Beds Are Burning by Shannon Kizzia (lmelao@earthlink.net) Rating: NC-17 for naughtiness Spoilers: Little ones for Quagmire, Bad Blood, Post-Modern Prometheus, Triangle, and Rain King Keywords: MSR Category: SRHA Summary: The ever-erotic, if sometimes clumsy, dance from UST to RST. Some allergies, some games, some alcohol, some smut.... Disclaimer: These characters are so not mine. I'm just borrowing them for a little while. I make no money on this. Dammit. "Hard to Handle" belongs to...well, who knows. The Grateful Dead did it before The Black Crowes, but who knows who did it before them. Thanks to whoever that is. "Wicked Game" belongs to Chris Isaak and I used it without permission. "Beds Are Burning" is a song by Midnight Oil and I used it, (and let Mulder abuse it), without permission as well. Author's Notes and Acknowledgments at the end. Beds Are Burning by Shannon Kizzia Part 1: Hard to Handle 6:05 PM Lake Eufaula Eastern Oklahoma "Seed?" "No, thanks, Mulder. Your turn." I work the salt off the seed with my tongue while gazing pensively out the windshield at the sun setting over the water. G, G, G. G should be easy. Why am I blanking? "You're stalling. Go," Scully prods. "Gonorrhea!" I yell victoriously. "Good one, Mulder. Great White." "Great White??? Dear God, is that what you were listening to in the 80s? I had you pegged as more of a Frankie Goes to Hollywood girl." "I was. Great White was Charlie. He had all the posters on his walls. Go." "Halen, Van." "Halen? That's not an 'H'! Mulder, no offense, but you suck at Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll." "Well, if you remember *I* suggested Truth or Dare, but you were the one who thought that would seriously compromise our stake out. This is your game, not mine, Scully. I have an excuse for sucking." "No you don't, Mulder. It doesn't matter if this is your first time. Everybody should be able to play this game with some success. Especially when there's no alcohol being consumed and only two people are playing! And with your eidetic memory, I'm really having trouble believing that you're *not* sucking on purpose. In fact, I *know* you're doing it on purpose; I just don't know why yet." She turns to look at me. Her features are carefully composed not to show too much humor, though I know she is enjoying herself. "So give it up, Mulder." I decide to ignore her accusation. The truth is, sitting in a car with Scully and having to think of words that have to do with sex is seriously compromising my grey matter. I'm a big lump of duh. "Heroin, Scully. Are you happy?" "Delirious. Head." "What?" "Head. That's my 'H'." At my blank look she continues, "As in 'going down', 'heading south', 'blow job', 'oral sex', 'giving head'." She props her booted foot up on the dash, her jeans tightening over her thigh. "Your turn." Sorry, Scully. Game over. I'm too busy visualizing your head bobbing up and down over my lap. I shift uncomfortably in my seat and clear my throat. A thought occurs to me. "What was that?" "What was what?" Her eyebrows knit together. "That streak of blue. Didn't you see it?" I try to look excited. For reasons other than sex. "No, Mulder. I did not see a streak of blue." "It was there, Scully. C'mon. Let's check it out." I'm out of the car before she can protest. I don't wait for her, because I know she will follow me down to the water's edge and into the trees. Scully's a trooper, I'll give her that. She's a better partner than I deserve. She cut her weekend short to stake out this lake with me in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the "return" of Big Blue. I call it a return. Scully calls it bullshit. I don't care what she calls it. She's with me now and she's caught up to me and we're whipping out the flashlights to go monster hunting in the forest. It doesn't get better than this really. I sigh happily and quirk a smile at her. She's not upset or pouting but I feel the need to reassure her anyway. "I'll buy you dinner later, 'kay?" "Mulder..." "No, I insist. It's the least I can do after I sucked at Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll on purpose." I know she can't see my wink in the darkness of the trees, but she can feel it. Just like I can feel her lips dissolve into a smile. It doesn't get better than this. **** 11:21 pm Days Inn Northwest Oklahoma City I close my door on the heat of outside -- yes, it's *still* hot -- and go to make sure the adjoining door to Scully's room is unlocked. I smell like a hundred old X-Files, like red dirt and unidentified slime and like sweat mixed with paranoia. This room smells like an army of pine trees ransacked it. It's Pine-Sol. I'm allergic to Pine-Sol. I can feel my nose hairs forming liberty spikes already. My eyes begin to water as I kick my shoes off and peel off my socks. I sneeze. Twice. Three times. On the fourth, Scully opens my door and pokes her head in. "Jesus, Mulder, what's up with you?" After my fifth sneeze, I look up at her. I feel like my features are all sliding off my face, like I'm not-quite-cooked-enough pizza dough. I must look that way, too, because she's got that unsure yet sympathetic eyebrow going on, like when she showed me that Ronnie Strickland's vampire teeth were fake. "Pide-Saw." "Huh?" "Pide-Saw, Scuwwy, Pide-Saw." "Maybe you should call me Dana, just for tonight," she smirks. "Dayduh," I try. "Nevermind." She comes around the door and into the room, standing in front of me, tilting her head way up to look into my face. Her expression is the same one she gives the aforementioned unidentifiable slime. Or a blurry photograph of Big Blue's tooth. Which is more than what we found tonight. What we actually found was a couple of teenagers screwing like wild in the woods by a campfire. I'll be sure to include it in my report to Skinner. "How allergic to Pine-Sol are you, Mulder?" She takes my arm and urges me to sit down on the edge of the bed. Her hands come up to my head like I knew they would, checking for fever, but more just petting me. Scully is good at babying me and I am good for being babied. "I duddoh. Bad? I'd say this is pretty bad, wouldn't you?" "Well, they sure as hell doused your room good with it. I don't think they even looked in my room, much less cleaned it. Why don't you spend the night in my room? I'll give you some anti-histamines and we'll see if that clears you up, okay Mulder?" "Yeb." I try to look calm but inside I'm freaking out. My heart's gunning like a race car. The monkeys are chattering in my brain. Scully's room. Spending the night. Scully's bed? Fuck me. I follow her back into her room and plop down on the foot of her bed as she rummages through her little in-the-field doctor bag. She's facing slightly away from me and her cute little ass is up in the air as she searches. I've always been a weak man when it comes to my partner's ass. And no allergic reaction is going to prevent me from eyeing her butt. I just want to grab those cheeks and squeeze repeatedly even if I do end up sneezing all over her back. My fingers clench as I sit here and I lick my lips. Then I sneeze four more times. Scully plunks two pills into my hand and goes to get me a glass of water. She's so serious about my little ailment. I love how she takes care of me. Even with little things like the sniffles, she's all over me. I secretly savor those times when she goes all doctor on my ass, stroking my hair, soothing the lines of my face, taking my pulse, holding my hand. I wish she'd take things a little further sometimes, in the name of good medicine. I am a perv after all. My video collection says it all. I want Doctor Scully's bedside manner, if you know what I mean. Suddenly she's in front of me. "Take those and drink this. How hot do you like your showers?" I think that thud was my jaw hitting the floor. I try to cover quickly with some innuendo. "You trying to get me daked, Scuwwy?" She blushes a shade of red I've never even seen before. It was just a joke. Scully has never responded with anything more than a disapproving eye roll at my teasing. Why is she blushing crimson now? "Mulder, take your damned pills and go get cleaned up." She's being a little too short now. I guess I'll be punished for my comment by her now not running my shower for me. I guess her soaping up my dick with her hand is out now, too. Now there's a fantasy that has about a million to one chance of ever coming true. I have no real illusions about my partner's feelings for me. I know she loves me. I know we're best friends. And I know I'll never get to bury my dick between her legs. I throw back my pills, taking a large swallow of lukewarm tap water. I then sigh melodramatically, which gets me a look from her, and shuffle into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. **** I listen to the water splashing as Mulder showers. I'm getting ready for bed, changing into my over-sized Padres t-shirt. I will *not* picture Mulder naked and wet. I will *not* picture Mulder naked and wet. I will *not* picture Mulder naked and soapy and wet. Shit. He's going to be sleeping in this bed. I just can't believe I told him he could. I told myself there would be no more of that. I have let Mulder come into my bed when he has had nightmares and that one time a cow crashed through his ceiling while we were out on a case, and nothing has ever happened, but I've never gotten any sleep knowing he's there a foot away. I'm always too busy staying on my side. And I don't know what it is about him tonight, but I'm having serious trouble not jumping him. I should never have touched him to begin with. He just looked so pathetic and gross. I had to make contact. I just had to go and play doctor. I can't believe how I abuse my expertise just to touch him. They should revoke my license. I think it started in the car, with that game. It had seemed harmless. But hearing Mulder say "cunt" when it came around to "C" and hearing myself say "cock" in reply was more of a turn on than it probably should have been. Why couldn't he have just gone with the easy rock and roll answer and said Chicago?! And why oh why did I not only have to *say* cock, but then look right at his?! It was like my eyes were no longer under my control. At least he didn't see me eyeing his crotch; he was way too busy eyeing mine. My brain had screamed, "Danger! Danger!" and yet we still played all the way up to "H". It was a relief when Mulder decided to fake seeing a "streak of blue". In another circumstance, I would have argued more -- "That's called sky, Mulder," came to mind -- or I would have tried to persuade him not to go gallivanting into the trees, but it was a welcome reprieve from having to sit there spouting random sex words and getting horny. He didn't have to, but the man did, in fact, buy me dinner. At Home Town Buffet. I was way too hungry to care that he hadn't taken me to a nicer place. I ate my pasta, buffalo wings, corn bread, and blueberry cobbler with zeal. Mulder concentrated on his plate of miscellaneous foods and we ate in companionable silence. All I wanted to do upon returning to the hotel tonight was soak in a cool bath and masturbate myself to sleep. I hear the water turn off and Mulder toweling himself. Ain't gonna happen. I crawl beneath the sheet with my copy of _Middlemarch_ and try to ignore my frustrated body, and the fact that Mulder has just emerged from the steamy bathroom in nothing but olive green boxer shorts. I stare down into my novel hard. I cannot look at him right now. His body is too beautiful and there is too much skin. Too much skin to taste. "Uh...maybe...uh, maybe it's cleared out over there, now." I speak without looking up. "You're welcome to go check it out, Mulder." I sound so pouty and disappointed. I disgust myself. He shuffles into his room and he's not there 10 seconds before he's sneezing uncontrollably again. He comes to stand in the doorway, looking defeated. Yes, I'm looking. I'm looking and I'm looking. My eyes take in his muscular chest and shoulders, his washboard stomach, his strong legs. I try to keep my expression vague, disinterested, but I can't disguise my breathing or the warmth building just under my skin all over my body. I scoot over to the far right of the bed and pull the covers back on what will be his side. "It's okay, Mulder. I don't mind. Really. Just come to bed." My eyes widen at the same time his do and we look away from each other. He mumbles something about brushing his teeth and then disappears back into the bathroom. It gives me the necessary time to get over my embarrassment. Plus, I enjoy all the little domestic sounds of water splashing, teeth being cleaned, mouth wash being gargled. I like sharing my space with Mulder. He fills it well. I sigh and read the same sentence for a fifth time. Mulder reappears and fidgets his way over to the bed. He sits on it like it might be rigged with an explosive device. He arranges his pillow so he can slouch against the headboard. The covers come to his waist and his hands rest against his stomach for all of 2 seconds before he asks, "Scully, would you mind if I turned the TV on?" "Not at all Mulder." "It won't bother your reading?" "No." He picks up the remote from the nightstand and I peer out of the corner of my eye to see how the skin over his side stretches taut when he reaches. The places in between his ribs beg for my fingers. I grip my book until my knuckles turn white. He turns off his light, so that now mine is the only light in the room, that and the light of the TV as he now flicks it on. He begins to surf. <..."part of marriage. People get upset, they get angry...." *click* "He's talking about cases of some anonymous encounters..." *click* "They're dominant on the front, but you want to have a balance on the back..." *click*> <..."This is harder than it looks..." *click* "...no one to play with. You're both lucky." *click* "...technology is being over-worked..." *click*> "Actually, Mulder, I think I'm going to try to go to sleep. It was a long day." "Yeah, I'll turn it off. There's nothing good on." "You mean triple X good?" He laughs at my little joke. Scully made a funny. "Mulder, are you feeling any better?" I set my book down and roll over onto my side toward him. He scoots down in the bed until his head is resting on the pillow, putting him at my level. He turns his head to look at me. "Yeah, as a matter of fact. I think I might actually be able to say your name now...Scully." GodDAMN!!! I don't know if there are words to describe how he says my name, how it sounded just now. Sultry. That's the best I can do. It was just above a whisper, deep-timbered and dripping sex off the end. I want to roll over on top of him and start humping his leg. I take one, long breath. "Good.... Mulder, that's good." Damned breathy voice. I'm gonna get myself in trouble here. "What'd you give me, Scully? It's making me...heavy...and slow." He's absently scratching at his chest and stomach. Oh dear God. "It's just Benadryl. Don't tell me you're allergic to that, too." I shoot the double eyebrow, trying to stay light. "Noooope. It jus..." He closes his eyes. "It jus....puts me....t..." And with that Mulder is conked out. I can't help but smile at him as he immediately starts to snore softly. He is so precious. It's no wonder I.... I care about him so much. I reach out a tentative hand and brush that ubiquitous lock of hair off of his forehead. He doesn't wake but settles more deeply down under the covers and hums contentedly. I let my fingers brush down the side of his face before reluctantly rolling away from him and turning out my light. I lie in the darkness listening to his breathing and for once I relax with Mulder in the bed with me. I stop worrying about staying on my side. I shift onto my back and sigh, allowing my mind to drift where it will and allowing my muscles and bones to sink into the mattress. Soon sleep overtakes me and I dream. **** I wake up spooned with my partner. My hand is on her breast, inside her shirt, so I mean ON her breast, and my erection is pushed up in between her ass cheeks. The only things separating us are our underwear. The sensations hit me one at a time but rapid-fire. Breast! Ass! Scully! Fuck! Before I have even registered how we could have gotten here much less how to get out of this without waking her, she moans and wiggles her ass against my cock. "Mmmmmm...." she hums happily. I freeze. My whole body is still. Scully is sleeping. We must've just gravitated toward one another and made ourselves nice and comfy while unconscious. I can't believe I'm cupping her naked breast without waking her up! Suddenly she moves again, this time pressing her tit more fully into my hand, arching her back at the same time so that her little ass opens for me, shifting the head of my penis toward her anus though our clothes. "Mulller....Mmmmm.....fuckmedeeeep...." Her consonants are all slurred, but it is quite clear what she's dreaming and who she's dreaming about. I feel myself stiffen more against her. I'm trying so hard not to move, not to play with her nipple or thrust casually against her, and it's nearly impossible. It's actually physically painful. "Mulllllller..." she sighs again and then I feel her tense. Oh unmerciful God, she's awake. I feel her panic under my hands, but she, too, is totally still now. Okay, I have to do something. I decide to pretend to be asleep myself. I grunt slightly then let go of her and turn away mumbling the least sexy thing I can imagine. "Potatooooo...." I want to weep at the feel of rolling away from her body. I curl up on my side away from her, my erection throbbing against the cloth of my boxers. I hear her shuddering exhale behind me. The space between us is vast and echoing. Everything in me is yelling across to her, wanting her to find me here, reach out to me, and bring me back. Oh, Scully, why is it so fucking hard for us? I fall into a restless sleep. **** No, no, no, no, no!!! He's rolling away. His warm hand leaves my breast, my aching nipple. It hasn't been touched in so long! Such a short-lived fondling is just torture. And his long, thick erection had felt so amazing cradled in the cheeks of my ass. I could feel his intense heat so well through the fabric of our clothes. The large base had been pushed against my core at first, with the rest of his length pressed firmly against my asshole all the way up to my tail bone! Jesus! And then in a half-asleep fog, I'd moved against him and he'd shifted lower so the head of his cock was prodding at my little anus. And then he just rolled away, muttering something about a potato. I feel the loss of his warmth like loss of blood. I am dizzy with not only the pestering physical sensations he's left me with but the very idea that Mulder and I were so intimately connected just now. If we hadn't been wearing clothes we probably would have ended up fucking in our sleep. I realize I've been holding my breath, so I exhale slowly and carefully. Tears spring to my eyes. I'm so hot for him now and my skin is cooling so fast where he was touching me, yet it still tingles. I wish he would come back. My tears fall and soak the pillow. I fall asleep again. **** The sound of Mulder's groaning wakes me. It takes me a minute to resurface. I peel my eyelids off my protesting eyes and blink in the faint light of early morning. I see the back of Mulder's head, really close to my own. I feel my pubic bone pressed to where his lower back becomes his ass. And....I'm holding something. I squeeze it and Mulder groans loudly. Oh my God, I'm holding Mulder's dick!!! Somehow I've worked my fingers into the fly on his boxers and I'm gripping his cock like I'm driving stick. He's so hard, it's like holding titanium. And I can feel his pulse as he throbs in my hand. Oh, dear. "Scully.....oh, baby.....oh, yeah....." He's asleep. I think. He wouldn't be encouraging me if he were awake. Would he? He *did* say my name. Oh God, Mulder said MY name! I smile a little and before I have a chance to think about it, I rub up and down on his length once. "Uuuuunnnggggg...." Oh, what a great sound! I made Mulder moan. That power could become addicting. But I shouldn't do this. The man's asleep and this is taking advantage of him. Which is why I'm only going to do it one more time. I pump my hand up to the head of his cock, swirl my thumb around his leaking hole, and stroke strong and slow back down. "WhoagodSculleeee!" Way to go, Dana. He sure is awake now! Shitshitshitshit! What to do, what to do?! I can tell he's wrestling with the options as well. I just can't move. I know I should. I know I should yank my hand away and start apologizing out the ass for invading his personal space and touching him like that. But he feels sooooo good and I feel so drunk on the power of holding Mulder's erection in my hand. I'm still deliberating when his voice rings loud and true. "Scully. I don't want you to stop." My heart stops. My breathing stops. I don't blink. I don't swallow. And then I speak and my own voice shocks me. "Turn over," I command. He obliges and rolls over to face me. Our eyes lock and I am breathing now. Breathing so hard and so deep. I'm functioning on adrenaline. This is the way I feel when we're apprehending a perp. If my heart was stopped before, it is out of control now, beating so hard I know I would be able to see it if I looked down at my own chest. And all because of what I see in Mulder's face while I hold his cock. He's terrified, too. I take my hand off of him long enough to push his shorts down to his knees. I look down at his stunning shaft and swallow audibly. I look back up into his face and I see desire so fierce it looks like pain. He wants me to touch him so badly, but he can't talk. He's afraid, like me, of breaking this, breaking us. I am shaking with fear, with need. I roll onto my back and lift my shirt so that my breasts are bared, but I don't take it off. I look into Mulder's eyes and grasp his cock firmly. I start pumping him, scooting to where I'm halfway under him, so that when he comes it will be all over my breasts. I want him to come on me. Suddenly, I want it more than anything I think I've ever wanted. My nipples tingle with anticipation. He looks at me in question and my answer is to pump him faster. He groans and throws his head back and then forward. He brings his weight onto his elbow, his other hand braced on the other side of my hip. He is leaning over me, looking down at my tits. They harden quickly and painfully from just his gaze. He notices and whimpers. In the next breath he grunts, then grunts again. I am working hard at his cock and his sounds inflame me, give me power, give me permission to moan, too. I arch my back, so aware of my nipples. I want to tell him. I hope he knows. My body is for him. I am ricocheting back and forth between grunts of effort and sighing my own arousal to him. He looks from my face, my eyes, to my breasts and the way they are jiggling while I jack him off. As he gets closer he starts to buck into my hand. I want to make this happen. He's so close, so wild. "Mulder, I love you!" I gasp as his hot jism shoots out onto me, covering my nipples and my breastbone. His eyes are squeezed shut and he's yelling my name. He's so beautiful, I want to cry. And I'm hurting. How could I have said that? I wasn't ready. He wasn't ready. It wasn't the time. This wasn't about that. Wasn't about my love for him. And now he'll feel betrayed, misled, manipulated. Oh, fuck. Getting him off was so wonderful. Feeling his cock rock in my hand, seeing his face when he orgasmed, feeling his ejaculation on my skin.... I want to relish this, but I've gone and made it something it should never have been. I roll off the bed, pulling my shirt down and wiping it across my chest. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..." I clutch my hands to my chest, twisting my shirt, protecting. "Scully, stay with me." "I can't, Mulder. I'm not ready. I made a mistake saying what I said." "Is it still a mistake if I tell you I loved hearing it?" His Adam's apple shifts. He looks like he's fighting tears. "I....I don't know. Mulder, I don't know anything. I don't know how I feel about this." He shifts closer to me on the bed and I step back. "I need some time." I am pleading with him. I just want to escape to the bathroom, back to Washington, back into bed with him, but I can't. Not yet. I don't know anything with him looking at me like that. "I'll give you time, Scully." "Okay. Thank you. Thank you. I'm so sorry." And I scurry into the bathroom and shut the door. **** I am frozen here with my shorts strangling my knees and my sweat cooling on my body. I listen to Scully running her bath and I hear her say she loves me. It echoes somewhere deep in my chest. I can still feel her trembling fingers choking my cock. I can see her scared and determined expression when she lifts her shirt to show me her breasts, to let me target them. The whole thing is so surreal. I pictured our first time as being romantic as hell. Candles, dancing, kissing for hours, foreplay, and certainly vaginal penetration. Yet somehow this both surpasses that fantasy and depresses me. Scully may have tried to make it distant, just her hand on my cock, my eyes on her breasts, my cum on her glistening skin. But then she said, "Mulder, I love you," and there were a thousand candles in the room. There were cellos and pianos and calla lilies and fireworks and sunsets and starlight. Her love made me come. Just hearing her exquisite voice say those words took me over the edge. I let her run away. I know Scully, and I know nothing would come of keeping her here against her will to make her relive that moment. She's not ready to hear that I love her, too. That I have for eons. She *has* heard it because I was a fool and needed to say it once whether or not she needed to hear it. I won't put us through that again. When I say it again, she will hear me and understand me and trust in it. Oh my God, Scully just gave me a hand job! My purely male brain won't let me wax romantic for too long of a stretch when there is a perfectly good real life sex memory to be replayed and basked in. I smile and fall back into the pillows. What's so great is that I can bask in the aftermath of the best hand job I ever got AND let my heart go pitty pat pat. It was Scully's hand after all and lust and love mix and mingle like Frangelico and cream, complimentary. She gave me a gift this morning. A wonderful, bawdy, shy, fucked up gift. I intend to return the favor. And when I do, I want it all. I want to deliver us both. I get up, get dressed, and start to pack my things. We are catching a plane for home today. Once there, I will go to my place and Scully to hers, but when the time is right, I will be ready and I will put things right between us. I want to spend the rest of my days showing her what this morning meant to me. Now all I have to do is plan my attack. **** Part 2: Wicked Game 7:05 AM Dana Scully's apartment Mulder has invited me over to his apartment for "An Evening of fine Box o' Wine, Games, and Much, Much More...." That's what it said on the email invitation I got this morning. I woke up to the phone ringing. I let the machine get it. Mulder's low monotone greeted me. "Hey Scully. Sorry to call so early on a Sunday. Don't pick up. Just check your email when you get a chance." I got up and padded into the living room, yawning and smiling. The goof. I booted up and there it was. "You have received an e-card from Spooky Spookerson. To view your card blah blah blah..." The jpeg he'd attached to his invitation was a picture of us. I don't know where on earth it could have come from! We're clearly on a case. We're outdoors, both squatting on our heels in the grass, both in black trench coats. We'd probably been looking down into the hole that's in front of us, but in the picture we're looking at each other. Mulder's grinning wolfishly at me and just the very corner of my mouth is turned up and my eyebrow is launched. We're very close to each other, shoulders and knees touching. We've both got latex gloves on and our hands are dangling between our knees. It is breath-takingly beautiful. I've had a week to think about what happened in Oklahoma. Mulder was true to his word and gave me time. He hasn't uttered one word about it. He's been compassionate and considerate to a fault, though, smiling sweetly at me, buying me my morning Starbucks (my grande mild drip in a venti cup so there's enough room for non-fat milk, the ratio of which he knows by heart.) He spent Monday morning cleaning up the office while I shyly hid beneath paper work. He knows how I like things tidy. He brought me a bagel with salmon cream cheese two hours into a grueling autopsy on Tuesday when he realized I wouldn't have time for lunch. He took my dry cleaning when I was too busy to do it on Thursday. He left a white rose on my desk on Friday. The man figured out a way to give me time but still remind me of his presence in my life every hour of every day. I'd be embarrassed about having given Mulder a hand job except that he seems so utterly thankful that I want to laugh hysterically! I've never seen someone act so grateful for a sexual favor. It's entirely too cute. I'd be embarrassed about freaking out about said hand job and my little declaration of love except that Mulder seems to be so unfazed by it, as though I have every right to freak out and I deserve this time to come to terms with things. He amazes me. And I can't wait to see him tonight!! God, I'm practically skipping to the kitchen to make tea and toast. In my week of thinking about things, I realized that come hell or high water, I want a romantic relationship with Mulder. More than that, I realized I *have* a romantic relationship with Mulder. He's shown me that all week long. There's a reason I fell in love with him: we're perfect together. I remember that picture and smile goofily down into my tea cup. I've been such an idiot. I shouldn't be scared of trying to be intimate with Mulder; I should be scared of trying *not* to! Mulder clearly wants to try. He's been begging me wordlessly all week. If I didn't love him madly before, I do now. I'm going to try to put my trepidation aside and let this happen. Tonight. I shiver. I suddenly realize I haven't sent him an RSVP. I set my tea down and jog back to my computer. I sit down and put on my glasses. My hands hover over the keyboard. And then I type: "Mulder. I would love to spend the evening with you. I'll be over by 8 unless I hear from you otherwise." And then I add daringly, "Wear your blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and bare feet. Please feel free to make clothing demands where I'm concerned, too. Scully." In five minutes I have a reply. It says, "The blue dress. M." **** 7:48 PM Fox Mulder's apartment I feel her before I hear her. I stand on this side of the door, safe, and smell her before she knocks. Ysatis. I throw the lock. It is heavy like a dumbbell. It is a humid night and the door resists opening. I tug gently and she is there, revealed, tiny, quaking, and immeasurably gorgeous. The indigo dress hugs her curves. It is spaghetti strapped with a square neckline. Her milky breasts are trying to spill out the top. She looks like 18th century France. The dress falls to her ankles and she is a good four inches taller in her blue sling backs. She looks like sex itself, all sliding and gripping and sleek and soft and powerful. I am awe-struck and have no words for her, nothing to ease the ringing she put into my head. My mouth agape, my eyes wide, I thrust a Box o' Wine in her direction. She jumps and laughs around her words. "Ohmygod. Um, thank you, Mulder. You shouldn't have." She takes my offering and grins up at me and I swear her teeth sparkle like a cartoon character's. I have to laugh with her. "You're probably right. I hope you like burgundy or something closely resembling it." "Something closely resembling burgundy is my very favorite, Mulder." She sounds strangely serious. My smile widens. "Good." I hold the moment just looking at her. Then, "Come on in." She tucks her wine under her arm and proceeds to the couch. I have the window open and the slight breeze lifts her hair away from her neck. I go instantly hard. She sits in the corner of the sofa, farthest from the fish tank and sets her wine on the coffee table. I pick up the remote and click the TV off. "The Dirty Dozen" implodes to black. I then pick up the remote to my CD player and, looking at Scully, hit play. Frankie Goes to Hollywood "Relax" blares out. Scully settles back into the corner, her arms opening to lie against the back, her legs crossing. She smirks up at me. "Before or after?" I know what she's asking. She wants to know if I owned this CD before we had our 80s music discussion or if I went out and bought it after I found out she liked it. I tell the truth. "Before. You're not the only Frankie fan, Scully." I wink at her and go to the kitchen to fetch my own box and a platter of cubed cheese and crackers. I didn't cut it into cubes myself. Albertson's. Bless 'em. I grab a couple wine glasses and balance them on the platter with the food. I'm talking as I exit the kitchen with my goods. "I wasn't sure what you liked cheese-wise, so I went with mozzarella, good ol' sharp cheddar, jalapeno, and jaaaa...." As I turn the corner, I lose my language. She's leaning her head back against the couch with her eyes closed and her mouth slightly open. Her hand is slowly raking through her hair absently and one of her straps has fallen off of her shoulder and is now laying dangerously across her bicep. The milky flesh of her breast is deliciously exposed. All that's left under the fabric is her nipple. She has no idea how sexy she is. "You have no idea how sexy you are," I say. She blushes and sits up to fiddle with the box, shifting her strap up onto her shoulder again. "Any ideas on how to open this, Mulder?" "You're the precisionist, Scully. You open bodies for a living. Surely you're not stumped by the enigma that is Box o' Wine." I come over and deposit my tray and sit down next to her. I produce her spigot in record time and suavely pour her a glass -- she wears a dutifully impressed expression, humoring me -- before helping myself to my own box of burgundy. With full glasses we toast. "Cheers, Mulder." "Cheers, Scully." We sip, our eyes never leaving each other. I swallow and she daintily wipes at her lips with the back of her hand. "Mulder, this isn't bad!" She sounds shocked. "Only the best five dollar wine for my...." I trail off unsure of how that sentence is supposed to end. "For your?" Scully prompts. "Partner?" I try. "Certainly. What else?" "Friend?" "Always. Mulder...what else?" "For my soul mate." She smiles that gigantic, close-lipped grin, her eyes dancing across my face. "I like that." She sighs and relaxes against the cushions and we both sip and nibble cheese through the rest of Frankie and on into Sade. It is pleasant, though the air is charged and my awareness of Scully is like a dog's awareness of bacon. "Mulder, do you think we need to talk about things? About...us?" She is looking into her now nearly empty glass. "Do you want to, Scully?" I scoot closer to her, bringing my left leg up to hook my foot under my right thigh. My wine glass rests on the back of the couch in my left hand. "I don't know. I'm not sure how to start that discussion. We've been not talking about what's between us for so many years." She glances up at me. "Thank you for wearing that dress," I blurt. She smiles. "I didn't know you liked it so much, Mulder. I haven't worn it in so long. Since...." "The Director's Ball. October 1996." I stare her down. Yes, Scully I remember. I fantasize about you in that dress at least once a week. I am hopelessly obsessed with you, my partner, my love. And I love you so. I ache to say it again. Give me a sign that you're ready. "Mulder, I...." She stops, looking puzzled, almost uncomfortable. And then something behind those eyes releases, like she remembers a vow she made to herself. She looks deep into my eyes and scoots forward until she's just inches away from me. She takes my wine and sets it on the table deliberately. She then takes my face in her hands and brings her lips to mine. I let out a small mewl as our lips touch. I think I just lost all control of the evening. Her silky lips slide over mine slowly and deliciously. It is somewhere between chaste and a full blown kiss. She is not insistent, just...loving. Oh God, she's saying it. With this kiss she's trying to say it again. Her hands tremble slightly on my face. I pull away slightly and put my finger to her bottom lip gently. She's so exquisite. "Was that okay, Mulder?" "Yes, Scully." "Wanna do it again?" "Yes, Scully." "I love how you say my name." "Scully......" And she jumps me. She hurls her little body into my arms, wrapping her arms around my head as she pushes her hot tongue into my mouth. Her breasts push tantalizingly against my chest. I groan into her mouth and pull her into me farther, my hands on her back, one high, one dangerously low. She shivers and tilts her head back. I take the lead and attack her mouth, leaning into her. My hand slides up into her hair and her hands come down to tug my t-shirt free of my jeans. She runs her fingers up my ribs, my chest, down around my waist, around to my back. She pulls her mouth from mine and we are breathless, gasping. "Mulder? I need a minute." I look at her questioningly. Is she having second thoughts? She smiles at me then and her face tells me everything. She wants this. She wants it all. But it needs to slow down. "Hey Scully," I say playing with her hair, twirling it in my fingers as I rub circles on her lower back. She purrs and looks at me with heavy eyes. "Wanna play Truth or Dare?" She chuckles seductively and shifts away from me slightly, her hands coming out of my shirt to rest on my thighs. She squeezes and I inhale sharply. "That could get dangerous, Agent Mulder." "I like dangerous, Agent Scully. I think you do, too." "Mmm." She leans in and pecks me once quickly on the corner of my mouth. I am already addicted to the feel of her warm breath on my lips. "I think I might need...fortification." She takes her glass and pours herself another. I do the same and then we settle back into the couch, close but not touching. "Who goes first?" she asks. "You." She takes a deep breath. "Truth or dare, Mulder?" I sip my wine. "Truth." She contemplates for a while, chewing her bottom lip, eyes ceiling-ward. Then she looks at me and asks, "Have you ever fantasized about slow dancing with me again, Mulder?" "Have you?" "Not my question." She smiles at me. "The question is yours." The smile disappears. "Answer it." "Yes, Scully, I have fantasized numerous times about slow dancing with you. So numerous that I've lost count...if ever I was counting at all." Her eyes are so big! I'm in them so deep. "And do your fantasies ever go...further?" "Unh unh. Not a chance. You got your answer. It's no longer your turn. So, truth or dare, Scully?" "Dare," she says without hesitation. I reach over and take her hand. "Dance with me." The CDs shift and it's Chris Isaak, "Wicked Game" with that drunk and sensuous guitar. Scully doesn't speak. She stands and moves around the coffee table with me out to the middle of the living room. There's not much space, but there doesn't need to be. I pull her tiny body in close to me, so that we are touching everywhere we can be. My arms go around her and hers around me. She is looking up into my eyes and we dance like that, in silence, barely moving, bodies brushing against one another, pressing in, her soft to my hard. I could be this way with her forever, just holding her and looking at her, seeing the longing in her eyes, the finality. The world was on fire No one could save me but you. Strange what desire will make foolish people do. I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you. I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you. Her hand comes up to stroke my face. Her lip trembles slightly. Her hand comes away damp. I must be crying. I have no reason to. I didn't lose Scully. She's here. In my arms. But remembering the times when she was almost lost to me are too much. I feel another tear roll down my face and this time she leans up to press her sweet lips to it. She comes away with my tear on her lips, a salt tattoo. What a wicked game you play To make me feel this way. What a wicked thing to do To let me dream of you. I want her to know that as painful as those times were, I am in the present, with her here and now. I lean down and place my lips lightly against her ear. "You make me crazy," I whisper. "Scully, you're so beautiful it hurts to look at you." I feel her tremble. She lets her hands slip down my chest and sides as she pushes her breasts against me almost wantonly. I can feel her nipples through her dress and my shirt as she rubs herself against me. "I feel like I'm dreaming," she says softly, resting her forehead against my shoulder. "I do, too. It's the best dream I've ever had." I wince a little at how sappy that sounded, but Scully doesn't seem to mind. She just slides against me like silk and sighs. It seems like slow hours until she speaks again. "Truth or Dare, Mulder?" She looks up at me, drowsy and fuckable. "Truth." "Have you ever...thought of me while....you touched yourself?" I can't help laughing at this. If she only knew. Her brow is furrowed, unsure of what my laughter means. "Oh, Scully." I squeeze her to me. "For the last seven years, every time I have made myself come, it has been because of you." She gasps and I go on. "When I touch myself, Scully...when I get myself off...I am always picturing you, making love to you, licking you, being inside you. When I come it is because I feel you." I pause dramatically. "Because it's *your* hand." She blushes and averts her eyes. "Good answer, Mulder." Good. She's embarrassed, but not humiliated remembering what she did to me. She is smiling, biting her lower lip. "C'mere." I pull her back into me so she can bury her face in my chest. **** The song ends and I stay in Mulder's arms as the discs shift. Midnight Oil's "Beds Are Burning" comes on. Mulder perks up and looks down at me smiling. "I forgot I put this in! You like Midnight Oil, Scully?" We start to sway and kind of bounce. I feel giddy and light-headed and for some reason I can't quit smiling. "Yep." Out where the river broke The bloodwood and the desert oak Holden wrecks and boiling diesels Steam in forty-five degrees. I've always liked this song. I like what it says and I like singing it really loud as I drive down the Beltway with all my windows down going 80 miles per hour. Most people probably wouldn't guess that I'm a steering wheel thumper. Well, they're usually right; I'm not. But I am when it comes to this song. Mulder takes my hand and pushes me out away from him only to tug me back into his arms for a turn. I love the smile I see on his face. It changes the color of his eyes. They're so green now. The time has come To say fair's fair To pay the rent To pay our share The time has come A fact's a fact It belongs to them Let's give it back. Mulder starts to sing when the chorus begins. He has the lyrics all wrong. He makes it all about love and sex. He so would. It's so Mulder. I laugh. "What?" he asks, laughing too, but he looks like he really doesn't know what's funny. "Nothing, Mulder. It's just....you're so...charming and sexy and beautiful and those are all the wrong words." I'm laughing in earnest now. My cheeks hurt from it. Mulder pulls me tight into his chest and attacks my neck with love bites and slobbery kisses and I squeal and fake trying to get away. I end up turning around in his arms and he's clutching at my waist as I wiggle. Suddenly his hands aren't tickling, and I still. They are gliding purposefully up my ribs to cup my breasts, lifting them even higher than the dress does. I stumble back against him, looking down at his hands on me, holding me. "Mulder, you've got huge hands." "Truth or dare, Scully?" His voice is so close to my ear and so deep with want. "Mmmm, truth." I breathe deeply, enjoying how the fabric of the dress slides across my nipples, how engorged they feel just above his hands. "Are you sorry about what happened between us?" I take a moment to collect my thoughts. It's so complicated and I don't want to give him the wrong impression. I take his hands and shift them to my stomach, needing room to concentrate. "I'm sorry about how I handled it, Mulder." "Scully, I think you *handled it* just fine." I smile at his tease. "Shut up a second, Mulder. I'm serious." I turn back around to face him and place my hand on his cheek. "I'm sorry I ran away. I'm sorry I wasn't big enough to stay and look you in the eye and tell you how I feel about you, Mulder. And I want to make it up to you." I take a breath and put my hands on his chest, feeling his heart thud anxiously. "I'll never be sorry for touching you." I give him a long moment to process this. "Does that answer your question?" "I think so, yeah." I am put into a trance by his lips. I remember our kisses on the couch and get embarrassingly wet. I feel slick and swollen. I try to do more but all I can do is whisper. "Truth or dare?" His breathing is uneven. "Dare." The song ends. There is total quiet now except for the soft gurgle of the fish tank and our breath. This is scarier in silence. "I dare you to kiss me....here." I point to my cleavage, the inside of my right breast to be specific, right where the dress ends and my sensitive skin begins. And Mulder doesn't know it but I am so sensitive in that spot. I raise my eyes to look at him beneath my lashes. I am breathing pretty hard now with just the thought of his lips there. The thought that I just asked for it. I see molten hazel lava as he looks at where my finger meets my breast. I take that same hand and put it behind his head and draw him down...down. He takes my hips in his hands and leans over me, tilting his head. His lips make contact. I don't know which is softer, my whimper or his lips. I almost want to hold my breath. The moment seems so delicate, like it could evaporate. I feel his tongue peek out to taste me and then his teeth as they graze my skin carefully. It's such a small caress, but I convulse and nearly fall. "Oh God!" I feel his pride as he smiles against me. His confidence only makes me quiver more. His hands tighten around my hips to hold me up as he continues to kiss my breast. He knows what he's doing to me and, God help me, I ache for him to know. He has me. He can make this torture or ecstasy. He wields such power over me. No one has ever made me feel this way. I have never wanted to feel like this with someone. My hand falls from behind his head to dangle limply by my side. I'm not touching him at all, just letting him touch me. It's a heady feeling and I let my head loll on my neck and my mouth go slack as I moan low in my throat. He's now just French kissing my breast, sucking on the swollen flesh so near my nipple. He's so close I can feel it pulling. Oh just a bit to the right. "Please...." I whisper. He stops and stands up tall before me. I am breathless, heaving. He puts his hands on me, one on each shoulder and slides my straps off. I whimper as I feel the bodice pull just a fraction of an inch lower. Mulder tugs slowly down on my straps. It's agony! One millimeter at a time. I am nearly insane from anticipation. I can't even look at him too long. He's too intense. I'm too aroused. My dress drags along the spot where he was just kissing me, then lower....oh god. "Mu....unh....." I'm panting. *tug* *pant* *tug* *pant* Finally, I feel my dress catch on my nipples. He's going to have to pull harder. Instead, he just keeps the same amount of pressure and the fabric pulls on my nipples, enough to make them tingle and harden, but not enough to free them. I suck in my breath and hold it, feeling how it heightens the sensation if I expand my chest. Every once in a while I have to exhale. I make it short so I can get back to this feeling. My eyes are now shut and I feel suspended painfully and blissfully in this moment with my dress hanging on my tits and Mulder in control of it all, watching me. "Scully, you don't know what you fucking do to me." He sounds so rugged and tortured. Mercifully, he finally pulls down one last time and my bodice pools at my waist leaving my breasts exposed. I feel the silky material slice over my sensitive nubs and then I feel Mulder's eyes. I let out my breath in a whoosh and open my eyes to see his devouring me. "Mulder, I want you." He grabs me behind my head and jerks me to his mouth, kissing me forcefully. It is a hard kiss, but wet and slow still. Mulder is very thorough and his tongue pushing against the insides of my mouth and tangling with my own tongue is driving my pulse down between my thighs, making me crave the feel of his body under my hands. I want to feel his skin. I pull his shirt out from his jeans and break our kiss long enough to help him rip it off. It leaves his hair messy and wonderful. "You were right," he says to me as he pulls me roughly to him and massages my back and ass with strong, sure, impatient hands. My voice is so breathy, I sound like a phone sex operator. "What are you talking about, Mulder?" All I know is the feel of my naked chest against his. Finally. God. "This really *would* have seriously compromised our stake out." I laugh and so does he and I pull his laughing mouth down for another torrid kiss. **** Scully's perfect breasts are against my chest and our tongues are battling. I just cannot believe this is Scully and I keep opening my eyes as we kiss to make sure it's still her, my partner, my Scully. Her mouth is scorching and sweet like sugar and wine. Her little moans are killing me. I want to bunch her dress up at her waist and start fucking her right now this instant. I want to fuck Scully for the rest of my life. Her mouth opens and just her little tongue comes out now. I catch her drift and keep our lips together but open, barely touching. I lick at her tongue, flicking at it as she flicks back. It's delicious. Scully wants to play. She wants to tease me and be teased. It is unutterably erotic, how just our tongues are touching, circling each other. We alternate between opening our eyes just enough to watch our tongues and each other's expressions -- Scully keeps nearly smiling -- and shutting our eyes to merely feel for each other blindly. She flicks at my teeth and breathes out the sexiest little chuckle as we lick and fondle. And suddenly it's too much and we lock on with our lips again in a ferocious kiss, trying to suck each other to oblivion. I reach up to cradle her breasts and she leans the barest inch away from me so my fingers can find her nipples. I know that's what she wants. Her body screams it. I nudge the tips with just the knuckles of my index fingers and she makes an uncategorizable sound into my mouth. It sends my cock up hard against the waistband of my jeans. I take her tits between my thumbs and fingers and rub slightly back and forth, twisting just barely. She rips her mouth from mine. "Mulder!!" She grabs for my hips and leans back into a nice, little, begging arch. "Yessss....touch my breasts, Mulder. Oh, it feels good!" I pinch them once and then flick them back and forth quickly and lightly. "Mulder...ohshit.....you could make me come this way, do you know that?" She looks at me. I am stunned. I can't believe I can do this to Scully. Could I really make it happen just by playing with her nipples? Jesusmaryandjoseph. All I can do is shake my head dumbly in the negative. No, Scully, I had no idea. She smiles up at me between groans. "You big stud." And then we're both laughing again and we're kind of caressing and kissing our way back to my bedroom. Scully attacks my shoulders and neck and chest with that plump, rosy mouth as she pulls on my belt loops to get me to follow her. "Scully, are we still playing the game?" "Well, if we are, I have one last dare for you, Mulder." "And what would that be, Scully?" We're in the bedroom. She straightens to look me in the eye. "I dare you to fuck your partner until she screams." "Oh, Scully, you know what I like." I am so goddamned lucky. Scully is half-naked in my bedroom and asking me to fuck her. Until she screams. And not only that, she's smiling at me and I'm smiling at her and I'm having more fun than Frohike at a strip club with a free buffet and dollar wells. After all the shit we've been through, Scully and I are having a blast getting each other in the sack. There's just one thing missing. "Scully?" Her hands are working on my fly as she kicks her shoes off. "What is it, Mulder?" She looks up at me smiling. Fucking beautiful. It steals my breath momentarily. When I find my voice again I ask, "Did you mean it?" I see her eyes dance, her wheels turning. She's about to shake her head in an I-don't-quite-get-it-Mulder gesture. And then I see in dawn on her face. She blinks slowly and rests her hands on my waist, looking up at me, open and vulnerable. "Yes, I meant it. I love you, Mulder. I've loved you forever." I see in her that she doesn't expect to hear it back. It's not that she's sad. She just loves me whether I have the balls to say it back or not. Her love does not depend on mine. I take her face in my hands and blink back my sudden tears. "Scully...." She closes her eyes briefly and hums. It's as though I touched her. I think she feels it when I say her name. I know I feel her voice on me and her saying my name is like her mouth on me, like little hands tickling my heart. "I love you more." I let the corner of my mouth turn up. Tears spring to her eyes and she hits me on the chest. "You....shit. It's not a contest." She's laughing and sniffling. I'm laughing, too. Scully just called me a shit and my heart did a little leap. "But it's true. No one could love anyone more than I love you, Scully." "Then we're even." I lower my head down to hers and meet her lips. Her hands are back to trying to rid me of my pants, but slower now. The I love you's hang in the air and make it heavy. We move slower through it. There is no rush except that which our bodies create. I push her dress off her hips and hear it land at her feet. I stop kissing her because my eyes win a wrestling match with my mouth. I have to see her. Oh, fuck me running up a hill. Scully isn't wearing any underwear. She quirks a sassy eyebrow. "Does that turn you on, G-man?" In answer I take my jeans and boxers off the rest of the way and stand before her with my erection touching my stomach. I'm harder than I've ever been. "Now, what do you think, G-woman?" "I think....hoo-boy...." "Turn around," I say. She gives me a dangerous little smile and turns. Her head is the last thing to go, letting her look linger. I get a good look at her phenomenal ass before I step in behind her and replace my eyes with my erection. She sucks her breath in and as my arms sweep around her she relaxes against me. My hands roam over her body at their leisure, her hips and thighs, her stomach and ribs, over and around her arms. She blinks slowly like a panther. "I've wanted to touch you since the day we met," I whisper in her ear as I hold her breasts in my hands, weighing them lovingly. "I've wanted you to touch me since the day we met," she groans. She takes my left hand and moves my fingers to her nipple, pressing down. It feels too hard for me, but she hisses and quivers and I think she must know best. I let my right hand descend down her belly at a slow crawl. My fingers nestle in her drenched curls and she melts my name on her lips. "Does that feel good, Scully?" I've started to run my middle finger back and forth between her legs, smearing her liquid over her clitoris tenderly. "It feels fucking divine," she sighs on a smile, eyes still closed. I dip my finger into her and then draw teasing circles around her opening. She's so wet that I can hear it. I switch hands so I can spread her juices around her areola. I tease her opening with my left hand as I tease her nipple with the right, tightening it up into a perky nub. Her knees buckle and hit the side of the bed as she moans. Okay, so that's enough of standing up. I switch positions, lying on the bed on my back and I drag her up over me. She easily follows my lead, spreading her legs to straddle my hips. I reach my mouth up to latch onto her nipple. Her taste assaults my tongue all tangy and sharp-sweet like champagne. Once I suck off the taste of her arousal, what's left is the faintly vanilla taste of Scully's skin. Her breast is so soft and feels like heaven against my lips and tongue. I plunge my fingers into her vagina and start to suck harder on her. She's humming and shivering and the slap of my fingers into her is too much and I want to make her come like this. I can barely think at all past her name. Her hips are now moving so that with each push of my fingers, she's throwing herself down on my hand, getting me as deep as possible. I groan around her flesh. I want to put my cock inside her now, but I wait. I want her like this first. I want this for her, like she gave it to me. She throws her head back and her hair flies behind her like the mane of a goddess. Her fast breathing eggs me on. Her thrusting is primal, instinctive. It sparks something animal in me as well. Seeing Scully like this, uninhibited and sex-driven, is powerful stuff. My hips start to surge rhythmically off the bed in answer to hers. "Keep...sucking...me..." she cries. I switch breasts and take over with my hand on the other, holding her nipple in the crook between my thumb and hand, squeezing. My fingers are working fast in and out of her. "Oh boy!" She doesn't really yell it, just says it really loud. The exclamation makes me want to laugh. It's so cute, so involuntary on her part. I feel like a god. "Oh! Hooogod!!!" And then in an awe-struck whisper, "Oh my God." Scully's walls clamp shut around my fingers and I still my movement to feel the little flutters. Her eyebrows are knit over her closed eyes. She gasps and pants through her orgasm and I lick her nipple gently. Steadily she lowers herself down onto me. I take my hand from between her legs to hug her to me. She's so tiny. That always surprises me. I hold her as she calms and trail my fingers over her beautiful back. "Mulder?" she mumbles against my neck. "Hmm?" "Do that again." She and I both laugh against each other, jostling. I roll us over and look down into her face. She loves me. She shines with it. Scully loves me. It's plain as day. Has it always been? "This way?" I ask her, meaning me on top. "Yeah," she grins shyly and scoots around under me, tickling her perfect nails over my chest. I lean down to kiss her. Her mouth opens and she sucks my tongue in. I take her leg and hike her knee up a bit as I take myself in hand and touch myself to her entrance. Her hand finds mine and we both guide my cock into her, still kissing. She moans deep and long into my mouth as she takes my ass with both hands and tilts her hips to better receive me. I push into her slow and steady, feeling her grip all around me. It's a sensation I haven't felt in so long. It brings tears to my eyes. Once I'm all the way in, Scully breaks the kiss. She looks up at me, lust and need rekindling in her gaze. "Nice fit," she says. Her face conveying that she finds this both unsurprising and truly magical at the same time. I couldn't agree more. **** Mulder fills me and I feel like finally we are unbreakable. Nobody could touch this. This is mythic and rapturous and unstoppable. This is nearly seven years of longing and abstinence. This is justice. He starts to move in me and I feel a slight sting, my smallness protesting his girth. He peers down at me, holding my head in his hands, stroking strong thumbs across my cheeks. "Scully? Am I hurting you, baby?" "No," I whisper and I feel myself float out of the insignificant pain and into bliss. We are making love. Mulder is fucking me. Any pain is worth this. I take my hands off of his butt and run them through his hair. "I love you," I say softly. "I know. I love you, too." "You feel amazing," I tell him. "So big. It's so good." "Scully...I can't believe this is happening." I can't either and it strikes me as suddenly kind of funny. I giggle. I can't help it. It just bubbles out of me. I crook my finger at him and he comes down so I can whisper in his ear. "Mulder....we're fucking." Like I'm letting him in on some big secret that only I know. He looks down at me. "Who should we tell first, Skinner or Kersh?" He winks. My eyes widen and I slap him on the arm. His answer is to speed up. Immediately my body goes on orgasm alert. The buzz is beginning deep in my abdomen. "Oh Jesus, Mulder." One minute we're joking like kids, the next he's making my body heat sky rocket. I never knew it would be this good between us. He reaches down to rub my clit and I groan and bring my knee a little higher, opening myself so he can penetrate me all the way up to my cervix. We're rocking and the bed is creaking and we're both sweating and sliding on each other. We sound kind of like a porno. I don't have time to smile because Mulder decides it's time to kiss the life out of me. He groans into my mouth and his hand speeds up on my clit, creating the most blinding friction as his cock plows me. It is just right, his mouth, his hand, his cock in me. I explode. I am virtually screaming into his mouth as I grab on tight to his fucking fantastic ass and ride it out. Mulder comes right behind me. I feel him gush into me, his hips jerking in a beautifully ungraceful staccato. He tears his mouth from mine. "Ah, JESUS! Scully!!!" I squeeze his butt and tilt my pelvis up for his one last thrust and then we both let out long, ragged, satisfied sighs as we collapse in exhaustion with impossibly big smiles. I can feel his against my collar bone. I stroke his sweaty hair and feel my body thrum wherever we are touching. He is still in me. I've never been happier. "Mulder, I think you killed me," I breathe out. He takes a slow, juicy suck on my upper chest. I think it's just going to be a quick love suck, but he keeps at it, sucking and sucking until I know there's going to be a huge mark. "Mulder!" I yell indignantly, lifting my head. "You'll give me a hickey!" He lifts his head, admiring his handiwork then looks into my eyes. "I know." "Why?!" "Because I love you and I want everyone to know." My expression softens. *What* have I gotten myself into? "Fine, Mulder. I'll just wear a turtleneck in to work." "No you won't." My eyebrow goes up. "You'll wear a thin, silk blouse with three buttons undone so that everyone will know. I want everyone to know I'm your lover." I shiver at his conviction, his possessiveness. I do believe I am, yet again, turned on. This man *will* kill me. "I want everyone around every water cooler to be whispering about us," he goes on. "I want to get knowing looks in the elevator. I want you to blush when I look at you." "Oh yeah?" I ask, rolling us over so that I can be on top. "And what will *you* be doing while I'm blushing and showing off my hickey?" "I'll be worshipping you, Scully. Everyone will know because I won't be able to hide it. I love you so much it hurts." Damn him. I've got tears in my eyes. "Oh, Mulder..." I paw at his face and lean down to kiss him. We fit our lips together and kiss for days. We only stop to turn off the lights in the living room and go to the bathroom. Once our teeth have been brushed and the left-over food has been put away, we crawl back into bed together, meeting each other in the middle. We snuggle down and wrap ourselves around each other as best we can. Mulder falls asleep in my arms like a child and I kiss him on the forehead. I let my eyes drift shut and my last waking thought is that I can't wait for morning. I'm going to wake Mulder up by giving him the biggest, most obnoxious hickey of his life. End Author's Notes: Phew! This one was a doozy to write! I hope it makes all of you happy who have been waiting patiently for it. I wanted to say that all of the quotes in part 1 from when Mulder is watching TV in bed with Scully were real. They are what I actually heard when I surfed. I couldn't believe my luck with how they almost all sounded like sexual innuendo! The jpeg that Mulder sends Scully in his invitation is *not* real. I'm very sorry if I got your interest perked. That image came from my shippy little brain. If anybody finds a picture that actually fits that description, PLEASE send it to me! I will be your personal slave for life. Acknowledgments: Thanks to Mitzi for that Midnight Oil lyrics site! Thanks to Orange Tabby Cat for not being too pissed at me for not including that back rub. I will write a whole story just for you, dear, to make up for it. I need to thank Sherri again for hand-cuffing me to my lap top so I would finish this puppy. You always keep me on track and I hope you enjoyed the result! Thanks to Donnilee for general inspiration and friendship. I hope this give you tingles. It is my mission in life to give you tingles, girl. :) Extra special thanks to Satina. She beta-ed, she kept me writing, she inspired me, she made me laugh, and she's archiving this. I am so grateful for your help and your friendship and your wonderful writing!! You are truly amazing. :) Now FEEDBACK ME at lmelao@earthlink.net!! Go! Do it! Please?