly couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so happy, so
free and unburdened. Hell, maybe that's because I never did feel
that way before. Within less than 24 hours, I'd accepted Jill's
forgiveness, Fox's proposal and Father Frank's absolution and
badly needed counsel.

I felt like a new man.

Well, not literally. I felt like making a life with the same man
I'd been with for almost three years. 

I was even beginning to make some overtures of genuine friendship
to Rick Cameron, and he responded amiably enough to that, too.

Yep, everything seemed to be coming up roses for Daniel Reilly
for the first time ever.

Sunday night was a good time, too. Our little group had dwindled
.. not everyone had Monday off, although quite a few of us did,
and a little over half the group had departed that afternoon,
hiking back to the base camp and the parking area. 

Jill went with that group. I walked with her part of the way down
the mountain, and kissed her goodbye, after making her promise
that she'd call me now and then so we could talk. Cameron left,
too, along with his brother and his brother's partner. Father
Frank also left.

By the time I got back, the sun was getting pretty low in the sky
and the evening chill had already set in. There was a huge,
roaring campfire going and people gathered all around; unlike the
previous evenings, however, this gathering was pretty quiet.
People sat in small groups and talked in low voices, or sat with
a partner and shared a quiet conversation and a kiss or two ...

Fox and I were in the latter category. 

It was ... simply heaven.

And I was being as dense as a neutron star, too, because I failed
to notice that there was at least one person there who wasn't
having any fun at all.

I didn't realize it, in fact, until Fox and I got back to the
cabin and started getting undressed for bed.

Well, you know ... we were sort of undressing each other, but we
were taking our time about it. There didn't seem to be any real
hurry, so I moved slowly. I stopped several times to kiss him, to
run my hands over his body and feel him, to lower his zipper and
reach inside, to feel how hot and hard and eager he was, to feel
him doing the same to me with gentle, exploring strokes, not yet
meant to bring me release ... 

It was almost like an out-of-body experience to be moving so
slowly and not rushing at all.

That's why it was such a miracle that I even heard the soft noise
of small footsteps on the porch or the tiny gasp of surprise,
followed by more footsteps running away.

"Fox, hang on a minute," I said, putting my hands on his
shoulders. "I think someone's out there."

"It's a deer or a raccoon," he said, nuzzling at my throat.
"Ignore it; it'll go away."

"That was no deer," I said, pushing him back gently. "Just give
me a second to go see what's up, okay? Don't start without me."

"I make no promises," Fox said, flopping down on the bunks, which
we had pushed together and covered with our double sleeping bag.

"Troublemaker," I said as I refastened my jeans and stepped out
onto the small, narrow porch.

It was cold as hell out there, and I wasn't wearing anything but
jeans and socks. The ground was even beginning to frost lightly,
but the wind had died down, and it was almost deathly quiet. The
only sound was the creaking of the boards under my feet ...

And the soft sound of Dana's crying.

I stepped down off the porch, feeling the frost soak my socks and
shoot needles of cold through my feet as I walked. 

I peered around the side of the cabin, and there she was, sitting
on the frozen ground, leaning back against the outside wall of
the cabin, her head down on her knees and her arms wrapped around
her lower legs.

"Dana?" I said, and she jerked her head up, clearly startled.
"Dana, honey, what on earth are you doing out here?"

"I'm ... Daniel, I'm ..." she began, and then I saw the
tearstains on her face, glimmering silver in the moonlight.

"Dana," I said, and I sat down beside her and put my arm around
her. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"Oh, Daniel," she said, and she laid her head on my shoulder.
"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't be here. I just ... it was cold, and
Mulder said he had a sweater ..."

"Oh," I said, as the light went on in my dim brain. "I'm sorry. I
guess we should have locked the door."

"No, you shouldn't have to do that," she said, quickly, shaking
her head. "I should have knocked. It's just that the lights were
out and I thought you two were still down by the campfire ..."

"No further explanation needed," I said, and then I shivered as a
brief puff of wind blew over me. "But that's nothing to cry
about, Dana -- is it?"

"Daniel, go back inside," she said, rather shortly as she stood
up. "You're going to freeze sitting out here dressed like that."

"I will if you'll come with me and get your sweater," I said,
getting to my feet. "Otherwise, it's no deal."

She smiled at me then. "All right," she said. "But do me a favor,
Daniel -- don't tell Mulder what happened. I don't want him to be
self-conscious around me."

"You know better than that," I said. "I won't tell him, because I
can't see any reason to, but you and I both know he's the least
self-conscious person we know."

"True enough," she said, but the smile faded, just a little.

She looked so sad that I put my arm around her shoulder and
pulled her close. Nothing unusual about that ...

But there was something damned unusual in what happened next.

Gently, with a tenderness I'd never seen in her before, Dana
turned her head and placed a delicate kiss on my chest, just over
my heart. It startled the hell out of me; she must have sensed
that, because she turned her head and looked up at me, and there
were fresh tears forming in her eyes.

"I've missed you so much," she whispered. 

And that's when I knew.

Don't ask me how it happened, or why. I don't know. It's not as
simple as one-plus-one-equals-two, with the elements all neatly
defined and the answer dictated by rules and logic.

It was more of a Gestalt reaction, an "aha" moment when
everything seemed to click into place, forming a knowledge deep
inside me that I couldn't yet shape into words.

As I looked down into those loving, sad blue eyes, I could almost
hear Fox and Dana speaking in my head, in a point/counterpoint
that had been shaped into being over years, had woven themselves
into an intricate tapestry, a certain knowledge that this moment,
this night, would someday be.

(((I'm not straight; I've never tried to be or wanted to be or
even really pretended to be.)))

(((You can be proud of him, Daniel. It took all his strength, and
all his courage, but we made it out alive.)))

(((I want Scully to be happy, but I can't make that happen for
her. Not like that. She's better off with her dreams of what
might have been.)))

(((Daniel, it's Dana. Fox wants to be here with you. He would
give anything to be here with you, but they won't let him come
in. But he wants you to know that he loves you ... he loves you
very much ... and he'll be right here with you the minute they
say it's okay.)))

(((I've thought about it. Sometimes Scully just seems so damn sad
and lonely, and I know she still wants me ... )))

(((I love him, too, and I think, I hope, that, in time, we can go
back to where we were with each other before ... all this
happened. But it's so hard, Daniel, and I'm so afraid. I don't
want things to change between us.)))

(((There's always that little voice of cultural conscience
telling me that if I were a real man, I'd be able to get it up
with a woman. Well, I can't. You can, though.)))

(((Daniel, when you ... when you ... make love with him, is he
.. is he beautiful?)))

Yes, Dana, sweet Dana, he is. Very, very beautiful.

But they could never make that happen, could never have that
knowledge of each other ... they could never create that beauty
for themselves.

I could. 

I could make it happen, for both of them ... for myself, too.

But how could I be sure it was the right thing to do? How could I
know that I wasn't creating a worse problem, especially if anyone
involved wanted it to become a regular event? That, I knew, I
couldn't handle. 

Once might be all it would take to help Dana and Fox move past
this impasse that had plagued them for so long, to relieve the
intense pressure building up with all three of us. If it went on,
if we became a triad of sorts, there was every chance that
jealousy and resentment would begin to crowd out the love we all
have for each other.

But as I looked at her again, I realized that I already knew the
answer. Once was all she would ever take, all any of us would
ever need.

Just once, and she could be free to go on, to love someone else
with an even stronger love than she had for him ... and for me.
She could have a love that could sustain her and help her to grow
in a way that her relationship with us had all but ceased to do.

The rest of us were moving on with our lives, growing into the
new relationships we'd found, and Dana was being left behind,
tethered by the bonds he and I had forged for her, chained in
place while the tide of our separate lives rose all around and
threatened to drown her slowly and painfully.

She was drowning right now in sorrow, and she still wouldn't tell
me how lost and imprisoned she felt. She wanted to reach out to
Jim, to create something of her own with him, but every time she
tried, she shrank back in terror.

It was time for all of that to end.

And maybe, just maybe, it was time for me, too, time to have the
joy of easing someone's suffering through something life-giving
and good and rich with possibilities instead of just by
pronouncing -- or bringing -- death.

Maybe I needed it just as badly as they did.

Mutual respect, Father Frank had said; caring, compassion, trust,
understanding and generosity. Those were to be the hallmarks of
my sexuality.

And that is what it would be this night.

I bent forward and kissed her; gently at first, and then more
deeply, more like the kiss I had given her before I sailed on the
GW. I could feel how surprised she was by the way her muscles
tensed, but then her arms slid around my neck and she all but
melted into me.

I could still have stopped it there, made it no more and no less
than those sweet moments we'd shared in her car in the dark of a
January morning, but my mind was made up. This time, my courage
wouldn't fail me.

Slowly, carefully, giving her time to know what was happening and
to back out, I put one hand on her breast.

It was like throwing a lighted match onto gasoline-soaked tinder.


A sudden shudder went through her, and a deep moan arose in her
throat; her arms went around me even more tightly, her hands
twining themselves in my hair as she pulled me more deeply into
our kiss.

Any doubts I'd ever had about whether she wanted me were gone.
Not even Jill had ever reacted quite so strongly to me.

I brushed my thumb softly over her nipple, and I could feel it
harden even through the thick flannel shirt she wore. She moaned
again, more loudly, and pressed herself even closer to me, and I
felt the first shy, hesitant touch of her tongue against my lips
..

And then she jumped back from me suddenly, as if she'd only just
realized what was happening.

"Daniel," she said, her eyes wide and her voice shaking. "Daniel,
I'm sorry ... I didn't mean to ..."

"Yes, you did, but it's all right," I said, and I reached out to
touch her face. She leaned against my hand, and I put the other
hand behind her head and pulled her back into my arms. "Dana," I
said, very quietly, "come inside. Stay with us tonight."

"Stay ..." she repeated, sounding puzzled, but then she looked up
at me with a growing comprehension in her eyes. "Daniel, no," she
said, shaking her head vehemently. "No. That's asking too much of
you ... far too much."

"I didn't hear you asking," I said, stroking her soft cheek. "I
heard me asking. Come inside, Dana. It's time."

"Time for what?" she said. She was trembling all over, and not
just from the cold ... nor, I was certain, was it entirely
ascribable to fear. That made up my mind for me.

"Time to write the ending," I said. "Time to finish one book and
start a new one. Come inside, sweetheart. You know I love you ...
don't you?"

"Of course I know that," she said, softly, and laid her head
against my chest again. "I just don't ... I'm afraid ... I don't
want anything to happen that you'll be sorry for."

"I think," I said, quietly, cradling her head with my hands,
"that this is where we just have to trust each other and the love
that we all have for each other. I can't predict the future,
Dana. But I do love you, and I want you to know that I would
never, ever do anything to harm you."

"My God, as if I didn't know that by now," she whispered. 

"Then come inside," I said. "Let it happen. I promise you, it
will be all right."

She didn't answer me right away; then, slowly, she nodded, her
hair brushing over my chest softly.

I kissed her once more, and then took her hand and led her back
to the cabin.

When we came through the door, Fox was standing by the space
heater, still in his jeans, warming his bare feet. He looked up
when we came in, and I saw the question in his eyes: What's
happening?

Without a word, I held out my free arm to him, and he came to me,
and put one arm around me and the other around Dana.

"We're back," I said, and I kissed him. 

"I'm glad," he said, softly, then he looked at Dana. "Are you
staying, Scully?" he asked.

"I think so," she said, hesitantly. "If that's what everyone
wants."

He nodded then, and looked into my eyes. His gaze was firm and
steady, and there was no doubt in my mind that he knew what this
meant, what would happen if Dana stayed. 

He knew ... and he wanted it to happen.

"I love you, Daniel," he said. "More than I can ever tell you."

I smiled at him and kissed him again. "Let's go to bed," I said.
"And then you can show me."

~~~~~

As Mulder Saw It

~~~~~

Daniel was right: For someone with an Oxford education, I'm not
always very adept at expressing myself in the written language.

What happened that night, however, could cause a poet's felicity
of expression to go sour. All the adjectives in the dictionary
couldn't begin to describe the warm, loving feeling of a night
spent making love with the two people I love most in the whole
world.

It was something I had never thought could be, even in those rare
moments when I allowed my fantasy to drift there for just a
second. I couldn't imagine anyone being that unselfish, that
loving, that giving.

I should have known: If there were ever two people who could, it
was Daniel Reilly and Dana Scully.

Scully seemed a little nervous and scared at first; shit, so was
I. I had no fucking idea -- no pun intended -- how this was going
to work or what the consequences might be. I just knew that I
wanted it, wanted both of them close to me and, yes, wanted to
see them together.

Sounds like your typical porn addict, doesn't it? But that's not
how it was. I knew how they came to love each other -- it was
because they both loved me. They loved each other now, and in
many ways their love for each other was entirely separate from
their love for me, but in a great many ways, it wasn't. 

To see them touching and loving each other was almost a visual,
tactile confirmation that they found me worthy of love, worthy of
this ...

We began slowly. We all got in the sleeping bag, and at first, it
was no different than any of a dozen times we'd all slept in the
same bed or laid together on the beach except that this time,
Daniel and I were both naked. Scully didn't say anything about
that, but neither did she undress before getting in the sleeping
bag.

God, it felt good to be so close to them both. Daniel lay on one
side, I on the other, and Scully was in the middle. She laid her
head on Daniel's shoulder and I curled up behind her, holding
her, occasionally reaching over to touch Daniel or hold his hand.

After a while, I could feel Scully beginning to relax. Daniel
must have sensed it, too, because he rolled onto his side and
kissed her, and the sight of that kiss sent a shockwave of lust
right from my brain to my groin with no stops.

I'd seen him kiss her before, but never like this; never with
this awareness, this knowledge of what he meant to do next.

Scully put her tiny little hands on Daniel's face and returned
the kiss, then pressed herself back against me, turning toward me
for a kiss.

So I kissed her, and I felt her moving in that slow, sensual way
she had the first times I'd kissed her.

This was different, though. This time, I wouldn't back away and
go sleep on the couch.

I kissed her again, and again, and each time I did, she responded
to me a little more strongly. I felt her quivering beneath me,
and then I heard Daniel's soft, "Give me your hand, Fox." I did,
and he took it, and kissed it tenderly, and then placed it on
Scully's breast.

Scully's _naked_ breast. 

That was what had her shivering like that: While I was kissing
her, Daniel was unbuttoning her shirt and unfastening her bra.

I had a pretty good idea of how that was making her feel. God
knows, when Daniel starts undressing me with those strong,
talented hands of his, I get so hot I could set the woods on
fire.

I felt pretty awkward myself. I didn't have much experience to
draw on here. But whatever I was doing with my untutored
caresses, Scully seemed to like it ... a lot, to judge by the way
her kisses suddenly deepened, the way her breathing speeded up,
the way she whispered my name.

Unfortunately, my breathing was just fine, as was my heartbeat.
All that time we'd been just lying there, I'd felt calm, mildly
aroused but mostly just pleasantly warm and comfortable. I told
myself that would change when we really got started.

But it didn't. My dick, having once more a mind of its own,
didn't seem to care how much I loved Scully or how much I wanted
to please her. It was the fear that had kept me from doing this
all along, and now, it was real. I wasn't hard anymore. I liked
what I was doing, and I loved seeing Scully's response to it, but
it wasn't doing anything to me. 

There was no getting around it: Even Scully couldn't do it for
me. Only a man could, and I had proof of that right there with
me, because when I was watching Daniel with her, everything was
copacetic and I was hard as a rock.

Now, I was getting soft, and it looked like I was going to be a
flop --literally as well as figuratively.

It wasn't going to be long until she realized it, too, and I knew
it would hurt her. She knows me, and she knows I've never been
attracted to women, but all these years I knew she'd nurtured a
secret hope that it would be different for me if it were her.

And all those years, I'd been terrified to put that to the test.
Just now, it looked like that might have been the wiser decision.

I can only think that Daniel saw the terror building in my eyes,
because almost immediately after I had my gut-churning epiphany,
Daniel leaned over Scully and started suckling gently on my
nipple.

He was being much gentler with me than he normally is, but that
didn't matter. It worked; it worked like a fucking charm, and you
can take that any way you like. I groaned and arched my back,
pushing myself harder against his mouth, because this wasn't
quite enough. I could barely feel him. 

But I could also feel myself getting hard again, and that was
good, for damn sure. 

Then he stopped, and I opened my eyes and looked at him, and he
was smiling at me so damn lovingly ...

"What was that about?" I said, hoarsely.

"Call it a demonstration," he said, softly. "You have to be more
gentle with girls."

"Oh," I said, and then I looked at Scully. Her eyes were wide and
her chest was absolutely heaving, she was breathing so hard.

So I bent my head and took her nipple into my mouth, and she
cried out and put her hand on my neck to hold me there ... just
one hand, I soon realized, because Daniel was nibbling on her
other breast, and she was holding onto him with the other hand,
crying out and moaning and squirming the whole time.

I guess that meant she liked it. So I kept going, and so did she.

And then I heard Daniel's voice again, and I stopped and looked
up at him.

"Dana," he was saying, "sweetheart, come here."

"Daniel ..." she said, sounding confused. "What are ..."

"Just come here, honey," he said, very quietly. "I want you to
help me."

"Help you with what?" she said, still sounding confused, but she
turned toward him. He put his hand on her arm and turned her so
that they were spooned together.

"Help me make Fox feel good," he said. "Come on ... I'll show
you."

And he took her little hand in his, and put it right on my dick,
wrapped her slender little fingers around me and then closed his
hand around hers.

"Just like this," he said, and he began stroking me with her
hand, all the while looking into my eyes. 

Oh, Jesus ... oh, fuck. 

God, it felt so good, Daniel's strong hand guiding Scully's,
teaching her how to touch me, where and how hard to stroke me,
and I felt myself heading right for the edge in no time flat. 

I don't know if I was responding to her as a woman or not. A part
of me still thinks that my sexual response was mostly to Daniel,
to the knowledge of what he was doing to me.

But there's another part of me that thinks it was Scully herself,
her soft little body, her gentle love, her utter loyalty ... all
of the things that taken together, made Dana Katherine Scully the
beautiful, loving woman, partner and friend that she'd always
been to me.

And really, in the final analysis, it didn't matter. They were
both touching me, and I loved them both, and because of that, I
was about to have one of the great orgasms of all time.

Scully still looked a little afraid, but Daniel was holding her
close, cradling her against his body, and at last she relaxed
again and laid her head on my shoulder and kissed my cheek
lovingly.

"I love you, Mulder," she whispered. "You'll never know how
much."

I wanted to answer her, but I couldn't. I was too far gone. I bit
my lip to keep from screaming and then my hips were jerking
upward, everything in my body seemed to contract and leap upward
at one time, and I came so hard I damn near knocked the cabin
down. 

When I came back to myself, Scully was in my arms, her head on my
shoulder, and she was sobbing her heart out. Daniel was stroking
her hair and kissing her cheek.

"Something wrong?" I said, still a little dazed.

Daniel shook his head and smiled. "Nothing," he said. "Just a
little overcome, I think."

"I know the feeling," I said, and I rolled onto my side, taking
Scully with me. "Scully," I whispered, and then I kissed her,
kissed her tear-stained cheeks, her soft eyelids, her nose, her
forehead and then her sweet little mouth.

"Mulder," she whispered back. "Oh, Mulder ..."

"Shh," I said. "Calm down. Everything's okay."

"I know," she said, but she was still sniffling. "I just ... I
never thought I'd... I never imagined ... you really are
beautiful. So, so beautiful."

I smiled. "So are you," I said. "But for God's sake, don't cry.
You just made me very happy, and that's nothing for anyone to cry
about. Anyway, I think it's your turn now."

"Oh, no," she said, sitting up a little and shaking her head.
"That's all right. Really. It takes me a pretty long time, and
.."

"Why don't you let me try it anyway?" Daniel said, taking a lock
of her hair in his fingers and twirling it gently.

"You? Daniel, you want to ... I mean ..." Scully stammered,
rolling onto her back so she could see him. 

"What, you think I can't do it?" he said, and that mischievous
grin came back. "It's been a while, but I don't think I've
forgotten how."

"Forgotten how to do what?" I said, all wide-eyed heterosexual
innocence, but neither of them answered me. I wasn't trying to be
a pain, either; I really didn't know.

Scully did. Oh, yes, she did, and she liked the idea very, very
much. That was easy to see, especially when she reached for
Daniel and pulled him down to her for a kiss and Jesus H. Christ,
if I hadn't just come my fucking brains out, I'd have gotten hard
all over again at the sight of it.

Then she laid back against me, her back to me, and I put my arms
around her. Daniel kissed her again, and then me, and then ...
well, then I got a big lesson in why women like oral sex. 

I can only suppose that Daniel was pretty good at it. God knows,
he's good at it with me, but I think the two processes are
different enough that it was almost a matter of being ... well,
bilingual, for want of a better term.

Okay, I sound like a dork. But this was ... pretty amazing.
Daniel eased her out of the rest of her clothes, and then his
head was between her legs and Scully was crying out, writhing in
my arms, reaching down to touch Daniel ... in short, showing all
the signs of sheer, unmitigated ecstasy.

Knowing that he had that skill, seeing him do that to her, just
made me want him even more, and I didn't think that was possible.
His body was so beautiful in the moonlight and his hands were so
gentle on her flesh. I felt an absurd rush of pride, rather like
what I suppose a parent must feel when a child does something
precocious. Look, my lover knows how to please a woman. Isn't he
something?

Yes. He really is -- skillful, generous and loving, and mine. No
matter what he was doing right now or with whom, he was still
mine, maybe more mine than ever, and I found him more beautiful
than I could ever have dreamed I would.

I'm not sure I've ever seen anything more beautiful than my
Scully in the throes of passion, either. Her face was flushed
pink, her lips were slack and swollen from kissing and there was
a faint sheen of perspiration all over her that made her pale
skin glow like the light of an angel's wing ... I cupped her soft
little breasts in my hands and she turned her face toward me for
a kiss, and I kissed her, hungrily, greedily, in a way I'd never
thought I would.

Her lips were still locked onto mine when she came, and her cries
faded away into my mouth, muffled by my flesh, and I swallowed
them as eagerly as I'd ever swallowed Daniel's climax.

~~~~~

As Scully Saw It

~~~~~

Never in my entire life have I been simultaneously so terrified,
exhilarated, tense, aroused ... or felt so loved and cared for.

I don't know what prompted me to kiss Daniel that way, or what
broke down the barriers of my reserve sufficiently to let me say,
to myself and to him, what was on my heart. Maybe it was the
shock of finally seeing with my own eyes what I'd secretly
fantasized about for years now. Even now, the memory of that
moment, of walking into that cabin and seeing Mulder and Daniel
making love, can send me into a fever of excitement. It was
beautiful, the way they touched each other, the way their love
shone from their eyes, their obvious desire for each other, their
delight in each other ...

For just a moment, I stood frozen, watching them, feeling the
flash of heat between my own legs and the sharp pain in my heart;
only for a moment, and then I realized that I was staring, that I
had no business being there, that I must leave.

So I turned, and I ran, but I got no further than the side of
their cabin before I broke down and cried.

I cried because I had my life back, I had Mulder back, but
without Daniel, I had nothing ... I had only the outer shell of
Mulder, the least important part of him. His heart was with
Daniel, and that had been all right for so many years, because
Daniel's heart was with me, and Mulder's heart was with me, and I
was loved and cared for and not lonely.

Now, Jill had what I wanted from Daniel and Daniel had what I
wanted from Mulder, and there was no one for me -- not there, not
with me. There was Jim, but Jim was far away, and Jim's love
terrified me even as I longed for it and reached out for it.

And so I wept.

And then Daniel appeared, like a ministering angel of love, and
in his arms, I forgot all the reasons I had to keep the secrets
of my heart so locked away, so enclosed ... I forgot that he
wasn't straight, I forgot that he wasn't mine, I forgot that his
lover was waiting for him, and I kissed him over his loving,
beating heart and I told him the truth, a truth I had scarcely
admitted even to myself.

I gave in again to the weakness that overtook me when I wrote to
Daniel at sea, and I let him know how I loved him, and how I
missed him ... him, and all the love he brings with him.

And beyond miracles, beyond all hope, he understood.

I had hoped that he would. I had never dared to hope that he
would reach out to me and love me and care for me in the way that
he did.

Yes, I was afraid at first. What was about to happen violated the
code of sexual ethics with which I was raised, violated all
sexual norms that I understood and, more important, violated the
privacy and sanctity of their bed.

I was afraid, and I longed for it ... I was silent, and I cried
out for it ... I was motionless, and I moved toward it.

I can no longer distinguish in my mind the exact events of that
night. It comes back to me in moments, like the gentle,
candlelight scenes of a Christmas tableau ... the feeling of
Daniel's hands on me, of his strong arms around me... the touch
of Mulder's hands and lips on my breast, hesitant and awkward and
so deeply longed for, so wanted, that unskilled as he was, he
sent me to a height of desire I never thought myself capable of.

I remember Daniel gently arousing his lover ... I remember the
feeling of his strong body curved around mine, protecting and
soothing me, arousing me, loving me ... I remember his hand on
mine, guiding me, showing me how to touch Mulder, how to please
him ...

But most of all, I remember the heartbreaking pleasure of seeing
Mulder respond to my touch ... I remember the light in his eyes,
the tension in his muscles, the sounds he made, the beauty of the
moment when Daniel and I together brought him to climax ... I
remember how he looked with his head thrown back, his hair damp
and his skin shining, the joy of that moment, that knowledge,
that beauty... and of knowing that it was Daniel's loving gift to
me.

It was more than I could take in, and I broke down crying again,
but this time for joy, and for the humbling realization of just
how much these men love me ... both of them.

But there was more, much more ... lying in Mulder's arms, safe
and happy, while Daniel loved me with his mouth, and Daniel,
unlike Mulder, knew exactly what he was doing, oh, yes, he did
.. each tug and pull of his lips, each caress of his tongue on
my tender flesh sent me soaring higher and higher, the sensations
magnified by Mulder's loving touch, his strength upholding me,
his quiet pleasure in watching what Daniel and I were doing
together.

It was beyond anything I could ever have thought life might hold
for me, to be surrounded by them and loved by them and enjoyed by
them so intimately, so lovingly.

And when I came, soaring higher than I thought my body could
endure, when I came back to earth and felt Mulder's arms around
me, saw Daniel's head lying in my lap, Mulder gently stroking his
hair ... God, that would have been enough for one lifetime, for
so many lifetimes.

But Mulder wanted more. He wanted the circle to be complete. 

"Daniel," he whispered gently, as he cradled me in his arms.
"Daniel ..."

Daniel looked up at him. "Do we ...?"

"Yeah," Mulder said. "I always do ... you know, in case anyone
else forgot."

And Daniel nodded his understanding.

I had never really witnessed it before, their silent
communication. I had always thought it was something Mulder had
only with me.

I should have known better, perhaps, but how could I, when it
seemed clear that they communicated this way only in bed?

However it was said, however they communicated it, Daniel
understood. He rose up and came into my arms and laid his head on
my breast, and I touched and stroked his thick, dark hair,
murmuring words of love to him and to Mulder, just reveling in
the peace and warmth of this moment ... 

And then Daniel put his arms around me, and turned me gently onto
my side, so that he was facing me and Mulder was spooned up
behind me.

"Dana," he whispered, running his gentle fingers through my hair,
"if you're happy, if this is enough for you, we can end it now
and go to sleep. Do you want that, sweetheart?"

Did I want it? I wasn't sure what he meant, really ... or perhaps
I was just a bit dazed still. 

I didn't understand what Daniel was asking me, in fact, until he
shifted just a little bit and I felt, as if for the first time,
the heavy, insistent pressure of his erection against me. 

In case anyone else forgot ... a condom.

Daniel was going to make love to me ... if I wanted him to.

I did. Oh, God, how I did.

"No," I whispered. "I don't want to go to sleep yet, Daniel. I
want ..." I stopped and licked my lips. My throat felt dry. But
Mulder was behind me, pressing gentle, loving kisses on my neck,
stroking me with his hands, and Daniel was in front of me,
holding me tenderly, and somehow, the words came to me, and I
said what I wanted, what -- if I were to be honest -- I wanted
now for years.

"Daniel," I whispered again, "I want you to make love to me."

And it was that easy, that simple. Daniel kissed me again, and I
felt one of Mulder's arms leave me, reaching behind him for
something ... I heard the sound of the wrapper being torn, felt
Mulder reaching between us, stroking Daniel lovingly before
rolling the condom down over him, and then I lifted one leg and
wrapped it around Daniel, and he pushed up against me and then he
was in me ... my Daniel, my sweet, beloved Daniel, was inside me,
holding me, loving me, making me feel so full and so alive and so
loved, and Mulder was behind me, holding me, touching me, keeping
me safe ...

Nothing, nothing, nothing could ever be like that, to be loved at
once, as one, by these two men, one of whom was my heart, the
other my soul ... I was warmed by them and loved by them all
around me, and there was no place for the dark and the cold,
there was no loneliness, no fear, no trouble or sorrow, only the
dear, beloved faces and bodies and hands as, together, they loved
me and loved each other through me.

"Come on, baby, come for me," Mulder whispered in my ear, and I
wasn't sure whether he meant me or Daniel, but it didn't matter,
because we both did ... Daniel thrust up into me so hard, with a
groan of pleasure, and I felt the pulsing of his climax inside
me, and I followed him, more quietly this time but with a
pleasure and a peace I had never known ...

I don't know what happened after that. I felt Mulder's kiss, and
Daniel's, and I felt them moving around, shifting to make a place
for me, but none of that is clear.

My last clear memory is falling asleep with my head on Mulder's
shoulder, feeling Daniel's arms around me, and hearing them
whisper their love to each other in words that have faded away
from my mind like a spring breeze fades into the distance ...

I knew only that I was safe, and loved, and warm, and I struggled
no longer.

I curled up against my beloved friends and I slept.

~~~~~

NOTE: Since I am not a theologian, I have adapted Father Frank's
remarks to Daniel from "Sexual Ethics: Experience, Growth, and
Challenge; A Pastoral Reflection for Lesbian and Gay Catholics"
by DignityUSA.

~~~~~



END "The Eighth Side of the Triangle"(24/?) by Susan Jameson
(DrBarnBarn@aol.com)