Date: Thu, 18 Sep 1997 22:12:08 +0100 From: Caroline Subject: Damaged Goods Damaged Goods by Caroline O'Callaghan Rating: NC-17 Category: Mulder/Scully romance Summary: In an effort to comfort his distressed partner Mulder reveals one of his deepest, darkest secrets. Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully do not belong to me. However, the likelihood of Mulder being portrayed with this kind of problem on the show is about 1,000,000 to 1 so I think this particular version of Mulder does belong to me. Spoilers: Momento Mori Riverhead Hotel Shamrock Texas June 26th, 1997 1.05 a.m. "I think that the man, or woman, who is committing these crimes is obviously acting out of some kind of frustration. They want to have a child, but are unable, and so they are taking out their anger at other people's children. Their denied desires are turning them against what they want most, what they crave." Mulder had been spouting his theory about their latest case while staring out of the motel window. He turned suddenly when he heard a strangled cry from behind him. Seeing Scully, his normally unflappable partner sitting on the bed with her head in her hands, shoulders shaking, unnerved him to say the least. "Scully...are you...okay?" She was sobbing now and he hated himself. He'd been ranting on insensitively about a serial killer who couldn't procreate without even thinking how it might upset her. After all, they'd only recently learned of her own inability to bear children. "I'm sorry...I didn't think." Scully made an effort to try and pull herself together, wiping her eyes on the sleeves of her jacket and choking back her sobs. "No, I'm sorry Mulder. I'm just tired." Wanting to make amends he crossed the room and sat next to her on the bed. "It must have been hard today, performing those autopsies on the kids." "Yeah. I'll be fine though. I just need a good nights sleep. Sorry for cracking up on you like that." "Its no problem Scully. You know, any time you need to talk about anything, I'm here. I know we don't usually discuss anything that personal, but if you need somebody to listen, I'm more than willing." He thought she'd just brush him off with another 'I'm fine', but instead she looked down at her tightly interlaced hands, and began to speak. "You know, not being able to have children. Its something I suspected about myself for a while. It wasn't a big shock when you told me. My body's been acting weird since I disappeared for those three months." For a moment, his stomach lurched when he feared she might be about to launch into a discussion of her menstrual cycle. He liked to consider himself a thoroughly modern male, but there were some things about the female of the species he just didn't want to know. Scully continued. "Although I love children, I tried to convince myself that it wasn't a problem; that I could not have them and still be happy; that I had other things in my life, which would make up for not being able to have a baby. I wanted to believe that it just wasn't my destiny in life to be a mother, and that I was willing to accept that, but I'm not sure that I am." Mulder watched as a single tear rolled down her face. He wanted to kiss it away. Instead he let her carry on talking, in order that she could purge her system of her unvoiced feelings. "But today Mulder. When we considering the possibility that this killer is acting out of frustration because they couldn't reproduce, I actually identified with them. I understood. I'm not saying that I'm going to go out and start committing these kind of heinous acts. But I know how much it hurts. You feel...incomplete...damaged." Mulder swallowed hard, feeling her pain. His mind searched frantically for a way to ease it. "Scully I don't really know what to say, except that I kind of understand what you're going through. The possibility of me reproducing is practically zero as well." "What?" She wasn't really listening to him. She was still lost in her own thoughts. Deep in her own desperation. "I'm impotent." He suddenly had her attention. Her head shot up and her tear-filled eyes bored into his. She opened her mouth to speak and then shut it again. "I have been since my early twenties, and I can't see it abating any time soon." "Mulder, you're not kidding me about this are you?" "No." He stood up self-consciously. "I can't believe I told you. I've never told anybody just outright like that." She was still looking at him in disbelief. "I'm glad you trust me enough to confide in me Mulder." He shrugged, pretty sure that he was blushing. He felt like he was twenty-two again, and suffering all the agonies of his problem the first time round. "I thought it might make you feel better if you knew you weren't the only one who feels a little...incomplete, and inadequate." She nodded. "Yes, strangely enough Mulder. It does. I'm just a little shocked, I've always thought of you as being something of a stud." He grinned at the irony. "Oh yeah. What gave you that impression?" "I don't know. I just... you're always throwing innuendo at me, and you can't keep your eyes off any pretty women we run into." He shrugged. "Wishful thinking Scully." "So, you can't...." He cut her off. "I'd rather not go into details." "Sorry." She lowered her head. He suddenly regretted stopping the question. He'd never actually talked to anybody about it before, and having it out in the open like this, was proving something of a relief. "Its performance anxiety. I self-diagnosed." She looked up at him again as he continued. "I'm fine, except when I bring a real woman into the equation." "Why do you think it started?" "I had some bad experiences." He had an image in his mind of Pheobe laughing at him and telling he was hopeless compared to her other lovers. He shook his head to make it go away. "I'm sorry Mulder. It must be an awful thing for a man to go through." He ran a hand through his hair. "Well, I live in hope of a cure." "Maybe you just need the right woman. Somebody who's patient, and understands. Who doesn't think any less of you, just because you were once treated badly." She was looking up at him with a deep, intense expression on her face. Her eyes were shinning. He licked his lips and noticed that she did the same. He tried not to think about how beautiful she was. "Yeah." His voice sounded a little strangled, too high. He coughed and deepened it. "Well, if you think of anybody who's all those things, remember, my door is always open. But, you know, I think it might be a tough problem to solve." "Well that would be okay. She wouldn't expect instant success. She'd be willing to think of it as an on-going project....whoever she is." He was in danger of dropping to his knees and begging her to run her cool little doctor hands over him in the hope that she might succeed where others had failed. If anybody could make him feel whole again, it would be Scully. The air in the room was hot, and he decided to make a run for the connecting door, before it became hotter. "We can talk about the case in the morning. Goodnight Scully." "Goodnight Mulder." Scully watched him go, scrambling out of the door. When it clicked shut she leaned back against the pillows on the bed. It took her ten seconds to make up her mind. She rose and knocked lightly on the wood that separated them. Mulder's voice was full of both fear and excitement. "Its open." End of part 1 ****** Damaged Goods 2/4 by Caroline O'Callaghan Disclaimer in part 1 *** Riverhead Hotel Shamrock Texas June 26th, 1997 1.35 a.m. She turned the knob and opened the door. He had begun unbuttoning his shirt, but he stopped when their eyes met. Losing her courage a little she leaned against the door-frame. It was possible that she could simply ask him some inane question about the case, and then step back out into her own room. She didn't have to take this step. This leap. "Scully?" "Mulder. I..." "Yes?" However, she had already made her decision. And, after all, Mulder had reached out to her; confided and confessed to her when he hadn't needed to. It was her turn to go out on a limb. "Do you want me Mulder?" For a moment he just gazed at her. Her hands shook so badly that she had to grip the door frame to steady them. "Yes, but..." "No, no buts. Yes or no." "Yes. I'm a little scared though." "So am I Mulder, so very scared. Come here." She watched him walk towards her. His shirt half undone, his face dark and brooding, his hair falling in his eyes. She took a deep breath and willed her pulse to slow. He stopped when they were a mere inch apart, and lowered his face down to look into her eyes. "I have to know something." "What?" "I can't do this Scully, if you're here simply because you feel sorry for me." "I have too much self-pity at the moment to spare any for you. I'm here because...I want to be here with you." "Even though you know that I may never be able to make love to you properly?" She nodded her head quickly, suddenly very aroused at the images the phrase 'making love' conjured up. "It doesn't matter. If we can, we will, and if we can't, we'll work around it." He noticed the way she had used 'we' and made it their problem, instead of his problem. It was so typical Scully; taking the burden onto her shoulders, as if she didn't have enough to cope with already. "Mulder. Are you just going to lean over me all night? Or do you plan on kissing me?" "Anytime now." His eyes grew dark and he leaned towards her. Scully waited for the contact and wondered briefly if she was in the middle of an extremely bizzare dream. God knows she'd had enough dreams about Mulder in the past. His lips touched hers. Pressing gently, but firmly, sliding carefully. 'I don't want to wake up' she thought. 'Please God, don't let me wake up to the sound of an alarm clock buzzing and an empty space beside me in the bed'. When her mouth opened and his tongue slipped inside, she knew it was real. Once he'd tasted her thoroughly he pulled away to look down at her. His hand came up to stroke her cheek. "Okay." She breathed out heavily. "Okay." They were acknowledging the final crossing of a line that had been drawn between them since the beginning. It was an admittance of feelings, of attraction, of need and desire. "Why don't you get ready for bed Mulder? I'll be right back." She saw the panicked look on his face and reached up to brush her lips against his cheek. "Don't worry, I'd just like to sleep with you. Just sleep. Is that okay? He nodded. "I'd like that." She walked back into her room and shut the door. Still trembling, she gathered up her pyjamas and headed for the bathroom. While she brushed her teeth, she gazed at herself in the mirror. 'What are you doing Dana? He's your partner. You shouldn't be wanting to help cure his sexual hang-ups.' She told the voices in her head to go away. Mulder needed her, and she needed him. She had cancer. She wasn't going to waste any more time. When she went back to his room. Mulder was lying on the bed, wearing only his cotton, jersey boxers. Hands behind his head. The long, lean body made such an attractive sight that she just stood and stared for a long moment, trying not to let her gaze dwell on the boxers and wonder what lay beneath them. Mulder turned to look at her. "Not sleepy yet Mulder?" He shook his head. "Turn over." He did as she instructed and she climbed onto bed, and then onto him, straddling him with a knee either side of his thighs. She heard him gasp a little when she settled her backside onto the tops of his thighs. "Scully." She leaned down and planted a kiss between his shoulder blades, admiring his back. "Relax Mulder. I'm not expecting anything here. I just want you to lay there and relax, okay." He nodded his head, but she could still see, and feel, that his body was tense and trembling. She opened the small bottle that she had brought from her bathroom. He jerked a little when she poured a sparing amount of liquid onto his skin. She laid her hands on him and spread the oil over the tight muscles on his back and shoulders. He gave a little moan of appreciation. "Is that nice?" "Very nice." "Good." "It smells like you Scully." She smiled, because he wasn't able to see it. "No, I think I smell like it. I use it when I take a bath." While she massaged his back she allowed herself to revel in the knowledge that he knew how she smelt, that he was able to distinguish it, and that he wanted her. How long had he wanted her? Since the beginning?" She scooted down on the bed, and used a little more oil on his calves, kneading the muscles until they were supple beneath her hands. Then her hands slid upwards onto his thighs, enjoying the feel of his skin, she alternatively stroked gently, and then firmly. "Scully, where on earth did you learn to do this?" She remembered high-school. Watching Marcus throw a football thirty yards, before getting sacked from behind, and her, laying him down on her bed, the house silent for once, the rest of her family at the movies, as he told her which muscles were sore and how she should rub them to make him feel better. She had a feeling she would have learnt a lot more that day, other than just 'how to give a massage', if she hadn't heard her Father's distinctive heavy step in the hallway, home early because the car had broken down. She recalled with amusement, Marcus's mad scramble for his clothes, and his jump from her window ledge. That had been one hell of a close call. Mulder's voice brought her back to the present. "Scully. Where?" She considered telling him the truth, and then decided it probably wasn't a good idea to tell a man with a sexual anxiety about a past lover. "Med school." "They teach massage in med school?" "Yes. Its right between micro brain surgery and the cure for the common cold." He chuckled, but the sound was cut off abruptly when her thumbs began to brush the inside of his thighs. She heard him take a deep, shaky breath. She kissed his lower back, but resisted the urge to run her tongue up his spine, it would be too much, too soon. She manoeuvred herself off him and sat Indian style next to him on the bed. He hoisted himself up on his elbows and looked around at her. "Turn over Mulder. I haven't finished." He did as she instructed and she realised that he was putty in her hands tonight. She could tell him to run out into the road and jump in front of an oncoming car and he'd probably consider it. When she re-straddled him she sat down on his strong, flat stomach, careful not make any contact with the soft bulge visible through his boxers; not wanting him to be embarrassed or uncomfortable. As she began to knead his shoulders and chest, their eyes met. She saw desire in him and her heart ached, wondering what it must be like to want someone and have your body betray you. His hands rose from his sides and came to rest tentatively on her thighs. "Its okay Mulder. You can touch me." Permission granted, his hands began to slide up and down the silk of her pyjama bottoms. Grasping and releasing her flesh in much the same way as her hands were operating on his chest. Scully bent her head and touched her lips to his. Quickly, lightly, nothing too erotic, before scooting down the bed to work on the front of his legs. She missed the presence of his hands on her thighs, but didn't trust the heat in her belly brought on by his touch. It had been moving downwards to her groin and she'd needed to stop it before her arousal took control of her actions. Mulder sighed and flung a hand onto his stomach. As she continued to rub his muscles, she eyed his hand carefully wondering if it was about to stray any lower. His eyes were shut and his breathing was deep and even. He seemed to have finally relaxed in her presence. She silently congratulated herself. 'Good job Doctor Scully'. She felt even more pleased with herself when she saw that his boxers were slightly tented at the front. It wasn't an erection, but there was some hardness there; evidence of arousal. She suddenly wanted to touch it, but knew it would be the wrong move. She sat at the end of the bed and brought his feet into her lap where she began to stroke them lightly. After a few minutes she heard a soft snore, and smiled. "Very relaxed now aren't we partner?" She lowered his feet to be the bed and got up. She used the bathroom to wash her hands of the oil before coming back to the bed and throwing the comforter over him. As she crawled in beside him, he gave a satisfied little moan and pulled her against him. She took in his sleeping profile before planting a kiss on his chin and settling down beside his chest to sleep. She fidgeted a little at first, aware that Mulder wasn't the only one in a state that was half relaxed and half excited. Her thighs tingled in a way they hadn't for ages. She couldn't remember the last time she had wanted to feel someone inside her this badly. Yet it wasn't just his body she craved. She wasn't in love with his physicality. What enamoured her was his heart, his mind, his soul; she wanted the man who had been brave enough to tell her an embarrassing truth. Sleep claimed her eventually, just as she was realising that, ever since she had come to his room, she hadn't thought once about the horrific autopsies she'd had to perform that day. This was good. They'd be good together. They'd take refuge in one another and heal their respective wounds. End of part 2 ******** Damaged Goods 3/4 by Caroline O'Callaghan disclaimer in part 1 *** . Dana Scully's apartment Washington D.C. July 25th, 1997 8.45 p.m. Hearing a key in her front door, Scully sat up a little straighter in the tub. "Mulder?" "Well I certainly hope you're not expecting anybody else." "I'm in the bath." "Oooh, really?" He walked into the bathroom and leaned against her bathroom cabinet. Looking down at the bubbles that covered her body with a lazy smile. He looked tired, weary, and a light stubble covered his chin. "Have you been at the office, going over the case file, all this time?" "It's going round and round in my head, and I can't get it to stay still." "Well, maybe I'll be able to take your mind off it?" "That a promise?" "You can have it in writing if you want." He smiled, kneeled down next to the tub and kissed her forehead. She moved her face up and caught his lips with hers, marvelling at how good he was to taste and the electricity that passed between them when they touched. He deepened the caress, sliding his tongue between her parted lips and catching her chin with his hand to keep her face turned up to his. She sighed at the pleasure, but wanted more. Covering his hand with hers, she slid it slowly downwards, along her neck, over her collarbone, into the water and onto her right breast. She felt a tremble go through him, but he continued to kiss her. Her hand encouraged his to squeeze her, to stroke the flesh that he held, and he did so; lightly, nervously, fumbling like a teenager. Scully found his touch infinitely more arousing than she ever had an experienced man's. Perhaps because she knew his hesitancy, this fear of her, was based on his desire for her. Growing more bold, his thumb began to rub back and forth across her nipple. "Oh, Mulder." Suddenly he withdrew his mouth and hand from her and got to his feet. He grabbed a towel and dried his now wet hand as he spoke. "I'll open a bottle of wine. Knicks game on." She nodded, trying not to show her disappointment, and stood up in the bathtub. She watched him as he gasped in air, gulped a little, swallowed hard and let his eyes travel down her naked, dripping body. "Hand me that towel Mulder." He gave it to her without taking his eyes from her torso. His gaze darted back and forth between her breasts and the dark red hairs between her legs. He ran a hand through his hair.. Scully gave him what she hoped was a seductive smile. "Still want me Mulder?" "Yes...so much." She wrapped the towel around her as she got out of the tub and pressed her lips quickly to his. "Good. Open the wine. I'll be there in a few minutes." She watched him as he walked from the room. Mulder; her troubled, tortured, pain-filled man who had been denied the pleasures of a woman for so long. Not for much longer, she hoped. They had been together almost a month. A sweet, happy month; and had built a relationship out of work hours, that hovered between friendship and lovers. They kissed, they touched, but nothing more. She hadn't wanted to rush him into attempting to make love. She had encouraged physical contact, in order that he could become accustomed to her body, while making it clear to him that she didn't expect the end result of their caresses to be sex. Now, however, seemed like the time to take things further, before both of them became too nervous of failing one another. She felt almost as scared as she knew he was. There was the possibility that she could rush things and have it go terribly wrong; acerbating his problem further. She towelled herself off and wandered into the bedroom. She spent a while considering the only silk night-gown she owned before deciding on a pair of flannel pyjamas, judging that she might blow Mulder's fuse altogether if she went for sexy and slinky. He'd looked like he'd been about to faint when she'd given him a full frontal view in the bathroom. She smiled as she pulled her night-wear on, listening to the sounds of the ball game in the other room. She was still a little surprised at how easily they'd slipped into a more intimate relationship. It didn't effect their work and they didn't seem to grow tired of seeing each other after the work was done; as she feared they might. They were both emotionally-introverted, strong individuals, who needed time and space on their own every now and again, but they appreciated one another, enjoyed each other's companionship and helped each other over the bad times. It wasn't as difficult being with Fox Mulder as she had always thought it would be. She took her hair out of the grip she had used to tie it back for her bath and went into the living room to join him on the couch. He leaned forward and gave her the glass of wine he had poured for her. She thanked him with a small smile that was really just a quirk of her lips and snuggled up against him. "How we doing?" He gave a disgusted snort. "That bad huh?" She sipped her wine and leaned her head against his shoulder, unusually uninterested in the game, and more concerned with how nice it was to be next to his warmth. She opened her eyes abruptly when she felt his hand come to rest on her thigh. She was a little surprised. She was normally the one to initiate physical contact. She looked at him, and he must have felt her gaze, because he looked down at her upturned face. "I like you like this Scully." "Hmm?" "With your flannels and no make-up, and your hair everywhere, you look so relaxed." "You mean you don't like the way I look normally?" "No. But what I normally see is Special Agent Scully." He caressed her thigh through the material. "Or Doctor Scully. This is more, just, you know Dana Scully." She smiled at him. "I guess we get to see different sides of each other lately." He nodded and his attention went back to the game. She yawned and twisted on the couch so she could lay down. Putting her head on the armrest and throwing her feet up into his lap. She froze when the ball of her foot made contact with something hard. She studied his face in profile and saw his face twitch, and knew he was trying not to smile. "Hiding your spare gun somewhere else these days Mulder?" He looked at her quickly before going back to the television screen. "When you...in the bathroom." "Oh." She considered carefully what to do next. Jumping his bones was definitely out of the question, however much she wanted to. A little voice in her head told her to take it easy. She twisted again on the couch, putting her feet back on the floor and sitting by his side. She could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and knew he was feeling tense, no matter how calm he tried to keep his expression. In what she hoped was a casual manner, she slipped her hand under the t-shirt he wore and stroked the skin over his stomach. He breathed in and didn't seem to exhale. She glanced at the t.v. "Johnson's getting worse." Mulder finally exhaled. "Going to be dropped next season." "Is that so?" "Hmm. Yeah." She took the plunge and her hand slipped downwards. Carefully undoing the belt, button and fly on his pants. His face remained impassive, while he pretended to watch his team, but she knew he was waiting for her touch, wanting it and afraid of it at the same time. She pushed her hand inside the jersey material of his boxers and grasped him gently, but firmly. She felt the shudder that rippled through him. His voice was a warning. "Scully..." "Shhh Mulder. I'm trying to watch the game." She stroked him slowly, and he gasped quietly. Pushing himself up into her hand. "Scully stop. Please." "You don't like it?" She quickened her strokes just a fraction. "Of course I do, but...I. Oh Jesus." "Thought you were a non-believer Mulder?" He chuckled; a half laughing, half choking sound. "I'm going to make an idiot of myself in your hand." She gripped him more tightly and sped up. His hips began to thrust, despite his protests. "Mulder. I would never think you're an idiot. I'd just be pleased that I'd satisfied you." His breathing was as erratic as the movements he was making below. Without removing her hand, Scully swung around so that she had a knee either side of his lap. She leaned down and kissed him as she watched his internal struggle. She was sure that while one part of him wanted to stop her and was truly terrified of where this was leading; the more baser side of him wanted to reach a completion. She whispered into his ear. "Do you know how wonderful it is to know that you got hard when you saw me naked?" He groaned. "I don't think I could make love to you Scully. ...I can't control...I can't...I'm so fucked up" She put a hand over his mouth. "Sshh. I don't expect anything, forget about me. The only thing that I want is for you to come for me Mulder." His body seemed to win the struggle over his mind as he began to pump up furiously into her hand. She encouraged him by stroking even harder, faster. His eyes closed and his head went back. He moaned in frustration and sweat gathered on his brow. He worked until he was exhausted with the effort and Scully began to notice an ache in her wrist. He panted. "I can't." "Let it go Mulder." He shook his head. Desperate to explode, but stuck on the edge of pleasure. Scully recognised his dilemma and made a quick decision. She slipped backwards off the couch, let go of him and tugged his pants and boxers down to his ankles, removed his shoes, and pulled his clothing the rest of the way off. She looked up at him and noticed that he had taken himself into his hand and continued his desperate, erratic, searching thrusting. The sight suddenly seemed wonderful erotic to her and she felt the heat that was already in her belly intensify. Nevertheless, she had decided to help him and so put her own needs aside. She looked up into his face and wondered why she wanted to perform this act for him. Because he was crazy, confused, confusing, helpless, reckless, and altogether brilliant. Like he had said he was so... 'fucked-up' ...and that was why she loved him. She pulled his hand away roughly and descended on him. Licking him from base to tip, before closing her mouth around him. He almost screamed. "Scccculllleeeeee." End of Part 3 ******* Damaged Goods 4/4 by Caroline O'Callaghan disclaimer in part 1 *** Dana Scully's apartment Washington D.C. July 25th, 1997 9.20 p.m Mulder was sure he was fantasising. He'd had this dream before. Him sitting naked from the waist down, while Scully knelt between his legs and caressed him with her mouth. Of course, in his fantasy they were always in his office in the basement, and instead he was sitting on her couch, but it still didn't feel real. He gasped and writhed and tried not to thrust too hard, not wanting to choke her, but he was sure that any moment he'd come too on his own couch and hear a porn video playing in the background, and Scully would be missing. Her hand joined in with her mouth. Playing with the base of him while she licked and sucked the top of him.. He Looked down and saw her red hair splayed out on his thighs and began to lose all coherent thought. Too much, it was all too much. His body began to tense and he recognised the onslaught of release. He heard his voice in the room, but didn't realise he'd been speaking. "Oh yes. Yes. Please. Scully. Yes. Please." He felt her take him deeper into her mouth and his world exploded and imploded at the same time. His body spenting itself in a series of jerks. Her mouth left him briefly, unable to cope with the onslaught, but then came back to him again, helping him down from his high. When the room became visible again he looked down. She released him and leaned back to look up at his face. She coughed, and let out a little laugh, while wiping her mouth with her hand. On the t.v., the crowd cheered and she whipped her head around to glance briefly at it. "Home run Mulder". "I'll say." He reached down and put a hand under each of her arms and pulled her up towards him, sitting her beside him on the couch. "How are you feeling?" "I'll let you know when I get my brain back. You're very good at that Scully." "Well, not bad for a first try." He gazed at her in amazement and she grinned at him. "You never..." She kissed his temple and breathed into his ear. "No, only for you Mulder. I'd do that only for you. Just for you." He was filled with an emotion so intense that he could feel tears stinging the backs of his eyes. He took her face between his hands and their eyes met in a fierce gaze. "I love you." She opened her mouth and shut it again. There was silence for a long moment before she replied. "I love you too", her voice shaking with feeling. He made love to her that night, and entered her without fear. She had clenched around him and found release in his arms. Afterwards they laid for a long time on their sides in bed, legs entwined under the covers. Mulder stroked her face. "Doctor, I think I'm cured." Scully smiled. "I think so, but you may need another check-up just to make sure." He kissed her. "I think I'm going to need a lot of check-ups." She kissed him back. "Lots and lots of check-ups." The end **** Comments to: caroline.o@virgin.net